Darkness & Discovery (The Bespelled Trilogy #2) (17 page)

“No.
He didn’t do much of anything to me, aside from drugging me and tying me up.”

I
felt the tension ripple through the muscles of Alastair’s back and shoulders.
“I want to kill him,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “I hate him for doing
that to you. And I hate myself for constantly bringing danger into your life.
Everything bad that happens to you is because of me.”

“Not
true. Plenty of bad stuff manages to happen all on its own. And please don’t be
mad at Athos. He was just following orders, and ended up doing the right thing
by helping me escape.”

“Only
after you saved his life.” His voice was still very low. I tilted my head back
to look at Alastair in the darkness and saw immediately that he was angry. And
the reason I knew that was because his eyes were glowing and flickering ever-so-slightly,
as if burning from within, transforming the deep indigo to a rich royal blue. It
was equal parts unnerving and eerily beautiful.

I
put my head back on his chest and said, “I really do think he’s a good person,
and
he’s your half-brother. So I wish you’d give him a chance.” It was a bit
hypocritical to argue the case for giving someone a chance just because they
were family. I’d been reminded far too recently that just because someone was
related to you, it didn’t automatically mean they deserved to be a part of your
life. But I really felt that Alastair and Athos could be good for each other.

Alastair
kissed the top of my head and tried to close the subject by saying, “It’s late,
Lu. Let’s try to get some sleep.”

I
nodded, still resting my head against his broad chest, and felt him relax in my
arms incrementally. His breathing leveled out and became deeper. Soon Alastair
was asleep and I rolled over in his arms, his body automatically following, fitting
against mine. I stared out into the darkness, inexplicably awake now.

And
unbidden, thoughts of my mom came to me. I had known they would.

I
could picture her so clearly in my mind. She’d been young when she had me, only
nineteen. Just two years older than I was now. Her honey blonde hair fell past
her shoulders in waves, and I remembered that she used to wear white
sundresses, set off against the year-round tan that came from spending most of
her time outdoors. She looked nothing like me, except for one thing: her eyes
were sky blue, just like mine. I tried not to see her looking back at me
whenever I caught my reflection in a mirror.

I
never understood her – not when I was a kid, and not now. My mother was someone
that just couldn’t live in her own skin, she couldn’t be clear-headed, even for
an hour. As soon as the drugs would start to wear off, as soon as she’d start
to
feel
, she’d get upset. And she’d retreat right back into a haze. Not
that that meant she was completely dysfunctional. She’d somehow been capable of
illegally cultivating and selling marijuana, after all, and that did keep a
roof over our heads. But everything else, things like being a parent, were just
too much for her.

I
had to wonder: what was it about Miranda Harper’s life that compelled her to
drug herself, to live in a fog? What was she trying not to think about, trying
not to feel? I’d probably never know the answer to that. I didn’t even know why
I cared enough to ask these questions.

It
occurred to me then that my mother must have gotten clean in prison. She must
have been forced to learn to face reality, to deal with life without the crutch
of drugs. But it clearly hadn’t helped her. It didn’t mature her, or make her
responsible. That was blatantly obvious, given the fact that she’d skipped out
on all her responsibilities when she got out of jail. Given the fact that she’d
skipped out on
me
.

Tears
prickled at the back of my eyes, and that made me angry with myself. I’d
already cried over this. I wasn’t going to do it again. I wasn’t going to let
her selfishness and carelessness keep hurting me.

I
slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Alastair, and left the room, closing
the door softly behind me. I wanted something to distract myself, so I decided
to go stare out at the Strip for a while, and crossed through the open doorway
into Bryn’s suite, which had the better view.

Athos
was in the darkened living room, sitting on the floor right in front of the floor-to-ceiling
window and leaning against a big, square ottoman. His feet were bare and his
hair was down, falling to the small of his back like a dark silken curtain. I
came and sat beside him, and he leaned over so he was ever-so-slightly touching
my arm with his. “Thank you for befriending me,” he said quietly.

“Thank
you for letting me.” I scanned the horizon, out beyond the grand hotels. The
sky was just beginning to lighten, steel grey replacing rich black.

“Thinking
about your mom?” he asked after a pause.

“Yeah.
How could you tell?”

“I
feel so much sadness coming from you.”

We
were quiet for a long time as the sky went a paler shade of grey.

“They’re
coming,” he said softly after a while.

“The
Order?”

He
nodded, and I asked, “How do you know?”

“I
was with them long enough to sort of…integrate them into me. It’s hard to
explain. When I spend enough time with someone, I guess I sort of make them a
part of me. I start to feel their emotions. It’s an unusual offshoot of my
abilities as a reader – or at least, that’s what I assume it is.”

“Do
you literally feel my sadness?”

“Yes.”

“Because
we spent those few hours together? It happened that fast?”

“It
actually happened the moment I met you. You were so upset. You just flooded me
with emotion, and part of me opened up to you instinctively.” He smiled a
little and said, “I was doomed to care about you from the very start.”

I
raised an eyebrow and said, “Didn’t stop you from drugging me. What would you
have done if I hadn’t drunk the spiked water, out of curiosity?”

He
sighed and said, “I would have held you down and injected you with a hypodermic
needle that I’d brought for that purpose.” Then he added, “I’m so sorry I
drugged you and kidnapped you. I’m terribly ashamed that you were a victim of
and witness to my darkest hour. And I can’t believe that I wanted to belong to
something so desperately that I was willing to put aside my own sense of right
and wrong.”

We
both watched as the sky slowly warmed to a pale pink. “I’m glad I was thirsty,”
I said after a while.

“Me
too.” After a while, he gestured at the massive hotels out the window and said,
“I’m not used to this kind of environment. It makes me feel really uneasy, all
those people, all that sound and light and commotion. I do a lot better in a
rural landscape.”

“What
were you doing before you joined the Order?”

“I
was a shepherd.”

I
grinned at that and looked at his profile. “Like, with the crook and the
flowing robes?”

He
smiled and said, “Like with an ATV and a cowboy hat. I worked on a modern sheep
farm.”

“In
France?”

“In
Idaho.”

“So,
you probably could’ve just said you were a farm hand.”

“I
could have,” he said. “But I figured you’d get a kick out of picturing me
dressed like a Biblical character.”

“And
you were right.”

The
sky ignited like fire in slow motion, turning a brilliant shade of rose. We
watched it for a while before I finally spoke again. “How close is the Order?”

“They’re
making slow progress, so I guess they’re driving. Which means they’ll be here
by mid-afternoon.”

“How
did they know to come here?”

 “I
really don’t know.” Athos took a deep breath and said, “I’m going to track them
down when they get here. I won’t be able to take out all four of them, but I
should be able to take out one, maybe two. That’ll increase your boyfriend’s odds
of survival a bit. And the reason I’m telling you this is not so you can talk
me out of it. You’ll probably be asleep when I go, and I didn’t want to leave
without saying goodbye.”

“Ok.
So, in other words, less than twenty four hours after Bryn saved your life,
you’re going to go out and commit suicide. Seriously, Athos?”

“It
has to be done. Alastair won’t let me fight beside him, and the Order are too
strong, too well-trained, for him to take on all four of them by himself. And
it will be by himself, because they’ll find a way to separate him from Joey and
Bryn – that’s how they operate. If I don’t do this he’ll be hopelessly
outnumbered, and they’ll take him down.”

“What
do you care? You want Alastair dead as much as they do.”

“I
care,” he said, “because there’s a chance you’ll get hurt or killed in the
crossfire. And beyond that, if Alastair is killed, you’ll be devastated. I
don’t want that to happen to you.”

I
stared at his profile and said firmly, “There is absolutely no way I’m going to
let you go out and sacrifice yourself like that.”

He
turned his head to meet my gaze, his aquamarine eyes so full of sadness. “I’m
already a dead man walking, Luna. The Order will kill me for deserting, there’s
no escaping my fate. At least this way I can help you before I die.”

“That’s
not the only alternative. If you want to help Alastair for my sake, then get
over your animosity and fight at his side, like brothers should. Can you do
that? Can you deal with the fact that Alastair is a vampire and team up with
him?”

“I
don’t know. Maybe I could learn to live with it for your sake…maybe not. Regardless,
Alastair doesn’t want me at his side, Luna. He hates me because of what I did
to you, and he’s never going to forgive me. And I don’t blame him at all for
that.”

“Give
him time, Athos.”

“There
is no time. The Order is coming. I have to do this.”

“Even
though it’ll cost you your life.”

He
nodded.

“You
took some kind of vow to me. Can I order you not to go off on this suicide
mission?”

Athos
grinned a little. “I’m afraid not.”

“Well,
I’m still not letting you go! I’m just not letting you face the Order by yourself.
I’ll…I’ll incapacitate you and tie you up if I have to, at least until I’m able
to talk some sense into you!”

“You’re
not strong enough to incapacitate me.” He said it as a simple statement of
fact, but I found it really irritating.

And
ok, technically he was right about that. I wasn’t strong enough. But I knew
someone who was. I glared at him and pushed myself to my feet, then padded down
the hall to Bryn’s room. He was sound asleep and I felt bad for waking him, but
I did it anyway. He sat up and stared at me expressionlessly from beneath
hooded lids and a wild matt of dark hair, as I quickly explained Athos’
proposed suicide mission. Bryn rolled his eyes and muttered, “Everyone’s such a
martyr around here.” And he dragged himself out of bed.

He
marched into the living room and took Athos by the arm, then dragged him into
the other suite. “What are you doing?” Athos demanded, trying and somehow
failing to pull away.

Bryn
didn’t answer. He just led the nephilim to my room at the end of the hall,
opened the door, and practically tossed Athos inside, displaying an obviously
magic-enhanced amount of strength. Then he slammed the door shut and it
immediately disappeared.

“Are
you kidding?” I exclaimed. “You sealed Athos and Alastair in together? Why?
They’ll kill each other!”

“No
they won’t,” Bryn said as he walked away.

“How
do you know that?”

“Well,
I don’t really. I can only assume.”

“What’s
this supposed to accomplish?” I yelled after him.

“Now
they have no choice but to deal with each other and learn to get along. And
once they do that they can fight side by side, instead of one of them going off
and trying to be a hero.”

“But—”

“Go
to sleep, Luna. And for God’s sake, let me sleep too. Don’t make me go all
wicked witch on you and knock you out with a spell, Sleeping Beauty.”

I
watched him go, and crossed my arms over my chest. Already, raised voices were
coming from the other side of the wall.

Joey
stuck his head out of his bedroom door, his short golden blonde hair sticking
up in messy spikes. “What’s going on?” he mumbled.

I
quickly filled him in on the situation, and said, “It’s just a matter of time
before they attack each other.” A loud crash from behind the wall confirmed
that.

“Alastair’s
got this,” Joey said. “He can take that big dork, no problem.” He grinned and
went back to bed.

I
yelled through the wall, “If either one of you kills the other, I’m never
forgiving you!” And then I sat down in the hall and rested my arms on my bent
knees. Ok, I really didn’t believe anyone was going to get killed. But I did
think it was hopelessly lame that men sorted out their issues with violence. A
sound like a truck hitting the side of the building reverberated through the
hotel room. I dropped my head onto my arms with a big sigh.