Bound By Fate: A Novel of the Strong (20 page)

Cheeks reddened, he spun away. Consumed by a growing sense of helpless agitation, Toran swiped her clothes from the mantle and tossed them over to the bed.
 

“Your clothes are dry enough,” he said. “Dress yourself as best you can. I’m going to get the truck.”

Pausing at the door, he waited impatiently for her to acknowledge he had spoken.

She gave him no answer. Clothes pressed against her chest, she simply studied his face, her thoughts hidden away in the depths of her eyes.

Wanting to apologize but crazed by the intensity of his conflicting emotions, Toran instead found himself baring his teeth to hiss, “I am not tainted with the blood of the faine.”
 

He just couldn’t seem to help himself.

In the bright light of the examination room, the doctor rendered a quick verdict.

“You’ve got a pretty bad ankle sprain and a torn ligament in your knee,” Anara said. “But, luckily, nothing is broken.”
 

Liv squeezed her eyes shut. She sat stiff and hurting on the exam room table, alone with the doctor. A mute and hostile Toran hadn’t bothered to see her inside after their silent ride out of the highlands.

I am not tainted with the blood of the faine.

The last words he had spoken to her had been cold and unkind. Of this, there was no doubt. But Liv had also felt his complete bewilderment. It was as if he were compelled to say things he was expected to say––to push her away––instead of expressing something that might bring them closer together.

Too bad it didn’t matter anymore.

“What did you say?” With effort, Liv forced her thoughts back to the present.

“I asked if you’ve been with Toran since this happened.”

Liv nodded.

Anger flashed in the doctor’s eyes.

“You do know, if he’d get off his high horse and let you feed properly, you’d heal pretty much in an instant,” said Anara. “Gods, he can be such a dick.”

“It’s not like that,” Liv said.

At that, Anara tilted her head.

“Ah, I see,” she said after a moment. “You’re not feeding from him.”

When Liv didn’t offer up an answer, Anara placed a gentle hand on her arm.

“Okay then. Let me give you a shot for the pain.”

“No!” Liv cried as she pulled her arm away.

Anara jerked back in surprise.

“What in the worlds…”

“I’m sorry,” Liv was quick to say, “but I don’t want anything to dull the pain. It’s…” She looked down at her hands. With effort, she unclenched and flexed her fingers. “It’s not exactly pleasant, but it’s something, you know?”
 

And she didn’t know how much longer she’d have any of it, not with the way Toran continued to make her feel.

“I can understand that,” Anara answered kindly. “Let’s just get a boot on you, then, while you heal. Oh,” she added, “I’d also like a nurse to come in to take some blood, if that’s okay.”

“Blood? Why?”

“Mainly, I’m just curious about how you’re put together.” She smiled. “Though you’re the only true full-blooded faine I’m ever going to get to meet, I think it would be beneficial to study your blood make up, to learn more about you.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” Liv murmured. After exhaling a long breath, she asked, “How long do you think I’ll feel it?”

“What, the pain?”

Liv nodded.

“That’s hard to say, given your nature.” Anara pushed with her feet to roll her stool over to the sink. There was a snap of latex as she removed and tossed her gloves. Looking over her shoulder, she gave Liv a quick assessment. “If I had to guess, I’d say you’re at about sixty-five, maybe seventy-percent.”

Anara was spot on.

“Which is more than enough,” she continued, “for you to feel a good bit of the pain, but not nearly enough to help you heal quickly.”

“It seems you already know a lot about my kind,” Liv said.
 

“Yes,” Anara answered as she went to the cabinet to pull out a leg brace. “When you were first found, Toran asked me to look into things, you know, to make sure you’re properly taken care of.”

At that, Liv studied the doctor.

“Is that how you knew of my, what did you call it? Neuropathy?”

“Yes.” Coming back to the examination table, Anara opened up the boot and gently helped Liv position her leg inside the brace.

“What else do you know?” Liv asked as she watched the doctor work.

“Not much.” Pulling the Velcro fasteners taut, Anara affixed the boot snuggly around Liv’s ankle and up and over her knee. She raised her eyes to Liv’s. “Is that good?”

Liv nodded. “Tell me what else you’ve learned about the faine.”

“Unfortunately, most of the ancient texts that referenced your kind were either lost or destroyed during the Great Cleansing,” Anara answered evenly. “The few I have been able to get my hands on are written in riddles, as was the old way. I can only conjecture what any of it means.”

“Do the texts say anything about Toran?”

“Why do you ask?”

“My mother was an historian of sorts.” Liv studied her hands. “She mentioned to me many times growing up that Toran was… different.” Liv lifted her head. “You know, different from other Vimora.”

“He is different, yes,” Anara readily agreed.

“How?” Liv breathed. When it came to speaking of the future, her mother, too, had spoken mostly in riddles. Liv had never been offered a concrete explanation to her ramblings.

Until now.

“Toran was born with a certain genetic flaw,” Anara stated matter-of-factly as she perched back atop her stool. “One that I’ve never be able to explain, or fix. As best as I can tell, it’s a physical anomaly that opens his pores to the venna of others.”

“What do you mean?”

“Toran's venna isn’t like that of other Vimora,” Anara answered in explanation. “Typically, Vimora males are born with a finite amount of venna, venna they struggle at first to live with and, then, eventually die with. At death, that venna is released back into the Mythos––as it should be… to optimally be fed on by the faine.” Her eyes flashed to Liv’s before darting away. “Yet, in Toran’s case, whenever a Vimor daemon dies, the deceased’s venna is added to his own.” Here, she paused. “As you can imagine,” she continued slowly, “this has caused Toran to suffer greatly from the consequences of the Cleansing.”

“A lot of people suffered,” Liv interjected. “I lost my family…”

“And Toran lost his family, too.” Anara raised her hand. “Look, I’m not trying to make excuses for him. But he was a child, just like you were. He was completely blameless for what happened during those times. He lost his father, his mother, and his rightful place as king.” Anara stopped and took a breath before adding, “With the loss of the faine, he also lost all hope of a normal life.”

“What do you mean?”

“Without the faine, he has no outlet, no peace. Over the years, his venna has become…
overwhelming
… to live with
.
”

Liv blinked as she processed this new bit of information. It certainly helped explain the helpless anxiety she felt coming off of Toran at times in waves.
 

But it didn’t explain his anger.

Or did it?

“Toran needs you, Liv. And you need him.” Anara leaned forward to catch Liv’s eyes. “You need to feed from him. Especially now that you’re injured. I know you’ll become mostly numbed to the pain, but unless you feed, it’s going to take forever for your leg to heal properly.”

“I know.” Liv nodded while worrying her lower lip between her teeth. “He has offered but… I don’t know.”

“You don’t want to be hurt.”

“Is it that obvious?” Liv laughed without any humor. “I once thought that I’d give anything to feel, really feel.”

Anara’s forehead wrinkled with confusion. “You shouldn’t feel pain for more than a few seconds before you heal completely.”

Liv squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “That’s not what I mean. Now that I’ve experienced…” She pressed a hand against her suddenly crimson cheeks.

“Now that you’ve experienced being with a male,” Anara prompted.

“We haven’t been together.” Liv looked away. “Not like that.”
 

“That’s not surprising, considering…” Anara sucked in a breath.

“What?” Liv asked. “What were you going to say?”

“You know,” Anara replied as she busied herself to leave, “I should probably get back to my rounds.”

Lunging forward, Liv grabbed the doctor’s arm, her movement made awkward by the bulky boot. “Tell me what you were going to say,” she demanded.

Anara sat back down on her stool and slumped her shoulders, her hands clasped between her knees.

“Please, Anara,” Liv whispered. She could feel her friend’s agonized hesitation.

“He abstains,” Anara said at last.

“Abstains?” Liv repeated. “What do you mean?”

“Listen, Liv.” Anara closed her eyes and sighed. “I’ve said too much already. This is his story to tell.”

“Wait. Wait. Wait.” Liv waved off Anara’s words. “You mean he abstains from sex…” Her eyes went wide, her mind racing back to each time they had touched. A shiver ran across her skin as she remembered the heat of his kiss; the feel of his strong arms around her as he carried her to the cabin; the weight of his gaze as he helped her undress. “Then, why has he…” She swallowed, blinking past sudden tears.

“Why has he what?” Anara asked.

“Oh my gods, he hates me.” Wrapping her arms around her stomach, Liv curled into herself.

“What? How can you say that?” Anara protested. “I’ve never known Toran to hate anyone in his life.”

“You don’t know him very well.” Liv laughed back a sob.

“On the contrary, I know him very well. What has he done to you, Liv?”

“He…” Liv shook her head.
 

“What has he done?” Anara repeated.
 

Liv studied the wall on the other side of the room.

He toys with me.

“His behavior towards me is very confusing, and completely unfair,” she chose to answer at last. “I don’t know what it is he wants from me.”

Anara studied her a long moment before saying, “Look, Toran is a difficult person to get to know…
to understand.
” Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. “Good or bad, there are reasons for how he is. But you have to see that he hasn’t had the easiest of lives. Certain circumstances have molded the way he thinks, the things he believes, and most unfortunately, they have dictated the things he believes he cannot do.” She paused before adding, “
Or have.
”

“That may well be the case,” answered Liv as her heart began to ache, “but I know what
I want.
”

“Which is?”

“I want children,” she answered. “I want a family.”

“Okay.” Anara nodded, her brow creased in thought. “I would think that should be possible, medically speaking,” she said. “I’d say you’d only have to be at a hundred percent, energy-wise, for a while––probably a couple months or so––to be fertile.”

“I figured as much,” Liv answered before falling silent.

“I don’t understand.”

Lips pressed together, Liv inclined her head.

“Ah, I see,” Anara acknowledged slowly. “And you believe that only Toran can give you that.”

Liv gave a little shrug of her shoulders.
 

“So it seems…” There was no use pretending anymore. Liv knew her body––and how it came alive at Toran’s touch, and only Toran’s touch. To have what she wanted most in life––
a family of her own
––she’d have to somehow manage to live forever with heartache. Especially if, or more than likely when, he found someone he deemed worthy enough to share his bed––
to share his life.

She had to believe the pain would be worth it.

A moment passed.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“The only thing I can do,” Liv answered, “if I’m to have what I want.”

“But you have feelings for him,” Anara said softly.

I’m in love with him, stupid fool that I am.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel,” she said instead.

“Have you really thought this through?” Anara reached out to touch Liv’s arm. “Are you sure being Toran’s faine––and only his faine––is something you can live with?”

How to answer that?

“I know what is expected of me,” Liv said. “And I will do my duty. But I refuse to live this way.” Given her overwhelming sense of sadness, she was surprised her voice held as steady as it did. “It’s time for me to let him go. No,
”
she was quick to amend, “it’s time for him to
let me go
.”

Which shouldn’t be that hard, considering how he feels.

Eyes prickling with tears, she lifted her chin.

“From here on out, I’ll take what it is
I need
from him so that I can live my life, on my terms. To do so,” Liv said, “I’m going to need your help.”

*****

Sprawled out on an abandoned gurney, Kellen lay on his side, his head propped up on an elbow. Sight unseen in the hospital hallway, he watched as the Tenn fell apart before his eyes.
 

Though it was thought that Kellen’s mother had been entirely human, she happened to have had a powerful strain of Other in her blood. This fact had afforded her son certain advantages amongst the Strong. Namely, Kellen enjoyed the ability to evaporate into the Mythos, to hide in plain sight wherever he pleased.

It had certainly made things easy for him––especially when it came to staying one step ahead of his brother over the years.

He just wished his addled excuse of a mother would have clued him in on his talents just a bit earlier in his life.
 

Perhaps it could have spared him untold amounts of pain.

His aura flickered.

Resentment burning, Kellen forced his mind back to present.

Earlier, after following the Tenn and his faine out of the highlands, Kellen had been on hand to watch the daemon’s Land Rover roll to a stop at the clinic’s door. Leaving the engine running, Toran had skirted around the front of the truck and, snapping his fingers at a cowering orderly, had demanded a wheelchair.