Heart of Ash Read online

  I pulled my arm away.

  “You’re really the perfect marriage.”

  “That’s wrong on so many levels.”

  “And yet here you are, involved with Dane and his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather. I ask you, what’s worse?”

  “Not by choice.”

  “We’ll see.” He set his glass down. “By night’s end, you may forget about him entirely.” He reached out, stroking his fingers along my cheek. There was no hesitation in him, no fear.

  And the darkness in me let him do it. There was a part of me that wanted to know what his touch would feel like. It was still Dane’s hand, but there was an emptiness there. A hollow space, begging to be filled. With Dane, every touch, every glance, every word was loaded with our past, present, and future. Being with Coronado was simple. It was Dane’s body without any expectation, nothing more than our base desires, flesh upon flesh. It would’ve been so easy to slip into the abyss. For a few fleeting moments, to forget who we were, who we were supposed to be.

  He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine, and I found myself easing into him. He smiled at the way my body seemed to react, his eyes lighting up with mischief. But as he went in for the kill, I bit down hard on his lower lip, forcing him to look me in the eyes.

  “Dane,” I whispered.

  A look of pain and rage passed over him, as if I’d betrayed him in some way. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, I felt Dane come back to me, flooding me with emotions—a hypnotic cocktail of blood and guilt and sorrow. Suddenly, I was desperate to feel connected to him, like I couldn’t get close enough to him if I tried.

  I kissed him, really kissed him. Breathing in time, our limbs entwined. I craved him in a way I hadn’t felt since we were together under Heartbreak Tree.

  “Ashlyn, stop.”

  “Why?” I panted.

  “I’m bleeding,” he said as he dabbed his lip.

  “I don’t mind,” I said as I went in for more.

  “But you need to know.” He held my shoulders. “It’s my blood that’s making you feel this way.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “When immortals share blood, well . . . it’s a very intimate thing to do. But being blood bound intensifies everything.”

  As his lip healed, the desire quelled, but it didn’t completely dissipate. It felt as if I were drunk with him, with the promise of his blood.

  Dane tried to stand, but his knees seemed to buckle under him.

  “Here, let me help you.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said as he reluctantly let me lead him to his bed. “I didn’t want you to see me this way.”

  “What way?”

  “Weak,” he said as he sank down on the edge of his bed.

  “But this is all my fault,” I said as I slipped off his shoes, forcing him to lie down.

  “Did you get the answers you were looking for?”

  “You really weren’t there? You didn’t see what happened?” I asked.

  “No, but I’m guessing from the cut on my lip that he tried to kiss you.”

  “Something like that,” I replied as I fixed his pillows, feeling a little guilty for letting it go that far. This confirmed that they could keep things from each other. I was glad. I didn’t want Coronado knowing all the intimate details of my relationship with Dane. “You gave yourself over to him fully, just as I asked, and I was able to bring you back. That’s all I needed to know,” I said as I sat on the bed next to him, tracing my finger around the buttons of his shirt. “What was it like?”

  “Darkness,” he said with a shiver. “With each breath, I felt myself disappearing, until I could hardly remember the sound of your voice . . . your face.”

  I lay down next to him, in the crook of his arm, resting my head on his chest. I remembered what that was like, disappearing into Katia. How frightening that was. “I won’t ask you to do that again.”

  “But I will, if it gives you peace.” He looked down at me with tears in his eyes. “I’ll do it again and again. As many times as you need.”

  This was the real Dane. Sacrificing everything for me. Again and again. I wanted him more than I ever had. It wasn’t a rip-your-shirt-off kind of passion, but there was a sweet sadness about him. I wanted to fix him. I wanted to make him whole again.

  “I had no idea about the blood, that it would feel like that every time. I’ll never forget what that was like, feeling your blood course through mine under Heartbreak Tree. It felt like I was holding your heart in my hand.”

  “You were. You still are.”

  I leaned forward to kiss him, just as Lucinda barged in the room. She stood on the threshold in a sheer nightgown, her dark hair loose and wild, clutching something behind her back. “Pardon,” she said as she quickly ducked out of the room, but the look on her face was undeniable. She wasn’t just in love with Coronado, she’d fallen in love with Dane, too. And I was clearly in her way.

  “I should go,” I said as I started to untangle myself from him.

  “Stay with me . . . for a little longer.”

  I looked up at him, at his weary, beautiful face. “I’m not sure if I can trust myself.”

  “Then don’t,” he whispered with a tempting smile.

  There was nothing I wanted more than to be with him, in that way, in his fine bed, in his arms, in blood. But I couldn’t give in to this. Not until I knew my brother was safe.

  “Good night,” I said, forcing myself to leave his bed.

  As soon as I reached the safety of my room, I let out a heaving breath.

  Pacing the floor, I tried to come to my senses. “I’m stronger than my blood. I’m stronger than my blood,” I whispered to no one.

  I removed the heavy iron key from the agate box. The metal quickly warmed to my touch. I stood in front of the door that separated our rooms. All I had to do was slip the key into the lock and he’d be mine. Or I’d be his. But I needed to think with my head and not my “heart.”

  I took a deliberate step away from the door. I thought not seeing him would be enough to quell my blood, but being this close and not being able to touch him was pure torture.

  Climbing into bed, I nestled the key to my chest and cried myself to sleep.

  Somehow I knew he was doing the exact same thing.

  26

  I AWOKE FROM a nightmare to the sound of the key rattling in the lock. I had a brief moment wondering if it was the immortals coming to get me, but I could tell by the smell of brioche, blood orange, and black tea that it was breakfast.

  I pretended to be annoyed, but this was the first time in I don’t even know how long that I wanted to get up. I wanted to see what the day would bring.

  I wanted to see him.

  Lucinda brought in a large shiny white box with a breakfast tray balanced on top.

  “This is for you to wear this morning,” she said as she slid the box onto the bed.

  “Look.” I grabbed a brioche from the tray. “I’m not some Barbie doll you can dress up and play with,” I said as I opened the box. “Last night was a one—Ooh . . .” I ran my hand over the thick cream cloth of the breeches. The gold buttons on the black blazer with a prim white shirt and the most luxurious pair of tall black boots.

  “This morning, you ride,” Lucinda said as she started to make up the bed with me still in it.

  “I haven’t ridden a horse since I was a kid. And that was a pony at a birthday party,” I said as she bullied me out of the bed.

  “Good. Maybe you’ll fall and break your neck, come to your senses, and leave this place,” she said as she left the room.

  I felt like I should say something to her after last night, but what could I possibly say? I didn’t know what kind of arrangement she had with Coronado . . . what he promised her . . . but everything was differe
nt now. The sooner she faced it, the better. I knew why she wanted to get rid of me, but I wouldn’t scare so easily.

  Taking in a deep whiff of oiled leather, I thought, what do I have to lose? I can’t die, and it beats sitting around watching Beth get diabetes.

  Putting everything on, I checked myself out in the mirror. I might fall on my ass, but at least I’d look good doing it.

  I grabbed a fresh green apple from the bowl at the foot of the staircase and headed toward the stable. I didn’t need to ask for directions; the earthy scent of fresh-cut hay and saddle leather was enough to lead me.

  I was surprised to find Dane there by himself, saddling up a couple of horses.

  “I thought you’d have stable boys for that,” I said.

  “I like to do it myself.” He glanced back before putting the bridle on the jet-black horse. “It’s peaceful. Everything is simple here. It’s just you and the horse. If you can make a horse trust you, you can’t be that horrible of a person.”

  “You’re good at making people trust you.”

  Instead of the usual snappy comeback, he paused, his face cast in shadows. “I deserved that,” he said quietly as he continued tightening the straps.

  I raised the apple to take a bite when the other horse snatched it right from my hand.

  “Hey!” I laughed.

  “This one clearly belongs to you,” he said. “Her name is Ash.”

  “You named a horse after me?”

  He put the bridle on her. “I needed someone to talk to.” He smoothed his hand over her face. “She’s beautiful and graceful. The color reminds me of you.”

  “Gray?”

  “Not just gray. She’s a dapple gray. When she runs, she looks like smoke.”

  Tentatively, I reached out to pet her, but she pulled back, violently shaking her head. Dane slipped his hand through mine, and we stroked the horse together.

  “Be firm with her.” His eyes flashed toward me. “Ash is a tricky one. You don’t want to show her that you’re afraid or she’ll get the upper hand.”

  “And what’s wrong with her having the upper hand? She’s a lot more powerful.”

  “Because she won’t respect you.” He pulled his hand away, and a tiny revolt went off inside my body.

  He led the horses out of the paddock. “Put your foot in the stirrup.”

  I started to put the wrong foot in when he corrected me. As I rose up to swing my leg around, he gave me a boost.

  “Was that really necessary?”

  “Probably not.” He smiled. “You want to hug the horse with your legs,” he said as he ran his hand up the length of my thigh. “The pressure will keep you in the saddle.”

  “Don’t I need a helmet or something?”

  “Afraid you might die?”

  “I wish,” I murmured under my breath, but I didn’t mean it. Not today.

  “Don’t worry. We’re going to take it nice and easy,” he said as he checked the reins.

  “Why? Because I’m a girl?” I asked. “What if I don’t want it nice and easy?”

  He looked up at me and grinned. “We can certainly accommodate.” Dane slapped my horse on the hindquarters, and she took off out of the stables. It was terrifying at first, this beast moving beneath me, all muscle and fury, but after a few moments, I got the hang of it, more or less. I loosened my grip and tried to move with the animal. This was the closest to flying I’d ever felt.

  Dane tore out of the stable and circled in front of us, slowing us down, leading us toward a well-worn path.

  “Did you know the conquistadors brought the horses to America from Spain?” he said as we meandered through the orchards. “Andalusians, just like these. Before Coronado went into the plains, the natives had never seen a horse before.”

  “Do you see his memories, like I saw Katia’s?”

  “It’s not the same as it was with you and Katia. I saw what that did to you.” He seemed to shudder at the thought. “It was hard at first. Some of the memories were so terrible that I wanted to dig them out of my head with a pickax, but other things were nice. The prairie grass swaying in the wind. Katia laughing with the sun in her hair, butterflies dancing all around her. Most of the time, Coronado’s presence is as thin as a whisper. Sometimes his influence is as simple as a food I crave that I’ve never tried before.”

  “Hence the octopus,” I said.

  “Hence the octopus.” He grinned. “But sometimes it’s a mutual sadness. When I look at the portrait in the study, or when I watch you walk away from me, his pain mirrors my own. That’s something we share.”

  As we passed a tree, Dane plucked a piece of fruit from one of the branches. He pulled up the edge of his shirt to rub it clean, exposing his toned stomach. His gorgeous olive skin. I tried to look away, but it was too late. The smile spreading across his lips told me he knew everything. He sidled up next to me, kissing the fig before handing it over.

  I took a bite; it was warm and ripe from the sun . . . from his lips. “Delicious,” I said as he led us past the fruit trees to a seemingly endless grove of silver-leafed trees.

  “What are these?” I asked as I skimmed my hand along the delicate branches.

  “Olive. This grove is more than a thousand years old.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “We can learn a lot from these trees,” he said as we wandered down the rows. “Look at the trunks. Some are graceful, elegant in their form, while others are gnarled and bent. But even when they are stretching out to the far corners of the earth, they remain connected, their roots tangled up in one another’s. An unbreakable bond.”

  And I wondered if that’s what Dane and I were like. If we’d always end up twisted together in one form or another.

  “This tree should be our signet if we ever marry. Think about it: Mrs. Dane Mendoza Coronado,” he said with a sly grin. “It has a nice ring to it.”

  “Do you ever let up?”

  “Never when it comes to you.”

  He reached out for my hand. As good as it felt, I pulled away.

  “I know what you’re feeling,” he said. “It’s a mix of emotions, but I still can’t tell what you’re thinking. You look a million miles away.”

  “Our past,” I said as I stared up at the slow-moving clouds. “It feels like a weight. My mother told me that when I fall in love, I’d carve out my heart and throw it into the deepest ocean. That I’d be all in—blood and salt—but I don’t want to live on the bottom of the ocean floor. I can’t remember the last time I felt light.”

  He took in a sharp breath as if my words had cut right to the quick of him, of me, of everything we were under the Heartbreak Tree.

  “Look, we don’t have to talk about this,” I said.

  “I want to. I want you to be able to tell me anything. I know I hurt you, but I want to make it up to you. All I want is for you to trust me again.”

  I took in a deep breath. “It’s more than that. More than us. You’ll never understand what it means to kill your mother. I don’t know if I’ll ever be free of that guilt and how it’s connected to you.”

  “I want to show you something,” he said as he took off, his horse in a full canter. As we rode through the countryside, I tried not to get caught up in him, how masterfully he handled his horse, the way the wind caressed his hair, the way the light seemed to bend to his face. He was stunning and fascinating, and he was in love with me. But there was still something holding me back. I didn’t know if it was pride or fear or just plain common sense, but I needed to make peace with this. The fracture between my head and my blood was tearing me apart.

  When we reached a narrow lane leading to the ruins of a castle, we dismounted, letting the horses graze in what once must have been a courtyard, but was now overgrown with dark green clover.

  “Why would anyone abandon a place like
this?” I asked. “It’s magical.”

  “The amount of money needed to restore an estate is considerable, but there’s also the matter of it being cursed.”

  “Cursed?” I asked as I followed him inside the structure.

  “There was a lord who lived here in the thirteenth century. He had a beautiful wife, Isabel. When the lord returned from a crusade, he heard rumors that his love had been unfaithful, and he called for her immurement.”

  “Immurement,” I whispered. That’s what the council had threatened me with. “That’s Latin . . . right? What exactly does it mean?”

  “I believe the translation is ‘walling in.’”

  “So, he locked her in a tower, like a fairy tale?”

  “Not exactly. He cemented her in a small space in the wall. This wall,” he said as he nodded toward the crumbling stones. “She cried out for days and days. More than a week had passed when he discovered the rumors were false; that she had indeed been true to him. He tore open the wall, but it was too late. She was already dead.”

  I put my hand to the remnants as if I could somehow feel her presence, but I felt nothing but cold stone.

  “But night after night, he still heard her screaming,” Dane said. “He was haunted by what he’d done. In an attempt to make amends he had these made.” Dane leaned down, wiping years of dust away from a tile. It read EGO SUM QUI PECCAVI.

  “‘I am he who has sinned,’” he whispered. “Every single tile in this castle says the exact same thing. He wanted every step he took to remind him of what he’d done. What he’d lost.”

  “Why are you showing me this?” I asked, rubbing the chill from my arms as I stared at the long expanse of tile.

  “I don’t need tiles to be reminded of my sin.” He took my hand placing it against his chest. “It’s in my blood. With every beat of my heart, I’m reminded of the pain I’ve caused you. Can you ever forgive me?”

  This was the first time he’d properly asked for my forgiveness. But in truth, the moment I decided to come to Spain, I knew I would give Dane a second chance. But I hadn’t been doing that. How long was I going to punish him? I wondered if in some sick way this had become habit, my way of relating to him. And I didn’t want to live in the past anymore. In regret. I saw what that did to Katia, how it haunted her, changed her. I didn’t owe this to him—and certainly not to Coronado—but I owed this to myself. The freedom to choose with an open heart. This wasn’t the same boy I fell in love with at Quivira. This was a man who’d accepted the consequences of his actions. And now it was time to accept mine.