Wraiths were unable to touch the Center World Others. The numerous species came from the middle of the earth, where they had lived for thousands of years. They had developed a shield of sorts that made them immune to the Wraiths’ powers. His best guess was that the minerals and heat from the center of the earth was what was protecting them. Whatever it was, Wraiths assisted with what they could to protect the humans against the CWOs, and the Senses eradicated them.
“Long Necks are banding with the vampires. Under control for now. It is the GQs that are still a dilemma.”
“Women are disappearing at a more alarming rate across the city,” Zurina said.
GQs were tricky for the Senses to detect, making it difficult to locate them, and when you did, they were even more challenging to kill. They were arrogant, determined males who used their good looks to lure women to their beds. They survived by sucking the air from the lungs of a human, which gave them about a month of life. Unfortunately, for their victims, it was the last bed they ever lay in as GQs rarely let them survive.
“We will assist human women with their senses,” Urtzi offered. In other words, heightening humans’ awareness of danger, although Waleron believed it would have little effect. The GQs were resilient, brutal, and they were spreading like a spider’s web across the Europe and North America.
Tor gave a satisfied nod.
The water in the fountain began to change to gold.
Waleron spoke before the transfer was complete. “Tarek will rise from Rest soon.”
“Yes,” Tor said.
The water became blue again.
“He is dangerous,” Waleron stated.
“He will have served his time,” Tor replied. His stare was fierce and solid as a rock. The Wraith had the ability to take away anyone’s sense of taste or give you a rancid taste you could never get rid of. Good thing he was the most controlled of the Wraiths.
“The warrior Delara will be at risk,” Waleron said.
“Perhaps. We do not know what he will be like after suffering Rest. Regardless, we do nothing, unless he breaks the law again,” Tor said.
What the hell was Edan’s problem? His eyes grew bright red, fire within their depths. If he wanted he could shoot a flame of fire from his eyes.
Waleron felt every muscle tense, his eyes narrowed, and the rage escalated at Tor’s candid reply. “He almost killed her,” Waleron growled with fury.
“This is not our issue, Waleron,” Tor replied. “We, including you, passed judgment for what he did. When his punishment is complete, he is free to return to his warriors. They trust him and he is relentless in pursing the Others. If he breaks the law again, then will we interfere.”
“He will seek revenge on Delara for speaking against him,” Waleron said. Blood dripped from his hand as his nails ripped into his palm.
“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Tor replied.
“She is my responsibility. I will not wait until he kills her for judgment.”
Tor’s fist thundered down on the table and the floor quaked. “You dare go against us.” Tor’s voice grew quiet. “You may be powerful, but break the laws and you will be judged. You are not immune, Waleron.”
Waleron tensed. His patience was gone; he clicked his Pez open and slipped one of the white pills into his mouth. Screw this. He’d deal with Tarek when he rose and damn them all. Tarek was his warrior and the man was violent. No Resting period was going to change that.
“You could ask Delara to be yours,” Genevieve suggested.
No, that was impossible. He was just as dangerous to her as Tarek was. Never.
Urtzi looked amused, his blue eyes dancing. “Yeah, right. Waleron? Marry?”
“He deserves death for what he did to her,” Genevieve stated. Waleron remembered that she had fought hard for the council to put Tarek to death.
“Enough!” Edan shouted. “Delara will be safe. I have matters to look after. We adjourn this meeting.”
Tor agreed and rose.
Waleron went to object when the water from the fountain changed back to golden. He grunted. To speak after the water had changed was unheard of.
He needed Tarek to remain in Rest. The bastard was vicious and a strong Tracker, which didn’t help matters. Tarek’s four warriors had been with him for centuries and they were waiting eagerly for him to rise from Rest. They’d been displeased with what had occurred with Delara, but they were loyal to Tarek and had refused to speak against him.
Tor stood and closed his eyes, then vanished into a cloud of red dust. Urtzi followed behind in a gust of wind and Edan a red fireball of light. Mariana followed behind. With a simple tug on one of her dreadlocks, she vanished.
Genevieve gracefully came to her feet. Her hair flowed like silk down her back. “You care for this Delara.” It was a statement.
“I protect all the Senses,” Waleron replied.
“Yes, you do, but some more than others.” She put her hands together above her head and her seductive body glowed blue and then swirled into a mist of water before disappearing. He heard her voice seep into his head despite the mind blocks he was careful to erect before coming to the realm.
“Beware, my friend. Delara has found another. She is no longer yours and that is your mistake.”
“Who?” Waleron demanded.
“You don’t deserve to know.”
****
When he arrived at Keir’s yesterday morning to turn himself in, it hadn’t been much of a surprise to the warriors to see him. Keir, Jedrik and Galen stood in the foyer and each gave a nod of greeting.
Waleron appeared within two seconds of him walking into the house and said two words “Stay here.” Yeah, like he had anywhere else to go. He was turning himself in.
Anstice was nowhere to be seen, which was a relief; he had enough to face without her looking at him with abhorrence. Keir set him up in a room in the basement, also known as the Tomb, and he had remained there for twelve hours before Waleron returned from council and bid him upstairs to the living room.
Waleron spoke. As usual, his voice was potent and abrupt. “It has been decided by the council that Balen will be sent to Rest for one year and exile for fifty years in the Pyrenees Mountains.” Waleron’s ice-blue eyes met Balen’s. “Speak if you wish.”
Balen felt a coldness sweep through him. He’d known this was coming, yet still being sent to Rest left an acrid taste. At least, he’d live. “I returned for one reason. Our law. It must be changed,” Balen said addressing all the warriors. “I’ve proven that consuming a vampire’s blood does not mean we have to become one of them.”
Keir raised his brows. “You challenge the law?”
“I do,” Balen stated. “Since I will be in Rest, I ask that the law be taken to council by one of you.”
“I second,” Jedrik said, raising his hand. “Always wanted to go to council and meet that hot Wraith Genevieve.”
Waleron held up his hand for silence as the warriors began to talk among themselves. “No warrior may go to council.” Jedrik scrunched his lips together with displeasure. “Although I agree with Balen, the law was put in place for a reason. A vampire’s blood is powerful and its effects are known to those who have succumbed to it. You may have been able to withstand its poison, but others may not.”
“Then contain them,” Jedrik suggested. “Until they fight it off or don’t. At least, they have a chance that way. Few of us are left. We need all who can be saved.”
“No warrior should drink the blasted stuff in the first place,” Damien shouted. “He deserves to die for such a pathetic act.”
Jedrik leapt from the couch so quick that even Waleron was taken aback. He managed to get a fist into Damien’s aristocratic face. Keir jumped on Jedrik, pulling him back before Damien had a chance to retaliate. Damien being among the deadliest warriors, it would have been a disaster for Jedrik’s welfare. The only other warrior comparable to Damien was Kilter, who lived on the East coast.
Damien had already been sent to Rest for beat
ing up another warrior and nearly killing him a few years ago. Unstable, dangerous, and now he’d have it out for Jedrik.
“The law will be reevaluated,” Waleron said. His eyes met Balen’s. “We leave immediately.”
Balen gave a single curt nod. If the law was changed, other warriors might be saved if they succumbed to vampire blood. One warrior’s life was significant, considering there were fewer of them than ever.
Jedrik let out a long explosion of air from between his lips, which caused them to rumble. “Sorry, man. This sucks big time.”
Balen shrugged. He deserved a worse fate. He accepted this, had returned to Toronto to face them, and yet still he feared what leaving would do to Danielle. Would she be safe? Would they protect her like one of their own?
“No.” A female voice blasted into the room from the doorway and all eyes turned.
Delara stood like a warrior ready for battle, wearing all black, leather boots climbing up her calves to her knees, with tight black jeans and a long black leather coat. Her flashing walnut eyes narrowed as she unflinchingly met each man’s stare. She had changed since leaving them minutes after Balen had two years prior. She appeared stronger, more determined. “Balen saved Danielle’s life. I witnessed what she suffered. We all did.” She turned to Balen. “You sacrificed yourself knowing that death awaited you for drinking Ryszard’s blood. It was not a betrayal, Green Eyes.”
“This is bullshit. The decision is not yours, Delara,” Damien growled from the other side of the room.
Balen never liked the guy; he had it out for women and was as crass as a pissed-off Rottweiler. He used to live in Florida, but when Ryszard had appeared, Waleron brought him to Toronto.
With Damien’s fierce expression, it was common for Delara to take her usual way out of facing an argument and leave, however this time, she glared back. “You’re being an ass. Just because you’ve been sent to Rest doesn’t mean others deserve the same fate. And obviously sending you to Rest did nothing for your spiteful disposition.”
Waleron stood three feet away from Delara and his eyes hadn’t left her since the moment she appeared. Cold and calculating, as if he were fighting a rage that had enveloped every molecule. “The council has made their decision, Delara.”
“Obviously, you didn’t fight hard enough. Appeal it.” Delara kept her voice controlled, but her face read “get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here.”
Jedrik cleared his throat with unease, and Keir’s younger brother Galen cursed beneath his breath.
Tension emanated, a heightening of powers as each went on guard. The click of the Pez dispenser sounded as Waleron took a candy from the red duck head.
Delara was petite, but her determination was visible with every tightened muscle. A bolt of lightning couldn’t break the magnetic stare she and Waleron shared.
“I will speak to you in private, Delara,” Waleron said. It was evident that Delara was blocking him from her mind; otherwise they’d have all the privacy needed, using telepathy.
Her brows raised a minute amount and the corners of her mouth went up. “That isn’t necessary.”
Waleron’s hands clenched, matching his jaw. His lips pursed and the books on the shelf behind Keir began to jiggle. The bar on the far side of the room shook and the air grew warm, as if his rage were heating the oxygen. “Delara,” Waleron cautioned in a husky voice filled with warning.
She had the nerve to ignore his threat. “I demand an appeal. And if you don’t ask for one, then I will.”
Silence.
Balen was surprised to find her mind was open to him. “Why do you help me, Delara?”
“Because I know what Danielle suffered, and you protected her despite the consequences to your own existence. But I am here to warn you that something has been done that cannot be taken back. She will feel immense . . . pain and then . . .”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Balen asked, his stomach dropping. “How do you know what she will and won’t feel?”
Delara’s gaze shifted to Waleron, and her expression hardened. “That’s why I’m here, Balen. I wouldn’t have returned otherwise. But I know what will happen if Waleron puts you to Rest. Danielle will die.”
“What?” Balen shouted and all eyes turned to him.
Delara grunted and her shoulders stiffened. Obviously, she hadn’t intended for the others to know that they had been speaking to one another. Why? Balen couldn’t begin to guess. Delara had never been a good friend of his. They’d fought together for a mere eight months, and forming any sort of friendship outside of that was null. He chose to live on his own, separate from the others at his own loft. Forming friendships with the other warriors had never been his prerogative.
Shit, Waleron looked livid. They were a fierce group; however, facing the wrath of Waleron was not on anyone’s list of things to do in an immortal lifetime. This time Delara attempted escape, but before she had the chance to make it from the room, Waleron raised his hands and, with nothing but a push in her direction, a wave of air sifted across the space between them and seeped into her petite figure.
She froze.
Without a word, Waleron walked from the room. Delara glanced at Balen and then followed. The door slammed behind her and Balen guessed that was Waleron’s way of saying, “No one move.”
“Don’t ever defy me again in front of the warriors,” Waleron said.
Okay, he was pissed. She had overstepped her bounds, big time. She’d trained to be a warrior and listen to her peers, but shit, she wanted to hurt Waleron the way she was hurting. But instead, all she’d done was release that immeasurable anger. Fuck, she should’ve never come back. But coming here had been forced upon her, and defying the order was not in her best interest, nor was it in Balen and Danielle’s.
“You send him to Rest, the girl Danielle will die,” Delara said in a calm straightforward manner, although inside she was spinning out of control. She had to get away, leave here before her heart exploded again. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t live like that.
“You mean she will commit suicide?”
“No. I mean she will suffer and then die.”
“You speak riddles, Delara, and I grow weary of it. And lower your block.”
Delara would never let him read her thoughts again. It would be like allowing him to strip her naked, touch her flesh and then have him walk away. Screw that. “If Balen is sent to Rest, she will die. If he is exiled . . . depending on how far he goes, well . . . she will suffer every minute he is away from her.”
“Delara, what are you talking about?” Waleron looked uncertain, eyes widening and his stance shifting, which was unusual. He was characteristically steady as a rock. Well, he had the right to be unsure.
As soon as the judgment was passed, she’d been approached. Once she heard what had been done, she had no choice but to come here and warn Waleron. If she hadn’t, Danielle would die and that was unacceptable to her as well as the one who had dealt the blasted situation.
“She is human. She cannot survive if he is away from her. I can’t tell you how I know this, but you must trust me on this.” Yeah, swearing to keep the culprit under wraps sucked, but blackmail spoke volumes. She had no intention of letting anyone know where the hell she’d been spending her nights recently. Most of all Waleron, as it was against the warriors’ code to do as she was.
“That trust left the day you walked away from us, Delara.” Waleron’s eyes roamed over her body and she knew he was trying to make her feel uneasy, get her to cave and explain herself.
“Pez, you will kill her. Do not put him in Rest. ”
“Who is responsible for this meddling?” Waleron began pacing and her uneasiness climbed. He rarely paced. Steady as a fuckin’ mountain. Well, the mountain was having an avalanche right now and she was sitting at the bottom.
“I can’t . . . shit.” Okay, lie when you have to. So not her style. So not a warrior’s style. “I’m uncertain and it could cause a great disservice if I name the wrong
person.” He’d smell her lie a mile away. Big problem with Senses, one way or another, they’d figure you out. Learning to block your thoughts was of highest priority, considering all of them had the capability.
“Who?” Waleron repeated.
Blast it all. He was pounding on the door of her mind, and if he broke the barrier down he’d find out the who and she’d be up shit creek. “I . . . I . . .” Goddamn Waleron was forcing her to tell the truth. She fought his power, a struggle of mind that he would soon win. A sudden sharp pain came bolting through her body and she staggered, falling to her knees.
“What the hell?” Waleron came to her side, his hand reaching out to touch her, but she leapt to her feet and jumped backwards. His touch would heighten his ability to get into her mind, something she could never allow.
“Don’t touch me,” Delara said. Okay, get this done and leave. “If you care at all for Balen and Danielle, listen to me. Do not put him in Rest.” She felt the other in her head trying to read her thoughts. The push was debilitating, and she winced as she lowered her block. The coldness seeped through her body and then words that warned her to leave.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Waleron’s voice became stronger and he Traced to stand in front of her, stopping any escape. “Answer me!”
“I came here to warn you. I’ve done that. Whether it has done any good remains to be seen,” Delara said. “I must leave. I will return if the warriors are in need.” She saw his face blanch and then his eyes flashed red. “Let me go, Waleron. You’ve been quite eager to do it before. It’s the same process.”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you in trouble?”
A whole hell of a lot. “Just do as I say.”
She walked around him, ignoring the fear she heard in his voice. “I can force you to stay.”
“Yes,” she said, not turning. “But Tarek already did that and look what happened.” She knew that would get to him. If the pain weren’t so intense, she’d actually smile. Waleron was feeling—what a concept.
“Stay,” Waleron said. “Because I ask it of you.”
She stumbled. God, did he have to say that?
JUMP (The Senses) Page 11
