Her eyes alone could melt a man’s heart and bring him to his knees by her sophisticated beauty. Inquisitive and yet diffident, her eyes sparkled a cerulean blue when calm and changed to a deep golden when in turmoil. He sensed that beneath her apparent quiet nature lay an impish woman. Despite knowing the Wraiths for three centuries, he didn’t live among them, and therefore he couldn’t be definite as to what Genevieve was really like.
Waleron approached the table and made a subtle bow with his head and met the gaze of each council member. There were four Wraiths, a witch, and then himself and Zurina on behalf of the Senses. One remained absent from the council meeting, Enid, the Goddess who created them all. Attending a council meeting to discuss a Senses’ fate was too far beneath her to even consider making her presence known.
The Wraiths had abilities to control certain aspects of nature and were nonviolent. Their weakness was fighting against the evil that walked in the shadows of the human world, which was where the Senses excelled. By combining their capabilities, they had been able to control the evil that continued to rise among them.
His eyes met Mariana, the representative of the witches’ covens, who sat at the far right of the table beside Edan. She wore a white silk double-breasted coat that clung to every curve of her sensual body. Her long hair hung over her left shoulder in a swirl of pure ebony with three dreadlocks on the right side of her brow line. Skin alabaster, eyes dark walnut, lips narrow, which she loved to run her tongue across. She had an incredible ability to read thoughts, even his, which never sat well with him, considering he could block all others from entering his mind. In the hundreds of years he’d known her, she’d never once revealed any of his thoughts; for that the seductive witch had gained his respect. However, trusting any witch completely was just not a viable option for him.
He took his place beside Zurina, a Senses like himself, on the far left of the table. She smiled, and he in return bowed his head. She had a calm demeanor with wisdom and compassion. Her strength spoke volumes as she had three of the senses—a Taster, Visionary and Healer. She also had the gift of Tracing, meaning she could teleport to places she had previously been. Any who sat on council was given this ability.
Flames flickered on pedestals in the four corners of the room. A fountain of a woman and man entwined in one another’s arms stood in the center. In one hand the man held a flame rising from his palm, and the woman had a flower tucked behind her ear. She had long flowing hair that billowed around them as if it had been swept up by a gentle breeze. A stream of water curved in an arc between their bodies into an eight-point marble pool that had soft pink pebbles on the bottom. The water from the spout was golden, but as it hit the pool, it became cerulean blue.
A gust of air swept across his shaved head.
“For the excellence of nature, for the peace of all living and for the good of the universe, we join together,” Tor, the Wraith of Earth said in a raspy voice. The hint of cinnamon drifted into the air as he spoke. He changed scents every so often, but cinnamon was one of his favorites. Waleron hated all the scents; cinnamon pissed him off the most.
Tor met each of their eyes, giving a nod in greeting, and then paused on Genevieve. She in turn raised her slender hands towards the fountain and the water from the spout turned blue, matching that in the pool.
The meeting began.
Edan, Wraith of Fire, spoke first. He was explosive, quick tempered and didn’t know the meaning of patience. He had been known to steal the sight from humans when they did something that irked him—only ever for a few minutes or seconds, as Wraiths were not to interfere with humans lives unless imperative. “He evaded us for two years. He’s physically powerful and must be put to Rest immediately.”
Waleron fiddled with the Pez dispenser in his right coat pocket. The thought of any going to Rest left him perturbed. Rest was for the treacherous, the dangerous, and the few Senses who turned immoral. Re-living your nastiest memories in a coma-like state was described as hell. No, worse than that. It was a constant movie of your worst thoughts being played repetitively until your Rest period was complete. Tarek deserved such a fate. Balen did not.
He had run out of options though. For two years, he’d fought the Wraiths over leaving Balen’s fate in the hands of the Senses, but the law had been written by the merged Wraiths and Senses. Balen had drunk vampire blood and he was guilty. There was nothing more he could do except try to coerce the others to give a lesser sentence.
He felt the tension and power emanating from every one of them. Edan’s was pulsating from his body. The Wraith had no qualms about showing his magnitude.
Tor said, “We discuss the issue of Balen. A Senses and Tracker of the House in Toronto.” He glared at Edan for speaking before the issue had been announced. Edan sneered while leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms and waiting for Tor to finish. “He drank the blood of Ryszard, vampire. He betrayed Anstice, his blood sister. His fate is in the embrace of the council. Speak, Waleron, on behalf of your warrior.”
Waleron felt the apprehension in the room, anger, sorrow and uncertainty. Emotions were high as this was an usual circumstance. Balen had betrayed his oath, but he’d also saved a human from certain slavery or the lesser sentence—death. It spoke well for him that he had returned; however, for two years, he had run and evaded them all. The decision would be difficult.
“Balen broke our law and drank the blood of a vampire. That alone is cause for death. His guilt is known to us all. He invited Ryszard into the house of Trinity, witch of the coven in Toronto where Anstice, our Healer, was being concealed.” Waleron watched their expressions, noticing that Edan’s body was glowing a burnt orange color. Pissed and volatile like usual. “Balen, the son of the late Lillian, ancient Healer, and John, Tracker, has no remorse for what he has done. However, he did what no other has managed. He drove the tainted blood from inside him.”
Urtzi, Wraith of Air, spoke in a tone that was like a caress of a feather as his sky-blue eyes met Waleron’s. “Did he return by his own free will?” Urtzi was in a good mood as his voice today was pleasant. When he was angered, his voice replicated a fingernail on a chalkboard.
Waleron gave a curt nod.
“And he fought the blood without harming humans?” Urtzi asked.
Waleron nodded again.
“Then we must take that into consideration,” Urtzi said, his eyes matching the ease in his relaxed manner. His blue-and-white-streaked hair ruffled as he spoke, and air sifted through the room. “He also saved a human. A woman—Danielle—friend of Anstice, and an innocent of the circumstances.”
A fist slammed on the table and Waleron didn’t have to look to know Edan was the offender. Genevieve sucked air into her lungs, and her shoulders tensed.
“He broke the law,” Edan shouted.
“Voice,” Tor warned.
Edan shot him a glare but lowered his tone. “It’s simple. He broke his oath to protect his kind above all others. Rest—two hundred years.”
“The human Danielle would have become a slave,” Zurina objected. Her golden hair was like a mane of an Andalusian horse, thick waves reaching the small of her back. She met Edan’s deadly glare without hesitation. This was why she’d been chosen to sit on council with him. She had a majestic strength that was respected by all. Edan looked away from her first.
“He also betrayed the witches by inviting Ryszard into their house,” Mariana pointed out. Waleron was hoping to keep the witches’ involvement out of this. He’d had to do some major smoothing over with Trinity after what had happened. Sleeping with her for a week to be exact. Not something he ever wished to do again. She was a domineering seductress who dealt a hard bargain. The Senses and the Witches were on good terms as long as neither got in the others’ way. Upon occasion, they assisted one another, however some kind of payment was usually involved.
“None were harmed,” Zurina said. “Nor was Anstice or any of the Senses.”
Tor was short, broad, muscular and
rarely smiled, which explained his void expression. “We all know what he has done. We’ve been over this a thousand times.” He paused. “It has come to our attention that he has grown close to this woman he saved. Will this become a problem? Has he revealed us to her?”
“No,” Waleron said. “He has not and would not.”
“I do sense a connection between them,” Tor continued. “It is strong and he protects this human.”
“Yes,” Waleron said. He had hoped they hadn’t been paying attention to Danielle, as becoming involved with a human was forbidden.
He felt Genevieve shift in her high-backed chair and his eyes shot to her. She quickly looked away, lowering her gaze. What was that? His suspicion arose and he wished he could penetrate her mind; however, Wraiths were impossible to read. “It is the law for Senses to protect humans,” he reminded them.
Edan scoffed. “Fuck that, Waleron. You know damn well he protects this woman not because of law, but because he wants to screw her.”
Waleron tightened his grip on his Pez as the rage surfaced. He took a deep breath without allowing the others to be aware of it. Goddamn Wraith was an unpredictable bastard. Supposedly, the only time he was agreeable was when he had a woman in his bed to soothe his emotions.
“He loves her.” Genevieve’s voice drizzled across the room like maple syrup.
“He feels guilt for what Ryszard did to her. That is not love,” Edan retorted.
Urtzi spoke, his voice quiet. “I agree. The connection is strong.”
Waleron watched the Wraith of Water carefully. She was uneasy and . . . he sensed something else, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
Zurina said, “A Senses cannot be with a human, whether he loves her or not. He knows this.”
“I’ve felt the pull between them,” Urtzi said. “The taste is overwhelming. It has spoken and wants them together.”
“Bullshit, Urtzi,” Edan shouted. “You taste any woman on your tongue, whether it’s love or lust. Forget her, this concerns Balen.”
Urtzi had the ability to taste what was between humans. Depending on the emotion, his taste changed. He remained aloof to getting close to any human as it weighed heavy on him. Anger was most difficult as the taste in his mouth became vile. He compared it to rotten milk. If Urtzi tasted love—a chocolate taste—it would be easier to convince him that Balen deserved to live.
Tor was another matter, since he detested deceit and he’d want retribution. He also had no love for humans as he didn’t trust any of them. Rumor was that he had once loved a human, a woman who had broken that trust. You didn’t deceive a Wraith if you wanted to live. No one knows what happened to her and she was never spoken of.
Tor spoke. “This matter isn’t about the woman . . . as Edan has so eloquently put it. Balen will be reprimanded for what he has done. We cannot allow him to walk free and resume his status as a warrior when he has become untrustworthy.” He paused for effect. “However, he saved the life of a . . . human, which is also our law. Therefore, this must be taken into account. I, Wraith of Earth, vote that Balen, son of Lillian and John, be sent to Rest for ten years and exile for one hundred years.”
A gasp escaped Genevieve. Everyone’s eyes darted to her and she quickly lowered her head.
Edan jumped on the reaction. “Speak.”
The water in the fountain began to bubble and steam rose from the surface. Christ, she was in a state of panic, and if someone didn’t calm her, they’d all be immersed in water before long.
“I disagree,” Waleron said, keeping his eyes on the fountain. “Sent to Rest is harsh. It must be remembered that no one was harmed by what he did.” The water remained simmering like a pot of boiling water. “Balen has protected us for three centuries and is trustworthy. He was under great duress with the torture he suffered.”
“Calm yourself, Genevieve,” Urtzi said in a soothing tone. A cool breeze drifted across the room and wafted through Genevieve’s golden mane.
“What’s with you?” Edan said with a snarl. He detested Genevieve, considering her weak and too sympathetic. Waleron’s guess was that she refused to sleep with him.
Waleron felt Zurina in his mind. “She is hiding something.”
“Yes,” Waleron replied.
“Perhaps she cares for this Balen?”
Waleron doubted it. Genevieve’s strength was emotions. Feeling the emotions between Danielle and Balen had to be difficult for her when she knew that they would be separated. The water rose to the rim of the marble pool and he heard Tor swear. He reached out his hand and touched Genevieve on the shoulder. Tor closed his eyes and the water slowly began to sink back down until the liquid lay quiet again.
“Waleron,” Tor said. “What say you?”
His eyes traveled to each member of the council, feeling each of their powers shift through his body. The last was Edan, who raised his brows and had the nerve to shoot him a fuck-you look. He let the corners of his lips curve up for a split second. “Balen is my responsibility. I failed him that night. Therefore, I will take blame for what occurred.” Murmurs rose among them. His voice hard and unrelenting broke through them. “Decide my fate,” Waleron said.
“Aw, fuck,” Edan rolled his eyes. “Give me a break. Taking his punishment? Are you for real?”
“No,” Tor said. He met Waleron’s eyes and gave a nod of respect. “Even though I understand your need to protect one of your own in this instance, I cannot allow it. The CWOs are spreading and growing wiser. You are needed.”
Zurina gave him a half-smile. She understood and he had no doubt, she would do the same for a warrior who she believed deserved leniency.
Mariana, who’d been uncommonly quiet, twirled her finger around her hair. “The woman survived. He saved her life. Commendation. Swallowed the disgusting poisoned blood and led the vamp to the witches coven—Rest for two years and exile for one hundred years. It is not such a bad fate.”
Urtzi took a deep breath and you could see the cool air exhale like a mist from his mouth. “I will agree to this . . . if his exile is in the Pyrenees Mountains.”
Waleron knew this was a lenient fate considering the Wraiths were unpredictable and never strayed from the laws. Balen broke it. Simple. Yet still accepting was difficult to swallow. He suspected he could push to get the sentence lessened.
He had to approach this tactfully. “His blood is pure. This alone shows his strength as a warrior. One that is needed. The Center World Others are stronger than ever. This must be taken into deliberation.”
Edan slammed his fist onto the table. “Bullshit. He broke the law. We cannot pick and choose who isn’t susceptible to the laws that were made for the benefit of us all.”
Zurina met Edan’s eyes without flinching. “None have been able to fight off the blood before. Therefore, this situation is unusual. I agree with Waleron.”
“You would,” Edan muttered.
Tor raised his hand as voices grew in argument. “The law as it stands says that any who drink blood of a vampire must be killed. However, Balen lives and walks this earth. We have been lenient to allow this and have already defied our own laws.” Waleron’s left cheek twitched and his grip on his Pez tightened. More like Balen had evaded them for two years and they were pissed. “Waleron’s point is taken. Balen’s strength is imposing. Therefore, losing him as a warrior for a century is detrimental to the Senses. Rest for one year for his betrayal of his sister, and exile fifty years for breaking our law.”
Waleron knew what Tor offered was merciful considering Balen must have pissed them off big time for dodging them for two years. If he pushed any further, Edan and . . . he looked at Mariana—yes, she was displeased with Tor’s suggestion—might argue the merciful judgment.
“I will fight this if you desire,” Zurina said.
Waleron hesitated. Yes, she would. Backing down from anything wasn’t something Zurina did. No. Balen broke the law. We push the issue any further, they will retaliate. We must uphold the laws as sp
oken and written by the council.
Waleron gave a slight nod. “I will consent to this.”
Zurina and Urtzi also agreed. Edan swore and fumed to himself for several minutes, but he knew he was outnumbered. He gave a curt nod and Mariana soon followed. Only Genevieve had to give her answer and she looked like she was going to pass out. Her face almost translucent, eyes no longer blue, but a scintillating gold. Unable to meet any of their eyes, she kept her hands clasped beneath the table, but he could sense they were trembling. He was curious to know why she was so uneasy this night. She normally had a calm demeanor and kept her thoughts to herself.
“Genevieve, we must have your consent,” Tor said, being careful not to set her off again by keeping his voice in a soothing tone.
“Come on, Gen, I have shit to do,” Edan said.
“What?” Mariana asked. “A woman tied to your bed, begging for mercy?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Edan replied. He glanced at Waleron and a smile formed. “A remarkable woman who begs for my touch.” He raised his brows and his handsome face was filled with amusement. “My woman is . . . willing to try anything once.” He turned from Waleron and let his eyes travel across the length of Mariana. “Care to join us?”
They all noticed the slight hesitation. “No, I don’t sleep with men who have to tie up a woman in order for their submission.”
Tor interrupted before Edan released his fury. “Genevieve, if you will.”
“Yes,” she conceded. And then to his surprise her body language changed. She straightened in her seat, her eyes widening with a delightful sparkle. A hint of a smile formed on her angelic lips. He’d give anything to be able to read what wheels were turning in her mind because something drastic had changed.
“Then it has been decided. Waleron, we leave Balen’s sentence in your hands,” Tor said. “Now, what of Center World Others? Any progress?” He looked to Waleron.
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