The Four Horsemen (The Light Series) (19 page)

I
can’t fight the smile. Seeing him angry is funny. I’m not even sure why that
is.

Stella
gives me a hard stare, “Where were you?”

“The
fae castle. I have to get the witches and ask them to bring back the fae.”

Stella
gives her brother a look. He shakes his head, “That seems like a bad idea. Why
not leave them where they are? They can’t hurt anything or anyone there.”

“They
are a pile of flowers. I won’t leave them that way. The white-eyed man who
turned into the white stag asked me to do it. I’m doing it. So far, he’s the
only person who has just been honest with me from the get go, besides Mona.”

Constantine’s
eye twitches, “Your cheap shots are still more venomous than a snake bite.”

Stella
pauses, “Did you talk to the man who turned into the white stag?”

I
nod.

Her
jaw drops and Michelle’s head snaps around to me, “Oh snap. Seriously? The
white-stag guy talked to you?”

I
frown, “Yeah? He’s been talking to me since I arrived in the garden. Why?”

Michelle
looks giddy. She gives Stella a look, “That means you are the true leader of
the world, and you will birth the child who will save us. You’re like
modern-day Mary.” Constantine coughs and Michelle laughs, “Minus the whole
virgin thingy, clearly.”

I
cock an eyebrow, “What?”

Stella
nods, “The white stag will show himself to the woman who will save the world. She
will give birth to the child who will unite the masses.”

Michelle
nods, “That’s like Jesus, dude.”

I
sigh, “Can we focus on the important stuff like saving the fae and killing the
antichrist? I
wanna
sleep
for real one day. I
wanna
sleep when I’m tired, not just when the dead take me. I have a feeling killing
the antichrist means I get to chose my form and sleep regularly.”

Constantine
sighs, “So back to Boston then?”

I
glare, “No witches in London?”

He
laughs, “No. Remember the European witch trials? We ran them out. They fled for
the New World.”

“Great.
Just great.” I stomp down the hall to Mona’s room. She is wrapped in blankets
and Gill is sleeping on the bed next to her.

She
smiles, and I can see her period must have ended. Her virginity is gone. She is
beaming and glowing. She smiles, “Hi.” She puts her hands on her face, “Is it
that obvious?”

I
laugh, “Yeah.”

She
looks down, “He is so amazing.”

“He
probably would say the same thing about you. Anyway, the reason I came here is
I am going to ask the witches to bring back his people. Did the witches who
brought him back do anything special?”

She
nods, “Yeah, they were dressed all fancy, like old Victorian clothes. They did
a circle of thirteen, and I couldn’t see in the circle, but when they were
done, he and Constantine were back.”

“Earth
witches, interesting.”

She
shrugs, “I guess. So you think that’s a good idea? Bringing them all back?”

“Yeah.
My dad killed them all. I owe them.”

She
gives me a look, “You want me to come?”

I
want to nod. I want to ask her to come, but I don’t. She is in love and
married, and she deserves happiness. She is the last living thing I love that
could die. I would keep her locked away in a tower if I could. “That’s okay. It
won’t be fun. Cold trip across the puddle with the nixie.”

She
wrinkles her nose at me, “Maybe shower first. You look nasty homeless.”

I
laugh, “Okay.”

She
looks around, “So Maria says there is a place under the stables where
Constantine and Stella have been making vampires.”

I
scowl, “Why would she tell you that?”

She
smiles and nods at sleeping beauty.
Gill is stunning
,
there is no doubt
. “She has a huge crush on someone. Anyway,
they’re making a LOT of vampires. It’s like an army. It’s me and Michelle
aren’t allowed outside.”

I
sigh, “I’m putting it on the back burner, but we have to deal with that when I
get back from saving the fae.”

“Be
safe and hurry.” She blows me a kiss and I nod. I turn and walk to my room. I
look at myself in the mirror, and I don’t know that girl at all anymore. She is
filthy and exhausted and thin, rail thin. She is tired and weak. She is not
me
. She is the one who has to save everything and everyone,
and she is going to fail. I can see it in her grey eyes.

I
pull my shirt off, shocked by the tattoo that has appeared on my right breast,
over my heart.

I
look down at
it,
it is a single heart with an arrow’s
head inside of it. The lines of the heart are red and the arrowhead is green.

“The
mark of the warrior.”

I
look up, instantly covering my breasts.

Wyatt
smirks, “Pretty sure you don’t need to cover them.”

I
scowl, “I’m sorry she died, but it wasn’t my fault. I’m done taking the blame
for him. I never made him and I never knew him, not that well. I will take the
responsibility for the people I have killed. I know there are many, but I
didn’t kill your mother or Sarah.”

He
nods, “I know. I’m sorry for what I said.”

He
pulls his shirt off too.
 
I stare at
the new tattoo on his chest, “What’s that?”

He
shrugs, “I don’t know.”

It
is a white feather over his heart.

I
reach for it, running my fingers down it, “Who is marking us?”

He
tilts my chin, “I think we are.” His eyes roam my filthy face, “Let’s take a
shower. It’s your turn to get soapy.”

I
smile, “Okay.” I can’t fight the empathetic look on my face, “I am sorry for
your losses.”

He
shakes his head, “They’ve been the same as your losses.
That’s
what we do
,
we lose
. We lose people and love
and faith.”

I
pull him into the huge walk-in shower, “No, we don’t. We can’t lose people we
can always remember. You can’t take a memory or a feeling away. We can’t lose
faith, because that is what is keeping us alive. We can’t lose love, because
once you have it,
it’s
there for life. It can change
shape but it’s always there.”

I
turn on the water and stand under it.

He
passes me the soap, “You are a mess.”

I
nod at him, “Let me see your back.”

He
turns and I gag. His skin has healed but the scars spell something. I drop the
soap.

He
looks back, “What?”

I
reach for it, tracing the letters, “R-A-Y-N-E.”

“What?”

“Your
scars spell my name.”

He
looks at me, “Seriously?”

I
nod.

“Wow,
he’s a sick bastard.” He smiles at me, “At least it doesn’t say anything else.”

I
shake my head, “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

He
turns, “It will fade. It’s just taking longer, because he put his blood on the
whip before he hit me with it. Lucifer’s blood was toxic.”

“You
remember?”

He
nods, “I do. He tortured me in a cell and gave me to the priest. Said I had the
devil in me and needed to be held on hollowed ground. The devil would die
inside of my body, never able to leave the safety of my skin and touch the
hollowed ground with
his own
feet. The priests took my
through a tunnel; it was underground. I was bleeding everywhere. They tied me
up and left me there to die.”

I
wrap my soapy arms around him, “I am so sorry.”

He
shakes his head, “Baby, it’s not your fault.” He looks down on
me,
I can see the intensity in his eyes. I can taste his
desire in the air.

Something
happens, a switch is hit or turned. But something changes there in the water
and the steam, and maybe it’s the realization that we have made it part of the
way and are both still standing. I am grateful for him. Even with the aches and
pains of my own body, I find strength enough to want him.

His
face lowers to mine, hovering above me so close that I can see it, his want and
desire and love. He moves the last inch, delicately brushing his wet lips
against mine. The warmth of his tongue moving in my parted lips makes me moan
into him. The speed of the kiss doesn’t pick up; it stays soft like he is
paying homage to me. He drops to his knees, kissing my chest and pulling me
into his lap. I wrap around him, as his hands roam my back, massaging with the
hot water.

“I
want you, Rayne.”

I
kiss his neck and his cheek, bushing my face against the stubble on his. It
scratches and tickles, making me smile. I love the things I can feel. I don’t
have all the love, heartbreak, joy, and all the pain, because I share them five
ways. But I have all of his face rubbing against mine. I have all of his hands
brushing my body. I have all of the hot water mixing with our kiss.

And
it is enough. I moan
,
closing my eyes and tilting my
head back as my body arches into his massaging hands.

When
I look at him again, I can feel the desire in my stare. I run my hands down his
soaked, strong body. I touch each muscle and tattoo. I nod, slowly as my body
grinds against his, “I want you too.”

The
water blurred the lines of our bodies as we made love. I made love. For the
first time in my human life, I felt my love grow inside of me with the waves of
emotion and pleasure.

It
becomes more than enough.

I
can feel the separation of my love from theirs. I think, in some way, I can
feel them love him too, through me.

As
my hand slides down the shower stall, desperate to cling to the tiles, to cling
to anything that isn’t moving in the dizzying spin I am in with him, I can feel
his love for me.

When
it’s over, I don’t want it to be, and yet, all I want is to have him hold me so
tightly it will feel like we are one.
We stand under the
shower
,
I think both in shock
. I know I am.

He
looks down on me, “Are you okay?”

I
nod, “Yeah.”

His
cheeks are red and his eyes are clearer than normal, more alive. He looks the
way he did standing on the path at school, waiting for me, like I was a forgone
conclusion for his bed the moment we met.

I
feel the blush and the smile creeping across my face. I was. Who am I kidding?
The moment I saw him and used my best Willow feminist lines on him, I was his.

I
knew
it,
I just didn’t want to admit it.

He
cups my face and I feel like a piece of china. The way he touches me is unlike
any touch I have ever had. It is soft and sweet, yet worshipping and intense.
His fingers gripped deep into my thighs as his lips planted the softest kisses
along my neck.

I
can still feel the motion of our lovemaking and the heavy breath on my cheek.

He
smiles again, “I know what you mean.”

I
frown, “I never said anything.”

“You
don’t have to, I know what you mean.” He kisses my lips again, “I didn’t know
it could ever be like that.”

The
smile on my face is goofy, and I am afraid I will never be rid of it. I smile
harder, “We’re officially married.”

He
returns my
smile,
“We always were to me, in my heart.
Even when you weren’t sure if it was
him or me,
I was.
Even if you never picked me, it would have always been you for me.”

I
wince, “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

He
shakes his head, “I suspect the story of when we were kids is true. I suspect
this has taken a lot longer than either of us even knows.”

I
look deep into the crystal-blue of his eyes, “I forgive you, and I hope you can
forgive me.
For all of it.
All the bad.”

He
nods, “There is nothing to forgive.” He kisses the tip of my wet nose, “Thank
you for forgiving me.”

I
shake my head. We change and walk down the hall to the living room. He grips my
hand, like he’s making a statement. The drafty hall is colder, I swear. But I
think it is the warm glow that I am leaving behind in our room.

Everyone
is in the living room, reading and talking quietly. Gill sees us first. He
smiles wide. I think he knows. Mona looks at our hands and smiles too. I feel
awkward. I try to pull my hand away, but he holds it tight. I can see the set
in Constantine’s jaw even though he doesn’t look up. He just knows what has
happened. He has lost me, and I hate hurting him, but I have chosen my heart’s
love and I think he knows that.

Stella
gives me a heartbroken look but Michelle winks at me. “So what’s the plan?” she
asks.