Hearts Cursed, page 16
That sense of freedom, it had started with lust, certainly, creating sensations in her body that made her feel more like herself than she ever had. That lust had been true. She had trusted it. And that trust had grown, fed by Trip’s trust in her, his belief that she was good.
It was then solidified by the realisation that he wasn’t the only one who felt that.
The people around her – her family, if not by blood, then by choice – all believed in her too. They believed in her goodness; had been trying to make her be true to that all these months as they’d shown their love and support and tried to enfold her into their family and make her feel like she belonged. They’d trusted her with the task of finding Trip. They’d trusted her enough to start to train her how to use and control her new magic.
But the best thing of all – to use a metaphor suitable to this time of the year – the thing that had turned a lonely, damaged pine tree into a true representation of Christmas spirit was that they believed in her enough to save Dawn. To do exactly as she asked and stand back and let her do it.
That trust, added to Trip’s – it was everything she’d never had and more. It filled her up inside and made her glow, not with fury and fear, but with love and happiness, and yes, Christmas spirit.
Joy. She felt joyous.
She’d never in her life felt joyous before.And it was the most marvellous sensation.
“Look, she’s glowing all over,” someone said reverently.
“The link. Between Dawn and Ilia. Can anyone else see it?”
“It’s getting weaker.”
“Where’s the one between Trip and Ilia?” That was Korinna, her voice worried. “I thought they said that was supposed to appear to take its place.”
“What happens if it doesn’t?” Jules sounded worried.
“She’ll die.” Bas whispered. “She needs a life-force to help keep her alive until we find another solution. It’s why we just couldn’t break the link between her and Dawn.”
He was right. She knew that now. Knew this was why Loki hadn’t been able to show her any more of her future – she didn’t have one. But that thought wasn’t enough to mute her joy.
“What can we do?” Tamuel’s pained question did, stabbing her in the heart.
“Nothing,” she whispered to them. “You can do nothing. My life doesn’t matter. Only Dawn’s.”
Trip lifted his head, his hand convulsing against her cheek, his tortured gaze meeting hers. “Your life does matter.”
She touched his lip, his fang. “You must keep drinking.”
“Not if it will take your life.”
“You must. I give it willingly. For you. For Dawn. It’s necessary. To save you all.”
“No. I won’t. It’s not fair.”
“A life for a life. It’s the penalty we must pay. I’ve had more than my fair share, anyway. Drink. Before it’s too late.”
“Ilia,” Jules said, bursting into tears.
She reached out her hand for Jules to take. “It’s okay. These last months have been a gift I never thought to have. To be a part of your family.” She turned back to face Trip. “To know love. True love. I leave you all far happier than I have ever been.” She took Trip’s head in her hands. He was still so weak from their trip to the in-between that it was easy to guide his head back to her neck. “Drink, my love. Let your touch be the last thing I feel.”
“No,” Trip moaned against her neck even as his fangs sank into her skin once more, as if the Fates and destiny were too strong for him to fight against. Another sign this was meant to be.
“I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you,” she heard in her head. Trip, somehow talking through the soul-bond as he drank. “Not now I’ve found you.”
“I will always be with you,” she whispered.
“Not how I want. Not how you deserve. The Gods ask too much of you. This was supposed to be a giving and a taking. A sharing. Now it’s just all give from you and all take from me.” As the words echoed in her head, he sucked harder, groaning against her skin as if the action pained him.
But she felt no pain. All she felt was rightness and a need. A need that was growing inside her. A need for the sharing he was talking about. A need for his life-force to be in her.
A need for … his blood.
As the thought hit her, fangs grew in her mouth, pricking her lower lip.
What? How? She wasn’t a Goddess.
“Maybe not,” a distinctly female voice whispered in her head. “But you are Trip’s soul-bound mate, equal to him in every way. Be equal now. The sharing is a two-way street.”
Oh!
Sharing. That’s what this was truly meant to be. While he drank of her blood, she was supposed to complete the circuit by drinking of his.
But with him at her neck, how could she do it?
His fingers convulsed against her face, his wrist brushing up next to her mouth. Without thought, she turned and sank her new fangs into his skin.
The copper tang of blood rushed into her mouth followed by a rush of power and a scent that was like apples and summer fruit and the blooms that had grown in the garden he’d made with his blood. It filled her, making everything inside her grow and reform, settling into something new.
Something that was just her.
Something that was part of him too. But not in a cloying way. Not in a way that made her feel trapped. No. This was like when he’d told her he loved her, like when she realised she was part of a family, like when she realised she loved him, and felt freed by it.
And as that sense of freedom swept through her, there was a wrenching tear as the link binding her to Dawn snapped. But that tear didn’t remain an open wound. It healed immediately, the frayed ends of the bond reaching, stretching, joining.
With him. With her love. With Trip.
He was hers and she was his and together they were flying to a freedom she never thought to have.
Somewhere in the distance, a baby wailed, accompanied by shouts of joy. Movement beside her as the slight weight of Dawn was lifted from the bed. She rolled over, closer into Trip, her arms tightening around him, her leg sliding over his as they twined together, both taking, both giving.
They were one.
And it was the most magnificent thing in the entire universe.
In her eyes, stars swirled faster and faster until they exploded, a magnificent firework, and she and Trip were falling, falling, right into each other’s arms.
She awoke sometime later to the sound of carols drifting through the closed door, along with talking, laughter and the tearing of paper.
Trip shifted, mumbling something about sweetness and light, then rolled over onto his back. She made a sound of protest in her throat – she wasn’t ready to let go of him yet, to let go of the warmth, the feeling of completion – but then he pulled her to him, her head nestled on the firmness of his broad chest, hand over his heart.
A heart that beat in time with hers; a heart that pumped with her blood alongside his, as hers pumped his blood alongside hers; a heart that now held her deep inside.
She’d been so stupid to hold herself back from this; to let old fear rule her so completely. But now none of that mattered because she was home.
“That’s nice,” she muttered.
“What?” he murmured, moving his hand to brush her hair back from her face and tip up her chin.
She opened her eyes to see his, the light green glowing in the dark and filled with his love for her. His trust in her. His happiness in her. She smiled up at him. “This. Being here like this. It feels like home.”
“It does. Being with you will always feel like that for me now. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He bent down as she reached up, their lips meeting in a soft, longing kiss. She would have deepened it, but the sounds from outside the door got louder and he pulled away. “We better not,” he said softly. “They might come through that door to check on us at any moment.”
She nodded. She didn’t want to get caught making love to him; the first time they truly made love, she wanted it to be just them, so she could lose herself in him completely.
She settled beside him, both turned on their sides, staring into each other’s eyes.
She still couldn’t believe this had happened; that after everything, she’d found her soulmate, had tied herself to him in every conceivable way and was filled with light and joy because of it.
For the first time in her life, she was peaceful. Next to realising she was in love with Trip and the magnificence of sharing blood with him, it was the most remarkable feeling she’d ever experienced.
“Should we go out and join them? Let them know we’re awake? Sounds like it’s Christmas morning with all the paper tearing.”
“Can we just stay here a little longer?” she asked.
“Sounds perfect to me.” He touched beside her eyes, the longing and love in his warming all the places inside her that had been so cold for so long. “Beautiful. So beautiful,” he whispered as he ran his finger over her brow, down her nose and along her cheek.
“So are you.” She mirrored his gesture. “Your eyes are glowing.”
“Are they? So are yours. Like sunlight over a mountain peak at dawn, all purple and golden. In fact, all of you is glowing.”
It was then she realised that the light she could see his face by was coming from her. She looked down at herself. Trip was right. She was glowing. But it wasn’t the worrisome glow that had emanated from her chest because of her fury. This was like after Dawn had turned her spirit form into a corporeal one at Easter. Except the light was more silvery than golden.
It was kind of pretty except … She growled deep in her chest. “Damn it. Not again!” It had taken a few months for that glow to dim enough so that she could go outside and not be subject to people’s stares.
“You look like an angel. Like you’d be more at home perched at the top of a Christmas tree.”
She growled louder. “Not funny.” She sat up slowly, a little stiff but surprisingly okay for someone who’d been close to death not so long ago. “I am nothing close to an angel. I’m a thing of broken edges and angles. I’m a mess.” She went to tuck her hair behind her ear, then stopped as her fingers tangled in the rat’s nest of knots and mess that had taken up residence on the side she’d been lying on. “Agh! Look at my hair! Actually, don’t look at it!” She quickly tried to smooth it down, but stopped when he chuckled and replaced her hands with his.
“You are beautiful as you are, mess and all. I’m not exactly perfect either.”
“But you’re a God – or something like one.”
“Given you drank my blood like that, so must you be.”
She grimaced. “I don’t know how.”
“Don’t you?” He waved his hand at her chest. “You spent thousands of years in a piece of a Goddess’ heart. Then you were remade with Goddess-gifted energy. You, like me, have had more than one Goddess’ power responsible for remaking what you are now. Huh … I wonder what those two Goddesses powers mixed together in one powerful witch could turn into? Do you think—”
She put her fingers against his lips, uninterested in the latter part of his musings. “You remember where you came from?”
He sat up beside her, grasping her hands in his, sliding his thumbs over the pulse point in her wrists. “Yes. Much is still foggy, but I can remember where I came from. I can remember Demeter and Persephone and Gaia. I can remember first hearing the prophecy and about Perses. I remember coming up with the idea to create the Eleusinian Mysteries to help others fight the coming darkness; the changes I made to it to help my daughter after I found out Innia was pregnant.” He swallowed hard. “I remember what it felt like to leave Innia, pregnant with Korinna, how it felt to know I might never know my daughter or see the woman I loved again.”
“Oh. Trip.”
He smiled softly at her. “It’s an old pain, one that barely hurts now I know you. What I felt for Innia – it was a young love, never having time to mature. What I feel for you however is deeper and so much more encompassing. I will always love Innia, but that love is nothing to what I feel for you.”
“I know,” she said softly, brushing his hair from his forehead. “I know. And I am glad you remember her.” She blinked tears from her eyes.
“As am I.”
“It is not too much? Remembering all of it?”
He tipped his head. “I remember only a small portion as yet. I think that’s as it must be. I don’t think it would be comfortable to have everything come rushing back all at once.”
“Do you think we might need to drink each other’s blood again? To gain back your memories completely?”
He tipped his head to the side, looking warily at her. “Will you mind if we do?”
She glance down at their linked hands, chewing on her lip – careful not to break the skin with her newly pointy eye-teeth – as if she was considering it.
“It’s okay if you don’t. I’m sure they will come back eventually with what we’ve shared. I can already feel them at the back of my mind, like a cloud of fog just waiting to clear.”
She looked up at him through her eyelashes, unable to hold back the mischievous smile. “I think I might be able to handle it. As long as we get to do it in a private place with nobody watching on, because next time we do, I’m not going to be able to stop from jumping your bones.”
His mouth wobbled as he tried to hold back his smile. “I could get on board with that.”
“Good.” A noise from the lounge room made her glance at the door. “I wish we were alone now.”
“So do I. But we’re not. Although,” he frowned a little. “I think I remember how to whisk us away to somewhere private if that’s what you wish.”
“You would do that for me? Miss out on your precious Christmas morning with your daughter and her family – the first Christmas you’ve ever shared with her?”
“I would. In a heartbeat. There will be other Christmases. But there won’t be another first morning that I wake with you in my arms. And making love to you now would be the best Christmas gift I’ve ever given or received.”
Her lips quirked. “Oh really? You think it would be the best Christmas gift you could give to me? Got tickets on yourself, I see.”
“With what I’m remembering I can do, you bet.”
He lunged and she laughed as his arms wrapped around her, taking her down to the bed, their lips meeting in a kiss that was all tongue and tasting and passion. She felt him deep inside her, but she wanted even more. She’d always want more. But could she ask him to give up his precious Christmas after everything they’d been through?
No, she couldn’t. Couldn’t do that to him, or to herself.She wanted to share this Christmas with him and everyone out there too.
The shock of that realisation had her gasping.
He pulled back. “What is it?”
Chapter
Twenty
Before she could answer, the door banged open and they looked up as a body shot across the room to bounce on the end of the bed. “Trip! You’re awake.”
“Gideon! Come back here.” Daphne appeared in the doorway.
More bouncing as Gideon shouted, “He’s awake! I said I could hear him talking.”
“Stop that. They don’t need you bouncing on the bed!” Daphne entered the room, obviously with the intent to grab her youngest son.
Before she could, Trip pulled Gideon to him, giving him a hug and ruffling his hair. “It’s fine. I’m used to this rascal bouncing on my bed first thing Christmas morning. It’s a tradition.”
“Dad?” The question had him looking up as Korinna entered the room. The others appeared in the doorway behind her, delight and relief in their eyes and smiles. Korinna edged closer, hands wringing in front of her, Tamuel at her back. “Do you … do you remember?”
“Oh, my dear. My darling girl. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I left you and your mother like I did. But I had no choice. I hope you understand I had no choice?”
“I do. I do!” She rushed to him, hands stretched to take his. Gideon moved so Trip could pull her close, enfolding her in his arms. “Dad. Dad. You remember? You remember.”
A lump rose in Ilia’s throat, her chin wobbling as she blinked back threatening tears.
“Not everything. But it’s coming back.” Trip kissed his daughter’s head, holding her close for a moment before pulling away to look down at her. “It’s all coming back.” He reached out to grab Ilia’s hand while holding Korinna to his side in a hug. “Ilia and I will share more blood to make certain I get all of my memories back.”
“You will?” Korinna asked, gaze flying to Ilia’s.
Ilia nodded. “Of course. It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done for me. Besides …” She shared a secret smile with Trip. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought.”
“That’s such a relief,” Jules said, as she came to the other side of the bed, Dawn in her arms.
“Oh!” Ilia said, gaze raking over the baby. “She looks so well. As if nothing ever happened.”
Dawn held her arms out, leaning towards Ilia. Jules handed her over. Ilia hugged the baby to her, kissing her downy head, breathing in the smell that was baby powder and fresh soap with a hint of lavender and something else that was all Dawn. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Dawny. So very glad.”
Dawn placed her hand on the side of Ilia’s face. In her mind she heard, “I’m happy you well now too.”
“What?” She blinked, uncertain if she’d imagined what she thought she’d just heard.
“It’th me!” Dawn smiled brightly.
“That’s … that’s impossible!” Their communication had always been in images and feelings, never words. Dawn was too young for anything else.
“She spoke to you?”
Her gaze snapped to Jules. “What?” She glanced around as the others all nodded. They’d heard her too. “How? Mind speech at such a young age is unheard of.”
