by Jami Gray
“You’ll be back?” Feeling raw and exposed, she couldn’t hide the tremor in her voice.
Keeping his back to her, he said, “I will.” He looked at Ash who had followed from the kitchen and now watched them from the entryway. His, “Stay close,” was answered with a soft woof. Then she watched the man she loved walk out of the house, taking her battered heart with him, and wondered if either would make it back.
Chapter Nineteen
Cheveyo’s legs couldn’t carry him away fast enough, but he refused to run. Instead, he kept his pace under ruthless control, striding out into the darkness and away from the cabin and the woman huddled on the couch inside. He needed space, from her tears, her guilt, and his anger. The emotional devastation held captive in his chest scraped against bone and beat against his skin, demanding escape. The whirlwind of shock, anger, grief, and disbelief mocked his earlier assumption of Tala’s secret.
A child. They created a child, a small being of infinite possibilities, and he never knew. Was never given a chance to celebrate the existence, brief though it was, of his daughter. His reactions swept across the spectrum, from white-hot anger that Tala dared to keep this from him, to surging grief at their loss. In between, he bounced from understanding the why’s behind her logic to self-directed disgust at not reaching beyond his pride to pick up a damn phone in those early years, to resenting her immature and admittedly selfish decisions.
As he moved deeper into the night-shrouded wilderness and further away from the oasis of reality, his rioting emotions triggered a duplicate reaction from his magic. He held the storm back through sheer force of will until he found a spot he considered safe.
Jerking to a halt, he stood, stiff and brittle, among the fallen tree trunks who surrendered to the relentless combination of time and age. They lay as if tossed by a giant hand, leaving the younger wooden giants standing guard over their fallen comrades. With the ease of familiarity, he raised a warded circle, ensuring what he freed within the magical boundaries, would stay safely separated from the rest of the world and undetectable by even someone of Tala’s strength. Warding in place, he dropped all pretense at control.
Magic and emotion clashed in a near silent wave, creating a devastating force, one he directed toward the fallen sentries. Emotion-driven energy washed over the clearing. Thick, hoary skins tore under invisible claws as the energy stripped the wood from the thick logs. As each curling piece came free, it floated in the air, the wood taking on deeper tones while eerie flames in gold and browns licked over the edges with a voracious appetite. Other logs burst apart as if ripped from the inside out by silent explosions of gold-lined light and were reduced to deadly slivers held back by the magic standing guard.
In the midst of all the destruction, he stood, his hands weaving power that he sent out into the hapless deadfall, to scorch, to tear, to give silent voice to the over-whelming storm tearing him apart.
Here, within the warded circle, he didn’t hold back, didn’t have to, because his magic wouldn’t seep past his protections and hurt those he held dear.
Eventually, the storm in him began to subside, and the magic he wielded began to retreat, letting the real world come back in pieces. As the last of his magical temper tantrum subsided, he stood, hands fisted at his side, sweat layered along his spine, his chest heaving. He stood still, strangely empty.
Around him, there were no more logs littering the forest’s floor. Instead, in some places, there was a thin carpet of ash, and, in others, a mat of stripped bark. Catching sight of marred trunks of the standing trees, he gathered his power once again, but this time he sent it out in a healing wave, soothing the wounds he unintentionally created. Once the wounded trees were tended to, he dropped his circle and the night’s air swept through, taking with it the lingering traces of ozone left from over-used magic.
He stood there, letting nature sooth the ragged edges of his soul. It might not be the familiarity of the ocean from home, but even here in the high desert, Mother Nature didn’t shy from offering what comfort she could.
He let the quiet and calm find its way into his hollowed out parts, and his muscles slowly unknotted. He lifted his head back and took in the stars shining high above. It would be so much easier to be up there than down here.
A vibration in his back pocket interrupted his musings. He heaved a sigh and retrieved his phone without looking at the screen. “What?”
“Are you quite through now?” an unexpected voice asked drily.
He grimaced and wrapped his free hand around the back of his neck. “Are you checking up on me Raine?”
“Would you prefer I contact you via our personal line?”
“Oh hell no,” he barked, not when he was basically standing emotionally naked in the woods.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” She paused. “You okay?”
“No, but I will be.” Because he had no other choice. “Chay called you.” It wasn’t a question.
“He gave us a head’s up. Said he was down in Phoenix with a wizard, checking on a car wreck?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed, then he gave a quick run down on the current situation.
She let out a low whistle. “Sounds like Leo’s already got his nasty-ass claws into someone. Any idea who?”
“Not that I’m willing to share yet.” Mainly because he didn’t want to give her or Gavin an excuse to come running down here when they realized just how many suspects he had in mind.
“How’s Tala dealing with having you back?”
He found a relatively flat stump to sit on and took a seat. “Are you fishing, Raine?”
There was a muffled curse, then a sigh before her reluctant, “Maybe.”
His lips twitched, but she wasn’t done surprising him.
“Look, Cheveyo, normally I’d stay the hell out of whatever it is you two have going, but our shared door is a little worse for wear and things leaked through—”
“Like?” he prompted when she paused. He didn’t bother explaining that it wasn’t the door, but the fact that each of their magic had changed, evolved into something unexpected and much stronger than when he first forged their psychic connection.
“Like the kind of pain you get when someone betrays you.” Her answer was weirdly hesitant and unsure.
It was so out of character for Raine that he actually pulled the phone from his ear and frowned at the screen, wondering if this was some stress-induced hallucination. He put it back to his ear and caught the rest of what she was saying.
“…or not, I promise whatever she did, it wasn’t to hurt you. That woman loves you something scary.” The last part came out in a less than gracious tone.
Faintly amused by the entire situation, he murmured, “I wasn’t aware you and Tala had become best friends.”
That earned him a snort. “Please. That’s definitely one thing you don’t ever have to worry about. That woman is beyond ruthless, trust me.”
He shook his head and rubbed at the lingering ache in his chest. “And you’re not?”
“I am, which is why I hope you’re hearing me.” The gravity in her voice gave him pause. “I’ve watched her with you, and I got a front row seat to how far she was willing to go to keep you safe. Tala would use anyone, do anything, to protect someone she considered hers. It may not be pretty, and it may be hard to accept, but whatever she did, she did it because she was trying to keep you safe.”
And that fast his temper spiked, his hand tightened on the phone, and his voice deepened with anger. “Perhaps others should worry less about my protection and more about their own.” He didn’t wait for her response. “I know you and Gavin think you have me pegged, and I know why.” He ignored her sharp intake of breath and kept going, “But you two need to remember, in the scheme of things, you’re rookies. Powerful rookies, no doubt, but there is a difference between power and experience. It might serve you both to remember who came before you.”
There was a heavy silence broken by a burst of static, a telltale
clue that Raine’s hold on her temper was slipping “Don’t let age blind you with arrogance, Cheveyo,” her voice carried a brittle edge. “Because more than one leader has made that mistake.”
He gave her credit for not backing down. It was admirable—foolish, but admirable. “I’ve never been one of them.” He let his statement hang between them for a moment like an unsheathed blade, before going back to her original concern. “Look, Raine, I appreciate you reaching out, and even coming to Tala’s defense. However, I’m dealing with it.” His voice lost the contrary edge and gentled, knowing it hadn’t been easy for this very private woman to reach out the way she had. “As I told you before, some things are personal.”
“Whatever,” she snapped. “Just do me a favor and don’t get your ass killed. Dealing with an irate Natasha is not on my to-do list.” With that, she hung up.
“I’m trying,” he muttered to himself as he pocketed his phone. Then he shifted to the psychic plane and reinforced the door, ensuring there would be no more leakage, as Raine put it.
He had no intention of playing his relationship with Tala out in front of an audience, nor was he inclined to reveal the existence of his lost daughter. Either one would present too tempting a target for those willing to exploit it. Not that Raine would betray him, at least not intentionally, but as he warned, she and Gavin were about to step into the ring with some frighteningly heavy hitters, and those were enemies you couldn’t afford to underestimate.
With the door reinforced, he shifted back to the mortal world and began to work his way through the emotional quagmire.
If Tala had told him about Aponi years ago, what would he have done? He knew himself well enough to answer with brutal honesty. He would have demanded Tala come to Oregon with him, to leave her new position. How fair would that have been? To either of them? Hell, he wasn’t sure Tala would’ve come anyway. And if she had, how long would it have taken before resentment replaced love? She wasn’t wrong when she said he had started pulling back. Torn between what his heart wanted and what Tala needed, he put emotional distance between them, justifying it with ruthless practicality. A purely self-defense move, but one he regretted.
Instead of driving himself nuts with the what-ifs, he accepted that perhaps Tala’s decision was justified. And once he admitted that, he could put the rest of her actions in perspective and start to come to terms with what she shared.
Now, for a relationship to work for them, he needed to be able to accept exactly what Raine pointed out, Tala was a power to be reckoned with, and she wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever she deemed necessary to protect the one she loved. Considering he’d be hard pressed not to do the same, if not worse, he couldn’t blame her. Which left him with one last question—could he forgive her?
Yes. The answer came from his heart, echoing deep in his soul and settled into his bones.
Unfortunately, a haunting whisper that held Tala’s familiar voice chased the echo, a reminder there was one question still left—
Would she be able to forgive herself?
Chapter Twenty
When Cheveyo got back to the cabin a few hours later, he opened the door to find the light of a table lamp keeping watch in the living room. Ash lifted his head from his bed and watched him come in and lock the door behind him. When he turned back, Ash had resettled.
Cheveyo left his shoes by the door and the light on, exhaustion weighing him down. He moved down the hall, his steps quiet. There was a night light in the hall, its soft glow revealing the invitation of Tala’s partially opened door.
For a moment, he debated if he should stay in the room she gave him, but the lingering ache in his chest propelled him forward. What he needed lay in that room. Besides, he wasn’t the only one hurting here. Tonight he needed to hold her in his arms, and maybe it would ease the ache for them both. He stood in her doorway, nudging her door wide enough to see her. She lay on her side, back to the door, knees bent, her unbraided hair glowing under the minimal light.
Instead of slipping inside, he turned and went to his room where he gathered his sleeping pants and headed for the hall bathroom. It was another twenty or thirty minutes before he emerged from the steam-shrouded bathroom, hair damp, and padded back to Tala’s room. He slipped inside, careful to close the door most of the way, leaving it open just enough so if Ash decided to relocate, Cheveyo wouldn’t be forced to get up and let him in.
He lifted the quilt and sheet then slid in behind her, fitting his body to hers, his arm curling around her hips. His body began to relax as her warmth met his. He expected her to murmur and shift, regardless of how deeply she slept. When she didn’t move, he frowned. Her unnatural stillness sent off a series of internal alarms. Disquieted, he called her name softly as he braced on one hand to lean over her, “Tala?”
When she didn’t respond, he nudged her onto her back even as his sent his magic toward the side lamps in silent demand. The lights came on, chasing back the shadows, and fell over the woman lying so unnervingly still.
Shaken, he sat up and placed his hand on the center of her chest—the reassuring rise and fall was shallow, but there. A visual check assured him there were no obvious signs of violence, no cuts, bruises, or any other wounds. She appeared to be simply sleeping.
He cupped her face in his hands and leaned in close. “Tala, wake up.”
Nothing. His alarm spread. Protected as they were by Tala’s wards, they should be safe from harmful magics, but logic failed to reassure him. Sinking power into his voice, he called her again, this time invoking her full name with an inescapable combination of command and power, “Wake, Tala Isolde Whiteriver.”
His magic-laced demand clawed for purchase but found none and slid away, proof that someone managed to breach her protections. Narrowing his eyes, he lifted his head and with a soft utterance, sent his magic out to scour the room for spelled traps—something he should have done in the first damn place.
His detection spell swept through the bedroom and turned up nothing. Muttering a soft curse, he got off the bed and widened the search to include the closet and bathroom. Like running an invisible hand over every inch of the room, he searched every corner.
And, still, he almost missed it.
He took a step toward the bathroom before caution tugged him back. “Ash!”
In moments, Tala’s wolf was nosing his way into the bedroom. “Guard her.”
Despite his recent injuries, Ash didn’t hesitate to leap onto the bed. He stretched along Tala’s side, alert and watchful.
Knowing not much would get by the wolf, Cheveyo headed into the bathroom. He stood in the doorway and flicked on the light. Nothing appeared out of place, an easy tell as Tala carried a touch of the neat freak gene. Concentrating on the detection spell, he narrowed its focus in order to better pinpoint the unusual bump in the existing energy’s weave. For those who worked with magic, the world was an ever-changing landscape of energies. Controlling and manipulating those energies were the basis for most Kyn abilities. Not all, but most.
Like a psychic game of hot and cold, he started at the door and worked his way in. He found what he wanted at the bottom edge of the mirror behind the sink. Like an annoying, barely there thistle, the spell was buried under the mirror’s edge.
Another damn mirror spell. This one much more disturbing, considering where it was located and who had recent access to Tala’s home. At least he knew who would be the first person he would be hunting down after he woke Tala up.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t undo the spell or use a counter spell because the insidious nature of mirror magic was based in trapping its victims with their own heart’s desires and minds. Breaking it in this realm was more likely to leave Tala forever held wherever she was, with no way back. Something he was certain the castor hoped for when putting this nasty piece of work in place. However, he could ensure no one else tripped it. Encasing the mirror in a holding spell didn’t take long. Keying that protection to recognize himself and Chay took a bit longe
r. Call him cynical, but he didn’t trust anyone else not to either destroy the evidence or the mirror itself in an attempt to get to him and Tala.
With the protective spell in place, he went back to the bedroom. “Ash, I need you to stand guard at the door.”
The wolf got off the bed and took a guard position inside the door, his gaze watchful.
Satisfied he had done all he could to ensure the protection of their physical bodies, Cheveyo took his spot on the bed and pulled the non-responsive Tala into his arms. He turned his head to meet Ash’s lupine gaze. “Don’t let anyone but Chay in, understand?”
Taking Ash’s soft chuff as an affirmative answer, Cheveyo called his magic and wove his strongest protection ward. The lethal safeguard snapped into place ensuring that while he dream walked to get Tala, should anyone get past Ash that would be as far as they got. They were as safe as he could make it.
He tightened his hold on Tala, closed his eyes, and shifted worlds.
Feminine laughter, interspersed with childish giggles caught his ears first, and he opened his eyes to find he was standing next to a picnic table, the sun shining over a campsite. He laid his hand on the sun-warmed surface and looked around, recognizing by the surrounding forest that he was still in Flagstaff. There was a blue tent pitched off to the side, and two camping chairs were positioned around a fire pit while a cooler chest played side table. A fishing pole was propped against a nearby tree, and a netted bag hung from one sturdy branch.
“Ape’, you coming?” a young girl called.
He turned toward the young voice calling him father in the language of his birth, his heart beating hard in his chest. Sunlight danced in playful abandon over a nearby river, blinding him with a dizzying portrait of colors and shadows.
“We’re waiting, Cheveyo.” Tala’s teasing addition left him bracing against the picnic table. The light show dispersed revealing a bittersweet vision patched together from a half-remembered dream.
