Decisions, p.2
Decisions, page 2
The others watched in silence as he leapt magnificently into the air and came down on four legs, his muscles thrumming with excitement to be used again, the fading sunlight catching in his chestnut fur. The trudge across the valley had been a torture, fighting against every natural instinct to rip apart and heal. There had been several times he’d needed to catch himself, gripping onto the inside of his sleeves. Usually, it took more than a look at the girl by his side to bring him back again.
He certainly snuck quite a few.
Kiera stood a ways off from the others, stilling reflexively at the sight.
No matter how many times they had seen the transformation, a part of it never ceased to amaze. He was nearly as large as the hellhound. But there was something much sleeker about him, almost refined. He locked eyes with her for a single moment, like he was making sure she was still standing where he’d left, then he indulged them with a single howl, before vanishing into the trees.
The shadows swallowed the empty space behind him, leaving everything just as it was.
“You mustn’t be scary,” Eden chided softly.
Evander glanced up in surprise.
There was blood on his hands, and his fangs were pressed against his lip—having lowered involuntarily and completely escaped his notice. On the ground beside him was a chilling assortment of blades and other hastily-gathered items, each designed to help him in the grisly task ahead.
“I’m not scary,” he replied indignantly.
Priceless.
“You’re constantly scary,” the fae corrected, flashing the barest of smiles. Despite the ungodly stabs of pain, there was a part of him that warmed at the sight. That part tightened a little, though his tone remained just as light. “You scare me every day.”
The vampire turned without responding, continuing his abstract mission, never seeing the way Eden’s eyes shadowed after every step. There was such peculiarity to the way he was staring, it drew Kiera’s gaze as well, creating invisible lines between them. There were several times it looked like the fae was trying to get his attention; there were several times, it looked like he was demanding it. Staring with such unearthly intensity, it was a miracle the vampire didn’t feel the burn of his eyes.
“Kiera,” Evander called without looking, “fetch some water and boil it over the fire.”
She jumped in her skin, and hurried to do as he asked.
It wasn’t often the vampire issued commands, but none of that applied when the fae was involved; the man turned into an absolute tyrant. He was also tragically unable to delegate. No sooner had she found a suitable piece of timber, scorching it into shape and filling it with a trickle from the stream, than he’d leapt to his feet and appeared beside her to supervise—folding his arms with a shrewd expression as she placed it over the fledgling fire.
She cast a sideways glance, feeling his shadow loom over her. “You don’t trust me to boil water?” she asked a bit tersely.
He responded without a shred of inflection. “The others have given their verdict about your skills in the kitchen. I can attest only to the smell.”
Most days, she would have laughed in spite of herself, but the notion seemed utterly foreign and the smile cracked on her face. Instead, she pushed to her feet in silence, her eyes flitting back to the smoke on the horizon. A dark smudge of proof, laid forth before all the realm.
Five thousand, eight hundred, and forty-one.
The vampire followed her gaze for the briefest of moments, before turning back to the fire, staring at the water as if the mere force of his gaze would cause it to heat.
“That smoke isn’t going anywhere,” he said lightly, “it’s going to follow us for days.”
She nodded numbly, surprised when he continued.
“All day, I’ve been looking at it. You know what it makes me think?” He paused, waiting until she met his gaze. “It makes me think of that tent on the beach. And the little girl with the torn leg.” He looked back to the fire. “It makes me think of all those people you saved.”
She stared at him in silence, certain she’d heard wrong.
“Saved?” she finally repeated, the word shriveling on her tongue. “Are we looking at the same pyre? Remembering the same thing?” She forced in another breath, feeling like the very smell of it would choke her. “All those people are dead because of me.”
It helped to say it out loud. Or perhaps, it merely hurt.
That’s good. Better to ache, than be numb.
It was quiet a while, as the two stared at the crackling flames.
He wasn’t the sort to cushion hard truths, and she wasn’t in a position to accept, even if he had. No matter how much time passed, or distance they placed between, the fact remained:
That morning, each of those men had been breathing.
Then she’d lifted her hands...now they were not.
“A pyre,” he repeated softly. “I was thinking the same. But you have gotten it backwards, Kiera. Each of those marks the grave of a killer, instead of the scores of innocents they would have taken. Each of them marks a life saved.” He turned suddenly to face her, the fire at his back. “They had made themselves an army. An army that intended to do one thing. Take it from someone who carries the weight of more lives than he can remember, true innocents...” He paused a lingering moment, then shook his head. “It is a different kind of smoke.”
She blinked at him in amazement, stunned to discover there were tears in her eyes. Since they’d left the smoldering ruins behind them, some part of her had been trying desperately to cry.
She thought the fire had burned them all away.
There was a sudden rustling in the forest, then the ferns parted and a giant wolf came bounding through. It paused just long enough to shed its chestnut fur and pick up a pair of trousers, before Jesse walked across the clearing, holding a bouquet of iridescent flowers in his hand.
Half-crushed flowers. And his walk was a bit unsteady.
We didn’t think it through.
“Not quite as fast as a vampire,” he admitted, bits of moss and bracken falling out of his dark hair. “But trust me when I say, they were a little hard to reach.”
“It would have been easier if you had thumbs,” Evander replied, but he took the flowers with a look of deep gratitude, pressing them into Eden’s hands. “Do not be sparing,” he warned gently, watching as the fae lifted them to his face. “There is no reason for you to keep awake.”
“You wish me to sleep?” Eden laughed painfully, giving them a fragrant sniff. “And miss whatever tragedy is about to unfold?” Another sniff. “I think not.”
The vampire knelt beside him, watching the telltale dilation of his eyes. “This will not be pleasant,” he said bracingly. “It would be better to sleep.”
The fae looked up at him, answering in a perfect deadpan. “You have a magnificent bedside manner.”
The others laughed quietly as Evander rolled his eyes, glancing over when Jesse knelt beside them, offering out a stick. At first, Kiera stared dumbly, thinking he was making some kind of joke.
For the screams, she realized.
The vampire shook his head. “He would break a tooth.”
At that point, she joined them as well, perching on the makeshift bed just behind where the fae was reclining. There would be little point in her trying to steady his legs—she hadn’t the strength for it. But she be there for him in other ways; a cooling hand on his brow, a set of familiar eyes.
He lifted the flowers a third time and breathed deeply.
“Oh,” he said in a strange voice, blinking at his own hands, “that is enough, I think.”
The blossoms were immediately confiscated, as the fae sank backwards onto Kiera’s folded legs, never noticing when the vampire unfastened a clasp and slid off his pants. Most days, it would have been easier to simply cut them. But they were alone in the forest without any supplies.
The fae might resent the pain tonight. But he’d complain more bitterly in the morning.
Except he doesn’t resent it. He is dreaming.
She looked down tenderly as Eden nestled his head against her stomach, strands of starbright hair drifting across his brow. His eyes got lost for a while, tumbling aimlessly through the heavens, before he gazed up at her with an almost childlike smile.
“You would be frightened,” he boasted quietly as the others conferred in murmuring voices, huddled over the fractured agony that remained of his legs. “You would be frightened, if this was you. Not me.” He grinned again, like a boy who’d skipped his first pebble. “Look how brave.”
She stroked his hair affectionately, feeling suddenly warm for the first time in days.
“You are very brave,” she agreed conspiratorially. “The bravest of all of them, I’d say.”
He nodded a little, staring up at her with that dizzy smile. “Would say that again, please? Much louder.”
She laughed in silence, teeth catching onto her lower lip. No matter what pains the day had brought, the fae always managed to find some bit of light.
Even if he’s stoned out of his mind. And about to be screaming.
The others were getting silently into position, the air between them hung thick with dread. A sudden wave of panic rushed over her, a desperate need to be doing something. She was about to distract him—busy his mind with some rambling question, or silly story—but when she looked down again, he was staring back at her with a perfect, lucid calm.
“Are you all right?” he asked quietly.
...me?
She blinked in incomprehension before her eyes flickered over the gruesome scene. Bones and blood and sedating flowers. They returned a second later, lit with an exasperated smile.
“Only you would ask me that now.”
“Mios,” Evander’s voice cut in softly, “we are about to begin.”
The fae glanced down in surprise, but couldn’t seem to register anything beyond his line of vision. Instead of trying, he looked back at Kiera, those luminous eyes fastening on her face.
“Evan was right,” he murmured, “it was only the flames, not the smoke...”
Her forehead creased in confusion, she was about to ask what he meant. But at that exact moment, there was a violent crack and the fae let out a terrible scream—one that travelled straight back to that castle, echoing off the empty walls, before losing itself in the night.
“That was one,” Evander panted, raw as a burn, “steady him for the other.”
No sooner had Jesse moved into position, than his pale hands moved again—taking the fractured bones in his lover’s leg and forcing them into place. Eden cried out again, only once, as his body arched skyward. It was enough to lift Kiera off the blankets, Jesse’s boots dug a little trail into the ground. The vampire was upon him the next moment, soothing and embracing, while the fae shook with silent sobs in the circle of his arms. The others stepped away discreetly, backing to the edge of the clearing—where the forest gave way to the valley, and the sky was full of stars.
As they stood there watching, Kiera couldn’t help but think that if Sorne truly was on his way, there was no way he could have missed it. They would have escaped from the castle, from the army, and dragged themselves across the length of the valley, only to die in fire on the same day.
Her eyes lifted to the heavens, half-expecting to see a dragon. Half-expecting to see the man riding the dragon looking back at her. She could see nothing, just a pale grey stretch of cloud.
Thank goodness for all the smoke.
Chapter 2
Two days passed, and not much changed.
Their arduous journey had taken them to the mere edge of the valley, but the fae was in no condition to travel any further, and after the re-cracking and setting of his bones, it seemed a great cruelty to even ask. Such wounds were meant to recover in an infirmary, if one had managed to survive them in the first place, and there was nothing about the rudimentary clearing that lent itself to healing.
That first night was the hardest, as the pain was so great, he was incapable of lying down. He tried as best he could, wincing in silence and biting at his lip, until Evander pushed suddenly from the grass and propped him into a casual recline. He then slipped round both legs and sat behind him until sunrise, his chin resting on the fae’s shoulder, both arms looped gently around his waist.
All things considered, Eden actually slept quite well; caught in the grip of the flowers, lost to the outside world. The vampire stayed awake until sunrise, gazing at the skyline until dawn.
Then on the morning of the third day, things began to improve.
“By the heights of Amador...I shall tear you to pieces.”
The friends awoke to the sound of birdsong and curses, blinking themselves to life as shafts of sunlight poured into the camp. The air was already warm, and the green around them was lush and brimming. It was a world caught in the last flush of summer; tiny woodland flowers gathered in droves around the base of the great redwoods, glossy ferns stretched their arms to the sky.
It was such a tranquil scene, it took a moment to locate the source of the trouble. Then they saw Eden sitting upright in the middle of his blankets, pointing an unwavering finger across the fire.
“You son of a whore.”
They regarded him in bewilderment, then followed his line of sight—expecting to see ogres or demons, the look on his face would demand nothing less. But there was nothing but a patch of purple flowers. They stared in blinking silence, before turning slowly back.
Seven hells.
“Did you say something, my love?” Evander began hesitantly, it was sometimes possible to derail these little tangents before they began. His eyes swept frantically around the clearing, falling upon the fae with a hint of dread. “Eden, did you find the bouquet?”
His lover may have despised every inch of his newfound invalidity, but he’d developed a shocking affinity for the flowers. It was not the first time something like this had happened. And despite the vampire’s continuing efforts to conceal them, it would likely not be the last.
“You need to throw them away,” Jesse interjected sternly, as the fae loudly proclaimed his innocence. “At the end of each day, Evander. We’ll just get new ones in the morning. I know you’re worried we won’t find any, but the last time, he ended up setting fire to his arm.”
It had been the least of his vengeances.
He’d kicked over a stew Kiera prepared, claiming it to be for the benefit of humanity. After determining Jesse to be some kind of changeling, he’d attempted to skewer him in the leg.
The vampire shook his head, looking profoundly tired.
“I saw what that was, he would have done that anyway.” He squinted painfully against the blinding sunrise, lifting a hand to shade his face. “Eden, were you threatening something? You must remember not to threaten anything, love. If you want something threatened, come to me.”
Kiera cast him a sideways look. “You have a very strange relationship.”
“Said the girl dating a wolf.” Evander let out a breath, watching as the fae began muttering under his breath and reaching for a rock. “No, I said do not threaten, sweetheart.” He glanced at the others, shaking his head. “It’s like telling a heron not to fly, an otter not to swim.”
Jesse started to answer, then decided against it—shaking his head and dropping backwards onto the bed. Kiera grinned in spite of herself, pulling the words right out of his head.
It’s too early to be having this conversation.
At the sound of their voices, Eden cast a swift look to the side, registering the vampire’s presence just long enough to conscript him into his dastardly plans.
“There’s a hare in those shrubs that is mocking me,” he said venomously. “Fetch it for me, will you Evander? And bring me my knife. I shall skin the beast alive.”
Kiera threw up both hands, dropping into bed herself.
Yours.
The vampire froze a second, thrown by the twist.
“A hare?” he repeated, trying to buy himself time.
Eden flashed him a strange look. “Yes, like a rabbit. A quirk of the common tongue—”
“I know what a hare is,” Evander interrupted, without the slightest bit of impatience. He knelt instead to eye-level, following the fae’s line of sight. “You are seeing it now?”
Eden laughed shortly, like he was making a joke. It was the first morning the others couldn’t see fresh blood on his bandages. His eyes were clear, and there was a glow of color in his cheeks.
Aside from the temporary madness, he actually looks much better.
Kiera warmed with a smile, but caught herself just as fast.
How many times have we said that?
“Mios...?” Evander said uncertainly, bending to catch his eye. It was an utterly pointless endeavor. “I think perhaps it’s run away. Wouldn’t it be nice to rest, now?”
The fae ignored him, transfixed by something on the other side of the fire. His fingers kept making a strange curling gesture, like he could yank the beast towards him right through the air.
“Clever little spy,” he murmured, eyes narrowing with a lethal smile. “You thought I would not see you amidst the foliage, but I am wise to your plans. Bring that message to your master,” he concluded in strange triumph, “it was not the gods who abandoned me...only the dead.”
It was quiet a moment, then Jesse whistled under his breath.
“That’s a lot to unpack.”
Kiera smacked at his legs.
“What do you say we let the hare go?” Evander asked smoothly, having recovered himself a little. No matter the fae’s newfound incomprehensibility, the vampire always found a way to turn it round. “It would be a mercy to spare him—” He recalculated at the look on Eden’s face. “It would give him false confidence, making things easier in the inevitable attack.”
The clearing went still for a moment.
“Yes, that makes sense,” Eden said lightly.
A second later, he’d already forgotten.
