The Betrayer (Crossing Realms Series Book 3)

by Rebecca E. Neely

  “You bitch.” Kneeling, he spat in her face.

  With a shaking hand, Jordan wiped his saliva away, sticky tendrils of it spreading between her fingers. “You’re going to pay. For all you’ve done.”

  “I wouldn’t make too many threats right now.”

  “No matter what happens to me, getting Magpie out of here was worth it.”

  He kicked at the dirt. “I didn’t think Kemp had it in him to lie to me. But we are Betrayers.” He waited a beat. “Deceit is in our blood.”

  Alarm perforated her battered senses. “He saved her.” White hot pain seared her every bone, her every muscle. “She would’ve been loyal to you, ‘til the bitter end.”

  “You fucking mongrel. Your presence in my brood infected it. By expunging you, I cleansed it. You know nothing about loyalty,” he roared. “Neither did Magpie.” Crouching, he lifted her head by her dreadlocks. “Or your real mother.”

  She shuddered, locked in his grip. Apprehension snaked along her spine. “My r-real mother?” she stammered.

  “I took care of her too.” He laughed cruelly. “You’ve got secrets? So have I.”

  Abruptly, he released her and her cheek smacked the ground.

  “Your father told you she was dead.” He shrugged off the admission. “I guess he thought it’d be easier for you.”

  “Easier than what?” she choked out.

  A paper-thin smile played across his lips. “Knowing she was still alive.”

  Raw horror macerating her insides, she forced the words from her lips, a stranger’s. “My mother. Is. Alive?”

  He continued as though she hadn’t spoken, rocking on his heels. “Sure was hard on him though.”

  It was a lie. Or was it? Grief, a child’s, a woman’s, rent her heart in two. “Why?”

  In front of the portal, Abel bowed his head, as though paying it homage. “You don’t get it, do you? You think I’d allow a mongrel into my brood, without a price?”

  He faced her. “Your father, such a pathetic do-gooder. The bastard son of my father and a whore. Then he carried on the same way. Mongrel blood, infecting our purebreds. Went and got that bitch knocked up. I told her it was either you or her. She begged for your life. Come to think of it, I think she may have offered to leave, for your sake. I took the deal. Figured I could use you and your father for some good. Holding that over his head was a powerful motivator.” He shrugged. “But I had to wait until you grew up for you to be truly useful.”

  It was as if her body and mind had become two separate entities. Her blood congealed. “To contribute.”

  “You did prove beneficial in that regard. Your knack with cars, motors. Thieving.”

  “Then you used me to test the Similitude.”

  “Didn’t work,” he said, his disgust plain. “Your father was no match for it though. Guess all those years of living without her ran him down.”

  Years. He stole years from me. My father. A flood of grief and loneliness drowned her. All along, her mother had been alive.

  I’m here, Jordan. Hold on a little longer for me.

  Curtis. Claiming the strength he lent her, from his voice, melding with her ability, she drew on the Vitality. She clutched its green facets in her hand—

  And could actually hear its energy filling her.

  I will.

  “What you made me believe.” Jordan’s voice, already broken, cracked. “Where is she?”

  Abel tapped a finger to his goatee. “Last I heard, Chicago. Or was it Atlanta? For all I know, she is dead.”

  Bastard. This would be the last time he’d beat her.

  Because either she’d die.

  Or she’d kill him.

  “Why are you telling me this?” She forced the words out.

  “There’s all kinds of ways to suffer.” He clucked his tongue. “How easily you forget. It’s what we’ve learned from hunting the humans over decades. The same pathetic creatures who’ve made our existence possible.”

  He towered over her, and she cringed, braced for more abuse. “I don’t know what you are, and I don’t care. You’re nothing to me.” He chuckled. “You won’t be needing these.”

  He yanked at her stones. The leather strap dug into her flesh.

  Both the Vitality and the Flint stayed firmly in place.

  Where Curtis had fastened them.

  Ire darkened Abel’s features. “What the hell?” Scrambling to his feet, he clutched his Similitude. “Time to take care of the business I never should’ve entrusted to Kemp.”

  “Not on my watch.”

  Curtis’ voice pierced the darkness.

  As it had in the reno, it soothed and bolstered Jordan’s senses. Joy surged in her.

  Then she was being dragged to her feet like a rag doll. Her body shifted uselessly against Abel’s. The pressure tightened, plunging her into the abyss she’d once embraced.

  Now she fought, clinging madly to life, light. Even as they ebbed from her reach.

  Abel’s voice hissed in her ear. “I’ll snap her neck like a twig if you use the Flint.”

  “Let her go, you son of a bitch.” Another voice boomed in the enclosed space.

  “Dev Geary,” Abel spat. “The brothers Grimm. Plus one.”

  Thumping blazed a tattoo in her brain. Frenetic.

  The pounding of Abel’s pulse.

  Abel released her and shoved, and the ground rushed up to meet her, thrashing her already broken body. Moaning, she reached out for the Keepers. For their energy, strength, and unity.

  Curtis. Nick. Dev. Saxon.

  The clan had come for her.

  Chapter 25

  At will, Jordan tuned into her ability with the aid of the Vitality. She could hear the buzzing of bees, the whisper of conversation within the house, the clink of forks against plates. It wasn’t quite ten o’clock in the morning. Standing at the edge of the sloping yard behind the Victorian, her hand tucked securely in Curtis’, she reveled in all of it.

  Disbelieving, she inspected her arms, her legs, ran her free hand over her face for perhaps the hundredth time. The bruises had faded, her bones had mended. Pain was a horrific, but not distant, memory. Curtis’ energy, along with the entire clan’s and her own, had saved her.

  Resting her cheek against the curve of his shoulder, Jordan reveled in the nearness of him while seeking comfort. Even battered as she’d been in the tunnels, skirting the edges of consciousness, she’d been aware of his presence. He hadn’t let go of her, not during the frantic escape, the ride to the network, or the hurried meeting they’d held upon their return.

  Nick had reported his parents had successfully made contact with Kemp and Magpie and were at this very minute holed up in the reno. He’d also informed her of Magpie’s condition. She’d been beaten, and bruises ringed her neck. Someone, undoubtedly Abel, had tried to strangle her. She was weak, dehydrated, depleted of dark energy, and fighting for her life. But she was alive. Jordan prayed she would be given a second chance.

  As I have.

  The mother she’d long ago believed dead might be alive. Was it possible? Or another of Abel’s lies?

  Her heart knocking against her ribs, she processed the onslaught of all that’d happened, while focusing on the battle to come and the looming unknowns. Surveying the yard, she raised an arm to encompass their surroundings. “This realm, the network, the Keepers. All of us, all of it, could be gone in less than twelve hours.”

  Curtis tightened his arm around her. “The rate at which the network is failing agrees with what Kemp told you about the completion time for the portal.” His expression was somber. “Now that we’ve returned from the tunnels, we’re back to Nick’s original plan. We’re going to defend the network as long as we can. When it’s time, we’ll join the ot
hers who have already crossed realms and are preparing for battle. Nick sent Saxon on.”

  “And she went willingly?”

  “No.” Curtis chuckled. “Nick wanted her to get the lay of the land in the Watchers’ realm. While we’re still here, you, Meda, and Libby are going to work together to use your abilities collectively, like we discussed in the Situation room. To try to find a way to restore the Similitude to Vitality.”

  Made sense. If she was a few quarts low on hope, she’d keep it to herself. What more could they do? She growled in frustration. “I know it’s important to work with them. But there must be something more we can do to stop Abel from unleashing the portal.”

  “You’re lucky to be alive,” Curtis ground out. “Look at all you accomplished. You found Kemp. We know it’s less than twelve hours until the portal’s completed. You saw it firsthand, like we did. Magpie and Kemp are alive. They might have a chance because of you.”

  She released a shuddering breath. “I know you’re right.”

  “And your mother . . .” He trailed off, his misery plain.

  My mother. At the mere thought, tears clogged her throat. Curtis guided her with him to the ground and into his lap. Sobs rose from the depths of her soul, wracking her body.

  Abel had unearthed the grief she’d fought to bury. Suddenly, Jordan was a child again. Where was her mother? Why wasn’t she coming back? All she wanted was to feel her arms around her, keeping her safe, the way only a mother could do.

  Curtis rocked her, and she knew he grieved with her. Minutes passed.

  “Here.” He offered her a tissue.

  She blew her nose and wiped her eyes. “He stole her from me,” she said roughly. “What if she’s alive? How can I find her? What if it’s not true? What if she’s . . .”

  “We’ll find the truth.” He tilted her chin and looked directly into her eyes. “Whatever it is. Together.”

  Together. The word, so foreign before, now resounded in her soul. She believed him but another thought tormented her. “It’s possible, almost certain I’m bringing ruin upon the clan. Abel will never stop now that he knows I’m alive. My living is a blasphemy. Proof his brood defied him.”

  “You’re right,” Curtis agreed without hesitation. “He knows now you’re a Keeper, and he’s going to come after you. And he’ll have to get through all of us first. You’re a threat to him, Jordan, though I imagine you always were. It’s why he hates you. Because of that, he’s liable to make a mistake. His ego and his mania rule him. Abel puts himself first, not his brood.” He traced a finger along her cheek, her nose. “The woman I know doesn’t hide. I say let him come.”

  Curtis’ faith in her humbled her. “I only wish you’d killed him in the tunnel when you had the opportunity. I was too weak to do it myself.” And she felt that failure keenly.

  “We’ve already been through this,” Curtis reminded her. “The clan outnumbered him in that moment. But the portal was draining us all. And we were on the brood’s turf. You know as well as I do if we’d killed Abel, the brood masters and the other Betrayers would’ve been all over us. We never would’ve made it out alive. We were under the radar for the moment,” he repeated. “How long would we have been able to sustain that? Most importantly, I would never risk losing you. I told you before and I’ll tell you again. I’m not letting you go, Jordan.” His voice broke. “When I saw what he’d done to you . . .”

  Near tears again, she battled them back. “We’re Keepers. Guardians. At the end of the day we’re soldiers. I know the risks. So do you.”

  Pulling her close, he molded her body to his and kissed her forehead. She strained to hear him. “I want to be the one protecting you. I should’ve protected you.”

  The need to soothe, to assure, overwhelmed her. “You did. If you and the clan hadn’t trained me, I wouldn’t have made it.”

  “Jordan—”

  She laid a hand on his chest. “We healed me. Together,” she said softly.

  “If I wouldn’t have gotten there in time . . .”

  The helplessness she read in his eyes shredded her heart even more than the horror of the beating she’d survived. “You did. You came for me.”

  Curtis framed her face in his hands. “I promised I would.”

  As always, his words and his voice soothed her, filling in her empty spaces. Releasing a breath, Jordan tipped her head back and studied the tiny lines scoring the corners of Curtis’ mouth when he frowned, as he did now.

  She admired the strong contour of his nose, his finely sculpted lips. Collectively, his features possessed the fascinating ability to gift him with a youthful, even cherubic air one moment, the bent of a dark, old soul the next. She’d come to know both parts of him so well, in so short a time, and she wanted to know more.

  “Yes, you did,” she agreed, smiling. “Even before I lived through that hell, I knew you would. My faith in you enabled me to survive.” Jordan’s voice thickened. “You made me believe in your promise. In you. In us.”

  You’re my mate. The realization she’d scarcely had a chance to contemplate in the tunnel bloomed.

  The next ran her through like the steel of a sword.

  I have to kill Abel.

  By doing so, she’d make good on her promise to herself. She owed it to Curtis. To the clan. No matter how they would argue otherwise.

  She had less than twelve hours. And no idea how she’d do it.

  Gulping, she lowered her head, jolted almost as much by one realization as the other.

  “What is it?”

  Conscious of what he’d said about her eyes giving her away, she kept her gaze on their joined hands. “Nothing.” She refused to allow Abel to taint one more moment of her life, nor deny herself the man, the Keeper, right in front of her.

  Curtis had given her so much, restoring her on so many levels. In his arms she was a woman, strong and beautiful. Feminine. Sexy. Curtis wanted her for who and what she was. He’d taken her myriad, misfit pieces and put her back together. He was her miracle.

  Now, maybe, she could be his. And the clan’s.

  Purposefully, she pressed her palms to his chest, delighting in all that hardened muscle, and raised her eyes to meet his. “Curtis. We have so little time.”

  He stared at her, his expression full of hope and longing.

  “I want this time with you. I want you,” she said, her voice husky.

  She didn’t want to think, only to feel. Show him what was in her heart, even if she couldn’t speak the words. Despite all she’d suffered and lost, hope fluttered its feathery wings joyfully. And waited.

  “Jordan.” He whispered her name, his lips curving in invitation.

  Through intimacy, each understood the energy they would impart to the other, and the commitment they were poised to make.

  Trembling, she crushed her mouth to his. She wanted all. Everything. Now. He was life. She sucked on his bottom lip, his groan answered with one of her own. Their tongues danced, teased, explored. His beard stubble grazed her cheeks, arousing her further. She threaded her fingers through his hair, then along the column of his neck, luxuriating in his hot, smooth skin. In the sheer physicality of his body, molded to hers.

  His scent, that of soap and man, tangled with hers, exhilarating her. Like a savage, he’d branded her in the street when they’d stolen the car. She was mad to do the same.

  To claim her mate.

  Brushing aside her inexperience, she let emotion rule, and her hands roam where they pleased. Reckless, glorious abandon filled her. Never had she given of herself so freely. Now a desperate need urged her on. The intimacy she sought sparked her instincts like the strike of a match.

  Urging her to wrap her legs around his waist, Curtis levered himself into a standing position. Carrying her, he plucked a lilac from a nearby b
ush and offered it to her. She brushed the petals against her cheek as she accepted it, the romantic gesture almost an ache in her heart. “You’re so sweet.”

  His eyes hooded, he guided them into a copse of maple and oak trees at the other end of the yard and knelt in the soft grass, where leaves provided shade and privacy. Sun reached them in beams, and humidity dampened their skin. “I used to play fort here,” he told her, smiling wickedly.

  Charmed, endeared, she kissed him, long and hard, then sat back in anticipation. Her eyes never wavered from his. The heat building within her flashed as it burned. Instinctively, she understood since they’d met, everything that’d passed between them had been a kind of foreplay, an age-old dance leading to this moment.

  Impatient with the clothing separating them, she lifted her shirt, yanked it over her head, and tossed it aside. She flicked open her flimsy T-shirt bra. “Touch me.”

  Groaning low in his throat, he quickly did away with his own shirt. His skin flushed, he lowered his head to her breasts, teasing one nipple into his mouth, then the other. With his tongue, he coaxed each into a rosy hard peak, the sensations rocketing straight to her core. Wet heat pooled between her thighs. She cried out, her muscles quivering.

  Curtis ripped at the button of her jeans; undid the zipper. Shifting her, he slid them from her legs and she helped, kicking them aside. In a trio of heartbeats, he stripped off her underwear. Encircling his waist with one of her thighs, he anchored her to him and lowered her to the ground. The grass, cool and soft against her bare back, added another texture to her desire. Using one hand to knead her ass, he found her hot center with his fingers and plunged them inside her.

  Wild for him, she arched her back to accommodate his thrusts. Urging him deeper, she matched his rhythm with her hips. Squeezing the ridge of his shoulders, her breasts melded with his bare chest. With one finger inside her, he used his thumb to further arouse her, swallowing her moans with kisses.