Kings and Sirens (The Blood Falls Book 2)

6 Months Later…

Leena

Winter was colder this year. At least it felt that way to me. I sat in our great library at the House of Wren in front of a roaring fire. The blankets around me helped keep out the chill, but the problem wasn’t really the layer of snow outside or the Arctic winds blowing in from the north. It was the empty chasm in my heart that really made me feel like I was made of ice inside.

I hadn’t seen Atsila in four months. Not since the last excursion went north of the Line and found, once again, nothing. The Salishan had vanished. There was no trace of them on the Plane either. Had they been swallowed by a rift or was there something else at play?

We didn’t know and there was no point in wandering around looking for shadows. The Heida promised to send for me if the Salishan returned or if they found some need for my gifts.

So I left and came home to lick my wounds and hide from Atsila. I couldn’t forget the haunted look in his eyes the last time I saw him. I put that there.

I thought I loved him, but you don’t hurt the people you love. Not like that. Whatever affection I thought I felt must have been lust instead. I couldn’t deny that I still wanted him. Still felt the pull of his body on mine. Surely one day it would fade. He’d take his Heida bride and become King and keep all his family safe. It was his Destiny.

Mine lay somewhere else. I just didn’t know where yet. So instead I busied myself helping Bridge read through ancient, untouched copies of Wren history. Reaching the end of the monstrosity I was currently holding, I closed the leather cover and tossed it aside, picking up a nearly identical copy and cracked it open.

A small cloud of dust escaped as I turned the pages. I sneezed.

“How ya doing over there?” Bridge asked. She stood at the table organizing books. One stack was volumes we’d been through, categorized based on subject. Another stack were the ones we still had to go through. That pile was significantly larger.

“Our ancestors need a lesson in the craft of writing. These are boring. Boring, boring, boring!” The words blurred together and I had to blink several times to bring them back into focus.

“It’s history. It’s not fiction.”

“So? Who says history has to be boring? In fact, I reject this notion. History should be told as stories. Good stories with colorful details and messy dead ends. There should be cliffhangers and gossip. This fact-based chronicle is dry as the dust flying off these pages. No one cares!”

“I care.” Bridge scowled at me. Not playfully either. She genuinely seemed angry with me. “I care a hell of a lot, actually. And this isn’t dry, it’s simple. There’s no fluff to cut through. Here are the facts. Plain and simple.”

My sister was wrong, but I didn’t say that aloud. I didn’t need a fight on top of boredom. Magdalena of Wren agrees to the request from Aethel the Elder to form a House on the continent now called America. This single line describing the day my ancestor, named Aethel like my sister, decided to take part of the House of Wren and move to Blood Falls. It could be so much more interesting and contain some depth. What was the weather that day? What led her to want to move? Was it to escape? For adventure? What color was her hair? If this were a story instead of a chronicle I would be able to feel it. Picture it. It would be almost as if I were there too. History come to life.

“I need a walk.” If I attempted to keep reading this drivel I’d fall asleep and get nothing done anyway. Might as well stretch my legs and get some fresh air.

“I’m sorry.” Bridge frowned. “I’m just so caught up in all this. I get too pushy.”

“No, it’s important to all of us. If there’s information in here that we can use to close these rifts, then we need to find it.” It was late afternoon and the light coming in the windows had begun to slant at an angle, fading into shadows as the sun descended behind the mountain.

And if a manual on dealing with the Heida fell out somewhere, I’d totally read that. I technically knew them better than any other samhain at this point, and I was more confused than ever by their over-the-top personalities and introversion. Some ancient insight into what made them, them, would be as useful as anything else.

Temperatures hadn’t climbed above freezing in over a week, so it took me a minute to layer on a sweater and flannel before zipping up my jacket. Then on went my boots, gloves, and hat. The nearby kitchen still felt empty without Bethany in it, but she was having the time of her life now that Sun was free of his obligations as the Doctor. I was happy for her. It just took some getting used to.

A foot of snow covered the ground, but we kept the paths cleared. A family of snow creatures were sculpted between the house and the barn where Kris lived. A sledding area sloped down past that.

“Where you off to, sister dear?” Kris called from the barn.

“Out of the house for a bit. Maybe down to the falls?” I wandered closer to the open barn door and saw that Kris was covered in grease, as usual, doing maintenance on the tractor. His curls poked out from his faded red ball cap. “What are you up to?”

He shrugged. “Tractor hasn’t had a good overhaul this year. And I’m stuck on my Mustang rebuild so I’m bored.”

“Stuck how?” I glanced across the rows of cars to the back where Kris worked on his projects.

“One of the parts I need is stuck in some Denver processing center, another is backordered for three more months, and the seat I salvaged at the junkyard last month isn’t fitting right for some reason.” He scowled at the wrench in his hand, placed it back in the toolbox and pulled out a screwdriver instead. “I need to clear my head is all.”

“Don’t forget the Gatlins are coming over this weekend to help us draw up a timeline from the war.”

Kris already had his head back inside the bowels of the tractor. “I love my tools but I’m not stupid, Lee.”

I put my hands up even though he couldn’t see me. “I know. Sorry. Just wanted to remind you.”

“You mean you wanted to advise me to wash my hands and wear unstained clothing.” He popped his head up and shot me a look.

“Maybe.”

“I know how to act around company even if I do avoid it as much as possible.”

That much was very true. Dray, as head of the House, was required to attend events and gatherings. Bo enjoyed it, so he went too. As the oldest female, I often went as well. But Kris was right in the middle of our pack and easily the quietest of us all. He put on the nice clothes when he had to. But only when he had to.

Which reminded me of a certain someone. I always compared Atsila to Dray because they were both grumpy leaders, but in reality, Kris had more in common with Atsila.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” His voice echoed off the engine and back at me as he twisted the screwdriver with a grunt, then stood up, wiped it down with his rag, and gave me his full attention.

Kris was leaner than Dray and Bo, but also faster. He had longish dark hair that curled slightly at his neck and around his hat. His bright blue eyes were always taking everything in, and when he really, truly smiled, he had the cutest dimples.

I hoped one day he found someone who appreciated his quiet. Someone who treated him better than I did Atsila.

“If someone made you relive the worst day of your life—like the day Mom and Dad died—is there anything they could do to earn your forgiveness?” I hated how nervous I felt asking this. I was sure Kris would see right through me. Judge me.

In true Kris fashion he thought for several long moments before he spoke. “Did they do it on purpose? To hurt me?”

I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. “Not at all. A careless accident.”

He thought some more, his lips turning down and pulling to one side. Then he scratched his forehead with his thumb. “I think intention matters a whole lot. At least it does for me. So if you’re asking because this, I don’t know, say a big assed Heida male, likes to keep away from everyone and enjoys his alone time, then I’d guess that, like me, he’s more hurt that you’re punishing yourself than he is that you accidentally caused him some pain.”

I winced. Mostly because Kris didn’t say what I wanted him to say.

He touched my elbow. “Guys like us? We don’t punish the ones we love for mistakes. We forgive, we forget, we move on to loving again.” He shot me a wicked grin that I was sure made females not related to him swoon. “We really like the lovin’.”

Was Kris right? Did I hate myself more than Atsila did? “Tell me about quiet males who like to be alone.”

“It’s not about being alone.” He kept grinning like he had a secret. “It’s about wanting to spend time with the people you care about. Only the people you care about. It’s too noisy, too…stimulating otherwise. If my choice is chaos or quiet, I’m going to take the quiet. I’d rather it be with someone, though. Much more fun that way.”

I left Kris to his machines and wandered through the snow, kicking it up and watching my feet disappear into the holes I created as I made my way down to Blood Falls. I pondered Kris’s words as I went. Was my brother right? Could Atsila forgive me for my mistake and the lives lost because of it? Would he ever want to be alone with me again?

I was afraid to hope.