Lucian briefly closed his eyes, his arms tightening around her. “Yes,” he finally managed. “We are important to each other.”
“So, if this treatment will help me remember you, then do it. I want to remember the man that makes me feel all of that.”
He groaned. “You don’t know what you’re asking me to do.”
“Yes, I do.”
He tried to shake his head, but she stopped him with another soft brush of her fingers against his cheek. “Please.”
“Okay,” he agreed, unable to deny her anything. Especially when his heart longed for the same. “I’m going to need you to lie back, alright?”
She nodded, and Lucian finally dropped his arms, watching her settle herself back on the ground. “Like this?” she asked.
“Yes. Perfect.” Lucian started to draw on his power.
Effie let out a soft gasp. “Beautiful.”
He blinked at her. “What’s beautiful?”
“Your eyes. They’re glowing.”
Lucian wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Her honesty cut almost as deep as the loss of her memories, if only because it underscored how much was at stake. “Close your eyes for me,” he whispered, his voice strangled.
She obeyed immediately and even that hurt. Since when did his fledgling ever do anything he asked without a fight? Her unconditional trust was a gift he did not deserve.
Not when he’d been deceiving her since the day they met.
Palms resting on his thighs, Lucian let his power build around him. As it did, memories began to gather and swell in his mind. Memories that did not belong to him, but were no less his because of how they were obtained.
Memories he’d discovered in another place . . . while wearing a different form . . . and answering to a different name.
A name she’d gifted him.
Navy runes broke out across his skin, flaring with the same metallic brilliance as his eyes. Lifting his hand, he pressed his palm against the center of her forehead and then opened the telepathic connection that would irrevocably link them.
Effie’s body bowed up off of the ground, her mouth opening on a silent gasp as she received not only her memories, but a power that would transform her more completely than the corruption ever had.
Lucian’s power.
Smoke’s power.
A Guardian’s power.
Part II
Guardian
“It matters not what someone is born,
but what they grow to be.”
J.K. Rowling
Chapter 15
If she still had a body, Effie couldn’t feel it. She was formless, existing in a state of consciousness that occurred outside any mortal definitions. For the first time in her life she was truly free.
Thoughts and voices swirled around her in a vibrant wash of colors she’d never seen before. Curls of silver caught her attention and Effie focused harder on them, bringing them into sharp and stunning relief. As she watched, more of the misty curls took shape until she was surrounded by thick clouds of smoke and enfolded in a cocoon of contentment.
As the clouds formed, one of the indistinguishable voices that had been murmuring in the background became clear. “Effie.”
Warmth exploded from her center . . . if she had a center. It was hard to know without a body.
This voice she knew, absolutely. Although it was altered somehow. Less insubstantial than usual. No longer just smoky echoes of a campfire, but rich with layers. Both crackling fire and delicious heat.
“Effie.” The voice was impatient, but also amused. As if it knew she was distracted.
Effie tried to call out, only to be brought up short. How was she supposed to answer without a mouth?
“You need only think and I can hear you, fledgling.”
Two faces obscured by the smoke floated into her view, blurring and merging as they fought for her attention. Before she could place either face, a discordant note vibrated throughout her consciousness, interrupting her musings. Only one person ever called her fledgling, and he’d never spoken in her mind before.
“Lucian? Am I dreaming?”
“No.”
“Then how?”
“You know the answer, Effie.”
And she did. It was right there, as if she’d summoned it. One man with two faces. They were one and the same.
“Smoke.”
“Yes.”
More of the pleasant numbness faded away, leaving her mind feeling crowded and heavy. It was hard to focus under the pressure. She struggled against it, preferring the weightlessness of before.
“You can’t fight it, Effie. But if you let me, I can show you how to mute it.”
“Yes,” she eagerly agreed. Anything to keep from being smothered under the strain.
“It helps the first time to visualize it. I want you to imagine a bowl or chalice. The object doesn’t matter so long as it’s a vessel that needs to be refilled.”
As he spoke, a bronze goblet took form. It was old; tiny fissures snaking through its metallic surface.
Lucian’s startled laugh, a deep, husky rumble, moved through her like growls of thunder. Or maybe it was lightning, and she was the rod that channeled its unrelenting force. There was another rumble. “Focus, Effie. And try for something a little more substantial, please. The goal is not to lose that which we pour into it.”
With a thought, she smoothed out the small cracks in her chalice, patching them with molten gold.
“Good. Now we fill it up.”
“With what?”
“Everything that makes you Effie.”
“As opposed to everything that makes me someone else?”
She felt his amusement as clearly as if it were her own. Effie wanted to burrow down in its warmth and stay there.
“The first transformation is always the most difficult. It is hard to imagine ourselves as a series of defining moments or relationships, but when you learn to embrace the things that created the person you are, it’s easier to pull them close and be them once more.”
“Is that supposed to make sense?”
“It will in time. For now, just do as I say.”
“How can I obey something I don’t understand?”
Lucian sighed. It wove through her, giving Effie form only long enough for her to feel the rush of breath like a caress. Mind-speaking this way was beyond intimate. In this state, she was wholly exposed, any mental barriers she might have once had obliterated. They were connected so completely it was as if they’d become one.
“When I am Smoke, I need to let go of Lucian. I send away everything that defines him—”
The words should have been jarring. The secret they so casually revealed deserving of further exploration, but Effie was interested only in contradicting them. “Not everything.” Surprise—Lucian’s—rippled through her. “Pieces of him remain.”
“Well, we are the same in the end. Elements of us will always be connected.”
“So, it’s not just an illusion? Smoke’s body?”
“It is . . . and it isn’t. It is simply another form I take when required. Two sides of the same coin. As a member of the Triumvirate, Smoke is bound by different rules. There are things I can do—and be—as Smoke that I could never accomplish as Lucian.”