Page 57

Kiss and Tell

I ’m guessing it’s past midnight when we get back to the cottage.

Khaosti has been silent on the walk back from the bridge. I’m not sure what he’s thinking. Maybe he’s processing everything. He can join the club; it’s a lot to take in.

Time travel.

I was actually born more than 5,000 years ago. I turn to Khaosti. “You know what this means?” I say.

He shakes his head. “I’m not sure what anything means anymore.”

“It means that I am, in fact, older than you. By about 5,000 years. So no more telling me I’m too young for anything.”

I’ve made a decision in the last few hours: I want to make love with Khaosti. Sooner rather than later, because who knows how long it’ll be before the shit hits the proverbial fan.

No one has actually asked me yet where the mirror is. I suspect Hecate didn’t want me to talk about it in front of Khaosti. She still doesn’t trust him. And how can I blame her when I don’t entirely trust him myself? That hurts, but it is what it is. It doesn’t stop me from loving him. Wanting him.

Hecate suggested, back at the bridge, that I need at least a day to recover from my ordeal before I head out again. Thank Christ. I’m drained emotionally and physically. I long for a bath, my bed, and sleep.

Khaosti has come to a halt, and I stop beside him. He doesn’t say anything, but he takes a step closer and slides his hand behind my neck, his fingers warm and firm. He tugs me toward him, and I raise my head. In the dim light, I can see his golden eyes glowing. Then he lowers his head, blanking out the dim light, and kisses me.

I never want him to stop. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer. Heat sizzles through my blood, and everything around me melts away as I’m lost in the moment. It feels so right. I knew it would be good with us when we gave in, but it’s so much better than anything I could have imagined. My heart races, and I kiss him until I run out of oxygen and have to gasp for air, then I kiss him again. His hands are in my hair, sliding down my back, resting on my waist, and pulling me even closer. He’s so hot and hard, and for a second, I push myself against him.

Then I pull away. “Later,” I murmur, a promise. He nods in response.

I don’t want to let him go, but I slowly raise my head and glance over my shoulder. Hecate stands there, tapping her foot and looking extremely annoyed.

“Can we go?” she asks. “I, for one, would like my bed.”

Bed sounds like a good idea to me. I glance up at Khaosti, and I’m guessing he thinks the same. His golden eyes are dark with desire, and I almost sway toward him.

“Please,” Hecate says. “This isn’t the time or the place.”

I look around. We’re on the main thoroughfare of the village, but no one is in sight except for us. Still, she’s probably right. I’m not sure there is a time or a place that would be right for this, but I know I want there to be. With a sigh, I drop my hands from his shoulders and take a step back. For a moment, something feral flashes in his eyes, and I think he’s going to reach for me, but then he nods and turns back toward the cottage. I fall into step beside him, with Hecate behind us—no doubt in case we decide to stop again.

I know she’s just looking out for me. But I’m all grown up and ready to make my own mistakes. Part of me suspects that Khaosti would be a mistake—maybe one I would never recover from. But my heart—not to mention my body—tells me it would be worth the pain.

There’s a light glowing in the window of the cottage. It feels like home, and my heart aches because I know I have to leave.

As we enter, Hecate says, “Go clean up. You smell. Both of you. I’ll get some hot food on the table, and then you can sleep. We can all sleep.” She looks at me. “And I think we should keep this from the others until you’ve had time to process it.”

It sounds like a plan—the fewer people who know my not-so-illustrious heritage, the better, as far as I’m concerned. I nod, and with a last reluctant glance at Khaosti, I head to my room. I peel off my clothes along with the bandage around my throat, groaning as I stand under the hot water. My body is black and blue. There’s a huge bruise around my rib cage. Pity I can't heal it—I’ve remembered that I’m a healing witch, among other things. But my training in those matters is limited, as I never had access to other witches after I left Hecate when I was four. Khendril and the others taught me a lot of theory but nothing practical. Besides, I still hadn’t come into my magic by the time I lost my memory—it must have happened sometime in the last three years and gone unnoticed. Maybe now I can finally learn how to utilize my powers. Something tells me I’m going to need every advantage I can get in the times to come.

It feels fabulous to be clean. I pat myself dry, then stand in front of the small mirror as I braid my long damp hair. I then turn my head to the side so I can see where that creature cut me. The wound is healed now. I can still see where its claws ripped into my flesh, but it’s only a scar. It looks weeks old instead of hours.

After dressing in a clean pair of pants and my old t-shirt—which has been laundered, so it’s clean, if a little holey—I head back to the kitchen and meet Khaosti at the door. His hair is wet from the shower, and he’s dressed in clean clothes as well: black pants, long boots, and a black shirt. The color works for him. A sense of shyness washes over me as we look at each other. There’s a promise in his eyes of things to come, and the heat sparks to life deep inside me again, starting an ache in my belly.

I give myself a little shake and step into the kitchen. Thanouq is seated at the table, and I grin like an idiot.

“I’m glad you’re back safely,” he says. “I thought we’d lost you.”

“Aw, would you have been sad?”

He smiles. “You know I would.”

Hah, I bet that would change if he knew who I really was.

“I would have come after you, but…”

“You were needed elsewhere. I understand.”

And I do. Thanouq is an honorable man. I feel bad for a moment for keeping my secret from him. But I don’t want him to look at me like he hates me. I know he and his people have reason to hate Lucifer, to despise him. What will Thanouq think when he realizes that Lucifer is my father? Because one day I will have to tell him—this is just a reprieve.

I cross the room and take a seat opposite him. Khaosti sits down next to me, and Hecate plonks bowls of hot, steaming stew in front of us. There’s fresh bread on the table—I can smell it and breathe deeply—and thick, creamy butter. I take a slice, add the butter, and take a huge bite.

“So he was going to trade you to Lucifer?” Thanouq says, then stares straight at Khaosti. “Nice friends you’ve got.”

Khaos doesn’t deign to respond, so I answer for him, “Trystan is dead, so it hardly matters.” I take another bite. I chew slowly, swallow, and take a spoonful of stew. It’s hot, and I blow on it.

Thanouq keeps his attention on Khaosti, a frown between his eyes. I’m guessing he wants to say more, but he seems to decide against it because he starts to eat and gives all his attention to his food.

I do the same. I eat until I’m full and can’t manage another mouthful.

I’ll never take food for granted again after these last weeks. I might not have thought Lissa and Pete were good foster parents, but at least they put food on the table most of the time. I sit back, sigh, and catch Thanouq’s searching gaze on me.

“Still no memory?” he asks.

I can almost feel the flush creeping over my cheeks, but I manage to shake my head. I really hate lying.

He gives me a look of sympathy, which makes me feel even worse. “No matter,” he says. “You can be anything you choose to be.”

“I know.” Except of course whose daughter I am. Other than that, I just have to decide exactly what I want to be. But for the first time, I think perhaps I can do this. Whatever this is. Others believed in me; I just have to find that belief for myself.

Just not right now. “Time for bed.” I glance sideways at Khaosti. He’s looking at me, watching me with those golden eyes, his lids half-closed. My gaze drops to his mouth, slightly parted, and I remember the sensation of it on me. I can’t wait to feel it again. I lick my lips and slowly push myself to my feet.

“First, I think it’s time to take a look at your injuries,” Hecate says. “I probably have something that can help. And no doubt you’ll sleep better for it.”

I had forgotten about my injuries, but as soon as she mentions them, the aches start again. Mainly my ribs, but there are other bruises too. I know she’s right. I give a quick nod and, with one last glance at Khaosti, I follow her out of the room and into her small office. I stand just inside the door, feeling suddenly awkward—I don’t know why—and a little guilty. I haven’t done anything wrong. Yet.

She turns to me and looks me in the eye. “You can’t trust him,” she says. “You know that, don’t you? There’s too much resting on this.”

I think about what she’s saying. There are some things I trust Khaosti with. I trust him with my life. But I don’t trust him with my secrets. Except I’ve already trusted him with the biggest secret of all—who I am. It was a secret only shared between my guardians and Hecate. Now the circle is widening. But I felt it was right that he knows—he’s come so far on this journey with me.

But I don’t know enough about him or where his loyalties lie. I remember Khendril telling me that as a boy, Khaosti had been indoctrinated almost from birth to believe that the Astrali had a God-given right to rule, and that everybody else should fall at their feet. I don’t think Khaosti really thinks like that, but maybe it’s there in the back of his mind. And when push comes to shove, will he be on my side when the fate of his world is at stake? I can’t risk it. A deep pain burns in my heart as I accept that.

Afterward, maybe there’ll be time for us. I hope. But now, I have to do my own duty, what my mother gave up her life for me to do. What Khendril and the others died for.

I have to save the goddamn world.

Hecate is giving me time to think. She knows when not to push, that I have to come to the right decision for myself. She’s mixing herbs in a bowl and pouring steaming water onto them. She carries it over to me and holds it in front of her face. I breathe it in, and the sweet, fresh aroma fills my mind. It sinks down through my body, and the last of my aches and pains fade away to nothing. I feel more awake. My mind is quiet and calm. Whatever is in there is good stuff, and I realize that I also have the power to do this. I’m a healing witch and a spellcaster, and also—something Hecate doesn’t know yet—I’m a mirror-mage, like my mother. I have the power to make the portals between the worlds, maybe the last mirror-mage alive.

“Thank you,” I say. “I feel better.”

She’s studying me, her head cocked to one side. Then she reaches out and touches the scar on my throat. “This hasn’t healed completely,” she says. “Shadowguard?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“You were bitten?”

“No, just claws.”

Her lips purse. She’s thinking about something, but maybe she doesn’t want to share it just yet. Maybe she doesn’t want to take my mind off what I have to do next. Finally, she sighs and lets it go.

Something has been troubling me, something I couldn’t ask in front of Khaosti. “Will you tell me something?”

“If I can.”

“If the mirror is the only portal to Hell, then why not let Khronus have it? He could send in an army and destroy Lucifer.”

Her expression becomes troubled. “Your mother didn’t tell me everything. I think she ran out of time. She was fading faster than she expected. But she did say that it was imperative that you go and face your father. There’s something you need to do.”

“But what?”

She purses her lips as though considering what to tell me. The truth would be good. “I’m not sure, but it’s connected to the amber you wear.”

I reach up and touch my pendant. It’s warm under my fingers, like a living thing. “What is it? Why is it so important?”

She glances away for a moment. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.” She gives a small shrug. “We have to believe that it will become clear in time.”

Frustration grates on my nerves, leaving them raw. I’d thought everything would be crystal clear once I had my memories back. I was wrong. Great.

Hecate obviously thinks it’s time to change the subject. “So, you’re ready to get the mirror. Can you tell me where it is?”

I shake my head. It’s better she doesn’t know. “My mother had good reason not to tell you.” Because Trystan was right about one thing—everyone breaks in the end. “Besides, I have to do this on my own.”

She nods. “I understand. I wish I could help you more.”

“You’ve helped me immensely. I couldn’t have gotten this far without you. It was your words that helped me remember.”

“Then I’m glad she entrusted you to me all those years ago.”

“So am I. And I’ll come back once I have the mirror safe.”

“Just know that you won’t have to go to Hell alone. When the time comes, I’ll be at your side.”

“Thank you.” But I can’t think that far ahead right now. “Before that, I need some serious training. I know I have magic but I can't access it.”

“I’m here for you always.” Suddenly, she looks tired. “You’re not waiting a day, are you? You’re leaving in the morning?”

“Yes. And I’ll go alone.” I’m not sure how Khaosti will feel about that, but that’s something I’ll face when it comes.

“Good. It’s the right decision. Now get some sleep, and I’ll see you on your way in the morning.” She kisses me on the forehead, and then she’s gone.

I stare at the door for long minutes. I know tomorrow is just the first step in an even longer journey.

One I may never come back from.