Exalted Page 11
“Liar,” Cayne hissed.
“I don’t think so. Something he said made me think that my mom…maybe she knew how things would turn out for me. Maybe that’s why she…she didn’t want kids.”
Cayne leaned down to kiss her temple. “There’s no way she didn’t want you.”
Julia nodded, though she didn’t necessarily agree.
“I want you,” Cayne murmured. His hand danced over the wound still healing on the left side of her head. “Julia, listen to me: I'm going to take care of you. I swear it.”
She opened her mouth, but instead of saying “thank you,” she shrugged, and the tears started flowing again. “I missed you,” she said pitifully.
“I know.” He caressed the back of her head, fingers skating through her hair. “I missed you, too. Some of the time, I could see and…” He kissed her cheek, her nose, her neck, and pulled her so close she could feel every inch of him. “I saw you fighting back. I wished I could have helped you. It nearly killed me, seeing that. But you were amazing.”
Julia shook her head. “He was winning.”
“No,” Cayne shook his head. “He could never.”
She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Finally she made herself look back up at him. “Did The Adversary give you a link to his energy? Is that why you glowed earlier?”
“It is,” he confirmed quietly.
Her stomach dropped. “That’s what Methuselah was doing to me.”
“Doesn’t make much sense,” Cayne muttered.
“No, it does. I saw the plan. Somehow we’re supposed to, I don’t know, mix their powers together or something. That’s how they plan to take down the barrier—the net. They're using us so they won't be hurt themselves, like when our powers...I dunno...collide or whatever.”
Cayne scowled. “Maybe that's their plan, but it's not happening. I’m going to take care of Methuselah. The Adversary's not much of a threat here on Earth.”
"Are you sure?"
He kissed her lips. "Yes." He kissed them again, and then her chin, and then her neck, and with his strong arms around her, Julia felt warm and safe.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you,” he rasped. He stroked the bare skin of her hip, and Julia’s knees felt weak.
To her surprise, Cayne swooped her up, pushed a chair she hadn’t even noticed underneath the door handle, and laid her on the cot.
“I have a magic mouth,” he said, stroking down her leg, rubbing her foot. “It heals everything it touches.”
He lowered himself over her, and Julia shut her eyes as he pressed his lips over her heart.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hours later, they lay facing each other on the narrow cot, arms around each other, legs tangled.
Julia felt so peaceful, it was disorienting. Cayne was actually smiling, a tight, self-satisfied kind of smile, as he stroked her long, dark hair onto the pillow.
“My Julia.” He kissed her lips, then propped his cheek in his big hand and looked down on her. “You’re so strong. So beautiful. And you’re mine.” He looked into her eyes, and his green ones looked a shade too serious. “Whatever happens.”
“As long as you keep doing this,” she said naughtily, wiggling her eyebrows.
He kissed her on the lips again, and Julia felt her blood run lava hot. It was a strange sensation, after so much pain, to feel such pleasure.
“I mean it,” he said huskily.
“I mean it, too.”
He looked down at the sheets, and Julia leaned up to kiss his cheek.
Light from the window cast an orange glow over them, and Julia took a deep, cleansing breath. She was tired—so tired. And she felt so amazing, lying with Cayne, she hated to break the spell.
But they needed to talk. They needed to compare notes and figure things out, because something wasn’t right. She hated to think it, but she felt it. Why had Edan taken them to Hell? How exactly had Cayne managed to get them out? Would The Adversary really not have known that was possible? Were Methuselah and The Adversary really working together? There were a thousand things they didn't know.
Just as she opened her mouth to work on fixing that, Cayne pulled her close, squeezing her just the right way, and she decided it could wait a little while longer.
***
She knew he was gone before she opened her eyes. It was cold in the room, and she was shivering. Shivering reminded her of being at the bottom of the pyramid, and that horrible, familiar, hazy, trauma feeling clouded her brain.
She pushed herself up on one elbow, wincing at the sudden too-full-of-Celestial-energy pain in her head, shoulders, and chest, and climbed out of the bed, trying and failing to remember Cayne leaving the room.
She found a sheet of paper just inside her door, a Ft. William Hostel emblem printed at the top. Room 107 was written beneath it, in what she thought might be Meredith's handwriting.
“Cayne?” Julia tried, even though there was no point. The room was tiny, hardly any bigger than a closet. She quickly donned her bathing suit and wrapped a sheet around herself, then cracked open the wide, cedar door and poked her head out into an empty hall with worn blue carpet and wood-paneled walls. She tip-toed three doors down, her frantic heartbeat making her head ache worse, the way it always did when she got too emotional; Methuselah's power wanted out.
Julia bit her lip as she knocked on the wood door of her friends' room, hoping against hope that Cayne was in there.
Mer appeared in seconds, her glossy, black hair falling around her shoulders like it had just been brushed; she was wearing a white hostel t-shirt and navy sweatpants, and as soon as she saw Julia, she ducked back into the room and re-emerged holding out some clothes.
“Jeans are from the lost and found, but they looked your size-ish. Long-sleeved t-shirt because it's a small, and I really don't think I can get into one of those.” She pulled on her own t-shirt, which must have been a medium.
“Thank you. As you can see, I'm posing as a ghost.”
“Lovergirl,” Meredith teased. Then her face grew serious as she got a read on Julia's feelings.
Julia peeked past Mer, at the bunks where covers were rumpled and bodies were curled up. “Have you guys seen Cayne?”
Mer shook her head, and Julia’s heart sank.
“Is something wrong? I can tell you're worried.”
“Nothing other than Cayne probably went to get me some funky breakfast.”
“Are you sure? You want me to do anything?” Meredith's deep brown eyes were wide, and Julia knew she wasn't making a convincing show of her lie.
“I'll look around first.” She shrugged. “I think I’m gonna get a shower, and then if I still can't find him...” She shrugged. “I'm sure I will.”
Meredith nodded, and as Julia turned to go, she reached out, fingers brushing Julia's wrist. “Hey,” she said softly. “I'm so glad you're okay.”
Meredith threw her arms around Julia, and Julia squeezed her back as Mer spoke into her hair.
“I don't know if I've ever said it directly but...I wanted you to know I'm really sorry. For what happened with Nathan, at the resort. I feel so...responsible for your going to the pyramid. I'll never forgive myself if something happens to you.”
Julia pulled back. “Mer, it's okay.” She looked into her friend's eyes as she said it, and she hoped Meredith could feel the truth in it. “You didn't do anything wrong. No one is to blame except the people who really are. Okay?”
Meredith nodded, wide-eyed and sad, and Julia hugged her bestie one more time, just to seal the deal.
She felt guilty for the relief she experienced as Meredith went back into her room and she was left alone to worry where Cayne was. It wasn’t until she got back to her room that she realized what, other than Cayne’s presence, had changed.
Before she’d fallen asleep, rich sunlight had been streaming across the cot. Because the curtain was pushed back. Now it was closed. On the windowsill, folded neatly, was a note.
/> Julia,
Please don’t be angry. You know I have to do it.
Wait here for me, I'm begging you. No one will look for you here. As long as you stay, I can do what I have to do without worrying.
I promise to do everything my power to come back to you.
Take care, my heart. Please don’t follow me. If nothing else, you can give me that peace.
Love always,
Cayne
Julia turned to face the doorway, where Meredith was waiting with a shocked look on her face.
She probably sensed it from Julia, but Julia said the words anyway—maybe because she needed to, to make them real. “He’s gone.” She curled numb fingers around the note. “He went to take on Methuselah.” Cold fear shoved its way into her heart, followed by a sense of fanatical urgency. “Meredith, we have to go now.”
***
Cayne’s bare feet touched down on sandy ground, several dozen yards from a pyramid that flickered in and out of sight like a hologram. When it was visible, it glowed faintly, standing out against a black sky sprinkled with stars.
Cayne tucked his aching wings and sighed as the ragged feathers disappeared, taking some of the soreness with them. Despite The Adversary’s power, flying was still the best way to get around. He could go faster now—he’d made the trip in just a handful of hours—but it hurt.
He circled the pyramid a few times, looking for entry, before deciding he would simply make his own entry, similar to the way he'd made his own exit from Hell. But where would be the best spot for blasting through the massive, rectangular stones?
He watched for nearly an hour before he was able to glean an idea of the pyramid's layout. There was a hanger on one side, hidden by whatever power camouflaged the pyramid. He happened to be looking in the right direction when a garage-like door opened and two large vehicles—he thought they were called Humvees—drove out.
He picked a spot on the body of the pyramid and flexed his fingers, letting loose the grip he'd been holding on The Adversary's power. It bubbled to the surface—literally, it felt like the blood in his veins was bubbling. He could blast his way into the Chosen base and take out everyone in there—but he only needed to take out one.
He grinned, letting loose the grip on his anger, too; the rage that had always fueled his violence, put in him when he was just a boy.
As hellfire began to pour from his fingertips, he heard a whistle to his left. Cayne ducked, heart pounding, and scanned the perimeter. It only took a second to find the sliver of light spilling onto the dark sand, two dozen or so feet away from him. There was a black form at its center, waving.
Cayne strode over slowly, surprised to see Edan standing in a doorway which hadn't been there at all a few moments before. The Demon wore dark jeans and a tight t-shirt; his deep blond hair hung over his gray eyes, which were, as usual, unreadable.
“Fancy meeting you here.” Cayne lifted a brow, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his gut.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Edan said, equally sarcastic.
He stepped inside, motioning Cayne to follow. Cayne stood just outside the door. “What are you doing here?”
“Helping a friend.”
Cayne considered throttling the bastard. Just punching right through his pretty nose and driving his fist through the back of Edan's skull. With The Adversary’s power roaring inside of him, he could literally knock Edan’s head off.
He swallowed the urge. For Julia. “We’re not friends.”
Edan looked hurt. “You know I don’t have free will, right? Your father stole that a long time ago.”
“You know I don’t care, right?” Cayne glanced down the hallway behind Edan; it was small, square, and made of dark, packed mud bricks. He knew it from visions of Julia in this place.
After only a second of deliberation, Cayne's fury got the better of him. He stepped through the door, snatched Edan by the throat, and pushed him into the wall. Dirt fell on the Demon’s face, making him squint. Cayne squeezed harder. “I saw what you did to her.”
“I-I was forced...” Edan sputtered, trying and failing to pry Cayne’s fingers away.
“And were you forced to bring her to Hell? Were you forced to open this door for me?”
“N-No. I...can—”
“If you have no free will, The Adversary is pulling the strings.”
“It’s not—”
“Where is Julia now? Tell me! Is she here? I swear to you—”
“NO!” Edan gasped, and Cayne realized he was choking the Demon to…whatever happened to Demons. Oblivion? Non-existence? He loosened his grip, and Edan slid to the floor. He rubbed his throat, eying Cayne warily. “As far as I know, Julia’s wherever you left her. And just because my will isn’t free doesn’t mean I can’t act with some autonomy. I just have to stretch my interpretation of my master’s plan.”
“How did you know I was here?”
Edan shrugged, looking rueful. “Mr. A's pretty pissed off about you getting out. He didn't expect you'd be able to manipulate Hell. He’s on his way here now, to stop you.”
Cayne felt light with relief; he wasn't worried about The Adversary. Clearly he was incompetent. He hadn't known Cayne would be able to use the power he'd seen Cayne use? Ridiculous.
“Where is Methuselah?”
“I’ll show you,” Edan said. “If you're sure you want to walk into this.”
Cayne stared into the Demon's eyes, certain there were cracks in his story, but not sure where they were. “Free will’s not what it’s cracked up to be,” he muttered.
Edan nodded. “Let’s start this party. And Cayne?”
“What?”
“Lock and load.”
Cayne frowned, and Edan groaned. “You really don’t know that one?”
He shook his head, trying to ignore the itchy feeling he was being led into a trap.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Julia was in the Glasgow airport, arguing with an airline employee while Carlin yelled in Spanish into a cell phone she’d bought in one of the stores. They were both trying to get tickets on a flight that departed for Egypt right now.
Drew stood sentry beside Julia, stonily daring the attendant not to do what she was asking; Meredith’s hand touched down on Julia’s elbow, and Julia's temper was so piqued, she had to struggle not to throw it off.
“Can you fly us somewhere closer? What’s halfway?”
“There’s a flight to Athens in forty-five minutes…but it’s already begun boarding. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t care if I have to run! What gate?”
“Ma'am, you won’t be able to get on.”
“We’ll pay however much it costs. Just get us on the plane.”
“You’re not understanding me, ma'am. It’s not an option. The best choice is the flight leaving Glasgow International Airport for Cairo. It boards in less than three hours, and there are still seats available. There is no sooner flight, you see?” The blonde woman turned her laptop around toward Julia, and Julia put her hand over her face.
“We’ll take it,” she said. “First-class, please.”
The woman glanced at them, her eyes widening a little as Carlin shoved a credit card her way.
Struggling not to break down, Julia took a few steps into the crowd. Her eyes tried to make every tall, built guy into Cayne, so she looked down at her feet, which were clad, for the second time since before she lost Harry and Suzanne, in not pink All-Stars. Methuselah had her All-Stars, and her boyfriend.
A ball of tears built in the back of her throat, but Julia swallowed it. She couldn’t afford to break down now.
Suddenly a hard hand grasped her elbow, half spinning her, and Julia found herself face-to-face with an open-mouthed Drew.
“We need to go,” he breathed.
“Huh?”
“We need to go to baggage claims. Edan is waiting for us there.”
“You had a vision?” Carlin exclaimed; the airline attendant's eyebrows rose, but Julia didn't
even care.
Drew nodded, looking grim. Meredith's dark eyes were wide and concerned, and Julia realized her grim-faced friends were thinking the same thing she was: trap. If Edan was here, it wasn't a good thing. Edan was never a good thing. Trouble was, Julia had to see him. He could fast-track their trip to Egypt. She knew he could.
They found him leaning against the last baggage belt, wearing the black jeans and t-shirt he'd had on back in Hell, and a look that was caught somewhere between tired and bored.
Last time Julia had seen him, he'd been leading her through Hell, and before that, springing her from Methuselah's lair. She still felt skeptical about why he'd done either of those things, in particular, springing her from the pyramid. If he worked for The Adversary, and The Adversary was on Methuselah's side in the whole Julia-Cayne-Destruction of the Net plan, why would he have helped her get away from Methuselah? If Methuselah had been able to make Edan whip her, why had Edan later been able to defy Methuselah and help her escape?
It just didn't make sense, and Julia didn't like things that didn't make sense.
She tried to tell herself to calm down, but as his eyes moved over each one of them, she couldn't help remembering them another way: vacant, dazed. She remembered his body, bathed in blood. His hand, clutching a whip.
Without warning her knees went weak, and Meredith caught her just in time. Julia was still a little surprised when Nathan grabbed her other arm. He and Meredith held her as she sagged, breathing fast, a slave to her nightmarish memory.
“What's wrong?” Carlin asked.
Julia forced her legs to hold her weight and wriggled free of everyone. “Is it okay if I talk to Edan for a second? By myself?”
“No way!” Carlin exclaimed.
“I wouldn't do that,” Nathan said, and Drew shook his head. “We can't trust him.”