Arcana Rising
Page 55

A chunk of ice the size of a soccer ball landed feet from me, and other smaller ones pattered all around. Postapocalyptic hail? Aric wore no helmet! “Let’s go, wolf!”
The path veered around an outcropping of rock; I rushed along it to another clearing, then stutter-stepped. A raised plateau stretched before me. Atop it was a gigantic dish, dozens of feet tall.
Was it a telescope? Or some kind of antenna? The Flash had scorched the expanse of metal black in places.
I raised my hand to shield my eyes against the rain. Spotted Aric. He was climbing in the base of the structure, amid the framework. That explained his lack of armor. He wasn’t even wearing a shirt as he effortlessly moved from beam to beam.
Why was he here? Uncaring of the hail and lightning, I found a path leading up. As soon as I reached the plateau, he caught sight of me.
He leapt down from what must have been twenty feet, then stalked toward me. His muscles flexed with tension, and the tattooed runes on his torso seemed to come alive.
He’d told me those slashing marks were our story, to remind him never to trust me. I’d told him history didn’t have to repeat itself.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” He seemed to grow larger with every step closer, his body thrumming with aggression. In the night, his eyes glittered with fury.
I refused to back down, meeting him halfway. “I came to find you!”
“Some emergency couldn’t keep?”
No. Maybe. Yes! “What is this place?”
“It was a sanctuary. Since mine has been spoiled.” He scowled at the wolf, and Cyclops trotted off, tail between his legs.
“Spoiled?” I cried. Was he so fed up with me that he wanted me to move out?
Ignoring me, he turned away, heading back under the dish.
I struggled to keep up with his long-legged strides as he went deeper into the framework. “Do you want me to leave the castle?” I had to yell as the worsening storm pounded the metal above us.
He twisted around, stabbing his fingers through his soaked hair. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what?” I felt as if I were needling a bear. The storm only ramped up the tension between us.
“I can’t sit there and listen to that woman poison your mind! And if I say or do anything, I’ll only be proving her mad accusations.”
“You assume I’m letting her poison me?”
“If she doesn’t, your chronicles will.”
“I’ve read them. I’ve remembered so much more about you. And here I am.”
“Why did you come?” His damp chest grew still. He was holding his breath!
My gaze darted. How to say this? “You . . . you’re not safe out here with no one to watch your back!”
His fists clenched, the muscles in his arms bulging. “Get back on your goddamned horse and leave—me—in—peace.”
What sounded like an explosion boomed above us. I jumped and glanced to one side as more gigantic hail plummeted from the sky. Facing him again, I promised, “I’m not going anywhere without you, Aric.”
Confusion. “Why?”
“Because I love you.”
His hand shot out. His fingers made a loose cage around my throat. “Never say that to me again!”
I swallowed, knew he could feel the movement against his grip. I whispered, “I love you.”
With his other hand, he punched the metal, sending vibrations through the structure. “I told you something died in me the day you chose him! Let it lie.”
I shook my head. “I can bring it back to life.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why would you?”
“Centuries ago, you told me that you were born for me, and I for you. You told me you’d convince me of that one day. You have.” Through his caring. And his patience and generosity. His selfless protection.
“Damn you, Empress!” He was wavering. He moved his hand from my throat to my nape. So steady in battle, his hand now shook.
My missions had changed once more: destroy Richter, and make Aric happy. Time was running out for both. Which meant I would force my mind from the past. From the other half of my heart. “We don’t have time for this.”
“For what?”
“For not being together.”
He dropped his hand, seeming to steel himself against me. “And still your interest arises only because of our circumstances.”
I’d told him my feelings; I’d put myself out there. I’d never expected this much hostility. “I came here—despite all the things going on in my head—to offer you my future. And you’re refusing to meet me even a tenth of the way? That’s the reality of our ‘circumstances.’”
He was seething with something that looked a lot like . . . hate. “If Deveaux were here, you would choose him.”
“Still punishing me for my choice?” But then his eyes gave away a flicker of another emotion. Insight from my dreams and our past hit me, and for once, clarity sparked in my messed-up head. “That’s not the main issue, is it? You could get past that. No, you’re pushing me away . . . out of fear.”
No denial.
“At this moment, you’re afraid something will tear us apart yet again. You’d rather have the ongoing dream of a future than risk having your hope crushed once more.”
In a rare glimpse of vulnerability, he said, “Each time, right before you struck, I . . . believed. In the last game, the end of hope nearly destroyed me. Those first moments after your death, when I comprehended I would spend a dozen more lifetimes alone . . .” His expression grew stark. “I could not survive it again.”