Let the Sky Fall (34 page)

It’s someone else aiming the weapon at his heart. Someone else letting it fly at just the right point in the toss. Someone else running him through with a revolting squish of flesh and blood.

Someone else.

But it’s me who screams. Me who collapses, shaking. Me who can’t get the question out of my head—the one I don’t want to know the answer to, but have to ask anyway.

What have I done?

CHAPTER 54

AUDRA

I
scream as I claw my way to Vane’s side. It all happened so fast, I couldn’t tell who fell first, or why.

He’s not dead. He can’t be dead. Please. Be. Alive.

My hands reach him then, and he’s still warm. He’s curled up on his side, shaking. But he’s alive.

Tears fill my eyes as I search his face, his chest—everywhere—for blood, a wound. He’s perfect. No injuries.

Then I see the Stormer.

The twisted wind spike sticks out of his chest at a jagged angle. Thick, syrupy blood streams in rivers as parts of the wound disintegrate and float away with the wind. His eyes are glazed. His mouth twisted in a snarl. Cruel even in death.

My stomach heaves.

Vane groans.

It hits me then.
Vane did this.

A
Westerly
did this.

I pull him closer, whispering, “Shhhhh.” Trying to calm him.

He shivers harder, his teeth chattering. I wrap my arms around him and press as much of myself against him as I can to warm him. Fire shoots between us, and his eyes clear enough to meet mine.

He shatters into sobs. Low, deep wails of pain and terror.

I pull his head against my shoulder. Stroke his hair. Cling as tight as I can, afraid if I let go he’ll crumble into a million pieces and never put them back together.

The storms slowly calm and the clouds clear, bringing back the sun. Normal winds surround us, singing of hope and relief. But Vane still feels like ice.

How long can he stay like this?

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He groans into my chest.

“I mean it, Vane. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He shakes his head, and the motion rocks his whole body. I squeeze him tighter.

I can’t imagine what he must be feeling. I’ve never killed anyone—and I’m not a Westerly.

I have to say something. Help him. But what magical combination of words will make him okay again? Bring back the funny, obnoxious boy I’ve grown to love?

Love.

I haven’t let myself love anyone—not since my father died.

But I love Vane Weston. And I won’t lose him. I can’t. I won’t be able to survive it.

I try to make him look at me, but his eyes are distant. Lost.

“You saved us, Vane. You made the greatest, most wonderful sacrifice anyone has ever made. You saved me.”

My voice leaves me. I’m overwhelmed by what he did for me. By his proximity. By everything.

He doesn’t move. His eyes stay glazed.

My stomach knots as I realize what he needs. I’m afraid to say it, but I take his shaking hands and coil our fingers together.

He has to be
Vane
again.

“I love you,” I whisper.

Something pulls in my chest as the words leave my lips, but they taste sweet.

True.

“I’ve tried so hard not to love you that I’ve driven us both crazy. But I love you. And I don’t want to lose you. So please come back to me. Please don’t leave me.”

My voice hitches and I choke back a sob. “I need you. I’ve never needed anyone—but I need you.”

I stroke his face as my words trail to silence.

Silence
.

His sobs have stopped. So has his shaking.

I hold my breath as I meet his eyes, afraid of what I might see.

Vane stares at me. Unsure. Weary.

But it’s him again.

My turn to cry.

He reaches up, smoothing my hair. Wiping my tears.

“I really thought I lost you this time,” I whisper. “I’ve lost you so many times, so many different ways. I can’t do it again.”

“You won’t have to,” he promises.

Yes, I will.

He puts his finger on my lips, stopping me before I can say it out loud.

“Whatever you’re going to say, let me say something first.” He takes a ragged breath and sits up on his own, wiping the sand from his face.

He takes my hands. “I’m barely holding it together right now—and the only thing keeping me from losing it all over again is you. So I don’t care about laws or oaths or betrothals. I care about you. I
need
you.”

We stare at each other, neither daring to move. Holding our breath.

“I won’t force you,” he tells me.

I know what he’s asking me to do—and I want to do it. Oh, how I want to.

But can I? Should I?

I study his hands. His eyes. His mouth.

There are so many things about him I want. But that’s it. I want
him
. All of him.

Who has the right to keep us apart? To tell us it’s wrong? That we don’t belong together, when everything about us proves we do. There’s something between us—something deeper than the Gales. Than our laws. Than my oath.

I’m tired of denying it.

So I lean forward. His hands cup my face, soft enough that I can pull away if I want to.

I don’t want to.

I close my eyes and take one more breath. Then I press my lips against his.

CHAPTER 55

VANE

A
ll the times I imagined this moment, I never got it right.

Her lips are sweeter and softer, and they fit against mine like we were formed that way. Everything about us matches. Our breathing. Our movements. And the heat. The delicious fire that ripples through my body before it rushes back to hers.

She clings to me as hard as I cling to her, her hands sliding down my back as I grab her waist and press her against me, so there’s no space between us. I’ll never let anything separate us again.

Now I know why they call it “bonding.”

As we burn and connect, parts of her meld to me. Her strength. Her determination. Her honor. They flow to the cracks in my heart and fill them. Heal the places the violence crushed and shattered. Make me whole. I know I’m doing the same for her.

We were two broken, incomplete people.

Now we’re one.

No one
will ever understand me the way she will.

No one
will ever understand her the way I will.

And no one will be able to change that. We’ve melted together and been reforged into something stronger. Something better.

My hands slide back up to her face, stroking her cheeks before they move to her hair. I want to unravel her stupid braid, let the silky strands fall free so they can tickle my skin. But it’s not worth breaking away. I want to stay right here, right now. Holding her against me. Our lips moving together in a perfect rhythm. Never letting go.

Audra’s the one who finally pulls away—like I knew it’d have to be.

Her chest heaves as she gasps for breath, and I grin when I see her flushed cheeks. The light in her eyes. Her swollen lips.

I did that.

And God—I want to do it some more.

I cradle her face in my hands and kiss her again, slower this time. Like we have all the time in the world. Because we do. We’re safe. The Stormers are gone and . . .

Memories I’m trying not to think about flash before my eyes and everything in me twists upside down and inside out. I break away, holding my head like that could wrangle my thoughts away from the horror show still replaying in my mind.

“What’s wrong?” Audra asks, stroking my cheek.

Her touch calms the panic a little. “I can’t. Not with . . .”

She frowns for a second, and then I see her put the pieces together. Her eyes dart to the place I’m trying not to look.

Even with the added strength from my bond to Audra, I’m not sure I can see it—him. See his lifeless, broken form. Not without going back to the dark place I sank into.

“Close your eyes,” she whispers when I start to shake again.

I don’t argue. I squeeze my eyes shut and press my hands against my ears. But I still feel the winds Audra calls to wrap around the body and float it far, far away.

Somewhere out there is the other Stormer I knocked from the sky. I shiver, even though the sky has cleared and the heat’s beating down in full force.

I hope we never find him.

I can accept what I’ve done—sort of. But I know it’ll haunt me forever. And I don’t ever want to do it again.

Which leaves the bigger question.

I force my eyes open and take Audra’s hands. “Now what?”

“I have no idea. I need to speak with my mother. I hope she isn’t . . .” She looks away.

I’m glad. She misses the way my face twists with rage.

I haven’t forgotten what the Stormer told me about Arella abandoning us during the fight. She made that whole big show, claiming she’d planned to back us up all along. And then she ran.
She has to be the most selfish, pathetic coward I’ve—

“I’d better use the emergency call,” Audra says, interrupting my venomous thoughts. “That should tell her where we are. It’ll alert the Gales, too.”

“Whoa—hang on.
There’s an emergency call?
”

She won’t look at me, and her cheeks flush.

I squeeze the bridge of my nose. “So all this time you could’ve just made a call to the Gales and asked for help?”

“It isn’t that simple. The emergency call broadcasts our precise location for all to see. As long as Raiden didn’t know exactly where we were, it would’ve been too dangerous to use it. But he knows we’re here now, after all the turbulence we’ve caused.”

She stands and whispers the call for an Easterly, a Northerly, and a Southerly and twists them in a pattern that feels familiar—even though I’ve never seen her do it before. Maybe that has something to do with our bond.

She cups her hands around her mouth and blows into the mini cyclone, then whispers, “Launch.”

The funnel narrows until it looks like a piece of rope. It streaks into the sky so high I can’t see where it ends.

She sits back beside me and I take her hand. “Now we wait.”

I can think of a few ways we can pass the time. But I know Audra’s worrying her mother won’t come back.

And I’m trying to figure out what I’ll say when she does.

My blood runs cold when I hear a rush of wind behind us.

“Mother,” Audra says, jumping to her feet.

I stand too, grabbing Audra’s hand to keep her at my side.

Arella rushes toward us. “I’ve been so worried.”

“Really?” I hold out my free arm to block her from getting too close. “Then where have you been this whole time?”

Arella stops, looking just the right amount of annoyed and
ashamed. “I’ve been making my way back here. The Stormers bound me in their stripped winds and launched me into the sky. I barely managed to stop my fall, which is the only reason I survived. And they shot me so far into the desert it took me ages to make my way back.”

“Ages,” I repeat. “You couldn’t just fly back?”

“Vane, what’s wrong?” Audra asks.

“One of the Stormers told me your mom bailed on us during the fight. Ran away with her tail between her legs and left us to fend for ourselves.”

“Well, obviously he lied,” Arella insists without so much as blinking.

I’ll give her one thing—she’s a
much
smoother liar than her daughter. But she’s still full of crap.

“Really? ’Cause you don’t look like someone who was overpowered and flung into the middle of the desert. You don’t have a scratch on you.”

Arella tries to hold my gaze, but breaks eye contact first.

Guilty.

“I landed in a soft sand dune,” she finally explains.

I snort. “Seriously? That’s the best you’ve got?”

She doesn’t have a speck of sand on her.

“You left us?” Audra asks her mother, though she sounds more sad than angry. “When did you leave?”

“I didn’t—”

I cut Arella off before she can tell another lie. “The Stormer said she ran off as soon as they found where we were hiding—which was thanks to your stupid bird, by the way. I told you he was evil.”

“Gavin’s not evil,” Audra says quietly, staring into the distance. The winds pick up around her and she closes her eyes.

It’s an Easterly, singing of unwanted change.

Audra’s eyes snap open. “Why
was
Gavin there?”

When no one answers, she turns to her mother. “You told me you’d send him home—and Gavin would
never
disobey a direct command. So why was he still at the wind farm?”

“How should I know?”

The edge to Arella’s voice doesn’t match the cool, indifferent stare she’s giving us. Neither does the way she’s rubbing nervously at the golden bracelet on her wrist.

She’s hiding something.

Audra must realize it too, because she pulls her hand away from me, backing up a few steps. “Gavin never would’ve stayed if you’d sent him home. And he never would’ve flown to me under those kind of dangerous conditions, not unless . . .”

All the color drains from her face. When she speaks again, her voice is barely louder than the whipping winds. “Did you send him to me?”

“Honestly, Audra—I don’t know what you’re—”

“Please, Mother!” Audra takes several deep breaths before she speaks again. “You’ve never forgiven me for what happened to Dad. Admit it!”

Anger flashes in Arella’s eyes, but whether she’s mad that Audra would think that or furious that Audra figured it out is anyone’s guess. “Audra—”

“The whole ‘making peace’ thing you said last night was just an
excuse, wasn’t it?” Audra interrupts. “You planned this. You wanted to use Gavin to betray me today—the same way I betrayed you. You wanted me to die, didn’t you?
Admit it!
”

Before I can think of something to say to any of that, Arella starts laughing. It’s a cold, mocking sound, and I can’t decide if I want to tackle her or get Audra the hell away from the crazy woman.