Heart of Ash Page 5

  I grabbed her and hugged her tight. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, but I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you for coming with me, sticking by me all this time.”

  “You’re stronger than your blood,” she said, sending a chill across my skin.

  “How did y—my mother used to say that.”

  “Oh, that makes sense.” Beth shrugged. “She talks to me sometimes.”

  “Wait. What do you mean talks to you?”

  “Most of the time she just tells me where to find wooden spoons and such.”

  It pained me to think of my mother in this moment, but maybe it was a sign. I’m the same girl who tracked her mother across the country. Survived a hostile takeover from a vengeful ancestor. I could make gold. Dane was immortal because of me. Because I chose to give it to him. The old Ash was still a part of me. Yes, there’s loss and grief and heartache and despair and so much darkness, but there’s also love and determination and faith. I have to believe we’re going to find my brother. I have to believe that I can be around Dane without losing myself. I’m stronger than my blood. I have to be—for Rhys, for Beth, for myself, and for all the Larkin girls who’ve fallen before me.

  I’m scared. But that’s how I know I’m still alive inside.

  Beth’s backpack began to buzz. She opened it, revealing mounds of sweets she must’ve lifted from the party. Digging through cookies and cake, she pulled out her phone, answering it.

  “Are you with Ash?” Timmons’s frantic voice boomed. “Is she okay?”

  “We’re fine and dandy,” Beth replied.

  “Why is the connection so bad . . . where are you? I can barely hear you.”

  “Oh, it’s frosting,” Beth said as she licked it off the microphone. “Is that better?”

  “Timmons?” I grabbed the phone.

  “Ash, thank God. I just received a call from Dane Coronado, from your cell phone.”

  I checked my pockets and then I remembered the Arcanum guards had confiscated it. “Of course you did.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Everything he said checks out. I’ve looked into it and Spencer Mendoza is on the surveillance footage from the murders we’ve been tracking. He must be delivering Rhys’s blood to the victims.”

  “We have to find Rhys before the other immortals do. The council—”

  “Dane explained everything. He has a private plane waiting at the airport. Should I tell him we’re on our way?” Timmons asked.

  I took a deep breath. I didn’t know if I could really trust Danado, but this was Rhys we were talking about. And Dane was my best shot at finding him right now.

  “I’ll go . . . I’ll hear him out. But I’m not riding on a plane owned by the Arcanum. If I’m doing this, it has to be on my own terms. I’m calling the shots from now on.”

  9

  BY THE TIME we landed in Barcelona, Beth had made friends with a sheik, a hairdresser from Milan, and a dog named Tinkles. The name was well deserved.

  Timmons suggested we stop for some decent clothes before checking in. I glanced down at my bejeweled Times Square NYC airport sweatshirt. “I think I’m totally good with this.”

  “We look so cool.” Beth beamed in her matching sweatshirt. “We’re just like the Golden Girls.”

  “Didn’t realize that’s the look you were going for,” Timmons said as he flagged a taxi.

  The driver hopped out, a stocky man with a cap pulled down tight.

  “Hotel Gòtic, please,” Timmons told the driver.

  Beth sat up front, chitchatting away with this guy, who clearly didn’t speak much English. But she didn’t seem to mind. And strangely enough, neither did he.

  “I’ve taken care of everything, just as you specified. Dane assured me your conditions for the meeting will be met.” Timmons pulled out a phone, showing me the itinerary. “You have a reservation at the Gòtic under your name and another room at La Terrassa under the name of Lucy Arnaz.” He shook his head. “Really, Ash?”

  I grinned. “That was Beth’s contribution.”

  “You don’t say.” He sighed. “But I need you to take this seriously. The council is no joke. Coronado is the face of the Arcanum Corporation, but he’s only a small cog in the machine. I’m still collecting intel, but I understand Coronado has been skating on very thin ice with the council, especially since his return from Quivira. There’s talk of ‘retiring’ him.”

  “What does that even mean? He’s immortal. What could they possibly do to him?”

  “No idea, but it can’t be good.”

  “If this is your idea of a pep talk, you’re really shitty at it.”

  “Sorry. Just be careful, that’s all I ask. As soon as you check in at the Gòtic, you and Beth can slip out the back and head for the other hotel.” He swiped the screen. “Here’s a map with the highlighted route. The restaurant is Les Quinze Nits. You should have a perfect view from your window. I’ll be three blocks over at Café Leonre. If you need me for anything . . . anything at all. If he gets fresh with you or he—”

  I squeezed his hand. “Thanks, Timmons.” He was caught off guard by my sudden burst of affection, but it seemed to calm him down a little.

  I’d been such an asshole to him, and still, here he was, going all the way across the world with me. It wasn’t about the money. He was a Harvard graduate. He could get a job anywhere. And it wasn’t just about my mother, either. He loved Rhys and he loved me. After this was all over, I needed to find a way to let him in. He was the closest thing to family we had left. And the last real connection to my mother. She’d want this. She’d want us to be close. I wasn’t sure where Dane fit into this equation, but in Beth’s vision, she saw us all together again, like we were in Quivira. Maybe it was possible.

  I leaned my head against the glass, trying to hang on to a shred of the resolve I’d found in New York. I couldn’t let myself go soft. Not now.

  I wanted to believe Dane was helping me find Rhys out of the goodness of his heart, because God help him if this was just some pathetic ruse to save his own skin. I would slit his throat right there in that restaurant if I felt he was trying to manipulate me again. I’d love to see him try to explain how he healed right back up.

  As we got closer to the city, it was impossible not to get caught up in the energy. There were blurs of red and blue motorbikes zipping by, clay-tiled roofs, and vibrant graffiti on buildings nestled together—a strange marriage of the old and the new.

  I always thought Rhys and I would come here together. He was obsessed with the book The Shadow of the Wind our entire freshman year. Wouldn’t shut up about it. I’d give anything to hear him rattle off those street names again.

  “Look at that.” Beth pointed up at a gorgeous church.

  “L’església de Sant Jaume,” the driver said.

  We were getting close now. I tried not to get ahead of myself, but if Rhys was doing this as some twisted form of revenge, and Dane was his next target, he could be here right now. I closed my eyes, trying to reach out to him, to feel him, but the only thing I felt was Beth breathing on my face like a dehydrated dog.

  “Wakey, wakey, Ashy. We’re here.”

  Timmons placed the phone into my hand. “It’s straight ahead. You can’t miss it. I’ll be waiting.”

  I gave him a curt nod, and we got out of the cab.

  “And, Ash?” He called after me. “Nina would be very proud of you”

  It took everything I had to hold myself together. I’d never wanted my mother so badly, for her to tell me this was the right thing to do—that I could handle this—but the only thing I felt was this darkness inside of me, pulling me forward. Pulling me toward him.

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I walked down a long shadowed alleyway that looked and smelled like it could’ve been from the fourteenth century. Beth followed at my side. A woman ducked out of one of the
heavy arched doorways, dumping out a bucket of mop water. A man carrying huge baskets of flowers hurried past.

  Had Katia taken this same path before? I knew she must’ve been in Spain around 1540 when she first got involved with Coronado. I always wondered whether they were born with a darkness in their hearts or whether it was the perfect storm: Two seemingly harmless elements coming together to form something deadly. Were they attracted to the darkness in each other? Did they bring it out in each other? Would they have always found the other in one form or another? I couldn’t help but wonder if Dane and I were on the same path . . . if this was something inevitable. A broken circle, aching to be mended.

  When we reached the end of the cobblestone path, it opened onto a vast, marble-tiled square. Plaça Sant Jaume. There was some kind of celebration going on with a live jazz band and swing dancers. On the other side of the square, people were crowded around a regal-looking building. City Hall. There were a half-dozen couples all decked out in suits and wedding dresses, waiting for their turn to get married. There were street kids running around, dodging the rose stands, singing and dancing for coins. It was like something straight out of one of those movies Beth liked to watch on TCM.

  We wandered through the square, to a discreet black awning. The Gòtic Hotel. The doorman looked at us a little funny, probably wondering whether we were posh enough to stay there, but he opened the doors. We checked in and promptly went out the back entrance. I looked around to make sure we weren’t being followed and pulled up the map. The layout of Barri Gòtic was nothing like the grid of New York City—the streets wind and stop, continuing on at a different point—it was complete chaos. “Whoever designed this city must’ve been drunk,” I said as I studied the map.

  “Why don’t we just ask someone?” Beth chirped. “He looks nice.” She started veering toward some sleazy-looking guy on the corner with way too much manscaping going on.

  I pulled her back. “I’ve got this.” We made a few wrong turns, but once I found the Ramblas, I got my bearings.

  People walked so slow, I thought I was going to lose my mind, but I took a few deep breaths and looked ahead so I could chart our path through the clusters of tourists.

  As soon as we emerged from the shady alleyways into the bright afternoon sun gracing Plaça Reial, it felt entirely different.

  Swarms of seagulls, lovers strolling hand in hand, the smell of churros and chocolate, stirred something in me. It felt as if I’d been here before. In this exact same spot. Maybe in a dream or maybe Katia’s memories were creeping in like poison. But even with the vibrant atmosphere, the warmth of the sun on my skin, the darkness pressed down on me. I knew Dane was close.

  We checked into the second hotel with cash. No questions asked. They handed over a huge old key, attached to a giant block of worn, carved wood.

  By the time we’d climbed the four flights of winding steps, we were both completely out of breath.

  I started jiggering the key in the ancient lock, when an old man from next door peeked his head out.

  I opened my mouth to say hello when he ducked back in, like a turtle going back into his shell.

  “Okay . . .” I raised a brow.

  The room was sparsely decorated. A rusted-out iron twin bed, with sheets so thin you could see right through them.

  I pulled back the dusty drapes and peered down at the restaurant. It had an expansive outdoor terrace with the best view of the square. A place to see and be seen. I wanted this to be as public as possible. I wanted to make him squirm. Yes, I was on his turf, but I wanted him to know that I was in control.

  One of my conditions was that I wanted to sit at an outdoor table, front and center. I didn’t want to be boxed in, but here was the oddest thing. All the outdoor tables at our meeting place were empty, which didn’t make any sense because there was a huge line of people waiting at the hostess stand. I looked around at the other restaurants around the plaza and all their outdoor tables were packed.

  Beth sat on the bed, bouncing nervously. The springs were like something out of a nightmare.

  “Stop. People are going to think—”

  “What?” She stopped. “That we’re having fun?”

  “Never mind.” I shook my head. “Just keep a lookout,” I said as I headed to the bathroom. Turning on the ancient faucet, I splashed cold water over my face.

  “He’s here!” Beth hollered, making my heart leap into my throat. When I saw her opening the window, waving, I ran over, tackling her to the ground.

  “We don’t want him to know we’re here.”

  “But aren’t you supposed to meet him?”

  “Please don’t wave. Okay?”

  “I’ll try.” She winced. “But it’s hard.”

  I got off her and crawled back to the window. Dane wore a tailored black suit and a crisp white shirt, with signature Ray-Bans covering his eyes. He looked good. Too good.

  Glancing down at my tacky sweatshirt, I was starting to have second thoughts. I didn’t want him to think I was trying to impress him, but I didn’t want to look hideous, either. After sniffing my armpits, I finally decided to peel it off, leaving me with a ratty black tank top. Better.

  I watched four suited men enter the square and separate. I didn’t need to see their marks to know they were Arcanum. They had that wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing look. My instructions were to come alone, which he technically did, but he was already finding loopholes.

  Dane glanced around the square, taking it all in before he approached the hostess stand. People were gawking at him, snapping pictures.

  The hostess smiled up at him in a way that made my blood spike.

  “Get ahold of yourself,” I whispered to myself.

  “I’m trying,” Beth exclaimed. “I’m sitting on my hands!”

  The hostess led him to one of the outdoor tables. Did he reserve the whole outdoor section of the restaurant? Wouldn’t put it past him.

  I took in one last cleansing breath. “Stay put,” I said to Beth. “This shouldn’t take long. If anything happens, call Timmons.”

  Beth grabbed me, hugging me a little too long. “Don’t do anything reckless.”

  As soon as I could, I broke away from her and rushed down the stairs, into the square.

  I couldn’t believe that I was here—that I was actually doing this.

  But this wasn’t about Dane or Coronado or even me. This was about Rhys.

  I saw that Dane had taken a seat with his back facing the square.

  Maybe it was because he didn’t want to be photographed, but it gave me a minute to pull myself together.

  “I’m stronger than my blood . . . I’m stronger than my blood,” I whispered as I crossed the square.

  But my blood wouldn’t listen. The closer I got, the more I craved him.

  My head was telling me to be cool, be cautious, but my heart, everything in my entire body, was screaming for something more.

  10

  MARCHING RIGHT PAST the hostess stand, I took the seat directly across from Dane.

  “Perdona’m.” The pretty hostess rushed over. “This section is closed—I can find you another—”

  “She’s with me.” Dane took off his sunglasses and looked across the square, waving, and like an idiot, Beth waved back from the open window.

  I tried to match his smug expression, but it wasn’t smug at all. He looked genuinely happy to see me . . . to see Beth. It caught me off guard.

  “Perhaps, you’d like something to drink,” he said. “Cava? Muscatel?”

  “I’m only eighteen. Or in your case, five hundred and eighteen.”

  “Very funny. You’re legal here.”

  “Really?” I replied, finding myself getting sucked into him all over again. “Look”—I sat up straight—“I didn’t come here to drink with you.”

  The hostess stood there, clear
ly spellbound by Dane’s presence.

  “Water’s fine,” I said with a tight smile, just to give her something to do. “Don’t you want anything?” I asked as I watched her skitter away.

  “I never eat or drink in public places.”

  “Why? Afraid I’ll slip something in your drink?”

  He leaned forward, a little too close for comfort, but I didn’t exactly pull away. “That’s how your brother’s blood is killing the immortals.”

  “Oh.” I swallowed hard.

  “You have nothing to fear, of course. Rhys’s blood has no effect on you. We saw that in Quivira.”

  “And you also saw me save Beth from the effects of his blood. Is that why you’re bringing me into this now? You think I’ll open my veins to you again, save you if Rhys gets to you? Covering your bases?”

  “I would never ask that of you.”

  “But you wouldn’t exactly turn it down.”

  “I don’t think you understand,” he said with an intensity that caught me off guard. “Without your trust . . . your love . . . my life would be meaningless.” He brushed a fingertip against the side of my knee, sending an electric current shooting through my bloodstream. “I’d gladly die if that’s what you wanted.”

  I couldn’t resist breathing him in, smelling the warmth from his skin, the sea salt, musk, and the mandarins.

  “I’d hoped we could talk in private, but this was the best I could manage, given your demands.”

  The hostess put down my water, clumsily sloshing it over the sides onto the table, but she never took her eyes off Dane.

  “Thanks,” I said, a little too loud, to snap her out of it. “Does it ever get old?” I asked as I watched her swaying hips move away from the table. “The one-night stands. The womanizing.”

  A hint of a smile danced on his lips. “You must know, that’s all for show.”

  “Please. I’ve seen you in all those magazines, with lots of girls. Beautiful girls. You’re going to tell me you never—”

  “Believe me, if I had, you’d know.”