The Storm Sullivan Saga: The Emerald Seer Series Box Set

by Violet Patterson

  “I’ll handle it.” Angeline winked and jogged into the house.

  Lucian

  Something about Storm’s studio spoke to him. Lucian noted how the Emerald could capture the peculiar angles in everything she painted. Lately her work seemed to tell the story of her travels, different ports and festivals with brilliant colors and smiling faces, as vivid as any photograph. He walked the room, studying each new piece while sipping at a large glass of scotch. Hell, he deserved it. The fire in his throat drowned the burning of the beast and dulling the conflict. He needed a fight or a woman soon. Lucian stopped before one particular piece he never noticed before. It looked to be a small village in Ireland, the water rolling against the cliffs so real he could nearly feel their back spray. He knew the village very well actually.

  1502 – Lucian

  Ireland, the Emerald Isle. It made him ill. The closer they got to the beast the worse it became. He handled it better than the others and for that reason alone he knew the witch and the elders would choose him. Ryder stood at his side for every hunt, long after their brothers tapped out, but he grew weaker by the day and had a wife waiting for him on the other side. Lucian knew it would fall to him, that this would be his burden to bear. They followed the witch, working in circles to corner the thing, hunting it, tracking it but lately Lucian felt like the prey rather than the hunter. He glimpsed the beast full on just once and it looked at him, recognized him somehow but it did not fear him. The thing threw its head back and laughed, a shrill chortling sound that scared off the last pack of Weres participating in the hunt. Morgaine did not miss it. Morgaine, the witch, vilest of her kind and so wretched no coven would claim. They all abided her orders out of pure fear. Lucian knew not what she had done but her reputation preceded her and it was said she’d been involved with Arthur of England. It mattered not. She had been the only witch willing to aide their fight against the Phoenix, the only one capable of quelling and capturing it in the end.

  Ryder had not wanted to join Lucian on this mission, had not wanted any part in it but a deal was a deal. Lucian would help him rope in the newly tapped Immortals, two of them, in exchange for his companionship on this quest. Ryder did not trust the witch. He found it troubling that Morgaine refused to explain the method of entrapment she intended to use on the Phoenix. Lucian shrugged it off, called his friend silly, and pressed on. Only one supernatural settlement remained in the area, worshippers of the Tuatha De, those who wished the ancients to return and walk among them. Following its patterns, Lucian and Morgaine agreed the small village would be the Phoenix’s next target, the only possible option. Ryder spoke against them, something felt wrong he said. Lucian left his friend sleeping in camp while he and Morgaine crept off to ambush the beast.

  Storm

  “Lucian?” How many more times should she say his name? Ryder warned her never to startle Lucian but goodness, he wasn’t responding at all. Storm inhaled and crossed her studio where he stood before the landscape she’d done of Galway. She slipped between him and the painting, smiling as broadly and genially as she could muster. “Lucian?”

  He didn’t budge, his eyes didn’t even flicker. Storm noted how tense his muscles seemed. Dammit. She looked closer into his pupils, no flame. What the hell? Feeling more than a little silly, Storm waved her hand slowly in front of his face. Nothing. Dammit. Okay, seriously, getting more than a little creepy now. Time for more drastic measures. Allowing her power to surface and ripple across her skin like a shield, Storm tugged on Lucian’s arms with a good deal of force. He twisted his arms and latched onto her forearms with his massive hands lifting her off the ground a good foot before realizing who she was.

  “Storm?” Lucian set her down gently and backed up a few steps suddenly appearing a little green around the gills. “What happened?”

  “Uh, I have been trying to get a response from you for a good fifteen minutes. Where were you?” Storm regretted the accusatory tone to her voice but it couldn’t be helped. The power still rippled along her skin keeping her emotions heightened.

  “I was, well, I was remembering.” Lucian sat on one of the many four-legged stools littering her studio, it groaned slightly in protest under his size.

  “If that was a trip down memory lane then I am Lady Gaga. What happened, Lucian?” Storm searched his face, he seemed different, younger but wiser all at once if that could be possible. The observation weighed on her as if some bit of knowledge just barely escaped her conscious mind, bobbing along in her subconscious with enough force to register for a moment and then fade.

  “I really do not know. Honest. I was just looking at your work, you know I find it soothing, and I saw that painting and then you were in front of me. It was as fast as that, the painting looked familiar and I vaguely remembered my time before the beast and then nothing.” Lucian looked her in the eye, his confusion evident. Dammit.

  “We have to do something about the Phoenix. Something is different about you, about it.” Storm walked over to him, laid a hand on his shoulder and smiled as reassuringly as she could. “We will find a way to ease your burden. I owe you that much.”

  Lucian took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “You owe me absolutely nothing. The beast is subdued when I am near you, even more when I am in your studio. And, you make my oldest friend quite happy. I say we are square.” He winked and for a moment Storm almost bought it, almost.

  “It’s worse again, isn’t it. That’s why you stay here more nights than not, why you are continually sparring and training or sitting in here. Don’t lie to me Lucian, I want to help you. What’s the point of having all this power that everybody seems to want when I can’t help the few people I care for?” Wow, that sounded strange coming out of her mouth. Lucian’s eyes flared with surprise. Storm put her hands on her hips and stared at him, “Well? You are my husband’s oldest friend in the world, as you both repeatedly remind me. You have protected me and helped build my nursery. You have held that creature at bay, preventing it from attacking the entire supernatural world, for over five centuries. I think it is about time we find a more permanent solution. Don’t you?”

  “There is nothing to be done, nothing more permanent than me, Storm. The witch saw to that. I should have known she could not be trusted. She paid the price, as did the lot of her line. There are but few of her kin left and I have plans in motion with regard to them when I have a spare moment. In the meantime they can just wait on me.”

  “You sound scary when you talk like that. Why can’t you just let it go? Look at what happened to my line, what is happening to me, and you were all wrong!” Storm couldn’t help it, this issue landed a little too close to home. Still, to save an argument she reined it in and tried a different approach with the Immortal. “Lucian, will you let me do some research and see what I can find out? Give me until the baby comes to find another way. If I can’t find anything then I will gladly help you hunt down the rest of Morgaine’s descendants. Deal?” Not sure if she liked the way his eyes lit up at the mere mention of her helping, Storm took his hand when it was offered. Lucian stood and pulled her up in a hug.

  “There is hope for you yet. I just watched you talk down your emotions more than once and you offered me a worthy compromise which, let’s face it, is quite out of character for you. Very well, I accept. But, I advise you not to share the details of our deal with Ryder, he will not take kindly to the mention of you hunting anything, especially that witch’s offspring.”

  “Don’t worry about me; just don’t let him use that Immortal link thing to pluck it out of your head.” Storm raised an eyebrow, looped her arm in his and led Lucian out of the studio. “Come on, I am sure Ryder has dinner about ready and we figured it would be a good time to bring everybody up to speed.”

  Descending the stairs, Storm heard laughter echoing from the dining room. Lucian chuckled at her side.

  “The Scots are going to be pissed they missed the excitement. Did they even get the furniture finished?”

&n
bsp; “I think you should ask Angeline that question.”

  Ryder

  Preparing dinner for a full house lacked the fun and intimacy of cooking for Storm but it functioned to take his mind off everything else. Few people appreciate the fine timing it takes to prepare a real meal, but Ryder found it invigorating.

  “I think this one needs a bit more pepper.”

  Ryder spun from the sink to find Damarra standing over the stove, lid in hand, inhaling the couscous. She looked up at him, beaming, “I did not know it was possible to startle an Immortal, least of all you. Tell me, dear, how is my Storm?”

  “Damarra? When did you get here?” Not the best cover but by Hades the woman just popped out of nowhere. She stood there, staring at him expectantly. “Oh, right. Storm is doing well. She had a little excitement at the department store today but Angeline handled it.”

  The deity walked around the breakfast bar picking at the remnants Ryder had not used yet. “Yes, but how is she really, dear? Is she showing yet? Has the baby moved? Are you still intimate? Is she happy?”

  Ryder’s head swirled with potential answers, working to avoid embarrassing details. “Well, she seems to be showing a bit but I do not think she has felt anything yet and –“

  “Damarra, I thought I felt you arrive.” Roane walked into the kitchen and Ryder exhaled. Over the last several months, Ryder had come to appreciate Roane, starting with his impeccable timing. “How is dinner coming Ryder? Anything I can do to help?”

  “Certainly. Could you start serving? The roast is ready and the vegetables.” Damarra let her questions drop and floated after Roane with the basket of rolls in her hands.

  Ryder heard the Scots greet Damarra and shortly after that Angeline’s voice carried in from the dining room. Ryder dished up the couscous, inhaled, and added a little pepper as suggested. He pushed through the swinging door as Lucian and Storm entered from the hall. His heart rate sped just a bit at the sight of his wife. Lucian nodded in his direction and escorted her to the other end of the table, opposite Ryder. Storm’s eyes flew wide when she saw Damarra and an uncharacteristic yelp escaped her lips. She nearly threw herself in her grandmother’s arms.

  “Well, hello, dear. I am pleased to see you again as well.”

  Storm

  After twenty odd years of eating in solitude it felt surreal to be dining with an entire table of friends and family. Ryder’s roast ended up tasting even more delectable than it looked and the entire table seemed to share her appetite. With Damarra’s return all worry seemed to wash away for the moment. Lucian resumed his role as life of the party and regaled some of the many adventures he and Ryder had shared. Even her husband joined in, laughing and offering corrections to the tales whenever he felt slighted. She hated for it to end but as with all good things….

  “So, Storm, tell me what happened today at the, what did you call it again, Ryder? A department store?” Damarra’s keen eyes settled on Storm, her expression far more intense than her chiming voice. Dammit. Storm glared at her husband who simply shrugged and looked away. Of course.

  “It was nothing, really. A banshee tried to detain us in a fitting room for some higher faction but Angeline handled it quickly and quietly. We made it back unharmed and with some of the banshee’s hair. No. Big. Deal.” Really, in comparison to her father’s attacks six months ago, today’s incident barely registered on the danger scale. Not that the underlying threat wasn’t real, just that today seemed a half-hearted effort at best even if it were a recon mission.

  “A banshee attempted to hold you, Storm? Really?” Pollux chortled, “Maybe it was just feeling depressed and decided to get creative with its suicide plan. Did you zap it?”

  Angeline backhanded him quick as a snake causing Kell to snicker. “I handled it. Didn’t you hear her? I snapped its neck and tied it up in the fitting room with a nice little warning mark. Don’t be foolish, we’d never kill the thing in such a public manner.”

  Fighting back her own amusement, Storm looked to her grandparents, seated side by side and apparently caressing each other beneath table’s surface. Gross. “Angeline and I were contemplating a few options for the hair she obtained. We could track -“

  “Oh, do not waste your time, dear. That banshee is already dead. Whoever is backing that coven would not suffer such incompetence.” Damarra frowned, an uncharacteristic expression. “Storm, it seems you have gotten yourself in quite the pot. I did not foresee such difficulties for you, so many obstacles to claim your destiny. Your father has muddied your life more than we knew it seems.”

  “What do you mean?” Ryder chimed in. Storm felt his frustration though he maintained a relaxed posture. He really needed to relax, his tension was starting to affect her and it felt like hell.

  “I am glad you asked. That is precisely why I have returned. It appears that my charming son set in motion several different plots in the event any one failed. The Tuatha De are working on him still, trying to discover each one but it has proven more difficult than you can imagine.” Damarra shook her head, “It seems all of the supernatural races are under the impression the Emerald or her offspring will have the capability of reversing whatever curse oppresses them. So, you see, you have many admirers at the moment and that means life is about to get very interesting for all of us.”

  Dammit. Storm’s hands flew to the gentle swell of her abdomen and she felt a tiny flutter, or thought she did. Taking on the entire supernatural world? How would they ever convince everyone she could not do what they asked? Hell, nobody even knew what her child would be capable of. A part of her feared the baby would go mad like her father. Immortals were not meant to have children but being with her altered Ryder somehow. Gods, so many questions. Each time she found an answer to one, a dozen more emerged in its place.

  “So why don’t we publish a bulletin and send emissaries to all of the races to explain the mix up?” Storm looked up and met Kell’s eye. Not a horrible idea.

  Lucian roared, his laughter shaking the table, “Aye, go for it my young Scot. I am surethey will all just say ‘thanks for setting us to the right’ and give up. The word is out that Storm is having Ryder’s child which means some races will believe the Emerald has broken our curse allowing us to reproduce. They will either not trust the anomaly or they will want to harness whatever power the babe may be born with. Beyond that, other races will want the upper hand that would be gained by having their own curses broken. Imagine a world with day-walking vampires or weres who could change at will. No, there is no hope for diplomacy. We need to prepare for the onslaught and handle it as it comes.”

  “I concur. Saddened as I am, there is no hope for diplomacy.” Storm looked to her grandfather, his expression filled with remorse and concern. Roane looked so tired. His affect seemed brighter with Damarra’s presence but even she could not erase the dark circles beneath his eyes. The table fell silent in reflective contemplation until Storm couldn’t tolerate it any further.

  “Enough. I cannot handle any more of this ridiculousness. Let them come. I don’t care. I would love to take on any entity able to breach our defenses. This is maddening. I can handle myself and there are more important things to worry about than who might attack me next.” Storm hadn’t realized the depth of her aggravation until she looked down and saw her hands glowing brightly.

  Angeline cleared her throat, “Damarra, why don’t you join me in the nursery? Kell and Pollux finished the crib and changing table today and I think you will be pleased.” She laid her napkin upon the table and looked meaningfully at Kell. “I am sure the boys will be happy to clean up.”

  “Er, yeah, sure. Pollux, why don’t we clear the table? Thanks for dinner, Ry, it was delicious as always.” The Scots stood and started piling dishes in their arms, occasionally throwing a nervous glance in her direction. Great. Now Kell and Pollux were wary of her. Dammit.

  “Storm, would you care to join me for some fresh air?” Lucian took a last gulp from his wine goblet and looked to her. �
��Ry, Roane, how about it? A little stroll through the orchard?”

  “Actually, I find myself quite curious about the nursery. If you do not mind, I will catch up with Damarra and Angeline.” Roane stood in unison with Storm. He walked over and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Everything will work out. In the end it always does.” Her grandfather disappeared into the hall as the sounds of Kell and Pollux bickering drifted in from the kitchen.

  “Alright, let’s walk.” Storm knew Lucian and Ryder both had plenty to say. She still didn’t feel threatened. Not that she was taking anything lightly where her child was concerned, but come on, Willow Wood had become the Fort Knox of the supernatural world, she couldn’t think of anyone or anything more protected than her at the moment. Not that she appreciated the idea of being on lockdown, but it didn’t have to be that way either. Storm looped an arm around Ryder’s waist, cherishing the electric jolt that came with his touch, and followed Lucian into the orchard.

  “It really is not that bad.” Okay, so she really sounded like a child.

  “Storm, it is that bad. It is worse than that bad.” Lucian plucked an apple off a tree and bit into it. How could he be hungry? He chewed slowly and watched her. She swore the fire flickered again but Lucian just stood there, eating the apple and watching her. Ryder remained silent, his hand settled at the small of her back as they leaned against the old wooden fence. She couldn’t get anything off of Ryder, just images of her, how he saw their child, shadowy figures watching along the edges of each scene. Finally, Ryder exhaled.

  “Tell her, Lucian.”

  Lucian tossed the apple core into the nearest compost barrel. “Storm, most lovely Emerald, the brethren excommunicated all of us. The notices arrived while we were out. They refuse to sanction your union with Ryder and have declared the Scots, Roane, Ryder, and I to be traitors. We are fair game for all races to capture, hold, and torture as they see fit. They have started collecting everybody linked to us and are attempting to shut down Ryder’s businesses as we speak. Fortunately, they cannot touch Durstine since I signed it over to Federick, you remember him, right? The bartender? Since he still lives as a human and never officially became a familiar they cannot touch him without interfering with human law and apparently they are unwilling to go that far - yet. Frederick will settle into the manor within the week but the Scots are going tonight to gather what we need.”