The Gifted 3: Passions Ascended (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  Eclipsed? How about their powers were worlds apart? Eventually, they would, all nine of them, be equal in magic. But right now, both Logan’s and Cameron’s abilities had already been honed. They were likely nearly as powerful as she.

  There’s nothing for me to teach them.

  Her two men would have had to have been practicing for years in order for them to have their inner embers burn so bright and command so much power. Not only that, they had to have each been born of parents who were both descended of the Chosen.

  Stop it! They are not my men!

  Diana stopped pacing again. It occurred to her that Logan and Cameron not only knew about their own magic they also knew about hers…and about the prophecy. She recalled that moment when Cameron had kissed her hand. The words he spoke then finally completely sank in, and she understood them in every facet of their meaning. We meet at last, my mate.

  Had he simply called her his mate…or had he claimed her? What was the exact protocol here, anyway?

  A loud bang and a flash of yellow light jarred her attention. She swirled around, her eyes scanning into the darkness, looking for whatever had caused the sound and the flash. Laughter reached her, and a moment later, two men emerged from the darkness. They seemed to be joking with each other as they walked, not even seeing her, and she wondered if they’d set off a firecracker of some sort.

  She’d never seen the two before, and she was a little miffed that they’d had the nerve to interrupt her private time.

  Then something hard, fast, and invisible struck her, lifting her from the ground and hurling her back several feet. She landed on the sand on her back, winded. Her face hurt, as if she’d been punched, she had trouble catching her breath, and she couldn’t move.

  She couldn’t move a single muscle! Panic filled her. She reached out to her powers and felt a barrier, as if a force field of some sort separated her from her gift, preventing her from connecting with it.

  The two men kept coming toward her, only now they were no longer laughing.

  They stopped a few feet from her and looked at her for a long moment. “I’m Rick, and this is Ed. We have a problem, Diana Reynolds.” Rick tilted his head, as if he would see every inch of her.

  “And, sadly, our problem is your problem,” Ed said.

  “You see it’s a fact that there’s just so much we don’t know.” Rick shook his head. “Maybe our father is crazy, and maybe he’s not. Maybe he had our brothers killed, and maybe he didn’t. Maybe your friends really took care of that for him. We don’t know, and like I said, that’s the problem right there. We just fucking don’t know.”

  “So we told the old bastard, sure, we’ll go out to California for you. We’ll stop two Latents from meeting with the woman of an ancient lineage who came here from some mythical place through magical channels.”

  The sneer on both men’s faces said they didn’t believe a word they’d been told. Diana still couldn’t move. She couldn’t even reach her powers. And then, as Rick moved his hand, she found that her situation took a turn for the worse because it became harder and harder for her to draw a breath.

  Until she couldn’t breathe at all.

  “Like I said, we don’t know. We don’t really believe that whole mythical place bullshit. Still, something has to be done because we sure as hell don’t want to die, too. So, this is us handling the situation. We’re going to kill you, and that would definitely prevent the three of you from laying eyes on each other. It’s a shame, really. You’re pretty. But not pretty enough for us to die for.”

  She tried to calm herself, tried to reach down deep with her mind, to open the powers she’d just moments before closed away. Her vision began to blur, and her heart thudded in her chest. She felt her eyes bulge and her throat constrict.

  Another explosion rocked the ground, making the men—Rick and Ed—stumble. Their bodies jerked, and their attention shot to some place beyond where she lay on the ground.

  Diana tried to breathe, but she was still frozen—and then something moved near her, some force she didn’t recognize, and she finally drew in a deep lungful of air. The pressure that had been choking her and holding her down was finally completely gone. She flipped over onto her stomach, raised her head, and tried to scream out a warning when she saw what had caught her attackers’ attention.

  Just there, beyond them, Logan and Cameron stood, looking mad as hell.

  Fear for her men filled her. Diana tried to get up, needing to help them, but her legs wouldn’t hold her. So she flopped down and could only watch, helpless and frustrated, as Logan and Cameron faced off against two murderous warlocks.

  * * * *

  Cameron had never been so furious or so frightened in his life. Diana had been moments away from losing consciousness. If they hadn’t found her when they had…

  He pushed the thought away and, instead, focused on the two bastards who’d attacked his mate. Killing them held great appeal, but that was a line he’d rather not cross if he could help it.

  However, he had no compunctions about fucking them over very badly.

  He and Logan didn’t talk. They attacked. They rained wave after wave of magic-propelled pain on the two younger men, each pulse fashioned to resemble a fierce, closed-fist punch. They worked fast, and hard, not giving them a chance to recover. As he attacked, he also used his magic to probe, to learn what he could of his enemy. What power the two Fortunas had felt disorganized and weak to him. He suspected their magic was easily depleted, that they would need time to replenish it. They’d used a lot of it, one binding Diana and the other trying to choke the life out of her.

  One of the enemy’s volleys got through his defenses, and he felt the tear to his left arm. He cast a glance down. He was bleeding, but it wasn’t a deep wound. The pain just made him madder and helped him focus. Logan used his hands to help direct where his punches struck. He varied the recipient and the spot. Then Cameron changed his attack from fists to shards of glass. Each man quickly showed more hits, cuts, and abrasions than either he or his brother.

  “Fuck it, Ed. Let’s get the hell out of here.” The two assailants stepped back and vanished. Cameron immediately knew they hadn’t gone far, just as he knew they wouldn’t be back. At least, they wouldn’t be back tonight.

  The battle had barely lasted five minutes, but it was five minutes too long. He and Logan ran forward, dropping down on either side of Diana.

  She was breathing, but tears were streaming down her face. Logan reached out and lifted her into his arms. He ran a hand over her, and Cameron knew he was checking for internal injuries. His sigh, and the way he laid his head against hers for a moment told him there were none.

  “I couldn’t…I couldn’t…” Her voice came out raspy and rough.

  I couldn’t help you. Cameron easily slipped into her thoughts. She was crying, not from pain, but because she couldn’t help them, and she’d been frustrated and afraid for them.

  “Shh, love.” He ran his hand over the back of her head. “It’s all right now.”

  “Hang on to me, baby,” Logan said. “We’re going to our place.” It wasn’t necessary for Cameron to touch Logan’s shoulder in order for him to follow his brother, but he placed his hand there anyway.

  Cameron knew Logan as well as he knew himself and was totally unsurprised when they left the beach and materialized in the large master bath in their penthouse apartment.

  “Speak to me, baby.” Logan’s words came out tender. This was the real Logan Firth, the one who would ache for the woman he loved if anything happened to her.

  “My throat…” Diana’s voice came out as a whisper.

  “Are you hurt anyplace else?” Cameron asked.

  She shook her head. Cameron could see she was trembling. It took only a moment for them to make a decision. Cameron turned the jets on in the hot tub and vanished his own clothing. While Logan did the same for his and Diana’s clothes, Cameron conjured a cup of tea with honey and some of his mother’s medicinal he
rbs in it. Lucky bastard. Cameron set that thought aside. Diana, nude, nearly stole his breath. She’d be in his arms soon enough.

  Then they were in the tub. Logan arranged Diana so that she lay across them both. While his brother continued to keep his arms around her, Cameron held the teacup to her lips. She sipped it slowly. She sent him a quizzical look, and he guessed she felt the healing begin immediately.

  “Our mother has a talent with healing herbs,” Cameron said. “I pinched some of her favorite tisane.” He grinned at her, coaxing a tired smile in return.

  Then her eyes widened, and she struggled to sit up. Logan helped her, but before either of them could ask what was wrong, she reached out and laid a hand over the wound on Cameron’s left arm.

  He felt the heat of her magic. Covering her hand with his, he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her head. “It’s all right, love, it wasn’t deep. But thank you.”

  “It’s healed now.” She turned to look at Logan. “You?”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m all right. They didn’t get me at all.”

  “Rick and Ed. They said they were Rick and Ed, and it didn’t click. I’d locked my magic down and…” Diana puffed out a breath.

  “And before you could react, they’d bound you.”

  “They did.” She closed her eyes. “They were going to kill me.”

  “Rest for just a bit longer, slugger.” Logan eased her head back down on his shoulder. “Give the herbs and the hot water a bit more time to finish their healing and soothing work. That will also give us a chance to quell our terror and our rage.”

  “I couldn’t help you. That was the hardest part. I couldn’t help you.”

  “No, Diana. The hardest part was our knowing that you were under attack and taking precious seconds to find you.” Logan didn’t sound quite as tender as he had.

  Cameron began to caress Diana’s leg, using his hands and his magic to relax her. He shot his brother a telepathic message. There’d be time later for them to give her hell for running away from them. But not now. Not when fear’s stench still coated all their flesh. “Next time, love. You owe us one, so if those bastards get the drop on us, we’ll expect you to come to the rescue, swinging.”

  “Deal.”

  They stayed quiet and still for a few minutes, doing exactly what they needed to do—letting the calm soak into them all.

  “Let’s get out and dry off. Then, Miss Reynolds, you need to fill in the many blanks for us. Just who exactly are the Fortunas, and why were they bent on killing you?”

  “Fair enough.” Diana sat up, and Cameron knew she was nearly back to normal. “But I’m not the only one who owes a tale. I was expecting mates with the barest embers of power within, not fully matured warriors. So you owe me an explanation, too.”

  Cameron met Logan’s gaze. Both men understood that she’d referred to them as her mates. But they were smart enough to know that it wasn’t a done deal, not yet. They still had to get to know each other and make the decision to stay or go. Or, rather, Diana had to make that decision. He and Logan were already there, in their hearts. It wasn’t something Cameron could explain rationally, but there it was.

  Logan nodded. “Fair enough. Let’s get dry and comfortable first. And wine. There should be wine.”

  Cameron grinned. He could feel both his brother and his woman gearing up to grill the other. Cameron, as usual, held the middle ground. It was what he was used to, and somehow, even before he’d met her, he’d known that Diana was going to mirror Logan, temperamentally speaking. His brother believed he would win every argument and come out on top in every contest—and he knew from the peek inside her thoughts he’d allowed himself on the beach, that was a mindset Diana possessed as well.

  That was fine with him. It was nice to be back in familiar territory.

  Chapter 3

  Roman Fortuna had only a moment to shield his power. He’d kept his senses open, waiting for them. They were tired, their magic depleted, but it was still there.

  Even though it was necessary, he hated handicapping himself this way. It would be temporary, yes, but closing his magic down would leave him blind to his father. Gregor Fortuna could enter this building and blow his apartment door right off its hinges, and he wouldn’t see him coming until it was too late.

  Of course, that wasn’t likely to happen. His father would only come at him if he suspected Roman was a man of power. His sire’s madness pretty much guaranteed he’d never see his youngest son’s true colors.

  Roman brought himself back to the moment. His pending visitors had by-passed the security guard and were arriving unannounced, not unusual behavior for them.

  He had just long enough time to pick up a book that was on his coffee table, sit in his recliner, and begin to read. He relaxed and waited.

  The locks on his door released, the door burst open, and his brothers—Ricardo and Eduardo—strode in.

  Roman jerked as if he’d been startled by their sudden appearance. Then he exhaled. “Geez, guys, give a man a heart attack, why don’t you?”

  “Roman, you have to help us.” Ricardo didn’t look his usual, cocky self. He looked scared straight down to the bone—and a little the worse for wear.

  Roman got to his feet, concern in his voice. “Why? What’s happened? Are you all right? Eduardo?”

  They both looked as if they’d had a very rough night. Serves them right for what they tried to do on that beach earlier. Roman closed off his thoughts. He needed to react as if he knew nothing.

  “No, we’re not all right. You have any booze around here? Anything really strong?”

  Roman had to hold his magic in check, something that usually didn’t require much effort. He guessed that, despite everything, the blood ties ran deep. “I’ve got some single malt scotch that’s…very old.”

  “That’ll do.”

  Roman set aside his book and walked over to his liquor cabinet. He didn’t waste any time. That his brothers would expect him to serve them his best scotch wasn’t anything more than he could expect. He poured out three glasses, two fingers each. Leaving the bottle in plain sight, he figured if his brothers wanted more, they could help themselves.

  He carried the glasses to them and then resumed his seat, his own liquor in hand. I’m probably going to need it. He hadn’t expected the two would show up here. But here they stood, and clearly too wired to sit. “All right, tell me what happened. And I don’t know what I can do to help you. I don’t have any power, like you do. But I’ll help if I can.”

  “You might not have any magic, but you have other talents. We know the life you’ve built for yourself, and you’ve managed to keep off of the old man’s radar,” Eduardo said.

  “That has to be worth something right there. And, right now, it could be worth everything to us.” Ricardo paced. Then he looked up. “Did you know that Father called Eduardo and me to a private meeting yesterday morning?”

  “No, I didn’t.” Damn it. His father must have cloaked the meeting or else Roman would have been aware of it. “What did he want to see you about?”

  “What else has been on that crazy old man’s mind, lately? The fucking so-called prophecy, that’s what. He sent us out to California, on the same fucking mission he sent the others on. Same damn shit—some woman who’d allegedly been sent here from the fucking great beyond, to mate with two men of latent power.”

  How did father know about Diana Reynolds? How had he known of any of them? It was telling that the old man knew only the women’s names, and not the men’s. Likely that was because the men, for the most part, hadn’t yet come into their power. He brought his attention back to his brothers. Roman couldn’t afford to let his shield drop, so he said, “And?”

  “And we went out there. All of our brothers are dead. So we decided the best thing we could do at this point was kill the bitch before she ever even met the alleged Latents. We honestly don’t know if what Father has been saying is true or if he’s been using the excuse to kil
l us off himself, two by two. We decided not to take any chances and just act.”

  “Is that how you got banged up? You murdered some poor woman Father sent you after?” The hardest thing Roman had ever done was to pretend he didn’t care about his brothers’ answer.

  “Poor woman my ass. We tried.” Eduardo took a long drink from his glass. Then he reached out, pulled the bottle to him, and poured more for himself and his brother. “Tonight, we tried, believe me. She was nearly out of air when two fucking warlocks showed up. Latents? Fuck, they each had more raw power than the two of us combined would have. They pounded the shit out of us. We’re both amazed we’re still alive. Roman, they each had enough power to kill us both. I still don’t know why they didn’t.”

  They wouldn’t kill as a first option. That’s not the way of the gifted—or the chosen—usually.

  “We had just enough magic left in us to get the hell out of there. We took a private jet home but left the pilot believing he’d come back to Chicago alone.” Ricardo nodded. “We’re done. Seriously, we’re done with the whole fucking scene. The promise of inheritance isn’t worth our lives. We want to disappear, go someplace where Father will never find us. We need your help for that.”

  “I see.”

  He’d offered the others the chance to walk away, and they hadn’t. He’d have spared their lives if they had.

  It would seem his youngest older brothers were the smartest of the bunch. Roman gave the appearance of thinking. “I know someone who can provide false identities.” He could conjure them himself in a heartbeat, and they’d be authentic, too. “I also have a couple of properties you could hide on… one is a small Caribbean island. There’s a house on it, a small village close by. All the amenities. Or there’s a farm, about an hour’s drive north of Toronto, Canada. I’d purchased both to flip. It’s one of the things I do. You can have whichever one you’d like. I’m assuming you want to stay together?”