Reawakened (The Reawakened Series) (7 page)

“I don’t know. He was gone before any authorities arrived.”

“I thought he was badly hurt.”

“He was. But…he stumbled away.” My voice drifted off lamely.

Her keen eyes spotted my notebook and she pulled it closer, trailing her finger down the page. “Is this your mystery boy?”

I nodded while laying my arm over the notes about him at the bottom, hoping it would be interpreted as a casual, nonconcealing gesture.

“Hmm. Perhaps I should place a few calls, try to track him down so he can get some medical help.”

She was heading into the realm of making Amon her business, and I couldn’t allow it. It wasn’t that she would do something to hurt him, but my mother had very strong feelings about people needing to be shuffled into what she considered their proper place.

In her care Amon would likely end up in an institution. I wasn’t sure he didn’t belong in one, but the idea of him being put away felt very wrong. Needing to throw her off the trail by agreeing, I swallowed thickly and squeaked, “I’m sure he could use it.”

I experienced a brief moment of panic as she hesitated over my sketchbook. If she decided to confiscate it, I didn’t know what I’d do. Instead, she closed it and pushed it to the corner of my desk.

“You know how tolerant I am of your little hobbies,” she began. “I just hope that you weren’t rushing into a dangerous situation for the sake of documenting someone…new?” Her sentence was part command, part warning, and part query. Smiling back, I just shook my head, as if the notion were entirely unwarranted.

After a painful moment of my mother’s scrutiny, during which I was sure she could somehow read my mind and discover each and every little secret thought, she dropped the subject and gave me her social-media smile. A small part of me was panicked that she would search for footage of the incident with Amon.

As long as I didn’t jostle the frame too much, I could safely cross between the world my parents lived in and the world I’d fashioned for myself. The incident with Amon was the most dangerous, and admittedly exciting, thing that had ever happened to me, and as much as I wanted him to find his home, and he could probably do so with their help, I also wanted to keep the events of the day all to myself.

“Well, we have a little humanitarian in the family, then, don’t we?”

Quickly, I turned my grimace into a small smile and hoped my mother didn’t notice the difference.

“Just be sure to reschedule your meeting,” she continued. “You know how important it is to your father.”

“Yes. I know. I’ll give the Weird Sis…the girls a call tonight.”

Her eyes narrowed shrewdly. She caught my sarcastic slip but magnanimously chose to ignore it. “That’s my girl.” She smiled, patting my cheek as if I were a prize pony, before turning and disappearing for the evening.

Letting out a deep sigh of relief that the interrogation was over, I stood and groaned, massaging my lower back. I felt like an old lady. Even worse, like an old lady who had been run over by a car. Little prickles of pain erupted all over my back, sending goose bumps of aches up and down my body, which made me feel like a porcupine being kicked around by a tiger—bristly, dizzy, and slightly gnawed-on.

Deciding to skip dinner and retire early so as to stave off whatever bug had invaded my system, I climbed into my four-poster bed and settled in, hoping for a long, rejuvenating sleep. Instead, I dreamed of strange things. Large, colorful beetles crawled up my arms and kept coming no matter how many times I brushed them off. I sank into a murky river full of snapping crocodiles. And then, when I thought I could stand the nightmares no more, I was wrenched into a dark place where an unseen evil tried to pry away something that was precious and perfect.

I woke abruptly at dawn as air shifted over the bed, and I sensed movement by the French doors. The sheer curtains billowed in the breeze, and I could hear the comforting sounds of beeping trucks many stories below.
I must’ve opened the door to the terrace last night,
I thought.

Rubbing my arms, I stepped into a pair of soft slippers and padded toward the door. Dew coated the wrought-iron patio furniture. Stepping onto the veranda, I caught the scent of the planted flowers in their hanging boxes and inhaled deeply as I looked out over the park.

I rubbed the head of the large stone falcon that the hotel had placed there long before we moved in. I believed, though I’d never admit it, that the gesture brought me luck. There was one bird guarding each side of the hotel—north, south, east, and west. My personal falcon seemed to be watching over Central Park, protecting it like a gargoyle, and sometimes I liked to imagine that he was watching over me, too.

Pink rays of sun hit my skin, and though my body still ached and my head throbbed painfully, I swore that just standing in the sun siphoned off some of the pain. I heard the flutter of wings behind me and would have immediately shooed away the pigeons if standing in the sun hadn’t felt so perfect.

Gripping the balustrade, I closed my eyes, basking in the feeling and momentarily forgetting my surroundings until I heard an all-too-familiar voice. “The sun makes us feel strong, Young Lily. As I am bound to it, you are bound to me.”

Whirling around, I whispered in an incredulous voice, “Amon? What are you doing up here? Wait. No. More important, how did you get up here?” I kept my voice low as I glanced nervously at the open door to my room. It was unlikely my parents or Marcella would be checking on me so early, but then again, they enjoyed changing up the routine every once in a while to keep me off guard.

“I need you, Lily,” he said simply.

“What you really need is to go home,” I replied. “Look, why don’t I just call the police and see if they can locate someone who knows you?” I turned toward the veranda door.

“No.” His quiet command stopped me, and I felt a familiar warm glow filter through my mind, just like when I hadn’t been able to leave him in the street. When I made the mental decision not to call the police, I regained control of my limbs.

My eyes lifted to his questioningly and I felt his emotions rise within me. “You don’t have a home anymore, do you?”

“My home has long since turned to dust.”

Tilting my head, I asked, “Are you controlling me with hypnosis?”

“What does that mean?”

“You know, like taking over my mind, making me your Renfield?”

He concentrated on my eyes and then raised his eyebrows as if he’d discovered the answer to a question. “Ah, I understand,” he said. Pacing behind the couch, he clasped his hands behind his back. “The answer I would give you is, not exactly. It is not my intention to make you a slave to my will, Young Lily.”

The dawn light spilled over Amon’s body, giving his skin a warm glow. Though it was definitely strange and all kinds of wrong to find him not only in the building I lived in but also on the same floor
and
just outside my room, I was surprised that I felt happy to see him, crazy stalker or not.

If I’d been logical, I would have been figuring out a way to alert the police or, at the very least, building security, but my desire to do so was weak, and I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything but relief. Amon, too, seemed reassured upon seeing me unharmed.

Of course, I also had to acknowledge that his answer to my Renfield question was “not exactly,” which meant that I
was
somehow bound to him like Renfield had been to Dracula. It was entirely possible that he was placing these placating thoughts in my head. Did I really trust him, or was he just coercing me to feel that way? At the same time, if I couldn’t rely on my own emotional response, what
could
I trust?

I took a few steps forward and then stopped, my mind at war with my feelings. Sunshine pooled around Amon, and I swore I could almost see the heat radiating from his body. The cold that had seeped into me since my bath hadn’t gone away, despite the thick down comforter I’d buried myself under when I went to bed, but Amon looked all kinds of warm—like a hot summer day at the beach mixed with sun-kissed tropical breezes all wrapped up in a heated blanket.

He appeared to sense my thoughts and smiled, his teeth dazzling and bright against his golden skin as he stretched out a hand. For a moment, I wondered if that warmth of his would encompass me, too, if I held on to him. But I immediately gritted my teeth, determined not to allow him to manipulate me, and stood my ground.

Folding my arms across my chest, I suppressed a shiver and hissed, “Answer my question. How did you get up here?”

Amon lowered his hand and frowned. “The man who guards the golden box showed me how to find you.”

“Stan?” I shook my head. “No. That’s not possible.”

He gave me a long look and sighed. “Many more things are possible than you can imagine, Lily.”

Apparently.
And now common sense told me I needed to get away. I backed up a few steps and sidled a little closer to the open glass door. “What do you want from me, anyway? Why are you following me?”

“We are…connected, Lily.”

“Connected,” I repeated flatly.

“Yes. I have done a spell that has tied my
ka
to yours.”

“Your ka? What the heck is that?”

“Ka is like…” He slapped his palm against his head and walked away, his white skirt swishing around his muscular thighs.

With his back turned to me, I got a good view of his broad shoulders and his strong arms, which were only slightly less distracting than his wide chest and very nice abs. I shook my head to clear it. Was he really the most attractive guy I’d ever seen, or was he just manipulating me into
believing
that he was?

He spun around quickly and though he didn’t seem to notice my gaze redirecting from his body to his face, my cheeks burned. This time I didn’t get the sense that he was aware that I found him attractive. I frowned as I acknowledged that those feelings had come from my own head and not his.

“It’s like a life force,” he continued. “My life force is tied to yours.”

“I still don’t understand. Are you trying to say we’re soul mates?”

“Mates?” This time color stained
his
cheeks. “No. We are not coupled in that way.”

I couldn’t help it. I snickered. Biting my lip, I wondered if I should be glad or insulted that he didn’t like me like that.

Amon suddenly seemed nervous and dropped his eyes. “Your”—he gestured to my midsection—“inner workings, your viscera—the stomach, lungs, liver, intestines, even your heart—are linked to mine. This connection has caused you pain. I am sorry for this, but I was desperate. You see, I cannot survive long in this world without my jars of death, and since—”

I held up my hand. “Wait. A. Minute,” I said, punctuating each word. “Are you saying that you’re borrowing my ‘inner workings’ because you couldn’t find your canopic jars?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re serious?”

“Yes.”

There wasn’t even a hint on his face to say he was anything but sincere.
All right.
I decided to go along with the craziness for just a moment and try to figure out what exactly was getting lost in translation. At least I was now getting
some
answers.

“So you’re saying that I’ve been feeling sick because of this spell you cast.”

“Your thoughts are correct.”

“And so…you’re what, exactly? An organ vampire?” A mind-melding vampire was something I understood if not believed in.

“I do not understand ‘vampire.’ ”

“You know. A bloodsucker. A garlic hater. Turns into a bat. A sparkly demon that avoids sunlight. That sort of thing.”

“I do not avoid sunlight; the sun strengthens me. And I do not drink blood.”

“Uh-huh. So that makes you a…” I did the mom trick and waited for him to fill in the blank, but he just stood there looking at me.

“Okay,” I said, embracing my inner sarcasm. “Then choose the answer that best applies to you. ‘I am (a) crazy, (b) a tanning-slash-workout junkie, (c) an ax murderer looking for a place to put his organs, or (d) a figment of Lily’s very inventive imagination.’ ”

He frowned. “I am lucid of mind, Lily. I do not understand ‘tanning,’ and the only lives I have ever taken were those of evil men.”

I was about to ask a question about the killing of evil men when Amon strode boldly toward me. Again, I found I couldn’t move, though his increasing proximity was setting off alarms in my brain. He gently pressed his palm to my cheek and gazed at me with eyes greener than the grass in Ireland.

Instantly, I became aware of his unique scent—liquid amber with a kiss of cashmere and a hint of myrrh warmed in the sun. I liked it. A lot. I didn’t want to. My cheek burned where his palm rested, and I found I couldn’t turn away from him.

With the utmost earnestness, he asked, “Does my touch prove to you that I am a real man and not someone found only in your dreams?”

My throat had suddenly gone dry. I made an effort to swallow and reply, but instead I focused on his full lips and merely nodded, especially when I realized that I didn’t really know how to answer his question.

His hand slipped down my face to cup my chin, and he studied my expression for a moment before saying, “You do not need to fear me, Lily. You are hurting because of my actions. Please let me help.”

After he said that, I was able to focus once again on the throbbing at the base of my neck, the ache in my limbs, and the nauseating quiver in my stomach. I nodded, confused but trusting at that moment, despite the other half of my mind protesting to the contrary.

Amon took a step closer, miles of bare chest mere inches from me, and even without coming into full-body contact, I felt prickles of warmth sink into my frame like I’d been shot with little solar arrows.

Closing his eyes, Amon placed his hands on my neck and cupped it gently. The thought briefly occurred to me that I might soon be strangled, but he held me as carefully as a butterfly. He began murmuring and his hands burned in a VapoRub kind of way. My skin tingled as heat ran through my body, shutting off the pain and leaving a blessed numbness in its wake.

When Amon lifted his head and staggered back a few steps, I could see the cost of whatever it was he had done. His golden skin now had a gray, pasty tinge and his bright eyes looked tired, more brown than green.

Sinking on to the nearest piece of patio furniture, Amon buried his face in his hands, his chest rising and falling quickly, his breathing as shallow as if he had just run a race.

“What did you do?” I asked, trying to make sense of what had happened.

“I gave back some of the energy I stole. Unfortunately, it is only a temporary reprieve, Young Lily.”

“Temporary?”

“Yes. The pain will return, but I will share the burden of it for as long as I am able. You must believe that it was never my desire for you to share my fate.”

“Look, I’m not really following you, fate-wise. I’m just going to assume that you did some kind of hypnotherapy on me, and it worked. So thank you. I feel much better.”

After a brief moment of hesitation, I sank onto the cushion next to him. His emotions tasted bitter. Assuming he was telling the truth and we were connected, then what I was feeling now could, in theory, be coming from him. Pain. Weakness. And something else…something beneath the surface. It finally came to me: loneliness. As quickly as I made sense of it, the emotion was smothered.

“Do not delve too deeply, Young Lily.” Amon leaned his head back against the cushion and added softly, “You may not like what you find.”

He closed his eyes, long lashes casting shadows across his cheekbones. Tentatively, I pressed the back of my hand against his forehead. His skin, which had been full of heat a mere moment before, had turned as cold as ice. “You’re freezing,” I declared.

I rushed into my room and scooped up my down comforter, stopping to close and lock my bedroom door just in case a parental figure decided to check on me, and headed back to the veranda. After tucking the comforter around Amon, I asked, “Were you serious when you said the sun makes you stronger?”

“Yes, Lily,” he whispered.

“All right, then. Let’s get you back into the sun.” I didn’t understand what was happening between us, but his weakness had created an even stronger tangible pull. It was gentle but persistent. It came at me in little waves, slowly sapping my strength.

“Your thoughts are correct,” Amon said as I shuffled him to a bench bathed in sunlight. “But I will attempt to use as little of your energy as possible.”

“Can you read my thoughts?”

“I understand you in the way you understand me,” he explained cryptically. After he was settled, he mumbled, “Thank you, Lily.”

The sun really did revive him. The difference was noticeable and undeniable. His draw on me lessened until I could barely feel it. After a few moments of observing him, I said, “Okay, here’s what I’m thinking. You probably have a condition. Like one of those rare sun allergies, except you’re the opposite. You’ve got a problem with shade.” But if that was really the case, then how had Amon given his strange sun condition to me? “Amon? You mentioned sharing my energy.”

“Yes. That is right,” he replied.

“So yesterday when you were injured, you borrowed my energy to heal yourself. Is that correct?”

“Partly. You are my tie to this world. Like an anchor on a boat. I can draw all my power only when I am fully formed. Until I am in my proper frame, I must remain linked to you.”