A Dance with Darkness
Page 13
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His words sent a chill up my spine. “Does Cadan know who he is descended from?” I asked. “Does he know what he is?”
“No.”
“Why not? He deserves to know.”
Bastian gazed absently down at his hands, avoiding eye contact with me. He was quiet.
“Don’t you trust him?” I asked. “If there is anyone you can trust, it would be your son.”
He looked at me then, his cerulean eyes questioning. “Can I trust you?”
I cupped his face with my hand and turned him to me. “You know you can. May I tell you a secret now?”
“Anything.”
“Aldebaran is my grandfather,” I said.
The ghost of a smile passed over his beautiful lips. “That explains a lot.”
“You may be afraid of what your angelic lineage means, but don’t be. It’s where the goodness in you comes from.”
He shook his head, pulling away from me. “I have no goodness in me.”
“You do,” I urged him. “If there was no goodness in you then you wouldn’t feel guilt for what you’ve done.”
“I don’t want to feel the guilt anymore,” he said softly.
I watched him carefully, unsure if he meant that he wanted to do the right thing, or that he wanted to do what he wanted without feeling remorse. I knew there was hope for him to abandon the demonic. He could if he wanted to, but it would be hard. There were conflicting natures within him, tempting him to yield to either his demonic or angelic side. But I believed in him. I believed he could do the right thing.
8
THE MOMENT I WOKE UP, I WAS SICK IN THE WASHbowl by the bed. After the fright Bastian gave me last night, I’d slept poorly and my entire body ached. It seemed as if the stress only grew worse, because now I was sick with it. I couldn’t stop thinking of the state I’d found him in. The smell of blood still made me ill. Simply thinking about it made me throw up again.
Bastian had already gone and I was alone in the room, but not in the house. I sensed the presence that I now recognized as Cadan. I wouldn’t mistake him for his father again. He was coming out of one of the studies when I descended the staircase. He looked up at me, concern furrowing his brow, watching how tightly I gripped the railing to keep my balance.
“Are you well?” he asked, and took my hand to help me down the remaining couple of steps.
I smiled gratefully at him. “I’m a little shaky this evening. Where is Bastian?”
“He’s just gone out,” Cadan replied. “He should return soon.”
“Why are you here and he is not?” I didn’t like the idea of Bastian instructing Cadan to stay here and guard me, and I hoped that was not the case.
He opened his mouth and shut it quickly. He licked his lips and tried again. “I made a mistake,” he said, his tone bitter. “Bastian is cleaning up my mess.”
Despite myself, I became afraid for him. Bastian had already proven himself to have a short temper when it came to Cadan. “What mess?”
He didn’t get the chance to answer. A terrible, wrathful power surged through the manor right before the front door blasted open. The pressure hit us both, knocking the wind from our chests and our bodies off balance. I gave Cadan a fearful look, but his own expression was stone hard.
“Let me talk to him,” I said. “Whatever happened, it’s not the end of the world. It can be fixed and I’ll help you.”
His face became tired and sorrowful. He didn’t believe me, but I would try regardless. Bastian had shown his willingness to listen to me. I couldn’t make him do anything he didn’t want to do, but I could possibly convince him to at least calm down.
Things were knocked around and slammed about in Bastian’s rage, making the walls shake. He stormed down the hall toward us, his eyes blazing and his white wings still unfurled behind him, and I began to doubt my ability to talk him down from his fury. His fist was tight around the straps of a large leather satchel and he held it up as he gestured to Cadan.
“As you can see,” Bastian snarled, “what you’ve claimed to be impossible is in reality not. I asked you to do one thing and still you failed me. Your mistakes have cost us all dearly, but luckily I am here to correct your grave error.”
“What mistake?” I asked. “What has he done to make you so angry?”
He turned to me and his wings vanished. “This is demonic business. You are not one of us.”
“You asked me last night if you could trust me,” I shot back. “You can, but do you?”
“I cannot involve you in this!” he roared, his anger sending his power spiking. “Already you are in danger by being in our presence. Evantia knows about you. I didn’t tell you that she has confronted me about it already—”
“I can take care of myself!”
“You are not the only one who would be in danger,” he snarled. “Evantia has branded me a traitor. Everything is about to be ruined if she decides to speak out.”
I blinked at him, stunned. “That’s all that matters to you? What people think of you? I’m so sorry that being with me reflects negatively on you.”
He exhaled gruffly. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Not right now.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “What’s in the satchel? Did you kill a relic guardian to get that? Did you kill one of my people? Is that what Cadan was supposed to retrieve?”
“No.”
“Why not? He deserves to know.”
Bastian gazed absently down at his hands, avoiding eye contact with me. He was quiet.
“Don’t you trust him?” I asked. “If there is anyone you can trust, it would be your son.”
He looked at me then, his cerulean eyes questioning. “Can I trust you?”
I cupped his face with my hand and turned him to me. “You know you can. May I tell you a secret now?”
“Anything.”
“Aldebaran is my grandfather,” I said.
The ghost of a smile passed over his beautiful lips. “That explains a lot.”
“You may be afraid of what your angelic lineage means, but don’t be. It’s where the goodness in you comes from.”
He shook his head, pulling away from me. “I have no goodness in me.”
“You do,” I urged him. “If there was no goodness in you then you wouldn’t feel guilt for what you’ve done.”
“I don’t want to feel the guilt anymore,” he said softly.
I watched him carefully, unsure if he meant that he wanted to do the right thing, or that he wanted to do what he wanted without feeling remorse. I knew there was hope for him to abandon the demonic. He could if he wanted to, but it would be hard. There were conflicting natures within him, tempting him to yield to either his demonic or angelic side. But I believed in him. I believed he could do the right thing.
8
THE MOMENT I WOKE UP, I WAS SICK IN THE WASHbowl by the bed. After the fright Bastian gave me last night, I’d slept poorly and my entire body ached. It seemed as if the stress only grew worse, because now I was sick with it. I couldn’t stop thinking of the state I’d found him in. The smell of blood still made me ill. Simply thinking about it made me throw up again.
Bastian had already gone and I was alone in the room, but not in the house. I sensed the presence that I now recognized as Cadan. I wouldn’t mistake him for his father again. He was coming out of one of the studies when I descended the staircase. He looked up at me, concern furrowing his brow, watching how tightly I gripped the railing to keep my balance.
“Are you well?” he asked, and took my hand to help me down the remaining couple of steps.
I smiled gratefully at him. “I’m a little shaky this evening. Where is Bastian?”
“He’s just gone out,” Cadan replied. “He should return soon.”
“Why are you here and he is not?” I didn’t like the idea of Bastian instructing Cadan to stay here and guard me, and I hoped that was not the case.
He opened his mouth and shut it quickly. He licked his lips and tried again. “I made a mistake,” he said, his tone bitter. “Bastian is cleaning up my mess.”
Despite myself, I became afraid for him. Bastian had already proven himself to have a short temper when it came to Cadan. “What mess?”
He didn’t get the chance to answer. A terrible, wrathful power surged through the manor right before the front door blasted open. The pressure hit us both, knocking the wind from our chests and our bodies off balance. I gave Cadan a fearful look, but his own expression was stone hard.
“Let me talk to him,” I said. “Whatever happened, it’s not the end of the world. It can be fixed and I’ll help you.”
His face became tired and sorrowful. He didn’t believe me, but I would try regardless. Bastian had shown his willingness to listen to me. I couldn’t make him do anything he didn’t want to do, but I could possibly convince him to at least calm down.
Things were knocked around and slammed about in Bastian’s rage, making the walls shake. He stormed down the hall toward us, his eyes blazing and his white wings still unfurled behind him, and I began to doubt my ability to talk him down from his fury. His fist was tight around the straps of a large leather satchel and he held it up as he gestured to Cadan.
“As you can see,” Bastian snarled, “what you’ve claimed to be impossible is in reality not. I asked you to do one thing and still you failed me. Your mistakes have cost us all dearly, but luckily I am here to correct your grave error.”
“What mistake?” I asked. “What has he done to make you so angry?”
He turned to me and his wings vanished. “This is demonic business. You are not one of us.”
“You asked me last night if you could trust me,” I shot back. “You can, but do you?”
“I cannot involve you in this!” he roared, his anger sending his power spiking. “Already you are in danger by being in our presence. Evantia knows about you. I didn’t tell you that she has confronted me about it already—”
“I can take care of myself!”
“You are not the only one who would be in danger,” he snarled. “Evantia has branded me a traitor. Everything is about to be ruined if she decides to speak out.”
I blinked at him, stunned. “That’s all that matters to you? What people think of you? I’m so sorry that being with me reflects negatively on you.”
He exhaled gruffly. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Not right now.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “What’s in the satchel? Did you kill a relic guardian to get that? Did you kill one of my people? Is that what Cadan was supposed to retrieve?”
