Tide (4 page)

I need sugar now.
The room was spinning again. Sarah assembled her cup of tea quickly – teabag, sugar, milk – before Nicholas could interrupt her, before her thoughts could go adrift again. She took a sip of it at once, scalding her lips.

“I told Aunt Juliet that
Harry
is in London for business.”

“Right.” Nicholas nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off her.

“That he’ll be back after Christmas.”

“And it’s a lie.”

Sarah nodded, looking away.

“The guy is crazy, Sarah. Who in their right mind would pretend to be your cousin?”

“Cathy said … She said Sean killed Harry to steal his identity.”

Nicholas shrugged. “Does it matter at this stage? The point is that he lied to you. You can’t trust him.”

“No. No, I can’t. I know that.”

“You’re with me now. Don’t forget that.”

“No, of course.”

“So what are you going to do? About the house, I mean?”

“I have no idea. I’ll be eighteen next October. If I manage to throw Juliet off the scent until then …”

“Why don’t we …pretend? Why don’t we tell her I moved in? I’ll still be sleeping in my house – mostly …” Sarah looked away. The mention of “sleeping” made her heart beat faster. “But we tell her I’m staying here. That we’re serious.”

“That would freak her out!”

“Yes, but better than you moving in with them and bringing who knows what to their doorstep! And anyway, we are serious, aren’t we?”

“Yes. We are.” Sarah drew a breath. He was right. That was the worst-case scenario, but a possible one. Not only having to leave her home and all that it contained, but also putting Aunt Juliet and her family in danger. That couldn’t happen.

“Okay,” she whispered.

“Settled, then. Don’t worry, I’m a good liar.” He laughed.

“So am I,” she replied seriously.

Nicholas took her face in his hands, and kissed her – so gently, so slowly, that she forgot all about her sugary tea. When he let her go, she was too dazed to swallow anything. Her hunger was gone. Again. She felt she might faint.
I know that love is supposed to make you lose your appetite, but this is a bit much
.

“I’ve got to go.”

“Don’t go,” she heard herself pleading. A knot of unease settled in her stomach. This wasn’t like her. She was turning into someone else, someone she didn’t know.

“I’ll be back tomorrow!” he reassured her, smiling.

Sarah followed him down the hall and watched as he pulled his jacket from the hook. She couldn’t put off asking him any longer.

“One last thing, Nicholas.”

“Yes?”

“When school finishes for Christmas, I’m going to go to Islay. For the whole holiday. My family has a house there. I was wondering …”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Of course. I’d love to go with you. Is that what you meant to ask me?”

“Yes, yes it was.”

“Deal.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, you know my parents won’t be around, and I can’t let you out of my sight, can I? It’d be too dangerous.” He slipped his arms around her waist again.

“Settled, then. Christmas on Islay,” she said, her face against his chest once more.

“I can’t wait.”

He walked down the stone steps, Sarah following him with her eyes, leaning on the doorframe. She watched him go, then closed the door. There was still the cleaning to do – weird how much mess making a cup of tea could generate – and then she could drag herself to bed, to a dreamless sleep.

Is this love

If every time you go

I fall?

The night was busy and full of sounds, as always around the Royal Mile approaching Christmas time. Bright shop windows, people coming in and out of restaurants and pubs, voices in many languages and the inevitable piper entertaining the tourists. And still, there was something in the mist curling around the stones of the ancient buildings, something in the white moon above and in the dark winding streets, that made Edinburgh look mysterious and slightly sinister even on the busiest, liveliest of nights.

Nicholas felt at home there. Nowhere else in the world, no other places he had passed through or lived in during his years of wandering resonated with him as this Scottish city did. There was something black and rotting in the heart of Edinburgh, a taste for death that called to him. He often walked the streets and closes and wynds until late, and sometimes until dawn – he hardly needed any sleep to sustain his human body – letting the cold and dark seep into his bones.

As he strode down the Royal Mile, Nicholas attracted quite a lot of attention – with his black clothes and his height, he towered over the passers-by. He always got a few second glances, especially from girls and women mesmerized by his perfect, flawless face and his muscular frame. Nicholas never seemed to have to yield to anyone in his path. People moved left and right to avoid bumping into each other, with unspoken agreements of looks and body language, but Nicholas walked straight on. He wasn’t aggressive with it – he didn’t elbow people, he didn’t glare at them, he didn’t even look at them. They seemed to move of their own accord to let him pass, the stream of people opening up in two wings, with the black-clad young man in the middle.

That night he felt unusually peaceful. Things with Sarah were going according to plan. He hadn’t lied to her about her safety; she would be spared. She was no longer in danger of losing her life by the hand of that deranged woman, Cathy Duggan and her Valaya. She wasn’t in danger of being attacked by the Surari at all. They’d keep coming at her, but it’d just be a well-rehearsed dance, under Nicholas’s supervision.

They won’t touch a hair on your head, my Sarah. You’ll follow me to the Shadow World, and be my wife for the rest of days. You and I will guard the opening between worlds, and my chains will be so much more bearable, and the darkness less daunting because of you. Your skin will turn as pale as mine, and you’ll dream more than ever – you’ll hardly ever be awake.

But Nicholas knew that there was some way to go before he could call Sarah his own. He needed to convince her that going with him was her only choice. No woman could be forced to be the King of Shadows’ bride. She wouldn’t be able to be tied to the Shadow World then. No, she had to come willingly, as his mother had.

Once again, his mother’s face came to haunt him, shimmering in the shop windows, in the moonlit puddles, in every woman he saw. It was the face that appeared in his sweetest dreams, a distant memory of happiness never to come back.

Ekaterina Krol
chose
to marry the King of Shadows. He’d used her newborn baby, little, vulnerable Nicholas, and the desperate need of mother and son for each other as a bargaining tool to convince her. Her whole family had warned her of the dark stranger, a man who often disappeared for days without a word – even the King of Shadows, with all his powers, couldn’t be away from the Shadow World for long periods at a time. She didn’t listen, of course. Nicholas’s father had used on her the same mind-moulding that Nicholas was using on Sarah, and it didn’t take long for him to own her mind. By then, he knew Ekaterina’s thoughts inside out; he came to believe that the best way to break her would be to make her a mother, and use the baby as a way to lure her into the Shadow World.

And he was right. Ekaterina’s and the King of Shadows’ son, the heir of Shadows, came into the world not long after. Ekaterina was smitten with her son; she called him Nicholas, after her own father, and for a short moment she was happy.

But one night, when the baby was only a few days old, she woke up to find him gone. She and her family searched everywhere, day after day and night after night. Ekaterina wandered the woods in despair, calling her son’s name. It was on one of these lonely expeditions that the King of Shadows appeared to her and told her the whole truth: who he was, where he’d taken Nicholas, and how the only way for her to ever be with her son again was to shed her body and follow them both, son and father, into the Shadow World.

Many long years of life in the darkness as a spirit, with the man – or
what
was he? – who had betrayed her was a horrifying prospect, but a life without her son, or even one more day, one more hour without him – was worse.

And so Ekaterina shed her body and was bound to the Shadows.

Sarah Midnight
, Nicholas thought dreamily.
I’ll be the one who saves you over and over again, from the Surari, from your family’s interference, from feeling alone, with nobody knowing what your life is really like. I’ll be the only one who knows your secrets, I’ll be your lighthouse in the storm, the one you can rely on in a chaotic world. I’ll make you weak so that I can be strong for you. I’ll make you unable to stand on your own two feet so that I can be the one who props you up. I’ll make your body ill and worn so that you’ll long to be free of it. I’ll make sure you’re alone, and then I’ll be the one who rescues you from the ice in your heart.

The thought of Sarah broken and dependent on him filled Nicholas with anticipation. He walked on, revelling in his human body and his god-like powers. The night enveloped him and filled him with blessed, welcome darkness. For a moment, the constant whirlpools of his mind had stopped, giving him some relief – and life, and his predicament, and his future, seemed nearly bearable.

And then, the flames in his mind exploded again. No warning, no hint that it was all about to start. It was a sudden explosion of voices, screaming at him from inside his brain. His head spun for a moment, the night sky and the pavement swapping places, and the familiar smell of burning and of rotting, hidden things hit his nostrils. The smell of death. The smell of home.

The voices from the Shadow World were screaming, calling, clamouring for attention. And among those voices, the one that had no need to scream, the one that would always be listened to, the one that claimed his life, his will, his very own soul: that of his father, the King of Shadows.

Nicholas regained his balance and walked on, wincing, trying with all his might to keep his thoughts on the Edinburgh night, on his steps, on the people around him. On reality. He just didn’t want to be cut up inside again, he didn’t want to open his mind to his father. Not that what he wanted mattered at all. Peace, for Nicholas, never lasted long.

There was only one solution, one way to block out the voices at least for a little bit: human company. Human voices and human bodies to keep him tethered to this world, away from the shadows.

Nicholas made his way into a club and came out not much later with a small, blue-haired, bird-like girl on his arm. It was as simple as that for him. Like picking a flower from a field. It wasn’t entirely natural, of course. Some of Nicholas’s charisma was very much about mind-moulding – and often the girls would have flashbacks for weeks and months afterwards, wondering what made them follow the tall, dark-haired man who whisked them away so easily and then didn’t speak a word the next morning.

Her name was Laura. Nicholas held her hand tenderly on their way to his townhouse. For all the hatred in his heart, for all the anger he felt and that terrible, irresistible desire to destroy that ran in his veins, he would not harm her. He kept the anger for himself and burnt silently. For one night he would caress her, and touch her hair as gently as a mother, and kiss her as if he was in love.

Love was part of the fantasy. Tenderness was something he looked for in them, the girls he couldn’t tell one from another. They had to be beautiful, and none of them could have long black hair; he couldn’t bear that, he couldn’t bear to be reminded of the girl from long ago. Only Sarah would do that for him and still be there the next morning, still be his.

Laura. She would talk about her job and her family, she would laugh nervously and accept another vodka. She would be wholly and entirely human, with her worries about make-up and a compact mirror falling out of her bag and a run in her tights, and the photo of her nieces in her wallet. He would hold her and speak to her long into the night, and prevent her from falling asleep so that he would not be left alone to the calls of the Shadow World. Until her eyes would close, and eventually he’d have to give up and answer his father’s call, as the noise in his head grew louder, unbearable.

Nicholas couldn’t stop thinking of Sarah as he kissed the blue-haired girl. It would have to be just Sarah and him in the world soon. Nobody else for her, nobody else for him, ever again. So this is what he’d have to do: the people closest to her would have to die. They’d just distract her otherwise. She’d have to be properly alone but for him, and she couldn’t be if she had aunts and best friends and all that bloody farce of a family, could she?

I’ll take my time, and when you’re ready, the journey will begin. From Scotland to the gate of the Shadow World, every step forward will be another drop of your faith in life trickling away. Shame I couldn’t just move in with you now. It would be so good to spend all my time with you, day and night. But it’d be too soon. My control of your mind is not strong enough yet, though it seems to be working extremely well – and you might get suspicious. I hardly sleep, I hardly eat, my father contacts me when I least expect it. And I’m
often surrounded by my Elementals. How much I would have loved it to be me and you, as good as married already … but I have to be careful
.

The last time they had worked on breaking a chosen wife … It didn’t end well, and all their plans were shot to pieces. They couldn’t make that mistake with Sarah.

The girl from long ago.

For a second, the blue-haired young woman resting on his pillow looked at him with black eyes, and not her own blue ones – and the arms entwined around his back were amber-skinned and not white. For a second the girl from long ago, the one chosen before Sarah, the one he’d loved … she lay on his bed and called his name.

Laura lay asleep beside him, her dress draped over the end of the bed, her shoes and her coat abandoned on the wooden floor.