by Jamie Magee
“She pulled my kut, squeezed it in her hands, and said, ‘You have a bike.’ I nodded and she told me to get her out of there.”
“Those damn kuts, they’re like catnip,” Reveca said with a wink. She was still not sure how much trust she should give him, but her gut was telling her he deserved it all.
Cashton laughed, a deep meaningful laugh. “Maybe.” He shook his head. “We rode. For hours. It was freezing but every time I stopped she told me to go on. She buried her head against my back, and held me. She was running from something, some kind of pain. And I knew it.
“When I dropped her off that night her friends were waiting. I’d spent hours with her and we had barely said a word.
“I had to leave after that night, and when I came back it was a few nights in before she showed up at the bar, and she didn’t show up until the end of the set. She nodded her head toward the door. She wanted another ride and I wanted to feel her cling to me.”
“Did you talk to her that night?”
“Not really, or the few times after. It was more of the same. Once the holidays were over, well into the first of the year, that grief she had seemed to fade, like whatever was making her mourn had passed. We started stopping on our rides, by the river, any other stop we could find on the highway. We talked about current things. Or she did. School, her friends. I listened.”
“She didn’t ask why you vanished for weeks at a time or how you ended up with the Sons?” Reveca said with a lifted brow, clearly telling him that should have struck him as odd.
“A little, but not much. We both have these barriers. She has this past she doesn’t want to talk about, and so do I. So we stay current.”
“You think this girl is some kind of soul mate to you, she makes you hum, you see her skin glow, but you don’t tell each other anything—there is no depth, you’re not sharing anything?”
“I don’t think, I know, and I’m just taking my time with it. Each time I’m back it gets better. I finally figured out where she lived, well, where she lives when she’s not on campus. We’ve hung out with her friends a few times, nothing heavy. I’ll figure out how to ask her what she’s getting over.” He rushed his fingers through his hair. “Each time I go back to the Veil, walk around that home, I try to remember if I already know—if I saw her going through some hell and that’s why I charged through, if that is why I’m stuck here.”
“This girl. Are her eyes like diamonds, blue and gray? Does she have long, dark hair, one long strand of blonde on her left side…small…tends to smile and have a lot of energy?”
Cashton looked to his side swiftly. “You have been stalking me.”
No, but she was sure Cashton and maybe this girl had been set up, and it was made to look like it was some kind of fate. The Sons only went to bars that Jamison owned. That way if there was any trouble, anything at all, Jamison could cover it up.
Saige asking Reveca to harbor Cashton, all but promised that one night Cashton would show up in one of those bars with the boys. From there Cashton was given a reason to surface on the regular, a place to play. No doubt Jamison’s daughter, at her age, would also surface in the bar he was in. Made to look random, in reality anything but.
Reveca moved her head side to side. “You heard us speak of Jamison.”
“Coven leader,” Cashton said. “Everyone thinks Saige is his sister but she’s yours.”
Reveca let her stare tell him yes. “And he has a daughter…Raven. One I just described to you. I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“Neither do I,” Cashton said with wide eyes. “What the hell does this mean, Reveca?”
“I don’t know, but we’re going to have to figure it out. Saige is just as powerful as me but in different avenues. She could have figured out that you are this girl’s soul mate or whatever, used some locator spell to find you.”
“Why?”
“Coupling. It’s a powerful practice in my old world. It’s not odd for Jamison to want to seek that out for his own daughter.”
“He knows I’m from another reality though?” Cashton said.
“Somehow I don’t think that would be a farfetched idea for him to grasp,” Reveca said thinking of Lorecan, her past with Jamison, and Saige. “Not as far as it would be for me to grasp. It’s not my faith, Cashton.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“I believe that you believe this. And that’s just fine. You just need to know that you’re dating a wickedly powerful coven leader’s daughter. That comes with way more hell than the Sons could ever bring your way.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean others, enemies of the Sons, saw your bike out in front of Jamison’s house, and they are capable of creating mirages. I would hope that Jamison has prepped Raven for that risk, but it might be best if you and this girl have some kind of code, some way for her to know it really is you before she takes off with whoever.”
Fury washed over Cashton’s expression. “Someone will come after her?”
“Cashton, I would wager that someone has come after her for her entire life. It comes with the territory. Jamison will protect her, I’m sure.”
“How long have you known I was dating his daughter?”
“Not long, and Cashton you’re lucky that I afforded you this opportunity to tell me about it. If you were anyone else I would have struck first.”
“You don’t want me to see her?”
“I didn’t like being in the dark, a pawn. I didn’t understand why you just wouldn’t tell me that you were in tight with Jamison and Saige. Now it’s clear to me that you’re blind, too. For all I know that girl is as well. That’s how Saige works, how Jamison works. They know there are troubled waters and let people walk right into them. State it’s for the best, plays into some divine plan that never comes to light. Ever.”
“You trusted me,” Cashton said with an easy smile. Hearing that was like earning some badge of honor.
Reveca pushed him playfully. “Thin line,” she said as she stared at him. “Cashton, I think I’m going to help you figure out whatever you forgot.”
His eyes went wide with surprise. The blue in the centers of the dark pools nearly gleamed.
“There is no reason for Jamison and Saige to have all the answers.”
“If I knew you could do that I would have asked you forever ago.”
“I can’t, but I know where to send you.”
Reveca glanced around to see how close they were to the wall of energy that would lead them into the Edge then to the banks of the Veil. She made it a point to ensure that Shade and Thrash were still focused on their own conversation, too.
The pair of them knew better than to repeat most things they saw or heard when they were around Talon and Reveca alike, but at the same time, putting them in the uncomfortable position of having to remain silent was something that Reveca didn’t want to put them through.
She met Cashton’s stare again, and in a low tone she began to speak. “In all your time in the Veil have you ever heard of witches?”
“Dead ones?” Cashton asked as if that were an obvious question. If it ever lived then it died, which meant it was in the Veil.
“The real deal ones. I’ve heard rumors that some Lords of Death linger near them, that some even use them.”
“That’s true, but the ones I know of linger near Escorts.”
Reveca felt the wind knocked out of her. First he backs up her sister’s faith and brings back to life the fact that Lorecan had a similar story to Cashton’s. Only his had a planned descent into the living dark reality, and a planned escape that he took without one backward glance at Reveca’s sister or the child he left her with. Then Cashton speaks of Escorts. Those same beings that Thelma Ray was trying once again to get Reveca to believe in.
“You’ve seen those?”
Cashton shifted in his seat, let a level glance soar past her shoulder at the guys, then met Reveca’s stare. “That Charlie friend of mine, people say he’s one
. I don’t believe it though. I’ve never seen him feed, never seen him pull any dark energy into him.”
“He claims to be one?”
“I’ve asked him, and he says we all have to play a role in the Veil, but we can never forget who we are. I know of Escorts. They don’t stay long. It rather pisses the bloody hell out of the dead. Escorts pop in and out like they don’t have a care in the world. Phoenixes do, too.”
Reveca bit her lip. “You’ve seen them.”
“Heard of more than seen, but yeah. There are all kinds of beings in the Veil, that’s what makes it unnerving. The thing is, at times you can’t tell who really is what they claim to be. In the Veil we can manifest rapidly. Illusion is so common that anything is believable, yet you never believe anything because of it.”
“The witches, if you want answers you’re going to have to find one in particular. You have to be careful when you search for her. She trusts even less than me and if she thinks you’re looking for her you’ll never find her.”
“I thought you knew it all?” Cashton said seriously. The look on his face was similar to a child discovering the tooth fairy was a fraud.
“I know the Edge. I know the outskirts of the Veil. I have heard stories of its depths, seen a few things that would make me believe anything. The faith of my old land promised almost everything that you have mentioned.” She lifted her chin. “Those were ideas I set aside long ago, thought they were before their time, especially since I was the one creating supernatural beings.”
Cashton nodded, did his best to change his expression.
“One of the originals, from my home, her name is Windsome. Her hair is dark as the night, long and thick. She has dark eyes, so dark you can’t see anything in the blacks of them. She tends to mask her eyes, thick liner, but she has ivory skin. She loved masking her lips in every odd color she could come across. Purple was her favorite.”
Reveca glanced over her shoulder once more then back to Cashton. “She asked me to deliver her past the Edge long ago. She felt called to practice within the Veil.
“She can spell you within the Veil to help solidify your memories. She may even be able to help you with finding a permanent way out, even if that means you returning to where you fell from.”
“I’m not going back,” Cashton said as anger flared in his blue eyes. “Not alone.”
“Okay, but she can help. I’m sure of it.”
“Why now? Why would she help?”
“Now, because I’m aware of your path, because I know that every deal that could be made on mine and Saige’s side to get you out has been made. I’m powerless to bring you back from the dead like the other Sons because you never died. We are at the mercy of temporary spells. She’d help because she is in my debt, and I have yet to collect on the favor.”
“You’re giving me this favor? One you’ve held for this long?”
“I am, but I want more than this from her. I need you to ask her if any mortal is reaching into the Veil for power, if they’re pulling that out—if a human is. And if so, I need to know who.”
Cashton nodded once.
“I’m going to put a sphere of energy into your wrist. It’s going burn, you’re going to hate it, but you have to hide it until you find her. When you do, let it out and she will see this request.”
He gave her a quick nod to agree, then glanced behind her. “We’re almost there,” he said as he handed Reveca his arm.
When she took it, she dug her nail across his wrist, quick and deep enough for it to open for her. She clenched her fingers over it, closed her eyes, and composed her prayer, asked her old friend to guide Cashton, to guide her, to tell her what she needed to do to protect the life she had built. Reveca felt a surge of energy leave her, heard Cashton hiss.
When she opened her eyes she saw a glow under his flesh. She kept her fingers over it, held it in place as the boat churned forward.
She kept her eyes on Cashton as the curtain of energy that lead into the Edge passed them by. Right then Cashton was still clear, knew where he was and where he was going.
They stayed that way, never moving as they eased through the water toward the Veil. Reveca could feel the energy dulling, seeping into a hiding space inside of Cashton, but she kept his flesh hidden. Had to. All along the banks were souls.
They had passed where GranDee’s home was long ago, hidden by the night and the rain. Now, inside this Edge of death, souls were following her lead.
There were several in the Edge that Reveca had mercy on. Those that had pleaded with her not to go into the Veil, to allow them to reside on the brink of life, witnessing it and death all the same. Those that stayed were given a job. They would gather souls for nights like this, and they would also ensure that those that wanted to pass, between these times, were guided to the Veil’s borders where death would consume them.
The souls walking along the bank were either chosen or chose to move through this passage by Reveca’s people. They were so new to death though, they would recognize that power she had given Cashton—they would seek it.
By the time they made it to the dock that led to the Veil, there was no trace of that spell or energy inside of Cashton’s flesh.
She let him go slowly, stood, and gave him a firm hug. Thrash and Shade stepped to where he was, shook his hand then pulled him in for a one arm hug and promised to see him on the flip side.
Cashton gave Reveca one last look, surely telling himself not to forget what she said, then made his way to the dock. By the time he reached the end of it he blended into the river of souls that were all on his path.
That was how he got in, masked. Getting out was much the same, only when the souls poured in he crept out, and when he did Reveca’s energy concealed him until they were far away from the border.
“This always bums me the fuck out,” Thrash said as his forlorn stare tracked Cashton until the Veil took him in.
“We get him back…that’s something,” Reveca said as she sent every protective thought to the boy that had accidently become one of hers. It was something, Cashton was the only one that she had ever known to come back from those depths. Wait, no…there was someone else, and that conversation would be waiting on Reveca when she docked back in the hell that was currently her reality.
Chapter Four
Even with enhanced vision, with the skill of traversing the mysterious waterways, the trip back was grudging. Reveca had no choice but to ask the rain to continue on for it was a shield, a mask they needed. They needed it to hinder any watchful eye that would be focused on GranDee’s property as they were passing, or the Boneyard when they arrived. Yet because of the flooding it was now hindering them. It was hard to see submerged logs, or anything else for that matter, which meant the boat became bogged down more than once before they made it to the wider berth of the river that was close to cresting.
It was well after dawn before they returned, but it would be hard for anyone to tell that. The skies were still dark, and the fog was thick, thick enough that seeing more than a few inches in front of your face was the best anyone with average vision could hope for.
Once the boat was docked in the slip, it was set up to look as if had not been moved in some time by placing a torn tarp over it, broken tree limbs, random leaves. Once that was done, Shade retrieved the bag their gators’ friends had returned, and the three of them made their way to the garage.
That time of day, that early, only those in the life were up and lurking. Without the drama of the night before, without them all waiting for Reveca to return, it might have been a different story. Even though sleep was not required, going to your own room, alone or with a partner, and easing into a calm state was the norm.
When they reached the lounge it was easy to see that Talon and the others did as she said. It looked as if the party of a lifetime had ended just hours before. Men and women alike were passed out on the couches, in the booths, on the tables, even across the bar.
Some literally looked like
they had passed out seconds after lust had claimed them. What clothes they were wearing were barely in place. The energy had been cleansed; there was no dread in the air, no anger or sadness. Just the lingering feeling of a good time, the kind that would take a full day or so to overcome.
Judge, Echo, and Steele were moving through the lounge with trash bags, pulling empty longnecks from sleeping hands, picking up even more from the floor, the bar. They were dumping ashtrays, wiping down where they had been, all around the sleeping bodies.
Clean. That was a practice they all knew that Reveca demanded. She didn’t care how wild any party became as long as the room was cleansed afterward.
There wasn’t much more the boys could do until their hungover friends awoke.
Reveca nodded for them to follow her back to Church.
The hallway there also reflected a wild night. More couples were passed out half naked, clinging to one another. All the doors that led to the makeshift hotel rooms were closed, occupied signs were hanging from the knobs.
Inside Church, Reveca saw Talon leaning against the mantel on the back wall. It was a rather large fireplace, eight feet across and black. The Club’s symbol of a pentagram with a snake around it was at the head of this mantel, and the bodies of massive, black iron snakes were what it was made of.
He had a roaring fire going. This time of year, even deep in the winter, that would be odd to most. It never really got cold enough to need that much heat.
But Talon had fire in him, the Phoenix that helped Reveca rebirth him every couple hundred years. The power of fire mesmerized Talon. He’d stare into it for hours, and sometimes even let his hand run through it as he would close his eyes and breath in, as if the supremacy of the element was gliding into him.
That practice was his way of taking a time out, him reaching that place where you turned your thoughts off and just listened. It was his waking dream.
He was so deep into his connection with the fire that Reveca and the boys had made their way in, placed the damp bag in front of his seat before he looked up.
