Chapter Thirteen
Maeve crying did odd things to Stephano’s ability to think.
“Stephano, please, please tell me you’re better.”
He wanted to reassure her, but all he could come up with was, “Did you really let Ajax get you alone? Do you really want to…?” He couldn’t believe he wanted to ask it, but couldn’t hold it in. “To kiss him?”
She stared up at him with wide eyes, tears still spilling over her dark lashes, and covered her mouth with her hand, then abruptly doubled over.
What the—? Startled he dropped to a knee in front of her. Her face was bright red and she was trying to draw in air. Hyperventilating or something worse? “Can you catch your breath?”
A hard, frantic shake of her head and a tighter grip on his arm was his answer.
He scrambled back over the ground to where he’d dropped his shirt, scanned the damn mirror on his way by and managed to crawl back over without her dropping her grip. He forced the cloth over her mouth, turning her so he could wrap his arms around her and hold her on his lap, all within seconds. His heart was hammering as fast as hers. “Hush, calm down, breathe in slowly, through the shirt. That’s it, easy.”
He gently kept the material over her nose and mouth so it limited her intake while his heart raced as if he’d run miles. After what felt like hours, her muscles slowly relaxed, but she still drew in short, rapid breathes. Her nails dug into his arm pretty sharply too, so he guessed that meant she was going to be okay. I almost hurt her. That witch almost had me hurting her. He shook off the anger. Maeve needed him now.
“Breathe out, more, more, there, now easy, in, and out. Calm down, you’re going to be okay. I’m here.” But he’d not been here… The wooly feeling, the odd sensation of being angry and wanting to hurt her made him uneasy. He’d never wanted to hurt someone—especially a woman—the way he’d wanted to harm Maeve. Even now, he got a chill at how close he’d come. “You stopped me, Mae. That wasn’t me,” he assured her, worrying that she still feared him. “It wasn’t me,” he repeated softly, but even as he said it, his unease grew. I was angry. What if I…hurt her?
Mae shook her head, easing his painful thoughts. “It was her…she did…it.”
“She’s gone now.” He frowned, troubled still at the witch’s power. I would never hurt Maeve like that…never hurt any woman like that!
“Are…are you…sure?” Mae clutched his arm tighter.
He brushed his lips against her silky hair finding that the gesture eased him, so he did it again. Selfishly, he wanted to keep her right where she was, in his arms, but he knew that soon, night would blanket this town in darkness. I need to get her somewhere safe.
“Can you breathe easier now?”
She nodded against where she leaned her head on his chest. It was an odd thing to want her to do again, but he found himself unable to keep from tightening his arms around her.
“We have to move soon, Maeve. Here, let me help you up.”
She turned and hugged him hard around his waist. It was adorable, especially since she was still trembling. He held her a tiny bit harder, too, not the titan-grip she had on him, but enough to soothe her. She was so small, so fragile. He couldn’t recall a woman giving him such a hug. Maeve clung to him as if she were frightened he’d leave. He couldn’t remember anyone ever feeling so strongly about him that they hyperventilated, either. The thought made him grin and he brushed another kiss to her hair.
“We made it, see?” He squeezed her a bit harder for a second. “I made it. I found you. I’m here. Solid, here.” That didn’t seem to help. What happened in the hours since I last saw her? Her arm… He stroked down one small arm. It was smooth and warm. But the other was not. He could feel the stiff stone from her elbow down. He didn’t comment on it because she was breathing easier. Let her calm down, then find out what happened. “We’re fine now. We need a place to rest.”
She sighed, making him shiver as her hot breath tickled his neck. But when she nodded against his shoulder, that warm feeling spread. He relaxed and enjoyed the feel of her heart racing against his chest.
“Better?”
“Yes. How did you know…how to help me? To do that?” She shifted and reluctantly he let her go. He pulled on his shirt before he answered. Being half-dressed around Maeve messed with his head.
“I’m ancient, remember?”
She reached out and hit his shoulder but tilted her head to look at him. She was smiling. It made his heart skitter as if he’d walked too fast up a steep hill. She can talk. Now I can find out why she pretended she couldn’t. Even as he thought it, he realized it didn’t matter. He had her, sure only for a brief while, but until they found her brother and his companions he had her to himself. Bed them and leave them, that’s your style, Stephano of Sparta. He frowned at the witch’s words. Maybe with other women. But Maeve was different.
“Stephano?”
He blinked and registered her concerned expression. “I’ve seen people hyperventilate before. If it’d been an asthma attack I might have killed you.”
Her brow wrinkled adorably. “And you fooled her.”
“I think I fooled you, too.”
She seemed serious. And she still seemed unsure of him. He pulled his armor on, trying to figure out if she was afraid of him or not. Once dressed, he sat down and pulled her onto his knee. She perched there, stiff and a little fearfully, but didn’t shove him away.
“She didn’t hold a candle to you.”
Immediately, she tensed and covered his mouth with a hand, staring around the temple as if the mirror might suddenly spring back to life. “Don’t say such things. You’ll anger her.”
He kissed her palm and removed her hand. She opened her mouth to scold him some more no doubt. “She’s gone.” He used his firmest voice. Mae seemed to hear him because she closed her pretty lips. “Whatever she was, she’s not going to harm anyone else.”
“The mirror is still there. Didn’t you see it”—she waved her hand—“flow back together?”
He ignored that. If the woman was still able to hurt them, she would. “She’s gone—for now.”
Maeve covered his mouth again. Obviously, she didn’t believe that. “We can’t be sure.” She frowned fiercely when he went to say something. It was adorable. “I mean…” Her brow bunched up, as if she tried to follow something only she understood. He held his tongue, not about to act like her brother. “If she did this”—she gestured to the statues then her arm—“why didn’t breaking the mirror help them?”
He considered it. He no longer heard cruel laughter or seductively spoken words meant to draw him closer, but Maeve’s arm was still encased in stone. If the statues were because of the mirror, which he thought likely, then what would break them free? And Maeve’s arm…
“I have no idea, but I do know that we aren’t staying in this city overnight.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed, sounding tired. “All right, give me a minute more.”
It was so cute he couldn’t help another grin. Maybe she was still afraid of him, but too tired to move away. “You can have five minutes. I’m damn glad you’re alive, not so happy you got your arm turned to stone, or that you were lying all this time about being able to speak, but first things first, a small rest, then—”
“My brother. Where is my brother, Stephano?”
He liked the way she said his name. Not so much her question, but there wasn’t a way around his response.
“We think they were captured.” He didn’t candy coat it, he couldn’t. But he pulled her closer and hugged her like she’d hugged him. Maybe not so hard. “Garret went to check. They may have escaped.”
Her knuckles whitened from her tight hold on his armor, and he noticed scratches and cuts along her hand now, but she didn’t hyperventilate. He had to get her somewhere and clean her wounds, see if she had any more, and get her something to eat. Rest.
“Don’t hyperventilate again. My shirt couldn’t have smelled that good.”
She was crying. He could tell by the way her shoulders shuddered with each breath but at his teasing words, she huffed a laugh.
“We’ll meet up with Garret and he might already have found them.” He didn’t mention the timeline. How the hell can I get her arm normal and reach the wolf in two days? “How did you end up here?” he asked, hoping to distract her from her brother. The empty street was bathed in the colors of sunset, creating a peaceful appearance that belied the evil hidden here. Even still, he thought he felt something wrong, off in that way he’d learned to associate with danger.
“I…I mean, at first, I thought I was simply walking. Then I realized it was more.” She sniffed loudly then wiped her face with the back of her hand.
Could she be more adorable?
“This place, it called me,” she went on. “She called me. I tried to leave…” She pulled away to meet his eyes, or perhaps to see if he was listening because her gaze flickered over his face. “It was like I was telling myself to leave.” Another sniff and he considered handing him his shirt again, but it had to smell… “But I couldn’t. I had to step closer. Then she began talking…” She sniffed and wiped once more at her cheeks, then gave him a feeble smile. “When I tried to leave, my arm began to grow cold…a little numb and really, really heavy.” She lifted her arm as if to illustrate. “Then you knocked into me!” Her eyes glowed when she smiled like that.
He closed his eyes briefly. If I’d been a little longer. A minute, or two later…
“It was like you broke something, a call, or not a call, but a line she was creating… Oh, I don’t know.” She stared at the mirror. “But the stone stopped.” She worried her encased arm with her fingers, her brow still furrowed in thought. “Should we…burn it? Or do something more? For them? The statues? What if they’re trapped? Shouldn’t we do all we can to aid them?”
He tipped her face with a finger under her chin and rubbed the pad of his thumb along her jaw. The skin there was so soft, it made him yearn to touch the rest of her. “We can, if you want, but I say we get out of here.”
She ducked her head. He got the distinct impression his response wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She must know they had to leave. What does she think? I can save these people?
“I like your voice.” He tipped her chin so he could meet her eyes. “Why do you hide such a pretty sound—?”
“Stephano.” A flash of disappointment surfaced in her eyes. He buckled on his sword belt, then scooped up the satchel Garret had loaned him and fitted it on crossways over his chest. He lifted his gaze to find her watching him. As soon as their eyes met, she walked out.
He followed. Does she think I can save these statues from a witch’s curse? The thought made him pause. I’ll have to do something about her arm… He eyed her stiff shoulders and profile. I already risked my neck getting down here, we’re on a schedule, her brother still has to be found, and she wants me to act the hero?
She stopped across from the temple. “I think”—she glanced at him, frowning hard—“I think we have to go back in there.”
“What? We just left!” He gestured back at the temple to illustrate. “You wanted to leave—”
“I know, but the mirror…it can’t be left like this. I feel it… I mean, something has to be done. Maybe I should go back in alone.”
He laughed and hooked his thumbs in his belt. “I am the warrior. Why wouldn’t you want me in there, too?” His humor earned him a scathing, narrow-eyed glare. He tried his best not to grin. He’d seen the same look on Tabithia, but from a witch that gaze made him straighten up. From a woman that had no power, and barely reached his chin? He battled humor. “What good is having a big, strong warrior around if you don’t use him?” He would love for her to use him until he couldn’t move a muscle…
“Well, for one,” she snapped, “you were all la, la, la in there.” She rolled her eyes and wiggled her free hand, mocking him and the strange effect of the woman in the mirror.
All right, he could accept she was making fun of him, and that she was alive, and better, talking, but he wasn’t about to let her go in and face danger alone.
“I think you were perhaps even drooling.”
He automatically reached up and wiped his mouth with his wrist. She gave him a smug smile and he froze, sizing her up for whether she could handle another hot kiss. She was smart enough to read him because she backed away swiftly.
“So, I should go in, alone, while you…wait out…here?” she ended on a soft, questioning note.
He crossed his arms. She does know me pretty well. The thought made him want to grin, but he knew that wouldn’t be the right thing to do.
“Maybe we can both go in there, then,” she suggested. He shook his head, but gave her credit for trying. Still wearing her cute frown, she muttered, “What would we do in there, anyway? Break it? If it was that simple someone would have already done it.”
He realized something about her. She was talking now, but more to herself than to him, or maybe she was talking to him, but shyly feeling out her thoughts, as if his opinion mattered. If so, he didn’t want to squash her ideas. But he wasn’t certain breaking the mirror would work to reverse her arm.
“Look around, angel, do you see all these statues? I’m guessing they’ve also fallen under that witch’s spell.”
She was nodding, nibbling her lip as she did, eyes focused on him as if he had the answers she sought. It made him feel…odd. Strong in a way he’d never felt before.
“I think so too, but there are so many…all over the town, Stephano.”
“True. So we have to think that whatever powers the witch has, they’re pretty far-reaching. We’ve only stopped her for now, I’m betting. And, I’m guessing,” he stressed the word, but she watched him so sweetly, he had to gather his thoughts all over again. “The two men holding it? You saw them?” She nodded eagerly listening to him. “They looked more like they were trying to toss it down than keep it upright, which means that she’s not so easily destroyed, as we saw, eh?”
“I didn’t see that… What else did you see?”
For some reason his chest swelled with pride. He pulled his ear, thinking about the layout. Her attention was doing peculiar things to his ability to think. “I think many people have tried to stop the mirror, some coming in from the back—”
“The Vampires!”
He smiled at her excited cry. “They were crouched down, as if ready to leap. There were also a few statues coming from behind it, but none made it through, Maeve. So… It doesn’t have to see you or have you see it for it to turn you to stone. But I’m guessing it’s gotta be near you.”
“Why?”
“If it could harm you now, it would.” He rubbed his hand down her arm to clasp her warm fingers.
“But maybe you weakened it. Maybe it’s—”
“Maybe, true. But I broke it. It didn’t do a thing. I could go in there and chop it up with my sword if you’d like, but I’m guessing it will simply repair itself, or worse, turn me to stone.” Her eyes widened at that. “So we regroup, wait and decide what to do.”
She hunched over her arm, holding it as if it was broken. He couldn’t let her walk around with it dangling. She needed to feel secure. What if it can break? If she banged it hard, will it fall off? The thought made him physically ill.
“Here, let me see that arm. Here—”
“Not here. If we’re going to wait…” She shivered. “I want away from that place.”
He understood. “Okay, let’s walk. It will be dark soon. Careful. The moss here is slippery. Hence the headlong slide into that place.”
She giggled and her smile made his blood sing. “You do rush into places, don’t you? Are you, I mean, are you…better?” Her gaze skipped downward then back up with a blush to her cheeks.
He refused to acknowledge that she’d landed a blow—twice—to an area he had high hopes she’d learn to treat at least with a bit more care. He pulled his shirt free and ripped a long strip from it. She tried to protest, but he shook his head and she quieted.
“I’m feeling grateful that I found you. That you’re alive and that we’re all in one piece.” He brushed his fingers over her stone arm as he secured it with his shirt. As carefully as he could, he knotted it along her shoulder then ran his fingers through her silky hair once to get it out of the way, but also to enjoy the feel. It was thick and heavy, smoother than any satin. “You survived that fall, eh?”
“Barely,” she admitted. “If not for the rooftop being covered in moss, I’m sure I wouldn’t have.”
“It’s what you survive, not how, that matters.” He stepped back and examined his handiwork.
She straightened her shoulders a little more confidently. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Suddenly shy again, she stepped farther away from him, fiddling with her stone fingers. He wanted to tell her it would be okay, that he’d get her hand fixed, but he wasn’t certain how to accomplish that, yet. Not knowing what else to do, he steered her forward, away from the temple, guiding her over the rough spots too difficult to see clearly, and on up where he could make out a white tower standing high above the other buildings.
“How will we find Garret and the others? I mean, do you have a plan?” She worried her hair, twisting and twisting the ends with her free hand. “I… My brother always told me to go to the place we have by the last outpost.”
He should have known Brennan would have a backup plan for his sister. The man was protective of her, even if he didn’t listen to her. He’s got to be captured. There’s nothing else that could keep him from his sister. Which means we have another rescue mission. He lifted Maeve around a large hole in the road, then vaulted over it himself.
“Oh, be careful!”
The worry in her voice made him clear his throat. “So, you have a plan for if you get separated?”
“Oh yes, Brennan always had somewhere for me to go if…terrible things happen.”
“Like slavers chasing you?”
Her blush colored her glowing cheeks a light pink. “Yes,” she admitted, sounding unhappy.
“You know, the more you tell me, the more I can figure out what to do. I have no idea what’s going on in that head of yours.” He helped her over a broken pillar and hauled himself up and over after. She was waiting for him, and he thought she blushed again, but the evening was quickly blanketing them in darkness.
“I will…but do you have a plan?”
“I do. Two days we need to meet up with Garret. If we aren’t there”—she made a distressed sound—“he will wait.” He hoped. “He’ll leave us a sign. Either way, I’ll find him.”
“I know, I know you will, I worry. Two days? So soon. Where?”
“At the end of this ravine, but don’t worry about that now. You need to rest. And I need to see about that scratch on your face. We can never be too careful with cuts on a trail.”
After a few seconds of quiet walking, she asked, “Why?”
“Infection, it’s easy for even a small cut to make you sick out here.”
She listened closely. He liked that about her. Her curiosity and her quiet ways. “You know a lot about medicine.”
He laughed, caught by surprise by such a comment. “Woman, I don’t know anything about medicine! What gave you that idea?” Through a break in the buildings, he spotted the tall tower he’d been aiming for. The door was still securely shut but when they reached it, he got it open easily enough. Once his eyes adjusted to the darker interior he saw no sign of animals or damage. The entire city appeared to be sleeping, waiting for something to bring it back to life. A circular stair hugged the inside wall, winding around and around as it led upward. Along the way he thought doors opened, but he couldn’t be certain. The top. She’ll be safe at the top most point.
“Well, you knew what to do when I couldn’t breathe. Brennan never knows. You know about cuts and scratches.”
He knocked a cobweb aside. If he secured the door down here, no one could make it up these stairs without him knowing. He listened closely but like the rest of this town, the tower was as silent as a tomb. But it smelled ancient. No dampness, though, and no sign of mildew or mold. Both were oddly missing.
He found Maeve waiting for him. Her question still lingered between them, and made him smile. He knew nothing of medicine, not really. “I know how to treat a few things from centuries of war, nothing more.”
She patted his arm. “Poor Stephano. You’ve always battled, haven’t you? You must be tired of it, after all this time.”
She had no idea. He was exhausted, disgusted and worse, didn’t see an end in sight. He caught her watching him oddly. With a rush, he saw something more in her expressive face—concern. The knowledge gave him a peculiar sensation, as if he were falling down that cliff he’d navigated hours before, only this time there were no rocks to hold on to.