Alistair’s Bed (13 page)

From behind her she heard a booming voice snarl something in a language she didn’t understand, and then she was falling, crashing to the floor as the room spun around her and everything went black.

When she came back to her senses Keri didn’t know exactly what was happening, but she knew enough to get out of the way. She crawled towards the nearest corner as her living room seemed to fill with people, all of them angry and growling. She heard raised voices and a whimper of pain, then the crunch of wood giving way.
There goes the coffee table,
part of her noted with an inward sigh of resignation. She kept crawling until she found herself huddled against the wall, her knees drawn up to her chest as she desperately scanned the room, looking for Alistair.

She spotted him at last, his anger a nearly tangible thing as he stood in the center of a circle of daemons of all descriptions. Beside him was another daemon whose similar appearance and aura of power marked him as Alistair’s sire. Between them stood Cora, her arms pinned to her sides by Alistair’s firm grip. Cora’s eyes were wide with fear as she stared around her, her entire demeanor cloaked in misery and defeat.

Keri felt a gentle touch to her shoulder and startled, flinching away from the contact out of instinct.

“It’s alright child, I will not harm you.” A voice as soft as summer rain soothed her and she turned to find the source, coming face to face with the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Her hair was as pale as moonlight, and her eyes were a familiar shade of golden brown. “You are the one who freed my son, yes?”

Keri nodded, unsure what to even say when faced with an angel.

“I’m Molla, mother to Alistair and mate to Anoch.” She nodded to the two standing together in the circle. “You were hurt trying to protect him from her?”

“I wouldn’t tell her where he was.” Keri whispered, wincing at the discomfort even that soft sound caused. “He should have stayed away, she’s too dangerous.”

Molla made a small sound of comfort and carefully draped a shawl of pale silk over Keri’s shoulders and the shredded remains of her clothes. “For Alistair alone, it would be too dangerous. But my son is not alone, he has family who love him and have tried to find him for a long time. We would still be looking if it weren’t for you.” She leaned in and pressed a motherly kiss to Keri’s cheek, the warmth of it spreading throughout her body. As the warmth faded, the pain did too.

Keri’s hands flew to the wounds on her chest, amazed to find them healed over. “Thank you!”

“You were hurt protecting my son, the least I could do was heal you of that pain. Now watch, and you will see you need never fear the sorceress again.”

Keri’s attention returned Cora, and she realized that Anoch was speaking.

“...and in that you have been found guilty of imprisoning a Prince of the House of Anoch, practicing enchantments against the citizens of the plane of Daemos, and generally being a an utter bitch; I hereby strip you of all your stolen years and banish your soul to the void between the planes to drift for eternity.”

Alistair grinned as he stepped into Cora’s line of vision. “The first hundred years are the worst, after that, it gets easier.”

Cora screamed and fell to her knees, a babble of words falling from her mouth as she begged for forgiveness, for mercy, for a chance to make amends. But then her voice cracked and her words became a keening wail. As the others watched she aged, so rapidly it seemed she was shrinking down on herself, within a matter of seconds her body crumbled away to dust, leaving only her jewels and clothing behind.

“And that’s the end of that.” Anoch announced and gripped his son by the shoulder. “She is gone, never to touch one of mine again!” The room filled with cheers of approval.

“The party begins in an hour, where we shall welcome my son home properly.” A louder cheer this time, and then the room went quickly silent as the crowd vanished one by one, returning to their own plane.

Soon there were only five of them left in the room, Alistair, Malyk, his parents and Keri. Anoch crossed the room and helped his mate to her feet before offering a massive hand to Keri.

“You have returned my son to me, for that you have my thanks.” He smiled down at Keri with an expression she had seen on Alistair’s face often enough the similarity hurt. She knew that smile, and she also knew Alistair would never look at her that way again.

“I should have done more.” She murmured as she stood up slowly, her free hand gripping the shawl to keep herself decently covered.

“Perhaps.” Anoch glanced over to where he son stood alone, his back to the rest of them. “That is not for me to judge though.”

Keri blinked as a blonde daemon stepped into her line of vision and smiled at her, his eyes the same pale golden brown as Molla’s. “I am Malyk. Thank you for bringing our brother back to us. What you have done will not be forgotten.”

Keri looked up at Malyk and smiled faintly, doing her best to ignore the lump in her throat and the ache in her heart. “I am glad he’s going home at last.”

Malyk frowned and glanced to his brother, than back to Keri. “I see.” Sadness gleamed in his eyes for a moment and then he stepped away. “I will take my leave. Be well Keri.”

Before she could answer Malyk he was gone, and Molla’s voice chimed softly from behind her.

“Hold still a moment.”

Keri felt the touch of metal at the back of her neck, and then a strange tingle passed through her body and a weight settled around her throat. When her fingers reached up she realized she was now wearing Cora’s gold torque.

“Consider that a thank you gift.” Molla stepped back to Keri’s side and adjusted the necklace so that the two ends sat just over her collar bone. “It cannot be removed by mortal hands, so I hope you like it.” Her voice fluted with laughter as she met Anoch’s surprised gaze. “I know mate, but there is a reason, you will have to trust me.”

Anoch just laughed and took Molla’s hand. “Very well, but later you are going to explain to me your reasons.” They both returned to Alistair and said a brief goodbye, and then they were gone, leaving the two of them alone.

The moment they left Alistair turned his back to her and stared out the window. “I’m glad my mother healed you. It was never my intention that you be hurt. I didn’t consider what she would do if she realized you had freed me. Whatever else there is between us Keri, I would never wish you harm.” His shoulders were tense and he held himself rigid as he stood with his hands fisted at his sides, his face still turned away from her.

“I didn’t think of it either, not until she point blank asked me where the medallion was and told me she knew you hadn’t been gone long.” Keri took a step towards him and stopped, wishing he’d turn around, wanting to see his face. “I’m glad you are free.” She finally whispered, fighting back tears.

“I want you to take her jewelry, not just the torque my parents gave to you, all of it. It will pay for any damages done to your home. And buy you a new bed.”

“A new bed?” She asked, confused again.

“Two of my kin were assigned to destroy it before leaving. You’ll need a new one. Try to find something without an enchantment on it this time.”

“Thanks, I’ll try.” Keri heard the faintest note of humor in his voice and took courage enough from that to cross the room, coming to stand at his side.

“I’ll miss you.” Her heart slammed and leapt in her throat as she whispered her confession.

He glanced down at her, his anger and guilt clearly visible as he took in the blood on her newly healed skin, the marks still pink where they showed beneath the sheer material of his mother’s shawl.

He looked away again, his jaw tightening. “I know you’ll miss me. You wanted to keep me a prisoner, clearly you enjoyed my company.”

Keri cringed at his words, knowing she deserved them. She saw the set of his jaw and knew he couldn’t forgive her, not after what she’d done. Her heart broke as she realized he was going to leave her, just like everyone else did. She mustered the last of her courage and lifted her gaze to his face. “I know you can’t forgive me, but I am sorry for what I did. You should go home to your family, they’re all waiting for you.” She turned away and started walking, willing herself not to cry until he was gone. She glanced back to look at him one last time, but the room was empty. “Good bye Alistair.” She whispered and then finally let herself cry.

***

CHAPTER 11

It had been three weeks since Alistair had left and she was constantly haunted by the memories of their brief time together. The deck, the bedroom, even the bathroom conjured up images of them together; laughing, loving and enjoying each other.
How could someone make such a hole in my heart after only a few days?
She asked herself that question over and over again, but she already knew the answer. She loved him. She loved him and she’d lost him, and if anyone tried to tell her that it was better than to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all she was going to hit them upside the head with a very heavy brick.

She’d stopped sleeping in her bedroom after the first night, the king sized mattress felt too large, and even with it sitting on the floor she couldn’t stop seeing the carved columns of Alistair’s bed rising up around her. She’d tried sleeping on the couch for another week, but now she was barely sleeping at all. Her nightmares had gotten worse, until every time she closed her eyes she was back on that beach, running. It was easier to push herself to the point of exhaustion, then collapse for a few hours until the dream woke her and she started the cycle again.

She’d reclaimed her grandmother’s workshop and made it her own; cleaning out the space, sharpening the tools and restoring the place to order. When that was done she’d started carving, not even sure what she was doing at first, just that she needed to keep busy. The first bedpost had been carved before she’d even known what she was going to make, but now she was on a mission. She was going to make her own bed to replace the one that had been destroyed, one that was untouched by magic or darkness or memories. She hoped that maybe when it was complete, she could sleep again. That maybe her heart would have started healing by then.

The carvings were like nothing she’d done before; the four posts would be tree trunks, rising up to a canopy of branches that interlaced overhead. The headboard was already roughed out, though it would take hundreds more hours to carve in the details of the meadow that would cover it when it was done. Every flower she could imagine, she would carve into the wood. The task consumed her; she ate only when she remembered to and slept when she was too tired to continue.

Samantha dropped by almost daily to check on her, bringing her out sandwiches and trying to cajole Keri out of her workshop and back into the world. She’d only asked once about Keri’s whirlwind courtship, and when she had burst into tears Samantha had hugged her close and not mentioned it again. Keri knew what few friends she had were all worried, but work was how she always dealt with grief, and until it stopped hurting she could see no reason to stop.

A reason finally appeared one day as she wandered out of the bathroom. Scrubbed and pink after taking a long overdue shower she’d spotted something through the half open door to the second bedroom; a room she hadn’t bothered to enter in weeks. There on the dresser, right where she’d left it, was the tapestry she had bought the day Alistair had appeared. She’d completely forgotten about it. She unrolled it carefully and admired it, her fingers brushing over the images formed in the wool, her artist’s eye already looking at the lines and wondering how to incorporate them into her carving.

As she touched one twisted arbutus tree she gasped and finally saw what her subconscious had known the moment she’d laid eyes on it back at the market. “It’s my dream!” She couldn’t believe it. “That’s the beach in my dreams!” There was no mistaking it now she had seen it, the trees, the rocks, even the curve of the shoreline exactly matched the one she’d been dreaming about for months.

She raced to her car, nothing in her mind but the need to go, to see it for herself. Her car protested every curve of the road with a squeal of tires as she drove far too fast for the twists and hills the road traversed, trying to recall the directions the weaver had given her about how to get to the beach. She wasn’t even sure why she needed to go, but there was no arguing with the feeling that drove her, she had see it for herself.

She reached the spot the woman had described and pulled over to the side of the road, throwing up a spray of gravel as she came to a stop and scrambled to get out of the car.
There!
She spotted the unmarked trailhead, little more than a slight gap in the trees and undergrowth and headed for it. The trail was rough, uneven and dark, the evergreen canopy blocking out most of the sunlight. She tripped over a tree root and yelped in pain, only then realizing that in her hurry she hadn’t even changed out of her summer sandals and into a pair of decent walking shoes.

When she reached the beach it took her a minute to get her bearings, but then she saw a familiar rock outcropping off to her left and she went towards it, kicking off her nearly useless shoes in favor of walking barefoot through the sand.

Now that she was here, she felt oddly at peace, the insistent voice that had that had pushed her to come here having faded away somewhere during her descent to the water.

Her summer dress fluttered against her calves as she wandered down the beach and the breeze lifted her hair and blew it around her face in a playful halo. Thoughts and feelings she had pushed aside came back to her, and for the first time in weeks she found herself thinking clearly about her life, about Alistair, about everything.

Like the images in the tapestry, she started to see her life from a different viewpoint, saw the pattern of fear that had repeated itself over and over. Every time things had grown difficult, she had retreated into her fear and let it rule her. Ever since her father had died it had been the same. Fear, withdrawal, and then when she had lost the thing she’d fear to lose it had confirmed yet again that nothing lasted, that everyone left. It was a self-fulfilling prophesy.