Shadowlight

She stood and looked down at him. Asleep he should have looked younger or vulnerable, but his strong, handsome features appeared unchanged. Only when he smiled, she decided, did he change into someone less godlike.

For the first time she wondered whether he were one of the Takyn, and didn’t yet realize who she was. They had been so adept and thorough at concealing their exact abilities as well as their identities that she had no way of recognizing one of her friends in the flesh, unless …

At some point during the experiments that had been performed on them, each of the Takyn had been tattooed with the image of an animal. After searching one of the abandoned facilities, Paracelsus had told the group that the doctors had used the tattoos to name them as well as classify their abilities. Aphrodite had suggested it might be better for all of them if they kept their tats under wraps, but Jessa had taken the extra step of having her own removed, which had taken several months and many painful treatments.

She reached down, bracing herself before she ran her fingertips quickly across the inside of his wrist, feeling it for the telltale texture left behind by laser treatments. Fortunately the shadowlight didn’t take her, and all she felt was smooth skin over dense muscle. His other wrist proved to be just as unmarked.

Jessa straightened and bit at her bottom lip. Some of the others hadn’t been marked on the wrists or arms; Delilah said her tattoo had been placed in an unmentionable area, while Paracelsus complained of always having to keep his shirt buttoned to the collar to cover the ink on his collarbones.

Matthias moved, making her catch her breath and freeze in place, but he only turned over onto his side and settled back into sleep.

He was marked.

Jessa stared down at the snake tattoo, wound in the shape of a sideways figure eight, that had been inked into the side of his throat. The only color used had been black, but the work was particularly detailed; she could count the tiny individual scales along the entire body, and counted three mock lights reflected in the reptile’s single eye. The snake was depicted as biting—no, devouring—its own tail.

She knew enough about symbolism to recall that the snake eating itself represented infinity. What do you think should last forever?

She didn’t meant to touch the tattoo, but something about it drew her fingers like a magnet. Only after a minute had passed did she realize something else—sometimes she could get away with a quick touch, but extended or repeated contact with anyone always triggered her ability. Yet touching Matthias like this was not sending her into the shadowlight.

Surviving a blizzard and an avalanche isn’t a sin, she thought, shivering a little as she remembered the brutal cold he had endured. Why would such a terrifying experience make you feel guilty or ashamed?

Curious as she was to discover the reason he felt guilt and shame over his ordeal, Jessa had to be practical. The snake didn’t prove anything except that Matthias had been tattooed sometime in the past. If she were going to believe his story about the Kyndred and being part of some rescue operation, she’d need more to go on than a mark on his neck.

Although she tried several times to find it, Jessa couldn’t locate the security hatch Matthias had shown her. She felt sure she was moving through the correct tunnels, but found herself reaching only one dead end after another. Exhaustion began to tug at her feet, and reluctantly she returned to the room he had given her.

The door didn’t have a lock on the inside or outside, so she took the straight-backed chair sitting beside the washbasin and propped it under the knob. It was too flimsy to keep the door shut for long, but if someone came in, the sound of it falling would wake her.

Normally she slept nude—another habit she and Matthias shared—but she kept her clothes and shoes on as she curled up on the bed. When the opportunity to escape came, she thought as she closed her eyes, she had to be ready.

Jessa fell asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow, and she was so tired she didn’t expect to dream. Yet when oblivion overtook her, she felt herself drawn through the darkness back to more familiar surroundings: her bedroom in her apartment.

She stood beside her bed and saw someone in it, covered by her sheets. On one level she knew she was seeing herself in the past, but the shape under the linens seemed wrong. It was bigger and wider than it should have been.

Carefully she reached out to draw back the sheet, and went still as a large, hard hand caught her wrist and pulled her down on top of the body. Another male hand pushed aside the linen to reveal Matthias’s face.

“This isn’t real.” She rolled off him onto her side. “This never happened.”

“I watched you.” His gilded jade eyes shifted as he looked at her skylight. “From there.”

Jessa glanced up. “From the roof?” He nodded. “Why?”

“I wanted to see you.” His fingers smoothed a piece of hair back from her face. “You were restless that night.”

“I have trouble falling asleep,” she admitted, placing her hand on his hip as if it were perfectly natural. She remembered what she usually did when she was restless and groaned a little. “You saw what I did?”

“I did. You were beautiful.” He brushed a fingertip against the fringe of her lower lashes. “I wanted so much to come inside.” His fingertips moved down to rub across her lower lip. “You brought me pleasure that night. Watching you, I shared yours.”

“This is a dream.” She ran her palm up to his waist, and then over the corded, unyielding muscles of his abdomen. “None of this is really happening.”

He seemed amused now. “And if some of it did?”

Jessa buried her face against his chest and laughed. “I think I just got even.” As she spoke, her mouth brushed against his skin, and she felt his body tighten. “God, this feels so real.”

“It can be.” His hand cradled the back of her head as his other arm curled around her, urging her closer. “Between us, it can be everything you’ve imagined and more.”

“I can’t even bump into a stranger without seeing the ugliness that they hide inside. Now I’m touching you, and all I see is you.” Jessa lifted her face. “Who are you, and why are you in my dream?”

“The gods brought us together,” he murmured as he bent his head. “Nothing will keep us apart.”

Before Matthias’s mouth touched hers, Jessa woke to the feel of something prodding her in the shoulder. She opened her eyes, expecting to see him, but only Rowan’s scowling face hovered above her.

“Let’s go, Queenie,” the girl said. She was nudging her with a wooden spoon. “Come on, wake up. I haven’t got all day.”

Jessa sat up and blinked. “What time is it?”

“Breakfast time.” Rowan thumped a tray filled with food onto the end of the bed. “French toast with almond butter, sliced peaches, and black coffee.” She took a neatly folded pile of garments from under her arm and dropped them next to the tray. “Clean underwear and clothes, brand-new and in your sizes. Before you ask, I was the one who checked your labels while you were napping yesterday.”

“Thank you,” Jessa said.

“Bring the tray back to the kitchen when you’re done. If you want a shower, your bathroom is at the end of the hall on the right. The hot water lasts about five minutes, so I’d make it fast.”

Jessa eyed the chair, which was back in its original place by the basin. How had Rowan dislodged it and put it back without waking her? Or had Matthias come in and … She wanted to crawl under the bed now. “Did he come in here to check on me?”

Rowan arched her brows. “I cook for him, Queenie; I don’t keep a GPS on him.”

It must have been only a dream, Jessa decided. One she’d think about later, when she was alone. “Last night the kitchen was locked.”

“It’s open when the rest of us are awake and harder to stab with the kitchen knives.” She turned to go.

“I didn’t need to go into the kitchen for that,” Jessa pointed out. “I could have pried open one of those weapons cases.”

Rowan looked back at her. “With what? Your teeth?”

Good point. “Why do you have all those old weapons down here?”

“Matt just likes to collect them. It’s a guy thing.” She hesitated, and then said in a gruff tone, “I serve three meals a day, but you can use the kitchen when I’m not working in there. Whatever you mess up, you clean up, or you and I are going to have a problem. Matthias is a vegetarian, and I cook for him, so don’t go looking for anything that had legs.”

Jessa eyed the wooden spoon in Rowan’s hand. Obviously the girl knew about her ability or she wouldn’t have used it—but there was something more to this ongoing hostility of hers. “If you like, I can help out with the cooking.”

“Ah, the tentative hand of friendship is extended, right on schedule.” Rowan’s upper lip curled. “Be still, my fucking heart.” She walked out.

Jessa made a trip to the bathroom before she ate. Rowan’s breakfast tasted as delicious as dinner the night before, and she didn’t have difficulty finishing it. She carried the tray back to the kitchen, where she found a fresh pot of coffee but no Rowan. She poured herself a second cup to sip as she hand-washed her dishes and put them in the rack beside the sink to air-dry.

“How did you sleep?”

Jessa turned quickly and almost bumped into Matthias’s chest. It reminded her so much of the dream that she jumped backward to avoid the contact. “God, you’re like a cat. What did you do, teleport in here?”

“What is teleport?” He said the word slowly, as if for the first time.

“It means … Never mind.” He was just very quiet, and she needed to stop thinking about her ridiculous dreams and pay more attention to her surroundings. “I’d sleep better if there were a lock on my door.” She wouldn’t be worried about dreaming anymore, either.

“You do not need one.” He gave her his flash of a smile. “You are safe, Jessa.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">