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Chapter Twenty

  I knelt on the ground. The wood of the dock pressed into my hands and I felt each grain like an individual pinprick. Every nerve ending in my body felt finely tuned—my senses alive with sensation.

  Everything glittered in my vision as if coated with a layer of dew. Blurry like I saw it through a length of gauze. My fingers reached up to stroke the air before my eyes, but they met no resistance. The world remained the same as it ever was. I had changed.

  Zach sat several feet away from me. His hands were untied and he ran his fingers back and forth over the ground at his sides, playing the dirt like an instrument. He noticed me looking and gave me a small smile, childlike in its innocence.

  I smiled back.

  I tried to stand and for one wild moment the world tilted crazily on its axis. I was flying and falling, both at the same time.

  Valentine regarded me silently, while Cynthie stalked back and forth behind him like a caged lioness. He made no move to help or hinder as I struggled to my feet. Our eyes met and a shock coursed through me like lightning.

  Somehow, the terror and uncertainty had melted away to be replaced with something I didn't recognize. There was a hole inside of me, waiting to be filled.

  My stumbling steps became a smooth saunter. My gaze never left his as I moved closer. A smile pulled at the corners of the lips, but there was no happiness in it. I couldn't quite remember what happiness should look like.

  I stopped when we were only inches apart. My fingers burned with the desire to touch him. I wanted to feel the electric current that lit my nerves on fire.

  The answering smile on his face meant that Valentine recognized my wanting, but he waited for me to come to him. My hand rose between us and lightly traced the contours of his face, fingers barely touching the skin.

  When our lips met an electric pulse sent tingling sensations racing down my spine. His face was hot as fire and my skin burned where we touched.

  Neither of us closed our eyes and his gaze bored into mine until I knew he saw right through me. He did something to me, changed me somehow. The knowledge was distant. I didn't care what he had done. I only wanted to be close to him.

  I touched my fingers to his cheek, pressing into his heat until the pain was just short of forcing me to pull away. "Will it always be like this?" My voice came breathless.

  "If you want it to be," he whispered in reply.

  Cynthie grunted behind him. I refused to look away from the darkness in his eyes.

  "Does she have to be here?" I asked crossly.

  "She serves a purpose." He wrapped an arm around my waist and turned my body so the three of us stood in a loose semi-circle. She glared at me and I glowered back. He touched her cheek and a growl eased from my pursed lips. "You both do. With this much power we will stand unchallenged for a millennia."

  "She'll try to hurt me." I couldn't hide the childish note that crept into my voice.

  "Cynthie will do as I say." He grabbed my chin and turned my head to face him. "So will you."

  A small voice deep inside urged me to fight. The more I tried to focus on what was wrong, the more elusive my thoughts became. It couldn't be Valentine that I wanted to resist. The way I felt in his arms was too precious to abandon.

  With a silent gesture from Valentine, Cynthie disappeared into the shadows. He moved away and spoke to me over his shoulder. "Take care of your little friend," he said.

  Zach still stretched out on the ground, half lying and half sitting. He gave me a wide-eyed grin as I approached. I stood over him and tried to remember the way that I used to feel. I knew that I had almost loved him once.

  I remembered wanting him with me always— hours spent thinking of his face. Now, I couldn't quite manage to bring those feelings to the surface. He was like an interesting specimen underneath a microscope, nothing more.

  "What should I do with him?" I asked finally. Zach just smiled wider.

  "Whatever you wish," Valentine answered. "Leave him, kill him—it makes no difference."

  "Killing him would be messy." Zach bent over the ground, rearranging tiny rocks into unintelligible patterns. He confused me. "Could I take him with me? He makes pretty music."

  Valentine stared at me for a long moment and finally shrugged. "Are you building a collection?"

  I smiled. "I like pretty things."

  His laugh trailed over me like a feather tickling down my senses. "So long as your new pet is potty-trained."

  "Don't forget about this one." Cynthie's voice rang out as she reappeared from the shadows. I looked up in time to see her push Sam to the ground at my feet. "I found her sneaking around out here."

  Fear widened Sam eyes as she looked frantically from one face to the other. Blood oozed from a cut in the corner of her mouth.

  I sighed. "I told you to leave."

  "Hex." My name was forced from her lips in a gasp as Cynthie's foot on her back forced Sam closer to the ground. "I'm sorry. I wanted to help."

  I knelt on the ground and touched her bruised lips. "You're bleeding."

  Her eyes widened as I brought the tip of my finger to my mouth and licked it clean. "What's happened to you?" she whispered. "Where's Zach?"

  Cynthie ground her heel hard into Sam's back. "It's not Zach you should be worried about."

  Her whimpers of pain drew my gaze back to Sam's face. She was mine.

  "Leave her be," I said sharply.

  Cynthie arched an eyebrow and slid her stiletto heel across the delicate arch of Sam's spine. Sam screamed as a thin line of blood soaked into her shirt. I stood quickly, but Cynthie backed gracefully away and spoke with a smirk in her voice. "This is boring." She slid away to stand near Valentine who watched us all, his face emotionless.

  Sam was crying. I raised her into a sitting position and cupped her cold hands in mine. Her skin was soft and so thin that I could feel her pulse beat against my fingers. I stroked it absentmindedly.

  "It's over now."

  "Over?" Her tear-streaked face was inches from mine. "What are you talking about? What happened to Zach?

  "He's fine," I said sharply. She was asking too many questions. I didn't like it.

  Whispers rose in a sudden cadence.

  Take her.

  Eat her.

  Kill her.

  I looked wildly around for the source of the voice but no one new had appeared on the pier. Sam stared at me now, fear still evident in her widened eyes. Except now I couldn't tell if it was fear of Valentine, Cynthie or me.

  Her gaze moved to Zach, who was arranging the pebbles into concentric circles so he sat in the center of a bull's eye. "He doesn't look fine," she said softly.

  Blood still oozed from the wound in her back. I could smell it in the air. Sharp, metallic and full of possibility.

  I pushed away from Sam, standing so quickly that it made me dizzy. The sudden image of pulling the blood from her body drop from drop burned in front of my eyes. Using her life force to feed my magic. I stared at the dark waves slapping against the pier until the urge was gone.

  The glow faded and I was left feeling only weary and broken.

  "I'm leaving, Sam," I said finally. "Everything can go back to normal."

  "Leaving?" She struggled to her feet, tears streaking her cheeks

  "Pretend we never met." Valentine stared at me from over her head. Even now, the darkness in him called to me. Resisting him was like physical pain. "It's better this way."

  "If only it were that simple." Cynthie strode towards us. The triumph in her face was evident.

  She pulled a long knife seemingly out of thin air and advanced slowly, a cruel smile twisting her lips. I moved in between her and Sam. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as power rose between us.

  "What are you doing?" My voice was soft. I knew I should be angry, but the emotion was distant.

  "I think I might slit their throats and throw the bodies off the pier." Light played on the blade as Cynthie twisted the knife in her hands.
"Unless you want something more dramatic."

  "You aren't going to touch them."

  "That isn't how it works. You broke the rules. You showed magic to a human." Sam made a small sound and Cynthie laughed. "Did you think no one would figure it out?"

  "No," I whispered, but the protestation sounded weak even to my ears.

  "They have to die. It's me or the Blooded."

  The two men behind Valentine suddenly stepped forward, eyes hungry.

  I stared from Sam's frightened face to Zach's oblivious one. Was this feeling of possession the same thing as love? Was love the same as wanting to seal him away like an exotic curio so he was saved only for me?

  Sam hyperventilated, breathing so hard and deep that I wondered if she would pass out. She put herself in danger to bring me here, to help me. Did I owe her something for that?

  "What's it going to be?" Cynthie's voice broke my reverie.

  Valentine made no move to interfere. We stared at each other across the wooden expanse of the pier. In that moment I made a decision. I couldn't let her hurt my friends.

  "Bring them." Valentine's broke the tension like a hammer blow. I stared at him, uncomprehending. It took a long moment for the realization to sink in that he was sparing them.

  "I only want to kill them a little," Cynthie whined. She gripped the handle of the knife so hard that her knuckles turned white. Frustration was evident in every curved line of her body.

  "Now." His voice made the word final.

  Cynthie screamed in frustration and pushed past me. I heard her cursing, even as she disappeared into the darkness. I helped Sam to her feet and she leaned heavily on my arms, wincing with pain as she straightened her injured back. We turned together and came to face-to-face with Valentine. He stood close enough that a hard breath would bring the lines of our body together.

  There was no mercy in him. I knew in that moment that he had a plan for Zach and Sam. He would use them and I would let him do it.

  Valentine's hand slid between my shoulder blades and down to rest at the small of my back. I shivered at his touch. "Shall we," he whispered.

  He led us down the pier. I still supported Sam. Zach trudged slowly behind us like a dog that had been called to heel. The fog cleared enough that I could see the sailing yacht moored in front of us. The light was enough that I could read the name emblazoned on the side, Lady Nocturne.

  "This is new," I murmured.

  Valentine smirked but didn't reply. He turned to Sam and said off-handedly. "You should sleep."

  I stumbled as Sam's full weight fell against me. Only Valentine's steadying arm kept us both from sinking to the ground.

  "Thanks for the warning," I grumbled over the rumbling snores issuing from the slack head now hanging over my shoulder. Sam was heavier than she looked and I heaved her up the narrow gangplank with effort.

  He led us below deck to a darkened sitting room, tastefully decorated in mahogany and earth tones. I collapsed onto the plush couch with Sam. Valentine watched with a small smile as I slowly extricated myself from underneath her prone form.

  "Come above with me." Valentine held out his hand and my fingers instinctively twined with his.

  Cynthie stood on the bow, unwinding the rope that connected the yacht to the dock. Zach sat on the stairs that led to the helm with a dazed expression on his face. I wondered if the spell Valentine cast was wearing off for him too.

  Valentine called to Cynthie. She glared at us and picked her way gingerly across the hull of the yacht. She jumped down next to Valentine and gave him a flirting smile. "We're ready to go," she said.

  "Take him below." He gestured to Zach.

  She growled low in her throat but grabbed Zach's arm and propelled him towards the stairs. He followed her like a sleepwalker. As she moved past me, our eyes met and the look that passed between us was rife with threatening promise. Sooner or later, we would have our reckoning.

  Valentine led me to the helm. In the still night, the ocean seemed to stretch into eternity. I stared into the far off horizon and I expected to see guide lights from other vessels or the glare of a lighthouse. There was only sky, water and darkness.

  His hands glided over the controls and the engine roared to life. He grasped the wheel lightly, fingers barely touching it. We passed rows of neatly moored boats, ranging in size from tiny pontoons to sleek yachts like this one, built for luxury.

  "Where are we going?" I asked.

  "Does it matter?" I could hear the smile in his voice. He was laughing at me.

  He kept one hand on the wheel while the other played along the skin at the small of my back. I shivered and pulled away. It was impossible to think when he touched me. Valentine overwhelmed my senses. I could taste his pulse on my tongue like a drumbeat. The whispers in my head spoke with his voice.

  Shaking, I sank into the leather co-captain's chair and pulled my knees close to my chest. I was still within arm's reach. It was as far away as I could force myself to get from him. He faced away from me. His hands stroked lightly down the wheel as he guided the boat out to sea.

  Unbidden, my gaze traveled down the hard lines of his back that tapered into a slim waist and long legs. He was relaxed, but muscles coiled underneath his skin, thick with the potential to move faster than any human would think possible.

  Silence reigned for as long as I could take it.

  "What are you going to do with Sam and Zach?" I asked finally.

  "They belong to you." I could barely make out the curved profile of his smile in the darkness. "The true question is: what are you going to do with them?"

  "You aren't going to hurt them?" I pressed. I needed to be clear on this. Valentine would keep his word, but words were nebulous things.

  "Their fate rests entirely in your lovely hands."

  I thrilled at the seductive quality in his voice. "And you won't let Cynthie hurt them either."

  "Cynthie is a problem that you will have to deal with yourself."

  I sat back in the chair, the dark leather was cool against my back. "Having her here does make things easier."

  His eyes were unreadable in the semi-darkness. "How so?" He murmured the question.

  "She's a constant reminder that I can't trust you."

  "Did you ever?"

  "Maybe once." I pulled my knees closer to my chest, feeling suddenly cold. "When I was young and stupid."

  His smile widened and sharp teeth flashed in the moonlight. "And what does your age and wisdom tell you now?"

  "You did something to me." My voice was hard with accusation. "You made me forget what I wanted."

  He moved fast. I blinked and his face was inches from mine, teeth bared in a grim paroxysm of a smile. "What is it that you want, Hex?" My name on his tongue had a sibilant hiss.

  I wanted to back away but there was nowhere to go. My chair pressed up against the wall and the only escape was a narrow porthole that led to nothing but open ocean.

  "What do you want?" I countered. Anger lent strength to my voice. "Do you want me? Or Cynthie?"

  It wasn't until the words spilled from my lips that I could give a name to the emotion that burned inside of me. Jealousy. I was jealous of powerful, beautiful, perfect Cynthie. She was the daughter my family should have had. She wanted to take everything away from me—even the things that I wasn't sure I wanted.

  "Cynthie has her uses." The amusement in his voice was plain. "As do you."

  His fingertips slid down my neck and my eyes drifted closed. I wanted to pull away, but the force of him was magnetic and impossible to resist. His lips touched my cheek and moved along the curve of my jaw to my chin. His breath tickled along at the corner of my mouth.

  Sensation overwhelmed me. Hot and cold bursts coiled and broke along my already sensitive nerves. If I let him kiss me now, I would never be in control again.

  I pulled away before our lips could touch. He let me pass as I stumbled out of the chair.

  "I need to sleep." My voice came brea
thy.

  "Bedrooms are below at the end of the hall." He slid into my abandoned chair and gestured languidly at the controls. "We're heading south. It should take less than a day."

  The mental calculations were simple—somewhere in Mexico, maybe Guatemala or Honduras but that was pushing it. I didn't bother to press him for our destination. If he'd wanted me to know, then I wouldn't have to ask.

  I turned my back on him and padded slowly across the deck. His gaze bored into my back as I retreated and I resisted the urge to run. I slipped quickly down the stairs, ignoring the sudden claustrophobia I felt at being surrounded by an endless expanse of water. Cool wind blew across the deck and stars twinkled in the night sky. The fog cleared as we moved into open ocean.

  Surrounded by the walls of the ship's hull, the gentle rocking of the yacht seemed suddenly overwhelming. I stumbled through the sitting room, leaning on the walls for support.

  There were three identical doors at the end of the hallway. I tried the handle of the first and was surprised to find it locked. Before I could try the second door, it opened of its own accord. Cynthie stood in the opening, unwelcome written into the lines of her face.

  I peered over her shoulder. Nothing moved in the darkened interior of the room but I could just make out a still form lying on the bed. I tried to move past her. "What's going on?"

  "This is what you wanted, Hex." She pushed me hard back into the hallway. "The best of both worlds."

  "Why are you doing this?" I shoved her back. Anger had finally overwhelmed the last of my common sense. I was sick of the games and plays for power. "I've never done anything to you." I regretted the words the moment they slipped from my lips, thinking of Ceres.

  "No?" Her laugh was harsh. "Waywards take everything. The power. The privilege. The money. You think you're so much better than the rest of us. And then there's you—seventh born of the seventh born. Growing up, all I ever heard was how powerful you'd be, how amazing. And then nothing. The only power you had was an amazing ability to hide behind your mother's skirt." She spit the words at me. "You don't deserve to be a Wayward."

  "Is that what this is about? You're jealous." I forced a laugh. It was almost a relief to know that Cynthie was prey to the same high-school insecurities as the rest of us. "I am twice seventh-born, Cynthie. And that means I have more power than you could even dream of." I advanced slowly and she actually backed up a step, expression wary. "You are a nobody from a nothing family. The only chance you have is to latch on to someone better than you. At least, that's what your brother tried to do. Remind me again how that worked out?"

  Her hand came up but I caught her wrist before the blow could land. My grip was tight enough that the bones of her wrist ground beneath the skin.

  "Let me go," she said through gritted teeth. She tried to pull away but my hold on her was firm.

  "This is the last time we are going to have this conversation." I spoke slowly, enunciating every word. "Ceres wasn't my fault. That wasn't—" My breath caught and I swallowed hard. "That wasn't something I wanted to happen. I can't change it."

  "Bloodprice means a life for a life. Money isn't the same." A hysterical note crept into her voice.

  "This is the last time you will threaten me or anyone who belongs to me. It's over." I squeezed her wrist hard until she made a small pain sound. "Do you understand?"

  We stared at each other for a long moment. To my surprise, she didn't try to fight and slowly lowered her arm. I released her wrist and she moved past me down the hallway, her feet moving soundlessly on the carpet. Tingles of relief shot down my spine. Cynthie couldn't beat me, not now that power throbbed through my body, thick as blood. But a fight with her would be hard-won. It was better that we come to an understanding.

  Cynthie spoke from the foot of the stairs, her whisper-soft voice devastating in the silence. "If you give me a chance to hurt you, I'll take it."

  From so far away her eyes seemed dark as midnight against the paleness of her skin.

  "Agreed."

  I went to Zach's side. His breathing came deep and even, but he was impossible to wake.

  The blankets were pulled up to just under his chin. I slid them down and inspected his still form. There were no cuts or marks, not even so much as a bruise. If Cynthie had done something to him, it was impossible for me to tell what. I settled the covers gently back around him.

  Zach seemed fragile as he sank into the folds of the bed, like Sleeping Beauty moments before the prince's kiss. I pushed away thoughts of him broken at the hands of Cynthie or Valentine, or goddess forbid my own.

  Valentine barely operated in the real world. Even if he knew something about nationwide manhunts and missing person's reports, such human preoccupations wouldn't concern him.

  I could only imagine the fallout when Zach and Sam's parents discovered they were gone. My own parents were due to return from their New York trip soon. My mother would do whatever it took to keep our family strong and I doubted my father left time in his machinations for concern over me.

  Dappled moonlight passed through the window as dark clouds fled across the sky. We chased the night. Daybreak would bring its own challenges.

  I laid down gingerly on the empty side of the bed but Zach didn't so much as stir. It was awkward to lay next to him—we had barely kissed. I prayed that he wouldn't wake up just in time to catch me snoring.

  Sleep proved elusive. Shadows danced on the ceiling but the pale light of pre-dawn was just beginning to peek over the horizon. As Zach's gentle breathing lulled me to sleep, I prayed. I prayed to the gods who never answered that I would be able keep him safe.