“Oh, they are love letters,” he said. “But I’m coming to realize that when it comes to Atlantis, things are not always what they appear. There was more, plainly hidden.”
“She didn’t tell me,” Sabine said again.
“She was probably trying to protect you. She knew I’d be reading them.” He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Your mother, what happened to her?”
“She was weak and an utter fool.” There was no denying Sabine’s anger in those short words. “She did not take her duties as guardian seriously. It is the guardians’ duty to pass on their ways to their successors. In my mother’s case, that was me, her only child. Historically the guardianship passed through the bloodlines, even though there is a ceremony to name a new one. When her father died, the people in our village begged the elders to change the ceremony. Never before had a woman been named guardian. But she came forward and pled her case, promised to fulfill her duties just as a man would, and the ceremony confirmed her.
“And initially she did just as she’d vowed. She married, they had me, and she was as good a Healer as our village had seen. She trained me every day, too. And then my father fell ill.” She shook her head. “It changed everything. My mother adored my father, they adored each other, and his illness rocked her to her core. She prepared his treatment, but she did something wrong, something horribly wrong. Within a day, he was gone. Not even a year later, she had died, too. I was thirteen.”
Her tone was etched with bitterness and anger and spoke of the hurt child she’d once been. He was almost sorry he’d pressed the issue. But he’d shared truths about his family he’d never told anyone else. And so far, Sabine hadn’t stood to leave.
“How did she die?” he ventured.
“A guardian must consume a small portion of the elixir every day. It is part of a guardian’s duty and strengthens the connection with the elixir, with our homeland.” Sabine shook her head. She was no longer looking at him. Instead, she stared at the sheet wrapped around her. “She just stopped. Wouldn’t take a drop. Eventually her body succumbed, and she died.”
“And you’ve been with your aunts ever since?”
“Yes. They were there all along, trying to assist my mother when things started to go badly, but she was intent on destroying herself.”
“What about other people? Can they directly ingest the elixir? Or can it only be used on injuries?”
“It’s far too dangerous for others to consume, except in extremely small quantities, and only in dire emergencies. It is very dangerous.” She paused for a moment. “Our people are careful with the elixir. We don’t want history to repeat itself.”
He’d have to be certain to give Marcus all of these warnings when he brought the sample to him for testing. Marcus would respect the boundaries, but Max wouldn’t want word to get out about the elixir. That kind of power would be too tempting to resist for any number of criminals.
Max was quiet, thinking of all she had said and about how they both had lost their families at a young age. He could understand the anger she had for her mother. Sabine still viewed her mother’s death through a child’s eyes. Grief could distort reality. But so much of what she’d said tonight and the last few days came together for him. She never said “us” or “I,” instead she always used “they” as if she were not part of the guardians.
“You told me you were the third guardian,” he said softly.
Sabine pulled the sheet up to her chin, but said nothing. Nevertheless, he could see the truth in her expression. The moment of surprise before she carefully capped her emotions. He’d guessed correctly.
Still she was reluctant. “Your cards are showing,” he chided her. “You’ve lost the hand. Why won’t you simply tell me the truth? You owe me that much.”
“Why?” Her amber-colored eyes sparked with indignation. “Why do I owe you anything?”
Her words stung. How could she ask such a thing? After all they’d been through together. After he’d taken her to bed. Not once, but several times. And here she was, treating him as nothing more than hired help.
He shook his head in frustration. “Without me, you wouldn’t have had access to the full prophecy. Not to mention, I’ve offered protection to you and your aunts. And I’ve assisted you in deciphering the clues.” He raked his fingers through his hair.
“Of course. I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful,” she said.
“This isn’t about gratitude.” He propelled himself from the bed, reaching for the pants he’d discarded on the floor in his earlier passion. “You don’t trust me. And you never have.”
“It’s not that,” she said.
“Yes, actually it is,” he said, knowing his anger was evident in his tone. But he didn’t care. Yes, he was angry. He’d done everything right to deserve her trust, yet she had lied to him.
He shoved his feet into the legs of his pants. He shouldn’t even give a damn about her bloody secret. She was a pastime, nothing more. He wouldn’t make the mistake of forgetting that again.
No, he didn’t want harm to come to her, but that didn’t mean that he would forsake his own ambitions simply because of a secret she wanted to keep.
“Just tell me the truth, Sabine. I already know, but I want to hear you say it.” His voice sounded weary to his own ears. Earlier, he’d been ready to take her again, his body heavy with desire. But now ice ran through his veins, cooling his need.
Why did he care so much whether she was honest with him?
He simply could not abide dishonesty. That’s all it was.
He needed all the facts when he was in the middle of a situation.