by Jamie Magee
“Brosia’s done something. I came back to tell you, Adair…hell, fucking King—you all have to figure out what it is and stop it because I swear to you I’m weak enough that the next time I sit still for more than a moment, she will pull me into Zen and hold me there…and Adair will be defenseless.”
“She threatened Adair?”
As odd as it was, the very thought of this Brosia woman doing so was more offensive than the fact she had all but stolen Talon back.
“I don’t know what she did—she said it was my fault, she had to make a barter to get me home. Apparently, the barter promised someone eternal life free from imprisonment, and allowed evil to walk among the mortals.” He hesitated, trying to remember everything Brosia had said. It was often hard to do with the haze of Zen between then and now. “Whatever the barter is, it has to do with Adair. She told me to stay. Adair would be there soon enough.”
Reveca drew in sharp, pissed breath. “She’s going to have to get through me first.”
Talon dared to twitch a smile at the irony of it all. “I don’t know if this has to do with Talley or not, but something is comin’, Reveca. Some evil. And it’s my fault.” He looked up at her. “I couldn’t…” He swallowed. “I saw Brosia the moment I died. I felt her pull me and I fought to stay with you, and I kept fighting. Right now I don’t know if I was right or wrong to do so, but Adair doesn’t deserve to be in the crossfire—no innocent soul does.”
No, they didn’t, Reveca thought to herself. Neither did the Sons she and Talon had raised as one—their family of warriors.
Creator help us all…
Chapter Two
Every muscle in Reveca’s body was trembling. So many years and choices and life was standing between her and Talon and it was now coming to a head—an end neither of them could have dared to imagine. “I’ll see to it that whatever barter that bitch made is null and void,” Reveca swore.
Within his dark eyes, beyond the weariness that aged him in some way, past the fire that was barely an innocent flame, Reveca saw pride in his gaze. She also saw his fear for her. “You have no idea what you’re up against,” he warned.
“And you have no idea what I have already fought.”
Reveca had gone head to head with a fucking God to save her Kenson. Granted she lost, but she’d stood her ground—a Lady of Death could never hope to have the power Reveca had held her own against.
Reveca knew she could protect her own life; with steadfast planning she could protect Adair’s and her boys’. What she could not swear to was stopping the reaction of such a confrontation. Lords of death were deceitful and never let a grudge go. Reveca could only imagine Ladies were much the same, if not worse.
Reveca’s mind was whirling with battle plans along with barters she could make. She’d already determined she’d need her sister and Jamison’s insight—at the very least they could speak to Jade. She saw them as allies.
She knew King’s calm mind and his vast knowledge of the lore, of every dimension, life and death, was a weapon she could wield. He was bound to know some way to resolve this. Some way to keep Talon alive, and to keep his daughter safe, and stop whatever evil the devil named Brosia had given a pass.
“I’m barely fighting her as it is, Reveca.”
No, bullshit—you are not giving up! Reveca’s thoughts raged at him. Not once had she ever seen him this broken, and she had nursed him through every hell one could imagine.
“First you fuckin’ cheat on me. Now you’re telling me you have a daughter by some death Lady, and here is the kicker—you’re going to die. Just fuckin’ give up and leave me to protect your daughter and the family we built, all alone.”
Solemnly he looked up at her. “I want to stay and see you through this. I’m fighting. Know that I am.” His lips quivered, then finally a sardonic grin emerged. “Besides, you’re not alone,” Talon said drawing in a deep breath.
King’s scent was rich on Reveca. Talon could all but see every place his hands had been on her, hear the soft whispers, the near silent demands he made of her body, and the answering cry of pleasure Reveca returned.
No, Reveca was not alone, not anymore. The hell of it all was they were all together strapped to a sinking ship. King’s wars, at some point, would find their way to the Boneyard, to all immortals’ doorstep. Until then, the betrayals, the ghosts of the pasts, and the unruly mortals, along with the twisted Rouges—they were doing nothing but building the final despair that was destined to come.
“No, I’m not. I have the warriors you trained at my back,” Reveca said, daring him to put King on the table of the argument after what he’d admitted this night.
“Listen to him,” Talon said as if he were on his dying breath, and perhaps he was. “No matter how mad he makes you, listen to him. When it comes to the likes of your life, our family, he’ll protect you as long as he’s able.”
Reveca drew in a sharp breath, not only hearing, but also feeling the weight of his words. “What do you know? What other secrets are you hiding?”
Talon’s eyes glazed over, with emotion or weariness she didn’t know. “One soul, one debt, Reveca. You love him, his fight is yours.”
She knew that, yet Talon made her feel like she had weighed the seriousness of King’s battles well enough.
The threat of Crass pulling King back into his prison, or worse, Revelin discovering King was alive and well and reaching down to smite him, hung around Reveca’s neck like a noose ready to pull her into death. The fate that stated Cashton would rise and when he did he’d slay five souls, King being one of them—Reveca was still hoping the brotherhood of the MC would have altered the doomed outcome. Cashton had all but assured her, he’d never hurt King for it would be hurting her.
“I have accepted his battles,” Reveca said calmly, sure there could be nothing worse King could face, nothing she wouldn’t stand at his side and fight with him.
Talon searched her gaze and knew instantly she was still unaware. She still had no idea she and King were linked; all the souls she’d brought back from the grips of death were as well—one death equaled all of their deaths.
He wasn’t really surprised. It had taken him over a hundred years and the threat of his deathbed to tell Reveca about Adair. He could only imagine it would take King more than a few months to gather the will to tell Reveca all she adored was condemned unless she and King found a way to defeat a God.
“And I have accepted your battles, too,” Reveca said evenly.
“She has won already.”
Reveca jerked her head to the side. “Where is Brosia? Where did she come from? Why does she have her claws in you?”
“I’ve already told you. I would imagine she’s cut from the same cloth as Crass.”
A noticeable shiver ran down Reveca’s back.
“In demeanor.”
She lifted a brow.
“She’s far from hideous.”
“You trying to piss me off?”
“No. I’m telling you that she’s good at what she does. She always knows when you’ve left me, and she fights even more so when you have—she may have lost the battle but she’s going to win the war.”
Reveca’s gaze rushed over him. “This is your game? You know what to do to make yourself strong. I’m not the only woman on this planet—obviously. Find a way to build your energy, your power. Fucking meditate for Creator’s sake.”
He chuckled under his breath. “The great Reveca, the almighty protector of balance—the one who bows to the laws of karma is wishing me to slate some girl to her death in order to live.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Reveca said even though she knew it was true. His beast was barely in its cage, the flaming bird was heating the room, and his natural aggression was apparent in every taut muscle of his body—he’d have no control, not once he felt the rush of raw energy.
“It is. And I won’t do it.”
“Why?” she breathed.
“Is that a serious question?”
/>
“Why would you do this to us, our family? Why did you step out Talon? What the hell has gotten into you? Secrets and cheating? And to top it off—giving up?”
He was standing before her within a breath, looming over, more beast than flaming bird present. “This deal with Adair and Brosia has nothing to do with me and you, this shit that just went down. It’s not ‘bout me—I gave you the way out you wanted, the one you needed.” One day you’ll realize why, he thought.
The tears of confusion and anger welled in her eyes. He was right. One way or another at this point, she would have been the one breaking him. She would’ve lost her battle with her emotions and gone to King.
But even if it had come to that, she would be damned if she left him to starve, defenseless.
And now this. She discovers he’s been hunted, by a devil—and according to him, all but captured.
I’ll be damned.
Without warning, sheer emotion took over Reveca. Her energy thrashed out tossing him across the room, landing him on the bed, knocking down chairs and the table in his path.
He struggled as she stalked forward, with tears flowing down her cheeks.
“No, never like this, Vec,” he roared thrashing, using every ounce of his strength to escape her.
Too many emotions were soaring through Reveca as she stared into his dark eyes and did her best to hold some shred of composure.
She had lived lifetimes with him. There were times when she was so furious with him that she could’ve ripped the very earth in half with her wrath, and there were times when he would make her ache so deeply her tears could fill an ocean. Through it all, she’d loved him. For every wrong Talon had ever done, he’d done a million rights.
Yet, she still hesitated as she tracked forward. She knew an act such as this could very well destroy any second chance, born again love affair, with King. She’d yet to surrender to him completely. To forsake him now, when they were still fragile, would be unforgivable.
With each step she took, Talon writhed more.
His beast had broken free. The utter amount of energy he was using to protect himself made him seem bigger. Every muscle was flexed in his formed chest.
A roar came from deep within, his eyes were aflame. More than once Reveca swayed against his resistance.
“Unforgivable!” he bellowed.
Reveca wasn’t sure if he meant he’d never forgive her or King wouldn’t…or perhaps he meant she’d never forgive herself for this violation. In some way, no matter the answer, he was right.
She pushed forward with every ounce of force she had. Her thrash was so potent, so violent that it all but knocked Talon out. His body was still tense, but not fighting nearly as hard. His glare locked on hers as his chest heaved.
At once, she entranced his gaze. And then it came, a seductive wave of energy.
His eyes glazed over with desire, his hard length strained against his jeans, the sharp edges of his stomach tense, damp with sweat.
Waves of power, her very soul, started to flow into Talon.
She was sure King would emerge at any moment, feel her draining—she told herself if he did, he’d know she had to, he’d understand Talon was too close to death. He’d understand they all needed him here.
He didn’t come.
She watched as another flow of her energy began at the crown of Talon’s head then slowly trickled down his body. Though she sensed the pure rapture she was giving him, his struggle didn’t abate. He fought her, he rejected her—at least his mind did. His body didn’t.
He cried out, a roar that signaled his release.
He only paused for a moment, to absorb the rush of his climax. Then he began to struggle once more.
The more he struggled the less Reveca saw of him. Instead she saw some illusive woman, a Lady of Death, who’d robbed her. Who’d not only stolen what was rightfully hers, won and claimed fairly, but had truly placed a division between Talon and Reveca. A child.
Once spoken, some secrets cut too deeply to ever heal the pain they inflicted.
Betrayal, adultery…they were deepest cuts of them all.
“Not like this,” Talon grunted again as his second release claimed him.
A catch twenty-two, is that what they call it? Reveca thought to herself as she realized her predicament. The more energy she gave Talon, the stronger he became—the more she had to use to overpower him.
If she stopped forcing energy into him, using every witch skill she had to her name to save him, she’d lose him. If she didn’t, she could lose herself.
Maybe I’ve already lost myself, she thought as his third release rocked through his body.
The passage of energy continued on. Then it grew to the point where it was more than sensations that would cause them to sway. They were literally pushing each other off their feet, knocking each other down.
The swamp around the home grew silent, a wind was birthed, tossing the room about, a roar whose sound mimicked an invisible power, thundered through them both.
She kept her gaze on him, stared into the charging bull he’d become. Across their life she’d seen his gaze at every element of strength, and she waited until she saw his prime arrive, until she knew he could not dare to thirst for more strength before she let herself fall back.
And she did fall back. She landed on the front porch, feet from where he laid, recovering from yet another climax, his chest heaving with power, his golden skin damp with the humidity, his eyes alight with fire.
“What have you done?” he rasped.
For the second time that night Talon spoke those words, and for the second time he didn’t know if he was asking the woman before him or himself.
His head lolled to the side. He couldn’t recall ever feeling stronger in his life but the knowledge of what she’d done, the heavy weight in the room, had left him and her both listless.
Reveca only stared in response. As the seconds ticked by, as her gaze deflated and filled with misery and defeat, Talon understood what was occurring.
She was waiting for King to pop in—he didn’t.
Meaning her attempt to save him had doomed them all.
Talon was sure of it.
King and Jamison had both said Reveca would have to be with King because her soul chose to be, not out of obligation—that her choice had to be pure. Equivalently, so would King.
Talon was doubting both men now, at the very least he was doubting they knew Reveca at all. She’d always had a knack for breaking every rule and demolishing barriers set before her. The hard way was the only way she knew.
As he laid there and tried to push the violation of her acts out of his mind and breathe in the strength he now had, he did his best to find the best course for him now. A way to save his daughter from the evil her mother had plotted for her to unleash, and a way to save Reveca and his Club from the war that was already brewing.
***
Adair had not stopped shaking. The first place Dagen had taken her to was the hidden library in the Victorian home. She all but beat the boy where he stood. She needed air, and she wasn’t going to get it there.
She needed proof, too, ways to disprove what Jade had said or prove it. It didn’t matter that Talon’s eyes had said it all, it didn’t matter her own gut and memories that were filling in, absorbing her mind, all backed up the notion he was her father.
Savannah. She demanded Dagen take her there. He argued, but ultimately gave in and told her she had fifteen minutes, not a second more, then she was coming back to New Orleans.
Adair only needed five if her memory was spot on. She nodded to agree, and in one beat of her heart he moved her to the woods right outside the log home she had lived in as a girl, to the exact spot she told Dagen to land her.
Adair closed her eyes and breathed in the woods. At one time they were her sanctuary, the only reprieve she had from her grandmother.
The woman was mad—mad as a hatter. And evidently not meant to live in the modern world.
Adair had no idea there was such things as indoor plumbing, water that came from anywhere but a well, central heat and air, or food that was not grown in a garden or hunted until she was eight. That was when the state came, when her grandmother was made to send Adair to attend school.
At school, counselors would ask Adair about her home life, ask if she was safe. Adair was too terrified to tell them she wasn’t. She was living in an alien world. They dressed different and spoke differently from her grandmother—and her grandmother had told Adair they were the devil.
Not once was Adair caressed or held by her grandmother. Her grandmother rarely spoke to her, and when she did, the notion she was a spawn of the devil invariably was somewhere in the commentary.
When Adair did dare to ask her about her parents, her grandmother would tense and then say, “Your father is the devil.” She’d glare at Adair. “Your mother died the moment you came to be.”
Her few sentences were the only family history Adair had. But she did watch her grandmother closely, and she knew each time she asked her about her parents, later in the night, when she thought Adair was sleeping, she’d pull a box down and pull out a ring and time piece and stare at it. Her hands would tremble. And she’d mumble, “I want to go home,” over and over.
Adair watched the box and her grandmother for months. When she was sure she’d never go to the box unless Adair mentioned her parents, Adair stole the contents and ran to the woods.
She’d stare at the pieces and imagine a great, tragic love story between her parents. Sometimes she’d even envision them coming for her.
They never did. The state came and took her to school. And years later, Adair approached a biker and found her way home.
In these woods with her relics and nature all around her, her imagination would run wild. It gave her peace, and enough courage to bury the relics once more and face her life again.
“What are you looking for,” Dagen asked with a curious tilt to his head as he watched Adair use sticks to dig under a rock nudged against a large tree root.
They were a few hundred paces behind the home her grandmother had raised her in. Hearing the impatience in Dagen’s voice reminded Adair of her being out there in the woods and hearing her grandmother’s shrill voice calling her home.
