Dream Breakers, Oath Takers

by Jacqueline Jayne

  Zane didn’t seem to notice. “I know you’re sleepy.” His breath fluttered sweetly over her cheeks. “But you’ll be better off holding out.”

  “You’re right,” she said, scooting away from him. “I’ve got to hold out.” On more than sleep. The exhausting trip from Paris to Montana had certainly messed with her judgment. Her sex turning damp and a little too tempted to kiss that I’m-looking-after-you smile off his face, she rubbed her eyes, scrubbing away her dirty fantasy.

  Gliding off the opposite side of the bed, she searched the floor for her slip-on sneakers.

  “How about a walk?” Zane got up and strode toward the bathroom door. “It’s cooled off, and the sun won’t set for a few hours.” He stooped and grabbed something from the floor. “Here.” In fluid motion, he straightened and tossed her shoes in her direction. “Supper’s delayed until everyone else gets here.” He said the last line fast, and it took a second for her to process.

  “Everyone else?” She jammed a foot into a shoe and then jimmied her foot around until her heel popped into place.

  “George. And his son,” he informed with a tone of disdain. “I think it’s too soon for you to meet him, but they would have been here anyway. He’s a widower and Mom feels inclined to take care of them. They’re probably over here for dinner two or three times a week at least. I’ve given the orders to leave you alone for tonight.”

  “It’s okay.” She slid her foot into the other shoe and wiggled it. “Your mother’s very nurturing. You probably don’t even realize—”

  “I’d have to be blind not to. Here.” He extended his muscular forearm and placed her hand on it for support.

  Rotating her ankle, she leaned more of her weight on his arm. All that hard muscle against her palm wasn’t helping her forget temptation. Neither was stealing a glimpse into his studious gaze.

  “I realize lots of things, Cutoffs.”

  There it was again. That look. That look of a bared soul, of wisdom and emotional sophistication she hadn’t expected because he wore a cowboy hat.

  Rush was wrong.

  It wasn’t fancy talk and it wasn’t highfaluting degrees that scared girls away from Zane Gideon.

  Either subconsciously or on purpose, Zane used his unique litmus test to measure the eyes studying him. He was a man—strong-willed and purposeful, honed by deep intellect.

  Mere girls wouldn’t make the cut.

  The shoe slid into place, and she held onto him a moment longer than necessary. “Hard to believe you notice so much, considering you talk,” a teasing grin spread across her face, “incessantly.”

  A moment of perfect quiet filled the space between them. He broke it with a flash of dimples. “I’m a man of many talents.” He tossed the feather into the pencil cup on the computer desk. “Come on, Cutoffs. You’ve already been here a half hour and haven’t gotten the nickel tour.”

  Had he hesitated a moment longer, Delphine might have done something regretful. Might have jeopardized her chance at complete freedom.

  But no one, not even a tall cowboy with a philosopher’s heart and sensuous lips, would keep her from shedding her unwanted gift.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Wasted more than he cared admit, Swift laid down, resting his back against the hard stone floor so he could stare up at the stone ceiling. Redundant and predictable, his twelve-by-ten cell reminded him of the Eastern State Penitentiary, right down to the medieval steel slatted door. Now more than ever. The guards had removed all his comforts a short while ago. No bed. No pillow. Not even a blanket to provide minimum protection from the floor.

  He still felt better than he had in what was probably a few months.

  Baalberith finally left him entirely alone.

  No badgering, no bullying, no threats of eternal punishment. Relief of epic proportions rushed endorphins to his weary brain. Why his demon-dad believed he’d experience a psychic connection out of sheer will baffled him. Was the dude naïve or plain stupid?

  Didn’t matter. Since Swift wasn’t chained down, he predicted this time alone wouldn’t last long.

  He had to act fast.

  Focused on the ceiling and nothing else, the pattern of chipped paint and bare stone blurred like the pebbles in a kaleidoscope. The confines of the cell seemed to fall away, and he floated in a state of perfect dream consciousness.

  “Niall,” he whispered so he wouldn’t draw the attention of the guard posted outside his door. “Can you hear me, old man?”

  The shade materialized, hovering above him. “Though true, I resent the snipes at my age.” A grin teased one corner of his mouth. “Where are you? I’ve been trying to reach out, but you—”

  “I don’t know where I am. Could be the second ring or as low as the ninth. Dear old Dad hasn’t let me out of his sight for months. We’ve been here for a good while, but before that, we kept moving. This is the first chance I’ve been able to soul tap. We’ll have to talk fast.”

  “Why does he keep you on the move? The Hell Runners are shut down. At least as far as I can tell. I’ve been sitting vigil near the Philadelphia Gate for two months. No one’s come through, and I can’t reach Prudence unless she’s in this realm.”

  “They’re not coming through because Baalberith has blocked all psychic traffic to the oracles. Without visions, the Council will forbid missions.”

  “But what about you? Won’t they look for you?”

  “That’s what I’ve been working on. As his son, I can breach the psychic blockade periodically. But that’s no good unless someone is open to my transmission. The oracles have gone completely dark. No connections. All except for one.”

  “Connie?”

  “No. Not Con, but I can’t get a clear read on who it is. All I know is she’s female and reticent. Every time I think she’s heard me yell or seen my face, I get cut off. She’s running away from me, which doesn’t make sense. Oracles accept and record. I can think of only one explanation. Fear. Of something worse than me, and I think I know what that is. I’ve got to reach her before…” He trailed off at the sound of voices in the distance. They could be close or far, too hard to tell in his altered state of mind.

  “Reach her before what?” Niall started to dissolve, the connection breaking with his distracted concentration.

  Swift blurted out the rest as fast as he could. “Before my sister gets her talons into her. That’s why Baalberith is holding me captive. He won’t let me go until I locate my demon sister, Luciana. Apparently, I’m supposed to detect her with my eternal sibling connection. So far I can’t do it, though I’m not trying all that hard. Been using my concentration on the reluctant oracle. Eventually, I’ll stumble on Luciana, I know it. I feel her presence looming. If I connect to both the oracle and Luciana at the same time, I can’t predict what will happen. I do know, once Baalberith finds her, Hell Runners is caput. Forever.”

  “How can he do that?”

  “Luciana got tired of dealing with her daddy issues and hit the bricks a long time ago. When she took off, she stole two of his most prized possessions.”

  Niall shrugged. “I can’t imagine he prizes anything other than his own reflection.”

  “His reflection doesn’t give him enough power. With all we know about the Doors to Heaven, what she stole is as valuable to us as to Baalberith.”

  The old shade’s apparition waffled, struggling to stay connected. “Quickly, Wilder. The air is changing. I’m losing my hold on you.”

  “The ring he wore as Lord of the Covenant and the master—”

  A breeze like the North Winds cut a frigid swath through his cell. Niall vanished, and the cold floor slammed into Swift’s back.

  “Why couldn’t I see you?” Sticky spit spewed from the guard’s hideous maw, landing in a hot spray on Swift’s cheeks. Face shaped like a dog’s snout with innumerable rows of fangs impeded the creature’s ability to speak proper English.

  Swift wiped his face with his bare forearm and then leaped to his feet, a half-tr
uth already formed on his lips. “Dumbass.” He shoved a finger into the guard’s muscular chest, probably the stupidest move he could’ve chosen. Built and dressed like a professional wrestler, the half man-half canine was double Swift’s size. If the dumbass wanted to pound him to dust, it would take only one blow. “I become transparent when in a state of intense concentration.” He poked a finger at his temple. “When I transcend realms with my mind, my body loses substance. Or are you too stupid to understand that.”

  The guard growled, low and malevolent as a tortured animal.

  Instead of heeding the warning, Swift continued his tirade. “Shit, I’d almost connected to the elusive one.” He pinched the air with a thumb and forefinger. “This close to pleasing your master.” Slowly, he forced a grin and narrowed his gaze at the ugly minion. “Now he will know it’s your fault I failed. Your fault his daughter is still in hiding. I hope you enjoyed your short existence.”

  The growling ceased instantly, and the vicious guard dropped to one knee. He begged for his life in sputtering most unbecoming a turnkey for Hell. “Please pardon my intrusion, but I thought you’d escaped.”

  “How could I escape? There is no escape from the great Baalberith. As you will soon learn.”

  “I have served his lordship for many years. He surely will not—”

  “He surely will, and you know that or you wouldn’t have bent a knee. Unless I keep my mouth shut.” Swift paused for dramatic effect. The trademark of a good grift is knowing when to hold your tongue.

  The guard spoke in record time. “Will you? Keep our secret.”

  “For a price.”

  Nodding, dog-man clambered to his feet. “What is your price?”

  “I’ll let you know. When I ask, you’ll do as I say without question.”

  The hair from the demon’s forehead to down the back of his neck bristled like a shepherd on a taut chain, but he nodded acquiescence.

  “Smart man. Stay close, even if Baalberith sends you away.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “You all right, Cutoffs?” Zane turned and called to her with genuine worry in his voice.

  “Sorry.” She’d stopped in the middle of the road without realizing it. “I’ve never seen a view as magnificent and can’t imagine the privilege of living right in this spot. The jagged mountains against the bright blue sky take my breath. But it doesn’t stop at the dramatic horizon. The tree covered slopes fan out into meadows splattered a million shades of green so lush, I’d have to spend a fortune in paint to create all the shades.” She pointed to the far right of the ranch. “Your parent’s own that too?”

  “Yup.”

  “The deep indigo of the lake’s surface begs for stone skipping, provided someone teaches me how. I’ve never done it.” She smiled and he flashed a coy grin.

  “I can do that.” His lips spread far enough to show teeth and deepen the indentations on either side of his mouth.

  She liked having summoned his dimples with a simple gesture. “If I had my supplies with me, I’d stand right here every day for a month and do nothing but replicate this panorama. You probably don’t appreciate it, but I spent my entire life dreaming of travel. I wanted to explore European cities that teemed with culture and inspiration so strong I’d wear through a thousand tubes of paint. The American West hadn’t even been a ghost on that imaginary itinerary. Standing here, I wonder why not.”

  “Yeah. It ain’t ugly.” He hooked his thumbs into his back pockets and ambled her way. “A local took a decent shot at painting it once. But he wasn’t as good as you.”

  “I wish you’d stop that.”

  “Wish all you want, Cutoffs.” He kicked the gravel with the toe of his boot and started walking again, a slow stroll that wouldn’t take them too far from the house. “Why can’t you take an innocent compliment?”

  She didn’t want to answer. Looking at her with eyes the exact color of the sky behind him, it was easy to change the subject.

  “No wonder you’re so damn tall. There’s nothing out here to hold you down.”

  “Dad always said it was because I tried to touch the stars.” He glanced up. “You’ll see what I mean tonight. If you think all this blue is spectacular, wait until the sun sets.”

  “I almost can’t breathe as it is,” she said, her eyes not above but on the jut of his upturned chin and the angle of his defined jaw.

  “Can’t breathe? There’s nothing but air out here.” He filled his lungs, expanding his broad chest until she could see the outline of his pecs beneath his cotton shirt. “Clean and sweet.”

  “I don’t know if I’d call it all sweet. Your horses do their share of polluting.”

  “That’s not polluting. That’s nature. The way God intended.” Subtle as the breeze in her hair, he slipped his fingers between hers and clasped.

  She swung their joined hands up. “You going to keep trying? Even after you agreed to my conditions?”

  “Holding hands does not violate your conditions. It’s a safety precaution.”

  “Safety?”

  “Yeah. Easier to pull you back to the house after you step on a rattler.”

  “Snakes?” She squeezed his hand and halted. “You’re kidding.”

  His grin spread wide as the mountain range. “Only about dragging you back to the house. I’d carry you to keep the poison from spreading too fast.” He tugged her forward and recommenced their stroll. “No worries, Cutoffs. Snake bites out here are more rare than city slickers adapting to the west.”

  “Wait. I’m a city slicker. You think I can’t adapt?”

  “I think you could do anything you want, except take a compliment. Is it me? Or everyone?”

  The man was as relentless as he was sexy.

  She shrugged. “Don’t like anything false, I guess.”

  “Compliments don’t have to be false.” His sights cut to her. “I’m not Savard. I’m not bullshitting in order to lead you into a trap.”

  “That’s not it.” Delphine sighed, hoping he’d let it go.

  “Then what is it?” When she didn’t answer, he reverted to his professorial self. “Because I’ve spent a considerable amount of time with you over the past couple of days, I’m going to take an educated guess. Since you’ve spent most of your life caring for your mother, you didn’t bond with anyone. No family other than a distant grandmother. No close friends. You probably made a few casual friends in school that hit the bricks after meeting your mom. They probably made fun of you and avoided you, as if they could catch crazy. So you don’t trust. Am I wrong?”

  Chest aching more from his dead-on assessment than from the super clean air she’d hungrily inhaled, she shook her head.

  “Don’t blame you. Many people are complete assholes. Especially when they’re young and looking to climb the high school social ladder. But you’re long past high school, Cutoffs. Wasn’t there anyone you trusted?” He paused and looked off into the distance at the lake. “Or loved?”

  “Is this part of my training? Digging deep enough to wound?”

  “In a manner of speaking. Strength in the face of adversity is vital to the process. You have that in spades, but since you don’t talk about your past, I can only assume you’ve walled it off.”

  “The wall works.”

  “Wrong. What’s on the other side doesn’t go away because you want to be done with the past. Deep meditation and the subsequent hypnosis will vaporize that wall. If you’re not willing or capable of embracing the past and who you are as a result, the visions will overpower you.”

  “Overpower me?” Zane never mentioned the possibility of failure, only erasing her gift. “What are you saying? Exactly?”

  “Part of me believes spoon feeding you the truth would be kinder. But Dad thinks otherwise, and after I blew him off, I realized he’s right.” Zane stopped and turned her to face him. “I was going to wait until after dinner, but since…”

  He trailed off, and she followed his line of sight just as she heard the cr
unch of rubber tire on gravel.

  A pickup truck, black and lightly coated with dust, pulled past the house and headed straight toward them.

  “Shit.”

  She registered Zane’s quiet curse and felt the tension in his hand right before his fingers fell away.

  The truck slowed to a stop and idled beside them. Elbow sticking out of the downed window, the man driving grinned at Zane with something Delphine could only describe as relief. Long ebony hair streaked with gray had been pulled off his perspiring face into a ponytail. A few age lines creased vertically in his deeply bronzed cheeks, and stars of crow’s feet crinkled at the corners of his twinkling brown eyes.

  “It’s been too long, Hawk.” He extended his arm and clutched Zane’s hand in his.

  “I’ve missed you, old man.” Zane leaned through the window, and they hugged.

  The man wasn’t a godfather in name alone. Obviously, a strong bond had been forged between them, but it didn’t explain the rigidity she’d felt in Zane right before he pulled up.

  “And this beautiful gal must be?”

  “Delphine.” Zane motioned for her to come closer. “Meet George.”

  She stepped closer, and Zane rested his hand at the small of her back.

  “Pleased to meet you.” She reached out and shook with George. He held her fingers firmly and met her gaze.

  “Likewise.” Though his eyes never left her face, she sensed him assessing her and wondered if the shaman possessed some mystical power to see into her heart. “I’m surprised you’re both awake. Transcontinental flights wipe me out, but then again, I’m not young anymore.”

  “You know Mom. No sleep until normal hours.”

  A throat cleared, far too deep for the child she’d expected to join them for supper. He leaned forward, gripping the dash with a long tapered hand. The toned muscles of his forearm flexed beneath flawlessly tanned skin.

  Without question, the young man sitting shotgun was George’s son. Surprisingly, his black hair was styled in a short modern cut that required pomade to keep it in place, but his eyes, shiny as two chocolate drops, and the bowed shape of his mouth belonged to his handsome dad.