Waleron met Max’s eyes as she stood beside him. Her fingers rested gently on his arm. She jerked her gaze to his Scar and her eyes narrowed while her grip tightened. He felt the snake slither back to its resting place.
Max dropped her hand from him, face expressionless and unstrained. He’d felt her power, knew what she was the moment she touched him. A Healer with the gift of healing Scars.
She stepped away and he stood.
“Zurina took Delara from the Realm. Tarek now has her.” His voice was controlled, but the words made him want to vomit.
Glunk still held the grimoire. It was ancient, covered in dust and the leather casing was cracked along the seams. “Edan said Zurina was responsible. Xamien went to search for her. I’ve been attempting to contact Delara, but it’s been hours and nothing. I cannot reach her telepathically, but,” he patted the book, “I thought I’d be able to with a spell.”
Waleron glanced briefly at the grimoire’s spine—Dreamstepping. “Do it.” She wasn’t dead. He’d know if she was and nothing in him said she no longer breathed.
“I tried. I cannot connect with her.” Waleron noticed Glunk glance at Max. Her eyes held his for several seconds then turned to Waleron. He was taken aback by her unflinching stare. Her body language read submission, yet nothing in this woman staring back at him was fearful.
“It appears sir, the link isn’t strong enough,” Max said, her voice steady and her eyes unwavering. “It must be Xamien who does it.”
Glunk continued, “They’ve shared mindweaving before, their link will be strong enough no matter where she is.”
“And if she’s dead already?” The words ripped apart his vocal chords, but he tried to focus. Control. Don’t give up. Never give up on her. But he had—he’d given up on them. He’d pushed her away. Hurt her. He’d kept her on a long leash, but never unclipped it, just as Anstice once told him. All because he was afraid she’d run away if she saw what he’d become. The excuse that he would hurt her was just that. It kept her at a distance. Now the distance was so great that he may never be able to get her back. God, what had he done? He’d destroyed them. He’d destroyed her.
He strode towards Glunk.
Glunk straightened. “When I tried to reach her there was an ominous cloud over her.” He dropped the book on the desk and flipped through pages until he came to one. He tapped his finger. “It says right here. ‘Reaching another in an unconscious state through a dark cloud of mist. Do not go further or you will join them in the state of lifelessness.’” Waleron put his hand flat on the desk and leaned over, reading the words while Glunk explained. “I pushed further to try and reach her, but...” Glunk raised his head. “I know I felt the cloud, sir. It was brief, maybe a second or two, but if she were dead—you cannot reach a dead person in dreamstepping.”
The possibility. The hope. How reliable was dreamstepping? “What do you need?”
“Xamien. And he will need as much of her as possible. Any personal effects and perhaps others who are close to her.”
“Then you will fly to Toronto immediately.”
Glunk raised his brows and the right side of his mouth lifted in a mischievous smirk. “No worries, sir. I will merely Trace there.”
Before Waleron had the chance to react to Glunk’s revelation, he was gone is a swirl of red mist. Waleron turned to Max. “I will assume Xamien knows about Glunk’s ability to Trace?”
Max nodded.
“Is there anything else I should be aware of?”
“Sir, you will have to ask Xamien that question when he returns.”
He stared at her, unable to take his eyes away from the woman that refused to cower under his relentless gaze.
Her chin rose. “Sir, Delara is a survivor.” She nodded to the Scar. “He hurts. Just as you do. Give him what he wants.”
“What does that mean?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Max’s eyes shone for a brief second. “He wants her.” Max strode from the library.
Delara? But his Scar fed off his rage. That is how he lived. He kept it calm with pills, but it…it wanted her? Waleron stared for a moment at the empty space where Max had been then Traced.
****
Jedrik waited impatiently, pacing the length of Keir’s living room. Xamien had called, explained what went down in the Realm and said that he’d be back after he searched a few more locations. Zurina likely Traced Delara from the Realm—something she could only do because they were both was in the Realm—so Delara had to be in a place Zurina had been before.
Balen and Danielle stood by the door with their hands interlinked while Ryker stood close to the kitchen, his back against the doorframe, his ankles crossed. He held his knife in hand and was running his thumb along the blade.
Anstice stood with Keir who was speaking quietly with his brother Galen by the mantel. Galen gave an abrupt nod then ran upstairs, more than likely trying to get some kind of lead through that computer of his.
Suddenly Jedrik stopped pacing and his eyes darted to the front door as a man appeared then a few seconds later Waleron.
The guy was short and stocky with a balding head and a bulbous nose. Not like Senses which were usually tall and good-looking, although by the way he strode into the room, bowing his head to each of them in turn, the guy was self-assured like one.
Jedrik was about to demand to know who the devil this guy was when the stranger addressed them. “I’m Glunk. Xamien’s personal assistant.”
He’s got to be kidding. “Personal assistant that can Trace? Who the frig are you?” Jedrik asked. “Waleron, what the hell?”
When Jedrik looked at his Taldeburu he immediately noticed his pale complexion. Waleron looked sick. Did he take too many of his pills? Why was this Glunk guy addressing them instead of Waleron? Where the hell was Delara, damn it? They were standing around talking when they should be out searching for her like Xamien was.
Glunk met Jedrik’s eyes and Jedrik immediately felt the calm energy seeping from Glunk’s skin into his own pores. His heated rage slowly simmered and his heart began to pump rhythmic and slow again.
Glunk was definitely a Senses and a damn powerful one. Jedrik guessed what Glunk used on him was a Reflection’s ability to manipulate emotions. A Reflection would normally smother the emotion. What Glunk did made Jedrik feel like he was being stripped of one emotion and being slowly fed another. Like Rayne’s ability. Delara and Waleron’s daughter stole people’s emotions, but didn’t give new ones back. Instead she kept taking the emotions until the person died.
“I believe we will be able to reach Delara through dreamstepping,” Glunk said. “Where’s Xamien?”
“Dreamstepping?” Keir asked with surprise. “Dangerous and complicated. Not really liking the risk.”
Keir had Dreamstepped with Anstice when she’d first learned about the Senses. She’d been freaking out about the concept of them existing, so they put her in DS and Keir had Dreamstepped with her. In the dream world Keir could control the images and manipulate Anstice’s emotions by changing the vision and how she felt. But, if you died in dreamstepping, you died in real life and vice versa. A person could be lost in the abyss of dreams and never be found again. Xamien had to be able to have complete control over his dreams and over Delara’s.
Jedrik noticed Glunk was completely at ease around them. There was effortlessness and subtle confidence in his movements, like he was unconcerned about the pressing issue. Or Glunk was so overly confident that he had no doubts Delara would be found unharmed.
“Xamien’s mother is a witch. She practiced dreamstepping with him numerous times while he was growing up,” Glunk said.
Keir rested his hand on the back of Anstice’s neck. “Delara’s location is off the grid. Won’t be easy. She can’t be woken if shit goes down.”
Glunk shrugged. “Nothing worthwhile is easy. Now, where is he?”
“Here,” Xamien said striding into the living room from a cloud of mist in the foyer. “I searched every p
lace I could think of. There is no sign of Zurina, Tarek, or Delara. The Wraiths are combing the land, but it’s too vast. It will take too long.” Jedrik saw the tension in both Taldeburu’s; they looked as if they were going to combust at any second. He felt like he was going to join them.
“Zurina called me.” Waleron’s words sounded strained. “She Traced Delara to Tarek. She claims he will…” Jedrik saw him swallow a few times as if he was having trouble forming words, “make her suffer. Then kill her.”
Jedrik collapsed onto the couch, his head in his hands. “Friggin’ hell. Jesus.”
Xamien shook his head. “I can reach her. We’ve mind weaved before. Our connection will be strong.”
“I’ve been trying telepathy since I heard,” Danielle said. Balen tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I can’t get anything. She may be drugged or unconscious.”
Jedrik jumped to his feet, his control faltering. The thought of his best friend in the hands of Tarek…of her never coming back. No. It was not happening. “This is friggin’ bullcrap. If anything happens to her, I swear I will—” A knife came flying through the air and embeded in the wood behind Jedrik’s ear.
Ryker raised his brows. “Shut it. Empty threats and losing your cool wastes my time and everyone else’s.” He casually walked across the room, yanked the knife from the wall and walked back.
Jedrik punched his fist through the drywall.
“Even if she’s drugged, I can reach her,” Xamien said. “Though reaching anyone while drugged unconscious is…well it’s a risk.”
“Xamien,” Glunk warned.
“We will see.” Xamien was looking at Waleron, though, when he said it.
“Let’s get this done. What do you need?” Keir asked.
Xamien nodded to Jedrik. “You’re her closest friend. I need you and anything that you think can link me to her.”
“I’ll get her room ready,” Anstice offered already heading to the basement stairs.
Glunk clapped his hands together. “Beuno. No time to waste.”
Jedrik noticed Waleron approach Balen and speak quietly to him. Then he Traced from the room. Where was he going so quickly?
Jedrik walked over to Balen and Danielle. He hadn’t seen Danielle in weeks and he greeted her with a kiss on both cheeks. She squeezed his hands with reassurance. She knew how close he and Delara were.
“Where did Waleron go?” he asked Balen.
“To kill Zurina.”
****
Waleron stood staring at the tree. The same one she’d fallen out of so many years ago. Where they’d shared their first kiss. She was an innocent woman who’d teased him. He could picture her smile so perfectly, her eyes lighting up like the brightest stars. He’d never bothered to admire the stars before her. The moment he escaped Jasmine that had been the first thing he’d done—looked up at the moon-lit sky and searched for Delara’s eyes.
Delara. Don’t leave me.
He pressed his palms into the trunk then fell forward, his forehead resting against the rough surface. You’re the reason I hold on. The reason I breathe. I can’t live without you.
The bark dug into the pads of his fingers as he held onto what he had let go of. Her. The woman he’d given everything to and then taken everything from. Over a century ago, he’d stood in this exact spot with her and knew she was the reason for his existence.
He shoved away from the tree. His Scar had been soothed by Max, but soon it would raise its ugly head again and this time Waleron didn’t have the pills to numb its rage. His Scar could have him if anything happened to Delara. He’d leave this earth if she wasn’t in it. His Scar would overtake him and they’d have to kill him.
Zurina did this. A Taldeburu. A woman he trusted. She’d sat on council with him for centuries. She knew him as a child, had been his mother’s friend. Why would she lie to him? Why would she destroy the one woman he cared about?
It was like ice picks were chipping away at his insides. Drilling. Stabbing. Hitting every nerve. What did Zurina have to gain from helping Tarek?
A sudden, swift rage tore from him and shattered the ice to pieces.
He was going hunting for a red haired bitch.
****
Waleron Traced to every place he could think of and still no Zurina. She knew he was after her and would Trace somewhere poetic. Bitch. She was the worst sort of being. At least vamps and CWOs were cruel and without morals to your face. Zurina stabbed him in the back while smiling. Hinting to the Wraiths that he was unstable. Trying to separate him and Delara.
He Traced to the place it had all begun—Zuggarmurdi. He’d been here with Balen and Danielle a couple years ago. Humans could become Senses, but it was risky. The water sometimes rejected the human and they’d die. For Danielle, there was no choice. If she stayed human she would’ve died.
In order for Danielle to become a Senses, she had to die in the Stream of Hell—a fitting name for the water inside the cave located in Zuggarmurdi. Danielle had been panicked. No one had ever done it before and drowning was not a good way to die. Her last words to Balen were bring me back then she went beneath the surface.
Balen soon followed and Waleron watched. Not even valium could lessen the horror of what Balen and Danielle had gone through. Danielle’s instinct was to come to the surface, to find air. And Balen held her in his arms, keeping her from rising. Making certain she died. Then Balen almost died himself when he couldn’t bring her back to life. Waleron had taken several pills all at once after witnessing that.
As Waleron stood outside the cave, he could sympathize with Balen. Back then, Waleron had been cold. Unfeeling to what Balen suffered. Yes, now Waleron remembered what it was like to possibly lose the woman you love. He finally felt the pain. The love. After twenty years he finally felt it all again.
He knew Zurina was here the moment he entered the cave. Her scent attached itself to the stale, moist air and her breath echoed in the emptiness. He also sensed others, maybe five men, but they were deeper in the cave. Rogue Senses, he suspected. He was unconcerned, not many were able to take him down.
Zurina was older than him and had abilities even he failed to know about. She’d also learned from his mother. He’d always thought how unusual it was that Zurina was such a kind-hearted person while his mother had been a cold-hearted bitch. Now he knew that Zurina had been a bitch all along.
The only sounds were the crunch of his boots on the loose soil, the stream flowing through the cave, and Zurina’s breathing. He stopped, seeing her sitting on the edge of the small pool of water.
“She used to bring you here all the time. Do you remember, Waleron?” Of course he fuckin’ did. “At night when no one was around.” Her fingers swept through the surface of the water. “She’d put you in here and watch you struggle to stay afloat.” Zurina shook her head, sighing, “You cried, sinking under the water, only to emerge choking and coughing. If you cried too much, she’d dunk you under. It didn’t take long for you to learn, even being so young, that if you didn’t scream, she’d leave you to tread.” Zurina closed her eyes and her voice grew colder. “I watched, knowing the water made you weak. Like it does all Senses. I never helped you. Never tried to convince her that what she was doing was wrong.”
She cupped a handful of water and brought it up to her face then let it spill slowly through her fingers. “Magic. The water was magical, she claimed. It would make you more powerful than any. That’s why she did it. She was adamant that you’d be the most powerful Senses in the world.”
Waleron remembered being afraid of water for many years. Any pools of it made him freeze up and he felt like screaming. It was his mother’s doing. Just like the swearing, although he was beginning to kick that in the ass. He walked further into the cave, closer to Zurina who looked completely at ease sitting on the side of the pool, her feet wading beneath the surface.
“Why?” That was all he wanted to know.
It was the first time she looked at him and he wasn�
��t affected by the anguish he saw in the depths of her eyes. Even sifting through the air, he could taste her remorse. It was too late for that.
“I made an oath to your mother. A blood oath. I was to protect you. Make certain you always had the oath to the Goddess, and to her, as your only priority.” Zurina met his eyes. “You broke that. Delara became your oath above all else.”
“I never broke my oath to anyone,” Waleron ground out.
“Yes, you live the Senses. You sacrifice yourself for them. But if it came to a decision—Xamien or Delara—whom would you pick, Waleron? Who lives and who dies? The Taldeburu or the Tracker?”
Waleron stepped towards her, her words sending his rage into overdrive. “There is no ultimatum.”
“True,” she shrugged. “Not now, but I warned you twenty years ago that you weren’t thinking clearly and again in the Realm. Still, you refused to listen.” Her voice raised an octave. “I told you to let her die. I warned you to let her go. You should’ve listened to me.”
His blood ran cold. Delara had been dying in a ditch. Zurina repetitively refused to help her, claiming Delara was too wounded to heal. That it would be too painful. That she couldn’t do it by herself.
“Yes. She was a threat to your oath.” Zurina sighed. “Waleron you were never meant to love. You were born to be a Taldeburu, to lead us.”
“Twenty years you waited. Why the hell didn’t you just kill her yourself, damn it? Why!” He sent a blast of energy at the wall and rocks crumbled to the dirt floor. “Tell me!”
“I’m a Healer. My oath is to heal. I could not break my oath and assist you with keeping yours.” She tilted her head to the side and looked at him curiously. “When did you stop taking the pills Waleron?”
“What?”
“The valium isn’t in your bloodstream. I’d be able to smell it if it were. You really shouldn’t have done that. It will be much more painful for you when she’s gone.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Dread seeped into his skin then sunk into his bones.
FALL (The Senses) Page 24
