Impulse (26 page)

‘You, too,' I said, looking at Marko. ‘Please stick together.'

‘Of course,' he said, swinging his arm back around Robbie's big shoulders.

After kissing Robbie goodbye, Lily giggled and dragged me towards the watery veil.

It was like passing through a portal from one world to another.

Loud, insanely happy people crammed the streets and continued to honour Kraja's moon by dancing around her. It was chaos. Lily and I tried to dance but we were wedged firmly in place between two women who looked like they were trying to perform the fertility dance but were too squished to do so.

I stared up at the moon and shivered. Yes, it was a moon just like the one in the picture, and…maybe I was just being paranoid; but something about it just didn't seem right.

A
S THE DAYS
and then weeks passed, with no sign of Lauren or Damir or the monthly cycle, the city's dizzyingly high hopes went on a downward spiral.

People became snarky with one another. Arguments broke out easily. Women in the market stalls argued over simple things like the price of apples. Marko took this as a good sign. ‘Premenstrual tension?' he said, with an awkward shrug.

But when two months passed by without any reported bleeds, Marko turned quiet and meditative like me. He now knew the ‘fertility moon', as it had come to be known, wasn't working. He just needed to know why.

Sometimes he would wake in the middle of the night, and I'd hear the
whoosh
of the door to his secret passageway.

On one such night, after he'd been to stare at the drawings in the secret room, he came to me. Though it was well past midnight, I wasn't asleep. Deep, restful sleep was a luxury I'd given up since the night Kraja first received her moon.

The heavy question mark over Marko's future, and my own, weighed on my mind. There had been whispers
among the guards, relayed to me via Jonathan and Jordon, that most expected Marko to be stood down sometime soon, even without Damir here to take his crown; that Sylvia would take the throne. And, also, that this was all on my head—Miranda, the land girl; the moon had been
her
idea.

I also fretted for Lauren's wellbeing, and that of my grandparents. It sickened me to imagine Lauren inviting Damir into our family home and putting Nana and Pop in direct danger.

As soon as I heard the rapping on my door I sat up. I'd taken to sleeping with our adjoining door half open so that I could hear Marko through the night. It gave me comfort to hear him breathing not too far away. In truth, I would rather have slept beside him, where I could reach out and be sure he was there and alive. But I knew he worried about losing control with me and going too far. Maybe it was time to tell him that I wouldn't mind. That I wasn't scared. That I wanted to have sex with him.

‘Are you okay?' I asked when I saw the dark circles under his eyes and the troubled expression on his face.

‘I couldn't sleep,' he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He rubbed his palms up and down his thighs and stared at the ground. ‘The air in Marin has changed. People are angry. Sylvia won't speak to me.' His cool hand found mine and stroked my skin. ‘It's only a matter of time before the people turn on me, too. And rightly so. I didn't deliver as I'd promised.'

Marko stared at me with eyes so dark with sadness I had to look down at the bedcovers; I couldn't stand to see so much pain. ‘We might be separated, Miranda. I can't bear the idea of it, but we have to prepare ourselves.'

‘It won't happen,' I said, kneeling so that I could wrap my arms around Marko's neck and press my face to his cheek. ‘I won't let anybody hurt you.'

He made a low sound in his throat and buried his face in my hair and wrapped his arms around me. ‘I only worry for when I'm not here to protect you.'

‘I should never have suggested the stupid moon idea unless I was one hundred per cent sure it would work.'

Marko shook his head and, with a gentle stroke of his thumb, wiped away the stream of tears from my cheek.

‘If you hadn't suggested the moon, I'd most likely be dead by now. You've bought me time.' He tilted his face and brushed his lips softly across mine. ‘And each second with you is precious.'

With my arms around his neck, I drew him closer and kissed him back, at first softly and then feverishly, my fingers threading through his short dark waves, as my lips and tongue explored his mouth.

He moaned softly and ran his hands down my back and up again to tangle in my hair. I fell back against the pillow, bringing Marko with me. We lay chest to chest, our wild hearts beating against each other's, our breathing laboured.

‘Stay with me, tonight,' I whispered, a warm blush heating my cheeks. ‘We don't know what tomorrow will bring, and I want to be with you.'

A soft sigh escaped his lips, and he dropped his head into the crook of my neck.

‘You might regret it in the morning,' he said, his words vibrating against my skin, his breathing hot. ‘I need to be sure that you really want it.' He started to kiss and gently suck on my neck. ‘That you really want me, as much as I want you.'

I moaned and arched up against him.

‘We might be dead in the morning,' I said, before sliding my hands down to his lower back and pressing him harder against me. ‘And I really, really, want you.'

Marko raised his head and stared deep into my eyes. ‘As long as you're absolutely sure.'

I nodded my head vigorously, suddenly impatient and tired of talking. A sense of foreboding gnawed at my insides, making me feel as though we had limited time; that, any second now, Marko and I could be ripped apart.

Marko smiled down at me softly, before bending his head to kiss me again. His lips were hot and urgent, and his hands gentle when he stroked my face and neck. I slid my hands up his shirt and explored the smooth skin of his front, the hard, flat muscles of his stomach, my pulse racing when his breath quickened at my touch.

Just when my hands moved lower, to undo the button on Marko's pants, the sound of a heavy door slamming came from Marko's room.

His body turned rigid in my arms.

Footsteps thundered through the adjoining door and into my room. Marko looked at me, his eyes wide. ‘Oh, God, Miranda, I love—'

But before he could finish I screamed.

An unshaven Damir loomed over the bed, grinning like a madman, his green eyes wild and shiny.

Marko rolled off the bed and seized the daggers from his boots. His shirt was crumpled and his lips slightly swollen from our kissing.

I leapt to my feet and stood beside him.

‘Shall I call the guards, Marko?'

Damir laughed and held his empty palms in front of his body and waved them about. ‘No sense calling my men for
me. I've no plans to harm you, Marko.' He said Marko's name like he was spitting out poison.

‘They're my men now. You left your post,' said Marko, stepping forward.

Damir stepped back, feigning innocence. ‘You don't want to kill your king. Trust me; you'll end up with a bad reputation for life.' He laughed. ‘I speak from experience, remember?'

Marko paled and then reddened with anger, his daggers still upheld.

Damir's gaze landed on me. ‘Get ready to kiss me, Randy, because I've brought you a gift direct from land.'

I blinked and looked to Marko, who was turning the daggers in his hands over and over.

‘What are you saying?' Marko demanded.

‘Family,' Damir said. ‘Randy's family are here.'

‘You mean?' I shook my head. ‘What I think you mean?'

‘Yes; your grandparents. They've been put up in your old room, and in a couple of days you may visit them.' He performed a little bow, complete with circling hand.

I stood there, staring into space for a long moment before tears sprang to my eyes. I looked to Damir, waiting for him to laugh and declare it all a joke; but his face only softened, so much that he almost resembled Marko.

‘You can thank me whenever you're ready,' he said. ‘I'm happy to have a polygamous marriage during my reign. I might even start a new trend here in Marin. Declare polygamy law.'

Marko dropped his blades and lunged at Damir, shoving him up against the wall. A guard waiting in the wings started forward but Damir raised a hand to halt him.

I bent down and collected Marko's daggers from the ground and tucked them behind my back.

‘What? You don't believe me?' he asked Marko, his eyes sparkling with excitement and evil and spite all at once.

‘I believe you,' spat Marko. ‘But now I want to kill you for risking their lives by bringing them here.'

‘You flatter me,' said Damir, his hand to his heart, a theatrical smile on his lips. ‘But the fact is,' he stared hard at Marko, ‘Miranda's family are here now. Her sister is about to have my child. I am the true and rightful king, and you are guests in my home right now; so, unless you want to be thrown out, so that Miranda will never see her grandparents again, you'd better learn how to behave like a good baby brother.'

I edged closer to Marko and, instead of placing a dagger in his hand, I leaned in and whispered, ‘Let him go, please. I have to see them.'

He stiffened beneath my touch but eventually withdrew his hold on his brother. It was hard for him to bow down like this and submit to his brother's request, and harder still for me to watch. But I didn't want him hurt. And I wanted to see my grandparents, wanted to be there when they woke up from their drug-addled state.

‘This room and that one,' Damir nodded to Marko's room, ‘they're both yours. I've repossessed my old one. It should be ready by now. It's bigger than these quarters, and I don't really care to share sheets with you, brother. We're not that close.'

Marko flinched beside me, then took the daggers from my hands and sheathed them.

‘We'll stay. Until Miranda's grandparents have woken. When they are well enough to travel, we will all leave the castle and live in the city.' He glared at Damir. ‘That is, if they survive the next couple of days.'

Damir shrugged. ‘They wanted to come.' He pointed to me. ‘Your grandfather begged me to bring them after I told him about the light crystal's powers. He wants to help your grandmother find her marbles again.'

In a blink I found myself slapping Damir's cheek so hard his head swung to the side. He swore out loud and rubbed his cheek. My own hand throbbed like I'd just hammered it with a mallet. I shook it and tried not to show the pain.

Again he held his palm up to the twitching guard beside him, while Marko restrained my arms with his.

‘Don't speak about my grandmother like that. Don't go near them,' I spat.

Damir nodded. ‘Still feisty I see,' he said with a grin, his eyes roving down to my heaving chest.

Marko lunged for Damir again; but this time the guards were signalled by Damir's hand, and within moments they had Marko's arms pinned back and a glinting dagger pressed against his neck.

A single bead of blood streamed down Marko's neck.

‘Let him go!'

‘It's okay, Miranda,' he said, breathlessly, his eyes on mine. ‘Damir won't kill me. It might jog the memory of Marin's people; remind them that he is a murderer who can't be trusted as their king.'

Damir pushed his face right up to Marko's, nose to nose, blocking my view.

‘I'm the king. If I choose to kill you, nobody will doubt my choice.' He smiled. ‘And if I decide that one heir is not enough, I'll take another wife.' He cast a glance over his shoulder. ‘Miranda, for example.'

Marko struggled against Damir, causing the dagger to release another trickle of blood.

‘But if you behave, you and your girlfriend can live happily ever after.'

The guards drew Marko's arms back tighter still, until he groaned in agony and closed his eyes.

‘Stop it! You'll break his arms!' I punched the nearest guard's solid arm and Damir's hand shot out and grabbed me by the wrist, hard.

‘Tell your boyfriend to accept me as king, and to stop fighting me, and I'll promise not to go near you or him.'

I bit my lip to stifle the scream in my throat as Damir bent my wrist back, his face still in Marko's. Marko's eyes widened as he watched my face contorting.

‘You're king!' Marko spat. ‘You're the king. I won't fight you. Just let her go!'

‘Say
you're my king
and that you'll do as I say from now on.'

‘You're
my
king, and I'll do as you say,' Marko spluttered, sweat dripping from his temples. ‘Just let her go.'

Damir released my wrist and, with a nod of his head, had the guards release Marko, who fell to the floor on his knees, gasping for breath.

I dropped to his side and wrapped my arms around him, listening with relief to the sound of Damir's and his guards' footsteps moving away until it died out altogether.

For a long time we remained on the floor, holding each other wordlessly, until my tears, and the blood on Marko's neck, had dried.

‘Lie down on the bed and let me clean you up.'

Touching the wound with tentative fingers, he shrugged. ‘It's just a scratch.'

I dragged him to the bed and made him lie on his back. The defeat in his eyes, as he stared up at the ceiling, brought a lump to my throat. I wet a flannel and came to sit beside him.

He winced when I pressed the cloth to his skin, the muscles in his neck cording.

‘Should I stop?'

‘No. Keep going. I think it's only superficial,' he said, through gritted teeth. ‘That's why it stings. Just a surface wound.'

I found his hand and squeezed it, before again dabbing the flannel against his neck. When most of the blood came away, I saw that he was right. The wound was superficial and had stopped bleeding altogether. But it didn't stop me wincing every time I looked at it.