Descendant (15 page)

He taps the table with his fingertips, his mouth moving like he isn’t quite sure what to say next. “Yes, I—”

“What if I refuse to go?”

The kitchen falls silent. Kye doesn’t move.

“It’s a valid question. I have every reason to believe that going with you could be hazardous to my personal health and safety. Give me a good, solid reason why I should agree to this. And don’t say
because my mom already paid for a ticket, because I know she doesn’t have the money for that.”

Very slowly, Kye braces both hands on the table and leans in until we’re nose to nose. Logically, I know I should back away, probably run screaming from the house, but that’s not what I want. Being this close to him makes the pulse pound in my ears and heats my blood to boiling. What I want is to jump into his arms and hold on forever. Who cares where he takes me? What he expects from me? All these things race through my head, but I don’t actually
do
anything except blink, waiting for Kye’s answer.

“Here’s one,” he murmurs, his breath tickling my chin. “Because you want to go with me as badly as I want you to come.”

The tips of our noses are the only parts of us touching, but that contact alone makes my insides feel like I’m being electrically charged.
If I die on this trip, at least I’ll go having felt what it’s like to be on fire.
I try to form the word no, but my lips refuse to do it.

“And two,” he continues, his lips so close to mine I can feel them moving as he speaks. “I need to be close to you. If you don’t go—I won’t either.”

I’m afraid to move, afraid to break the contact that has brought my senses alive. The thing is I know he’s not trying to guilt me into going. He’s stating facts. He won’t go without me, and I doubt I could let him. But I have to think, need to keep my head before I lose myself, so I lean back in my chair to put distance between us. “Where in New York does your dad live?”

“Manhattan.” He sits back, blinking like he’s trying to form a coherent thought. “Also, we’ll make a pit-stop in Las Vegas on the way.

Once again, I can find no words.

He looks pointedly at my plate, then his watch. “Something wrong with your eggs? I swear I didn’t drug them.”

“You promise?” I clear my throat and take a bite, realizing Kye’s a decent cook. Although, I haven’t eaten for days, so it’s possible dirt would be delicious at this point. “Thanks. I didn’t realize I was so hungry.”

He watches silently while I shovel in every last bite. “Do you want more?”

I shake my head and lean on the table, gathering my thoughts. “Las Vegas?”

He stands to clear our plates. “Akers knows a guy there who might have the location of one of the missing Keys.”

Erda licks the crumbs off my chair when I follow Kye to the sink. “Does my mom know about this detour?”

“Um.” He shuffles his feet and looks at the ground. “What’s the right answer to that question? Can I please have a hint?”

I groan, staring at the ceiling. “Let me guess. You told her and her response was, ‘Sure, boy-I-don’t-know, go ahead and drag my daughter all over the country unsupervised. Don’t worry about a thing. Oh, but if it’s not too much trouble, try to use condoms when it’s convenient. I’m too young and hot to be a grandma.’”

Kye blushes. Even through my anger, his pink cheeks give me a warm buzz of affection. “I promised her we’d sleep in separate beds,” he says, “and swore on my life that I wouldn’t try anything like that. I’m supposed to protect you.”

“But she didn’t object to me going?” I scrub the dishes clean, working through the ache in hopes that a little pain will help me find some clarity.

“Hey.” Kye turns me around, offering the comfort of his arms. “What’s all this about?”

“I don’t know, I just ...” I lean into him, drawing strength from his solid chest. “Is she trying to get rid of me? She certainly deserves to have her own life, and now with Gram gone ...”

“Shh.” Kye strokes the top of my head and runs his hand down my back. Jealous, Erda rubs against our legs, whimpering. “She’s not trying to get rid of you. You should have seen her these past few days. She’s been in a tailspin.”

“Then why isn’t she here?”

“It costs money to buy herbs and groceries, and she had to work. Besides, she was making me crazy. Honestly, I think she needed some space. I wasn’t exactly willing to leave.” He pulls back to look in my eyes. “Abby, she doesn’t know how to help you, what to do for you. Without Isabelle’s guidance—she was terrified about what came next. Then I brought you home unconscious and compounded her stress by, like, a thousand percent. Akers came too, and we explained about your Gifts and my Gifts, and how there are more of us, and
that we all need to work together to help each other. Even though she didn’t understand everything we were telling her, she realized I can help you, and you can help me, and together we can find these Keys and stop the Dark Elen from whatever they’re planning. So, she agreed to let you go with me on the condition that I—ahem—keep it in my pants or risk losing it forever.”

The breath catches in my throat. “That’s all?”

“Her open threat—which was actually rather graphic—was the only birth control mentioned, I promise.”

Relieved, I let out the breath I don’t remember holding.
I can do this. I should do it.
“What now?”

“Pack whatever you need in a travel bag.” He gives me a gentle shove toward the stairs. “We have an hour.”

“We need to stop and say goodbye to my mom on the way.”

He grins, patting Erda’s head. “I’d be a dead dog if you didn’t.”

Halfway up the stairs, I pause. “The airport. We’re flying.”

“Yes, we’ve established this.” With a hand at the small of my back, Kye propels me to my room.

“How much ...?” I’m trying to recall my account balance. It doesn’t matter—it’s unlikely I can afford it.

Kye hands me the duffle I took to Yellowstone. “Don’t worry about the tickets. Just pack the essentials.”

“How long will we be gone?” I pause at my underwear drawer and motion for Kye to turn around.

“I don’t know. Two days? Four? Maybe a week. Pack light, though. We might have to carry everything at some point.”

Shaking with the enormity of what I’m about to do, I zip my bag and clasp a square-shaped pendant around my neck, glancing back at my room. “I guess I’m ready.”

He takes my things and leads me down the stairs, and as I do a quick doors-locked-stove-off check, I find myself anxious to be on our way. When I meet Kye at the front door, he fingers my necklace. “That’s pretty. What is it?”

“Alexandrite. Maybe it’ll help clear up some of the fog for me.”

“How does it change colors like that? One second it’s purple, the next it’s green.”

“Depends. Mood. What my body needs. Sometimes it’s lighting.” I fill Erda’s bowls with food and water. “Watch over Mom for me.”

Kye pats her furry head. “Is she a good watchdog?”

I squat down to hug her and scratch behind her ears. “Only if licking a robber to death makes a good defense.”

Erda only whines a little when I leave her inside and lock the door, but it gives me a sad pang just the same. Kye stows my duffle bag in the back of a black SUV and opens the door for me. “What does it mean when your necklace turns that purple-blue color it is now?”

I slide into the seat, my ribs throbbing again. “It’s giving me strength to take a risk.”

“Well, now, that’s handy, isn’t it?” Kye closes the door and walks around the car, as steady on the icy road as he was in the moving bus.
Oh, yeah. A big-enormous-giant-crazy-stupid risk.

“Are
  you okay?” Kye asks as he buckles his seatbelt.

Our plane—small as it is—has two seats on one side of the narrow aisle and one on the other. The airline staff includes two flight attendants and two pilots, because—I assume—it’s some kind of law that every airplane has to have at least two people on board who know how to fly the thing, and two to keep everyone calm if we go down.

I clear my throat and try to shake away my nerves. “Yeah. Why?”

“You seem a little ... off.”

“Really? A little off?” I snap. “Huh. And here I thought I was doing so well, all things considered.”

He freezes, glancing sidelong at me. “What’s wrong?”

I stare out the window as the attendant seals the door and the engines roar to life.
Don’t take it out on him.
“Sorry. I don’t mean to be a brat. I have a massive headache.”
Might as well admit it.
“And I’m sad. I feel like this is it, you know? Like I’m growing up and leaving home and nothing will ever be the same again. Ever. I didn’t expect it to come so soon.” My voice cracks on the last word and I turn my face away to hide the sheen of tears in my eyes.
This is not the time to turn into a crybaby.

“I’d love to lie and say you’re wrong, but I can’t.” His hand
caresses my cheek. “It’s okay to be sad, though. Some parts of growing up really suck.”

“Yes. They really do.” As the plane moves onto the tarmac, I do my best to get comfortable and close my eyes. I’m still so tired.

“Do you want some aspirin? I’ll ask the flight attendant for something.”

“It won’t help. The broken energy has to funnel out while the good energy stitches back together. This really isn’t the best day for me to travel.”

His fingers graze my cheekbone again and my heart stutters like it did on the bus. Then his lips touch mine—soft as the brush of a feather. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. “Go ahead and sleep.”

And I do.

The next thing I know, Kye’s shaking me awake. “Come on, Abby, time to change planes.”

My eyes pop open. “Where are we?”

“Salt Lake City. One more flight and we’ll be in Las Vegas.”

He looks so cheerful, so encouraging, I don’t have the heart to tell him that all Eric’s bad energy is about to find a way out of my body via my mouth. It’s a good thing we’re taxiing to the gate. As we disembark, the coolness of the breezeway soothes my nausea a bit. I breathe deep—taking in the winter air perfumed with airplane fuel—and will myself to hold in the contents of my stomach until we find a restroom.

Upon seeing the sign with the gray triangle lady, I bolt, leaving Kye calling after me. When I emerge several minutes later, I feel like a new woman. Not only have I expelled the majority of the bad energy that was causing me pain, I’ve washed my face and gargled an entire fifty-cent bottle of mouthwash from the dispenser.

“Feeling better?” Kye looks me up and down, as if inspecting me for defects.

I nod. “Lots. Do we have time to eat? I’m starving.”

His eyebrows crinkle together. “But you just ... I thought you were sick?”

“I was.” I dig into my purse, looking for my wallet. “Most of the bad energy’s gone now, but I need some protein to help finish the job. Another couple hours of sleep, a few more trips to restrooms, and I should be good as new.”

With an arm around me, he steers us to the nearest food vendor. “You bet. How do you feel about cheese?”

T
he lights from the Strip cast a festive glow in the dusky sky as the plane circles to land. We catch a taxi and head for the Luxor, where the guy we’re looking for supposedly works. Thousands of blinking lights wiz by, making me feel as if I’ve stepped into a time vortex.
Too bad I can’t go back to the night Gram died and undo everything.
“If this guy is Akers’s friend, why couldn’t we just call him? Why come all the way here for our answers?”

“Lan doesn’t think it’s safe to talk about this stuff over the phone. He’s probably right.”

The pyramid is built from blocks of black glass rather than Egyptian clay, and a bright light pierces the sky in a straight line from the top. Our driver stops at the curb in front of the entrance.

“Why didn’t he come himself?”

“Landon and this guy, Juri, had some kind of falling out,” Kye says. “He wasn’t sure the guy would talk to him.”

The line for the check-in desk winds around the lobby only feet away from tables where women in flashy mini-dresses sit next to men in T-shirts with poker chips stacked at their elbows. Egyptian symbols have been etched into walls, and another pyramid—a smaller version of the building in which we’re now standing—advertises an IMAX theater. We move with a strong sense of purpose, up an escalator, past the theater, and stop near a shop boasting a King Tut display to look closer at a board etched with fake hieroglyphs.