Nightshade (22 page)

“More nonsense.” His frustration trickled out with the reply. “There are two lines set apart from the text at the very end of the book. The last line is the proverb and the other is ‘may the Scion bear the cross.’”

“May the Scion bear the cross. The cross is the anchor of life,” I murmured, then looked at Shay and saw comprehension dawning in his eyes even as a chilling wave poured down my spine.

“What does
Scion
mean, Shay?” I whispered.

His Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed. “It means ‘descendant.’”

“Descendant of whom?”
I was right, he
is
someone.

“It isn’t specific; it can be a descendant of anyone. Sometimes it’s used to mean ‘heir.’”

“Shay—” I reached for his shoulder, hoping to turn him. I was afraid to touch him, but I wanted to look at the tattoo again.

“No,” he said sharply. He pulled away from my hand, pacing toward the tall bookshelves that surrounded us.

I jumped up. “That has to be you. You bear the cross. It’s on your neck. You’re the Scion.”

“No, no, no.” He backed away as I approached him. “This is all—it’s some kind of trick. Or sick joke.” His face was drawn. He glared at me accusingly.

“I have a tattoo I can’t see. My uncle isn’t a person, but a witch. And now I’m some special descendant who is mentioned in a book that was transcribed hundreds of years before I was born? I don’t think so.”

When I realized he was about to bolt, I did the only thing I could imagine would stop him.

“Shay.” The razor-sharp edge in my voice locked him in place.

In that instant I leapt forward, shifting into a wolf in midair, and knocked him onto the floor. My forepaws dug into his chest, pinning him to the ground. I shifted back into human form.

“You may wish I was lying, but you’re looking at a girl who can turn into a wolf whenever she wants. Remember?” I brushed his cheek with my fingers, too aware of the way my body melted against him. I closed my eyes, taking in his scent, the heat of his body.

Shay reached up and wrapped his arms around my neck. One hand cupped the back of my head. He pulled me toward him. Before I could react, his lips were on mine.

The kiss started slowly, a sweet, tentative searching. The soft touch of his mouth mesmerized me. I parted my lips for him, letting desire draw me down.

Shay’s kiss deepened; his hand ran along my back, tracing the length of my braid, sliding beneath my shirt to stroke my skin. I felt like I was drinking sunlight. My fingers moved from his chest to his neck and stroked the line of his jaw. I pressed into him, wanting to know more of the mysteries he pulled so easily from my body. More of this freedom, this wildness.

Shay grasped my hips and in a swift motion turned us, pinning me to the floor. His hands moved beneath my shirt, his body pressing hard against mine. I could smell his rising desire mixing with my own, our feverish need infusing the air like lightning about to strike. Instead of being pulled down into him, I was rising up, legs wrapping around him. His fingers moved carefully, tracing my curves, lingering in places that stole my breath, binding me to him and yet setting me free. My own gasp of pleasure against his mouth brought the world hurtling back.

The room spun as I pulled out of his embrace, stumbling toward the table. My heart rammed against my ribs, insistent and painful.

I can’t do this, I can’t.
But I wanted to. More than anything
.

He scrambled to his feet, smiling at me. The warm light was in his eyes again.

“What’s wrong?”

I stomped angrily back to my chair without speaking, hating myself, my body still aching from when I’d wrenched free of Shay.

“Oh, right.” His smile flattened. “Kissing rules and your impending nuptials. When is that happening again?”

“Samhain.” My heart cramped when I thought about how close it was.

“So—what?” He tried to sound out the word. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

I crumpled a piece of paper and threw it at him. “For someone whose name most people would read as SEE-MUSS, that’s pretty pathetic.”

He picked up my notebook missile, tossing it in the nearest wastebasket. “Just because I have an Irish name doesn’t make me an expert in all old languages.”

“You’re pretty good at Latin,” I countered.

“Which is why I don’t have time to learn all the others,” he said.

“Fair enough,” I said. “Samhain. SOW-WHEN.”

“Okay, Samhain.” He pronounced it correctly. “Your wedding day. So when is it?”

“October thirty-first.”

“Halloween?” He scowled. “How romantic.”

“Halloween doesn’t matter. Samhain does.” I threw him a warning glare, which he ignored.

“And it’s a big deal because . . .” He waved his hand to mimic smoke rising in the air.

“The Keepers can renew their powers that night. The veil between the worlds is thinnest at Samhain.”

Shay’s hand dropped. “What worlds?”

“This one and the nether.”

“Sounds scary.” He grabbed a pen and jotted some notes, but I saw his fingers shaking. I wondered if it was from actual fear or if his body was still taut with frustrated desire like mine.

“It probably is,” I agreed. “Luckily the Guardians just patrol the perimeter. I’ve never had to see what they do.”

I suddenly felt queasy.

“Whoa.” Shay peered at me. “You’re all green. What’s up?”

I gripped the edge of the table, wishing the dizziness would subside. “I’ll have to see it this year.”

He leaned forward. “Why?”

“The ceremony is different this time.” My nails took a thin peel of varnish off the table. “Because they picked that night for the union, I’ll be there.”

“Do you know what it involves?” His own face had whitened.

“No,” I said. “The ritual of the union is a secret. I don’t know much about it at all.”

“Sucks for you,” he muttered. “Like everything else about this.”

“Stop it, Shay.” I tried to start reading again.

“I don’t see why you can’t bend the rules,” he pressed. “From what I’ve been told, Ren’s dated half of Vail.”

He looked at me as though expecting a shocked response.

“Everyone knows that. It doesn’t matter. That was his choice.” I kept my eyes on the table. “The rules are different for him.”

“So, what, boys will be boys and girls have to behave?” he scoffed.

“I’m the alpha female.” I hooked my ankles around the chair’s legs. “No one can touch me. It’s the Keepers’ Law.”

“But Ren can touch whoever he wants?” he asked. “’Cause it sounds like he does.”

“He’s an alpha male. The hunt is in his nature.” My ankle lock on the chair legs was so tight I heard the wood creak. I didn’t want Shay to ask the question I could see on his face.

He frowned. “But if you’re an alpha too, wouldn’t the hunt be part of your nature?”

I didn’t answer. My legs felt like they were on fire.

“And I touched you . . .” His fingers twitched, as if he wished he were touching me now.
Does he want me as much as I want him?

“I shouldn’t have let you.” My body went limp. “Can we talk about something else, please?”

“But it’s not fair—” He reached for my hand.

I leaned away from him. “Fair has nothing to do with it. It’s about tradition. Tradition is important to the Keepers.”

“But what about . . .” His words trailed off.

“The union is too close.” I slipped my hands under the table. “I’m not free. And for your information, Ren is not dating anyone else now either.”

“Is he dating
you
?” Shay slammed his laptop shut.

“It’s complicated.”
Actually, it’s simple. I belong to Ren, not you.

He dropped into his chair. “I can’t stand that guy. He acts like he owns you.”

“You don’t understand him.” I squirmed at the futility of the conversation. “And you will not kiss me again, Shay Doran.”

“I won’t promise that,” he said.

I turned away, hoping he wouldn’t notice the warm blush that had crept over my cheeks. I didn’t want his promise, but that choice wasn’t mine.
I have to stop this, now.

“Fine.” I tried to make my voice cold. “I’m sure you’d go through life ably enough with only one hand.”

He jerked his hands from the table. “You wouldn’t.”

I laughed. “You’ll just have to decide if you’re willing to risk it.”

He shuddered, muttering something unintelligible under his breath.

“I didn’t catch that.” Frustration snaked through my belly, making it tighten. I wanted him to touch me again, and I was furious with myself for it and with him for making me feel like this.

“Just nice to know I’m falling for a vestal virgin,” he said, anger clouding his own face.

“A what?”

“Fun history trivia.” His smile was cold enough to make me bristle. “Another set of highly desirable but untouchable girls. If they broke their vow of chastity, they were buried alive.”

“Buried alive?” I shuddered
. Is that what would happen to me if the Keepers found out about Shay?
I knew there would be consequences if anyone but Ren touched me, but I hadn’t thought about how bad they might be.

“And the lucky guy who’d tempted a sacred virgin from her duty was flogged to death in public,” he finished.

I suddenly felt hollow inside. My own punishment might be frightening, but the thought of what could happen to Shay was much, much worse.

“I guess we should take our lessons from history, then,” I murmured, trying to hide the trembling in my voice.

“We aren’t living in ancient Rome,” Shay snapped.

“Since that subject is closed,” I said, ignoring his livid expression, “let’s please get back to what’s important.”

He stared at me.

“Please,” I murmured.

“Okay,” he said, opening his laptop again. “So if we accept the idea that I’m this Scion, what does that mean?”

“I’d imagine somehow it matters who you are descended from,” I mused.

He nodded and shrugged. “No one famous.”

“You don’t remember your parents?”

“No. They died in a car crash when I was two. I don’t remember them at all, not even what they looked like.” He pulled the Keeper’s text into his lap, fingers tracing an outline of the cross. “I don’t have any pictures. Uncle Bosque always said it was best to leave the past in the past.”

I frowned. “You don’t have anything of your parents? Nothing to remember them by?”

“Just a blanket my mother knitted for me.” He offered me a sheepish smile. “I carried it around when I was a kid.”

I toyed with the end of my braid, trying not to laugh. “What were their names?”

“Tristan and Sarah Doran.”

I jerked so forcefully in my chair that it almost tipped over.
Oh God, those names. No, no, no.

His head snapped up. “What is it?”

“Tristan and Sarah?” I repeated, fresh horror nestling in my belly.

“Yes. Calla, what’s wrong?” he said. “More bad news?”

“I don’t know what it means. Please keep that in mind. But the night we were attacked outside Eden . . .” The face of the captive Searcher loomed large in my mind. “The Searcher who we took alive.” I wanted to erase the sickened hue of Shay’s skin. “He spoke their names, Tristan and Sarah.”

“One of the men who jumped us knew my parents?” The veins in his neck throbbed.

“I’m not sure.” I was trying to be truthful, but every word I spoke seemed like a stray thread that could unravel my life.

“What exactly did he say?” Shay leaned forward, watching me intently.

“He asked where you were . . .” I said, pausing to dig up the memory. “And then he said: ‘He doesn’t know, does he? Who he is? That you took Tristan and Sarah? What you’re going to do?’”

Shay gripped the arms of his chair. “I thought the Searchers were trying to destroy the world. Aren’t they the bad guys?”

I nodded, not having any explanations to offer.

He rose, shutting his laptop and picking up his backpack. “I’m sorry, but I need to leave. There’s too much . . .” He shook his head. “I need some time alone. But I’ll be back here tomorrow.”

I stayed still as he moved past me, wanting to go with him.

“And Calla.” He bent down for a moment, whispering into my hair. “I don’t think I’m the only one who’s being lied to.”

SHAY WASN’T IN FIRST PERIOD. A WAVE OF
nausea swept over me.

Could the Keepers have done something to him?

I gnawed on my fingernails through my next two classes. When I walked into Organic Chemistry and saw him already seated at his lab station, I had to fight the urge to run across the room to embrace him. His two human lab partners caught sight of me and shrank to the other end of the station. Shay observed their swift retreat from the corner of his eye.