by P. C. Cast
“Give it a rest, would ya? I won’t do anything stupid!” I leaned over and blew out the fat pillar candle that was on the end table between our beds.
The darkness of the room was comforting, and when neither of us had said anything for a little while I felt myself beginning to drift off, until Aphrodite’s voice snapped me back to über-aware.
“Are we going back to the House of Night tomorrow?”
“I think we have to,” I said slowly. “No matter what, the House of Night is our home, and the fledglings and vampyres there are our people. We have to go back to them.”
“Well, you better get some sleep. Tomorrow you’re going to land right in the middle of what one of my mom’s ex-military assistants would call a huge cluster fuck,” Aphrodite said in her best happily sarcastic tone.
As usual, Aphrodite was as right as she was annoying.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Zoey
After Aphrodite’s gloomy, but probably accurate, prediction I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep, but exhaustion caught up with me. I closed my eyes and then, for a little while there was blissful nothingness. Sadly, bliss didn’t ever seem to last very long in my life.
In my dream the island was so blue and beautiful it dazzled me. I was standing on . . . I looked around . . . the roof of a castle! One of those real old-looking castles, made of big blocks of rough stone. The roof was massively cool. Framing it were those stone-sticking-up-things that looked like a giant’s teeth. There were plants everywhere on the roof. I even noticed lemon and orange trees, branches all heavy and full of sweet-smelling fruit. In the center of everything was a fountain in the shape of a beautiful naked woman whose hands were lifted over her head, and from those cupped hands flowed crystal water. Something about the stone woman looked familiar, but my gaze kept getting pulled from the gorgeous rooftop garden to the even more awesome view that stretched around the castle.
Holding my breath, I moved to the edge of the roof and looked down and down and down and out at the brilliant blue of the sea. The water was beyond beautiful. It was the color of dreams and laughter and perfect summer skies. The island itself was made of jagged mountains, covered in unusual-looking pine trees that reminded me of giant umbrellas. The castle was at the very top of the highest of the island’s mountains, and as I peered down in the distance I could see graceful villas and a pretty little town.
Everything was bathed in the blue of the sea, which gave the place a sense of magick. I inhaled the breeze, smelling salt and oranges. The day was sunny—the sky utterly clear of clouds, but in my dream the brightness of it didn’t bother my eyes at all. I loved it! It was a little cool, and more than a little windy, but I didn’t care. I liked the crispness of the breeze against my skin. At that moment the island was the color of aquamarines, but I could imagine how it would look as dusk approached and the sun no longer ruled the sky. The blue would deepen, darken, and change to sapphire.
My dreaming self smiled. Sapphire . . . The island would turn the exact color of my tattoos. I tilted back my head and threw my arms wide, embracing the loveliness of this place I’d created out of my sleeping imagination.
“So it seems I cannot escape you, even when I flee your presence,” Kalona said.
He was behind me. His voice crawled across the skin of my back, up over my shoulders, and wrapped around my body. Slowly, I let my arms drop to my sides. I did not turn around.
“You’re the one who sneaks around in people’s dreams, not me.” I was glad my voice sounded calm and über-under-control.
“So you are still unwilling to admit you are drawn to me?” His voice was deep and seductive.
“Look, I didn’t try to find you. All I meant when I closed my eyes was to sleep.” I spoke almost automatically, avoiding his question and willing myself not to remember the last memory I’d had of his voice and his arms around me.
“You are obviously sleeping alone. Were you with someone else, it would be much more difficult for you to be touched by me.”
I suppressed the confused longing his voice made me feel and filed away that little bit of info—sleeping with someone did make it more difficult for him to reach me, just as Stark had told me the night before. “That’s none of your business,” I said.
“You are correct. All of those sons of man who swarm around you, eager to bask in your presence, are completely beneath my concern.”
I didn’t bother to call him on his twisting of what I’d said. I was too busy trying to stay calm and will myself to wake up.
“You chase me away from you, yet you find me in your dreams. What does that say about you, A-ya?”
“That is not my name! Not in this lifetime!”
“‘Not in this lifetime’ you say. That means you have accepted the truth. You know your soul is the reincarnation of the maiden fashioned by the Ani Yunwiya to love me. Perhaps that is why you keep coming to me in your dreams, because even though your waking mind resists, your soul, your spirit, your very essence yearns to be with me.”
He used the ancient word for the Cherokee people—my grand-ma’s people and mine. I knew the legend. A beautiful, winged immortal had come to live with the Cherokee, but instead of being a benevolent earthbound god, he was cruel. He abused the women and used the men. Finally, the Wise Women of the tribes, known as Ghigua Women, came together and created a maiden from the earth. They gave A-ya life, as well as special gifts. Her purpose was to use Kalona’s lust to lure him underground so that he could be trapped within the earth. Their plan worked. Kalona couldn’t resist A-ya and he was trapped within the earth—or at least he had been until Neferet had freed him.
And now that I’d shared a memory with A-ya, I knew only too well the truth of that legend.
Truth, my mind reminded me. Use the strength of the truth to fight him.
“Yes,” I admitted. “I know I am the reincarnation of A-ya.” I drew a deep, centering breath, turned around, and faced Kalona. “But I am today’s reincarnation of her, which means I make my own choices, and I will not choose to be with you.”
“And yet you continue to come to me in your dreams.”
I wanted to deny that I’d come to him—to say something smart and High Priestess–like, but all I could do was stare at him. He was so beautiful! As usual, he was underdressed. I guess the better description would be undressed. He had on jeans, and that was it. His skin was bronze and perfect. It covered his muscles with a smoothness that made me want to touch him. Kalona’s amber eyes were luminous. They met my gaze with a warmth and kindness that made my breath catch. He appeared about eighteen, but when he smiled he seemed even younger, more boyish, more accessible. Everything about him screamed super hot guy I should be going crazy over!
But that was a lie. Kalona was actually super-scary and super-dangerous, and I could never forget that—no matter what he appeared to be—no matter what the memories planted deep within my soul yearned for him to be.
“Ah, so you finally deign to look at me.”
“Well, you wouldn’t go away and leave me alone, so I figured I’d be polite,” I said with forced nonchalance.
Kalona threw back his head and laughed. The sound was infectious and warm and very seductive. It made me ache to move closer to him and join him in the freedom of his laughter. I wanted it so much that I’d almost taken a step toward him when his wings chose that moment to stir. They quivered and then spread partially open so that the sunlight glistened against their black depths, illuminating the indigo and purple that usually hid within their darkness.
The sight of them was like running into an invisible wall. I remembered again what he was—a dangerous fallen immortal who would like to steal my free will and, eventually, my soul.
“I don’t see why you’re laughing,” I said quickly. “I’m telling you the truth. I’m looking at you because I’m polite, even though I really wish you’d fly away and let me dream in peace.”
“Oh, my A-ya.” His expression sobered. “I can never leav
e you in peace. You and I are bound. We will be each other’s salvation, or each other’s doom.” He took a step closer to me and I mirrored his movement by taking a step backward. “Which shall it be? Salvation or doom?”
“I can only speak for myself.” I made my voice stay calm, and was even able to add a touch of sarcasm to it, though I could feel the cool stone of the balcony balustrade pressing like the walls of a prison cell against my back. “But both sound pretty bad. Salvation? Jeesh, you’re reminding me of the People of Faith, and since they’d consider you a fallen angel, that doesn’t make you much of an expert on salvation. Doom? Well, seriously, you’re still reminding me of the People of Faith. Since when did you become so boringly religious?”
In two steps he closed the space between us. His arms became bars, caging me between the stone balustrade and him. His wings shivered, opening around him so that he eclipsed the sun with his own dark brilliance. I could feel the terrible, wonderful chill that always emanated from him. It should have repelled me, but it didn’t. That awful coldness drew me at a soul-deep level. I wanted to press myself against him and be carried away by the sweet pain he could bring.
“Boring? Little A-ya, my lost love, for centuries mortals have been calling me many things, but boring is not one of them.”
Kalona towered over me. There was just so much of him! And there was all that naked skin . . . I wrenched my gaze from his chest and looked up into his eyes. He was smiling down at me, perfectly relaxed and completely in control. He was so darn hot I could hardly breathe. Sure, Stark and Heath and, yes, Erik, were cute guys—exceptionally cute guys, actually. But they were nothing compared to Kalona’s immortal beauty. He was a masterpiece, the statue of a god that personified physical perfection, only he was even more attractive because he was alive—he was here—he was here for me.
“I-I want you to step back.” I tried unsuccessfully to keep my voice from shaking.
“Is that truly what you want, Zoey?”
His use of my name jolted through me, affecting me much more than when he called me A-ya. My fingers pressed hard into the stone of the castle as I tried to ground myself and not fall under his spell. I drew a deep breath and got ready to lie and tell him yes, I sure as hell did want him to step away from me.
Use the power of truth. The words whispered through my mind.
What was the truth? That I had to fight myself not to leap into his arms? That I couldn’t stop thinking about A-ya’s surrender to him? Or that other truth—that I wished I was just a normal kid whose most stressful problems were homework and mean girls?
Tell the truth.
I blinked. I could tell the truth.
“Right now what I really want is sleep. I want to be normal. I want to worry about school and paying my car insurance and how stupidly expensive gas is right now. And I’d seriously appreciate it if you could do anything about those things.” I held his gaze with my own, letting that one sliver of truth lend me strength.
His smile was young and mischievous. “Why don’t you come to me, Zoey?”
“Well, see, that wouldn’t actually give me any of those things I just mentioned.”
“I could give you so much more than those mundane things.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you could, but none of it would be normal, and right now what I’d truly like more than anything is a very big dose of normal.”
He met my gaze, and I could tell that he was waiting for me to falter, for me to get all nervous and stuttery, or worse, to panic. But I had told him the truth, and that was a small, shining victory for me, one that lent me power. It was Kalona who finally looked away, Kalona whose voice was suddenly halting and unsure. “I don’t have to be like this. For you, I could be more.” His eyes met mine again. “I could choose a different path were you by my side.”
I tried not to show the flood of emotions his words had caused within me as he touched the part of me that A-ya had awakened.
Find the truth, my mind insisted; and, again, I found it and spoke it. “I wish I could believe you, but I don’t. You’re gorgeous and magical, but you’re also a liar. I don’t trust you.”
“But you could,” he said.
“No,” I said honestly. “I don’t think I could.”
“Try. Give me a chance. Come to me and let me prove myself to you. Truly, my love, say one small word, yes.” He bent and, in a movement that was graceful and strong and seductive, the fallen immortal whispered into my ear, allowing his lips to only brush my skin enough to send chills skittering through my body. “Give yourself to me and I promise that I will fulfill your deepest dreams.”
My breath was coming fast and I pressed my palms harder against the stone at my back. At that instant, I only wanted to say one word, yes. I knew what would happen if I did. I’d already experienced that kind of surrender through A-ya.
He chuckled, a sound that was deep and confident. “Go on, my lost love. One word, yes, and your life will forever be changed.”
His lips weren’t by my ear anymore. Instead his gaze had captured mine again. He was smiling into my eyes. He was young and perfect, powerful and kind.
And I wanted to say yes so badly I was afraid to speak.
“Love me,” he murmured. “Love only me.”
Through my desire for him my mind processed what he was saying, and I finally found a word other than yes. “Neferet,” I said.
He frowned. “What of her?”
“You say I’m supposed to love only you, but you’re not even free. You’re with Neferet.”
Some of his easy confidence disappeared. “Neferet is not your concern.”
His words made my heart squeeze and I realized that a big part of me had wanted him to deny that he was with her—to tell me that was over. Disappointment lent me strength, and I said, “I think she is my concern. Last time I saw her she tried to kill me, and that was when I was rejecting you. I say yes to you and she’s going to lose her mind—what’s left of it. On me. Again.”
“Why are we discussing Neferet? She is not here. Look at the beauty that surrounds us. Consider what it would be to rule this place at my side—to help me bring back the ancient ways to this world that has become far too modern.” One of his hands slipped down to caress my arm. I ignored the sensations that were shivering across my skin and the alarm bells that were blaring in my head at his comment about bringing back the ancient ways, and put on my best whiny teenage tone.
“Seriously, Kalona, I really don’t want any more drama with Neferet. I don’t think I could handle it.”
He threw his hands up in frustration. “Why are you still speaking of the Tsi Sgili? I command you to forget her! She is nothing to us.”
The instant his arms no longer imprisoned me against the stone, I scrambled sideways, determined to put some space between us. I needed to think, and I couldn’t do that with his arms around me.
Kalona followed, this time backing me against one of the low parts of the rooftop wall—a gap in the stone teeth. There was only support as high as the back of my knees. From there up I could feel the cool wind brushing against my back and moving my hair. I didn’t need to look behind me. I knew the drop-off was dizzying and that the blue of the sea waited far, far below.
“You cannot escape me.” Kalona’s amber eyes narrowed. I saw anger beginning to simmer beneath his seductive exterior. “And you must realize that I am going to rule this world very soon. I will bring the ancient ways back, and in doing so I will divide these modern people, separating the wheat from the chaff. The wheat shall stay by my side, growing and thriving as they feed me. The chaff shall be burnt into nothingness.”
I felt a terrible sinking inside me. He was using old, poetic words, but I had absolutely no doubt he was describing the end of the world as I knew it, and the destruction of countless people—vampyres, fledglings, and humans. Feeling sick, I tilted back my head and gave him a totally clueless look. “Wheat? Chaff? Sorry, you lost me. You’ll have to translate that into something I ge
t.”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment. He only studied me silently. Then, with a slight smile curling his full lips, he reached out and caressed the side of my face with his hand. “You play a dangerous game, my little lost love.”
My body froze.
His hand slid slowly from my cheek down the side of my neck, searing a path of cold heat across my skin.
“You toy with me. You think you can act the schoolgirl who understands nothing more than the next dress she will wear or the next boy she will kiss. You have underestimated me. I know you, A-ya. I know you too well.”
Kalona’s hand continued down and I sucked in a shocked gasp when he cupped my breast. He rubbed his thumb across the most sensitive spot there and a frigid stab of desire shook me. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t keep myself from trembling at his caress. There on the rooftop of my dream, with the sea behind me and Kalona before me, I was trapped by his hypnotizing touch and I knew then with a terrible certainty that it wasn’t just A-ya’s memories that drew me to him. It was me—my heart—my soul—my desires.
“No, please stop.” I meant for the words to come out loud and strong, a command he couldn’t ignore, but instead I sounded breathy and weak.
“Stop?” He chuckled again. “It seems you have lost your truth. You do not wish I would stop. Your body yearns for my touch. You cannot deny it. So shake off this foolish resistance. Accept me and your place by my side. Join me and together we will create a new world.”
I swayed toward him, but managed to whisper, “I can’t.”
“If you do not join me you will be my enemy, and I will burn you with the rest of the chaff.” As he’d been speaking his gaze had moved from my face down to my breasts. Now he cupped both of them in his hands. His amber eyes had gone all soft and looked unfocused as he caressed me, sending icy waves of unwanted desire through my body, and sickness through my heart, my mind, and my soul.
