Abandon - Meg Cabot [99]
“I don’t know why I ever thought just because you chose not to be with me,” he said, his voice muffled in my hair, “you would be safe from them, when all this time, you weren’t even safe from your own fami —”
“Shhh,” I said, unable to bear letting him finish that sentence. What could he possibly have done to make my grandmother hate him so much? “It’ll be okay. We’ll find a way —”
“No.” Suddenly, he straightened. But still he didn’t release me. He held on to my shoulders. “It won’t be okay, Pierce. They’re Furies. They’re on earth. And they’re after you.”
“But the necklace,” I said, gesturing to it. I wanted to let him know that I could protect myself. I had protected myself. I just hadn’t managed to protect anyone else. “With a little more practice, now that I understand what’s going on, I’m sure I —”
He shook his head.
“Pierce,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about this ever since I found Jade. And there is one thing I can do to protect you from the Furies.”
I looked up at him, hardly daring to let myself hope. “Really? What?”
“I’m afraid you’re not going to like it,” he said.
“Why? What is it?”
He kissed me gently on my forehead, letting his lips linger there.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
“Why?” I asked in confusion.
“Just do it. I promise it won’t hurt,” he said.
When realization of what he was about to do dawned, I lunged. When he caught me, I kicked him. I pried at his rock-hard grip and pleaded with him. I struggled to escape.
“John,” I cried. “No. Don’t do this. Not this way. It’s what they want, my grandmother told me. Please, I’m begging you —”
But it was too late. He was too strong. I couldn’t get away.
And of course, eventually, I blinked.
One.
Two.
Three.
“Before me there were no created things,
Only eternal, and I eternal last.
All hope abandon, ye who enter in!”
DANTE ALIGHIERI, Inferno, Canto III
None of it had changed. The gauzy white curtains in the elegant archways, blowing in the gentle breeze. The tapestries hanging from the smooth marble walls. The fire in the hearth. The fruit in the gleaming silver bowls on the long banquet table. Even the sky was the same. It was still pink, a perpetual twilit evening.
And the bed. The bed was still there, of course. It was still white-sheeted, canopied, and built for two.
I broke from his arms as soon as he released me — which happened the second we got there.
“No!” I gasped as soon as I opened my eyes.
I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe I was back there, the place from so many of my nightmares.
“Pierce,” he said in that infuriatingly unruffled voice. “Don’t get upset. You know this is for the best.”
Don’t get upset? This is for the best?
I was even in the same dress.
Well, maybe not quite the same. But looking down at myself, I saw that I was wearing something remarkably similar to the gown he’d put me in — with his mind — the last time he’d flung me to this place. It was long and white and flowy. When I lifted a hand defensively to my hair, I felt something prickly in it.
“Flowers?” I pulled them from my head and hurled them to the floor in disgust. “Are you crazy? And stop dressing me! I can dress myself.”
“I thought you’d like it,” he said, seeming hurt. “You look very pretty.”
There was no response I could make to this except to burst out, “I’m going to kill you!”
He considered this. “You’re too late,” he informed me.
Then he crossed the room to one of his shelves, pulled a book down from it, went to the couch, sat down, opened the book, and began to read.
Just like that. Conversation over. Wonder what we’ll have for dinner later?
Well, if he thought this was the end of it, he was very, very mistaken.
I stormed past him on shaking legs, straight through the archway I’d taken to the hall to freedom the last