A Tangle of Hearts, Page 3

  They pulled us apart. I watched, helplessly, as they dragged him away, leather whips coiled around his throat and arms. He shouted my name over and over, his eyes wide and filled with dread.

  One of the Destroyers slithered off its horse and rushed toward me, its crooked fingers curled around a burlap sack. I screamed as loudly as I could. How had they been able to breach the protective shield?

  I screamed for Bijarki, for myself, for my friends who slept under the false assumption that we were safe in the mansion.

  A snake tail wrapped itself around my throat, slick and cold and heavy. The burlap sack covered my head, and everything went black.

  I came to, gasping for air. My fingers desperately tried to pull the snake tail away from my throat. My body contorted with panic.

  A pair of arms held me down. A gentle voice told me that everything was okay.

  My eyes came back into focus. I was at the bottom of the stairs, and I could see the plastered ceiling, the stuffed animals with beady eyes, the dusty curtains on tall east windows.

  Bijarki looked down at me, his hands pressing my shoulders into the floor.

  My lungs struggled to catch up. Sweat glued my hair to my forehead. I felt sticky and hot and cold at the same time. I tried to take deep breaths to return to some semblance of calm.

  Bijarki’s voice was smooth, his eyebrows scrunched into a concerned frown. The corners of his mouth turned down, his firm lips tight.

  “It was just a vision, Vita,” he said, his voice soothing. “Take it easy.”

  “What… What are you doing here?” I asked, instantly remembering that I had been specific in my request the other day. “I told you to stay away!”

  I sat up and shuffled backward on my heels and palms until my back hit a wall. Unless I could sink into it, that was as far as I could get from Bijarki.

  What the hell were you doing in my bed?

  He watched me with a mixture of befuddlement and humor, irritating me even more. What could be so funny when I’d just had visions of myself naked next to him like it was the most natural thing in the world?

  “I heard a thump from upstairs, and when I came out, you were on the floor here, mid-seizure,” he replied.

  A few moments passed while I analyzed everything. I’d been thinking about the Nevertide Oracle and, the next thing I knew, I saw myself with Bijarki while Destroyers broke into the mansion.

  Destroyers invaded the mansion.

  “Just keep your distance, please.” I felt the need to reiterate, maybe more for myself than for him.

  “As you can see, I’m staying away, but don’t expect me to ignore you if you fall flat on your face with another vision,” Bijarki replied, his voice low and his jaw visibly tense. “Are you all right now?”

  I stood. My cheeks flamed. Heat clogged my throat. My body longed for his embrace, and I crossed my arms as though a shield would help. I was still too close to him. I’d just felt his skin on mine; a million miles didn’t seem far enough away.

  “I’m fine,” I muttered. I walked past him and dashed into the breakfast room. Maybe a few gallons of water and the presence of my friends would cool everything down.

  The door closed behind me with a resounding thud. No one was there. Ugh. I went straight for the water jug and gulped down a full glass, expecting Bijarki to come in and turn the heat up again.

  Three glasses later, he had yet to emerge.

  I took a deep breath and looked over to the door. Maybe he’d already come in and was standing there like the incubus stalker that he was. What the hell was I doing in bed with him?

  He never came.

  And why don’t I like the fact that he isn’t here now?

  I could punch myself. I’d been so closed off in the past, so afraid to show my true self to anyone, that I’d gotten too comfortable in my little shell. Then came Eritopia and this Oracle business, flooding my mind with the wildest visions of myself. The future basically smacked me in the face, telling me that my introvert nature was about to get the jaws-of-life treatment.

  I’d told the incubus to stay away from me. I’d left his side, even when all he’d done was show genuine concern. And when he didn’t come after me, I sulked like a little girl.

  Ugh, Vita.

  Serena

  [Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]

  I woke up to pain shooting through my back. I sat up. Sunlight hit my face. My spine crackled like an old twig, sending tiny spasms through the muscles attached to it. I rubbed my eyes and allowed myself the loudest yawn I could summon from the bottom of my compressed lungs. As cramped as it was, I missed the bed I normally shared with the girls. The armchair in Draven’s room was far worse.

  I’m in Draven’s room.

  The realization hit me hard. I looked at the bed and found the Druid sitting up, quiet and motionless. His sand-colored hair was ruffled in various directions. The bandage around his eyes was a grim reminder of what had happened the day before. The runes on his chest were dark brown crusts on otherwise perfectly smooth, tanned skin.

  Judging by the smirk on his face, I figured he’d heard my booming yawn. My cheeks simmered, and I waited for him to say something. A few moments passed. I stared at him, taking in the heavy lines of his torso and strong arms, the sculptural blade of his nose, and his lips, arched in a half-smile. I opened my mouth but couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “Thank you for staying overnight.” Draven's voice was husky but gentle.

  That was unexpected. I cleared my throat and nodded, then remembered that he couldn’t see.

  “It was the least I could do,” I replied.

  Another awkwardly long moment passed. Birds chirped outside in the garden. His smirk persisted.

  “It’s ironic how quiet you are right now,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Usually you’re a bundle of questions before the sun even comes up, making my existence ten times more difficult, yet now you’re silent. If it weren’t so relaxing, I’d say it’s odd. Downright uncharacteristic. Even cause for concern. Are you sick, maybe?” Draven went on, still smiling.

  In my still-bleary state, his words were a sharp reminder of what I had to do for my own, my brother’s, and my friends’ sakes. Drill the Druid for information. Get closer to him, find out more about him, about his kind, about the Oracles, the Destroyers, Azazel, and everything else that was so fundamentally characteristic yet so wrong about Eritopia. Learn how it had gotten to this point, who or what he really was, and what we could do to stop all the carnage and destruction and rescue ourselves.

  I took a deep breath and reminded myself to tackle my mission systematically, one question at a time, provided he was in the mood, of course.

  “Speaking of which—” I started and saw him shift immediately, “the Daughters mentioned that the last Daughter must be awoken in order to save Eritopia from Azazel. How do we do that?”

  Draven let out a tortuous sigh. I watched the runes on his chest move up and then down. Even with his injuries, he was so handsome that my breath got stuck in my throat.

  Focus, Serena.

  “I should’ve kept my mouth shut and enjoyed the silence,” Draven said. “Serves me right.”

  He scooted to the side of the bed, a grimace of pain twisting his features. He was holding his grunts in, unwilling to show weakness. His legs shifted so that his feet hung in the air as he pushed himself to the edge of the bed.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, alarm flaring in my voice.

  “I’m pretty sure I’m the blind one in this room, but in case you can’t see what I’m doing, I’ll explain. I am getting out of bed,” he said.

  “Draven, you’ve just been through a major ordeal, you’re injured, and, as you so clearly put it yourself, you are blind,” I interjected. “You should rest some more and let your body recover. You’re of no use to anyone like this, not even yourself!”

  His feet touched the floor. I shifted in the armchair, wanting to help h
im.

  “You don’t know me very well, Serena, but I’m sure you’ll understand soon enough. I’m not useless, and I’m not out of the game. I need to move. I need to do whatever I can to keep everyone safe,” he said, then his voice dropped. “Especially you.”

  I frowned. I wasn’t exactly sure what to make of his last statement, so I decided not to directly address it. “Don’t be stubborn,” I countered. “You’re still injured. Just stay in bed until the Daughters give you your eyesight back. We’re safe here for now!”

  “I’m not going to wait for anything. I was quite specific when I said that we’re running out of time. Whether I can see or not, that isn’t going to change. Time moves on.” Draven stood up.

  “Draven, don’t!” I darted away from my chair and reached him in a split second with the intention of pushing him back on the bed and nagging him until he stayed put. I expected some kind of opposition when I pushed him, so I added some extra strength to my motion, but he didn’t resist.

  He fell back on the bed, and I was too late to stop myself. I landed on top of him. My palms pressed against his shoulders, and millions of little jolts charged from my fingertips to my core. The feeling of him beneath me was electric, dangerous.

  We both reacted like the opposing forces we were supposed to be. We scrambled away from each other. I jumped back and tried to catch my breath. He moved his head around, as if trying to hear me, to figure out where I’d gone.

  I cleared my throat again and decided to plead with him instead. Anything to get our minds off of what had just happened.

  “Draven, please…take it easy.”

  My whole body trembled from having been so close to his. Then, it hit me.

  “I’ll help you. I owe you this much,” I said and softened my voice. “I’ll stay by your side, I’ll get you whatever you need, I’ll do everything I can, just…don’t rush into it.”

  He seemed to process my request. He moved his head, as if looking to his side, enough for the morning sun to touch his face. The corner of his mouth moved upwards, while his ribcage still struggled with his ragged breath.

  I couldn’t have been that heavy.

  “You won’t leave my side?” he asked and, for a brief moment, I felt like I was talking to the little boy who had stolen Elissa’s diary so she would play with him.

  I couldn’t help the sigh of surrender that tumbled out of me.

  “Whatever I can do to help, Draven. I owe you this much,” I honey glazed my voice. I had to stay close, I had to get him to open up and spill what he knew, and I had to prepare myself for the whole truth, no matter how unpleasant or downright horrifying it was.

  He took his time with a resolution. I cursed him in my mind, since he wasn’t making this any easier. To be fair, his entire presence wasn’t making it easier for me. My gaze kept running over his features, his wounded chest, his hair, his lips.

  At least he can’t see me looking.

  And just then, as if having read my freaking mind, he straightened his back, and moved his head to fully face me. I mirrored his movements almost out of instinct and stood straight, holding my breath.

  “I can’t stay in bed,” he concluded, almost deflating my resolve, “but I’ll accept your help.”

  Good. I further cemented my argument. “I’ll be your eyes, until you get yours back.”

  “Oh, you’ll be so much more than that.” He almost laughed when he said that, showing me a side of him that I’d only glimpsed once. “You’ll have to put up with me. I’ll lean on you. I’ll need to feel you near me at all times.”

  Where is he going with this? Annoyingly, my cheeks warmed again.

  “And, most importantly, you’ll have to listen to my every word, obey my every command, and—”

  “Okay, I get the picture,” I cut him off, unwilling to give him any more satisfaction. “All right, I’ll let you get out of bed and—”

  A massive bang ripped through the house downstairs and interrupted our little back and forth.

  Glass shattered. Heavy objects smashed against the wood, like someone had thrown a dresser, a piano, and a sofa down the stairs all at once.

  The rumble echoed and froze my senses. Draven stilled.

  Then Field’s tortured voice cried out like an alarm.

  Serena

  [Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]

  Draven instantly stood up. Without asking for permission, I grabbed his hand and placed it on my shoulder to guide him out of the bedroom. Grunts and moans coming from the foyer made me want to run. I tried hard to keep myself under control, at least until I reached the source of the ruckus.

  “Who’s there?” I shouted as we turned the corner toward the main entrance.

  Technically speaking, there was no main entrance anymore. The double doors had been torn to shreds and splintered all over the place. Broken glass was sprinkled everywhere. On top of the entire mess, Field had collapsed over Phoenix, his wings spread out and twitching. He must have been in a considerable amount of pain, but the sight of my unconscious brother hit me with a force to rival their crash into the mansion.

  I rushed toward them, leaving Draven to lean against the wall.

  “Phoenix!” I shouted.

  I rolled Field off of him, quickly glancing over the Hawk’s body. I noticed a multitude of scratches and cuts drawing beads of blood all over his torso and arms. He’d been in a serious fight.

  Phoenix, on the other hand, was still. I ran my hands over him in a panic, and stilled when I found the back of his head sticky with blood and already forming a lump.

  I gasped.

  “What’s going on?” Draven asked behind me.

  Groaning, Field raised his head and shook it. He paled at the sight of Phoenix and jumped to his knees, seemingly forgetting about his own pain. He pulled his shirt off, rolled it, and placed it under my brother’s head.

  “We need to put pressure there,” he said.

  “Phoenix, please!” I gasped, willing him to come to consciousness.

  Draven had gone quiet by the wall, probably trying to listen in and understand what was happening. I could barely bring myself to respond to him with my brother limp in my arms.

  Motion entered my field of vision where the door used to be. I turned my head and saw Jovi stagger in with a woman leaning against him. She looked young and wore animal skins tightly wrapped around her torso and hips. What I assumed was some kind of red and silver war paint peaked through beneath layers of dirt and shredded grass all over her body.

  It was only when I saw the wounds on her leg and shoulder that I realized she wasn’t just a woman but a female incubus—a succubus. The silvery war paint was, in fact, the color of her skin. Her iridescent blood seeped from her injuries, creating quite the contrast against Jovi’s muscular frame. They’d clearly both taken a tumble. What had happened? The facts weren't lining up in my mind with my usual speed.

  “What happened? Who’s that?” I heard myself asking everyone and no one.

  “What’s going on—?” Bijarki rushed in from another room, soon joined by Vita. His question broke off once he took in the entire scene.

  Vita gasped and fell to her knees next to me in front of Phoenix.

  “We need some help here,” Jovi grunted.

  Bijarki clearly recognized the woman as one of his own kind, and an instinctual frown darkened his face.

  She didn’t look thrilled to see him either.

  Still, he moved over and took on some of the succubus’s weight, as she reluctantly leaned against both Jovi and him for support. A grimace shot across her face when she tried to move her arm, but Bijarki held her tight, his hand firm around her waist.

  Aida’s gasp caught my attention as she joined the chaos and took in the damage. I maintained pressure on my brother’s head, while Aida took Field aside with trembling hands. She pushed him back to lean against a side table that hadn’t been pulverized during his landing. His wings slowly retracted behind him, as Aida tried to ascertain
what his injuries were. More cuts became visible on Field’s body.

  Vita stood frozen from the number of things going on at once.

  “Phoenix, can you hear me?” I called to my unconscious brother. Tears welled up in my throat. “Phoenix, please!”

  Draven’s voice boomed out, piercing through our individual panic attacks.

  “What is going on here?” he shouted over all of us, and we halted our pleas and gasps and mindless fumbling.

  Bijarki kept his focus on the succubus woman, still eyeing her with suspicion.

  Jovi was the first to speak. “Shape-shifters,” he blurted, recovering his breath. “They were after a group of women… I had to… We had to do something… The shape-shifters caught two of them, but I couldn’t let them kill this one too…”

  Draven’s head moved, as if acknowledging an unknown presence in the room. “Woman? This one?” he asked, his voice cool and even.

  “A succubus,” Bijarki interjected, placing an unfavorable accent on the word. She didn’t seem to like his tone either, but she looked too weak to protest.

  “We had to help her,” Jovi insisted. “She was stuck in the swamp. One of those freaks was about to pounce on her. I jumped in to get her, and Phoenix tried to distract the beasts. He held his own for a while but then fell and hit his head.”

  I stared at him with a mixture of awe and horror as he finished explaining what had transpired.

  There was a pause before Draven spoke again. He’d most likely calculated all possible outcomes in that silence while my mind raced with fear for my brother’s life.

  “You left the shield to save a succubus? You have very little regard for your own safety, obviously,” he replied.

  “Can you save the preaching for later?” I burst out. “My brother is hurt, and he needs help!” I could no longer hold in the tears, and they streamed down my cheeks in rivers.

  On hearing me, Draven’s expression softened, and he straightened his shoulders.