FALL (The Senses)

by Paterson, Cindy

  His breath wafted across her neck as he leaned into her and placed his lips to her ear. “Delara,” he whispered. “Do not fight me on this.”

  She smothered the sob threatening to emerge and instead slammed her fist into her thigh and hissed with pain.

  Waleron grabbed her hand before she could do it again and locked it to her side.

  “Please. Please don’t,” she begged. She couldn’t endure falling into his arms only to have him coldly walk away again.

  “I never meant to hurt you, Maitagarri,” he murmured. His lips trailed blazes of heat along the curve of her neck while his arms, ever protective, encompassed her body like a cocoon.

  “I don’t want this,” she said, although it was a lie. She wanted him to be with her forever.

  His words whispered into her ear. “You do,” he said. “We both do.”

  He was right and she hated it, but the reality was that they were talking about different things. She wanted his love and his body was all he could give.

  “You are going to Xamien’s Talde,” he said in that steady, unaffected voice and then released her.

  She pivoted and without a single hesitation, punched him in the jaw.

  He grunted, but remained unmoving except to open and close his mouth three times as if to make certain it wasn’t dislocated.

  If he forced the issue, she’d escape and forgo going home to find Tarek on her own. She suspected Waleron would find her regardless, so she’d merely have to be ready for him. She used her ace card. “I will run. You won’t see me again.” He knew damn well she could do it. She had many times before and was pretty good at disappearing.

  His jaw clenched and unclenched several times as if trying to unlock it. Finally, he said, “If he so much as appears in the same neighborhood—” He paused as if needing a moment to keep his own voice contained. “I will forcibly remove you to Europe and send Tarek to his grave. Is that clear?”

  Delara nodded. Yeah, she expected as much. Tarek was on everyone’s shit list and knowing her best friend Jedrik, he’d be sticking to her like glue when she went back to Toronto. “And you will come to the Talde house, not Danielle’s gallery.”

  “What?” Delara asked. The apartment above Danielle’s art gallery was where she always stayed. It was private, away from the other Senses in her Talde. She needed distance from them, a place where she could be alone. She didn’t care to admit it was because she could cut there. Waleron of all people should understand; he lived alone. No one even knew where his home was.

  “This is my only compromise.” He tossed her knife onto the end of the bed and walked to the door.

  “Fuck you!” Delara picked up her mud-encrusted boot and flung it at his head sending dried flakes of swamp mud in every direction.

  He raised his right hand and before the boot reached him, it stopped in midair and dropped to the floor with a loud thud. “Bandage your leg.”

  She growled and he closed the shack door behind him.

  Chapter 2

  Tarek Rises in 24 hours

  Delara was still fuming at having her shack compromised by Waleron. Actually, it wasn’t that. It was more how Waleron found her. Him seeing her greatest weakness was like a shot in the gut and then some.

  She flew back to Toronto via West Jet, arriving at Pearson airport at four o’clock in the afternoon. She hadn’t expected anyone to meet her since she hadn’t contacted anyone.

  “Sassy! Over here.”

  Delara raised her brows, surprised to see Jedrik striding towards her, his blond playful curls dancing around his ears. Waleron must have told Jedrik she was flying back today.

  Jedrik wore a pair of worn blue jeans and a dashing black canvas coat while sporting his usual cocky grin. Without hesitation, he picked her up and swung her around, planting a kiss on both cheeks.

  “Public displays of affection are against the law in some countries,” Delara said. Jedrik had no qualms about displaying anything, least of all his charisma. He set her down and she ruffled his hair. “Good to see you too, Arrow.”

  “So, what was in New Orleans?”

  Her getaway place was no longer a getaway. “Not much.”

  “I hate when you take off, Delar. Can’t you at least send me a text to let me know how you are? I mean, frig, I missed you.”

  “Missed you too Arrow. Hear from Rayne?” Delara last talked to her a month ago and she and Kilter planned on returning soon so the baby would be born here. Rayne and Kilter had spent the last seven months in St. Thomas. After recovering from anorexia and nearly being killed by Jasmine, the Lilac who still wants Waleron back in her webs, Rayne needed time away. Looked like extended vacations ran in the family.

  “Yep, better than that. I flew out there a week ago for a few days in the sun. Mr. Overprotective won’t let her do anything. And man is she big.”

  Kilter had always been an overbearing, crude asshole, but with Rayne…well Kilter didn’t act like his nicknames Killer and off-Kilter. “Everything okay with you?” Delara asked.

  “Yeah sure. Unlike you,” Jedrik said.

  She smacked his arm. “I’m great.”

  Jedrik snorted. “Tarek rises tomorrow. Waleron’s been gone for months searching for you, arrives back from god knows where—my guess is New Orleans—and is pissed, but no longer the ice machine that’s existed since you left. Could have sensed some fear in there if you ask me, but you’re not, so I’ll just say he finally looks semi-normal. Well as normal for Waleron as he can be.” Jedrik glanced her way, his boyish grin having vanished. “And you? Well, you have dark circles under your eyes and you’re pinching your thighs. Great? Frig, Sass. Why not shoot the crap a little higher.”

  Jedrik put his ticket in the green parking box and then slid ten bucks in the machine. “Jesus H. Christ. I was here fifteen minutes! Thieves.” He kicked the stand with his foot and stalked into the parking garage towards his black BMW. “Where to, Delar? Keir’s? Or how about a beer at the Dew?” He unlocked the doors and slid onto the leather seat. He started the car then reeved the engine before peeling out of the parking spot.

  “I’m staying at the gallery,” Delara said. “And I don’t want to hear any argument out of you, Arrow.” It was quaint, quiet and she didn’t have the Talde breathing down her neck.

  That certainly got his attention. He slammed on the brakes and the car behind them skidded then blew its horn steadily. She could hear the guy shouting profanity through the window. Here we go, she thought. Mr. big brother was going to blow his top. It was rare, but when he did it, he did it with flying colors.

  “Frig. Frig!” He liked to repeat his words when pissed. “You’re really trying to piss him off aren’t you?” So Waleron had told Jedrik that he wanted her at the Talde house. “You’ve got to be shittin’ me. Frig Sass, for once, listen to Waleron. Tarek nearly killed you. He wanted to kill you. He probably wants to now more than ever. Don’t you recall the testimony you gave the council? You put him in Rest for twenty years. Twenty years, Sass. He’s going to be pissed. No, I won’t drop you at the gallery. You’re not getting your way this time.”

  “Tarek did love me, Jedrik. He wasn’t always abusive.”

  “Obsessive love. That’s different, it’s not real.”

  A frumpy, bald man came to the window and knocked. Jedrik grinned and waved, then pressed his foot on the accelerator and sped out of the parking garage.

  Delara adjusted the fan so the heat was blowing on her face then leaned back and closed her eyes. “I need to confront Tarek, okay. Then,” she paused, “I need to settle shit with Waleron.”

  “Not that this will do you any good, but he was a real prick to be around since you left. Actually, we rarely saw him, but when we did, well the attitude was cold and expressionless.”

  That stupid Pez dispenser. He is going to kill himself with that mind-numbing shit.

  “So, what went down when he found you in New Orleans?”

  Oh, he caught me cutting. Not much really. Just
another day in Delara’s life. “He’s unhappy with Tarek rising,” Jedrik made a face that said duh. “…and he suggested—”

  “Ah, suggested?” Jedrik laughed.

  “Fine. He insisted I go to Europe. To stay with Xamien.”

  “Bah.” Jedrik laughed-shouted awkwardly.

  Silence.

  Jedrik glanced over at her and she saw the sudden seriousness in his eyes. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. Okay, what was up? She attempted to get into his mind and read his thoughts, but Jedrik was good at blocking and he had a steel shield up.

  “Listen Sass, I can’t go against him this time. He’s right. Tarek is unstable and none of us knows how he will react when he rises.”

  Shit. She should’ve known Jedrik wasn’t going to let her stay alone at the gallery.

  There no way was she going to live in fear. No, she’d left the Talde last year to find someone—herself. She’d find a way to end this. End Tarek. The woman she’d lost was coming back fighting. The question was who she would be fighting.

  ****

  Jedrik failed to inform her that Damien and Ryker were out of the sub-basement. Talk about pissed off testosterone alert. How was she supposed to live in the Talde house with a bunch of raging male Rottweilers? She’d been back an hour and already she couldn’t wait to leave.

  She walked down the hallway towards the front door, needing some fresh air. Her mind was contemplating how she’d get to Tarek without alerting the Senses when she bumped into a solid chest coming out of the bathroom. “Crap. Sorry...” She looked up and her mouth dropped open. “Xamien.” At least six foot five he towered over her five foot three stature, making her have to crane her neck in order to see his face. She was used to it.

  His shoulders were broad and arms well-muscled, although not like a body builder’s, just enough to tell her that he could crush a garbage can in two seconds flat. And she’d seen it; the guy was an audacious dominant. He also could make her body sing with undeniable need. Already she was getting hot just thinking of his hands on her. Not good.

  When she finally finished perusing the body she hadn’t seen in months, she glanced up at his face, meeting obsidian eyes that slanted downwards in the corners and held an abundance of lashes. Handsome with an exotic flavor, she’d always thought. His nose was crooked. Oh not enough to say it deterred from his good looks, just enough to give it character. She’d been trying to get out of him for years how it got broken.

  He reached forward, while she was busy contemplating whether or not to jump him or to rebuke him for being here, and tweaked the tip of her nose with his finger. “Kitten,” he said. “How was your stay in New Orleans?”

  She lowered her voice. “What the hell are you doing here?” God, this was a disaster.

  He slipped his arm around her waist and dragged her up against him. “You look hot when you’re flustered.”

  He claimed her mouth, his lips roaming over hers with a force that made her body remember all the things he’d done to her over the years. “You need to visit me more often, Kitten.” He let her go, bowed his head graciously and slipped past her, disappearing into the library.

  Xamien was here? Crap, Xamien was here. Waleron brought him here instead of her going there. Xamien didn’t even look remotely concerned about it. What was she thinking; Xamien never got embarrassed and sure as hell didn’t experience anxiety. He’d made it clear that he couldn’t care less if Waleron knew about their occasional liaisons.

  Jedrik came up beside her. “Where you going?”

  “Escape from the overabundance of male hormones.” Well, she was. Now she was escaping Xamien. She needed to get her thoughts in order. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t leaving my cage. Merely need some fresh air.”

  He pointed to the empty corridor in the house. “You meet Xamien? You must have just passed him. He arrived last week.” Even Jedrik didn’t know she went to Spain to see Xamien. “That guy is a powerhouse. Fearless son of a bitch. Real cool, though. Pretty laid back considering—”

  Delara interrupted, “Why is he here, Arrow?”

  Jedrik looked uncomfortable, broad forehead scrunched with thin lines. “Umm, what’s he doing here?”

  “Yes Arrow, what’s he doing here?”

  He avoided her stare and shifted his feet. “Frig Sass, I wanted to tell you but…Waleron asked him to come and take you to Spain but—”

  Jesus. Waleron lied to her. He let her come home and then was shipping her off to Spain anyway. Xamien should’ve told her. Well, not that he could reach her in New Orleans, but still he shouldn’t have come here. She’d confided in him when she secretly visited him several months ago; he knew she wanted to go after Tarek. “Frig, Sass. Stop and—”

  “No way.”

  No. Fuck no. She wanted her revenge. No, she needed it damn it. Neither Waleron nor Xamien were going to steal that from her. Waleron was breaking his word, the bastard. Delara turned on her heel and stormed back towards the library.

  “Whoa, Sass!” Jedrik yelled. “Frig, wait up.”

  Jedrik trailed after her, his long strides easily keeping pace. “Christ, don’t go in there. Xamien—I so don’t want to get on his bad side. If you could wait...” His words trailed off as she threw open the study door.

  With her hands on her hips, stance erect, and head tilted at an arrogant angle, she perused the elegant room. Three gazes turned to her. Silence. Welcome to the boys club, she thought.

  Xamien sat casually in a high-backed leather chair, legs outstretched, ankles crossed, and a glass filled with clear liquid sitting on the chair’s arm, his hand curled around it. Keir sat behind his desk, feet propped up on the oak surface with a glass of…she sniffed the air…scotch, within arm’s reach. Damien stood in the corner, the bottle of scotch in hand, his eyes pensive and cold. After months in solitary, Damien had returned to them and appeared semi-sane. She wondered what he’d do if he knew the truth about Abby. That the supposed-to-be-dead witch he still loved was alive and well.

  Damien’s eyes darted towards her and his body stiffened. Christ, she’d have to be careful around him. His was obviously scanning thoughts. Did he suspect that Abby was alive?

  She turned her full attention to Xamien and noticed he remained the same as when she entered the room, a welcoming grin with scintillating eyes that appeared to know every thought that was rushing through her brain. Actually, he did. They suspected it was from the mindweaving that allowed him to so easily get into her thoughts. It was a welcome discovery for Delara when they began sleeping together. After all, what woman doesn’t want a man to know exactly what she needs without having to voice the words?

  “Stop it, Kitten. I need some sort of control and you’re awakening something that has no business here.”

  “Damn right, it has no business here. I don’t want anyone to know about us.”

  “Everyone is looking at you, Kitten. Better say something.”

  “Was I going to be informed of this little arrangement?”

  Xamien set his drink aside on the table next to him and, like an agile cat waking from an afternoon nap, he came to his feet. Damn, he was sexy and the arrogant bastard knew it. He also knew what he was doing by running his hand through his hair like that. He knew she loved that. With the grace of a King, he bowed his head with a slight bend at the waist. “My deepest apologizes. I did not introduce myself. You may have forgotten our meeting many years ago. Xamien, at your service.” He calmly sat again.

  She snorted. God, he sucked at lying. “How about you take your gallant manners and ship them and yourself back to Spain.” With a slight adjustment of her stance, she shifted her weight to cock her hip.

  “Gallant manners? You never complained about my manners when I so gallantly tied you up and made you beg for release.”

  Jesus. Her body was reacting to his words despite how mad she was. “I’m staying here.”

  “You are?” Jedrik’s voice raised a pitch.

  “Yes.”<
br />
  Damien coughed then took a swig from the bottle. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked like he’d lost weight by the way his cheekbones were more defined than before, although he’d still gained a good twenty pounds of muscle from his workouts. The guy was obviously running himself into the ground. More than anything she wanted to tell him Abby was doing okay, that she’d seen her. But neither Abby nor Waleron wanted that. She noticed Damien watching her carefully, his stance erect, eyes intense. The bottle shattered in his grasp and shards of glass mixed with amber liquid fell to the floor.

  “Don’t even think about her. He is scanning us constantly. He won’t be able to pick up words, but he’ll pick up on her name crossing your mind. Now, about you staying…” Xamien raised his brows, square jaw relaxed. “Indeed? Perhaps you should take that up with—”

  She cut him off with an abrupt slice through the air with her hand. “I’m not leaving.”

  “Kitten, don’t argue. I know you need revenge, but Waleron isn’t going to allow it. Come to Spain with me. I will look after all your…needs.”

  “Damn it, Xamien. Stop.”

  “Delar, maybe you need to think about this?” Jedrik whispered, leaning close to her and lightly touching her sleeve.

  “Fine, but the next time you come it will be painful.” Xamien gave a diminutive nod. “I will speak with Waleron.”

  He knew she loved the physical pain of their sex interludes. It stopped the cutting, at least for a time. “You will?” Delara and Jedrik said at the same time.

  “Listen Kitten, I don’t know Waleron very well. Met him a couple times. But if you want to stay here, I’ll talk to him.”