FALL (The Senses)

by Paterson, Cindy

  Jasper’s jade eyes were squinting, as if he was concentrating. “Asking Danielle a couple questions. Not liking her answers.” He looked at Xamien, shaking his head. “Damn man, he is going to kill you when he hears.”

  “What’s he talking about, Xamien?”

  Abby abruptly turned and growled at Delara. Delara tensed as the red dots in the center of Abby’s eyes blazed. Shit, the vamp was going to leap any second.

  “Damien had to be locked away too, Abby,” Jasper said.

  “Never ask Jasper to be a negotiator,” Delara muttered.

  “He never negotiates, Kitten. They’re dead before it gets to that. This is a new thing for him.” Xamien moved forward when Abby’s attention turned back to Jasper. Her head tilted to the side as if she was trying to remember something.

  Jasper spoke again. “Babe, Damien’s coming to see you.”

  The moment the words were out of his mouth, Delara reached Max. She cradled the girl in her arms, her hand applying pressure to the wound on her neck.

  “Jesus. Did you have to lie to her? Wow, Xamien, you’re friend’s an ass.”

  “I never lie, babe. Better get that straight now. Danielle is telling Damien that witch-vamp is here. Done deal.”

  “What?” Both Xamien and Delara shouted.

  “Why?” Delara asked.

  Xamien sighed. “Because Jasper doesn’t believe in prisoners. That’s why I never told him about Abby being here. Just didn’t think he’d be such an ass and tell Damien.”

  “Not true. I’m good with a willing female prisoner.”

  Delara snorted.

  Xamien stood in front of Abby, blocking her path to Max and Delara. But Abby was interested in what Jasper had to say. Xamien lifted Max up in his arms and they backed away.

  “Can you make it out without harming her?” Xamien asked Jasper.

  Xamien passed Max to Glunk and he disappeared down the stairs. “Max is safe Jasper. Get out.” Xamien grabbed Delara’s hand and they left the room to stand on the other side of the door.

  When Abby turned to look for Max on the floor, she went wild. Her eyes dilated, her nose scrunched up in anger and she screamed. Jasper used his telekinesis and sent a leather chair into her legs. Abby went crashing to the floor.

  “Vamp deserves to be killed or set free,” Jasper said as he strode out the door while Abby struggled to disentangle herself from the chair.

  The door slammed and Xamien turned a key just as her body banged against it. Delara could hear Abby’s snarling and fists pounding on the other side.

  “What the fuck?” Jasper said. “This is wrong. You get me. Wrong.”

  Xamien sighed. “It’s been months since she’s done anything. I was even considering taking the lock off the door. I just can’t understand why she’d attack Max.”

  “She’s a fuckin’ prisoner. The attitude comes with the territory.”

  Delara snagged Xamien’s hand and squeezed. “We have bigger problems, thanks to your friend here.”

  Jasper’s dark brows rose. “Suspect this was Waleron’s doing. He should’ve executed her. Guy needs to learn how to not let his emotions get in the way of what needs to be done.”

  Delara snorted.

  Jasper didn’t stop giving his opinions. “Guessing Damien will be causing a scene right about now. And he’ll be here in…oh, I’d say nine, ten hours if he can get a flight that quick.” Jasper shook his head at the door as Abby’s fists continued to pound. “So wrong.”

  Delara already didn’t like the guy. He’d just put all of them, Abby included, in a bad situation. “Wrong or not, Waleron will have your ass. And it wasn’t only him you know—Abby never wanted Damien to see her this way.”

  Jasper shrugged then left her and Xamien standing at the top of the stairs.

  “I’ll try to reach Waleron,” Xamien said. He waited several seconds before he finally spoke again. “I don’t expect you to share my bed, Kitten. I can control myself on occasion. Take any room you please.”

  “Xamien…”

  He reached for her and she let herself be pulled against his chest. She could hear his heart pounding, the whoosh-whoosh of his blood pumping. He stroked her head then kissed the top of it. “Get some sleep, Kitten. I need to check on Max.”

  As they walked down the stairs, the haunting sounds of Abby’s cries vibrated right through her soul. Was Jasper right?

  ****

  Danielle’s voice infiltrated his shields. “Oh god, Damien. She’s alive. Abby’s alive. Waleron took her to Spain. To Xamien’s.”

  He shook his head trying to clear the imaginary voice. He’d finally gone down the path of the insane and was hearing what he wanted—what his mind needed to be true.

  “Damien. Christ, Damien say something. Balen is on his way to the house. Don’t do anything. Wait for him, okay?”

  Damien swayed, and reached out to steady himself by flattening his palm against the wall. He tried to catch his breath, but he could only suck in short gasps of air, his chest rising and falling as he bowed his head and tried to wrap his mind around Danielle’s words. Sweet, tortured words that penetrated his body as if a spike had been driven through the top of his head to the soles of his feet. Words he knew were impossible. The venom of betrayal hissed through him.

  Abby? Alive? How was that possible? He watched her walk away from him, Waleron taking her to be executed. She was a vamp. Dangerous, they all told him. Why would Abby not come to him if she was alive? She’d never do that. Would she?

  Jesus. He banged his head into the wall, drywall crumbling to the floor as the conflicting emotions drilled into him. The relief and sudden, unexpected joy slammed against the disloyalty and the agony of knowing she’d been alive and never came to him. Never reached out to him.

  She was the reason he held on. Her life she’d lost, but still his stayed with him. He’s survived without this woman for nearly a year believing she was dead. Executed.

  “Nooooo!” His fists punched through the wall as a scream bellowed from his throat.

  The emotions broke him as he detonated into a million fragments of tortured man. His fingers raked at the fist holes as he ripped the wall apart with his bare hands, just like his soul had been ripped at for the last year. Uncontrollable desperation mixed with the urge to kill everyone who deceived him. He needed to see her again.

  “Damien? What the hell?” Jedrik said as he came running into the living room with Ryker close behind.

  “Stay back.” Ryker grabbed Jedrik’s arm.

  The front door burst open and Balen came charging into the room, he skidded to a stop. “Damien, we didn’t know.”

  The room started spinning and Damien grabbed his head in his hands. “Shut the fuck up.” He didn’t want to hear the lies. They’d kept him locked up for months afraid he’d kill himself, when really it had been to make certain Abby was hidden away from him.

  She lived. The woman who’d picked him up in the grocery store. The woman he’d fucked until the wee hours of the morning. The woman he’d tried to forget as he flew back home to Florida, but her sweet angelic face kept him awake at night. The woman he came back for to try and stop from changing into a vamp. The woman who had carried his child in her womb. Oh Jesus, the woman he’d fallen for so hard. The woman he loved. The woman his goddamn Scar loved.

  She was alive. She was fuckin’ alive.

  He met the Talde head on as his unrecognizable voice roared. “Why?”

  He failed to wait for an answer. Christ, he didn’t give a shit about their answers, they were all lies. He picked up the leather chair and threw it across the room, straight for the glass bay window.

  Glass shattered and crashed to the floor. He screamed a sound that slashed from his lungs as he stood blazing with unadulterated fury.

  “The jet is in the U.K. to pick up Galen, but I got you on a commercial flight,” Balen said. “If you leave now, you can make it.”

  Keir strode into the room, his face a mask of coldness
as he looked from Damien to the broken window. “Waleron will pay for that,” Keir said. He turned to Ryker. “Get him to the airport.”

  For a brief second Damien thought of the hunt for Tarek. They were already down Kilter, but Abby—Jesus Abby was alive.

  “We’ll deal,” Keir said. “This shit happening with Abby—you deal with it. Now.”

  Damien gave one nod then shoved Jedrik out of the way as he walked past. He heard Keir speak just before he threw open the front door.

  “Waleron has done it this time. And the bastard is unreachable.”

  ****

  Xamien shut the door behind him and walked quietly to the bed. He nodded to Glunk who was putting away the medicine and bandages. It would have been nice if one of them were a Healer, but tomorrow, if Max’s wound was bad, he’d contact Zurina to Trace here.

  He put his hand on Max’s forehead. “How are you sweetie?” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her temple. “Damn it Max, it shouldn’t have happened. I don’t know what set her off.” He placed her cool, frail hand in his. Christ, he’d hoped Abby would eventually help Max heal from her past. Now she’d just put a huge dent in it. Shot that one in the ass with a red bullseye, didn’t he?

  “Sir, Miss Delara is in the blue bedroom.” Glunk hesitated, his feet shifting on the hardwood floor.

  “Just say it, Glunk.” Xamien said as he pulled up a chair to sit beside the bed.

  “None of my business where Miss Delara sleeps.”

  Xamien grunted. “Don’t lie. You make everything your business.”

  Glunk shrugged then bowed and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  His hand lay in Max’s while he caressed her hair back from her face. He knew she was awake, felt her pulse beating too rapidly to be asleep. But she kept her eyes closed, and her face emotionless. He actually couldn’t ever recall seeing Max smile. Perhaps a hint of one on the odd occasion through the years, but never a full-out smile.

  He’d asked her numerous times for permission to Dreamstep with her, guide her through the nightmares she had several times a week. She refused and Xamien respected her decision. Xamien felt a tiny squeeze from her hand and smiled. He knew what she was saying.

  “You’re welcome Max.”

  Chapter 11

  “Where the hell is she?”

  Damien’s voice could be heard all the way upstairs. Delara threw on her jeans and raced out of her bedroom in time to see the ragged and ravaged man pushing open every door on the main floor.

  Xamien met her on the landing, his hair disheveled and still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms.

  “Xamien,” she gasped, trying to pull back.

  “Morning, Kitten.” He brushed a kiss to her forehead. “I missed you.” He put his finger to her lips when she went to explain. “No need, Kitten. I’m a Reflection, remember? You sort your shit out and then we’ll talk.”

  She looked at his rumpled clothes. “You didn’t sleep.”

  “Because I couldn’t have you to spoon with,” he teased.

  Before she could respond Damien yelled again. “Abby!”

  “Guess I better save the poor doors any further abuse from my brother.”

  Delara gasped. “What?” What the hell was he talking about? Damien was Xamien’s brother? The names were similar but she put it off to coincidence. “I…how…okay I don’t get it.”

  Xamien pinched her butt. “He hates me. Think you already know that part. Can’t imagine what he thinks of me now.”

  “How come we never knew?” That explained the animosity loud and clear.

  “He wanted it that way. But, right now, I better let him see Abby.” Xamien sauntered down the stairs as if nothing was amiss. “Damien, I assume you received Jasper’s unexpected message.”

  “Where the fuck is she? I swear to god, I’m going to crucify you.”

  “Well, best wait until I show you where she is.”

  Damien’s fingers clenched then his body tensed as if he was experiencing some sort of pain.

  Xamien looked up at Delara. “I’ll meet you for breakfast shortly.”

  As a Reflection the emotions pulsating from Damien had to be overwhelming, pushing like a bulldozer at Xamien’s shields. Even she could feel Damien drowning in rage, sorrow, fear, excitement. There were just too many emotions going through him. Delara knew there’d be some kind of repercussion at some point. “Be careful, Xamien.”

  Xamien raised his brows as he glanced up at her leaning over the balcony. “Not to worry Kitten, Damien has only tried to kill me once.”

  ****

  Damien followed Xamien up a stairwell from the kitchen. He felt as if he hadn’t taken a single breath since the moment he began to smell Abby’s distinctive scent in the house. It was different now, more vamp than witch, but still Abby. His Abby.

  His nerves vibrated as the click of the key unlocked her room. He didn’t even wait until Xamien pulled the key out before he was shoving the door open.

  “Damien, be caref—”

  He kicked the door closed in Xamien’s face.

  If it wasn’t for his need to see Abby, he’d have killed his brother the moment he arrived. But the words kept repeating in his mind, overtaking everything—she’s alive.

  Her scent was everywhere. Across the room on the back of leather couch was her bright-red sweater. It was the one she’d worn the day he’d met her. Her shoes were lying next to the window, the heels she wore to Liam’s bar that night he’d taken her to the cottage—in other words…into hell.

  God, Abby was alive. All this time. He still had trouble wrapping his mind around it after nine hours on the plane ripping his hair out.

  So much rage swirled within him since Danielle told him. On the plane, he’d spent half his time in the washroom throwing up and splashing cold water on his face to try and stop himself from losing control. One incident on a commercial flight and they’d be landing the plane before they reached Spain.

  His pulse leapt and he closed his eyes briefly when he heard movement in the next room.

  He had so much hatred for those that deceived him. They told him Abby was dead. Who “they” were he didn’t know at the moment. Damn it, he thought she was dead. The nightmares. The anguish and grieving. It was all for nothing.

  His Abby was alive. The woman that tore him apart and yet made him live.

  He remembered her smile. Her pain. There’d been so much pain. Months of her suffering as the vamp blood tried to make her Transition. The miscarriage. The nights when she went crazy with blood thirst trying to kill him. The mornings when she lay exhausted and still as death.

  Her begging him to end her life. The one moment he died inside as she walked away with Waleron. His begging. The sound of his voice screaming for her.

  The moment he knew he loved her. The moment he knew he’d lost her.

  “Abb.”

  A gasp. He recognized the lilt of her voice, even though it was a mere breath.

  Slender fingers curled around the doorframe. She had beautiful fingers. They rested on his chest so many times in that cottage. It was months of torture for them both. In the beginning he had wanted to leave her and her torment, yet he was unable to actually do it. And in return he got agony that stole his will to take his next breath every moment since she’d left him.

  A lock of red hair showed in the doorway.

  Then, ever so slowly, she came into view, her body hugging the door frame as if afraid to let it go lest she fall. No smile. No movement towards him. But her expression said all he needed. Her eyes were wide with recognition, her lips were parted as if she’d just taken a deep breath and then there was the glistening in her eyes. There were no more moments he could bare to be apart from her.

  “Christ, Abby.”

  A single tear slid down her cheek and he swore he heard it land on her bare neck with a light ping. Her nails dug into the doorframe so hard that the wood splintered into tiny sl
ivers and fell to the floor.

  “Abb.” It took him three strides to reach her. He pulled her away from the wall and wrapped her into his body; her cheek pressed against his chest while his hand stroked her head and he whispered soothing words over and over again.

  The relief to have her in his arms was too much to bear. He slowly brought them to the floor and leaned against the wall. Their legs entwined as he cradled her against him while she sobbed. He kissed the top of her hair then rested his chin on her head, smelling the sweet memorable scent of her as his body relived the time they spent together.

  All his emotions surfaced and he let go. He let go of the fear of never holding her again, the anguish of being denied her soft, caressing voice, the fury at having her taken from him just when he’d discovered her.

  He pulled her in tighter, lowered his head into her neck, and cried.

  Chapter 12

  “Where is Damien?”

  Delara dropped her coffee and the mug shattered on the ceramic floor. Xamien shoved his chair back and stood.

  Waleron appeared in the doorway, his eyes narrowed and cold as ice. She knew how it looked, her and Xamien sitting in a quaint nook having coffee together.

  “Waleron. I assume you’re here to settle the misunderstanding.”

  “Misunderstanding?” Waleron strode towards them until he was standing so close that if Delara reached out, she could touch him. “Your friend, an unpredictable rogue assassin Senses who has no qualms about killing anyone who pisses him off, blatantly told Danielle that Abby was alive and that she was to inform Damien.”

  “There was an incident and—” Delara began.

  Waleron cut her off. “Damn it Delara. No incident surpasses my word. What am I supposed to do now? Tell me. Because I am at a loss. Now, the whole Talde knows and if Trinity hears or the Wraiths—” He ran his hand over top of his shaved head. “She is considered a danger to Senses, humans, witches—she is a liability. She broke the law.”

  The Wraiths finding out Waleron never killed Abby would solidify them believing he was acting irrationally. “Then why did you let her live?” Delara asked.