Eternity

by Tmonique Stephens

  Still. It wouldn’t collapse.

  Painful needles of sensation returned to her arm. She rushed to her feet and circled behind the creature and Roman.

  “Go!” Roman ordered. The beast rolled, crushing him beneath its bulk. Then snatched him up and slammed his body into a tree.

  “Ssstay Ssstella and watch him die,” it hissed.

  Claws squeezing his throat. “Why are you doing this?” Roman croaked. “I adopted you as my son, made you a Brother.”

  “I never wanted to be a Brother!” it snarled, “One of many, doing as ordered, always in the shadow of everyone. Never knowing what I am—until now.”

  She stumbled back and crashed into an outcrop of rock. It talked! Actually spoke! Its eyes rotated back and its penetrating gaze nailed her to the spot. In a parody of a grin, rows of jagged, nightmarish teeth showed. Then it snagged the discarded sword and skewered Roman through the chest, pinning him to the tree.

  “No!” Stella screamed and rushed forward to save him. Snake-like and spiked at the end, the beast tail pounded the ground in front of her, blocking her way. She raised her sword to hack at it, but the tail wrapped around her.

  Powerful, rhythmic muscles clenched tight with each exhale, compressing her ribs, lungs and heart until fireworks sparked her wavering vision. She couldn’t breathe. Any second everything would cease to matter. If she could raise her sword . . . she tried, gathering what strength she had left, but she couldn’t.

  However, she didn’t need much strength to aim the blade at the base of its tail and thrust down. Recently sharpened, the blade embedded deep in the meaty tissue.

  The beast dropped her and spun around.

  “I killed you once.” She wheezed. “I’ll do it again.” She took a shaky step back. “Come and get me, you fucking bastard.”

  Then stumbled between the trees, disappearing into the night

  CHAPTER 33

  Though the moon was high, a thick tree canopy blocked a good portion of the light. Speckled, the moon hid and revealed equally. Stella prayed she staggered in the right direction, toward the traps Roman had laid.

  “Ssstella.” Close behind her, the thing’s snake tongue and long snout brutalized her name. In the middle of thick trees, she hazarded a glance over her shoulder. Nothing followed her. She didn’t believe it. The beast was on her trail, hunting her, just like she wanted.

  A rocky outcropping stopped her.

  Damn, she went the wrong way.

  A tree creaked, then splintered and crashed onto the rocks inches from her, showering her with branches, leaves and chunks of wood.

  “Run, Ssstella. I like to chassse you,” hissed from the woods.

  She couldn’t see him. So perfectly he blended with the night. But she spotted the chimney of the cabin. She had an idea where she was and where the traps were hidden.

  The moonlight flickered before disappearing behind a cloudbank. Plunged into darkness, she ducked low and took off in that direction. A freight train made less noise barreling through a quiet town, but there’s no way to be silent crashing through the woods, running for your life, in the dark.

  “Slow down!” A voice warned her. Automatically, she slowed and didn’t have a chance to wonder who, what, where, when or why. The ground gave way beneath her feet, pitching her forward. The scream that rose in her throat ended in a grunt when she slammed into the dirt wall of a pit. Holding onto a thick root, Stella tried to pull herself up, but she slid lower, cutting her foot on the sharp end of a spike.

  Instead of leading the animal to a trap, she was in one.

  And her sword was gone, lost somewhere below. Her shoulder throbbed in time with her speeding heart. She reached up and searched for something to hold onto, another root, anything.

  She slipped again. A spike dug into the center of her left foot, causing spasms of pain. She tried to jerk her foot away, but a bright burst of pain darted from her shoulder to her fingertips. She smothered her scream in the crook of her arm and landed back in the same position.

  Eyes straining in the dark, she prayed for light, just enough to see Roman again, to say the words ‘I love you’ once again and ‘Sorry’. Wrong place, wrong time. Such a cliché, but absolutely right.

  Drained of all strength, her arms were dead stumps. She couldn’t hold on much longer. Her limbs trembled and she slid.

  The spike pierced her sole, ripping into the center and through her foot. Agony streaked up her leg. She bit her lip, turning her scream into a hushed whimper.

  “Give me your hand.”

  The most beautiful voice filled her head. Sunlight spilled over the top of the pit illuminating her precarious position. Fifteen feet deep, more than twenty feet wide, dozens of spikes lined the bottom of the pit, waiting for a victim.

  Waiting for her.

  “Child, your hand.”

  Stella glanced up. The serene face of a woman appeared leaning over the edge, reaching for her. She didn’t hesitate to stretch out her hand.

  They didn’t touch. More than four feet separated them.

  A tear slid down her cheek. “Whoever you are tell Roman . . .” she swallowed the painful lump in her throat. “Tell him . . . next lifetime.”

  “No Child, this time.”

  Strength gone, she fell. Eyes closed, she braced herself for impact. She didn’t hit the rest of the spikes or the bottom of the pit.

  She rose.

  Painlessly, the spike pulled out of her foot. As she ascended, her savior came into view. Covered in a soft brown wrap with gold trim, a small crown of feathers sat on top of her beaded hair. Deeply tanned, she looked old. Her kohl lined eyes, milky. Weathered, her face an ancient map—yet—she looked young, fresh, like a bride on her special day. For a moment, she looked like everyone and no one. She even looked like her mother. Who was she?

  Stella almost cleared the rim of the pit when a clawed hand reached through the wavering image of feminine serenity to grip her neck. The woman vanished like smoke in a stiff breeze.

  “There you are,” it hissed.

  Pain engulfed her once more. Oh God. I imagined the entire thing.

  Beady eyes rotated forward and seemed to stroke from her head to her feet in a gaze that sapped the rest of her strength. Drool seeped from the side of its snout. A foot long tongue slid out of its snout and licked her face. Suddenly, the grip on her throat eased and she almost slipped from his hand back into the pit. Shaking his massive head, the beast staggered from the edge with her.

  “No,” it croaked. “Not now! I will not go!” Before her eyes, parts of him started to flicker and fade.

  “Stella!” Roman yelled on the other side of the pit.

  The beast solidified and its head snapped around. “You! You’re alwayssss in the fucking way!” He yelled and flung her into the nearest tree. Her back hit first, bones shattered and crunched before she landed in a heap at the base.

  In her last few seconds, she heard her name and saw Roman running toward her.

  Come and get me? She did not say that!

  Pinned to a tree with his own weapon, Roman couldn’t believe his ears and neither his eyes when she took off into the dark woods with Daniel chasing her.

  “Daniel—Alamut! It’s me you want. She’s nothing.” he screamed futilely and then caught something like a chuckle retreating into the woods.

  The sword was long and buried halfway into him and the tree. To free himself, he had to reach the hilt. He stretched his hand, reaching for it, but fell centimeters short.

  Feet braced against the tree, with both hands he grabbed the blade and pulled himself forward. Fresh blood leaked from the wound that tried to heal around the blade and from his sliced palms. He didn’t stop. When his hand finally closed over the hilt, he yanked.

  The blade wouldn’t budge.

  Steady pressure. He pulled and wiggled, pulled and wiggled until the weapon loosened and pulled free of the tree. Roman dropped to the ground with the blade still lodged in his chest. Another hard
yank and he was completely free, but weak. He took a step and ended up leaning against the same tree he’d freed himself from. The ragged edges of his wound started to knit together, but the loss of blood fatigued him more than the fight.

  He couldn’t die, but he could go into a coma until completely healed. He didn’t want to contemplate Stella’s fate if that happened.

  Roman took off through the trees, toward the outcrop of bedrock, following Daniel’s path. His mind still reeled at the thought the monster was Daniel. The four W’s knocked around his head? How, joined them. Before the night ended, he would have answers.

  He stopped by the outcrop of granite. A quick glance up and at the ground confirmed they changed direction. Stella led Daniel back into the woods and straight toward the traps. He ran through the wild terrain, determined to get there before her.

  He broke through and saw Stella dangling by her neck over his trap. Time stretched. One second became an hour as the beast, who used to be his trusted brother, smashed the woman he loved into a tree, and then vanished.

  Though he raced to her crushed body, he already knew. Part of his soul departed, leaving with her on a journey he could never take.

  “S-Stella?” Her name was as broken as her body.

  He swept the hair from her face. A smile still graced her lips. Her eyes glowed golden. Then quickly dissipated and winked out. If it weren’t for her eyes staring straight ahead, unfocused and glassy, he would’ve thought she was alive. He gathered her into his arms and pressed his lips to her, wishing for a whiff of breath left in her body. He found none.

  Roman brought her to his chest and buried his head in her hair while grief eviscerated his insides. The only woman he ever loved, could ever love, left him once again.

  He threw back his head, opened his mouth, and shared his pain with the night.

  CHAPTER 34

  A tear slid down Roman’s cheek. Another one joined it. Bitterness tore at his sanity. Hours ago, he had it all. He closed his eyes at the shattered body in his arms and remembered how she looked riding him, head thrown back, arms above her head, writhing as she discovered the sensual world of lovers. The sweet, lotus blossom smell of her. Her wistful smile she had when she didn’t know he watched her. And her eyes! Those storm cloud orbs enthralled him the moment he touched her hand and gazed into them. She captivated him. Even if her soul didn’t harbor Elyssian, he still would’ve chosen her, fallen in love with her, gladly lived a cursed life, for her.

  The thing beating in his chest broke and bled out every hope and dream he’d ever formed. But then it healed. And what replaced his emotions resembled the warped beast waiting in the woods.

  Roman closed Stella’s eyes and gently eased her to the ground. He took time straightening her limbs, adjusted the lacy nightie and finally, he smoothed her hair—tucking that wayward strand behind her ear—before he left her beneath the tree.

  “I am here, Roman, jussst for you.”

  The voice came from his right. He turned left.

  “I am defying my massster to be here. You are not the one he wantsss killed. I will tell you before you die. My lassst gift.”

  “Who is your master?” He craned his head in the direction of the voice. Nothing was there. The more he stared, the more he saw nothing.

  “Not. You. Anymore.” Alamut’s voice shook with anger.

  “I was never your master.”

  “Liar!” Nearby, a tree toppled. “You are Lord and Masster of Nicolisss Sssecurity, RockGate, everything. You control the fate of all in your persssonal kingdom. We all danced to your tune.”

  He’s angry, good. Anger kept you off balance, unfocused, and reckless even. Roman stopped and studied his surroundings before he said, “Now you dance to a new master. You’re still a slave.”

  “Better to be a slave to a god.”

  A god? “Which god lowered their standards to drag scum like you into their ranks?”

  Alamut rushed through the trees, charging and bellowing toward him. Mottled skin gleamed in the speckled moonlight as he ran on all fours. He was almost beautiful as he closed the distance.

  The hilt of the sword bit into Roman’s palm. He eased his grip and rolled his wrist. On the balls of his feet, he balanced. “I loved you. Raised you. Today, you die.”

  Calmly, he pushed everything out of his mind and focused only on the thing barreling toward him. At the last minute, Roman dodged left. Like a semi with too much momentum, Alamut tried to turn, but skidded past him. His claws gouged the soft earth, trying to find purchase, but the ground gave way beneath him, sending him tumbling into Roman’s second trap.

  The last thing Stella heard was Roman’s anguished cry. Her last image was the horror on his face.

  She opened her eyes. Her vision swam. Dizzy, she went to one knee and gripped the silky grass. Breathe, she ordered and concentrated on the in and out transfer of oxygen. Memories of Daniel holding her by the neck, and smashing her into a tree flooded her senses. She remembered the impact and the snap of her back sounding like a gunshot, reverberating through her torso. And the terrifying numbness.

  She looked down and realized she wasn’t twisted at an unnatural angle on the ground, beneath a tree, but resting in front of a barrier of rolling mist. She smoothed the patch of crisp white grass she gripped and scanned her new landscape.

  A vast void of mist and a stark white grass field greeted her. Panic latched onto her and a lump lodged in her throat, yet her heart didn’t race as wavering images separated from the mist. Women, seven in total, all very familiar to her, emerged from the mist and slowly came into view.

  “Am I dead?” she asked when their wispy forms surrounded her.

  “No, but close.” Blonde with apple green eyes, Elyssian spoke.

  “Are you ready to die?” Alice—still wearing the dress she drowned in—asked.

  Stella’s head whipped back and forth. “No.”

  “Why?” Matilda demanded, her wrinkled, weathered face, pinched with anger. She died at ninety-eight, lonely and heartbroken, waiting for Roman to find her.

  “Because . . . I have a reason now,” Stella answered, meeting each woman’s gaze.

  “What reason?” Lauren, the last reincarnate, asked.

  “Roman,” Stella said, and the women nodded.

  “Do ye love ‘im?” Little Mary asked, hiding behind Matilda’s skirts.

  She didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I love him more than I thought possible.”

  “Ye awr a gran gerl, but da you ‘ave te bullocks ta stand wit ‘im fo’evr?” Colleen questioned. She died of dysentery crossing the Atlantic Ocean to escape the potato famine, never meeting the man who tantalized her dreams.

  Forever isn’t long enough when you fall in love with an immortal. “For however long I have left in this life, I will love him.”

  “That is not what we asked you,” someone snarled behind her.

  Stella turned and faced Frances. Born into King George’s court, she met Roman on her wedding day to a baron. An arranged marriage, the sixteen year old girl wed whom her family ordered and died during childbirth nine months later.

  “What—what do all of you want from me?” Stella yelled turning to face all of them.

  “We want what you have,” Elyssian spoke. “We want Roman.” Incredible longing laced her words and etched her face. All of them looked the same. “But it’s too late for us. Our time and chance has passed.”

  “Is it too late for me? Am I dead?”

  “Yes, but there’s still time,” Matilda said.

  “Not much,” Alice mumbled.

  “Time for what? Why are you talking in riddles?”

  “Do ye love ‘im, Stella?” Mary spoke up.

  “Yes. I love him.”

  “Enough for all of us?” Elyssian asked. “Not only for yourself, but all our love combined. Can you do that?”

  “Awr ye willin’ ta do it?” Colleen demanded. “Ta do wha ye needs ta do ta be wit ‘im fo’evr.”

  They drew
a line in the sand and dared her to cross. Demanded she cross. “I will do whatever it takes to be with him.”

  “And fight by his side. His enemies are your enemies,” Frances snarled.

  “Enough, Frances,” Matilda warned.

  “Before I give up what little I have left, I will know.” Frances demanded, violently shaking her head. “No more quibbling, back and forth nonsense. We all deserve to know if she’s the one. Otherwise, she can linger here with the rest of us and wait for the next reincarnation.”

  “All I want is him. All of him, whatever that encompasses. And he loves me.” She pressed her hand to her heart. “Not the memory.” She looked at Elyssian. “Not the promise.” She looked at Lauren and Alice. “I’ve held him in my arms, made love to him.” She met each of their gazes. “Confessed the secrets of my heart. He asked me to marry him.” Collectively, they gasped.

  “Weel, wha did ye say, gerl!” Colleen face mirrored all of their excitement.

  “I said hell yes!”

  A sigh passed from one woman to the next, and then they joined hands. “We give you all we have Stella Walker. We gift you our strength, to fight by his side. We gift you our heart to give to the man we all loved, but never had. We gift you what life we have left, to extend your years.” Matilda spoke.

  “And I gift you the best part of me.” The woman who helped her out of the pit joined the circle. She walked slowly as if considering every step. She seemed ancient, yet her smooth, tanned skin gave no clue to her age. The seven bowed to her, but she only looked at Stella.

  “Thank you for your love. You’re exactly what he needs,” she murmured and started to chant. The women joined her and one by one, their wispy forms entered Stella’s body. They merged, searing her soul with their passion for life and Roman. The last one was Elyssian. Her ghostly essence wavered like curling smoke, but her voice was clear.