Rock Star (Dream Weaver #2) (21 page)

Chapter 23 Sara Smile

              The world took on a whole different perspective after a hot shower and clean clothes. I soaked under the hot water for nearly an hour, letting the torrent of warmth ease my sore, tired muscles. While Nick got a shower too, I pulled out the mother of pearl box with Ari inside. As I fiddled with the lid, the panel Ari’s creator informed me about fell open in my hand. Under the velvet lined panel, I found four crystal phials and a braided leather lanyard with a clasp. Perfect for wearing Ari around my neck.

             
I sat in the warmth of my bedroom, behind a closed door. The tiny blade in spider’s body beckoned to me, called me to spill blood. Compelled by a magic I knew little about, I lifted the magical creature and withdrew the small shiny blade from her abdomen. The thought of the pain was intoxicating as I scratched the sharp tip across the tender flesh of my inner elbow. Only a small flash of fear rushed through me, but the warm, heady drunk of anticipation urged me on. I plunged to blade into my arm in the precise place its tip had chosen. I gasped in pain and delight, closed my eyes like a tweeker getting their fix.

             
“Emari!” Nick stood at the door, perplexed and horrified.

              I started at the sound of his voice, like a child caught in the act, and jerked the blade from my arm. Blood dripped from the knife’s sharp point and I slid the dripping blade back into Ari’s body. She thrummed with my sacrifice.

             
“Why would you do this? Things are not this bad. Things are never this bad,” Nick scolded. He knew the reasons I’d cut myself before, why I fantasized about the cut, the pain, the blood.

             
I stood, hands raised in surrender as the blood continued to drain down my arm. “No, I didn’t…it’s not what you think,” I stammered in defense.

             
“How is it not what I think?” Nick raged. Disappointment and fear pitched his voice. In his mind, my need to cut myself was unfathomable now. My life was changed. He was here. The need should be abated.

             
“I…she,” I continued to sputter. “The magic isn’t complete without a venous sacrifice,” I explained. “She’s tasted my blood but the purity of the blood from my veins will bond her more tightly to me. She’ll do anything I ask now.”

             
Nick crossed the room, gripped my arms and gave me a little shake. “Emari, you scared the hell out of me.”

             
I could understand why such a scene might frighten him. My past wasn’t a bright shining star of chaste behavior. There was a history here. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I should have told you what I was doing first.”
But you might not have let me do it then.

             
He petted my hair. “It’s just—the look on your face…” he shuddered as a conclusion. I pulled away and turned my face from him. He was right. I had reveled in the pain, the pop of my skin under the tip of the blade. But how could I explain that? “Emi, please. Don’t do that again. It was like….”

             
What? Like I’d plunged a knife into him?
“I won’t. Unless—unless I need to.” I knew he didn’t think there was ever that dire of a need to rupture my own veins, but if that’s what it took to make Ari powerful, it’s what I would have to do.

             
Blood dripped from the crease of my elbow. The cut had been deep, down to the vein doctors use to extract blood gases. It would continue to bleed, worse than a needle prick because of the size of the blade. Nick went to the bathroom and retrieved some cotton, gauze and tape. He patched me up without a word.

             
“Nick?” I said as we headed out the door. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

             
He pulled me against his chest. “God, Emi…” and he held me like he would never let go.

             
“I’m sorry,” I said again when his heartbeat continued to thrash against me and his arms remained a vice.

             
“Come on,” he said, and abruptly released me and clutched my hand, pulled me toward the door like we needed to evacuate the house.

             
“I’m sorry,” I repeated as we pulled into the garage at Sabre’s house and he hadn’t spoken a word.

             
He reached over and stroked my face. “It’s okay. Don’t tell me you’re sorry. Just please don’t do that again.”

             
“But…” I argued.

             
“If the magic requires blood, I understand that. Just tell me first. I’ll help you.”

             
“Okay.”
Hmph! Spoil sport!

             
Tugging me by the hand, he led me to the warmth of the house.

*          *          *

              “Tell me about her,” I asked Sabre a short time later, once we were alone up in his office. “What was she like?”

             
Fear flashed across his face as though I’d found the one thing that broke through the ancient shield he’d wrapped around himself. He sighed like the world rested on his shoulders.

             
“She was like sunshine.” He stared, unseeing, out the window. “Warm. Soft. She knew what I am and it didn’t frighten her, because her brother was like me.” In his eyes, I could see him journey to a faraway place and time. Her light danced in his pupils and his love for her struck me like a tidal wave. My own heart lunged with the intensity. “I was nearly dead when Will found me bleeding on the battlefield after the Paoli Massacre. He sensed what I was. Because he was already Caphar. But when I awoke in an unfamiliar barn, I was afraid—that maybe he was just another Tory farmer out for colonist rebel blood. And I ran.”

             
Sabre turned and paced the room. These were things he hadn’t even shared with Nick, had taken great pains to hide from him. He stopped at the window again, and stared out of the frosty pane to the crystal night beyond.

             
“Will came to look for me,” he continued. “He watched out for me from a distance. When I awoke phased one morning, I believed maybe I really was dead, but he nudged me back to Earth, explained what had happened to me. He took me back to his home, a small farm just outside Malvern, PA. I met her there and I loved her the moment I set eyes on her.

             
“Will and Sarah’s parents had died,” he explained, then cast a wary look in my direction. “A fire in the barn. They were both trapped trying to save the animals. Will nearly died as well—probably had died—since, apparently, the death of the mortal body is the catalyst for the transformation. They were sure he was dead in the remains of the barn, but after a couple of days he staggered out of the woods.” Sabre fell silent, reliving the memories he kept hidden from prying eyes. Much like Nick’s memories of Felicia and Samuel.

             
“Sarah Rose was so beautiful,” he said without prodding, as though now that the cork was out of the bottle, he may as well continue to pour. “So beautiful. Golden corn silk hair. Sky blue eyes as vast as the ocean. Her mouth as soft as a peach, and as sweet.” Sabre turned from the window and glanced at me, reluctance at telling me such personal things shadowed his brow.

             
“I’m sorry. That’s very intimate, isn’t it?” I said.

             
“Someone should know,” he said grudgingly. He closed his eyes, but I could see them darting under his lids as he beheld the images of so long ago as though they happened now. “She played coy, at first. Too grown up for her sixteen year old life.”

             
“Sixteen? That’s so young.”

             
“Times were different then. Girls were women at thirteen, often wed by fourteen. But Sarah wouldn’t leave her beloved brother, though many suitors graced her doorstep. They were all the other had.

             
“For some reason, they both loved me, took me in, taught me what I was capable of.” Sabre stood before me and trailed warm fingers down my cheek. “She was seventeen when Thomas arrived and turned our happy world upside down. He won his way into Will’s good graces, but I saw him for what he was. A liar. A manipulator. Will only saw a fellow Caphar. And Thomas had his eye set on Sarah Rose. Which meant he was bent on removing me from the picture.”

             
He returned to the window as though it held refuge, and stared out unseeing, his thoughts cloaked in silence. I melted into the burgundy leather couch and waited. “I asked her to marry me by the little creek she adored.”

             
My mind dashed in crazy directions and the words slipped out before I could rein them. “Can Caphar still have babies?”

             
Sabre came to me and knelt by my side, took my hand in his. “No worries, little girl. You and Nick shall have plenty of babies.”

             
I blushed. “I…Nick…I didn’t mean…”

             
Sabre chortled, rose and walked away. “Someday, love. He must be able to touch you, first.”

             
My blush turned crimson. “Sabre. That’s none of your business.”

             
He continued to laugh. “You do look so lovely in red,” he teased.

             
Well, it wasn’t like I hadn’t walked right into that one. But we weren’t discussing me and Nick. This was about Sabre, and Sarah Rose. I cast him a hard look and the smile slid from his face. “I often wonder what our children might be like. If they would be Caphar. If I would outlive them.” Pale and wistful, he continued, “Sometimes, still, I look in the mirror and imagine her eyes and her hair mixed with my features, imagine what our child would look like.” He shot a glance of reluctance my way, noticeably sorry he’d shared such an intimate secret with me. “When Thomas found out about the engagement, things went from bad to worse. His covert attempts to win Sarah’s affections became more overt and he did all in his power to make me look bad in Will’s eyes.

             
“You pretty much know the rest,” he said, alluding to the ‘memory leaks’ while weaving my rock star life. “You’ve seen what he did to her, how he made it look like I’d done it in a jealous rage. I’ve been looking over my shoulder ever since.”

             
I joined Sabre at the window, pressed my shoulder to his. “Do you feel better sharing this with me?” I asked.

             
He barked a quiet laugh. “No. Not really,”

             
I hugged his arm and rested my head on his shoulder.

             
Actually, I do.
His thought was clear as he caressed my hand. God forbid the almighty Sabre relent to emotional weakness.

             
He turned into me and wrapped his arms around me, released a shuddering breath I was sure was a stifled sob. One hot tear, heavy and wet, fell on my neck.

             
“Hey, Sabre, do you know…uh,” Nick stood at the door, his face bewildered at the sight of me in Sabre’s arms. His friend wasn’t the cuddly type.

             
“Hey,” I said as I released Sabre.

             
“Hey back. I was just looking for…”

             
“In the kitchen drawer by the fridge,” Sabre told him.

             
“Ya know, giving you new abilities can be so annoying. The least you could do is allow me the courtesy of finishing my question.”

             
I stared between the two of them. Sabre smirked at Nick. “Since when have you known me to be courteous?” he asked.

             
Something warred on Nick’s face but he pushed it away and shot a questioning glance at me. I nodded and flashed him a meaningful smile and that seemed to defuse him.

             
“Can you give us a minute?” I asked.

             
“Um…sure thing. I’ll just—go back to what I was doing. I’ll be in the kitchen,” Nick stammered.

             
“Thank you,” I said as he backed out the door and shut it behind him.

             
“May I show this to Nick?” I asked, once we were alone again. I smiled inwardly as I heard the formality in my words. Perhaps the boys were rubbing off on me, like when you go somewhere with a different dialect and slip into the accent of the region.

             
“May as well,” he said as though there were no other choice.

             
“It’s your choice, Sabre. Your innermost memories are your own. I won’t defy your desire to keep them private.”

             
“No. It’s fine. It’s probably about time he knew the truth anyway. I’ve kept it from him for over ninety years. He should probably know why there are Rephaim out for his blood.”