The earth and the flame, p.16
The Earth and the Flame, page 16
“More already, my love?” She draws back to gaze at me with those stunning brown eyes.
I laugh breathlessly and shake my head. “I think I need a cigarette first.”
“Oh yes.” She gasps a little as I withdraw from her, wiggling her hips as I move away, as though testing how she feels. She meets my eyes with a satisfied grin. “I like your cock.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmmm.” She stretches her back and sighs. “I like them big.”
My cheeks flush a little, and she laughs when she sees. I get to my feet which is not exactly easy since my legs have turned to fucking jelly, but I manage to make it across to the mantlepiece, retrieving my cigarette case and lighting two while Juno climbs back up onto the couch.
I hand her one of the cigarettes as I sit down on the ground beside her, and she tucks a hand behind her head as she gazes at me.
“You’re so beautiful,” she murmurs. “The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”
I lean over and brush my nose along her ribcage, breathing her in. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but I never want it to stop.”
“Tal,” she says slowly, and I fucking love hearing her say my name.
“Mmm?” I look up at her.
“I don’t remember a lot, but I do know the old stories. About our kind.”
I chuckle. “Our kind? What do you mean, baby?”
“I mean that this isn’t allowed,” she replies, and flicks her cigarette into the ashtray I hold up for her. “You, and me. An angel and a demon. That’s forbidden, isn’t it?”
I suck in a deep drag of the cigarette, blowing the smoke towards the fire. “I suppose so, yes.” I don’t want the feeling to go away right now, this euphoria. But she’s right. This isn’t allowed. We’ve violated the blood covenant, and it never even occurred to me until this very moment.
“So we have violated the laws?” Her voice stays even as she says it.
I lean over her, stroking her forehead with my fingertips. “If we have, I don’t care.”
She smiles. “You would cause another Downfall for me?”
“Any time.” I brush a kiss against her jaw. “Besides, you think the Halls are going to bother about some nobody demon and an angel fucking?”
Juno giggles. “Hardly a nobody demon, my love. You’re one of the Draws of the Shadow Queen.”
“Still doesn’t matter,” I say with a shrug. “I’m not letting anyone take you away. This - it’s… I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. Ever.”
Juno stamps out the cigarette in the ashtray after I put out mine, and then pulls me up onto the couch, on top of her. I settle between her thighs, feeling that desire for her rising again.
She kisses me, but it’s tender, almost as though she’s questioning, letting me take the lead. My tongue caresses hers, my whole body tense with need.
“I love you,” she murmurs against my lips, and my world tilts on its axis.
I look down at her with wide eyes. “Y-you what?”
She shakes her head, smiling, and I swear I can see tears glistening in her eyes. “I love you. You’re a part of me. I can feel it. And I love you.”
“I love you too.” The words just slip out.
And it’s not because I just had the best sex of my entire fucking life. It’s because she’s right - I’m a part of her, and she’s a part of me. Two halves of a broken puzzle piece that never fit in before. I kiss her again, and again, drinking her in.
And then I take her to my bed. Where she belongs.
Dawn is barely breaking at the horizon when Juno’s screams tear me from sleep. She’s sitting up in bed, her arms cast out in front of her, her eyes so wide I can see the whites gleaming in the half light.
“I killed you,” she cries. “I killed you, you told me to do it, oh fuck, oh god.”
“It’s OK, it was just a nightmare.” I try to hold her, but she’s shaking and writhing out of my grasp, clawing her hands against her temples.
“You told me to.” She gasps in a breath. “You told me to kill you, and I stabbed you. I watched you die.”
“Juno, it’s OK,” I say, taking her in my arms. “Baby, you’re safe, I’m here.”
“It was him!” She screams before she collapses against me, her shoulders heaving as sobs wrack through her body. “Oh god, Tal, it was him. I remember. I remember.”
“What do you remember?” I cradle her head to my chest. “Juno, you're safe. No one can hurt you. What do you remember?”
She looks up at me, shivering, her hair sticking to her tear-stained face. “Gabriel. He cut off my wings.”
My veins ignite almost instantly as rage swells at the base of my neck. He knew her. That's why he looked like that. Because he fucking did this to her. I’m so filled with fury I can’t speak. I just hold Juno to me as she cries, as she slowly calms and begins to breathe again.
“He’s going to pay for what he did,” I say quietly, tipping her face up to mine. “I swear to you, he is going to suffer. And no one is ever going to hurt you again, do you hear me?”
She nods, squeezing her eyes shut. “I know.”
“Do you remember when he did it?”
“No, but I remember how it happened.”
“Do you want to tell me?” I ask quietly. I don’t want to push this.
She nods. “Someone - someone betrayed me. I only have an impression of it, that someone I loved betrayed me. I trusted them, and they delivered me to Gabriel. I think -“ Her voice breaks, and she sucks in a breath. “I think someone abused me.”
“Abused you?”
She sighs heavily, and pulls back from me a little. She takes my hand, clutching it to her chest. “I have this impression, this feeling of betrayal. Someone I trusted, they betrayed me. They were - angry.” Her eyebrows knit together as she tries to place her memories. “Something hadn’t worked, they told Gabriel it hadn’t worked when they brought me to him.”
My stomach constricts violently, I can almost feel her pain, I’m sure of it. I don’t know what to say, what to do, so I just keep hold of her hand.
She gasps suddenly, and a hand flies to her mouth. “Someone raped me.”
I have to calm down. I’m going to set fire to my damn bed. I take a deep breath, resisting the urge to sweep her into my arms because I don’t know if that’s what she needs. I don’t want to disrupt her memories, even if they’re painful. She wants to remember, she needs to.
“Someone raped me,” she repeats quietly, “and then they brought me to Gabriel. I was on a hard floor, it hurt when they threw me down. I was shackled. He cut them off. He was -“ Her breath hitches in her throat. “He was laughing while he did it.” Her voice breaks, and she slumps against me again.
I’m going to kill him. That angel is dead, he just doesn’t know it yet.
“I don’t know what happened after that,” she says after a while, once she can speak again, once the sobs have subsided enough. “After that it is just darkness, and pain.” She looks up at me. “And then you. Then there is just you, and your face, and your voice telling me I’m safe.”
I smile at her. “And you are safe.”
“I know.” She nods slowly. “I know I am. But… I’m so angry. I can’t remember. I can’t remember why, or when. I cannot remember any of it. Why?”
“You’re not ready for it yet,” I say softly. “You’re just not ready yet. It’ll come back.”
She puffs out a breath. “I’m a little frightened. Of what else there is to remember.”
“I know.”
She entwines her fingers with mine, lifting my hand with hers, and she looks at my hands. “Your flames, they have changed color?”
I nod. “Yes, they were orange, and now they’re red.”
“And your wings?”
“That's changed too. They were black smoke.” I turn my hand with hers, meeting her eyes. “You touched my flames, and they didn’t hurt you.”
“I just knew,” she says, withdrawing her hand from mine to put it on my chest. “I knew you couldn’t hurt me. It didn’t even occur to me, for a second.”
“That only happens when two people are bonded. Like Cora and Amryn, their flames, they can’t hurt each other.” I smile as I wipe her tears away, brushing the hair out of her face. “I am a part of you. I am.”
She nuzzles into me and lets out something that sounds almost like a sigh of relief. “Zhizn Moya, I am so happy you found me.”
“So am I, more than you can know.”
15
Amryn
I roll on to my side, watching Cora sleep next to me, naked, beautiful, peaceful. My hand strays over to her stomach, no sign of any bump yet. Our daughter’s growing in there though, safe and snug. I lean over, placing my lips on Cora’s belly.
“Can’t wait to meet you, little bug,” I whisper.
Cora stirs, her hands running over my head, holding me to her. “I’m sorry.” She murmurs. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Enough of that.” I move up to her mouth, kissing her gently. Her eyes are still closed, determinedly so, as though she’s holding on to the last traces of sleep. “I’m not angry. I’m excited.”
She smiles. “A girl.”
I lay my head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat. “A girl.”
Phoenix starts laughing in his room, and we both chuckle.
“Someone’s in a good mood.” Cora says.
“Granny, stop that!” Phoenix says amid peals of laughter.
I feel Cora hold her breath as I raise my head. “He’s doing it again.”
I climb off her, swinging my legs off the bed onto the ground, stepping into my sweatpants and standing up to pull them up my legs. “It’s fine, he’s just playing.” I give her a reassuring smile. “It’s nothing, really. He’s just got a wild imagination.”
Cora sits up, eyeing me uncertainly. “Amryn, he’s doing this all the time. We should talk to Fenella about it.”
“Why?” I try to stay jovial. This is nothing. The gnawing feeling of dread won’t go away, no matter how much I smile, though. “What’s Fenella going to tell us, hmm? A witch? What could she know?”
“Maybe she could tell us where he got it from?”
Maybe there was another witch there that day.
I shake my head. No. This is all ridiculous. “I’ll go and get Nix his breakfast. You get some sleep, you must be tired from all that baby-growing you’re doing.” She huffs out a breath as I leave the bedroom.
Phoenix is sitting on the floor in his room, playing with his train set, animatedly explaining how it works to the thin air beside him. His eyes light up as I walk in.
“Daddy, Granma and I playing with my trains!” He says brightly, turning to the empty space beside him. His face drops, and he looks around, as though he’s lost something. “Granma?” He stands up, looking around the room.
The icy feeling in my stomach is unbearable.
“Daddy, where Granma go?” Phoenix stretches out his arms for me to pick him up.
I scoop him up in my arms and put him on my hip. “Nixxy, I need you to tell me who you were talking to,”
“Granma,” he says, his green eyes earnest, “she sings to me.”
“Yeah, you told me that, but how do you know she’s your Granma, buddy? Did you see a picture of her?”
Phoenix shakes his head. “No, she tell me.”
“Is she your imaginary friend?” I lean my forehead against his chubby little cheek. “Are you making her up so you have a friend to play with?”
Phoenix grabs on to my hair and shakes his head emphatically. “No, Granma isn’t magiary. Granma’s real.”
“Sure, buddy. Come on,” I say, bouncing him on my hip, “let’s go and get breakfast.”
“Porridge!”
“No problems, buddy,” I reply, laughing as we walk to the kitchen together.
“But Daddy,” Phoenix says, grabbing my face, “Granma needa tell you something. For Uncy Tal.”
“Oh is that so?” I sit him on the kitchen counter beside the stove. “Does she want Uncy Tal to come play trains too?”
Phoenix giggles and clutches his hands to his mouth. “Silly, Daddy.” He shakes his head. “No, Granma said to Uncy Tal that she’s sorry.”
I open the cupboard to pull out the large glass jar holding the oats. “What’s she sorry for?”
“She hurted Uncy Tal.”
My eyes move slowly to my son, to his innocent little face as he gazes at me. “Granma hurt Uncle Tal?”
Phoenix nods, pointing to his chest, drawing a line across it. “Here. She said sorry. She didn’t mean to.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “What did she hurt Uncy Tal with, buddy? Did she tell you?”
Phoenix nods. “The green.”
I try not to show him how shaken I am. He has no idea what he’s saying. He’s just a kid. He’s making lucky guesses. He doesn’t know. He can’t know.
I pour milk and oats into a small copper pot on the stove, heating them for Phoenix, and I hear him start to hum a song as his little legs dangle over the edge of the counter.
A song I remember.
The song my mother sang to me when I was little. The song Fenella was humming as she healed me in her cabin.
I need to talk to Tal.
Tal takes a long drag of his cigarette as we walk to Fenella’s cabin. His hands are shaking, the smoke pouring from his lips in a heavy huff.
I look up at Arax, which has stopped smoking, not white smoke, not red. Nothing. It’s just stopped. Everything is getting too weird.
We both lift our hands to knock on Fenella’s door, eyeing each other awkwardly as we both pull our hands down.
“What do we even ask her?” I ask.
Tal opens his mouth to answer, and we both jump as the door opens. Fenella smiles out at us, a silky green turban on her head, wiry white hairs sticking out from under it. Her eyes go from one of us to the other.
“Why don’t you both come in?” She opens the door wider. “It’s so cold today.”
We both hesitate, then Tal walks in ahead of me. The cabin is warm, and smells of lavender. A fire crackles in the rounded cast iron stove in the corner of the room. Fenella gestures to the table.
“Come, boys, come and sit.” She crosses her legs one over the other, smoothing her velvet dressing gown with her pale, papery hands. “Now, what would you like to ask me?”
Tal takes a deep breath. “Did you know our mother?”
“Oh, oui, I did.” Fenella nods, her smile warm.
“Did you know - “ Tal’s eyes flash to me for a second. “Did you know if she was -“
“Mon cher,” Fenella interrupts, “I think it is always best to ask the question that will start the story, not the one that will end it.”
Tal glances over at me, and his brow furrows. He looks back at Fenella. “Where did you come from?”
Fenella leans back in her chair. “Do you have a cigarette for me?”
Tal opens his cigarette case, offering Fenella one. She places it between her lips, taking Tal’s hand so he can light it for her. Her wooden chair creaks as she leans back, gazing at the ceiling as she inhales. She rubs her cheek with her thumb, and looks back at us both.
“Many years ago now, I had to flee the Lowlands when war was declared,” she begins. “My husband, he was killed in battle, and I had to run with my children. It was a terrible time. Just terrible.”
“Where did you go?” I ask, but I can see from her face that she’s lost in memory.
“We walked, oh we walked,” she goes on, “for so many days, sleeping in fields. Trying to keep warm. It was bitter cold. My children would cry, they would beg for warmth, and I had to listen to them weeping. There was so little I could do.” She inhales again, the smoke furling from her mouth with a heavy sigh. “And then, we were attacked by another witch. She wanted to hurt my children, so I had to bind her with my magic.” She lifts her eyebrows, blinking rapidly as though trying not to cry. “But I was weak, half-starved, grieving. My magic was not strong enough to stop her completely. She was determined to cause my babies harm.”
“Why did she want to hurt your kids?” Tal asks.
Fenella shrugs, flicking her cigarette into the floral porcelain ashtray on the table. “I do not know. She was so very angry.” She shudders a little. “Her enchantment, she sent it after us as she was bound, as we ran away. It hit one of my girls, it hurt her. To this day I will never understand why…” She trails off, gazing out the window, her brow crinkling at the painful memories.
“Did she survive?” I ask.
Fenella nods. “Oui, she did.”
“So what happened to them? To your kids?” I don’t want to rush her, but the gnawing feeling of anxiety in my stomach is overwhelming.
“We had been traveling for many weeks,” Fenella says slowly, “and I knew we needed to seek help, we needed to seek refuge. My children, I knew no one would take pity on us, I knew we were feared. But I hoped, I so much hoped, that perhaps they could find refuge here. Even if I was cast out, or killed, at least my children would be safe.”
I shake my head. “But, if they wouldn’t take on witches, I don’t understand.”
“My children had very fortunate gifts, mon cher,” Fenella goes on, her fingers tracing the embroidery on the tablecloth. “Le mimetisme.”
“Le mime-“ Tal repeats, stopping as the foreign words sink in. “Mimics?”
Fenella nods, her sad smile casting over us both. “Oui.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“Mimics,” Tal says, looking over at me, “they can copy powers, no one would even know they weren’t that race.”
My chest is getting tighter and tighter in the warm cabin, my head full of questions and yet I have no ability to verbalize any of them.
“So, what did you do?” Tal asks.
Fenella swallows hard, her eyebrows rising as she takes a shaky breath. “I told them what they were to do. I told them to imitate what they must. To tell the demons I was merely a kind witch who had found them on the road, and had saved them. Perhaps, by some luck, someone would take pity on me.” A soft, sad laugh escapes her. “My girls, so very clever.”
