Part III
44
Kris
"Stay with me. Dammit!"
Tara's words float in and out of my consciousness.
I try to chuckle at the stubbornness in her voice, but even that movement sends a throb of burning heat down my right arm.
The wounds on my chest are beyond the stage of hurting. Where the sword's energy had got to me, it had burned right through to my bone. Better me than Tara. If Noah had hurt my mate…No!
I couldn't allow that.
I try to open my eyes, only for a male voice to rumble at the edge of my consciousness. The smell of antiseptic assails my senses and pain rips through me, pulling me under.
I'm floating, the darkness dragging at the edge of my consciousness, and I'm so cold. It's as if my very life is bleeding out of me.
Just like it had for Noah.
I'd seen the flash of light, had felt the power from the sword rip through him before slicing into me. I’d felt the life crash out of him in those last few seconds.
His fear of death, his hate of me, his love for his fallen mate: all of it coalesced into a stream of consciousness so alive I'd seen it, felt it. I reached out a psychic hand to him and held his in those last few seconds as his soul lingered in that little temple.
Before following the energy zooming up, he had laughed, ridding himself of all emotion, all fear, joy, past, and future. He'd latched onto that comet and ridden it.
And I'd wanted to go with him.
A part of me is still captured by that faint light far away.
As the weakness crawls over me, leaching away my warmth, making a mockery of my thoughts, it pulls me into nothingness, a void that sucks me in.
The darkness whizzes past, faster and faster. It’s so black I can't see a thing, but I know I'm moving, swirling in a wormhole, round and round, then…
Silence.
White light.
Blinding.
I'm through to the other side.
The light envelops me, a softness, a stillness never experienced. The light flows through me, completely absorbing me. Indescribable. I'm floating in an enormous stream of light, vast and full. I’m sinking into the heart of life, a river of life to drink from. For I, too, am only light.
Everything is light. Every sub-atom, atom, star, planet, even consciousness itself, is made of light, I realize.
All I want is to sink into this emptiness, to become one with the light.
I see her then. Her dark hair curls to her waist, soft brown eyes shining with that sparkle she always had.
I reach out a hand, touch her cheek. Fia.
She smiles.
The calm from her, the sheer happiness she carries inside, bleeds out to me, washes over me in a wave that's so right.
Something inside, knotted up, burdened with pain, the self-blame I carried for so long at her death, begins to lighten, to disappear.
"You're at peace," I exhale on my next breath.
"I was fated to leave," she replies. "But you are needed, Kris. Your mission there is not done. You must find a way to destroy the evil that eats at the humanity in all the species. For there will be more coming. Noah was just the beginning."
With a flash of clarity, I know Fia's right. For everything I search for is right there. All I must do is find the courage to accept it.
"I must return to my mate," I say.
No sooner are the words out, when her face begins to disappear. Then I'm falling, falling, dropped back into the whirlpool of black.
"Live! Stay alive. Don't give up, not now, Kris."
Tara's voice cuts through the dark, calling out to me. And I cling to it. Hold on. I know if I give in now, I may never come back, never have a chance to see Tara again, to touch her, hold her.
The thought rips through me as I'm sucked into the vortex that is my life and back into my body. Pain bursts through me, agonizing, white-hot, and burning through me, slicing me.
Tara.
The next moment a hand grips mine. Strength from her bleeds into me.
I welcome it, opening myself up. For the first time, I let myself trust, allow myself to draw strength from someone else.
45
Kris
A week later
I head towards the barracks tucked away among the complex of buildings outside the Mayor's residence. It's occupied by single members who serve in the army under the Guardians. The mated pairs and families stay in separate homes of their own. Most are shifters, but there's a growing incidence of interspecies pairing too. Many of Leana's pack prefer to live here over the shifters-only suburb of Shiftertown outside the city. There are also humans and vampires among the residents, all of which makes for a very interesting diaspora of residents.
Leana insisted I stay until I was completely recovered from what she calls the 'sword burn.'
She asked me to take on the role of teaching the juvenile soldiers. I was the best fighter they had, she said. Besides. I had flair for mediating between the species, one useful in breaking up the fights between the hotheaded younger males.
I'm sure it's Ethan who's responsible for her extending the offer, yet I surprised myself by saying I'd consider it.
I am healed enough now to feel like myself...almost. Except for the mating bond that throbs with a burning intensity that often keeps me awake at night.
Perhaps I'm still here because I don't want to head back to my island. I can't bear the thought of sleeping in my own bed, a bed that would remind me of how the witch had sprawled across it the last time I saw her there.
Or maybe it's just nice to spend some time among the people of this city, one I am coming to consider my own.
A little boy races toward me. After flinging himself at my leg, he holds on. "Ride, ride," the shifter cub sings happily.
He looks up at me with melting blue-black eyes. "Pleeease!"
The rascal knows there's no way I can resist a plea made in such a pathetic voice.
All right then!
I take a step forward, then another. He clings to me, nails digging into my thigh.
"Woohoo! Better than the seesaw. Mariam is going to be so jealous!" he yells.
"Anthony Easton, what are you doing here? Why are you not doing your homework?" The female voice is sharp enough to even make me wince.
Still clinging to my leg, the little boy goes still. He looks up at me, eyes mournful. His lips tremble, but he's giggling, the brat. He knows he's upset his mother. He intended to do just that!
Bending down, I grab the little runt by the scruff of his neck. I hold him up, even as his short, stocky legs pummel the air.
The female shifter walks up to me. She's dressed in a soft cotton dress, dark brown hair held back by a scarf that ripples in the breeze.
I recognize her as the shifter we met during the confrontation with the vampires... when the witch was with me.
Pushing aside the treacherous thoughts that crowd in on me, I nod towards the struggling brat. "Yours?" I ask.
Reaching me, she folds her arms over her chest and taps the ground with a foot clad in stilettos. She narrows her eyes in mock fury.
"You are so grounded, little man," she snaps. "No playing cricket for a month."
A gasp of horror, this time for real, escapes from the cub. Gripping my shoulder, he leans close to me. "She's really mad at me. I hadn't meant to upset her." His tone is mournful.
"Sure, you did," I whisper back. He blinks, lips drooping a little at the corner.
"A word of advice." I close one eye. "If you kiss her and apologize, she may just reduce your sentence."
At his vigorous nod, I lower him to the ground. He promptly runs to his mother and flings his arms around her waist. "I'm sorry, Mama." His tone is properly mournful, one no mother can resist, not even this one.
She sighs and runs her fingers through his hair. "All right, Tony." Her voice softens.
Sensing her give in, he pushes it further. "I just wanted to play," he says, voice plai
ntive.
The rascal.
But his ma is used to his sneaky ways. "How you escaped I don't know," she says, half admiring. "I won't ground you this time, provided you complete your homework before bedtime, okay?" Her voice takes on a warning note.
"Thank you, Mama! I love you!" he cries.
She bends low, hugging her son.
"Welcome to my life. Never a moment's peace." Straightening, she turns to me. "I never did get a chance to thank you properly. If it wasn't for you and your mate, Tony and I wouldn't be here today."
"She's not my—" I stop myself. "We are Guardians; we were just doing my duty, ma'am." I tilt my head.
"You were both so brave that day; there was no doubt in my mind you'd win the fight," she says. Nodding to the little boy, she adds, "Tony's father, my mate, died just a year ago and life has never been the same. I miss my mate every day, and yet I must go on. I must live for my son."
"Don't be sad, Mama." At Tony's plaintive cry, his mother swoops down and picks up his wriggling body.
"You and your mate are so lucky you have each other," she says. "Keep her close, for you never know what you have until you lose it." She walks away, holding her little boy.
The words hit me with the force of a punch.
Mikhail told me that Tara had quit her role with the Guardians, that she was going to leave the city. I’d taken it as a sign that she didn't want anything to do with me, that she was still angry with me for what I'd done. I'd let my dominance get the better of me in leaving her behind that day; I deserve any punishment meted out to me...so I'd told myself. But now, hearing the female shifter's words, I know I can't just let Tara leave. There is a time to push and a time to hold back, I realize. I know what I must do this time.
46
Tara
I haven't seen Kris since we brought him to the hospital, not since he gripped my hand, refusing to let go as Vance stitched him up and treated him for the burns.
I waited until Vance confirmed to me that he was going to be okay.
He’d been burned through by the power of the sword, and it was going to take him longer to heal. Miraculous immortal healing powers notwithstanding, his wounds had been severe.
But Vance promised he'd be back on his feet in a week.
I hadn't waited. As soon as Vance confirmed he was going to be okay, I fled. I should’ve been pleased, reassured. But that wasn’t the case.
For he opened his eyes, touched my cheek, and called me Fia before promptly lapsing into unconsciousness.
I can sense the mating bond; but for Kris, Fia was...is still his mate.
The Fia who is now long dead.
How does one even fight a ghost, a woman who is not alive. A memory so strong it haunts his every waking hour. His nights. His dreams.
He may not have bonded with her, but his soul accepted her as a mate. It's I who had been fooling myself all along.
For immortals like him choose a mate only once. And while we maybe bonded, on a soul level, he'd decided on Fia.
So, I had decided to leave.
I hadn’t even stayed on for the funeral of the Ascendant killed in the fight.
They’d decided to mourn both Zayn and Noah. In death everyone was equal, whether saint or sinner. And then there were four…Ascendants.
Aaron had been cut by the sword but was healing well enough to be back on his feet in a few days.
Mikhail urged me to wait until Kris regained consciousness, but I refused.
Leana even revealed she was with cub, a half-shifter, half-Ascendant baby who was going to be so, so special.
Leana wanted me to be the baby's godmother. Oh! I was so tempted to stay. In one stroke, she gave me a family…a child...one I'd never have, not with Kris. I wanted to stay, but I knew it was best if I left, fading away and disappearing before Kris was back on his feet.
All of which does not explain why I’m here today at Alex's Bar. It doesn’t explain why I allowed Cain to smooth talk me into coming here with him and Rohan and Ethan.
It doesn't explain why I allowed the three to crowd me at the bar or why I accepted their challenge of downing tequila shot after tequila shot.
We drank until Cain, in a drunken fit, had walked up to the band, picked up the guitar, and proceeded to play a rock song. It was a fast-paced love song throbbing with hope and lust and delight that no doubt had the panties of every single female at the bar soaking wet.
Everyone except me.
The song reminds me of Kris. Dammit. I will not think of him, not now.
I wanted to run far away. Yet here I am, still in his city, in a bar I now know Kris frequents. A part of me insists it's because I want to see him one last time before I leave.
I push away all thought. It's time for one last dance, my last hurrah before I leave.
"Ethan, Rohan, boost me up."
Holding me around the waist, the two men place me on the bar. As they lean back, they bump into each other. Ethan apologizes while Rohan stays quiet. His eyes catch Ethan's. I sense a look pass between them.
Then the music picks up. The tempo beats fast, forcing me to move with it, to slam my heels onto the bar. I move my pelvis. Thrust forward, right, back.
My feet move of their own accord.
Whirling, turning on the narrow bar, eyes closed until I don't know where I am, what I am, I forget the grief that pulls at my heart. I forget the loss and the pain of the last few weeks, the surprise of the change and then getting used to who I now am. I’m just me, a half-human, half-vampire female from the slums. I’m an ex-soldier who lost her mother, who loved an immortal and lost. Now, I just am.
A final throb of the guitar and a clash of the drums shakes me to the core. My foot slips on the bar counter, and I find myself falling. Down, down. Then I’m caught and held.
I look up into turquoise-blue eyes, the smell of peppery woodsmoke and pine surrounding me. It's him.
"Kris?"
It’s a younger-looking Kris. A part of me notices that he's shaved. Gone is the stubble on his chin. He looks thinner but rested. His eyes are clear, and those cheekbones…Had I noticed those sharp cheekbones that cut through his profile? If he looked lethal before, now he's just devastating. His T-shirt's rounded collar dips in the front, enough for me to notice the two small scars on his throat.
My mark.
He's wearing it openly. It's a declaration to the world that he's taken. Why would he do that?
Then all thought goes out of my head, for he turns, making his way through the crowd, still holding me.
Cain—the traitor—nods at Kris, giving me a smile and wink as we pass him.
I begin to struggle in earnest in Kris's arms, which only tighten around me until it feels my bones are being crushed.
"You're hurting me," I hiss.
"You’re part vampire, as strong as me. You can take it."
Yeah, I can't argue with that.
I subside, only to swear as Rohan holds the door of the bar open. He blows me a kiss as we pass by. The last straw is Aaron opening the door to Kris's truck. I bare my fangs at him, hissing as we pass.
Aaron simply grins, folding his hands together before bowing us out.
Kris doesn't even react when I curse at him. He just places me in the passenger's seat. But then I have my revenge too.
By the time he comes around to the driver's side, I've slid into it.
He looks at me through the window. I am sure he's going to protest, when he says. "You drive."
Oh?
The surprise must show on my face for a smile tugs his lips. And that's a shock. He’s never looked at me this way, with features open, eyes swirling with emotion. With...love?
I look away, convinced I read him wrong.
Then he confuses me even more.
Opening the door, he reaches for me, only to tuck a strand of hair back behind my ear. His touch shivers down my back. I bite my lips, shoving the desire I feel for him aside.
When he leans through the
door, his breath is hot on my cheek. I’m sure he's going to kiss me, but he just snaps the buckle.
"Cheap shot," I mutter under my breath.
Chuckling, he slams my door shut before going around and sliding into the passenger's seat. Only then does he hand me the keys.
"Couldn't have you driving off without me now, could we?"
"Bite me!"
"I intend to," he replies, eyes fixed on my breasts.
"I'm sure you've seen many female breasts in your lifetime," I snap, more to take his attention away from my chest than out of anger.
Fail.
"Yep!" he agrees.
Jerk!
A wicked smile twists his lips before he adds, "None as delectable as yours. None I want to lick and suck and bite as much as yours, Tara."
His words arrow straight to my core, setting off heated desire in their wake. I refuse to look back. When he continues to gaze at me, I feel heat pour through my cheeks. Still, I refuse to look at him, refuse to acknowledge that I’m blushing.
Instead, I pull away from the curb, focusing on the road.
"You're magnificent when you're angry." His voice flows over my skin. "And even more when you’re aroused." Reaching out, he cups my breast.
I almost swerve off the road.
"Fuck, Kris," I swear. "What are you doing?"
"What I should have done a long time ago, my gorgeous soulmate." He squeezes the curved flesh.
Dampness blooms between my thighs. "Kris, don't." My voice comes out weak, hoarse. I hear the plea in it.
I want him. I've always wanted him.
I opened myself to him when he was wounded. I'd felt his soul and let him feel mine. I poured everything I had to give into him. I'd felt the mating bond, had known how it could be with him.
I was sure that was my last sense of him, that it was over. That there was no chance. But now to hear him say it, hear him call me his mate…it sends a sharp keening cry of response through me.
Claimed: Paranormal Romance (Immortals, Vampires and Shifters) (Many Lives Book 4) Page 16
