Lights of Aurora (The Stone Legacy Series Book 3) (19 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Zanya

Zanya sat on the floor of Tara’s bedroom, her legs stretched out in front of her.

The brightly decorated room was adorned with Moroccan curtains, woven throw rugs, and satin pillows, all shimmering with silken threads. The curtains on the large bay window were pulled aside, allowing moonlight to spill over the floor, where they lounged on oversized pillows.

They kept the conversation light and casual. Her muscles were still achy from training, and she still hadn’t shaken off the waves of dizzy spells from sprinting for the first time. Zanya sighed and rubbed a knot in her shoulder. “I need a massage.”

“I thought you were supposed to magically heal from everything, like Peter.”

“You’d think so, but using my abilities pretty much strips my energy to nothing.”

Tara bit her lip. “Other than that, how are you holding up?”

Zanya shrugged. “Okay, I guess. It’s a lot to take in, but I’ve gotten kinda used to that.”

Tara nodded, her red curls bobbing with the gesture. “It’s cool you’re back, and your mom, too. She seems…” She pursed her lips. “Mmm, different.”

Zanya sighed. “Yeah. Too different. I’m trying to get used to it, not that I ever really knew her in the first place.”

“You spent a lot of years wishing you did.”

Zanya pulled her legs to her chest. “I dreamed about her so much when I was a kid, always wondering what she’d be like. Then when I met her, that image of her was all I had. And now…”

“She’s a stranger.” Tara’s eyebrows drew together. “It’s okay if you’re disappointed.”

Zanya played absentmindedly with a string from the pillow she sat on. “I don’t know. It’s just weird. My mom is alive. I really shouldn’t be complaining.” She paused, watching her friend chew on her bottom lip. “What?”

“Nothing…”

Zanya narrowed her eyes.

“I was just thinking about you and Arwan…but I wasn’t sure if I should ask.”

Zanya blinked, and then lowered her gaze. “I guess I don’t know what to say. He seriously betrayed my trust. I’ll never be able to look at him the same way again.”

“You don’t think he deserves a second chance? I mean, I can kind of understand why he didn’t tell you.”

Zanya jerked her head up. “What?”

Tara shrugged. “Think about it from his point of view. He totally digs you, and it’s a fair assumption you wouldn’t want to be with him once you found out who he is.” She twisted a curl around her finger. “I don’t go airing my past out to every person I meet.” She ran her hand down her arm. “Not exactly proud of it, you know?”

“You were a little kid when that happened, and it’s not even close to the same thing. You can’t seriously be sticking up for him.”

Tara shrugged. “It’s just that I can relate.”

“
Unbelievable
.”

“Hey, don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m just trying to be honest. You guys
are
destined to be together, right? Why not at least let him explain?”

“This is ridiculous. What would you possibly have to gain by—” Zanya’s shoulders slumped forward. “Oh, of course. I should have seen it sooner.”

Tara scratched her arm—a telltale itch that nipped at her skin whenever she was nervous.

“Peter put you up to this, didn’t he?” When Tara didn’t respond, Zanya lazily pushed to her feet. “Tell Peter I appreciate the sentiment, but I’ll deal with my own love life.” She tugged on one of Tara’s curls to let her know she wasn’t completely furious, then checked the clock on the wall. “I have to go. I promised Jay I’d heal him tonight.”

“‘K,” Tara said softly. “But…”

Zanya paused at the door. “But what?”

“Pete’s a healer, and he said he can sense it.”

“It?”

Tara’s green eyes shimmered under the silky moonlight. “Your broken heart.”

***

The warm hardwood floor creaked under her feet as Zanya walked into the west wing, scouting for any sign of Peter or Jay. The bachelor pad was empty and dark, except an idle light from the TV, and a nightlight plugged in halfway up the stairs. “Jay, you here?”

“Up here.”

She followed his voice to the top floor and down the hall, where his door hung open. Jay sat on the bed, a guitar cradled in his arms.

She smiled. “Hey, I forgot you started playing that thing. Any better than you were the first time I heard you?”

“I think so. Listen to this.” He pressed the tips of his fingers over a few strings on the neck of the guitar. With a pick pinched between his fingers, he strummed an entire song from start to finish without fumbling once.

Zanya smiled. “That was awesome. How did you learn how to play so well?”

He held his hands in the air as if declaring his honesty. “I swear, it’s like this kinda-dead thing is helping my memory. I read that book—” he pointed to a how-to guide on the floor, “—and after I did it once, I had it down. It just flows.”

She didn’t want to be a buzzkill, but any side effects should be noted. “Anything else the
kinda-dead
thing has done to you?”

“Like what?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Stuff I should know about?”

“Oh.” He pointed over his shoulder with this thumb. “Like the wings that are growing from my back?”

She sucked in a breath.

“I’m joking. Calm down.”

“That’s wasn’t funny.”

“I have to disagree.” He chuckled. “Oh, but there is one other thing. Well, two, actually.”

“Okay.” She walked to his bed and sat beside him. “What is it?”

“I’ve been experimenting the last few days, and I’ve realized I don’t actually need to sleep. I wondered if I was the same as the guy in that story, and after I stayed up for a few nights, I wasn’t tired. But I get really hungry when I don’t sleep.

Zanya’s eyes widened. “How hungry, exactly?” If he had developed a hankering for human flesh, they had a problem.

“I ate, like, four sandwiches last night. And a pie.”

“A
whole
pie?”

“Hey. I told you I was hungry.”

“What about, oh, I don’t know…” She glanced at him. “Raw meat?”

Jay crinkled his nose. “Gross.”

The knot in her stomach fell loose. “Okay. Not so bad. That’s it?”

He shrugged. “So far.” He flashed a grin. “I guess you’re here for my session, Doctor.” He stripped off his shirt.

Thankfully, for whatever reason, the solstice
issue
she had around Arwan didn’t carry over to her time with Jay.

He pushed scattered strands of hair out of his eyes and lay down on the mattress. Zanya stripped off her shirt. “I won’t be able to do this for very long since I’ve been training all day, but I figure a little is better than nothing.” She lowered herself on top of him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist. She resisted the urge to smack away his ice-cold hands. “I’m ready to go if you are. Let’s get this party started.”

She jerked her head back. “What?”

He raised an eyebrow. “My healing.”

Her cheeks flushed with heat. “Right.”

His chest jumped with a chuckle.

She aligned their bodies and rested her cheek on the curve of his shoulder. Goose bumps prickled her skin. “God, Jay. You’re freezing.” She shivered.

“Sorry. Not really something I can control.”

“Is it uncomfortable being so cold all the time?”

“At first, but I don’t feel it anymore.”

She drew in a deep breath, channeling her energy to the surface of her skin. Before long, the healing heat move from her body into his.

Jayden exhaled and laid his head back. His expression turned solemn. She lifted her head and looked down at him. More blond hair was sloppily draped over his forehead, and his crystal-blue eyes were focused on the ceiling. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed.

“You okay?” He nodded. “I would ask if you’re in pain, but—” She blinked when the back of his fingers brushed against her cheek. “Jay…”

He ran his thumb over her lips.

“You know…” His voice was soft in the dimly lit room. “I know I’ve done a lot of shit that makes me a Grade A asshole, but out of it all, I’ve only regretted one thing.” His gaze intensified.

Suddenly she was hyperaware that she wasn’t wearing a shirt. She swallowed against a dry throat. “Jay, I don’t know if we should be talking about this right now.”

“I just want to ask you for a favor. One favor and I’ll never ask you to do anything for me again.”

She smirked. “Can I get that in writing?”

“Yes.”

The complete lack of sarcasm in his tone made her grin vanish. “What is it?”

He quietly contemplated his words. The fact he was thinking—actually thinking before he spoke—set their conversation on a whole new level. A level that made her stomach drop.

He cupped her face and ran his thumb over her cheek. “The one thing I regret is never kissing you good-bye.”

Red flags and screeching sirens went off in her mind. “Oh, Jay. No. You can’t—”

“Please.” The broken expression behind his eyes tore at her. “Just once, without worrying about anything or anyone. Like it used to be. Just this one time. For me.” His eyes softened with the arch of his brows. “I should have kissed you good-bye, and it kills me to know I didn’t. I should have told you before I left the orphanage, Zanya. And I’m sorry. I never should have left at all.”

Her throat ached, her heart racing.

His gaze flickered to her mouth. He lifted his head off the pillow and brought his lips closer to hers. Static and confusion scrambled her thoughts.

All she’d ever wanted was a normal life, with a normal boyfriend who drove a normal car. She wanted to do what regular high school graduates did. Apply to college. Worry about their grades. Live in a crammed dorm room, and stay up late for a party instead of studying for finals.

Now it was clear her life would never be normal. She would never have those things, and she would eventually have to embrace the fact that her future would always be unknown. No stability. No plan. No quaint wedding followed by a house with a picket fence and two kids. She would always live on the edge, and by accepting the responsibility of protecting the stone, she had also accepted her fate.

Jayden’s lips brushed against hers. His breath was cold. Everything was so cold.

She rested her hand on his forearm and let her fingers trace his tattoos.

He combed his fingers through her hair and squeezed her tighter.

This was a place she’d never thought she would be again—cradled in Jayden’s arms. Getting here had been a roller coaster of ups and downs, and now she may as well have been free-falling.

The ache in her chest flared when her thoughts snapped back to Arwan.

She broke their kiss and scrambled off the bed.

“Zanya.” Jayden sat up and watched her slip her shirt back on.

“That shouldn’t have happened.” Jay didn’t respond. She straightened her clothes and walked to the door.

When she paused and looked over her shoulder, his eyes pleaded with her to stay.

“I think it’s better if Peter does your healing from now on.” She did her best to ignore the softness of his gaze that always drew her to him. He looked at everyone the same way—like cold steel—except when he looked at her. He
saw
her, and
that
was what had caught her heart.

Zanya opened the door and stepped into the hall. “We can’t be together like this. Not the way you want to.” The cool of his lips lingered over hers. “That can never happen again.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Arwan

Arwan burst out of Contessa’s front door into the dreary street. Sweat collected on his brow, his body shaking.

He stumbled forward and grabbed his bag from the ground. It weighed a hundred pounds under his fatigued and battered muscles. He would be lucky to make it to a hotel for the night.

He staggered through the streets like a drunkard, grinding his teeth to push down the urge to vomit. A neon flashing sign reading
‘
vacancy’
was his salvation.

He slumped against the hotel door and grabbed the handle. He nearly fell onto the office floor when he pushed inside.

The clerk working the night shift slowly stood from his chair. Arwan leaned on the check-in desk, struggling to keep standing. He dug some money out of his pocket and spilled it onto the counter in a crumbled pile.

The clerk stared at him. “Dude. You okay? You look like shit.”

An American. Thank God. Arwan pushed the cash closer to the clerk. “I need a room.” His voice was raw and coarse. He hardly recognized it.

“Um, okay.” The clerk counted the cash and then offered a key dangling from a heavy blue marker that read
room eight
. “Bottom floor.”

Arwan’s head pounded, and his vision blurred when he reached for the key.

The clerk pulled it out of his reach. “No trouble, right? My boss would kill me if someone died of an overdose on my shift.”

Arwan’s legs quivered and nearly buckled. He clung on to the cold, dirty counter and shook his head. “No trouble.”

The clerk slowly lowered the key into Arwan’s hand.

It took every ounce of strength to drag his bag to his room. Arwan fumbled the key into the lock and managed to push the door open. He flipped on the yellow-tinted light to reveal a narrow bed made with a faded brown blanket, a round poker table with a fold-up chair, and a floor lamp in the corner.

He slipped inside and shut the door, then pulled the curtains aside and scanned the empty street for any signs he’d been followed. He would have preferred a hotel farther from Contessa’s home, but this was the best he could do under the circumstances.

He snapped the curtains shut and collapsed onto the bed. Springs groaned under his weight, and the scratchy blanket prickled his sweat-slicked skin. Tomorrow he would find a flight back to Belize. Renato’s house. His home.

He closed his eyes, and his mind wandered to an image of Zanya’s face.

Her touch.

Her smell.

The force of the solstice kept his heart true to her. Everything he had done was so they could be together.

Hopefully what Contessa had done to him would not have any long-term effects, though only time would tell.

***

Nearly three days later, Arwan landed in Belize. The airports were packed with holiday commuters traveling to see family. This time he was just part of the wandering crowd as he wove between people toward the exit.

Though the fatigue was still settled deep in his bones, his condition was better than it had been the day before. Each morning seemed to bring improvement, and the fact he had not succumbed to any other effects from Contessa’s magic left him optimistic.

He caught a trolley to the long-term parking and unlocked the Coupe, then sat in the driver’s seat. The engine purred when he turned on the car.

He pulled out of the parking lot, onto the highway. The drive gave him time to think—to wonder what the page of the book would say. Could Contessa have been right when she said his mother had taken her own life?

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, making the color drain from his knuckles. If that were the case, his entire life had been a lie. He’d spent most of his life hating the underworld king, who he’d believed was responsible for her death. All along he should have been angry with her, or maybe himself for becoming the creature she wanted to escape from.

Perhaps
he
had been to blame all along.

Nearly two hours later Arwan pulled into the covered garage at Renato’s home. His first priority was to find his mentor and explain where he had been for the last five days. Other than Zanya’s mother, nobody was aware he’d gone far enough away to need a car.

The house was empty as he wandered through the wings. Even Renato’s study was quiet. He slipped down the hall toward the main wing.

Distant, echoing voices caught his attention. He approached the door to the dojo and quietly pushed it open. Everyone was gathered around the blue training mat. Zanya and Peter were in the center, and her mother, Renato, and Hawa stood on the sidelines.

Arwan softly cleared his throat. Renato glanced over his shoulder and studied Arwan for a moment before slipping away.

Everyone else was too caught up in Zanya’s training to notice Renato’s absence. His mentor met him in the hall. “Where have you been?” His tone was deep, calm, and yet somehow intense.

Arwan held out the page bearing the Maya hieroglyphs in fading ink.

Renato let out a deep sigh. “That was what I was afraid of.” He pinched the bridge of his nose in silence and then snatched the paper from Arwan’s grasp. “You traveled there without me—without anyone knowing, to get
this
?” He shoved the paper against Arwan’s chest. “You could have been killed.”

Arwan lowered his head. “I know. I almost was.” He held the page against his chest with his flattened palm. “She’s up to something, Renato. Something terrible. She was deteriorating.”

“Did she hurt you?”

“Yes…no.” He still wasn’t entirely sure. “I managed to escape her house with my life, barely. Her darkness made me sick for days. She touched me. I think that was what caused it.”

“But did she cast on you?”

“No. She wasn’t able to. She was too weak. But she offered to give me something. Something I had no idea was even possible.”

Renato’s eyes narrowed. “No gift from that witch is worth accepting. Not when she is so deeply invested in working against our cause.”

“Renato.” Arwan shifted closer to him. “She told me she could make me normal. Riyata, without the darker half. That she could tear it out of my soul.”

His mentor’s lips parted and his eyes widened with alarm. “Dear gods in the heavens, please tell me you did not allow her to do this.”

Arwan swallowed and took a step back. “Not knowing what she might do with it, I couldn’t.”

Renato let out a long exhale and patted Arwan on the shoulder. “Very good, young man. Well done.”

“But I still needed this page.” Arwan reexamined the symbols. “She said this page contains a piece of my past. Something about my mother.”

Zanya’s mother approached the open doorway, her focus locked on Arwan. “What the hell are you doing back here?”

“Ellie, please,” Renato said sternly. “As far as I remember, this is my home as well, and I welcome him here as long as he needs to stay.”

“Fine. But if he’s going to stay here, he has to earn his keep.” She gestured to the dojo. “Zanya needs training and she’s kicking Peter’s ass.”

Arwan turned to Renato. “This isn’t the best time—”

“I wasn’t asking.” Eleuia stepped aside. “Go ahead. Renato tells me you’re quite the martial artist.”

Arwan held the paper out to his mentor. “Keep this safe. I’ll bring it to Drina for translating as soon as I’m done.”

Renato cautiously accepted the page. “Zanya has become quite powerful. Are you sure you want to train her right now? I believe she is rather upset with you.”

“Snap-snap,” Eleuia interrupted. “We don’t have all day. Move it.”

Arwan glanced at Zanya’s mother, then back to Renato. “It seems I don’t have much of a choice.”