Chapter forty
His eyes pin me in place, pure amber fire in their depths. “You heard.”
“Her death is your death, and when you reach for the wolf and find only the serpent,” I repeat, “death is in the air and blood is in the water. That’s why you wouldn’t tell me how we’re connected. It’s not just in life. It’s in death. The death I can bring upon you.”
He reaches for me, his hands settling on my waist, and the heat that spills through my body with that connection has my fingers curling on his chest where my hands have landed—his really amazing chest, broad and well-muscled, like every part of him.
I curse the place my mind has gone and settle my resolve in place.
“No. No, I need to go to my room, and I can’t rift. I think—it must be the wine.”
“If you really wanted to rift, the house would help you.” His thigh shifts and presses against mine, and between the intimacy of our bodies and the rich musky scent of him, I can barely think. I need space. I need out of here.
“No, Micah. Stop. I need to think. I need out of here.” I call out to the house. “House, help me! I need to go to my room.”
I blink, and I’m inside my bedroom, but so is Micah, his eyes alight with mischief. “I guess you wanted me to come with you.”
“This crazy house thinks it knows better than me,” I say, and already, his hands are back on my waist, and mine are on his arms. “It doesn’t know better, Micah, and apparently you don’t, either.
Why are you here instead of distancing yourself?
Why are you not more freaked out by what Gabriella told you? ”
“The same reason I wanted you to read the books, not listen to my opinions. There are too many ways to interpret what the Knowledge Keeper said to freak out, most of which contradict at least one passage in a book I have here.”
“Her death is your death, meaning mine. There’s only one way to take that.”
His finger slides under my chin, and he tilts my gaze to his.
“There’s fire in your eyes, Ember. It flames in the back of your eyes when you’re angry.
I knew you had that skill before you knew.
You aren’t going to die. Neither of us will let that happen.
” And then he’s cupping my face, his mouth slanting over mine, his lips as warm as sunshine splaying across the sandy beach.
I moan as his tongue licks against my tongue, and I don’t know how it’s possible, but he tastes of the ocean and salt in the wind.
He tastes like this place, and I wonder if I do, too, or if it’s just the wine messing with me, drugging me.
He folds me closer and molds our bodies together, and everything inside me purrs with the sensations our nearness creates in me. As if it knows this is where I belong.
He backs me up, and we hit the pillar of the bed, and the jolt is enough to have Gabriella’s words replay in my mind again.
Her death is your death, and when you reach for the wolf and find only the serpent, death is in the air and blood is in the water.
That must mean Jeremy kills him once we leave this place.
No, I think. No. My hands press against Micah’s shoulders, and I drag my mouth from his. “No, Micah. No. We both know the serpent is still waiting for me. We both know what that means.”
“I’m not afraid of Jeremy, Ember.”
“Here. What happens when we go back to the battlefield of Earth? What then? Will we just stop wanting each other?”
“Why would we try? I told you, we’re stronger together.”
“And I told you, until we’re not. Once we do this, there’s no turning back. I feel it, Micah. I feel you too much. Maybe it’s just the connection we share to this place seducing us, seducing you into risking too much for me. We are dangerous together. We can’t do this, do us, until we fix this.”
He cups my face, and I don’t mean for it to happen, but in utter defiance of my declarations, my elbows soften, and I sink closer to him. I feel so small and delicate with Micah and somehow as mighty as a dragon whose fire will one day be as lethal as her enemies.
“We got this, sweetheart,” he promises. “Good is supposed to win, not evil. There is no passage in any book you will find that wishes that failure on us.”
“There’s only the one me, though, Micah. And there’s only one you. Teach me to fight. Take me to the river and the tree. And when I’m free of him, we’re free, because I will never choose him over you, over the light.”
His hands are back on my face, and he stares down at me, long seconds stretching wide and long before he kisses me hard and fast and says, “Meet me at the overlook by the lighthouse at dawn. Don’t eat. I’m going to take you someplace special. Goodnight, Ember.” And then, he’s gone.
Despite the buzz from the wine, I don’t sleep for hours after Micah leaves, and I give up even trying.
With a small lamp and a dozen candles flickering about the room, I scour the books, seeking the meaning of the message Gabriella delivered to Micah.
Even with the house helping me, producing volumes of books and directing me to specific pages, I find Micah was right on this hunt leading me nowhere solid.
The many ways to interpret where my existence leads are too broad for proper interpretation.
When I finally lie in the bed, I stare at the ceiling for a ridiculous amount of time, and when I fade into slumber, I slip into what feels like an alternate universe.
I’m standing in front of a gold towering throne, the man with blood-red wings is positioned in front of it but not sitting in it.
He’s tall, broad, and striking, with chiseled features and an angelic presence that is somehow still almighty warrior. And his eyes are crystal blue.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“Who I am doesn’t matter. What you are, does.”
“What am I?”
“You know what you are. He knows, too, but that won’t be enough to save him.”
“Save him from what?” I ask urgently.
“You.”
I gasp as I’m thrust into darkness, and I sit up in the bed, glancing around the room to find the flicker of candles casting shadows on the walls.
I glance at the clock on the nightstand to find it’s just before sunrise.
I’m late getting up, and I throw away the blankets and swing my legs to the side of the bed.
Desperate for answers, needing to know who the man with the red wings is, I call out to the house for the book with an answer, but nothing happens.
Maybe he’s just someone my mind created, my subconscious telling me I did the right thing by pushing Micah away.
The closer we become, the more dangerous I am to him.
No more kissing, I vow, and hurry toward the shower, where I do nothing but think about kissing him.
Good thing there is nothing romantic about combat training, so I dress appropriately—black fatigues and sturdy boots with a matching jacket that fits tight to my body, and of course, my blade at my thigh.
I appear on the overlook in the middle of a gust of cold air to find Micah dressed similarly to me, also in black fatigues, and I’m ridiculously proud of my good judgement over choice of clothing. I guess I just need the little wins right now, and maybe they can then become big wins.
“Hi,” I greet.
“Hi,” he says, his voice low with a hint of gravel, the night before heavy between us, and I can’t help but notice the one-day shadow stroking his jawline that’s remarkably hot on him.
He’s devastatingly male, and I’ve already seen he’s just as devastatingly deadly.
He can easily handle some girl who thought she was a human and barely knows her own powers, I tell myself.
Maybe the serpent would make me equal to him in battle, but good will always win.
My grandpa used to say that to me. I wonder now if he had a reason for drilling that in my head.
“Sleep well?” he asks.
“Never worse.”
“Same,” he says, and offers me his hand. “Let’s go to breakfast.”
Just the idea of touching him has my heart racing, and yet something deep inside me almost purrs like the cat I am not.
I am a wolf. He is a cat. Isn’t that yet another contradiction?
I press my hand to his, and the wind rushes around us, almost as if this place screams with either pleasure or pain over our connection.
“It likes us together,” he says.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Close your eyes and let it speak to you.”
I do as he says, and warmth spreads over me, and it feels as if sunshine is splaying its rays over my face, and when I open my eyes, we’re no longer on the cliff. “Welcome to my favorite place in Elysium.”
The rush of water has me turning to find a crystal blue cove with the most stunning waterfall I’ve ever seen, the glint of what looks like diamonds seeming to glisten in the water as it falls. “It’s stunning.” Barely able to take my eyes off of it, I glance over at Micah. “What is this place?”
“It’s called Diamond Bay, and yes, those are diamonds in the water.”
I blink at this unexpected news. “How is that even possible?”
Amusement lights his eyes. “You know that answer.”
I laugh. “Okay, I know you’re thinking I’m a damn slow learner, but I do get it. Magic is the answer.”
“Exactly. Hungry?”
I nod eagerly, and my stomach growls as if adding the exclamation point as I say, “Very hungry.”
He chuckles at the rumble and lifts his hand, and a table and chairs appear beneath what I believe to be a honeysuckle tree, which shouldn’t be in season, not with the chilly temps, but I don’t ask how this time. The answer will always be the same.
Magic.
It’s that moment, with that thought, that blue butterflies glimmer about, their wings glowing as they flutter all around me, and when I lift my hand one of the biggest and most vibrantly colored of them all lands on my fingers.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “They’re incredible.
” For reasons I cannot explain, tears well in my eyes, and I glance over at Micah to find the butterflies on his hand as well.
“Would they do this if I had the serpent in me?”
“There is no serpent that can ever come here. And the butterflies are why I brought you here. They’re drawn to you because you’re connected to Elysium the way I am.”
“They won’t do this with the others?”
“No. They’ve tried. Gabriella has come here a dozen times trying to get them to pay her attention. Silas almost as many.”
Both our butterflies flutter away, and I am smiling inside and out. “I loved that. It was so special.”
“Yes, but they clearly knew it was time to eat.”
I laugh. “You want to fatten me up before taking me out to the battleground to slaughter?”
“We’re going to start by practicing your fire, so the only one in jeopardy is me. I’m hoping your belly being full will make you less angry and less likely to burn me alive.”
My smile disappears. “Don’t joke about things like that.”
“Don’t be so serious, sweetheart. We’ll both be just fine.
” He captures my hand and leads me to the table, and like a perfect gentleman you’d never imagine killing a demon, he holds my chair for me.
I am admittedly charmed and intrigued by the many sides to Micah.
I’ve seen him acting as Overseer, a great leader, as a friend to his people, and as a man who is both brave and tender.
He claims the seat across from me, and the platters in front of us remain covered.
He lifts a silver pot and fills my cup, steam billowing off of the brew.
“This is coffee made from the beans grown in the Kingdom of Nephilim. You’ll find it a bit nutty and sweet.
We have cows there, so the creamer is just creamer.
” He lifts another silver container and pours cream into his cup before offering it to me.
I accept and ponder what he’s just shared. “You have cows. Why does that seem so odd to me?” I tip the cream into my cup.
“The unknown doesn’t easily mix with the commonplace.” He lifts his cup. “Try it.”
I do as he’s bid and sip, and he’s right, it’s both nutty and sweet. “It’s quite delicious. I love it. Thank you for sharing this with me.”
“There’s more,” he says. “I thought it might help you to experience a bit of the world that is your true world.”
“This one?”
“Ultimately, we both hold origins to the kingdom.” The covers to our plates disappear, and I find a plate of waffles with some sort of fruit I’ve never seen.
“Evos!” I exclaim excitedly and glance between my plate and him. “Are these evos? The fruit Gabriella loves?”
“That’s right,” he says, a smile curving his lips. “And we have wheat, but it’s a bit nuttier as well, which in my opinion makes for a hell of a waffle.”
I dig into the deliciousness, and Micah beams with his pleasure over my reaction to the meal.
While we enjoy the meal, he shares stories of the “motherland,” as Silas calls it, where there are winding rivers of crystal blue and fields of flowers in colors ten times more vibrant than any human would ever imagine.
We’re just finishing up our meal when I bring up the night before, but not the part where we were all over each other. “I really enjoyed meeting your people.”
“They’re your people, too,” he corrects, “and not because of me. I felt them lean into you.”
“That means a lot to me. I’m not going to let any of you down.”
“No one thinks you will.”
“Did you tell them what Gabriella said?”
“No. And she won’t, either.”
There’s a twist in my belly. “Because it will upset them?”
“No need to have anyone obsess over what we don’t understand. Better to focus on what we can affect, which is you learning to control your powers so we can head to the Amherst River.”
“And the Diviner who wants something from you.”
“I told you, I’ll handle her.” He stands up, and I follow him to my feet. The table disappears. “Time to play with fire.” A cauldron filled with water appears between us.
He wants me to create fire while my nerves are fire. “I’m afraid to do this by the water. I don’t want to hurt anything living in there.”
“That’s why we build a protective shield.” Magic lances the air, and what feels like energy begins to form all around us until we’re encased in magic. “Now the world out there is safe.”
“What happens if I create a fire and we catch flames?”
“The magic field protects us and encases us, too.”
“Make it larger. Give me room.”
He holds up his hands on either side of him, and our space expands, but not enough. “More,” I say, and he obliges.
When I have a broad berth to work with, I sit down in front of the cauldron and start chanting the spell.