Page 77 of Kick the Candle (Knight Games 2)
I returned the favor, clamping down on the web of flesh between his neck and collarbone. Decadent blood flowed over my tongue, and I drank my fill. When I pulled back, Rick's eyes were black disks. The darkness came closer and closer, widening its circumference until it swallowed me.
Trust me was the last thing I heard before my eyes popped open to the sound of Poe thrashing against my bedroom window. The sun was up. I was alone under the covers. As I tossed back my quilt and pushed myself up off my mattress to let my familiar inside, I licked my lips.
I could have sworn I tasted Rick's blood.
ie
Caw.
Snap. Snap.
Flap, flap, flap.
I opened my eyes to find Poe dancing on my chest.
"Are you dead?" he asked.
"Do I look dead?"
"Actually, yes. Although more animated than five minutes ago."
Sweeping Poe from my chest, I sat up and straightened my shirt. "How long have I been out?"
"About an hour. I was beginning to worry."
"I saw my own death, again. Honestly, I'm not sure how useful the memory was. I barely got a glimpse of the Book of Flesh and Bone. Most of the memory was about Rick."
"Maybe that was as close as she could get you. Maybe the book is trying to say that Rick was the last person to see it. If that was your first and last memory, Rick may be the key."
"Fantastic." Sarcasm oozed from the word. "So we are back at square one."
"You sound less than enthused about the prospect."
"Poe, I'm not sure I can even trust Rick. After what happened with Gary, how can I know he's being honest with me? And there's something else. Something I never realized before the Book of Light showed me."
"What?"
"Isabella, the first...me, she lured Rick into being the caretaker. You should have seen how smitten he was for her. But he never understood who she really was. He gave himself to her without truly knowing the price."
"He must have loved her greatly."
"And resent her presently."
Poe lowered his head. "What are you saying?"
"I'm not sure." I shook my head. "I just feel heavy in the center of my chest, like I've wronged him. Part of me wonders if he's wronged me in return."
The raven flapped to the window where the last light of day was fading quickly behind the glass. "Maybe you should get over it and make up. He's your only hope of finding the book before Julius does."
"Maybe you should mind your own business, Poe," I snapped. I didn't need his commentary. But as I dragged my magic-drained sack of bones from the attic floor and pulled back the plastic flap so that Poe could go hunting in the cold winter's night, for the first time I saw Rick in a new light. Not as a predator, trying to capture and dominate me, but as my prey, a prisoner of my past, of my heart. The thought saddened and sobered me.
That night, I flopped on my bed, fully clothed and on top of my covers. Without Rick's blood and sex, my body felt weaker, a racecar running on empty. My mind was filled with sharp thoughts that tumbled painfully. I wondered again where he was and if our last fight was our last encounter. Maybe he'd abandoned me too.
No, I'd pushed him away, and rightly so. Or not. I needed him. Thoughts of my house, the book, my life, flitted through my mind as I drifted, but it was Rick that came back again and again to me, young, innocent, unscarred, and human.
* * * * *
The banquet laid out before me was something out of a dream, all manner of fruit and chocolate surrounding silver candelabras that cast the bounty in a golden glow. Next to the table, spread on a chaise lounge, Rick lay staring out an open window. A warm night breeze ruffled his white shirt, spread open and exposing the scythe shaped scar I'd given him. In his fingers, he handled a large bunch of red grapes, popping one and then another into his mouth.
