Vengeance (16 page)

But
has he?
 I open my eyes and look toward the area I know Bastien to lie.
He has not moved, has not groaned in his sleep.  
What
if Hyde is right?  What if a piece of my life has just been cut
out and tossed aside?  Would Kyan really do that to me?

Even as I ponder
that last question I know the answer without any doubt: yes, he
would, if he saw it as the right thing to do to protect me.

But protect me from
what?  Bastien isn’t a threat to me.  I’ve
known that from the very first time that I dreamt of him.  

Slowly my eyes widen
with dawning horror as I begin to remember small details from my
dreams.  Bastien atop a building beating relentlessly against a
practice dummy until his knuckles were bloodied and he was out of
breath.  Of him standing for hours staring up at Calisted from
his room with tears threatening to fall.  Of him refusing to
speak with Kyan because the pain was still too raw.  Memories of
him sitting alone at the base of a waterfall, his shoulders quaking
as he doubled over in tears.  Bastien does not seem like the
sort of man to cry easily.

“I
have truly lost her,” I whisper to the dark, remembering the
words spoken at the very end of the dream that awoke me on the
morning I decided to return to Calisted.  Those words cut deep
though I did not know why.  
Oh
God!  He was referring to me!

“You were
never supposed to know,” a voice calls to me from the dark.

I stiffen and know
that Bastien is awake.  “How could you keep something like
that from me?  What gives you the right to steal my memories?”

Bastien grunts as he
shifts.  It sounds like he is dragging his leg across the ground
in attempt to sit.  The room is not large, perhaps half the size
of the cell I shared on the D’Hatil ship.  The walls are
made of a smooth surface, cool to the touch.  It is a far more
welcoming feel than the heated metal bars of my former cage.

Night has fallen,
though it is unlike any night that I have ever known before.  There
is no light by which to see through the window.  No moon.  No
stars.  The canopy overhead blankets the compound, shrouding it
with utter nothingness.  

I can’t see
Bastien but a part of me is grateful for that.  If I can’t
see him then he can’t see the tears in my own eyes.

“I had no
right,” he whispers.  His voice sounds distant, strangled.
 “Only the hope that you could be happy.”

“Happy?”
I scoff and run my hands through my hair.  My fingers go no more
than an inch before they become tangled in snarls.  I drop my
hands into my lap, feeling defeated.  “If you knew me at
all, you would know the betrayal that I feel right now.”

He sighs, heavy and
long.  “And if you truly remembered me, you would know
that there was no other choice.  I couldn’t bear to watch
you suffer.  Not like that.  I saw the look in your eyes
when you knew Eamon was letting you go.”

“Letting me
go?”  I press my hand to my stomach.  The nausea that
swells there has little to do with my pregnancy.  “He
would never do that.  Eamon loves me.”

“Of course he
does.”  Bastien’s laugh sounds pained as he shifts
again.  “He fought for you, for the right to be with you,
but even he knew what the outcome would be.”

I lean forward,
desperate to see him now.  “And what was that?”

Silence falls
heavily between us for several moments.  I can hear him
swallowing, trying to control his breathing.  “He knew you
would eventually follow your heart.”

I shake my head, too
confused to be able to comprehend such a declaration.  “Everything
I have done for nearly two years has been for the good of my people.
 I gave up my home.  I gave up my life for them.  Do
you really expect me to believe that I would throw all of that away
for you?”

“Yes,”
he whispers.  I suck in a breath, shocked by the confident
response. No hesitation.  No pause.  “That is why I
asked Kyan to wipe your memories.”

“But…”
I blink rapidly, feeling as if the room has begun a gradual tilt in
the wrong direction, “but Kyan could never manage that.  Not
if I felt his presence in my mind.  He taught me how to shield
myself against such an invasion.”

“And would you
have ever stopped to consider him as one who would create such an
invasion?”

I open my mouth to
answer but it hangs open in disbelief.  Did I not already
acknowledge that Kyan would do whatever it took to protect me, no
matter the cost?   “No,” I finally answer,
clearing my throat.  I tug my knees closer into my chest,
feeling cold and weary.  “I trusted him with my life.”

I can imagine
Bastien nodding in agreement.  “You once did the same with
me.”

It is infuriating to
look into my past and wonder which memories are genuine and which
have been altered.  If what Bastien says is true, what Hyde
claims as well, then I can trust nothing from my past.

“Were we in
love?” I whisper.

“Yes, but it
was not meant to be.”

“Why?”
 I brush my hair back from my face.  As my hands trail
along my cheeks I realize they are moist.  I am crying.  How
can I just forget someone so completely when it is obvious from his
words that he was central to my life?  I can’t imagine how
I would ever choose this man over my husband and yet...there is
something undeniable about how protective I feel toward him.  It
goes far deeper than caring about him simply because it is my duty
to.

“It doesn’t
matter now.”  The sound of his legs sliding along the
floor reaches me and I realize that he must be uncomfortable with
more than just this conversation. His wounds have hardly begun to
heal.  It will take time.  I only hope that Drach will keep
his word in allowing Bastien the medicines he needs to do so.

But
at what price?  My children’s lives?  
Although
Drach did not come out and say it, his implication was clear.
 Bastien for my children.  That is the price to be paid.

“I have a
right to know.”

“Perhaps,”
Bastien agrees, “but what good would it do?  What’s
done is done.  You are married now.  Nothing can change
that.”

There, buried in the
depths of his words is a profound sadness that breaks my heart.  I
realize in this moment that despite whether or not I have any memory
of him from a time before, I care for him far more than I should.
 Drach was right to sense that about me.  

Is
it possible to love a man that you cannot remember?  Perhaps my
mind has forgotten, but I fear that my heart has not.

Realization dawns on
me and I lay my head back against the wall.  “That is why
you refused to accompany me on our honeymoon.  Why you asked to
be assigned to the outer rim.  You were trying to let me live my
life without you.”

“Yes.”

What
sort of man would be willing to go to such lengths for the happiness
of another?  I can’t fathom that sort of love and yet here
it sits only a few feet from me.  Suddenly I can no longer
remain seated.  I push up to my hands and knees and crawl
forward, blind but determined to find him. My chains clank in my
ears, sounding much louder in the stillness of the darkened room.

I use my hands to
feel about before me.  I move forward several feet before I
connect with him.  He cries out and I jerk my hand back. “I’m
so sorry.”

My hand is moist
from his blood.  I press it against myself, worried that I have
injured him.  “Are you alright?”

A breath hisses long
and slow from between his teeth.  “I’ve had worse,”
he responds.

“Oh?  Should
I do it again then?”

“No!” He
cries out.  I sense that he has thrust his hands out to defend
himself.  I chuckle and inch myself forward.  When he hears
my laughter he snorts and lowers his hands, falling atop of mine as I
slide in close to him.  His fingers flinch just before he pulls
away.  

“May I sit by
you?” I ask, finding myself holding my breath in case he should
say no.  A part of me feels as if his rejection would be more
than I can bear, but here trapped in the dark, terrified of the
unknown, I long to sit beside him.  To draw strength from him.

He shifts slightly
and allows me to move near.  I realize that he is positioned
near the corner of the room, propping himself against the wall for
support.  I turn and lean back, my shoulder only a few inches
from his.  I am careful not to move too quickly when I lengthen
my legs in case I accidentally bump him.  

I listen to his
breathing, slow and steady.  It is soothing.  “Thank
you,” I say after a time.

“For what?”
 I can tell that he has turned his head to look at me but it is
no use.  There is no light to see by.

“For
trying to keep me safe.  That didn’t work out too well for
either of us, but I know you tried.”

Bastien chuckles.
 His laughter cuts off with a loud hiss.  I feel movement
beside me and realize that he has shifted his arm to be able to
clutch his side.  “Guess it’s the thought that
counts, huh?” He mumbles through clenched teeth.

“Something
like that.”  I embrace the silence that falls between us
once more.  A million questions attack me at the same time, each
one feeling more pressing than the others but I hold back, knowing
that Bastien needs to rest.

“They are
coming for us,” he says.

Instinctively
I know that it is not the Roamers that he speaks of, but Eamon and
Kyan.  “How do you know?  We don’t even know
where we are.  How could they possibly find us?”

Bastien’s
hand flutters across to small space that divides us.  When he
discovers my hand he grasps it, squeezing tightly.  “I
know Eamon.  He will stop at nothing to get you back.

I feel warmth seep
back into my chest at the thought. Yes, he is right.  Eamon will
come for me and Kyan will bring an army with him.

I
curl my fingers around his, grateful for his presence.  I look
toward where I think the window to be and see no light still.  How
many more hours of night must we suffer before the day returns?  What
will tomorrow bring for me?  For Bastien?  Will Drach keep
me safe, protect me as long as he has an interest in my children, or
will we be placed back among the other slaves?

Instinctively I lean
in toward Bastien, pressing my side against him.  He flinches
but does not pull back.  I know that this position must bring
him pain but he doesn’t seem to want to move away.

“Will you tell
me how we first met?” I whisper to the dark.

“I’m not
sure that’s such a good idea,” he hedges.  I can
feel the tension mounting in his body and my heart goes out to him.
 Although the sting of his betrayal is still very fresh I
realize that the pain he endured on my behalf cannot be ignored.  I
can’t imagine giving up the one person I love so that they can
be happy with another.  I don’t think I have that sort of
strength within me, but he does.  

If I know nothing
else about him I will know that Bastien is a man who knows the true
meaning of sacrificing for love.  “Please.  I would
like to know.”

Resting
my head back against the wall, I close my eyes and listen to Bastien
slowly unveil our first encounter in the city, our showdown with
Drakon in the warehouse and how I saved his life that night.  None
of it sounds familiar to me and yet it feels right.  As he
begins to tell me of the time when he pulled me from the lake, frozen
and nearly drowned, my eyelids begin to feel heavy and I allow myself
to slip away, feeling safe for the first time since the night of the
attack.

I
awake the next morning, stiff and sore but surprisingly rested.  My
throat is still parched and my stomach continues to twist with
hunger, but I feel far more alert than the day before.  When I
open my eyes I see a soft white glow filling the room.  It is
only then that I see the red veins in the wooden walls and the straw
mat laid upon the floor.  There is nothing in this room apart
from us.  

No bed.  No
table.  No food.  A barren room.  

I rise and fall with
Bastien’s gentle breathing. Somehow during the middle of the
night we slumped to the floor together.  I look down and see
that his hand still clasps mine even in sleep.

In the light I can
see how extensive his wounds truly are.  None look life
threatening now but they do look gruesome.  I realized last
night that his jaw had been set before he was thrown into this room
with me.  It is a little thing but at least it is one less pain
for him to have to bear.

His right eye is
swollen shut, purple and angry looking.  A wide gash over his
eye has left a trail of dried blood down into his brow and then
trickled down his cheek.  His face is more bruise than anything.
 His lip is split and puffy.  His jawline is nearly black
from a blow that I’m sure left him unconscious.

The patchwork of
color seeps down into the collar of his shirt.  I dread to think
what I would find if I were to look beneath.  He smells of sweat
and the metallic tinny quality of blood.  His hair is matted,
clumped together with blood.  Some of it sticks to his cheek
where it dried overnight.

His
fingers are darkened with dried blood and some sort of black soot.  I
peer over just enough to realize that the black soot originates in
his palm.  
The
burn!  
I
lean in closer to inspect the wounded flesh from where he grabbed me
to prevent me from falling into the pit outside of Aloysius’
safe room.

I knew I should
have healed him completely.  I should have insisted.

“See what
you’re looking for?” Bastien asks.  A small smile
stretches along his lips as he stirs.  I push off the floor and
right myself, watching as he struggles to rise himself.  I
admire the stubborn pride that he possesses, refusing any help as he
props himself against the wall.