by Jamie Magee
“What happened?”
“He knows Jamison, what’s he going to do to him or me if he figures out about Jamison’s past? What did I start by coming here?”
River was a brilliant girl. She knew if anyone ever challenged Jamison, especially over his girls, there would be more than a war of darkness and light going on.
“Nothing,” Mason said pulling her to his chest. “Nothing is going to happen to you. I won’t let it.” He felt her trembling in his arms. His instinct was telling him to seal her in this room then go have a word or two with Phoenix, but he couldn’t find the will to let her go. The feeling of her body against his was a sensation he would not give up voluntarily.
“No prickles, right? That says you’re safe,” he said as he breathed in her scent, it was so pure, clean, fresh, like a burst of life, the way she always smelled.
She glanced up at him, her eyes had a base of blue, but lavender was swimming within them, meaning her emotions were not balanced, that or she was prepared to fight. Mason hoped that fight was not aimed at him. They were on rocky ground as it was.
“I really never left you did I?” she said almost to herself.
Mason was too much of a coward to ask her if she’d found his note, and he’d manifested inside this room, so he had no way of knowing if it was ripped in pieces on the table out front or not.
“I never really left you…” right then the track to the music turned to, “In the Still of the Night.’
The last time Mason heard the song he was anything but still, they had never come as close to losing their innocence as they were that night they watched that movie for the tenth time, years ago.
His body tensed as the memories flooded him, and his hands ached to fall back into a rhythm that only her and him could ever make.
They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Their souls were pulling them to one another, but their minds were still stuck on the emotions they’d let bubble up the night before.
In some weird, crazy way, he was holding on to his humanity by not throwing her against the wall and having his way with her. Logic, human logic that said you had to evaluate and understand emotions was keeping him nice and blameless right then.
He couldn’t help but wonder how much easier life would have been all along if he had not had that barrier. If he had said screw the emotions that seemed so thick that God himself could not plow through them, and acted on carnal instinct to claim what was his. To claim his soul.
“You want to get out of here?” he asked in a husky voice.
She arched a brow at him.
He guessed that did sound like a bad pick up line you would throw at a girl. “You’ve been down here all day. I want to show you something.”
She reached for the lapels on his suit jacket he still wore. He hadn’t changed since he left the wake. “I don’t know, Wade, am I polished up enough to go where you want to take me?”
That wasn’t a cold remark. She wasn’t throwing Indie in his face again. She meant it; she was out of her comfort zone here.
He vanished from her arms that instant. He went to his room and changed into his everyday clothes. By the time he popped back, she’d reached the doorway and was peeking down the lily pathway he’d made for her.
Mason willed himself to look at the table. The note was gone, and that meant he had to find a way to bring it up at some point, at least ask her if she read it. She turned as if she could feel him behind her.
Her eyes rushed over him, over the library behind him, they were nearly completely lavender at that point. What in the hell did Phoenix say to her? What was firing off in that mind of hers?
“I had to, um, I had something I had to do this morning.” Mason managed to say, trying to explain why he was dressed the way he was before. He wanted her to know that no, his mother had not managed to put him in some ‘monkey suit,’ he was still Mason.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Mason,” she said in a gentle voice as if he were a wounded animal that she didn’t know how to approach. It bothered him because in a way, back then, he had pretty much led her to believe that was the only way to approach him.
“I tried to…” he turned his head away as the night of the accident crashed through his mind.
He didn’t even know why Sophia had followed him into the truck. He blamed himself for that and for not being able to save her.
In the end, Sophia ended up saving them. She told Ben what went down in the truck, which made their family wait a second before they pulled the plug, and that second was long enough for Mason and the others to figure out who they were meant to be. One could argue that none of them would be standing today without what Sophia had done. Today, Gavin, Indie, and Mason honored Sophia like the angel she was.
River reached her hand for Mason’s face, turned him so he had to look in her eyes. They were searching his looking somewhere deep at someone Mason couldn’t even comprehend anymore. “You don’t have to talk about it, whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault. They were lucky to know you, and you will honor them by living the life you still have.”
Those words were meant for more than Sophia, they were meant for Braxton, too. This is why Mason loved River, why he never stopped loving her, why she passed his mind every day. She was real.
She stood on her tiptoes, her lips meeting his chin. That was all she could reach without pulling him down to her. He let out a sigh as his hands reached for hers, he leaned down until their eyes met. “You’re my air.”
She tensed, basically telling him that she had read his note. He couldn’t judge what she thought of those words, he was too scared to try. Instead, he feathered his lips across hers, giving her the most innocent kiss he could manage before he pulled away. “Come on.”
He put his arm around her and started to walk. Apparently, he not only could move at the speed of light, but so could anyone or thing he was touching. They were out of the basement in a heartbeat and at one of the back entrances to the kitchen a few beats later.
Mason wasn’t trying to rush his time with her, not at all. He just didn’t want to cross Gavin, Indie, or anyone else for that matter. He still wanted those two parts of his life to be separate. He wanted River and him to be stable before he put her in a room with people that knew the man he’d become.
Mason pulled her into the mudroom off to the side and started to layer on jackets, scarfs, and a hat. She laughed.
God, I missed that laugh. Mason thought.
“It can’t be that cold outside,” she said.
“You’re from Louisiana, sixty degrees is arctic to you.”
“You have a point,” she said with a sly smile, as she pulled her hat down a little lower, all Mason could do was stare.
“What?”
“Can I kiss you?” he said without a thought.
“Mason Wade just put four layers of clothes on me, and now he wants to kiss me? You were always one who liked a challenge.”
He laughed and so did she. It wasn’t a dismissive laugh; it was the way he laughed with her, their back and forth banter of hers always kept him on his toes, leaving him speechless, to the point where laughter was all that he could manage to produce.
Somewhere in the middle of laughing, he pulled her against him, her snicker stopped but the smile lingered as her lavender eyes dipped down to his lips.
This could not be real. That was what Mason kept telling himself. He was expecting to wake up in a hospital bed at any second and feel the pain of this dream, the pain of knowing he really never got close to her again.
He leaned in and framed her lips with his, pulling them forward before leaning in again, hoping they would open for him, and they did. She was the one that let her tongue slide across his. He couldn’t help but moan into her mouth, and that made her smile. He fought to keep their connection but a second later she pushed back. “It’s hot in here.”
“Yeah, it is,” he said with a genuine smile.
Outside.
He
knew if they didn’t go outside then he was going to lose his control.
He opened the door and snow blew in with the gusty wind from outside. The childlike widening of her stare, and her smile, God that smile, stole his breath.
“This is what we call, snow,” he said with a raised brow.
“You don’t say. Here I thought it was cotton or somethin’.”
“Come on,” he said pulling her against him.
Chapter Sixteen
Indie was starting to think that her office should be renamed the ‘situation room’ because it seemed to be the hub of planning in this war. She arrived right after she’d felt Phoenix’s energy calling out to her, and found him behind her desk trying to work her laptop, which was laughable to say the least. He wasn’t even that big of a fan of electricity.
Apparently, he was looking for a calendar. He wanted to know how fast they could plan a party. If they could have one within the next two days and exactly how many people Indie could get there. If that wasn’t a sudden change of tune, Indie didn’t know what was.
Before he could explain why he had this wild idea, Draven appeared, so did Cashton. Of course, Gavin was shortly behind them all. The doors were sealed by supernatural means so no one could intrude on the meeting. Lavender flames were licking across the walls; you had to really look to see them, but they were there, Phoenix explained that behind such a barrier no human or unwanted paranormal element could eavesdrop.
Acting on what Phoenix had asked about the party, Indie sent an email to Ben telling him that after going to the wake today, and all that she had been through lately, that she wanted to throw a Life party slash early birthday party for herself. Meaning, they were going to celebrate the lives that were lost and the ones they still had. Indie told Ben she wanted it as big as possible, to send out an invite to everyone they knew and to call in the party planners.
She was only grasping half of what Phoenix was saying to the boys during her little escapade of party planning.
What Indie did gather from what the boys were saying was that River was not only confirming what Phoenix had already figured out, but also expanding it. He knew days ago that he should take down a Lord of Death, but which one was the question.
He also knew to do so they would need a catalyst of energy and a place to put the souls, Draven and Cashton and he had been working on all those points. What he didn’t know was that apparently Wilder and whoever was mimicking Cadence had let yet another Lord of Death out of his cage. Oh, and the window to deal with this was closer than he thought. Phoenix mentioned something about a planetary alignment, but the science was lost on Indie.
Phoenix was trying to push their ordeal away from Draven and Guardian’s situation, but they were pretty much lining up, and well, that sucked. It either made them an easy target or thinned them out, one of the two. Indie had no idea which one. She just wanted this to be over.
When her stare did move from her screen, it landed on Cashton. He calm and reserved; yet he had a wit about him she adored. In a way, he reminded her of Phoenix, or rather Sebastian, the way he was on the other side.
Indie was judging his every response, even though the popular vote seemed to be to take down Lord Camlin, he never wavered with laying out the plan to do so. His stance on the matter struck Indie as odd because that meant she was choosing to set Skylynn free instead of him this go around.
It didn’t feel right to Indie.
She realized Phoenix was making efforts to ensure anger was not her dominant emotion once her transformation was complete, but in a way she thought he’d managed to make her sensitive to lovers, meaning she didn’t want anyone to endure the absence they’d felt, or rather she wanted everyone to feel the passion they felt. Which really didn’t help with the decision between Skylynn and Cashton. It made it harder because both of them were separated from the one they shared their soul with, the one who would ensure their ultimate survival in this war.
Indie moved from behind her desk and walked to the open window and gazed out at the grounds as her thoughts jarred wistfully around.
She owed Skylynn, but at the same time Skylynn had yet to sway her in this battle plan. State her desire.
Indie had called out to her a thousand times over; as of late she was impossible to reach. The one time she did see her she simply told her to make sure River had what she needed to decode the books in the hidden library. That was it. No, ‘I got you out, now help me’. No, look her in her eye, no body language, nothing.
Where was the king I’m supposed to take down in all of this? Who was the King of Grief in the first place, and while we’re on the topic of missing people—where is Wilder.
Indie’s gut told her Cadence wasn’t even the big bad Escort in the last go round, that it was him. Which really made her feel like a fool. It made her skin crawl actually.
Outside her window, in the distance on the snowy grounds Indie saw a sight that made her forget she was in the ‘situation room’. It was Mason and River. They were running through the snow having one hell of a snowball fight. The pair of them were laughing, really laughing. A ghost of a grin skirted across Indie’s lips for more than one reason.
First and foremost it was because she’d never seen Mason laugh like he was then, never seen the look in his eyes. All of his reservations were gone. Secondly, Skylynn told her to make sure River had what she needed to go through the text. Indie was sure getting over the twisted past would do nothing but help River.
Phoenix had said Indie’s name a time or two, and when she didn’t respond, he appeared at her side to see what had taken her attention.
A proud smirk came to Phoenix as he watched River run from Mason only for him to appear in front of her, catch her, then spin them around. Mason leaned in for a slow kiss but right before their lips touched he brought handfuls of snow to her face, then he ran, or pretended to run, basically he let her retaliate.
Phoenix nodded his head, the lavender flames in the room reached out to surround the yard where they were playing in the snow.
Indie glanced up to question him.
“Privacy. No more males,” he said quietly.
“That’s a risk?”
“No sense in throwing it in anyone’s face,” he said as his gray eyes moved to the brick wall, to where the dead were, and apparently an Escort ex of Rivers. “Love, how many people can we expect?” he asked, that was the same question he’d asked a few times before Indie ever heard.
She edged over to her laptop and scanned the last few emails that had popped up. “The invite has been out for all of twenty minutes and we have four hundred confirmed. We’re going to have to open up all of the lower level, maybe put a shelter of some sort outside. I don’t want the upper levels used. Is that enough?” Indie had to admit she was pretty shocked by the number, this party was going to fall on a Monday night, not really a night you planned on whooping it up.
Phoenix and the others seemed to doubt what she thought was an impressive guest list was enough. “If it helps half of these are from school, higher energy, younger.”
“We need a bigger catalyst,” Phoenix said with a glance to Draven, then Cashton. Who were both lingering in the chairs before Indie’s desk, looking equally lethal and calm.
“Do you think that deal Guardian is doing would help you?” Indie asked.
Indie gathered that Guardian was battling a prophecy that was set in place eternities before, one that once again placed his life at risk. What was burning Phoenix was he couldn’t figure out how to protect his brother and deal with what was going on at the manor at the same time.
“It might. We have to meet up with him in a few hours,” he said with a glance to Draven as if to remind him.
“Entertainment,” Indie said as she read the title of the next email aloud. “I’m guessing an Orchestra might not be what you boys were looking for? It has a twenties theme. If that even matters when it comes to the music.”
Indie glanced up from her laptop to see bo
th Draven and Cashton leaned back in their chairs, each donning smiles on their face. Her stare shifted between the pair of them. “You play?” Even if they did they were going to be a little too busy to perform, at least that is how Indie saw it.
“You could say that,” Draven said in a deep, hypnotic voice.
“That’s not going to work, mate, will it? You need a band,” Phoenix said.
“You want to perform at this party, but do not have a band,” Indie said with a lifted brow.
“I do have one,” Draven said leaning forward,” But I’ve been advised that if my drummer is anywhere near your shadowed soul it might not play out so hot.”
“You’re drummer? Your twin. Aden?”
One nod.
“I see.”
Right as Indie went to suggest that Mason play for him, Phoenix shook his head silently telling Indie that Mason was going to have to be with her.
“Who played with you last go ‘round? They still ‘round?” Phoenix asked.
Draven nodded to Indie’s phone. “Can I borrow that, let me see what I can set up.”
“Are you planning on calling another dimension there, buddy?”
He leered and so did Cashton. “Na, this dimension is my home. I have family not too far from here.”
Phoenix’s eyes shifted between them.
“What?” Indie asked.
Phoenix leaned against the desk. “All of them were born here.”
“All of who?” Indie asked, apparently she wasn’t the only one who found this interesting, even Gavin looked up from the text he was reading.
“River said: the isolated one, that births queens. The manor landed in this dimension because of that, the dimension was hidden back then. Willow, Guardian’s girl, was born here last go round,” he glanced to Indie. “And so were you, love.”
Draven spoke up, “So was Charlie, and Madison.”
Indie didn’t know who Madison was, but she knew Charlie was Draven’s soul mate—which made her his Queen.
This revelation was a bit unnerving to Indie, making this prophecy of war, of Rapture, even more real.
