Crimson Cove

by Eden Butler

  He silenced me then, large hands covering my face, his forehead against mine. “I don’t care what they want.”

  He smelled so good, his skin was so hot, all that delicious sensation distracted me, tempted me not to walk away. “Bane, I’m not going to let you sacrifice the future of your coven, of the Cove, for me.”

  “Why?” he said, looking down at me with one hand pressed against the wall. “I didn’t ask for this. None of it. I never wanted for any of this to be my responsibility.”

  “It doesn’t matter if you wanted it or not. It’s here. You can’t walk away.” I hated the truth of the moment, how he closed his eyes, how he looked so eager to ignore the reality of our lives. The Elam was still missing. The Cove was still threatened and Bane and I had spent the better part of the night forgetting about our mission. It wasn’t fair, but then what the hell is?

  “I would,” he said, voice still soft. “I’d walk away in a second if I could have you.”

  “You can’t…”

  The quick rapt of knuckles on the door interrupted me and I frowned when Bane walked away. He moved his head toward the handle, then worked his jaw again.

  “Trevor,” he told me, nodding for me to finish dressing.

  “Wonderful.” The bubble disintegrated in my hurry to shimmy into my jeans and the disappearance of all of Bane’s lovely inked skin when he covered it with his shirt.

  “He isn’t alone.” Bane tilted his head, seeming to pick up another signature on the other side of the rattling door.

  “What?” But I didn’t need to ask who Trevor had with him. I’d know that energy anywhere and grunted as Bane swung open the door, my shoulders falling when Trevor and my brother walked inside.

  “Nice sleep over?” Trevor asked, moving his gaze around the room as though he looked for some evidence of our activities.

  “What do you want?” Bane said, fastening his belt as his cousin and Sam walked further into the tiny cabin.

  “Change in plans,” Sam said, casting a side long glance at how close Bane stood next to me. I hadn’t even picked up on it, but didn’t let my brother’s judgmental look make me self-conscious.

  “Beckerman is calling in the big boys.” Trevor spoke to Bane, barely glancing my way when I folded my arms to combat the chill I felt. The wizard managed one long, slow look over at me before he returned his attention to Bane. “We need you in the Cove to help distract the mortals before the state troopers and feds are called in.”

  “Can’t Papa…”

  “He’s over his head with this one,” Sam said, interrupting me. “Ivy wants answers and is beginning to resist the compulsion charms. We can’t manage to convince him that things aren’t as they seem. Whoever stole the Elam is leveling up.” My brother paused, squinting as he watched the way Bane moved his hand to my lower back. “Someone set Batty’s bar on fire last night and it spread through the town. They’re targeting our family, Jani, and the Grant’s.”

  That hand on my back smoothed over my exposed skin and I swear I felt the smallest buzz of energy moving from Bane’s fingertips to my back, but then Trevor spoke, giving Bane a look that seemed baiting, possibly a bit judgmental and he crossed his arms, taking that small warmth from me.

  “You’re to come with me and help with the mortals,” Trevor said, slapping Bane on the shoulder. “Sam will go with Jani toward the Elam on the trail.”

  How did this happen? Two minutes before he was inside me. Three minutes before that we were in our own world free from obligation and responsibility and the people who loved to control us. We had spent the night forgetting, just for a little while about who we were and what we wanted. It was a small reprieve from the expectations that clouded our lives, not something to repeat but as Bane dressed and we busied ourselves with preparing to leave, I still felt the small flicker of his stare, that heat that was never too far from me anytime I was around him.

  “Your fiancé is worried about you, cousin,” Trevor said, and I caught Bane’s low grunt as they moved toward the door. Then Bane stopped to look at me and there was something in that expression that told me goodbye was the last thing on his mind. It lasted only a second, but if felt significant; something I’d store away like all my frayed memories.

  Behind the closing door, Bane and Trevor’s voices trailed off into the distance as Sam and I prepared to leave. “What were you thinking?” my brother asked me.

  For a few seconds, my gaze unfocused at that closed door, another small reprieve I wanted to keep before reality crashed back on my shoulders. “Don’t start with the interrogations, Sam. It’s not the time.”

  When I shuffled my bag over my shoulder and headed toward the door, my brother stopped me, grabbing my arm. “Does he know?”

  “What?”

  The pressure on my arm wasn’t tight, but was constrictive as Sam stared down at me. “Did you tell him? About the block? Did you remove it?”

  They thought I was careless. My family thought I was selfish and irresponsible and that little stunt at eighteen had haunted me for ten years. Removing the block would have been a mistake, no matter how badly I wanted to do it. But it wouldn’t remove the danger from the situation. It wouldn’t restore the Elam and it would only make Bane hate me sooner. That was coming, but I wouldn’t hurry it along. “Don’t be stupid. Of course I didn’t.”

  Something in my brother’s gaze eased the tension in my chest. Of everyone, Sam understood wanting to let the old ways go. He hated that one of his best friends was stuck marrying a witch he didn’t love. Sam hated that we still had to hide from the mortals. But he knew what was at stake. He knew the danger we were all in and I saw that emotion shifting his expression, making that hard frown dim.

  Sometimes we see outside of ourselves. Sometimes there are moments so profound that it’s like we’re watching them from another vantage point, from someone else’s body. That’s how the next few minutes played out to me.

  There was no forethought to what happened next. There was no preparation.

  Sam stood in front of me, blocking my view of the door. He stared down at me so that his attention was on me. The cabin itself was small, the area around it filling with the noises of the woods and the animals and insects that went on living and being without any commentary from us. And the lines, those taunting, loud lines that Bane had managed to block from me somewhat still sung low and sweet, teasing, taunting so that it became part of the environmental elements that kept my attention distracted.

  “Look, this entire situation is shit, Jani. You think I don’t get that? And I don’t want to add pressure to an already tense situation, but it’s not the time for you to make confessions.”

  “Which is why I didn’t open my mouth.” Sam released me and I stepped back, ready to get on the trail and forget everything that had happened in this cabin. “I told you that.”

  “You know I would never…”

  Our words kept us distracted from the rustle of feet outside of the cabin.

  “Sam, leave it.” I glared at him, closing my eyes before the practiced monologue came out. It’s the same one I gave him time and again over the years.

  Distracted from the creak of the door opening.

  “I didn’t tell Bane about spelling his memory ten years ago. I didn’t tell him a damn thing about us melding.”

  Distracted from Bane walking through that door, and not prepared for that rough, heavy wave of anger that shot across the cabin and landed straight in the center of my chest.

  “What did you say?” Bane’s question came out like the crack of a whip—disbelieving, mimicking the anger and pain that brightened his face as he stood in front of me.

  “Man, listen…” But Bane shook his head, silencing my brother immediately. One nod toward the door and Bane dismissed Sam—a silent demand that he leave us alone.

  “I am not letting you at my sister.”

  He blinked, seeming astounded that Sam wouldn’t cave to him.

  “Sammy, it’s okay.”
When I shook my head, my brother finally stepped back, watching Bane as he stared at me, seeing, like me, that quiet fury reddening his skin.

  It took several moments for Sam to leave the cabin, a few more for me to work up the nerve to turn and face Bane and when I did, his raw fury threatened to topple me.

  “We melded?” His voice was calm. Too calm and that rush of energy from his body rose, threatening to slam into me as I stepped back. “And you blocked my memory?” When I didn’t answer, Bane took a step, one slow tap of his boot along the floor before he pinned me against the wall with his large hands on either side of my face. “The truth. Now.”

  “We don’t have time for this.”

  My distraction didn’t work. Nothing would. Bane had been lied to. Bane had been betrayed. It had been necessary, but the look in his eyes, that wide astonishment, the disgust I saw there hurt worse than walking away from him had.

  “We claimed each other,” he said, his voice small and bullet hard. Next to my head, Bane curled one hand into a fist and the small pulse of energy from it crackled against the wall. “All this time it was us.”

  “I didn’t have a choice, Bane. It’s not how things should have played out.”

  He didn’t buy it, not if that frown meant anything. Bane shook his head as he watched me but his eyes had gone dull, dispassionate. “You let them convince you to change my memories? You’d do that? To me?”

  “It was for the good of the Cove.”

  He slammed his fist against the wall and small bits of wood splintered into my hair. “Bullshit, Jani. That’s…that’s bullshit.”

  I wished I could erase that expression from his face. I wished I could have seeped into his mind and laid another block, layered something sweet, something real over the truth. But I couldn’t. Even if I had the power, Bane would have never let me inside his head. Not anymore.

  As he watched me, looking deceived, looking as though he’d never seen the real me, ever, I had another of those outside-of-myself moments. I floated above us, looking down as Bane glared, as his gaze moved around my features as though he would never see them again. I watched him, watched myself and could nearly make out the thick weight of tension that flitted between us. The heat, the anger, the rage all mixed and pulsed together with the lingering scent of sex and the memory of what we’d done in that room just a short time before. It was an intoxicating brew that made my head feel weighted and my heart heavy. When Bane stepped back, taking his gaze from my features and his warmth from the room, I came back to myself and jumped into that crumbling body as it fell to the floor.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was like a song I only half remembered. So clear, so haunting and all I needed was to float toward it, feel it, touch it, hold that power in the palm of my hands. If I’d only reach the Elam, secure it, then I could be rid of the guilt I felt. Restoring the Cove to the way things were before I came here would make things right. Bane would have his place in the coven leadership and my family would no longer have to struggle the effect of the lies and damage Ronan had caused.

  So I followed the simple, sweet song that called me forward as Sam and I left the cabin and the night behind us as it led me to the Elam.

  “Something is off here, Jani, can’t you feel it?””

  “No,” I told my brother, too distracted by the song, by the pull of that energy as we climbed into the deepest part of the wood. “No, I don’t feel anything but the Elam.”

  Distantly, I knew he was right. There was something off, something that did not fit together as it should. The air felt too thin up there on the hill. The maples around us were too still. But I could no more give attention to the things that were not right than I could ignore that song pulling me close.

  “Jani, maybe we should call Papa. Maybe he can twist a spell that…” my brother’s suggestion died quickly, silenced by the loud rattle of an explosion and billowing smoke that arose from the town. We couldn’t see anything but the smoke rising, despite Sam dragging me near the ridge to look down into the valley toward the groves. There was nothing but the empty woods and the rustle of branches within them. “Fire?” he asked, already moving down the trail.

  “Dunno. Probably.” My skin felt dry, itched as though the Elam knew we were walking away from it and protested by thinning the air even further. “Sam, we’re close.”

  “Yeah,” he said, but didn’t look at me, kept his attention on the empty ridge and the sirens that began to sound. “Probably just…”

  “Go check it if you want. You can get a signal from the cabin. It’s not that far away.”

  “And leave you on your own?”

  “What’s going to hurt me out here? I’m protected by the lines and anyone who wants me needs me so there’s nothing to worry over. Go,” I nodded toward the trail, knowing it wouldn’t take much for my brother to quell his curiosity. “I’ll be fine.”

  Sam looked at me for a long time then. It reminded me of the day I arrived home after our mother died. It was a look of apology but Sam had nothing to apologize for. He’d taken me on the trail because I was his sister. He’d leave because he knew I could handle myself. Still, the frown he gave me was too stiff; the low lidded cast of his eyes was too apologetic. I’d never seen my brother looking so ashamed.

  “What?” I asked him, eager to put some distance behind me.

  “I just…” Sam stopped, glancing once more down the trail as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I hate that you got stuck in the middle of this. Again.”

  “It’s what I do, big brother. Straighten out the messes.”

  “Hey, Jani, I don’t want…” but what Sam didn’t want, I never found out. Yet another explosion sounded behind him and he lowered his shoulders, nodding once before he ran down the trail toward the cabin. “I’ll be back,” he said over his shoulder, but I knew he wouldn’t. At least, I knew I wouldn’t wait for him.

  I was close to the Elam and the further into the woods I walked, the louder that sweet song sounded.

  The wood broke up then, just a few feet further and the pulse of the Elam grew even stronger. It felt like pure energy, something that tinkled against my skin and made my flesh pimple. Sound went numb and I could only make out the low hum around me as I walked close toward a small outcropping of trees circling a bare patch of grass and there, lying in the center, all alone on the ground, was the Elam.

  It pulsed and hummed the closer I walked toward it, singing sweetly, like a lover I’d forgotten I’d had and wanted again. I wanted to touch it, take it, keep it with me always. The stone was a brilliant turquoise shaped like a strong, fine tortoise and it would fit perfect in the center of my hand. I just knew it would be smooth to the touch, warm as I held my open hand over the top of it. It was mine, somehow merely looking at it told me as such. All I had to do was pick it up, grip it once and claim it. No one else would dare touch it once it was mine. Stretching my fingers towards it, I noticed the fine, small hairs on my arm standing up and a small brush of chill peppering around my wrist. Nearly there, nearly mine.

  But, like most things I wanted, it was out of my reach. Suddenly I was on the ground with some smelly, heavy weight pinning my hands at my side. “Don’t you damn well touch that thing.”

  “Damn, woman, don’t you recognize a thrall when you see it?”

  Until Hamill said it, I actually hadn’t known the thrall for what it was. Feeling stupid, I stepped out of his grip, moving back into the wooded area of the forest and away from the Elam on the ground.

  “That obvious and I missed it.”

  “It happens,” Hamill said, leaning against a tree, winded. Almost perversely, he pulled a crumpled pack from his pocket and withdrew a cigarette; his long fingers were narrow and smudged at the tips, stained with tobacco. “You can’t know what it is when it happens. Not always.” He lit his cigarette, taking a long drag as he watched me. “Why’d you take off?”

  “You threatened me.” When he didn’t react to my accusation, I kept explaini
ng. “I might miss when something is enthralled but I don’t miss when someone hates me and my family and wants to do us harm.” Feeling a little calmer, somewhat more relaxed, I stood in front of Hamill. “I wasn’t going to stick around and wait for you to attack.”

  Hamill was cool then, smooth, taking his time with his cigarette, inhaling deep and releasing his smoke through his nose as though he needed a second to figure me out. “Don’t recall threatening you.”

  “You said…”

  “What I said was, ‘If I could, I’d rip you all to pieces.’ There’s a difference to what I think should happen and what I’d actually do.”

  “Why?” Hamill didn’t stop smoking, didn’t even pause as I stepped closer. “What did we ever do to you?”

  He took a second to spit on the ground next to my foot and when he spoke, his words were weighted, as though he hadn’t gotten rid of all the phlegm in his throat. “Your father is responsible for my cousin being in jail.” Hamill flicked his spent cigarette on the ground, stomping on it as he walked toward me. “Ronnie’s a good shifter, just ran with the wrong crowd, and when he got pissed drunk and passed out at a fire—stuck in his wolf form—and then woke up to the cops asking questions, well, your father couldn’t get him out of it. That’s what he’s supposed to do, isn’t it? Get us out of tight spots?”

  It was an assumption everyone made. My father’s business was smoothing over messy situations to keep the mortals ignorant. It wasn’t his job to cover up for idiots who couldn’t control themselves. “No, Hamill, that’s not what he does and if your cousin was too stupid to keep away from mortals when he shifts or when he drinks, then he deserves to be in jail.”

  “Say that again, woman,” Hamill said, darting toward me. There was a wicked shake to his hand and small wild glint in his eyes. “I fucking dare you.”