The Dark Calling (The Arcana Chronicles #5)(99)

Jack stood in the doorway, a box of supplies in his hands. His troubled gaze took in the scene.

I drew back with guilt. “Tee kicked. Hard.” After all those nights Jack had patiently waited to feel that . . .

Where’s your head at, Evie?

“Good, good.” Before Jack schooled his expression, I saw his disappointment. He wordlessly began unloading food in the small kitchenette.

I hurried to join his side. “Let me help you.”

He shook off some of his unease, even managing a smile for me. “You sure? Two cooks, and all that?”

“Over the last few weeks, I’ve become really proficient at cooking pasta.”

In a dry tone, he said, “No, bébé, you really haven’t.”

I slapped his chest. “Dick.”

Aric avidly watched this interplay, then excused himself. While Jack and I prepared the meal, he changed from his armor to clothes he’d had in his saddlebags. Customary gloves, of course.

In front of the crackling fire, we three ate in silence. As soon as the warm food hit my stomach, exhaustion set in again. Nagging doubts about tomorrow surfaced. Would I be strong enough to do what needed to be done?

Aric studied my face, reading me so easily. “You should rest a couple of days before this battle. Discretion is the better part of valor.”

“I’ll be on edge until Paul’s dead.” I rubbed my nape. “And we’re closer to the sphere than I’d like to be. I bet you can see it from atop the satellite dish.”

“You would be able to, yes. But we’ve dozens of miles between us and it.”

Jack asked me, “You got a plan for tomorrow?”

“Sure. Smash and grab.”

Aric pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’m kidding.” Not at all. “Tell us the lay of the land, Aric. What do I need to know?”

“Lark normally sleeps during what passes for day, so an early incursion would be advisable. As soon as you cross the boundary, the Archangel will likely trail you in. If we are lucky, he’ll escort you to Paul, instead of exacting his own revenge for past games.”

Jack shook his head. “Too big a risk.”

“Sievā, if Jack accompanied you with his rifle—”

“He stays. I can’t watch him die again. And I can’t watch him put a bullet in our friends to protect me.” I asked Jack, “Would you shoot Lark if I was in trouble?”

He exhaled, but said, “Sans doute.” Without a doubt.

“Then I go alone. Once I’m inside, I’ll knock everyone out with spores, then strangle Paul with the noose while he’s asleep.” I sounded confident, though spores could be tricky.

Aric said, “Over the last year, you’ve asked things of me that I didn’t feel capable of. Taking off your cilice. Trusting you not to strike against me. Letting you go. But now you’re asking me to endorse your plan to challenge a trio of Arcana—when you’re more than four months pregnant with our son. And no matter what happens at the castle, I will not be able to assist you.”

“I know it’s a big ask. But you’ll just have to trust me.” Softening my tone, I pointed out, “You didn’t trust me about Paul, and look what happened.”

“If you tell me you feel one hundred percent confident that you can prevail tomorrow, then I will believe you.”

“I feel one hundred percent confident that we have no choice. If you come up with a better plan, I’ll listen. But otherwise, my mind is made up . . . .”

After dinner, Jack started gearing up for the cold. “Goan to check out that sphere.” He seemed as uncomfortable around it as I was.

“If I fall asleep, will you make sure it doesn’t sneak too close tonight?”

He grabbed his bow. “On it. In the meantime, maybe the Reaper can talk some sense into you.” They shared a look before Jack left.

I rose and went to the window. As I watched him head out into the wintry landscape, I thought of the little bug-out bag Jack had painstakingly put together for Tee. Damn it, he should’ve been the first to feel a kick. Instead, he’d witnessed a moment between me and Aric.

In the letter Jack had left for me before the massacre, he’d written: You and Death have something that I don’t understand, and I’ve got to start trying to get over you. To pull your thorn from my skin.

Seeing hints of the shaky tie between me and Aric emerging again must be killing him.

He probably sensed my gaze, but he didn’t glance back. Was Jack even now trying to pull my thorn from his skin?

Did it pain him? Was he bleeding inside? He didn’t understand; we could be separated, but I’d never release my hold on him. Only fair, since I would never get over him.

Like me, Jack Deveaux would bleed for life.

“How are you feeling?” Aric asked hesitantly. He must be recalling how badly our conversation had gone in the cave.

I turned to him, not yet ready to be alone with him. That earlier moment between us had slipped up on me so totally, but now I was on edge. “I’m okay, I guess.”

“You don’t have to do this tomorrow.”

“Agree to disagree.” I didn’t want to hurt him anymore, but I couldn’t just magically forget all I’d been through. It would take time. “I probably need to rest.” I grabbed my bag and headed to the back room.