Forty-Six

“W

hat do we do?” I cried. He looked so helpless, so weakened that I didn’t know if he’d be able to pull himself out of it.

“I found a dead bird once,” Gráinne muttered. “When I was a little girl. I tried to make it better, but it stayed dead.”

“He’s not dead yet. Maybe he’s strong enough.” I wanted to believe it. He certainly looked like he had put up quite a struggle before he lost the battle. I squeezed his fingers, proud of the fight in him. It explained Griffin’s welt.

Heaviness draped over my back like a lead cloak. I sighed and curled my knees to my chest. His being here was bad news. I hadn’t even realized until then that I had harbored a little bit of hope. Now all hope was gone. And Clancy had his prize, three of us. Whatever that meant.

Gráinne put her delicate hand on my shoulder as I sat on the edge of the bed with Giovanni’s limp hand in mine. A warm tingle of energy infused me where her hand rested. It gave me an idea.

“Can we help him?” I asked. “Giovanni showed me we could give to people to make them feel better. Can we give him enough energy to save his life?”

“The bird stayed dead.” Her hand slipped from my shoulder. “Maybe you could. I don’t know. I won’t. Forgive me.”

“Together we might be able to help him. He’s one of us. He needs us!”

She covered her heart with her hands and backed away. “Mine is mine. Mine is mine.” She kept up her incantation as she stepped farther away. I stared helplessly at his still form, wanting to believe I had the capacity to give even when I’d been taken from so cruelly. If I couldn’t believe in my own light, if I let the darkness win, then I might as well give up.

So instead of giving up, giving in to darkness, I thought of the old me. My old life. And the people I had loved.

My father, whose love was stifling but well intentioned. Even when I cursed him, I loved him. And now I knew why he had lied to me all those years, what he had sacrificed to protect me. His love and protection had been the most constant thing in my life.

Even if I did suspect some Arrazi in her bloodline because she exhausted me within moments of being around her, in her own frenetic way, Janelle had tried so hard to stand in as a mother. I didn’t make it easy on her. She also loved my dad, despite the fact that she knew she was a stand-in for his first wife. Anyone who could love so hard from second place was deserving of my love in return.

I adored my cousin Mari with her big mouth and fierce individuality. She was like a sister to me. If I had any bravery in me, it was because she showed me how.

I felt the love I had for Dun, for his loyalty, his goofy smile, his happy light. I smiled, thinking of that little boy sitting against the tree, crying into his scrubby knees, one big toe poking out of those old moccasins, and how he had grown into an almost-man. He could always make me laugh with his stupid jokes. He was the person who taught me how to laugh at myself.

I remembered the compassion I had for little Max and all of those kids at the Boys & Girls Club who needed the world to lend them some extra love and strength until they were strong enough on their own. Giovanni had grown up under worse circumstances. Alone, with no parents at all. He was so courageous. He’d had to be.

I closed my eyes and let all the beauty rise up in me. Feeling love was risky. But instead of being weakened by it, I was surprised to realize the love strengthened me.

I held both of Giovanni’s hands and thought of the powerful nature of love. How it was like water. It settled into the low, hidden places and seeped into my crevices, breaking me open. It eroded my fortresses and shaped me into something new. And even when I thought I’d had it wrung out of me, it could rain back down and satisfy a thirst I didn’t know I had.

All of this, I tried to offer to him through my hands, from my body into his. It was a prayer in physical form.

Nothing. No response.

Blinking away tears, I involved my whole body, sending positive vibes through my hands, my heart, my eyes. Would any of it penetrate?

I was blowing on cold ashes, hoping for a fire.

But then his fingers moved underneath mine. The faintest groan escaped his torn, parted lips. Encouraged, I continued, imagining my aura as a rolling ball of energy washing over him, into him. I scanned his body for any sign of the shimmer that had first drawn me to him that day at the airport, but he was still snuffed out. I pressed his hand to my heart.

“Take it in,” I whispered. “Come back to me. C’mon, G.”

Then a small sliver of sparkling light caught my eye where Gráinne had said she felt it above his abdomen. It pulsed and grew, spreading like liquid mercury over his body. It swirled over his heart and simultaneously out toward his arms and legs. He gasped and drew in a deep, quivering breath, and his eyes flashed open.

I smiled. Joy burst out of me. He was alive! I bent and hugged him, but before I knew what was happening, his hands wound around my wrists and he flipped me over, pinning me underneath him on the bed.

I looked up into his eyes, the swirling, glassy ocean of them. He looked confused, not all there yet. His aura shone above his shoulders again, but I couldn’t see it over his head. He pressed his body against mine, and I was shocked to feel his arousal. His body was completely, intensely alive, although it seemed his mind wasn’t. I was about to say something, try to call him out of his stupor, when he blocked my words with a fierce kiss.

His warm mouth melted over mine. The sensation of touching my tongue to his was like licking the tip of a battery. A metallic zing of energy traveled from my mouth throughout my body. Every point of contact from my toes to my lips burned with electricity. My hands were still captured above my ears, but our fingers had interlocked. Our palms pounded with our firing pulses. We were two streams of lava, fusing together.

I kissed him back, responding. Like taking something back, reclaiming my own spark. But then I realized his was a false desire, an aura spell I had cast, that just like Finn, his want of me wasn’t real but feeding off something else. And my want of him was salve on my wounded heart.

I managed to break the kiss and speak. “G—Giovanni, are you okay?”

His unfocused eyes rested on my mouth like he was trying to translate the sounds I’d made. The blood on his lip was bright and new again. I could taste it. Ever so slowly, his eyes ventured up to meet mine. There was recognition there, but confusion as well.

“Sleep now,” I commanded. I sounded much more in control than I felt. I was stirred but invigorated, which seemed strange considering how much energy I had given him. His grip on my hands released as he rolled off me, burying his face into my pillow. His eyes closed, his breathing slowed, his silver aura fired to life like a match around his entire body.

I lay on the bed, staring at the canopy overhead. My chugging heart lost momentum one pounding beat at a time. I closed my eyes, lulled to sleep by the sound of Giovanni’s breathing next to me. So glad he was alive. I didn’t have any power in my situation, but I’d had the power to save him.

A strong arm wound over my waist, and my eyes flew open. The room had morphed into the inky blue of twilight. The only light was from the wood-burning stove glowing in the corner.

Giovanni’s hand was tucked beneath my hip. With a commanding tug, he pulled my body against his. He curled around me like warm air, nestling his face into the back of my neck. I should move, I thought, lift his heavy arm from over my body and wiggle away from him. Sleep on the floor, or with Gráinne. But I didn’t want to. I pressed myself for an explanation, and my internal answer, my truth, was I liked the security of his arm over me. I liked being less alone.