Rising Darkness (Game of Shadows #1)(64)

Anger vibrated through her. “I have seen it happen.”

“I’m sure you have,” he said, regarding her with weariness.

“You of all people should know why I do the things I do!”

“Should I?” His voice turned hard. “There’s a huge difference between someone who refuses to be controlled by you, and someone who’s been corrupted by the Deceiver. I know you’ve always been freaked out that you can’t get inside my head. You think I’m not aware of how often you’ve wondered whether or not I might be too great a risk for you to handle? Get the f**k over it, Astra.”

“You forget your place,” she hissed. “How dare you speak that way TO ME.”

“I haven’t forgotten anything. My sense of autonomy doesn’t mean I’ve been corrupted, and I don’t want to play this game right now. Be straightforward for once in your life—if you can—or I swear Mary and I might just walk away, because I’ve earned better from you over the years, and I’ve had it.”

Silence fell. Underneath the illusion of imagery, her energy roiled with anger. He remained as still and obdurate as stone.

Finally her energy calmed, and she approached to sit at the table near his right hand. She asked, “I could sense when Mary stopped bleeding in the psychic realm. You don’t have the skill to heal something like that, and she couldn’t have healed herself. That wound was too severe. I want to know who healed her, and what happened to her.”

He drew on his reserves of patience. “She summoned one of the Eastern dragons. It was a very old, powerful one. It remembered her from a former life and looked on her kindly.”

Quick suspicion chilled her features. “She knew to call a dragon?”

He pinched his nose. “Mary is not faking. She’s not twisted, and she’s not controlled by anyone either. Once I found her, I haven’t left her alone for any discernable length of time. I watched when the dragon breathed fire on her. It burned her clean.” He paused then added slowly, “It was quite a miraculous sight, and I don’t say that lightly, because I’ve seen a hell of a lot.”

“Why have you stopped moving? You know he’s going to redouble his efforts to find you.”

He had to quell another upsurge of irritation. He told her what Mary had said earlier. “We made the best decision we could under the circumstances. We’ve had a complicated, dangerous and exhausting couple of days. Mary was attacked by two of his drones, and we’ve both had traumatic memories surface. Yes, stopping is a calculated risk, but it’s a necessary one, and I’ve taken every precaution.”

She searched his expression. “You’re sure?”

He knew that the closer they came to confronting their old enemy, the more paranoid she had to feel about the possibility of being deceived, but he thought she was beginning to be mollified and reassured. He replied, “Of course I’m sure. You know as well as I do that there are no guarantees, but I’ve set sentinels in place. If he gets close, we’ll be warned.”

“I don’t like it,” she muttered, her delicate brows drawing into a frown. She spread her hands on the table, running her fingers along the scars on its surface.

“You don’t have to like it,” he said, crossing his arms and propping his feet on the edge of the table. “You just have to live with it.”

Her mouth tightened briefly. “At least she’s healed—she’s really healed, and she knows who she is? That is so much more than we dared to hope.”

He smiled. It creased his lean face and lit up his eyes, an expression proud and savage at once. In a soft voice, like velvet sheathing steel, he agreed, “Yes, it is.”

Her glance lifted to his face and lingered on the smile as if it were a strange sight. “You said you both recovered traumatic memories. Do you know what happened to her, and how she got wounded? Were you there?”

The smile vanished, leaving only the savagery. “Yes.”

Her gaze dropped to her hands. After a moment, she said, “I see. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what—that you couldn’t help me remember? Don’t be,” he told her. “We didn’t recover anything of that lifetime because I couldn’t stand to remember. Now I know, and I needed to know. But I also wish I didn’t.”

She took a deep breath. “What happened?”

“I’m not going to talk about it,” he said. “I can’t speak for Mary, so you’d have to ask her what she’s willing to discuss. But my experience isn’t relevant to the present. That’s all you need to know.”

She nodded and stood. The illusion of the young woman wavered and grew thin. “I will see what I can do pinpoint his location,” she said. “Don’t take too long to rest.”

He said, “We will see you soon.”

“Creator willing.” She faded.

He did not echo the sentiment. He doubted there was a God, but if there was, Michael had no use for him.

He had no reason to linger after Astra left but he did anyway. He let his gaze roam over the scene. The only items that were anachronistic to the great hall were the suits of armor on display. At one time or another he had worn each one. He had added them to the hall image over the years, as he had recovered memories of different lifetimes throughout the ages.