Every Star in the Sky Page 15

  He smiles and looks up to the sky. “You’re so--”

  “Weird. I know.”

  He looks at me, face drawn into complete earnesty, though there’s a flicker of something I can’t recognize in his irises. “Beautiful.”

  His lips are an inch away from mine, and I close my eyes and memorize his smell, the feel of his warm, sweet breath against my face, the feel of his heartbeat in my ears and his hand in mine.

  His hand slips under my ear and hair, and I open my eyes, breath taken by the seriousness in his expression.

  “Hurry up,” I say quietly, smiling.

  He grins and presses his lips into mine, and I am immersed in this man. I feel his dark hair and brush it with my fingers. He kisses me slowly at first, but then faster, and faster, and we are two raging tornadoes colliding in the sky.

  He wraps his hands around my waist, laying me down on the grass, and his body is above mine, encompassing all of me, my every pore, my every breath, my every memory. He triumphs everything. He pauses for a moment, staring deep into my soul.

  “Jay,” he whispers, voice shaky, “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Leo.” I whisper back, and I feel tears in my eyes.

  He wipes them away with a gentle thumb. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to--”

  “I never thought I would say that. That’s all,” I say, and I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his lips back where they belong. His lips are warm, supple waves crashing against me, and I can feel the music in every inch of his body.

  He rests a hand on my breast, caressing it softly, and I pull his pelvis close. I just want to be a part of him.

  I want to make love to him.

  His kisses trail up the nape of my neck, and I am lost in the ecstasy that he has created; an ethereal paradise where he and I are the only two things to exist. No other people, no palace, no water, no air. Just our lips and bodies and beating hearts.

  He gently releases my braid and tangles his hands in my hair, though not once does he stop kissing me, filling me with a scarlet fire in the pit of my soul.

  I tug at the hem of his shirt. He pauses, breathing hard above me, as he slowly unbuttons his clothing away. I gasp with need when I see him, his strong chest and chiseled torso. Is this man really mine?

  He takes my hand and brings it up to his chest, his heartbeat. It’s clanging against his chest like it’s desperately trying to escape, and I shudder from the feeling of his warm skin and butterfly kisses on my fingertips.

  And then I see it is my scarred hand. I cover my mouth with my other hand as I tremble and look away.

  “Jay, what’s wrong?” Leo asks, backing away.

  “I’m so… broken,” I whisper.

  Wordlessly, he straddles over me again, and he takes either side of my head into his strong hands, tilting my chin so that I am forced to look through my tears into his eyes.

  “You are the most goddamned perfect thing I’ve ever seen. Don’t say that ever again.”

  I kiss him with all of the madness and anguish and desire my heart bares, and he lays back, and I have control of him. I feel his chest, tracing the lines of his sculpted body, but it is nothing compared to the look of adoration and desire in his eyes. That’s what I love. Him. For everything that he is, was, and will be.

  “If I knew that you existed,” he whispers between kisses, “I wouldn’t have wasted my time with anyone else.”

  I throw the nightgown over my head, exposing my body, kept secret only by a set of undergarments. He runs a hand along my stomach and I shake under his touch. Everything about him makes my body react against my will. He has control. He could break me in his hands if he wanted, right now, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him.

  “Goddamn,” he whispers, wrapping a leg around one of mine, holding my cheeks like I am the most valuable vase in the world, and our lips touch, and I feel his tongue, and he feels mine, and we struggle with our own desire and the concept of what is okay and what is not.

  I don’t care anymore.

  I can’t stand it.

  I move his hand to my bra strap.

  All I can see is the desperate fire in his eyes, his mouth hung slightly agape, as he realizes what I want him to do.

  That’s when the storm comes. A swirling smoky abyss in the sky, thrusting lightning away from its great body.

  He gently pushes me off and tugs my nightgown back over my head, grabbing my body into his grasp as he sprints toward the castle.

  I feel a deep, sinking agony and terror fill my body. Crow people dart in towards us from every angle, and I’ve forgotten how to breathe.

  That’s when I see them. Elliot, Silas, Benny, Ren, Brom, and Nick, all armed and ready, slaying the crows away from Leo and I.

  Elliot looks at me with a fiery rage. “Get her out of here, Leon.”

  But then I see my sisters. He lets go of me and Regan tossed my dagger up into the air. I jump and catch it at the hilt, swinging at the perfect moment to behead a crow.

  The boys are sloppier, mostly cutting off limbs and then leaving us to clean up what’s left.

  I hear the wings just in time, thrusting my dagger into the sky and knocking a skull loose. Armless and legless crows crawl in on us from all sides. Regan’s sheer strength is enough to make them explode into a flurry of obsidian bone as she punches them with her spiked fist.

  Charlotte uses a katana, the deadly curve of the blade easily cleaning up the remnants of crows that Kira has loosed an arrow on.

  The more we kill, the less of an army Calico can have. They need to die. All of them.

  I feel a sudden bloodthirst course through my bones. I see a spare longsword leaning against the wall, and I sprint forward, grabbing the hilt, and I am a monster.

  I easily drive the sword through rows of crow people, decimating their structure into nothingness. I run through the boneyard in my bare feet and pink nightgown, stabbing and swinging and thrusting and killing.

  The exhilaration fills me with need. It feels so good. The high of destroying evil.

  The eleven of us are capable, but there’s so many, and they’re so fast. I scream out to Charlotte as a crow lurches at her from behind. She manages to swing just in time to catch her blade in its shoulder.

  I hear screaming and know that someone has been wounded, but I can’t see through the flurry of oily black wings.

  Please be safe, Leo. You can’t leave me yet. Please be safe, my Nightingale family.

  I see Kira assaulted by five crows at once, but I’m too far away to help her. “KIRA!” I scream desperately, unable to move, frozen in place by my own helplessness.

  I feel a huge weight against my side and I fall to the ground. I hear the slash of a blade against bone, and the screeching of crow death.

  “Pay attention, dammit! Stay focused. You don’t have the time to worry about anybody but yourself.” I see Ren’s black ponytail and the outline of his face in the darkness as he yells over his shoulder.

  I give him a single nod, and I rush to his aid, swatting back crow people like they’re flies instead of deadly winged skeletons.

  “Some outfit,” Ren comments as I swing at a crow. “How’d you even learn to fight like this?”

  “Don’t look at me,” I say, embarrassed. “My dad taught me. He said I might need to know how to use a sword some day.”

  That’s when I see a blast of fire shoot past my shoulder. “What the hell was that?”

  I glance back for a moment and see Kira’s hands alive with flame as she blasts the birds away.

  “Oh my god,” I breathe as I shatter a cranium.

  “You didn’t know she can use magic?” Ren says, surprised.

  “I don’t know anything,” I say back. I hear his sharp laugh.

  “Don’t need to. You’re all capable fighters for a reason. You are the daughters of a goddess, after all.”

  I shake my head. I still find it hard to believe that any of this is real. This could all be a dream. It sure felt l
ike one. Like at any moment, I could blink and be awake back in my cottage in the forest, with my mom and dad, eating mashed potatoes with Evan Olson as we fill out math sheets.

  I dive out of the way as a crow rushes toward me, and it trips. I take the hilt of my sword and bash its skull until I’m certain that he’s dead.

  I am breathing heavily, experiencing a fever and an icy cold at the same time. My skin shines a bright pink in the darkness, coated in sweat.

  Suddenly, the swirling abyss overhead closes, and there is nothing left to kill. The sun is peeking over the horizon, and the sky is a fluffy blush pink, streaks of blue and purple cloud intermingling with the pink foundation.

  A manic hissing sound fills my ears, and I see the shattered bone fragments and carcasses all around my feet sparkling red as they disintegrate into nothing.

  I let myself collapse into the soft green earth, trying to catch my breath again as I pray for the safety of my team. Sleep tries to consume me, but I fight it back. I have to stay awake. We have to go back inside. I need… I need Grace. I need Leo. I need Charlotte’s bear hugs and Kira’s bitchy humor and Regan’s sassy comebacks. I need Brom to talk about dogs, I need Nick to talk about poker.

  And I need pants. Soft, fluffy pants.

  I strain my vision against the sunlight until I can see. Benny is running towards Charlotte, the lanky, awkward shape of a familiar boy in his arms.

  Nick.

  I jump to my feet and rush after him as he lays Nick in front of Charlotte. His shoulder has been pierced by a claw, and blood is rapidly leaking out of the wound.

  “Can you fix this?” Benny asks, panting heavily, desperate.

  Nick is unconscious, head lolled to the side. His breathing is shallow, like an inch of water running over a sea of stone.

  I collapse on my knees, taking his hand. “Nick? Wake up, Nick,” I whisper.

  Charlotte pulls some grass from the ground, shaking the roots free of soil and pressing the blades onto the wound. The bleeding slows, at the very least.

  “He’ll survive if we get him bandaged and the bleeding stopped right away.” Charlotte looks at me. “Rosie, I hid my med kit behind that rock over there. Could you get it, please, sweetie?”

  I nod, rushing towards the rock she’d pointed out and pulling a silk bag from the space between the stone’s back and the castle wall.

  I rush it back to her, and take Nick’s hand again. “Hang in there, Nick,” I say, “When you wake up, we can play Scrabble, and I’ll make you the best chicken noodle soup you’ve ever had.”

  He stirs a bit as Charlotte works on the wound.

  “He okay?” I look up to see Silas, his usually beautiful face now bearing claw marks and congealed blood.

  Charlotte merely nods.

  Silas kneels next to me. “He fought so hard. I’ve never seen anything like it. A kid that little swinging a sword and running the way he did. Like Julian.”

  Silas is clearly only half-conscious, exhaustion heavy on his eyelids.

  I wish I could’ve met Julian. The real one-- before the plague. His loss seemed to haunt his brothers so deeply, even after many years since his real death.

  “Elliot’s mad again,” Silas says sadly, looking to the east. I follow his gaze and watch Elliot and Leo arguing about something, while Brom leans silently against the castle wall, eyes closed, hands folded in prayer.

  “Why does Elliot always have to be such an asshole to him?”

  Regan has joined us at Nick’s side, and Kira follows closely after. They both look bruised and scratched, but otherwise, they look perfectly fine and healthy.

  “What do you mean?” I can’t help but ask.

  “He’s always been rude to everyone, but especially Leo,” Kira says. “I don’t know why he feels the constant urge to bring him down to his level. It’s pathetic.”

  “I know why,” Regan mumbles. “It’s because he’s a fucking asshole.”

  I get to my feet and, despite feeling the burning stares against my back, I walk to Leo and Elliot.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  Elliot glares at me.

  “Please, stay out of this,” Leo says quietly, eyes pleading with me.

  I shake my head, “What’s wrong?”

  Elliot laughs darkly. “You. You’re what’s wrong, ‘Rose.’”

  I shudder as he uses my prophetic name and I instinctively take a step back. “What are you talking about?”

  “Jay, leave,” Leo begs.

  “No, stay.” Elliot grabs my wrist. “You knew Evan Olson. You have intermingled with the enemy your entire life. How are we supposed to know that you’re really the Rose we’ve been looking for? You could very well be one of Exodus’s spies, and you’re trying to tempt Leon into some stupid romance so that you’ll be able to distract him and kill him. And then we’ll be done.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I breathe back, stunned. After all the fighting I’ve just done, how dare he accuse me of treason? But I’m too awestruck and terrified to voice my opinions.

  Elliot scowls, “Reports say that the village closest to the Nightingale hideout witnessed a girl with black hair pour a circle of gasoline around the headquarters, and throw a lit match as she ran away. A girl who suspiciously seems to look a lot like you. A hiker took a sketch of what he remembered,” he says, shoving a picture into my hands.

  It’s me. Every line, every angle, every piece of this drawing is me.

  I start to shake. “I didn’t… I d-d-didn’t do anything! I was c-caught in the f-fire… My s-sister died!” I suddenly feel anger, and I clench my fists. “How dare you! I just fought for hours trying to protect my family, and you dare question my loyalty?”

  He shakes his head, “You lying bitch.”

  I feel a massive hand snap against my cheek, and I am on the ground, holding little remnants of my dignity in my hands. I feel blood.

  “YOU BASTARD!” Leo yells, throwing a punch toward Elliot. He catches it mid-flight like a sparrow in his massive fist. Leo wiggles out of his grip, shocked. “What the hell is wrong with you, Elliot!” He is seething with rage, knuckles white.

  Elliot glares at me. “Leave immediately or I will kill you here and now.” He unsheathes his massive sword, its deadly edges glinting in the malicious sun.

  “I’ll go with her, Elliot. You can’t stop this. You can’t stop any of us.”

  Elliot turns his blade on Leo, pointing it just under his skin. In one small shift of Elliot’s arm, Leo would be dead.

  “Leave or I kill him.”

  I don’t feel anything. My head is a stormcloud of emotion I can’t understand as I take a step back.

  “Jay, no!” Leo yells.

  Tears bite at my eyes as I continue backwards, step by step, and then I have turned around and I am running. Running as fast as I can, running away, imagining that with each step the sword is further and further away from Leo’s throat.

  “And never come back!” Elliot’s voice echoes around me.

  I don’t know exactly where I’m going, but I do know the name.

  Rowena.

  The aviary.

  If Reya grants me the power she’s supposed to grant me, like Evan says, then maybe… Maybe Elliot would see that I am Reya’s daughter. And if he didn’t believe me… Maybe this power will be enough for me to kill Elliot.

  But what if I’m not actually Reya’s daughter, like Elliot says? And who burned the headquarters? It couldn’t have been me, even if it was in my sleep. I woke up and there was fire. A fire that I did not start.

  Maybe if I find out who actually did it… This girl who looks exactly like me… Maybe I can find some answers.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I keep moving until my legs give up on me. I don’t know how far I’ve come or how long I’ve been going. All I know is that the palace and everyone I love is far behind me, and I am utterly alone. The sun is still moving upwards in the sky, but it’s hot and heavy on my back.

  I look around
. I am in a helplessly open field, wide and indiscreet for as far as the eye can see. I hear the trickling of a river, and follow it until I find myself kneeling at blue water, splashing it against my face. I pour it into my mouth with cupped hands.

  I have to find some sort of civilization, but my feet refuse to let me move any more. In fact, they sting and ache, as though they’ve been slashed apart.

  I hold one foot up to look at it, and sure enough, it’s cluttered with congealed blood and pieces of crow bone stuck in my flesh. I close my eyes tight and look away as I pick out the pieces, thrusting my feet into the cold, clear water once they’ve been cleared of debris. I don’t know how else to treat them.

  Charlotte would know.

  I wrap my arms around my knees and curl into a strange sort of ball while allowing the river to heal the bottoms of my feet.

  Maybe this is what I deserve. I almost made love to a boy I’ve known for only a few days. Or has it been a few weeks? I don’t know. I have no sense of time anymore. Sometimes the sun is out, and sometimes the moon is out. Sometimes I’m awake, and sometimes I’m asleep.

  I follow the river through several cycles of the sky. It’s at least been a few days when I finally see the silhouettes of houses in the early morning light. It doesn’t look too far away.

  My stomach growls to remind me of my urgency, but the pain is difficult to bear. I clench my furious stomach and force my bloody feet to move me closer to the city. It takes longer than I’d like it too, but soon the lush grass fades into worn paths in the ground.

  The village is charming, with red-roofed houses and flowers hanging from every planter. It smells like honey and sand and springtime. I have to stand and breathe in the fragrant air for a while, letting it soothe my soul. For the first time in days, I feel a moment of peace, and I treasure it. I let the air flow through me, I let the scent of flowers and honey fill my lungs, and I let myself smile. I don’t know why I didn’t notice it before, but I can hear the gentle bustling sounds of a market down the road, and I feel intense relief when I register the fact that markets mean people, and people mean directions to Rowena.