“What intentions?” He wished he had his damn Pez. Control was fading fast.
“They suffered. They survived what few have ever experienced. I felt it the moment they met in that dungeon of Ryszard’s. Their connection is strong. It came through me like a lightening bolt the moment they met.” She backed up a step and her eyes blazed a brilliant green. “Then your warrior left with no intentions of returning. She was tortured with his memory. When he returned . . . I had to do something.”
“You Bonded them?” Waleron roared skyward. “You almost killed her with your meddling.”
“I meant no harm. I didn’t consider that his judgment would be so harsh. He saved her life.”
“She’s human,” Waleron shouted.
“Yes. But love conquers all.”
“Bull. You were wrong. Undo it,” Waleron said.
“No.” Her head tilted up and her shoulders stiffened. “It has worked out for the better.”
Waleron ran at her, rage taking control. His hands raised to throw her back against the unrelenting wall. She remained immobile and he figured out why when the gold bands around his wrists and ankles tightened and he was thrown against the opposite wall like a magnet. He tried to move, but the bands locked him in place.
The roar that emerged from his throat was deafening. “Release me!”
“It is not I. The bands know when you aim to seek harm.” She sighed. “If I undo the Bond, Balen will accept his fate and be sent to Rest.”
“She will die if the others capture him.” Waleron’s voice was low and deadly. He felt the blood boiling in his veins, his heart pounding.
“No. Now she will become a Senses.”
He growled. “It has never been done before and it could kill her. You risk her life, for what—love? They don’t even know one another. What they feel right now is your stupid Bond.” She was cunning, more so than he had anticipated. “You planned this. You knew the moment judgment passed on Balen that your Bond would kill Danielle. You had Delara come to me and give warning. You set this in motion, knowing I’d never allow Danielle to die.”
“Yes. She will make the transition and they will have eternity together.”
“You believe in this crap, Genevieve? A love that can withstand centuries?”
“You have seen it—”
“And it always destroys them. As it will Balen. He will die if she does. He will be weak and forget that he is a warrior first and foremost.”
“Like you. You want your warrior to be just like you. Alone and with nothing to lose.”
“It happened already. Balen betrayed us, his sister, his blood for her.” The bands released and he lowered his arms, the sting dissipating in his ankles and wrists.
“But you fight for them. Why?”
“Because he is my warrior. She is a friend to our Healer.”
Genevieve took a deep breath. “I must go. When the time is right I will come for you.” She closed her eyes and then dissolved into a swirling mist and vanished before he had the chance to find out why she would be coming for him.
Within seconds, he discovered why Genevieve had taken off so abruptly. “What have you done, Waleron?”
The voice was soft with a sweet lull, but he knew beneath that voice was a spirit of magnitude. The Goddess Enid tolerated nothing except her orders being followed. He had met her two times in his life—when he was a child and again after he escaped the Lilac Center World Other who nearly destroyed him.
Coldness seeped into the room as if he were standing in a freezer. A hint of Ralph Lauren’s Romance—she had a thing for it—hit him and then she appeared in human form. She could appear as anything, but she took on the form of whatever she was engaging.
He remained silent. She knew what he’d done; the other Wraiths would have informed her in detail.
Her long floor-length hair was parted in the middle, half cerulean blue and the other half white. It was a stark contrast, and well, she knew it. She always liked being unique.
“You defied judgment. Why?” Her features remained still and impassive, voice quiet and soft, but it was in her eyes that he read the anger. Colors constantly changing like a rainbow, never remaining the same for longer than a few seconds.
His body was reacting, shaking and beginning to perspire despite the nonexistent temperature. He clasped and unclasped his fists. Control. Lose it now and she’d chain him in this room for eternity.
“A human would have died if Balen was sent to Rest. They are Bonded,” Waleron stated.
“Why did you not mention this at the judgment?”
“I did not know then,” he replied. His rage was clawing at his insides, wanting to be released, eager to taste blood, rip apart anything that could satisfy the rage. The tattoo on his neck began to slither across his skin, and he knew soon he’d have no control. The bands on his wrists tightened and he took several deep breaths. He needed his Pez and fast. Trapped in a room with a female raised his fury to a boiling point. A reminder of his past that he had trouble keeping bogged down without his Pez.
“Who Bonded them?”
Waleron hesitated. So she didn’t know one of her own was responsible? Interesting. Well, he had no intention of informing her of Genevieve’s meddling, as he might yet require the Wraith of Water’s assistance to get him out of here.
“I do not repeat myself,” she said.
“And I don’t answer to you,” Waleron said. He was eager for the harsh retaliation. He knew pain, lived it, and it had become a familiar and comforting emotion. He never feared it, not like the rage that lived hovering close to the surface, ready to be released.
Instead, she laughed, her head thrown back and a wide smile gracing her exotic mouth. “The ever-defiant one. I knew that was why I liked you. Just like your mother. You realize that you are the only one ever to speak to me as such. Refreshing and . . . deadly. Have it your way, you will remain here until Balen is brought to justice.” The smile disappeared. “You will be free to walk among us here as a sign of respect. However, the bands will remain.
“I know of your rage, Waleron. It is to remain intact whilst living among us, or you will spend your days here in this room, which I know it is the last place on earth you would choose to be.”
Before she evaporated, she floated into the air and peered at him. “I hope for your sake that this matter is resolved. It would displease me greatly to have to replicate your mother’s fate.”
“Like it matters to me,” Waleron retorted. Death. It would end his torment, stop the rage, the constant need to fulfill the hunger. It called to him every second of every day. He found one thing that calmed it and yet the thought of death was . . . he’d never leave his warriors to fight alone. He’d never leave her to survive this world without him.
Enid tilted her head and for several seconds, her eyes remained a bright gold. “I like you, Waleron. A great deal. But remember, without me, you and your warriors will cease to exist.”
“And without us, you will have no one to fight the Center World Others.”
“Touché,” she said. “Well then, it is in our best interests to continue to work together. For the good of all.” Her figure began to dissolve into particles of brightly-colored specks, and then she disappeared, taking the coldness with her.
The wall in front of him dissolved into nothing and before him was the council room with the fountain. Shit, the Wraiths had more power than they knew what to do with. He rubbed the bands that encased his wrists. One thing was for certain, he was needed elsewhere, and despite their powers they always had a weakness.
He walked through the council room, down a hall and into what looked like a garden with dozens and dozens of red and white roses. He ignored the glorious flowers and walked the path, headed where, he had no clue, but someplace other than that room he had been trapped in.
His breath sucked from his lungs, and his body froze. The familiar scent slammed into him like a brick wall. He’d never forget it, couldn’t even with all
his capabilities. It was one thing he could never get rid of.
Her footsteps.
Her breath.
She was here. Behind him.
He turned.
Chapter 10
Danielle slept for several hours on and off. When she woke she found her hand cradled in his. And it felt good. Okay, she had decided to leave the commitment stuff alone. Besides, she had no choice at the moment anyway, Bonded to him and all. Might as well make the best of it. She had to admit, she wanted him. Just thinking about him made her body heat up like a firecracker.
“You know what?” Danielle said as she fiddled with changing the channels on the radio. “I don’t even know what music you like.” She glanced up at him and saw him shrug, his eyes focused on the road. “No favorite bands? Come on. ’Fess up, Bale.”
“Bale?” He frowned at the nickname.
It was her turn to shrug. “Yeah, I like it. Short, sweet, and—” she gave an exaggerated sigh, “—my favorite actor’s last name. Christian Bale. So hot in Batman Begins. I mean, I’d jump his bones in a second, no introduction needed.”
“You will not,” Balen said in a low, gravelly voice.
She gave her most innocent expression. “Oh, I most definitely would. Did you see the movie? That man comes knocking on my door—”
She didn’t have the chance to finish as he cupped her chin with his hand. “Stay away from this man. And I do not like the name Bale.”
She adored the way his finger stroked her chin. His eyes remained on the road, and it was a small movement that just felt . . . shit, it felt sweet. She grabbed his finger with her lips and drew it into her mouth. His body tensed and his eyes roamed over to her face. “Mmm, so delicious I could . . .”
The car swerved onto the shoulder and Balen pulled his hand away to get control. After the initial scare, Danielle laughed, her hand playfully hitting his chest. “Was I distracting you?”
“You do that again and we are stopping this car. And I have no care whether anyone sees what I will do to you on the side of the road.”
Danielle smiled. “Is that a promise?”
He made a low growl in his chest and then laughed. Danielle tilted her head, listening to the sound. She’d heard it once before, and each time it was so real and true, like it came from his soul. She could listen to him laugh day in and day out without ever tiring of the comforting sound.
“What?” Balen asked.
“Aren’t you reading my thoughts?”
“No. It is disrespectful to read others thoughts unless it is imperative. We communicate through our minds, but try to refrain from taking on others’ thoughts for privacy reasons. You can learn to block others, but it takes skill and constant vigilance. To the ancients, it is natural.”
“Are you an ancient?” She leaned her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. His heart pumped beneath her palm, and she found it remarkable that her own heart skipped and then took the same beat as his. Weird.
“Yes. Would you like to know how old I am?”
She clucked her tongue. “Will I be totally turned off? Because I never date men more than ten years older. Not happening, rule.”
“Then it is left unsaid,” Balen replied.
She laughed. “Just tell me.”
He hesitated. “One hundred and ninety-six.”
“Holy shit.” Danielle sat up and stared at him with mouth gaping. His face was dead serious and the realization that he was immortal, that his kind lived for centuries, came barreling into her like a load of cement. When she saw his face, she knew her outburst had hurt him. “I didn’t mean it’s a bad thing. It just freaked me out for a sec. It’s hard to imagine someone living that long and looking . . . as delectable as you.” That did it. Okay, he was grinning. “So when we do this thing, this transformation, will I stay this young-looking for the rest of my life?”
“How old are you?” Balen asked.
“Twenty-nine.”
“We stop aging at thirty-two.” He pulled the car off a side street and turned down a dark dirt road.
“Sweet,” she said. “No more anti-aging creams and worrying about varicose veins and sagging boobs.”
He said with all seriousness, “I’d still want you.”
She ignored the comment because it scared her. She disliked how he always spoke as if they’d be together forever. “So, we stopping soon?”
“We are near Ryker’s place. We’ll stay there until Waleron calls to let us know that the plane has arrived. I’m hoping it’s already here, but getting it off the ground in T.O. without the Wraiths knowing will be tricky.”
She crossed her legs. “Okay, all that aside, can you give me a timeline here, because I drank a lot of water and my bladder is bursting.”
Balen raised his brows. “Do you ever not say it like it is? No, don’t answer that. I think I already know.” He slowed the car. “I could pull over?”
She made a disgusted noise. “You concentrate on finding me a washroom fast. One with four walls and a toilet.”
He put his foot back down on the gas and the car skidded forward. “How long?”
“Before what?” Danielle asked confused.
“Before it bursts?” Balen was grinning.
Danielle laughed. She liked that she could feel so comfortable talking to him. Usually, guys were taken back by her forwardness, but Balen adapted to her nature and it made her feel like she’d known him for ages. “Five minutes.”
“Arrival in two. One minute introductions and then I will scurry you to the closest washroom.”
“Deal,” Danielle said.
****
Delara had no place to run. He’d already sensed her behind him. Christ, this was the worst possible scenario. She never intended him to find out she was here. It was her haven away from him, away from the constant torture of his memory invading her mind. Was she ready? Had she healed enough to finally close the door on him? Every time she saw him, she became stronger. Maybe this time it wouldn’t hurt as much.
Yeah, right.
“What the hell are you doing here, Delara?” His voice was cruel, low and husky. She knew that voice and it made her want to run, leg muscles twitching to take the familiar road and escape. It wasn’t because she feared him, but because it brought back memories.
No, she had come here to face her fears. She’d learned to control the urge. Edan had taught her that.
His hands were curled into fists at his sides. “Answer me,” Waleron shouted.
She jerked. It was rare he shouted unless provoked. He had control, steady and stable, but it was different today. His rage was at the surface and it scared the shit out of her. He’d never harm her, she reminded herself. He wasn’t Tarek.
Her eyes drifted to his fists. When she looked back up at him, she saw the flicker of . . . unease. That was impossible. But as he strode towards her, she noticed his hands uncurl. Three steps, two steps, one step. The air left her lungs as his scent barreled into her.
His voice softened a touch. “Delara, answer me.”
She licked her dry lips and straightened her back as she faced the one man who had broken her heart. No, she was strong now. Her heart had repaired. He meant nothing to her. Before she could say one word to explain to her Taldeburu how she had come to be with the Wraiths, a ball of fire appeared and Edan flashed into human form beside her. His arm went around her waist and he pulled her against his side.
It was the first time she’d ever seen Waleron surprised, but it was quick like a lightning strike. Brows raised, eyes wide and mouth open. The tattoo on his neck twitched. Then the stunned look disappeared and was replaced with the familiar resolve of a man with power and control.
“Edan.” Waleron bowed his head with respect and Edan returned the gesture.
Edan half smiled. “So, it appears that you’ve discovered our little secret.” He shrugged as if he didn’t care that anyone knew Delara was living in the realm.
“She is a warrior, Edan,” Waler
on reminded him.
Delara stiffened. “I can go wherever I please.”
Waleron hesitated, his eyes delving into hers like a dagger. “Yes. But not here.”
“She is mine now,” Edan stated.
Delara stepped from his embrace and glared at both men. “I belong to no one. Got that, boys?” Edan should know better. He knew she hated being referred to as a possession. But when men’s testosterone rose, it became a war of who owned the woman. God, men were such imbeciles.
“You are right, my dear,” Edan quickly rectified. “I deeply apologize.” He bowed his head respectfully.
Delara laid her hand on his forearm. “Can you give us a minute?”
Edan hesitated, and she knew he was thinking of refusing the request by the way his eyes flashed to Waleron with disgust. He gave a slight nod and then he disappeared in the same fashion that he’d appeared.
“You cannot stay here,” Waleron said as soon as Edan had disappeared.
“I—”
“No.” Waleron raised his voice.
She noticed the uncertainty as he looked at her, eyes roaming over her body and then up to meet her eyes. She saw pain. His pain. It was there in the red glint of his gaze, and she had to step back to keep from throwing herself into his arms. Arms that had refused to hold her, to believe in what they had.
“You are a warrior, a Tracker,” Waleron said. “You belong.” He hesitated, and then he made a gesture that she had never seen before. He ran his hand over his shaved head. Frustration. That steady, cold reserve had escaped him. “With us.”
Not with me. Not in his arms or in his bed, by his side. It was with us, the warriors. The same old thing. She knew this. This was why she had escaped. She promised herself that it was over. She was stronger now.
She tilted her chin up and met his stare. This was finished. She would end this now for her sake, for her heart, for her sanity. “You’ve ripped my heart out for the last time, Waleron.” She saw him jerk at the sound of his name, instead of his nickname. “You destroyed my heart. You took it and then threw it away like garbage. I deserve better than you can ever give me.” She hesitated for a second, collecting herself. “Know this, Waleron. I am taking my heart back. It will never in all eternity belong to you again. Never.”
JUMP (The Senses) Page 18
