Night Myst (35 page)

The tears streaked his face, winding in rivulets down his cheeks. He was so alien, and yet so familiar to me. I knew him, knew him from the inside out. I was wondering when to tell him about discovering the truth about myself when I flashed . . .

We were sitting together on the top of a hill, and he was holding my hand. Only he wasn’t Grieve, and I wasn’t Cicely, but we were there, together, staring at a bloody pile of bodies that surrounded us.

“My love, we’re doomed. You know that, don’t you?”

And I—and yet it was not me—nodded. “They’ll be here any minute. This time, they’ll never let us go. What are we going to do?”

He held up a bottle. “We can escape to the future with this. We drink this together and we’ll be bound to return, to find one another again in a different time. And with the grace of the gods, we won’t be torn apart by our families, by our cultures.”

He stroked my long hair back, shaking his head. “I love you more than life itself,” he whispered. “They’re going to kill us, you know that. They’re going to torture us, tear us to shreds.”

I nodded. They were coming for our heads, and there was no place left to run. I took the bottle, recognizing the potion within. We’d die, yes, but it would set in motion a future for us to return, to find each other again, to finish what we’d started in this life.

“We’ve left a trail of carnage, that’s for sure. Your people can’t stand my shadows,” I said.

“And your people can’t stand my light.
My sweet Cherish.
Please—don’t let them part us. Who knows if we’ll find each other in the Land of the Silver Falls? This will bind us to the Wheel and we will return, together.”

I popped the top on the bottle. “Remember me, Shy. Remember me, and come find me. If I choose to return to this world, then I must have your promise that you’ll look for me.”

He placed his hand over mine as I held the bottle to my lips. “I promise to you, Cherish, by my blood and my heart, I will search for you with my dying breath.”

I tipped the bottle. Drank half the potion and handed it to him. He downed the rest, and we curled up, holding one another, listening to the distant shouts of those hunting us. They’d find us, all right, but we’d be out of their touch. We’d be off into the future.

And we’d find each other again, one way or another.

Shaking, I sat back and stared at him. “We were together . . . before. I thought we might have been.”

“Cicely . . .” Grieve gathered me into his arms, the tears flowing freely now. “I told you that I’ve been waiting for you. And now you’ve remembered, and we can truly be together again. I love you. I’ve loved you for lifetimes. And now, here we are and I won’t let you slip away this time.”

Together, yes, but once more, on opposite sides. Working for bitter enemies, pledged to ruthless factions out for each other’s blood. But all of it washed away as he sought my lips, kissing me deep. He washed away the feel of Lannan’s hands on me. Grieve slid his lips against mine, against my throat, licking at the marks that Lannan had left, leaving his own scent, his own claim. I tugged at his shirt and within seconds, he was as naked as I was.

I wanted him, needed him to cleanse me of the memory of Lannan’s touch. I ran my tongue down his stomach, down his thigh, around him as he grew thick and hungry. Grieve moaned and pulled me up to face him. He slid me onto his lap and I knelt, straddling him. He tucked one arm around my waist, the other under my butt, holding me, keeping me balanced, and as we rocked, rhythmically, I lost myself in the reflection of his eyes. And as we rode the dark wave, I forgot about vampires and wars and humiliation, and remembered what love was.

After, Grieve took me in his arms and the swirl of stars in the black globes of his eyes made me dizzy. “I know you flew last night. I know you found out what you are. I couldn’t tell you—I had to let you find out on your own.”

Feeling slightly feverish, I leaned my head against his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have believed you if you did. What do we do now, Grieve? Myst controls you and I work for her enemies. And now, she’s got Heather—a very powerful witch—and who knows how many others of the magic-born that she’s turned?” Lainule’s warning hung heavy in my heart and though I wanted to tell him—wanted to assure him she was okay, I kept my mouth shut.

“I’ll help you get Peyton back. I’ll think of something . . . there has to be a way.” He slid back into his clothing.

“How? We have to act fast—if they try to turn her, her half-breed blood may just very well kill her for good.”

Grieve frowned, thinking. “We’ll create a diversion so that I—or Chatter—can sneak her out. There has to be something to capture Myst’s attention enough to rally most of her guards.”

“Burn the forest. We start a fire. That should rout enough of them.” I pulled on my nightgown and bathrobe. All I wanted to do was sleep—sleep off the sex, the bloodletting . . . sleep off everything.

“You can’t burn the forest! You can’t even think of doing something so horrible. The Golden Wood is our home, our land.” The look on Grieve’s face took me aback.

I shook my head. “I’ll do whatever it takes, and nobody else has to like it. Besides, the snow won’t let it burn, not more than enough to get her notice.”

“Wait—give me tonight. I’ll figure out something. Please, don’t do something so rash.” He sounded so plaintive that I relented.

“All right, but if you haven’t got a plan by tomorrow, I’m taking a match out there and torching it. Understand? I’ll do whatever I have to in order to save any of their victims who happen to remain alive in the Barrow.”

Grieve nodded, then kissed me once more and slid out the window, vanishing into the night. Exhausted, I locked it, replaced the protection charm, and crawled into bed. The wolf on my stomach was rumbling, satisfied, and yet . . . there was something there . . . something odd . . .

Ignoring the slightly queasy feeling I had, I turned out the light and was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

The next morning, Rhiannon was gone to Anadey’s by the time I got up. Kaylin had apparently decided to take up residence because he was still there, and making breakfast at that. Leo had crashed out on the sofa in the living room. I frowned. It was time we got some order into the house.

“Yo, Kaylin, you going to live here or what? If so, let’s get you set up with a room. And why didn’t Leo go to bed last night? He and Rhiannon are sharing her bedroom.”

Kaylin flipped the pancakes, then handed me a double-shot latte with a sprinkling of cinnamon. “Yeah, I think I’ll stick around for a while. I have a place to live but you need me. As for Leo, he kept saying he could hear things outside. We’d go check every hour or so, but never saw a thing. I guess he couldn’t sleep.”

“Well, Grieve showed up last night in my room. He’s promised to figure out a way to get Peyton out alive.” I sipped the steaming liquid, grateful for the faint buzz of caffeine that was already rampaging through my system. I’d heard that it took forty-five minutes for the drug to hit the bloodstream. I didn’t believe it. “Damn, dude, this is strong.”

“All the better to wake you up. So how’s your neck this morning?”

I reached up to finger the area where Lannan had dug into me. The edges felt hot, raw. “Will you take a look? I’ve been queasy ever since I left his office. And not just because of what happened—it’s something else.”

As Kaylin gently brushed aside my hair to examine my neck, I winced. My stomach was getting worse. Just then, my wolf rose up, whimpering. A ribbon of fire raced through me, so dry that I felt like I was kindling held to a match. I clutched my stomach. My wolf was sick. Grieve was sick.

“Help me, Kaylin . . . I don’t feel so good.” I tried to stand up but my knees buckled and Kaylin caught me. Through the fog that was encompassing my mind, I heard him yell for Leo to wake, and then the next thing I knew, he was carrying me upstairs. I let out a little moan as he jostled me, turning at the landing. The sound of footsteps behind us penetrated the haze.

“What’s wrong with her?” Leo’s voice echoed through the blackness. I realized my eyes were shut and attempted to force them open.

“I don’t know. She complained about being hot—not feeling good. Look at the wound on her neck. What the fuck?”

Leo sucked in a hiss and I managed to open my eyes just a crack. “Water. I’m burning up.”

Kaylin brushed his hand across my forehead. “She’s hot, but not terribly so. Get her some water. Hurry.”

My eyes closed again as Leo’s face disappeared and I reached out, seeking comfort from the one who knew me best.

And then, Leo’s hands were behind me, lifting me up so I could drink. The water was cool as it ran down my throat, ice on a burn, and I let out a single cry as my stomach cramped again.

The slipstream eased just enough. I saw a chance to break out of the communion and leapt for the opening. There was a ripping sound, a horrible whining as if my wolf had been mangled and then—in the soft blink of an eye—I landed safe inside myself, the connection severed. My stomach ached from the spasms, but the pain began to diminish. The fog was lifting.

With Kaylin’s and Leo’s help, I slowly sat up, trembling. “What the fuck was that? Something’s happened to Grieve! I know it.” I tried to get up, to make it to the door but they stopped me and forced me back onto the bed.