Chapter 13 #3
I narrowed my eyes. Quick as a flash, I leaned over the grotesque’s side and grabbed a bit of the concrete rubble the creature had broken off the lighthouse when it landed. Then I leaped off the grotesque’s back, dove around Finn, and slammed the concrete into Darin’s head.
He dropped to the ground.
Finn grabbed me from behind and spun me around. I kicked him. I slammed my head into his. I went to punch his throat and jab my fingers into his eyes.
He held me immobile. “Stop. Mari. Stop.”
It was almost exactly what he’d said to me right before I stabbed him in the heart. We both held still, imprisoned by the memory.
“I’m not Mari,” I said, shaking my head—shaking all over. At least, I wasn’t the Mari he thought I was. “Touch Jacob, and I’ll kill you. Touch Griff again, and I’ll kill you. Touch me, and I’ll kill you. Now, undo this tsunami, or—”
“You’ll kill me?” he asked, an odd expression on his face.
“Yes.”
“I thought we already did that. It didn’t stick. Do you remember?” His voice was low, and he looked at me like he did when he used to leave daisy chains and packs of bubblegum for me, just hoping I’d pick them up.
“Undo the tsunami, Smith.”
“Finn,” he corrected. “Did the wind tell the truth? Was killing me an accident? Do you remember who I am?”
“A conjurer. The Smith. Undo it. Now.”
His brow wrinkled. I wanted to reach up and smooth the lines away. Why had he killed Philoneas? Had he really gone after Griff? He hadn’t denied it.
The grotesque, tired of waiting, snapped its stone teeth at us.
Finn stared at me for a moment longer, indecision in his gaze. “Don’t unravel my illusion, no matter how it looks.”
“You want me to trust you,” I said, laughing.
He shrugged then held his thumb to his second and third fingers. He twisted his hand.
A thousand knots flew together. Reef knots and bowlines. Half-hitches and figure eights. The abyss formed again, but this time, it was a hundred times bigger. It slipped like a net beneath the column of water and the giant mosasaur.
The wave was shorter now, twenty-five feet instead of thirty. The monster had been eating the waves. Every now and then, the boatmen threw plumes of steaming water at Jacob, and he batted them aside with a sharp gust of wind.
So the men were with the Smiths. It made sense. They used simple overhand and bowline knots. They were probably one of the dozen mercenary cousins still in the city.
Finn ignored them. His brow was covered with sweat as he carefully slid the black abyss below the water.
Then his lip curled, and he twisted his hand again.
The column of water spun. At first, it was a slow clockwise rotation.
But then it sped until it was as swift as a whirlpool being sucked down a drain.
Jacob threw his hand out, shock splashed over his face. He twisted his fingers and conjured a giant mechanical bird. It grabbed him and lifted him into the air.
The boatmen’s cries were swallowed by the roar of water draining into an endless abyss. The boat was swept up in the violent current and then swallowed by the waves. At the last second, the boat was lifted into the air and soared free, crashing through water and disappearing into the fog.
In seconds, the giant wave was gone. Only flat, crashing waves remained.
Finn’s expression was hard. He took in fast breaths as if he’d just sprinted five miles. Sweat dripped down his face.
Above, Jacob’s mechanical bird soared past, and he shot me a look.
All right? he seemed to ask.
I nodded. All right.
He smiled, and then both he and the metal bird disappeared, wrapped in a cloud of illusion.
Finn was still gripping my arms. He was holding me so close I could feel the quick rise and fall of his chest. I noticed he didn’t smell like cranberries and allspice anymore. Instead, he smelled like the salt of the ocean and thunder rumbling over a grassy meadow right before a summer storm.
Had death cured him of solange? Did he not need to take it anymore? But if not, then why was one eye still navy and silver?
Electricity crackled around us, arching with lightning intensity. The fog was beginning to clear, blowing away in great gusts of summer wind. Although the static in the air was fading, it was still pulsing between us.
Finn reached up and ran a single finger down my cheek, trailing the calloused tip over my skin until he stopped at the edge of my mouth. Slowly, he traced my bottom lip.
“There,” he said. “I saved the city. I didn’t kill Jacob. I haven’t harmed Griff. I’ve only touched you. Mari, give me a sign that you remember. That you came back. That you’re you.”
I stood on my tiptoes. Finn was always taller than me, no matter what body I came back in. This time, I was average height. Average everything. But he was still tall enough that the top of my head only came to his chin.
I put my hands on his shoulders.
Finn stared at me. One eye was clear; the other sparked with lightning. He watched me with an intensity that sucked me in and held me captive in its grip.
I licked my lips and caught his pointer finger with a gentle nip. He stared like a man watching his last sunset.
“Finn,” I whispered, and I didn’t know whether it was a plea or a promise. It should’ve been a warning.
Slowly, I pressed my mouth to his. He tasted of salt and sea.
Of love, which I didn’t want and couldn’t have.
He tasted of warm summer nights and cool breezes.
Lying in the park, his arms around me as we watched the birds soaring overhead.
He tasted of popcorn at the movies. Coffee at all-night diners and dancing in the dark.
He tasted of forget-me-nots and daisy crowns.
He tasted like my best friend and my husband and . . .
I bit his lip, drawing blood.
He groaned. A soft, vibrating sound that cascaded through me as he gripped my hips, yanked me closer, and lost himself.
I’d been slow. Licking, tasting, teasing. At my bite, he took over. Slanting his mouth over mine, he attacked my lips with a single-minded ferocity. Suddenly, he was in me, with me, devouring me. His mouth, his hands, his heat.
He set a rhythm that was as violent as a storm and just as mesmerizing. It rocketed through me and set me on fire. I was burning. I was a violent inferno. I was . . . scalding with pain.
I tugged out of the maelstrom and separated the pain in my blood from the pain of kissing Finn.
My locked door—all the love was leaking through hair-thin cracks. I shoved at it. Shored it up and shut it tight. All the while, Finn pressed kisses to my lips, tangled his tongue against mine, and murmured my name.
Jagger’s blood seared me. Don’t let any conjurer know you care.
“Mari,” Finn breathed. “Mari. I love—”
He cut himself off, his words stopping on a stunned grunt.
I held the knife’s hilt where I’d shoved it into his back. I’d have shoved it deeper, but Darin was there. He’d woken up and grabbed my wrist just as I’d been about to slam the blade home.
As it was, the knife was an inch deep.
I jerked my hand free of Darin’s grip.
“There’s your sign,” I said, staring into Finn’s bright eyes.
He brushed a gentle hand across my cheek, then he winced as Darin pulled the dagger free.
“Mari,” Darin said. “So it is you. Looks like you came back a psychopath. Nice. It’s too bad. I used to like you.”
Finn stiffened and moved a fraction of an inch, placing himself between me and Darin. I grinned over his shoulder. I swore, if he called me a creature or asked me to make him an omelet, I’d knock his head off his shoulders.
The fog was clearing. The blue sky and the sun had nearly pierced through the mist.
Below, there was the distinct sound of a man’s groan.
Justice.
Darin’s eyes narrowed. He turned toward the railing.
Finn held me by the waist. Even after I’d stabbed him, he refused to let me go.
Well, even after I’d killed him, he refused.
“Mari,” he said, his voice urgent, “I’m coming for you. Okay? I’m coming.”
I shivered. It was too much like the warning he’d given Griff.
“You shouldn’t have killed Griff,” I said, jabbing his kidney. At his indrawn breath, I broke free of his hold.
Darin held his hand out, conjuring a nasty surprise for Justice.
I ripped it free, untying his knots.
Then I leaped onto the grotesque’s back and dove toward the shoal.
Justice had struggled to his feet. He was white-faced, with a trail of blood dripping down his forehead.
As the grotesque skimmed over the outcropping, Justice ran across the jutting rocks and jumped onto its back.
He gripped me around the waist and held tight.
The wind rushed around us, and I spurred the grotesque higher. When I looked back, Darin had jumped down to the shoal, but Finn was staring after me.
I’m coming, his stare promised. I’m coming for you.
But was he coming to save me, or to destroy me?