I padded my way down the hall, following the scent of shampoo and soap. By the time I returned to my bed I was no longer sleepy. My brain had already started buzzing with all that had happened the day before and what I’d have going on today. It was exciting and daunting at the same time.
I wandered to the window and glanced outside at a bluish haze, which was how my eyes perceived night. It looked as I expected until my gaze landed on the snow around the giant ponderosa in the yard. The tree glowed with life, which I also expected, but the area where I’d buried Shojin’s heart glowed, too. So brightly, in fact, that it could easily be seen by anyone without my superior eyesight.
“Oh no,” I murmured. I’d meant to hide the heart, not make it a beacon. If I brought it inside the house, it would glow no matter where I put it. I’d just have to bury it deeper. Then I could cover it with iron to guarantee no one would find it. Iron blocked all magic as well as extrasensory perception.
Since I hadn’t bothered to undress before falling into bed, I didn’t have to worry about waking my roommate by rummaging through my bag looking for clothes. I glanced over at the twin-size bed on the other side of the room to see Xenia still as death beneath a hill of blankets. I fought the urge to shake her and make sure she was alive. The Hatchet murderer had made me paranoid.
I grabbed my jacket from the floor and scurried down the stairs to the kitchen. It didn’t take long for me to find the iron skillet I was looking for. It took a bit longer to find a shovel, which was stashed with a couple of terra-cotta pots and an empty half-barrel planter under the deck outside.
The snow over the buried heart had softened and would probably have been completely melted in a few hours. I scooped away the slush and dug the shovel into the mud underneath. The hole I had made for the heart was even shallower than I thought. Though the stone was probably harder than most rocks, I handled it gently, taking care not to crack or chip its glowing surface. It had to be perfect for Aydin.
I shrugged off my jacket, which had made me too warm anyway, and wrapped it around the heart before getting back to work. The ground became harder the deeper I dug, the frozen mixture of clay and soil solid as a brick. But I hammered at it, swearing under my breath, until I finally pulled away fist-size chunks. Once I got about two feet down, I kneeled to place the heart back in the hole, covered it with the iron skillet, then mounded clods of frozen dirt on top. A generous frosting of snow completed the job. A perfect deep-dish mud pie. And here I thought I couldn’t cook.
I stood to survey my work. No more glow. Mission accomplished.
Shaking the bits of snow and dirt from my jacket, I slipped it on over my sweaty shirt and zipped it closed. My boots were covered in mud, the knees of my jeans caked with the stuff, and my face was undoubtedly smudged with evidence of my secret. I’d have to shower and change before anyone saw me and started asking questions. Aurora and Rafe were the only ones beside Aydin who knew about the heart.
No sooner did his name pass through my mind than I caught a faint whiff of damp fur and sandalwood. A bare whisper of Aydin’s scent trailed on a chilly breeze, and then it was gone. I’d only imagined it. I couldn’t get him out of my mind.
I vaguely wondered what time it was and let my gaze sweep the horizon in search of dawn’s faint light. Instead I found the ghostly outline of a figure just beyond the perimeter of Halo Home’s warded boundaries. Opening and closing his wings, the hulking form paced slowly back and forth across the road.
I could see that Aydin waited for me. The compulsion to run to him grew like a cresting wave that had nowhere to go but forward. My grandmother had forbidden us to leave the property, but she’d surely make an exception this time. Aydin would protect me. He always had.
I ran through the drifted snow, my boots breaking through a crust of ice that had formed overnight. When I reached the perimeter of wards, I stopped. Aydin would be invisible to someone with normal vision, but I could see the particles of his life force. His ghostly gargoyle form turned to face me. I breached the wards and walked his way.
He wasn’t solid in this state, and I knew he couldn’t materialize without the risk of being detected. If I could just get close enough to sense his essence, I could imagine him as he once was and get lost in the fantasy of us being together again. We’d never had a chance to get as close as we had wanted, but it didn’t have to stay that way. We could have a future now, but only if he did the one thing that would make him human.
Aydin came to me. His gait was brisk and I realized then that he had no plan of stopping. That’s what had happened inside Geraldine’s tomb when Aydin’s ghostly body had merged with mine, his thoughts blending with my own before putting me to sleep. He’d had to do it to prevent me from accidentally spilling the secrets Geraldine had told us to our Vyantara master. I doubted sleep was Aydin’s intention this time and so I welcomed the merge. I needed to feel him close and having him inside my mind was more than okay with me.
I closed my eyes, sensing his presence flow into me like water through a stream. My pulse quickened, my skin flushed with heat, and an electric buzz skimmed down my spine. Aydin and I were now one.
I’ve missed you, I told him in mind.
I missed you too, he said, and my heart melted because I could hear his voice, his human voice, inside my head.
You’re not mad at me anymore? I asked.
I was never mad at you, Chalice. He paused. I was hurt. You know how much Shojin meant to me.
Of course I know. His sacrifice was… I couldn’t find the words.
He was a selfless creature. I tried to tell you that.
He certainly had and I’d never believed him until it was too late. But even then, I doubt anything could have stopped Shojin from giving up his heart.
I inhaled Aydin’s familiar scent and it comforted me. Eyes still closed, it was like being in a lucid dream. I stood, semiconscious, on the snowy road. Scents of fresh pine and new-fallen snow filled my nostrils. Then I imagined him big as life right in front of me.
My head felt suddenly too light and I dreamed of Aydin reaching out with human hands to catch me before I could fall.
You look…human.
It’s your imagination. You’re seeing me as you remember. His almond-shaped eyes captivated me, and they crinkled in the corners when he smiled. I knew that smile. I’m inside your head right now. At least this way I can talk to you without snarls and grunts.
He made a good point. Visualizing him like this was as close as I could get to being with him for real. I reached out to touch him and my fingers grazed the rough cloth of his jean jacket like the one he’d worn when we’d shared our first kiss. That was when we said goodbye at the airport. I never saw him human again after that.
Don’t you want to come back? I asked.
He heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. I’ve been thinking long and hard about that. It wouldn’t be right for Shojin to have died in vain. Of course I want to come back. I need you.
Butterflies danced in my belly. He was about to say yes. So you’ll eat the heart?
He winced. That sounds so…barbaric.
I know.
Aydin shook his head. I can’t. Not yet.
My heartbeat slowed. Why not?
You and the few sisters you have left could use a big, ugly immortal gargoyle to your advantage.
Merging with my mind had allowed him to scan my thoughts, which saved me the time of explaining everything about the murders. He now knew as much as I did. Once he became human, he could help me train the squires to use charms for self-protection and lower their risks of getting killed.
I can still help train the squires, he said.
Not if you’re on the