Taken by the Beast (The Conduit Series Book 1) (32 page)

And just like that, the dread and worry that had laid so heavily on my shoulders melted away. Against all odds, we had won. There were no more best friends’ little brothers hoping to bleed me dry. It was just Abram, me, and eternity.

And a third beast we still hadn’t found … 

“What about the other beast?” I asked warily. “I spilled a lot of blood …”

“You spilled enough blood for Satina’s spell to block that beast for a month,” Abram said with a low chuckle. “But I’ll get him … or if that fails, I’ll just toss you a sword next time he’s around.”

His simplicity in that moment solidified everything I felt about him. “I love you,” I whispered, letting him fold me into his embrace. “You don’t have to say it back,” I said against his chest. “I know it’s too soon for you. Just know that it’s true. Just know that I feel it.”

He tensed up and, when my mind slowed down enough to register the quickly greying sky, I remembered why.

“The curse,” I whispered. “It’s permanent now.”

“Not yet.” He caressed his hand down my back. “When the sun comes up.”

I held him a little tighter. “There has to be something we can do,” I said, dreading my sentiment wasn’t true. “We’ve come this far.”

“We have,” he said, his hand tracing small circles at the bottom of my back. “Don’t worry about the curse. It doesn’t matter. This is who I am now. I’ve made peace with that.”

I tilted my head against his shoulder and listened to the beating of his heart. It was so strong now, so alive.

“Don’t you miss it?” I asked. “Being human?”

“I try not to,” he said, but his voice was quiet and strained. “But there are … things that I would love to experience again.”

“Like what?” I asked, lifting my head and meeting his gaze.

“Dreams,” he said ruefully. “I can’t—my kind doesn’t dream.” His eyes glazed over. “And that would be all right if not for my sister.” He bit his lip. “She died when I was twelve. Paintings were expensive then, and my family didn’t have any money. But I dreamt of her almost every night. It kept her face fresh in my mind.” He pulled my body back against his again, maybe so I wouldn’t see the pain etched into his expression. “I’m not sure I even remember what she looks like now.”

I kissed his chest and twirled my fingers through his. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” said a voice from behind me. “He does it to himself.”

Satina
.

I turned. She stood just a few feet away, although, floating might have been a better word for it. Every inch of her skin shone with light, and despite her few acts of kindness, I still found it odd that she wasn’t cloaked in shadows instead.

“Satina, don’t,” Abram growled.

“What is she talking about?” I asked, unease creating a pit in my stomach.

“Nothing,” Abram said. “Just ignore—”

“The curse is his to break, Supplicant. All the pieces are in play.”

“What does that even—”

But before I could even finish my sentence, it all fell into place. Like a runway show, the idea coming to life as finally the make-up is applied, the hair styled, the wardrobe divvied up. Where I could not see the designer’s vision before, it was all very clear to me now.

“Oh, God,” I murmured, my gaze rolling back to Abram. “You
do
love me.”

His eyes went wide, but the rest of his face steeled over. Still, I knew the truth. I had wormed my way into his heart, and he wouldn’t admit it.

“He has to say it, doesn’t he?” I asked, turning to Satina.

“Before the sun comes up,” she answered, looking at the almost bright sky. “He has two minutes.”

“Abram!” I said, spinning around to him.

He shook his head, tears gleaming in his eyes.

“I should have known,” I said. “I knew you couldn’t have kissed me like that, couldn’t have touched me like that, if you didn’t love me. I knew it was true.”

He cupped my face in his hands. “Charisse,” he said, his voice firm, “you need to let this go.”

“No way!” I said, pushing his hands away from my face. “You have a chance to be human. We have a shot at a real life. We can have a future. Abram, I know you feel it, all you have to do is say it.”

“Absolutely not,” he muttered.

“Don’t be so hard headed! What is your issue? You waited over a century for this. Please, I’m begging you. Just—”

“Is that what you think, Charisse? That we can just go skipping off into the sunset?” He waved his hand. “Dalton wasn’t the only one after you, remember? You’re a commodity. There’s always going to be someone out to steal what makes you special. Besides, Satina told me about the future. Your trials aren’t over, and that means neither are mine. You are always going to be in danger, Charisse. And I’m sure as hell going to make certain I’m able to save you.”

“I just saved you!” I shot back, incredulous. Ugh. I didn’t have time to deal with his sexist views right now, and I was kicking myself for not making more of an effort to get him over them sooner. “I can take care of myself. Surely you have noticed this by now!”

He scowled. “And if you do, then what good am I?”

“I love you, you moron. That’s what good you are. Now for the love of God, you’re running out of time! Stop being so goddamn self-sacrificing.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not a martyr, Charisse. If I’m human, if I can’t save you, then you’re gone. And what am I supposed to do then? Would you just expect me to go on without you? Because I have lived over a hundred years, and I have made it through things that would tear mortal men apart, but I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt, I would never make it through that. Not for a day. So no. I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for me. For me and for us.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips square against mine, and something in me shifted as we kissed. Gold light shimmered across him. The sun was up, the moon on the window was full. The curse was permanent.

He pulled away and took one of my hands gently in his own.

“Now I love you,” he said, and with his free hand, he swiped a tear off my cheek with his thumb. “And I always will. Now and forever.”

Two weeks later, they laid Dalton to rest. It took all I could do to sit there without squirming out of my own skin. He was a monster. He wanted me dead. If he’d had his way, I would be the one they were lowering into the ground right now, nothing more than a bloodless husk.

But the townsfolk didn’t know that. To them, sitting all teary eyed and justified, he had been a victim of Abram’s. Even if they still couldn’t quite put into words what Abram had turned into (and, as a result, were beginning to make stupid and mundane excuses about it) the narrative still stated the obvious. Abram was a murderer, a villain they had needed to bring to justice.

Even if he hadn’t been seen by anyone in town since that night.

Anyone but me, anyway.

Some believed he died and that wild animals had dragged off his carcass, but others thought he was still alive, out there, on the prowl, ready to strike again at any moment.

Because everyone knew about his place in the woods, Abram had been forced to hide out in an abandoned farmhouse in the next town over. It wasn’t much, but it was off the beaten path, close enough for me to stop by every day, and there was a basement with enough space to lock him in when the sun went down.

People were still after him, and they were looking for both a man and a monster. We couldn’t be too careful. Still, it was only a temporary solution.

Things at home didn’t get any better, either. Lulu was despondent after the death of her brother. And though she didn’t come out and say it, I could tell she blamed me at least in part for what happened. She knew that I had sided with Abram, and since the town never was able to confirm whether Dalton had died before or after they had supposedly killed Abram, for all she knew, Abram was responsible for her brother’s death.

Dalton was a hero not only to her, but to the entire town. And though I was a victim in their eyes as well, I was also a facilitator. And they weren’t going to let me forget it.

Doors got closed in my face. Children sneered at me. It was like the entire place was filled with Esters. New Haven had finally realized how much I didn’t belong here, and I absolutely agreed.

A week after Dalton’s funeral, I left town. Lulu was still talking to me. God bless her, she was trying to move past things. But I could hardly look at her. It was me who had snuffed the life from her brother’s eyes. And whether he deserved it or not, that fact weighed on me heavily.

“You’re like my sister, you know?” she’d said before the taxi pulled up to get me. “Nothing’s ever going to change that.”

There were tears in her eyes when she hugged me goodbye. And there were tears in mine when the cab pulled away.

I met Abram two days later on the island of Grimold. It was a tiny dot of a place in the Mediterranean that I had never heard of, but the instant I stepped off the plane, I knew I had made a good choice.

When Abram had first told me we were leaving, I hadn’t wanted to go. Not with a third beast still known to be in New Haven. But Abram promised me he would hunt that one down before meeting me in Grimold, and he’d held true to his promise. In a way, it wasn’t someone I knew being a beast that really scared me, though. It was that there were so many, complete strangers, insignificant in the scheme of themes yet ingrained in my life in the worst possible way.

But now was not the time to linger on those thoughts. Abram was finally here with me. New Haven was safe from the beasts and Abram was safe from New Haven. He stood on the tarmac, dressed in white, all tanned and rested, his hands hanging freely at his sides. Seeing him was like coming home, and his easy smile made me feel as though everything would be okay.

“What do we do first?” I asked after he gave me the sweetest, longest kiss of my entire life.

“Whatever you want,” he said, running his hands down my back and resting them near my big beautiful butt. “We’ve got the rest of our lives. All we have to do is live it.”

***

On our third day in Grimold, Abram took me for a walk along the ocean. The mist of all that had happened dissipated there. It was no match for the sun, sand, and sea. It was no match for the man standing next to me or for the way I felt about him.

“Tell me again,” I demanded, smiling and leaning into him.

“Again?” he asked with a secretive smile.

“You owe me,” I said, kissing his bare arm.

“I love you,” he said, and he dropped a kiss on my hairline. “I love you,” he repeated, kissing me again. “I love you. I love you. I love you. A thousand times over, Charisse, I love you, and I always will.”

Satisfied by his proclamation, I let my cheek rest against his shoulder, my fingers entwined with his, breathing in the smell of salt and sun on his warm skin.

This was my life now. Unending happiness.

And then I heard
her
.

“This sounds familiar.”

Satina’s voice was about as welcome as a hangnail. I spun around to find her standing along the shore in a fringe bikini. The crystal clear waves lapped at her feet, and she had one of those ridiculous drinks with the little umbrellas.

Abram’s body tensed against mine. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, his voice dropping to a protective growl. “How did you find us?”

“Two questions with but one answer,” she said, her voice lilting. “I told you fate wasn’t done with your little Supplicant here. There’s more to your story.”

“No,” Abram said flatly. “We are done with this, Satina. Leave now.”

“I could,” she said. “And I will. But that won’t change anything. These things will happen whether I’m here or not. So I suggest you hear me out and prepare while you still have time.”

I stepped forward, half terrified and half resolved to hear what she had to say.

“What?” I asked, crossing my arms in a poor attempt to stop my hands from trembling. “Skip the riddles and cut to the chase.”

“I have the answer to the question you never asked,” she said, tilting her head. “You know—how you used magic. Supplicants can’t use magic, Charisse. They can only facilitate it. And yet your blood performed magic without a Conduit to conduct a spell. Don’t you find that strange?”

“Well, I guess you were just wrong then,” I said, rolling my eyes.

She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Yes and no. I was wrong about
you
, but now I know why. You aren’t just a Supplicant, Charisse. You’re the bridge. You’re the fuel
and
the fire.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You’re not just a Supplicant. You’re a Conduit, too.”

I stepped back. “No, I’m not.”

“You are,” she insisted. “And you’ll either be the key to fixing this mess or the key to destroying our world, so I suggest you take what I have to say seriously. The hunt for you will not end here. Mystics all over the world have been prophesying about you, and it won’t be long before every Conduit on this planet knows who you are and what you are. And they will come for you.”

I shook my head, trying to will away everything she had said, but there was no unhearing her words. “Fine. Let’s say you’re right,” I said. “Then what happens now?”

“What always happens, Charisse. The next.”

“Enough,” Abram barked. “You promised me you would give us—”

“I already gave you time!” she shouted, a storm taking over her features. “I gave you as long as I could. There is no more time, Abram.”

Abram clenched his jaw, and he stepped past me, right up to Satina. His body was hulking compared to the body she had borrowed. “I said we’re done, Satina.”

“Uh-uh.” She didn’t even flinch. “Sorry, lover boy, but your romance will have to wait. What is will turn into what needs to be.”

“Great, more riddles,” I mumbled.

Just then, a mass fell to the shore, landing with a thud and bursting in warm red ribbons.

No. Not ribbons.
Blood
.

It splattered against my legs and the skirt of my sun dress. And that mass … it was a man. A very dead man, with two simple words carved into his forehead.

She sleeps.