Stay (5 page)

“Yes.”

His eyes
flicked up suddenly and roamed my face then, lingered on the curl of my tresses resting along my back and trailing over the magic bed. His brown skin burned a deeper shade of rust. After taking in another breath he shut his eyes and began, “Yes, you agree or yes, you’re just saying that because you don’t know much English?”

“I know English,”
I said, though my accent certainly made his question valid.

His knowing eyes met mine and a grin tugged at the scar on his cheek. “Okay
, that answers that question. So you’re not running from the law. What were you doing at the club last night then?” He stared at the strange braids that tied my hair out of my face and the tattoos on my neck.

“I have a job to do, but I am afraid I
have already failed,” I replied.

His eyes narrowed on the neatly folded dress I had set on the nearby table. “You sure ain’t packing much for that kind of work…” Turning his attention back to me he shifted onto his left foot. “So what
do
you do for a living?”

“I live to fulfill his
wishes.” The words stuck to the roof of my mouth, were poison on my tongue. Even though I loved Seid still, my loathing was just as great now as it had been then.

“Crap, are you in some kind of troub
le? Did you run out on your boss… or…” He glared at the hardwood floor, as though blaming it for his poor articulation. His arms fell to his sides, fists clenched when he lifted his eyes again. Yet when he opened his mouth to speak, the words faded, and his hard mask shifted. Finally he said, “You can stay here long as you need to. I’ve been through some tough times myself.” Shrugging his shoulders indifferently, he lifted a hand to point to the scar on his face.

He’s letting me stay?

I had never needed a place to stay before, never needed shelter from the cold or slept through a night for that matter.
All of these things were new to me. And this small kindness from a troubled man whom I had already failed, who wore
his
face, pierced me more than I could express.

His smile fell when I unraveled my legs over the edge of the bed and stood. His chest stilled
as I came to him. Keeping my eyes locked to his, I took his fist in my hands and spread the fingers open and pressed his palm over my heartbeat. With my free hand I reached up to cover his. My clan only used this gesture in the most intimate of settings, between family members and—lovers.

His touch
burned against my skin. Within the center of his black pupils, I saw my reflection, how the curse lit my eyes with shades of the dawn. For one infinitesimal moment our hearts raced in time and then slowed as one.

Pain flashed through his
face and made him wince as he tore his gaze from mine, pulled his touch away. Mumbling some excuse under his breath, he fled to his room after.

A
s I sank back onto the magical bed I listened to the sound of the water pounding over his bare skin.

Tweaking the curtain’s layer aside, I watched the storm blanket the outside world in a snow so fine it floated like flour. Here I could almost feel the cold again, rattling against the glass and crawling across it in icy patterns.

Cain had yet to emerge and as I waited and watched the storm ensue,
I was ever more convinced of the solidity of my curse. What better punishment could
he
have given me, really? To be forced to remain inside this enclosed space with a man who wore his face? Cain could never know what torture this was for me.

He should never h
ave seen you in the first place.

Taking my lower lip between my teeth
to bite back the sudden chill, I wrapped my arms about my chest. It was still too cold.
I
was cold and determined to find the cure for my current weakness. If Cain did not look the mirror image of Seid then I wouldn’t be so distracted, off balance. How much easier it was to forget humanity but how much simpler the job? I could be rid of Cain and the terrible reminders of my past he wore like a mask.

Behind
me the radio crackled into life and I listened to its low electric hum. Without turning I knew he was there, turning the old knobs and adjusting the volume. Buzzing gave way to a monotone voice on the radio, spouting off facts about the weather that I could have already told Cain.

Touching
my chin to my shoulder, I watched him lean forward in concentration. Water matted his black hair into spikes and peppered his skin with a fresh sheen. If I shut my eyes I could still see the one who bound me, his smile bright as the white sun as he emerged from our latest dip in the sea. I fought the sudden urge to bury my face in his chest and run my fingers through that hair.

He is not Seid.

As if he could sense the shift in my mood, Cain’s muscles stiffened and he lifted his head to observe me in turn. For a moment I thought I saw a smile touch his lips and my heart fell with his frown.

“Are you cold?”
he asked. Without waiting for my answer, he sighed. “Who am I kidding? You’re thin as a toothpick. Of course you’re cold. Hang on a sec.” Reaching into a box stuffed in the corner, he sifted through a pile of blankets.

“Have you lived here long?”
I asked and took in the rooms. No pictures or paintings adorned the walls and so little furniture decorated his home, I doubted it.

“A few years,”
he dryly replied. He leaned forward, cradling what looked to be a handmade woolen shawl in his hands. He glanced up, fixing me with a troubled eye before wrapping it over my shoulders.

In my human life I had never needed warmth, save on the rare cool night
s by the sea. Almost immediately I could feel the wooly warmth cling to my skin and looked up to thank him. But he had already stood and moved to stand by the window. So I marveled, to myself as much as Cain, “It is so warm.”

“Well
, my mom would be glad someone’s using it.”

“Where does your mother live?” I
always wondered why humans did not live together any longer than necessary. Our home had lodged not only my father’s but my mother’s parents, until their deaths. Silence was something I only found away from the village, by the sea.

Cain twisted his lean torso to face me and shook his head. T
he creases in his brow smoothed as a slow grin began to tug at his cheek. “You sure are a strange one.”

“You think I am crazy?” I didn’t see the humor in my question, but then again I was
not accustomed to modern humor. And Cain’s laughter did not feel at my expense. It sounded rough, out of casual use and surprisingly pleasant to my ears.

“Maybe you are,” he mused. “
It’s just that no one I’ve ever met comes right out asking these kinds of questions. And I’m kind of ashamed to admit this, but it feels weird, telling you about my mother, when I don’t even know your name.”

“Orona,
” I offered and my lips curled up into an involuntary smile. The warmth I felt trapped underneath his mother’s artistry seemed to be thawing my cold heart. I might have had the strength to fight it, if his eyes weren’t a blending of colors from the emerald sea. Or if, when he smiled fully at me for the first time, it wasn’t like coming home.

“Orona…” Cain inclined his head to me. “W
hat would you like to do today?”

I turned to survey his home an
d stared at the magical bed he had made for me. I pointed with my arm, palm open and extended. “How do you work the magic for that?”

Cain lifted
his chin and shoved his thumbs into his sweats pockets. He bit down on his lips after a moment and rocked back on his heels. “Oh, that’s way too hard for a beginner. Afraid I’ll have to do the honors.”

“No, please!
” I caught his arm before he could reach for the end of the extendable bed. He froze, gaze fixed on my touch, smile fading. And I pushed aside the strange fluttering in my abdomen to add, “I want to learn.” I removed my hand from his arm and clenched my fingers in a vain attempt to stop the tingling.

After s
haking out of his momentary trance, he offered me instructions. My strength surprised him. We laughed when I leapt forward in my excitement and nearly fell onto the inner wire frame. His arm snaked out to catch me about my waist. He tilted me back against his chest and I hung limp in his arms from embarrassment.

With the intoxicating scent of his wash hovering over me, I braced my hands on his bare arm and slowly
straightened into his embrace. A wise immortal would have pulled away from his touch and made him forget ever seeing her. She would go to Lissa and do all in her power to bring the two star-crossed lovers together. She would learn their stories and hopefully help them make a happy ending.

“Come on,
” he said huskily against my ear, interrupting my thoughts.

I savored the feeling of being held and determined never to forget it. Did I imagine the way his breath shuddered against my hair?

“Not everybody gets it right the first try,” he added in a mock serious tone but the vibrations in his chest betrayed him.

I w
hirled around in his embrace, pumped his chest with my fists and narrowed my eyes. “You are making fun!”

He shook his head in denial
and almost managed to hide the spark in his eyes before catching my bare fist in his hand. “Nope,” he said, “not me.”

The human
voice trapped in the stereo finished his long-winded report. Only then did I notice the slow music that replaced him. The breathy vocals and soft horns reminded me of the club where Cain had first seen me. And it struck me as odd that this young human should favor something from an era gone by.

Threading my fingers through his, I swayed until he followed my time. Long ago
my people danced to the beat of drums and dulcimer, about poles and great pits filled with fire, by the sea that provided for us. I loved to dance. And once I heard the drums beat behind the music, I could remember those same steps again.

Cain watched me with amusement at first, as I stepped away from his embrace,
pressing our flat, connected palms into the air. My heart thudded in time with the pulse beating in his neck. I coupled our hands slowly and then spun quickly in a circle that lifted my long hair and left me breathless. His mother’s shawl fell from my shoulders like a cloak. I released my hold of his hands to lift its fringed edges with my hands and tilted my hips. If I shut my eyes, I could almost hear that ancient drum. I could nearly see my father’s and sisters’ smiles in the fading firelight.

Cain’s voice brought me back.
“Orona?” he whispered. His hands were clenched at my waist to hold me in place. After taking in a shaky breath he said, “I have no clue where you learned to dance like that. And any other time I wouldn’t have stopped you. But for my sanity, could you please not do it in my mother’s shawl?” He smirked and alleviated the heaviness that turned his bright blue eyes a rich shade of indigo.

I
tilted my chin up to better meet him, then gasped to find his lips in my line of sight. The temptation rendered my voice feeble and frail. “Sorry. It was the harvest dance in my homeland.” I was relieved he tucked his chin further down and stole my temptation away.

“The new tides brought in a better
catch,” I said, rambling on. “After the meal, we danced until the sun stole back the sky from the moon.” Rather than appeasing him, I saw how my words upset him. His face looked pained and I could not bear it. “I am sorry,” I said. “Have I upset you?”

He shook his head and through clenched teeth said,
“No. It’s just you sound so much like
them
, sometimes… just different.”

I
watched as the shadow of his darker memories took shape. Flashes of shadow-drenched faces flickered past my inner eye sporadically, through our connection. I could see a dark-skinned man and a woman with waist-length, straight black hair. I could smell hints of the sea and hear the distant cry of seagulls. And I saw a hairless child with bright and shining amber eyes. I wondered who
they
were. But not wishing to cause him more pain, I let the question rest.

“You must teach me more magic,
” I said, offering a change in subject and distraction from the tension between us. With his answering smile I knew we had come to some sort of truce.

“You ever play cards?”

-kate

Chapter 5

Poker Face

Over the passing of morning to night I kept one truth in mind. My mission was to solidify the weak link between Cain and Lissa. And to do this I needed to ignore these new waves of feeling he elicited in me.

In the beginning it seemed
simple enough, spending time with the human who wore
his
face. The cards reminded me of an older game we played with stones when I was a child.