Healing His Soul's Mate

by Dominique Eastwick

Shade debated explaining the elevators and how they worked but decided to keep this simple. “I am not a guest, nor am I staff.”

  “Ah.”

  Once in her room Ashlynn told him to make himself at home while she changed. A few minutes later, she came out dressed in a long T-shirt. “Can you hold me, please? I feel like my world is altered, somehow, and will never be the same. He isn’t even my husband, but I feel unsure. Scared.”

  Shade kicked off his shoes and took her hand. Settling her on the bed, he lay behind her and pulled the blanket over them both. Even though this had to happen, he wished he could have sheltered her from it. Suddenly, everything in Rekkus’ overprotective behavior toward Dana made sense. And, as the thought hit, his ability to read Ashlynn’s soul disappeared.

  Ah hell. What a time for the Fates to find his mate.

  Chapter Eight

  “Excuse me?” Rekkus demanded, storming out of his office. Angry did not begin to explain the emotions running through the other man at the moment.

  “The three are expecting you and Shade.” Myron remained behind her desk, out of reach of Rekkus and his temper.

  “No.” Rekkus began to pace, never a good sign. “No.”

  “Rekkus, you are going to wake the entire building. Keep your voice down.”

  “Myron, I am not leaving this island.” He slammed his fist into the receptionist’s table.

  Shade decided to step in. “You have to.”

  Rekkus spun toward him. “How long have you known about this?”

  “I found out right before you did,” Shade said, as surprised though not as irate as the tiger. “Listen, we have thirty minutes until sunrise when the portal opens. I suggest you inform Dana about what is going on.”

  Myron murmured, “It’s safe. The babies aren’t coming today.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to read the babies.”

  “I’m not. I am reading you.” She threw the king of clubs at him. “Shall I wake Cyrus and tell him to get ready?”

  “Cyrus can’t come,” Shade said. Cyrus’ safety remained here. Even without Rekkus, the safeguards put in place would protect him for the twelve hours they would be gone.

  “The hell he can’t. If I leave, so does he. Myron, call Kaleb. Wake him up. I need him up here now. Now means five minutes ago. I will fill him in once I have talked with Dana. And get Cyrus and Sarka.”

  “I’m up,” Sarka muttered, cradling a cup of coffee and heading into her office.

  “Is it wise, Myron?” Shade quieted his voice which made no sense even as he did it because Rekkus could hear almost everything said on the island no matter where he was.

  “The safest place for Cyrus is always with Rekkus, as you know. You were the one who fought so hard to get Rekkus to take the position as his bodyguard all those years ago.” Myron knew information no one else did.

  She made her calls, and as the players arrived, the lobby and office area began to bustle with activity.

  Sarka came out of the office. “Shade, will you be returning tonight?”

  “I am planning to.” With his soul mate on the island, he’d like to see them keep him away.

  “Give me your palm.” Shade held out his arm and flinched as Sarka drew blood with a knife. She forced his hand into a fist and collected the blood into a vial.

  The ringing of the elevator caught his attention before Cyrus appeared, yawning. “Do we have time for coffee?” He handed his sister a vial of blood before moving into her office.

  “He had to use his own knife,” Sarka said to no one in particular.

  Dana, exhausted and in Rekkus’ clothes, Kaleb rumpled, with shadows under his eyes, and Serena—as always gorgeous, smiling, and proving why people hated mermaids—entered from outside.

  “Coffee is in the office,” Myron offered.

  “Oh goodie,” Serena said.

  Sarka shook her head, but, with a gentleness unlike her, said, “What are you doing out of bed, Dana?”

  “Wanted to see the portal…seemed a good opportunity.” She stifled a yawn and sat on the chair next to where her husband stood. She laid her head against his thigh and closed her eyes. Rekkus continued to chat with Kaleb, playing with Dana’s hair. He held out his free hand without being asked and gave his blood.

  “I’ll be back in five minutes.” Sarka disappeared into the first elevator.

  “Can I get you something to eat?” Dana asked.

  Rekkus shook his head. “No, we’ll get something on the other side. Best to have an empty stomach when going through these things.”

  “How long has it been?” Dana stretched.

  “Over five years.” Rekkus smiled at her. “I’ll be back at sunset.”

  “You’d better. We have our second birth class.”

  “How can I forget?” He helped her out of the chair and led her to a door at the far end of the hall. “Stay in the Haus while I’m gone. The bed in my office is freshly made up.”

  “I will. I think I’ll hang with Sage and my sister today. Maybe find Cemil. He relaxes when he rubs my tummy, and it’s the least I can do.”

  Rekkus brought his mouth close to her protruding belly and placed a gentle kiss there. “You three behave. Allow your mum some peace today.”

  “I have contacted one of our people in the capital. They’ll spread the rumor your visit is to shop for baby things. This offers a good reason for you to leave the safety of the island.” Myron handed him a list. “Should you have time, I suggest you buy an item or two from this.”

  Sarka approached a few minutes later. “As soon as you are through, I’ll put the block on the portal. This won’t shut it down, only make it harder for anyone else to get through.” She handed him a cloudy vial of inky liquid. “You know what this is for.”

  “Thank you. Let’s pray it works.” Rekkus gave his mate one more kiss before stepping back. “I love you, Dana. Myron, could you keep her at a safe distance?”

  Rekkus stood in front of the opening doorway. “Cyrus, stop grinning like an idiot.”

  “Why are you grinning?” Shade wondered.

  “Rekkus hates going into the city. The commotion his presence causes is amazingly entertaining.”

  “Do try and shut up, Cyrus,” Rekkus growled. A flash of light signaled the portal ready, and, with a wink, he stepped through, followed by Cyrus.

  “Tell your sister I’ll be back tonight.” Goddess, how Shade hated the portals. Stepping into darkness, he experienced the excruciating pull followed by unbearable tightening before the world brightened. When his eyes focused once more, he found Rekkus waiting, arms crossed, apparently unaffected by the portals. Perhaps it was a shifter thing.

  But the man growled at the security guards—young shifters, and, from the smell of him, one of the tiger streak who had not the slightest idea who they were dealing with—and that was more of a Rekkus thing. “Do we intercede?”

  “Oh hell, no.” Cyrus slapped an arm across Shade’s chest. “He can handle them.”

  “No one is scheduled to come through the Wiccan Haus portal for another three days,” said one. Young shifters all had an overblown sense of self.

  “We need some ID,” insisted another.

  “ID?” The dangerous softness to Rekkus’ voice should have offered warning.

  “Go on, Rek, show them your ID.” Cyrus rubbed his palms together, grinning. “You didn’t think you could get through the day without anyone knowing you were here, did you?”

  Rekkus glared at him, and anyone other than his best friend would have cowered at the stare. An interesting dynamic there. Cyrus was being hunted by the worst the world had to offer and the villains were afraid of only Rekkus. The only person unafraid of Rekkus—with the exception of Dana—was Cyrus who worried about the assassins who were afraid of Rekkus. So the circle continued.

  Before Shade could blink, Rekkus had his shirt off. “Why is he getting naked again?” Did this man do anything cl
othed?

  Cyrus chuckled. “They asked for ID. This is the best ID Rekkus has.”

  Turning his back to the guards, Rekkus revealed the tribal tiger on his shoulder. A mere tattoo to the uninformed, but to paras it declared a prime. Rekkus had been born with it, as would one of the cubs.

  “Highness.” The tiger guard got to his knees, yanking the other one, a hawk shifter, down with him.

  “Oh, for fuck sake. Get off the floor.” Rekkus glared at the two. “Is there still a room between this door and the city?”

  “Yes, sire.”

  “Don’t sire me, and let us through. They are with me, so, unless you want me to rip off your heads, you will let us pass.” Rekkus lingered as they moved past him. “And no one but us will go through this portal tonight. I expect you both will be here when we return at sundown.”

  “Of course, sire.”

  Inside the small entry room, Rekkus turned to face Cyrus. “Change your hair and eye color.”

  Chanting under his breath, Cyrus shook his head as if shaking powder from his scalp. The black color puffed out in a cloud, leaving a red rich tone. His eyes changed from their Rowan icy blue to a fierce orange.

  “You look good as a ginger,” Shade said to fill the silence.

  “Is that what color it is?”

  “He can change it but has no control over the result. You need to redo your eyes. You look possessed…much better.” Rekkus handed him a vial he had taken from Sarka. “Now drink.”

  A testament of their friendship, Cyrus downed the inky liquid without questioning and with only a slight cringe. “What smells?”

  “You.” Rekkus walked out of the protective chamber. Since the security breaches, the only remaining portal to the island had been under strict watch.

  “Me?” Cyrus sniffed the back of his arm then his underarm.

  “The smell of your breath will make any para believe you are a shifter. Sage and Sarka have been working together on this for such an occasion.”

  “Rawr, cool.” Cyrus strutted around, puffing his chest out. “So, what am I? Were wolf, bear, ooooh, dragon. Say I am a dragon.”

  Rekkus stopped, and Cyrus collided with his back. The tiger sniffed the air. “Otter.”

  “Otter? You can’t be serious.”

  “Because I’m renowned for my witty repartee? Don’t blame me. Talk to the Rowan ladies.”

  “What the fuck, Rekkus.” Cyrus kicked a pebble. “How the hell am I supposed to get the ladies as an otter?”

  Rekkus shrugged and kept moving, but Shade caught his smirk before he turned away.

  They walked under an archway marked Portal Central. Once past it, the capital para city Lochmage would envelope them into its crazy hustle and bustle.

  “Remove your gloves and put them in your pockets,” Rekkus said, so low Shade barely made out the words.

  Shade watched Cyrus remove the single protection he had from the visions which had nearly broken him six years before. Touching something could cause him to see everything the owner of that object had ever done. But Cyrus was so associated with those gloves, even with the change in smell and coloring they would be a dead giveaway.

  “Cy.”

  “I will stay behind you and to your right at all times. You will call me by my middle name should you need me, and I am to do everything you say without question. I am not to try and save you. I am to save myself blah, blah, and fucking blah. I know the drill.”

  Rekkus turned and lowered his voice. “I do not take any part of your safety as a joke.”

  “Neither do I, big guy.” Cyrus leaned into Shade who had taken the stance to the left of Rekkus. “Sometime I feel I need a whip and stool to deal with him.”

  “I heard that.”

  “I hoped you had.”

  They walked the rest of the way in silence. Rekkus appeared to look straight ahead, not bothered by or interested in those around him, but they both knew he scanned. He listened and he was assessed. He had twelve escape routes already worked out. He did not, however, have any backup as they weren’t giving any time to set it up.

  Shade listened to the souls they passed. Some expressed concern and trepidation. Rekkus’ temper was world renowned, as was his strength, but he also received respect for his even-handedness. They couldn’t hide his presence in town, but, thus far, no one other than a teen girl, who thought Cyrus cute, had given the warlock a second look.

  As long as the onlookers were filled with fear, curiosity, and, yes, a lot of lust all directed at Rekkus, Cyrus remained hidden in plain sight. The few hostile souls he sensed were young shifters wanting to show their skills, but they weren’t stupid enough to think they could take on the tiger, although they would say they had to their friends later.

  Turning down a dark alleyway, Rekkus knocked on a large iron-riveted door. The watchman’s hatch slid open with a loud clang of metal hitting metal. “State your name and business.”

  Rekkus growled from deep in the back of his throat, at the end of his patience.

  Shade leaned against the wall. “He hates any social civility doesn’t he, Cyrus?”

  “It’s gotten worse, the longer he stays at the Wiccan Haus. No one expects him to be anything but gruff, and he meets their expectations.”

  The hatch slammed shut as the big door slid open. “Dammit, Rekkus, is it too much for you simply to say Rekkus, it’s Rekkus, instead of scaring the piss out of me?”

  “Hamish.” Rekkus gripped the other man’s arm in greeting. “Lock the gate and make sure no one enters until I am gone. I want every single gate to remain closed.”

  “Yes, sire.” The guard bowed and talked into a walkie-talkie while closing the gate behind them.

  Rekkus didn’t double-check. Hell, Shade doubted it ever crossed his mind his orders wouldn’t be followed, especially by one of his kind. Though the guard had been of the golden streak, he would follow any commands given to him by this man. “You can put your gloves back on. In fact, I recommend doing so. We don’t want to tempt the hags any more than we can.”

  They moved through the maze-like area until they reached the dark staircase. A few steps separated them from the open-air courtyard draped with the purple flowers of the weeping violet willow trees that lined the garden and offered ears to the ladies inside. The limbs moved to reveal the opening to the council’s great hall. These trees, though beautiful, could be lethal, and no person could find the great hall without their allowing them to pass.

  “As soon as we pass over the threshold, Cyrus, any illusions will disappear. But they should reappear as soon as you emerge again,” Shade informed him.

  “If it doesn’t, one of the ancients will have to fix the issue. He can’t leave different than he entered.”

  “And Sage’s potion?”

  Rekkus threw another vial at Cyrus. “You didn’t think I would come ill-prepared.”

  Cyrus took on his usual self and Rekkus marched to the center of the dome-ceilinged room. He knew the drill, had been here often enough. First, as a young boy with his father. Later, as emissary of the Syndicate, and the last time as Cyrus’ bodyguard after the murder of his own family. The man knew this room, these women, and what they expected. It didn’t mean he had to like it.

  He stood in the center of the room within the natural-lit circle. Perhaps not the Rowans, but most everyone else would show due respect to the three who governed all the para. Rekkus didn’t. He stood before them flushed with anger, jaw gritted. His presence would be homage enough.

  “Greetings, Prince.” One of the three voices or perhaps all three, bounced off walls until it disappeared into the universe. From his position at the side of the room, Shade could not determine where they sat or who spoke.

  “Why have you summoned me…now of all times?” Rekkus demanded.

  “Why, indeed.” Sarcasm would come from the vampire.

  “How fares your wife?” Concern for a shifter’s cubs would come from
another shifter.

  “She lies unprotected and heavy with child while I play nice with you.” He stood, arms crossed, feet apart in a stance declaring his obstinacy.

  “We have very different definitions of nice, young Prince.”

  Clenching his fists at his sides, Rekkus said, “Do not call me meaningless titles.”

  A collective sigh washed over the room and the three men standing within. If they had hoped time had softened the beast there, they were mistaken. Not something they often admitted to. Shadedor’s powers were useless in this room, much like Cyrus’ charm, but it didn’t take any magick to recognize they had hoped being mated had mellowed the tiger. Being wrong rarely sat well with the council. “It is meaningless because you refuse to add meaning to it.”

  “What is she talking about?” Cyrus whispered, tilting his head at just the right angle to keep his voice from traveling. Rekkus had trained him well.

  “What does young Cyrus wish to know?” another voice asked. “Come into the light so we can see you better. Five years is but a blink in time to us, but for you it can be an eternity.”

  Cyrus hesitated. His life with the Syndicate had been hell. A talent he’d neither wanted nor could deny. His existence always in danger. Perhaps he didn’t want to be in the presence of the three who had made his entire family a target of assassins. “Did you bring me here as a ruse, believing I would have him at my side?” Rekkus demanded.

  “You forget who you talk to.” At the rise in pitch of the collective voice, Shade and Cyrus covered their ears. Rekkus didn’t flinch.

  “I forget nothing,” the tiger growled.

  The air simmered with electricity. Few shifters could break the enchantments of the room to shift. Rekkus’ father had been one of them, and rumor had it one of the elders bore scars to prove it. No one had a doubt Rekkus, whose powers had surpassed his father’s by his teens, could do the very same.

  “Sisters, there is no need for this hostility.” Only the fae could calm a group so full of heated anger. “Rekkus, we brought you here as it is seven years to the day since we have last talked with you about taking your rightful place. The tigers are in need of their prime.”