Heirs of War (11 page)

"Yes and no. I don't know. I'm just scared," Isauria said in a small voice.

"I know," Rhaya answered as she gave her hand a squeeze of comfort. "I know," she repeated softly. "Part of me is, too. We just need to stick together. We had each other's backs in the alley, and it all worked out," she offered.

She felt comforted by this thought as well. They had connec
ted instantly, and now she could see why. Their paths had been intertwined from the beginning and in ways she still wasn't sure she understood, but she found herself relieved to have company on the strange journey she was embarking on.

***

Isauria didn’t sleep. Almost the instant she closed her eyes, she was somewhere else. She had been experiencing little flashes as they traveled that day, but she’d only added them to the list of strange occurrences of the day. Magic, visions, portals…She must have really slipped over the edge.

Her dreams automatically took her to Terrena, and her heart clenched at the sight of her. Kenward hugged her close, her blood covering her clothes and his as he raced through Anscombe. People gasped at the spectacle, but let him pass without question as he ran through the streets. He moved faster than anyone carrying such a load should be able to, finally making it to the city center and taking the stairs two at a time for several flights before he reached what looked like a hospital.

A pretty blonde woman with a young, yet stern face met him at the door, her eyes full of worry. “What’s happened?”

“This is Ainnir Terrena,” Kenward answered as he lowered Terrena onto one of the beds. “She was attacked. I mean, we were attacked. They made a tree explode before I could get to her.”
His bloodied hands clutched the sides of his head, tears forming as he looked down at her. “Please, paion. Help her.”

“I will do everything I can—“

Kenward grabbed the paion by the arms and pulled her close so that they were nose to nose. If he hadn’t been fighting sobs, the action might have come across as more threatening than pleading, though Isauria wasn’t sure which he meant for it to be. “You don’t understand. I can feel her slipping away. She’s barely there. Please.”

The woman patted the hand gripping her. “I will do my best, Cyneward. But you must release me first.”

Kenward released her and paced away. The distance from hi ward didn’t last, and in two short strides he was next to her again. He knelt beside Terrena’s head, clutching her hand in his. “Please, my Terra. You must fight.”

“She is Duillaine,” the paion said as she began to strip away Terrena’s dress. “She is stronger than you give her credit for.”

“She is weak, and heartbroken, and tired. We have been running for some time now. I worry…”

“You worry what? Speak now, Cyneward, before the Duillaine
Banair arrive and remind you of your role.”

“I worry that she might not want to fight anymore.”

The paion lifted a brow. “Then you must continue to speak to her. Remind her. Call her back.”

Isauria watched in horror as the paion went to work on Terrena’s wound and Kenward continued to beg Terrena to be strong. He murmured his pleas into the back of her hand, clutching it to his mouth as he prayed for the Great Mother to save his daughter.

Isauria wanted to turn away from the healer’s bloody work, but she found herself entranced by it. The woman could only be a few years older than her, but she moved with the ease and expertise as someone with twice the experience. She methodically pulled the debris from the tree from Terrena’s abdomen, using something that looked like a medieval turkey baster to suction the blood. Then she would place a hand over the wound and close her eyes in concentration before moving on to find another piece, however small.

She paced the floor as the paion continued to treat Terrena. She knew it wasn’t rational to be so upset, but Terrena felt like an old friend to her. She’d been with her through so many adventures and so many trials, it was impossible to not feel a deep connection to her. She wondered if this is what other authors felt when their characters’ lives hung in the balance.

She jumped as a woman burst through the door, a man on her heels. “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded.

“Who is that?” the man pointed at Terrena with a shaky finger.

The paion failed to stifle an impatient groan as she answered. “As I am certain my galena explained, this is Ainnir Terrena. She was attacked and gravely injured. Now I must—“

The man
marched over to Kenward, his face twisting into a scowl of rage. “You! Get your vile hands off my daughter. You were supposed to protect her. Where were you? I will see to it you are punished for this, Athrucrean. You will never come near my daughter again.”

Kenward’s head snapped up at the threat, and he was on the man in an instant, gripping him by the throat and snarling into his face. “Just try to come between me and my ward right now, Leone. I’ve not snapped enough necks today. My fingers are itching to feel more.”

The woman calmly lifted a hand, and a blast of air threw the men apart. “Leone, you will leave now. I will send you word of Terrena’s recovery.”

“What? You expect me to leave? This is my daughter, Sylvanna. I am not leaving this room until I know she is safe and healthy.”

“She has a Cyneward for that reason, as do all Duillaine.”

Leone threw a hand out to gesture to his injured daughter. “Clearly, her Cyneward failed. Clearly, you were wrong to send them away. I will stay by her side as I should have done eighteen years—“

“You will leave, or I will force you.” Sylvanna’s voice was quiet but rippling with power. “She will live, as Bianca would have been able to assure you had you not decided to accost her protector. You know how the Cynewards react when their wards are in danger.” She held up a hand as he started to protest. “I care not for your feelings on the Cynewards or for the manner in which you question your leaders. Your role on the council is an honor, but it is one that can be revoked if you do not treat your duties with the urgency they require.”

“What could possibly be more important than ensuring the care of my daughter?” he asked with a sneer, and Isauria couldn’t help but agree with him. Even if he did treat Kenward terribly, he still had a point.

“The return of your other daughter,” Sylvanna said calmly. “Solanna has seen it. They are coming. We must prepare.”

CHAPTER NINE

Hours later, Zelene sat in the bathtub at the hotel, the hot spray from the shower doing nothing to ease the shivers continually running up and down her spine. The scene from her house kept replaying over and over again. Finding Nora dead. The man spewing his crazy talk as he threatened her life. And the glassy stare he held after she had pulled the trigger, an eerie
glint of amusement somehow frozen on his face as though he knew a secret about her and was taking it to his grave on purpose.

She wished her parents were here. Now, in all this confusion and horror, she missed them more than ever. Thinking of them usually brought about a wave of anger towards the drunk driver that had taken them from her, but she was too lost to even feel that. With one flex of her finger on the trigger, her whole life had changed. Any minute, the cops were going to come pounding down their hotel room door and take her away. She hugged her knees closer to her chest as she trembled with fear over her bleak future.

So deep in her own troubled thoughts, she didn’t realize Kyle had been knocking on the bathroom door until he came in. She had heard it, but somehow his voice hadn’t registered. He pulled the shower curtain back and no protests escaped her trembling lip. It didn’t matter. Not anymore. Not when any moment the police were going to cart her off.

He turned off the water,
knelt down beside the bathtub, and wrapped a towel around her. "You're turning into a prune. And you're using up all the hot water."

"Sorry," she mumbled as she wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I just...I keep seeing
that guy lying there. I killed him. When I’m not seeing him, I see Nora. I keep seeing them and all the blood...it felt like it wouldn't come off."

He squeezed her shoulders through the towel. "I know. I know this isn't easy, but I need you to be strong, okay? Can you do that for me?"

She nodded and wiped her tears away. "Do you know why this is happening? What did Varrick say again?"

"I wish I did. But Varrick said he'll find us after he's, um, done with whatever he's taking care of."

His answer was a lot more evasive than she expected, making her worry that Kyle might be keeping his own fair share of secrets from her. She couldn’t understand why he had run off with her to begin with. Anyone else would have left her to deal with the aftermath and bailed. With the way he’d been acting the last six months, she would have expected nothing short of Kyle running in the opposite direction of any trouble she found herself in. But here he was, still by her side and possibly making himself an accessory to murder. It left her with more questions than she could handle at the moment, so she focused on her appreciation instead.

"I'm sorry you got stuck with me. But thank you. For saving me, I mean. And not leaving me."

Kyle looked struck by her words, his face softening as he stared down at her in the same way that had always melted her heart before. He cleared his throat and ran a hand over the top of his head. "Yeah, well, you saved me too, so we can call it even. Just...do me a favor and get dressed, okay?"

She smiled despite herself and her circumstances and nodded. He gave her back a pat before standing up, though she could see he was hesitant to leave. The way his eyes skimmed over her naked back was enough to warm her skin, giving her goose bumps of a different nature. She was glad he left, because she really wasn’t thinking straight right now.

After a few minutes, she emerged from the bathroom in the tank top and jeans from the Varrick’s emergency bag. She twisted the ends of her hair in the towel as she crossed the room. Kyle was flipping through the channels on the TV, his face pinched as if he had other concerns than what to watch. She walked to the window and pulled the curtain back just enough to look out. She squinted against the bright lights of the red and orange truck stop across the way, the effect made the gas station look like it had been happily set aflame. Her attention drifted to the grocery store nearby, and she fought a shiver at the large pig grinning stupidly at her from the sign, almost as if the cartoon symbol knew trouble was on the horizon, and was amused by it.

“Feeling better?”

She nodded and joined him on the bed. “A bit. You’re right. Now’s not the time to freak out.”

A
chill crept its way up her spine, her teeth chattering for a brief moment. Kyle reached to the end of the bed and pulled the folded blanket toward them. He wrapped it around her and tucked the edges underneath her legs. He glanced up after he was certain she was as snug as possible and met her smile with his own.

"Thank you," she said softly. She turned her attention to the TV, watching without seeing the im
ages blinking across the screen. "Can I ask you a question?"

He leaned back against the pillow and gestured for her to do the same. "If you’re about to ask about dinner, I have no idea."

"No," she said slowly as she lowered herself onto her side, folding her arms underneath her head as she stared at him with wonder. "I just...I don't understand why you're still here. I mean, that guy nearly killed you."

"And if I hadn't been there, he would have killed you."

"I know, and believe me—I'm glad you were there. But I don't understand why you would risk your life for me."

"Come on, Zee. You really think I would let anything happen to you?"

Zelene didn’t know how to answer that. He had literally thrown himself into harm’s way to keep her safe today. But he had also gone out of his way to make her life miserable since their breakup.

Kyle sat up and flipped through the channels furiously as she thought this over. When she didn’t respond, he tossed the remote down on the bed with a huff.

"Dammit, are you serious? I might be an asshole, but I'm not heartless. I'm not going to knowingly let someone get hurt, let alone you. We grew up together."

"But you hate me," she pressed as she sat up, her raspy voice thick with uncertainty. She flinched at the
dirty look he directed at her. "Sorry. I just...I never would have guessed in a million years you would be the person helping me when I'm running for my life. But I'm glad you did. That you are, I mean. It makes me hate you a little less."

"Only a little, huh?"

She returned his chuckle with a smirk. "Heroics go so far when you're still an asshole."

"Very true," he said
.

Zelene turned her attention back to the flickering images on the television, though not really registering what she was seei
ng. Her stomach flipped around, and her mind was conflicted. She felt like they were moments away from making everything better between them, but she didn’t know how it possibly could be after everything that had happened. She hadn’t meant to kill that man, but it had happened. There was no escaping that. She pulled the blanket a little tighter around her, wishing it could shield her from the truth.

"I don't hate you," Kyle blurted out.

She turned toward him, a dubious look on her face. "Coulda fooled me."

H
e stared at the comforter, his finger tracing the pattern of yellow flowers. "Breaking up with you and everything I did…It was never about hating you. You just—I...."

"I didn't fit into your world anymore?"

He winced as she threw his words in his face once again. "Something like that. It's a long story, and you've got enough on your mind right now."

He wasn’t wrong about that. She wasn’t sure she could take much more, so she didn’t push the topic. At the cue of her rumbling stomach, she decided to change the subject.

"We could order pizza.”

"I wonder who delivers here. I'm not even really sure where we are, to be honest."

"Call the front desk and ask them," she suggested as he stretched his stiff arms above him. "Oh—Kyle, you have blood on your shirt."

"Shit," he muttered
and went to the sink. He grabbed a rag, ran it under some water, and scrubbed, cussing more and more as the spots refused to come out of his favorite button-up shirt. "How noticeable is the blood?"

Zelene walked over and took the rag from him, trying her hand at scrubbing his shirt. "Maybe we should run the stain under some water. Take your shirt off."

"Right here?"

"First of all, I've seen you way more naked than what you are about to be. Second of all, after everything we just went through, are you seriously getting squeamish about taking your shirt off in front of me? I was buck-naked in there," she said pointing to the shower, "and you didn't seem to mind."

With no better retort, he childishly mimicked her words and started unbuttoning his shirt. "Point taken. Just try to contain yourself, okay?"

"Please. I still hate you, remember? Shock can do a hell of a lot of things, but
I'm not that far gone."

"Ouch—still hate me even after I saved your life?"

"You did spend the last six months trying to make the life you just saved miserable. And I'm sure that's not going to change once all this is over. You
are
still an asshat."

"True," he grunted as he tried to wiggle out of the sleeves. He stilled as her hands reached over and slid the shirt off him. "Thanks."

She frowned as he winced in pain. "You didn't tell me you were hurt."

"It's not a big deal."

She turned him around so she could look at his injured back, which was discolored around his shoulder blade. "How did this happen?"

"He threw me up against something. The fridge, I think. I don't know—it's sort of hazy, you know?"

“I know what you mean.” She grabbed the bucket from the side of the sink. "I'll go get some ice."

Kyle whipped around, grabbing her by the wrist a
nd yanking her back to him. "No, I'll be fine," he insisted with an edge of panic in his voice. "Just...don't leave the room without me, okay? For all we know, they're looking for us right outside."

Zelene blanched at the idea of this, throwing a tentative
look to the door as she took an automatic step closer to him. "Sorry, I didn't think."

His hand was still wrapped around her wrist, though his grip had loosened. Their hands hung in the air
between them, the connection igniting the spark that always lingered with them. Zelene could feel that familiar heat pulling them closer, almost like Kyle was a magnet that always pulled her in.

"I'm sorry, too,” he whispered as he linked his fingers through hers. “I didn't mean to...you just freaked me out. I don't want anything to happen to you."

She searched his eyes, questioning the sincerity in them without words. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Old habits."

"Maybe it’s the shock talking, but I'm glad you’re here with me."

"It must be the shock because I am too."

"Because we hate each other," she continued as she drifted closer. "So acting any different is...weird."

He shook his head, hooking his arm around her waist. "We don't hate each other."

"We don't?" she asked as she glanced up from beneath her lashes at him. "I'm pretty sure I hate you."

He smirked confidently. "Show me how much you hate me, then."

"I can't right now. You’ve got the whole hero thing going on. I'm just too appreciative."

"Hero, huh? I like the sound of that." He took a few steps forward,
guiding her towards the wall behind them. "For someone who hates me, you sure can't keep your hands off me."

She gasped
as he lifted her off the ground. She snaked her arms around his neck and allowed him to grab her knees and wrap them around his waist. "I could say the same for you."

"It must be the shock."

"Must be," she agreed in a soft whisper, leaning forward to find his lips. She knotted her fingers in his hair as their kiss deepened, and he pressed her into the wall. She gasped as he kissed his way down her neck, pulling the strap of her tank top off her shoulder. "Bed," she panted.

He nodded his agreement into her neck, getting a better grip on her legs as he walked them over to the bed and threw her across the mattress. He continued trailing kisses down her body until he reached her stomach, lifting her shirt so he could get to the skin underneath. Their hands found each other, linking together and tightening as if they couldn't get close enough.

She surprised him by abruptly pulling away. "Wait."

He raised his head to look at her. "What's wrong?"

"Tell me why," she said simply though the heavy question that had been unspoken threatened to suffocate them, sucking all of the air from the room.

"Are you trying to get me to tell you how hot you are?"

She pressed her lips into a tight frown, lifting herself onto her elbows to get a better view of him. "No. The past six months. Tell me why."

He groaned, sliding off the bed and resting his chin on her knees where her legs dangled over. "You mean why I broke up with you? Or why I've been such an asshole to you?"

"Both, I guess. I just don't understand. You've been hot and cold so much over the past year."