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Endless Knight (The Arcana Chronicles #2) Page 14
Author: Kresley Cole

Lips thinned, he’d said, “Ouais.”

I’d sliced. He’d winced.

“It’ll heal, Jack.”

“But it’s still got to hurt, no?”

Bloodletting always hurt like hell. I’d gritted my teeth, white-knuckling through the pain as I sliced my arms up and down. As my skin had healed, he’d watched, riveted. I was dizzy and chilled through by the time it was done.

He’d rubbed my shoulders for warmth. “So that is how you were making food for your mère.”

While we’d worked on the chute, Selena had been scouting the area for any holes to be plugged. Matthew had rested under a nearby overhang, almost obscured by a thick veil of water. Not far away, Finn had been practicing his illusions, with a wide-eyed Lark at his side.

I’d heard some of their conversation and had been delighted that he’d recovered his beautiful bullshit. “I’m not perfect, Lark,” he’d told her gravely. “Due to some self-esteem issues, I always put out on the first date. Working through that, though. Help me?”

She’d laughed, clearly liking him too. Maybe they did have some kind of infinity-symbol connection. It gave me a tendril of hope. If they fell in love, we’d have another pair of Arcana who would never hurt the other. One more stick of dyn**ite in the machine.

Normally I wouldn’t be thinking about hookups at a time like this. But these mini-alliances were critical.

Now Selena asked her, “What do you know about the game, Lark?”

“You want to talk about the specifics in front of a Muggle?” She hiked her thumb at Jack.

“He knows everything,” I assured her. “What can you tell us?”

“My family chronicled,” she said, buffing her claws. They weren’t like my thorn ones. Hers were narrower and curling, talonlike. Plus, hers never disappeared completely.

Selena gave a laugh. “Oh, really? See, I heard you got capped first in the previous game. Numero uno. When would you have had time to set up a centuries-old paper trail for your family’s descendants?”

Finn glowered. “Ease off, Selena.”

“No, it’s okay,” the girl said. “Granted, I know more about the current game, like what the big dogs are up to.”

“Big dogs?” I asked.

“The players with the most bite, like you and Selena. Like Death and Tess.”

“We met her. What do you know about her?”

Matthew muttered, “Bad cards.”

“She’s the World Card,” Lark said. “The fifth element. She was with Joules and Gabriel a week ago. They must’ve taken her on as an ally. Smart move on their part, since she can pretty much control space and time. One problem: the chronicler of her line dropped the ball, so she doesn’t understand why she levitates every time she sneezes. If she gets turned on, time races and stuff.”

Finn looked captivated with Lark, resting his chin on his hand as he gazed at her. “How’s that work?”

“Don’t ask me. I’m not a doctor or a quantum physicist.”

He and Lark laughed, but then her smile faded. “I shouldn’t poke fun. She looked like a sweet girl. Cried a lot though, and bit her nails till they bled. Not understanding your powers must be a bitch.”

It was. I remembered when I’d been in the same boat, wondering why plants responded to me. I felt for Tess, wanting to help her.

“But I’m sure Joules and Gabriel will get her up to speed about the game, if they haven’t already.” Lark pointed to Matthew. “The Fool’s got a big target on his back too. He knows everyone’s weaknesses and powers.”

Matthew blinked at her. “Arsenals.”

“And Evie?” Jack asked.

Lark turned to me. “The ones who understand the game want to keep you alive so you can take out Death. But there are some who don’t know better. And now that you’re worth a pair of icons . . .” She trailed off, eyeing my hand. “Well, it’s tempting.”

Two icons, mine and the Alchemist’s.

Jack covered my hand with his own. “It might be tempting—but it ain’t happening.”

She gave him a duh look. “Hello, we’re allies now.” Reaching into her coat pocket, she pulled out a laminated scroll, handing it to me.

I unfurled it, finding archaic writing on yellowed parchment, with grease-pencil notes.

“It’s a list of players with their formal titles,” she said. “I’ve written in the current names that I know and updated the losers.”

— The Players —

The Fool, Gamekeeper of Old (Matthew)

The Magician, Master of Illusions (Finneas)

The High Priestess, Ruler of the Deep

The Empress, Our Lady of Thorns (Evie)

The Emperor, Stone Overloard

The Hierophant, He of the Dark Rites (Guthrie)

The Lovers, Duke & Dutchess Most Perverse

The Chariot, Wicked Champion

Strength, Mistress of Fauna (LARK!)

The Hermit, Master of Alchemy

Wheel of Fortune, Lady of Fate

Justice, She who Harrows (Spite)

The Hanged Man, Our Lord Uncanny

Death, The Endless Knight

Temperance, Collectress of Sins (Calanthe)

The Devil, Foul Desecrator (Ogen)

The Tower, Lord of Lightning (Joules)

The Star, Arcane Navigator

The Moon, Bringer of Doubt (Selen)

The Sun, Hail the Glorious Illuminator

Judgment, The Archangel (Gabriel)

The World, This Unearthly One

“Where did you get this?” I asked.

“Off my fridge door. Kidding. Like I said, my family chronicled. I wager more players have died, but I only scratch off those I can confirm through the calls. I heard others clamoring when Spite got offed. It was early on. Don’t know who did it though.”

“The Alchemist”—I cleared my throat—“was named Arthur.”

She tilted her head at me. “Okay. I’ll update it.” Her eyes began to glow red. “Hold on, we pause for this public service announcement. . . . We’ve got about two more hours till showtime.”

Showtime. It sank in that we might all die tonight. Hell, Death had given me a week, and I was about at the end of it. If I only had a few more hours, I wanted to spend some time alone with Jack—and I wanted it badly enough to leave our cozy fire and head back out into the storm.

I mentally asked Matthew, Will you be okay with Finn for a bit?

—Empress is my friend. Finn is my friend.—

Yes, we are. I’ll be back soon. I’m going to talk to Jackson.

—He won’t like that.—

I begged to differ. I rose, offering Jack my hand as I murmured, “You and I should recheck the perimeters. Just to be sure there aren’t any early birds.”

He shot to his feet in an instant, grabbing my hand and his gear, announcing, “Perimeters are important.”

I tried not to notice when Selena glanced away, her expression stricken.

“Finn, you’ll stay with Matthew?”

“Matto and I are inseparable. Haven’t you heard?”

Matthew said, “Peas. Pod.”

At that, Jack hastily squired me outside, as if he thought I’d change my mind.

I could hear Finn chuckling. “Checking perimeters? Is that what the Louisiana kids are calling it these days? Hey, Lark, can I check your perimeter?”

Jack was already dragging me out into the night. I’d been dizzy, cold, and weak just moments ago, but as I gazed at him, excitement filled me.

I felt alive. . . .

14

He led me past one of the briar walls to the overhang where Matthew had sheltered earlier, and we leapt through that veil of water. Inside, it was like being cocooned from the world.

He shook his hair out in that way I loved.

“Aren’t you glad you stayed with us?” I asked him in a wry tone.

“It’s never dull.” He pulled me close, nuzzling my ear. “Miss you, peekôn. Been with you the entire day, so how does that work?”

God, I’d missed him more.

“I doan know about the new girl though. All I been hearing is how these players are supposed to kill you. But I bet you’re still thinking new friend, new ally, non?”

“Me? I’m not thinking new friend.” Okay, I might have been thinking new friend. She was funny. I liked her attitude.

“Hell, Selena was ready to off you without blinking an eye. You kept telling me you didn’t trust her. Now I know why.”

I frowned. “But she’s changed. She’s made up her mind to keep me alive.”

“Look, all we know for certain about Lark is that she’s got monster wolves to do her bidding. I doan trust her. Just keep it close to the vest, Evie. No need to tell her anything about us. You’re the best secret keeper I know.”

“Okay, I’ll try to learn more from her than I reveal.”

He nodded. “If this thing goes sideways tonight, I want you to run.”

I stroked the backs of my fingers along his jaw. “I’d never leave you in danger.”

“You mean that, doan you?”

“Yes. But if anything happens to me, I need you to take care of Matthew.”

“Doan you dare talk like that, bébé.” He gripped my nape, a move that was at once protective and possessive. “I’m not goan to let anything happen to you, no.”

“Well, don’t go leaping in front of bullets or anything. Remember, I regenerate.”

“What if you got shot in the head, like Bagmen?”

“I’ve wondered the same. But I think the Touch of Death is what I need to be looking out for.”

“He’s not goan to hurt you either. Not while I’ve got a breath in my body.”

When I shivered, Jack said, “I’ll start a fire.” He gathered some dry branches and kindling, arranging them near a shelf of raised ground in the back. With efficient moves, he struck his hunting knife against a flint, coaxing a fire to life. As it grew, he collected his sleeping bag from his pack, laying it atop that shelf.

Shadows danced, the air soon heating. We sat side by side, warming our hands.

The setting, the fire, the rushing water outside, the looming danger . . . everything was intense, primal. And at that moment, I felt as if I had been destined to end up in this place with this boy.

We felt fated.

He gazed down at me. “You know what we used to say about girls like you?”

I shook my head.

“You fall in love with your first.”

“Ah.” I bumped my shoulder into his. “Now I see why you pushed so hard to score with me that night by the pool. All becomes clear.”

His expression was serious. “I wanted you. Christ, I wanted you. But for a lot longer than a night. In my mind, if we slept together, we’d stay together. I needed that. I need that now.”

Sometimes it was so apparent that he’d been raised in a different culture, one in which a boy carried a girl’s things to signal possession to other beaux. “What gives you that idea about me?”

“Deny it, then.”

I’d never had a first, much less stayed with him. But if Jack was mine, I thought his theory would prove to be correct.

He raked his fingers through his hair. “Made me crazed when I heard your message to Brandon. That you were goan to let him have you.”

Little had I known that Jackson had stolen Brandon’s phone, had listened to my message.

“That was one of the reasons I was so angry when you came to my house that night,” Jack explained. “I figured you were already lost to me, but after what you saw there, I knew you were out of my reach. I didn’t act right.”

“That’s past. I’m here with you now.” I placed my hand on his knee. “Like you said, we can pick up where we left off.”

His body shot tight with tension.

I bit my lip. “Just in case we somehow live past tonight, do you, uh, have protection?”

“Ouais, and it’s from this century,” he teased, referencing our first ill-fated make-out session. “You sure about this? Last time . . .”

I cupped his face. “We could die tonight.”

Jack grinned down at me. “Now, hold on, Evie. You doan have to pull the last-night-on-earth con with me. I’m a sure thing.”

I grinned back. “So am I.”

I loved the flash of disbelief on his face, and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he registered this was going to happen.

Every reason I’d held back from hav**g s*x before had been eliminated. I was in a relationship with Jack, and I trusted him, so I knew I wouldn’t get nailed and bailed. Before Jack, I’d felt no curiosity about it or passion. Now I could barely wait to take this step. An added bonus: I loved the boy. Which he already knew.

So I daubed my tongue to my bottom lip, and he took the hint.

Light grazes of his mouth over mine turned to deep kissing. Without breaking lip contact, we yanked off our coats, fumbled off our boots, peeled off our wet jeans. He drew back only to grab the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head.

Once he’d removed his own, I gazed at his rosary. It was like Jack’s own emblem, his own symbol. Then I frowned at the tiny details around the cross, spying an engraved rose in the center.

Rosary. Rose-ary. Jack carried a rose as well. Again, that fated feeling swept me up.

When he laid me back, my hands flew to his chest. With utter delight, I began learning that damp skin, those rippling muscles, loving the way they leapt to my touch.

As I explored him, he stared down at me in my underwear, rapt. My glyphs were shimmering across my skin. “Mercy me, Evie.” He leaned in to kiss the one winding across my chest, following it with his lips. “These spooked me before,” he rasped against my skin. “But now I think they’re sexy. Everything about you is sexy.” He gave it a lick that made my toes curl.

“Hey, I-I’m sure you’re just mesmerized.” I wanted the rest of my clothes off, felt confined by damp lace.

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Kresley Cole's Novels
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