The Storm Sullivan Saga: The Emerald Seer Series Box Set

by Violet Patterson

  Storm shifted uncomfortably, feeling for the truth of the situation. Olivia tugged at her arm, “I think we should trust her.” Storm looked down at the younger woman, fear and frustration warring in her clear eyes. The young woman nodded encouragingly, her eyes flicking to the creature claiming to be Morgaine. Storm forced her emotions aside, her thoughts and the thoughts of those she cared about. Dammit. She was not remotely prepared for this. Storm took another deep breath, forced the emotions into one unified purpose, something she’d been practicing with the Phoenix and Sophia on the sly. Breathing and channeling the Phoenix had said, they really needed to give her a name already, stop, focus, breathe and channel, channel and breathe, feel for the truth. It came to her, like an old movie reel, the images to support Morgaine’s claims. Not even the Unseen could fool Storm when she focused, that’s what the Phoenix said. Storm exhaled one long, slow breath and opened her eyes. The witch Morgaine stood a few feet from her smiling and beckoning.

  “Impressive, Emerald. You are learning to channel your powers.” Morgaine beckoned again, “Please, follow me to the others, we have little time. Do not let your guard down for we know not how many of the enemy remain.”

  Storm kept a portion of her channeled power in the palm of her hand and took Olivia’s wrist with the other. “Was it Rosalee?”

  “Yes and no. It was a version of that witchling – warped and twisted with darkness. You would not likely have known her if you’d seen her.” Morgaine did not look back but continued forward, traversing the pockmarked terrain, kicking body parts and limbs out of the way as she went.

  “What is she?” Storm figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask, bypass some of the research and cut to the chase.

  “A daemon. There is another word in the old tongue I believe but most written works refer to the creature as a daemon.” Morgaine came to a stop before a massive boulder and turned to face Storm. “I cannot go further, this is the doorway to the others. Ask your questions but be quick for they are weary and you cannot linger long in this realm while you have her.” Morgaine rapped on the stone lightly and stepped back. “Farewell, Emerald. I hope to see you again in this life or the next.” The witch raised a hand in farewell and vanished.

  Olivia nudged Storm and pointed at the rock which had transformed into an elaborate stone doorway. “It’s really quite lovely, isn’t it?”

  Storm studied the doorway, intricately carved with runes and Celtic-like symbols she almost recognized. There were no hinges or doorknobs but a large emerald was inlaid where a peep hole might have been. “Well, let’s see what happens.” Storm knocked on the door but nothing happened. Then the emerald started to glow. She reached up and touched it lightly causing the door to swing open. With Olivia on her heels, Storm crossed over the threshold and into the arms of her grandmother.

  Ryder

  “Once this wing is done we will need some volunteers to go to the store, preferably a mixture of soldiers and supernats.” Lucian wiped his brow and leaned against the door jamb casually.

  “Agreed. Would you organize that with Dorian’s captain? I think it best to send the shifters, if Frederick is up to it.” Ryder glanced down the hall again. Storm was clearly up to something dangerous since Trin had sent the angels to help but the infuriating specter refused to give up any information other than a warning to stay out of the study. It was driving him mad.

  “She will be just fine. You have to let her fly sometimes, brother. She is your mate, not your child. Sometimes I think you forget that.” Lucian frowned. “And don’t think I am not worried about Sophia –“

  “It is different and you know it, Luc.” Ryder glared. “Storm is like a child with her powers and even if she were not pregnant she would be impulsive and headstrong. Sophia is reserved and logical with the added benefit of the Phoenix to keep her in check.”

  “And both Sophia and the blasted beast are in the study with her. Do you think that creature would let harm come to Storm? No. She will be just fine.” Lucian stood tall, exerting his extra body mass as he was wont to do. Ryder knew well enough to leave it be or they would end up in a fist fight and then there would be hell to pay when something ended up broken.

  “I will always worry after her, Luc. Always.” Ryder looked once more down the hall before walking in the opposite direction. Lucian did not follow. At the end of the hall stood a massive bookcase half empty but for the massive dust bunnies and a dozen or so books. Running his fingers over the edge of the middle shelf, Ryder’s hand stopped before one particularly worn volume that seemed out of place. Withdrawing it gently, Ryder blew the excess dust from the cover and flipped it open. A brilliant green inscription glittered on the title page as if the ink were still wet.

  Trin, may you find the strength to do what is necessary when destiny calls upon you. D

  Ryder flipped through the book to the halfway point before slamming it closed, the knowledge too much for him to take at the moment. Everything Trin had done was laid out, planned out well before she was born it seemed. All of the hatred and resentment he carried melted away as Ryder realized that Trin Sullivan had been as much of a pawn as the rest of them, perhaps more so than all of them put together. She sacrificed herself after bearing Storm’s powers for half a lifetime. What kind of reward was that? What would it mean for Storm? A sense of foreboding crept in and settled into the back of Ryder’s mind, an unwelcome sinking feeling that his mate would suffer a similarly tragic fate. No. He would never let that happen. Their children would be born and raised with a mother, with their mother, and he would do whatever it took to make that happen. Fates be damned he would save his wife. Ryder slammed the book back on the shelf, turned on his heel and strode back down the hallway. He and Lucian would be going to the store – and making an extra stop along the way.

  Roane

  He felt her presence as soon as she returned but kept working as though he did not. Damarra stood off in the distance for some time. Still, Roane did not look up. The anger and resentment hung like a heavy chain about his neck and shoulders but he could not relinquish it – or would not, perhaps. At this point he did not care to differentiate. Even when she stood beside him, her gown blowing into his peripheral vision, Roane did not acknowledge her.

  “How long do you intend to ignore me?” Her voice trickled across his ears like a timeless melody, striking all the right chords along the way.

  Avoiding eye contact, Roane set his tools aside, brushed off his leggings and stood to face the tree line opposite where she stood. He could not look at her yet.

  “Look at me, Immortal.” Though clearly a command, Damarra’s voice remained soft and full of affection.

  “I am sorry that I cannot give you what you wish for.” Roane forced back the lump in his throat, a feeling even worse than the anger.

  “It matters not what I wish or what you believe in this matter. Let us go inside and lie together. I just want you to hold me right now, my love.” Damarra’s warm hand nearly seared the skin on his forearm but Roane did not recoil.

  “I am your love now?” Roane forced away the urge to cringe at his harsh tone.

  “Of course. You doubt that even now, Immortal?”

  “I doubt it always, Damarra. You have not spoken of such things, used such affections before. You come and go as you like and ask things of me that I cannot give you. How is that love? How is that good for either of us?” Roane finally looked over his shoulder at the petite deity.

  “It is new to me as well, Immortal. You are new and old to me all at once. And this, all of this is written in our destinies. None of it is what I want or need. It just is. You must accept this as I have.” Damarra frowned, the creases marring her beauty just slightly.

  “So we have no say in any of this? Everything is predestined? What is the point of it then?” Suddenly, and for the first time in his long life, Roane questioned his entire existence and dreaded living through all the ages of the world.

  “I did not say that. You must know that some
things are going to happen no matter what choices one makes.” Damarra tilted her head slightly to the side, her expression thoughtful and surprisingly alert.

  “I fail to see the distinction.” Roane watched her eyes whirl in the dim light.

  “Do you wish to stand out here and discuss the meaning of our existences?” Her mouth turned up at the corner to form a wry smile. Roane’s resolve complete disintegrated in the innocence of that particular expression. Though she’d lived for ages of this world and others, Damarra remained childlike in many ways. His many objections pushed aside for the moment, Roane swept Damarra into his arms and carried her over the threshold with a flourish.

  Storm

  For a few moments in her grandmother’s arms, Storm forgot about her troubles. She flashed back to the many times she dreamed of such moments as a child, wished for a real grandmother to hold her in such a way and assure of her value. When at last they withdrew, Storm felt surprisingly peaceful.

  “You look radiant, dear.” Damarra smiled proudly. “Come, we have little time.”

  Storm felt a tug at her arm and remembered Olivia. “Grandmother, I’d like you to meet Angeline’s younger sister, Olivia. I brought her here to be read by the Tuatha de and –“

  “Yes, we are all aware, dear. Quite ingenious on your part; I am certain you inherited that from me.” Damarra took Olivia by the arm and pulled them both toward a door that appeared in the wall of the small, strange room. “Come, they are waiting.”

  They stepped through the doorway into a vast, octagonal room unlike any Storm had ever seen yet somehow familiar to her. She spun around in an attempt to take in everything on the walls and ceiling but found it utterly impossible. Portraits, maps, and murals covered every inch of wall and ceiling space except for the two enormous hearths on opposite ends of the room. Storm swore that some of the pictures moved as if they were movies instead of pictures but she did not have time to verify.

  “Welcome, Emerald, to our safe haven. In time it will be yours.” A tiny, spritely looking male stepped into her line of vision, straining on his tip toes to look her in the eye. His pupils were large and rimmed in silver but not cold or unkind. He rocked back on his heels and Storm realized the small man stood nearly a head shorter than she. “I am Credne.” From behind his back, Credne produced a silver locket and presented it to Storm. He stepped aside to face Olivia and held his closed fist before her. “For you, young one.” Olivia held out her own hand, palm up and accepted Credne’s gift.

  “Thank you.” Olivia’s voice cracked but nobody seemed to notice.

  “It was blessed by the Tuatha de. Keep it close and you will find your way through the darkest of places.” Credne nodded his head to each of them and withdrew.

  “Where are the others?” Storm realized that other than the busy walls and the four of them the massive room remained empty.

  Damarra frowned. “Many are injured and weak so they took to their respective havens to heal, dear. The battle was harder than expected once the unnatural thing came. But that does not matter. You came for a reading and a reading you shall have.” Damarra looked toward the hearth nearest them and whispered in the old tongue. From the flames emerged a woman, plump with white hair and unseeing eyes. She seemed to glide their way, a calm expression on her face.

  “Storm, meet Almha, my oldest friend and voice of the Tuatha de. She will read the girl.” Damarra looped her arm through Almha’s. “Almha, this is my granddaughter, the Emerald Seer.”

  “You are lovely, child. Your girls will be quite beautiful as well. We are very proud of all you have accomplished.” Almha nodded approvingly and turned to Olivia. Though clearly blind, her milky white eyes seemed to see everything. “Welcome, Olivia Corsova. It is wonderful to meet you again. Will you accept my reading?”

  Storm looked to Olivia as she nodded silently to the ancient goddess. Her heart went out to the young woman. This was a lot for Storm to handle and she’d known about supernats and deities her entire life.

  “Very well. Step forward, young one.” Almha held her hands up between them, palms facing Olivia. The young woman stepped forward and touched palms with the goddess. Storm and Damarra moved away giving them fairly wide berth. Almha began to mutter in the ancient language, her eyes closed. The reading went on for several minutes, longer than any Storm had ever witnessed, but she took advantage of the situation to study the unusual room in which she found herself. The flooring was hardwood but covered in a mish mash of woven rugs that overlapped in some places as if somebody tried to force them all to fit. It reminded her of an extravagant patchwork quilt she’d seen once before in a gypsy’s tent. Where the floor and wall met, Storm noted the baseboards were intricately carved with ancient symbols, only a few of which she recognized at first glance. Her eyes traveled up the far wall which was filled with evenly spaced cherry wood frames in a grid-like pattern. Some of them contained paintings but more than half were empty, showing naught but blank canvases. Storm fought the urge to drift over to the wall, remembering her true purpose in the room, but something seemed so familiar about the paintings.

  “That is our story, dear. From the first time I saw Roane up through yesterday. The blank frames represent the story yet to be told. Those canvasses cannot rely on anything that has been forseen, only what has happened.” Damarra looped her arm around Storm’s waist and whispered softly in her ear, barely audible. “This is your safe haven, or will be when the time comes. It exists out of time and space for now but will one day be anchored to a realm again.”

  Storm began to ask one of her many blossoming questions when Almha stepped away from Olivia with a soft pop as their connection was severed. Olivia looked surprisingly serene and somehow a bit older. She stood, smiling contentedly and quite at ease in comparison to how she’d arrived. Almha spoke first, a slightly puzzled expression on her face, her white eyes whirling as if trying to see something further. “This one is difficult, many futures are still possible. Before, there were two, now there are more. However, all possibilities begin with one particular choice. If she chooses to follow the Emerald willing then the battle will be great but she may survive it. With our blessing and the innate power in her blood, this young one could be trained to fight.” Almha sighed, a silvery tear rolled down her cheek. “Should she waiver or side with the Unseen, the girl cannot survive the year.” Almha fell silent, tilted her head as if listening and then smiled, an eerie, Chesire cat-like grin. “I concede to give her my blessing if she chooses the Emerald and pledges herself here and now.”

  Credne emerged from the shadows. “I too will offer my blessing to the girl should she choose the Emerald.”

  All eyes turned to Olivia and again, Storm’s heart went out to the young woman. Damarra must have heard Storm’s thoughts for she stepped toward Olivia and took the girl’s hands in hers. “Child, the choice must be yours. With our blessings you will stand a chance but we cannot offer you protection if the chance remains you will turn on my Storm.”

  “There is no choice. I am not evil. I will of course –“ Olivia’s word were cut off but Damarra’s fingers on her lips.

  “You must understand, dear, this is not a matter of good versus evil. Of course we believe we are good and right but the Unseen and his followers believe they are just as righteous.” Damarra’s words rang clear through the room, reminding Storm of words Aunt Trin had spoken many times during her childhood.

  “There is a price with each choice, girl. I must warn you that there is always a price to be paid in these matters.” Sadness flickered across Almha’s face as two more tear drops loosed down her cheeks. Storm noted that Credne swept a shimmering tear from his own cheek.

  “What is the price? What must she pay?” Storm felt a sick, sinking feeling in her stomach and a tickle of understanding in the back of her mind.

  “A sacrifice. Either way, Emerald or Unseen, there will be a sacrifice. A payment to hold the balance between the sides. That is her purpose, to tip the scales so far to o
ne side that they will be forced to reset.” Almha’s unseeing eyes roved over Storm. “She bears the mark of our White Lady but within her heart resides the mark of the scales, the equalizer. This girl, Olivia Corsova, will level the battle field with her choice. In the end, the actions of the Emerald and the Unseen himself will determine the victor.”

  “I don’t understand.” Olivia’s composure began to slip. “Shane said the Unseen can use me to rise again and –“

  “The Unseen can use one of many vessels to rise. He wants you for your unique abilities though. He believes there is something truly unique about you, something that will give him the edge he has sought for many centuries. The Unseen has watched and waited for you specifically though he knows not why. The Tuatha de planted many things and hid many more away. By allowing him to fixate on you, Olivia, he has remained blind to the others like you allowing us to protect them all far more easily. The angel did not lie, you could be used but you are not the only one who can resurrect the Unseen. You are however the only one who can bring about balance once more and that makes you unique and necessary.”

  “So even if we protect Olivia, the Unseen can use others to rise?” Storm frowned. How would they track all of the possible vessels in time to protect them?

  “The Unseen will rise, Emerald. There is no doubt in that. But because of the actions of so many, least of all Angeline and Olivia, the Unseen will be forced to use the vessel of our choosing. There is only one remaining vessel in your realm and the Unseen’s minions should be collecting him shortly.” Credne interjected with a somber tone. “It was forseen long ago by the Tuatha De who were too weakened by the last war to finish him. This is why you were created, why your army has been brought together and built through the ages to finish him. We have all had to resort to alternative methods”