Prophecy: Dark Moon Rising (16 page)

He mumbled something and she went to him, pressing her hand against his cheek. He was freezing cold. Grabbing the blanket from underneath his feet at the bottom of the bed, she placed it over him. Her fingers idly smoothed the creases out of the warm material while she looked at him. He was still pale. His lips were almost as white as his skin, which was a stark contrast against his raven hair and the black sheets. She wondered what kind of battle was being waged inside of him and what the outcome of the spell would be if she couldn’t stop it. If Elena had wanted him dead, she would have simply killed him, not gone to lengths as elaborate as this. This was something else, and Prophecy got the distinct impression she didn’t want to find out exactly what Elena’s plan for Valentine was.

She glanced at the book again. So far her patience had held and she’d managed to control her anger where the tome was concerned. Several attempts to open the book had ended with her breaking down in tears, but it didn’t take her long to recover and get back on her feet again, thinking of another way to get into it to see if it contained the cure she needed so badly.

The air in the room felt stale. The more time she spent in it, the more the walls began to feel as though they were closing in again. She wished that she could let some air in, but with the sun still up, she couldn’t risk it. Even changing out of her ball gown hadn’t improved how she felt. The dress lay over the back of the armchair on the other side of her desk. The loose fitting combats and black camisole top she now wore had made it easier for her to pace the room and her heavy boots had given her a rhythmic sound to focus on, but they had done nothing to improve her outlook. She’d washed her face countless times in an attempt to freshen up, but she still felt groggy and bewildered.

Serenity had left her shortly after dawn to attend to their new arrivals. During the night, Venturi’s men had arrived. She’d heard reports that there were two-dozen of them. She didn’t know who they were as she hadn’t attended to them.

Apparently neither had Venturi.

She closed her eyes and reached out with her senses. He was still where he had been for most of the night—standing sentinel outside her door. It was a clever move on his part. He was so close to her, but far enough away that she didn’t feel crowded. If she wanted him at any given moment, she only had to move a few feet and open a door. A single look would be all it would take to tell him he was needed.

His proximity had another affect too. It soothed her. She knew he was only there because he felt compelled to be close by in case she needed him. He probably didn’t realise the comfort it gave her to just have him there waiting. All she had to do was extend her senses a fraction and she could feel him. His constant presence and steadfastness was more calming than any words he could have said to her.

She looked at Valentine. He was still her pillar of strength, still everything she needed in order to win this war and fulfil the prophecy, but she couldn’t draw on his strength right now. Valentine needed all his strength for himself so Venturi had taken his place, becoming the stalwart one that she relied on to guide her when she couldn’t deal with something.

She couldn’t deal with this.

She knew that locking herself away in her room wasn’t the right way of dealing with it, but she couldn’t face her family or Valentine’s right now. She’d heard Xavier speaking to Venturi throughout the night and it seemed that what little progress had been made at the dance, had been undone when Valentine had become sick. Without him to command them, there was a chance that the Aurorea would revolt against him. She had to somehow retain control of them as well as her own bloodline.

Was she strong enough to do that?

Opening the door, her eyes settled at first on Venturi. He immediately turned around to look at her. His face reflected how tired he was and she wished that he would sleep, but she didn’t ask him to. Her heart told her that he would refuse. It was best she let him do as he pleased and didn’t push him. Besides, she wanted him to remain close in case anything happened.

Her gaze moved to Xavier. His hand was on the hilt of his sword. Each time she’d emerged from her room during the night and day, he’d always looked the same—a dark look on his face and his hand on his sword. It had told her everything she needed to know about him. He had accepted Valentine’s command of their bloodline and he would defend his new lord to the death. The other guards had a similar look whenever she’d chanced a glance at them.

“There is no improvement and it is getting harder to make him sleep. I don’t think we should send the Aurorea home, but I’m sure they’re becoming restless. If they wish to hunt tonight, let them, but warn them that they must return here.” She leaned against the doorframe as tiredness swept through her. The sun was starting to sink but its power over her was still strong enough to lure her to sleep. She fought against it, telling herself that she had to maintain a constant vigil over Valentine and find the cure. Any wasted seconds could mean she lost more than time.

“They will return here without the need to warn them. They are not pleased to be trapped in the house of Caelestis, but they are not fools enough to think they’re safe at our family’s mansion. They saw what happened to Lord Valentine. They know a similar fate awaits those who stray too far from you.” Xavier smiled and held his hand up. One of the guards moved away from the wall and came to him. “Gather the patrols and our family. Tell them that those wishing to hunt will have to do so as a group. They will be escorted by any of the guards that we can spare. Send word to those left at the mansion to be on alert. This witch we encountered last night is powerful. She is not to be trusted.”

“Or fought,” Prophecy added. “Tell them not to fight her. Flee if they meet her. Get word back here. I will deal with her.”

The guard nodded and turned away from her. She gave one more glace to Venturi and saw he was still watching her, and then went back into her room. Closing the door again, she looked at Valentine and then went over to the book.

She traced her fingers over the patterned front, wishing it would give up its secrets and open for her. Her eyes closed when she felt the power in it. It seemed to move between her amulet and the book, ebbing through her body as though she was only a conduit for the magic inside of her and it was communicating with the magic inside the book. She wished she knew what it was saying.

Running her hand down the side, the pages gave slightly under her touch but the book still refused to open. She picked it up and looked at it, staring at it until her eyes lost their focus.

There had to be a way in. Forcing it wasn’t going to work, she’d already proven that. It was magically locked, which meant at some point it’d had a key. The amulet did nothing to open it, so it couldn’t be that, and it was the only key that she could think of.

Or was it?

She stared at her hand and her eyes travelled downwards to her wrist.

Her blood was a key.

Biting into her wrist, she didn’t stop to think about what she was doing. If there was the remotest chance it would work, she’d give every last drop of blood she could spare to the book.

She held her wrist above the book and watched the crimson spill from the wound. It trickled steadily onto the cover and she waited, staring at the book and holding her breath while she silently willed something to happen.

Her eyes widened when the blood that was on the cover leached into it, disappearing, and the magic sealed the cut on her arm.

She waited to see what was going to come of her gift of blood to the book.

After a minute, she realised nothing was going to happen.

Her temper frayed and she growled at the book, her fingers tightening around it so much that her knuckles turned white. She shook it violently in her hands, muttering a string of obscenities at it that only made her feel even more frustrated, so much so that she screamed and threw the book across the room. The force of its impact made the wall shudder and the ornaments on the table near it shake. She flinched when it hit the floor with a heavy thud that she felt in every bone of her body.

A chill swept down her spine and along her arms, disappearing when it reached her hands.

She felt as though she’d been thrown against the wall.

She glared at the book.

“Fine!” Storming across the room, she grabbed it and carried it back to the table. She slammed it down and then punched it. Her chest ached as though someone had hit her. “Oh … so that’s how it is? I give you blood, and you use it against me.”

Burying her fingers into her hair, she wished that she could sleep or call her mother to her. Her mother would have the answers she needed. The only visions she’d had recently were of a strange house and Valentine killing her. It made a change from repeatedly seeing herself killing him, but it was still something that she could live without.

Walking over to the bed, she sat down beside Valentine and heaved a sigh. She cleared the hair from his forehead and smiled at him when he twitched in his sleep, the corner of his mouth curving into the tiniest fraction of a smile. She pressed a kiss to it and then curled up against him, closing her eyes and holding him. It felt as though she was cuddling up to a dead person or a statue. His skin was clammy and cold, his body hard and motionless. Taking a deep breath, she breathed in his comforting scent and held it inside of her, trying to put to memory precisely how it made her feel—safe, loved and calm.

“I’m sorry I haven’t found a cure yet,” she said to his chest and then craned her neck so she could see his face. Her eyes traced his noble profile, moving over his fine brow to his straight nose and soft lips. She wished that she could lift her spell and have him look at her, but she couldn’t risk allowing Elena’s spell to take hold of him. He was fighting it, but it was only a matter of time before he lost what little strength he had left, and she didn’t know what was going to happen then. “I’ll find a way to save you, once I’ve found a way into the book.”

She ran a finger down his forehead and over his nose, following the line of his profile. He stirred a little and frowned, his eyes opening briefly but long enough for her to see the green of them.

“Valentine?” she whispered, not wanting to startle him.

He moved his head and looked at her. She smiled.

“So cold,” he said with a sad look in his eyes.

“I know … it’s hard, but you have to keep going. You can’t let her win. I can’t lose you.”

He gave her the slight smile of his that was such an intrinsic part of who he was and then closed his eyes again when she pulled the covers up over him and tucked them in.

“I’m sorry I can’t let you stay awake.” She ran her fingers over his cheek and brushed her thumb across his lips before bringing her hand down to his heart. “Sleep … be still. Rest a while and save your strength.”

Her amulet glowed bright red as tears filled her eyes and her brows furrowed. Her lower lip trembled and she breathed out shakily, trying to steady herself and stop herself from crying.

The mark over her heart ached and burned with a fire that was stronger than she’d ever felt before.

It feared.

She shook her head and buried her face in his neck, clinging to him.

“I can’t lose you.”

Closing her eyes, she held onto him as though by that physical act alone she could stop him from slipping away from her.

She didn’t know how long she’d been holding him before she heard the door open and sensed someone enter. She slowly opened her eyes and saw the room was darker now. Serenity moved into her field of vision and opened the curtains, lifted the sash, and let the cool night air in. Prophecy breathed deep, letting the freshness of it fill her and chase away the tiredness in her body.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Serenity said with a concerned look.

“I wasn’t asleep,” Prophecy said and sat up, rubbing her hair and looking at Valentine.

“Venturi says you haven’t moved in three hours.”

Her eyes widened. “Three hours? Impossible. I wasn’t sleeping … I was … I don’t know. I was just laying there seeing nothing, feeling nothing…”

“I don’t think it’s nothing that you’re feeling.” Serenity pulled a chair out from the desk and sat down. “You’re scared … it’s understandable. You’re tired too, and pale. Get some fresh air and get out of this room for an hour or two. It might help.”

Prophecy considered what Serenity had said. She was getting tired of being shut in the room and some fresh air and space could help her think of a way to get into the book, but she didn’t want to leave Valentine. Her eyes roamed back to him and she sighed.

“I can’t,” she said.

“I can watch him. Staying cooped up in here isn’t going to do you any good, Prophecy. You need a change of surroundings.” Serenity’s lips broke into a smile. “Besides, I think Venturi could use a couple of hours break. He hasn’t been to see his men once since they arrived. People are starting to talk.”

Prophecy frowned. Talk about what? She gave Serenity an unimpressed look when it dawned on her. The two houses were beginning to wonder exactly how many people were involved in a relationship with her. One was enough trouble. She’d never be able to handle two. It wasn’t her fault if the houses were getting the wrong impression. She hadn’t asked Venturi to stand outside her door, constantly waiting for her. But then she hadn’t asked him not to either.

She looked at the door, sensing him on the other side with the three Aurorea guards.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him to go away, not when he was there because he was worried about her.

“I’m sure that Valentine will be fine with me. If anything happens, I’ll get word to Venturi straight away and he can find you.”

Prophecy didn’t like the way that Serenity had suggested that Venturi would be able to track her down the quickest, faster than herself or Tiberius. She sighed and took hold of Valentine’s hand.

“He could use some blood to keep his strength up,” she said and then looked at the small wooden box on the bedside table. “He shouldn’t wake up, but if he does, there’s a syringe in the box and a drug that will knock him out for a few hours.”