Apocalypse the Blossoming (The Power of Twelve Book 2)

by Miranda Martin

  Alaric does the same, though his lips are fuller and drier, creating an entirely different sensation. The two of them walk away without another word, leaving Tynan and me alone.

  We stare at each other across the short distance between the couch I’m on and the chair he’s in. His eyes dance with delight. Our energies meld in the silence, and I probe at him with mine. Suddenly he opens himself to me, inviting me in.

  It’s the first time I’ve felt him fully as himself. Ancient beyond words, strong, certain, and yet bored and plagued by his own doubts. Seeing beyond the exterior, I find the person behind the front, and a bond forms between the two of us, because in seeing him he sees me as I am too.

  He sees my revulsion at the classist system of the Bunkers, but as he does I see his indifference to it. I understand it truly isn’t something he or the other Dragons created, but what man does to man. It doesn’t stem from them, but they don’t do anything to right it. My concern with it is a new thought to this ancient creature and flies in the face of his general disdain.

  “Aviella,” Tynan says, pulling back from the connection between us, but the line remains, albeit partially closed.

  “Tynan,” I say, staring into his eyes.

  I’m seeing him in a new light than before. Things will never be the same.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Tynan

  Slamming my walls back in place, I try to shut her out but only partially succeed. She’s powerful, more powerful than anything I’ve encountered in a very long time.

  My brothers and I have fought and hunted across the ages, and never has any creature been so vexing and fascinating at the same time. She doesn’t know it, that much is obvious. She has no idea her true potential.

  She is intoxicating. A heady drink that must be savored, taken slowly for too much too fast could be the end of me. I’m caught in her gravity and I know it. Nothing will ever be the same again. It can’t be. She has changed it all.

  My decision is made, for better or worse, we will help her. The Horsemen aiding a mortal girl. I never would have thought it but in her, maybe I can find purpose once again. My role in this world was over. Having a reason, any reason, is better than how we’ve been living.

  I feel the shift in the universe as I make the decision.

  “You should rest,” I say.

  Aviella nods, biting her lower lip. My cock stirs, but now is not the time for such pleasures as her flesh will give. There is work to be done, and that must come first.

  “I’ll have you escorted to your quarters,” I say, closing the door on my desire for now.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “I don’t care, it all sucks,” I say, shoving the last of my meager possessions into my backpack.

  “I know,” Efram says. “I don’t like it either.”

  Looking up, I glare then shake my head and plop down on the bed. Efram sits next to me, his hands in his lap, keeping a small space between us. That space might as well be a million miles. Everything is changing, again.

  “I hate change,” I pout.

  I’ve earned it; this sucks. I also hate pouting, but damn it when can I catch a break? Rafe and Nathaniel gone, now Silas wants me to go with him and the Dragons, but Efram has to remain here. Ugh, this is terrible.

  “I know,” he says, his hand moving towards my leg, but then he pulls it back without touching me.

  What the hell, Efram? Why the distance?

  “Out with it,” I say, twisting around so I’m facing him.

  “What?” he asks, looking confused, but I see past that mask.

  He knows what I’m talking about. Instead of answering him, I stare him down. He looks away first, and I smile. Point for me.

  “Say it,” I demand.

  “I…” he stops, staring at the floor and obviously searching for the words. I understand that, so I wait him out, letting him figure it out. “I don’t know where we… stand.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  He raises his eyes and meets mine. Passion burns in them, white-hot desire, but more than that I see pain.

  “Now that you’ve… the Dragons,” he says, skipping over saying the uncomfortable parts.

  “Oh, my God!” I exclaim, slapping his arm.

  “What?” he asks, confusion replacing the desire.

  “Are you serious?” I ask. “Even if I did, why does that have to affect us?”

  “It’s… I…” he shakes his head. “Look, it’s fine. You’re a grown woman, I don’t own you, and I have no claim on you. You have to make your decisions, and I have to respect that.”

  “What if I don’t want to decide?” I ask.

  “Aviella, you have to, eventually,” he says, shaking his head.

  “Do I?” I counter.

  Efram stops, frowning, then he looks away.

  “This won’t be for long, I’ll catch up to you once I’m finished,” he says, pointedly changing the subject.

  I don’t push. This is exactly why I can’t choose. If I pick one, then things will fall apart with the others. I want them all. I don’t want things to change between us. How could I pick one when they’re all so special, when each one is unique? Each of them has a place in my heart. Shaking my head, I stand up and grab the bag, shoving the last items in, then slinging it over my shoulder.

  “I should go,” I say.

  “Yeah,” he agrees, rising to his feet.

  We’re inches apart. His presence is close, but comfortable. My feelings for him are like a sore tooth, throbbing and raw, but I can’t leave it alone. He looks down into my eyes, and an urge grips me. Screw it.

  Rising on my toes, I plant my lips on his. He stiffens, lips forming a hard line, but I ignore his reaction and shove my tongue into his mouth. His arms enclose me, his mouth responding to mine. His cock stiffens and digs into my abdomen. That’s more like it. Our kiss continues as his hands roam down my back and cup my ass. Hooking my arms around his neck, I hold him close and tight. If we’re going to be apart, I want him to have something solid to remember me by.

  My body wants more, so much more, I’ve been dancing this edge forever and still haven’t given over to it, but now isn’t the time either. At last our need for air forces us apart. His eyes burn like twin coals, hot with desire and need. He swallows hard, and one hand goes to his lips with a gentle touch. He steps back, but I see a shiver before he does.

  “You won’t forget me?” I ask, softly.

  “Never,” he says, his voice deep and husky.

  “Good,” I say, a tear slipping down my cheek. “I can’t do this without you. Whatever in the hell this is.”

  He wipes the tear with his thumb, then his hand is cupping my cheek. My heart breaks inside as fear grips me. Fear I won’t see him again, fear I won’t see any of them again. That I’ll make the wrong move, or say the wrong thing, or lose control of my powers at the wrong moment. That I’ll screw it all up, somehow, because that’s what I’m infinitely good at doing.

  “I’m yours,” he whispers. “Always.”

  Unable to speak, I nod and place my hand over his on my cheek, nuzzling into him. When at last we part, we share one last, much more chaste, kiss. I watch him walking away until I can’t see him anymore, then I follow the directions I was given to meet Silas and the Dragons.

  “The texts are ancient,” Shen says. “Even by your standards.”

  He eyes Silas, who smiles and shrugs.

  “Good God! I get it, they’re really old. You’ve been saying that and little else for an hour now. Do they tell us anything new?” I cry out in exasperation.

  “Yes,” Alaric says.

  I glare at him, waiting for him to say something, anything.

  “This situation is new,” Tynan says. “Aviella, you have to understand, we’re in unknown ground here.”

  “I’ve spent my entire life in unknown ground!” I shout. “Does it matter? No. It’s called life, you never know what’s going to happen next.”

  “That
is not our way,” Shen says.

  “Who cares!” I throw my hands up whirling on him. “What’s the information? What do we know now? Can we get to the point, please?”

  “Aviella, calm and control are called for,” Silas says.

  “You shut up,” I say, wagging a finger at him. “You’re an observer in this. They’re pissing me off, and I don’t have time to sit around waiting while they drag their feet. Either they know something, or they don’t. If not, fine, but let’s move on to the next thing!”

  “Aviella—” Alaric says.

  “Nope, not going to hear it,” I say, holding my hand up palm facing him. “My Dad is out there, and he’s hurt. You all saw it, so did I. You all said you’d help, now out with it.”

  “You’re tied to a blood-line that is… ancient,” Tynan says.

  He stops looking at the others.

  “Yeah?” I prompt. He shakes his head, clears his throat, then gestures futilely. “Well?”

  “Our fates are tied to you,” Shen picks up.

  “Destiny, yours, ours, they’re intertwined in ways we never expected,” Alaric continues.

  “The symbols told you all that?” I ask.

  “Yes,” Tynan says, picking up the conversation again.

  “Okay great, what about my Dad? Any luck locating him?” I ask.

  “You don’t understand,” Alaric says.

  “What we’re trying to tell you,” Shen continues.

  “We have uncovered your fate, why you’re here,” Tynan says.

  “And how it affects us,” Alaric says.

  “Okay, I really hate it when you guys talk like you have one brain or something. Can you just… not?” I ask, feeling out of sorts with it. They’re like some kind of horrid triplets, though they look nothing alike.

  They look at each other, then shrug, again as one.

  “Okay,” Tynan agrees.

  I stare at each of them, waiting for one of them to pick the conversation back up, but no one says a word.

  “Oh seriously? Come on!” I exclaim.

  “You’re here to save the world, Aviella,” Tynan says. “Figuratively and literally.”

  My stomach drops to the floor, and a hysterical urge to laugh comes over me. A titter slips out. Yeah, a freaking titter. I’m not holding that against myself because a bomb has been dropped on me.

  “Right,” I laugh. “Save the world. Me. The outcast. The orphan.”

  The laughter becomes higher pitched and takes on a more maniacal aspect. The Dragons look at each other, unsure what to make of my hysterics. That’s okay, I don’t know either. It’s insane, but then inside something resonates, and it feels right. Which must mean that I’m nuts, totally off the deep end. Right? What sane person thinks the fate of the world rests on their shoulders? How about, not a damn one. Right, so either I’m insane or he is. I’m voting on him. What do you do with an insane Dragon Horseman of the Apocalypse?

  “Aviella,” Silas says, placing a hand on my arm.

  Warmth flows into me from that point of contact, and I latch onto it like a sailor clinging to the rail in a tempest.

  “It’s a joke, right?” I ask, the urge to throw myself into the yawning black pit inside my mind and blow this Popsicle stand is almost more than I can resist.

  “It’s not a joke,” Shen says.

  “Our fate is tied to you,” Tynan says. “We will help you. We must.”

  Pulling myself mentally off the edge of the black void I’m looking into, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “I have to save my Dad,” I say. “Everything else can go hang. He’s my priority.”

  “We expected as much,” Tynan says. “We will help you but for his safety, we must first assure yours.”

  “From what? What is it that’s after me? Where is my Dad? What do we do now?” The questions, the ones I’ve been holding back, pour out of me in a flood.

  “Darkness,” Shen says. “Dark forces that like the status quo—they’re winning. Claiming souls and sowing chaos.”

  “Isn’t that what you guys do, pretty much by definition?” I ask.

  “No, nowhere near it,” Tynan answers.

  They don’t seem offended by my jab, which is probably good. Pissing off the Horsemen could be a monumentally stupid mistake right now. I’m not sure I care—I’m so sick of being ‘special.’ I want my Dad. I have to save him.

  “Trust us,” Shen says.

  “We’re working as fast as we can to uncover as much information as we can about your role in the end times. As fast as we can.”

  “Great,” I say, shaking my head. “Perfect, lovely! What about my Dad?”

  They look at each other, but no one has an answer. Fine. If it’s on me then it’s on me. I’ll figure out my own plan, and they can do their best to keep up. I don’t know who or what has him, but they better get ready. I’m coming, and I’m bringing hell with me.

  Continue the Power of Twelve series in book three, Apocalypse the Believer

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  About the Author

  USA Today Bestselling Author of fantasy and scifi romance, Miranda Martin's books feature larger than life heroes with out-of-this-world anatomy and smart heroines destined to save the world. As a little girl she would sneak off with her nose in a book, dreaming of magical realms. Today she brings those fantasies to life and adores every fan who chooses to live in them for a while.

  She was born and raised in southern Virginia, but as a veteran she's traveled to places like Korea, Hawaii and good 'ole Texas. Now she's settled in Kansas, the heart of America, with her husband and daughters. Her favorite animals are dragons, unicorns, and cats. If she's not writing, you can still find her tucked away somewhere with a warm blanket and her nose in a book.

  Get in touch!

  mirandamartinromance.com

  miranda@mirandamartinromance.com