Deliverance
Page 103
“Rachel.”
“You came,” she whispers, and tears spill down her cheeks. “I knew you’d come, no matter what Ian said.”
“Of course I came. I told you I’d always find you.” I raise my hand and gently wipe the tears from her face. “I expected you to be inside Rowansmark. Why are you up in a tree in the middle of the forest?”
“I escaped because I had to find you. I had to warn you.” Her eyes find mine. “You can’t go near Rowansmark. Marcus—your dad—invented these things called summoners that can call an entire army of the tanniyn at once, and Rowan plans to unleash them on you or anyone else who threatens Rowansmark. I tried to figure out how to destroy them, but they’re buried, and Ian didn’t know how to break them, so Marcus said if we used an inverse signal—”
I pull back while a tight ball of heat presses against my chest from the inside out. “Wait a minute. I thought Marcus was dead. And what do you mean Ian didn’t know how to break them? Why would you even ask him?”
Quickly, she tells me about being imprisoned in the makeshift dungeon below James Rowan’s house, about my father with his broken mind but loving spirit locked for months in the cell beside hers, and about Ian breaking down when he realized everything he’d done to restore his family’s honor had been based on a lie.
I’m not sure how to feel about the news that my father is still alive. Alive or dead, he’s a stranger to me. Ian, however, is no stranger. The fact that he’s suddenly realized he made the wrong choices doesn’t take those choices away. This information doesn’t change what we need to do—it just means we have to find a way around the summoners.
“Are you going to say anything?” she asks.
I shake my head. I could talk strategy or discuss the depths of crazy that inhabit my family tree, but after weeks of being apart, I’m finally with Rachel again. I’m not going to waste time talking scenarios when we could be kissing. “I’d rather kiss you.”
Before she can say a word, I lean forward and kiss her the way I’ve dreamed of every night since we’ve been apart. When I pull back, we’re both breathless. She looks me over as if trying to memorize me in case we’re separated again, but then she frowns and grabs my left hand.
“What happened?” She nods toward the stub that used to be my little finger.
“A tracker cut it off.” I try not to flinch at the memory of searing pain and the surreal sight of my finger separated from my hand.
“I hope you made him pay for that.” Her voice is fierce.
“Willow slit his throat.”
She pulls me to her and kisses me. Her kisses are just as fierce as her voice. When she pulls away, I grin.
“I’d love to keep kissing you, but maybe we’d be more comfortable on the ground?” I ask. “Besides, our friends want to see you.”
She grins, but makes no move to leave the tree.
“Rachel, can we climb down now?”
She firms her lips and slowly reaches toward the branch closest to her, but before she can grasp it, her face pales, and she hisses in pain.
“Is it your arm?” I look at her burned forearm, but it’s bandaged, so I can’t see how bad the injury is.
“No, it’s . . . there’s one other thing I need to tell you about my stay in Rowansmark.” She tries to adjust herself and winces. “James Rowan decided I was guilty of a rebellious attitude and of taking things that didn’t belong to me, so he sentenced me to fifteen lashes.”
“Fifteen . . . with a whip?” Anger is sharp and lethal inside of me as she leans forward, and I gently peel her tunic away from her back. The skin is a mass of partially healed strips. A few of the scabs have pulled away from the skin and are bleeding. “You’re—that’s—how did you climb this—I’m going to kill him, Rachel. I’m going to kill James Rowan for doing this to you.”
“Actually, we’re going to kill him because he does this to everybody, and because he thought he could just take over the world, and everyone would have to go along with his plan.” She reaches for me, and I wrap my arms around her, careful to avoid pressing against her wounds.
She brushes a kiss along my jaw. “So . . . how am I going to get down?”
“I’ll carry you.”
“Down a tree?” She sounds alarmed.
“It can’t be that hard.”
“It sounds impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible.” I grin at her with as much confidence as I can muster, and then I wrap her arms around my neck, hoist her onto my back, and very carefully make my way down the tree. All the while my joy at finding Rachel wars with the fury I feel at the man who ordered her whipping, and I vow that summoners or no summoners, I’m going inside Rowansmark.
Best Case Scenario: I enter the city undetected, and James Rowan learns what I do to those who abuse the girl I love.
I don’t even bother planning for a worst case scenario, because nothing is going to stop me from making James Rowan pay for hurting Rachel. Nothing.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
RACHEL
I hang on to Logan as tightly as I can without choking him while he slowly climbs down the tree. Being connected to him again is like finding the piece of me that was missing and putting it back into place. Willow meets us halfway and keeps a hand on me as we descend. I’m not sure she could catch me if I slipped, but I appreciate the sentiment. I just hope she continues to feel friendly toward me once I tell her about Quinn.
“You came,” she whispers, and tears spill down her cheeks. “I knew you’d come, no matter what Ian said.”
“Of course I came. I told you I’d always find you.” I raise my hand and gently wipe the tears from her face. “I expected you to be inside Rowansmark. Why are you up in a tree in the middle of the forest?”
“I escaped because I had to find you. I had to warn you.” Her eyes find mine. “You can’t go near Rowansmark. Marcus—your dad—invented these things called summoners that can call an entire army of the tanniyn at once, and Rowan plans to unleash them on you or anyone else who threatens Rowansmark. I tried to figure out how to destroy them, but they’re buried, and Ian didn’t know how to break them, so Marcus said if we used an inverse signal—”
I pull back while a tight ball of heat presses against my chest from the inside out. “Wait a minute. I thought Marcus was dead. And what do you mean Ian didn’t know how to break them? Why would you even ask him?”
Quickly, she tells me about being imprisoned in the makeshift dungeon below James Rowan’s house, about my father with his broken mind but loving spirit locked for months in the cell beside hers, and about Ian breaking down when he realized everything he’d done to restore his family’s honor had been based on a lie.
I’m not sure how to feel about the news that my father is still alive. Alive or dead, he’s a stranger to me. Ian, however, is no stranger. The fact that he’s suddenly realized he made the wrong choices doesn’t take those choices away. This information doesn’t change what we need to do—it just means we have to find a way around the summoners.
“Are you going to say anything?” she asks.
I shake my head. I could talk strategy or discuss the depths of crazy that inhabit my family tree, but after weeks of being apart, I’m finally with Rachel again. I’m not going to waste time talking scenarios when we could be kissing. “I’d rather kiss you.”
Before she can say a word, I lean forward and kiss her the way I’ve dreamed of every night since we’ve been apart. When I pull back, we’re both breathless. She looks me over as if trying to memorize me in case we’re separated again, but then she frowns and grabs my left hand.
“What happened?” She nods toward the stub that used to be my little finger.
“A tracker cut it off.” I try not to flinch at the memory of searing pain and the surreal sight of my finger separated from my hand.
“I hope you made him pay for that.” Her voice is fierce.
“Willow slit his throat.”
She pulls me to her and kisses me. Her kisses are just as fierce as her voice. When she pulls away, I grin.
“I’d love to keep kissing you, but maybe we’d be more comfortable on the ground?” I ask. “Besides, our friends want to see you.”
She grins, but makes no move to leave the tree.
“Rachel, can we climb down now?”
She firms her lips and slowly reaches toward the branch closest to her, but before she can grasp it, her face pales, and she hisses in pain.
“Is it your arm?” I look at her burned forearm, but it’s bandaged, so I can’t see how bad the injury is.
“No, it’s . . . there’s one other thing I need to tell you about my stay in Rowansmark.” She tries to adjust herself and winces. “James Rowan decided I was guilty of a rebellious attitude and of taking things that didn’t belong to me, so he sentenced me to fifteen lashes.”
“Fifteen . . . with a whip?” Anger is sharp and lethal inside of me as she leans forward, and I gently peel her tunic away from her back. The skin is a mass of partially healed strips. A few of the scabs have pulled away from the skin and are bleeding. “You’re—that’s—how did you climb this—I’m going to kill him, Rachel. I’m going to kill James Rowan for doing this to you.”
“Actually, we’re going to kill him because he does this to everybody, and because he thought he could just take over the world, and everyone would have to go along with his plan.” She reaches for me, and I wrap my arms around her, careful to avoid pressing against her wounds.
She brushes a kiss along my jaw. “So . . . how am I going to get down?”
“I’ll carry you.”
“Down a tree?” She sounds alarmed.
“It can’t be that hard.”
“It sounds impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible.” I grin at her with as much confidence as I can muster, and then I wrap her arms around my neck, hoist her onto my back, and very carefully make my way down the tree. All the while my joy at finding Rachel wars with the fury I feel at the man who ordered her whipping, and I vow that summoners or no summoners, I’m going inside Rowansmark.
Best Case Scenario: I enter the city undetected, and James Rowan learns what I do to those who abuse the girl I love.
I don’t even bother planning for a worst case scenario, because nothing is going to stop me from making James Rowan pay for hurting Rachel. Nothing.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
RACHEL
I hang on to Logan as tightly as I can without choking him while he slowly climbs down the tree. Being connected to him again is like finding the piece of me that was missing and putting it back into place. Willow meets us halfway and keeps a hand on me as we descend. I’m not sure she could catch me if I slipped, but I appreciate the sentiment. I just hope she continues to feel friendly toward me once I tell her about Quinn.
