Lexi nodded again and colors around Zach started to blur once more as the vision changed. This time, Lexi was a few years older. She was in the car with her mother, looking out the window as they passed by a middle school. A pile of kids her age poured out of the doors, laughing and eager to get out of there. “Why can’t I go to school?” she asked her mom.
“It’s not safe. I teach you everything you need to know, Ali.”
Lexi crossed her arms over her chest, slid down lower in the seat and pouted. “I don’t like that name.”
“Fine. You can pick your name for the next town.”
“Alexandra Johnson.”
“No. You can’t use your real name. You know that.”
“It’s not fair. I’m tired of moving, Mom. I just want to be normal.”
Her mother sighed as if preparing herself to repeat something for the thousandth time. “You’re never going to be normal, Ali. The Sentinels want your blood. If we stay in one place too long, they’ll find you and kill you. I’m not going to let that happen.”
“We’ve never even seen one of the Sentinels, only their pets,” complained Lexi.
“I’ve seen them. They look like men with trees growing on their chests, but inside, they’re rotted meat and maggots.”
“I don’t believe you. You’re just trying to scare me.”
The car rocked to a skidding stop and people behind them honked their horns. Lexi’s mom ignored them and turned in her seat, her blue eyes blazing with fury. “You should be scared. Only stupid people aren’t scared. I want you to stop this nonsense or we’re going to have to go see the Defenders again.”
Fear bleached Lexi’s face of color. “No, Mom. Please.”
“So, you do remember the lessons they taught you?”
“Yes.”
“And what did they teach you?”
Tears shimmered in Lexi’s dark eyes. “Naughty girls die screaming.”
Zach reached out to take her into his arms and comfort her, but before he could, the vision shifted again, melting the image of Lexi’s tearful face into a wash of color.
This time, when the vision stopped, Lexi was driving. It was winter and snow was falling hard enough that there were only slight tracks on the road ahead of her. The Honda’s windshield wipers were slapping back and forth on high speed, leaving filmy streaks of ice behind.
Lexi’s body slumped with fatigue and her eyes were red as if she hadn’t slept in days. Or maybe she’d been crying. Every few seconds, she’d check her rearview mirror and grip the steering wheel tighter in her gloved hands.
A snow-topped sign indicated a rest stop ahead and Lexi took the ramp. She parked her car as close to the bathroom as she could, but didn’t get out. Instead, she climbed into the backseat, unrolled a sleeping bag and slid inside, shoes and all. She zipped it up to the top and pulled a stocking cap down over her ears. Already, snow had covered the car’s windows, nearly blocking out the security light over her car.
She touched a photograph of her mother with the tip of a gloved finger. “Good night, Mom. Miss you.” Her breath came out in a silver plume of frost. Even inside the car it was freezing.
Lexi snuggled down inside the sleeping bag as far as she could and covered her head. Even in the dim light, he could see the shiny fabric of the sleeping bag quake with her shivering.
Zach ached to go to her, warm her. But he couldn’t. He wasn’t really there—this was all in her past—and there was nothing he could do but observe and squirm in frustration.
How many nights had she slept in her car? How many nights had it been colder than this one? Even without the threat of Synestryn, she was still putting herself in danger sleeping at a rest stop. Any lunatic could have broken through the window and stolen her away, or killed her outright.
The fact that she’d survived despite the odds only made her that much more of a miracle. His miracle.
Finally, the vision faded, and even though only a brief few seconds had gone by, those seconds had changed Zach. They’d given him a small part of Lexi and that somehow made him feel more whole.
As reality returned, placing him back inside the dusty cabin, Zach was finally able to touch her. He reached for her, realized he still held his sword and let it drop. He wiped the blood from his cut—which was already closing—on his shirt and moved onto the bed next to her.
Lexi stared out with unseeing eyes, witnessing whatever it was the luceria wanted her to see. He hoped that whatever she saw was something good—some brave, noble deed he’d done along the way. He didn’t want her to see how much he’d suffered through his life. She deserved to only see the good parts, and not to be burdened by sympathy for him.
Lexi made a pained noise and swayed. Zach pulled her against him to steady her, reveling in the feeling of her so solid and warm in his arms. So alive and safe. She leaned her cheek against his shoulder and he could feel the rush of air from her lungs sweeping across his skin.
She was his. Even as his pulse steadied, the pain that had been with him for so long started to fade. In its place he felt a sense of contentment and purpose. Utter rightness.
“You okay?” he asked her.
She gave a shaky nod. “I hope so. That was. . . .”
“What did you see?”
“Battle. You and Drake and a hundred other men fighting back monsters. Century after century.”
“Synestryn,” he said, giving her the name for their enemy.
Her breathing had evened out, but her color was still not right. She was pale and trembling, but even so, she was strong enough to push him down so she could straddle his stomach and look into his eyes.
Lexi cupped his face in her hands and the feel of her slender fingers on his skin rekindled some of that lust he thought the vision had quenched. Her expression was serious and her dark eyes slid over his features, studying them.
Was she already thinking about leaving? Storing up memories of him like she had photos of her mother?