Seeker (Riders #2)(102)

I am not like Samrael. I had begun to think so. I'd begun to see how we're both fighting to reclaim things we've lost. But I am nothing like him.

As daylight finds all the cracks and parts in the drapes and infiltrates the room, that, at least, I decide. I will not misuse power-power that shouldn't be mine to begin with.

Then I leave my room and head downstairs to meet Rael for the morning walk we planned last night during dinner.

I can't leave until I find the orb.

Which means I have to act like nothing has changed.

But everything has changed.

Everything.

* * *

Rael is waiting for me in the foyer. The front door is open, and he's gazing outside at an overcast morning. I wonder if he's contemplating freedom. Or plotting the next move in his nefarious plan.

Or just thinking about the fun we'll have on our walk together because we have been having fun. For days.

He's easy to talk to. Educated. Intelligent.

Well-traveled. Well-read.

He smiles easily, laughs easily.

He's honest. Polite. Considerate.

Contrite. At least I thought so before I learned the truth. I actually believed he was through with hurting people, deceiving them, and using them for his own personal pursuit of power.

I was so wrong.

He hears me and turns, smiling as I descend the sweeping stairs. His smile vanishes as I come nearer. "Are you all right?"

Unlike Bas and Gideon, I will never be able to act my way out of anything. I've never been able to lie. Easier for me not to say anything. But in this case, I have to. "I didn't sleep well. It's nothing." I head outside before he can ask me about it.

"Sorry to hear that. Daryn, is-Daryn, wait. Please wait."

I turn, and wonder if my anger is burning through my eyes.

"Instead of a walk, I thought I might take you somewhere new. I want to talk to you about something important. I'd hoped to do it somewhere  …  special."

Fear weaves a hot thread through my sternum. I instantly regret not having my knife on me. "Sure."

"This way," he says, and motions me past the kitchen, back upstairs.

I'm painfully aware of his nearness. There's only one explanation for this.

He saw Gideon.

He knows I know everything.

He's going to kill me, or pressure me to open the portal.

Either way, something terrible is coming.

He steps past me on the second floor, and opens the door to one of the unused bedrooms. He walks to the fireplace, and opens a small door set into the wall beside it.

"It leads up to the roof." He holds the door open like a gentleman.

"You first. I don't like cobwebs or spiders."

He smiles. It's a shaky smile and he's looking in my direction but not making eye contact. "Of course. Follow me."

The inside is cramped, and smells of mold and wet stone. There's so little visibility that I bump into Rael's back twice, kick the step in front of me twice, and graze my shoulders against the walls repeatedly.



       
         
       
        

He swings open a small door and daylight sweeps in like a gust, taking me aback.

We climb out to a narrow ledge framed by a low wall with the crenels I saw days ago. The sky is gray and unsettled.

There's hardly any space up here-barely enough room for two people to stand side by side. Rael plants his hands on the ledge. He gazes at the wooded hills with a look of concentration, like he's working up the nerve to say something.

I have no idea what. And I don't know where my anger went, or why all I feel now is sadness.

He's not who I thought he was. And, I realize, I was beginning to love his triumph. It inspired me. Such a profound transformation. Such a massive positive shift. I was becoming attached to him. I wanted peace for him. Redemption. Happiness.

I step to the edge, and see a sliver of the garden beyond sloping rooflines. Another sliver of the wall, circling the hill. And much farther below, the huge sections of the woods that are blackened and gone.

"I have made a terrible mistake," Rael says. No lead-up. He comes over to me. I feel how close he is, inches away, but I don't look at him. If I do, he'll know. I won't be able to hide what I'm thinking.

You're a liar.

You're evil.

"What mistake?" I ask.

"I have not been honest with you. I-I have to admit, Daryn  …  I didn't believe that anything I could do or say to you would change your view of me. After what I've done, to Gideon, to others, I didn't think you'd be able to offer me another chance."

"I haven't."

"I know. You haven't. But I feel, Daryn  …  I feel that you might. I feel hopeful. And I want to be worthy of that hope. You've looked at me like I am different. Like I'm better than I was. Like I'm worth something. You've given that to me freely. It means far more than any amount of respect or deference I could ever produce in others by force. So much more. And I want to feel deserving of it. I want to become what I've pretended to be."