Nightingale (The Sensitives) Part 14

She's right. Today is about her and Maz. Not me and my problems.

"Hold still, Kyra. This is going to take longer if you keep fidgeting," her mother orders. She and the hair stylist have been brushing and tugging on Kyra's curls for at least an hour. So far, I've seen no change. Her hair looks as unruly as ever.

"Can't we just magic her hair into place?" I ask as I study Kyra's reflection in the mirror. I've always thought she looked like a cross between Mother and Caitlyn Greene and now I know why.

Both Kyra and her mother giggle. "Lark, I swear, sometimes you're too funny." Kyra's reflection winks at me. When I continue to scowl, she adds, "We're being traditional."

So that's a 'no,' I guess.

Her mother hands emerald encrusted pins to the stylist and he jams them into Kyra's hair. If it were me, I'd be flinching and crying out in pain, but Kyra doesn't move.

I sigh. In a few days, I'm going to be the one standing before the mirror. Only there won't be any smiles and laughter.

My binding is going to feel like a funeral.

All morning, I've been trying to decide if Kyra knows about Ryker, but it's hard to tell with the way she's bouncing around the room. Part of me believes she has to know. There's no way Ryker didn't tell Maz, who of course would tell Kyra. Plus, she made all those comments about Ryker and me.

Still, Kyra's never been good at keeping secrets. And this is a big one.

She twists and turns before the mirror, admiring her reflection.

There's no way she knows. Which means I have to find the right time to tell her. I know she's going to think it's a wonderful idea. But I don't want to hear about how much sense it makes, or how perfect Ryker and I are for each other.

I want my best friend to at least try to understand how binding to another boy, even if it's in name only, makes my skin crawl. I want her to hold my hand and let me cry on her shoulder. But Kyra won't do either of these things. She'll tell me to stop dwelling on Beck.

"Did you count the candles?" Kyra says, breaking my train of thought. "There are supposed to be one hundred and twenty-three."

My main tasks, so far, have been running errands, double checking candle counts, and trying to keep the bride and her mother, Tabitha, from murdering each other. We both can't wait for Tabitha to leave, but for different reasons.

"Everything looks perfect," I say as I walk over to retrieve Kyra's gown. It hangs from the back of the door, ready to be worn, and her shoes sit below it. The whole thing looks a little like a ghost wearing a dress.

A quick glance at my wristlet confirms the ceremony starts in thirty minutes. We have to hurry up.

"Leave us. Go greet guests or something." Kyra bats her mother's hand away from her hair. I shouldn't be surprised her mother and the stylists do as they're told. Not with Kyra's ability to control people with her touch.

And yet I am.

A slow realization washes over me. Kyra can make her mother do what she wants. My hand hovers in the air, holding the dress high. What if...

The hanger slips from my fingers and I dart my hands out to catch it before it crumples on the ground. Kyra will never forgive me if I ruin the dress.

"Careful, Lark!"

I grasp the hanger and hold it high over my head so that the bottom doesn't drag on the ground. Kyra's several inches taller than me and even with heels on, the dress is still too long for me.

"Sorry." Hope bubbles in my heart as I unlace the back of the dress.

What if I can force Mother to change her mind? Is it even possible?

"I thought they'd never leave." Kyra pats down an imaginary stray piece of hair. "I'm so happy I only have to deal with her a few times a year. Can you imagine having to be with your parents all. The. Time?"

"I can, because I live with mine." I bend down and hold the dress open so Kyra can step into it.

"Malin likes it, you know." Kyra grabs hold of the bed's footboard.

"Likes what?" I ask as my fingers fumble with the lacing up the back of the dress. I tug and pull, and Kyra sucks in her already flat stomach.

"That you're almost as strong as she is." Kyra lifts the hem of the gown and holds out her foot. I kneel and tie crisp bows around each of her ankles. "Annalise says you're like a new toy for Malin. She has no idea what you're going to do. And it excites her."

"That makes two of us. The unpredictableness, I mean. Not the excitement."

Kyra spins and the dress billows around her. She's always been adorable with her dark curls and big eyes, but today she looks radiant. "Speaking of Malin, what did she want yesterday?"

It's the question I've wanted her to ask since I walked in the door, but seeing her so happy, so giddy over the upcoming ceremony, I think it's best to wait. I don't want to ruin her moment with my bad mood.

"Just going over a few matters of State." It's true...in a way.

Kyra puts her hand on her hip and juts out her bottom lip. "You're lying."

If I wanted, I could claim confidentiality, but I need my best friend. I sigh. "She demanded I pick a new mate."

Kyra's hands fly over her mouth and she squeaks. "What's his name? Is he cute? When is the ceremony?"

She doesn't know. That small fact somehow makes me feel better. Still, I scrunch up my face and pry one eye open. "It's Ryker."

Kyra shrieks as she jumps up and down, clapping in delight. "I knew it! I told Maz the two of you would be paired off! And why shouldn't you be? You've been raised together, you both need mates." Kyra's switched to rapid fire mode and I find myself growing dizzy from her a.s.sault. "This is so exciting! We're going to have to get right to work. Tomorrow. We can pick out your gown and your shoes. Who do you want to attend? Our old housemates? The Dark ones, obviously. But what about the humans? Do you think Malin will mind? Obviously we can't invite Lena."

I don't want to talk about this, but I don't want to upset Kyra either. "How about we wait until after today? We have more important things to do, right now." I pick up her wrap from the back of a chair and hand it to her.

Kyra grins at me. "If you insist. I do have a little thing called a binding to get to." She giggles again and covers her shoulders with the wrap.

Suddenly, the smile fades from her face and panic replaces it. She paces to the far corner before wandering back to me.

"What if I mess this up? Say the wrong thing or something?"

"Then we'll laugh and you'll still be bound to Maz at the end of the day."

She grabs my hands between hers. "The binding, does it hurt? When you combine magic?"

My throat tightens and I force words out. "No. It feels amazing. Like you're being made complete."

She drops my hands and kisses me on the cheek. "Thank you, Lark. For being my best friend."

Without waiting, like she knows I need a moment alone, she hurries to the door and disappears into the hallway. I dab the corner of my eye with my thumb.

"And when you're ripped from one another, it feels like you're dying every day. With every breath," I whisper into the emptiness around me.

Kyra's head touches Maz's as she leans closer to him. His hand slips around hers and their fingers intertwine. Kyra's father, Liam, lays a hand on each of their shoulders and Maz's mother sprinkles scented water over them. The drops splatter across the silk of Kyra's gown like tiny teardrops.

"To you, I give my heart, my soul and my life," Kyra says. Her voice catches slightly, but she's beaming. This is what she's waiting for since we were twelve and Maz called her bossy. I smile, marveling at how they've moved from enemies to this in just a few short years.

Maz places his hand over Kyra's heart. "I pledge to always honor these vows until my last breath."

Their parents kiss both of them on the forehead before turning the new couple toward the a.s.sembly.

"The newly bound couple!" Liam announces.

Maz's eyes shine as he smiles down at Kyra. Like the boy who got the prize. Thank goodness he already knows what a handful she can be.

As they proceed up the aisle to the back of the hall, the attendees crowd around them, trying to touch the new couple. It's considered good luck, but the throng makes Kyra nearly trip. My arm darts out as she pa.s.ses and I touch her.

"Good fortune to you," she recites automatically without realizing it's me.

I don't care. I'll take all the luck I can get.

Candlelight bathes the reception hall in a warm yellow, and wax runs down the tall pillars, puddling at the bases.

Maz and Kyra each sit at opposite ends of a twenty-person banquet table. It's tradition to keep the new couple separated until they leave for the night. Kyra's guests sit near Maz, and vice versa. This is so the families can drill their new member. Which makes sense, considering most of us are brought into families knowing little about them beyond what our intended has told us.

I study Kyra's father and her grandfather, looking for any sort of resemblance to my family. I don't see it.

Half-eaten steamed dumplings cover my plate and I push them around so that it looks like I've eaten more than I have. I don't want to appear rude or ungrateful.

Kyra's father stands and clinks the edge of his fork against his champagne flute. "It's time to bid the new couple good night!"

The guests break into applause and rise to their feet. Even from this distance, I can see a hint of redness creeping across Kyra's cheeks. No wonder. Everyone here knows what happens next. In the morning, they'll both be surrounded in matching aura's confirming the night's events. But only Dark witches will be on hand as witnesses. The human world isn't privy to our private matters.

I'm happy for Kyra and Maz. I really am. But Beck and I will never have this, and I want it so badly. The a.s.sembly. The celebration. And most importantly, the blessing of all involved.

And we could have had it all if we hadn't been cursed. Couldn't we?

My eyes flit across the room to where Ryker stands with Maz's family and the jagged scars covering my heart bleed. This will be us next week. And then what? Will everyone applaud as we leave for the night? Will they give each other knowing glances and laugh at our nervousness? Will Ryker actually want to consummate the relationship? How far will our charade go?

Mother squeezes my shoulder as if comforting me. Or maybe she knows I'm trying to hold myself together and this is an attempt to fill me with a different emotion. Does it really matter anymore?

"They make a lovely couple, don't they?" she says.

"Yes."

Maz lifts an unusually shy Kyra into his arms and carries her toward an open door along the sidewall.

"I'd like you to formally introduce me to Ryker," Mother says as we shuffle along behind Maz and Kyra. Calls of best wishes ring out around us. "It's only proper."

Mother has decided to announce our pending binding tonight, after Maz and Kyra depart. Which is now, I guess.

"I thought you'd already met," I answer.

"Briefly." She allows a hint of irritation to cross her face. "Annalise has been our primary family representative."

I sigh. Of course Annalise has been reporting back to Mother on Ryker and me. That's what she does: spy on me.

Mother holds her hand out. "Shall we?"

I take a few shaky steps in the general direction of Ryker. He's standing with a group of boys I don't recognize, but all of them have to be Dark witches. Mother refused Kyra's request to include our human housemates.

"Don't be nervous, Love. I won't bite," Mother teases. Ryker notices us and breaks away from the group. He stops a respectable distance away from us and waits for Mother to invite him closer.

"You may approach." She's switched into her distant and authoritative Vice Head of State role.

Ryker strides confidently forward, and without waiting for Mother's permission, pecks her on both cheeks. "Malin," he says.

My mouth drops open at his informality. But Mother acts unsurprised. She smiles politely and moves so that Ryker and I have to stand closer together. "Annalise has already met with your parents and they've worked out the details of your binding."

"I'm fortunate to be welcomed into your esteemed family." I try not to laugh at the formal words coming from Ryker. This is the guy who likes to scale buildings for fun and has a difficult time remembering to tuck in his shirt. Like now. The tails stick out from the bottom of his dinner jacket. He didn't even bother to tidy up before meeting Mother.

"We're fortunate you accepted. Especially under such unusual circ.u.mstances." Mother lifts her chin and waves to someone across the room. "Forgive me, but I must speak with Minister Sun-Wei. It's nearly time to make our big announcement."

She spins abruptly, leaving Ryker and I standing together, staring at each other awkwardly.

"Well, that was fun," he says.

"Mother may be many things, but fun is not one of them. You should remember that." I watch Mother and Minister Sun-Wei. Despite her calm demeanor, I can tell she's agitated from the way her hands twitch. Unfortunately, it's a feeling I know too well.

"Are we supposed to wait here while she tells everyone about us?" Ryker asks.

"You mean I'm not the only who doesn't know?"

Ryker shoots me a dirty look. "This is for the best. Trust me."

"For who? You? I'm sure Mother has already promised you a rapid climb up the social ladder. How many years until you become a captain? Or do you aim higher? Director perhaps?"

"Use your brain, Lark." His voice is a low growl. "This is better for both of us and you know it. Before I confessed, you thought it was your idea."

A bell chimes at the front of the room and the hum of voices around us ceases.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Ms. Greene has a joyous announcement." My heartbeat slows as Minister Sun-Wei's voice bellows across the room.

Every head turns toward Mother, who stands at the far end of the ma.s.sive dining table. "As many of you know, my beloved daughter Lark turns eighteen next week." She pauses and polite claps circle through the crowd. "As a States woman, it is imperative she have a suitable mate." A few hushed whispers. "It is my pleasure to say Lark has been paired with Ryker Newbold, her escort this evening." Mother gestures to us and immediately I feel hundreds of eyes looking at me.

I want to sink into the ground, but I keep my head up, my smile firm, and my hand resting lightly on Ryker's forearm. Neither of us move. It's as if Mother's announcement has turned us into wax statues.

Someone shouts, "Good fortune to you," and soon we're surrounded by a group of well-wishers.

If Ryker didn't fully understand what he's been pulled into, he does now. Nothing he does will ever be private again. He won't be able to simply stroll down the street, or comment on something as trivial as the outcome of a lacrosse game without it becoming fodder for the gossip feeds. Beck and I were raised for this. But Ryker wasn't and he stands at my side, sh.e.l.l-shocked.