Текст книги "Burned"

Автор книги: P. C. Cast

Соавторы: Kristin Cast,P. C. Cast
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Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

He lifted himself up then and, struggling to get his breathing under control, stared down at me.

Goddess, he was gorgeous! Just moments before he’d been mortally wounded, beaten, bloody, and so broken he could hardly move. Now he radiated energy and health and strength.

“That was the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said. Then his eyes widened. “Your tattoos!” He touched my face reverently. I turned my head so that his fingers could trace the filigree markings that, once again, covered my back and shoulders. Then I lifted my hand so he could press his palm against mine and the sapphire symbols there.

“They’re all back,” I said. “The elements brought them.”

Stark shook his head in wonder. “I felt it. I didn’t know what was happening, but I felt it with you.” He pulled me into his arms again. “I felt everything with you, my queen.”

Before I kissed him, I said, “And I’m a part of you now, my Guardian.”

Stark kissed me for a long time, and then he just held me close to him, touching me gently as if he was trying to convince himself I wasn’t going to evaporate from his arms.

He kept holding me when I cried for Heath, and he told me about how Heath had made the choice to move on, and how brave he’d been.

Stark hadn’t really had to tell me that part, though. I knew how brave Heath really was, just like I knew his bravery was part of how I’d recognize him again. That, and his love. Always his love for me.

After I was done crying and mourning and remembering, I wiped my eyes and let Stark help me to my feet.

“Are you ready to go home now?” I asked him.

“Oh, yeah. Home sounds good. But, uh, Z, how am I getting there?”

I grinned at him. “By trusting me.”

“Ach, well, it’ll be a wee easy trip then, won’t it?”

“Where the heck did you get that Irish accent?”

“Irish! Are yie deaf, wumman?” he growled the words at me while I frowned at him. Then Stark’s laughter filled the grove. He hugged me, and said, “Scottish, Z, not Irish. And you’ll see where I got it real soon.”

Chapter 31

Stevie Rae

As the sun set, Stevie Rae’s eyes opened. For a second she was super confused. It was dark, but that didn’t disorient her—that was cool. She could feel the earth around her, cradling and shielding her—that was cool, too. There was a slight movement off to her side, and she turned her head. Her keen night vision was able to differentiate one depth of blackness from another, and the huge wing took form, followed by a body.

Rephaim.

Everything came back to her then: the red fledglings, Dallas, and Rephaim. Always Rephaim.

“You stayed down here with me?”

His eyes opened, and she felt her own widen in surprise. The blazing scarlet within them had calmed to a rusty color that was more amber than red.

“I did. You’re vulnerable when the sun is in the sky.”

She thought he sounded nervous, almost apologetic, so she grinned at him. “Thanks, even though it’s kinda stalkerlike of you to watch me sleep.”

“I did not watch you sleep!”

He said it so quickly that it was obvious he was lying. She opened her mouth to tell him it was okay—that he didn’t need to do it all the time, but that it was real nice of him to be sure she stayed safe, especially after the day she’d had—and her phone chose then to chirp its “You have voice mail” sound.

“It has been making noise. A lot of noise,” Rephaim told her.

“Crap. I can’t hear nothing when I’m ’sleep like that.” She sighed and reluctantly picked up the iPhone from where she’d set it beside her. “I guess I’d better face the dang music.” Stevie Rae opened the screen, saw the battery was almost dead, and sighed again. She tapped to the missed-call screen. “Ah, crap. Six missed calls. One from Lenobia and five from Aphrodite.” Heart pounding, she clicked into Lenobia’s first. Putting it on speaker she glanced at Rephaim. “You might as well hear what’s goin’ on. They’re probably gonna be talkin’ ’bout you.”

But Lenobia’s voice didn’t sound all “Holy crap you’re with a Raven Mocker and I’m gonna have to come hunt you down!” She seemed totally normal. “Stevie Rae, call me when you awaken. Kramisha said she wasn’t sure where you were, but that you’re safe even though Dallas ran off. I’ll come get you right away.” She hesitated, lowered her voice, and added, “She also told me what happened with the other red fledglings. I’ve sent prayers to Nyx for their spirits. Blessed be, Stevie Rae.”

She smiled up at Rephaim. “Aw, that was nice of her.”

“Dallas hasn’t reached her yet.”

“No,” she said, her smile going out. “Definitely not.” She turned her attention back to the phone. “Four missed calls from Aphrodite, but she only left one message. Here’s hoping it’s not scary bad news.” She clicked the play button. Aphrodite’s voice sounded tinny and distant, but no less bitchy.

“Oh for shit’s sake, answer your fucking phone! Or are you in your casket? Goddess! Time zones are annoying. Anyway, update: Z’s still an eggplant, and Stark’s still checked out and being sliced up. That’s the good news. The bad news is my newest vision stars you, a hottie Indian kid, and the biggest baddie of all the Raven Mockers, Rephaim. We need to talk ’cause I have one of my feelings about this, which means Not Good. So hurry the hell up and call me. If I’m sleeping, I’ll actually wake up and answer you.”

“Big surprise that she hung up without saying bye,” Stevie Rae said. Not wanting to stay in the same room with the words and the biggest baddie of all the Raven Mockers, Rephaim, hovering around, she shoved her phone in her pocket and started up the basement stairs. She didn’t have to look behind her to make sure he was following. She knew he would.

The night was cool, but not cold, right on the edge of that freezing/slushy line. Stevie Rae felt sorry for the poor people in the houses surrounding the Gilcrease and was glad to see a bunch of the lights were back on. But at the same time, it gave her an eerie “we’re being watched” feeling, and she hesitated on the front porch of the mansion.

“No one is about. They’re putting their focus on fixing the power to the people first. This will be one of the last places they come, especially at night.”

Relieved, Stevie Rae nodded and left the porch, walking aimlessly toward the fountain that sat silent and cold in the middle of the yard.

“Your people are going to find out about me,” Rephaim said.

“Some of them already have.” Stevie Rae reached down and touched the top edge of the fountain, breaking off an icicle that was suspended there and letting it fall into the water in the basin below.

“What will you do?” Rephaim stood beside her. They both stared down at the dark fountain water as if they could discover the answer there.

Finally, Stevie Rae said, “I think the question is more like, what will you do?”

“What would you have me do?”

“Rephaim, you can’t answer my question with a question.”

He made a derisive noise. “You did mine.”

“Rephaim, stop. Tell me what you want to do about, well, us.”

She stared at his changed eyes, wishing his features were easier to read. He took so long to answer that she thought he wasn’t going to, and frustration gnawed at her. She had to get back to the House of Night. She had to do damage control there before Dallas messed everything up.

“What I would do is stay with you.”

His words, simple, honest, and said in one rush didn’t sink in at first. At first she just looked at him questioningly, unable to fully grasp what he’d said. And then she truly heard him, and understood, and she felt an unexpected, unwanted, rush of joy.

“It’s going to be bad,” she said. “But I want you to stay with me, too.”

“They’ll try to kill me. You must know that.”

“I won’t let them!” Stevie Rae reached out and took his hand. Slowly, very slowly, his fingers twined with hers, and he gave a little tug, pulling her closer to his side. “I won’t let them,” she repeated. She didn’t look at him. Instead, she held his hand and stole one small moment together. She tried not to think too much. She tried not to question everything. She stared down into the still, black water of the fountain, and the cloud that was blanketing the moon lifted, revealing their reflection. I’m a girl who’s somehow been bound to the humanity of a guy who is a beast. Aloud, she said, “I’m bound to you, Rephaim.”

Without any hesitation he said, “And I you, Stevie Rae.”

As he spoke, the water rippled, as if Nyx herself had breathed across its surface, and their reflection changed. The image revealed in the water was Stevie Rae holding the hand of a tall, muscular Native American boy. His hair was thick and long, and as black as the raven feathers that were braided into its length. His chest was bare, and he was hotter than an Oklahoma blacktop in the middle of the summer.

Stevie Rae stayed very still, afraid if she moved the reflection would change. But she couldn’t help smiling and, softly she said, “Wow, you’re really pretty.”

The guy in the reflection blinked a bunch of times, like he wasn’t sure he was seeing clearly, then in Rephaim’s voice, he said, “Yes, but I don’t have wings.”

Stevie Rae’s heart fluttered, and her stomach tightened. She wanted to say something profound and really smart, or at least a little romantic. Instead, she heard herself say, “Sure, that’s true, but you are tall and you got those cool feathers braided into your hair.”

In the reflection, the boy lifted the hand that wasn’t holding hers and touched his hair. “They’re not much if you compare them to wings,” he said, but he smiled at Stevie Rae.

“Well, yeah, but I’ll bet they’re easier to fit into shirts.”

He laughed, and with an obvious sense of wonder, let his hand touch his face. “Soft,” Rephaim said. “The human face is so soft.”

“Yeah, it is,” Stevie Rae said, totally mesmerized by what was happening in their reflection.

As slowly as he’d woven their fingers together, without taking his gaze from their reflection, Rephaim reached from his face to hers. His hand touched her skin lightly, gently. He stroked her cheek and let his fingers brush her lips. She smiled, then, and couldn’t help an awkward giggle. “It’s just that you’re so pretty!”

Rephaim’s human reflection smiled, too. “You’re pretty,” he said so softly she almost didn’t hear him.

Heart hammering, she said, “You think so? Really?”

“Really. I just can’t ever tell you. I can’t ever let you know how I really feel.”

“You are now,” she said.

“I know. For the first time I feel—”

Rephaim’s words cut off midsentence. The reflection of the boy wavered and then disappeared. In its place Darkness lifted from the still water, forming the shape of a raven’s wings and the body of a powerful immortal.

“Father!”

Rephaim didn’t need to speak the name. Stevie Rae knew what had come between them the moment it had happened. She pulled her hand from his. He resisted for only an instant before letting her go. Then he turned to face her, bringing one dark wing forward to blot out her view of their reflection in the fountain.

“He’s returned to his body. I can feel it.”

Stevie Rae didn’t trust herself to speak. She could only nod.

“He’s not here, though. He’s far away from me. Must still be in Italy.” Rephaim was speaking rapidly. Stevie Rae took a step away from him, still unable to say anything at all. “He feels different. Something has changed.” Then it was like his thoughts were catching up to him, and Rephaim’s eyes met hers. “Stevie Rae? What are we going to—”

Stevie Rae gasped, cutting off his words. Earth swirled around her, filling her senses with a joyous dance of homecoming. The cold Tulsa landscape shimmered, shifted, and suddenly she was surrounded by amazing trees, all green and shiny-leafed, and a bed made of thick, soft moss. Then the image focused, and Zoey was there, in Stark’s arms, laughing and whole again.

“Zoey!” Stevie Rae shouted, and the image disappeared, leaving only the joy of it and the certainty that her BFF was whole again and most definitely alive. Grinning, she went to Rephaim and threw her arms around him. “Zoey’s alive!”

His arms tightened around her, but only for the space of a breath, and then they both remembered the truth, and at the same time, stepped away from each other.

“My father returns.”

“So does Zoey.”

“And for us that means we cannot be together,” he said.

Stevie Rae felt sick and sad. She shook her head. “No, Rephaim. It only means that if you let it.”

“Look at me!” he cried. “I’m not the boy in the reflection. I’m a beast. I don’t belong with you.”

“That’s not what your heart says!” she shouted back at him.

His shoulders slumped, and he looked away from her. “But, Stevie Rae, my heart has never mattered.”

She stepped close to him. Automatically, he faced her. Their gazes met, and with a terrible despair she saw that the scarlet was, once again, blazing in his eyes. “Well, when you decide your heart matters as much to you as it does to me, come find me again. It should be easy. Just follow your heart.” Without any hesitation, she put her arms around him and held him tightly. Stevie Rae ignored the fact that he didn’t return her embrace. Instead, she whispered, “I’ll miss you,” before she left him.

As she started walking down Gilcrease Road, the night wind brought to her Rephaim’s whispered, I’ll miss you, too . . .

Zoey

“It’s really beautiful,” I said, looking up at the tree and the zillions of dangling strips of cloth tied there. “What do you call it again?”

“A hanging tree,” Stark said.

“Doesn’t seem a very romantic name for something so cool,” I said.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought at first, too, but it’s kinda grown on me.”

“Ooh! Look at that piece. It’s so sparkly.” I pointed up at a thin ribbon of gold that had suddenly appeared. Unlike the rest of the strips of cloth, it wasn’t tied to another. Instead, it floated free down and down until it wafted just above us.

Stark reached up and snagged it. He held it out to me so that I could touch its bright softness. “It’s what I followed to find you.”

“Really? It’s like a thread of gold.”

“Yep, gold’s what it reminded me of, too.”

“And you followed this to find me?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, well, then. Let’s see if it’ll work twice,” I said.

“Just tell me what to do. I’m yours to command.” Eyes flashing with humor, Stark bowed to me.

“Stop messing around. This is serious.”

“Oh, Z, don’t you see? It isn’t that I don’t think this is serious. It’s just that I totally trust you. I know you’ll get me back with you. I believe in you, mo bann ri.”

“You have picked up some weird words while I’ve been gone.”

He grinned at me. “Just you wait. You haven’t heard nothin’ yet.”

“You know what, boy? I’m tired of waiting.” I wrapped one end of the golden thread around his wrist. I kept the other end tightly fisted in my hand. “Close your eyes,” I said. Without questioning me, he did as I said. I tiptoed and kissed him. “See you soon, Guardian.”

Then I turned away from the hanging tree and the grove and all the magic and mysteries of Nyx’s realm. I faced the yawning blackness that seemed to stretch into forever. Spreading my arms wide, I said, “Spirit, come to me.” The last of the five elements, and the one I’d always felt closest to, filled me, making my healed soul thrum with joy and compassion, strength and—finally—hope. “Now, please take me home!” As I spoke, I ran forward and, completely unafraid, leaped into the darkness.

I thought it would be like diving off a cliff, but I was wrong. It was gentler, softer. More like riding an elevator down from the top of a skyscraper. I felt myself settle, and I knew I was back.

I didn’t open my eyes right away. First I wanted to concentrate—to savor each returning sensation. I felt that I was lying on something hard and cool. I drew in a deep breath and was surprised to smell the cedar tree that used to be on the corner down from my mom’s house in Broken Arrow. I only heard the soft murmuring of whispered voices at first, but after just a few breaths that changed with Aphrodite’s shout of “Oh, for shit’s sake, open your eyes! I know you’re in there!”

I did open my eyes then. “Jeesh, are you from a trailer? Do you have to be so loud?”

“Trailer? Look, you’re not supposed to be cussing, and that’s definitely a nasty word to me,” Aphrodite said. Then she smiled and laughed and pulled me into a super hard hug that I was sure she’d deny ever doing later. “You’re really back? And you’re not, like, brain-damaged or anything?”

“I am!” I laughed. “And I’m no more brain-damaged than I was when I left.”

Over her shoulder Darius appeared. His eyes were suspiciously shiny as he fisted a hand over his heart and bowed to me. “Welcome back, High Priestess.”

“Thanks, Darius.” I grinned at him and held out my hand so he could help me stand. I had weird jelly legs, so I kept hold of him as the room rolled and pitched around me.

“She needs food and drink,” said a super in-charge-like voice.

“Right away, Majesty,” came the immediate response.

I finally blinked the dizziness clear, so that I could see. “Wow, a throne! Seriously?”

The beautiful woman sitting on the carved marble throne smiled at me. “Welcome back, young queen,” she said.

“Young queen,” I repeated, half-laughing. But as my eyes traveled around the room, my laughter dissolved, and the throne, the cool room, and questions of queendom utterly evaporated.

Stark was there. He was lying on a huge stone. There was a vampyre Warrior standing at his head, and the guy was holding a razor-sharp dagger above Stark’s chest, which was already bloody and covered with knife slashes.

“No! Stop it!” I cried. I pulled away from Darius and started to lunge toward the vamp.

More quickly than she should have been able to move, the queen was suddenly standing between the Warrior and me. She put a hand on my shoulder and spoke one question softly to me. “What did Stark tell you?”

I shook myself mentally, trying to think beyond the bloody sight of my Warrior, my Guardian.

My Guardian . . .

I looked at the queen. “That’s how Stark got to the Otherworld. That Warrior. He’s really helping him.”

“My Guardian,” the queen corrected me. “Yes, he is helping Stark. But now his quest is complete. It is your responsibility as his queen to bring him back.”

I opened my mouth to ask her how, but closed it before I spoke. I didn’t have to ask her. I knew. And it was my responsibility to help my Guardian return.

She must have seen it in my eyes, because the queen bowed her head, ever so slightly, and then stepped aside.

I walked over to the man she’d called her Guardian. Sweat slicked his muscular chest. He was completely focused on Stark. It seemed he didn’t see or hear anyone else in the room. As he lifted the knife, obviously getting ready to make another cut, the torchlight glinted off a golden bracelet that was fashioned to twist around his wrist. I understood then where the golden thread that had led Stark to me had come from, and I felt a rush of warmth for the queen’s Guardian. I touched his wrist gently, beside the piece of gold, and said, “Guardian, you can stop now. It’s time for him to come back.”

His hand stopped instantly. A tremor went through the Guardian’s body. When he looked at me, I saw that the pupils of his blue eyes were fully dilated.

“You can stop now,” I repeated gently. “And thank you for helping Stark get to me.”

He blinked, and his eyes cleared. His voice was gravelly, and I almost smiled when I recognized the Scottish accent Stark had mimicked for me. “Aye, wumman . . . as yie wish.” He staggered back. I knew that the queen had taken him in her arms, and I could hear her murmuring things to him. I knew other Warriors were in the room, too, and I could feel Aphrodite and Darius watching me—but I ignored them all.

To me, Stark was the only person in the room. The only thing that mattered.

I went to him where he was lying on the stone in his pooling blood. This time the scent of it came to me, and it did affect me. Sweet and heady, it made my mouth water. But it had to stop. Now was not the time for my head to be messed up by Stark’s blood and the desire that lingered in me for it.

I lifted my hand. “Water, come to me.” When the soft dampness of the element surrounded me, I waved my hand over Stark’s bloody body. “Wash this from him.” The element did as I asked, raining gently on him. I watched it clean the blood from his chest, pour over the stone, follow the intricate knotwork all down the sides of the huge boulder and fill the two grooves that cut into the floor on either side of it. Horns, I realized. They remind me of super big horns.

Weirdly enough, when the blood was all washed away, the grooves weren’t white like the rest of the floor. Instead, they shimmered a beautiful, mystical black, reminding me of the night sky.

But I didn’t take time to wonder at the magic I felt there. I went to Stark. His body was clean now. The wounds weren’t bleeding anymore, but they were raw and red. And then I realized what I was seeing and I drew in a deep breath. On each side of Stark’s chest the slash work formed arrows, complete with feathers and pointed, triangular tips. They made a perfect balance to the burned broken arrow over his heart.

I put my hand out then and rested it on top of that scar, the one from the time he’d saved my life—the first time he’d saved my life. I was surprised to find that I still clutched the golden thread. Gently, I lifted Stark’s wrist and wrapped the thread of gold around there. The silky length hardened, twisted, and closed, looking much like the old Guardian’s, except on Stark’s bracelet I could see caved images of three arrows—one of them broken.

“Thank you, Goddess,” I whispered. “Thank you for everything.”

Then I placed my hand over Stark’s heart and leaned down. Just before I pressed my lips to his, I said, “Come back to your queen, Guardian. It’s all over now.” Then I kissed him.

As his eyelids fluttered and opened, I heard Nyx’s musical laughter fill my mind, and her voice saying:

No, daughter, it’s not all over. It’s just beginning . . .