Let The Wind Rise (Sky Fall, #3)(62)

“No, it’s nothing like . . .” Probably better not to mention Gus.

There are only five cuts, and they’re not as deep as I’d feared.

But . . . they’re very specific.

“I know the cuts are a mark,” Audra says. “You don’t have to be afraid to tell me. What did he carve?”

I sigh and dab the three cuts on her right shoulder. “Right here, he carved a W. I’m guessing he wanted to mark you as a Westerly.”

She nods. “I suppose that’s fitting.” Her fingers tease the breeze still sliding over her skin. “It was my shield that triggered my breakthrough, if you’re wondering,” she whispers. “I didn’t even know what was happening at first. I thought I needed you there. But apparently not.”

I’m guessing she doesn’t mean the words to feel like a windslicer jab to my gut, but . . . they have that effect anyway.

“What else?” she asks, and it takes me a second to realize she’s gone back to wondering about her cuts.

I move to her left shoulder and dab the long, curved gash. “He carved his storm cloud over here. I’m guessing that was to brand you as his.”

Her hands curl into fists.

Mine are doing the same thing, wringing the red-stained water out of the paper towel I’m holding.

“And the last one?” she asks.

My fingers move to her lower back. “This one’s just a jagged line. But it’s the deepest. I think he wanted to hurt you.”

“Probably,” she mumbles. “But I still got off easy.”

“This isn’t easy.” My hands are shaking so hard, I nearly drop the paper towels.

I don’t want to ask my next question, but it has to be done. “Did he . . . I mean . . . are there any other wounds I should check? Or . . . did he . . .”

Nope. I can’t say it.

“There’s nothing else,” she says, focusing on the floor.

I turn away, so she won’t see the tears I’m blinking back. And that’s when I notice we’re not alone.

The blazer guy stands in the doorway holding two plastic first aid kits and a stack of clothing in his shaky hands.

His eyes are focused on the cuts on Audra’s back. “What happened to you guys?” he whispers. “Is it something we need to be prepared for?”

I’m guessing he’s imagining, like, serial killers or something.

If only it were that easy.

I could tell him the whole complicated truth. But I don’t have the time or the energy to make him believe me.

Plus, his question made me realize something way more important.

There are hundreds of people trapped in this hotel—and we’re putting all of them in danger just by being here.

“We’ll leave as soon as we’re done cleaning up,” I tell him as Solana takes the supplies. “And once we’re gone, you need to bar the doors. Don’t let anyone go outside.”

“Why? What’s out there?”

“Just stay out of the wind. And when the storm clears in a few hours, get everyone out of here.”

“There’s no way it’ll clear up that soon,” he argues.

But he’s wrong.

It will.

I’m going to lure Raiden away from this mountain.

And then, I’m going to end this.





CHAPTER 38


AUDRA


The groundling’s clothes feel strange against my skin.

Everything feels strange.

Especially when I check my reflection.

I look . . . normal.

A bit banged up, and definitely exhausted.

But still me, even in the tight groundling clothes.

If only I could feel like me.

I try to braid my hair, but lifting my arms pulls at the wounds on my back.

“Need help?” Solana offers.

I shake my head.

It’s not important.

I’m not really a guardian anymore.

I’m not sure what I am.

“Is it okay if I come in?” Vane calls through the door, and I feel my lips curl with half a smile.

He left us alone to get dressed in privacy, without our even asking.

“Yep, we’re all covered,” Solana says, fussing with the sleeves of her pale green coat.

Between that and the pants, it’s the most clothing I’ve ever seen her wear. And it makes my eyes linger on her face, which has such soft, sweet features it’s hard not to— My thought drops away when Vane shuffles into the room.

He’s changed into dark pants and a shirt that doesn’t really count as a shirt at the moment, since he’s only managed to pull on a portion of one sleeve. The rest of the blue fabric is tangled and bunched between his neck and the thick bandage on his elbow, leaving his chest and stomach exposed and . . .

Wow.

“Can I get a little help here?” he asks.

I’m wondering how many sit-ups he’s been doing when Solana says, “I think I’ll let Audra handle this one.”

She smiles as she says it, but I hear the tight edge to her voice.

It makes me glance at Vane, wondering if he’s wishing she’d volunteered. It’s a crazy doubt, I know—but I can’t help feeling it.

Redness colors Vane’s cheeks, and he shrugs his free arm. But it’s the intensity of his eyes that makes my heart leap into my throat.