The Fiery Heart (28 page)

When I reached her, she took my hands and rested them on her bare hips. I was surprised to find myself trembling. Those long-lashed eyes, brown and amber and every shade of gold, met mine with a certainty that made me feel like the novice here.

“I'm wide awake now,” she added.

I had to swallow twice before I could find my voice. We were so close. There were only a few breaths between me and the glorious body that had haunted my dreams—dreams, which it turned out, were paltry things compared with reality.

“I don't deserve this,” I whispered. I lifted my hands so that I could cup her face. “Not after what I've done with my life.”

“I told you before: That chapter's done and gone,” she said. “We aren't the same people. We're always changing, always becoming better. What you did with the pills . . . well, it's not just about what they can do. It's about the courage it took to take that step. I always believed in you, but . . .”

“I made you cry,” I said. That memory would always be a wound in my heart.

“I cried because I loved you, and I didn't know how to fix you.” She reached up and brushed my lips with her fingertips. The world swayed around me. “And that was my mistake. You fixed yourself. You didn't need me.”

“No, Sydney.” My voice was ragged. “I do need you. You have no idea how much I need you.”

I brought my lips down to hers, and it was like everything that had ever happened to me had simply been a warm-up for this moment, that this was where my life truly began. I pulled her to me, and if she'd ever had any doubts about whether I wanted to taste her blood, I knew they vanished then and there. It was the taste of her mouth, the taste of her skin . . . those were what I craved, the things that drove me wild. Her hands caught the edge of my shirt, and we broke the kiss briefly so that she could pull it over my head. She splayed her fingers on my chest, and this time, she was the one who shook. I looked into her eyes, and although they burned with passion and longing and that primal need that had fueled both our races since the beginning of time, I could see nervousness in them too.

She had no experience with this, and that wasn't a situation she found herself in very often. It was up to me to lead this, but the thing was, I was inexperienced here too: I'd never been with a virgin. I'd never had that pressure on me before. It had been mindless with other girls, but I knew with Sydney, whether we were together forever or ended up parting ways, this would be the time she judged all others by.

But as I guided her to my belt and then laid her down on the bed, I knew which way our path would go. We
would
be together forever. We had to be. There was no way that all these feelings between us could ever dim or be defeated. Her breath came fast, and she tangled her hands in my hair as I kissed her neck and then began moving down to her chest. I could tell that she expected us to just jump right into it, into something fast and furious, but I'd waited too long to have full access to her body and wasn't about to take it for granted by rushing forward. And so I took my time, exploring all that beauty she didn't even know she had. It was agonizing for me but also sweet, and for the first time in my life, I was thinking more about the person I was with than myself.

When I brought my mouth back to hers, my body lying over hers, she clung to me with an urgency that held no more fear. And then it happened, what I'd dreamed of for so long. I lost myself in her arms, in her touch, in everything. Sonya often said she didn't believe in soul mates, but in that union, I believed there was something in my soul that spoke to Sydney's, that this connection between our bodies called to something greater than us, something preordained.

And when it was over, I was reluctant to let her go. I looked down at her face, with her flushed cheeks and damp strands of hair, and thought,
Whether it's simply some fierce animal joining of mates or a sublime merging of souls, she is mine, and I am hers.

We curled up on our sides, arms still tightly around each other, and there was so much emotion building inside me, I thought I would burst. I wanted to tell her a hundred times that I loved her, but when I looked in her eyes, I knew I didn't have to.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“That we should've been doing this a long time ago.”

I brushed my lips over her forehead. “No, this was the moment. The moment it was meant to be.” I knew how she felt about destiny and fate, and under other circumstances, she probably would've given me a lecture about free will. Instead, she trailed her fingers along my neck and smiled.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“About Rudyard Kipling.”

Her hand froze. “Are you serious?”

“What, you don't think I'm capable of poetry after sex?”

That made her laugh. “Adrian, I learned a long time ago that you're capable of anything. I just would've expected Keats or Shakespeare.”

“I like the book of poems you got me. They're short, and the crazier ones sort of speak to me.” I rolled to my back, throwing an arm over my head and gazing up at the gauzy canopy. “I was thinking about ‘The Female of the Species.'”

“Okay, I
really
didn't expect that.”

“It's not about cruel women, even though it sounds like it.”

“I know.” Of course she did.

“‘She knows, because She warns him, and Her instincts never fail, That the Female of Her Species is more deadly than the Male.'” I closed my eyes for a moment, adrift on love and exhaustion and bodily bliss. “We're suckers for this, Sydney. Men. You've got me completely helpless right now. You're so beautiful and alluring, and we guys can't help ourselves. We fight wars for you, cajole you . . . and you put up with us. We have it easy here in bed.”

She turned my face toward hers. “This wasn't exactly difficult for me.”

“But we still have it easy. You're the strength, the pillars . . . our defenders, our children's defenders.”

“You're selling yourself short,” she said. “You're just as strong. I wouldn't be with you otherwise. We're equals in this, in whatever comes.”

I didn't feel equal. I still had that dizzying sense that she was some goddess come to earth whom I wasn't worthy of. At the same time, I didn't want to depend solely on her strength or use it to hold my life together. I didn't want a mother—well, not for me. I wanted a partnership, a union just like we'd had, except spreading to every part of our lives. We would march forward, hand and hand, and I would spend the rest of my days making our love greater and greater.

“I'm messing this up,” I told her. “I should've stuck to Keats.”

“No, it's nice to know that pensive, metaphysical Adrian is still around.”

“He's hard to get rid of, even with pills.”

Her expression softened. “Is it terrible? Being cut off from spirit's high?”

“No, because being with you is a greater high than spirit, drinking, or anything else could ever conjure.”

Her eyes glistened, and she blinked rapidly to clear them. “You didn't mess it up—the Kipling. I know what you meant. And I hope you know I feel exactly the same way about you. I feel weak around you. But strong at the same time.”

I had no more doubts about being worthy. We were each other's strength but still possessed our own. I sighed and gathered her to me. “I don't think I'll ever be able to express enough how much I love you.”

“Well,” she said, with a heated look I knew well, “you can certainly try.”

So, I did, for a lot of the night. And as we'd often pointed out, she was a quick study.

I woke in the morning, happier than I'd been in a long time, and saw she was standing at the window in nothing but my T-shirt. It was so mind-blowingly sexy that all coherent thought stopped for a moment. Finally, I managed to drag myself up. I walked over to join her, standing behind her and wrapping my arms around her. She leaned into me.

“Look at it out there,” she breathed.

I only wanted to look at her, but I lifted my gaze to the window. Everything was covered in a thick blanket of snow. Fences, cars, anything else . . . it was all hidden. The tree branches were coated in ice. Pale winter sunlight shone down on it all, turning everything into a glittering array.

“It's unreal,” she said. “Like everything's been carved out of diamonds. It's hard to believe the world can ever go back to normal after this.”

I tightened my hold on her. “I know,” I said. “I know.”

I
T TOOK TWO DAYS FOR THE ROADS
to get cleared and for our transportation to be figured out. Both the Alchemists and the Moroi told us not to worry about the follow-up on the rental and that we'd just get a new one since we couldn't wait out the time for a body repair. I told them I wouldn't feel right about abandoning the original car, since it was my fault it was wrecked, so I managed to drag out our stay while the shop sorted out the many vehicles it had retrieved that night. We were invited back to Court, but I also fought against that, telling the Alchemists I felt better in a human-run inn. Naturally, they backed me.

Those two days were spent in a dream. Adrian and I might as well have been on our honeymoon. We saw Neil for breakfast, but he otherwise kept to himself in his room, leaving us to our own activities.

It wasn't
all
sex. Just mostly.

Adrian teased me that I was making up for lost time. Maybe I was, but I didn't think so because I honestly couldn't imagine having done it with anyone before him. There was nothing to make up for. I also couldn't imagine how one-night stands or any sort of emotionless sex worked. I knew people did it all the time, but it seemed like such a waste. With Adrian, every touch . . . every action between us . . . well, it was all enhanced by our love. How did people have sex without that? That was a question I had no interest in exploring.

Even when not having sex, we spent a lot of time in bed. I'd read or work on my laptop. He'd watch TV or sleep. He claimed I was exhausting, though he certainly never seemed to lack for energy during the act. As for me, I actually found sex invigorating. I was wired afterward. I felt like I could take on a hundred projects. I wanted to eat.

Reality finally called, however, and we had to return to our responsibilities in Palm Springs. Too many people needed us. Unlike that tension-filled flight to Pennsylvania, our trip home was filled with contentment. It was a six-hour afterglow. Adrian and I sat next to each other, burning with the bond between us, and even if we wanted to touch, we didn't need to.

When we stepped outside the Palm Springs airport, warm desert air hit us, confirming once and for all that our winter paradise was gone. And within hours, I found myself slipping back into my former role. I was no longer the storm-tossed heroine lost in her lover's arms. I was Sydney Sage, Alchemist and caretaker, and I was back in business.

Adrian had to go back to his place and find out what he'd missed at Carlton, leaving Neil and me to return to Amberwood. Neil was quiet in the taxi, and I was finally able to give him my full attention. During our snowy interlude, I'd been far too distracted by Adrian and had written off Neil's solitude as some personality quirk. Now, I could tell there was something troubling him.

“Everything okay?”

He dragged his gaze from the window. “Yeah, just thinking about a lot of stuff.”

“Olive?”

“Sometimes.” He started to smile, but it faltered. “Among other things.”

A panicked thought hit me. “Do you feel okay? You're not having any side effects?”

“No. I've just got a lot to think about.” This time he did smile. “Don't worry. You've already got plenty to keep you busy.”

For a moment, I wondered if he knew about Adrian. Was that why he was so pensive? He didn't know what to do about us? But no, that was my own selfishness. My romantic escapade with Adrian had been the biggest thing in my life back there, but Neil had barely known we were in the inn with him. He had his own concerns, and after everything he'd been through, I could understand.

The taxi stopped at his dorm first, and he started to get out of the car. “Sydney . . .” He hesitated. “I know you'll have to catch up on whatever's going on, but there is something I want to talk to you about alone if you get a chance. Doesn't have to be today. Just soon.”

“Sure,” I said. “We'll make it work.”

It wasn't until I was on my way to my dorm that I realized he might very well want to discuss how I'd created a blazing inferno in a blizzard. I'd known even then that it was foolish and dangerous, but those things had been trumped by the prospect of us freezing to death.

“Sydney!”

Zoe ran into my arms when I entered our room. For a moment, I worried something had gone wrong, but then I saw her face was radiant. “Things were great while you were gone! I mean, I missed you, but there were no problems. I made all the arrangements for Clarence's, and Eddie even let me drive. Like, not just in parking lots.”

I'd started to open my suitcase and let the lid fall back down. “He did what?”

“It was only on the back roads between the highway and Clarence's, so there was no problem.”

“Police can be anywhere,” I protested. “Accidents can happen anywhere.” Didn't I know it.

“Everything was fine,” she said. “He even said I did a really good job. That I was a pro.”

Maybe I should've been pleased she was getting friendly with a dhampir, but I couldn't. “I can't believe Eddie of all people would do that. It's irresponsible.”

She nodded. “He said you'd say that and that I should tell you, ‘At least it wasn't Angeline.'”

I couldn't help it. I laughed at that. “That's true. He does have limits.”

Seeing me relax perked her back up. “Speaking of Angeline . . . can you believe she'd never had praline ice cream? I showed them that place you and I went to, and it was so funny. We were all trying not to stare, but it was impossible not to when her eyes were so big. She had three bowls and probably would've gone for four if we didn't have to get back for curfew.”

I stared at Zoe's sparkling eyes in amazement, overjoyed to hear her talking about hanging out with Jill and the dhampirs like she would ordinary human friends.

“Sorry,” Zoe said, mistaking my silence. “I haven't even let you talk. How was everything? Anything big happen?”

Yes, most definitely.

“We're waiting to see how it goes,” I said, returning to unpacking. “They injected Olive's blood into Neil and have high hopes it'll protect him from becoming Strigoi.”

“That was very brave of him,” she admitted.

I looked up from a shirt. “Why, Zoe, I think you just said nice things about dhampirs twice in the last five minutes.”

“Don't get any ideas.” But she was smiling. “But . . . yeah, maybe they aren't that bad. I mean, they're not
us
, but they aren't so bad to be around. It actually makes things easier, not hating them.”

“It certainly does,” I agreed. A spot of hope blossomed in me. Living with Zoe and her harsh Alchemist attitudes had been agonizing this last month or so. But could I blame her? Hadn't I been the same? It had taken me a long time to come around . . . could she? Maybe in time, she'd get over trying to impress our dad and realize Moroi and dhampirs were just ordinary people. It was a heady thought, that we could actually be like sisters again and share the same rebel Alchemist philosophy. Maybe Marcus would eventually break her tattoo.

I kept those thoughts to myself, knowing I couldn't jump ahead of myself. But it was hard not to be hopeful later when we ate dinner with the others and I saw that she no longer looked like she wanted to jump up and run away. Everyone was in good spirits until Jill's eyes focused on something behind me, and she sighed heavily. I turned and saw two girls hanging a sign for the Valentine's Dance.

“I wish I could go,” she said mournfully.

“Me too,” said Angeline.

“Well, why don't you?” I asked.

Jill gave Neil a sidelong look. He was off in his own world. “There's no one to go with,” she said. Angeline nodded in agreement.

“I'm sure you can find someone.” I glanced at Zoe. “So could you.”

Her eyes widened. “What? A dance?”

“Sure. It's what the rest of the world does. You should try it.”

“Would
you
try it?” she asked. “Seems frivolous in our line of work.”

“I have tried it.” For a few seconds, I couldn't continue, as the memory of my one and only dance sucked me in. Adrian had shown up, drunk, and I'd ended up taking him back to his place, where we'd been caught in a blackout. “Sometimes frivolity isn't a bad thing.”

Eddie, who didn't seem put out about the dance, grinned. “Sydney, when we first met, I never would've thought those words could come out of your mouth. What happened to you?”

Everything,
I thought.

I met his grin with one of my own. “We all need some fun. We should forget that dance and go out and see a movie that night. When was the last time we all did that?”

“I think the answer is ‘never,'” said Jill.

“Well, there we go. We'll get tickets and bring Adrian along.” I gave Angeline a scrutinizing look she didn't notice. “Maybe some other people too.” I was feeling a little guilty about having promised Trey to keep Angeline away from Neil, seeing as Neil himself was taking care of that. I felt I owed Trey more for being my test subject, and maybe bringing him along on a group movie outing would help speed along his “figuring things out” process.

Life soon fell into its normal rhythm. I resumed my pattern of quick visits to Adrian after school, though the level of what we did now had definitely been kicked up. I missed those long, languid stretches of time from the inn, but we certainly made the most of what we had. I continued “making up for lost time” and even went so far as to start reading sex how-to books. I felt nerdy until the day I earned an impressed “Where did you learn
that,
Sage?”

The new developments with Adrian gave me even more motivation to protect us, meaning I went out of my way to pacify Zoe. We still didn't spend enough time together to make her happy, but I did other things she liked, like letting her drive the car once in a while. I also encouraged non-threatening activities with the rest of the gang and continued to watch as she grew more comfortable with them.

The only thing marring our relationship was the threat of our parents' divorce. Zoe continued to assume I was on our dad's side. Whatever uncertainty I'd possessed about the matter had vanished after that lunch/dinner with him. I intended to testify in favor of my mom, even though I knew that could have serious ramifications for the comfortable life I was carving out. The hearing was still a month away, and I did my best to keep reminding Zoe about how much our mom loved us and that she really wasn't a bad person. I even once suggested that if the court granted joint custody, Zoe might truly be able to split her time between our parents, rather than be one hundred percent committed to Alchemist work, as my mom had feared. Zoe had momentarily brightened at that idea and then shook her head. “Dad wouldn't like it,” she'd said. Her fear of him was too great.

One of the stranger things to happen to me was that I learned to use a tattooing apparatus. My triumph at returning with bona fide Alchemist ink had vanished when I realized I couldn't have Wolfe tattoo Trey with it. Not only would it blow our cover story about tattoo removal, it would also mean Wolfe would witness the activation of the charm. So I got Ms. Terwilliger to convince Wolfe to leave the machine at her place, in case we needed him again. In the meantime, I looked up the model and read everything I could about how to use it. When I told Trey the news, he wasn't thrilled.

“How am I scarier than a one-eyed man?” I demanded, when we met up at Ms. Terwilliger's place.

“At least he's been doing tattoos for years. How many have you done?”

“None,” I said. “But I bet I know more about it than he does.”

One thing I did feel bad about, though, was that, unlike the salt ink, the blood ink had color. It was going to leave a mark. Since my understanding was that the two tattoos had to be done pretty much on top of each other, I had to do this one on top of the one Wolfe had done—which was in turn over Trey's Warrior sun. My hope was that I could just trace the sun's lines, but I didn't know how skilled my hands would be.

“If I mess it up, I'll pay for you to get it redone,” I assured him.

That mollified him, but as he lay down on the workbench, I heard him grumble, “Remind me why I agreed to do this.”

“Because I'm keeping Angeline away from other people. Although . . . I don't suppose you want to, uh, go to a movie with her on Valentine's Day. With all of us, that is.”

He groaned. “I'm supposed to stay away from her.”

“Well, you don't have to sit by her. And it's not like you'll be alone.”

“I'll think about it,” he said reluctantly.

I didn't know if this movie plan would result in anything. I didn't have much practice at matchmaking, but Trey and Angeline obviously weren't having success getting over each other. And it occurred to me that if they started going out again, surely he'd have to break his ties to the Warriors. Wouldn't that be an accomplishment for the greater good? Or was I just complicating things?