Blood and Salt (20 page)

HENRY

BRENNON AND I WALKED
to the Larkin lodge in uncomfortable silence. The warmth of his gray eyes had hardened into brushed steel. As we broke through the trees, he gripped my hand. I tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he wouldn't let go.

“Please don't tell anyone,” I pleaded. “It's not Dane's fault.”

When I saw the crowd of people gathered on the lawn, my stomach coiled in knots. It felt like I was walking directly into a hornet's nest.

“Where have you two been all night?” Mrs. Mendoza sighed as she led us toward a group of people swarming around the entry, but she held her head high, as if she were proud.

“Sorry, we lost track of time,” Brennon announced loud enough for everyone to hear. “Did you see the stars last night?” He grinned at me in that perfect Brennon way and
I almost believed him myself. This was the nicest thing he could've done for me, but I was a little unnerved by how easily he switched on the charm.

Everyone stared at us briefly, then glanced away, almost out of respect. Seeing us in this way, Brennon shirtless, me wearing nothing but his shirt, seemed more than acceptable. It seemed
expected.

After making sure they got an eyeful, Brennon steered me toward my brother and Beth, who sat slumped on a quiet corner of the lawn.

“We've been looking for you all night.” Beth jumped to her feet and hugged me.

“What's going on?” I asked.

Rhys raised his head to look at me and I knew something was very wrong. His eyes were bloodshot, his hands trembled as he pointed toward the walkway. I turned to see people carrying what looked like a mummy on a strange-looking wooden stretcher.

“Another person died?” I asked. “Who?”

“Henry,” Rhys murmured, his chin quivering. “Henry is dead.”

It felt like I'd been kicked in the throat. “How?”

“The same way Betsy and Tommy died,” Beth answered as she placed her hand on my brother's shoulder.

“There was so much blood.” Rhys looked like he was going to be sick.

“Blood?” I inhaled sharply. “When did this happen?”

“Sometime during the night,” Beth said.

A terrible thought crept into my mind. Could I have done this? I came out of my blackout, in the corn holding a knife, covered in blood. Could it have been Henry's blood? I dragged my hands through my hair, trying to scrape my brain for any memory. Dane told me he'd seen conduits do miraculous and frightening things in the throes of their ancestor's memories. Was Dane just trying to protect me?

“I'm not going to stand watch over you,” Brennon whispered through gritted teeth. “We should be happy. We've earned that right. This isn't the old days.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I couldn't deal with this right now.

“I need to change my clothes,” I muttered as I hurried into the house and down the stairs to my room. I wanted to close the door on everything, but when I got there I found Spencer Mendoza waiting.

“What are you doing here?”

“I might ask you the same question. You shouldn't even be here anymore.” Spencer circled me like a shark testing its prey. “Where were you last night? And, Ashlyn, don't insult my intelligence by telling me you were with Brennon.” The way he said my name was revolting.

“It's true . . . ask any—”

“You think you're so sly,” Spencer sneered as he stalked toward me. “But I can smell my bastard son all over you. Katia won't stand for it. You know what must be done.”

I felt the ribbon stir against my neck and a familiar dark feeling took over. I didn't even try to suppress it this time, I used it. I charged him, slamming him up against the wall. “If you tell anyone . . . or if you lay a finger on Dane, God help you.” The ribbon slithered free of the bow to coil around his neck. As it cinched tighter and tighter, power surged in my bloodstream like a drug. And I didn't want to stop it. I wanted to kill him.

Spencer grunted, bubbles of saliva speckling the corners of his mouth as he fumbled for something in his breast pocket. A flash of steel. He lashed out at me, swiping the blade across my throat—the sharp pain stunned me. I staggered back. The black silk ribbon went slack as the rage poured out of me along with my life.

FERVOR

GRASPING AT MY THROAT,
I clawed for air, but it was slit wide open.

Blind with terror, I heard Spencer moving around me, digging through my mother's belongings.

Reaching out for anything to grab hold of—my hand grazed Spencer's pant leg, but my hands were too slick with blood, my body too weak to hang on.

As I lay there dying, a tingling warmth spread throughout my body. My skin began to pulse, but it wasn't my skin, it was something deeper than that. I felt raw energy rising inside of me like a powerful wave gaining strength. I wasn't sure if it was real or if I was having an out-of-body experience, so when my lungs filled with air, I reached for my throat, feeling smooth wet skin. Exhaling a ragged breath, I got to my feet, strong and very much alive.

Spencer's eyes went wide as he pressed himself against the wall. He was holding something behind his back. “How? It's not possible . . . it can't be . . . it's
you
 . . .”

“Ash?” Rhys called from the top of the stairs.

As Spencer took off running down the hall, I bolted into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Panicked, I stripped off Brennon's blood-soaked shirt and pumped water into the tub.

I couldn't let my brother see me like this.

Rhys banged on the door.

“I'll be right out,” I said, getting into the tub.

“Ash, are you okay? What happened down here? There's blood everywhere.”

“It's nothing.” I said, frantically soaking the shirt and using it to scrub away the evidence on my body. I wanted to scrub it all away—the symbols, Katia's touch, her scent, Marie's heartache, Teresa's haunting words. And what did Spencer mean when he said, “It's
you
”?

Feeling dizzy, I crouched down, clutching the sides of the white cast-iron tub. I stuck my head under the water, feeling it beat down against my back, trailing into my eyes, my nose, and my mouth, then lifted my chin to the ceiling, heaving for air.

“Ash, you need to open this door, now.”

“Just a minute.” I clamored out of the tub to face the full-length mirror.

I ran my hands over my throat. My heart thrummed like a sick bird in my hollow chest. He'd severed my jugular. I'd felt myself bleeding out, but there was nothing there. It wasn't just my throat that was left unmarred—there were no marks or blemishes on my entire body. Even the birthmark under my right arm had vanished. Every bit of me . . . erased.

I racked my brain for answers, but none of this made sense. And then it occurred to me—what if none of this was really happening—what if it was all in my head? Or a vision?

I held my head in my hands, pressing my skull as if I could squeeze out the craziness, but it only seemed to make things worse. I threw on a pair of shorts and a blouse that were hanging from the drying rack. I glanced at myself in the mirror, my hair wild, my eyes pinned with shock—I looked just like Marie on the night she died.

I burst out of the bathroom, nearly knocking my brother off his feet. “I need to be alone,” I said as I ran up the stairs and out the front door.

Longing for fresh air, I took in a deep breath, but the smell of burning hair and flesh filled my lungs. I couldn't help thinking maybe Henry was the lucky one.

As promised, Dane was waiting for me at the edge of the corn.

“Thank God you're here,” I said as I ran into his arms. But as soon as my feet hit the soil, I felt the memories rising up inside of me. I felt myself falling. I didn't have the strength
to fight anymore. I dove into the sickness with an almost religious fervor, letting the memories infect every cell in my body.

It felt as if everything were leading me to this moment.

The wave overtook me in one fell swoop . . . and I was gone.

BLUE

MARIE TAKES MY HAND
as we step through the corn. I feel the warmth of her skin against mine, like she's just been lying in the sun. She looks back at me, a bittersweet smile curling the corners of her downturned mouth.

I pull out the stone hidden in the folds of my gown, and unravel the black silk ribbon.

Hearing the stalks rustling, I turn, thinking it's Coronado walking toward me, but it's not Coronado. Something unexpected grabs hold of my heart.

• • •

I felt myself splintering away from the memories, until I saw Dane's face before me.

As I stood on the threshold of the sacred circle, one foot in, one foot out, Dane stared at me longingly. He opened his mouth to speak—

“You promised you wouldn't stop me,” I whispered.

Dane's jaw clenched; he had a tortured look on his face.

I gazed into his eyes for what I feared could be the last time and a pang seized me. I swallowed all of the emotion threatening to take me over. It took nearly all of my strength to walk away from him.

As he let go of my hand, I stepped inside the circle, where I knew he couldn't reach me.

I'd always said Dane's eyes were so clear I could never tell exactly what color they were—but today, I could see they were blue.

As soon as the stalks closed in around me, I felt the memories taking hold of me once again, pulling me into the deepest, darkest place.

• • •

Marie glances back at me, her eyes glistening in the moonlight. “You found my ribbon.”

A wave of nausea rips through me, but I swallow the bile burning the back of my throat. “Great deeds require great sacrifice,” I whisper as I slip the ribbon around her throat.

Coiling the ends of the ribbon around my fist, I pull with all my might and bash her head against the hard earth.

As I bind her ankles with the corn-husk rope and drag her toward the chasm, she looks up at me, dazed and gasping, with tears streaming down her face. “I thought you loved me.”

I secure the end of the rope around a metal cleat embedded in the stone at the edge of the chasm and cradle her in my arms. “My sweet girl.” I brush golden hair away from her damp cheek. “You've
betrayed me. But I'm giving you a second chance. Your blood will be the blood that brings me a vessel. One day, we'll be together again, as you were once inside of me.”

“You're mad.” Marie tries to raise her head, but it's futile.

The golden blade throbs in my hand.

I tighten my grip and brace her against my breast as I slit the palm of her hand.

Warm blood spills, seeping into the earth, penetrating the vines, worming its way into the deepest roots.

I kiss the tremulous breath rattling on her lips.

“A mother's love is the greatest love of all.” I pull the ribbon from her throat and nudge her body over the edge.

DESCENT

I CAME TO,
lying in the sacred circle, my face hanging over the edge of the crevice. The feeling of loss so heavy I could hardly lift my head.

I peered through my disheveled hair to see the weighted rope tied to a metal cleat embedded in the rock ledge.

I grabbed onto it. The grating sound of the braided cornhusks twisting in my hands, the rough texture against my skin, made me want to scream.

I pulled and pulled until I reached the end—where a skeleton dangled from the end of the rope. Clasping the bones to my chest, I rocked back and forth. “Marie,” I whispered.

All this time I thought it was Coronado dragging Marie through the corn. But it had always been Katia. She sacrificed her own daughter to the Dark Spirit in order to bring Alonso back. Marie betrayed her by telling Coronado where he could find them on the summer solstice, but she was just a girl in
love. She didn't understand.
Is this what love did to you? Turned you into a victim? Or a monster?

The stalks rustled on the perimeter of the circle. Panicked, I dropped Marie's bones into the chasm and crouched, adrenaline blasting, straining to catch a glimpse of what was out there in the corn, when something icy curled around my ankle and yanked me over the edge.

My limbs flailed wildly as I scrambled for purchase. When I finally made contact with something that felt like vines, I latched on to them with everything I had. My body whipped to a stop, bashing me into the jagged rock. Entwining my legs around my newfound tether, I had started to climb, inching my way toward the surface, when a scattering of rocks sounded beneath me.

Hoping it was just my imagination, I squeezed my eyes shut, listening closely.

The rock crumbled so close to me this time, I forgot how to breathe.

Then something brushed my hair and I freaked. “Who's there?” I screamed as I frantically swiped the air around me. I lost my grip on the rope and swung backward.

Thankfully, the root caught my leg, but now I hung upside down, completely inverted—just like Marie.

I tried not to imagine her pain. How long it must have taken for death to come. She might've cried out for days.

I took in a shuddering breath—the grotesque scent of death
was in the air—algae, decay, sour dirt, and a musky odor that seeped into my pores.

“No more,” I cried into the void.

I couldn't take any more of the memories. I couldn't take another moment of heartache, but this wasn't a memory or a dream or a hallucination. I felt another presence in the chasm with me, prickling the back of my neck.

A crunching wet sound followed, like fingernails scraping the side of the rock wall.

“
You
are the vessel,” a voice behind me whispered.

I twisted around, staring into the dark. My mind stuttered as a curtain of gray static threatened to overtake my consciousness.

“
You
are the vessel.” The voice came from the right this time. I spun around, frantic to see what was down here with me.

“Please, stop,” I cried. I felt the light leaving me and the darkness taking hold, stealing away all hope.

“
You
are the vessel.” Like a bullet, the words ricocheted around my brain, until they settled deep inside me.

Images flashed in the darkness. The memory of Katia cutting into my mother's palm—
a vessel at last.
But it wasn't my mother's blood she was referring to. It was mine, inside her womb.

“
You
are the vessel.”

The way I healed when Katia cut into me—my knee at the field—my slit throat—the cut at the gas station—and how I healed the deer.

“
You
are the vessel.”

All of the overwhelming feelings, the intrusive memories, had nothing to do with being a conduit. Teresa told me I wasn't like her. I'd never been a conduit.

“
You
are the vessel.”

Katia had been there since I met her, maybe even before I was born, lurking in my bloodstream. This is how I was tied to Marie. Katia killed her to give me life.

I unwrapped my leg from the vine and let myself fall into the depths, hoping by some miracle, I would die.