Blood and Salt (16 page)

TORN

DANE WAS STANDING
before the corn.

Without looking at me, he held out his hand behind him.

I laced my fingers through his; that euphoric warmth spreading across my skin.

“Don't let go,” he whispered.

He stepped forward and the stalks parted as if he'd brought the summer breeze.

I braced myself for the electric current to hurl me back into oblivion, but he pulled me right along with him.

The hazy glow from the torches lining the inner perimeter did little to combat the darkness of the field. Our footsteps were muffled, and the corn around us seemed to lack dimension. It felt as though we'd stepped into another world.

I tightened my grip around his fingers. Even here, surrounded by unknown danger at every turn, I couldn't stop thinking about his skin against mine.

Gradually, the row widened, so we could walk side by side. He brushed his other hand along the stalks.

“What do you feel?” I asked.

The muscles in his shoulders tensed, like my question caught him off guard.

“When you touch the corn.”

“I guess it's an energy. If you listen closely it almost sounds like it's breathing.”

He was right. The air moved through the stalks like rhythmic breath—in and out—out and in.

“It must be hard keeping a secret like this.”

“We all keep secrets.” His eyes settled on me, and my blood seemed to shimmer in my veins.

A long silence stretched between us, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Something about being here with him, in this moment, felt serene, like nothing could touch us.

“I've been thinking about something you said last night . . .”

I waited for him to ask what it was, but he remained focused on the path in front of us.

“You asked why I wanted to go in the corn.” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “At first, I thought it was just to find a way to stop the ritual—but what if this is what my mom and dad want? Maybe there's a way for Katia and Alonso and Nina and Thomas to all be together—to coexist.”

Dane looked at me with a soft, puzzled expression. “How much did you drink?”

“I know it sounds crazy.” I shook my head and laughed.

Dane was probably only adjusting his grip, but it felt as if he were caressing his thumb against my palm. “Would you want to live forever, Ashlyn?”

“God, no,” I blurted. “I've had a hard enough time dealing with the life I've got.”

Dane let out an unexpected laugh. Just like he had when we'd first met at the junkyard.

“But maybe with the right person?” I shrugged. “I don't know. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. Maybe it's the rye . . . or this place,” I said, staring up at the stars. “Quivira really is a utopia.”

The muscles in Dane's hand tensed. “It's not as perfect as you think.”

I thought about what I saw at the Mendoza lodge today and my buzz quickly faded. “Why didn't you tell me your mom's a conduit?”

“Teresa didn't raise me. The Mendozas did. Spencer built her a cottage on the outskirts of the eastern woods. I'm not even sure she knows I'm her son. Spencer said she used to walk the corn, like me, before she—well, before the conduit side of her took over.”

Before she went crazy, he meant.

As the lights from the outside world came into view, the odor of our surroundings did too—sweet, pungent, and on the verge of being sickening. It smelled like stale soda syrup mixed with ammonia. The ground became softer and squishier with every step.

“Are we close to the sacred circle?” I asked. It seemed like we'd been walking for miles.

“Almost.” He nearly swallowed the word.

“What's inside the chasm?”

“I wouldn't know.” He strained his head to see what was ahead.

“You've never looked inside?”

“I'm not allowed inside the sacred circle.”

I smiled. “You don't exactly strike me as a rule follower.”

“My blood won't allow me to enter the circle. Don't forget, I have Coronado's blood inside me.”

It killed me the way he said it, eyes downcast like he was ashamed.

I stopped walking, pulling him to a halt. But still, he wouldn't meet my eyes. Closing the gap between us, I laced my other hand through his. “I told you. I don't care about that. We are not our ancestors.”

He looked up at me, eyes blazing. I felt his warm breath pulsing against my cheek, sending sparks of raw electricity across my skin.

The sound of voices in the distance pulled me from the moment. “Do you hear that?”

Without a word, Dane turned and started pulling me back toward Quivira.

Beyond the voices was a strange chittering sound.

“Wait.” I tugged against him. “I thought the circle was this way.”

“I made a mistake,” he murmured.

“I don't understand.” I looked back over my shoulder, straining to bring the voices into focus, when I tripped. But Dane never let go of my hand.

When I looked down the row of corn to see what I'd tripped over, I found the source of the hissing noise—a mysterious mound that glistened like encrusted jewels in the moonlight. Dane pulled me to my feet. As I leaned forward, trying to figure out what made it shine that way, the mound shifted. I realized it was made of locusts, thousands of them. They scattered, revealing Tanner Beaumont's head beneath. The guy from the junkyard. Bloodshot eyes, mouth agape, a locust slipping from his mouth into his nostril.

I clamped my hand over my mouth to stop myself from screaming as men's voices filled the atmosphere, the distinct cadence of Spanish. We must be close to the perimeter. The Arcanum—they must've killed poor Tanner. The wind moved through the field and I swore I caught the hint of my mother's scent. “Mom?” I called out.

Dane started to cover my mouth, when a deep hum followed by a brilliant force of light pulsed through the field, blinding me momentarily.

“Bring her to me and all of this will end.” A man's voice with a thick Castilian Spanish accent pierced through the stalks.

For a moment I thought Katia had returned with my mother, that the Arcanum had them surrounded.

But when Dane pulled a knife from his belt, holding it out in front of him, I knew the man was talking about
me.

As my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw him silhouetted on the outer perimeter of the corn. I pushed forward for a better look, but Dane's arm was hooked firmly around my waist, holding me back. “Don't listen to him. Coronado will kill you.”

“Please,” I whispered. “I have to see his face.” I was scared, but I needed to see the man who'd been terrorizing my family.

Dane was still holding me fast, but he let me inch forward. The locust carpet sizzled loudly as it moved beneath our feet. We held our ground about five feet from the edge of the corn.

I couldn't believe my eyes. It was the man from the memories, but even more handsome, with a rugged stubble covering his fine features. This was the man who'd slit that Larkin girl's throat right in front of Katia, but there was no cruelty in his face now, only sorrow.

“Marie,” he whispered, his dark brown eyes welling up with tears. He was reaching his hand through the corn as if to touch my face, when his flesh disintegrated from his fingers, dripping down to the ground like melted wax, exposing the bones of his hand. He jerked it back, cradling his decimated hand against his chest.

The end of the black silk ribbon slithered over my shoulder as if it were trying to reach him. Part of me was drawn to him, and another part repulsed.

“I shouldn't have brought you here,” Dane said with a desperate edge to his voice as he pulled me back.

“Dane,” Coronado's voice boomed. “You are of my blood. Give her to me, or there will be a price.”

“She doesn't belong to you. No one has to die.” Dane tightened his grip, turning all his attention back to me. “Ashlyn, what did you say to me the night of the wreathing ceremony . . . when you spoke Caddo?”

I couldn't understand why he was asking me this. Why now? As my gaze gravitated back to Coronado, Dane held my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes.

“He needs to hear this, too. What did you say to me?”

“I . . . I don't know. It just came out.”

“I'm warning you,” Coronado seethed.

“Please,” Dane said in the softest tone, his lips hovering just a few inches away from mine. “Tell me.”

I felt so vulnerable, so out of control, especially with Coronado so close to me, but I wanted to tell Dane what I'd said at the wreathing ceremony. I wanted so badly for it to mean something.

“It was something my mother said to me before she disappeared,” I whispered, taking in his breath as if it were my own. “When you fall in love, you will carve out your heart and throw it into the deepest ocean. You will be all in—blood and salt.”

“Do you believe in a love like that?” His words brushed against my lips.

“Yes,” I gasped.

“So do I.” A surprised smile seemed to pass over his face. “And that's why I'm letting go.”

Dane dropped his hands and took a deliberate step away from me.

Instantly, the energy shifted. A low growl echoed through the corn. The growl quickly turned into a screaming wail; and I knew something was coming for me.

RUN

A POWERFUL ENERGY
reached through the stalks, grabbing hold of my heart. The tremendous force sent me hurtling back through the corn toward Quivira, the leaves whipping against my skin. I tried to fight it, find my way back to Dane, when something even more powerful rose up in my bloodstream, sinking into my limbs, adding extra weight to every movement.

As the conduit feelings took over, the pulling sensation subsided, until I was standing on my own two feet again—deep within the corn—the sacred circle in my sight. But as soon as I stepped toward it, I felt the past needling its way inside of me, taking over. Muscles clenched, back arched, I tried to hang on to the present, but it felt as though someone were peeling my fingers back from a narrow ledge.

• • •

“Run,” I whisper.

The boy staggers from the sacred circle into the field, his hands clasped tight over his ears, his cheeks damp with tears.

As he runs, the corn shifts in front of him, opening like a maze. The dark force is toying with him. It waits until he's almost reached the edge of the outer perimeter before seizing him and sending him back into the depths of the field. The boy tries to get up, but something's wrong. The flesh has been stripped from his right leg, exposing bone and torn muscle.

He lets out a gut-wrenching cry as he grabs the stalks and begins to drag himself through the field. The dark energy rolls through the corn again, and he goes flying. He lands with a gaping gash in his side, as though the corn has taken a bite out of him. The dark energy gathers strength until it forms into a single unstoppable wave. The wave rips through him, leaving nothing behind but blood and bits of tissue splattered across the dark green leaves.

• • •

“Ashlyn,” someone yelled, pulling me back from my nightmare.

I came to, slung over Dane's shoulder as he ran through the corn, the churning field gnashing at his heels.

Dane shoved me through the barrier, back into Quivira, then came diving after me. He landed with a dense blow, clutching his shoulder. I could taste his blood in the air, metallic and sharp on my tongue.

“Are you okay?” I crawled toward him, a dark red stain spreading over his linen shirt.

“It's nothing,” he said. “Are
you
okay?”

“Why did you let me go?” I asked, unable to hold back the tears.

“I needed to get you away from there . . . from
him.
” He reached out to touch me, but I pulled away. “I thought the corn would move you back faster than I could. I didn't think you'd fall into another vision, I'm sorr—”

“The corn,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. “I saw a boy come out of the sacred circle. Dark blond hair, chiseled features. He looked so familiar, but I couldn't place him. Katia told him to run. She was trying to help him, but the corn . . .” A sobbing choking sound escaped my lips.

“Slow down,” Dane said softly.

“He must've been a Mendoza boy . . . one of the unchosen,” I said as I stared over the crops. “All those Larkin girls and Mendoza boys who walked the corn. They never made it to the outside world. And all those cars at the junkyard . . . all those people who came looking for Quivira . . . they're dead.” I took in a shuddering breath. “The corn is a monster . . . and it's eating them.”

“I know.” He took my trembling hands in his. “Everyone knows. Sometimes you can hear them screaming.”

STITCH

I GOT THE FIRST-AID KIT
from the bag in my room and flew up the stairs three at a time. I was afraid Dane might disappear.

It was strange, but I wasn't as surprised as I should've been about what was happening in the corn. When Katia turned to the Dark Spirit, she was enraged, fueled by loss and heartache. I felt for her. In her darkest moment, Katia did whatever she felt she had to do to protect her people, her way of life, but in doing so, she created a monster she could no longer control.

When I saw Dane standing by the window, right where I'd left him, I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“I'm sorry about tonight.” He stared straight ahead over the dark water.

“You were trying to protect me,” I said as I inspected the cut on his shoulder.

“You don't understand. I almost led you right
to
him.”

“But you didn't,” I said. “Next time, you won't let go.”

His jaw muscles tensed. “There can't be a next time.”

“Dane, please, I just ha—”

“It's too dangerous.” He cut me off.

He shifted his weight, and suddenly, I understood. A wave of guilt washed over me. It was wrong of me to ask him to do this in the first place. If we were caught together . . . God, I couldn't even go there.

I set my kit on the coffee table and lit another lantern, hanging it on the iron stand. “Why did you want me to tell you what I said in Caddo at the wreathing ceremony? Why did you want Coronado to hear it?”

Dane took an unexpected step toward me. “I wanted to show him that you're not Marie . . . or a pawn in his sick game. I may have his blood, but I have Mendoza blood, too. I wanted him to see us as human beings. Love can be a powerful thing.” His eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made me lose my train of thought. I couldn't stop thinking about his mouth so close to mine, the way he held me in the corn.

I cleared my throat as I maneuvered one of the chairs in front of the table. “Have you ever been in the Larkin lodge before?”

“Why would you ask me that?” His body went rigid, his brows knitting into a hard line.

“Brennon said you had a lot of intention offers.” I motioned for him to take a seat on the chair.

“Oh.” He let out a gust of pent-up air.
“That.”
A coy smile played across his lips as he began to unbutton his shirt. “Well,
if you're trying to ask me if I've ever taken anyone else into the corn and then gone over to their house to play doctor, the answer would be no.” He shrugged out of his shirt.

I had no idea what my face was doing, but inside it was complete hormonal anarchy.

He sat down in the chair. I adjusted the lantern so it would shine directly on his left shoulder, then sank to the edge of the coffee table, carefully nestling my knees between his. I tried to concentrate on the contents of my kit—vials of various medicines, sutures, dressing, and a sparkling scalpel—but I couldn't keep my eyes off him for more than a few seconds at a time.

“You're lucky,” I said as I doused a gauze pad in antiseptic. “You'll need a few stitches, but it looks like a clean cut.”

He followed my eyes and laughed. “Lucky? I'm an idiot. I think I fell on my own knife and then lost it in the corn. That's what I get for trying to impress you.”

“Is that what happened?” I tried to play it off, but it felt like there were sparklers going off in my chest.

“You can't make a wreath but you know how to use all this?”

“My mother wanted us to be able to take care of ourselves. And Rhys—” I chuckled. “Not so good with blood. We joked that she was preparing us for some kind of apocalypse, but maybe it was just Quivira.”

He studied me as I cleaned the cut. “What was it like for you . . . growing up?”

“We always thought our mom was a little crazy, the way she talked about this place, but we loved her so much, it didn't matter.”

“What about friends . . . hobbies?”

“I played sports, Rhys played chess,” I said, tearing off another piece of gauze from the kit. “It sounds weird, but it always felt like I was waiting for something—waiting for my life to begin.”

I wasn't sure if his legs were narrowing in on mine or if mine were spreading farther apart, but when our legs touched, a shivering ripple rushed beneath my skin.

I tried to focus on preparing the sutures. “Aren't you the slightest bit nervous that a seventeen-year-old girl is going to stitch you up?”

“I think I'm in good hands.” He stroked his thumb against the side of my knee. “Tell me. What does it feel like when you disappear into your visions—the conduit memories?”

“Like standing on the edge of a precipice . . . sort of like the feeling I get when you touch me.”

The corner of his mouth curled into a smile.

I looked down, a deep blush creeping over my cheeks. I couldn't believe I just said that.
Pull yourself together, Ash.

I started to prepare an injection of a local anesthetic, but he shook his head.

“I don't need that.”

“It's just lidocaine.” I held up the bottle, but he didn't even glance at it.

“Okay,” I said as I set it aside, pretending not to notice his touch. “It's going to hurt like hell.”

After taking a deep breath, I inserted the suture needle into the edge of his torn flesh, pulling it all the way through to the knot at the end.

He hardly flinched.

“You said you've been seeing memories of Katia and Marie. Can you tell me about them?”

It still felt strange talking about this, but there was something about Dane that made me want to open up. “I saw Coronado's face when he found out what Katia's blood could do. I saw Coronado talking Marie into telling him where to find Katia and Alonso on the summer solstice. But the memory that sticks with me the most . . . the one that haunts me . . . is when I saw my mother and father in the sacred circle. Katia cut into my mother's palm and said, ‘
A vessel at last.
'”

He flinched.

“Sorry.” I held the wound shut with a lighter touch and kept stitching.

He looked down at my legs. “What about your knee at the field?”

So he did notice. “At first I thought it was because my mother pricked her finger when she was giving me the last protection mark, but I think the same thing might be happening to my brother. The cut on his lip at the shinny game—it closed up almost immediately.”

“That makes sense.” His shoulders relaxed again. “When Nina walked the corn, she was pregnant with you and your brother. You have some of Katia's blood in you, too. My guess is when Katia came to get your mother in New York City, it ignited something in you as well. You're twins. The smallest trace of an immortal's blood can be very potent.”

“You'd think all of this would bring Rhys and me closer together, but I've never felt more distant from him.” I sighed as I tied off the last stitch. “He's always had a bad feeling about Quivira. I'm the one who wanted to come. Even now, with everything that's gone down, something about being here feels right.”

“Does he have any idea what's happening to him? What's happening at Quivira?”

I shook my head. “Just being here freaks him out enough. If he knew what was really going on with the corn . . . or with me . . . he'd . . . I don't even know what he'd do, but it wouldn't be pretty. Rhys agreed to stay until tomorrow—he doesn't know we can't leave.”

“What are you going to tell him?”

“The truth, I guess. I don't think I have any other choice.”

“You're a good sister,” he said as I put a butterfly bandage over the sutures. “The separation you're feeling . . . sometimes people distance themselves from things they know they'll have to say good-bye to one day.”

“I don't understand.”

“You're a conduit, Ashlyn. Deep down, Rhys must know what that means for you. It would be difficult watching the person you love . . . disappear.”

It took me aback. Even Dane knew I was doomed. He knew it better than anyone.

I pretended to reorganize my supplies. “Why don't you leave Quivira?” I asked, desperate to change the subject. “You're the one person who can walk the corn. You could start a new life . . . leave all this.”

“And go where?” He tilted his head, like he was amused.

“Anywhere. I've got money. You can have it.”

His smile faded as he eased his hands over my knees. “Maybe we could go together. We can bring Rhys and Beth, too.”

I felt my heart pick up speed at the thought . . . at his touch. “What about Coronado? Won't he be waiting for us?”

“Not if we time it right. At dawn on the summer solstice, he'll be watching the eastern perimeter, because it's the closest entry point to the sacred circle. We could leave from the old stables on the western edge, slip through their fingers.”

For a moment, I got caught up in the idea, Dane and I escaping from all of this, starting life anew; then a crippling thought washed over me.

“I can't leave my mom here.”

“Then I'll stay,” he said with such sincerity, it made me ache. “Besides . . .” He leaned forward, his hands slowly moving up my thighs. “I always felt like I was waiting for something, too.”
He slipped his hands beneath the hem of my shorts, pulling me toward him. “Maybe that something was you,” he whispered, his lips hovering mere centimeters from mine . . .

“Ash!” The front door slammed open. My brother's voice cut through the atmosphere like a hatchet.

Dane pulled away.

“We've been looking everywhere for you.” Beth grinned, her warm brown eyes twinkling in the lamplight, completely clueless as to what she just walked in on.

“As you can see, I'm fine.” I closed the medical kit with a little too much force. I couldn't believe this was happening to me right now.

“What's
he
doing here?” Rhys asked without looking at Dane. “I told you to stay close. You're supposed to be at the bonfire.”

Dane stood. “I was just leaving.”

Rhys looked down at the blood-soaked gauze. “What happened?”

“I fell. It's nothing.” Dane pulled his shirt back on.

“Funny.” Rhys squared his shoulders. “You don't strike me as the clumsy type.”

Dane smiled at me. “Thanks for a memorable evening.”

He stepped outside and my brother slammed the door behind him.

“That's it.” Rhys glared at me through his disheveled bangs. “We're leaving.”