The Dark Calling (The Arcana Chronicles #5)(37)

Aric said, “Your stint out in the Ash has taken a toll on you, Empress. You’re not making sense.”

“Not just the Ash. Against all odds, I’m still pregnant.” Dizziness was my new companion; sleep was all I wanted to do. “I can’t go on much longer.”

Late last night as I’d tossed and turned in my sleeping bag, Kentarch had murmured, “Enough is enough.” He’d sat beside me and unsheathed his knife. I’d felt a flare of fear until he’d rolled up his sleeve.

“You must have nourishment.” He raised the blade above his forearm. “Come, Empress, you are supposed to be bloodthirsty.”

“Uh-uh,” I said weakly. “Maybe this is the gateway drug to cannibalism. I don’t want to be a cannibal.” I’d only throw it up anyway. The thought of vomiting warm blood made me retch.

“My people would often drink the blood of cattle. And the Maasai were no cannibals.”

I told him, “You need it.” Kentarch’s enviable cheekbones had taken on a grotesque cast.

“If she doesn’t want it”—Joules looked sunken-eyed and skeletal himself—“I’ll toss my hat in the ring.”

Now I told Aric, “You promised me you wouldn’t stop until I was yours forever. That you wouldn’t ever rest. I am yours. But you’re throwing me away. Us away.” Tears spilled. “Take me back, and use the cilice to control my abilities until our kid is born. Then kill me if you still want to.”

“Ah, the cilice.” His tone held a grin. “I found it down in the rubble of the nursery after our battle with Ogen, with your flesh still attached to it.”

I’d forced Lark to carve it off me so I could fight. At the memory of that pain, I heaved, but had nothing in my belly to throw up.

“If you only knew the story behind it . . . . Come to my castle, and we will discuss your proposition.”

“I can’t get th-there!” I scarcely recognized my defeated voice. Hunger was reversing my personality. These days, my emotions barreled back and forth between weepiness and seething anger.

I felt like a drunk ex, sobbing in one breath to get back together and railing in the next. Come pick me up at the bar I hate you.

“Are you crying?” he asked with a laugh. “By all the gods, your tears cheer me. Of course, they’ll dry as soon as you hang up the phone. You always were a talented deceiver.”

“Aric, Es tevi mīlu. I love you.” He’d said I kept his soul within me, right next to mine.

“The sentiment is no longer returned.”

“Do you want me to beg?” The red witch would never beg; she still seemed to be enjoying her nap.

“Yes, Empress. I would like that very much. Beg me, and I’ll consider the cilice.”

Biting back my pride, I parted my lips to say—

“Oi, bait, c’mere!” Joules called from the cave entrance. “You’re on deck. We’ve got a live one, so leg it down to the road.”

Was I relieved to be interrupted or pissed? Both.

Aric said, “You’re in a cave, near a road. Not even out of the foothills yet? I’ll be sure to direct Fauna’s most vicious predators to your vicinity.”

“Whatever, Death.” My emotions catapulted to the seething anger side of the drunk-ex spectrum. “You could have had everything you’ve ever wanted. But you’re letting your fucking cook control you. Remember that.” I disconnected the call and pocketed the phone in my coat just before Joules came into view.

“Were you talking to the Reaper?” His skin sparked with irritation.

“Moment of weakness. Won’t happen again.”

“How come you can call him, but I can’t talk to Gabe?” Joules probably missed him as much as I missed Aric. Or, rather, the old Aric.

“Because you have a temper that Gabriel will know how to needle. He could get you to spill our plans.” Such as they were: find Circe before we starved.

“I don’t have a bloody feckin’ temper!” Our gazes darted as his voice echoed off the cave walls. Lowering his tone, he said, “Just come on with you. Tarch heard an engine a ways down the road. I got a good feeling about this one.”

I rose, then reeled on my feet. Joules grabbed my arm and squired me out of the cave.

Not far in the distance stretched the lightning-lit road. Tendrils of fog floated a dozen or so feet above the pavement. Kentarch already lay in wait behind the truck, his knife ready. He took one look at me and said, “You should have drunk the blood.”

I nearly stumbled when Joules released me to hide.

“For feck’s sake, this’ll only work if you can stand up straight. Otherwise they’ll think you’ve got the plague.” He himself leaned on his javelin as if it were a walking stick.

Kentarch said, “Mentally will yourself to remain upright for five more minutes. Remember: Your mind has dominion over your body.”

I flipped him off. Sometimes I wanted to strangle Tarch too.

I blundered out onto the road. As I waited, I replayed my call with Aric. Back in the golden days of our relationship, that bastard had said we should communicate. Maybe he should have divulged that he was carrying some mega-baggage from our past!

Instead, he’d told me he was a planet off axis. Apparently he’d found his two-thousand-year-old groove again and was spinning right along.