My Merlin Awakening (12 page)

Vane’s arms tightened around me. “I should kick your ass.”

Matt took a breath. “It had to be done. I was sure I would be able to pull Ryan back—”

“Except you weren’t able,” Vane spat.

“What happened to the girl?” I asked. “The nymph?”

“She’s dead. She won’t be coming back,” Matt said.

I laid my head against Vane’s chest. “I shot her.”

“You rescued her,” Matt corrected. “Whoever made her safeguard this has left her alone for centuries. That’s why she was so desperate to make the trade.”

I stared at the trident. “I don’t like that thing.”

Vane’s fingers tightened around me. “Don’t judge it by the nymph. We don’t know what its purpose is.”

“
Zusyati Marsti
,” Matt commanded. Wind whirled around the drenched attic, renewing and restoring it. Our clothes dried too.

The guardians from the other room rushed inside, crowding the tiny attic. One looked at us anxiously. “We heard noises, but couldn’t enter.”

“We’re done here.” The trident in one hand, Matt picked up Excalibur from the floor in the other. “We found what we came for.”

The guardians’ eyes fell on the trident. They nodded. One took out his phone. He put it to his ear. In a brief conversation, he asked to get picked up.

Matt turned to Vane. “Oliver was the one who attacked us. Not Rourke.”

“You still want to meet him after tonight? Oliver is supposed to be under Rourke’s control. How do we know he didn’t just send him in?” Vane said.

Matt returned his gaze steadily. “We need to meet him. He may have an idea who this belongs to.”

“Fine,” Vane said. “But Ryan’s not going to be there. I’ll take her to my place.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the furious way he watched me, as if he dared me to test him, had me shutting it.

Matt didn’t look thrilled, but he nodded. “The further away she is, the better.”

“I’ll stay with Mom,” Grey said to me.

Vane marched towards the attic’s exit. “Let’s get out of this hole.”

“I can walk—” I started.

“No, you can’t,” he said.

I gave the eerie attic one last look as we entered the passageway. “Does this mean the house isn’t haunted anymore?”

Walking behind us, Matt laughed. “There’s still a portal here. The tourists will be speculating about cold drafts for as long as this place stands.”

***

Vane drove down a one-lane street past a huge pond and into an apartment complex just outside Concord. As late as it was, not a soul wandered in the cul-de-sac parking lot. Gorgeous trees dusted with fresh snow provided shelter for the cars. A thin strip had been cleared in the foot-deep snow leading up the walkways to buildings. I could see the dark outline of slumbering woods just behind the complex. We took the elevator to the third floor.

When I commented on it, he replied, “I like being up high.”

As we reached the door, a sense of anticipation went through me. I’d never been to his place. We hadn’t risked it because we couldn’t be seen together. I had not been in his flat at Avalon Prep either, although I’d lived just across from him after my dorm got burned (long story). I
had
seen his office at Avalon Prep—a large room with a mind-boggling number of flat screen TVs.

I found myself curious and a little apprehensive. I had yet to be completely alone with Vane. Ever.

Vane waved his hand across the knob to unlock the door. He bowed and motioned me to enter. “Milady.”

“Do you even carry a key?” I took a step inside.

“Why bother?” Vane waved a hand and low sconces flickered on.

My eyes widened. The apartment was spotless, modern, and without any pretension. High-end electronics took up the living room, of course. A gorgeous kitchen with granite countertops housed the latest appliances. However, the centerpiece was a set of glass doors that showed off a balcony with a view of the serene waters of the pond.

“We’ve got a morning flight,” Vane said as he walked into the kitchen. “We can stop by the house after the meeting if you want, but it’ll have to be quick—”

“What?” I squawked.

“Catch up, DuLac. We head back to Avalon Prep tomorrow.” He started taking out a few packages of food from a huge, glass-doored refrigerator. The fridge contained mostly meat and beer. “If you recall, you agreed.”

“Only if I met with Rourke—”

“After tonight, not going to happen.”

I watched him zap some fish while fresh lemons cut themselves. “What about the trident? You are going to leave it in Matt’s hands?”

“Of course not, but it doesn’t impact you yet. We’ll figure out what it means and then bring you in. You’ll be safest at Avalon Prep until then.”

“What about school?”

Vane gave me a smug smile. “What day is it?”

“Friday.” I glanced out the glass doors. A dull moon hung low in the sky. “Well, probably Saturday.”

“Winter recess. You’ve got the week off.” He served the fish onto two plates. A packet of salad on the counter flopped around, shaking up the contents inside and then opened itself as Vane handed me a bowl. “We’ve got at least that long before anyone worries about where you are.”

I should have been getting mad at his high-handedness, but my stomach grumbled and I started eating instead. The fish was perfect. Vane watched me with amusement. In minutes, I devoured the contents of my plate. Vane put a glass of iced tea in front of me. I noticed he stocked iced tea, my favorite, when I knew he wasn’t an iced tea kind of guy.

I yawned.

Vane waved his hand and the dishes floated into the dishwasher. The dishwasher buzzed on. I yawned again. Sipping a beer, he went to the lone closet in the living room and withdrew a pillow and blanket. He dumped them on a short leather sofa.

I walked toward a darkened door.

In a blink, Vane appeared in front of me to block the way.

I frowned at him. “Bathroom.”

He pointed me to a corner just to the left. A thin door stood closed. “That way.”

My forehead furrowed. “Why don’t you want me to see your bedroom?”

The hard line of his chest expanded and fell. His mouth curved into a leer. “Do you want to join me in it?”

Whoa
. Conflicting waves of desire and danger shot though me. I must have stared too long because he grabbed my shoulders and turned me around.

“I thought not,” he mumbled and gave me a small push toward the other door.

In the bathroom, I washed my face with force. I wished I could wash away my own thoughts so easily. My over-sensitized skin tingled at the spots where Vane’s fingers had gripped me. Every nerve strummed in one mournful note—I wished I’d never seen the other world. How wonderful it had been to forget, just for one second, the burden of the sword. The uncertainty that came with not knowing what it meant for the future. My heart beat slowly.

If I had a future.

The biggest worry in my life was supposed to be college, the next game, and putting on the prom. I had already put a deposit down on a place in Boston. The committee and I had finally picked a theme too—
Under the Sea
. Or as the prom-haters dubbed it, “
Little Mermaid.”
Ironic. After tonight, I’d had enough of water.

All of the Candidates identified to pull the sword from the stone had been living with the idea of certain death for months. Before the Council had pulled us in to train, the trial itself had killed every Candidate who tried to pull the sword. The thing was that none of us ever expected to survive. Well, we
had
survived. I had pulled the sword from the stone and now I had to deal with what that meant—my life hanging at the edge of the blade.

I’d spent the last few months hiding from that truth. No matter how much I wanted it, nothing was going to be normal again.

Suddenly, I needed to see Vane. I needed an anchor in the chaos. Without another thought, I opened the bathroom door. I crossed three steps to the bedroom. The door was closed. I flung it open. I stopped.

Lamps around the room showcased a… simple twin mattress. The long length of the wall made it seem even smaller. A low, barely-there, wooden stand held up the mattress. The whole setup seemed more pallet than bed. However, that wasn’t what arrested me to the spot.

Wall-to-wall pictures of me surrounded the space.

To the right, one wall had about a hundred pictures of me on the lacrosse field. On the wall with the door, pictures showed me training at the gym in Ragnar Manor. To the left, above a massive desk with a lone computer, hung pictures of me at school, talking with friends. In the middle, past the opening of the en-suite bathroom, eight-by-tens of me in the same pose at various places—Texas, Concord, Avalon Prep, and London. In all of them, I seemed to be staring off at some unseen object.

The sound of running water from Vane’s bathroom penetrated my haze. I moved quickly. Going to his desk, I flipped open the computer. The screen prompted me for the password. I typed in one word. It rejected it.

I typed in its variation.
Vivane
. The screen dinged with happy acceptance.

“Nice password,” I muttered under my breath.

On the desktop, a ton of folders popped up. They were all labeled neatly. Every single Candidate I knew had a folder. I saw one with Grey’s name. I flipped it open. Video files went back to when we’d started training at Avalon Prep, but continued as late as yesterday. I opened a note file at the bottom. It was log of his assessments of our training. At the bottom, a chart stated eighty-five percent readiness. By the chart, a highlighted note stated “twenty percent substitution likeness.”

I went back to the desktop. I opened my folder next. The same thing. I opened his notes. Seventy-five percent readiness. The highlighted note stated “substitution possible.” A folder on Oliver was red-flagged. I moved the cursor to click on it.

“You just couldn’t resist, could you?”

Vane’s voice made me jump. He stood at the entrance of the bathroom, wearing just a towel.

I shut the lid of the laptop with a click.

“Had enough?” He leaned against the wall in a casual stance, but I wasn’t fooled. A glitter deep in his pupils told me he was poised to strike.

I raised my chin. “Why the stalk-a-razi?”

“Why do you think?”

I ground my teeth. “I have a good idea.”

Vane straightened from the door. He stalked toward me. “Tell me.”

“You’re studying me. You’re figuring out who can replace me.
Substitute
me,” I spat.

“I’m looking at the likely possibilities, yes.”

His easy admittance took the heat out of my words, leaving me with the awful remainder. My eyes closed as if to shut out the hurt. I forced them open. “Why?”

“Because it is still entirely possible to defeat you. And I want to know who would be the most likely candidate.”

“Candidate is the correct word,” I muttered. “I pulled out Excalibur. They didn’t.”

“Yet, there is still the possibility.” Vane flipped open the laptop and punched a key. He pointed at Oliver’s folder. “Ninety percent readiness. Ninety percent likeness. Do you know what that means? He has the ability and the motive. If he wants to, he could actually succeed at taking the sword from you.”

“How?” I said.

He inclined his head. “I don’t know for certain, but if you get killed… who knows? Or maybe just defeat you, even with Excalibur in your hands.”

“You and Matt can defeat me.”

Vane’s lips curved up. “We can’t take the sword, remember? We were disqualified a long time ago.”

“Why am I seventy-five percent?”

“The possibility would be much slimmer if you were truly bonded with the sword. You’re not. You’re resisting it. You barely even want to touch it. It’s not going to be good enough. We do not yet know why the sword has returned, but it was for a reason and if you don’t accept that you could doom us all.”

Words. They could hurt. Even though I knew he spoke nothing but the truth. Even though I had figured it out myself. Hearing it somehow made it sting more. I glanced around at the pictures. Each one mocked me.

I wasn’t a person. I was
the Candidate
. The dummy who’d won the prize.

Vane’s dark hair spiked up at odd angles. It emphasized his bold cheekbones. My eyes traveled over his bare chest, the hard lines of six-pack abs. His smooth skin, its perfection broken only by a puckered scar just above his heart, invited my touch.

Exactly what prize had I won?
Being so close together should have thrilled me, yet I couldn’t get past the hollow nothingness I sensed widening inside.
Did he want to be near me or want to be near the sword?
Matt had made his preference clear tonight. Vane… I didn’t know, but I had hoped. Foolish hope.

I turned and started to walk out of the bedroom.

“Ryan,” he said softly, at my back.

I stopped at the door.

“Why did you come in here?”