Epilogue
Cari lived in a dream.
Each morning she woke in a spoon of warmth, Mason’s strong arm around her. And as she turned into his heat, his calloused hands would begin to move over her, tracing lines of pleasure. He moved within her, whispering strange things, until she drew up tight inside and started her day shattered in bliss.
She learned to be calm when Fletcher made the most noise, and to seek him out when the kid went quiet for more than two minutes. She played in his tree house and always knew where to find him, even when his father could not. Fletcher’s umbra was always in her mind, trouble in the making.
She couldn’t worry about anything, though she tried. But the calculating parts of her mind, the Dolan parts, were sleeping. She knew that Zel had chosen to live with the family of her betrothed. And Stacia, who’d wanted a job, had found one working for Brand. The rest of the Dolan clan had their stipends and lived quietly. Humans did not like mages, though the greater danger was now coming from the fae. All that she put away. No more pain, please.
Sometimes the light was so bright and the wind so soft on Mason’s island that she couldn’t help crying, nor stop after beginning. And then she asked questions, among them, “If Dolan is gone, who am I?”
And Mason would surround her again until she didn’t care and her mind was at peace. She was a Stray. Or would be when he finished his making.
“It’s not going well,” he said one day, dropping into a chair across from her at the dining table used for everything but dining. Between his thumb and first finger was a princess-cut diamond. Five carats, if she had to guess. Scarlet’s had been about that size, but Cari’s mind wouldn’t go there either.
She had an idea what the stone was for, though she was living that fantasy already. “Not going well?”
He shrugged and sighed, obviously tired after hours in his shop, but there was a gleam behind his eyes. Trouble. Like father, like son. She smiled.
“I’ve been working on your ring and on the Umbra project.”
Umbra. DolanCo. The asleep part of her got darker, more knotted.
Mason did that sometimes. Nudged her in uncomfortable places. And he watched her, as if he were studying her again.
“Umbra is coming along. I actually tried your father’s membrane.”
More uncomfortable words. She let them slide right through her. Held on to her peace. Because if she let go, she might crumble, just like—
“Then I tried to apply the technique to your diamond. I wanted a way to somehow bind us together”—his gaze sought a little more deeply into hers—“and I thought the diamond would be a good way to do it. You know, our future.”
Why did he push her? He had to know that they were already bound. Couldn’t he just let them go on like this? Happy?
“I’m pretty sure instead that I made a ward stone.”
Ward stone. Blackness flashed in Cari’s vision. Maeve killing Scarlet. Mason’s bloody face. The cries from her sisters. A scream rose in her own throat. “Is it—?”
He reached out and put his warm hand on hers. “No. You’re not connected to her anymore. You’re in that stone, but connected to me. Try though I might, Fletcher actually has eluded me. Probably because he’s got Walker blood.”
Mason’s words were full of hurt, so Cari turned her hand over, palm up, to squeeze his back.
“So I have a Stray ward stone,” he said. “It’ll be pricey to get the five others I’ll need to match it.”
The darkness in her mind was loosening, her breath coming faster. “If you have a ward stone, you aren’t a stray.” But it was an afterthought, because something in her brain was turning.
Money wasn’t an issue. She thought quickly of the DolanCo spreadsheets. The number at the bottom, in black. There was more than enough for ward stones. Safety. House. Ward stones were priceless.
A shiver ran over Cari as she touched the stone with her finger—how had she not noticed that part of her umbra had been captured inside, twined with Mason’s?
She felt it now. Felt it now like a lifeline she could follow back to life.
“If not ‘Stray,’ then what will our House be called?” Those watchful eyes of Mason’s were on her. Had been searching. Had found her. He’d never let her go. He was even now asking, “Are you still with me?”
Yes. Always. She’d just been sleeping for a while.
“Maker.” Cari drew a deep breath. A waking breath. “We will be Maker House.”
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2013 by Clarissa Ellison
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ISBN: 978-1-4201-1898-8
eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-3270-0
eISBN-10: 1-4201-3270-9
First Electronic Edition: September 2013