Storm and Fury(56)

26


“I don’t like this,” Zayne was saying as we left the restaurant. I kept close to him since the lighting on the sidewalk was poor.

“Like what?”

“You going with Roth to see the witches.”

“I thought you trusted Roth—” The toe of my boot caught the curb I didn’t see and I stumbled. “Dammit.”

Zayne caught my arm. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I tugged my arm free as I glared down at the sidewalk I couldn’t see. “I just tripped. I’m fine.”

A moment passed. “I trust Roth, but I don’t trust the witches. Anything they do, they do to gain something in return. You need to be very careful around them.”

“So no letting them take clippings of my hair or nails?”

Zayne snorted as we headed into the parking garage. “Yeah, try to avoid that, but also don’t make any deals with them to get information. Sometimes they will help, but the price you pay is never what you expect.”

“I’ll pay any price.”

Zayne stopped so quickly I walked into him and bounced back a step. Irritation flared to life as Zayne faced me. “See, that’s why I’m worried.”

I stared up at him, able to make out his features in the harsh white light of the parking garage. “You shouldn’t be.”

“I shouldn’t be? You being willing to do anything to get the littlest piece of information regarding Misha is dangerous. Especially when you’re going to meet a coven of witches, who are notorious for taking people’s desperation and manipulating it to their benefit.”

I crossed my arms. “I’m not easily manipulated.”

“I didn’t say you were, but I also know that you’re desperate, and I get it—”

“Do you really?” I demanded. “I don’t know. You keep making vague statements on how you know what it’s like to see someone you care about in trouble but not be able to do anything. If that’s true, then you would understand. You would do anything—”

“I know this is dangerous, because I do understand.” Zayne took a step forward, crowding me, but I held my ground. “I’ve been desperate enough to do anything, and that never ends well, Trinity.”

The constant feeling of helplessness surged and it stripped the filter right off my mouth. “Is that how you lost a part of your soul?”

Zayne drew back as if I’d hit him. A veil slipped over his face and his features became devoid of emotion. “Who told you that?”

I snapped my mouth shut.

“Who?” Zayne demanded, reaching for me but stopping short. “Who told you that?”

Wishing I had kept my mouth shut, I unfolded my arms and looked away. “Misha told me. He said... He said he’d heard that you’d lost a part of your soul and that’s...that’s why your eyes are different.”

“Is that what he said?” He cocked his head.

Heart thumping, I nodded. “Is it...true?”

Zayne didn’t answer for a long moment, and then he did. “Yeah, it’s true.”



 



I’m going to die.

Cowering on the subway platform, I knew the beautiful demon, with his golden eyes and cruel smile, was going to kill me. He was supposed to help me, but the room was bathed in blood and the broken, huddled mass on the floor was Zayne.

“He can’t save you,” the demon growled between jagged teeth. “No one can.”

A scream rose in my throat as the demon lurched toward me with razor-sharp claws—

Jerking awake, I gasped for air as I tried to get a sense of my surroundings. Where was I? I didn’t recognize the darkness of the bedroom. There were no stars on the ceiling and the bed...was far too big to be mine.

It took me moment to remember that I was at Zayne’s place, in his bed, and he was alive and I was alive.

It was just a nightmare.

Groaning, I pulled my hands out from under the comforter and pushed several strands of hair out of my face.

The bedroom door cracked open, startling me. I held my breath as I strained to see the shape filling the darkness of the doorway.

“You okay?” Zayne’s voice was rough from sleep. “I thought I heard you scream.”

The warmth of embarrassment crept across my face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s all right,” he replied, and I didn’t see him move but I felt him draw closer. My vision still hadn’t adjusted when the lamp on the bedside table turned on, causing me to wince. His gaze drifted over me, lingering on where I was clenching the edges of the blanket, my knuckles bleached white. “Can’t sleep?”

I shook my head, surprised that Zayne was checking in on me. After the whole showdown in the parking garage, things had been...awkward between us. We’d barely spoken, even when we came across a pack of Ravers in the back alley of one of the major theaters downtown. We’d come back to his place a few hours ago and parted ways without saying much of anything to each other.

I dared to peek up at him.

A look of understanding flickered across his face as he glanced at the door he just came through. Then, wordlessly, as my heart started beating crazily fast, he gestured toward the bed.

“May I?”

I wasn’t sure if this would help our current standoff, but I didn’t want to be alone, so I nodded and scooted over, keeping ahold of my blanket like it was lifeline.

“Nightmares?” he asked, his voice low as he sat beside me and leaned against the headboard.

I nodded as I watched him stretch out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles.

Tipping his head back, he looked over at me. “I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

He was quiet for a long moment. “About everything, really. You’ve been through a lot, and that’s emotionally and mentally tiring. Your mind is going to make it rough on you, even when you’re at rest.”

“You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault,” I said. “You’re actually doing everything you can. It’s just... I don’t know. I feel like I don’t have control in any of this and I’m...”

“What?”

Confused. Antsy. Uncertain. “I’m just... I’m scared. I know I shouldn’t admit that, but I’m scared that I won’t find Misha in time or, when I do, it will be too late, because he must be going through things I can’t even imagine.”

He folded his arms loosely over his chest. “It’s okay to be scared, Trinity. It’s okay to worry.”

“I know.” I held my blanket tighter.

“Then stop giving yourself such a hard time.”

I exhaled heavily. “And I...I should apologize to you. I shouldn’t have asked you what I did earlier. It was none of my business and I was just—I was being an ass, and you were trying to help me.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.” He drew one leg up. “It just caught me off guard. Sort of surprised me that you haven’t said anything until tonight, considering all the questions you ask.”

I snorted. “Yeah, I’m kind of surprised myself.”

“I just... I want you to know that I do understand why you need to do everything you can,” he said while I wrestled with the desire to ask him what happened.

I pulled my knees up under the blanket and rested my chin on them. Easier said than done. “So, you’re okay with me meeting with the witches?”

“Going to have to be.”

“You’re...not used to having to sit things out, are you?”

“Not even remotely.”

I smiled at that, feeling a little better about what had happened in the garage. “Do you think these witches Roth was talking about are going to be able to tell us anything?”

“At this point, who the Hell knows?” He nudged my knees with his. “But if those humans who attacked the community alongside Bael were under a spell, they should know who did it, or at least who’s capable of it, and through them, we may find where Bael is and if he still has Misha.”

“And what if the witches we go to are the ones who helped Bael?” I asked.

“Then things are going to go south.” A pause. “I know you’ve been taught to not use your grace, because it weakens you and it can draw other demons to you, but if you ever find yourself in a situation you can’t get out of by fighting, use it.”

I didn’t know how to respond at first. “You know, you’re the first person to say that to me. Neither Misha nor Thierry has ever said that.”

“I know it’s a risk for you to do it, but I’d rather deal with the risk and the consequences than have you end up hurt or worse,” he told me, and my chest got all warm and fuzzy. “If the witches try anything, take them out.”

“You’re kind of bloodthirsty.”

“I’ve learned to be.”

That he had. Shifting my gaze from his, I looked up at the ceiling and wished I could see stars. “I miss my ceiling.”

“What?” Zayne laughed.

A faint smile tugged at my lips. “At home I have these amazingly tacky glow in the dark stars on my ceiling. They’re white. Not green. I’m not that tacky.”

“Never,” Zayne murmured. “I remember seeing them.”