Fated in Stone, page 18
She was right even if he didn’t have an appetite. He devoured two burgers without really tasting them as he waited for her to say more.
“Why me?” she asked after another long silence.
“I don’t know.”
“Can you have more than one Nam-tar? Will another one come along if this doesn’t work out?”
“No. Only one. That’s the only chance we get.”
She swallowed hard and looked out the front windshield. “What does the curse do?”
He winced, hesitated.
She finally looked at him again. “What does the curse do?”
“We die badly,” he said but when she opened her mouth, he stopped her. “I’m hesitant to tell you the details because…” He blew out a sharp breath. “I said we can’t force our Nam-tar to choose this destiny. To choose this potential for love. Fated doesn’t mean forgone. A Nam-tar has to choose to stay to break the curse. And we can’t manipulate that decision. If we do, the curse won’t be broken. Free will and free choice are fundamental to this.”
“No manipulation is allowed? At all?”
He shrugged. “Well, seduction and…courting aren’t considered manipulation for the purposes of the curse, so I suppose there’s some flexibility in that rule. But we’re not allowed to guilt you into staying, or make you feel obligated to stay. Which is why I don’t want to tell you what the curse does. That might be too…manipulatory.” He winced at the word.
She nodded, her lips pursed, but she didn’t turn away from him. “Seduction, huh?”
“It’s allowed.”
The moment stretched after that comment as he held her gaze. Color rose into her cheeks, but he wasn’t sure if that was the food or a blush. He did note the new flavor in her scent, a hint of desire. That same thread of deliciousness that had been in her scent at the bait shop that morning. And in the hotel room before that.
The desire, the lust had him hopeful he hadn’t fucked things up beyond repair. And, yeah, he wasn’t opposed to a little seduction to convince Elle they’d be good together.
They would be, too. Very good. His gaze traveled her face, settled on her mouth. Her lips glistened in the dim car interior from a quick flick of her tongue. Tempting him to taste her. Just a taste.
He let his gaze drop to her throat, where he could see the flutter of her pulse, then lower, taking in her lush body, allowing himself the luxury of really studying her. And letting her know he was studying her. Taking in the swell of her breasts, the curve of her waist. Mentally raking his gaze over all the places he wanted to touch.
Her breathing stuttered, and he flexed his hands in his lap to keep from reaching for her.
She swallowed audibly, cleared her throat. Let out a long stream of air through her pursed lips. He drank in every sign, ever flavor of her longing. And it took an act of will not to pull her across the console and onto his lap. He wanted her mouth on his so much that not having her in his arms physically hurt.
She swallowed hard again, and her nostrils flared. Then she nodded and said, “I’m not sure I’d call monster hunting courting.”
The humor was enough to cut the building heat and startle a chuckle from him. “I did say I’d have gone about this all differently given a choice.”
Her lips twitched with a small smile. “More seduction, less monsters?”
“Definitely. Definitely more seduction.”
She blinked hard a few times and gave herself a shake. “This conversation might be getting off topic.”
Not really. Seducing her was definitely something he’d have preferred to discuss in that moment. But that wouldn’t solve the fundamental problem of him fucking up last night.
“Is this…this Nam-tar stuff why I had such a hard time being separated from you earlier?”
He shook his head. Then winced. Back on topic. “Not exactly. But it’s related.”
“Nam-tar have to be together? They can’t be apart?”
“They can be apart. They often have to be. What happened to us isn’t…typical of the Nam-tar relationship.”
“Why are we different?”
He liked that she’d said “we” and that she wasn’t trying to deny being his Nam-tar anymore. He wasn’t even sure if she realized she’d made that switch. He certainly wasn’t going to point it out just yet. More hope, though.
Hope he was afraid would be short lived after he revealed this next part.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ben studied the remains of the third burger in his lap. He couldn’t remember eating it. His body did need fuel after everything that had happened in the last day and a half, but his appetite was off. Worse because of what he had to tell Elle now.
She was still a little pale in the faint yellow glow from the parking lot light at her back. The interior of the car was dark enough their conversation felt hushed and intimate. And how he wished he could go back to talking about seduction instead of the fact that he’d done something that would have a permanent impact on them both. But not in a good way.
He reminded himself it could still be okay. This could still work out. All was not, necessarily, doomed. But that third burger churned in his gut, and his wolf moved around restlessly in his head, and he had serious doubts about his own reassurances.
“Under ordinary circumstance,” he started, having to swallow to wet his dry throat. She handed him a soda wordlessly, her gaze locked unflinchingly on his. He took a sip of the drink and started again. “Because the Families live for so long, centuries, and because their mates are usually human, En worked in a rite, a ritual, that would allow us to pass some of our long lives, strength, and healing to our Nam-tar.”
“How?”
She already suspected. He was certain of it. The way her jaw flexed. The way she didn’t react to the distant sound of a passing big rig’s horn suddenly blaring. Her eyes were narrowed, and there was a crease between her brows. The chaos of emotion in her scent was worse now, though, so he was having a harder time reading that. The fear was climbing to wash out the anger. He hated the smell of her fear.
“Normally, there’s time for Nam-tar to build trust, love, all the things that make a long-term commitment work, before they go through the ritual. It requires a great deal of trust so it isn’t something couples usually do at the start of the relationship, even after a Nam-tar has agreed to stay. The ritual usually happens a few months, as long as a few years into the bond.”
“How?” she repeated, slowly and carefully.
“The Nam-tar stands in front of their mate and allows their mate’s animal to leap through them. The animal spirit delays becoming corporeal as it moves through the Nam-tar, until its on the other side. Then the animal leaps back through the Nam-tar and into its host human body. The process doesn’t take long. As long as it takes for the leap and return. Once done, a bit of the animal spirit is left behind in the Nam-tar and that’s enough to extend their lives. They won’t have an animal symbiote of their own. They can’t leap from their body to ride inside that animal and leave their human form encased in stone. They don’t become like us. But the ritual allows them to live in our world safer and longer.”
Nothing in Elle’s expression changed as he recited all this. She stared at him, without blinking, and not even her scent changed. The same mix of chaos with a high level of fear. Was it good or bad that the fear hadn’t actually gotten worse? She looked frozen, a statue herself in the dark car, so he was hesitant to call any of this “good.”
After a long, ringing silence broken only by the sounds of traffic on the highway, Elle finally said, “Does this ever happen on accident? With someone who’s not a Nam-tar?”
“If the animal leaps and there’s someone in the way, and that someone is not that particular hunter’s Nam-tar, then the person just gets pushed out of the way by the solid animal. The delay, the passing through another being, that only happens with Nam-tar.”
“So. No doubts with us then.”
“No doubts.”
“Did you… Your wolf leapt through me. Once. But not back. What did that do?”
“I hoped by not jumping back and finishing the ritual, it wouldn’t do anything to us. It was a mistake. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“I know. You were dying. Shot. Saving me. I can’t imagine you were thinking much at all in that moment.”
“Only of surviving to help you. I leapt to survive and to push you aside so you wouldn’t get shot. It didn’t cross my mind until it was too late that because you were my Nam-tar, that leap would mimic the ritual instead of an ordinary leap.”
“You called your wolf a symbiote,” she said, skipping over the other stuff in such a subject change, he blinked a few times.
“It is. Like I said last night, I’m not a werewolf. We’re not shapeshifters. The wolf and I aren’t one and the same but with two different forms. We’re two entirely different entities that share a single form at any given point. My consciousness leaps with the wolf when it leaves this body. It’s not left behind in the statue. When the wolf comes back into this form, it’s a separate consciousness living inside the human body.”
“Can it leap without you?”
“No. And I can’t be like this—” he gestured at his living flesh, “—without the wolf. We are true symbiotes in that we require each other to exist. But we’re not the same entity.”
“What happened with the ritual only half completed?”
“I’m not entirely sure. I hoped nothing would happen, but obviously something of the wolf was left behind. And because the ritual wasn’t completed, it seems that piece and my wolf can’t be separated easily, without the panic and fear and pain.”
“That’s why we had such a hard time in the woods.” Her expression was still so blank and neutral it was hard for him to witness. Her voice wasn’t much better.
“I think that’s why we had such a hard time being apart, yes. There’s no other explanation. No other reason for that sort of reaction—to that extreme anyway. I would have always had a hard time leaving you because, well, monsters and danger and you being a vulnerable human. But barely being able to be separate from you like that… No, that was my fuck up. My starting and not finishing the ritual.”
“Not a fuck up. An accident. Those are different.”
“Semantics. I should have known better than to leap with you in the way. I should have realized.”
She reached out and squeezed his hand. The sudden contact, any contact at all in that moment, was such a shock he froze. He was afraid to move. Afraid if he did, he’d lose that warm, reassuring touch.
“Accident,” she said, firmly. “You were shot. Seriously injured.” She swallowed visibly. “Dying. You had to leap and you did the right thing. The rest…” She shrugged. “An accident.”
“An accident that has pretty severe consequences for both of us, though.”
“Maybe,” she allowed, letting her hand slip away from his.
He missed the contact immediately, but didn’t dare reach for her. He was afraid if he did, she’d flinch away and that would gut him.
“What happens if we finish it, finish the ritual?” she asked, leaning back against the car door.
“Your life, strength, ability to heal from injuries and illness, all of that will be increased to match mine.”
“Do Nam-tar ever outlive their mates?”
“They do. They can. My mother did.” He hadn’t meant to say that last sentence. His mother and father, his father’s murder… That would sidetrack the conversation. He quickly moved past it, because Elle was curious enough to ask more. “But before that they’ve usually had many years together, even centuries.”
“What happens if we don’t finish the ritual?”
“That’s the part I don’t know. I’ve never encountered this situation before. And I haven’t had a chance to talk to anyone who might know what to do.”
“If we finish the ritual, does that mean I’ve…I’ve made my choice to stay, or…?” She shook her head hard. “How does this affect a Nam-tar’s choice to stay or leave?”
“I don’t know that either,” he said quietly. “I think you’d still have the ability to leave. To choose not to take up this destiny. We’d still be linked but…”
“But your curse wouldn’t be broken.”
“Right.” He shrugged. “I might have ruined any chance of that anyway, though. Last night.”
She fell silent and dropped her gaze to the console between their seats, and all the packaging rubbish from their meal.
Finally, quietly, she said, “If I can still leave, if I have that choice still, your curse can still be broken if I choose to stay, though. Right? That’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“But if you stay because of the ritual, or because you feel obligated to stay, or because the ritual linked us and you’re uncomfortable leaving, that’s manipulation. That’s forcing your hand. And the curse remains.”
“Fuck,” she muttered.
“Exactly.”
She shook her head. “It’s been less than two days. Barely over twenty-four hours. I can’t make that kind of choice in so short a period of time.”
“I don’t expect you to. I don’t want you to. No one would. There’s usual time. For the…seduction part.”
“The fun stuff.”
Despite himself, he wanted to smile at that. “The fun stuff. The stuff that hopefully convinces a Nam-tar this life and their destined mate are worth the dangers.”
“The problem is… I’m not sure how long I can stand to have this half-bond or whatever it is, this half-finished thing hanging out there between us, making being separated impossible. What happens if you die? Or I die? Before we finish. Where would that leave the other person?”
He hadn’t considered that. The limbo would probably drive the other person insane if one of them died. The thought of Elle going through that, without him around to help, stabbed him with so much fear and horror there might as well have been a monster outside her window. Actually, he’d have been less afraid of the monster.
“We have to finish the ritual,” she said. “One way or the other. And then, after, we can deal with the choice that’s before me. Before us. With the other stuff.”
“With the seduction?” he asked, not even a little embarrassed by the hope in his voice.
Her mouth softened, only a tiny bit, but it was progress, and while it wasn’t precisely a smile, there was a hint of humor in that softening. “With all of it,” she said. “But neither of us can remain in this limbo. Not with what we’re going into. It’s too dangerous.”
She was right. He hated that he’d put them in this position. But she was right. They had to finish the process. He had to let his wolf leap back through her.
“It’ll work, right?” she asked quietly. “Your wolf leaping back through me. That’ll work at finishing the ritual. Won’t it?”
Since he had no way of knowing for sure, and since he’d already breached her trust on accident, he gave her the truth. “I don’t know. I think it will. But like I said, I’ve never encountered this before. I’m not certain.”
She straightened her shoulders, her gaze steady on him. “We’ll find a hotel. Tonight. We do this tonight. We need to know if it’ll work or not. Before we reach the professor. Not knowing will make that extraction harder. We need to know.”
“If you’re sure.” He tamped down on his own emotions. His fear and hope equally pushed to the back of his mind. She was the one that mattered here. He’d do whatever she wanted, whatever she asked. And hope it made things right between them.
“I’m sure.” She pulled out her phone. “If you’re done eating, let’s get back on the road. The sooner we find an available room, the sooner we can get this over with.”
As she searched for a motel, he cleaned up their dinner and got them back on the highway, his stomach tight with worry. And fear.
And that damned hoped.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The roadside motel was another serviceable but not magnificent affair. Elle was used to those basic rooms when she was on a job, so she barely considered it. What struck her as interesting was that Ben got them two rooms. Adjoining. Within easy reach should something go wrong or a monster appear. But he made sure she had her own room.
She wasn’t entirely sure why this surprised her. Maybe because they had so much to talk about still, so they’d both be in one room for a while. Maybe because being separated was physically so difficult on them both thanks to their accident the night before.
But they’d only known each other such a short amount of time. She really should have her own room. And that he’d thought of that and she hadn’t was something she’d have to consider closer.
Nam-tar.
It was a strange word that felt funny in her mouth. More because it seemed to roll around her tongue more naturally than it should. She’d been honest with him. She didn’t believe in fate and destiny. She certainly didn’t believe in fated love. She only barely believed in love. And even that had taken quite a lot of therapy to work out. Her perspective on love and relationships was a bit skewed. A generous description.
She didn’t believe in his gods either. Same as she didn’t believe that Zeus and Hera were real gods. And she’d at least heard of them. How on earth could a myth from someone else’s family determine her future? That couldn’t possibly be real.
But monsters. There were monsters. Real monsters. She’d seen them with her own eyes. Heard one speak with words. Had to fight through them. Watched Ben destroy them. More than just one.
If there were monsters—and, as it turned out, werewolves—there were probably a lot of things in this world she’d considered fiction. Like old gods.
Did that mean destined love might be more than fiction, too?
Once they’d checked in, Ben grabbed their luggage from the trunk, including the sword, which he slid into his longer canvas bag, and carried everything to their rooms. She might have argued with him carrying everything but she was tired and not inclined to be obstinate for the sake of appearances. Plus, he was really strong. It wasn’t like her bag would strain his muscles.
