Nightingale (The Sensitives) Part 32

"What?" I tease, knowing he can feel the effect he has on me.

His lips hover over mine and my hands tangle in the s.h.a.ggy dark curls at the base of his neck. I close my eyes and imagine Beck the way he should look: blond messy waves, chiseled jaw, dimple, olive eyes.

His hands run up my back to my bare shoulders and heat spreads throughout my body.

"I love you," he whispers.

Kyra gasps. My guards are watching Ryker and me kiss. And Ryker say he loves me.

And every one of them knows there's something not right about that.

Over Beck's shoulder, Annalise glares at us. She folds her arms across her chest. I draw a quick breath and imagine different scenarios in which what just happened is even possible.

I step back and rub my hands down the front of my skirt, stalling for time. The best thing is to pretend like it was unexpected. Which is was. But I need to act aloof. Or even upset.

"What was that?" I accuse, forcing a tinge of anger into my voice.

Beck rubs his bicep. "I thought...I'm sorry, Lark. I thought you'd be okay with it. It seemed like..."

"Like what? Like I wanted you to force yourself on me?" I set my jaw hard. "Don't forget what happened last time." Fire, I think. I tried to set Ryker on fire on our binding night.

I know. "Are you going to set me on fire again?" The conversation is seamless, yet next to Annalise, Kyra frantically taps her wristlet, and my panic grows as the color drains from her face.

"Annalise?" Beck calls. "When will Malin be back? Lark and I need some time alone to discuss what happened, but I don't want to miss dinner."

His question falls on deaf ears. Kyra's body shakes and her lip trembles as she holds out her wristlet to Annalise.

Something bad has happened. Kyra's trying to not be hysterical, Beck says to me. Can you sense it?

The deluge of horror coming from the knot of guards is overwhelming and I brace myself against it. If I let it all hit me at once, I can't control my magic.

Beck wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer. The action doesn't match our conversation, but not one of my guards notice.

Are you able to tell what's happened?

I think they know. Beck strokes my arm. "I'm so sorry, Lark. For everything. I didn't want this to happen."

"What are you talking about?"

He squeezes my hand. "I thought things would be different."

Several members of Mother's staff appear at the end of the walkway and confer with my guards. They're too far away for me to hear, but Kyra paces wildly along the edge of the group and keeps her eyes turned from me.

"You need to go. Transport or something. Just get out of here."

"I can't leave you alone to deal with this."

Suddenly, Annalise spins around and her raven-colored ponytail flies behind her like a dark flag.

All eyes are on us and I keep my hands loose, ready to strike. There's enough fear and misery in this garden to make me lethal, and while I don't want to hurt anyone, no one is going to hurt Beck.

"Kyra?" I say evenly. "Is everything okay."

Annalise vanishes and reappears at my side. Her closeness sends electricity rippling through me.

"You need to come with me," she says.

Another guard appears next to Beck.

I position myself between Beck and the guard. My hands are in the ready position, near my chest, palms out.

Annalise's arm darts out and she slaps a piece of metal around my wrist. I stare at the restraint in disbelief.

"You're restraining me? Why? What did I do?"

"Go home, Ryker." Beck takes a step toward me and she cuts him down with an icy glare. "Now."

I dig my shoes into the dirt, but it isn't enough to stop her from dragging me up the path toward the house. Magic is boiling inside me, and with no outlet, it feels like I'm suffocating. I can't breathe.

"Annalise! Stop! Tell me what's wrong!" I plead.

Beck chases us down the path. "Where are you taking Lark?"

No one answers him.

"I said, 'Where are you taking Lark?" Beck's bronze hand clasps Annalise's shoulder, and he yanks us to a stop. My other guards rush forward and encircle me. The anger rippling off him combines with the grief coming from my guards, and I drop to my knees. I can't lift my hands, I can't do magic, and I have no idea what's happening.

"Annalise? What's going on?" I cry.

"That's what I want to know." Beck paces the perimeter of my security zone. His jaw clenches. "Let her go," he says, swinging his fist at Oliver.

"Arrest him."

Magic sparks from Dawson, but Beck deftly deflects it and sends a stream arching back toward my guards and me.

There's no point in fighting the pain of my locked magic anymore, it rushes through me and my body convulses under the strain.

I'm sorry, Birdie. I never meant to hurt you. Beck's anguished voice fills my head. I didn't mean for this to happen.

A slow burn builds in my gut and spreads through my body. I turn my head to the side, to where Beck stood just moments ago, and find emptiness. He's gone.

And with him, whatever small piece of calm that existed within me has disappeared.

Anger flashes white hot before me. There's nowhere for it to go, and it turns in on me, devouring every rational part of my soul.

My body convulses again, blotting out the world for a second. Through the seemingly endless darkness, I can hear Kyra crying. I can feel overwhelming sadness, misery, and grief.

And it makes me smile. I am alive and powerful.

With little effort, I roll onto my side and flex my fingers. Once, twice, a third time. I pluck the restraint from my wrist and toss it aside.

"You'll have to do better than that," I say, coolly.

Annalise stoops and picks up the discarded piece of metal. When she faces me, tears well in her eyes and an ugly red splotch covers her chest.

"You can't stop me," I hiss. "Nothing you do can stop me."

My guards form a wall before me, their hands at the ready. Even Kyra stands with them, like a traitor. "Did my mother tell you to do this?" Hatred oozes from my lips as I pace. "Has she decided to get rid of me because she knows I'm already stronger than she'll ever be? She's jealous of me, you know that, don't you?"

Annalise drops her hands and anguish fills her face. "Lark, Malin is dead."

29.

Annalise clings to me. Her tears dampen my hair.

"Beck Channing murdered your mother," she whispers as I thrash against her tight embrace.

"No. You're wrong. No."

"He murdered her," she repeats. And repeats. And repeats until my heart shatters, unable to withstand any more pain.

Beck, I scream in my mind. Where are you? What's happening?

Silence.

I know you can hear me. Tell me you didn't do this. "Tell me," I yell out loud.

"He killed Malin," Annalise says, her voice cracking. "If...if I had been there, maybe I could have stopped him." Her face contorts and she presses her lips together as if to hold in a cry.

Please answer me. My nails dig into my palms. "No. It's a mistake." It has to be. Mother can't be dead. She can't be.

"Close your eyes, Lark." Annalise's magic washes over me. "Close your eyes and rest."

My name is Lark Greene. I am a descendant of the Founder Caitlin Greene. I live in the big blue house at the end of a cul-de-sac with my housemates and Beck. Bethina is my housemother. In a few weeks, Beck and I will be bound and will receive our placements and our lives will be settled. I have a good life. A perfect life.

Fear swells in me and I bolt upright. My eyelids flutter, trying to adjust to the dim light, and my groggy brain struggles to place exactly where I am... Not Summer Hill. No. Somewhere else.

My hands grasp at the soft sheets covering my legs, and, as I slowly realize I'm in a bed, fear is replaced with terror.

Beck? I jump off the bed and run toward the window. Where are you?

With one quick movement, I yank back the curtains and the brilliant sunlight blinds me. I scan the scene outside the window. Everything looks as it should. Guards pace the edge of my property and people no more or less than usual wander past the house.

It's as if nothing has changed.

And yet, I don't feel right. Something...something...

The pain starts small, just a pinp.r.i.c.k on my finger. I shake my hand thinking I can rid myself of it.

Heat and chills alternate along my spine, and I pant for breath as the sensation gathers steam, barrels down my arm, across my shoulder and into my heart.

I double forward and vomit all over my bare feet.

With a shaking hand, I push my wristlet. "Annalise? Please, I need you. Something's wrong with me."

The p.r.i.c.ks intensify as they attack my heart. I jam my fist against my chest and a long, moan erupts from me as my knees collapse and I slump to the floor.

"She's convulsing," Dawson shouts. "We need a healer."

My mother peers down at me. Her red-rimmed eyes study me carefully, with a strange curiosity. "It's almost done, Love. It's almost over."

My throat burns, but I manage to say, "Mother? I thought you were dead."

Annalise grabs my leg and her wide eyes are full of concern. "What's wrong with her? Why is she hallucinating?"

"Can't you see her?" I whisper.

The pain builds and stretches until I'm completely consumed. Mother c.o.c.ks her head and places one finger over her smiling lips while resting her other hand against my forehead. "Shhh. The Dark magic is making you whole."

Pain shoots into my heart. It surrounds the one good thing in me Beck's Light and obliterates it.

30.

"Beck Channing murdered your mother." Annalise offers her tablet to me. "The evidence is overwhelming."

Words cover the screen. I don't feel like reading any more d.a.m.ning accounts and wave my hand in refusal.

"Who is he working with?" I ask in a choked voice.

Annalise scans the doc.u.ment. "The Light witches are in chaos and many of them are now following Eamon. However, it appears Beck wanted to show he was strong and get the Light witches to rally around him."

I rub my fingers over my eyebrows. In my bedroom, he told me he wanted to lead the Light witches. In the garden, he said he was sorry. That he hadn't wanted whatever he did to happen. He confessed, but I thought he was talking about getting caught with me.