The 13th Prophecy by H.M. Ward Read Free Book Online Page A

smoothed the hair on the back of my head. “I’d do anything for you. Anything to save you from pain. But with this—it’s different. I don’t know why or how. But I trust you. I know you’ll tell me if things get out of hand. And I’ll help you deal with it, no matter how bloody it gets.” He kissed the crown of my head, as I nodded. We remained still, feeling the winter wind blowing through the roof. Collin’s heart beat steadily in his chest, as his arms held me tight.
     
     
    Lying on the leather couch, I rested with my head in Collin’s lap. I wondered about the kiss. I didn’t feel the compulsion to steal his soul when his lips pressed against me. Nothing stirred inside me, demanding me to take it. I wondered where it went, or if it would return.
    He insisted on stroking my hair and watching me sleep. Both of them saw how drained I was and knew I needed rest. But sleep meant being vulnerable to Locoicia. She could pull me through her black mirror while I rested. That was why Collin wanted to hold me. The reasoning was that he could stop her before she pulled me into the glass. And to tell you the truth, I was glad Collin was there, that he insisted on watching over me. Although his touch registered as nothing more than pressure on my skin, I still wanted him near me. It reminded me that I was alive, and not the cold heartless bastard that was watching me from across the room. Eric.
    As I lay there, Eric’s words echoed through my mind. The price of him using Satan’s Stone was higher than I thought. Eric’s price was more than a constant state of change. But I couldn’t find any commonality to see what it was. I was aware of only one loss that did anything to him, and that was Lydia. He didn’t even seem to grieve Al’s death. But with Eric there was no way to know for sure. He kept everything hidden so deeply that it was impossible to tell what he was thinking with anything. Except when it came to me. He hated me with a passion. Sometimes the thought of facing Kreturus was less frightening than facing Eric.
    Collin’s fingers pressed against my scalp, tangling in my curls as he stroked my head gently. He’d remained quiet for a long time. Uncertainty lined the curve of his mouth. Worry still pinched his brow as he gazed down at me. His voice was soft when he spoke. “I didn’t think you’d forgive me... For what I’d done.” Eric sat across from us, lying on a couch with his eyes closed, although I doubted he was asleep. I didn’t expect Collin to discuss it in front of him, but there might not be another time. His fingers traced the line of my cheek.
    I pressed my hand to his, feeling the curve of his hand in my palm. I wished that I could feel the sensations that used to shoot through me when I touched him, but there was nothing. I released his hand, and looked up at him, “It wasn’t you.” My voice was soft, as if that could keep Eric from hearing our words. Once, there had been no need for words. Once, we were so close that our minds spoke for us. But not now. Never again.
    “That’s easy to say, but when you see me doing things...” his voice trailed off. His blue eyes were strained with anxiety. “When we leave here and you see what I’ve done—it was my hand that did it. It was my doing that freed Kreturus from his prison. I’m to blame for all of it, because I’m the one who started it.”
    I twisted in his lap, and sat up. Staring into his face, I asked, “What do you mean?”
    Collin pushed his dark hair out of his face. His eyes darted to Eric and back to me. “I wish we could talk the way we used to.” He tucked a stray curl behind my ear. He pressed his lips together, pushing them into a thin pink line. “Kreturus escaped because I went looking for him. I found him, I made a bargain, and I lost. It allowed him to use me to come to the surface. And I couldn’t talk about it. I couldn’t warn you away or tell you what I was doing.
    “It became harder and harder to