Reflection Pond (18 page)

Gentle coolness spread from her center outward, eradicating all the crevices of pain. Callie coughed, splattering her hand with fresh blood.

“I’m healing her again,” Rowan said. Nobody moved to stop him.

The rawness in her throat eased, the burning monster disappeared. His hands lingered, wiped hair and sweat from her brow. “Better?”

They held their breath, waited.

Callie swallowed, relieved when the motion felt normal, and nodded. Their faces eased and Jack clapped, letting out a whoop.

“Hazel?” The voice came from the doorway. The fae parted, showing an older man standing just outside.

Hazel’s words
were clipped. “What is it?”

“I need to speak with you.” He shifted his weight.

Rowan seemed oblivious of the newcomer. He’d intertwined his fingers with Callie’s, which was enough to sidetrack Callie from what was going on. His hand was warm, not quite as electric as usual. He stroked the pad of his thumb across the back of her knuckles. On the other side, Ash had her opposite hand tucked into his.

“I’m busy,” Hazel snapped.

Rowan’s thumb paused.

“It’s important,” the man said.

“Fine.” Hazel motioned to the rest of the group to follow her.

Rowan’s thumb started the soothing circles again.

Ash patted Callie’s hand, returning it to the destroyed sheets. “We’ll be back.” He looked to Rowan, who hadn’t let go. “Come on, Row. She’ll be okay.”

Rowan didn’t look up. An unnamed emotion flickered on Ash’s face.

“Go ahead.” Rowan climbed onto the cot next to Callie and adjusted the pillow under his head, their hands still joined. “I’m tired.”

For a
moment Callie didn’t think Ash would leave. He looked between Rowan and Callie, expression shuttered. Eventually he turned on his heel and followed the rest outside, closing the door quietly behind him.

CHAPTER NINE

“Are you awake?” Callie whispered into the darkness. She wasn’t sure how long she’d lain there, staring at the pale gold ceiling. It felt like hours—days, even—and still, she couldn’t find sleep. They’d been fussed over, fed, and ordered to rest. Before leaving the last time, Ash had offered some of his energy to Rowan, who’d refused, of course. Then everyone was gone and the night closed over the two of them, the sounds of the palace growing fainter and fainter until all Callie could hear was the gentle cadence of Rowan’s breath. She’d squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to sleep. Every time she came close, Rowan’s breathing broke through the veil and reminded her that he was just inches away.

“Yes,” he said, close enough that it fluttered strands of her hair.

Callie tensed.

When Hazel said goodbye and flipped off the lights, Callie had turned her back to Rowan. They were both exhausted. Besides, Callie didn’t know how to thank him for what he’d done. She’d agonized over the perfect words. Everything sounded stupid and insincere. The lack of conversation had swelled between them, larger and larger, until Callie couldn’t stand it any longer.

She rolled over. Rowan’s face was a pale moon against the sheets, close enough she could reach out and touch his cheek. His eyes were surprisingly bright, vivid blue even in the dim light. He looked healthier, his skin smooth, his color returned.

“You look better,” she said.

Rowan didn’t answer.

She grew uncomfortable under his gaze. “What is it?”

“I thought it’d be harder to get you into bed.”

“And you’re
feeling
better.” Callie’s face heated.

“Relax, I’m kidding.” He flopped onto his back and pillowed his hands behind his head. “The million dollar question is: how are you feeling?”

“Okay.” She sat up and tugged the blankets tight around her shoulders. She could smell him, the sweet scent of soap and something earthy. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“You know—”

“Did you really think I’d let you die? Chivalry is not dead. Besides, saving you was about the only thing I’ve been allowed to do around here.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Now, let’s talk about how you’re going to return the favor.”

“I—
what?”

“Kidding.”
He chuckled. “You are so gullible.”

Callie stared at him, the wheels shifting slowly in her mind. Who was this and what had they done with the pensive, sullen boy that usually wore his skin? Maybe some of Jack’s positive attitude
had slipped in along with the energy. She looked at him for so long that he finally glanced her way and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Did you tell Ash about—you
know, when I tried to blow up your brain?” Her face grew hotter.
Why
was it so hard to talk to him?

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I never play all my cards.” The bed shifted as he sat up. Their knees knocked together and Callie jumped. “For the love, Callie,” he breathed, rubbing his knee.

Shirtless, Rowan was beautiful, hard lines and angles. Callie’s hand lifted before she realized what she was doing. It hovered in the air between them, awkward, derailed from its destination. She let it drop into her lap.

Rowan smirked.

He looked so
approachable
, with his hair tousled and the rumpled sheets cocooned around his waist. She never would’ve thought it possible for Rowan to look soft. It was as if she could actually reach him, and not just the arrogant boy he wore on his sleeve.

It unnerved her.

“Why didn’t you tell him? He’s your best friend.”

“He’s the closest thing, anyway,” Rowan agreed.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“That’s the plan. Keep them guessing.”

Callie blinked. “You know, everything that comes out of your mouth is a riddle.”

Rowan shrugged and brushed loose strands of hair off her face. The gesture was so intimate that for a moment, she could only stare as silence welled between them. He’d lowered his hands to his lap, but the touch lingered for a long while.

“They won’t let you become Fallen…will they? Hazel wouldn’t want to give up one of her own. Right?” After how hard they’d worked to heal her, she couldn’t imagine that they’d just let Rowan wander off into the human world without a fight. He was smart, a trained warrior. They needed more fae like him.

“They will. My amulet’s not here. I already told you.” He ran a hand over his face and into his hair, mussing it further. “Six others have returned since me. Every one of them, apart from you, has found their amulet. It’s not
hard,
Callie. It’s instinct. They went right to it—like a gut reaction. They just
knew.
” Quieter now, “It’s never been like that for me.
Eirensae
has never felt like home.”

“If it’s not here, then where is it?”

Rowan hesitated, speaking carefully. “I don’t know.”

The cot squeaked when Callie pushed to her knees. “I’ll help you find it. We can look together. If it’s so easy, then it won’t be a problem. Two sets of eyes are better than one, right?” She was excited, talking fast. This was how she could repay him for saving her life.

Rowan’s careful expression remained. “That’s—” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “How about we search together for yours. If we find mine—”

“Oh, we’ll find it,” she said, no doubt in her mind. She wasn’t going to let Rowan become
Fallen. She needed him to keep training her to fight.

He smiled as though he wanted to believe her, but knew better.

What if he’s right?

Callie shoved the thought away. She’d learned about the wards. Only the fae of
Eirensae
were allowed through. If Rowan was in the city, then he belonged here, just as she did.

The wards.
Someone had broken through them, or worse, it was someone on the inside. Hazel had kept everything quiet, but she knew something about the attack. Someone wanted Callie dead—and they knew how to make it happen. Callie felt removed from the information, as though she’d watched it and not experienced it firsthand. She’d gotten lucky this time.

“What are you thinking about?” Rowan asked.

“Dying.”

Silence.

“I always knew you were weird.”

Callie fidgeted, crumpling the edge of the blanket in her fist and smoothing it again. Hurried footsteps passed the door. She wished that Rowan would say something to break the tension. They were too close, with the night pressing in around them. She found herself staring at Rowan’s bare feet, scrubbed clean. His second toe was longer than the first. She remembered learning something about that in anatomy, but the fact escaped her.

Rowan let out a breath. “This is stupid. We should be in our own beds.”

“Mm,” she agreed. Her nails made an awful sound against the blanket.

“We could go back.”

“Someone tried to kill me. I’m not going out there.”

“I wouldn’t leave you,” Rowan said, suddenly serious. “I’d stay. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Callie’s mouth went dry at the thought of Rowan in her cottage.

“I think we should stay here.”

Rowan sprawled on the cot as if that’s what he expected her to say all along. His long body almost too big, his feet hung off the end.

“So when did you decide that you wanted to stay in
Eirensae
?”

Swallowing, Callie pulled the blankets tighter and lay down. “I didn’t, really. It’s
like you said before, I can’t really go back to the human world with this demon beneath my skin. I’d be shot down by the police or something.”

Rowan smiled. “I don’t think the police would get anywhere near you.”

“I don’t want to be like this. I wish that I had your power, not this awful one. I don’t want to be a monster.”

“Please,” Rowan said, still smiling, “you’re far too beautiful to be a monster.”

“Yeah. Remember that next time I explode your brain.”

His smile stretched. “At least I’ll die happy.
Night,” he mumbled, closing his eyes.

Callie stared at him for a long moment, drinking in the curve of his bicep, the hard angle of his hipbone, gaze lingering on the soft ridge of his lips. He’d called her beautiful. It shouldn’t matter. She wasn’t some silly superficial girl who needed a man to make her feel justified. Still, it was nice to hear.

She could reach out and bridge the space between them if only she had the courage.

With a sigh, she buried her face in her pillow. “Night,” she whispered.

***

Rowan slid off the cot, flinching as it creaked. He’d watched daylight travel across the wooden floor as the sun rose. Callie was asleep, blankets tangled around her waist, with one hand pillowing her face and the other balled under her chin. She looked better, with a sleep-induced rosy hue riding on her cheekbones.

Last night, Rowan had been terrified, certain she would die, worried that he would. He couldn’t understand this raging desire to protect Callie. Now that he had confirmation from Sapphire that they were essentially connected, at least he didn’t have to fight it so hard. But Rowan was still himself, and he knew he wasn’t like the other fae in
Eirensae,
which meant he was bad for Callie. Maybe she couldn’t see that now, but it was only a matter of time. His clock ticked down with every passing day.

Rowan pushed open the hospital door, surprised when it met resistance. Ash groaned and stumbled to his feet, eyes bleary. Rowan’s brows lifted. “You slept on the floor?” He leaned against the now closed door. “Were you afraid I’d steal her virtue?”

Ash made a rude noise and smoothed rumples from his shirt. He looked like hell, with puffy eyes and hair sticking up in all directions. “I was afraid someone would try to kill her again.”

“I think I’m offended.”

“Get over yourself.” Ash glanced over Rowan’s shoulder, as though he could somehow see Callie through the door. “I know you don’t care—or you
pretend
to not care, but the wards weren’t breached last night. This was an inside job.”

“Elm?”

“I don’t know.” Ash lifted a shoulder. “What about the prophetess? Would Elm have killed her?”

Hawthorne came around the corner before Rowan could answer. He greeted them formally. “How is she?”

“Asleep,” Rowan said, sizing up the other boy. He’d never gotten along with Hawthorne. Not that he got along with most people, but he found Hawthorne repulsive in a way he couldn’t explain. “Why are you here?” Rowan didn’t bother hiding his displeasure.

“Guard duty,” he answered.
“Hazel’s orders.”

“Is there any news about who poisoned Callie?” Ash asked.

For a moment, Rowan pitied his friend. Ash was a teacher. It was destiny given to him by the prophetess, yet he’d always longed for more. Rowan could understand his interest, not only because he cared for Callie, but also because it was a chance to do something other than teach.