Awakened (4 page)

“Look, I’m being serious. You want to know what’s up with me, well, I’ve been worried that you might have been hurt too bad this time.” I hesitated, fighting unexpected tears as I finally understood. “So bad that you weren’t gonna get well. And then you would leave me, too.”

Heath’s presence was so tangible there between us that I half expected to see him step from the grove and say
Hey there, Zo. No crying. You snot way too much when you cry.
And of course that thought made it even harder for me
not
to bawl.

“Listen to me, Zoey. I’m your Guardian. You’re my queen; that’s more than a High Priestess, so our bond is even stronger than a regular Oath Sworn Warrior’s.”

I blinked hard. “That’s good, ’cause it feels like bad stuff keeps trying to tear me away from everyone I love.”

“Nothing will ever take me away from you, Z. I’ve sworn my oath on it.” He smiled, and there was such confidence and trust and love in his eyes that he made my breath catch in my throat. “You’ll never get rid of me,
mo bann ri.
”

“Good,” I said softly, leaning my head against his shoulder as he drew me inside the half circle of his arm. “I’m tired of the whole leaving thing.”

He kissed my forehead, murmuring against my skin, “Yeah, me, too.”

“Actually, I think the truth is that I’m tired. Period. I need to recharge, too.” I looked up at him. “Would it be okay with you if we stayed here?
I-I
just don’t want to leave and go back to … to…” I hesitated, not sure how to put what I was feeling into words.

“To everything—the good and the bad. I know what you mean,” said my Guardian. “It’s cool with Sgiach?”

“She said we could stay as long as my conscience lets me,” I said, smiling a little wryly. “And right now my conscience is definitely letting me.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m in no rush to get back to all the Neferet drama that’s gotta be waiting for us.”

“So we stay for a while?”

Stark hugged me. “We stay until you say to go.”

I closed my eyes and rested in Stark’s arms, feeling like a huge weight had been taken off me. When he asked, “Hey, would you do something with me?” my response was instant and easy: “Yep, anything.”

I could feel him chuckling. “That answer makes me want to change what I was gonna ask you to do.”

“Not
that
kind of anything.” I gave him a little shove, even though I was feeling waves of relief that Stark was definitely acting like Stark again.

“No?” His gaze went from my eyes to my lips, and he suddenly looked less cocky and more hungry—and that look made my stomach shiver. Then he bent and kissed me, hard and long, and he completely took my breath away. “Are you sure you don’t mean
that
kind of anything?” he asked, his voice lower and gruffer than usual.

“No. Yes.”

He grinned. “Which is it?”

“I don’t know. I can’t think when you kiss me like that,” I told him honestly.

“Then I’ll have to do more of that kind of kissing,” he said.

“Okay,” I said, feeling light-headed and weirdly weak-kneed.

“Okay,” he repeated. “But later. Right now I’m going to show you how strong a Guardian I am and stick to the original question I was gonna ask you.” He reached into the leather satchel that was strapped across his body and pulled out a long, narrow strip of the MacUallis plaid, lifting it so that it floated gently on the breeze. “Zoey Redbird, would you tie your wishes and your dreams for the future with me in a knot on the hanging tree?”

I hesitated for only a second—only long enough to feel the sharp pain that was the absence of Heath, the absence of a future thread that could never be—and then I blinked my eyes clear of tears and answered my Guardian Warrior.

“Yes, Stark, I’ll tie my wishes and dreams for the future with you.”

“I have to do
what
to my cashmere scarf?”

“Tear a strip from it,” Stark said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I got the instructions straight from Seoras. That and a bunch of smart-ass comments about my education being sadly lacking and something about not knowing my arse from my ear or my elbow, and also something about me being a fanny, and I don’t know what the hell that means.”

“Fanny? Like a girl’s name?”

“I don’t think so…”

Stark and I shook our heads, in total agreement about Seoras and his weirdness. “Anyway,” Stark continued, “he said the pieces of fabric have to be from something that’s mine and something that’s yours, and it has to be special to each of us.” He smiled and tugged at my shimmery, expensive, beautiful new scarf. “You like this thing a lot, don’t you?”

“Yeah, enough that I don’t want to rip it up.”

Stark laughed, pulled his dirk from the sheath at his waist, and handed it to me. “Good, then that tied with my plaid will make a strong knot between us.”

“Yeah, that plaid didn’t cost you eighty euros, which is more than a hundred dollars. I think,” I muttered as I reached for the dirk.

Instead of letting me take the dirk from him, Stark hesitated. His eyes found mine. “You’re right. It didn’t cost me money. It cost me blood.”

My shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. Listen to me, whining about money and a scarf. Ah, hell! I’m starting to sound like Aphrodite.”

Stark flipped the dirk around so that it pressed against his chest over his heart. “If you turn into Aphrodite I’m going to stab myself.”

“If I turn into Aphrodite, stab me first.” I reached for the dirk, and this time he gave it to me.

“Deal.” He grinned.

“Deal,” I said, and then I pierced the fringy edge of my new scarf and with one quick yank ripped a long, slender piece from it. “Now what?”

“Pick a branch. Seoras said I’m supposed to hold my piece, and you hold yours. We tie them together, and the wish we make for us will be tied together.”

“Really? That’s super romantic.”

“Yeah, I know.” He reached out and traced my cheek with one finger. “It makes me wish I’d made it up, just for you.”

I looked into his eyes and said exactly what I was thinking. “You’re the best Guardian in the world.”

Stark shook his head, his expression tight. “I’m not. Don’t say that.”

As he had done to me, I traced his cheek with a finger. “For me, Stark. For me you’re the best Guardian in the world.”

He relaxed a little. “For you, I’ll try to be.”

I looked from his eyes to the ancient tree. “There.” I pointed to a low-hanging branch that forked, creating with leaves and limbs what looked like a perfect heart. “That’s our place.”

Together we went to the tree. Then, like Sgiach’s Guardian had instructed, Stark and I tied the earth-colored MacUallis plaid and my shimmery length of cream together. Our fingers brushed and as we looped the last part of the knot, our eyes met.

“My wish for us is that our future is strong, just like this knot,” Stark said.

“My wish is that our future is together, just like this knot,” I said.

We sealed our wishes with a kiss that made me breathless. I was leaning into Stark to kiss him again when he took my hand in his and said, “Would you let me show you something?”

“Okay, sure,” I said, thinking that just about then I’d let Stark show me anything.

He started leading me into the grove, but he felt my hesitation because he squeezed my hand and smiled down at me. “Hey, there’s nothing here that can hurt you, and if there was I’d protect you. I promise.”

“I know. Sorry.” I swallowed past the weird little knot of fear that had formed in my throat, squeezed his hand back, and we walked into the grove.

“You’re back, Z. Really back. And you’re safe.”

“Doesn’t it remind you of the Otherworld, too?” I spoke quietly and Stark had to bend to hear me.

“Yeah, but in a good way.”

“Me, too, most of the time. I feel stuff here that makes me think of Nyx and her realm.”

“I think it has something to do with how old this place is, and how apart from the world it’s been. Okay, it’s over here,” he said. “Seoras was telling me about this, and I thought I saw it just before you came up. This is what I wanted to show you.” Stark pointed ahead and to the right of us, and I gasped in pleasure. One of the trees was glowing. From within the craggy lines in its thick bark, a soft blue light glistened, as if the tree had luminous veins.

“It’s amazing! What is it?”

“I’m sure there’s a scientific explanation—probably something about phosphorous plants and stuff, but I’d rather believe it’s magick, Scottish magick,” Stark said.

I looked up at him, smiled, and tugged at his plaid. “I like calling it magick, too. And speaking of Scottish stuff, I’m seriously liking you in this outfit.”

He glanced down at himself. “Yeah, weird that what’s basically a dress made out of wool can look so manly.”

I giggled. “I’d like to hear you tell Seoras and the rest of the Warriors that they’re wearing woolly dresses.”

“Hell, no. I just came from the Otherworld, but that doesn’t mean I have a death wish.” Then he seemed to reconsider what I’d just said, and added, “You like me in this, huh?”

I crossed my arms and walked a circle around him, giving him a serious once-over while he watched me. The colors of the MacUallis plaid always reminded me of the earth—weirdly enough, Oklahoma red dirt earth to be specific. That distinctive rusty brown was mixed with lighter just-changed-leaves and bark-like gray-black, lighter just-changed-leaves. He wore it the ancient way, like Seoras had taught him, pleating all those yards of material by hand and then wrapping himself into it and securing it with belts and cool old brooches (except I didn’t think Warrior guys called them brooches). He had another piece of plaid that he could pull up over his shoulders, which was a good thing because except for the crisscross leather belt things, all he wore over his chest was a sleeveless T-shirt that left lots of his skin bare.

He cleared his throat. His half grin made him look a little boyish and kinda nervous. “So? Do I pass your inspection, my queen?”

“Totally.” I grinned. “With a big A-plus.”

I liked it that even though he was a big, tough Guardian, he looked relieved. “Glad to hear it. Check out how handy all this wool is.” He took my hand and led me closer to the glowing tree, and sat down, spreading part of his plaid out over the moss. “Have a seat, Z.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” I said, curling up beside him. Stark pulled me into his arms and flipped up the edge of the kilt over me so that I was warm, cocooned in what felt like a lovely Warrior-and-plaid sandwich.

We lay there like that for what seemed like a long time. We didn’t talk. Instead we sank into a beautiful, comfortable silence. It felt right to be in Stark’s arms. Safe. And when his hands started to move, tracing the pattern of my tattoos, first on my face and then down my neck, that felt right, too.

“I’m glad they came back,” Stark said softly.

“It was because of you,” I whispered back. “Because of what you made me feel in the Otherworld.”

He smiled and kissed my forehead. “You mean scared and freaked out?”

“No,” I said, touching his face. “You made me feel alive again.”

His lips went from my forehead to my mouth. He kissed me deeply and then, against my lips, he said, “That’s good to hear, ’cause the whole thing with Heath, and almost losing you, has made me know something for real that I only kinda knew before. I can’t live without you, Zoey. Maybe I’ll only be your Guardian, and you’ll have another consort or even a mate, but whoever else you have in your life won’t change who I am to you. I’ll never get pissed and selfish again and leave you. No matter what. I’ll deal with other guys, and it won’t change us. I swear.” He sighed then and pressed his forehead against mine.

“Thank you,” I said. “Even if it does kinda sound like you’re giving me away to other guys.”

He leaned back, frowned at me, and said, “That’s just bullshit, Z.”

“Well, you just said that it’s cool with you if I’m with—”

“No!” He shook me a little. “I didn’t say I was cool with you being with other guys. I said I wouldn’t let it break up what we have.”

“What do we have?”

“Each other. For always.”

“That’s enough for me, Stark.” I twined my arms around his shoulders. “Would you do something with me?”

“Yep, anything,” he echoed my answer, making both of us smile.

“Kiss me like you did before so that I can’t think.”

“I can handle that,” he said.

Stark’s kiss started out as slow and sweet, but it didn’t stay that way for long. As his kiss deepened, his hands began to explore my body. When he found the bottom edge of my T-shirt he hesitated, and it was during that tiny moment of hesitation that I made my decision. I wanted Stark. I wanted all of him. I pulled away from him so that I could look into his eyes. We were both breathing hard and he automatically leaned toward me, like he couldn’t stand not being pressed against my body.

“Wait.” I put my hand flat against his chest.

“Sorry.” His voice sounded gruff. “I didn’t mean to come on too strong.”

“No, that’s not it. You’re not coming on too strong. I just wanted to … well…” I hesitated, trying to make my mind work through the fog of desire I was feeling for him. “Ah, hell. I’ll show you what I want.” Before I could get shy or embarrassed, I stood up. Stark was watching me with an expression that was curiosity mixed with heat, but when I pulled off my shirt, undid and stepped out of my jeans, the curiosity went away and his eyes seemed to darken with the heat. I lay back down within the safety of his arms, loving the sensation of the roughness of his plaid against the smoothness of my naked skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” Stark said, tracing the pattern of my tattoo that wrapped around my waist. His touch made me tremble. “Are you scared?” he asked, pulling me closer.

“I’m not trembling because I’m scared,” I whispered against his lips between kisses. “I’m trembling because of how much I want you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Totally sure. I love you, Stark.”

“I love you, too, Zoey.”

Stark took me in his arms then, and with his hands and his lips, he blocked out the world, making me think only about him—want only to be with him. His touch banished the ugly memory of Loren, and the mistake I’d made giving myself to him, into the mists of the past. At the same time Stark soothed the hurt inside me left by Heath’s loss. I would always miss Heath, but he had been human, and as Stark made love to me I understood that I would have had to say goodbye to Heath eventually.