by Jayde Brooks
Molly wrinkled her nose. “That’s kind of sick.”
“I’m just asking. You can tell me, Red. It’s just us here.”
Molly frowned. “I don’t want to gnaw on a corpse, Jarrod. I’m pretty positive.”
“If you change your mind, you’ll let me know?”
“I will.”
Silence drifted between the two of them for several minutes. Jarrod suddenly noticed the growing erection swelling in his lap. He looked up and realized that Molly had noticed it too. Heat. She was in heat.
“Now?” he asked.
“Unless you don’t want to,” she said, softly. “I’ll understand.”
No. He wanted to. Gotdamnit if he didn’t want to.
“Molly?” Eden asked, bursting into the room and rushing over to Molly’s side. “Oh, God!” she flung her arms around her friend. “You’re okay?”
“Shit,” Jarrod muttered, getting up and facing the wall.
Prophet stood in the doorway, chuckling at him.
“You’re alive! And you look a million times better!” Eden blurted out.
“Gee. Thanks, E. Like, I must’ve looked pretty shitty then?”
Eden nodded. “Really shitty. How do you feel?”
Molly thought before responding. “Surprisingly, pretty good.”
“Like Were good? Or vamp good?”
Molly shrugged. “Like I don’t know. It’s too soon to tell.”
“Do you have the urge to bite me on the neck?”
“Why’s everybody keep asking me that? No. I don’t want to bite necks. I want a good steak.”
Eden nodded. “Steak. Steak is better than necks.”
“And I want to,” Molly motioned her head in Jarrod’s direction.
Was he fucking blushing? Prophet looked at him like he was blushing.
It took Eden a minute to get her implication, but finally a light bulb went off over her head. “Oh. Oh, yeah,” she said, standing up and hugging Molly one last time. “Sure. Yeah. All that near-death shit will do that to you.”
Molly smiled mischievously. “So, I’ll see you later?”
Eden walked backward toward Prophet. “Yep.” She gave her friend a two-thumbs up for some odd reason, and then looked at Jarrod and grinned. “You two kids enjoy the rest of your day.”
Prophet casually leaned inside the doorway. “Ah, what’s the rush? Let’s make spaghetti and get up a game of cards or something.”
Eden grabbed him by the hand and pulled on him. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
This time, the pull from them was physical. Eden’s body jerked in Prophet’s arms high above ground. The temperature in the air began to rise.
“What?” he asked, looking at her as he carried her. “What is it?”
We are rested, young one.
Yes!
We are here.
“Shit!” Eden blurted out.
This time was different. Before, she felt them inside, clawing at her essence, at her thoughts and feelings. Now a prickly sensation erupted on her skin.
“Put me down, Prophet!” she demanded. “Now! Put me down.”
They landed in a field.
“What’s happening, Eden? Tell me. The Omen?”
She looked helplessly to him and nodded. “But it’s different,” she said, breathlessly stepping away from him and shaking her head. “It’s not the same.”
Suddenly her body jerked back as if someone had lassoed her around the waist.
“No!” he shouted, reaching out to her and grabbing her by the wrists.
The force was so strong, like a giant vacuum literally sucking her in. “Let go,” she screamed—to the Omen and to him.
His eyes widened as he looked at the space behind her. Eden couldn’t see it. If she turned to look, she’d lose her balance and her footing and would surely be taken.
That’s it, young one.
Fight!
As will we.
He shook his head. “Not yet. Not now.”
She no longer trusts him.
Not fully. Not like before.
Because he is a liar.
“No,” Eden said, clenching her teeth. It wasn’t true what they were saying. She trusted him with her life.
What kind of alpha is he?
Not a good one.
He can’t save her this time.
Weak.
“Eden!” he shouted, grimacing in agony. “What the fuck are you doing to me?”
Nothing. She wasn’t doing anything to him. It was the Omen. It had to have been them. Eden wouldn’t hurt him. She would never . . .
“Don’t! Eden, don’t!” he shouted.
Weak.
Look at him.
How easily he falls.
“If you’re going to split me open then do it already, gotdamnit!” he commanded, pulling even harder on her until she was finally free and pressed against his chest. “Quit fucking around.”
“It wasn’t me,” she shot back. “I didn’t—”
“Yeah,” was all he said before gathering her up in his arms, calling forth his wings and shooting up into the sky like an arrow. Eden couldn’t help herself. Overrun with too many emotions, all clamoring together inside her head, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, squeezed her eyes shut, and held on as if she believed he’d disappear at any moment, or she would.
The pull of the Omen was powerful beyond measure. So powerful that it took every ounce of her strength and willpower to hold on to Prophet. And even then, Eden’s grip began to weaken.
“No!” Prophet yelled, holding her tighter. “Not this time!”
A black hole opened up behind him as he flew, expanding and sucking him back toward it. But the Guardian fought, driving harder with his wings, opposite the force, straining every muscle, to try and keep from being dragged into that damn thing.
“Let me go, Prophet,” she said starting to release her grip on him. “They won’t stop until they have me.”
“They can’t have you,” he protested.
There was no way that Prophet could outfly the force, so he dove. Breaking free of the suction threatening to swallow them both, he flew hard and fast toward the ground like a missile, weaving his way through tall timbers, over mountains and through valleys. Eden didn’t dare look behind the two of them, fearing that the vortex was directly behind them. The Omen were relentless and she knew instinctively that if they took her this time, it would be the last.
“You need to put me down,” she managed to say, against the wind. “Put me down and go, Prophet.”
He kept his gaze focused on what was in front of him.
“They want me, Prophet. You keep going and let me go.”
She had no idea how much further they flew before he looked over his shoulder, eventually landing on his property behind the house and setting a shaken Eden down on her feet.
She was livid. “You think this is over?” she yelled. He was a fool and an idiot. “You think they’re just going to give up and not come for me?”
“Don’t you mean us?” he angrily challenged her.
“They don’t need you anymore.”
Eden had felt it. The Omen were strong enough to overpower her now without torturing him to do it. If they took him now, it would be for their amusement only. And they would make him suffer forever if they could.
“I feel it, Prophet,” she said, stepping away from him, filled with a kind of hopelessness that she had been holding off ever since she started on this journey. “It’s over. They’re coming.”
“Didn’t you just see what happened?” he said angrily. “They can’t have you if I don’t let them. It’s always been that way, Eden, from the very beginning, but for some reason you refuse to accept it.” He walked toward her. “Think about it,” he said, boring those metallic eyes of his through her like lasers. “With each and every bond you made with those Omen, I’m the one who got you out. I’m the one who saved you, Eden. It was never the other way around
.” The Guardian came closer and loomed his full six feet seven inches over her. “You survived the bonds because of me. You’ve resisted them overtaking you because of your love for me. Why the hell do you think they wanted me in the first place? Because I’m in the fucking way. Still.”
“It’s true,” she said, humbly. “You are my strength, Prophet. You always have been.”
“You’ve never been able to do this alone, sweetheart,” he said earnestly. “You’ve never had to, Eden.” He placed his hand to his broad chest. “I am here. I choose to be here because it’s my purpose. I have no other.”
He lies!
Eden shook her head. She couldn’t give in to the things they were trying to tell her. Prophet had proven himself time and time again, and he was right. If it hadn’t been for him, she’d have died a long time ago. He was the reason that she was still here.
He stared stone-faced at her. “You were never capable of surviving the bonds with the Omen, Eden,” he said, deathly calm. “And absolutely no one believed that you would ever be able to defeat Sakarabru.”
Prophet was right.
He lies, young one!
He is not to be trusted.
No. No, he is not.
Why were they telling her this? Why did their words resonate so profoundly? Eden was standing here, looking at him and listening to him knowing that everything he was saying was the truth, and yet a seed had been planted in her, a seed that was being fertilized and watered by the Omen, growing as they spoke.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, confused. “You know that I’m speaking the truth, Eden. We have been in this together from the beginning. I have been here for you and that will never change, so if we have to fly around the world to keep away from that damn vortex or whatever it is, then that’s what we’ll do.”
He would do that for her. Eden knew this, but . . .
She wants to believe him.
She knows.
Of course. How could she not?
Look!
How did she know? How did Eden know that he had lied about the death of the Ancient claiming to be Mkombozi? Eden looked past him and saw her running toward them.
Prophet turned too, saw the Ancient, and then turned back to Eden. “If this is going have a chance in hell of working,” he said gravely, “you’re going to have to trust me.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Eden’s eyes glowed a haunting green all of a sudden. “Too late,” she said, in a chorus of voices.
Mkombozi abruptly stopped a hundred feet away from where Prophet and Eden stood. She lowered her chin and squared her stance.
Isis, ENIG, and a host of other Ancients began to emerge from the forest surrounding Prophet’s house. One of Andromeda’s riddles came to the forefront of his thoughts. When he’d first heard it, it had been nonsense. But not anymore.
“The light of this world doesn’t have to go out, Prophet. But only you can keep it lit. You have a role to play. A much bigger one than you could’ve ever imagined. And you must play it as if your life depended on it. You must play it to the detriment of yourself.”
Prophet bridged two of the most powerful creatures in the universe. Depending on how this whole thing played out, the world would end here and now or it wouldn’t. But death was inevitable for one—or for all three of them. That was the only certainty remaining.
“I would ask you to leave,” Mkombozi said to the Guardian. “But I know that you will not.”
The two females locked on to each other. Eden lowered her chin and studied Mkombozi from head to foot. The air was so thick with tension that it pressed in on Prophet like a vise.
“Now is not the time,” he said to Mkombozi.
The females ignored him.
“You are impressive indeed, small one,” Mkombozi said. “Now that the Omen have you, I could not possibly defeat you alone.”
“Are you so sure that they have me, Mkmobozi?” Eden dared to ask in Theian. “Perhaps it is I who have them.”
Mkombozi looked amused. “Not likely. I admire you for surviving such an elaborate adventure, Reborn. And I pity you for falling victim to Khale’s lie. You believe that you are me.” She paused. “Do you believe all the things that Khale told you?”
“Not all,” Eden responded quietly. “Khale was a liar. She betrayed me.”
“At least you are wise enough to know that much. She lied to me as well. Mother could be very convincing.”
“Yes,” Eden agreed.
The Guardian braced his stance and stared down each female with intensity. Yes, Eden’s eyes were green instead of brown, but if she was under the influence of the Omen, it was different this time. The chorus of voices when she spoke seemed to converge into one that somehow sounded authentically Eden. When the Omen took control, atmospheric changes usually occurred, or earthquakes, but now there was nothing. She seemed strangely in command of herself, and perhaps even of the Omen.
“You and I are not one and the same,” Mkombozi said. “You and the others have been compelled to believe falsely. If it is true, Eden, how could I be here? How could we both be here at once?”
“I know how addictive they can be,” Eden whispered, a strange new gleam filling her eyes. “I know how you need them, crave them. I know that you have never stopped wanting them and that you would never stop searching.”
“One of us is a lie,” Mkombozi said flatly. “It is not me. I am the trueborn Redeemer and the heir of the Omen. They were made for me.”
Eden nodded. “They were. And I have them now.”
Mkombozi’s anger and resentment began to resonate on her face. “How dare you stake claim to a legacy that does not belong to you? How dare you so boldly claim my life?”
“I have my own legacy, Mkombozi, and my own life. I do not need yours.”
“I have traveled back from the afterlife for this moment,” Mkombozi said, with warning.
“I have died too,” Eden responded. “Too many times to count.”
“Contrary to what you choose to believe, impostor, we are not equal.”
“No, Ancient,” Eden said defiantly. “We are not. Tell me, Mkombozi—” She took a bold step closer to the Ancient.
“Eden,” Prophet said with a warning look.
Eden ignored him. “—what makes you think that you can come here and reclaim what is no longer yours?”
The temperature in the air began to rise. The color of Eden’s eyes intensified.
“Back down, Eden,” Prophet warned, turning to her.
Eden stared up at him, confused. “You defend her, Guardian?”
He was protecting and he was buying time to put all the pieces in place. He was desperately fighting to keep the light of this world, of his world, from going out. To do that, he had to play the hell out of his part. He slowly backed away from Eden and walked back to where Mkombozi was and stood protectively by her. She glanced admiringly at him.
The confusion and pain on Eden’s face nearly broke him, but he had to stay put. He had to stand his ground. “No,” she said, under her breath. “Prophet? No. Don’t do this.”
He steadied himself at Mkombozi’s right side. “I have no choice.”
None of them could’ve seen this coming. Isis exchanged bewildered glances with ENIG and Van Dureel. The vamp had been poised to stand at Mkombozi’s side and to kill her the moment she was too distracted by Eden to suspect that she’d been betrayed. Isis and the others would target Prophet and Eden. But this change in allegiance by the Guardian had stunned them all.
“We can’t do this now,” ENIG whispered. “With him fighting along side Mkombozi and Eden controlled by the Omen, this won’t work.”
“So what do we do?” Van Dureel asked.
“None of this matters,” Isis insisted. “It doesn’t matter whose side he’s on. Let them fight. Look for opportunity, and take it.” She glared at them both. “Mkombozi doesn’t have the Omen yet.”
“He’ll protect her, though,” ENIG s
aid.
“Or he’ll be torn,” Isis concluded, sensing uncertainty in Prophet. “He loves them both.”
“Eden will shred us with the Omen,” ENIG said.
“I just want to keep my head,” Van Dureel chimed in.
“Before this happened, I wanted you to keep it too,” Isis said sarcastically. “You were going to come in handy, but now . . .”
Van Dureel motioned to his drones and all of them, including him, disappeared into the forests.
“We still need him,” ENIG said.
“He’s not going anywhere. He’s still got a stake in this like the rest of us.”
“Let’s hope.”
Mkombozi could almost see the young human crumbling inside, falling to pieces, and disintegrating at the realization that the love Prophet had once had for her was as false as her life had been.
Eden’s body began to tremble. Green rage illuminated from her eyes. Prophet wrapped one long, muscular arm around Mkombozi’s waist, but the human didn’t even notice.
“I have my Guardian back,” Mkombozi said, with conviction. He had chosen her. If she had doubted him before, she did not doubt him now. “And I will have my Omen.”
Eden let out a piercing scream, releasing so much energy into the air that the ground fractured and trees uprooted all around them. But the Guardian was quick and had summoned his wings. He took flight with Mkombozi before the concentrated power of Eden’s attack could reach them. Eden searched for them and then looked up. Suddenly, Tukufu cried out in agonizing pain and, still carrying Mkombozi, fell like a rock from the sky. He managed to land on his back, protecting Mkombozi from the impact. The ancient Redeemer immediately stood to her feet.
“I will have what is mine, impostor!” she shouted at Eden, who stood a distance away, her chest heaving in an Omen-induced rage. This is what Mkombozi had counted on. The human’s rage, fueled by the Omen, would leave her off-balance and irrational. Her broken heart would leave her hopeless. And if Mkombozi could manage to survive her attack then Eden would have no choice but to concede defeat and relinquish the Omen, for all that she had to live for would have been taken from her.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
