Stark handed me the coffee and waited expectantly.
"Yes?" I asked, still unable to free my voice of morning ice.
His eyebrows raised in frustration. "Care to talk about the dream? Or would you like to continue festering?"
"Fester, please."
He exhaled and repositioned his body upon the bed.
"We should be going soon."
His arms were crossed over his heart and he stared at me with an expression as hard has steel. His statuesque features seemed burned into a permanent harsh expression. Fire lit his eyes and matched his red markings framing his eyes. "Would you like to generate a plan or continue walking into the Grecian death trap of the gods?"
I slapped my coffee cup down on the bedside table and sat up straight, allowing myself to gather to my tallest height. "We are going to Broken Arrow and you are staying beside me."
The fire did not quench or even abate slightly in surprise. He continued to rage within his mind, I could practically see the swear words burning over coals. "Okay, sure. Would you like me to paint a big 'x' on my chest? Or maybe we could grab you some handcuffs on the way there?"
"You're being an ass."
"You're being a dumb ass."
I could understand his anger and even felt sorry for baiting him. I couldn't explain a plan to him or even explain that I couldn't explain it to him. Neferet can see everything, except for me. She can't read me. I can't risk allowing her to peek into his brain and see what I had planned on doing. I cannot even lie and throw him off with another plan. She'll see through that like freshly windexed glass. It's best that she is confused by his lack of plan.
I was just going to have to make the best of Stark here in this moment. Neferet was surely doing the same wherever she was with Kalona. Stark has to think that I have a master plan to save everyone. Hell, he most likely thinks I've decided to give myself up to Kalona's whims. Good. (And bad, my insides boil when I see his deep lines of sadness.)
"Stark, I need to get dressed and then we need to go. We'll just make it in time."
"Zo—"
I throw my hands up and scrounge up as much ire as I can to douse my voice in anger. "Stark! I can't baby you right now! Heath and Erik could be hours away from dying. Not to mention my family! Please, just go."
His eyes glisten and I see a paper crinkle and glide to the floor as he turns and exits the bedroom. His silent footsteps echo in my mind as I see him walking away from me. Maybe, just maybe, if he hurts so much he'll glide away and give me the promise that he is safe and could someday love someone the way that I long to love him now.
I lean down and allow my fingers to clutch the scrap of paper. Scrawled in an elegantly rugged script was Starks handwriting.
You are the wind that rustles the trees.
Sends the arrow
Pierces the heart and ends the flow of blood.
Begins the flow of blood
Wind in dark,
Wind in light.
Brings the cool
To calm the fire,
Ignite the spark.
Demolish the dead, ragged.
Bring the tempest
Gusts the rain away
I am your caterpillar, worm
Clinging to the branch,
As the wheel turns,
Retreats, winds round.