by Lexi C. Foss
“No casualties,” Mateo reported. “All the Sentinels are alive and locked away. The only one who died was Jonathan.”
“Good.” Maybe they should add Clara to the casualty list. How could she do this to Aidan? To her friends? Her family? To Issac? What the ever-loving fuck was the woman thinking? “Do we know why Clara did it?” The words came out harsh between his teeth, his need to throttle the woman something fierce.
Mateo blew out a long breath. “From what Balthazar has gathered from her mind, she’s been working with Jonathan for months. They’re both outsiders, with him not being Aidan’s real progeny, and Clara not being a member of the harem. Because, you know, she was made for you.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Issac cut in, livid. “She didn’t even want me!”
“Perhaps not, but she never felt like she belonged, and it seems Jonathan played on that. While Aidan may have adopted him, he didn’t make him. Apparently, they bonded over it. A lot.”
“Why the fuck wouldn’t she say anything?” he demanded. “How did no one know?” Not even Issac had suspected Clara as being capable of such treachery. She always seemed so… happy. “We’re certain?” he asked again, needing him to say it.
“Yeah, there’s sufficient proof and messages. I even found a note about your bond to Stas, which, apparently, she overheard Tristan talking about to Nadia. It’s bad, man. She gave Jonathan everything.”
Issac resisted the urge to punch something. He focused on Astasiya. Her beautiful, complacent features. Her perfect lips. Her soft, blonde hair.
After several breaths, he felt the anger dimming inside. “I never would have suspected her of this,” he admitted. “Fuck, Mateo. How could she do this?”
“Nadia is astounded and pissed,” he replied. “Tristan, too. Fuck, everyone is, Sire. They’re calling for blood.”
“Rightly so.” Issac didn’t condone killing, but if Clara had been betraying them for this long? “She deserves it.”
“Yes,” Mateo said softly. “Lucian and the others are still debating her fate. As with all the Sentinels in custody. This is going to take days, maybe weeks, to sort.”
Issac rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes. It will.”
Leela appeared in the doorway, her blonde hair in tangles around her head. “I need you right now.”
“Is there anything else?” he asked.
“Nah. We’re knee-deep in pissed-off Sentinels at the moment, and Clara’s been apprehended. Honestly, the rest can wait. But I wanted you to know that it wasn’t Tristan.”
“I never thought it was,” he replied, standing. “Thank you, Mateo.”
“Sire.” He ended the call.
Issac slid the phone back into his pocket. “What do you need, Leela?”
“For you to put Skye out of her misery.” She waved him forward. “Stas is fine. Skye is not.”
He assumed that was who was screaming outside. As he stepped through the threshold, his suspicions were confirmed. A woman with black hair stood bellowing on the beach, both of her wrists shackled by Ezekiel’s hands as she tried to drag him into the water.
Issac tapped into her vision, curious as to what she was thinking, and stopped breathing.
Chaos whirled through her mind.
Images of suicide.
Begging on her knees.
Weeping.
Drowning herself in the ocean.
Osiris shackling her to the bottom of a lake. Ezekiel saving her. A vision of a blonde goddess whirling in the clouds. Lightning.
Back to the desire to slit her wrists.
A gun—Ezekiel’s—firing into her brain.
Issac couldn’t tell what was real versus what was desire. And the blonde goddess was dancing again, power thriving around her, opal wings flashing.
Aya.
Blood.
Aya’s head rolling across the ground, her eyes dead.
Issac stumbled backward, yanking himself from the woman’s mind, his heart racing. “What the fuck?” He grasped his chest. “What the fuck?”
“Make her sleep,” Leela said. “She’s going to drive herself insane.”
“She is insane!” He pressed himself against the side of the house, then peered through the windows to reassure himself that Aya still slept soundly. Her mind was quiet—too quiet. “Jesus.” He never wanted to see that vision again.
“Osiris compelled her to kill herself if anyone ever took her from his custody. Her mind is the result of that compulsion. Make her sleep until we can figure out how to override his power.”
“But he’s not here.” Shouldn’t that lessen the effect? “Gabriel said Osiris can’t reach us here.” They were technically within the Seraphim realm, of which Osiris was banned. The others had all been granted access through wards or runes or whatever magic Gabriel had performed. Issac was too damn exhausted to analyze it all now. They were safe. That was all he cared about.
“It doesn’t matter. She’s an Ichorian. He created her and therefore his coercion remains.” Leela grabbed his shoulder. “Get yourself together and put that woman to sleep. Right now.”
God, she made it sound so easy. “She just envisioned Astasiya’s severed head rolling across the ground. Give me a bloody minute.”
Leela gasped. “What?”
“Yeah.”
“Here?”
He swallowed. “No. It wasn’t in the sand.” He ran a hand down his face. “Was it a prophecy?” he asked softly, hoping like hell he’d misunderstood the outcome.
Leela shook her head. “No, prophecies are spoken aloud. She’s done nothing other than scream in agony. The Fates work in odds. They see everything, all potential outcomes. Only those spoken aloud are the destinies they believe will come to fruition.”
“And she’s never prophesized Astasiya’s death?”
“Not that I’m aware of, no.”
Well, that made him feel somewhat better. He shook off the residual shock and glanced inside again. His Aya remained unmoving, her face soft with sleep.
“All right,” he murmured. “I’ll try to help her sleep.” But it wasn’t going to be easy.
He carefully accessed her vision again, flinching at the gory image flickering in her thoughts. “She’s envisioning a blade piercing her own heart,” he muttered.
“One of the many ways she’s died,” a new voice informed him. Female. Vera. Her navy wings fluttered at her back as she appeared beside them, her gaze tired. “I can see the day Osiris unleashed this command, but I can’t rewrite it. He’s stronger than me.”
“Can Sethios override it somehow?” Leela asked.
Vera shook her head. “He’s not strong enough in his current state. His release from Osiris’s control is too recent.”
“Stas?” Leela suggested. “Once she wakes, I mean.”
“She certainly has the power, after what I just witnessed, but I doubt she’ll know how to accomplish it. Perhaps the two of them together?” She sighed. “I’ll contact some of our allies, see if anyone has any suggestions. For now, I agree with putting her to rest.” Her silver eyes lifted to him. “Show me your usefulness, youngling.”
“Youngling?” he repeated.
“You’re only a few centuries old, right? A baby in my time. But show me what you can do. Make me understand why one as powerful as Stas has chosen you as her mate.” She nodded to Skye. “Help her.”
“Sure. Then you can explain what you did to Osiris.” Whatever she’d done had sent the ancient being to his knees and knocked him out. Issac wanted to know how so it could be done again. But he focused on the task first, locking on Skye’s visual receptors and easing her into unconsciousness.
Her screams quieted, her lashes fluttering closed as Ezekiel caught her in his waiting arms. “What the hell just happened?” he demanded, his gaze feral as he searched the beach.
Comprehension settled into Issac’s mind, the puzzle pieces all coming together.
Skye was the reason Ezekiel had chosen to remain with Osir
is.
The assassin loved her.
And Osiris had used that to his advantage, just as he had planned to use Issac against Stas—to train a new pet.
“Ezekiel,” Vera called. “Issac has calmed Skye’s mind to grant her a temporary reprieve. Tell him what you want her to dream about.”
The assassin’s ebony gaze flashed to Issac. “What is she dreaming about now?”
“Nothing,” Issac replied.
“Good.” He lifted Skye into his arms. “Please keep it that way for as long as you can.” He carried her toward the house and paused on the threshold, glancing back at Issac. “Thank you.”
He gave the man a nod. “It’s the least I can do.” And he meant it. After everything all these people had done for Astasiya, the trials and torment they’d survived, helping a prophetess sleep seemed trivial in comparison.
“To answer your questions about Osiris, I dismantled his mind by rewriting his history,” Vera explained. “The trauma is what knocked him out. That, coupled with what Astasiya had done to him prior to my involvement.”
“She manipulates memories,” Leela translated. “And she’s very good at it.”
“So you warped his past?” Issac asked, his brow furrowing.
“Yes, but only temporarily. He’s too strong for it to be permanent. Astasiya is the same way. She’d unraveled several of my distortions over the years, to the point that giving her back her memories the other day was actually quite easy.”
“Someone bring me up to speed,” Sethios said, approaching from the beach, his expression sheltered. “My recollection of the last few decades is… fucked up.”
“I’ll bring you up to speed once you take a shower, shave off that hideous beard, and cut your damn hair,” Vera replied. “You look terrible.”
“Gee, thanks for the concern, Vera. Now tell me, where the fuck is Caro?”
Leela and Vera visibly flinched.
Gabriel folded his arms. “At the bottom of the ocean somewhere.”
“What?” Sethios blinked, his gaze taking on a faraway gleam. His lips flattened. “I can’t feel her.” His eyes flickered around, his palm grabbing his chest. “Why can’t I feel her? God, why didn’t I notice?” He grabbed his hair, pulling on the filthy strands. “What the fuck has happened these last…?” He trailed off, his focus shifting to inside the house.
Sethios started moving, prompting Issac to follow, as the seemingly deranged male was headed straight for Astasiya.
But he stopped abruptly, causing Issac to nearly face-plant into the man’s back.
“Astasiya,” he breathed, falling to his knees beside the couch. “Dear God, she looks like Caro.” He lifted his hand as if to touch her but stopped himself partway. “Twenty-five?” he asked.
“Yes,” Gabriel confirmed from the doorway.
“How is she? Did everything go according to plan?” he asked. “Is she fully transitioned? Does she have wings? Are they blue like her mother’s?” He had tears in his eyes as he looked at Gabriel. “Does she even know about me? About Caro?”
“She knows who you are and aided us in helping you escape,” he replied, sitting in the chair closest to the couch. “She’s still learning about what she is, how to compel, everything. We managed to keep her out of the supernatural world until last summer when she met Wakefield.”
Sethios stiffened, his attention shifting. A pair of green eyes—so similar to Aya’s glorious green—locked on Issac. “And you’re now bonded to my daughter?”
“I am,” he replied, unfazed by the brutality lurking beneath the notorious male’s skin. Sethios was renowned for his cruelty, being Osiris’s right-hand man, and having the ability to influence. Most were terrified of the man.
As it was, Issac couldn’t give two fucks about the man’s powers.
“Astasiya is beautiful and loyal—sometimes to a fault. She cares about others more than herself, and she’s one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. She faced Osiris to free you, channeled the heartache of losing you and Caro to shatter the remains of your father’s compulsion, and reached out to me for comfort in her final seconds before shutting down. I promised her I would be here when she wakes, and I will not be breaking that promise.” He arched a brow to enhance his statement, ensuring Sethios read between the lines.
You will not come between me and my Aya.
“Remind you of anyone?” Vera asked, hiding a smile behind her hand.
“Yep.” Leela smirked. “Those two are going to get on famously, I think.”
“Or kill each other,” Vera murmured. “Shall we take bets?”
“You two haven’t changed in the slightest,” Sethios remarked, his gaze still on Issac. “And we’ll see if he proves himself worthy.”
“He already has,” a groggy voice replied from the couch, Astasiya’s tired eyes on her father.
Issac knelt beside her, his palm going to her cheek. “Are you all right, love?” He still couldn’t hear her, which concerned him.
“I’m just tired,” she murmured, leaning into his touch. “And all of you keep talking.”
He smiled. “Sorry, darling. Would you like me to take you upstairs?”
“Mmm.” Her eyes fell closed, her fingers reaching for him. “Please.”
Gathering her into his arms, he stood and met Sethios’s gaze. “We’ll continue the discussion after Astasiya has rested.”
Approval gleamed in the other man’s eyes as he nodded, but he didn’t move out of their way. Instead he lifted his hand to trace her jaw. “I’m proud of you, little angel,” he whispered. “Thank you for saving me.”
Her lashes lifted. “Little angel,” she repeated, a smile teasing her mouth. “I’ve missed that name. And you. And Mom.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” he replied, tears in his eyes. “Now rest. We’ll catch up after you’ve slept. And then we’ll talk about your mother.”
“Ocean,” she mumbled, shivering. “So cold. And alone. But she told me to find you. And I did.” She yawned, her eyes barely open, her body limp in Issac’s arms. “I found you.”
“You did,” he agreed. “And together, we’ll find your mom.”
She nodded, snuggling into Issac’s shoulder. “Yes. Sleep. Mmm. You smell good.”
Issac chuckled and nuzzled her cheek. “We’ll go have a nap, darling.”
“ ’Kay,” she murmured, her eyes closing.
Sethios moved out of their way this time, his expression soft as he studied his daughter. But as Issac started down the hallway, he overheard the man saying, “Tell me they can’t procreate.”
“Is that a command or a question?” Leela asked, humor in her voice.
“Whatever will get you to answer,” he growled. “Astasiya is too young to be pregnant. She’s barely an adult. And fuck, she’s mated? You all were supposed to protect her!”
Laughter met his outburst. “What do you think that man has been doing?” Vera asked, humor in her voice. “He’s been guarding her since the day he met her. And as to the procreation bit, ask the fertility queen.”
Leela snorted. “Fertility queen? Really? I’m still mad at you for what you did to Balthazar. He fucking remembers me, Vera.”
“You told me to rearrange his memories and I did. That doesn’t mean I removed every single detail.”
Well, that was interesting.
“Can we focus on the procreating part?” Sethios cut in. “I need to know that my daughter isn’t going to make me a grandfather in the middle of this chaos.”
“Relax, Sethios. The fertility cycle for Seraphim revolves around centuries, not days or months. Well, unless Jonathan alters your genetics, apparently.”
“What?”
“Long story involving Stas’s best friend,” Leela murmured. “Anyway, as far as your daughter goes, she won’t be fertile until she’s at least five hundred or so. But if you really want to have the ‘birds and the bees’ talk with her, I can give you some pointers.”
“Jesus Christ,” he m
uttered, sounding even more upset. “She was seven yesterday. To think about having the sex talk…”
“Worried Issac is doing to your little girl what you enjoy doing to Caro?” Vera taunted. “Don’t worry. I’ve not seen any knife-play in her memories.”
Oh my God, I do not need to hear about my father playing with my mother! Astasiya shouted into his head, causing him to nearly drop her.
Well, at least the connection wasn’t broken.
Sorry, love, he replied, shaking his head to clear the buzzing she’d left behind. Heading upstairs now.
Do we know who the mole is? she asked sleepily as he laid her down on the guest bed—the same one he’d found her in what felt like a century ago.
Clara. The name came out on a mental growl. I don’t know why yet, but rest assured, the Hydraians are handling it.
Will they kill her?
I don’t know, he admitted. It depends on her motive and if she regrets it.
He pulled off his soiled dress shirt and pants, then repeated the action with her jeans and shirt. Her eyes opened, a smile playing in their depths. Are you trying to seduce me? Because I don’t think I’m up for a performance right now.
“You need sleep first,” he murmured. “I’m just making sure we’re properly prepared for when you wake up.”
“So you are seducing me.” Mirth sparkled in her green depths.
“It’s a preemptive seduction.” He tucked her into the blankets and slid in beside her. “Hmm, and I can influence your dreams now, too. That may make this even more interesting.”
She shivered, her pupils dilating. Is it considered an abuse of power to infiltrate a woman’s mind while she sleeps?
Only if she’s unwilling. He raised a brow. Are you?
She snuggled into him, her face going to his neck, her lips gently brushing his pulse. Consider me always willing.
Likewise. He pulled her close. You were absolutely radiant today, love. But I have to tell you something. It’s rather important.
She tensed. What?
Well, it’s about your wings, he hedged, fighting a smile.
What about them?
He sighed. They do change color.
She gasped inside his mind. They do?
