The Binding (2 page)

Tolan walks up and kneels beside us. He reaches out to her face and touch es where the arrow had nicked her. Within seconds, the wound closes. Only a pink scratch remains. I know that within a day or so, it will disappear completely.

“
It’s only a scratch . W
hy did she collapse ?” asks Tolan. I look over at my brother, thankful for once that he disobeyed my wishes to be alone with Lily. I shake my head unsure.

“I don’t know , ” I reply. “She passed o ut at the sight of you, rather tha n from any wound that I can see.”

“We
ll, that’s not very flattering considering I’m better looking than you are,” Tolan says, searching her face. “She is beautiful. She doesn’t seem to have her height, but she has her mother’s coloring. She’s definitely Senestra’s daughter. Her brother being here further confirms it.”

“
T
hanks to you, he didn’t succeed in kill ing her . I s uppose Velesi owes you a debt, b rother.” I continue to look at the girl. There is a feeling of connection to her.
The feeling pisses me off. I don’t want it.
I don’t want anything more to do with her except for what’s needed for Velesi.

“
And you, you also owe me a debt,” says Tolan breaking into my thoughts.
After a moment he quietly adds, “You know that Kalis was never meant to be in your future.”

Tolan rises and stands before me, waiting for my response. He knows of my feelings for Kalis, but he also knows I will honor the treaty between the clans.
I glare at him until he takes a step back.

I lift the girl and feel a pang of guilt in my handling of her earlier. She weighs no more than a feather.
I’m surprised that I didn’t knock her out when I took her down . I look her over once again.
Upon c loser inspection , I can see her pale skin, clear and flawless. Her hair i s in a ponytail, but loose locks frame her face. Like her hair, her lashes are dark in contrast to her pale skin. They seem like soft bars locking up her eyes denying me what I want to see, their color. I look at t he pink scratch under her eye and i t fills me with surprising rage.
It’s just a cut, why am I so outraged?
Is it because of the thought of Lucas attempting to kill his own sister ―
who was unarmed and innocent?
Innocent?
I think about that for a moment. Maybe, but she’s still Lucas’ sister.

*

I wake with a start. The scream that i s desperate to escape is caught in my throat , while s trong hands rough ly shake me by my shoulders . When I open my eyes, an annoyed face peers back at me. It takes me a moment to remember who it belongs to. My rescuer shakes me again. He’s close enough now for me to see that his eyes are green , intense and annoyed.

“Hey!” I cry out as I try to pry myself out of his hold. “What the hell! Stop it !”

He
roughly releases me and moves to the arm chair on the other side of the coffee table .
I’m home and lying on the sofa in our small living room . The room seems even smaller with him in it . The house belongs to Marilyn Schell, my foster parent who works with the city's social services department. I've been with her since I was fourteen.
She took me in the day after Lucas went missing. Maybe it was the pathetic way I looked when they brought me into her office; or maybe it was because I had no t spoken a word to anyone since the night before . Whatever the reason, she took pity on me . She promise d that day she would find me a good foster home. She started that morning, and worked well into the evening. I sat waiting in her little office with her. Finally, she gave up for the day, deciding t o try again the next morning. It was too late to take me to the shelter, so she took me home, fed me and put me to bed in her spare room. This has been home ever since. Marilyn didn’t just bring me home ―
she saved my life.

I glance over at the picture of Lucas and me on the side table. It was taken on our birthday, my fourteen th , and Lucas’ eighteenth.
E
ach year we would celebrate with hot fudge sundaes . Julia, my best friend even back then, was al ways our special guest . Julia took the picture after a community league basketball game where I had just made the winning basket. W
e were all looking forward to celebrating later that evening . I t was one of the happiest days of my life …
the last day I was ever happy. Lucas never made it to the deli near our home. Julia and I waited until her parents came to pick her up.
T
hey gave me a ride and when they realized Lucas was not home, they decided to stay with me until he returned .
When he still didn’t show b y midn ight, Frank Chase, Julia’s step dad , called the police. Lucas had disappeared without a trace.

Everything that happened earlier tonight floods my mind. Lucas. What was he doing here? Where has he been all these years? And why did he appear out of no where?
Even worse, why did he try to kill me?
My head is throbbing.
I rub at my temples, trying to relieve the pain .

I sense the
stranger sitting in our small armchair waiting.
I turn to him only to find him watching me intently.
As we sit staring at each other , I feel a connection between us. I can '
t explain it, nor do I understand it, but I feel as if I know him.
H
e gives me a derisive smirk.
I roll my eyes at him . I throw my legs off the sofa, but as soon as I stand, he stands. I give him a puzzled look , while he stares back at me daring me to make a move.
Make a move? What are we, in a cowboy movie?
Again, I look at t he top of his head and imagine him wearing a cowboy hat.
He’s still wearing the black beanie, but I can see that his hair is a sandy brown color. I also now see that he’s young, maybe a year older than me ; but I’m not sure . I t’s hard to tell.

I sit back down on the sofa and he sits back down on the armchair. I stand again, and he does the same. I sit back down and , he does the same again, but only this time he takes his time sitting. I try to stand again, but he’s on his feet. With light ning speed, he’s on me, pushing me up against the back of the sofa .
He’s only inches from my face. For some insane reason, I’m tempted to lean in and touch his nose with my own. The thought almost makes me giggle, but I decide against it. W
hen I look up and meet his eyes , he seems extremely annoyed. After a moment of glaring at me, and w ithout a word, he’s off of me and back in the arm chair. He has that smirk back on his face, satisfied that he has made his point.

I stay pinned into the sofa, stunned by how fast he moves. Staring at him, a memory from tonight slowly returns to me. The knives flash in my mind ’
s eye, the lightning speed with which he threw them at Lucas and the way Lucas fell to his knee s.
The rage comes quickly. Without a thought, I fly straight at him . B
efore I can reach him, he’s on his feet and catches me head—
on. As he roughly twists me around, I swing up hard with my elbow landing a lucky hit to his jaw. The contact makes a solid thud.
I pray that I broke something. With my back against him now, I kick hard at his legs. I continue to struggle, trying to hit him with my elbows hoping to connect again. Within seconds, he pins my arms down and widens his stance so that my kicks miss him. Through my rage, I hear a strange sound from behind me.
I realize he’s laughing! This onl y makes me struggle even harder.

“You killed my brother!”
My rage turns into a winded sob.
I feel his grip loosen and with a final effort, I push away from him and land on my knees.
Although the fight is no longer in me, my emotions take over.
I hang my head hoping my hair will cover my face. As I try to catch my breath, I feel the tears start to well up . The last thing I want is to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry , but there are some battles you just can’t win.

*

I watch her cry wretchedly on the floor , and I feel like the bastard she must think I am .

It
wasn’t until she accused me of killing her brother that I realized why she hesitated at the park . W
hy she moved toward him instead of away from him, even though Lucas had an arrow pointed at her heart.
When she just stood there, as Lucas released that last arrow, I wanted to kill her myself. And, yet, I have to ask, would I have been able to turn my back on my own brother in the same situation?

I remember the way she looked at him . When she finally realized what he was trying to do, it was like watching a flame go out. My reaction to her sorrow surprised me. Lily was not what I expected. I was told that she would be a timid bride. I rub at my chin where she caught me with her elbow and wonder where that timid girl is . O
ne moment she’s as helpless as a newborn, but the next she’s a raging bull.
Now, she’s both vulnerable and untouchable.

My thoughts drifted back to watching her sleep. Her expressions revealed that in her dreams, she struggled to outrun whatever demon was chasing her. But, even when her face was soft in sleep, there was a kind of sorrow that enveloped her. When she cried out and struggled harder , I wasn’t sure what to do s o I pulled her up and tried to wake her. Upon waking, instead of thanking me, she yelled at me as if I was the demon chasing her .

I gr
o w more irritable. Finally, unable to take any more of her sobbing, I decid e to shock her out of her misery.

I cal
l for Cessa.

*

I don’t
know how long I was on the floor , but through it all, he never made a move. I take in a deep breath , thinking about how to regain a little dignit y , when something huge, sleek and black enters the room. Its quiet stealth brings me to attention . When I see what it is, not only do I scream, but I’m up off my knees and in the stranger’s arms. I nearly climb onto his shoulders in an attempt to get as high as I can. Hi s annoyance is obvious , but I don’t care.

“Cessa
, stay!” his deep , commanding voice is too much for our small living room. The black stealth that is now sitting in front of us and looking at me curiously is a giant panther .
At least I think it’s a panther. I know they a re big cats, but this cat is unnervingly huge ! My rescuer seems to be a bout six foot-three, maybe four, while his cat’s head almost reaches his shoulders.
And she’s even sitting on her h a unches .
She thinks we a re playing a game because she lifts one of her huge paws and tries to swat at me .
I yelp and try again to climb over his shoulder and get behind him, not that it would matter. The cat is so huge all she has to do is stand on her hind legs and swallow me whole!

“Will you stop it!” he demands as he tries to hold me still.
That only makes me throw my arms around his neck and squeeze as hard as I can, hoping to melt into him , escaping from the giant black paw.
I hide my head in his neck and start speed praying.

“My name isn’t ‘
God ’
! I t’s Tharin,” he says as he tries to pull my arms from around his neck.
I hold on even tighter and start to struggle again. He finally lets out a hard sigh and sits down taking me with him. Then something unexpected happens. He begins to rub my back, in a soothing up -
and -
down motion. I’m breathing hard, and I’m not sure if it’s from my struggles or from the sensation he’s sending through me. He whispers something softly and I feel my body relaxing.

“She won’t hurt you, you know.
She’s just curious about who you are.” His voice is soothing.
I feel myself loosen my hold on him as I pull away enough to look up at him. He is young, and he is beautiful. I want to reach up and trace the line of his jaw, his lips and his eyes…
his eyes ! Startle d , I realize he’s looking right at me, and un like his soothing voice, there is no gentleness in those green eyes. There is only annoyance and impatience. To cover myself, I do the only thing I can think of.

Pushing against him, I shout defensively, “Let go of me! What do you think you’re doing?”
And being such the gentlem an that he is, he does as I ask and pushes me off him, roughly. I hit the floor with a thud, c oming face to face with “Cessa.”
I can’t breathe and I move back closer to Tharin’s legs, grabbing at his knee, hugging it to me …hard!

“Cessa.” The voice from the kitchen door is not as booming, but still commanding.
Tharin’s look-alike walks slowly into the room. He stops near the entrance and with a crooked smile takes in the scene before him.
Tharin sitting annoyed in the armchair, with me clutching onto his knee for dear life. T
he big cat sits staring at the both of us waiting to find out what the game is.

Tharin’s
double walks over to the small desk in the corner and sits down. At first glance , I thought he was identical to Tharin, but there are small differences . H
is hair is li ghter and shorter than Tharin’s, tuck ed under a beanie of his own , and its length falling just above his shoulder. He seems fit, but his frame is not as broad, and Tharin is slightly taller. The biggest difference between them is their eyes. Tharin’s are green, burdened and guarded, while his twin’s are also green , but clear and open . I can’t explain how I can r ead these differences, but they a re clear to me. Whatever connection Tharin and I share, it seems that everything about him is apparent to me . Then again, what do I know?
I’ve only known the two of them for …
what ? A bout an hour?