A Thief of Nightshade (28 page)

Given turned to Aislinn, a curious look on her face. “What would you say to me if you could speak, I wonder? Would you even bother asking why I care about the Winter Court’s dealings? Or would you assume my actions malevolent no matter what my answer?” She paused.

“Doesn’t matter. You may think whatever you like. I’m not risking my life to save you. I’m risking it to save Avalar.”

Aubrey hurt with more than just fleeting pain; it was as if her soul had been sheared

away

and

only

negligible

remnants of what had once been a person remained. Bone. Muscle. Blood. Little else.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten anything. Harry offered her a place to stay but she decided ultimately the only place she wanted to be if she couldn’t be with Jullian was home. So wearing an old sweatshirt of Jullian’s and a ragged pair of yoga pants, she sat on the couch staring into the fireplace. No fire burned there, though it was plenty cold.

She just couldn’t muster the will to light it.

Aubrey felt Jullian’s absence with every breath she took. Worse than even the first few days of his disappearance, now she’d been taunted with hope and it had made living that much harder. Her mother had admitted to giving her something to calm her nerves at the graveside service and Aubrey had assumed it was the reason for her hallucinations. Knowing this gave her absolutely no comfort, nor did it remove the image of Avalar now permanently engraved in her mind.

How much time had passed since the funeral? It felt like days, weeks even.

Time had no meaning to her anymore because she slept all day and then when darkness fell she sat alone on the back deck gazing into shadows.

“Here, drink this.” Samantha walked out of the kitchen with a mug of tea in her hands and flipped on the television on her way to Aubrey.

Aubrey forced herself to sit upright and took the tea, sipping it and wondering over its lack of flavor. Nothing had any taste anymore. “Thanks,” she murmured.

“Aubs, I’m worried about you. You never go anywhere or see anyone. Harry called me again this morning.” Sam smiled sadly as she tossed the remote onto the couch beside Aubrey. “Here, it’s too quiet in this house.”

“Go where? Do what?” she asked half-heartedly because she didn’t expect an answer. How could she possibly tell Samantha what was really on her heart?

“Anywhere. You need to get out of this house, get away from everything that reminds you of him. This isn’t healthy.”

The thought of leaving the house paralyzed her with fear, though she couldn’t say why. She needed to be near him, near things Jullian had touched, places he’d gone. It felt like more than just grief. She touched her chest, thinking that she should feel something beneath her hand besides the soft cotton sweatshirt, but she didn’t know what.

“Come over to my place tonight. I’m having some people over. It’ll be good for you. You need human interaction.” Sam touched Aubrey gently on the shoulder.

“See you at seven?”

Aubrey shrugged. “Seven.”

A few minutes later, Aubrey heard the front door close and the sound of Sam’s truck as she pulled out of the driveway. Then nothing, as it had been since she could remember leaving the lake cabin.

Yet,

there

should

have

been

something, she felt sure of it. Aubrey stood up, set the mug on the end table and listened. Deafening silence greeted her.

She tried to remember, but came up blank, and was about to go upstairs to shower and change clothes when she glanced indifferently at Jullian’s grandfather clock that stood sentinel in the foyer. The pendulum still swung and the hands moved, keeping accurate time, but there was

no

sound.

She’d

grown

so

accustomed to hearing it that she’d failed to notice the sound’s absence.

It’s just a clock. Grant can probably fix it. You’re freaking yourself out for no reason.

A couple hours and a good long shower later, Aubrey apathetically made her way to Samantha’s, dismayed to find more than a few cars in the driveway when she arrived.

“Aubrielle! God, it’s good to see you.” Vincent, a friend she hadn’t seen in five years or so, stepped up to her door as she got out. He gave her a brief hug, leaving his hand on her shoulder when she pulled away.

“It’s been a long time,” Aubrey said.

“Yeah, it has. Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the funeral. Are you, I mean I know you aren’t okay, but are you okay?”

“As good as it gets, all things considered.”

He smiled. “Glad to hear it. Come on inside, there are quite a few people here who I’m sure you’ll be happy to see.”

Mindlessly, Aubrey let Vincent usher her inside, and as he’d promised, she was greeted by friends she hadn’t seen in years, some even decades. A handful of them were from Darlington. And after chatting for several hours about things she had unutterably little interest in, she finally made her way to Sam’s backyard.

Sam had moved since they’d roomed together and instead of having a tiny, sad excuse for a yard, Samantha had a beautiful view of the woods. The sun had set hours ago, leaving the forest dark and calm. A light breeze with the slightest bit of warmth blew, softly fanning her auburn hair across her face. She moved to brush it out of her eyes and saw something. There wasn’t much movement, but there was just enough that by the dull glow of Sam’s tiki torches, she caught it.

She smoothed her hair to one side of her neck and looked closer, seeing nothing but the feathered outlines of pine and oak trees.

“Why are you out here by yourself?”

Samantha asked gently.

Aubrey looked over her shoulder to see Samantha rest her back against the railing of the deck. “Because it’s either that or go home. I need a break, Sam. I can’t take all of this in at once.” She was somewhat surprised to hear the insistence in her own voice, the sureness of it.

Sam hesitated. The light from the torches reflected oddly in her eyes, giving the appearance of shimmering silver, but it was gone the moment Aubrey thought to get a better look.

“You’ve got half an hour. Then I’m dragging you inside to be with us if I have to.” Samantha smiled, but it was an afterthought to the terse tone of her voice.

She didn’t wait for a response before she ducked back into the house.

What is wrong with me? Aubrey wondered.

She

had

never

felt

uncomfortable around Samantha and Samantha had never been so impatient with her. She would chide and persuade, but this borderline aggression was unusual. Aubrey simply wasn’t herself.

Maybe she’d finally snapped and nothing in her life would ever be the same.

Suddenly, she saw movement again.

Straining to see against the darkness, Aubrey ran briskly down the stairs and stepped onto the lush grass of the lawn.

She stayed still for a time, her eyes locked on the shadows, debating whether she should go farther. Voices, merry and indistinct carried in the night air, seemingly near and far all at once. She thought she heard faint laughter but the sound grew louder and proved to be only the wind.

It had always been this way. Aubrey had tried so hard for so long to be what everyone else wanted her to be, but just like this night, she never fit their mold.

She had always wandered off, literally and figuratively. Before Jullian, she was always alone and now with him gone, she suddenly understood the meaning of the word silence, for it was all that remained in her heart. No tears. No cries. Just the mortal ache of what had once been.

GIVEN TOOK A LONG, CAREFUL BREATH.

HER
back throbbed worse than it had yet.

She guessed mostly from the fighting she’d done in Koldavere, but also because of Aislinn’s physical hold on her. She knew he was seething. She could see it through the flimsy binding she’d done and before long the spell would wear off completely.

Soon he would once again be Ellohim. So, in her want to give him as much freedom as she could, she silently unbound his speech.

“We aren’t far. It’s just over that hill and past the glen.” She didn’t expect him to respond. He didn’t know that he could.

She’d debated telling him a hundred times along the way everything about her past, all of the reasons why she had to do what she was doing. But every time she started to open her mouth, her anger over his immediate judgment of her and all of his hateful words filled her head and she couldn’t get the words out.

“You know, I didn’t grow up royalty.

I spent years in the Winter Court as a sla —”

“I don’t give a damn, Shade, where you grew up or what you did with your days before you became the lying, callous witch you are now.” Aislinn said it so fast that he couldn’t have known it was said aloud until it was too late.

Given felt the breath on the back of her neck as Aislinn faintly groaned. She closed her eyes, swallowing the acid in his words before she responded, “I won’t apologize for lying to you.”

Aislinn didn’t say anything at first, giving her plenty of time to lament her choice to unbind his speech. When he did speak again, it was full of bitterness. “I didn’t ask you for anything, not your help or your friendship and least of all an apology. I wouldn’t care even if you were sorry for it.”

Her eyes welled with tears and though she hated herself for it, she’d never been very talented at hiding her emotions, not even as a child. Especially not as a child, which had earned her more than her fair share of whippings from the taskmaster at the workhouse where she’d spent most of her early childhood. She could still remember the look on Ian’s face, a young guard then with only aspirations to become a Griffin, when Oberon had brought her back to Agincourt.

She’d never known compassion before.

What she had known intimately were the wounds that Aislinn now bore. She understood fully the hesitance to trust others and the sting that lasted long after the betrayal had ended. But she wasn’t willing to let him tear her apart. She’d suffered far more hurtful words than his.

She wiped her face with her sleeve and focused on driving her mount faster down the hill and through the glen until finally they reached the gates at Agincourt.

She remained quiet through their dismount

and

though

they

were

immediately met with a host of guards and attendants, Given waived them all away and walked, with Aislinn silently in her wake, to the stables.

“This is stupid. You don’t need to be rubbing down a horse if your back is hurting.”

Given had willed Aislinn to lean against the outer wall of the stable, so she could barely see him from where she stood. She didn’t feel like his comment required a response and frankly couldn’t think of one anyway.

“You know, I don’t understand you,”

Aislinn said. “Did you take on her pain to garner our sympathies? Interesting tactic, though I bet you’re regretting it now.”

She ignored him as she finished preparing her horse for the night.

“Saralia’s daughter, posing as a whore in the city of Man,” he laughed.

“Had I known who you were I might have made you pretend a little harder. All for the sake of Avalar, of course.” He grinned before continuing to prattle on, though Given tuned out what he was saying. She was too interested in what she was seeing.

Given turned the corner and caught the faint shimmer of a fading spell. He’d probably regained his free will half an hour ago, when her spell had weakened, but was too busy running his mouth to notice. These were his last moments as a man. So, brazenly and completely out of character, she paused for only a second, until that final moment. Then she deftly

pressed herself against Aislinn, rising on her toes to meet his mouth, and kissed him.

His mouth felt warm and soft, and astonishingly receptive. She figured he would blame this on her enchantment.

She pulled away just as the spell faded completely, leaving Aislinn on all fours, struggling to catch his breath and gain his bearings. She leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Just so we’re clear.