Unmade (The Lynburn Legacy Book 3) (8 page)

“Watching me sleep?” Kami asked.

“Trying to work out a way to get to your book without waking you up,” Jared returned, and grinned at her.

“I can tell when you're lying.”

“That's because you're a very talented investigative reporter,” said Jared, and leaned down toward her. He paused and checked himself as he did so, face hovering over hers, and Kami tried not to read too much into that hesitation.

She cupped the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair, and brought his mouth to hers.

She was not expecting the shiver that went through her like light through water, the shock of urgent joy that had her surging up against him, her fingers clenching on his hair and her heart racing: she was so, so glad he was alive.

Jared's arm locked around her waist for a moment, hand warm at the small of her back, pressing her against him. Then they rolled together in the tangle of sunlight and white sheets so her head hit the pillow, and he was arched over her, obviously trying not to rest his weight on her. There was still weight on her, heavy muscle pressing her down into the sheets, but Kami liked it.

Everything was warm except for his mouth, which was hot on hers, slow and hungry and searching. Kami had to remind herself to be careful not to touch his chest, where despite everything Lillian had done there were new scars, but she slid her palms from his neck to the smooth planes of his collarbone, the coiled strength of his shoulders and his arms, mapping out all the skin she could reach.

She stretched underneath him, stretched up to where he was arched over her, and he made a small sound, half exhale and half gasp, into her open mouth.

“Kami,” he said, voice low. He kissed her again, her mouth, her cheek and her chin, and then the side of her throat. She felt his lips curl, the smile pressed into her skin like a secret. “You once told me asking was sexy.”

“Yes?” said Kami.

“So … ,” Jared asked. “Can I?”

Kami looked at him inquiringly, her hand on his shoulder, fingers sweeping in a small continuous circle, a caress encouraging him to continue.

Jared kissed the hollow at the base of her throat, lips lingering on the spot. One of his hands left the mattress for the first time, to pull the side of her ruffled collar slightly open. He kissed the exposed skin and glanced up at her, a quick nervous glance through his sun-dusted lashes.

“Kami,” he murmured, and his voice scraped in his throat. “Can I?”

All the breath left her in a dizzy rush. “Are you sure?”

She thought she should check: she had never seen him sure before, not about touching her, but one corner of his mouth lifted as if he found the idea of saying no laughable. “Yes,” he said.

She was not sure what she felt: surprised and happy and curious and nervous all at once, but she did feel sure enough to smile.

“Yes,” she said in return.

He surged up to kiss her again, his smile against hers, and as he kissed her he undid the top button of her dress with shaking hands, and dipped his head down to kiss the newly bared skin. Her skin felt different than it ever had before, prickling with cool air and a wash of sensation, made new piece by piece.

Jared glanced up again. “Can I?”

Smiling felt as irresistible and necessary as breathing. “Yes.”

He undid another button, revealing bright pink pin-striped with darker pink and edged with a tiny line of purple lace, and kissed the curve just above where the lace rested.

“Can I?” he asked, and smiled against her skin again.

Kami looked down at his golden head, remembered her underwear did not match—it never did, not when it was important, it was one of life's great injustices that fate never lent a helping hand in the underwear department—and decided she did not care. “Yes.”

He undid another button, asked for and received murmured permission to undo another and another, until all the buttons were undone. Kami's sleeves slid down to her elbows. Jared kissed the rise of her stomach, directly under her belly button, and looked up at her one more time.

Sunlight filled the bed, edge to edge, so the tumbled sheets were brimming with it, warming Kami all along her body. Jared's hands rested on the curve of her hips, fingertips brushing lace with intent, and the warmth rushing over her transformed into currents of anticipatory heat. Kami looked down her body at what she had found in the sunlight: at Jared, his broad golden shoulders and crazily ruffled golden hair, eyes bright and dazzled looking at her.

“Can I?” he asked, and she could see his smile now, sweet and shocked, as if happiness was newly discovered treasure he had never suspected was there.

“Yes,” Kami murmured. Smiling was like breathing, utterly natural and impossible not to do. “Yes, yes.”

The thundering rain of blows on the door made them both jolt.

“Guys,” Ash said from behind the door, voice strangled. “I'm sorry, but
no.
”

Kami clutched her dress together, doing up her buttons with fumbling fingers. Happiness felt chased away like a scared animal.

By the time her dress was done up and she looked for Jared, he was off the bed and pulling on the folded shirt Martha Wright had left on the chest of drawers. He was looking away from her, jaw set and gaze intent on the door.

Kami scrambled off the bed as Jared stalked to the door and swung it wide open. Ash stood in the doorway, face red and shoulders hunched. Jared didn't speak to him; he shoved past him and walked off down the corridor.

Kami expected certain terrible behaviors from Jared, and right now she felt let down.

If you wanted something done, she supposed, you just had to do it yourself, so she walked over to the doorway and punched Ash hard in the arm.

“That was not an okay thing to do,” said Kami. “Ladies have needs!”

Ash hunched in farther, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He was really an impressive shade of scarlet: if he wasn't seventeen, Kami would have been worried about him having a heart attack.

She had been trying so hard to keep him warded off from her, to have that moment with Jared be a safe space. She was furious knowing that it had not quite been possible: that he had been there, like a cold stone in the bottom of a pool. Now that she had relaxed the vigilance of her bonds, she could feel what he felt bleeding through, feel the churning confusion of his emotions, embarrassment and humiliation and extreme discomfort among them. She could not blame him, even though she wanted to.

“I'm sorry,” Ash said in a small voice, and added in her head:
It was very weird and I didn't know what to do—

“Next time try humming,” Kami suggested. “Think about kittens or gym teachers or large helpings of mashed potatoes, I don't care. Just don't do that again.”

She was about to leave, but she looked at Ash's face again and remembered that she had promised herself to be kinder to him, when they got Jared back. He was her friend, and Jared's brother. Kami touched his arm, rubbing her fingers soothingly along the sleeve of his shirt. He looked at her, eyes very blue and very vulnerable, and she felt him reach out in her mind: she could not help sending comfort back to him.

It's all right,
she told him.
I'm not really mad. I'm sorry for
freaking you out. I know this is weird, but it's going to be all right.

“Weird generally ends up working out for me,” she added out loud, and went to find Jared, who could not have left the Water Rising, because he was in pajama bottoms and bare feet.

After searching the bar below, and the parlor, and the other guest rooms, Kami had to admit that if anyone was going to be lunatic enough to escape into the public streets in his pajamas, it would be Jared.

She checked again in the big bedroom where Lillian slept, in case he was hiding behind the four-poster or something.

He wasn't hiding behind or under the bed, but he was standing out on the little balcony, arms crossed over his chest. All you could see from the balcony was a brick wall and the gray square below where the Wrights kept their rubbish, but Jared seemed absorbed by the view. He didn't react when she came out to join him: he kept looking ahead, jaw tense.

It wasn't as sunny as it had seemed inside Jared's small room. February air slid into the thin material of Kami's dress like a sly pickpocket, warmth stolen before she knew it.

Anyone could go from seeming close to you to being distant, but it was always worse when it was Jared. She was so used to being close to him. He had been closer to her than if they slept cheek to cheek on the same pillow every night, closer than her own thoughts, for their whole lives.

Now was not an especially good time for Jared to seem so far away.

“Sorry,” Jared bit out. His focus on the brick wall remained intent.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Kami said. “Awkward situation. I think Ash is off to rock back and forth in a corner and seriously wonder how his life got to be this way. He's a sensitive plant.”

Jared nodded. “Might be better than stalking out to a balcony to wrap yourself in a cloak of bitterness and self-hatred like metaphorical Batman, though.”

“Or trying to make light of a situation with awkward constant jokes,” Kami agreed. “Whatever. Emotional health is for losers.”

She put out her hand, but he went even stiffer and she put her hand on the balcony rail instead, cold fingers curled around the strip of cold steel, and stared at the brick wall as well. They must look as if they were at a museum, admiring the brick wall art.

“When Rob—when he had me, he said some things I think we all need to hear,” Jared said. “We have to stop him. That's more important than anything else. I know that. You don't have to worry about me sulking over this or being a jerk to you or Ash.”

“What did Rob say?” Kami demanded. “Wait, let me get a notebook. No, you're right, we need to have a meeting. Okay, do you think we can get everybody assembled in ten minutes, or is it too soon when you're only just out of bed? Is this why you're sulking even more than normal?”

She turned to look at Jared, who had his back up against the glass door of the balcony as if he was expecting an attack. She could tell nothing from his face: as if he had been an open book and now he was shut, simple as that, and she did not know how to make it so she could read him again.

“Look,” he said. “I told you I was sorry. I didn't think about Ash, and how it was between the two of you now. I had other things to think about when I was at Aurimere with Rob, and then you came and—I guess I didn't want to think about it. But it's fine. I think it's going to work out for the best, in the end.”

“Are you talking about the link?” Kami asked. “You said you understood why I made the link with Ash.”

“I do understand,” Jared still wouldn't look at her. “It's fine. It was the right thing to do. He's a good guy.”

Ash was a good guy. Jared, however, was incomprehensible and impossible.

“It's fine,” Kami repeated.

“Yes,” Jared told her.

“You think it's going to work out for the best.”

“Yes,” Jared snapped.

Kami said, with slow-gathering fury, “But you're breaking up with me anyway.”

Jared looked at her at last. His eyes were wide and cold, reminding Kami of ice over the gray waters of the Crying Pools.

He said, “Did you really think we were going out?”

Kami's hands clenched on the balcony rail, hard enough so that pain lanced through her, palm to elbow. Enough, she thought, enough, enough: nobody was allowed to make her this unhappy. She didn't have to stay around him, any more than she had to keep her hand in a fire.

Kami heard him say her name, but she turned and walked away. She went home.

Claire's hours at the bakery and restaurant had meant she always left home early and stayed out late. Kami had not guessed how different it would be to know that her mother was not coming home at all. She realized that her mother's absence would fill the house, more noticeable than a presence. All four of them—Kami, her dad, and her brothers Ten and Tomo—were always looking to where she was not. Kami had no idea where Mum was, what she was doing, if she even still loved Kami at all.

Kami found her father sitting on the couch. He was not in his study, or even doing graphic design on his laptop: he was just sitting there, as if watching the blank black television. He looked helpless.

She curled up on the couch beside him, and laid her head on his shoulder. They sat and were heartbroken together for a little while.

T
he next day, they were all finally assembled in the Water Rising. To Kami's surprise, her father said he was coming with her. Martha Wright, who loved children, had agreed to watch Ten and Tomo while they talked, since ten- and eight-year-olds were seldom brilliant at plotting against evil.

The four of them walked through the quiet streets of Sorry-in-the-Vale, hands linked as if they might be separated from each other in a rush of people who were not there.

Kami saw curtains moving as they passed. She saw one woman lingering in the doorway of her house, as if she was a ghost who could not leave the place where she had died. When she caught Kami looking, she closed the door and shut herself away.

Nobody was panicking. There was just this sense of persistent, lurking unease: the lives of all the people in town faded so that they could escape notice, and Kami felt it would not be long until they faded away completely.

Everyone was talking in whispers, and it made Kami want to scream.

By the time they walked in, the parlor was already crammed with people. Angela and Rusty were on the sofa and looked prepared to defend it to the death.

Jared was sitting on the arm of Ash's chair, fully dressed. His eyes went to Kami when she walked in, but after one glance at him Kami looked away.

Lillian Lynburn, Ash's mother and Jared's aunt, the woman who still regarded herself as the Lynburn who should rule the town, was standing at the mantelpiece. She started slightly when she saw Kami's father; Kami was glad to see she still felt guilty about putting Ten in danger.

“Jon, Kami,” she said, and sounded slightly proud that she remembered both their names.

“It's Lydia, isn't it?” Jon asked. “No, don't tell me, I'll get it. It's Laini, I'm almost positive.” He went over to Angela and Rusty's sofa. “Move, you lazy brats,” he said, and when they made room for him he patted Angela's shoulder.

Holly was standing at the window with Henry Thornton, the sorcerer newest to Sorry-in-the-Vale, the stranger from London who had come to help them for no reason other than that Kami had asked. He looked worried as usual, but he was leaning against her a little, and she was smiling—at him, at Kami when she came in, and all around. Looking at Holly's determinedly sunny smile made Kami feel stronger.

There was no place for Kami to sit, but she didn't want to sit. She walked over to stand at the mantelpiece beside Lillian.

Lillian gave her a faintly quizzical look, down Lillian's aristocratic nose since that seemed to be the only way Lillian knew how to look at people, but she did not object to Kami's presence.

“Here's the situation,” said Jared. “Rob talked to me about his plans, and he said we had no idea what was coming.”

“Did he get any more specific than that?” Angela asked skeptically.

“He said,” Jared said, and hesitated, his voice changing. “He said, ‘So many people are going to die.' ”

There was a pause.

“I don't want to make jokes about people dying, since people actually are,” said Rusty. “But doesn't it sound like a fairly standard evil overlord speech? ‘Mwhahaha! You have no idea what you're dealing with, Mr. Bond! You have gravely underestimated me. You have no idea of the depth of my iniquity! Tremble, for you and all the puny forces of good will be utterly vanquished.' Et cetera, et cetera, megalomaniacal cackle optional. Does Rob have a cat to stroke?”

“He's not great with animals,” said Jared, mouth curling up at one side. “I take your point. But he seemed so smug, so sure. He told me I didn't understand yet. I really believed that there was something else he knew and didn't want me to know, but couldn't resist crowing about. When he was torturing me—”

Kami felt Ash's distress flicker through her, like a scarlet fish through clear blue water. “You don't have to talk about that,” Ash said.

“Wait,” said Kami. She remembered how Jared had perceived the goodness in Holly before she had; if he thought there was something more to what Rob had done or said, she trusted his instincts. “Rob once said, to Jared, when we were linked—”

Jared flinched, and the sudden movement caught her eye. They looked at each other for a painful minute.

Kami swallowed and continued, “Rob said that enough magic could do a lot of things. He said that it could make you live forever.”

Lillian raised her eyebrows.

“It can't,” she said sharply. “Theoretically, magic could do that once, but the whole town could submit to Rob, he could demand sacrifices four times a year for ten years, and he would still not have enough power to make himself immortal. It's not a reasonable concern.”

Lillian was the expert on magic, the sorcerer who had been trained to lead Sorry-in-the-Vale. Kami had only known that magic existed for a handful of months. She didn't know how to argue with Lillian, but she did know that she wanted to try.

“He asked for his first sacrifice on the winter solstice,” Kami said slowly. “Now he's asking for one on the spring equinox. You guys, you set up shop hundreds of years ago in Sorry-in-the-Vale because the woods and the lakes power your magic—”

“We are not batteries!” protested Lillian, but Kami waved a hand at her dismissively.

“And you get sick in the autumn, when the year dies,” Kami said. “It's all seasonal. He'll get more power if he does it on a certain day. He's willing to wait and wait until the right time. What's he waiting for? What does he want all that power for?”

“What do any of us want power for?” Lillian demanded. “To rule and to be feared, so your rule will be long.”

“There's a campaign slogan,” Jon muttered.

“But I am glad you assembled us all here nonetheless,” said Lillian. “I wanted to talk about magical power, in fact, and who has the most power among us: namely, the source and her sorcerer.”

She nodded to Kami and Ash. Kami met Lillian's eyes, regarding her dispassionately. She did not look over at Ash, though she could feel his flare of mingled worry and pride.

“What about us?” Kami asked, for both of them.

“Very few of our number can do magic now,” Lillian said. “I have mentioned before that I shared power with Rob, once, so he could complete a magical ceremony. There are ways of setting up a magical bond, between one sorcerer and another. The bond is …” Lillian set her teeth. “It is uncomfortably intimate, though not to the same degree as that between a source and a sorcerer. Given the choice, I would not engage in the link again. But we have few choices and little hope left now.”

Jon rubbed his forehead. “Please never become a motivational speaker, Lettice.”

Lillian was dressed in one of Martha Wright's knitted cardigans, but she wore it with the air of a queen wearing a mantle. She drew it closed now with an air of offended dignity.

“I don't believe in telling children comforting lies,” she said. “It lets them delay growing up. I wanted to lay all possible choices before my children, so they can decide what to do.”

She directed her coolly demanding gaze to Ash and Jared. Jared looked badly startled.

“I get to decide what to do as well,” said Kami. “Don't I?”

Lillian made a small face, as if she agreed that Kami got to decide but Lillian didn't have to like it. “It's Ash's decision.”

“If I'm the source, and he's my sorcerer, wouldn't his being linked to someone else affect me too?”

Kami had never laid claim to Ash like that before, and she felt a ripple of his surprise go through her, but she wanted to be clear and she wanted them both to be safe.

“Maybe so,” Lillian said. “All I know is, two sorcerers can share power, give each other power, and Ash has the most power of any sorcerer in Sorry-in-the-Vale right now. We need more power.”

“So you want to link up Ash and Jared to create some sort of magic nuke,” Dad said.

Rusty laughed. “Please come to all our meetings in future.”

Lillian's eyes narrowed. “I wouldn't call it that, but essentially, yes. Though Ash could choose to share power with me, or Henry, if he wanted.”

Henry and Holly looked about equally alarmed, but Holly got over it faster and patted Henry on the arm. Kami wondered how much Holly liked Henry, if she was scared for him and comforting him.

Kami did not have to look at Ash to know that he was the most alarmed person in the room.

“One of Rob's people told me,” Kami said, and bit her lip and hoped she was not going to seem as if she was discussing kinky magic threesomes in front of her father. “She said that Matthew Cooper, the source who was married to Anne Lynburn, that he—was, um, attached to both Anne and Elinor Lynburn. Could she have meant that?”

Kami felt betrayed when her father and Lillian both gave her the same narrow-eyed doubtful look. Matthew Cooper, and Elinor and Anne Lynburn, had lived in the 1480s; Matthew and Anne had both died young.

Ever since Amber had mentioned them, Kami had been sure there was something more to their story.

“Perhaps,” Lillian said eventually. “Matthew was Anne's source, and they both died. Elinor could have been using Anne's magic: she didn't die. She ruled in Aurimere for half a century. That's proof that one sorcerer sharing another sorcerer's magic will have no ill effects.”

Kami was not surprised that suddenly her speculations about people long dead were “proof,” now that they might get Lillian something she wanted.

“We have to think about it,” Kami told Lillian.

“This may be our only hope,” said Lillian. “Don't think too long.”

Lillian turned and left, the baggy back of her cardigan seeming to sweep behind her like a cape.

“I wasn't kidding. Someone really has to talk to her about her motivational speaking,” said Dad. “She's meant to be the town leader, isn't she?”

“She's the only adult sorcerer alive who isn't strictly evil,” said Rusty. “So she wins the crown by default, I guess. Unless Henry wants it.”

Kami supposed Henry was technically grown up, though he was only a couple of years older than Rusty.

“Your town seems very nice,” said Henry, in the tones of one being very polite when offered a large unwanted present that was on fire. “But I only just got here. I don't feel qualified to lead.”

“Okay,” said Dad. “So she's all we've got to work with, as Ash and Jared are both so extremely and tragically seventeen. Fine. So what we need to do now is get the town behind her. Worse politicians have been elected every day.”

“I don't think Lillian will be kissing any babies anytime soon,” Holly said doubtfully.

“Since she probably hates babies. And kittens. And rainbows and sunshine,” said Angela, who sounded like she had a certain amount of sympathy for Lillian's viewpoint.

“I'm going to have a talk with her,” Jon said, and got up.

“You're so brave, Mr. Glass,” Rusty told him soulfully. “You're everything I aspire to be when I grow up, in like ten to twenty years.”

“You'll never have my dashing good looks, Russell,” said Dad, and ruffled Rusty's hair before he went out.

Kami stood by the mantelpiece alone and watched everyone.

Holly was whispering to Henry, while Angela and Rusty whispered to each other. Kami knew that Holly and Henry were both living at Angela and Rusty's house, since Holly's family were on Rob's side and Henry was new to town, but she had not realized they were friends. She hoped for Angela's sake that they were nothing more than friends. Angela liked Holly so much; Kami was hoping Holly would not get a boyfriend until Angela was over her and maybe liked someone else.

Of course, Angela hardly ever liked anything or anyone, so that might take several years. Or a decade.

Kami felt a note of comfort, in the midst of the steady distress Ash was projecting to her. She looked over to see Jared clasp the back of Ash's neck. It would've been completely ordinary if it had been anyone else, but Jared did not touch people with casual affection often enough for this touch to be anything but noteworthy.

“You don't have to do anything you don't want to do,” said Jared, low enough so that Kami wasn't sure if she was hearing it or understanding it through Ash. “Your mom's not the boss of you.”

Ash smiled, rueful and charming. “My mom's kind of the boss of me.”

“Nope,” Jared said easily. “We time-share bossing you around, and it's my turn. I say do whatever you want.”

Kami could not feel what Jared felt anymore, but she could feel what Ash felt, all right: warmth and trust and wanting to be closer. Ash inclined toward Jared, but Jared didn't notice and took his hand away.

She knew enough to know that the choice about who Ash would link with was made—that it had never been in doubt.

But no matter what Lillian said, Kami thought it was going to end up more complicated than Lillian imagined. Lillian, after all, was the one who had suggested that everyone perform the ceremony at the Crying Pools to get them more power. Jared had almost died. All the other sorcerers on Lillian's side
had
died.

Kami thought it might be a bad idea to be any more tangled up with Jared than she already was.

They weren't going to have a debate about it now. Kami made for the door. She was in the passage that led to the room with the pool table when she heard Jared say “Kami” urgently behind her. His tone suggested that if he was anyone else, he would have caught at her elbow and stopped her.

In this instance, Jared was right about not touching. Kami didn't want to be grabbed. She preferred to choose, so she chose to turn around.

“I'm sorry about yesterday,” Jared said abruptly.

His hands were shoved into his jeans pockets; he was wearing ordinary clothes for the first time since they had taken him away from Rob, but he didn't look normal yet. His face was still thinner than it should be, strained in a way it had never been before. There were tiny new lines about his eyes, and there was something else about his eyes too: the haunted look of a child who had been hit and, worse, feared he would be hit again.