Stained (18 page)

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Authors: Ella James

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Young Adult

BOOK: Stained
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Cayne laughed at something Rosa said, and Julia turned her attention back to the conversation. The seer was telling the story of the first time he visited her, almost three years before. He had barged in unannounced and encountered Malachi. The two tore up the kitchen before Rosa broke up the fight.

"I made them fix it, too. Took three days. Cayne had to rebuild the cabinets," she recalled. "Next time he pretends to be tough, you just hit his thumb with a hammer. He'll cry like a little baby."

Julia forced a smile as Cayne defended his manliness. Malachi, who other than his greeting at the door a couple of hours before hadn't spoken all evening, laughed softly.

Where was his monster? She glanced at Cayne. Where was
his
? She wanted to see the demon. Was almost desperate to.

Julia spent another hour with the three in the living room, but the more stories Rosa told the heavier Julia's eyelids became. She interrupted one with a huge yawn and, blushing, apologized.

The seer smiled and pointed to a door behind her. "You need to sleep. Go through the bath. The guest room is ready."

Cayne stood, but Julia pushed him back down. "It's just the other side of the bathroom."

He frowned. "The moment we let our guard down--"

"Cayne, just chill." She hoped she didn't sound rude, but she was too tired to make sure she didn't. "Have fun."

He seemed uncertain, so Julia looked to Rosa for help. "Stay up with me for another hour, at least," the seer said.

Reluctantly, Cayne agreed.

The little bedroom was white, airy, and comfortable. Feeling relaxed for the first time since that terrible night in Memphis, Julia cracked one of the windows and settled into bed. But once she was warm under the covers, her sleepiness vanished. She had too many things running through her mind, and she didn't have the energy to deal with them. Instead, she tried to catch snatches of chatter from the living room.

When Cayne entered, probably an hour later on the dot, Julia held her breath. For some reason, she didn't want him to know she was awake. He hovered at the edge of her bed, and she could feel his gaze on her. Then he moved to shut the window.

Casually as she could, Julia rolled onto her side and inched her left eye open. He was staring out the slice of glass between the two curtains. A slither of pale light cut his face in half.

"Cayne?"

"Yes?" He didn't startle. Of course he had known she was awake.

Julia bit her lip, suddenly unsure. "Um...you seem to like Rosa a lot."

"She's been good to me."

"That's good." Julia wished she wasn'tout braless and in bed. She already felt awkward. "Rosa told me about Malachi."

He made a noise that didn't seem to mean anything, and Julia added, "About what happened when he was in high school."

Cayne turned to face her, and Julia diverted her gaze. "So that's what's had you in knots," he said.

"What?"

"You've acted strange all night. I thought I had upset you."

"No, not at all."

He seemed to be waiting for something, and when she didn't offer it, he asked, "Is it still on your mind?"

Julia closed her eyes. "Yeah." She heard Cayne shift, and she opened her right eye. He had turned back to the window.

"You're looking for my demon."

"Yes."

He sighed. "So am I."

Rosa and her son must have gone to bed, because the silence in the house was absolute. Julia held her breath, afraid that she would break it.

"I feel it all the time," Cayne said, "like a second skin under my first. It writhes when I'm angry. Or when you're in danger." He smiled at that. "It's like...something I see in the corner of my eye. No matter how often I turn, it's just out of sight. But it's always there." She didn't say anything, and he tacked on, "Does that make sense?"

Julia wasn't sure. And, for some reason, she blurted the first thing that came to her. "Have you ever killed anyone?" She gasped, and her hand smacked her mouth.

Cayne didn't seem bothered by the question. "Weren't you there?"

She remembered the abusive man in the park and the motorcyclist, but shook her head. "I mean other times."

He hesitated, but only for a moment. "Yes."

"Would you tell me about it?"

"Do you really want to know?"

Julia had the feeling his question was about more than the times he had killed. And she did want to know. She told him so.

"A few, that I can remember. All within the range of what most people would consider justified."

Julia wasn't so sure. His face was troubled again, remembering. He was leaving something out.

"But there's a long period of time I can't remember," he said. "From what I've gathered, I think... a lot of it is unpleasant."

Julia wanted to ask what exactly he had "gathered", but she decided not to press. She already felt terrible, like she was forcing him to prove himself. Maybe she was. But she had one more question, and she was determined to ask it. "Will you tell me what it feels like?"

"Killing?" She nodded. "It doesn't feel like anything."

Said so bluntly and so casually that Julia almost didn't believe him. But then he looked at her, and she saw the truth in his eyes. To Cayne, death and life were just different sides of the same coin. She didn't think he enjoyed it, but when the toss landed the right way, he wouldn't hesitate.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

With me
, his voice added.

"Yes." She really was.

Cayne stared at her, searching her face for something. When he found it, he nodded and turned back to the window. But Julia wanted to show him how okay with it she was.

"Come to bed."

Cayne's eyes became saucers as his head jerked up. Julia's face was on fire, but she didn't care. "Just lay on top of the covers until I fall asleep," she amended. "Please?"

Cayne stared. With a so not steady hand, she rubbed the bare spot beside her. After several heartbeats, he complied.

He sat with his back facing her, and she said, "Lie down."

He did, stiffly. He crossed his legs and clasped his hands over his flat stomach. Julia gathered all her courage and snuggled into his side. It was warm.

"You won't leave me, will you?" she whispered.

Cayne's fingers found her hair. "No."

"I don't bite," Rosa laughed.

Julia grinned weakly as she eased herself onto a purple cushion. She was so not prepared for this.

Cayne had woken her just before noon with a joke about beauty sleep, a little awkward I-shared-a-bed-with-you-and-played-with-your-hair-ness, and a message from Rosa to spend the next four hours clearing her mind. Then he had disappeared, leaving a light breakfast and a confused Julia behind. He came back with an afternoon snack, and then an hour later when it was time for her to visit the seer. Julia had told him she wasn't ready. She had spent the entire day in knots. And she had barely seen him!

"My mind's like a dump," she pleaded.

"Ordinarily I'd agree. But you're ready."

"Funny. And no I'm not."

"She thinks you are."

Cayne smiled softly when he left her by the back room, which was now separated from the rest of the home by a thick, dark curtain. Julia took a moment to steady her wobbling knees and then ducked into shadows and candlelight. Incense was burning in the corner, and she began to feel lightheaded as she worked her way to the small table in the center of the room.

"I hope you slept well last night." Rosa's voice was smug.

Julia almost blushed. The seer couldn't know how she fell asleep, right? "I did."

Rosa nodded. "Were you able to wipe your mind clean?"

Julia shook her head, embarrassed to admit it.

"Good. That will make it easier."

"But you said--"

"What I needed to say. All that mumbo jumbo about clearing your mind is nonsense."

"It is?"

"I can't help you figure out where your road is leading you if you get rid of the signs, can I?"

Julia wasn't sure, but she shook her head.

"Now let's sit down. I want you to cross your legs, close your eyes, and hold your breath."

"What?"

Rosa shushed her with a hand. "Go on."

Sighing inside, Julia did as the seer instructed.

"Do not breathe until you have to. When you do, make sure it is steady and slow. Now count backwards from one hundred."

As Julia counted, she felt Rosa wave something around her face. When she took her first breath she smelled it: incense. It was hot and heavy in her lungs.

Julia began to have trouble somewhere around sixty-three. Everything started to jumble, so sixty-two preceded twenty-seven but followed forty-four. She tried to get back on track, but the numbers kept leaking out of her head.

"Julia, where are you in your counting?"

Rosa's voice sounded muffled. So did Julia's when she replied, "I lost count...I think."

"Where are you?"

"Where...am I?" Julia opened her eyes and saw that she was no longer in the seer's home. She was somewhere bright--so bright she had to close her eyes. "Rosa!"

"Everything is fine," the woman cooed. "Just relax and tell me what you see."

"Light." Julia squinted at her hands. Thick gray static obscured the corners of her vision, limiting her sight to a hazy circle. She looked down to her legs, and then to the cot upon which she lay. She followed it to the gray floor and was able to pick out the pattern of the carpet. Then her vision expanded. She was in a cramped, white room. It was shaking and swaying so violently she felt dizzy.

There was a window just before her, but a glare obscured whatever was on its other side. She put her head between her knees and tried to swallow the bile that was rising up her throat.

"Julia?"

Rosa's voice sounded far away. Julia's heart thrummed harder. Did she really leave the seer's home? Things like that couldn't happen. This couldn't be real. How was she going to--

"Control yourself."

Julia closed her eyes. The drum drum drum drum drum drum drum drum of the room was a little more tolerable that way.

"I'm in a small room," she whispered. "It's shaking. I think it's moving."

"Where is this room?"

Julia shook her head. "I don't know." She glanced at the window again. There was an easy enough way to find out, but she didn't trust the floor.

"Julia."

She took a deep breath and slid off the cot. The floor shook beneath her, and she felt like she was going to fall. "I'm going to the window," she gasped.

She stumbled several steps, then put her forehead against the glass and looked out. "A train." She was on a speeding train. It moved so fast she couldn't tell what was outside. White and green and blue and black and red and yellow and she was going to be sick.

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