Bound (15 page)

“I understand,” Kira said under her
breath.

Lydia handed her bag to Octavion who slung it
over his back. Lydia grabbed her horse by its mane. She got about
halfway up, throwing her leg over his back, but then slid off.

“Let me help,” Octavion said.

“No! It’s just . . . the walk here took more
energy than I thought.” She looked at Kira.
Close your
eyes.

Kira knew what Lydia was going to do.
No
.

Please, Kira.

But Kira stood her ground. She’d had to deal
with enough of her own fears the past few days, especially learning
her friend was someone other than who she appeared to be. Perhaps
it was time for Lydia to face her own.

Lydia took a deep breath and looked at her
brother. He nodded, as if giving permission.

Kira didn’t know what she expected, but what
she saw was nothing short of pure beauty. Instead of an awkward and
chilling mutation, it seemed smooth and angelic. Lydia had
transformed into a royal princess—with an attitude from hell.

Yep, that’s Altaria
, Kira thought.

Altaria swung onto her horse with ease.
“Let’s ride,” she said. The horse reared, but she held tight. When
it came down hard, she buried her heels in its sides and took
off.

“Well, no wonder.” If that was the same horse
Kira had ridden and the kind of riding he was used to, he was
probably mad at Kira for not hanging on.

Octavion nudged his horse forward.
“
She
likes to ride.”

“I can see that—and she’s a bit cocky, too,”
Kira said.

“That, she is.”

By the time Octavion and Kira arrived at
Lydia’s car, the clouds had opened up and rain poured down in
sheets. Lydia sat in the driver’s seat, out of the weather. She
opened the window enough to stick out her hand and wave. “Get in.
You’re soaked.”

Octavion slid Kira off the horse and handed
her Lydia’s pack. When she turned to thank him, he was already
riding away.

“Hey!” Kira yelled.

He pulled the horse to a stop and nudged him
around.

“Thank you,” she said. “I had a good
time.”

He nodded. “As did I.” Then he turned and
rode down the path and out of site.

Most of the drive home was quiet. Kira went
over everything she’d seen that day, trying to make her mind grab
hold of it all. About halfway down the mountain, Kira looked over
at Lydia to find tears streaming down her face.

“What is it?” Kira asked.

Lydia wiped a tear from her cheek.
“Nothing.”

“Pull over. We need to talk.” When the car
didn’t slow, Kira grabbed Lydia’s arm. “Pull over, please.”

Lydia took her foot off the accelerator and
steered the car to the side of the road. Lydia shoved it into park
and shut off the engine. She lowered her eyes to her hands and
began fiddling with a loose thread on the hem of her shirt.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Lydia
finally said.

“What?” Kira asked.

“When I changed, it must have frightened
you.”

Kira turned in her seat so she faced Lydia.
“How can you say that? It was beautiful.”

Lydia shrugged. “You were so quiet. I thought
maybe it scared you, or it was horrible or something. I’ve never
really seen it myself, so—”

“Lydia, you have nothing to worry about. It
was like watching a flower bloom. It was magical.”

Lydia smiled. “Really?”

“Yes.”

The relief on Lydia’s face was short lived
and soon her smile faded. “Then what’s bothering you?”

Kira twisted back around, facing forward
again. “I just have a lot to take in, that’s all.”

Lydia nodded. “He takes a little getting used
to.”

Kira shot her a look. “How . . . did he say
something to you?”

“He didn’t have to. I’m his sister. I knew
something was wrong. Care to enlighten me?”

“I broke my arm.”

“What?” Lydia’s eyes widened with surprise.
“How did
that
happen?”

“I got bucked off, that’s how.” Kira rubbed
her arm. It didn’t hurt anymore, but it felt stiff, and a warm
sensation still came and went. “When your stupid horse turned on
me, Octavion jumped from his and almost took mine to the ground. He
was really mad.” She wasn’t sure how else to explain what had
happened. She didn’t want to hurt Lydia’s feelings or call him an
animal after her reaction to Lydia’s transformation.

Lydia closed her eyes and sat for a moment,
saying nothing. When she opened them, she looked more serious.
“Does he know? That you saw him, I mean?”

Kira nodded.

Lydia stared out the windshield. “How did you
react?”

“Like a scared little kid. And he didn’t
explain anything, just denied my seeing him . . . like that.” Kira
turned to face Lydia. “Why do his eyes change?”

Lydia sighed. “I’m not sure it’s my place to
say. He’d be mad.”

“Well,
he’s
not going to tell me. You
can be sure of that.”

“Honestly, I don’t think he intended for you
to know as much as you do,” Lydia said.

“It was
his
idea to give me the
Crystor. How did he expect me to be there for you, and
not
see everything I’ve seen?”

Lydia didn’t say anything, just sat
quietly.

“Lydia?”

She finally turned to face Kira. “I don’t
think he expected you to live through that night.” It was almost a
whisper.

“Oh.” Kira felt as though someone had sucked
all the air out of her lungs. A dull ache settled around her heart.
“I see.”

“Kira, I’m sorry.”

“No. I understand now. Why he brought me back
to my house without so much as a word and . . . just take me home.”
Kira turned away and stared out the side window at the trees.
“Please, just take me home.”

Lydia started the engine, and slipped the car
into gear. “I’m sorry,” she said again, but Kira didn’t
respond.

When they reached Kira’s driveway, Lydia
retrieved her pack and pulled out her camera. She opened the flap
on the side and removed the memory card. “Will you save the ones
near the bridge and delete the rest?”

“Yeah.” Kira took the card. “Can I ask you
something?”

“Of course.”

“Is that why he doesn’t live down
here—because he doesn’t want anyone to see him like that?”

“Partly. He actually tried it for a while.
When we first arrived in Montana, he cut his hair short, pulled on
a pair of blue jeans, and got a job in construction.”

“Montana?” Kira’s mind wandered back to when
she was younger. Her grandfather lived in Montana and she used to
visit him there in the summertime. Then an imagine of Octavion in
blue jeans popped into her head and the memory faded. “So, what
happened?”

“He hated it. For one thing, he doesn’t get
along very well with people. And for another . . .” She paused for
a moment. “He has a temper.”

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Giving his mount a tap on the rump, Octavion
released it to graze in the meadow with the other horses. He didn’t
like restraining animals, so had trained them to stay close. It
helped that he had a gift with such creatures—they trusted him.

Anxious to get out of his wet clothes,
Octavion returned to his lair before the girls even pulled out of
the parking area. Lydia had sent word that Kira seemed abnormally
quiet, and she was concerned that Altaria’s appearance had
frightened her. Several minutes later, Lydia sent another message
that struck his temples and gave him a splitting headache.

Thanks a lot, Octavion. You give me all these
rules of what I can and can’t tell Kira, and then you go and expose
our heritage. Now what am I supposed to say to her? How will I
explain what she saw? AAAH! It infuriates me that you can’t answer.
Meet me at my house. We need to talk.

Octavion ignored her as best he could and
didn’t obey her commands. The last thing he wanted was a
confrontation with his sister—especially since she was right. What
he’d done was stupid. Even more, he’d put Kira’s life at risk. What
if her fall had caused an injury that bled?

And then there was the ride back in the rain.
His face had been buried in her hair for most of the trip. Her
scent almost forced him over the edge. He couldn’t get away fast
enough to stifle the burn that attacked the back of his throat. It
was careless of him, allowing her to be so close after the moon’s
dark phase.

He took in a deep breath, trying to suppress
the hunger that twisted in his gut, but it only made the need
stronger. He looked down at his vest to find that two long, red
hairs had caught in the leather lace of his vest, then realized her
wet hair had pressed against him, leaving her sweet incense behind.
He ripped off his vest as the muscles in his back swelled. The
primal instincts that plagued him took over his senses and
heightened his hunger.

He needed to feed.

Since the next day was Memorial Day and there
was no school, Kira sent a message to Lydia who agreed to meet her
at the park. Their plan was to have a
normal
girl’s day out,
with no talk of magic or other worlds. Lydia offered to pick her
up, but Kira wanted the exercise and decided to walk instead. Plus,
she needed to clear her head.

When she got to the park, Lydia wasn’t there
yet. Kira decided to find some shade and relax while she waited.
She’d just sat down on a bench when she heard the squeal of brakes
and a child’s scream. Instinct kicked in and before Kira processed
what she was doing, she’d made her way to where a crowd had formed.
Pushing her way through, she saw a young woman holding a little
girl, her eyes overflowing with tears.

“Save him, Mommy,” she cried.

Kira looked to the pavement to find a little
white dog and it didn’t appear to be breathing.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am. He just came out of
nowhere,” a man said as he bent to pick the dog up from the
ground.

Kira pushed her way forward and knelt down to
take the dog from him. “Sir, let me see him.” She just wanted to
make sure it wasn’t dead, she told herself, but all she could think
about was how upset the child was, and how Octavion would approve
of her healing it. After all, he loved animals. He wouldn’t want
one to suffer.

The man handed Kira the limp pup.

Kira knew instantly that the dog wasn’t
breathing, but she felt a faint heartbeat. As with her broken arm,
she concentrated on the injuries and found that she actually saw
them in her mind. He had a broken hip and some internal
bleeding.

“Can you save him?” the girl asked, big tears
streaming down her freckled cheeks.

I can heal him
, Kira thought. “I think
he just got the wind knocked out of him,” she lied. She tried to be
inconspicuous by stroking his side. She closed her eyes and focused
on healing him. A prickly sensation ran down her arm and into her
hand, making her pull away. The tips of her fingers tingled.
Instantly, the dog took a breath and the crowd gasped in
unison.

“He’s alive,” she heard a man say from behind
her.

With one more stroke of her hand, the fluffy
little creature sprang from Kira’s arms and ran to its owner.

“Fuzzy!” the little girl cried, taking her
friend into her arms and hugging it tight.

The crowd cheered.

“Thank you,” the mother said.

Kira shrugged. “He was just winded.”

That felt good.
Kira stood and watched
for a moment as the crowd began to dissipate, but when she turned
around, a young boy stood in front of her holding a cell phone up
as if taking pictures.
What have I done
? The thought no
sooner left her mind when a strong hand pulled her up onto the
curb.

“What did you do?” Lydia asked, panic in her
voice.

“I’m sorry. The little girl was crying
and—”

“You promised.” Lydia pulled her across the
grass and behind a tree where they had more privacy. “Did anyone
see you? Did you hear anyone say it was a miracle or anything like
that?”

“No.” She didn’t dare tell her about the cell
phone. Lydia would freak. “Do you have to tell Octavion?”

Lydia let out a huff of air. “I don’t think
he needs anything else to worry about.” But then she closed in on
Kira so that their faces were mere inches apart. “You can’t do this
again. You understand that, right?”

“Never again. I promise.” Kira reached up and
tucked a piece of flyaway hair behind her ear, putting the Crystor
in Lydia’s view.

Lydia grabbed Kira’s wrist and pulled it
closer to her face. “What’s this?”

Kira had taken a heart charm off an old
necklace earlier that morning and attached it to the bracelet to
make it look more feminine. “It’s just a charm. I thought it looked
good on there.”

Lydia let go of Kira’s hand and leaned back
against the tree. “Oh, Kira. Octavion said you
knew
.”

“Knew what?”

“When he explained what happened the night I
was hurt, he said you couldn’t see it at first. That means it’s
probably invisible to those from your world.”

“What?” Kira had completely forgotten about
that. So much happened that first night, none of it seemed real.
How was she supposed to remember such a small detail? She grabbed
the charm and unhooked it. “I’m sorry, Lydia. I forgot.”

“Hopefully no one noticed, because all they
would see is a charm hanging in midair, attached to nothing.”

“What will happen if someone noticed?”

Lydia didn’t answer, but Kira knew by the
deep furrow in her brow that she was worried. “I’m sorry, Kira. I
might have to tell him now. He’ll want to know.”

Kira’s heart sank. “I understand.”

Neither one of them felt much like chatting,
so Lydia took her home. Kira spent the rest of the day going
through the pictures. When she got to those Lydia had taken of the
box canyon, she systematically erased them—one by one—except when
the last picture came into view. It was the one of Octavion and
Kira on the horse. She hesitated for a moment, not sure if she
should go against his wishes. But then, who would know? She
performed a few editing tricks to her flyaway hair and cropped the
edges of the photo. When it came out of the printer, it was
perfect—if nothing else, she had one thing to remind her all this
was real.