Dirk And Steele: The Wild Road Part 32

I gave my word, he told her, as the stone crept over his jaw. d.a.m.n it, Lethe. Go.

Go, and do not tempt me, he wanted to add. Terrified that if he did, the Sidhe queen would kill her. He would rather die himself. He would rather spend the rest of his life in a cage.

You gave your word, Lethe shot back. I didn't.

Lannes felt her hammer on the inside of his mind, and her desperation was as raw as his, wild and crazed. What are you doing?

Give yourself to me, she said, her mental voice breaking on the words. Let me have control over your body. It'll be my fight then, not yours. No broken promises.

No.

Then I'm staying.

The stone was almost to his eyes. He looked at the queen over Lethe's body and found her staring at him with cold pleasure. The Sidhe knew, he realized. She knew exactly what Lethe was doing. The queen wanted it that way. To imprison them both.

Trust me, Lethe whispered in his mind. I know you have no reason to, I know what this means, Lannes. But trust me.

Trust her. Trust a member of the same family that had tortured him, tried to force him into giving what she was asking for now, freely. His soul.

I'd rather be in h.e.l.l, she whispered. Rather in h.e.l.l with you than anywhere else.

Lannes felt the same.

Take it, he told her, free-falling inside his heart, opening the last, most precious part of him to her mind. Take it all, Lethe.

And she did, but it felt like being buoyed by a sea of pure light, and her love was.h.i.+ng over him was so brilliant, so desperate and powerful, he felt more alive in that moment than in any other. As though his skin were made of the sun.

Until he lost himself in that light, and Lethe took over his body.

It was not painful. It was not frightening. She slipped around him like a glove, and it was as though every lonely moment of his life, every hurt and slight and fear, was eased away by the gentleness of her spirit.

If we stay like this forever, she whispered, we'll be all right.

But even as Lethe spoke those words, Lannes felt another blossom of light, a force anch.o.r.ed to her spirit.

Runa.

He heard no words, but he felt something pa.s.s between Runa and the Sidhe queen, a heave of light and energy that was as heavy and sharp as the edge of a knife. Turmoil, a ripple beyond him, in the forest. He was stone now, as he had been years ago with the witch, but he felt no fear, no pain. Just Lethe. He clung to her soul-she clung to him- and they were so close in that moment, he was convinced that no force, nothing in this world or the next, would ever separate them.

Until, quite abruptly, the stone disappeared from his body and he could move again.

Lannes fell forward, gasping. Lethe was inside him, and her body was on the ground, breathing but still as death. He did not hesitate. He hauled her into his arms and staggered to his feet. On his left, Runa was gone from the roots of the oak.

Her flesh had been golden and s.h.i.+ning, and now there was nothing left but bone and rock and moss. The Sidhe queen knelt in the shadows of the great tree, her pale face hidden.

"Go," she whispered. "Both of you, go. You fools. Runa gave her life for you both."

Lethe curled away from his mind, leaving a cold empty spot in his soul. Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath. Her heart pounded. Lannes swayed, weak in the knees, the separation of their minds making him feel as though he were dying all over again.

"Why are you allowing this?" he asked.

The queen closed her eyes. "Because I take, and I take. And though I take because I love, nothing remains, nothing keeps. What I take, I kill. Except for one woman. One woman I freed. Lucy Steele. And she returned to me again and again to sit outside my cage and read." Her mouth twisted into a snarl, tears glimmering in her eyes. "And it made me weak. Weak enough to give once more."

She flung out her arm, silver bells chiming. "Go."

Lannes did not argue. He ran, and the forest melted around him like some bizarre dream, though it was not his imagination that trees bent and the ferns danced, and that the brambles twisted like skeletal hands.

He saw sunlight. He burst free.

And he was back in the meadow, Lethe in his arms. She was alive. Burning a hole through his heart.

Lannes fell on his knees. He heard shouts, feet pounding. Shadows fell over him. Lethe's eyes fluttered open, and her face crumpled when she saw him. Lannes kissed her mouth, shaking.

And he felt, on the edge of his mind, a presence-cold and worn and bitter. Lethe stiffened, as well, her mind melting into his.

I am not sorry, whispered a dry masculine voice, skimming the edge of their thoughts. My body may have at last given, out, but my mind never will. I will never be sorry.

"Liar," Lethe breathed out loud. "Simon Says, you big fat liar."

Lannes closed his eyes and sent his mind lunging toward that presence, swinging power like a hammer. He made contact. He felt a crack.

And the presence fractured. Simon disappeared.

But whether it was for good, Lannes had no idea.

Epilogue.

New York. Upper East Side. It was snowing early for the season, but Lannes did not mind the cold. He wore the illusion of a coat and had a woman tucked close to his side, under his arm. It was night and the city was bright in his eyes. Central Park was on their left.

Lethe was quiet and had been for most of the drive from Indiana to New York. They had only arrived this morning. Something needed to be done, and it could not wait.

"Frederick called," he said, heart aching, knowing she was trembling from something other than the cold. "Ed finally woke up."

"Two weeks was a long time. Any permanent damage?"

"No," Lannes said. "He was worried about his cat."

She smiled, but only briefly. Her face was small and pale beneath her chunky blue hat.

"I'm scared," she said.

"I know," he replied.

"I think I miss Runa." Lethe smiled weakly. "She knew what she was doing, even if it wasn't nice."

"I behaved like her," Lannes rumbled. "Years ago, after I was free from the witch. I had lost nothing but my pride and my freedom, but once I had those back, I still behaved as though I was in a cage. I can't imagine all that time I wasted."

They stopped in front of a glistening building, s.h.i.+ning with gla.s.s and stone. It was old, expensive. Lannes had memorized the address from a piece of paper crumpled in his fist. Both of them stopped, staring at the doors. A man in uniform huddled just inside, staring back at them.

Her family lived there. Alice's family. Lethe's family. Good, normal, fabulously wealthy people. Not a psychotic amongst them, or so Charlie and Will and all the resources of Dirk & Steele had confirmed. The witches, the sisters who had hurt him, and others, were dead. As far as anyone knew.

I was terrified of becoming like them. And of knowing I would be murdered, Lethe whispered inside his head. That's the only reason I can think of for destroying my memories. To give myself a new beginning. A chance to start over.

"And here you are," he said, hating himself. "I can't go with you. I can't take the risk that some of them will be able to see through the illusion."

"You know I understand," she told him. "And I don't have to go, either. In fact-"

Lannes shook his head, close to tears, and kissed her palms. "If you don't go to them, they will always hunt you. If you go to them, you may find freedom. They're not...all bad. Not that we've found."

Her face crumpled. "How will I know? I don't remember them, Lannes. What if they try to keep me?"

"Then call for me," he whispered, pressing her hands over his heart. "And I'll come for you. No matter where you are or how long it takes. I'll find you."

Lethe closed her eyes, leaning into his body. "I've never been away from you."

"You may like it," he said. "Enjoy yourself here. See if you enjoy being Alice. You have family. Don't take it for granted." Then he pulled away from her, dying a little on the inside. She pressed her lips together, mouth firming into a stubborn smile, and nodded.

She turned and walked into the apartment building. Lannes waited, hoping she would come back out again. But she did not.

He crossed the street to Central Park.

A forest in the city. He thought of the Sidhe queen and smiled to himself as he found a tall tree and climbed it. He whispered words, and his body s.h.i.+mmered. Less than invisibility, more than a shadow. It was a dangerous risk, but he had no choice.

He leapt into the sky, catching a draft, and flew upward, circling until he felt Lethe's heart. He focused on it, following her inside the building until he felt her slow in front of one apartment in particular.

There was a balcony. He landed softly on it, peering through large windows. It was a cold home, he thought: all modern sophistication, sleek and gray, with touches of red like splashes of blood. No clutter, few photographs.

But he saw a wall full of books and a grand piano that a child was playing, and when Lethe entered the apartment, the smiles and tears that greeted her were genuine. A tall blond woman dressed in sleek black collapsed on the couch, sobbing. Lethe stared at her, helpless. She looked so alone, Lannes almost rapped on the gla.s.s. He wanted to go to her, he wanted to touch her and stand with her in that lonely crowd.

Lethe looked past those faces, directly at him. He was deep in shadow, and invisible. He knew she could not see him through the gla.s.s, but their link flared white-hot, and he felt warmth s.h.i.+mmer through him like the sun and the stars. The loneliness in her eyes almost killed him.

And then he stopped seeing her eyes as a tall handsome man swept between them and wrapped Lethe in his arms.

The man kissed her. He kissed her so hard he swept her backwards, and everyone in the room cheered. Lannes wanted to rip out his own heart-and throw that human man off the building.

Lannes did not wait to see what happened next. He turned away, gripping the balcony behind him so hard chunks of stone cracked beneath his claws. Memories danced-what felt like a lifetime of memories-from the first moment he had met her, b.l.o.o.d.y and defiant, until now, and everything, every joy and sorrow in between. He loved her. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted her to have a chance at every happiness.

It feels as though all I've ever known is you, she had said to him during the long drive here, and though she had said those words with love-love, that he had felt in her mind, in her heart, burning up their bond-he wondered if that was fair to her. He was not human. And though he could wear a human mask, he would never be human. He could not give her children. He could not age with her. He was not...normal.

She doesn't care, you fool, whispered a small voice in his heart. And it's not as though she's normal, either.

But it was different. She needed to have the choice, the opportunity to see what she had left behind. Lannes would not be responsible for putting her in a cage, no matter how much he wanted her at his side. He'd realized as she'd joined him in the Sidhe queen's condemnation of stone: No one should be caged. Not even in a cage of love. He wanted her to be free.

He threw himself off the balcony, plunging six stories before his wings snapped open.

The next morning, he was back in Maine.

Two days later, Lannes found himself sitting at the end of a long pier, whittling away at a pine block, searching for a face in the wood while his toes dipped into the cold Atlantic. There was a storm on the horizon, the wind brisk. Lights on the distant sh.o.r.e were winking on one by one as evening pulled near. The coast of Maine was always nice to look at. Mainbow Island, home of the Hannelore brothers, had a good view of most everything.

Charlie was nearby. Aggie and Emma were up at the house. Lannes had been promised stories about the "d.a.m.n gnomes."

His brother pulled up the crab nets, the muscles of his long arms straining. "Just so you know, you're a wreck."

"Thanks," Lannes replied, "for nothing."

"Whatever," said Charlie. "The others are worried."

That, Lannes thought, was precisely the problem. Too many family members who did not know how to mind their own business.

"I think," he said carefully, "that I am doing quite well, considering."

Charlie dragged two ma.s.sive nets out of the water and dropped them heavily on the dock. Crabs shuffled inside, waving their pincers. Lannes could tell from looking that a good handful would have to be thrown back for size, but the rest were destined for the big pot in the kitchen.

Charlie's wings swayed in the wind. "You should call her."

Lannes replied, "I know."

"We can handle her family."

He thought about the man who had kissed Lethe, something he had not yet shared with his brother. His heart ached. "Maybe you won't have to."

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself."

Lannes glared, but his brother had knelt and was sorting through the doomed crustaceans, tossing some in a battered bucket-the sides of which had been crudely painted with rainbows and daisies. A little girl's touch. A human's touch. Odd, in this place of gargoyles.

Lannes pulled his feet out of the icy ocean. "You're trying to goad me."

Charlie grinned, ready to respond, but someone whistled at the end of the dock. Both brothers looked up.

Two human women stood by the rocky sh.o.r.e. One of them-Agatha-was tall and dark, with curvy hips and long wavy hair. The other woman was also tall, but pale and blond. Lannes stared, stunned that he had not felt her coming.

"Dude," Charlie said, "I'm out of here."

Lannes hardly noticed his brother's departure. He had eyes only for Lethe. She smiled briefly at Charlie, shook his hands, even-but then she was there, in front of him, and he could not breathe.

"You left," she said, quietly. "You really left. I went back to the hotel, and you had checked out."

He had been a coward in some ways. "I stayed long enough to make certain you would be all right, but I didn't want you to feel obligated to see me again."

Lethe folded her arms over her chest. "You ran. You saw that man hugging me and you dodged so fast I saw tracks in the sky."