Soulless (Maiden of Time Book 2) (13 page)

Twenty-Five

Soulless

“Alexia?” Sarah covered her mouth.

Alexia clung to the table. Her aunt’s voice, like the flow of honey over glass paper, had not changed. The relief-joy-terror in her aunt’s single pronouncement summoned her like the siren call of fresh baked bread. Moisture pooled in Alexia’s eyes, but she could not move under the power of that crimson stare. She remembered a night—had it only been a month ago?—when similar eyes encircled her with promises of love and fulfillment, their appetites bubbling below the surface.

Alexia’s cheeks were wet. “You are alive.”

“
You
are alive!”

“Of course I am alive.” Alexia blinked, confused.

Sarah deflated to her knees, knuckles white against her clamped fists. “You are injured?”

Alexia glanced down at the stains, now almost black in the firelight. “I am not harmed.”

Sarah covered her nose with the corner of her cloak, looking away. “How did you find me?”

The pressure holding Alexia immobile vanished, hairs on her arms standing at full length. “I found
you
?”

Crimson pupils turned back on her. Alexia’s heart halted, then resumed with a tremor.

“Did you not?” Sarah asked, her brows puckered.

Alexia hesitated. Her aunt belonged to the opposing force. Even now she could see the restraint in Sarah’s every effort, and anything Alexia said would be used against her once the her aunt joined with the collective consciousness of the Soulless.

Her teeth clamped. “John did this to you.”

Sarah’s head shook. “I did this to me.”

Her aunt had had no comprehension, no warning about the persuasive powers of the Soulless previous to her association. It could have been prevented, all of it!

“
John
will pay.” Alexia couldn’t hide the loathing his name inspired.

“No, Alexia, he is my—”

“Husband. I know.”

Sarah nodded. “And he is good to me. He did not want this, but circumstances—” Her eyes darkened and Alexia could almost hear her unuttered curse against Bellezza. “—determined otherwise.”

“
Is
good to you? You call
this
good?” She motioned to her near-sister’s tensed frame.

That scarlet gaze paralyzed Alexia, but not in fury. In empathy?

“Oh, Alexia. John said they would hunt you, that they would kill you, that I...” Her head bowed in shame.

“Where is John?”

“Not here.”

“Then where?”

“Searching for you.”

Alexia swallowed. “Why would he be searching for me?”

Sarah slid the tiniest bit closer. A tremor rattled through Alexia. “He wants you safe,” her aunt whispered.

“No, he wants me dead.”

Sarah’s locks shook. “He fights too. Lexy, he has told me things... I do not know how much I believe, but there is more to this than simply a war between the Soulless and Passionate. There are factions, there are plots and schemes and,” her eyes grew wide, “so many of them circle about you.”

Cold air threatened to close off her passageways. “Because I will one day marry the leader of the Passionate?”

Sarah blinked and clasped her hands together as though she wished to congratulate her niece. Her face fell, head bowing. “Because you can...can change time.”

The intensity in Sarah’s stare communicated a wish she didn’t appear bold enough to state, and yet to watch her near-sister hesitate took Alexia off balance. Thank goodness for the solid seat beneath her. Her aunt wanted her to fix things, to go back, to stop it from happening. Oh that she could! “I cannot
change
the past.”

Sarah’s eyes closed. “John said you could. That is what they believe—the others, the Soulless who rule m-my kind.”

Alexia leaned closer. “There are rulers?”

“Groups, Lexy. Factions. Some are good, some are bad. They are all looking for solutions, or power, or ways to fulfill their...lusts.” Her focus remained fixed on the floor. “The strongest hierarchy has hired mercenaries and promised favors and power to any who can bring you to them.”

“Because they think I can change time?” she suggested incredulously.

“Perhaps. Maybe that is simply what they wish us to believe. They may only wish for you as leverage over—” she scowled, “—
Arik
.”

Alexia frowned. The alias was one Kiren had allowed Sarah to use for him, and her aunt had adored him, even expressed hopes of marriage.

“It is not his name,” Sarah spat. “It is simply one he gives to persons like me.”

Alexia twisted her fingers over her skirt.

“You are not surprised?” Sarah’s lip drew upward.

Alexia sat back. Her aunt moved forward in the same instant. Alexia nearly fell out of her chair.

“Do not!” Sarah squealed and grabbed at her ears, face squeezed in intense concentration. “Do not pull away. Do not run from me! I will give chase, whether I wish to or not. I cannot stave the instinct!”

Alexia froze.

Her aunt retreated a couple steps, hissing as she went. A strange rattling echoed through the chamber. Sarah’s crimson stare burrowed into Alexia. “He is not who he says he is, and I am not convinced he is entirely good.” A rasp filled her tone with fire.

Did this come as a result of her Soulless state or true wrath? “I love him, Sarah.”

“Please, Alexia, nothing is quite what it seems!” She closed the distance.

Alexia held still—terrified to run and draw her aunt after. Uncomfortably warm fingers seized her shoulders, severe pupils consuming the whole of her attention. “He took your memories. He took mine. He has deceived us both, and how many others, I cannot say.” Sarah’s grip tightened. “Trust only yourself. Be so careful!”

A wild shudder ran through them both. The fire dimmed. Sarah pulled away, backing out the doorway, fierce belief in her terrified expression. She whirled and escaped.

The room warmed. Flames leapt to life.

The dog cowering under Alexia’s chair emerged. Her knuckles turned from white to pink and the chill slowly dissolved from her bones—except the one Sarah’s words had left.

Kiren had taken her memories when she was a child because she’d been terrified from a Soulless encounter. Father had begged him to do it, and he’d complied out of a sense of mercy. How much more had he taken, and would she ever know for sure unless she dug the memories out of his mind?

She shivered. Why else would he fear her diving into his past, if not for some memory he feared she might recover?

Alexia twisted her ring. Did she trust Sarah? Could she afford to believe her, or had this been a play, an attempt by the Soulless to weaken and confuse her—as Kiren had counseled they would? But even he had warned her against trusting him entirely. If she couldn’t recall her past, she couldn’t recall it and there was nothing she could do about it.

Or was there?

“Dana...” Her mother waited in the absence of time, a dimension without physical limits, and surely she had seen all.

Hinges creaked. Kiren knelt suddenly at her side. “You are pale, dearest.” He took her hands.

She cringed. How could he bear to kneel so near, to stare openly into her eyes or pledge his love when he was hiding things—more stolen pieces of her? She turned her gaze to the dog, wishing the animal would move and validate her change of focus.

“Alexia, no one can hurt you here.”

She bit down. “You intend to leave me here, do you not?”

“Love—”

Mae stepped into the room, carrying a steaming bowl and wedge of bread. “Hope I am not disturbing a lover’s conference.”

Alexia flinched. How did Mae know about them—a woman she had only barely met, one who had been too distant to possibly hear about the wedding?

Mae placed the food on the table before Alexia, turning to Kiren. “And now I will see to that horse.”

He rose and slipped a pouch into her hand. “Fed, watered, and ready to rest in your care. Take care of my Alexia?”

Alexia huffed.

“You doubt me?” Mae placed a fist on her hip.

A grin spread across his face. “Never.”

The woman’s brow pleated. “I suppose there will be no convincing you to rest the night?”

He grunted.

She lifted both hands in surrender. “Not my place to tell you what a fool’s move it is to travel on a moonless night, but you protect that neck of yours. I know someone who will be a might bit troubled if something should happen to it.” She winked Alexia’s direction and turned to climb the stairs.

Alexia picked up her spoon and prodded at her stew. “She is right, on all accounts.” 

He scowled. “Eat your dinner.”

She ate, conscientious of Kiren’s dulled visage, and yet breathless for how close he sat—as if he needed to monitor her every bite to be certain she obeyed. She had but to shift and her hip pressed against his. She forced herself not to look up for fear his adoration would freeze her appetite, and that he might apprehend the curious mutinies she’d stowed to debate.

His fingers drummed across the table. “This building and the yard to the rear are protected, but move beyond the line of blossoms and you leave safety.”

“You marked the space?”

A smile quirked his cheek.

“Then why is it you did not bring me here to marry me—if it is safe?”

He sat back and pulled both hands through his hair, gripping his ginger waves and sighing through clenched teeth. “A proper wedding in a proper church, is that too much to hope for?”

She reached up and caught his hand, laying it tenderly between hers. “You are not going without me.”

“I will not have this argument.” His fist slammed into the table. She jumped. “Our offensive will be hard and fast. You are not able to travel as I do, and I cannot be worried for your safety.”

“Yet I am not afforded the same courtesy?” She glared back, angry. “And what will you do if they discover I am here?” She waved toward the door. “What if they drag me away—beyond the safety of these borders?”

“I will not be gone long.”

“Sarah is here.”

His jaw clenched. “Where?”

She couldn’t meet his stare. “I do not know, but I saw her.” She curled both hands in her lap, too angry to touch or be touched by him. “Do not leave tonight.”

The hunger in his world-consuming gaze stole her breath. She wanted to throw free all barriers and embed herself in his starry sky—who cared the consequences!

He leapt back from her, rising. “I must go, and quickly. We can only track the Soulless during moonless evenings.” His frown spoke of a deeper depression he’d been concealing—or perhaps one she perceived only because of his diminished glow. A sigh rattled out of him. “Your room is ready.”

Mae emerged from the upper hall, bracing against the white-washed wall for guidance. “I lit the tapers and turned the sheets back. I will be around to gather you, once I have water boiled for a bath.”

Alexia took Kiren’s offered arm, glancing worriedly at the windows. Was Sarah watching? Did she know about his amulet’s absence? And if so, would her aunt attack him the instant he left safety?

She had to convince him.

His lips made a tight line as they ascended to the upper floors. She took this as his signal to keep quiet while other ears might overhear—though she desperately longed to apologize for her omission.

He pressed the door wide and waited for her to enter. Beyond stood a double-wide bed, covers open, large enough for—dare she think it—them! Arched planks walled in the far side of the mattress, a window blinking against two candles that bathed a portion of the aging floorboards, giving the room a rustic feel.

Kiren followed her in, pulling the door nearly closed, sealing them into the confinement alone. His arm looped around her waist, crushing her to him, lips madly engaging hers.