All That Bleeds (27 page)

To avoid distracting him, she left the room and descended for lunch. Merrick, efficient as ever, appeared twenty minutes later, dressed and ready, duffel in hand. She offered him tomato juice and food, but he shook his head.

“You need to eat something,” she said gently.

“Unless you’re on the menu, not interested.”

Outside, he wore his dark sunglasses and sat in the passenger seat with it tilted slightly back. She drove them up the mountain, the sun and slopes breathtaking around every curve. She was looking forward to showing him the retreat center and to taking him on an excursion to her favorite place near it, a cave with glacial blue ice that she’d discovered and loved.

After a couple hours of uninterrupted silence, he straightened in his seat and retrieved something from his pocket. “Recognize this?”

“I’m driving in the outside lane of a mountain road where there’s currently no shoulder, and, unlike you, I don’t have superhuman reflexes.”

“Here,” he said, dropping the small object into her hand and taking the wheel. “I’ll steer. You look.”

She glanced in the rearview mirror. She hadn’t seen anyone behind them the entire trip. The road was used solely as a route to the retreat center, and most of the guests were probably either already there or not coming until after five.

She stopped the car and put it into park. She lifted the small carved stone and froze.

“This is Phaedra’s mark.”

“Who’s Phaedra?” he asked.

“A muse. An infamous one.” Alissa brought the stone to her nose and thought she detected the smell of flowers and freshly cut grass. “Where did you get this?”

“Why is she infamous?”

“She had an aspirant who turned out to be a witch. This was a couple thousand years ago, so the accounts are speculative. Either Phaedra knew the girl was a witch and worked with her anyway, or the girl concealed that fact until she had what she wanted. They may have been lovers—or not. No one knows for certain. What is known is that the girl used
Phaedra’s inspiration to create a spell that raised a demon. Being demonic, it killed villages full of people, including the witch. Phaedra, distraught, couldn’t find a way to stop or bind it, so she walked off a cliff. The other muses she’d summoned to help found her broken body on the rocks.”

“What happened to the demon?”

“Eventually it disappeared. No one knows.”

“Lysander, maybe.”

“Maybe. Anyway, all young muses learn about Phaedra’s mistakes. Even if she wasn’t aware at first that the girl was a witch, Phaedra should’ve recognized the danger of what the girl explored with the inspiration she was given. It’s a cautionary tale for all muses. We aren’t meant to be led. We must do the leading where our magic is concerned.” She lifted the stone and inhaled. “It smells like something. Flowers and licorice and something cloying?”

“Demon ash sometimes smells like rotten licorice.”

She turned it over in her palm and stilled at the sight of the tiny
H
etched on the bottom. The looping strands formed her mother’s first initial exactly the way her mom had always written it. “Merrick, where did you find this?”

“I picked it up yesterday.”

“Why didn’t you show it to me yesterday?”

“You were late for the party.”

It was the truth, but not all of it. His face gave away nothing, but intuition told her he held something back. If he’d been human, she would’ve known exactly what questions to ask, but with Merrick, it was like feeling her way down a dark hallway.

“Don’t make me angry with you.”

He quirked a brow.

“Unless I agree to it, don’t conceal things that I have a right to know.”

“Once I ask you whether you want to know something, you’ll know it. No turning back.”

“I want you to tell me about this. Everything about it. Where and how and when
exactly
did you find it? Was it in my house?”

“No.”

“James.” She stared into his eyes. “Please tell me,” she said, infusing her voice with persuasive power.

He exhaled slowly. “You can’t push me with your magic, Alissa. I feel when you try.”

She rested the side of her head against her seat’s headrest. “If you succumb to the push, it’ll feel good,” she said softly.

He stared at her mouth for a moment. “You don’t need magic to get what you want from me.”

“How about a bribe then?” she asked and leaned forward, brushing her lips over his.

He leaned back and shook his head. “Not for this.” He licked his lips and swallowed. “I didn’t want to tell you because I got it from Dimitri’s safe.”

“You said you didn’t find anything.”

“I implied that I didn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because you didn’t want me to.”

She sat back in her seat, understanding how she’d brought this on herself. “You’re kind to me. You really are. I was wrong though to put you in a position where you had to protect me from the truth. If we’re going to figure out what’s going on, I need to know everything. No matter who’s involved.” She nodded to herself. “Promise me, no more secrets.”

He shrugged, and she sighed.

“I know you don’t want to hurt me, but whatever the truth is, in whatever form it comes, I can handle it.”

“I never doubted that,” he said. “But I came here to be your shield. Let me.”

She reached out, but stopped before her fingers touched his face. She drew her hand back. “Don’t get carried away by all this. It’ll make it too painful when it’s time for you to leave.”

“Why do you assume you have to choose between keeping your life here and having whatever you want, including me?”

“Because that’s reality,” she said. He waited, and she frowned in frustration. “We could never keep it a secret. They’d find out about a real affair, and when they realized, they’d make me leave the Etherlin. My powers would weaken, and I’d lose my dad. I’m barely anchoring him to the world as it is.”

“Maybe he’d be better away from the memories here.”

“So he and I should do what? Leave the Etherlin and live in the Varden?”

“Not the Varden.”

“But that’s where you live. You’re saying you’d leave the Varden?”

“Of course. I live there because you live here.”

It was like a splash of cold water, shocking and unexpected. Could he be telling the truth? Had he really worked so hard to be near her when all she’d ever done was send him letters? Merrick didn’t seem that romantic, but he certainly didn’t seem like the kind of man to exaggerate his feelings either. In fact, he seemed like the kind to deny them altogether.

His confession should’ve worried her, but instead she felt strangely pleased. “Wow,” she said. “You’re a force with which to be reckoned on so many levels. You really shouldn’t…”

“What?”

“Tempt me.”

“I think that ship has already sailed.” Everything from his wry amusement to the intensity of his gaze made her want to lean close, to kiss and touch and taste him until she’d had her fill, which might be never.

“Listen…” Her voice trailed off, and she cleared her throat. “I need to become Wreath Muse to save my father’s life.”

“I didn’t know the Wreath had healing powers.”

“In my dad’s case, it does. When my mom died, the loss of that muse magic created a downward spiral that was dizzying. His wasn’t normal grief. One day he was an even-keeled, if occasionally eccentric author; the next he was overcome with hallucinations and despair. The Wreath enhanced her magic, making it more potent, so its loss devastated his mind. Whenever I’ve worn the Wreath, he improves. That’s why I need it. With steady exposure to magic fortified by the Wreath, he’ll recover. And it’s not only about him. Becoming Wreath Muse has been my life’s pursuit. It’s my connection to all the generations of North women, to that legacy. They wore the Wreath. It’s what I’m meant to do.”

“Are you happy?”

She swallowed hard. “Being a muse makes me happy. Yes.”

“That’s not what I mean. I’m not suggesting you stop inspiring your aspirants. I’m asking you if you’re happy the rest of the time, living here with the scrutiny and speculation, under a mountain of rules.”

Her breath shortened and her ears rang. Could she really even contemplate such a thing? Leaving the Etherlin? The possibility of a new life struck a frighteningly deep chord. Her mind reeled. “I barely know you.”

“Leaving here isn’t only about me. It’s about you being able to breathe. A part of you wants me because of what I represent.” He paused. “Freedom.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“I’m sure I seemed unhappy last night, but it’s been an intense few months. Everything will get better when the competition ends, which it will tomorrow. Last night was an anomaly—”

“It’s not about last night or the past few months. I’ve been reading your letters for five years. The truth about your life is there, between the lines. What makes you happier? Living here? Or being with me?”

She held out a hand to stop him and shook her head. “It certainly didn’t make me happy to see Tobin’s face, if you recall. This infatuation that we have for each other will pass. Basing decisions on how I feel right now would be shortsighted. My father, the Wreath, the Etherlin, they’re my life.”

“Your life so far,” he said.

She shoved the door open and lurched out of the car, walking blindly away. She came to rest with her knees against the guardrail, staring out at the horizon. Was this how Phaedra had felt? So impossibly drawn by her attraction to someone that she’d wanted to throw caution to the wind?

Alissa set her hands on her head and felt the truth of her own soul unfold before her. A part of her had been suffocating for years, but admitting it just meant that she couldn’t feign ignorance anymore. Denying how she felt had been her only refuge.

She heard the car door open and knew he was nearby.

I can meet someone else, someone who isn’t ventala or a killer. I’ll feel what I feel for Merrick with someone else. I just haven’t met him yet.
Not that she wanted anyone else. She wanted Merrick as much as her next breath sometimes.

“I have to use the Wreath to help my dad. I won’t give up on him. I’d never be able to live with myself if I didn’t see this through.”

“That raises another question. I assume you’ll be crowned, but what if you’re not?”

She shrugged helplessly. “I’ll make an appeal to whoever is the Wreath Muse. Once crowned, use of the Wreath will be at her discretion.” She shook her head. “I wish I had a better relationship with the others, but the competition makes it hard.”

“Where is the Wreath kept?”

She looked over her shoulder at him. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

“It would take some of the guesswork out of things. If you get what you deserve, great. If you don’t, that doesn’t have to be the end of it.”

“They would hunt you to the ends of the earth.”

“I’m aware.”

She tilted her head. Was he joking?

“Of course, in that scenario, they’d be hunting us both,” he continued. “On your own with the Wreath, you’d need a bodyguard.”

“You think you’re ready to make this job full-time and permanent now? That’s very impulsive.”

He shrugged with a shake of his head.

“It is! Of course, it is. You barely know me. You have no idea what I’m actually like. I could be a nightmare.”

“I’ll risk it.”

They were silent for a moment.

“You don’t know that it wouldn’t be a terrible mistake.”

“Sure, I do. I’ve known for five years. You gave yourself to me in those letters, and it made me want one thing.”

She widened her eyes in question.

“More.” There was no pleading or imploring in his tone. He wasn’t trying to manipulate her into anything. It was the truth, delivered raw.

Emotionally fearless,
she thought.
What is it like to live that way? And what would I risk to find out?

There was a part of her—a large part—that desperately wanted more of him, too.

“Would you like another of my secrets?” she whispered.

“Always.”

“Sometimes madness is contagious.” She glanced at the deserted road. “You make me want to risk things, too.” Turning, she rested her hands on his shoulders and slanted her mouth to his, warm lips against cooler ones. His arms closed around her, holding her against him.

She moved her lips along his jaw until her mouth was very near his ear. “There’s only so much I’ll ever be able to give you.” His grip around her tightened. “We could have a real affair, but it would always be a secret. You’ll never have all of me, no matter what you do. Can you live like that?”

“I already am,” he said.

She exhaled, relaxing into his embrace. “All right, then, we’ll have an affair and find out whether we were lucky to have that wall or not.”

He answered her with a kiss, and she suspected if they hadn’t already left the house for the retreat center, they might never have arrived.

During the last hour of their drive, Alissa grilled Merrick with questions. His responses were often laconic, but they opened the door on his enigmatic life. She learned about places he’d lived, books he’d enjoyed, and art he’d collected. She smiled at his casual confession that he and the Crimson bartender hosted a monthly dinner for the staff that was followed by games of poker and Halo, and that things sometimes deteriorated into challenges shouted loud enough to rattle the furniture. These arguments then led to rounds of sparring in the boxing ring that was part of the fitness center.

She shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Does every conflict in the Varden have to be settled with violence?”

“No,” he said amiably. “Have you got a suggestion? A
needlepoint competition, maybe? The club can always use new pillows.”

She laughed, picturing folksy additions to the Crimson’s edgy décor. “That sounds like a good idea. Some cozy assassin expressions embroidered on them. ‘A bullet in time saves nine.’ Something like that work for you?”

He smirked.

She followed the narrowing road to the small gravel-covered parking area. There were several other cars and vans already parked. Her mood sobered.

“It’s not much farther from here.” She glanced around as she got out, her boots sinking into the powdery snow. The air was piercingly clean, but thin. “How do you feel? With your relative anemia, do you find it hard to breathe at these altitudes?”