Sacrificed (The Ignited Series) (15 page)

And that was all based on the assumption that I carried the bloodline of a magical goddess. I sure didn’t feel like I did. But then, I didn’t really feel like the other things I was supposed to be either. Except maybe the fighter thing. I was always down for that, but part of me wondered if my interest in fighting had more to do with Nathan than the actual desire to fight.

Things with Nathan have been…good, since our talk on the side of the road. He hasn’t shown me that kind of emotion again, but he hasn’t been avoiding me either. In fact, we’ve started sparring again, usually once a day for an hour or two in the morning.

He has also expressed an interest in what I’ve been doing down here, and seemed to think that I might be on to something. Most evenings, he’s been sitting with me, flipping through some of the books and acquainting himself to the world of Incantation.

In fact, he would usually be down here by now.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. I’d been at it for three hours straight.

I stretched and the sound of my back cracking reminded me of the sound bubble wrap made when twisted. As I gingerly got to my feet, I couldn’t help but think I looked like Gran always used to when she got up from her chair after a long knitting session, shuffling and hunched over on her way to the bathroom.

Good
God, I needed a break.

I ascended the stairs gingerly, straightening my back a little at a time until I felt closer to my age again. As my foot scraped across the landing, I heard frantic whispers to my left, in the kitchen, followed by a loud crinkling noise. More whispers.

I froze. It sounded like Callie.

What was she up to now?

The last thing I expected to find when I emerged from behind the basement door was a
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
banner stretched across the length of the kitchen. Callie was busy securing a balloon to one end of the banner, while holding onto what had to be a hundred more. Nathan was setting a yummy-looking cake on the kitchen table, and was the first to notice me. He grimaced, and I got the impression that I was crashing my own party.

Nathan nudged Callie into turning around. She looked momentarily disappointed before adopting a bright smile. Perfectly timed together, as if they had practiced it, she and Nathan wished me an over-the-top, “Happy birthday!”

Micah was standing by the counter, his back to me, and looked over his shoulder. “Happy birthday,” he added belatedly.

Even Gabby and Richie were there. Granted, they stood in the corner, by what appeared to be an assortment of liquor bottles and sodas, and didn’t look up as I approached. But they were there. That was huge. For them.

Surprised wasn’t a strong enough word for what I felt. Unexpected? Definitely. Happy? Seeing the look on Callie’s face as she rushed me, a mountain of balloons flapping behind her, bouncing off each other and everything in her path, yeah, I was definitely happy.

I caught her as she threw her arms around my neck, gushing something about me having the best birthday ever. I had to knock a few balloons out of the way to see her face when she withdrew.

“We didn’t quite get finished,” she explained in a rush, “but it’ll only take a minute to tie the rest of these up. Presents are wrapped. Cake is finished.” Callie paused, dropped her voice an octave. “Nathan baked the cake.”

My gaze slid over Callie’s shoulder to Nathan, who was drilling a hole into the back of her head like she’d just given away a secret he’d rather not have shared with the entire household.

I didn’t bother to hide my grin. So he could bake? Personally, I thought it only made him even hotter.

And presents? Had I heard her say presents? Sure enough, stacked neatly on the kitchen table, next to the cake, were a few wrapped gifts.

“This is too much,” I told Callie. Especially since I hadn’t even remembered that today was my birthday.

“Never. Not for my best friend.” She slung an arm around my shoulders and escorted me the rest of the way into the kitchen. “Here. Cake first. We’re hungry.”

The cake wasn’t anything fancy, but looked delicious with its white icing glittered with multi-colored sprinkles and the words
Happy Birthday Kris
drawn in purple glaze. Nathan had done a nice job. I looked up at him, eyebrows raised. He shrugged and lit the 1 and 8 candles planted in the center.

“Make a wish,” Callie instructed.

So much to wish for, how could I possibly pick only one?

I wished for this adventure we were on to have a successful ending. I wished for the war between good and evil to end, and for everyone to go on to live happy lives without fear. I wished for my best friend to find her happily ever after, and for me to find mine as well. I wished for Alec to come back. I wished…

I didn’t mean to, but right before I made my silent wishes and blew out the candles, I glanced in Nathan’s direction. He was watching me closely, with a barely detectable smile, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had any idea what my last wish had been for.

CHAPTER 14

I had to give it to them. The party had been a good idea. We’d all needed the break. But, after an hour, I needed a break from the break.

It seemed wrong, somehow, to be celebrating when we had no reason to celebrate. Not really. Alec was gone. We were crawling our way toward the answers we sought, and it seemed impossible that we would find them before it was too late. I could barely stand to be in the same room as Micah anymore, and my whatever-you-wanna-call-it with Nathan was…stalled, to say the least.

All of that, plus the addition of Callie’s strongly concocted margaritas was why I now stood outside, alone on the back porch, staring up at the stars like they held the answers I needed so desperately to find.

They sparkled down at me, but nothing inspirational materialized before me.

“Thanks for nothing,” I muttered miserably.

“Talking to yourself now?”

I hadn’t heard the patio door sliding open, but when I looked now, I saw Nathan closing it behind him as he joined me on the porch.

I turned forward and smiled as he stepped into my periphery. “Just complaining to the stars.”

He mirrored my stance, positioning himself against the railing on the opposite side of the stairs from me. Silence filled the space between us, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable type.

“They’re bright,” he observed after a moment.

“Sure are.”

Were we really standing there, making small talk about the stars? But then, the little things always seemed so much more significant when Nathan was involved.

“You okay? Is the party too much?” Nathan asked. “It was Callie’s idea.”

I smiled. Of course it had been her idea. “No. The party’s great. I just needed some air.”

Out
of the corner of my eye, I saw him shift his weight from one foot to the other—Nathan’s version of fidget. I never grew tired of seeing him squirm around me. It only served as a reminder that I seemed to be the only one that could make him nervous.

“Thanks for the gift, by the way,” I said with a smile.

While Callie’s and Micah’s gifts had been great—an assortment of girly accessories and a gift certificate to the hair salon in town to touch up my highlights which, according the Callie, needed some serious attention—Nathan’s gift, a beautiful leather-bound journal, had been downright touching.

He had to have known how much it would mean to me, had to know that I’d been without the journal I’d had since I was a little girl since I’d been forced to leave it in Boone. Only I didn’t know how he’d known. Again, one of the many things Nathan just happened to know about me. 

“No problem,” he replied.

“What made you think of it?”  

He shrugged. “I know you’ve been without your old one. I thought you might like to have something to write in again.”

Finally, I turned to him, my eyes narrowed. “You knew I had a journal?”

He hesitated as panic flashed in his eyes. “Yeah. I’ve seen you with it. You’ve had it since you were a kid.” He glanced at me quickly, before looking away, facing forward.

I didn’t hide the fact that I was studying him as he avoided my eyes. “Did you ever read it?” I asked quietly.

His head tilted toward me, one of his almost-smiles barely visible. “No. I never read it.” He met my gaze as I continued to stare, my wary expression letting him know I wasn’t sure whether or not to believe him. This forced him to add, “I didn’t. I swear.”

I shrugged like I didn’t care one way or the other, though the thought of him seeing anything in that journal terrified me. No,
embarrassed
would be the right word. 

“It’s all about you,” I said like it was no big deal. His throat jumped, but he said nothing. I hoped it wasn’t because he’d already known that. “It was more like random thoughts about who you were, and what you were doing in my life. I’d probably get a good laugh out of reading it now. Maybe now that I got those questions answered, I’ll have more appropriate teenage-
angsty things to write about instead.”

Never before had I wished for a teenager’s mundane life more. It would be nice to only worry about boys, clothes, and conquering firsts. Not life changing truths and a future I had no control over.

“The cake was good,” I said cheerily in an attempt to alter the direction of the conversation. With a smile growing on my face, I added, “I didn’t know you could bake.”

I decided to leave out just how hot I thought that was.

“It came out of a box,” Nathan returned drily.

“Still good.”

“You make a wish?”

“Several of them.
Big
wishes. It would be nice if one of them came true,” I grumbled.

His shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath, and I was sure he’d guessed what at least one of my wishes had been. He turned so that he was facing me directly, leaning up against the railing. The entire width of the steps separated us, and I could feel every inch of that separation. His brief grin was gone now, and he opened his mouth to say something.

“No excuses, Nathan,” I interrupted. “Just give me that for my birthday. Please?”

“I wasn’t,” he said as he took a step forward, closing the gap between us. One hand cupped the back of my neck, tilting my face up to his. He paused long enough to read the answer to his unspoken question in my eyes before he lowered his lips to mine.

Like the last kiss we’d shared, this one was soft and gentle, as if mirroring the delicate state of our relationship. A raw, unreleased passion simmered beneath the surface of his forced composure, and I wished for it to break free. It was a want that physically tore at every cell in my body, and I wondered if he would ever give in completely, like I wanted him to.

Even as our lips locked into their perfect fit together, even as my knees grew weak beneath me, even as my pulse thundered in my ears from the wonderfulness of it all, I craved more. I used my body and my mouth to indicate how much more I wanted from him.

Nathan responded the way I’d hoped. His tongue parted my lips and he pushed the kiss deeper, faster, needier than ever before. A moan rose in my throat as I clawed at his back, pulling him closer, wanting to feel as much of him as I could.

Pressed between him and the wooden post at my back, I finally unraveled a layer of Nathan I had been waiting to find. I’d known he was passionate—from his words, from his outlook on life—but I hadn’t known him physically passionate until now.

We kissed, alternating between soft meaningful brushes and deep exploration driven by an insatiable hunger. For the first time, we eventually withdrew on our terms. Not because he had a moment of clarity and not because we were interrupted, but because we were both too winded to keep it up.

His forehead pressed to mine as we both caught our breaths.

“Huh,” was all I could manage for the time being.

“Huh?”

I opened my eyes. His were still closed, but I saw a smile teasing his lips.

“Now that’s what I call a birthday wish come true,” I whispered, earning a full, dimpling-inducing grin from him.

He leaned back, his eyes holding mine. “I might not be able to make them all come true…”

I wondered if this was it—the moment Nathan would forget about his hang-ups, his fear, and all the reasons he had in his head for us to not be together. While I hoped, I didn’t ask. I couldn’t handle to hear his answer. Not now. Not on the heels of that kiss. I didn’t want to ruin it.

“We should get back inside.” Though he said the words, he gave no indication of moving anytime soon. His hands still had a firm grip on my waist.

“We really should.”

He smiled.

I smiled back.

Finally, with a shake of his head, he retreated a step, freeing me from my Nathan and porch railing sandwich. Taking my hand in his, he led me to the door.

“Callie made another batch of margaritas.” He hesitated, slowing his steps. “I think that was why I came out here in the first place.”

The way he said it came out sounding like a question, and I found myself laughing in response. “Forgot why you came out here, huh?”

“Hmm. I guess I did.” He looked down at me then, and it took all the willpower I had not to jump him. Callie’s party-voice cutting through the glass door acted as a bucket of cold water, giving my willpower the extra boost it needed.

Nathan seemed to remember that we had a party to get back to at the same time I did. He broke the magnetism between us first, turned, and slid the door open. “Come on, birthday girl,” he said, ushering me in ahead of him.    

And just like that our moment was over.

The margaritas were flowing. Callie was animatedly talking to everyone, obviously doing her best to keep the festivities alive in my absence. She didn’t bat an eye when Nathan and I returned together, though I knew she was curious.

She wasn’t the only one.

From his perch on the counter, Micah glared at Nathan. When his gaze shifted and he caught me looking at him, he didn’t bother to conceal his anger, or his disappointment.

Apparently doors and windows weren’t enough to block Micah from reading me.

I went to bed thinking of Nathan, but Micah filled my dreams.

A gentle breeze stirs my hair. My senses are on overdrive as I’m hit with the sting of saltwater and heat, and pick up the sound of water crashing behind me. I spin around to see the most beautiful beach I’d ever seen in person. Or in a dream. 

Micah stands facing me, his bare feet ankle deep in the crystal clear blue water. His grin welcomes me to his dream world.

He has spun some nice settings for us, once he started getting good at controlling them, but this one…

“A little over the top, don’t you think?” I shout to him over the sound of waves crashing.

He grins as he motions for me to join him. “Come see for yourself. Water’s nice.”

He’s right. It is nice. I stop to enjoy the feel of the sand between my toes as the water swirls over my feet. For a moment, I forget…everything.

“I was getting a little sick of the cold and snow,” Micah volunteers.

“No complaints here,” I say. “I wish I could manipulate my dreams like you can.”

“Maybe someday.” He doesn’t sound so sure, and neither am I. I’m not the dream walker here. He is. For some reason, I’m just able to join him. He’s the prophet. This is his dream.

My dreams, when they’re not shared with Micah, are much, much darker. Things like car accidents, blood, and death are the norm for me.

But it’s too pretty here and I don’t want to think about that right now.

“Come on,” Micah says, taking my hand in his.

And I let him. I’m distantly aware that things would be different in the real world, but in the dreams…things are different between Micah and me. We can talk and be together and have fun. And I don’t despise him.

In fact, I kind of like him.

He seems to know that when he grins down at me and squeezes my hand tighter. 

“You know,” he muses, “we should probably work on your ability to block your mind.”

“Why?” I stop to dig my toes in the sand. There’s a smile on my face when I look up at Micah.

“Or at least teach you to block me until our connection is finalized,” he amends. “That way, when you’re making out with Nathan, I don’t have to know about it.”

And there it is. So much for serenity and nice dreams.

I pull my hand out of his. I manage to keep my temper under control, though my head feels on fire. “Maybe you should keep your nose in your own business.”

“This is my business,” he returns quickly. “We’re connected, so your business is my business, and vice versa.”

“No, Micah. You think we’re connected—”

“You think I can do this with everyone?” His arms
grow wide as he gestures to the dream world we are immersed in. “Only you, Kris. Because…”

“I know. We’re supposed to be soul mates. Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“We are soul mates. I can feel it.”

“Well, I can’t.” I hesitate, uncertain where to go from there. My words, though I know they are hurtful, spill out of me like I cannot control them. “And I don’t want that. I’m not just going to let it happen.”

“Let it happen?” he smirks. “Not like you can stop it.”

“Well, I’m going to try.”

I’ve never seen Micah react with such a raw emotion as that statement induces. His face drops and for a second—only a second—I feel bad.

“Doesn’t it bother you that we get no choice?” I ask him. “Being forced to feel a certain way about someone? What if you meet and fall in love with some wonderful girl?”

“That’s not going to happen. You’re the only girl for me, Kris.”

I spin away from him with a loud groan. “You only believe that because you think you have to, Micah.” I stop and stare at the waves crashing, almost wishing for the ability to dive in and get tossed around. It had to be better than standing her
e, doing this, with Micah. “We shouldn’t be forced into this.”