Cursed Hearts (A Crossroads Novel) (55 page)

“…Not
for long,” Christian breathed, shooting Kaleb a death glare.

“Don’t,”
she said. “He’s been hurt enough.”

He
huffed, turning his attention back to the yew. “Really?” he said. “I give up my
magic for this ugly old tree and it can’t even sprout a single freaking leaf?” Ariahna
hid a smile in the fabric of his shirt.

“Give
it some time,” Rome smirked. “The thing has been dead for hundreds of years.”

“You
clearly do not grasp the concept of magic, do you?” he said,
quirking an eyebrow at him. “I have two words for
you: instant
gratification. It’s probably your fault.”

“My
fault? Why the hell is it my fault?”

“Your
magic just wasn’t that strong. But mine, I mean, that should have done
something.” Aria slapped him on the arm and he furrowed his
brow, smiling down at her. “Hey, where’s the
gratitude? I made myself boring
for you.”

“You
shouldn’t have done it,” she said softly.

“Did
you really expect me to sit back and do nothing?”

“No,”
she said. “I just didn’t expect, or want, you to do that. I’m sorry, Christian.
And… I’m glad you’re okay.”

He
smiled, leaning down to clean the wounds on her neck. Ariahna winced as his
tongue traced carefully over her skin, feeling the bite marks tingle and close
under his touch. She stopped him before he could attempt to lick her face.
“Don’t even think about it,” she smiled. “I’ll make myself a healing tonic.”
Christian nodded.

“Can
you make me one?” he asked. “I think I cracked a damn rib.”

Rome
smiled at the two of them before noticing Kaleb had taken a
seat next to the water bank. He was tossing stones
across the surface, and
the tension between him and Christian had almost
dissipated. Almost.

“Why
don’t you go tell your vampire he can suck it,” Christian said,
glowering at Kaleb’s back. “Because if he ever
comes near her again, I’ll
tie him to a tree and let him starve.”

Aria
slapped him on the arm again. “Christian,” she said. “
Don’t
.”

“Colorful,”
Rome commented. “And I think he heard you.”

A
large stone skipped across the surface of the lake, colliding loudly with a
lone tree on the other side. Kaleb smirked as the birds fluttered from their
branches. “That’ll teach you to fucking chirp at night,” he muttered, swinging
back to throw another rock. Rome’s hand dropped to his shoulder, startling him
as he sat down.

“Shouldn’t
you find out if she’s alright?” he asked snidely.

“Strangely,
I think it’s you I’m most worried about.”

“Sure
you are,” Kaleb breathed, hugging his knees to his chest. He tossed the stone
at his own reflection a moment later, trying to ignore the fact that Christian
and Aria had decided to join them. His eyes flicked over her, and then quickly
away. Seeing the burn on her face was only making him
uncomfortable. Or perhaps that was the guilt he was refusing to
acknowledge.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered suddenly, startling himself.
Kaleb knew he probably looked as stunned as he felt. He never apologized, ever.
Rome’s hand squeezed gently over his shoulder and he fought the urge
to shake him off. Thankfully
Aria’s only response had been a quick
smile.

Christian spared Kaleb a glare.
“So what happens now?”

“I
don’t know,” Rome breathed.

“We
do what I think we’ve always done,” Aria said.

“And
what’s that?”

“We
take each day as it comes.”

The four of them sat there in silence, letting a few quiet
moments
slip by in thought.
“…I had the weirdest dream,” Rome said suddenly.

“I’m
pretty sure you can’t dream when you’re dead,” Christian mumbled. “It’s like a
rule or something.”

Rome
shook his head imperceptibly, tracing his fingers over the cool surface of the
lake. “My mother was there,” he said, his voice distant. “It seemed so vivid,
so real.”

“What did she look like?” Christian asked. He watched
Rome fish
out a small
photo from his wallet and hand it to him. Christian stared down at it, feeling
a weight on his heart. He’d always imagined her differently – a mean, spiteful
woman. But she was beautiful. He could see the kindness in her eyes. And he
couldn’t explain it, but there was something so familiar about her.

“I want you to keep it,” Rome said.
“I just wish
I could give you something
more.”

“What
did she say?” Ariahna asked. “In your dream, I mean.”

Rome
frowned at her.

“I
never said she spoke to me. How did you know that?”

“I…
I’m sorry; I could have sworn you said that she spoke to you. I think I’m just
tired.”

“She did say something, though,” he mumbled, threading
his
fingers
together. “It was something I forgot, something she always used to tell me. I
never really understood what she meant until today.”

Christian
raised his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

“She
said that a life without love would exist only for the sole purpose of dying.”

Christian
leaned back on his palm, wrapping an arm around Aria’s shoulders. She smiled up
at him, and they stared out across the lake, contemplating those words – reflecting
on just how lucky they all were.

If
that were true, one must assume that love was everything. That it wasn’t just a
feeling, but a tangible, irreplaceable part of the human soul. To
live is to hurt, and to hurt is to have loved.
After all, it is always a
blessing and a curse. It strikes without
warning, or reason. It happens by chance, and often when we least expect it.
Love transcends time. It has no beginning, and no end. Like a story, what it
does have, is meaning.