“Because you’re a symbol.” A gold dragon shimmering in the sun. A symbol of power and fear.
“And you make me more human.”
Lexi gripped him, her hands fierce.
“I don’t want to weaken you.”
“Being more human isn’t weakness, cara.”
“What is it?”
“What it’s always been,” he said, covering her hands with his own. “What they fear most.” A conscience. An ability to act with moral purpose, to kill in defense of what is right. What the Calata could never control.
“You’ll be out there?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Where will I be?”
“Here. Inside.”
He pulled her hands from his arms, held tight to her fingers. The villa had been built for invasions, he told her, with heavy wooden shutters that locked from the inside. The walls were thick and well-protected. From a central position, she would see both entrance doors and know if they were breached.
“That will not happen,” he stressed as another tremor rocked through her. “You walked the perimeter with Arsen today.”
“The long walls of Piraeus.”
“The strategy worked in Greece and it will work here.”
“But this is the part where you leave.”
“No.” Christan’s body vibrated with the need to change and she touched his face.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said. “I promise you.”
Christan voice was rough. “If I ever leave and not come back, it will be because I am dead. Even then, I would crawl on my knees to find you.”
“I believe you.” She kissed him. He traced his thumb against her right wrist, along the memory lines, amazed at the way she could put him on his knees and then lift him up again.
“I’ll be outside,” he said. “The plan is for you to stay inside. With the confusion, they may not detect your energy pattern. But if you leave, if you are out in the open, they will track you. And they will find you, because you’re the one person in this world who could destroy me.”
Her shoulders trembled. “Because of the one word?”
“No, cara. Because I would do anything to protect you.”
“I don’t want them to get to me,” Lexi said with conviction. “I don’t want them to use me against you.”
“I will not let that happen.”
“Will you kill Kace?”
“Yes.”
“But…” She moistened her lips, felt the truth. “If they get me, Christan, don’t sacrifice yourself. I… I will come back to you, in a new life. You could find me. But I couldn’t bear it if they killed you.”
His hand trembled as he stroked her hair. “They will not kill me, cara. They have been trying for centuries.”
He pulled her against his chest, wrapped his arms, felt her warmth. She was his life. His fingers brushed against her skin. She remained quiet before she asked. “How long have you known?”
He didn’t immediately answer.
“I should thank you for the day, then.”
“Sweet girl—”
“I mean it with all sincerity. If I had known, I would have ruined the pasta.”
He couldn’t respond. Her courage shattered him. He pushed strands of her hair behind her ears and gathered them at her nape, fastening the thick pony tail with a scrunchy tie and then twisting it into a knot. There was little more he could do except prepare her the best that he could.
“It’s normal to feel afraid,” he said. “But you’re strong. You know the layout of this villa. You can maneuver in the dark. Do you remember the chapel? There’s a connecting tunnel now, through a door in the kitchen pantry. If you leave, run to the chapel. Go through the old priest’s door and head for the trees—the trees will provide cover. You’ll be safe there, cara. We have surveillance and one of us will always be there. Stay low and in the shadows. Put this on.” He handed her a dark zippered sweatshirt that had been waiting on the table. “Breathe, but quietly. Use the tricks Arsen taught you and keep them out of your mind. Do you remember the alley?” He stroked her cheek while she fumbled with the zipper. “It will look like that, smell like that. It will sound like that.”
“I hate that sound.”
“I know you do. And I know you are you now,” he added. “But I need you to stay alive, and I have to ask you to be Gaia again, I have to fucking change you back into her and you have to accept it. You need to remember what it’s like to fight with a spear and knives. When you knew how to kill. You did, then, do you remember? When your father’s goats were attacked and you had to kill the lion? You didn’t like doing it, you cried the whole time, but you fought hard and you won. Let me into your mind, cara. Lower that shield Arsen taught you.” He pressed her left forefinger against the line that curled around her right wrist. Watched the expressions cross her face. Even in the dark he was aware of every emotion.
“This is Gaia.”
“Is that real?” she whispered.
“This is the way the lines work. They’re sensate memories, remember? That’s real experience you’re feeling, remembered from the past and knowledge you need.”
Christan’s arms shook as he held her, his mouth pressed against her temple.
“I’ve given you what I can,” he whispered, surging a pulse of power into her mind. “It’s a stronger defense because it comes from me.”
“I can feel it. It’s—different.”
“You may hear me telepathically, now. Don’t be frightened.”
“This isn’t costing you anything, is it? You’re not weakening yourself to protect me?”
“No,” he said. “Just stay low and out of sight. Don’t get cornered. Always know how to get out.”
A dog barked in the distance. The sound cut off abruptly.
A few seconds later a high-pitched scream.
Tears were running down her face.
“Honor comes from taking the right action, cara,” he said. “Not from the outcome. I have to do this.”
She reached up and gently touched his cheek. “Remember the way we loved beneath the tree,” she said. “But be who you have to be.”
His mouth lifted in that hard-bladed smile, promised pain with heartless skill.
“I will.”
Honor comes from taking the right action, not the outcome.
Lexi stood in the dark after Christan left. She’d known, when he’d said those words, that part of her would break this night. The earth was churning with the threat of advancing powers. They came from all directions. Old imprints, and new, and she drew cold comfort from the fear rising in the night air. Christan was formidable. A legend who once terrified the ancient world. Lexi hoped the fear in the hearts of the advancing enemy was that fear.
She touched her wrist, dragged her thumb across the memory line the way Christan had done, feeling the electricity beneath her skin. Images flashed into her mind. It wasn’t like watching a dream sequence; more like relearning to ride a bike. You might fall the first time. But muscle memory snapped back and the skill return.
Lexi’s fingers curled around a remembered spear. She thought of the words Christan whispered in the dark. How he held her. “Run to the chapel,” he’d said. But she remembered Gaia, now. She would need more than one option for escape.
“Find the high ground,” said the father as he led the daughter to the hills. “Let the lion come to you.”
“Papa, I don’t want to kill lions.”
“The lion will not hesitate to kill you, Gaia. Remember that. Once you strike, do not stop striking until the lion is dead. You can cry about him later.”
She had cried then, but she wouldn’t cry now. She listened to the steady beating of her heart. She imagined the interior of the villa, saw herself moving through the dark, working through the options. If she couldn’t get to the chapel, she could run to the second floor; the windows weren’t barred, but the drop to the ground would probably break her legs. She could hide and wait for the lions to approach. She could do what Christan warned against and run outside.