Page 48

Running Out of Time

I t’s been ten days since Zayne left, and Khaos hasn’t kissed me again.

I don’t know how I feel about that.

Wait. That’s a goddamn lie. I feel confused and sad and hurt and lonely and… just a little bit stupid. Everyone has warned me about Khaosti: Zayne, Hecate, even Thanouq.

Who would have thought a kiss could stir up so many emotions?

But he’s changed toward me. I find him watching me openly now, and he touches me often, even when we’re not training. And I know—though I’m guessing Khaosti doesn’t—that one day it will happen between us. I’m strangely content to wait and let things fall into place. It’s like a time-out.

Since Zayne left, we’ve been training every day, and I’m getting better. Khaosti was right: I’ll never be able to beat him in an outright fight. He’s too big and so much stronger than me. But he’s been teaching me some moves, and my body remembers. One day, he had Erik, the boy who helps out at Hecate’s house, come and join us. He’s more my size, and I beat him easily.

My sword fighting is getting better as well, and I’m fitter than I’ve ever been. I can easily scale the cliff face now.

I miss Zayne, but I’m sort of happy. Happier than I ever remember being.

But—and it’s a huge but—my memory has shown no sign of returning. Nothing. Not a flicker since that moment in the temple. I often think about going back, but something has kept me away.

The frustration is driving me crazy.

Hecate says not to let it worry me. We have time. Just relax, and it will come.

I’m not sure I believe her. Maybe it’s gone forever.

We’re sitting down to dinner—the six of us—when there’s a commotion outside. Hecate gets to her feet and hurries to the door. She comes back with a man in tow. He’s the same guide who took Zayne away ten days ago.

“This is Stefan,” Hecate says. “Sit down, Stefan, before you fall down.”

I notice now that he’s wounded. His face is pale, his lips almost blue. His right hand is pressed against his side, and his shirt is stained dark with blood. His eyes are shadowed as he sinks into the chair opposite me.

He turns his attention to Khaosti. “I went to the house as you asked. It’s gone. Burned to the ground. I found one body among the ashes.”

“Fuck,” Khaosti mutters.

“Is it Brown?” I ask. “Is he dead?”

“I presume so. Damn. I should have sent him home. I knew there was a good chance they’d trace you there. For some reason, they can hone in on you. Likely they’ve been searching and found traces of your passing.”

My mind is numb. I’ve never known anyone who died before. I didn’t know Brown well, but he’d seemed a nice man. He certainly didn’t deserve to die at the hands of those things. “You think it was the shadowguard?” I ask.

“Of course. Though they must have come in force. Brown would have fought to defend the house.”

“Who was he? Is he related to the Brown on Earth?”

“Not related, though they were both guardians. When the guardians get too old for active duty, they’re given other positions. Often, they look after the safe houses on different worlds.”

“They get the honor of serving the Astrali,” Hecate murmurs. “They’re warriors, and you reduce them to mere servants, waiting on you hand and foot.”

“At least they are serving a useful purpose.” Khaosti sounds defensive.

“Of course, they are,” she replies sweetly.

Hecate doesn’t look much older than Khaosti now—perhaps more mature. Her hair is dark red with no hint of gray. Her face is unlined.

She turns back to Stefan. “How were you wounded?”

“When I discovered the fate of the house, I headed back here to report. There are groups of shadowguard wandering the countryside, killing everything they come across and burning the land. They are searching. I found other homesteads razed to the ground, their occupants slaughtered. I was ambushed just as I was heading into the mountains. I managed to fight them off, but I was stabbed in the stomach and…” He hesitates and then raises his head, and I can see the savage bite marks on his throat. He’s been bitten—does that mean he’ll turn into a shifter like Zayne or…?

Hecate lets out a hiss. “I’m sorry, Stefan.”

He shrugs. “I knew the dangers.”

“I will get you something for the pain.” Hecate turns her attention to me. “There’s a good chance that they know you’re here somewhere.”

A sense of horror wells up inside me. Brown died because of me. Stefan might be dying. All those other people. Innocent. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And the worst thing is—I don’t know why.

“The wards will hide you for a while,” she says, “but the shadowguard are growing in strength. We’re running out of time.”

Those people died for me, and I can’t even do something as simple as remember who I am. Or why I’m so important. I’m useless. Maybe it would have been better if I’d died the first night the shadowguard found me. Except I don’t think the plan was to kill me. Not straight away, anyway.

I get to my feet and push back my chair, so it topples over behind me. I need to be alone to think this through.

“This isn’t because of you, Amber,” Hecate says. “What is happening was set in motion long before your birth. You can’t blame yourself.”

Maybe not. But there must be something I can do. Maybe if I was just gone, then they would stop looking and killing. But I’m not that self-sacrificing. I’m not strong enough to kill myself. Besides, according to Hecate, I have an important role to play.

I swallow and turn to run. I can feel Khaosti’s gaze on me as I go.

Once in my room, I throw myself on the bed.

Why can’t I remember?

I’m not sure what will happen after that. But something.

Earlier, I thought I was happy. But that was just an illusion. All it took to shatter that happiness was a glimpse of the outside world. It seems ignorance really is bliss.

The door clicks.

“Go away,” I mutter.

“Not happening,” Khaosti replies.

I roll over and stare up at him. He’s standing over the bed, hands shoved in his pockets, watching me. Light from the moon spills in through the window, highlighting the harsh planes of his face, the silver at his lip, and the savage slash of his brows.

“Why are you still here?” I ask, sitting up and wrapping my arms around my knees. “I don’t mean here in my room. I mean, why haven’t you gone home? Don’t you have royal things to do? Armies to order about?” He doesn’t say anything, and something drives me on. “You’ve done what your brother asked. You’ve brought me here safely, handed me over to a new keeper. You don’t owe me anything. So why don’t you just go?”

He blows out his breath. “I don’t know. I’ve thought about it. Often. My father will be very displeased.”

“No doubt. And you mustn’t upset daddy. The god.”

He gives a brief, unamused smile. “But every time I think about leaving, I find a reason to stay.”

“What reason?”

“Maybe just to kiss you again?”

That reminds me that he hasn’t kissed me again. He hasn’t even tried to kiss me again. Was I so terrible? And how can I even think about kissing at a time like this? I’m a horrible person.

“I’m sorry about Brown,” I say.

“Me too. He was a good man. I’d known him all my life.”

“How come he and the other Brown have the same name if they’re not related?”

He looks a little uncomfortable. “All the guardians who take control of the safe houses are called Brown.”

“Let me get this straight. You make them change their name to Brown?”

“It’s tradition.”

“It’s crazy, that’s what it is! What if they don’t want to be called Brown? What if they don’t want to serve you privileged assholes?”

He winces at that, then shifts his feet and frowns. “They don’t have a choice. If they refuse, they are… eliminated.”

I roll that through my mind. “You mean killed? Executed?”

“It very rarely comes to that.”

I can’t believe what he’s telling me. “That’s horrendous. Barbaric. And you wonder why Khendril left.” He winces again at that, but I go on. “I thought you lot were supposed to be the good guys?”

He shrugs. “Good. Bad. There’s some of both in all of us. We keep the worlds safe.”

“Really. Has it been safe for Winter? Or Brown? Or all those homesteaders Stefan said were killed?”

“Mostly safe then.” He sighs and scrubs a hand through his hair, tugging on the ring in his ear, frustration in every line of his body. “There are many things I don’t agree with, but my father likes to keep the old ways. When you’ve lived that long, individual lives lose their importance. Most are just a brief flicker.”

“And he’s immortal, so he’s not going to die and let you have a go at being king anytime soon. Always a prince and never a king. Must be hard.” His father sounds like a total asshole. Maybe I am better off not knowing about my family, like Zayne always said.

“I don’t want to be king,” Khaosti says. “It’s too much responsibility. But I would like to change some things, and the way guardians are treated is one of them. My brother was a traitor. He betrayed his vows, but I think I understand why now. Unfortunately, as far as the guardians are concerned, my father won’t hear of change. I think he fears their powers, believes they need to be carefully controlled, and any sign of discontent should be ruthlessly dealt with.” Suddenly he looks weary, his shoulders slumping. “The world isn’t always the place we want it to be,” he says. “We all make the best of what we are given.”

I sit up straighter. “If you think there needs to be change, you should fight harder for it.”

“Maybe I will. Maybe I already am.” He studies me closely, his gaze raking over me from top to bottom. I resist the urge to squirm. “Why are you so important? I wish I knew.”

I give an inelegant snort. “You and me both.”

“But this time here has made me see things more clearly,” he says. “I find myself increasingly unwilling to toe the line. I want more. There’s something huge happening in the world right now; legends are coming to life before my very eyes, and the past, as I know it, is being rewritten.” I really want to ask more about this, but if I interrupt now, he may never open up like this again. “Things are shifting,” he continues. “I just don’t know why or how or whether it will be for the better. And for some reason, you are at the center of it all.” He shakes his head. “Khendril asked me to keep you safe. I intend to do that.”

“So I’m just an obligation?” I don’t want to be an obligation to Khaosti. I want to be… The truth is, I don’t know.

It seems he doesn’t know either. He’s studying me, head cocked to one side. “You’re way more than an obligation.” He smirks. “You’re also a pain in the ass.”

“Ha-ha.”

“But one I find myself unable to walk away from.”

Something occurs to me. I know nothing about Khaosti’s past. “Are you married?” I ask. “Or do you have some beautiful princess waiting in the wings to become your bride?”

“No. My father would like me to marry, but so far, I’ve avoided that particular entanglement.”

I try to ignore the relief that floods my mind. It’s none of my business. But I know, deep down, that we’ve moved past that. I don’t entirely understand what this thing is between us, but I know it’s there.

For once, I allow myself to stare at him openly. He’s dazzling. Part of me wishes he were a little more ordinary. But there’s nothing ordinary about Khaosti. All long, lean muscle and leashed power. Sharp cheekbones, full lips, and those stunning golden eyes. The sexy scar. My gaze latches onto the pulse in his throat, then lower to where I can see the pale skin of his chest where his shirt is open. And lower still to the narrow hips, powerful thighs, and everything in between. I swallow.

He makes a noise low in his throat and my gaze flashes to his face.

“Did I not warn you about looking at me like that?” he murmurs.

I remember, though it seems so long ago. He’d called me a little girl. But he was wrong. I’m not sure I was ever a little girl. I don’t know what happened before I woke up three years ago, but I doubt I ever had a childhood like most people. I suspect I’ve been trained to fight from the time I could walk.

“I’m not a child.”

“I’m aware of that. But you’re younger than me. Less experienced. You make me feel old and jaded, but at the same time, hopeful.” Then he raises one elegant shoulder. “You also have a lot going on right now. I don’t want to complicate things more than they already are.”

I push myself to my feet and stand facing him, hands on my hips like I mean business. “Maybe I want you to complicate things. Maybe I like complicated.”

His nostrils flare, and he takes a step toward me. “You make everything so hard.”

My mind turns dirty at that point, and I glance down at his crotch and smirk. “Really?”

He shakes his head, then exhales. “You know what I would really like to do right now?”

“No clue.” But a girl can hope.

“I’d like to sleep. I’d like to wrap you in my arms, crawl into bed, and just forget all the crap for a while.”

At his words, a wave of exhaustion washes over me. I smother a yawn. I’d think he’d cast some sort of spell if it weren’t for the fact that I haven’t been sleeping well. And it sounds wonderful. To forget, if only for tonight. I’m not sure lying in a bed with Khaosti will be conducive to sleep, but it’s still tempting.

I hold his gaze as I toe off my boots and step toward him, my hand held out. He slips his palm into mine, and that almost familiar jolt of electricity zings along my nerves. He feels it as well; I know by the widening of his eyes. He kicks off his boots and pulls me toward the bed. I’ve never done this before; never shared a bed with anyone.

But it feels natural. He pulls back the sheet, then sits on the mattress and pats it. “Come on, I won’t bite.” He seems almost playful—a new side of him. But I like it. “Not unless you ask me very nicely.” He smiles with a flash of white teeth, and for a second, the wolf slides behind his eyes, and a sense of foreboding flickers through my mind. I push it away—I’m getting really good at ignoring the things I don’t want to think about.

He tugs at my hand, and I sink down beside him, then stretch out on the bed. He follows me down, hovering over me. For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me, then follow that to its obvious conclusion, and I feel a moment of regret. I know deep down we’ll make love one day, but it will change everything, and maybe I’m just not ready.

I suspect he senses that because he gives a rueful smile and drops a soft kiss on my forehead, then stretches out beside me. “Go to sleep,” he murmurs.

And to my amazement, I do.