by Jamie Magee
A shiver ran down her spine, and as out of control as she felt just then she took a second to have gratitude for the simple fact she escaped the hell she was born into.
“An anchor,” she answered when Dagen not only asked again but knelt down to help her dig.
“And why do we need this anchor?” Dagen asked, glancing around, reassuring himself she was as safe as she could be now. The clock was ticking, though.
Right then Adair unearthed a small box. Tears prickled her eyes as she remembered how frail and broken she was the last time she had seen the box. She was so lost and confused. In all truth, daily, she yearned for death.
With trembling hands she opened the box and pulled out the timepiece she had wrapped in a cloth along with a ring.
Her trembling fingertips traced across the Sons emblem of the pentagram, snake, and crow and the words inscribed, Immortal passion my gift to you, V. Along with the wide silver ring inscribed with, No last ride, we are eternal, V.
Adair could recall every daydream she had ever had about her parents, how much passion and love she thought they had by reading these inscriptions. And now on this humid, southern night, the dreams went up in flames. If any of what Jade said was true, Talon could have never loved her mother—he was Reveca’s.
Fear slid through Adair. Now her daydreams told her Talon had stepped out, conceived her, and Reveca killed her mother out of jealousy.
Reveca didn’t know about Adair—Adair was sure of it. Jade shocked the entire room with her sly words.
“She’s going to kill me,” Adair said in a ghost of a whisper as she gripped her treasures.
“Who?” Dagen asked, pulling Adair up. He was ready to get her back. His hand carefully swayed across her back when he felt her tremble.
Dagen had known many woman throughout his life, but very few he had respected as much as Adair. The girl knew how to take a punch. Hours ago she woke from a deep sleep and had no memory, and now all the emotions she once had were hers again coupled with a revelation that came under the oddest of circumstances.
She was a warrior at heart, one Dagen was proud to serve as a protector to.
“Reveca.”
“I doubt it,” Dagen said quietly as he tried not to smile. To say the least, it would be unnatural for Reveca to lay a false hand on Adair, and if somehow Reveca overpowered the unexplainable bond Sovereign Goddesses have with their creations, King would never allow it.
Then again, Adair’s fear had a right to exist. Reveca had no idea who or what she was, and neither did Adair. Right now they could only see what was in front of them—the Pentacle Sons MC and their laws.
It wasn’t Dagen’s place or honor to tell Adair of her legacy, so his half smirk and tender sway of his hand was the best he could offer at the moment.
Adair looked right at him. “She killed my mother, didn’t she?”
Dagen moved his head to the side. He was bound to silence, but the pleading look in Adair’s gaze begged him to speak. “You can’t kill the dead, Adair.”
Adair sucked in a deep breath, assuming her grandmother did at least speak one truth—her mother died in childbirth.
In her hands she clutched her treasures. “Take me to the Cauldron.”
“I’m good with going there—but not with you whacking out some spell. Adair, I think you need to take a breath, calm down, process this. ”
“I’m not processing shit! I’m finding my own proof. I’m sick of these fucked mind games!”
Right then King and Judge emerged from the darkness, like dark angels intent on protecting their charge.
Adair let out a curse full of the fear and anxiety she was surely feeling.
***
Judge was prepared to curse her very soul for seducing Talon, of all people, until the moment he realized where he was. The rage washed from his expression as a painful nostalgia hit him like a ton of bricks.
He wasn’t there when Talley saved Adair’s life. But not long after he and Adair starting dating, Talley and Judge had ridden here, and he’d told the story to Judge. He laid out the life Adair came from, and the life Finley had instilled within her.
“She was born for greatness, Judge,” Talley’s gruff voice said as he sat astride his bike and stared at the dark log home.
Judge’s fists were clenching his handlebars, rage boiling in his blood. He wanted to strangle anyone or anything who’d ever hurt Adair. It sickened him to know she’d felt terror as a child.
“The trials of hell should not come with the fate of greatness,” Judge said as evenly as possible.
“There will be more to come.”
Judge looked sharply to his side at Talley, his brother in arms, a man he’d honored and respected long before he took Adair as his own.
“I vow to you—nothing will ever hurt her.”
Talley looked down, drew in deep breath. When it left his lips, a smile threatened to emerge. “You’re in love with a witch, son. A fated love, no doubt.”
Judge was taken aback for a moment. Talley was a black and white kind of guy. There was no fate in his book. It happened because it wanted to, not because it was destined, at least he was like that up until he met Finley. For the most part he was still a man’s man, but every once in a while, like the very moment they were in, you could tell he loved a witch, one who made him see the world anew.
Talley nodded once, answering Judge’s stare. “She’s yours, Judge. We’ve known this for some time now.”
“We?”
Talley hesitated for a moment. “Finley, me.” He grinned. “It’s not my point. My point is she’s more than I can explain to you, more than I understand, and because she is, she will be tested. It’s the conflict that gives her strength.”
“I’m not letting this life we have hurt her. I can keep her out, just like you kept Finley out.”
“I didn’t keep her out, Judge. I let her live the way she wanted. If you love a woman like Finley, like Adair, you have to give them freedom and you have to trust them when what they say makes no sense at all.” He grinned. “They have their own Church, and when they take you there, well, you’ll never be the same again.”
“I’m going to love her right, Talley. I vow it.”
Talley looked over him at length, then said, “The greatest honor I was ever given was to raise her, protect her. I made a vow, and now I ask you to do the same. Vow to me, no matter the circumstance, you’d lay your life down for her—defend her. Avenge her and, listen, breathe her in, son. She’s your salvation.”
“I vow it,” Judge said without a second thought.
Then and now there was nothing he wouldn’t do for Adair.
~
“Now!” Adair yelled, clutching Dagen.
And just like that Judge’s nostalgic memory was shattered as he watched Dagen vanish with Adair before his very eyes.
Chapter Three
Earlier, Dagen only offered King a waning glance before he had vanished with Adair. He knew King was pissed; mad he found Adair and him outside of New Orleans, but all Dagen had to do was share one glance with King to say a million things.
His one look said, ‘She needed this, I had it under control.’
King’s barely noticeable nod said he understood.
As they vanished, they only barely heard Judge’s unholy protests.
The Cauldron was dark when they arrived, completely shut down, but the sounds of the streets, the life of the Quarter was apparent. As always there were low candles burning each with their own intent, mainly to cleanse or repel evil.
Adair let out a calm breath. There was nothing like seeing a place that was familiar to you after a long absence, or after a tragedy. In some way she was recovering from both.
It didn’t matter she and Jade had all but had a witch war behind these walls, or that Miriam sat primly at her side, knowing all the while she was toying with a man Adair had fallen for. This was the place Finley raised her, a place where she learned her craft.
“
King is only going to stall him for a moment,” Dagen warned.
An ironic arch of her brow was the only expression Adair offered. “You mean the great King can’t handle Judge?”
In all truth King could have stalled Judge for centuries to come if the thought crossed his mind, but Dagen knew King’s goal was for Judge and Adair to get over this split they had going on. He’d let them fight out this last upset just to put it behind them all.
“No. King knows what’s best for you and right now you need Judge.” The boy needs you, Dagen thought. Judge was equal to a ticking time bomb at the moment.
“Why? So he can strip my memory of tonight? Or so he can put me in my place like a good Ol’ Man?”
“Seriously, can you pick a new argument? This one has been on repeat for a hot second. You have your memory back.”
Adair didn’t say anything as she set her treasures on her portable altar and pulled together every element she needed for the unveiling spell she knew.
Her silence was mainly because she knew he was right. No matter how twisted she was, a large part of her was reaching for something familiar, safe. With her memories and emotions surfacing with each second that passed she knew Judge was both. At the same time, there was time and strife between them now. And that was before tonight. Adair shivered at the thought of what Miriam was pushing her to do. If there was ever a memory that needed to be deleted…
She’d thought to use the spell she was conjuring for this very reason the moment Finley had taught it to her. Two things had stopped her. One, going back to where she buried the treasure was a terrifying notion. Secondly, she was too in love with her life to discover who her birth parents were—the thought of not having Talley and Finley in her life was downright sickening.
Adair jerked her gaze up. All at once the tips of her fingers had all but turned to ice. A warning sign she’d grown use to.
She glanced at Dagen. He was staring off into the distance, the blue of his eyes dimmed. He was aware but distracted.
“What’s wrong?”
Dagen knew King was out front and he knew Judge was with him. The distance they had was due to King. He’d convinced Judge to give Adair space, a bit of breathing room to do whatever spell she was aimed to do.
“You love a witch, you love their ways,” King had said to Judge as he gripped his arm. Oddly the simple words broke through Judge’s anger and he agreed to wait. Currently he was prowling like a lion back and forth, his sharp stare casually taking in the environment. Like a skilled solider he was looking for threats, he was looking for the safest escape route.
Dagen could not only sense, but also hear Judge asking King, “You feel that?”
There was a presence, one Judge was feeling as well as Adair, but what was causing them alarm was not what was unnerving Dagen or King for that matter.
Energy among the Helco Faction was a shared bank of wealth. Because Dagen had all but ruled the Faction in King’s absence, at all times he was aware of any loss, a noticeable absence of vim.
In a way it helped him keep his people safe. He knew when they were hurt, when they were in danger. Before this gift of awareness he was always aware of King’s energy, any threat to him—it was Dagen’s job to protect King. Right now both of Dagen’s warning senses were going off simultaneously.
Reveca had been added to the wealth of energy and power the moment her and King consummated their love affair. Reveca and King were arguably one.
Right then, Dagen was sure Reveca was losing energy. At the very least emotion was ripping her open.
Under the circumstances, some loss was expected, but not this much. Dagen had caught King’s stare through the storefront. He was going to give King a nod and tell him he could handle both Judge and Adair on his own so King could go to Reveca’s side.
What he saw in King’s eyes was not a bow out. He was fierce and defensive as ever. Absolute in the fact he was not going anywhere.
Adair had begun her spell, fire was twirling on the altar before her. Her attention was divided though—as it should be. The presence she sensed was drawing closer.
Right as Dagen heard a roar, Judge broke through the front door. He was halfway through the store before the back door was broken through and Talley emerged, beastly as ever.
Adair gasped, frozen, unsure if she should use all the magic and power around her to subdue him or run.
Run.
Dagen made the choice.
Right as Talley slashed forward, he grasped her and her altar and vanished.
“Where are we?” Adair asked, looking at the aged books around her. Her heart was thundering so violently she was sure it would burst from her chest.
This entire night, from the moment she rose from a deep sleep drenched with desire to this point had been a wild ferocious ride that felt like a nightmare. Go home, Murphy’s Law—you’re drunk.
From behind her in a deep, barely controlled tone Judge said, “Saige’s home, Garden district—take us to the fucking Boneyard!”
Adair jarred forward, not expecting his voice, then glared over her shoulder at him. There was no telling where his loyalty would lie. Adair had three versions of him in her mind—the before, after, and now. Every one those versions were loyal to his Club, clearly more so than his lover. Fuck you, Miriam! Why did you have to dick around with him! “She’ll kill me,” Adair said, referring to Reveca of course. In her mind Miriam was a whoring joke.
“I’ll be damned!” Judge snapped. “What the hell Adair—Talon? You remember everything and you go to Talon!”
Adair felt her stomach twist. They’d never understand why she did what she did. She seriously doubted she would have done more than hold Talon down while he dreamed, but she wasn’t about to explain herself to him—or anyone for that matter. Not when she could see Miriam’s long ghostly white legs snaking around Judge’s waist in her mind’s eye.
Tears prickled the corners of her eyes. All she wanted to do was save Talon, so he’d help her save Talley—allow him to find the energy he needed in Zen. Now in hindsight, the wretched feeling in her gut told her she was a fool.
She had no idea how to save him or her at this point. In all truth, as weak as he was, as mad as Reveca was—Talon could be dead already.
Adair drew her hand to her mouth, hoping it would stop the sick feeling, the desperate spinning sensation she felt.
It didn’t.
Out of control was not her game. She was a seer, at least in a manner of speaking. She always had time to digest the waves of life before they struck—not with this, though. Hell. She was in hell.
Control. Knowledge. She needed them both and this spell would at the very least give her a truth. What she would do with the truth she had no idea. Run, yeah, that was what a logical soul would do—too bad Adair had given up on the comforts of logic the moment her dead stepfather attacked her.
She turned her head back to the altar. She wasn’t sure if it was the fire before her or the distance between her and Talley, but the tips of her fingers warmed.
With her energy she lifted the timepiece and the ring and glided them through the fire chanting quiet words under her breath.
From the corner of her eye she watched Judge flinch, even reach for the pieces, but he halted. Across an exhale she thought she heard him say, “Impossible,” but she wasn’t sure and she wasn’t going to ask.
If there were truth to Jade’s words it would rock Judge’s world, too, maybe more so than Adair’s. She never knew of her parents. Judge had lived lifetimes with Reveca and Talon.
***
Sure Adair was captivated by her spell and Judge was entranced with her, Dagen approached King.
“I got this, go,” he said in a harsh whisper.
“No.”
“King, I’m all for being the bigger man but you let Reveca in this Faction—I’ll be damned if I let her drain us dry over a mood swing!”
The look King gave him would have killed weaker men. Dagen held his ground, though.
He was a blunt son of a bitch. This wait and see, keep your mouth shut game King asked him to play was weighing on him. Not to mention the fact he had zero tolerance when it came to anyone or anything hurting King—he’d lost him once, he’d be damned if it happened again. Too many people counted on him.
“I told you what mattered,” King growled.
Dagen’s sharp gaze shifted to Adair and then back to King. He had told Dagen what mattered. The progenies of King, a secret army birthed by nothing short of a miracle. They were the tomorrow the Helco Faction needed.
“Are you doubting I can protect Adair?”
If so, it was the lowest of insults King could have delivered to his first in command. It was an honor to watch over Adair, and as far as Dagen was concerned he’d done exactly as he was ordered to do when it came to the likes of her and Gwinn.
“No.”
“What then? I get it has to be legit between you and Reveca, not forced, but you have to at least let the girl know you give a damn.”
What he didn’t get was King had pushed Talon to hurt Reveca, or rather his presence allowed Zale and Jamison to clearly explain to Talon how much danger Reveca and all those she created were in.
Because of King, Talon all but stabbed Reveca in the heart—she was nowhere near recovered from his actions or the shock of King himself being alive.
And now this.
“Do I?” King said right as they both felt the inevitable. It was no longer a question—Reveca wasn’t expelling energy out of the Faction due to emotion, she was giving it. And the way she was giving it was blinded to Dagen, meaning only one thing. An erotic surge.
Rage. Dagen felt it for his boy, for what he knew was occurring.
“You’re going to stand here? Let it be!”
King stoically moved his gaze to Adair. “It’s not what you think.” If it was he’d be long gone. He would have taken Gwinn and Adair and all those who he knew belonged to him and vanished, set up shop dimensions away.
