Page 52 of The Rowan
My mind is ticking over the facts I know so far. I grab a piece of paper and a pen to write down my thoughts—the MacAllisters, Amelie’s mixed Fae and witch heritage, the likelihood of the Santiagos having mixed shifter and witch heritage, the tapestry and thorn bowl, the power the light has over the dark, and the beliefs the witches have about power and purity.
I still feel like I’m missing part of the puzzle—my part. I sigh and realize the only option is to go through with the placement ceremony. It’s the only way I’ll know where I fit in this fucked up ball of yarn. I stand and stretch. There’s only one item left on my to do list. I stroll out of the room to find Daire.
He responds immediately to my text with his location and directions. I haven’t been to his room yet, so this should be interesting.
I open the door, then immediately close it. I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. My eyes scan the hallway for another door, but one doesn’t appear. With a frown, I reach for the doorknob just as Daire opens it from the other side.
“What are you doing?” he asks, staring down at me.
While Theron and Astor are only a couple of inches taller than me, I realize that Daire is about five or six inches taller. Not quite as tall as Valerian or Fallon, but enough to make me feel less like an Amazon.
He smiles hesitantly. “Arden? Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“What?” I say, snapping out of my daze. “No, this is good. Thank you.” I wait for him to invite me into his room—his pitch-black room. If this was Astor’s room, I’d understand, but it doesn’t feel like Daire. Even though Daire is a vampire, he’s full of light and snark, not shadows and darkness like Astor. Yet, this is his room. It even smells like him and the expensive cologne he wears. I wonder if he has any scent without the cologne? Most vampires don’t, but Daire is also half witch.
He pulls me over to a luxurious black leather couch, where a knife sits next to a bowl. “I’ve prepared some tools, so we can create wounds and heal them. Please, have a seat. I’ll text Theron.”
I tense, remembering the last time I was near the two. My knees fold, and I sink down into the couch. It’s cool to the touch. “Good thinking,” I tentatively state. “Okay, let’s get started. Unfortunately, the ceremony is tomorrow, so I only have today to get this right.”
He tilts his head to assess me. “You’re tense. The first time you heal, it’s better if you’re calm.”
I take a deep breath before explaining, “I think it’s this room. It doesn’t feel like you, and it’s kind of freaking me out.”
Startled, he scans the room. “Why do you feel it’s not me? I decorated it.”
“You did?” I snort. “I thought Solange decorated this room. It feels like her.”
“Well, we were dating,” he says dryly. “She had a lot of input. What do you think my room should look like?”
With a shrug, I glance around at the cold, dark interior. “It should be warm. When you get angry, you don’t coat the walls with ice, like Theron, or shadows, like Astor. You burn with the hottest of flames, a blue flame. And with all your golden looks, the black washes you out. I think you need a room filled with blues, in various shades. Something that speaks to your heart and who you are.” I stop and blush. Did I go too far?
A slow smile takes over his face. “I’ll consider it. If this place makes you uncomfortable, where do you want to go?”
I think about it. “I’m not sure. I haven’t been to many places in The Abbey. Is there someplace to relax?”
He picks up the bowl and knife. “Follow me,” he calls, striding out of the room. We enter the elevator, and with a murmur, we’re traveling to our destination.
The doors open to lush greenery and an abundance of flowers. I gasp. “This is beautiful,” I exclaim. “I didn’t know we had a garden!” I slip off my shoes, step on the grass, and wiggle my toes. “This is heaven.” I laugh and twirl while Daire stares at me like I’m crazy.
He rolls his eyes, making fun of my childlike appreciation for the garden, but I see the smile he fails to hide. His hand motions me over to a few chairs sitting in the grass. “It’s mostly used by Theron and Fallon when they need nature to help them rejuvenate. And Astor uses it to grow some of his herbs for potions.” He points to a greenhouse in the corner. “But I must confess, I often forget it’s here.”
We both sit, and he pulls up a table to set the knife and bowl on it before texting Theron with our new location.
My anxiety vanishes. “This is much better.” I pause, thinking about how that sounded. “I’m sorry about bashing your room. And since I’m apologizing, I’m also sorry about you and Solange breaking up. I can almost understand why she went a little crazy after losing you.”
“That’s very sweet, but I wasn’t in love with her. I should have broken it off a long time ago, but I didn’t want the drama, so I ignored the situation. Alric almost tied your life to his because of my mistake. It will be a while before I forgive myself,” he says, his voice vibrating with anger.
“You and Solange didn’t seem like you really fit. Maybe I just don’t know her that well?” I tentatively state.
His eyes are distant when he answers my unspoken question. “Solange’s father and mine are best friends, and him and his wife have spent a lot of time at our house. One day, her father adopted this tiny abandoned vampire, named Solange. She was a charming child, full of recklessness and laughter, and we were all enamored of her. And even though I was quite a bit older, she took to following me everywhere. Once she grew up, we were often thrown together at Underworld high society events. My memories of her as a child and the beautiful woman she grew into somehow blended together. I saw what I wanted to see. Unfortunately, along the way she changed, became spoiled and power hungry. I really am sorry.”
“Please, stop. I’m feeling very lucky these days. The cadre has given me a lot—sanctuary, a home, friends, and a mate. Theron and Fallon work night and day to follow up on the assassination leads. Valerian and Astor spend time to train me every day. You’ve healed me, and now you’re going to teach me to heal. That’s more than I expected when I came here to ask for help,” I say softly. “I forgive you. I don’t forgive the witches or Solange and Alric. But we can discuss that another day. Let’s get started.”
He studies my face for a minute without saying a word. Finally, he says, “Okay, to heal, you need to let your heart lead. If it’s a stranger, think about them having a family or being their doctor, something that makes you have warm feelings towards them. For those you know, bring up happy or loving memories of them, or think good thoughts about them. Then think about how much you want them to get better.” With a swift movement, he reaches out and cuts my hand.
Shocked, I glare at him.
“Remember this feeling,” he demands. His hand reaches over and covers mine. A glow engulfs my hand, and I feel an overall warmth coming from him, then the wound knits together.
