Mercy (19 page)

Read Mercy Online

Authors: Rhiannon Paille

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Paranormal

BOOK: Mercy
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She almost drowned. Her insides shook as the revelation hit her. The woman in red was ten times scarier than Michael ever was and the flaming red sword nagged at her memory. She felt so exhausted she wanted to close her eyes and let the dream world take over. Flashes of snow lived behind her eyelids. She watched the scene over and over again. Tiny white flakes drifted to a snow covered field of boulders. Her head felt heavy and she swayed back and forth, unable to fight the pending nightmare.

Footsteps crunched the snow and her eyes snapped open. She had a close up view of her jeans and mittens, but she was too afraid to look at the other person in the ravine, afraid it was the woman in red. She squeezed her eyes shut and rocked back and forth trying to convince herself this wasn’t happening. She wasn’t being stalked by some psychotic woman in red and Michael didn’t move to Kenora to kill her. Her teeth chattered violently as cold slipped further under her jacket, pouring through spaces in her wool sweater. She felt a sharp pain across her heart as footsteps neared her, slow, methodical, pounding ice. She squeezed her knees tighter to her chest, not wanting to look when the thick flaming blade came down on her.

Arms circled her, forcing her out of her makeshift shell and to her feet. A hand on the back of her neck guided her head to a shoulder and a strong lean frame steadied her. She inhaled leather and skin, alight with the faint smell of hospital hallways. She blinked unable to discern what was happening as a hand slid down her back. Her stomach flip-flopped as his other hand secured her arm around his waist. He didn’t say anything for a long time, rubbing her back and stroking her hair, his fingers feeling along her temple.

She let go of the fear and melted into him, unable to fight it. Her body was ready to give out, and he was pouring strength into her, making all the cold on the inside evaporate as heat flushed through her. She didn’t want to admit it but he felt safe, and after all these months it was the last thing she thought she’d feel. She pressed her forehead to his leather jacket and let out a protesting whimper, but he gripped her harder.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, the smooth accented syllables making a trill of tingles explode from her torso outwards. She took a deep breath, the fear of the woman in red replaced by the fear of feeling something for Michael. She shook her head and made the sound again, not quite saying no, but making the sound vibrate in the back of her throat. She grabbed fistfuls of his leather jacket and forced him back, staring at him with shock.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. His sapphire eyes were soft, full of concern, something she’d only seen at the hospital that one time. She stumbled back.

“I like coming here,” he said, shrugging, and all the emotion of the moment drained away.

Maeva blinked, coming to her senses, blotting out the image of the woman in red. “But it’s minus thirty.” She eyed his leather jacket and gray scarf. It was buttoned up but there was no way it was warm enough in this weather. And he wasn’t wearing gloves or a hat either, his black hair sticking up haphazardly in every direction.

He shrugged. “The cold doesn’t bother me anyway.” His usual wall of indifference came up as he turned and walked away. She let out a breath, knowing she felt safer walking with him than by herself.

O O O

He shouldn’t have touched her.

The faint smell of violets, mingled with the lavender in her hair reminded him of soft white curls, honey lips trailing kisses down his neck, fingers tracing circles on his chest. He hunched his shoulders up and tried to stifle the vivid memories but her liquid amethyst eyes rushed to the forefront of his mind, suffocating him in everything she used to be.

All the things she wasn’t anymore.

The girl behind him was clumsy but careful, shuffling through snow at a steady pace. He kept his head down, hands stuffed into his pockets, snow falling into his messy spiked hair. The land sloped downwards and he slid a little, but caught his balance. He glanced at her, the natural compassion he used to feel worrying its way into his heart. She had her head down, hood up, stray curls trailing down her shoulders. Her gloved hands were in her pockets, the zipper of her coat pinching her black and white plaid scarf. She slowed, treading down the hill with caution. Her hazel eyes met his for a brief second. He turned, not wanting her to see his weakness.

He stayed to the side of the road until he saw a big gray metal building, Earl’s Garage. The Sundance was parked in the lot, an orange cord plugged into one of the outlets. The lake was a smooth sheet of ice, howling winds whiplashing against each other in the wide-open space. He stopped by a scraggly tree at the edge of the parking lot, waiting for Kaliel to catch up.

The look on her face could have cut glass. She narrowed her eyes at the lake, and blinked in rapid succession. Her mouth opened, closed, and tears formed in her eyes.

“What the hell,” she muttered, putting a gloved hand over her mouth and passing him, walking slowly through the lot. She seemed oblivious he was there, or she was trying to ignore all the electricity between them, something he wished he could do. He looked up the road and thought about leaving but a hiccup escaped her throat and he groaned, following her to the docks.

“Come on,” he said, breaking into a brisk stride as she gave him the same terrified look she had given him at the waterfall. She was hiding from something, or someone. For the first time since he’d found her she didn’t have her defenses up. In that moment she was completely defeated, unwilling to fight back. He stepped off the banks and onto the frozen lake. His footsteps crunched snow but hers stopped. She stood on the ledge staring at the frozen water like she was trying to figure something out. She hugged her arms to her chest, her lips a slight shade of blue.

Against everything he promised himself about not letting her see the desperate boy in him he stalked back to her and forced himself to look into her eyes. Under the thick gray sky her eyes were a mix of amber and milk chocolate. Olive green clouds expanded between flecks of hazel and he gulped. “You’re cold,” he said, seeing proof of it on her cheeks.

Her distraught look shifted to confusion. “You’re being nice to me.”

Krishani shook himself out of his reverie and stormed off across the lake, wanting her to be safely in her house before he went back to the flat. Not surprising, his chest felt heavy and the cold made his throat scratchy. He didn’t relish the thought of powdery pills and tap water forcing him into a dreamless sleep. He looked at her over his shoulder. “It’s a limited time offer.”

She squared her shoulders, the usual cadence returning. She took a couple careful steps and jogged to catch up, stepping in sync with his long strides. She didn’t talk, but glanced at the lake a lot and shoved her scarf over her nose when the wind picked up; batting her cheeks a bright red.

“You didn’t tell me you lived on an island,” Krishani said, trying to break the awkward silence.

She shrugged. “You don’t talk to me, so I don’t talk to you.” They passed a small island on the right, and continued across the stark landscape. He followed close; not jogging because of the pain it caused his lungs. He spotted a faint back porch light through the branches of an evergreen. She stepped on a snow-covered platform and disappeared through trees for a moment until he caught up, nervously hanging by the edge of the porch. He made out shapes of things concealed by snow; an outdoor dining set on the left, two upside down canoes on the right, pressed against a thick ridge of trees and bushes. Kaliel pulled a set of keys out of her pocket. She fumbled with the doorknob, her fingers stiff. She glanced at him.

“You don’t have to stay.…” She pushed the door open, stepping inside the house. Krishani crossed the yard and caught the door with his open palm, stinging cold melting into his nerves. He felt a muscle spasm in the crook of his neck and pushed his shoulders up, smoothing out kinks. She met his eyes, her hand falling off the door as she pulled down her hood and unwound the scarf from around her neck. She took off the coat, unzipped her boots, wincing. Krishani discarded his boots, setting them on the rack beside hers.

She shuffled into the living room, her pants scratching against each other, the only noise in the quiet house. He realized nobody else was home. She sat on the couch and he crossed the threshold, taking a seat on the other couch opposite her.

“Why were you at the waterfall?” he asked, not really knowing where to begin.

She let out the breath she was holding in and dropped her hands on the couch, making throw pillows bounce. “I was on my way home and I thought I saw something … someone and I …”

Krishani frowned; feeling like an ice cube had been dropped down the back of his shirt. “You weren’t here?”

Kaliel shook her head. “I was at the youth group dance last night.”

“All night?”

Kaliel nodded, raising her eyebrows. “Yeah and when I got home … oh god it sounds so stupid now.” She buried her face in her hands and Krishani watched her cave in on herself, stifling another hiccup.

He didn’t want to see this. After everything that happened he couldn’t see her vulnerable. It undid him, the urge to pull her into his arms and protect her from all the bad things threatening to hurt her, suffocated him. He gripped the couch, squeezing until his broken wrist screamed in pain. He hated wearing the brace the hospital gave him, but Elwen insisted on doing everything to heal the sprain from the car accident. He wasn’t going to tell her. There was no way she’d believe him if he told her the truth. He went into the kitchen, feeling like a stranger in her house. A series of glass containers were lined up on the granite counter, one of them full of tea bags. He pushed on the tap.

“What are you doing?” Kaliel asked from the living room, fear in her voice.

“Do you have a kettle?” he asked trying to divert his attention for a little while from how amazing she smelled and how fragile she looked. It was hard not to see Aulises in her, and hard not to think about the last thing she said to him, thousands of years ago. He tested the water with his right hand and cursed, pulling his fingers out of the scalding water.

“It’s on top of the fridge … are you making me tea?”

Krishani grabbed the kettle, throwing it under the tap for a bit and plugging it into the power bar by the toaster. He braced his hands on the counter.

“That I am.” He was as surprised by it as she was, but he had to do something to distract himself. He let out a breath, trying to work up the courage to face her, not sure when he suddenly became affected by her. He crashed the car Elwen gave him, and she was there, pulling him out. After the way he’d shut her out for the past few months, he didn’t know why she’d put herself in danger to help him. Silence covered them until the kettle whistled and he found two mugs, pouring a cup for both of them. His fingers ached where he’d almost burned them but he ignored the pain as he went back into the living room putting the mug on the coffee table.

She eyed him nervously and took the mug, using it to warm her cold hands. “Why are you being nice to me?”

He sighed. “Something scared you, what was it?”

She took a long sip and scrunched her nose up. “You didn’t add any sugar.”

“I didn’t know you liked sugar.”

She laughed and shook her head, taking her mug to the kitchen and grabbing a box of sugar cubes from a top cupboard. “You don’t know anything about me.”

He hummed. “I wouldn’t say that.”

She glared at him and sat on the couch crunching her legs to her chest. “Do you make tea for all the girls you hate?”

“What?”

“I think you made it very clear you don’t like me. I don’t know why you’re being nice.”

Krishani narrowed his eyes to slits. “You’re avoiding my question.”

“You didn’t ask a question.”

He put the tea on the coffee table and fixed her with his penetrating gaze. “Are you going to tell me what you saw?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s insane. I already made an ass of myself last night. I’ve reached my quota for the century.” She covered her face with the mug, taking another long sip, her eyes on the mug, her bare feet rubbing together on the couch. He looked at the dark patch of her jeans, the soaked part almost reaching her bent knees. He didn’t know what to say to make her trust him and for once his inability to get through to her hurt. He sighed and stood, moving into the kitchen. He was getting nowhere with her and he had other things to do, things that didn’t involve being around her. The way she looked at him, the way she spoke to him, it made a very different kind of pain crunch into him. He had to get out before he broke down.

“She had a flaming red sword and red … everything. Her eyes were like rubies and she cracked the ice. I thought I was going to drown so I ran.” Kaliel said it monotone.

Krishani turned and she was right behind him, leaning against the thin strip of wall separating the kitchen from the living room. Her hands were around the warm part of the mug and her cheeks were flushed, eyes hesitant. He bunched his hands into fists and tried not to punch the wall, taking a seething breath in and letting it out. Anger coiled every muscle.

“Cossisea,” he said under his breath, thinking about the Ruby Flame of War. She was a champion to the Prince of Darkness. Kaliel frowned and he raised his voice. “Did you do anything else? Did …” He cut himself off and dropped his eyes to the decorative linoleum. He couldn’t ask if Cossisea saw her eyes turn amethyst or her aura flare. She wouldn’t know if she had done those things.

“She wasn’t even there. I … I imagined the whole thing. Probably my fear of water—”

Krishani felt like she had slapped him. “You weren’t afraid of water before.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he realized his mistake, dropping his eyes to the ground.

“Before?” He heard her step into the kitchen and put her mug on the table. “I’ve been afraid of water since the concussion I had when I was five.”

Krishani shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

She crossed her arms and glared at him. “How did you know about the waterfall?”

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