Волшебное путешествие Мохнатика и Веничкина. Светлана Кривошлыкова
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“Get out, Malcolm. And don’t ever come back.”
He stared at the hard, cold fury in her eyes and wondered what had happened to the soft, caring woman he loved.
He was what happened. He’d made her like this. “Do you really hate me that much?” he asked, his voice breaking over the words.
“Yes,” she said without missing a beat.
He didn’t believe it. He couldn’t. She was being absurd. Childish. “I made some mistakes...some misjudgments—”
“Don’t kid yourself, Malcolm. You are a coldhearted, self-absorbed, power-hungry ass, and as far as I’m concerned, I don’t ever want to see you again. So I’ll tell you what. I will find your bracelet. I will rejuvenate your crystals. I will do whatever it takes to get you out of here. To go back to the Colony and never return. Is that clear?”
He took in the stiffness in her spine, the hardness in her jaw, the white knuckles of her clenched fingers, and knew there would be nothing he could say or do that would get through to her. And right then, he wished he could leave. Wished he could turn around and not have to face her, not have to break her heart any further. But he couldn’t. The Colony needed her. And they needed him to bring her to them.
“I’m sorry, Celia, but I can’t leave without you.” He took a step toward her, his hand outstretched.
She backed away. “Stay away from me,” she warned. “I will hurt you.”
“I know that I deserve your anger. I would leave you here in peace, if I could, but I can’t.”
Uncertainty and fear flashed through her eyes.
“I have to take you back to the Colony.”
“Why?” she asked, her voice rising in pitch. She could tell something was wrong; he could see it in the fear creeping into her face. But she didn’t want to face it. Didn’t want to know. And he wished like hell he didn’t have to tell her.
“The Colony needs you,” he said, his voice not much louder than a whisper.
She shook her head. “I won’t go back. I can’t,” she insisted, and turned away from him.
He took a deep steadying breath, steeling himself. “You have to, Celia. And not just for me, but for everyone. The stones surrounding the Colony need to be rejuvenated. There isn’t much time....”
She was still shaking her head. Her anger and bravado were gone now, replaced by something desperate. Something afraid. “Why can’t my mother—” She stopped midsentence as her eyes widened with a whisper of understanding.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out Jaya’s necklace, the long purple crystal hanging from a silver chain, and held it out to her. Guilt and shame burned through him. How would he say the words that would shatter her world? How could he confess the ugly truth of what he’d done?
He didn’t have to. He knew it was written all over his face.
Her head started swinging violently back and forth as a low keening wail broke free from somewhere deep inside her. The sound exploded into the air, filling the room. “Tell me!” she insisted, her hot, shimmering gaze glued to the purple stone dangling from his hand. “What happened to my mother?”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, stepping toward her. “She’s...she’s dead, Celia.”
Her loud cry ripped his soul apart. Her knees buckled and she collapsed, slowly falling to the floor. He caught her in his arms and together they fell as she cried heart-wrenching sobs, her hands clutching his shirt as she tried desperately to hang on even as her grief overwhelmed her, pulling her under.
He had done this to her. To her mother, Jaya. To them all.
None of this should have happened. He’d still be Pack leader. Jason would still be his best friend and right-hand man. Jaya would still be alive and regenerating the Colony’s crystals and Celia would still be in his house. In his bed. He wouldn’t be sitting in a heap on the floor far from home holding the woman he loved while she broke into a million pieces, shattering in his arms. Knowing he’d broken her, and there was no way he’d be able to put it all back to together again. No matter how he wished he could.
Some mistakes could never be fixed.
Celia’s sobs racked her chest, making each breath a painful gulp, as if she were trapped deep under the ocean, drowning on her tears. Wave after wave of debilitating pain crashed over her then, like the tide, rolling out, allowing denial to roll in.
This wasn’t right. Couldn’t be right. Her mother couldn’t be dead.
Awareness hit her and she found herself on the floor, clutching Malcolm, her face pressed against his chest, his shirt clutched in her fists, his scent in her nose. Furious, she tried to push him away, but he held her even tighter as she beat against his chest.
“Get out!” she blurted, and tried to stand, to put as much distance between him and herself as she could. “Get away from me.”
“Celia—”
She didn’t want to see him, didn’t want him to see her like this. He released her and she pushed away from him, quickly getting to her feet. “Don’t start. Just leave. Now.”
“I can’t. I won’t leave you. Not like this.”
“I don’t believe anything you’re saying. You’re lying. Trying to manipulate me. Trying once more to maneuver everyone around you. I’m not falling for it, Malcolm. I’m over you.”
His dark eyes widened with shock. “Do you really think I’d lie about something like this? How could you think that about me? After all we’ve been through?” He took a step toward her, his hands outstretched.
She backed away from him, brushing up against the counter as her mind finally came to accept what her heart already knew to be true. A fresh wave of pain washed over her. She wrapped her hands around her middle, grasping for something, anything that could explain the unexplainable.
That could make sense of the nonsensical.
“How?” she asked.
“Accident,” he murmured. “In the woods.”
She heard his words but couldn’t fathom them. Couldn’t wrap her mind around the possibility. “What am I supposed to do now?” Her kind, their kind, lived a long time. They didn’t have accidents. They didn’t just die.
Unless the demons...
But that wasn’t possible. The Gauliacho couldn’t get into the Colony; they couldn’t get past the crystals. She started walking around the shop, pacing, moving faster and faster. “I have to get out of here.” She swept her hands through her hair. Moving round and round. Back and forth. Muttering to herself.
“We need to go back to the Colony,” Malcolm said, his voice calm. Authoritative.
“No. I won’t.”
“The crystals need to be rejuvenated. It’s already been four days since... We need you.”
She stopped pacing and looked at him, her eyes narrowing. “Go without me. I will be there when I can. I can’t just up and leave right now.”
“Celia. You can’t send me away.”
“Really? You mean like you did to me?”
He stilled, distress crumpling his face.
“Why can’t I?” she demanded, not wanting to hear his excuses, his denials.
“I told you. I lost my bracelet in the canyon when an Abatu attacked me.” He touched the wound on his head. “They’ve already got my scent.