The Celestial Kiss Page 22

  I didn’t say anything, but a chill scurried up my spine and flushed down my arms. “And Janna.” I realized now how we’d fallen so easily into a pattern.

  “She lost her best friend that night. She was so...empty for so long, and then you came along.”

  I couldn’t break away from his gaze; the depth and sorrow in his eyes were astounding, but there was something more there. Perhaps misplaced admiration? Maybe that was a stretch, but whatever it was rendered me incapable of looking away. “And you?”

  “I don’t see it.” He said honestly, narrowing his eyes in thought.

  “Good.” I whispered. “I’m sure your sister was great, but I’m glad I don’t make you think of her.”

  “Why?”

  I answered honestly before it even occurred to me to lie. “I don’t want to hurt you like that. When I’m gone, I don’t want you to have to relive that all over again.”

  James considered my answer a moment and then stood up. “I’m sorry.”

  That caught me off guard. “Sorry?” I repeated, as though I’d never heard of such a word.

  “For Olias. I’m sorry he told you that.”

  “I’m not.”

  James didn’t have to say that he thought that was crazy. “He had no right to tell you about that night. He knows, Lilith. I don’t know how, but he knows about you, and he is determined to make you suffer for it.”

  I shrugged.

  “That’s it?” James prompted, eyeing me.

  “I’m not surprised. How could he not want to make me suffer the way she did? Or the way he did, or your brother? Your whole family suffered, died a little because of what the vampires did to you. It’s only natural he would want retribution. That’s what love is.”

  “No.” James denied. “Love isn’t about vengeance. It’s about trust. Jocelyn wouldn’t want anybody to suffer for her, and Olias should know that.”

  “People lose their ability to think rationally in love. They’ll do whatever they feel like they have to, whatever the other tells them to, no matter how ridiculous. She may not want bloodshed, but if that’s what Olias needs to feel whole again, we can’t deny that to him.”

  “Like Hell we can’t.” James snorted. “Why are you acting like this?”

  “Like what?” I asked, honestly unsure what he meant. “I can’t change my fate, and you know it. For all intents and purposes, I’m already dead. Whether that’s karma or fate or whatever, I don’t know, but who are we to try and fight it? If Olias wants to speed up the process...”

  “Don’t act like a martyr.” His voice teetered toward pleading.

  “Don’t make this a personal attack.” I countered. “This is what I’m used to.”

  “To senseless acts of retribution?” He asked doubtfully.

  “To my future being out of my hands. The first decision I ever made for myself was leaving father’s home. And look how that turned out. Some people are just pawns, put into place to help advance others. I have no purpose other than to follow orders. At home with my father, my brothers and sisters, Xian. And here with you, your father, and Olias. You have more power over my own life than I do.”

  “You’re just willing to accept this?” James was incredulous, as though the thought of me denying my own liberties upset him.

  “What?” I asked, “My death or my life?”

  “Both!” He snapped. “You’re stubborn. Why aren’t you fighting?”

  “You can’t fight fate.” I said with a small shake of my head. “Besides, what is there to fight? I’ve lived...that’s all I could do.”

  “You haven’t lived. For God’s sake, you aren’t even eighteen! You’re practically a child.”

  “Tomorrow.” I informed him briefly. “Tomorrow I will be eighteen. And I have lived. I’ve had good times and heartbreak, humiliation and glory. I’ve known fear and courage. What more could I get from this life?”

  “How about happiness?” His voice was incredulous. “Or love? Life is about more than just crossing emotions off a list and then throwing in the towel. It’s not a race!”

  “Maybe yours isn’t,”

  He shook his head and for a moment he looked angry as he closed the space between us and pulled me to my feet. “What about passion?” He asked, his voice a new low. The music of it, soft and subtle, was bewitching.

  I choked on my breath, unable to think of anything with him so close to me. My heart was beating its own new rhythm, abandoning my brain in haste to keep me breathing. But my brain would have been useless anyways, because James just barely brushed his lips against mine and I shut down. It wasn’t a kiss. It couldn’t be called a kiss. Not when we were just standing there, breathing the same air. Our lips just happened to be tantalizingly close. Any thoughts that may have been struggling to the surface of my brain were drowned out by the hammering of my heart. James didn’t pull back from me, and I sure as Hell wasn’t going to move away from him. That was all the approval he needed. He closed the small space between our bodies until I was sure he could feel the thud of an erratic heart against my rib cage, or the rapid rise and fall of my chest.

  My brain seemed to try and tell me this was a bad idea, but I couldn’t decipher the jumble of thoughts that flitted through my mind. I didn’t want to listen to anything except for the music my heart was creating. I wanted to move into him closer, to grab his hand or throw an arm around his neck. My hand twitched, but I was scared to move, afraid he would realize what he was doing and stop.

  I was kissing him back within an instant, and as it deepened I threw caution to the wind and moved my arm around his neck, pulling him closer. I felt like we were magnets, drawn together by some strange forces, neither of us willing to disengage. But his lips left mine, leaving them cold, and traced my jaw. His hand brushed hair off of my shoulder as his lips rained gentle kisses down my neck.

  He stopped so abruptly it was like a slap in the face and drew back as though he’d been scalded. Without his weight to anchor me to the spot I stumbled backwards and looked at him, bewildered. He seemed to be back to his anger, and I wanted to hate myself for kissing him back. But I couldn’t. Without him close to me, nothing made sense anymore.

  “This is a bad idea.”

  His voice was an echo of something I had started to think a few minutes before, but now it sounded ridiculous. “No.” I shook my head.

  “Yes it is. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “You shouldn’t have stopped.” I said, still breathless.

  James wiped a hand over his face and down his lips, wiping away that kiss, massaging his chin in thought. “You’ve been drinking. You don’t really want me to kiss you.”

  “I…I know what I want.”

  “No, you don’t. You’re upset. You don’t have any control over your life and this is how you’re trying to get some.”

  “Stop trying to tell me how I feel.”

  “You don’t know.” He said, shaking his head. “You don’t know anything, and it’s my fault that you’ll never figure it out. I’m sorry.” Before I could stop him, James was heading for the door.

  “Don’t leave.” I said, my voice edged in desperation. But whether he noticed or not, I had no clue, because he was already out the door. A few seconds later it closed behind him with a loud resonating click. I was alone again, but now it was different. I wasn’t stuck, I wasn’t hiding. I had been left behind. That was the worst kind of alone I could imagine.

  I tried compartmentalizing my brain and my feelings, but couldn’t make it far past fact. He had kidnapped me, and I knew that he could never truly love me because of what I was. He was using me to get what he wanted. He was a werewolf, my born enemy, and three years my senior. And of course, how could I forget the piece de resistance? I was dying.

  But for all that, I couldn’t help but find flaws in those arguments. I had a better life here than I’d had at fathers. And what did it matter if he was my enemy through blood and birth? Rules were meant to be broken. I was practically
eighteen, and though he was older, I was probably just as mature as the run of the mill twenty one year old. He could never love me, but what did I need love for? I’d never felt it, and I could surely get through the next several days without it. He was using me as leverage, but at least he had kept me instead of leaving me out in the woods on my own. And the fact that I was dying made everything so much easier. It would be so much more simple, a way to avoid getting emotionally invested in one another.

  On paper, my excuses for getting him out of my head sounded great. But my counter-arguments sounded equally as promising. I’d tried denial, attempted to ignore the feelings I’d begun to have for him, and that hadn’t gotten me anywhere. But it couldn’t have been him. He was dark and moody at the same time he was practically a saint. He could think of exactly the right thing to say to make me furious, and yet he had a way with words that was almost...gentle. It didn’t matter if he was using me as a hostage or toying with me, because either way, I knew the true reason I hadn’t yet left: I was powerless to resist him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  James was nowhere to be found the next day. I chalked it up to his new-found kingly obligations. I hadn’t seen Janna since she’d left dinner in a hurry the previous night, and now that I knew the story behind Olias’ words, I was worried about her. It was a horrible fate for anybody, but to hear her sister’s final, miserable moments laid bare like that in front of us all…Janna was strong, certainly, but I didn’t know at what point she would break.

  I set out to look for her, both because I was truly concerned for her and because I needed to talk. I’d slept late, and subsequently missed the guests taking their leave. Though the halls echoed with my footsteps, I relished the quiet. It allowed me the chance I needed to come to terms with what had happened last night. Now that the heat of the moment had come to pass, I could analyze my feelings without fear of making any hasty judgments. Although, I suspected that in the light of day, my feelings couldn’t have changed that much.

  What I knew was that I was inexorably drawn to him. What I didn’t know was why. Perhaps it was simply a matter of chemistry, or kismet, or whatever it is that brings two people together. That was the most unlikely answer, but it was the one I favored, for it did not chain me to anything other than humanity, something I’d fought my entire life for.

  James was strong, smart, and loyal. He acted on his passions, yet exercised enough control to keep me guessing. Even now, I didn’t know where he was, what he was doing, and most frustrating of all, how he felt about me.

  We were bonded, but did that create feelings within him that were untrue or give him an excuse to act upon them? He’d kissed me almost out of nowhere, but did that mean he felt something for me? Or had he simply been exercising his control over me because he could?

  The questions consumed me so much that I lost touch with where I was going until I ran smack into someone. The force knocked me back, and I looked up, an apology on my lips. It died when I saw who it was that had nearly blown me over.

  “Look what the cat dragged in,” Olias said, his voice low, rolling on a laugh. “Or, should I say the wolf.”

  I graced him with a smile that took a lot of effort to find. “Hello.” I tried to make my voice pleasant, but a bitter edge managed to cut through it. I made to move around him, but he blocked me with an arm out.

  “Not so fast. I had something to ask you.”

  “Well, if you want to talk politics again, you can wait a few hours. I know you prefer to do that at the dinner table.”

  “I don’t give a damn about politics.” He sneered. A shiver ran down my spine; something about him reminded me of Xian.

  “Excuse me.” I attempted to shrug him off, but he didn’t move. Instead, he stood solid as a wall and gave me a once over, drinking me in from head to toe. His eyes lingered momentarily on my neck, and noticing that, I crossed my arms, defensive.

  “Who do you think you’re fooling?” He asked, his expression dark. It looked like more than a few days had passed since he’d shaven…or slept, for that matter.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Obviously there is something going on here. Something other than the lies you’ve been spreading.”

  I swallowed, hoping I looked impassive or incredulous; anything but guilty. It took a lot of effort to make sure my voice didn’t tremble when I spoke. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “I’m talking about you and the accidental king. You’re not in love...that’s obvious. You played your guests. The question is, why?”

  “I’m not...” I said, in shock. It served my purpose well. “I love him.”

  “Maybe you do.” He shrugged, lifting one shoulder lazily. “And maybe you don’t. But do you really think that you would love him if you didn’t have to?”

  “I don’t have to.”

  His smile was just short of sympathetic. “Oh yes you do. He bit you?”

  “Yes.” I don’t know why I admitted it, but Olias could have figured that out on his own anyways.

  “Then you should know you’ve lost your free will. That bite bound you to him.”

  “I’m aware.” I held my head up in defiance. “It doesn’t change anything.”

  “Because you love him, right? But you don’t even realize what you’ve lost...what he’s taken from you.”

  “James has given me more than I could ask for.” It was an automatic answer, but not practiced. I hadn’t intended to say that, but once it was in the air, I realized it was true.

  “Right.” He nodded, unconvinced. “When he bit you did he tell you that it would keep you connected?”

  “There wasn’t really time for that.”

  “He didn’t warn you that once you were tied together there was no going back? There is no escape from this Hell…not even death?”

  “You—”

  “You’re his prisoner. His captive. That scar on your shoulder,” He nodded at the mark in question and I looked down to see that the wide cut of my shirt left the scar revealed. “It might fade, but what it means...that doesn’t. It’s not just for show. It’s a commitment for a reason. When he bit you he filled your bloodstream with drugs that confused your mind into thinking you love him. But it’s an illusion...a curse.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I love him because of who he is.” The words left my tongue before I had fully vetted them. I hadn’t meant to say I loved him.

  “If you love him at all, it’s because you’ve been forced to. But look at the facts: he stole from you. Your dignity, your willpower, and your choice. He took all of that away from you without asking.”

  “I don’t see why you care.” I moved to go past him, but Olias anticipated my move and stepped to the side, barring my path.

  “Doesn’t it bother you,” He said slowly, sure to keep his voice low, “that you are nothing to him? You are a toy.” He lifted a hand and I stepped back reflexively, but the gesture wasn’t a threat in itself. “You’re scared. I see it in your eyes.”

  His dark eyes trailed down my collar bone before creeping up to the other side of my neck where my hair hung in its usual place, concealing the marks that I so desperately despised. He brushed it away in and his eyes widened. He’d pointed it out before that I had many scars, but up close, it was that much more obvious. Understanding seemed to ignite in him.

  I tried to jerk out of his way and succeeded in moving half an inch before he pulled me back into place, knocking my head against the wall. Stars shot out before me in a burst of colors; nausea rolled in my stomach. “There are so many of them.” He sounded disgusted and awed at the same time. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “I think you need to walk away,” I warned, feeling my anger beginning to grow, fueled by my embarrassment.

  I was not as fearsome as I hoped, for he moved closer. Panic jolted through me, but I miscalculated. It was not my lips that Olias moved for with an open mouth. Instead, he swung his head over to the stretch of skin on my neck th
at was scarred with crescent bite marks and pressed his lips there, pausing to gauge my reaction in the tensing of my body. His teeth grazed my skin.

  I thought of the training I’d done with Delilah. She’s insisted that I could not always be on the defensive…sometimes I would have to attack. I punched him as hard as I could. It wasn’t half as satisfying as I’d anticipated.

  “Step away from her.” An icy voice broke through the sound of my heart pumping in my ears. Olias turned his head slowly, keeping his posture, and fixed Julius with a defiant look. I took the chance to knock Olias in the head, causing a momentary confusion, which I manipulated to break away from his hold. I was standing behind Julius in the next instant, watching Olias struggle to regain his composure.

  “What are you guys hiding?” He questioned, his eyes on me. The threat was not me, but Julius, and he knew that. We all did. And yet , Olias kept his eyes trained on me like a dog bracing for attack.

  “Walk away.” Julius said by way of response. His voice was hard, but I recognized the authority. He may not be the king, but he had been born for the job all the same.

  “Not until I know the truth.”

  “The truth?” Julius sneered. “The truth will not bring Jocelyn back. It will not stop the pain.” His voice was cold and hard.