by C. J. Anaya
Mira let out a soft chuckle that sounded like a small stream rippling over a pebbled bed of smooth stones.
“How indeed. Perhaps this is a great way to begin anew. Be friends. Be allies and let things unfurl when you are ready.”
I nodded, deciding her advice, though kindly meant, completely undermined my firm resolve to avoid a relationship with Jareth at all cost. Still, it was nice to talk to another woman who understood me so well. Girl talk really hadn’t been part of my life within the Sprite Mines.
“I’ll leave you to find a few hours of respite. I hope you sleep well, dear Crysta. And thank you for curing me and for the monumental gift you bestowed upon me and my husband. Even now I can feel him, sense him in a way I never have before. It’s truly wonderful.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. It hadn’t been a gift. It had been a repair. I’d just brought back what I deemed the natural order of things to be. All spouses should be able to be so connected even though it seemed contrary to all the rules of magic Kheelan had explained to me.
So I smiled and accepted her warm hug, breathing in the fall leaf smell her amazing hair gave off.
“Sleep well, Crysta.”
“Thank you,” I said through a suspicious lump of emotion clogging my throat.
I immediately crawled under the covers and let my exhaustion take over.
Nightmares suck.
And the one I was having was a real doozie, although not new to me since it was that terrible Jareth nightmare filled with him hunting me and me doing my best to avoid capture at all cost. The shadows in my dreams hedged up the way, making it difficult to see far enough ahead of me to formulate a good escape route. I was fleeing blind with no plan, no purpose, and no idea of how to outrun the inevitable. When a hand gripped my forearm and jerked me around, I balled my fists ready to let them fly into Jareth’s face, but instead of the physical violence I expected I was suddenly surrounded by his strong arms as they wrapped me in a warm cocoon of comfort and reassurance.
“I’ve got you, Crysta,” Jareth said. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
I don’t? Really?
I blinked my eyes awake, staring into the darkness and feeling mighty disoriented. A hand caressed my hair and comforting words were murmured in a low voice as steel arms rocked me back and forth.
“I’m here, Crysta,” Jareth said. “Just a bad dream. It’s just a bad dream.”
“What happened?” I choked out. My throat felt dry and raspy, as if I’d been screaming my lungs out for hours.
“You cried out in your sleep. I’ve been dozing outside your door all night in case you needed anything and thought for a moment that another assassin was making an attempt on your life. Instead, I found you thrashing about in your sleep. Do you wish to talk about your troubled dreams?”
“Uh, no. Not really.”
I considered moving out of his arms, but decided to stay there a few moments longer since I was both exhausted and weirdly comforted by his presence.
Just for a few moments.
Jareth stayed silent as he smoothed hair back from my temple. I looked up at him, seeing his face outlined in the faint moonlight. The prominent set of his cheekbones stood out, as did the ridge of his nose and jaw. I couldn’t make out his expression, but I didn’t really want to. I was afraid it might hold pity or compassion, and in my vulnerable state that might spell disaster on so many levels.
I suddenly felt a small rumble against my back and realized Jareth was chuckling.
Seriously? Were my terrifying nightmares funny to him?
“What are you laughing at?” I said in exasperation.
“I’m sorry,” he said, smoothing back some hair from my forehead. “I was just thinking about the time you forced me to watch what you call horror flicks. I made the mistake of teasing you about your fear of spiders and you insisted that everyone was afraid of something. I claimed that assassins such as myself were afraid of nothing. You decided a movie marathon of horror flicks would instill some healthy fear and deflate my enormous ego.” His shoulders shook a little more as his laughter rang out.
“Did it work?” I asked, feeling intrigued and a little curious. Kheelan had attempted to feed me experiences about how we’d fallen in love, but they always seemed a little over-the-top, a little embellished, and a little forced. I thought his stories felt that way simply because he was so desperate for me to remember him.
But this memory didn’t seem like that. It was simple.
Silly, really.
“Oh, it worked,” Jareth said, snorting out a laugh. “Just on the wrong individual. You were so afraid to go to sleep that night you actually let me cuddle next to you in your bed. I teased you mercilessly for that, but it felt like such a gift to hold you in my arms all night.”
Curious.
“I didn’t normally let you sleep with me?” I asked. “I thought we were engaged, or in love or…something.”
Jareth stilled for a moment and then let out a soft sigh.
“You always insisted I sleep in a different room. I always insisted on sleeping on the floor next to your room just so I could keep an eye on you. I thought at first that you were simply inexperienced with the physical aspects of a relationship and nervous to proceed any further. That you wished to take things slow, and even though I hated to sleep without you in my arms, I despised the thought of ever doing anything that made you feel uncomfortable.”
“You thought? You mean, that wasn’t the reason I wanted you to sleep in a different room?”
“No,” he said in a hushed voice. It was one word, but it held a world of emotion I didn’t quite understand.
“You’re gonna have to explain that to me.”
“You were hurt by…someone you should have been able to trust. You grew up in the foster care system, a program the human government created for children with no parents or parents who were not fit to raise them. There are adults who volunteer to take in these children and raise them. Unfortunately, the volunteers are not always fit to be providers and are more like predators, creating more damage than even the unfit parents.”
“That is messed up,” I said, unable to comprehend a program like that.
“It is a flawed system, made even more so by overburdened social workers and adults who assume they have the right to treat these children however they see fit so long as the paychecks continue to roll in. At least, that is how you described it to me. You didn’t go into much detail about the abuse you suffered, but from the little you told me, it traumatized you. It left a stain on your heart and colored your view of intimacy in a very real and debilitating way.”
I swallowed down my outrage at the thought of anyone taking advantage of me like that. These humans sounded terrible. How could they hurt defenseless children?
Jareth’s arms tightened ever so slightly, offering me comfort even though I hadn’t asked for it.
“Even though I am heartsick at the thought of you never remembering me or the relationship we developed, I can’t help but feel relieved that you have completely forgotten your time in this system. You have no memory of the abuse you suffered, no memory of the lonely nights in your bedroom when you cried yourself to sleep as a little child wishing a kind family would adopt you and love you no matter how old you were or how different you looked. That rejection, loneliness, and pain is gone, and even though you have the memories of Kheelan’s betrayal and the knowledge of how he has violated your trust and your mind, you do not remember the violation of your body and spirit by men who were assigned to protect and take care of you.” He stroked my arm and tucked my head under his chin. “It is my greatest desire to protect you from every ugly harmful thing, and I do not want you to get those particular memories back. All that pain seems best forgotten so it can never again hurt you.”
I hadn’t realized there were tears streaming down my face until I tried to find my voice and failed. I cleared my throat and tried again.
“Even if it means
never remembering you or what we had?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t know what to say to this. His selfless admission was swiftly undermining my determination to keep him at arm’s length. My icy walls were starting to melt and all my resolve was crumbling.
I clenched my jaw and fought to hold on to the indifference I wanted to feel around this guy, but all I could feel was gratitude and a sense of wonder that he was willing to accept my memory loss if it meant shielding me from the memories of my ugly childhood.
It could all be lies, an insidious thought whispered, breaking the spell.
As far as I knew, like Kheelan, Jareth could be spinning a traitorous web of elaborate stories meant to coax me into a false sense of security and give me a false sense of trust in him. Yet I had to admit the details he knew didn’t seem glossed over or obscure. Kheelan had always used generalizations, but Jareth’s memories of us and the things we shared didn’t feel contrived.
But I still didn’t trust him. I was still afraid to jump the gun and buy into another false history of who I was and what my life had been like. A false version of myself. I couldn’t do it.
“I appreciate you saying that, Jareth, but I can’t hide from those memories. The fate of this realm rests on our ability to recover one very specific memory. We have to know what my mother hid within my own mind.”
Jareth let out a weighty sigh. “I know, Crysta. I know.”
We were both silent after that. The discussion had turned somber and depressing. I needed to think about something else.
“Can we turn a light on in here?” I asked.
Sitting in the dark with him felt really intimate and now that my nightmare was over, I needed some serious space. At least, I was pretty sure that’s what I needed.
I thought he might get up and flick a light switch or something, but he merely lifted his hand and flicked his wrist, whispering something under his breath.
A fire in the hearth roared to life, making me jump in surprise. His arms closed around me to steady me and he made a soft noise to comfort me.
“I thought you’d just turn the lamp on,” I said, my voice going husky at our continued contact.
“You feel more cold than usual,” he said. “These rooms are a bit chilly.”
I grasped onto what little will power I had left and pulled away from him, creating a few inches of space between us. He didn’t look happy with it, but he didn’t insist on holding me again, which was progress. I’d been dangerously close to succumbing to his muscled arms and resting within their secure hold for the rest of the night.
I really sucked at this indifferent, ice queen business.
His blue eyes drank me in with an intensity that unnerved me and I fought for a subject that was safe and non-intimate.
“How did you find me in the mines?” I asked. “Kheelan seemed to think all the wards and spells were virtually impossible to break through.”
Jareth’s expression darkened and his lips curled into a sneer.
“My brother’s opinion of himself and his ability to work magic has always been quite healthy, and even though he is someone you should not underestimate, he has not lived as long as I have, he is not as powerful as I am, and…” he paused as he let his smoldering gaze rake over me. “…he was not nearly as motivated.”
I froze under that look. I wanted to change the topic to something safe and he’d just managed to inadvertently bring things around to what he felt for me.
“So you sensed his magic?”
“I sensed yours,” he said. “I found traces of your signature within the mine after weeks of searching for something I could latch onto. Once I sensed you, I didn’t stop following the trail.” His intense gaze held mine for a moment and then his eyes narrowed in consternation. “I don’t know how in the world you survived those mines for six weeks, Crysta. Your claustrophobia is, as you always like to say, so out of control.”
I gaped at him in surprise.
“You knew about that?”
“Of course,” he said, looking pleased to have caught me off guard. His lips turned up at the corners as he offered me a wicked smile that did funny things to my stomach. “About a week after I renounced my throne so I could claim you—”
“You renounced your…oh, that’s right. I forgot about that.”
So selfless. My icy walls were feeling a bit slushy at the moment.
Dammit.
“Anyway, I thought a candlelit dinner within the caves of La Jolla Cove would be a romantic way to woo you. The moment we apparated there, you immediately started to hyperventilate. I’ve never seen anyone react to closed-in spaces the way you do.” He startled me with a chuckle that caused heat to pool in my tummy.
Ice queen, I reminded myself. Get it together, you weakling.
“I don’t remember that,” I said quietly.
The humor in his eyes dulled a bit.
“What do you remember?” he asked as he tucked some hair behind my ear.
I stared up at him, feeling so empty inside.
“Nothing. Nothing before Kheelan and my father were there.”
He nodded, smoothing out his face into a neutral expression, but not before I noticed the sadness my words caused him.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m going to tell you the whole story. I’m going to start from the moment I arrived at your apartment—”
“Broke in,” I responded automatically though I couldn’t for the life of me figure out where that came from.
I watched in confusion as a delighted smile slowly stole across his face.
“Why did I just say that?”
He chuckled.
“Anytime I ever discuss the way we first met, I always claim to have arrived in your apartment and you always say I broke in.” He touched my temple. “Perhaps you haven’t completely forgotten me after all.”
I shivered at the soft touch, but refrained from agreeing with him. I didn’t want to encourage him or give him false hope.
He then went on to discuss in great detail the way we met, how we fell in love, what we discovered about my true lineage, the Stargis King’s attack on us, and how our botched marriage revealed a binding spell blocking my magic. Everything he and Roderick had done to unbind my magic and help me assimilate the Stargis’ core magic had failed. When I disappeared and they couldn’t find me, Jareth nearly lost his mind.
“I became frantic, searching for you after my illness suddenly disappeared and you went missing. Your uncle—well I guess I should be referring to him as your father now.” He shook his head like it was the damnedest thing. I had to agree with him. “We assumed you and Kheelan had been kidnapped and taken by whoever it was who had kidnapped the Stargis, bound your magic, and tried to have you killed. I thought for sure you would be dead within days. But I continued to sense you through our infinity marks. I knew you were still alive. I didn’t know how it was possible, but King Roderick and I didn’t let up our search for you. We’ve barely rested since you disappeared.”
I rubbed my forehead, frustrated with this new information, frustrated that I couldn’t remember any of it, and weirdly grateful that Kheelan had kidnapped me so my father could unbind my magic and I could absorb the Stargis magic. Jareth must have been thinking along the same lines.
“I hate to admit this, but my sneaky, backstabbing little brother managed to save your life. He came through for you when I couldn’t.”
I lifted an eyebrow, my lips turning down at the corners.
“Don’t paint him a saint just yet. He may have saved me, but he and Rodri tried to have us killed. They were the cause of your illness, and they took advantage of my memory loss. I hate opportunists. I’m grateful to be alive, but they’ve hurt a lot of people.”
Jareth studied me for a moment, looking hesitant to say what was on his mind, but clearly needing to get something off his chest.
“What is it?”
“Did you…are your feelings for Kheelan…do you love him?”
I looked down at the quilt covering my lap, finding it terribly interesting all of a sudden.
“I don’t really know how to answer that.”
“You either do or you don’t,” he said in a curt voice.
“You make it sound simple, but it isn’t. He said he loved me. He said I loved him. I had no reason to doubt his word and no memory to dispute it. I was alone, vulnerable, scared, and Kheelan was confident, kind, charismatic, and did everything he could to make me happy. I think if he hadn’t cared for me at all, if his feelings for me had been fake and he had simply been trying to get me to marry him for power alone, the entire thing wouldn’t have been so convincing. The moments we shared and the way we bonded wouldn’t have been quite so intense.”
“And when he kissed you…did you enjoy it?”
The fire in Jareth’s eyes made me feel defensive. He already knew the answer to that question.
“That subject’s not really your business.”
“I think I have a right to know if my fated mate enjoyed kissing my brother.”
I clamped down on the anger engulfing me. Now was not the time to say things I might regret later, but man did I feel angry.
“I thought he was my fiancé. I thought I was going to marry him.”
“That’s a yes, then.”
He stood to his feet, a thunderous look on his face.
Guilt slammed into me, making that boiling anger suffuse throughout my system until all rational thought fled.
How dare he make me feel guilty. How dare he make me feel as if I’d done something wrong.
I leapt to my feet and pointed an accusing finger at him.
“Fine. Do you want the details? Do you want to torture us both by making me share every single intimate moment I had with Kheelan? Would you like to know how often he took me in his arms, held me close, and kissed my worries away? Do you want to know how often he told me he loved me or how wonderful that made me feel or all the nights he held me in his arms to chase away my nightmares of you?” A low snarl escaped him, but I pressed on, wanting to hurt him, wanting to punish him, punish someone for how angry and awful I felt. “Does it help you to know that I responded to his kisses? That I kissed him back? That I felt things for him and developed feelings for him, laughed with him, trained with him, and built a relationship with him that even now makes me miss him? Does it help you to know that I’m furious that he lied to me? That I’m devastated he betrayed me because that means I cared for him as more than just a friend? Do you really want to know these things?”
