Nightingale (22 page)

A flutter in my heart. 

You need to get up and do this. For both of us.
Beck’s voice is so clear he could be whispering in my ear.
I don’t want to live in a world without you. No matter what you are.

I wipe the back of my hand across my face.
Leave me alone.

Fight, Birdie. If not for you, th
an
for me. I’m begging you.

At Summer Hill, I thought I was strong. I believed I could overcome whatever awaited Beck and me.

But now, I see how foolish I was. Last night should never have happened. I should have forced him away. Because now he’ll never leave me. I made him promise and now I need him to undo it.

I don’t love you,
I lie. I lie and my heart sputters.

He doesn’t say anything.

24

I don’t recall coming in from the rain. Or being dressed.

I keep my hands firmly against my lips as I’m marched from my bedroom to the foyer. The harder I press, the deeper I shove the sobs back, locking them inside me.

Why are you doing this?
Beck’s voice invades my brain.
Do you think lying to me will make things easier?

Mother’s staff and my guards have gathered in the foyer. When Oliver announces me, all heads turn toward the top of the stairs where I stand in a stiff dress that constricts my breathing.

Why won’t you answer me?
Beck sounds wild and not at all like his normal collected self. I bite my lip to keep it from trembling. I can’t cry in front of the crowd. At least not the type of tears I want to shed.

Callum waits for me at the bottom. Mother will meet us at the Binding Hall.

“Don’t forget to smile.” Kyra squeezes my hand.  “And be graceful. Smile. Wave. ”

When I continue to stare blankly, she pushes ups the corners of my mouth. “Try.”

I sigh.

Oliver throws the thick glass doors open. A riot of joyous shouts erupts as my name is chanted with a maddening frenzy.

My eyes roam over the lined walkway, searching for a place to flee even though I know it’s of no use. This is happening.

The cheers grow louder and Kyra squeezes my hand again. “They love you, Lark.”

I shuffle my limp body forward. One step, then another. Beneath the tight lacing of my dress, my chest heaves and I choke back a sob.

Time doesn’t move. It spins and bends and stretches infinitely before me like a bad nightmare.

Nothing can soothe my pain.

But my pain is nothing compared to the despair Beck sends coursing through me. Everything around me blurs and the noise becomes unbearable. I lift my hands to cover my ears, but Callum latches on to me, and crushes my arm to his body.

Panic that is not mine floods through me. I can feel Beck pacing the perimeter of the crowd. I know he’s there, torturing himself. For both our sakes, he needs to stop this.

Don’t watch. Please,
I beg him in my mind.

His misery latches onto me. If I felt more stable, I’d try to overrun his emotions, but I’m barely holding myself together. I have nothing to give him.

I told you I wouldn’t leave you.
His voice shakes, matching the sputtering of my heart.

Guards surround me, and the extra security Mother’s hired for our short walk to the Binding Hall forms a line of protection between the crowd and me. I dig my heels into the ground, forcing Callum to half-drag me down the front steps.

“You’re going to have to do better if you want this to look believable,” my brother hisses.

The closer we come to the sidewalk, the more I stiffen and pull against him.

“Walk, Lark. Or I’ll have Annalise make you.”

We turn onto the sidewalk. People pack each side and jostle for position. Newscaster cameras buzz just over our heads, focusing their all-seeing eyes on me.

How I behave, right now, will be on every wallscreen within seconds. The ceremony may only be for show, but to the State and the non-witch population, this binding is for real. Forever. Until either Ryker or I die. And I need to sell it.

Please, Beck, don’t hate me. 

I lift my heavy arm and wave listlessly to the crowd. I pray they take me for a typical nervous girl and not the reluctant victim I am.

We turn left, away from the Presidio, and the bitter wind flutters my dress around my legs. Kyra had wanted to cast a warming spell on me, to keep me from freezing in my strapless dress and sheer wrap, but I refused. I need to feel something—even if it’s just the icy sting of early spring on my skin. I need to know I can still hurt.

That I’m still me and not a cruel, heartless monster.

My arm tingles beneath Callum’s constricting grip.

Four more blocks. That’s all there is between my future and me.

Three blocks.

Celebratory bells ring out when we reach the top of the final block.

Suddenly, something yanks at my heart and sends it thudding against my ribcage. It whirls like it’s trying to escape and blood rushes through my ears, drowning out the sounds of the crowd around me.

I swing my gaze to the left. Beck, disguised as Tom, stands just beyond the wall. His unfamiliar dark eyes are locked on me and his face drained of color.

Don’t do this to yourself,
I say.

He takes two steps forward, in my direction. His voice fills my mind.
I can’t let you do this.

I’m drowning in his pain. Air rushes from my lungs and I gasp. The crowd falls silent as my legs shake and collapse beneath me. Callum doesn’t try to break my fall.

“Are you okay?” Kyra asks as she frantically lifts me to my feet. “Can you walk? Should I get a healer?”

Annalise pushes herself into my line of vision. Her wristlet chirps and beeps as she scans my data. I close my eyes and rock back and forth while Kyra holds me upright.

“I can’t go on.” My voices cracks. “I thought I could, but I can’t.”

My sister-in-law brings her piercing blue eyes within inches of mine. “You can and you will.” Her face softens. “Please, Lark. If not for you, for the rest of us. Do this to keep us safe. Do your duty.”

My shoulders slump and I dart my eyes back toward Beck. Heartbreak fills the soft lines of the middle-aged face he’s assumed.

We could run.
Desperation oozes from his words.
Meet me at Kyra’s?

I draw a deep breath and shake my head.

His face falls and the air around him shimmers.

Next to me, Annalise inhales sharply and her fingers curl around my wrist, cutting off the flow of blood. “Keep your head up. Smile. And walk.”

I lift my chin but don’t make any effort to move.

She leans in so that only I can hear her words. “If you don’t, I’ll tell Malin where Beck is. And that, dear sister, won’t be pretty.”

#

The ceremony is a blur of words and blessings. Ryker pushes a silver band over my knuckle and we stare at each other, neither of us willing to do the next step, until the officiate instructs us to kiss.

Ryker leans toward me. I hold my head still and my eyes open. His lips graze mine, and I recoil like his mouth is poison.

If the audience notices, they pretend otherwise. Whistles and stomps surround us.

Ryker slips his warm hand around mine and leads me up the aisle. People reach out to me, begging me to touch them and bestow good luck on them.

How can I tell them I have none to give?

To my surprise, Henry occupies the seat next to Mother and looks almost as pained as me to be here. But I think it has more to do with Eloise’s continuing condition, than my new status as a bound States woman.

We step outside, into the foggy afternoon. The crowd cheers and Ryker kisses my cheek. This time, I stand still with a smile plastered on my face.

Ryker’s mother rushes out of the hall and begins fussing over us, gushing

about the good fortune of Ryker to marry into a family of such high standing. I want to tie her tongue to silence her and it takes every bit of concentration I have to not lash out.

With our entourage, we walk next door to the reception hall. The front of the building has been completely repaired. No one would ever know I blew the front off of it a week ago.

After Ryker and I are presented, we dine on a seven-course meal. There’s dancing and receiving lines. Smiles and congratulations. Piles of gifts.

Except while we dine, Ryker stays by my side, his hand pressed into the small of my back. If he’s angry about what happened with Lena, he isn’t showing it.

A bell rings, silencing the crowd. Mother stands and addresses the guests. “It’s time to bid the new couple goodnight.”

Kyra’s at my side, patting my hand. “Are you nervous?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Something like that.”

She giggles. “I’ll come over tomorrow and you can tell me all about it, okay.”

I don’t bother to say there will be nothing to tell. Ryker won’t touch me. Beck said as much. “Okay.”

Ryker bows to me and I place my hand in his. He leads me to the side door. All around us, guests laugh and cheer.

And then we’re outside. With just Oliver and Dawson. The younger of my guards drapes my wrap over my shoulders. With a nod, Dawson pushes the exit open. A few people still linger, waiting for one more glimpse of us. They wave, but I keep my head down and concentrate on the air rushing in and out of my lungs.

A transporter waits for us. I’ve only been in one a handful of times since they’re mainly used for special occasions, but from the way Ryker grasps the handle on his seat, I can tell he’s never been in one.

As we travel away from the hall, it occurs to me I have no idea where our new home is. We turn on to Spruce Street. I tap Oliver on the shoulder. “Are we going to Mother’s?”

He shakes his head. “Your house is on Jackson. A block over.”

I envision the street layout and my heart stops.

“Kyra lives on Jackson,” I say to Ryker, hoping he understands what I’m implying.

He draws his eyebrows together. “Wonderful.”

The transporter stops before Kyra’s house. Dawson points at the yellow house across the street, next to Annalise’s. “Welcome home, Miss Lark and Mr. Ryker.”

The only thing that could possibly be worse is if Mother had us living with Kyra. “Looks like we won the housing lottery.”

#

Ryker sits on one end of a long sofa with me on the other. Since Oliver and Dawson showed us to our bedroom, we’ve both been pretending the other one isn’t in the room. It’s funny, up until a few months ago, we’d always lived in the same house, ate our meals together, saw each other in our night clothes. But we’ve never really been alone. 

To say this is awkward is an understatement and if I don’t do something—anything—soon, I’m going to die.

“Do you want to explore the house?” I ask. So far, neither of us have mentioned Lena or Beck, and I’m okay with that. “It looks
fabo
, as Kyra would say.”

He fidgets with his green wristlet and avoids my eyes. “I’m hungry. Maybe order something to eat? I couldn’t eat at the reception.”

“I’ll call the cook. What would you like? Something with bananas?” Bethina used to tease Ryker that he’d turn into a monkey because he ate so many bananas. At least I know this about my mate.

Ryker pretends to study the view out the window. “That would be great. And maybe some milk?”

There are a million things I want to say, starting with, “I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you,” but instead, I’m speaking into my wristlet and giving orders to the staff. Our staff. I keep forgetting I have my own household now. And a mate. Or two, depending on how you count.

While I place our order, I catch Ryker sneaking looks at me. You’d think years of familiarity would give me a hint to his thoughts, but I draw a blank.

“Do you need help getting that off?” he says quietly, pointing at my dress. Almost like he hopes I can’t hear him. But I do. And my face instantly burns in embarrassment.

We both know if we don’t seal our binding, Mother will know in the morning. Not that we’ll having matching auras like Beck and I did. But I’m fairly sure she has our wristlets on extra monitoring.

Plus, she gave me express instructions to not fail in this area. And I’m sure she said something similar to Ryker at the reception.

Still, Beck told me Ryker wouldn’t touch me and I hope that’s true.

My back hurts from the weight of the old-fashioned, non-smart fabric dress. I need to take it off unless I’m planning to sleep in it, which would send a clear message that Ryker and I haven’t consummated our relationship. Unfortunately, I can’t do it alone.

I twist my hands into a knot and keep my eyes down. “Yes, please.”

He walks stiffly to me, and I turn my back to him. He mumbles something, and without touching me, the dress falls loose around my hips, exposing my undergarments. I quickly bend and scoop the dress to my chest.

Someone knocks.

“Enter,” Ryker says from the half of the room he’s retreated to. Thankfully, a maid whose name I’ve yet to learn peers in, not Annalise or Mother.

She hurries across the room and sets a covered tray on the coffee table before exiting.

Ryker lifts the lid and plucks a dish of bananas and cream from the tray. “It’s good. Why don’t you eat something?”

I feel odd walking around with my dress half-off.  “I’m going to change. Maybe when I come back.”

“Where are you going to change?” he asks.

My body sways slightly under the bulk of the dress. “In the bathroom.”

Ryker laughs. “Seriously? We’re supposed to spend every night for the rest of our lives together and you’re going to change
in the bathroom
?”