Her fist clutched the ring on her finger as if it held the moment in its golden surface and she refused to let go. “Arylin promised you would find me again…that your soul cried to find mine. And I believed her with my whole heart.”
Cole wrapped her hands with his palms. “So it was, Mianna, and so it is even now. My soul longs for you every waking moment.”
The sun peeked through the window, and sparks danced off the diamond in her ring as she slid her hands from beneath his. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him into a tender kiss. He embraced the most treasured soul in his life and closed his eyes. Mianna.
Pure love poured from her, complete, unquestioning, and Cole’s soul ached. Whenever they deemed it time to fulfill the prophecy would be too soon.
Mianna’s soft voice interrupted Cole’s thoughts and called him back to the precious moment. Her hand slid from his shoulder, and she looked at the ring. “I’ve remembered things the last couple days.”
“My love, perhaps when Unsigh carried you back to Mianna’s life, your mind was opened to your other experiences that would aid in your soul’s progression.”
She shook her head, patience evident in her loving voice. “It’s beyond Unsigh. I believe Arylin is speaking to me, showing me important moments from my lives. And I think it’s time that I read the book.”
His brow furrowed. “What book?”
She pulled away enough to look into his eyes. “The book the gods gave your father when I was to be born.”
“The gods gave Father a book when you were born?”
“Not when I was born. When I was to be born. I know it sounds absurd, Cole. But I saw it. Arylin handed it to him.”
“Your life as Mianna was your first, my love. You wouldn’t see the happenings of things before then. The gods have to birth a new soul at that time.”
Mianna blinked, and her thumb ran across the bottom of her rings. Her head slowly moved from side to side. “I saw it,” she whispered.
Rocking backward on his knee, Cole braced himself against the sinking sensation in his stomach. Through the emotions he picked up from her, he knew she believed what she saw to be truth with every fiber of her being, and with it entailing his father, whatever would come of this could not be good.
Chapter Eleven
Vincent splashed water on his face, and then wiped it along his hair. The cool refreshment elicited the shudder that had edged him from the time he left the study. The story of the prophecy only pushed the memories of his father further into a bog he didn’t want to visit. How could one man accomplish so much deceit in his lifetime?
And to the point of changing the natural course of evolution for an entire world? “Thank the Gods I wasn’t in on everything that happened,” he murmured. “This is enough to carry through the next thousand years.”
“Vince?” Elaina’s voice filtered to him from the bedroom, and his soul welcomed the sweet sound.
“In here.”
Strawberry curls appeared around the door, followed by the most beautiful red-head in Shilo City. He swiped a towel over his face, tossed it in the sink, and then turned to take her in his arms. The charming mouth that spoke his name curved upward as he pulled her tightly against him and then stepped into a circle. Her laughter wrapped around his heart, warmed his chest with joy, and as he drank in the pure sunshine in her freckled countenance, his worries drifted to the back of his mind. Elaina.
How could he be so lucky, so blessed to have found the soul in his first lifespan who would accompany him through the eternities? He bent to taste her lips, but his jaw slowly dropped as the reality of his thoughts washed over him. So few found their true soul mate before two lifetimes passed, yet the gods had guided them together. A small grin played on his lips as he recalled how they first met. He hadn’t been keen on attending the opening of Vissoni’s Art Fountain that day with James, but something urged him to go. As he walked around a three tiered waterfall, she came into view like an artist’s rendition of a fairy tale princess. The only thing taming the curls of her long strawberry blonde hair was a bow pinned high on the crown of her head. The rest tumbled down her back in bunched waves of unrestrained charm. Her profile painted the epitome of innocence; a gentle slope that ended in a little upturned nose, light brown freckles that dotted the cutest apple cheeks he’d seen, and blue eyes that sparkled as she peered at the magical-looking shapes produced by the streams of water within the artist’s instrument. The daughter of the owner of the largest pool of artisans in the city seemed to tear her gaze from the wonderment to look his way…
Vincent’s pallet tingled as the scent of honey mixed with the natural licorice aroma of the men of Meridian. The Breath of Zypher swirled around his tongue, and he allowed it to pool against his love’s face to manifest his desire.
Elaina’s hands traveled his back, and then gripped his shoulders, as he tangled his fingers into her curls. “Elaina. My home.”
Her voice came forth in an airy breath, “Vince. You seem so intense. Is everything okay?”
He shook his head. If you only knew. “If I could just forget, for a while, that I’m a Sentinel whose duty is to the Gods and must be fulfilled at any cost.”
Her perplexed gaze melted, and she seemed to search for something within him. “Oh, Vincent. If only I could take your cares away.”
Vincent sucked a stream of air through his teeth. “If I had my way, I would take you to the furthest reaches of Terra and spend eternity making love to you. I need you so much right now.”
“Remember the time you rushed me upstairs by Smoke of Night after you learned about what your father did? I felt how much you needed me and never experienced anything like that before. I felt your pain. Your heart was open to me in a way no one else has ever been in my life. Do it now, Vince. Take on the Smoke of Night with me in your arms. Allow me to share your troubles.”
Vincent leaned his head in wonder. Such love to want to take on his worries in that way. It was true; disembodiment multiplied the senses and made it hard to hide feelings from someone. But her asking for the experience solidified their everlasting commitment to love. “Oh, Elaina.”
“Do it, Vince,” she whispered. A quick breath puffed against his lips, and she wriggled in his embrace. “Fly with me into the heights, and make love to me with your everything.”
He had to admit that was one thing he’d never experienced—or thought about for that matter. Forget his cares. Forget his new position and the prophecy. To share his innermost feelings with Elaina would be so appropriate…and blasted hot! A low growl rumbled in his throat.
Vincent peered at the beautiful windows of her soul. His fingertips skimmed her shoulders, and the straps to her sundress slid down her arms. Savoring the soft skin at her neck, he dissolved their bodies into the Smoke of Night. A wash of excitement burst from her as their disembodiment freed thought and heart. Every fiber of her opened to him, trusting, subjective. Never had he been given the gift of total access to all corners of a woman’s being; Love, fear, insecurities, rage…and with Elaina, it was so damned erotic!
Vincent whisked them high into the upper scope of their bedroom. Talking about it held nothing to experiencing it first hand, and the small embers that ignited in the lavatory burst into flares. Heat pulsed within their dark cloud with each swoop, turn, and trill they rode. Cool air filtered through the open window and felt like an icy blast against their aroused essences. His heart exploded—or was it another part of him? Who cared? Eternity stretched in all directions, and Elaina accompanied him in a seductive dance of love.
Elaina’s particles shivered in conjunction with her thoughts of his touch, and he turned her higher, pressing the moment to allow her the most of the experience. He imagined her deep breath lifting two perfect breasts, the arch in her cloud as her back against the blanket. His excitement escalated, throwing bright glittering power sparks to dance within their essences. She ebbed from him, swooped to the edge of his reach, and then merged with him,
pressing against particles he didn’t know existed. Delirium sent his mind in a whirl.
Spangles erupted from deep within their joined particles. Each movement ground against his will, and a fire he didn’t know existed within her burned him from inside out. Strobes flashed. Flares arched in all directions, and as he tightened their molecules to push the pleasure to its fullest, bulbs in the chandelier exploded. Sprites of electricity glistened through their cloud.
Oh holy ethereal Gods!
Vincent grabbed at Elaina’s essence, spun around the burst electrical outlets, and then pulled their particles together, letting their clothes land on the floor. As they formed on the downy comforters, their bodies still joined, he released the roar once silenced by disembodiment. Hot air hit his chest in wild puffs, unhindered growls riding her breathing. Her nails dug into his skin as she dragged them down his back, and he didn’t think her legs could wrap around him any tighter.
Spasms of fire jolted his body, and he never wanted it to end. He braced her shoulders and ground into her, intent on filling every inch.
Her husky cry flew through him in a rush, and he pressed harder. “Vincent!”
In a flash, the coil within him burst, and he growled his victory to the heavens. She joined in with guttural sounds, and Vincent understood all too well. He’d never experienced such fulfilment of love, openness, and acceptance.
Panting beside her ear, Vincent shook his head in disbelief. He had Elaina, his soul mate, his home. And for the first time in his life, he felt the weight and the freedom in such a blessing. “Gods, Elaina. I love you.”
He gazed at the amazing woman beneath him. Her hair, a mess of matted nets, tickled his face, and he kissed the beautiful sight.
The most wonderful woman in the Arched Spectrum of Realms lifted her hooded gaze to his. “And Gods, I love you, Vincent.”
Chapter Twelve
The white blossom trees along the hillside passed in a haze as Rhune flew toward the edge of town. Contraptions rambled on the black-topped streets, emitting obnoxious fumes. Terrans walking on the waysides didn’t seem to notice, but combined with the events that had just taken place; all he wanted to do was heave.
Dipping into a narrow alley, he found the shadows, and then left behind Smoke of Night travel. His back hit the brick wall as he expelled a deep breath and closed his eyes. Colhart will stand in as the God of Knowledge. Well, now, won’t that be a joy? And a little girl must mature and be trained to accomplish the task she began in her previous life as Lilith. He let his head fall to the side. But only after I manage to get her away from her fiery Terran mother and my only son who shoots venom at me with a simple look.
A low growl rumbled in his throat. “Sylisan, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear you’d planned things to end up this way all along.” He swiped his finger across his nose. Lilith will have to return to Meridian to be ready to face the lesser realms as a fully groomed enchantress in time, and that would leave Colhart to remove the manor on Midway Summit from shadow. You and I both know he lacks in intricate manipulation.
Rhune’s vivid imagination conjured the perfect pitch for Sylisan to speak to his mind—a brotherly bark, as if he rustled his hair, that grew tender with small rises and falls in the tempo as the answer entered Rhune’s thoughts.
“Regardless of Jamesuranton’s view of you, Rhuen-it, he will follow the Gods’ instructions to a tee, no matter how it will pain him to do so. Colhart will come through for you, though he might drag his feet and mope around. And Lilith will be at your side, fighting to fulfill all that is to come to pass.”
Rhune chuckled as he recalled the old nickname, and then his smile faded. He’d never hear it again, unless, of course, he visited more imaginary voices from the past.
With a nod, Rhune leaned away from the wall, shifting his neck to the side until it popped, and stretched his shoulders. Gathering his wits, he stepped from the alley and followed the little storefronts that lined the street. Shabby and gray, they brought back memories of his time in a similar realm; one whose inhabitants had started the whole mess he faced.
Twin pots of yellow and pink flowers decorated the stoop of Pappy’s Pub in invitation to passers-by. “I like the place for the name alone,” he said to no one in particular. “But the flowers cinch it for me.”
Rhune skipped up the steps and entered. The old eatery couldn’t have been wider than twenty feet, but looked four times as deep. Small round tables pocked the front end with what appeared to be original paintings lining the white walls. A narrow stage sat midway down the structure, and he tapped his fingers along the keyboard of a piano that had seen better days. The tinkle of tones broke the silence of the nearly empty space.
A man leaned to the side, peering around his shoulder from a table near the bar in the back. “Charlotte, looks like you got an early bird.”
Rhune tugged out a chair and sat as a woman walked from a door behind the counter.
“Well, aren’t we up and at it with the sun this morning,” she said with a smile. Her hand flicked to signify her other customer. “Let me get Jarrett here his beer. I’ll be right with you.”
Rhune glanced at Jarrett and cocked his brow. Four bottles already stood in front of the man. In fact, he looked as if he’d been there all night. Blond streaked hair fell over his eyes and stubble shadowed his jawline. The tailored suit he wore was wrinkled, and as he leaned back and flung his arm over the back of his chair, Rhune noticed the shirt had been unbuttoned three deep, and the tie hung like a loose noose.
Charlotte placed another beer beside the four empty bottles, and Jarrett tossed a bundle of currency onto her tray. She tilted her head, causing her brown curls to tumble off her shoulder. “Pick up that money, Jarrett.”
He took her free hand in his grip and palm-walked his way up her arm. “I’m not here to pick up money.” He rose, following the climb to her neck, and stepped behind her, gently messaging her shoulders. “When do you get off, beautiful?”
She looked at Rhune with a smirk. “Always the same bundle of money, the same climb, the same question. Why don’t I call you a cab, bad boy?”
Jarrett buried his face in her thick curls and hummed.
Rolling her eyes, she lightly thumped him on the head with her tray, and then leaned to call around him. “Pappy, Jarrett’s finally ready to go home.”
A voice came from a distance, and the tenor did indeed sound like it came from a dear old pappy. “A’right, doll.”
With a groan, Jarrett flumped back into his chair. “Don’t wanna go home. Don’t want to even know it’s there. Let me just stay here, Char. You keep me in beer; I’ll keep you in business.”
“Your liver will dissolve before I run out of beer,” she murmured as she stepped to Rhune’s side.
“Sandra’s gone,” grumbled Jarrett into the lip of his beer bottle.
Footsteps shuffled from behind the bar, and by the look of the man, he could only be Pappy. Kinky salt and pepper hair sprinkled the crown of his head and gave way to a tall brow. Crinkles edged the twinkle in his eyes as he looked at Jarrett and nodded. “For a man who lives the noble life, you look like hell, son.”
“Linda’s gone.”
“Yes, I know,” the elder said with a kind tone, and then looped the inebriated soul’s arm around his shoulder. “Up we go.”
“And my golden girls are up there on that hill with a Founder who has arms the size of…tree trunks.” His head lulled to the side as he looked at Rhune. “Like his.”
Pappy chuckled and grabbed Jarrett’s suit jacket from the back of his chair. “The car’s in the back. Let’s get you to that nice house of yours.”
As the two shuffled out, Charlotte turned to Rhune. “I haven’t seen you around here. Were you in town for that grand gathering of the faithful?”
He shook his head and held up his index finger. “Extenuating circumstance. But it was indeed a grand gathering, was it not? I understand the Lord Marshall has passed on to his next life. I take
it he will be missed by many?”
Charlotte’s cheek quirked against her heart-shaped face, and her head tilted. “Lord Marshall? You really aren’t from around here, are you?”
A chuckle rode his words, “Oh, my home is very far away.”
“He was the Senior Grand Marshal, and I don’t know how well he was liked, but his memorial is tomorrow. You planning to settle here in Shilo?”
“No, my visit won’t be for long.” He reached into his cloak and pinched the tip of one of his D-Lotuses. The long straw-like stem materialized as he withdrew it from the pocket. As he nipped the end, a silver mist pooled around his lips and serenity blanketed his mind. Concerns of his new assignment, and the conversation that had followed the news, melted to mere happenings. “Much to the joy of my hosts, I should say.”
He chuckled as he leaned back in his chair and peered at the beauty before him.
Charlotte’s eyes grew wide as she focused on the mist before Rhune’s face. Her chin trembled. “You’re one of them. A Founder, aren’t you?” Her nose flared as her words tumbled forth. “They’re the only ones who have trinkets like that. I know firsthand. I thought I was crazy, until all that happened at Shilo Park with Lord Dressen, and they revealed their true identities.” Something between a scoff and a snort sounded in her throat. “And to think someone from some grand place appointed by the Gods would honestly want a lasting relationship with me. No wonder Tom was always so vague.”
Rhune glanced at his D-Lotus and grimaced. When would he learn to be more careful in foreign dimensions? “I do apologize. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He lifted the slender instrument for her to view. “I brought this from my home. It’s a Lotus. Produces a fine mist that coats the sensitive tissues of the mouth and effects the pleasure senses in the brain.” His chest shook with his low chortle. “It allows me to relax without the repercussions our friend Jarrett experiences from the drink.”
Destiny (Cornerstone Deep Book 3) Page 6
