The Devil's Third (13 page)

“That’s right,” I confirmed, shifting my weight. “Those doors led to Aosoth’s memories. We went through a couple of them. Did you see us?” The memory of my dad standing on the scaffold popped into my head, and I abruptly cut it off, replacing it with the memory of Boreas helping me.

“No. I didn’t. I didn’t see anything before you had the torch.” Nathan tilted his head to the side and had a funny look on his face. “What’s wrong? Why are you so antsy?”

“I have to pee,” I said. “Is there a bathroom down here?” I hopped from one foot to the next to emphasize how badly I had to go.

He laughed. “Out this room to the right. There’s a little alcove at the end where the bathroom is.”

“I’ll be right back,” I said, rushing out the door.

The small room reminded me of a tiny walk-in closet with just a toilet and sink. After I washed my hands and dried them on a burgundy hand towel hanging beside the pedestal sink, I sneaked a peek at myself in the oval mirror above it. My dark green eyes had a look in them I’d never seen before. Perplexed, I blinked and leaned forward, trying to decipher my image. My pupils held a knowing spark with a depth to them that had secrets tucked between the crevices.

I closed them and thumped my forehead with my fingertips. I hated keeping secrets from Nathan. I just hoped I could keep up the facade of him and me going after the incantations. I had no choice though. I had to try. Carrie was going to be okay now, and I had to make sure it stayed that way, and Tree would be safe as well. At least Tree was in on the deal, and as much as I hated him being involved in Bael’s sinister plot, I had to admit I was glad I wasn’t completely alone in this.

When I returned to the hidden room, everything was put back in place. The smell of incense lingered, an afterthought of the magic I’d stumbled across and roused by forces still elementary to me, forces dormant for centuries until tonight. I didn’t know what that meant. Had I caused a shift in the universe? I shivered from the sudden chill I felt at the possibility of unknowingly opening a door that might create havoc in this world.

Nathan was on the phone, his back turned to me. I could hear Tree’s voice. It sounded both tired and relieved when he asked Nathan if he was sure Aosoth’s memories were gone from Carrie’s mind. I smiled when a flashback came to me of when we were kids, pinky swearing to reassure the skeptical one about the issue at hand.

“Absolutely,” Nathan replied. “Here’s Paige. She’ll fill you in on the rest.” He crossed the room and handed me his cell. I said a silent prayer Tree wouldn’t say anything to tip Nathan off about our bargain with Bael.

I took the phone and sat on the couch while I filled Tree in on everything. Nathan sat beside me, listening. A few times my eyes flicked to Nathan, catching a smorgasbord of emotions crossing his face like surprise, anger, sympathy, awe. I was glad he was hearing this because now I wouldn’t have to repeat what had happened. Kill two birds with one stone, Mom used to say.

A painful ache tugged at the edges of my heart. I missed my mom and dad. I closed my eyes, willing my mind to focus on what Tree was saying, instead of giving in to an internal pity party I was just about to have. I had no time for it, and feeling sorry for myself would get me nowhere. Believe me, I’d felt sorry for myself many times, and nothing good ever came out of it.

“I pinky swear,” I told Tree, applying the memory I just had to ease his worries. He laughed. “My parents promised to take good care of her,” I added, and finished with details of what I saw and heard before they crossed over to the next realm.

“So the music was a lullaby?” Tree asked, fascinated.

“I think so,” I answered. “It was the most beautiful melodies I had ever heard, and I could have easily drifted off into it.”

“Amazing.”

“It was. It sounded like this.” Closing my eyes, I wheeled my mind back to the memory of when I heard the music and began humming it. I didn’t think I did it any justice, but when I finished, I heard a sharp intake of breath from Tree.

“Th-that was extraordinary,” he stammered, his voice sounding rough.

I opened my eyes. Nathan’s gaze was downcast. He must have felt me staring at him because he peeked at me from beneath his long lashes. He looked sad and . . . guilty?

I chatted with Tree for a few more minutes, watching Nathan pacing the room, running his hands through his hair. I knew something was bothering him and ended the conversation with Tree.

“What’s wrong?” I stood and handed Nathan the phone.

“I saw the whole thing,” he said and continued when he noticed the baffled look on my face. “You and Carrie with your parents.” He pointed to the wall, and I knew right away what he was talking about. I gave him a look that said he didn’t need to explain to me about how he saw it, since he now knew it had happened to me as well. “And I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” I didn’t understand why he’d apologize. He didn’t do anything wrong. But it was clear by the heartbreaking look on his face, he felt a deep regret for something.

He ran a hand through his hair again and sighed. “I know how much you miss your parents, and you wanted to leave with them. I also realize the hard life you’ve led since I turned you immortal.”

“Yeah, but it’s not your fault. I chose it. If I hadn’t, I’d be dead right now, and we wouldn’t be together. Not to mention Carrie would still have Aosoth’s memories,” I pointed out.

He held my eyes with his, and in all honesty said, “I would have still turned you immortal that day you bled to death.”

I stared at him.

“I’m a selfish bastard,” he admitted with a shrug. “There’s no way I could ever sit back and watch you die. I love you too much.” He cupped his hands on my shoulders, his gaze locked onto mine. “I feel bad you can’t be with your parents and your life has been a constant struggle since the day you were marked for immortality. However, I’ll never regret loving you too much and keeping you here. I just wish there wasn’t all this strife in your life, and I feel partly to blame for it.”

“Don’t criticize yourself,” I said. “I don’t blame you for anything.”

“You miss them,” he whispered, his eyes glassy with emotion. “I saw the heartache in your face and heard it in your voice when you asked if you could go with them.” With his thumb, he wiped a stray tear off my cheek. “It crushes me, and I can’t do anything about it.”

I swallowed hard and gathered my thoughts as if they were poker chips, and I had to weigh how much I was willing to put out on the table to play out the hand I was dealt.

Sure, I could be with my parents right now if the circumstances were different, but I had made my choice for reasons that far outweighed my desire to hang with Mom and Dad. And if I were being totally honest with myself, it would get old after a while latching onto them. Then what would I do? Mom and Dad had their own life to live, just like I had mine.

No. It was much better this way. I had made the right decision.

I stepped back and turned away from Nathan, clasping my hands on top of my head.

“Paige?” His voice broke. He was worried, probably thinking I blamed him for everything. But that wasn’t the case.

“Give me a minute,” I said, finally stumbling onto the root of my problem.

Of course. My problem wasn’t that I yearned to be dead to this world so I could live in the next life with Mom and Dad. My issue was wanting to have them here in this life with me. And every time I saw them, I wanted to capture what could have been so the hole inside me would no longer exist.

I dropped my hands and faced Nathan. “I figured out my problem, and it has nothing to do with what you did or didn’t do.” I took his hand. “C’mon. Let’s go to bed, and I’ll explain it to you then.”

I longed to be under the covers, all warm and snuggly in his arms. I wasn’t particularly tired, but we had made a silent ritual months ago of crawling into bed and talking for sometimes hours before we fell asleep and now seemed as good as a time as any to do that.

Nathan gave me a ghost of a smile, looking totally bummed. I squeezed his hand and led him up the stairs, too happy with myself to give into the feeling of doom twisting in my gut.

Chapter Thirteen

Nathan

The day after she rescued Carrie, Paige persuaded me to stay home with her and do absolutely nothing. When she suggested it while we were eating breakfast, adding with a tired smile she was exhausted, I didn’t have the heart to disagree. She did look spent, which led me to believe her energy had been drained by last night’s journey. Besides, she looked adorable in her Hello Kitty pajama bottoms with her long hair pulled into a messy bun. There was no way I could say no.

I stayed in my gray sweats and black T-shirt while we lounged around watching daytime TV, being complete couch potatoes. I hadn’t realized how much garbage aired on TV during the day until I flipped channels. There was a reality show about rich housewives getting into cat fights over the dumbest shit, each one of them undeniably plastic. Plastic looks, plastic personality, plastic heart–plastic, plastic, plastic. Then there were the less than meaningful talk shows, serving no purpose but to perpetuate more trash into the minds of humans. I was relieved Paige wasn’t into that sort of rubbish, so we watched sitcoms for a while instead.

As we zoned out on an episode of Seinfeld, my mind drifted to last night, when Paige led me upstairs. “You’re blameless in me not being with my parents,” she told me.

I followed her into the bathroom, and we brushed our teeth together. I shook my head. I turned her immortal, and I ultimately separated her from her parents. I truly felt sorry for it and hoped she didn’t resent me, but I couldn’t be sorry for turning her immortal.

Her dark green eyes flashed up at me in the mirror, the light catching a glint of protest in them. Her lips were lined with white, foamy toothpaste. She frowned before she spat into the ceramic sink.

“Stop feeling guilty. This has nothing to do with you.” She sat on the wooden toilet seat, watching me rinse. The potent antiseptic smell of mouthwash wafted into my nostrils. It had a strong, minty taste. I threw her a doubtful look while swishing the germ killing liquid. “Listen to me,” she said. “I finally realized tonight my parents have their own existence. They have their own path to follow.”

I still wasn’t convinced. I’d seen the expression on her face when her family told her she couldn’t go with them, and in essence, I was the one to blame for the heart-wrenching feeling of rejection I’d seen. The very thought of it raised a lump in my throat.

But after we settled ourselves in bed under the soft flannel sheets, Paige relentlessly made it clear to me it had nothing to do with me turning her immortal. It had to do with her insatiable desire to have her mother and father in her life, but she knew now, even if she were dead, it wouldn’t be the same as having them here in this world. Now that she realized it, she had to accept the fact she’d never have them in this life like Carrie and Tree had theirs.

Once she explained it to me, I understood where she was coming from, and frankly, it was one less worry on my mind. But now, as I sat with Paige curled in a blanket, pressed against my side, the dreaded feeling at the hospital slithered through my stomach. I wondered if I was being paranoid.

Paige looked at me. “What’s wrong?”

My eyes flicked to hers. “Nothing. Why?”

She rocked against me and smirked. “Bull crap. You’re such a liar. I can tell something is bugging you because you keep shifting in your seat, which by the way is getting annoying.”

I laughed. I loved how candid she could be with me and the cute little smirk on her face. “Oh, really?”

She nodded.

“Well, excuse me, madam,” I said in a British accent, “for repeatedly upsetting the position of your bum. For you have a smashing bum that I--”

Paige smacked my arm and giggled.

The corner of my mouth tilted, my eyes narrowing. I imagined holding her down, tickling her until she pleaded for me to stop. She squeaked, and like a jack-in-the-box, she jumped up, a tracer darting across the room. My body jerked forward to follow her, but then her phone vibrated on the coffee table. I bent to look at it when a gust of warm air brushed my face. I looked up, and Paige stood in the same spot as before, except now she held her phone in her hand.

I smiled. “You’re getting good with your speed.”

She returned my smile. “Thanks. It’s Tree,” she said before answering it. She moved to the spiral staircase and sat on one of the steps. “Hey, Tree. What’s up?”

I turned the TV off and kicked my socked feet up on the coffee table. I could hear the dinging sound of rain hitting the copper rain gutters and the dried leaves rustling around the house. I closed my eyes, listening to Tree talk to Paige.

“Yeah, I’ll ask him,” Paige said.

“Tell him I’m not in the mood for training tonight,” I told her before she even asked. I opened my eyes and looked at her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Tell him I’ll do it tomorrow, though.”

She relayed the message, then asked about Carrie.

“She’s sleeping like a baby, thanks to you,” Tree said. He sounded happy and deeply grateful for Paige’s help.

I tried not to listen to their conversation, but I guess my curiosity overrode my blocking abilities. I could turn the television back on; it would be the polite thing to do. I grabbed the remote and channel surfed. I could still hear what they were saying and paid them more attention than the History Channel I settled on.

But then I sat up, my full attention focused on the TV. It was a documentary on King Solomon and his signet ring. Paige moved to my side, staring at it while listening to Tree tell her how Carrie’s vital signs have been perfect and her recovery was meeting the doctor’s expectations. A few minutes later, we both realized we’d seen this show before. She rose and drifted to the picture of us on the fireplace mantel. It was in a square, silver frame. Anwar had taken the photo on the island last summer. It was a romantic caption of Paige and me kissing beneath a waterfall. Later on, we made love beneath it . . . I halted all thoughts connected to the memory of our passionate night. Now wasn’t the time to awaken the physical desires I had for her, so I returned my attention to the show. Then a thought occurred to me, and I turned to Paige. Something in my glance must have alarmed her because she told Tree to hang on and held my gaze. “Do you mind inviting Tree here so he can draw a picture of the cave in your vision?” I knew Tree to be a talented artist. He once showed me his sketch book full of cyperpunk pictures he had drawn, and they were quite remarkable. “Unless, you’re not up to it,” I added, hoping she was, but I decided to push the issue anyway, because it had to be dealt with. Ignoring it wouldn’t make it go away, and I’d point that out to Paige if I had to.