Fire and Bone (Otherborn #1)(94)

She’s a few feet away, cautious. “I’m tired of being afraid of everything,” she says, her voice wavering. “My whole life, I’ve always thought I was so tough, but really I’m a coward. I only look for an out, a way to escape. I never face anything.” Her eyes glisten in the sunlight. “I need to face this.”

I want to shake her. She’s so far from a coward, she has no idea.

“Don’t be angry with me,” she says.

“I’m not sure I can watch you fall, Sage,” I whisper, my voice nearly breaking.

She blinks.

I step closer, reaching out to brush a copper strand of hair from her eyes. “I care about you.” I let the words sink in, into me, into her. And then I say, “Whatever you choose, promise me you’ll be careful.”

She nods, tears filling her eyes.

I turn away and shut myself in my cottage.





THIRTY-EIGHT

SAGE

My mind races back and forth, back and forth, trying to figure out what happened when Aelia was doing that spell. As soon as she started speaking in the strange language, I couldn’t get out of that circle fast enough.

Okay, if I’m being honest with myself, from the second Marius handed me the scroll, I felt odd about the spell. Still, it was the right thing, the safest thing. And I wanted to be free of it.

I did.

But now . . . out of nowhere . . . I’m unsure about pushing these memories away. I think something shifted inside me last night when I held that glass owl. I want to understand what it is.

Which terrifies me. Because what if Faelan’s right? What if I really am being tricked?

We still don’t know who put these memories inside me, or why. What if it was Kieran? What if it’s supposed to make me choose something that could destroy me?

That doesn’t feel true, though.

All I have to go on right now is my gut. And for the first time in my life, I don’t want to run away. To me, that means something. And if I’m going to chase this down, I just need to go for it. No more hiding. From now on, I walk into the fire—literally—I don’t back away from it.

Which means that, as much as it pains me, I need to go to that dumb party of Kieran’s tonight. If I’m not going to leave this place, then I need to find out where I belong.

I leave my cottage and find Aelia in her room. I plop down on her bed, hug one of her narcissistic pillows, and ask if she can help me find something to wear. You’d think I asked her to be my wedding planner for my marriage to Channing Tatum or something, with all the clapping and squealing that bursts forth.

She drags me into her closet and starts flinging dresses around. “You can’t fall back on your baggy-shirt-grunge-girl theme tonight,” she says. “This is serious if you want to make Kieran sweat.”

“I don’t want to make Kieran do anything,” I say. Except maybe leave me alone.

“Oh, come on, the game is half the fun.” She pulls out a dress made of nothing and, fortunately, tosses it aside. “You make him think he has a chance so that when you crush him and choose the House of Brighid, it’s that much more yummy.”

“I don’t play games, Aelia. I just want to learn as much as I can about this world.”

“Oh, honey.” She clucks her tongue. “Lesson one: this world is all about the games.”

No kidding. I’m not up for it yet, though. “Well, for tonight I’m only going to observe the lunacy.”

She snorts out a laugh. “You know this party is for you, right?”

“What?”

“Kieran is throwing this little soiree for you, girl.” She tosses a dress at me and I catch it.

I don’t bother to see what it looks like. I’m now second-guessing everything, my determination flittering away. “No, no, no.”

“Yes, yes, yes.” She tosses shoes at my feet: bright red heels.

I think I’m going to throw up. “Oh, God.”

“You better get used to it. You’re a hot commodity.”

I groan.

“Don’t worry, you’re going to kill it.” She goes to a drawer and pulls out a long strand of glittering diamonds. “They won’t know what hit ’em.”



Within an hour, the three of us are in the back of a limo. Faelan barely looks at me as we make our way to Kieran’s house in the hills. Apparently, this is just one of his California houses.

Faelan’s expression darkens as Aelia goes on about how many properties Kieran and his sister own all over the world. This morning, Faelan acted like he wanted me to come to this thing, but I can tell he’s still angry about this afternoon—angry about anything to do with Kieran. And I don’t blame him. I don’t care how many houses Kieran has, he’s still . . . Kieran.

When we arrive, a valet opens the limo door. I try to get Faelan’s attention before we go inside, but Aelia hooks her arm in mine and pulls me away, heading for the sprawling house. Well, more like mansion.

It’s absolutely stunning. Tall lamps light the yard, casting flickering shadows as the sun disappears into the hills behind us. A cobblestone walkway weaves through mossy ground cover, leading to the entrance, all framed with a rose-covered trellis.

The house itself is a stone beast with ivy climbing up the face and sleeping morning glories trailing along the edges. The only hints that we didn’t step from the limo into the nineteenth century are the two large bouncers flanking the huge oak door.