Heart of Stone (5 page)

"Don't be." He drew her mouth to his and kissed her until she'd almost forgotten about her guilt. At last, he pulled away and gazed up at her with sad eyes. "Thank you for this night, Kestrel. Thank you for coming back. You can't know what it means to me. It's nearly dawn, though, and I must go."

She nodded and got to her feet. She gathered her clothes and dressed with her back turned toward him, so he couldn't see the heartbreak in her eyes. She thought she'd stay like that until the sun rose, so she wouldn't have to say good-bye, but as she heard him climbing back up onto the pedestal, her heart seemed to leap into her throat.

"Wait." She spun and ran back toward him.

"I can't. There's no time."

She climbed up with him and pulled his mouth against hers for a firm kiss. "Think about me," she whispered.

He stared at her. "What?"

"Think about me, Damaris. Don't try to forget me. Think about me coming back next year."

His face twisted with a heartbreaking expression of pain and hope. He started to speak, but before he could say anything, the sun's edge slipped above the horizon, and once again, he turned into cold, hard stone.

* * * *

Once again, months passed, although there were times Kestrel didn't know how she could manage to endure them. She missed Damaris fiercely, not the yearning for his heat and excitement that she had felt the previous year, but a yearning for his gentleness and laughter and quiet conversation.

She took to visiting the cemetery almost daily. At first, she had come because the ache of loneliness had filled her and she'd needed something to ease it, but the sight of him on his pedestal, frozen and lifeless, had been more than she'd been able to endure. She'd fled from the cemetery, gasping with pain.

She returned a week later, steadier and better prepared to withstand the sharp stab of pain at the sight of him. She'd apologized for leaving, and climbed up with him to curl into his arms. She spent the last hours of the evening there, crying quietly against his chest.

She spent the next evening in his arms also, but she didn't cry again. The next, she'd begun a slow, hesitant monologue about the events of her life. She didn't know if he could hear her, if he was aware of anything beyond his stony prison, but she told him anyway. It made his absence easier to bear.

She brought the cat and let him climb all over Damaris until he found a spot he liked and curled up there, peering down at Kestrel from between Damaris's thick, curved horns. Kestrel had howled with laughter and apologized to Damaris for any indignities his ego may have suffered at the treatment.

When life calmed down and she found herself with little of interest to tell him, she began to bring books to the cemetery. She read aloud to him, flamboyant tales of battles and adventure. Since he longed for interest to ease the monotony of his imprisonment, she thought he'd like them the best. After she'd exhausted the offerings of her home library, she read him poetry. A few times, she'd brought a battery-run CD player with her and had played a small sampling of music for him.

As the night of Damaris's freedom approached, Kestrel grew unbearably anxious. The sun began to set on All Hallows' Eve and she found herself standing frozen in her room, staring at herself in the mirror. Part of her thought it was immeasurably silly to spend so much care on her appearance and outfit since Damaris would only strip it off of her and cast it aside for the night. But the rest of her couldn't stand to go to him looking anything less than her best. She settled for a compromise. She applied a light layer of make-up and donned a slinky dress that enhanced her best attributes and, conveniently enough, would also be a snap for her to get out of. She took a final look at herself in the mirror, squinting against the reflection of the dying light, and finally deemed herself ready to leave. She spun toward the door, and quickly rocked back on her heels, startled. Amber stood in the doorway, one arm braced against the jamb, a small pout turning down the edges of her mouth.

"What kind of Halloween costume is that?" she demanded.

Kestrel blinked at her. "I'm sorry?"

"Look at you." Amber waved a hand to indicate the entirety of Kestrel's body. "Kate told you that this was a costume party, didn't she?"

"Er, yes." A blush heated Kestrel’s cheeks. "Look, Amber, I'm not—“

"Oh, whatever." Amber grabbed her hand and dragged her down the hallway. "We can say you're a lady of the night, or something. You know, a courtesan?" She peered over her shoulder at Kestrel, surveying her critically. "I think they'll buy it. Come on, we'll be late!"

"Amber, wait." Kestrel dug her heels in at the front door. "I'm not going to the party."

Amber turned back to her with a bewildered look. "Of course you are. We're all going."

"Not me." Kestrel stepped backward toward the house.

From behind her, a pair of hands settled on her shoulders and pushed her forward. "Of course you are," Dan said firmly.

"No—“

"Damn it, Kes," Amber said. "For two years in a row now, you've ditched us on Halloween. I don't see what could be so much more important than your friends." She opened the car door, and Dan gave Kestrel a small shove inside. Amber glared at her stubbornly. "You're not ditching us again."

They manhandled her into the car, while Kestrel struggled, swore, and lashed out with elbows, knees, and heels, digging them into whatever she could manage. They evaded her attacks and stuck her in the middle of the back seat, flanked by Eva on one side and Brad on the other.

"Honestly, what's your problem?" Amber demanded, frowning at Kestrel over the back of her seat. "You used to like going to these parties with us."

Kestrel opened her mouth to respond, but snapped it shut without saying anything. Even if she tried to explain about Damaris, they'd never believe her. "Forget it," she muttered.

"Oh, this is going to be so much fun!" Eva squealed and bounced in her seat. "What are you dressed up as, Kes?"

Kestrel sank low in the seat, glowering through the windshield and resisting the urge to wring Eva's perky little neck.

They drove for what seemed like ages, and Kestrel's mood only grew bleaker and more desperate. Each mile that passed beneath their tires was another mile further from Damaris. Each minute that slid by on the clock was another minute closer to midnight, another minute closer to dawn.

Dan eased the car to a stop behind a line of other cars. Kestrel saw her chance and took it. She threw her seat belt off and lunged across Eva's lap, ignoring the other girl's yelp. She threw the car door open and dashed across the street to the bus stop at the corner. Once she'd reached it, she clung to the pole as though it offered her salvation and watched the uproar her escape had caused in the car. Eva stared through the rear window at her in shock, and Dan's face twisted with anger, but to Kestrel's intense relief, they continued forward at the green light and disappeared down the street. She dropped onto the bus stop bench with a lengthy sigh.

More minutes passed by, and Kestrel watched every one of them disappear while the hands of her watch circled around the face. At last, a long bus approached from down the street and came to a noisy stop in front of her. She leapt to her feet and took the steps into the bus's interior at a run.

"Are you going to Galesburg?" she demanded, clinging to the handrail with her heart in her throat.

The bus driver looked her over with a skeptical frown. He quirked an eyebrow, shrugged, and nodded. "Yes."

Oh, thank God. Kestrel fished a dollar bill out of her purse and passed it to him. She collapsed into the first seat and dragged her hands through her hair, fisting them at her nape. The driver closed the door and resumed their lumbering pace along the route.

More minutes passed, and each one felt like an eternity. The quiet tick of her watch sounded deafening to her ears, and each second wore on her nerves. She gripped the handrail and pressed her forehead against her fists, swallowing the desperate screams that welled up within her.

Midnight passed. Its approach weighed down on her, and when she glanced at her watch for the hundredth time and saw the minute hand angled just beyond the mark of twelve, she had to press her fist to her mouth to stifle the frustrated sobs.

The driver gave her a dubious look over his shoulder. "You okay, miss?" he asked. "You look a little...tense."

"I'm fine," Kestrel whispered unsteadily. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. "I just need to get to Galesburg, please."

"Well, it's a long route, miss. It'll be another hour, at least."

Black despair crashed over her, caught her in its violent undertow and dragged her under until she drowned in it.

Somehow, she endured the interminable ride, although by the end of it, her heart hammered so hard she was half certain it would tear itself free from her chest, and the tension that had insinuated itself through every muscle left her a quivering, raw mass of nerves.

At last, the driver brought the bus to a stop, opened the doors, and announced, "Galesburg, L Street and Fifth." Kestrel leapt to her feet, jumped down the steps, and tore across the street without a backward glance.

She threw the gate open and ran to the back of the cemetery where Damaris waited for her. She clambered up onto the pedestal and clung to Damaris, sucking in great, sobbing gasps of air. She opened her penknife with hands that trembled, but fumbled and dropped it in surprise at the feel of him already warming against her touch.

Kestrel stared up at him, confused, then at her hand, still clean and unblemished. How...?

A trace of old conversation drifted through her memory.

I can be summoned many ways... by strong emotions...

A bubble of delighted laughter rose within her. She pressed her hand to her mouth to contain it and leaned in against Damaris as he softened against her. His arms wrapped around her and held her gingerly against him. "You came," he said softly, in a voice tinged with awe and wonder.

"I said I would, didn't I?" She dashed tears from her eyes, but more dripped down her cheeks.

"Yes." He spoke carefully, like he wasn't certain. "But it's so late. Kestrel, we've lost so much time."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close, shuddering against him. "I tried. Damaris, I tried, but they—“

"Shh." He tucked a knuckle beneath her chin and tilted her face up toward his. For a long moment, he simply stared down into her eyes. Finally, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. "I'm glad you came. I heard you, you know. All those days, when you came and kept me company. I heard you."

She stared up at him and blinked tears out of her eyes. "You did?"

"I did." He carefully tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I can't thank you enough for that."

Her heart swelled until it threatened to burst. Another cascade of tears welled within her eyes, blurring her vision. She wiped them away, wanting every chance she had to see him alive and mobile before the curse claimed him for another year. "I didn't want you to be lonely," she whispered.

"I wasn't with you here." His hands skimmed over her shoulders, left bare by the dress. Heat rose within her at his lingering look. He met her gaze again, and the frank approval she saw there made her flush. "You are so beautiful, Kestrel. I wish I could..." He trailed off into a thoughtful silence and left his wish unspoken. His hand rose to trace a feather-light caress along her arms. She shivered and stepped closer to him, letting his heat wash over her and dry her tears.

He knelt in the grass before her and gazed up at her with a rapt expression. His palms slid up her legs and pushed the dress's edge up. He kissed each inch of flesh that he bared, starting at her knee and creating a meandering path up the inside of her thigh until she quivered for him.

His breath brushed through the curls between her thighs. She yearned for the touch of his lips upon her, but he left her unfulfilled. Instead, he kissed the base of her stomach and continued up to her navel. He inched the dress higher, far enough to bare her breasts; Kestrel stretched her arms overhead so he could draw it off completely. He cast it aside and brought his hands to the small of her back, urging her towards him.

She let her hands fall gently on his shoulders as he suckled at her breast. His lips and tongue made small movements on her flesh that had much larger repercussions on the writhing mass of heat that gathered between her thighs. A soft sound passed her lips, and she pressed herself into his mouth, urging him to continue.