The Vanishing Throne Read Online Free PDF Page B

I pull up another image of my mother. Her smile, her laugh, the way she could always—
    â€œ Kam .” Kiaran’s voice, louder this time. More insistent.
    â€œGo away,” I hiss. I press my fingers harder into the bites beneath the sleeve of my shift. My nails dig in. Focus. Remember .
    His impatient Highland brogue tears through my concentration. “Goddamn it, open your eyes and look at me.”
    What the . . . ? My eyes fly open. Oh, lord . My imagination doesn’t do Kiaran justice. He’s standing over me, inky black hair long enough to rest at the collar of his pale wool shirt. My memories never could quite capture the way light gives his skin a tawny glow, or the way his eyes are as bright and vivid as a lilac in bloom.
    I can’t help it; my gaze lingers on his cheek, where the light shield had burned him so badly that I could see the bone beneath. All of his injuries have healed over with smooth, unblemished skin.
    He can’t be real. I’m only imagining him. Not real. “You said you couldn’t enter the Sìth-bhrùth ,” I say, certain now. Lonnrach must have created him just to torture me. He’s changing tactics. “Not without dying.”
    With an impatient look, Kiaran holds out his hand. When I reach for him—entirely without thinking—my fingers pass through his skin. They pass through . As if he was a bloody specter.
    I snatch my hand back. “So Lonnrach did conjure you up. Well, it won’t work.”
    He mutters a curse, so very Kiaran-like. Lonnrach is good at this.
    â€œI can project myself here without dying,” Kiaran says, sounding somewhat irritated. “If I feel inclined to use an exhausting amount of power.”
    I’m still suspicious. “Then why have you never visited before?”
    â€œLonnrach put wards up that made it difficult to track you, and they take time to dismantle. My sister is still working through the one that leads to this room.” He gestures to himself. “She was able to lift it just enough for this form to pass through while she finishes. Satisfied?”
    If I allow myself to believe him . . . no. I can’t. Lonnrach has been in my mind. I’ve taken his food. He can make me see whatever he wants. “No. I don’t believe you.”
    â€œYour stubbornness is commendable, truly,” Kiaran says dryly. “I’m grateful you still have it.”
    â€œSee? That’s how I know you’re Lonnrach’s creation.” I wag my finger at him. “Kiaran always hated my stubbornness.”
    â€œHonestly, at the moment I’m having a hard time not mistaking it for stupidity.”
    I glare at him. “As a figment of my imagination, I demand you stop insulting me.” I press my fingernails into the grooves of the bite-marks again and shut my eyes. “And go away.”
    He’s quiet for so long, I swear he must have gone. I refuse to open my eyes to find out.
    â€œKam.” This time when Kiaran says my name, I hear the hint of emotion there barely contained.
    When I open my eyes, he’s staring down at me—no, not at me. At where my fingernails are embedded. The sleeve of my shift has slipped back to reveal the length of my forearm. I watch as he takes in my new scars, my scabbing marks, up to my neck, where a dozen more are puckered and healed over. The latest one, just above my collarbone, is still bleeding.
    I don’t think I’ve ever seen his expression so cold and brutal. Not like this. Lonnrach could never have pulled that from my memories. This is really Kiaran. Kiaran . He didn’t abandon me. He’s here for me.
    Kiaran kneels by my side. This time when he reaches for me, his touch is solid. I’m startled by it. It’s been daysweeksmonthsyears since I’ve been touched by someone other than Lonnrach and I almost forgot how gentleness felt. I don’t pull away. Not even when