by Jamie Magee
A sick realization came over her. She knew Talon, she knew how his mind worked, and she didn’t doubt for one second why he did what he did.
“And apparently that trashed your plans to bail,” she said in a tone thick with emotion.
“I wasn’t bailing, I was dividing!” He calmed himself as the echo of his rage slammed into them. “I couldn’t do it. I was in denial. It was never possible. The very real threat, Love, was you not loving me wholly—it was you coming to me out of obligation. An arrangement. You know as well as I do it could not happen that way.”
She looked down. “I only sent you away because Windsome led me to believe I had to. I sent you away so you could raise your armies and a have chance to fight.” She looked right at him. “Loving you was never a question. My actions were done out of such.”
He bit his lip before he spoke. “This was too much too fast. You were cut off from me. For all I knew, it was too late—we’d be defeated, in time.”
“And now, after the night I had, suddenly you changed your mind?”
“Yes.”
She looked at him like he was fool.
“I would dare say it took this hell for me to know you were mine. Your emotions were out of control, defensive—offensive. I heard you. I saw you. I sensed every reaction. I was connected to you. I knew what you were doing and I knew why.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked aghast, her mind was the last place she wanted him, or anyone. On the outside, she could control how she seemed, inside—it was a hot mess of emotions that most never knew she had.
“Windsome said as we grew in power, as we melded as one, this would occur. It will be how we rule without conference. How we will always find each other.”
“You mean lead. You mean, now that we are together again, we will have a psychic bond and we will use it to lead. My people and yours.”
“Rule. Ours.”
She shook her head in denial.
“Before long, you will sense me the way I have sensed you,” he stated. “It will come slowly, then all at once. In time of trial, the connection will be clear.”
“You read me now?” she asked, not sure what answer she wanted.
“You are not in peril now, nor defensive. Those are the moments I sense you clearly. In time, it will not take such things to use the gift. We could plot an entire battle in the room with our enemy, and they would never know.”
Reveca felt somewhat at ease with this explanation, but she was too focused on the rest of what he said. “You said rule. Not lead. How can a First who is to be slain rule anything?”
“That is a conundrum,” he admitted with a smirk. “Almost as puzzling as how can a First and his lover create Escorts who crave exaltation.”
Reveca’s mouth gaped, then staggered backward. “Not possible—Cashton, Raven.”
“Both full of bliss,” King said. “I don’t understand it, Reveca. And I sure as hell have not had a conference with the almighty Creator, but I know Revelin’s emotion is vast, more so than the others, for he was the first to be created. I know now the reason Revelin did not come after the Helco faction, the reason so many followed me without fear, was because they were mine, ours. I know beyond these millions of men who have been with me, there are others, and they have been beautifully hidden, so much so one would think the Creator had a sense of humor. Because no one would think to look for this army, and when it rises, our enemies will have little time to do more than cower.”
“You’re safe…he can’t smite you,” hope dared to broach her tone.
That was all Reveca heard out of everything he said. She didn’t hear she had created dark angels from her very own soul. She didn’t hear she was a Goddess.
“The collective theory is he will still try.”
“Whose theory?” she asked, flinching back as if a dream had been ripped from her.
King hesitated before he spoke, knowing she was going to be pissed. “The originals and Cashton.”
“The originals!” She raged. “You took this to my coven! They know of this!”
His grin only enraged her more, his laugh made her fingers flinch to slap him.
“They knew before I did, Love. Your sister said she’s known since before I rode into your world.”
Reveca leered.
“Cashton was counseled on this when he returned from his last trip,” King added.
“And what does my coven say is Revelin’s reason for his continued assault on you! On all of us apparently!”
“When he falls, four will rise in his place. I am a threat to him. You are.”
“Four?”
Reveca’s eyes raced back and forth as she remembered what Cashton had said the night before. She couldn’t fathom how he spoke the words as truth before Crass.
“My queen. I will always serve at your side. Your power humbles me. I wish to stay at your side for all of time.”
“The sovereigns of Bliss and the sovereigns of Exaltation. Two extremes,” King said as he judged her acceptance, or lack thereof.
“This is fantasy. Something this extreme would have been recorded.”
“They say it was, in code. They didn’t proclaim it, for why would anyone tell their enemies they had a goddess living among them, one who was still a child and not yet in power?”
Reveca shook her head in denial, looking all around her as if she was denying the kingdom itself.
“Your proof is Gwinn…Adair, there are more.”
“Adair!”
King caught her before she stepped back and lost her footing.
“I didn’t stutter. I will grant you it is complicated when you think of Talon and Ambrosia, but before Adair was flesh, we marked her as ours, an Escort.”
“Complicated?” Reveca questioned with arched brow.
King pulled her to him then moved her. Before she could blink, she found herself in a royal chamber. A fire was crackling in the hearth. The bed was adorned with fresh linen, and a hot spring circled the entire room.
He sat her down at the edge of the bed. “You look as if you might faint.”
“Not possible.”
“Fainting?”
She gently pushed against his shoulder. “Them.”
“That is the beauty of it all,” he said with a sweet smile as he searched her eyes and knelt before her. “Their mortal lives were in places no one would think to look for them. The witchcraft taught them their emotion in its own way.”
“King, you don’t understand. I was told tonight Gwinn was a Voyager, a time traveler. And Adair’s mother…”
“I know. Escorts can be many things, Love.”
She reached for him and bowed her forehead to his as she struggled to comprehend, still all she heard out of all of this was there was a chance King could survive.
His hands reached up and feathered through her hair as he took her head in his hands. “All this time, I have somehow caused Revelin to look the other way while you stole souls from death, ones that would have been tested to become the Escorts they are, and if they were, all the Gods would have looked at each other and known something was amiss.”
Reveca carefully pulled back, meeting his gaze.
“Escorts are among your ranks Reveca, not all of them, but the fact you’ve drawn even one of them to you—were able to shield them—humbles me so.”
“Who? What are you talking about?”
“Shh,” he whispered as the tips of his fingers moved gently. “You will recognize them when you are ready to.”
She pulled away from. “You can’t lay that bullshit on me. Tell me. I’ll get it when I’m ready.”
“I can. I will. And I did.”
She stood and rushed past him and stopped the second it dawned on her there was nowhere to run to, she was alone with him in this world.
“I told you of Gwinn because you already knew, you knew the second I told you she was an Escort. You can deny it all you want but you wondered, deep down you did.”
“And Adair, was that to ease my jealousy? I should not be offended Ambrosia all but raped Talon all this time and forced a child on him. Because I placed her there, right? That is what Gods do, correct? They direct where their precious essence will reside in flesh.”
King wasn’t chasing her. He’d pulled himself up and was now sitting on the edge of the bed leaning forward and looking up at her through his thick lashes.
“I don’t give a damn if you’re jealous or not. You already knew Adair was yours. You stood before a Lady of Death as a Goddess this night. You protected this faction, and you ensured an alliance between Adair and her mother. One we will need.”
He tilted his head as his gaze took her in. “This fight is not won. This is only the beginning. We not only have to discover what we have blindly done on our own but also raise an army. One that is more than powerful. The bigger the weapon, the bigger the enemy, and the Creator has given us the biggest weapon that I have crossed in my existence. What we have here is unheard of and breaks all the rules.” He paused, narrowing his gaze. “Everything connects. I’m sure of it. Right now, we have to prepare for a heavenly war in obscurity as your Club keeps their fight alive in the mortal and immortal worlds.”
“A fight that is pointless if we fail. All sources should be pulled together as one.”
He moved his head side to side. “The conflict draws out the dormant powers in your flock.”
Reveca closed her eyes. “Shade…he’s one, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to tell him?” Reveca asked as her eyes flipped open.
“Right now, I think he is more concerned with Voyagers.”
“Should we be? I don’t even understand what they’re capable of—they were more farfetched than Escorts to me.”
King grinned a slow, silky grin.
“What?”
“They irony of you, Reveca Beauregard. The great are always the last to know they are.”
She moved closer to him. “You’re flirting with me?”
“Voyagers, at the moment, are allies. I don’t know for sure because their secrets are impenetrable.” He grinned. “So far, they are three for three though, Gwinn, Shade and Adair are safe and sound.”
“At the moment,” Reveca repeated wanting to know what was about to go down.
“Strife brings strength.”
“What is the risk now? I can’t stand by and not do anything.”
“No. It would be impossible, your nature will always call you to fight for them. I meant it Reveca, we are far from the end of this.”
She came upon him.
“But you told me of this destiny anyway…before you were ready to.”
“I did.” He reached for her waist. “I wasn’t completely truthful before,” he admitted, looking up at her. “Control is something I have more of now than before, but it was tested when I felt you and Talon.”
She wanted to look away from his gaze but couldn’t.
“Then I saw it, felt it. I was synced with you. I understood. I didn’t like it, but there it was, and the second I understood, the other things made sense to me. How important Talon is to all of this. I knew hurting him would hurt Adair, and hurting her goes against every grain in my soul.”
He clenched her waist. “I don’t know if you were ready to hear any of this, and I didn’t plan to tell you for decades to come when I understood it more…but there it was, the sync between us, as one way as it may be right now…it saved us, it brought us allies.”
His hands moved along her belt, slowly unfastening it as he stared up at her. “You drive me mad, woman. I will never understand you, no matter how clearly I can read you.”
A near-manic laughter emerged from deep within Reveca. What Windsome had always said about men, to leave them confounded, was ringing in her thoughts.
“Funny is it, then?” he asked, as he unceremoniously removed her clothes. She was still laughing when he laid her across the bed and his kiss landed on her chest. His knee spread her wide for him.
“You shall never stray,” Reveca said as her mirth found a way to quell.
“One can not leave his own soul,” he said as he slid into her, and she bowed her back up to meet him.
Feeling empowered, she clenched her thighs against his waist and turned him to his back.
“Enjoy this now,” she purred as she pushed his shirt up and racked her nails down his chest.
A groan came from deep within him as he squinted his eyes closed. “This power you have.” She rolled her hips and clenched her body around him. “Holding me in place and sending wave after waves of erotic energy through me.”
His moan echoed across the stone walls. His hands reached for her hips, clasping them as he met her every thrust. A rapid speed was building. Their skin was damp and slick with sweat.
“Because the very moment I understand how to do it,” she said as he rose up to meet her lips, “I’m going to make you pay, boy.”
His hands rushed up her back then hooked onto her shoulders. As he pushed her body down onto him, he sent one of the very waves she was speaking of crashing through her—her scream, the sound of his name across her moan was the sweetest sound he had ever heard, he was sure of it.
“Promise,” he grunted as he found his own release.
Her fingertips rushed through his now damp hair. “You’re going to be miserable.”
He laughed as he buried his head in her chest. “My Queen, I love you unceasingly. No matter the life, as long as it is with you, it will be exalting.”
***
An hour before, Adair had woken from a drugged sleep and punched the pillow that was rich with Judge’s cologne.
After Reveca had left, they had all returned to the Boneyard. Church was held with the Sons to plot how they would end the lives of Chalice and Latour and handle the backlash.
Adair had gone straight to the library and downloaded on Gwinn, telling her about her never-ending night, and then she was told of Gwinn’s and what Gwinn knew of Reveca’s.
Adair was wired and ready to power through every book she could, but right as she opened the first one, Judge emerged and told her she needed rest. He wanted her strong before she faced Ambrosia, something he was determined to be at her side for.
She refused. They fought, breaking a few priceless heirlooms in the home before it was all over. Then an hour later, Star brought breakfast, and like a fool, Adair ate it or at least started to, she fell asleep in the middle of it.
He’d drugged her.
And now, he was leaning against the vanity as she got out of the shower.
Shamelessly, Adair reached for a towel and only patted dry, her skin was still entirely too sensitive.
“You fucking drugged me!”
No denial, only a lazy gaze across her body.
“Is it the fucking Boneyard? Something in the air? Testosterone maybe? We had a breakthrough last night—plowed though some major shit. And what do you do? Pick every fight with me and then drug me!”
Unbothered, he answered, “You needed rest.”
“And I am a fucking adult who knows when I need sleep! You asshat.”
He popped a brow.
“What did they say to you in Church? Why did you come out of there slinging punches at me?”
“Punches? Really? You threw the vase at me,” he defended.
“Figuratively, Judge. Fuck me, you are not right,” she said as she started to brush her hair out.
“You keep shaking those at me and I will,” he said as his gaze fixed on her breasts. “Prove the broken theory wrong once and for all.”
She slugged him in the arm and reached for the robe behind the door. “You see what I mean? Last night, this morning, whenever, I told you one of the most painful and embarrassing things about me, and here you are with a murderous gaze in your eyes making fun of it.”
He came up behind her. His hands rushed across the silk of the robe and then down in the shape of a V as he stared at her in
the mirror over her shoulder.
“Wet,” he said as a fingertip slid between her folds.
“You bastard,” she groaned right as his hand slipped further, then inside.
“How’s that feel, are you in pain, Dove?”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
His hard length pressed into her back as his fingers worked a rhythm and his lips brushed across her neck. “No, I’m showing gratitude for hidden miracles.” His lips brushed her jaw as his thumb began to work her clit. “Mine,” he breathed as his right hand moved up her stomach, reaching her chest and then carefully needing the swells. “And you are going to let go for me, Dove. You are going to know how this feels again. You will never be broken under my touch.”
The build was fast, faster than she ever remembered it being in the past, so much so, there was a degree of pain but the good kind. The speed of it made her feel robbed— she wanted to savor the sensation.
Then all at once, her climax slammed through her, and her head fell back on his shoulder as she felt herself come apart for the first time in half a decade.
“Motherfucker,” he said as he slightly shook her. “Adair, look!”
In a drunken haze, she did somewhat open her eyes, then they flew open.
Her flesh, under her tattoo, was glowing. Not all of it, but the scars—or rather, what was under the scars.
Odd images slammed into Adair’s mind. She saw Finley over her with a knife, then she saw the scars, and real fear hit her because she knew what they meant, at least in part.
Adair saw herself scrambling to her knees in a wrecked loft and a book of spells before her. She heard Finley’s voice telling her to read the book, to memorize it.
She struggled to hold on to the memory but could only grasp the emotion—the dread. The disbelief.
“Adair?” Judge said, now sounding frantic.
As the rush of her release faded, so did the glow behind the scars. Now all that could be seen were her tattoos, black crows in flight on a bed of roses. Still, Adair stared; she was pulling all that she could from the memory—the binding of the book, the texture of the pages, what was written on the spine. All of it was right there in her mind, but she’d be damned if she could reach it. The feeling was agonizing, she knew she was running out of time now. She could be down to hours for all she knew.
