Soulless (Maiden of Time Book 2) (8 page)

Thirteen

Anticipation

Kiren paced in front of the little church, unable to focus on the script of his pocket Bible. He tucked the little red book into his coat.

Edward and Lester were inside the white building with the priest, informing Lucian of all the battles and changes that had occurred while he was away in the orient. Normally that would be Kiren’s job, but at the moment he was finding it difficult to tether his thoughts.

Batting away a hanging tree branch, he closed his eyes.

Soon.

Soon Alexia would be his. Every second that stood between now and their union was torture. He ached to be for her what she’d been to him: stabilizing, constant, compassionate, hope—the promise of a brighter age. He could hardly imagine their world together, a place bursting with color where every thought, every touch, every interaction held meaning. Never again would he wander alone through the vales of his impossible decisions. Never again would she question her worth. They would share in everything, his wisdom and her selflessness guiding them both into a vibrant future.

He could want for nothing more.

He froze. But if she knew too much, would it change the future? Or the past?

Kiren pulled a hand through his hair. Time. It wasn’t set. If his years had taught him anything, it was that life could change in an instant. Everything he treasured might be snatched away at any moment, and she might have already seen it happen.

Promise me you will keep our secret.
The words echoed in his mind.

He bit down on the bitter oath, souring in his mouth like overcooked Brussels sprouts.

He couldn’t risk it.

Some truths would have to be withheld, but could he do it? Could he fracture that piece of himself and tuck it down so deep she’d never find it? And more importantly, could she truly love him if he couldn’t give her absolutely everything?

Feet crunched through the underbrush. He straightened up, tugging at his coat to smooth the impeccably starched wool, heart skipping a beat. This was it.

Ethel and Nelly emerged through the branches.

He scoured the woods beyond them. “Where is Alexia?”

“Speaking with her father.”

His mouth was instantly dry. “Alone?” He didn’t wait for an answer, speeding past them into the woods. Air caught in his throat, his breathing too shallow. If anything happened to her, right at this instant when the world was about to turn right, he would never forgive himself!

Charles’s bass pulled him forward, the patter of Ethel and Nelly’s feet assaulting him from behind.

“Sir, wait!” Nelly called.

Kiren skidded to a halt. His mouth dropped open.

Silver silk flowed down Alexia’s thin frame and beveled over her hips where a sword hung—an appropriate addition. The crimson band about her neck drew him to her heartbeat, pumping within that perfect breast, rising and falling in short breaths.

Safe. She was safe.

But something was wrong.

He met her eyes. They pulled him into the emerald depths of her forest glade, shaded by the secrecy of hushed woods.

The two women stopped in his periphery as Alexia bit her lip, both hands twining before her. Apprehension twisted in her forced smile.

He hadn’t imagined it. Something was wrong.

“Charles, Ethel, Nelly, will you afford us a moment of privacy?”

“Agh! No you don’t!” Nelly set herself squarely between them, turning him about. He glanced back over his shoulder, and Alexia ducked around her father to meet his gaze. “You ain’t to see yer bride yet!” She arched her neck the direction of the church.

Alexia slipped closer. His pulse quickened.

“Perhaps we might blindfold him if he is only to not see me,” she said.

Kiren silently applauded her. She blushed and grinned bashfully back at him.

Nelly and Ethel exchanged glances. Ethel shrugged. Nelly muttered as she searched her apron pocket and came up with a leftover strip of silver fabric. “Bend down, you.”

He dropped to one knee and the whisper of cloth brushed over his cheeks, blocking out the wooded boughs. He rose.

Alexia slid her silky fingers around his. The staccato of her pumping blood startled him and he listened as the wedding goers paced ahead of them toward the church.

He tilted his head. “What is bothering you?”

She laid her other hand on his arm, and turned him after their escorts. “I have been thinking...”

He overlapped her hand with his own, loving the feel of her skin beneath his. “About?”

“Sarah.”

He nodded, leaves from the previous season crunching beneath their feet.

“And Father. He did not simply let me go, did he? How have you convinced him to consent? He was so adamant against us.”

Huffing, he closed his mouth.

Her fingers slipped between his. “Show me.”

He groaned and squeezed, stopping. “You are certain you wish to witness this?”

“Completely.”

“Do not be angry.”

She shook as though she’d waggled her head. He opened his mind, recalling the memory and sharing it through their connection...

Kiren sat at the foot of the bed as Charles fumbled from beneath his blankets, his nightshirt twisting.

“I told you never to come back!” he growled.

Kiren glanced at the window. So little time...

Charles shoved into a sitting position. “Seven of my servants, seven dead and nearly my daughter as well—all because of you! God knows what else you have done to her—”

“Let us not speak of stealing young women’s virtue,” Kiren said. “I would not want you to feel...uncomfortable.”

Charles’s face reddened.

“Rather, let us discuss your safety, and hers.”

The baron’s flush deepened. “She would be plenty safe if you had stayed away from her.”

Kiren moved to the window, pulling back the drapes to reveal a moonless evening. It was true. If only he’d had that much discipline. “She came to me,” he reminded them both quietly.

“Why are you here?” the nobleman snapped, rising from bed.

“Have you looked at the sky tonight, Charles?”

Blood drained from the nobleman’s face. He growled. “Stay tonight then, and be gone from our lives in the morning.”

Kiren examined his fingernails. “Do you recall the debacle of Alexia’s forced engagement?” An uncomfortable silence stretched. Both of them remembered the bank share owner who had threatened Charles’s estate if he didn’t promise her hand in marriage. “How long before you are placed in a similar circumstance?”

“I will not be blackmailed again.”

Kiren huffed. “And you think that will protect her?”

Charles averted his gaze.

“Your world is not safe for her, and neither is mine.”

“Then there is no safety.” The nobleman glared.

“I know only of one place.” He lifted Charles’s dead wife’s wedding band from the dressing table, recalling the selfless woman who had bourn its tremendous weight, the woman who had raised Alexia.

The baron stepped forward. “You cannot have her!”

Kiren faced the nobleman. “I could have sent someone to rob you of your memories and taken her away.”

“You would not dare!”

“If it was the only way to guarantee her safety, I would!” He challenged the man with a glare. Charles’s eyes widened. “Only I seem to recall a promise. You might remember it as well, something about not tampering with your mind?”

The baron’s shoulders heaved.

“You have a choice to make.” Kiren spun the ring in his fingers. “Give her willingly, or lose her—and not necessarily to me. Can you imagine which fate would be worse?”

The stubborn man’s fists tightened.

Kiren bowed his head. “What is the one thing you desired most of your father?”

Charles blinked, jaw flapping. He closed his mouth and his brows lowered. Kiren read the answer in Charles’s eyes, an answer he wasn’t willing to utter: he had desired his father’s acceptance of Dana.

The nobleman stared at the floor, his shoulders dropping. “This can only end in tragedy.”

“Not so long as I possess breath.” Kiren placed the ring in Charles’s grasp. The baron groaned. “Will you grant your daughter and myself your blessing?”

Charles rubbed his forehead. “I expect to be present for the wedding.”

Kiren grinned. “I shall see you shortly.”

Fourteen

Secrets

Swaying branches and a leafy awning appeared suddenly, Alexia’s skin tingling from Kiren’s touch. The church’s roof poked out of the canopy just ahead and she breathed in the reality: They were about to be married.

A tear streaked down her chin and her cheeks ached from the depth of her grin.

Kiren’s fingers swept from her ear to lips, catching the moisture. “You are sad? Have you...” He cringed. “Have changed your mind?”

“Never.” Let the earth fold in on itself, life could not be more wonderful.

“Tell me, love, are they watching us?”

Or perhaps it could. Their friends’ voices carried between trees, but they were obscured by trunks and bushes. She stepped closer. “No.”

He chuckled. “And what shall you do with me, as I am your own, blind captive?”

Alexia pushed up on her toes and their lips met. She ran her hands down his chest and pulled his arms around her waist. He groaned, fingers cinching the material about her center. She parted her lips and wriggled closer. He enwrapped her, the floodgates of restraint obliterated.

The realm they shared burst into light, and she skipped through it like a stone on water, diving deeper into him. Scenes whirled by her, some distinct and open, but some guarded by a smoky haze, as though cloaked in shadow.

Strange.

She pressed forward and parted a veil.

His mouth tore away from hers. He stumbled back a step, nearly losing his balance. She reached to steady him, but he regained his equilibrium. His lips pressed tight, both hands cupping his brow.

Kiren pulled his hands through his hair, catching on the blindfold. “Boundaries. We must establish boundaries for what is and is not acceptable.”

She scowled. “Am I to understand that, as my husband, you will hold me at arms’ length? What are you so afraid I will discover?”

His shoulders hunched inward. “I can teach you to shade your own thoughts.”

Deflecting. Why was he always deflecting? Her fingers cut into her flesh. She whirled and started toward the church to find Ethel and return to the estate. Perhaps there would be no wedding after all.

“Alexia?” He stumbled after her, tearing the blinder off and throwing his arms around her. “Please, dearest.” His eyes crinkled, the inner tides swirling with agonizing demons. She wanted to wash them away, to banish them to a moored island where they might never escape to torment the man she loved.

The muscles in his cheeks twitched, straining to pull the corners of his mouth upward. “Ask me anything and I will answer, but give me time to open my thoughts.”

“Anything?”

He nodded.

She lay her palm flat against his chest, over the medallion. “Lightning. When I was almost...” She swallowed. “Who brought the lightning? Ethel was crippled, Lester was gone, and Bellezza hasn’t the strength or I should have seen it before.”

His grasp on her shoulders tightened uncomfortably. “I lost you once. I will never lose you again. You are my life, Alexia.”

“
You
summoned lightning?”

He looked away.

She worked to slow her breathing. “What else can you do?”

“Nothing.” He caught her chin. “My gifts are limited to healing and reading thoughts. The medallion, however, is a weapon and can be used to call upon the forces of nature. I have never told anyone that for fear they would try to wrestle it from me, nor have I used it in that fashion save twice.”

“Sir?”

Alexia twirled.

Edward stood in the distance, twisting his coattail. “Bellezza has vanished, and...”

Kiren’s back straightened, his grip falling away from her arms. “Tell me, Edward.”

The memory keeper’s eyes turned to Alexia, and he cleared his throat.

Kiren’s forehead smoothed. “She will very soon be my wife and equal. Speak.”

Edward scowled, continuing quietly. “Right before she disappeared, Lucian said the young lady debated turning you over to the Soulless.”

Kiren’s brow tweaked. “She is always pondering—”

“Not like this, sir.”

He groaned. “Take Ethel and track her—after the wedding.”

Edward scratched the back of his neck. “Perhaps it would be best if we rescheduled?”

“No.” Kiren’s fierce eyes radiated a heat that sent waves of awe and excitement racing through Alexia’s veins.

Edward’s jaw squared. “As you wish, sir.” He spun and crunched away.

Bellezza would not be present. It shouldn’t have hurt, but Alexia’s heart pricked. She thought they had come to an understanding, that the girl would accept their union. Just one more absence to add to the number of people who should be here today.

“I cannot wait to be yours,” she whispered. “But I do wish—” She stopped short. It was a cruel thought, and even crueler to state.

He tipped her chin toward him, brows scrunched low.

“Sarah.” The single word barely escaped.

His nose flared.

“She would have been present.” She choked on the rest of the statement.
If she hadn’t been attacked by John, by the Soulless.
Alexia blinked back a tear. He’d tried so hard to save her aunt, and still she’d been lost.

His piercing eyes delved into her, like plunging a sword made of water through her being. “You have made so many sacrifices for me. You have made me what I am.”

A chilly wind prickled over her arms. She glanced back over her shoulder as the breeze faded, unable to meet his stare. “
You
have made you what you are.”

“Before meeting you, I was a selfish young man who cared only for the family and life he had lost.”

Alexia laughed. “You? Selfish? That is impossible.”

He brought her fingers to his lips, grinning. “Would you like to know a secret?”

She nodded anxiously.

He leaned in to her ear. “That morning on the roof, that was not the first time I kissed you.”

“What?”

Kiren’s cheek dimpled, pulling at his scar. “The night of your sixteenth birthday, you were entrenched in nightmares. It pained me to see you thus, and I...”

She gasped. “You did not!”

He smirked.

She covered her mouth, cheeks threatening to split for her smile. “How did I not wake?”

“You did.” He waggled his eyebrows. “But I escaped before you discovered me.” The mirth faded. “As you will recall, I had determined you should not know me and feared it would be my only chance to experience your lips.”

She jerked free of his grasp. “You rogue!”

“Guilty.” He chuckled.

She crossed her arms. “How dare you sneak into young girls’ rooms and force yourself upon them!”

“Only one.” He touched her nose. “And I knew even then I should love her far deeper than I dared.”

The confession melted through her bones. Twirling her arms around his neck, she pushed up onto her toes, and whispered, “That was not the only time we met, the evening when you stole a kiss?”

“Hardly. When you were seven, you injured your ankle in the woods. I carried you home. That memory was taken at your father’s request.”

“What else?”

“Every winter, when I came to heal your surrogate mother, I’d find you waiting in the hall—always the same place. Sometimes we would talk. Sometimes you would stare. Every time I found it nigh impossible to leave.”

She squeezed closer and shivered for joy.

He asked, “Do you remember returning home after Sarah’s wedding?”

Focusing, she tried to bring the memory back. “When I was eleven?”

Kiren nodded. “You were so distraught. That night I joined you in the nursery and read to you until the sun rose.”

It was one of her strongest memories, but she’d never been able to identify the reader. She’d always assumed it was a servant who no longer worked under Father’s employ.

He kissed her cheek. “Edward only took what was necessary.”

“That memory is what spurred me into reading for comfort. The words were such a balm. You were such a balm.” Alexia tickled a finger down his neck. “Tell me more,” she whispered.

“When you were quite young, I often met you and Sarah in the woods. You called me
the woodsman
, and I thought it adorable. We would play games, and Miles usually joined us. It was the only true play he experienced.” His smile faded.

“I knew Miles as well?” Alexia teased his collar.

His head tilted, pain clenched in the wrinkles about his eyes.

She slipped free from him, guilty and saddened for bringing Miles up and the part she played in his absence. In exchange for her, Miles had given the Soulless access to his mind, to his knowledge of Kiren’s entire infrastructure—along with his gift,
his seeing through others’ eyes
. He would forever be running from the Soulless, and all because of her.

She hated herself for coming between them. Miles had been like a son to him, a prodigy gone wrong, a danger and blessing all in one.

Alexia touched Kiren’s arm.

He focused on her. “He is strong. He will be happy.”

She nodded.

“Come now,” Kiren twirled her about, a teasing smirk twisting his mouth upward. “I believe we have a wedding to commence.”

Alexia trotted through the trees, fingers linked through his, returning his world-bursting grin. Was there anything so complete as simply being with him? So long as she had this, had him, let wars and sorrows rage. Nothing could stay her joy.