Mercy (22 page)

“Stop moving around,” he said quietly, not sure how to explain everything else he was feeling. He didn’t know who gave her the impression she was ugly, but he had the urge to find them and make them understand what ugly was. He took a few more photos regardless of her objections, and even managed a faint smile out of her.

“You’re wasting the film. We only have one roll.” Kaliel pulled her fingers down her face until they rested on her mouth, and her backpack buzzed. She flinched, zipped up her sweater and threaded her pen into its slot in her binder. In a swift move she fished her phone out of her pack and skimmed through the messages.

Krishani lingered, gnawing hunger roiling through him. He was going to pass out if he didn’t eat something soon. She frowned at the screen, and something about her expression made him believe whoever it was didn’t like her very much. She began packing up her binder and camera. She shot him an apologetic look.

“Sorry, that was my mom, wondering where I am.”

Krishani glanced at the microwave. It was a few minutes past seven. “She doesn’t let you stay out?”

Kaliel rolled her eyes. “She does, but she has to know where I am.”

“And you didn’t tell her you were here?”

She stood and hoisted the bag over her shoulder, dropping it by the door as she pulled her coat off the peg. She settled heavy fabric over her shoulders and faced him, a withered expression on her face. “She’d freak out if she knew I was here.”

Krishani raised an eyebrow, everything he’d ever said to her at the forefront of his mind.

Kaliel picked at her fingernail. “She thinks every guy is out to …” She took her scarf off the wall and wound it around her neck, zipping her jacket and pulling her boots on.

Krishani felt queasy. Tor had a lot to do with the way things turned out for Kaliel. He shifted foot-to-foot, dizziness lancing into him. He wanted to reach out and pull her into him, make her believe she was safe, but her mom was right. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She pulled on her gloves and met his eyes, blinking a few times. “But you have to.” She didn’t let him answer, wrenching the door open and clamoring downstairs. Krishani leaned out the hallway and watched until she pushed through the glass door. He slammed the door and whirled, pressing his head against it. Elwen emerged in the hallway. Krishani moved to the kitchen, glancing out the window. Elwen opened the fridge and popped open a Red Bull.

“Did you tell her she’s an ancient mystical being capable of killing us all, too?” His sarcasm was deep.

Krishani gulped and kicked the cupboard, launching himself to the sink, bracing his hands on the ledge until his knuckles turned white. He looked at the street and watched her put her backpack on the backseat.

“No.” He didn’t take his eyes off her.

“But she knows you’re going to kill her.”

He gripped the sink harder, burning aches in the ends of his fingers. “She figured that out on her own.”

Elwen tossed back the Red Bull, leaning against the island. “What didn’t she figure out?”

Krishani watched her get in the car and start it, headlights flickering on. She pulled onto the street and drove away, making all the emptiness in his heart sharper. He drew a shaky breath.

“That I love her.”

***

Chapter 22
Wraiths

Krishani couldn’t get the feel of her out of his bones. He flipped up his collar and leaned against the white brick wall across from the choir room. She was in there with a couple other people, practicing songs. He spent the week contemplating what to do, trying to push out all the thoughts in his mind enough to focus on one thing.

He still loved her.

The girl she used to be may have subjected him to the worst form of torture known to the lands, but she was different—odd in a familiar way. The truth was, up until recently, he refused to get to know who she thought she was now. He knew her mannerisms and her routine, but he didn’t know her. She wasn’t vulnerable, weak or naïve like the girl he met on Avristar. She knew perfectly well what kind of danger surrounded her and unlike anyone he’d ever known, she didn’t want to fight it. He clenched his fist and tucked his chin to his chest as a group of girls passed him, their conversation ending abruptly once he was in earshot and resuming into the same chatter once they thought he couldn’t hear them. Apparently his long-term unwillingness to talk to anyone made him a pariah. He glanced at the choir room, waiting for Kaliel finish.

He hadn’t told her what he wanted to do, but getting her away from school and Kenora was definitely part of it. He crossed his arms, hugging his binder to his chest, stifling thrumming aches in his lower calves. Pain had a tendency to move around depending on the day, weather, and medicinal cocktail he took. Elwen ordered as much as he could online to avoid the hospital. Some of it was becoming herbal, which frankly, didn’t help at all. He suggested breaking into the hospital and stealing morphine but Elwen didn’t approve. Krishani thought Elwen liked seeing him in pain, as though it made up for all those times Krishani refused to be what Terra needed.

Krishani wasn’t the hero type.

Chairs scraped against floor and instead of piano notes and off key vocals, voices pierced the air. He caught a glimpse of Kaliel as she came into the hallway, flats, flare jeans, and long sleeve V-neck sweater covering her petite frame. She left her hair down, the curls frizzing at the ends. She looked at the floor like she always did and he stepped into line beside her, mimicking her pace.

“How bad do you want to go to class?”

She stole a sidelong glance at him. “You have a better idea?”

“I thought we could get it over with.”

She stopped in her tracks, her flats squeaking on the linoleum, looking entirely taken aback. “You want to get it over with?” she hissed, her voice very low.

He went white, looking down the hall at patches of flat gray light filtering through windows. He laced a hand around his neck and adjusted the binder under his other arm. “The photography assignment?”

She averted her gaze, a slight blush on her cheeks. He tried not to stare as she kept walking, stopping at her locker to grab her coat and out the front doors into the chilly mid-January day. It was overcast, thick grayish white clouds covering the sky. He expected to shudder at the minus thirty temperatures and biting wind, but it was nice. No wind, no insane cold. He caught up to her—she was halfway across the parking lot, on her way to the Sundance. He fell into step with her before she got to her car.

“Where did you want to go?”

“Anywhere but here.” He glanced at the school and its gray brick, and cyan outlines. Big letters on the side of the school spelled out its name: St. Thomas High School. “I can’t sit through another boring lecture.”

Kaliel laughed and pulled out her keychain, rounding the Sundance. “Know of any other waterfalls?”

He grimaced as she unlocked the doors. “I didn’t think you’d want to go there again.” He slid into the passenger side as she slammed her door and started the Sundance.

“I didn’t … I don’t,” she stuttered, frowning. “Where do you want to go?”

“Your choice, pick your favorite place.”

She cranked the wheel and pulled out of the lot. She seemed smaller. He knew he shouldn’t get to know her, but he couldn’t help it. She pulled onto Gunne and rolled down the road, barely doing twenty. “We can’t get to it … and I don’t want to go there either.”

“Why not?”

She made a cute grunting noise. “I burned it. It’s nothing but snow and charcoal.”

He felt nauseous, remembering it very well. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and pulled his seatbelt down, realizing he’d forgotten to use it.

“You were there, weren’t you?” It wasn’t a question.

“I was.”

“And you didn’t help me.”

“I … I didn’t know you needed help,” Krishani mumbled, staring at houses out the window. She didn’t answer, turning at the graveyard and he flinched, feeling tiny pinpricks in his fingers, like needles pressing into flesh and scraping against bone. He tried to stifle the look of pain on his face but she noticed it.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, almost a whisper.

“Graveyards bother me.”

“Me too.”

They sat in silence while she pulled under the bridge and around the rotunda towards Main Street. Krishani glanced at shops across the street from his flat, wishing he knew what to say to make her … alive. It wasn’t this hard to get through to her before. She had this enchanting nature that made her shine in a crowded room. Over nine thousand years later, she did everything she could to draw less attention to herself. It was the opposite of the way she used to be. He couldn’t understand why she was so shy, so unassuming, so restrained.

Lying in the cave, her body nestled to his.

Her soft hand planted in his.

Her shining amethyst eyes as she straddled him.

He coughed loudly into his sleeve and glanced at her, the girl who didn’t know, the girl who didn’t care, the girl who didn’t realize she was a shell of the person she used to be. A spasm rocked his torso and he gripped the handle hard, trying not to throw up. He couldn’t let her see him like this. He settled, stretching his hands out on his jeans and tried to resume some semblance of normal.

“Are you okay?” she asked, cutting the silence.

“I’m fine,” he rasped, still trying to get his breathing under control. “You don’t have other favorite places?”

She shrugged, and seemed sad. “I like the forest, but not when it’s frozen. We could go to Big John’s in Sioux Narrows … but it’s an hour away.”

Krishani nodded, wanting to spend as much time with her as possible, before Cossisea, Klavotesi or anyone else showed up, and she was thrust into the cataclysmic war on the horizon.

She drove until Kenora was a memory behind them, and turned down seventy-one, the same highway Elwen had him explore in December. She pushed a cassette into the tape deck, and songs very different from the ones she sang in choir flitted through the car. She didn’t talk, her hands plastered to the steering wheel, her eyes glued to the winding road. Krishani stared out the window at the rapidly changing canvas of land. From metal girders to wire ones, from evergreens to snow covered lakes to thick sheets of gray, red and sandy colored rocks, to barren shrubs and trees. Kaliel pulled over a bridge and carefully tarried into a parking lot on the other side. She parked on a snow cleared gravel slope, pulling the emergency brake.

Krishani got out and carefully rounded the car as she inched down the slope. She almost lost her balance on an invisible patch of ice, but he caught her elbow, and pulled her upright, dropping it the moment she was okay again. He passed her, heading for the front doors to the ranch style restaurant, holding the door open.

Krishani shoved his hands in his pockets as the hostess greeted them and led them to one of the many empty booths. Kaliel didn’t waste time; she ordered a basket of fries, gravy on the side, and an iced tea. The server was clearly perturbed, her blonde hair in a bun, her dark blue eyes sunken into sagging cheeks.

“Water,” he ordered, trying to feel some semblance of normal.

Kaliel folded her hands on the table and leaned in. “Are you going to tell me anything else about you or am I going to have to torture it out of you?”

Krishani stared at her smooth pale skin, and glossy pink lips. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything.”

“I can cook.”

She smiled. “Explains why you’re good with knives.”

Krishani flushed scarlet. She had a way of doing that—saying things to catch him off guard, all the while remaining dead serious and perfectly composed. “I wish you’d stop bringing that up.”

“You look sad when I do. I can’t figure out why.”

He drew in a shaky breath. “It’s not something I like doing.”

“But you do it a lot?”

He felt like sand was pouring into him. The Vulture inside was restless, caroming about his extremities with a certain kind of urgency. He did it a lot. He did it more than a lot. It was all he knew for thousands of years. Seek, destroy, devour. That was the mandate. He never let anyone live. He poured liquid warm sun through his cold, empty shell and forgot everything he used to be.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said slowly.

Krishani blinked, coming back to the restaurant around him. “Yes.”

“And waiting doesn’t bother you?”

Waiting with her more than bothered him but every time he had a chance he hesitated, and the moment passed. The thing was, he couldn’t figure out why and how she was alive in the first place, let alone how to keep her away from all the things wanting to strip her from her human shell and use her as a weapon. He thought if he could figure out how to extract her from the shell without hurting her, without awakening her, and without weaponizing her, he’d have done it already.

But she worried her way into his heart and he couldn’t. He couldn’t look at her without feeling like a thousand angry hornets were attacking his stomach. He couldn’t be around her without fighting the urge to fold her into his arms. He couldn’t sit with her in class and pretend he didn’t notice every minute gesture. He was wrapped up in everything she was and everything she wasn’t and everything she used to be, and he couldn’t untangle himself if he tried. He wanted her, and he had no idea how to make her like him, let alone trust him or love him. He didn’t even know why she was in a restaurant with him, when everything should have told her it wasn’t safe.

He was going to answer when the server brought their food and instead of saying anything he grabbed a French fry and dunked it in gravy, savoring the taste, because it made the aching in his stomach subside a little. He downed the glass of water and the server came by to refill it. Kaliel ate, stealing glances at him every few seconds.

“I can wait until grad,” he said, between bites.

She swallowed hard and took a sip of iced tea to clear her throat. “And you’ll do it the way I …?”

“No. I can’t—” He wanted to tell her that he didn’t have a gun, and that he didn’t even have a plan. He needed to trap her essence in something, but he didn’t have a clue how that worked. He squeezed his eyes shut and thought about Tiki but even inside the lantern she was inside an orb, and unless he could find something like that.… “Are there any occult shops nearby?”

She shot him a puzzled look. “Why do you need an occult shop?”

“I need something for the ritual.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a small
O
. “Is it going to hurt?”

“Yes,” he whispered, feeling dizzy. “It’s going to hurt a lot.” She abruptly pushed up from the table and he grabbed her wrist, startled. “Where are you going?”

She sniffed. “Bathroom,” she rasped; her eyes watery. He stared at her, not knowing what to do. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave.”

He peeled his hand off her arm and noticed the empty plate of fries and the piece of paper on the edge of the table. He dug into his jacket pocket for enough to cover the bill and got up, moving to the door. He passed the hostess podium when a strong hand circled his wrist. He swiveled, forcing his arm out of the grip, shifting into survival mode as he glared at the person behind him. The guy wore a white battered apron, tight black shirt and gray slacks, but his blue eyes and long ponytail gave him away.

“Tor?” Krishani stared at him dumbfounded, registering the same shock that was on Tor’s face.

“Leave her alone,” Tor said, his tone low, menacing.

He smirked. “Or what?”

“You’ll be sorry, Vulture.”

He recoiled. “It’s Krishani.” He finished wrenching himself out of Tor’s grip and pulled his jacket down.

Tor glowered. “I’m surprised you remember that name.”

Krishani locked eyes with him, unwilling to let him win. He couldn’t win, he couldn’t have her. He was like the rest of them, wanting to use her as a weapon. Anger flashed through him. “I remember everything.”

The sound of the bathroom door opening and closing made them snap to attention. Tor retreated to the kitchen while Krishani watched Kaliel come to the front, eyes puffy. She passed him without a word and he followed her back to the car. She was silent on the way back, sad music streaming out of speakers. Krishani tried to follow the lyrics, knowing that’s what made her like some songs more than others. It wasn’t an instrumental thing for her, it was always the words.

“We didn’t take any pictures,” he said as she pulled onto the Seventeen and began heading back to town. She sniffled as she turned at the Wal-Mart.

“I don’t feel like taking pictures right now.” She pulled into the lot at St. Mary’s Harbor and stopped in front of a wooden post with an outlet attached to it. She ripped the key out of the ignition, the cylinder falling into the cup holder. “Fuck,” she muttered, grabbing it and slamming out of the car. She pocketed the cylinder as Krishani opened the passenger door. She popped the trunk and grabbed the orange extension cord he’d seen before, ignoring him while she plugged in the car. He stayed to the passenger side as she stood, looking at him from across the hood of the car.

“How long are you going to torture me?” Her words were sharp.

Krishani felt sick.

He shook his head, pressing his bare fingers to his temples as the wind howled. “I wasn’t going to—that’s not the kind of pain—ugh.” He came around the front of the car and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder and dragging her down the snowy road on the path leading to the waterfall. She let out a short protested cry, kicking and telling him to stop but he didn’t listen, keeping her balanced on his shoulder. He waded through thick snow and trudged down the slope, stopping when he reached the glistening frozen falls. He set her down on the rocks, his hands sliding to her shoulders. She pressed her lips into a straight line, her hazel eyes icy.