Chapter 55

55

Farryn

Large flakes of snow drifted aimlessly from the sky. I held out a hand to catch one in my palm. Once it hit my warm skin, the snowflake melted. “Strange, isn’t it? How easily something so beautiful can be destroyed.”

Van Croix glanced back at me, my other hand clutched in his, as he led me into the woods. “If you let it dry on your hand, it becomes a part of you. And, therefore, lives on in you.”

“I never thought about it that way.” I didn’t bother to wipe the tiny puddle from my hand, and instead, held it out to the frigid, cold air to absorb into my skin. “Absolutely brilliant.”

“I try.”

The past three days, we had spent morning, noon, and night locked inside his bedroom. The only time we weren’t having sex was while sleeping, bathing, and eating. And when he’d had the sheets on his bed changed, although he’d pulled me into a dark corner of the hallway and pinned me to the wall then, as well.

“So, what is it you wanted to show me out in the freezing cold, when I could be lying in a nice, warm bed?” Though, I had to admit, after three days in the same room, the fresh air was a welcomed change.

“I suppose you’ll just have to trust that I have your best interest in mind.”

I narrowed my eyes on him. “Do you, though? I mean, you did take me to the top of a bell tower in a lightning storm.”

“And as I recall, you enjoyed yourself.”

“Touché.” Perhaps it was post-coital bliss, or some strange sex phenomena, but since that first night, something had bloomed inside of me. A sense of invigoration. Energy. My skin had freaking glowed earlier, when I’d looked at myself in the mirror. I felt healthy and rejuvenated.

We reached a small clearing where the trees didn’t grow for some reason. Instead, they created a perfect circle smack in the center of the woods. The narrow trunks of tall trees formed a wall, encasing us inside, and on the ground, dozens of black birds gathered together.

Jericho released my hand and held out an arm, where one of the black birds flew to perch. He flicked his fingers at me. “Your locket.”

Frowning, I unlatched the locket from my neck and handed it to him with a small bit of reluctance. He flipped it open to show the picture of my father and held it up to the bird, who tipped his head, as if studying it. The bird cawed and flapped its wings, and I sat watching the exchange in complete confusion.

“Does he understand?”

“Yes,” Jericho answered, handing the necklace back to me. “Cicatrix has exceptional recall.”

“But you never said a word to him.”

“We communicate without words.”

“How?”

He turned his attention back to the bird, and after no more than a few seconds, it took flight. The other dozens of birds hit the sky alongside Cicatrix and circled in the clearing of trees overhead. Jericho waved his hand and the circle dispersed, the birds nosediving toward us before quickly changing direction toward the sky once more. Every one of them flew in sync, in the most spectacular display of grace I’d ever seen.

A chuckle escaped me, watching him direct them like a conductor standing before a seasoned orchestra. Not a word was spoken.

One abrupt wave of his hand, and the birds circled again in a strange holding pattern, while Jericho flicked his fingers toward me. “Come.”

Still perplexed, I sauntered up beside him and allowed him to guide my arms outward. He pushed my right arm into an arc, and by some illogical reason, the birds followed my command, dipping in an arc formation. He drew my hand back, as if a baseball sat in my palm, and thrust it forward. The birds darted upward, dispersing like black confetti in the sky.

On a burst of laughter, I tipped my head back, the delight of watching these wild birds move at my will an extraordinary experience.

“This is incredible!” I exclaimed, drawing them back at his guidance.

“They trust you,” Jericho said at my ear.

“What does that mean?”

“They happen to be an excellent judge of character. Very loyal creatures.”

“Strange. I always thought of them as fickle.”

“Their loyalty certainly doesn’t extend to everyone.”

As I lowered my arms, the birds flitted back to the ground and resumed their nosing for worms. “What is it that connects you to them?”

“A bond I have with Cicatrix. I saved his life long ago. He took it personally.”

“I had no idea birds were so smart.”

“Well, depends on the bird.”

“You command lightning and ravens. Is there anything you can’t do?”

Sighing, he crossed his arms and leaned against a nearby tree. “Probably not.”

The unexpected response brought a smile to my face. “Except dance.”

At his raised brow, I chuckled. “Well, I just assumed, since you refused to dance with me at the Hallow Ball, that you were afraid to tell me you couldn’t.”

“I wasn’t exactly there to waltz the night away, Miss Ravenshaw. In truth, I’ve never taken much interest in dancing. I never saw—”

“The point. That’s a shame. Possibly a deal breaker,” I teased.

“And you excel at this?”

“Excel is probably a strong word. I do it when I have to--weddings, late night cooking sessions, and in the shower whenever a Prince song comes on. Obligatory moments, you know. Nothing more.”

“Shower?” With a wave of his hand, he quirked a brow. “Demonstrate, if you will.”

“What? Here? In front of you?”

“Yes.”

With a nervous laugh, I shook my head. “I don’t dance for show.”

“Ever?”

“Never.”

“Shame.”

“Did … I … used to love dancing?”

“Very much. And I don’t think I could ever tire of watching.”

Smiling, I lowered my gaze and stepped closer to him, wanting to be near him, to kiss him out there in the open winter air, but the awkward shyness I’d grown up with made the movement jerky and unromantic. How strange that I’d had the filthiest sex of my life with the man, yet couldn’t bring myself to request a simple kiss.

Embarrassed, I turned away, but a tight grip of my arm drew my attention back to Van Croix.

“I will never deny you.” With a gentle yank, he pulled me into him, tight against his chest, where the warmth of his body soothed the cold nip on my skin. “Take what you want from me.”

I’d learned to be bold and unapologetic when it came to my career and pursuit for knowledge, but the thought of asking for affection from others, or worse, taking it, terrified me. Seizing what I wanted in that regard didn’t come naturally. My lack of trust for others, alongside the very real possibility of rejection, had crippled my nerve. Not only when it came to intimacy, either. I could hardly sustain friendships, let alone relationships, and I always perceived both as a burden. Like a plant I’d had to cultivate and grow and tend to everyday.

Being alone had always been easier for me. No expectations, or disappointments.

And yet, I couldn’t say that I truly enjoyed the solitary life. My life.

Cheeks still flush with my timid hesitation, I lifted my chin and pushed up on tiptoes. Stiffly wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him into me, just enough that our lips only touched.

Like the birds earlier, he moved at my will, and when I finally committed to the kiss, greedy lips seizing his, a surge of victory swam through me.

The fear of him pushing me away was literally smothered, when his arms wrapped around me and he pulled me in tighter to his body. And unlike the fierce and desperate kisses from before, this one was softer, lazier, as our tongues explored and the steam of our breath mingled in the cold air between us.

He gave, as I took, quietly feeding a hunger that I didn’t know had starved within me for so long. The intimacy and passion I’d shunned for so many years clawed at me for more.

More!

Like an addiction. How easily I could become addicted to Van Croix’s infatuation with me.

Lustina.

And what would happen when he realized that I hadn’t grown up the innocent young girl who’d danced and charmed what I’d gathered to be a very troubled boy. That I was a woman, hardened by life. Dissatisfied and restless. Always distracted and searching for answers.

How long would it take for him to tire of me?

Pressing my palms to his chest, I broke the kiss to catch my breath. Head lowered, I let the needles of doubt poke and prick my brain, ignoring how wonderful and right his arms felt around me.

“What troubles you?”

“How quickly this has grown comfortable. I want to believe it’s real.”

“And what tells you otherwise?”

I lowered my head to hide the doubts that must’ve been painted all over my face. “The nagging thought that if I were just me, and not some reincarnation of Lustina, this wouldn’t be happening.”

“I was intrigued by you very early on, but you’re right, I would’ve denied myself. Intentionally sabotaged any possibility of you and me.”

“Why?”

“However small and black it may be, I gave my heart to you a very long time ago. I’ve been incapable of loving anything since.” He ran his hand over my hair. “It’s not what you would’ve lacked that would’ve compelled me to turn away. It’s what I would’ve lacked.”

“And if I’d have never returned to you, at all?”

“I was prepared for that possibility, as well.” He didn’t bother to elaborate, but the grim expression on his face told me enough. “I waited an eternity for the year in which you were prophesied to be reborn.” His words settled deep inside my chest, and in spite of my lack of experience with love, I tried to imagine wanting someone that badly.

I was ashamed to admit that I couldn’t. I’d never loved anyone so fiercely as to wait an eternity. To deny myself the possibility of happiness.

And because of that, I didn’t feel like I deserved him.

Hands cupping my face, he kissed me harder that time. “It’s cold. We should get back.”

“If it’s okay with you, I’m going to stop by the kennels and check on the dogs. I’ve not seen them in a couple days.” I stepped back from him, and he reached out for my arm.

“Is everything all right?” The concern etched on his face only pulled tighter at my chest.

“Perfectly fine.”

“Farryn. I’ve had an eternity to fall in love. To dream and become infatuated, waiting on your return. I do not expect you to feel the same so soon. It would be unnatural.”

I didn’t want to tell him that I feared I might not be capable of romantic love, at all. Given the lengths he went? I doubted my love as a daughter, a niece, a friend. I doubted my humanity altogether. Who wouldn’t sacrifice for someone they loved, after all? A selfish person. One who thought of no one but herself and her own survival.

The smile I offered back belied all the doubts swirling in my head, and I nodded. “I just have to get used to the idea of love, is all.”

“I rejected it myself. Swore that the apathy in my heart would be what would ultimately destroy me. And here, it was the only thing in this world that saved me. I’ve been dead inside for far too long. But in you, I’ve found reason to breathe again.”

Smiling wider, I nodded, only feeling worse. “I’ll only be a few minutes at the kennels.”

“Of course.”

Turning away from him, I exhaled a long and shaky breath, and blinked away the threat of tears. Get a hold of yourself, the inner me chided. Jesus, there were worse things in life than having a gorgeous man, with vibrating feathers and a body made for sex, to profess his infatuation.

A lot worse.

As I neared the kennels, a commotion caught my attention, and I rounded the building to the other side, where the housemaid, Evie, stood screaming at Garic.

“I don’t care! You don’t just take something! It’s called stealing, moron!” Evie held a shiny object behind her back, her other finger pointed toward the old man who glared back at her.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Angry, brown eyes snapped toward me, as Evie regarded me like a bad smell in the air. “What business is it of yours, dog girl?”

No doubt I had my own issues when it came to people, but Evie was an example of someone who clearly hadn’t been hugged enough as a kid.

“It isn’t my business, at all. You just looked upset.”

“Yeah. You would be, too, if this dimwit had stolen something you were in charge of looking after!”

“I didn’t steal it,” Garic finally grumbled. “I was only borrowing it.”

“Borrowing what?”

Evie whipped the object from behind her back and held a silver picture frame between them, quickly snatching it away when Garic reached out for it. “He took it from the curio cabinet in Master Van Croix’s sitting room!”

“A picture frame?” I waited for her to tell me that it had some special meaning, or something, but instead, Garic added, “In a drawer collecting dust.”

“You’re upset that he stole an unused picture frame?” I was asking for both clarity and because her reaction made it all a little ridiculous.

“I suppose the consequences aren’t the same for those of us with special privileges. If the master happens to see his frame missing? He’ll suspect me, and I’ll be out of a job. And a home.”

“I’m sure Mister Van Croix wouldn’t have a conniption over a picture frame.”

“I’m sure you don’t know him as well as you think.”

“You stay out of my cabin. You ain’t got no right snooping around my things!” Garic barked, swiping for the frame behind her back again. “Gimme what’s in it!”

“Oh, right.” Evie unclipped the back of the frame and tore out a piece of paper, throwing it back at Garic. “Almost forgot to return your bullshit daily affirmations.”

“Wretched girl!” Garic practically dove for the paper that’d fallen in the snow, the wet seeping over the page and smearing whatever had been written on the other side.

Staring down at him, Evie chuckled. “Stupid old man and your stupid affirmations. Your wife left you and she isn’t coming back. She’s probably fucking someone else now, so there’s no point.”

“Hey!” Stepping closer brought Evie’s scornful glare swinging back to me.

Growling, Garic pushed to his feet clutching the sodden page, and hobbled off toward his cabin a short distance away.

I turned my attention back to Evie. “What the hell is your problem? Were you born horrible, or did this evolve over time?”

“I’d watch yourself, girl. You may be the boss’s latest fucktoy, but he doesn’t keep them around for very long. And when he decides to discard of you, guess who he’ll come looking for.” She didn’t bother to wait for my response, and instead, spun away from me, heading back toward the cathedral.

I didn’t care about her, or what she said, anyway. I was more concerned with Garic. Abandoning the opportunity to bite back, I headed toward the cabin. When I reached the porch, Garic was sitting on a rocking chair, straightening the edges of the paper on his thigh.

Just based on his surliness, I supposed the man didn’t cry much, but the abrupt movements of his hands and forced exhales told me he was pretty upset. “I didn’t see any harm in what you did.”

As I expected, he didn’t answer, but kept to his task of trying to save the ruined page. From where I stood, I could just make out a few smeared sentences:

My name is Garic Wilson.

I was born in Nebraska.

I had a beautiful wife.

Her name was Samantha.

She had green eyes and blonde hair.

She loved flowers in the spring and sunsets over trees.

It was at that moment I realized what it was, and a heavy sadness bloomed in my chest. “You’re trying not to forget her.”

His fidgeting with the paper stopped, and he pinched his lips together, as if to hold back his anger. “I won’t ever forget her. Man doesn’t forget his own wife.”

It made sense to me now. All that time, I’d thought Garic was just a disgruntled old curmudgeon. Mean for the sake of being mean.

He’d chosen to remember his pain, and carried it with him every day.

“She sounds lovely.”

“Marrying her was the best thing I ever did.” His thick brows furrowed together, as he resumed his paper straightening. “I don’t give a hoot what anyone here says. I’ll see her again.”

After my encounter with Anya, I didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise. Wasn’t my place, anyway, even if I was only one of the few who seemed to have an awareness of what Nightshade was. Even if I could remember my life and my past, for reasons that didn’t make sense. Besides, fate could be fickle, and if my circumstances were anything to go by, it didn’t always play by the rules, either.

So, instead of telling him he’d never see his wife again, I said, “Sometimes fate brings people back into our lives when we least expect it.”

Garic looked up from the paper, and unless I was mistaken, the shine in his eyes held a glimmer of hope. “You actually believe that?”

After staring thoughtfully for a moment, contemplating the question, I glanced back toward the cathedral off in the distance. One that held far too many coincidences for me to keep denying the truth. I turned back toward Garic with a half-smile. “I’m working on it.”