The Last City Page 26

  What I saw evoked within me an urge to cover my ears and run away. His coming words, I knew would hurt, and I wanted to spare us both the pain. Me, for having to hear it, and him, for having to say whatever it was that he was working up to.

  “I have to go back into the city,” he exerted, but his gaze implored my understanding. “I need to deal with the them, the militia, Shaylen. I have to help Mason fight what is coming.”

  All I could do was stare back at him.

  “No matter what,” I managed. “You said, we stay together. Your words.”

  “I know,” he sighed. “And I’m sorry I made that promise before I knew what we were up against. But Mason has a plan. And I trust him. I need you to stay close to Haize and Aleric. Do everything they say. They will keep you safe.”

  I didn’t know what to say. He was telling me he was leaving, going into the city, to face untold danger. And for what? I wanted to ask, but I knew what - to save what was left of his world.

  “Lydia,” he murmured, stroking my face. “You are my world. You know there is nothing more important to me than you.”

  “I know,” I exhaled, summoning that faith I was supposed to have. “I also know that you won’t do anything that would…” I couldn’t say it, and searched for any words that could even remotely resemble what I needed to say. “Cause your… complete removal from my life,” I trailed off, not even wanting to think it. I wasn’t sure how careful he could possibly even be, once inside the city. But I needed to plant some thought of me inside of him. And then I felt selfish for even saying it.

  “Lydia,” he whispered. He moved from the bench to kneel before me, taking my hands in his. “It’s not selfish of you to want to remind me, to come back to you. I know what you’re feeling. I’ve been there, remember? I want you to remind me. Every decision I make will be with you in mind. Keeping you safe. Coming back to you, to us,” he paused, and looked away for a moment, before capturing my gaze once more.

  “No matter what happens,” he continued. “No matter what you think you are seeing or hearing, always remember, there’s only you and only me.”

  His words at first didn’t register, I was so focused upon his tone and the imploring look in his eyes. It wasn’t until moments later that a question arose.

  “What might I see?”

  “Things you may not like. Things you may not understand.”

  “I don’t understand now.”

  He sighed and lowered his head to rest upon our clasped hands. “I couldn’t tell you what may or may not happen. I don’t even know myself. But no matter how this plays out, please remember,” he said. He rose his head and released my hands. “That I am here.” He placed one hand over my heart, and I covered it with one of mine. He gently entwined our fingers, holding my hand there with his.

  “And I am here,” he said. With his other hand, he gently caressed my temple, and I moved my free hand to clasp it, as well. “Promise me, you’ll always remember.”

  It sounded too much like he was saying goodbye. I didn’t want to promise him. I couldn’t say goodbye. I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out.

  He released my hands, and rose up to be at my eye level, his mouth briefly brushed mine. “Promise me,” he whispered again.

  And again, I opened my mouth, but the words would not form. I hadn’t been able to keep every promise I’d made him, and I wasn’t sure what to do with this one.

  I could feel my mouth opening and closing, working to form a word, any word, and instead of gaping at him like a fool, I threw myself against his chest. Then taking a deep breath, I inhaled his scent. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight.

  “This is not goodbye,” he whispered. “This is just a reminder, for us both.”

  I nodded minutely against him, not wanting to move. He gently clasped my chin in one hand and lifted my face to his. I expected to feel his kiss, but it never came. His eyes held me to him, and I stared back, wishing the moment would not end.

  Slowly, he moved. His eyes never leaving mine, as he sat beside me upon the bench.

  “When do you leave?” I whispered.

  “I don’t know. Mason is waiting until the last possible moment.”

  But we had tonight, and hopefully tomorrow. Beyond that, there was nothing, only the constriction in my chest.

  I broke our eye contact to move closer to him, and sighed, giving in to the barely audible sound of the tide, and I leaned my head upon his shoulder. He wrapped one arm around me, pulled me close, and lay his head upon mine. I wished in that moment that we could be closer, wrapped up in each other’s souls, his essence entwining with mine, warming my heart, filling me with his love. And I hoped the coming days, or weeks, would move swiftly beyond the coming doom, so we could soon have that again.

  I wanted to lift my head to look at him, but he seemed content to stay as we were. And so instead, I ran one hand up and down his suit-covered arm, and gazed out at the water.

  After some time, I felt a need to hear his voice. Too much quiet gave my brain too much time to speculate, and the sound of him always calmed the direction of my thoughts. And I decided to comment upon the nighttime ocean, certain he would have painted the colors and the movement of that scene, as well. And I wondered how much further he’d advanced with his project in the city, since I’d last seen it.

  “You know,” I began, trying not to smile, as I rose my gaze to the sky. “It’s nighttime and there is not a cloud in the sky. I know this because I can see every star and the bright, shining moon overhead,” he lifted his head from mine, raising his eyebrows at my most basic of observations.

  “And,” he begged. His question, so filled with hope that there was more to my simple statement, forced me to stifle the laughter that had started to escape my playful grin.

  I didn’t want to say it, for it only meant more work for him. But I couldn’t resist the lighthearted moment we’d managed to find.

  “The moonlight is not reflecting upon the ocean’s surface,” I whispered.

  He whipped his head back toward the night-covered water, and then looked up at the sky.

  “An observation I should have made myself after your last complaint.”

  “I wasn’t complaining,” but my protest was weak. “And I’m not now. I’m just remarking upon an unusual and visually incorrect scene.”

  “Of course, you are,” he kissed my nose. “And when the militia is gone, I shall teach you to paint. That way you can correct any other mistakes I’ve made.”

  “They’re not mistakes,” I began, but his mouth, soft and warm, stopped any further comments. Not that I minded, and I didn’t even try to fight my way to freedom to finish my remarks. I was too focused upon the subtle control his mouth demanded.

  It was different however, kissing him without feeling my emotions wrapped up in his. We’d gone from having every connection two people could possibly ever dream of having with each other, to relying upon our five basic senses to display our affections. And I found I didn’t really care. He was with me, for now, and that was more than enough.

  When he pulled away he looked at me with a worrying smile.

  “Now what?” I asked, expecting more bad news.

  “We’re staying here.”

  “Huh?”

  “If you’re ok with it,” he quickly added. “I know the memories may resurface. But I’ve heard you think too many times, that you wish to have back what the ward took away. This is the best place to start. Take it back.”

  “Take it back,” I snorted in disbelief.

  “Why not?” he asked. “We don’t even have to sleep. We have no place to be tomorrow,” but he paused, I was sure, in the hope that his words were true. “Not urgently anyway, and if Lena comes looking for us, well… too bad for her, she’s not getting through the shield,” he grinned.

  “You would love to show her up, wouldn’t you?”

  “She’s brought me so much further
along than I ever would have on my own. But… the way she throws me around that stadium, it’s as though I’m nothing to her.”

  “Does she scare you?”

  “The main thing that concerns me about her, is if she were to be taken by the Guardian. I think that’s why she’s pushing us.”

  He caught my gaze in that moment, and placed one hand upon my cheek. I leaned my face into his palm, comforted by his touch.

  “That’s why I’m going to push you. I don’t want you to fear this place, nor the memories it holds. This is ours. Not his. It belongs to us.”

  I closed my eyes while turning to kiss his palm, and reached up with one hand to clasp my fingers around his. Then pulling his hand away from my face, I rose from the bench, bringing him up with me.

  “Lead the way,” I whispered.

  I’d thought that when the time came, walking back into that front room, would be like coming home to a friend; its warmth, filled with our memories, would welcome me back. But it had been weeks and there was no warmth, no sense of home. The room seemed lost in its emptiness, almost sterile, devoid of any emotion, as though we no longer belonged there, or as if it had never been ours in the first place.

  The emptiness however, I could deal with. We could build upon it. He took me through to the bedroom with slow cautious steps, as though expecting me to stop and pull away, but I kept my feet moving forward.

  Mine, not his. Ours. Mine and Jordan’s, I repeated with each step.

  My head was down when we entered the room, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to look upon the last place my ward had been. But from that very first step inside, even just from looking at the floor, I could tell it was different. It wasn’t the same room. And I rose my head to gaze upon an empty shell. Four grey walls, grey lifeless floor and ceiling. No furniture, no windows, no bathroom. Nothing. As though it had never existed.

  “What is this?” I asked, a smile playing at the corners of my mouth. The emptiness of the room was unexpected, but the sight of it was most welcome.

  “As much as you need to take control of what happened, I figured this room would have been too much. I wanted us to start fresh.”

  I smiled at him. He knew my boundaries, I guess better than I did.

  “The only question is, what shall we do with it?”

  “Whatever we do, it will be a joint effort this time,” I told him, reminding him of our room in Grid’s house. “I have, however, enjoyed having that eastern window. Waking up to the morning sun playing upon your skin, is entrancing.”

  “Anything else?” he asked, with a smile.

  And through his smile I could almost feel his warmth, his essence moving within him, reaching for mine. I knew it wasn’t though, he couldn’t risk it, but the memory stirred strong within me.

  Upon sensing my thoughts, he turned to face me, stepping closer to me, moving me backward until I could feel the cold, hard wall behind me.

  “I would like that wall gone,” I said, pointing toward the south. “As much as possible. I like feeling the ocean air. I like its scent, its sound. It’s comforting.”

  “So, you’re an exhibitionist now?”

  “No,” I scowled, trying to push him away, but he didn’t yield. Instead, he came closer, closing any space that remained between us. “No one can get in, right? And you can make it so no one can see in...” I started, but the intensity of his gaze erased the rest of my sentence before I could get it out. “And…” I stopped, not even knowing how I’d intended to finish.

  He leaned down. His breath led the advance across my cheek and down my neck, and I expected his mouth to make contact at some point, but instead he whispered, “I guess we have work to do.”

  “Uh-huh,” I agreed, no coherent words would form, as he lifted his face to be level with mine once more.

  “Close your eyes.”

  He picked up my hand and pressed it with his against the silky-smooth control panel. And I did my best to focus upon the few changes I needed in the room.

  Several moments later, he pulled my hand away from the wall, and I opened my eyes to take in our new room.

  Most of it, I knew, came from him. The furniture was sparse, the linens and colors of the room mostly muted and calm, but I liked it. The bed, similar in style to our four-poster in the city, sat in the middle of the room facing the southern wall. The four posts stretched from the floor to the ceiling, with a canopy of fine white netting hanging all around.

  The southern wall contained an arched opening that revealed the darkness outside. But the chilly night air did not enter.

  “If we remove some of those hedges,” he said, pulling me into the room. “We should have a view of the water from here.”

  It was beautiful, what he did for me, to help bring us home. I couldn’t voice what I felt in that moment, I couldn’t even express it. However, despite the serenity of the room, I could feel the memories closing in, and I didn’t think I would get any rest that first night. But being wrapped in his arms, and with the soft sounds of the ocean reaching us, I was soon lulled into the deepest of sleeps. No dreams came. For that I was thankful.

  I awoke before the dawn, and lay there for hours watching the light brighten our eastern window. It shone in golden patches through the leaves on the trees outside, which then gently wavered across Jordan’s skin, highlighting one glorious limb after another. He was stretched out beside me upon his stomach, and I resisted the urge to touch him. I didn’t want to wake him.

  However, the moment I sensed him watching me, I smiled.

  “How did you sleep?” he asked.

  “You can’t tell?” I extended one finger to chase a patch of sunlight as it danced across the skin and ink upon his back.

  He reached up with one arm and pulled me to him, as he rolled onto his side. “Welcome home, my love,” he breathed into my ear.

  Mine, the voice came. I’d expected it much sooner. But I was ready for it. I knew it wasn’t him, my ward. It was only a memory the deeper recesses of my brain needed to regurgitate. And I let linger for a moment before putting it in its place.

  I sighed silently inside, and smiled, grateful for the man beside me, who’d shown me I could be strong after all.

  He rose up to his knees, pulling me up with him. I wanted to question, but didn’t. For I realized I could feel him - his thoughts, and his emotions. They were barely there, but noticeable.

  I gasped at the feeling, having missed it more than I could express.

  But he was putting himself at risk, exposing himself to any who may be able to sense his presence, by doing so.

  “Jordan, no,” I exhaled.

  “I don’t care,” he said back. His fingertips trailed up my arms, and slowly back down, tracing every curve of my skin. “I’m going to fill you with me, until you can’t think about anything else,” he said, his eyes secured mine, not wavering for even a moment.

  And I felt him then. His soul, released from its confines in a fierce wind that blew through my every cell. He wound himself around me; his warmth overtook every feeling within me.

  I felt safe in his eyes.

  “You won’t see anything, hear anything, feel anything, nor sense anything…” his words while soft, were filled with a fixed determination, to fulfill their every purpose and promise. “Nor will you remember anything… except me, except us.”

  He clasped my hands, holding one to his chest, and lifted my other to caress his cheek, his temple. “Focus on me, on us,” he continued. “Don’t look away.”

  I felt loved by his tone.

  He brought my hands to his mouth, where he kissed each palm, before trailing his fingers back up my arms, and over my shoulders. He gently leaned in, gently pulled me to him. His eyes never wavered. And as his lips met mine, his thoughts and his feelings flooded my mind.

  I was wanted in his heart.

  I tried to gasp at the sensations that rolled through me, but he held me to him, not releasing ei
ther my mouth or my eyes.

  Needed by his touch.

  His hands slid down my lower back and he lifted me easily, closing any spaces between us. I should have felt the softness of the covers caress my skin, but there was only him, his hands, and his body holding me to him. There were no walls surrounding us, only his soul, and his arms that wrapped around me. No air filled my lungs, there was only him, his breath, his scent, anchoring me to him.

  And warmed by his soul.

  There was no room in my head for anything other than his presence. I wasn’t just cocooned within him, I was overcome, flooded by his every sense. There was no room for unchecked thoughts, no room for adverse memories to pierce his layer of protection. His memories of me, my memories of us, entwined my every thought in a rapturous burst of emotion, filling every crevice of my mind. He moved us body and soul. His desire, his devotion, sated the open spaces of my heart until I was no longer me. Instead, we were a piece of our own unique puzzle, unbound by time and space, and unified, united, as one.

  There was no past, there was no future, only this moment, loving him, being loved by him, and knowing without reservation, that we would be this way for as long as our souls existed.

  24

  Things I May Not Understand

  Each morning, the sun greeted me, its warm caresses mesmerizing me, as its light danced upon his skin. On the fourth morning however, I could no longer sense him, his thoughts and emotions were once more locked away. And when he turned to me, the smile I’d come used to seeing was gone.

  “Mason is at the dome,” he said, pulling me up with him.

  “No,” I wanted to cry out loud, but my voice had failed me. It was too soon. He couldn’t be leaving. Not now. “How… how do you know?” I asked, trying to keep the tremor out of my tone.

  “Mason can send me an impression of his thoughts through the shield around our house, but that is all. He let me know he is there. I don’t know what he did while he was helping me with my memories, but I now seem to be more strongly connected to him than anyone else.”