Something Wanton (Mystics & Mayhem) (23 page)

I glanced down at Ainsley, hoping I wasn’t going to find only half of her draped in my arms.  I felt my stomach tie itself in knots when I saw that she was almost gray and her lips had started to turn blue. 
Seeing her like that was enough to give me the added strength to lift her up onto the table.  Blood was still pumping from the wound in her stomach and I backed away, trying not to be sick, as I screamed for Grams again, this time my voice shrill enough to shatter glass.

“Ember?  What on earth are you doing here?  Are you all right, child?”

I turned around to find Mrs. Amelia’s stooped little form standing in the kitchen door with nothing on but her nightgown.  I frowned, wondering what the hell had happened to her.  There was something distinctly unhealthy about her, and I wondered if she was sick.  She seemed smaller to me than she’d been the last time I’d seen her—and at less than five feet tall, she’d been tiny enough to start with.  It was like she was shrinking into herself or something.  Patches of her tightly curled hair were gone, leaving nothing but flaky white scalp where they’d been.  Her skin was paler than mine, which was really saying something, and it seemed to hang on her bones like it was just waiting for the opportunity to slide off.   

What really threw me, though, was her aura.  It was a sickly mish mash of colors that didn’t
look right.  The scent coming off of her was enough to turn my stomach, and I quickly held my breath, trying not to breathe it in.

“I need Grams,” I told her quickly, hoping I didn’t sound as disgusted as I suddenly felt.  “My friend is hurt.  I need Grams to heal her.”

She looked past me at the girl on the table and I saw her eyes widen in shock when she saw the blood pooling on her shiny mahogany table top.  Before she could ask why there was a girl bleeding to death in her kitchen, I heard the sound of quickly approaching footsteps and breathed a sigh of relief when Grams appeared behind her, her cheeks still flushed with sleep and her eyes wide with fear.  

“Help her!” I begged, turning my head in an effort to keep her from seeing the damage to my face.  I was sure we’d get around to that eventually, but for the moment I needed her to concentrate on Ainsley.  “Please, Grams!  Please help her!”

Grams hurried over to the table and Ainsley’s tiny form with Mrs. Amelia trailing after her.  Making sure to keep my head turned as much as possible, I watched the two older witches examine the gunshot wound in Ainsley’s stomach.  I heard their soft voices as they talked about what would have to be done, but I tuned them out.  The only thing I wanted to hear was that the girl would live.  That was all that mattered.  She had to live.  I had to know what she was trying to tell me.  Nothing else mattered.

I tried to ignore all of the blood pooled around Ainsley’s body
, but the longer she laid there, the harder it became to look away. She was so pale and so small. How could anyone so small lose that much blood?  It didn’t seem possible that she could even have that much blood to lose. 

Grams and Mrs. Amelia kept up a running commentary as they worked, their experienced fingers moving quickly and efficiently.  Even with both of them trying to save her, it still took them forever.  There had been something different about the bullets the hunters were using, Grams told me during her examination, something that kept the blood from clotting.

“You can’t save her?” I asked in a whisper, staring at Ainsley’s pale face and blue-tinged lips.  She was too young to die.  She couldn’t have been more than twenty, for God’s sake!  

“Yes, I can save her,” Grams said with a frown.  “It’s just going to take a little longer because I don’t know what they used.”

By the time Grams and Mrs. Amelia had done all they could do for the tiny girl on the table, I had started to pace the kitchen like a caged animal at the zoo.  I was making my way past her for what seemed like the millionth time when Grams turned to give me an irritated look—Grams hated it when people paced.  I tried to turn my head, but I wasn’t quick enough.  I saw her eyes flare wide at the sight of my bruised and swollen cheek, but rather than start screaming like a banshee, she just turned back to her patient.

“Perhaps you should step outside and get some fresh air, sweetheart,” she suggested without turning her attention from Ainsley. 
“My coat is hanging on the hook next to the door.  We won’t be much longer here.  I’ll come get you when we’re done.”

Her hand was held over the wound and it was glowing with bright golden light
, so she didn’t see me nod.  When I saw the way it was trembling, I knew her forced calm was all an act.  Just as I cracked the door open, Grams’ voice rang out again, breaking the silence.

“And Ember?  When I finish with your young friend here, I want to know what happened to
you
.”

That’s going to be a pleasant conversation,
I thought.

I wouldn’t be able to get out of telling her what had happened to my face. That would lead to what had caused the fight between Tyler and Nathan in the first place. And that would lead to Grams trying to kill Nathan when she found him and me getting another wound when I tried to stop her.  It was a vicious cycle, one I had a feeling I was just going to keep having to repeat.

I walked a little ways into the garden behind Mrs. Amelia’s house and found a convenient bench to sit down on.  I inhaled deeply of the clean scent of the flowers around me, flowers that should have been long dead in the middle of winter.  Yet there they were.  All I can say is that Mrs. Amelia must have been one hell of a witch to keep that garden in full bloom all winter long.  No wonder she was looking wrecked.  I didn’t even want to
think
about how much energy that had to take. 

I could smell the fresh scent of snow in the air and shivered as my head fell back and my eyes drifted closed.  You can, you know?  Smell snow, that is.  I can remember hanging out of my bedroom window as a kid, just sucking up that clean scent as I waited for the first snowflake to fall.  The memory made me smile.  What I wouldn’t give to go back to that time, to when monsters didn’t exist, and I wasn’t one of them.

It wasn’t long before Grams called me back inside—and it wasn’t a moment too soon, seeing as I had started to feel like a breathing Slushie again.  Ainsley wasn’t on the table when I walked in and Mrs. Amelia was nowhere to be seen.  There was only Grams, giving me a knowing look that was filled with regret. 

“Did she…die?” I asked in a slurred whisper, trying to understan
d the expression on Grams’ face even as I tried not to see how bright and pretty her aura looked all the sudden.  But, to my surprise, there was no scent to Grams, which meant there was nothing for my demon to focus on and salivate over. 

“No, sweetheart, your friend is going to be fine.  I put her in my room so I can keep an eye on her through the night.”  That said, she just stood there, watching me like she could get the story of my unpleasant evening from my face alone.  And my bruised and swollen face was probably telling quite the tale.  “Ember, I want you stay here with me tonight.  I’m worried about you.  There’s something wrong here
, and I can’t put my finger on what it is.  All I know is that I have never felt the kind of sadness and despair that I feel coming from you.”

“I’m fine, Grams,” I mumbled, trying to make myself believe that.  “I’ve just had a long night.”

Instead of continuing to press the matter, Grams walked over and enfolded me in a warm hug.  I let her hold me, needing her comfort more than I needed the warmth of her skin.  Because I wasn’t fine. 

I was
shattered, broken beyond repair. 

There was nothing left for me to hold on to.  Hope?  Yeah, that was long gone.  Faith?  What a joke.  All I had left was a lot of painful memories and a broken heart.

“Grams, why don’t I go crazy for your essence?” I asked as she pulled away.  “I can see it, but I can’t smell it or sense it or anything.”

“You should know the answer to that,” she said with a tender smile.  “I taught you how to do that charm the first weekend you were a witch.  I’m cloaking my essence, sweetheart.”

“Too bad you can’t teach everyone that trick,” I muttered, shrugging her coat off and handing it back to her.  When she just frowned at me, looking more concerned than ever, I tried to smile.  I failed, but at least I tried, right?  “I think I’ll just call Kim and have her come get me, Grams.”

“Stay, sweetheart,” Grams said softly, smoothing a hand over my hair
the way she had when I was little and would wake up from a nightmare.   “You need to talk to someone, Ember, and I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened tonight.  Amelia has given you the room next to mine.  I laid some clean clothes out for you in the bathroom along with a dose of Nexus.  You get a shower, then I’ll make us something hot to drink and we’ll talk.”

I didn’t want to rehash my evening.  I wanted to
hide somewhere dark and quiet and try to forget it had ever happened.  I had really thought I could pull off a whole new me, but the me I had been didn’t want to let go.  If she had, I wouldn’t have been hurting so bad over the way Nathan had treated me.  I wouldn’t want to scream and curse the sick Fate that had stuck me with him to begin with.  But, Grams being Grams, I knew we were going to have to talk about it, so I gave in without a fight.

“Yes, ma’am,” I muttered, dropping my eyes so she wouldn’t see how truly devastated I really was.

“Good,” Grams murmured, giving me another hug.  “I’ll call Val while you’re in the shower and let her know you’re with me so she won’t worry.”

Grams followed me up the stairs and waited outside the bathroom door for my blood-soaked clothing.  I stayed in the shower until all the hot water was gone, letting it wash away the traces of Ainsley’s blood that had dried on my skin.  Even after the hot water had turned icy cold, I stayed there, ignoring the way my demon protested the chill I was giving it as I tried to wash away that awful feeling of shame that I couldn’t
quite seem to get rid of. 

When I finally forced myself to get out and get dressed, I was back to feeling empty.  It wasn’t a great feeling, but it was better than the humiliation I’d been feeling since the moment Nathan had pinned me against that wall.  Anything was better than that.

And as it turns out, it was all for nothing.

I
stopped, frozen like a deer in headlights, when I opened the door and found Nathan sitting against the wall across from me.  His head was leaned back, his eyes were closed, and for just a second I allowed myself to look at him without letting anger or bitterness color what I saw. 

His face was too pale, too tense.  His strong shoulders were stooped, like he had been carrying the weight of the world on them and he was starting to bow under the pressure.  He just seemed…defeated.

It was a feeling I knew very well.

“How did you get in here, Nathan?” I finally asked, ready to slam the door between us if he so much as flinched in my direction. 

“I told you I would always find you,” he said softly as his eyes drifted open.  “I had to see you, Em.”   

“Why?” I asked, dropping my eyes to the floor
before he could capture my gaze like he had so many times before.  “You’ve made it very clear that I’m...” I stopped, swallowing back another wave of despair I would never be able to release, and shook my head.  “I don’t want to do this, Nathan.  You should go.” 

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything.  I knew he
was staring at my damaged cheek.  I could almost feel his horror as he remembered that
he
had done that to me.  I was just glad he couldn’t see the damage he’d
really
done. 

My cheek would heal, my ego would bounce back.  My heart though?  Yeah, that was a pile of mangled wreckage that even all the king’s horses and all the king’s men weren’t going to be putting back together again. 

“I can’t,” he finally said, his voice so low it was just a breath of sound in the silence between us.  “I should, I know that.  I should walk away and give you a chance to be happy with someone who doesn’t hurt you every time he turns around.  But I can’t do it, Em.  I can’t even bear the thought of it.”

I shook my head, not buying a word he’d said.  It was too late for us.  Too late for guilt and remorse.  Too late for forgiveness.  There was no coming back from the level of over we’d made it to.

“You can hate me if you want,” he murmured.  There was so much pain and regret in his eyes that I couldn’t look away once I made the mistake of meeting them.  “I don’t blame you if you do, Em.  I earned it in so many ways tonight.  But I wish you would find it in your heart to at least give me the chance to explain.”

“Why?  What good will it do, Nathan?”

“I might have a chance of making you love me again if I can make you understand,” he whispered, a single blood tear slipping from the corner of his eye. 

I watched that tear, giving myself another reason to hate him. 
Wasn’t he the lucky one?  He had hurt me in so many ways, shamed me beyond belief and made me feel even more tainted than I already was, and he had the nerve to
cry
in front of me.  I almost told him to go to hell then and there, but the desperate plea in his next softly spoken words stopped me.