Dead of Winter (25 page)

“As do we. We are
wed
.” Aric set down his bottle, moving in front of me. “I think of you as mine. You don't see the countless times a day I have to stop myself from touching my wife.” His eyes were just on the verge of glowing. Like this, his gaze reminded me less of stars, and more of a sunrise.

In time, would I forget what a sunrise looked like?

I caught his knight's scent: rain, steel, and
man
. My toes curled in my boots. Whenever he was free of his armor, I could detect hints of pine and sandalwood.

He wedged his hips between my knees. With our faces inches apart,
he said, “If you had any idea what is going on inside me . . . I'm feeling something I have never experienced, not in my twenty centuries of life.”

I swallowed, unsure if I wanted to hear him say the words.

His irises brightened and brightened. Eyes fully aglow, he rasped, “I am in love with you.” Irresistible Death. “And you love me in turn.”

I gazed at his mouth, recalling how I'd kissed that faint dip in his bottom lip. “Why would you say that?” My voice sounded so far away.

“My fierce Empress protected me before you left our home. Your concern told me much.” Pride lit his expression. “What foe did you think might get to me, little wife?”

Flustered, I said, “I didn't know, okay? You said you were always a target.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, as if in reward. When he drew back, he gave me a real smile, not a smirk, not a grudging half-grin. I'd only seen this a couple of times before.

And it was
devastating
.

Inner shake. “Admit it: after my poison kiss, when you were reaching for your antitoxin, you believed I'd given you a lethal dose.”

“I admit it. And I was chastised for my doubt when I woke.”

“Chastised?
Chastised?
You broke my heart that night! You didn't notice—or care—how much you were hurting me!”

“When I recognized that you weren't over your infatuation with the mortal, I might have been . . . testing you.” He'd tested me the other night as well! “I needed to know if you felt something as strong for me.”

“What if I'd surrendered?”

His lips parted as if he was imagining that even now. “I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I'm glad you didn't. You told me that you would grow to hate me. I didn't believe it then, but I do now. I should never have put you in that situation.”

“Testing me doesn't excuse what you did. Coercion is not cool.”

He backed away, stabbing his fingers through his hair. “Then
teach
me what is! I have no experience with a wife, but you know my capacity for learning. I can learn to be what you need.”

“I don't think something like that can be taught. It's part of your makeup, part of who you are.”

“My upbringing and history have shaped me, but I do evolve. Going into each game, I've adapted to different epochs.”

Epochs? How did he endure it? When he was this close to me, I could
feel
his palpable yearning. I could sense that gut-wrenching loneliness he'd suffered.

I pictured him in his mausoleum of a home, surveying all his lifeless collections. He'd devotedly tended to those treasures, those relics of the past, because they were all he had—all he'd ever hoped to have.

“Aric, selfless acts might be beyond you. And even sex with you would come with strings. What if I hadn't realized you were minus one condom?” The memory stoked my fury. “You were about to trick me—to betray
me
.”

He raised his blond brows. “There was no trick,
sievā
. I didn't set out to deceive you.”

“You had my entire future mapped out—with me knocked up—and you never mentioned it to me.”

He moved in front of me again, gripping the counter on either side of my hips. “It's been this way between husbands and wives for thousands of years. At the time, I thought if we were so blessed, then all the better.”

Because his concepts about marriages and families were from a different
epoch
.

He swallowed. “You accuse me of calculation; know that I haven't enough experience in this subject to calculate.” A flush covered his high cheekbones. “I was barely capable of speech when I saw you naked in my bed for the first time—much less plotting.”

Just like that, my anger deflated. I sighed. “I believe you.”

He placed one hand on the wall above me. With his other, he cupped the side of my face. “Then we've already begun. We will learn to trust each other.”

Jack had said something similar. My gaze flicked toward the door.

Aric dropped his hand. “I both applaud and curse your sense of loyalty. Without it, you'd be mine. Right now, we'd be in our bed, having just shared our first kiss of the night.”

I laid my palms on Aric's armored chest to push him away. My hands looked so pale and fragile against his intimidating armor. How many times had I clawed this metal, desperate to get away from him?

At length, he backed away. “The mortal has another he cares for, would risk his life for.” He took a seat at the table.

“Jack doesn't love Selena.”

“Maybe he could if you gave him cause to. Let him go, then give them your blessing.”

My heart hurt just to think about it. If another of Jack's
opportunities
came up, would he take it? At least, in time?

“Things will be different when you come home with me. I'll teach you about the game. We'll investigate the histories and chronicles I've collected. I'll teach you more about your powers.”

“But you won't simply
tell
me about them?”

He pointed to his swords. “I can tell you how to wield a sword, but you won't have built up the strength to hold it yet. You won't have practiced. How much success will you have brandishing it in a conflict?”

“You're not my only resource. I can get help from my grandmother. Not to mention Matthew. And he doesn't require anything in return.”

A troubled expression crossed Aric's face. “Empress, let him
rest
.” His tone left me with a sense of unease—

The timer went off, startling me.

Before I could blink, Aric was in front of me, reaching for my hand. He expected me to fend off bloodthirsty zombies by myself, yet offered assistance down from a counter?

“What can I do to help?”

“Find some plates and forks.”

Once we'd sat down to our meal, I said, “It's not as fancy as you generally like things.”

“The company is so exquisite, she makes everything so.”

“You can be smooth—I give you that.”

“
Labu apetīti.
Good appetite.” He took a bite. “This is surprisingly delicious.”

“You're just saying that.” I sampled mine, my eyes going wide. “It's really good.”

Between his slow grins, the hot food, and the cold beer, I started to relax. By the time I'd finished my plate, my belly was full, my mind buzzed.

“I sense questions simmering in you.” He appeared as relaxed as I felt. “Ask them.”

He'd once told me I'd asked more questions in this life than in the ones before combined.

“Why did Matthew call you Tredici? Is that your last name?” I didn't even know Aric's surname. Of course, it'd taken me three months just to get his first.

“
Tredici
is Italian for thirteen, my card number. I believe the Fool hailed from Italy once.”

Matthew had introduced himself as “Matthew Mat Zero Matto.”
Il Matto
meant
The Fool
in Italian.

As I turned over this new information, Aric said, “My last name—and yours as well—is DomÄ«nija.”

Before I could stop myself, I'd tried it out in my head: Evangeline Greene Domīnija. That'd be a bitch to bubble in on a test.

I didn't bother to argue the point with him. “Will you tell me why Matthew owed you a debt?”

“I kept a secret for him.”

Was I finally going to discover this connection between the two? “And that would be . . . ?”

“. . . not a secret if I told you.”

“But he reneged.”

Aric's lips curled. “And yet I do not.”

Dead end.

When he rose to get more beers, I asked, “What were my given names in the past?”

He hesitated on his way back. “I've uttered those names . . . I felt . . .” At length, he said, “I'd rather not discuss this.” Still so affected after all this time?

He sat once more, opening the bottles.

I gazed at his right hand, at the four miniature icons that represented his kills: a white star, navy-blue weighing scales, two black horns, and a gold chalice. “Do you ever feel the heat of battle?”

“I did. I learned to control it when I met you.” He peered at my own icons: a lantern and a pair of raised fingers. “The Fool told me you consider your Empress nature to be a separate entity. A
red witch
.”

“He told you that?” How embarrassing! It made me sound like a psycho. Jack knew about it, but only because he'd listened to my story on tape.

Aric shrugged his armored shoulders. “After the Flash, I saw you restrain your Empress nature again and again. I was curious how.”

“Jack helps with that.”

Aric's lips thinned. “When you stabbed me with your claws, but withheld your poison, he wasn't near. Did this ‘red witch' not whisper for you to end me when I was defenseless before you? Yet you protected me instead.”

“That's true,” I admitted. “She's icon crazy, but I controlled her. When I told Matthew that, he wanted to know if I could
invoke
her.”

“You've reined in your red witch—because you've never truly
unleashed
her. You must learn how.”

“Pardon? I didn't hear you correctly. I poisoned a mine full of cannibals. My vines cracked the Alchemist's house like an egg.”

“And still you drew on only a fraction of your power.”

For so long, I'd feared going full-on Empress—and never turning back to Evie. Just when I was starting to feel more in control, Aric and Matthew wanted to amp up the red witch. “Say I could free her more. What if she wanted to kill you?”

“I wouldn't fight you. So you'd have to figure out how to rein her in at any time.”

“It's too dangerous.” In my first combat against Death, I'd embraced her. I remembered telling myself,
I
am
the red witch!
 . . .
I'm going to win the entire game!
Which would mean that all my friends would be dead. “I've been doing okay.”

“Some of the remaining Arcana have unspeakable powers. You'll need to invoke your witch to survive—just as those Bagmen summoned their strength to rise.”

“Unless I stop the game.”

“There are some who'll keep coming, even if they don't have to.”

“Like the Emperor.”

At the mere mention of that card, Aric's demeanor changed, his irises darkening to cold amber once more.

“What happened with him?”

“It's a matter too wearisome for our night together.” He drank deep. “Tell me about your grandmother.”

His expression was so stark that I let him change the subject. For now. “Don't you already know as much as I do? Since you trespassed in my thoughts for so long.”

“Not constantly. I did have my own life to go about. Such as it was.”

My chest squeezed at his words. I drank to cover my dismay. “I don't remember her all that well. Sometimes my memories contradict each other.”

“How so?”

“I'll see her as kind and affectionate. In the next instance, I'll recall her wanting me to become ‘vicious.' ” What if she tried to convince me to take out other cards? My friends?

Aric, even.

Maybe Arcana weren't inherently evil. Maybe our chroniclers or relatives molded us. “In any case, I swore to my mom I'd find her. So I will.”

“And I will help you. You know sourcing is a talent of mine—doesn't matter if I'm looking for ballet shoes or my wife's grandmother.”

“Yeah, I don't see that working out too well. She was furious at me when I mooned over your card.”

“You forget how charming I can be.”

Never. “I once asked Matthew if you would prevent me from reaching Gran. He told me the subject bored you, that you don't believe in her as I do. So why would you help me?” I finished my beer.

Like a blur, Aric had another round on the table. “As a Tarasova, she knows a great many things.”

“You didn't answer the question.”

“I don't have to believe that she holds the key to the game's end. You do—and I believe in you.”

Smooth, tricksy knight. “What's the difference between a Tarasova and a chronicler?” How did Gran differ from Gabriel's people?

“Chroniclers are historians and guides. Some say each Tarasova is gifted with the sight. Others say she must be a minor Arcana.”

The last time I'd seen Gran, her brown eyes had twinkled as she'd told me,
“You're going to kill them all.”

A chill ran through me.

“Sievā?”

I changed the subject. “Now that you're making the effort to trust me, will you tell me about your childhood?”

He inclined his head. “I told you my father was a warlord, but he was also a noted scholar. He raised me to be both as well. I had martial practice every day, then reading, then debates after dinner.” Aric peeled at his beer label, then smoothed it back with his elegant fingers. “I can't imagine what he would think about all that mankind has learned. In his day, everyone believed the world was flat.”