The Betrayer (Crossing Realms Series Book 3)

by Rebecca E. Neely

Jordan sat back, contemplating what they’d shared. They truly did have a lot in common.

  “What about you, Jordan?” Libby asked. “I know Curtis has helped you to gain control of your ability. You have your own story to tell.”

  Uncrossing her legs, Jordan regarded the other women, certain of only one thing. “He saved my life.”

  And with concrete clarity, she knew what she must do in order to make the synergy work.

  Exorcise her demons, same as Libby and Meda had.

  She was the weak link.

  Again. Frustration gored her. Weak as a mongrel, and now, as a Keeper. She clenched her jaw, refusing to accept it.

  “I can see you and Curtis are close. I don’t know what all is happening between you two,” Libby offered gently. “I’ll tell you this. It wasn’t easy for me and Nick.”

  “Or me and Dev,” Meda put in.

  Jordan’s brow creased. “No, what’s happening between us is by no stretch of the imagination easy.”

  “Curtis is a good man,” Libby said.

  “Yes, he is,” Jordan murmured to herself.

  He’s my mate.

  “Thank you for everything, both of you.” She clasped their hands in hers, emotions welling in her. “It means more to me than you could possibly know.”

  “Of course.”

  Meda jerked a thumb in the direction of the family room. “Maybe what we need is for the men to join us. We’re going to form the nucleus of the synergistic event. The men will act as a buffer to spell, then protect us. It’s extremely powerful to expend and meld our energies through our abilities. It can also make us vulnerable, but it’s the only way.”

  It’s the only way. Sweating, Jordan rose, her decision made. “I’m going to use the bathroom,” she managed, before her legs buckled. “Be right back.”

  She darted from the room, along the hall. Dev and Curtis’ voices echoed in the kitchen. Biting her tongue to keep from crying out, she stole into the den, slipped out again moments later, unnoticed . . . and strode to the back door.

  Now is the time.

  Hurrying along the stone path, the scents of flowers in bloom rioted around her. And so did memories of her and Curtis, making love in the soft grass.

  Hot tears pricked her eyes.

  She ran across the street to the multitude of white service vans the Keepers drove.

  In less than thirty seconds, she hotwired one and backed out of the driveway. Flicking a glance in the rear-view mirror, she caught sight of the stately Victorian and nearly turned around. How quickly the network had become home for her, when only days before, she’d denounced it.

  She’d rather sell her soul—the one she knew Curtis had breathed life into—than hurt him. Or lie to him and the clan.

  I’m risking everything.

  Curtis. His love. His trust.

  The clan. Humans. Their realms.

  If she didn’t leave, none of them might be able to return to the place they called home in the human realm.

  Ironic. She was trading one kind of trust for another.

  Curtis, please understand.

  Stomping on the accelerator, she bulleted around the bend on Willoughby Avenue and sped toward the city.

  Chapter 27

  Jordan drove through neighborhoods which quickly gave way to the business district. Cars and trucks, many of them wrecked, clogged the streets. As she’d witnessed on the bridge and in the Strip District, so did dead bodies—both humans and Betrayers, she guessed.

  Cold sweat slicked her palms and she nearly lost her grip on the steering wheel. She rolled her shoulders to lessen the tension, cracked her neck—

  And summoned the soldier within her.

  Ten yards ahead, two pickups had collided, blocking her way. Turning the wheel sharply to the left, she coaxed the van onto the sidewalk and motored past an old church refitted into a brewery. After another twenty yards, she angled back onto the street.

  They’d know she was gone by now.

  Curtis.

  Unbidden, his face appeared in her mind. He’d scarcely recovered from almost losing her in the tunnels, and she’d sucker punched him today. Her heart lurched. She’d never forgive herself for the heartbreak she knew she caused him at this very minute.

  Dammit, pay attention.

  She focused on the road ahead for actual and potential hazards. She saw no sign of life, human, Betrayer or otherwise, nor sensed even a hint of dark energy. It all made sense, because with the portal almost ready, the brood masters were no doubt organizing the troops in the tunnels.

  The blue sky from only an hour ago had been replaced with roiling clouds the color of pewter. Humidity punched like a fist. Accelerating, Jordan turned right onto the bridge leading to the north side of the city.

  She glanced at her watch. According to Curtis’ calculations, she still had a good ten hours, give or take. Another right, a left, two more miles, and she pulled alongside the brick warehouse, scarred with graffiti and lined by dumpsters. Parking the van, she killed the engine and stepped out carefully, pocketing the keys.

  Checking behind, then in front of her, she moved silently along the alley, scanning the building. Thunder rumbled, shaking the pavement beneath her feet. Quickly, she darted toward one of the loading docks. The rolltop door, raised at least a foot, would grant her access.

  Rain fell, the first angry drops pinging off the surfaces of the city—metal, glass, and concrete. Dropping to the ground, she shimmied beneath the door.

  She was in, back where she’d started. Her gaze fell on the office where Kemp had abandoned her.

  Where Curtis had rescued her.

  But she was no longer a discarded mongrel, left to die, with no will to live. She was a woman who’d been transformed, body and soul, into a Keeper.

  And she had everything to lose.

  New determination flooded her as she sprinted to the rear of the warehouse to the stack of pallets. Flinging them aside, she descended the metal ladder, each step depositing her deeper into the bowels of the earth. The passage from here to the brood’s tunnels was shorter than the one the clan had followed from the Strip. Her watch told her nine hours and thirty-eight minutes remained.

  Plenty of time for her plan to work.

  Curtis’ voice echoed in her mind. You’re a threat to him. Though I imagine you always were. It’s why he hates you. Because you are, he’s liable to make a mistake. His ego rules him. His mania.

  She blinked back tears of pain and anger.

  The woman I know doesn’t hide.

  She stifled a sob. No. I don’t hide. Not myself and not my gift.

  The energy Curtis imparted to her during their lovemaking burned hot and bright inside her, propelling her forward.

  She would hunt Abel. She’d locate him with her ability and full-on Vitality.

  It had a distinctive scent, he’d told her. Was it because of her uber hearing? Or because she’d once been a mongrel? Or something else entirely? It didn’t matter.

  Abel would come. Because she lived.

  And he’d come alone. Because of his ego and his hatred.

  From her pocket she withdrew the knife she’d lifted from the den in the clan’s Victorian. The blade clicked solidly into place when she unfolded it.

  She’d be ready for him.

  Then she’d kill him.

  And that defied everything a Keeper stood for. Growling in frustration, she advanced.

  Even with the Second Rebellion in full swing, she increased the risk to the clan tenfold, merely by being alive. She would liberate herself and the clan, and she would exact revenge, for herself. Her parents. Magpie. She would get solid answers about her mother.

  In doing so, she would finally part ways with her old life a
nd begin her new one.

  Abel was vulnerable for these few short hours before the portal was complete. After that, she’d have lost her window of opportunity.

  She must kill Abel to make the synergy work. If she failed—if he killed her—she risked the clan never being able to make the synergy work.

  Even if she succeeded, she could still lose Curtis.

  No. I won’t let that happen.

  Memories swarmed her mind. Curtis, feeding her soup from a can in the reno. Kissing her for the first time. The dumbfounded look on his face when she’d told him they were going to steal a car. Carrying her out of battle. Dipping her while they danced to the music of their souls. Completing her as he made love to her.

  Since the minute she’d first awakened in the reno, she’d been falling in love with him. The instant she saw him again, she would speak the words he’d waited to hear from her, his mate.

  He’ll understand.

  Locking down all thoughts, calling on her ability, she tuned in to the sounds of the tunnels, of the brood in the distance, and forged deeper into the passageway.

  Her senses razor-sharp, the Vitality around her neck pulsed, its warmth lighting her way.

  The first wave of dark energy ambushed her. The second stole the breath from her lungs. The portal grew stronger every minute. Drawing on the Flint, she shielded herself from its intensifying ebb and flow.

  Forty-one. Sixty-two. The numbers kept her company, kept her sane.

  “Come and get me, you son of a bitch,” she whispered to the darkness.

  ~ ~ ~

  If Jordan had sliced Curtis open, left him to bleed out, it might’ve hurt less.

  Leaning against a century-old oak in the copse of trees where they’d made love only hours ago, he crumpled the sheet of paper in his fist. He’d read it again and again in the last few hours, as though what she’d written would change.

  “Curtis.”

  At the sound of Nick’s decisive voice, he closed his eyes in despair.

  Nick laid a hand on his back. “We need to cross realms and help the others prepare for battle,” he said, and Curtis understood he spoke both as brother and clan leader. “We have to use the time we have left wisely.” He sighed. “Jordan leaving changes everything.”

  My mate. Curtis thought of the baby bird he’d rescued. Of the alley cat who’d fought him. The Betrayer turned Keeper who’d opened herself to him. The woman he’d waited for. Who, with her gift of uber hearing, had been the final link in a convoluted mystery. Salvation for the clan, their realms, humans.

  Or so he’d believed.

  Ironically, she’d kicked him in the teeth with the ultimate betrayal by walking away without a word, alone and into hell.

  Curtis lifted a shaking hand, his thoughts splintering. “What if she comes back?”

  She’s not coming back. Nick didn’t say it, but he might as well have. Whether she couldn’t, or wouldn’t . . .

  Terror chilled him in the height of summer in the ‘Burgh. His gut wrenching, he turned and walked alongside his brother toward the house. He’d been dead-on about one thing.

  Jordan leaving had changed everything.

  ~ ~ ~

  Abel raced through the tunnels.

  He couldn’t be wrong.

  Though he smirked at the arrogance, he recognized the opportunity.

  He’d assured the other brood masters he’d handle this problem. After all, he still had plenty of time.

  Waves of dark energy emanated from his portal. Abel embraced them, and the portal itself, the child he’d raised into a full-fledged force to be reckoned with.

  Along with the scent of Vitality.

  Whistling, he jogged around a corner.

  Plenty of time.

  ~ ~ ~

  Jordan skulked in the roughly eight-foot-diameter circle at the crossroads of the tunnels. How appropriate.

  Footsteps.

  Maybe forty yards away.

  Muttering.

  I’m going to kill you.

  Thirty yards.

  Her heart jackhammering, her knife poised, she crept into position, crouching to the left of the mouth of the east tunnel.

  And doused her Vitality, sliding under the radar.

  Twenty yards.

  Heels, scuffing dirt. Footsteps slowing. Heavy breathing.

  Keep coming, you bastard.

  Fifteen feet.

  Ten.

  She tightened her grip on the handle of the knife.

  Five.

  Widened her stance.

  “Where are you?”

  The rush of Abel’s words hung in the air, a shout, a whisper. She didn’t know anymore. Raising her arm, she swung the blade down with all her might, cleaving the air.

  And the brood master’s right hamstring.

  Howling, Abel slumped to the ground in front of her. “Son of a bitch!” Craning his neck, he twisted, caught sight of his attacker, and immediately fumbled with his Similitude.

  “Try it and I cut you again.” In spite of the threat she’d issued, she focused on her Flint as a preemptive strike. Rearing back, she delivered a well-aimed blow to his crotch.

  His face contorting, he spat, “You crazy bitch.”

  “Yeah, that’s me.” A smile curled Jordan’s lips. “Where’s my mother?” she demanded.

  “You think you can threaten me?” Sweat coated his forehead. The stone around his neck shone clear.

  Channeling the Flint, she buffeted the dark energy invading her.

  A battle of wills. Of energies. Evil.

  And she wanted to believe, good.

  Light filled the tunnel in bursts, flickering dark, then green, then clear.

  Memories filled her mind. She saw herself, lying on the ground, bloody and broken. Then the child who’d wept, night after night for her mother. The battle raged.

  Back and forth.

  Abel staggered to his feet. Blood soaked the leg of his pants. Groaning, leaning heavily to the right, he charged her. Hurling his full weight at her, they both slammed to the ground.

  “Think you can kill me with a knife? Think again.” He slapped her across the face.

  Pain exploded behind her left eye and in her skull. Banking down on the Vitality, she focused. Channeled.

  Abel flew backward, crashed into the tunnel wall with a sickening thump, and fell to the dirt floor.

  Exhaustion rocked her. Still she lurched forward, her knife outthrust.

  Descending on him, she raised her arm, sickly fascinated by the flash of steel in the dimness, and stabbed him in the chest. Again and again.

  “This is what you did to me,” she muttered, her voice foreign to her ears. “This is what you did to me.”

  Sweat coated her limbs. She squeezed the handle of the knife, her blade crimson, her hands and forearms sticky with the blood of her enemy.

  This isn’t you, Jordan.

  She sucked in a breath. Her fingers numb, her weapon clattered to the ground. Crawling off Abel’s chest, she sat back on her haunches, evidence of the attack smearing her shirt and jeans.

  “Dad?” she whispered, disbelieving.

  His voice flooded her mind, and she reached out for him, opening her Vista.

  If you kill him, you’re endangering everyone and everything you love. Jeopardizing your future and the clan’s.

  “He killed you. Lied about my mother!”

  “Who the hell is that? Lathan?” Wild-eyed, Abel attempted to crawl.

  I know you want revenge. He stole so much from both of us. But this isn’t the way. It’s not for you to end him. Not alone.

  Despair clobbered her. “I don’t understand,” she wailed.

 
You’ve already faced your fears by coming here, and by standing up for yourself. The only thing holding you back from embracing your new life is you. You were never the weak link. It’s what he made you believe. You’re making yourself into that by continuing to believe it.

  Everything Curtis told her.

  You’ve suffered enough, my precious daughter. Listen now and understand. The very thing he hates and fears the most is the key. What you are to him. Remember there are many ways to kill. And die.

  “Dad!” Her voice roared in her ears. But he was gone.

  Abel sprawled on the ground, gurgling, his chest macerated. A tumult rumbled in the distance like thunder, barely contained.

  Moments passed. Then the sound echoed, escalated. Roared.

  The portal.

  Opening.

  Jordan screamed.

  Dark energy careened through the tunnels like a derailing freight train, booming in her ears, her mind. Amplifying her uber hearing to unholy levels, it wasted everything in its path. Her dreadlocks flew straight out behind her. The force slammed her against the wall of the tunnel and held her there, as it did Abel, powerless against the onslaught.

  His wounds healed before her eyes.

  Helpless to defend herself, she attempted to channel the Vitality. But to execute her attack on Abel, she’d hemorrhaged energy. Her gut wrenched as her senses, her very soul, caved in on her.

  Curtis. My mate. I failed you. Failed the clan.

  Abruptly, the light enveloped her, impenetrable.

  Shielding her.

  Abel’s lips peeled back, hurling threats. But there was no sound.

  Suddenly, the roaring ceased.

  She crashed to the floor of the tunnel along with Abel.

  An eerie quiet replaced the din. Quickly, she assessed her situation.

  My father saved me.

  Abel hurtled to his feet.

  Mirroring him, she clutched the knife.

  They locked eyes.

  The stampede of running feet, hundreds of them, reverberated through the tunnels, replacing the blast of the portal.