by Amy Freeman
At first only agonizing silence.
Trin!
His eyes flew open. He took off toward the restroom halfway down the hall on the left and pulled the door open. She sat huddled in a corner on the floor. She looked up finding his magnificent frame filling the doorway; angelic face colored in self-reproach.
She started to cry. He raced to the corner dropping to her side, wrapping his arms around her, crushing her to his bare chest. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.” He kissed her lips, then her cheek, and held her tight. “It’s okay. You’re safe now,” he whispered. “I’ll explain everything. I promise.”
Sam trembled in his arms. “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” she said. “I feel like I’m going insane.”
Trin pulled her closer, tucking her head beneath his chin. “I won’t let him hurt you.”
“Who?” she begged. “Please tell me. I need to know.”
“Let’s get you out of here and I’ll explain everything.”
An anxious look shot across her face.
“He’s gone,” he said. “You’re safe.” With an arm around her shoulder, he took her hand, trying to help her to her feet.
“Wait,” she said, pulling at the ribbon on her pointe shoes.
“What?”
“I can’t wear these outside.”
Without another word he grabbed her bag, scooping her up in his arms. She thought about arguing as he made his way to the door, but exhaustion won out, his chest and arms so massive around her. She felt tiny...and very safe. She rested her head against him, slipping an arm around his neck. He reached the door and paused. “Hey,” he said.
She looked up at him.
“Nice work.”
She squinted in confusion.
“You responded when I called.”
She paused a moment, then smiled.
He kissed her forehead and carried her out the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
T rin pushed the door open and guided Sam through it. She was on her feet again, warm up pants and shoes thrown on during the ride over, but she was still visibly shaken and hadn’t said a word.
Adam stood in the kitchen with a concerned expression on his face. “Everything okay?”
Trin nodded in his direction, guiding Sam to his bedroom. She walked in and went straight for his bed. Trin headed past Adam for the fridge, grabbing a water bottle.
“What the hell happened?” Adam asked.
Trin paused, eyes on the floor. “I’m not sure yet,” he muttered. It wasn’t a lie. She hadn’t told him anything yet.
“Dude, you took off like someone was dying.”
Trin eyed his bedroom door. “Yeah. I might be a while.”
Adam went back to what he was doing with a sly grin. “Take your time, bro.”
Walking into his bedroom, he found Sam fast asleep on his bed. He watched her, a gamut of emotion churning through him. Setting the water on his desk, he climbed on the bed behind her pulling her close. She stirred but didn’t wake.
The room filled with golden blue light. Trin carefully sat up, staring at Anvil with chagrin. “I really messed up.”
Anvil moved toward the bed. “Quite the contrary, you showed an enormous amount of restraint.”
“It wasn’t enough.”
Anvil sat at the corner. “This was inevitable,” he said. “But now it’s done and there is no reason not to move forward.”
“I plan to tell her everything when she wakes up.”
Anvil’s gaze dropped to Sam and he froze, his features sinking in haunted dismay. “What is it?” Trin asked.
For a moment Anvil couldn’t speak. “She looks like Anavi.”
Trin sat up a bit, eyes on Anvil. He looked at Sam. He was right. In the midst of all the chaos Trin had never noticed, but the resemblance was uncanny. Before he could respond, Sam began to stir, nestling into Trin’s body. Her eyes fluttered open, Anvil directly in her line of sight. She drew in a sharp terrified breath, turning, grabbing at Trin in a panic.
“Sam!” Trin’s muscled arms clamped down around hers in a solid restraint. “Sam, you’re safe. He isn’t going to hurt you.” He forced her around in his iron hold. Sam had no choice but to look. She had never felt such physical strength and she allowed a brief moment to be glad he was on her side.
“Look at his aura, Sam.”
Wild eyed, she stared at the stunning warrior at the foot of the bed, who watched with intense compassion. Remarkable energy radiated around him, just like Trin’s. Her fearful expression softened as she drew in breath.
His voice spilled out like velvet. “It’s alright,” he said in a thick Russian accent. “No one here will hurt you. You are safe.”
The sound calmed her frantic nerves, flowing through her in molten waves. Golden blue light danced around him. “You’re one of them,” she said.
Trin extended a hand. “Sam, this is Anvil. He’s my spirit guide.”
Sam turned in confusion. He lifted the delicate gold plate connecting the chain on his wrist and turned it, exposing the inscription. “This says Veduny,” he said. “It’s who we are.”
Sam stared. “Say it again.”
Trin repeated the word, and Sam sat back. “That’s the word,” she said. “That’s the other word he said...the guy who attacked me that night.”
Trin’s eyes glinted, unsurprised. “Veduny is an ancient Slavic word,” he said. “It means ‘knowing ones’.”
Sam looked back to Anvil, who sensed her bewilderment. “We are human,” he said. “But we come into the world knowing how to access power all humans beings have, but most choose to ignore. We are what humanity is capable of becoming. Our mission is to teach them to let go of fear and hatred.” The warrior’s expression grew solemn “The amount of negativity produced by humanity has put them in great peril...peril they cannot conceive of. It is fuel for a formidable force and the amount of hatred and pain generated has captured the attention of this dark deity—our enemy, Chernobog.
Sam glanced at Trin, trying to process what she was hearing.
Anvil continued. “In 1212 a sacrificial murder was committed, orchestrated by the demon. This created a portal for him to cross into this world. His only objective is to enter in and harness the negativity humanity sows. Our creators, the Divinity sent us to stop him. Gea, the first Oracle of our tribe sealed the portal. We stand guard. Our biggest responsibility is to prevent his crossing, and to change the way humanity thinks—to deplete the power source he seeks here. The great monoliths you see are the guardians of our tribe. They cover our village in a protective barrier and maintain a positive energetic alignment with the Divinity. The demon has already mastered manipulation of human thought and emotion. We are only stronger because we live in flesh, something he wants and must have in order to overpower us. We stay one step ahead of him by heeding guidance from our Oracle. But she was taken from us a century ago. Without her we are blind. We have no direct line of communication to our creators. We cannot effectively protect humanity or ourselves without the Oracle power. Trinton’s mission is to restore it.”
Sam glanced at Trin, eyes wide. She turned back to Anvil. “What happened?”
“One of our leaders turned against us—my twin brother, Ashbel. My wife’s name is Anavi. When she was born, the Keeper’s aura sealed on me, but an identical aura sealed on my brother as well. This had never happened before,” he said. “No one knew what it meant. To this day we still don’t know why. Our Head Elder told us we were forbidden to know—that it would disrupt our paths, that we were both to begin training and that Anavi, when she came of age, would have to choose between us.” Anvil’s eyes grew distant. “She chose me,” he said. “My brother killed her.”
Sam gasped, heart dropping through her stomach.
“He disappeared that night,” Anvil said. “We didn’t see him again...until recently.” He lifted his wrist to reveal a gemstone on a bracelet nearly identical to Trin’s. “This stone is Ale
xandrite,” he said. “It is very powerful. The portal we guard is filled with it. The Seven monoliths are filled with it. It is a gem of dual properties—positive and negative power,” he said. “Our leaders wear it to maintain a positive output resultant of what we represent. But if the stone is used for dark purposes a negative channel opens. We protect it, keeping it out of the wrong hands. But without a functioning Oracle we cannot know if it has been breached. My brother has resurfaced. We cannot track him and we don’t know his intent. But we do know he is hunting,” he said. “It was my brother who attacked you. He is hunting you.”
Sam shook her head. “What? I don’t understand.”
Anvil looked at Trin, who shifted in his seat to face Sam more fully.
“The Veduny head is always a pair,” Trin said, “one man and one woman. There are always two. A sacred rite ignites the Oracle’s power. The two are foreordained by the Divinity and have additional skills the other tribal members do not have. The man’s gift enables him to effectively protect his charge, the female—his soul mate. He is the tribal Keeper.”
Sam grew very still.
“The woman’s gift is always earth.”
Sam’s breath caught in her throat as he continued. “That’s the way it has always been. The pair ignites and maintains this communication throughout their lifetime. The power of the Oracle remains intact as long as one of the Veduny pair is still living.”
Trin hesitated. “The death of the last remaining leader aligns with the birth of the new Oracle. It always occurs simultaneously.” Trin gestured toward Anvil. “Anvil was Keeper before me. He passed away nineteen years ago, August the twenty-first.”
Sam couldn’t move, her heart racing as the date, her birthday, fell from his lips.
“The moment the Veduny Oracle enters the world the aura of Keeper seals on her mate. The Keeper’s aura sealed on me when I was two years old, nineteen years ago, on August the twenty-first,” Trin said. “You are the Oracle of the Veduny tribe, Sam, and I am your Keeper.”
Sam trembled, head shaking as she absorbed the sheer impossibility of his words.
Trin leaned in, insistent. “Sam, we were there the night you were attacked—Anvil and I. I felt it happen and we arrived too late. That’s how I knew you were finally close. The closer you are to me the more visible you are to all of us—bad guys included. It was never the campus that set all this in motion for you; it was your close proximity to me. Ashbel called you by tribal name. The Russian you heard means ‘I am everywhere, Veduny’. He was taunting you. He called you Veduny because that’s what you are.”
“That’s not possible,” she whispered. “I’m not Russian. I can’t do any of the things you do.”
“We don’t know why you’re here instead of there,” he said. “But it doesn’t change who you are.” He took her shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. “Sam, you think I don’t know? You think I made a mistake? Explain what you and I feel every time we touch. That’s not average chemistry.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I pay attention,” he said. “I always have. I have lived my whole life in anticipation of finding you,” he said. “You’ve been invisible to all of us because you never use your gifts. I have spent the past weeks searching for you. I came to this university because I was told I would find you here. Never in the history of our people has the Keeper had to find the Oracle, ever. She is always born in Russia, in the tribe, visible to everyone.”
He glanced away in conflict, searching for the right words and looked back at her. “A lot of women have put their hands on me,” he said, eyes gleaming. “I paid attention to every one. Not a single one even came close. You shattered me.” He shook his head, still confounded at the affect she had on him. “I know,” he said, “and so do you.”
Sam’s heart burned. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so willing to be exposed when she knew he had the power to blind her. His usual impenetrable guard had evaporated. He grasped her hand in his, igniting the overwhelming sensual pull that always accompanied their touch. “You tell me I’m wrong,” his glorious face avid; decadent eyes blazing.
Sam’s heart pounded in her chest, unequivocal truth pulsating through her. Lifting the hand he had forced her to take she could find no words.
He directed her to the mirror against the far wall. “Have you ever seen that strain of gold in anyone else, aside from me?” he pointed at Anvil, “Or him?”
Sam had always wondered why her aura looked the way it did. Never in her whole life had anyone else ever emanated this unique golden element, until now, until these two men.
She stopped cold. “The woman I saw,” she looked at Trin. “I told you, remember? She has the same aura.”
He sat back, then looked at Anvil.
“The woman you saw is my wife,” Anvil said. “She is your predecessor. I am not surprised she tried to reach you,” he said. “She tries to reach me too...”
“But she can’t,” Sam said.
Anvil shook his head.
“I see the same thing,” Sam said.
“We don’t know why she can’t get through,” Anvil said. “But I am convinced it has something to do with Ashbel and what he did. Llamar, our predecessor, saw changes in him during training as he grew. I saw them as well. He became rebellious, prideful. Ashbel had gifts we had never seen before. He felt sure this was a sign the Keeper’s mantle should be his. He was furious when Anavi chose me, and he disappeared. The night after our wedding I left to go find him.” Anvil’s expression grew distant. “The earth shook,” he said looking past Sam into nothing. “She was trying to reach me. Anavi was a skilled fighter—very powerful. I shielded her and the entire castle before I left. We don’t know how he disabled her so effectively. She has been unreachable since that night. He has severed the conduit and taken her away. Before I passed, she would appear sometimes in my dreams, trying to communicate. But even now, in spirit form, I cannot find her.” Sam’s heart ached at Anvil’s words. Constant unspeakable suffering lay silenced behind the visage and duties of a beautiful, strong warrior.
“We don’t know where Ashbel is,” he said. “We don’t know how he has done what he has done. The Oracle shouldn’t have severed with Anavi’s death. It should have lived on in me. But it didn’t. He managed to disable and kill one of our most powerful leaders, and he obliterated our communication with the Divinity. He did it all very quickly and then he vanished. He is extremely dangerous. None of us know the extent of his powers,” he said. He looked firmly at Sam. “If you have seen him coming for you, then he is close.”
“Wait,” Sam said.
Trin glanced sideways at her. “What is it?”
“It wasn’t Ashbel in the studio with me today.”
The two men exchanged a glance. “What do you mean it wasn’t Ashbel? You said you saw him,” Trin said.
“I did, but it was just a flash image of him and Anvil, nothing more.”
Trin squinted. “This person you saw...he fits Ashbel’s description.”
Sam shook her head.
Trin stared. “Who did you see?”
Just then there was a knock at his door. Trin glanced toward it and then to Anvil. There was a verbal exchange of clipped Russian between them and Anvil turned to Sam. “You stay with Trinton and do whatever he counsels. He will take care of you, you are his life. You always have been.”
Sam watched, stunned as he disappeared. Glancing down at the bed she tried to compose herself as Trin stood, crossing the room. He cracked the door open, Adam’s muffled voice sounding behind it. “Sorry, bro. She’s looking for Sam.”
Trin opened the door. “It’s okay,” he said, motioning to the concerned girl behind Adam. “Hey, Erika,” he said. “Come on in.”
“I’m really sorry to bug you,” she said. She saw Sam on the bed, noticed she had been crying, and raced over, sitting down next to her. “Sam, what’s wrong?” she begged. She turned to Trin, desperate for an answer.
�
��I’m fine,” Sam interjected. “I’m pretty sure I had a panic attack. Trin came to get me. I’m fine, really.”
Concern colored Erika’s features. “Do you get panic attacks?”
“No,” she replied, carefully monitoring her fabrication. “I just can’t imagine what else it would have been. I couldn’t catch my breath. I’m sure it’s just stress.”
Erika looked from Sam to Trin, who gave her a quick, though not thoroughly convincing smile.
“I’m fine,” Sam reiterated. “Really, don’t worry about me.”
Erika shrugged. “Okay.”
Sam changed the subject. “Did you guys get anything done?” she asked. “Did I totally freak everyone out? Am I fired?”
Erika laughed. “Yeah, that’ll happen. You’re the best dancer we have.” She glanced down. “Jana did make me your understudy.”
Sam smiled. “That is awesome, Erika. You are so talented. I’ll try to break a leg or something.”
“Don’t say that!” Erika said. “I was just thrilled she thinks I’m good enough to cover for you, you know? I was totally surprised.” She flushed, looking down. She had been wearing a dance sweater in class that fully covered her back, but she now wore a hooded jacket that hung loosely about her shoulders. Trin inclined his head, staring at her neck, then crossed the room in one swift move. Lifting the fabric away, he uncovered an ugly bruise across her left scapulae.
Erika froze. She glanced at Sam, who was confused until she saw Trin’s face. Erika turned around, eyes on Trin ready with an explanation. She opened her mouth, but Trin cut her off. “Your boy is right-handed,” he said. His eyes were like ice.
Sam leaned forward over Erika’s shoulder pushing her jacket away. Erika winced in pain. Sam stared in horror at the massive bruise.
Erika sat motionless on the bed.
Sam sat back down in front of her. “What happened?”
Erika looked at the floor as she spoke, avoiding eye contact. “Nothing,” she responded, fidgeting. “It was an accident.” She stood. “I should go.”
