The 13th Prophecy

Page 4

Eric stood there, golden eyes wide as he looked around the cavern. The more he craned his neck to take in his surroundings the more tense his arms and back became. I turned to Collin and asked quietly, “Why is he staring like he doesn’t know where he is?”
I rose and walked toward Eric, reaching for him slowly. He seemed lost. Like he wasn’t sure what happened or how he got here. His fingers clenched into fists. I understood why Collin didn’t just take me and leave. He knew I needed Eric. Stepping closer, Eric startled and spun on his heel. His hands were in fists, close to his body. Defending himself.
I put up my hands, palms facing him, “Easy, Eric. Don’t you … ” but my voice died in my throat. The skin above his brow was smooth. Where was his mark? His scar? My voice was stuck in the back of my throat, trying to speak, but nothing came out. I stared wide-eyed, blinking slowly as Eric gazed at me. His hands slowly lowered to his sides, but the tension came back as soon as Collin stepped toward me.
Collin whispered in my ear, “I thought he was dead, but he woke up a second before you and started to move around. I’m not sure he remembers anything, but the look on his face says he does. I think he’s just got holes in his memory, and is trying to fit the pieces back together. Having your soul back can do that. It’ll pass. But that,” Collin nodded, “that is permanent.” He saw it too. No mark. Collin paused for a second, his eyes watching Eric. “Whatever you did to him worked better than what Kreturus did to me, but it seems to have had an unpredicted outcome.”
Eric stared at both of us, recognition forming in his eyes. His gaze narrowed in first on Collin and then when it slid to me, scorn flashed brightly behind his eyes. He swallowed hard and redirected his gaze toward Collin, arms folded across his chest. Eric’s voice sounded like the scornful Valefar version, “What? What now?” He shook his head, demanding an answer.
I stepped in front of him and reached for his hair. I had to be sure that the mark hadn’t moved. I had to see for myself. As my fingers grazed his hair, Eric’s hand shot out. His fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist, stopping me from touching him. It was completely beyond my comprehension as to how this could have happened. It wasn’t possible. I couldn’t be seeing what was so plainly clear. Eric’s hair was filled with dirt and blood, clinging to his head. Smears of mud clung to his face. He’d tried to wipe it away. But it wasn’t the blood, dirt, or wounds that made me falter. His fingers pressed into my arm as he shook it and threw it away from him. The jolt helped me find my voice. Locking onto his golden eyes, I said, “Your mark is gone.” There was no trace of his Valefar scar. There was no lingering Martis mark in its place. There was nothing. I couldn’t stop staring. My mouth hung open, completely shocked.
Eric pressed his fingers to his head. His eyebrows pinched together as if he didn’t believe me. But the shock that was so clearly plastered across my face made it impossible to ignore. Eric turned toward the Pool. He fell to his knees and glanced at his reflection. His voice came out in a shallow puff of air, “Well, what the fuck does that mean?”
Eric’s eyes were wide. For a split second, I could see fear behind them, fear which was quickly masked with anger. He practically snarled at me, but I didn’t understand what happened. Souls couldn’t merge with a body, not if the soul was good—which Eric’s was—and the body was corrupt. The two became separate, acquiring different characteristics that made them impossible to fuse. That was what happened to Collin. That was why his soul was damaged and miniscule. Kreturus destroyed it, twisting it, trying to force it into a body that had done heinous things. Confusion lined my face. There were only two logical reasons—I was able to do what Kreturus couldn’t—or Eric never drained a soul from a mortal.
I turned to Collin with my mouth hanging open, and my brows at different shocked heights, asking the questions that were running through my mind. “How could this be? He was a Valefar. He had to kill to survive. That wasn’t optional, was it?” Collin shook his head. I stared at Eric as his irritation grew as he listened, gazing in the water at his smooth skin. “I didn’t think his soul would even go back into his body after what he’d done, but the two bonded like drops of water.”
Collin stepped toward Eric. The movement made Eric stop staring at his reflection and jump to his feet. It didn’t matter what he was—he didn’t trust Collin. Collin glanced at Eric and then back at me. “It shouldn’t have. Something’s wrong here. It appears that he’s no longer claimed by anyone. That’s what the mark and scars are—a claim of ownership. You broke my blood bargain with Kreturus, but my scar is still on my head. It changed, but it’s not gone. This is suspicious.” Collin touched his chin with his fingers and circled Eric. Eric remained silent, as tension built within every muscle of his body. Eric’s eyes narrowed into slits, watching. His fingers curled into fists at his sides. “The only way for his body to accept his soul would be if he failed to perform his basic Valefar right.” Collin folded his arms. A surprised expression moved across his face. He asked Eric, “How’d you survive if you didn’t kill? That’s the only way for a Valefar to live. We have to demon kiss a victim, and steal their soul. If we don’t, we die. So how’d you avoid it?”
Shock slammed into me again. Eric was an evil bastard. I made him that way. He killed lots of people. He did. He had to. But, as I stared at him slack-jawed, I wasn’t so sure. Was it even possible? Shaking my head, I stepped between them and said, “It doesn’t matter. We have to leave. Now.” A frantic feeling was creeping up my spine.
Collin nodded, “I didn’t take you before because you seemed hell-bent on having him with you. If he’s mortal, he can’t effonate with us. And it’d be suicide to try to walk him out of here. The portal is on the other side of the Pool. The Pool spans through half the Underworld. As soon as Kreturus realizes his beast is late, he’ll send another—if he doesn’t come himself.”
I turned to Eric. His body was still rigid. “Can you effonate? Do you feel any of the power you had before? Any of mine?” Collin’s lips parted as if he was going to say something, but he snapped his jaw shut instead.
A smug smile crossed Eric’s face, a smile that made me think the next words out of his mouth were less than truthful. He looked down at me, shaking his head. “No. It’s gone.” His eyes never left mine. We couldn’t leave him.
Collin reached into his pocket and was about to cut his hand with his black blade when I stopped him. Resting my hand across his, I looked into his eyes. “No. Eric has to realize that he’s an ally. He can’t do that if he’s blood-bound to you.” Collin’s jaw twitched. He looked past me, at Eric. “I’ll take him with me.” I turned toward Eric, but Collin grabbed my arm.
“I can’t let you do that! You’re too weak.” He looked down into my eyes, pleading with me, “Don’t do this. There are safer ways...” He stroked his thumb along my cheek. I wanted to take his hands and press them to my cheeks, my lips...
Eric moved toward me. He was standing behind my shoulder by the time Collin stopped speaking. The two of them had always hated each other. And I didn’t have time for a debate, or jealousy, or anything at the moment. Eric slid his arm behind my back, and Collin tensed. Eric said, “I’ll walk out of here before I let one of you feed me blood.”
I didn’t shake Eric off. I slid my arms around Eric’s waist, and pulled him against me. His muscles were tightly wound. The tension rolling off his body was scary—especially if he was human—which I didn’t entirely believe. With a deep breath, I said to Collin, “We’ll meet up with you. Go to the place where I first met you. Okay?” Heat snaked from my stomach, slowly filling my limbs. Fire coursed through my veins as I waited for Collin to reply. He met my eyes for a moment, and nodded. Then Eric and I were engulfed in a surge of heat and the world blazed around us.
CHAPTER FOUR
This wasn’t the first time I effonated with Eric. His body was pressed against mine tightly. I could feel the curve of his chest beneath my cheek, and his hands pressed firmly to my back. Heat surrounded us, making it impossible to speak. Normally, the pain would have made me cry out, but I locked my jaw and focused on where I was taking us. I didn’t say the exact location, because it was possible that Kreturus heard us. I hoped the place was still standing. I hoped I remembered correctly—that the school basement was an unused bomb shelter. It had the faded gold fallout shelter sign on the rear exit that went into the school parking lot. If it really was a bomb shelter, we should be safe there—at least for a little while.
The drain of effonating with Eric began to take its toll and we weren’t there yet. The flames felt like they were ripping through my throat and cracking it apart in a fiery blaze. My body tensed under Eric’s arms as I tried to swallow the pain. Effonating two people hurt like hell because it was double the pain price. His fingers pressed into my back. I could feel ten points of contact infuse my body with a burst of cool water. His lips pressed to my forehead and the pain abated.
I didn’t have time to wonder what he did or how he did it. If I didn’t focus, I’d kill both of us. Whatever Eric did, made it possible for me to control the effonation again. I pressed my eyes closed, trying to see the dark corner of the stage, the spot behind the curtain where I first met Collin. As soon as I remembered the cinderblock walls, the burgundy velvet curtain tucked in the corner, and the catwalk that was overhead, we were there. The space appeared as if a dream materialized before my eyes.
Eric and I released each other and gasped. Collin wasn’t here yet. I leaned against the cold wall, sucking in deep breaths of air. The large deep red curtain still hung across the wooden stage. We were in the shadow of the right wing, hidden between the curtain and the wall. The black curtains hung in tatters between the door to the basement and where we stood. It looked like they burned in random places. They resembled Swiss-cheese more than curtains.
Eric stood across from me, unfazed. Shadows fell across his eyes, making him look more dangerous. I panted, trying to resume a normal rate of breathing. I walked toward him, looking up at him. Eric stood a head taller than me. His hair was a mess, and dangling in his eyes. Blood and dirt clung to his arms, marring the smooth surface of his skin. Eric stared at me, blank-faced, as I asked, “How’d you do that?”
What did I do to him this time? What was he? There was no way he was a mortal, not if he could help control the effonation. A mortal might not even survive it. I reached for his hand, and he let me take it this time. He watched as I turned his palm over and traced the lines with my finger. Staring at his palm, I felt his warm hand in mine. What did I do to him? What was he? A demon with a soul? A fucked up angel? I didn’t know. My finger glided across the surface of his hand. I looked up into his face. He looked like the same messed up version of Eric that I made in the Lorren. He was acting the same. But he was different somehow. After he was silent, and made no move to respond, I said, “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”