Читать книгу Destined - Aprilynne Pike - Страница 6

Laurel followed Yuki’s eyes to Shar, who stood as still as a statue, his face betraying nothing.

It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. Not Shar, who had been her unseen guardian since she first left Avalon.

So why isn’t he denying it?

“Tell her,” Yuki said, straining against her chair. “Tell her what you did to her mother.”

Shar’s mouth stayed closed.

“Shar,” Laurel begged quietly. She wanted to hear him say it wasn’t true. Needed him to say it. “Please.”

“It was necessary,” Shar replied at last. “We didn’t choose them. They just lived there. The plan had to work, Laurel. We had no choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” Laurel whispered, her mouth suddenly dry, her chin quivering with anger. Shar had poisoned her mother. Shar, who had been watching over her even longer than Tamani, had poisoned her mother.

“I have a home and family to protect. And I will do whatever it takes to keep Avalon safe.”

Laurel bristled. “You didn’t have to—”

“Yes, I did,” Shar said. “I have to do a lot of things I don’t want to do, Laurel. Do you think I wanted to sabotage your human parents? Wanted to make you forget? I do as I’m told. It’s why I watched you every day, before Tamani came along. Why I know everything there is to know about you. The heirloom bowl you broke and lied about. The dog you buried outside your window, because you couldn’t bear to have him further away. The time you spent with Tamani, out at the cabin in October.”

“Shar,” Tamani said, his voice a clear warning.

“I gave you what space I could,” Shar said quietly, his voice at last holding a hint of remorse. But the tiny apology was clearly extended to Tamani, not to Laurel; the sudden urge to stride across the room and slap Shar across the face was stifled only by her paralysing rage.

Yuki’s smile faded. “This is the force you’ve allied with, Laurel? I may not have always been truthful with you, but even I thought you were better than these monsters.” She looked down at the salt encircling her chair. “A little swish of your foot and I can put a stop to this. I’ll take you with me and show you how wrong Avalon is. And you can help me make it right.”

Laurel stared at the salt. Part of her wanted to do it, just to lash out at Shar. “How do you know about Avalon?”

“Does it matter?” Yuki asked, her face unreadable.

“Maybe.”

“Set me free. I’ll give you the answers they’ve been keeping from you.”

“Don’t do it, Laurel,” Tamani said softly. “I don’t like it either, but letting her go doesn’t make anything better.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Laurel snapped, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the white circle at her feet.

Tamani drew back, silent.

Laurel wanted to kick the circle – she did. It was an irrational urge, one she knew she’d never act on, but hot tears pooled in her eyes as the desire burned in her throat.

“Laurel.” A soft hand touched her arm, pulling her back to reality. She turned to a white-faced Chelsea. “Come with me. We’ll talk it over, take a drive, whatever you need to cool down.”

Laurel stared at her friend, focusing on the one person in the room who had never hurt her, never wronged her. She nodded, not looking at anyone else. “Let’s go,” she said. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Once they were outside, Chelsea closed the door then stopped. “Damn it,” she cursed softly. “I put my keys down somewhere. Stupid dress with no pockets,” she muttered, gathering the hem so she wouldn’t trip on it. “I’ll be right back.”

She turned and the door opened before she could touch the knob.

“Keys,” Chelsea explained as she pushed past Tamani.

He pulled the door shut, leaving the two of them alone on the porch. She fixed her gaze on the stairwell, suddenly unwilling to look at him.

But then, he wasn’t meeting her eyes, either.

“I didn’t know,” Tamani whispered after a long pause. “I promise.”

“I know,” Laurel whispered. She put her back against the wall and slid down to the ground, hugging her knees. Her voice was flat even to her own ears. “My mom was an only child. Her dad left when she was a baby. It was just her and her mom. And then Grandma died too. Mom always wanted a big family. Five kids, she told me one day. She wanted five kids. But it never happened.”

She didn’t know why she was telling him this, but talking made her feel better somehow, so she kept going.

“They went to a ton of doctors and no one could figure out what was wrong. None of them. That basically cemented her mistrust of doctors. It also wiped out their savings for a long time. And it doesn’t even matter, because Mom would have kept me even if she had other kids,” Laurel said firmly. “I know she would have. Shar didn’t have to do it at all.”

She was silent for a while. “You know what really makes me mad?”

Tamani had the grace to shake his head silently.

“I have a secret now. I tell them everything. Everything. It hasn’t been easy, but being open and honest has been the most wonderful part of my life the past year or so. Now, I have this – this thing that I can’t tell them ever, because they would never look at me or faeries the same way.” Her anger flared, white hot. “And I hate him for that,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Tamani said. “I know how much they mean to you and . . . and I’m sorry they got hurt.”

“Thank you,” Laurel said.

Tamani looked down at his hands, an emotion sketched across his face that Laurel couldn’t quite decipher. “I resent that I didn’t know,” he finally said. “There’s so much I don’t know. And I don’t think Yuki is going to tell us anything. Half of what she says contradicts the other half. I thought maybe, once we had her trapped, we’d finally get the answers we’ve been looking for, but . . . if something doesn’t happen soon . . . I’m not sure what Shar will do.”

“Shar . . .” What was it he’d told her? I will do whatever it takes to keep Avalon safe. ’He won’t hurt her, will he? To get more information?”

“He can’t. Even if he were so inclined, he can’t enter the circle.”

“There are things he could do without entering the circle,” Laurel said. “He could—”

“I won’t let him,” Tamani countered firmly. “I promise. I’ll watch out for her. Lies or not, she was my friend. Maybe she still is, I don’t know. Besides, even Shar wouldn’t risk the penalties he would face for . . . for torturing a Winter faerie.”

Laurel wasn’t sure she believed that.

“He’s not a monster,” Tamani continued. “He does what has to be done, but that doesn’t mean he likes it. I understand you can’t trust him right now, but please try to trust me.”

Laurel nodded glumly. Like she had a choice?

“Thank you,” he said.

“Can it really hold her, Tam? The circle?”

He was silent for a moment. “I think so.”

“It’s just salt,” Laurel said quietly. “You were with me in the Winter Palace; you felt the power in those upper rooms. Containing that kind of magic with something that’s currently sitting on my dining-room table doesn’t seem possible.”

“She walked into it of her own accord. Shar says that’s where the power comes from.” His eyelashes rose and his pale green eyes met hers. “Never underestimate the power of a situation you put yourself into.”

She knew he was talking about more than just the salt circle.

After a moment of hesitation Tamani joined her on the ground, settling a comforting arm over her shoulders.

“I’m sorry for everything,” he whispered, words weighted with regret. She turned her face and leaned in, wanting to lose herself in him, to forget everything else, just for a moment. Tamani exhaled shakily and brought his face close to hers. Laurel lifted her hand to his cheek and drew him forward the rest of the way. Their lips had scarcely touched when the door opened and Chelsea stormed out, keys jangling in her hand.

“Shar had them the whole time,” she complained loudly. “He stood there and watched me look all over for them and then—” Her eyes zeroed in on Tamani’s arm around Laurel’s shoulders. “Oh, duh,” Chelsea said, clearly realising Shar’s intent now. Then, softly, she added, “Sorry.”

Laurel rolled down her window, letting the wind caress her face as Chelsea drove through the empty, darkened streets. For nearly half an hour Chelsea said nothing further about their short bout in the apartment or her ill-timed appearance, and Laurel appreciated the effort her friend must have put into keeping quiet. Silence certainly did not come naturally to Chelsea. She was probably dying to rehash their visit with Yuki, but all Laurel wanted to do was force it to the back of her mind and pretend it had never happened.

“Hey, is that . . .”

Chelsea was already pulling over when Laurel realised that the tall guy walking down the side of the road, silhouetted by the streetlight, was David. His eyes were wary as the headlights flashed across them, but recognition – and relief – dawned as Chelsea pulled her mother’s car alongside him.

“Where were you?” Chelsea demanded when David crouched to peer through the passenger window. “I drove all over the place.”

David studied the ground. “I stayed out of sight,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to be found.”

Chelsea glanced over her shoulder in the direction he had been walking. Towards the apartment. “Where are you going?”

“Back,” David growled. “To make things right.”

“She’s doing OK,” Chelsea said, her eyes serious.

“But I put her in there.”

“She’s figured the circle out,” Chelsea insisted. “It’s not like it was. She’s not hurting herself anymore. She just sits there. Well, sits and talks,” she added.

But David was shaking his head. “I’ve been running away from my part in this and I’m done. I’m going back to make sure everything stays humane. Or, you know, whatever the plant equivalent is.”

“Tamani said he would make sure she was safe,” Laurel said.

“But his – and Shar’s – definition of safe may not quite match up with mine. Ours.” He looked between them. “We put her there. All of us. And I still think it was the right decision, but if it wasn’t . . . I don’t want to stand by and let it get worse.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Laurel asked, not willing to admit that she didn’t want to go back either.

“Maybe we can take shifts. One of us, one of them,” David said.

Chelsea rolled her eyes.

“Someone would have to stay all night,” Laurel said. “Which my parents would probably let me do, but—”

“Staying up all night isn’t really your thing,” David said, voicing Laurel’s concern.

“I can text my mom,” Chelsea offered. “I told her I’d probably spend the night at your house anyway – makes total sense after a big dance. And she never checks up on me.”

Laurel and Chelsea both turned to look at David. “I’ll think of something,” he mumbled. “What about Ryan?”

“What about him?” Chelsea asked, finding something interesting to examine on the steering wheel.

“He’s going to wonder why you keep running off at strange hours. You can’t always use Laurel as an excuse.”

“I don’t think he’ll notice,” Chelsea said.

“You can’t just assume that,” David retorted. “Don’t underestimate him. You always underestimate him.”

“I do not!”

“Well, he’s going to notice something if you suddenly start being “busy” all the time. And he’s going to want to spend time with you over the break. Especially after you ditched him almost every day last week to study for finals,” David said.

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Chelsea said ruefully, leaning back against her seat and meeting his eyes at last.

David just shook his head. “I don’t understand you. You were so worried about him when Yuki or Klea or whoever slipped him that memory elixir and now it’s like you don’t care at all.” He kicked the dirt at his feet. “Why don’t you just break up with him?”

“I did,” Chelsea said quietly.

David’s eyes darted from Chelsea to Laurel and back again. “You what?”

“How else was I supposed to justify running off in the middle of the dance . . . with you,” she added in a mumble.

“I was kidding!”

“I wasn’t. I was going to do it anyway.”

David looked to Laurel. “Did you know about this?”

Laurel glanced at Chelsea before nodding.

“Why?” David asked. “What went wrong?”

Chelsea opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

“It was just time,” Laurel said, coming to the rescue. This wasn’t something anyone needed to talk about yet. Certainly not right now.

David shrugged, his face a mask of nonchalance. “Whatever. We’ve got to get back there. It’s going to be a long night.”