JUMP (The Senses)

by Cindy Paterson

  “Delara, I . . .” Waleron for once in his life stumbled on his words. “I want . . . I need . . .” And then he said a word that she had never heard pass his lips. “Please, I need . . . time.”

  One measly word wasn’t going to do it. “You had time. It’s too late. I have nothing left,” Delara said. “Unlike you, I believe in love.” She raised her voice, “Love, Waleron. Something you will never know. Or rather . . . want to know.”

  “Give me . . . Delara, just . . .” He closed his eyes for several seconds. “I need . . .”

  “Need. You need. It’s always what you need. Leave me the hell alone.” She turned. For once she felt relief. Free from the pain that kept her locked in Waleron’s web.

  She walked away and the hope that he would call out to her had vanished. That part of her heart was gone. He was too late. She didn’t want him. His cold, calculating ways, that dark side that kept him from getting close to anyone. Why had it taken so long? Why had she kept this small part of herself locked on to him? It had released like freeing a shackle from her leg. She said good-bye. Good-bye was forever.

  But this time he did call out. This time he came after her and she had no desire to turn back.

  “Delara,” Waleron said, his voice cracking.

  No words could stop her this time. Not even . . .

  “I . . . still love . . .” His voice was unfamiliar. Haunted and soft, like a feather sweeping across her body.

  But she kept walking. They were words. Only words, and nothing he said would ever make her go back to what she’d suffered. The trust had been blown into oblivion and dispersed across the earth like tiny molecules unable to bind together again.

  As she turned the corner out of sight, she felt the wind drift across her body, his scent carried on the breeze to surround her. She knew he had done it, maybe hoping she’d stop, hoping that the words he spoke years too late would make her hesitate. But words were not enough anymore.

  She stopped dead as Waleron materialized in front of her. She felt Edan in her mind, offering strength and yet keeping his distance, knowing after hours of talking that she needed to do this on her own.

  Waleron grabbed her hand. “I will try,” he said. His fingers curled around hers and she felt him attempt to draw her closer. She stood her ground, keeping her heart steady and rhythmic.

  “That’s not good enough,” Delara said, taking her hand back.

  A flash of panic swept across his face. “It is not too late. Delara, understand I was . . . I . . .”

  She laughed. “What, Waleron? How can you try when you can’t even talk to anyone about what she did to you? What you suffered for years. Try? Try to what . . . love?” She huffed. “You don’t know how to love anymore.”

  “I can . . . learn again.”

  “Did you listen to me at all? My words? I said you ripped out my heart. You don’t know what that feels like. You have no clue and yet you say you want to . . . try. Try to love? Honestly, I don’t think you have it in you. You are numb. You keep yourself numb with those bloody pills. Are you willing to feel again? To stop hiding behind those little white pills?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You were right, you know. You can’t love because you don’t believe in it any longer. She destroyed that in you.” She saw him reach for her and stepped back. “No, Waleron. That part of me is dead.”

  The hurt and pain she glimpsed in his eyes vanished and in its place the familiar cold resolve came like a steel shield over his face. “The Talde needs you.”

  “I will be there for them when it’s required,” Delara said. She swept past him and immediately felt Edan’s presence. Without a word, Edan wrapped his arm around her waist and she walked away.

  ****

  Balen took her hand and they walked up to the massive house that sat on top of a hill a half mile back from the road. It appeared desolate and cold, snow blanketing the bare limbs of trees’ that were sprawled in no pattern across the expansive property.

  Balen was uneasy approaching the house, his instincts at full capacity as he smelled for any emotions that could do Danielle harm. Warriors were lethal and unpredictable at times. Most of the time, they protected one another, but when it came to defying the Wraiths—knowing the repercussions—it could be dangerous. They might be turned away or, worse, killed. But when Keir had called with the directions, he had made it clear that Ryker and his Talde would welcome them.

  The door opened before they reached the stone steps. A man with shoulder-length black hair stood on the threshold. He was tall and lean, with eyes that identified him as an ancient—strong, powerful, and a dangerous adversary if it came to that.

  The guy grinned, flashing perfect white teeth. “Welcome, Balen.” He gave a respectful bow, gallant and with ease. “Mademoiselle.” He stepped forward and took Danielle’s hand and brought it to his lips. “A pleasure,” he said.

  Balen tensed, not liking the way this warrior’s eyes swept over Danielle appreciatively.

  The man chuckled as he dropped her hand. “Come.” He stepped back from the door. Balen hesitated. “Please, I wish not to see you caught by those bastard Wraiths just because of mere jealousy.”

  Danielle poked him in the ribs with her elbow. Balen followed Danielle’s urging and stepped into the Visionary’s domain.

  “I am Ryker. I apologize for the others, they have already taken to sleep.” He glanced at Danielle and pointed to the left. “Through the living room on the right.”

  Her mouth dropped open and then she smiled. “And Balen said reading minds was only for emergencies.”

  “And this is not?” Ryker asked, raising his brows with amusement.

  She laughed. “I guess it is. Excuse me.” Danielle took off for the washroom.

  “Refreshing,” Ryker said. He held up his hand before Balen had the chance to tell him that Danielle was his. “I have my own woman.”

  Balen relaxed. Okay, let it go. “We appreciate the hospitality. Did Keir inform you of the circumstances?”

  “That the Wraiths want your head on their altar?” Ryker asked. “Of course. It matters little to us. We protect Senses first and foremost.” Soft footfalls came down the spiral staircase. A woman with hair the color of the sun glided towards them. She had a delightful smile on her angelic features and azure eyes that sparkled with intelligence and warmth.

  Ryker went to her and put his arm around her waist. “Ah, my other half. Hannah, this is the warrior I told you about. Balen.”

  Balen nodded and was surprised when she approached him and took his hands and then kissed both his cheeks. “Welcome to our home. I am pleased that Keir asked us for assistance. Ryker and I heard what happened two years ago and were saddened to hear of your capture. Where is this courageous woman we heard about?”

  Danielle took that moment to join them. Hannah immediately went to her and pulled her into a warm embrace. Ryker chuckled at the astonishment on Danielle’s face.

  “My wife has been eager to meet you, Danielle. One as audacious as you has earned a respect that surpasses most,” Ryker said.

  Hannah flashed her husband a warm smile. Balen noticed the love that enveloped both of them. It was obvious that they had been together a long time.

  Hannah introduced herself to Danielle and then took her hand. “You must be famished. Kilter loves to cook and makes the best eggs you’ve ever tasted. Although, you will have to excuse his attitude, Kilter is rather . . . well, abrupt in his ways.”

  “Kilter resides here?” Balen asked Ryker using his telepathy. Keir had conveniently left out that small detail.

  “So you’ve heard of him?” Ryker replied. “He is loyal and will not harm your woman if that is what you’re concerned about. Well, not physically anyway. Hannah has taken a real liking to him over the years.”

  Balen grunted but didn’t say anything more. They were being kind enough to assist in hiding them.

  Ryker must have said something in Hannah’s mind because she shot him a look that said, “
Leave us women be.” Balen scented the kindness drift from Hannah’s skin and knew Danielle was in good hands.

  Ryker said, “Come I will show you where you may rest and clean up.” He looked back at Hannah. “Love, you are tired. Do not stay up too long.”

  She waved her hand at him. “I’ll just get Danielle settled. I will be up shortly.”

  Ryker frowned and then sighed. “Women,” he muttered.

  ****

  Danielle was overwhelmed by Hannah’s kindness. She could tell that the slight woman was weary, her face pale and movements slow, but she insisted on chatting and making her feel at home. She led her to the large modern kitchen and gestured for her to sit on one of the six bar stools that surrounded the jade marble island.

  “When Keir told my husband that you were coming, I must admit I was eager to meet you. I mean it’s not often a Senses has the opportunity to meet a human who knows about us. Plus I . . . I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for what happened. I mean, I don’t know everything, but I do know about Ryszard. I understand Balen saved your life.”

  “My memory is still fuzzy. It comes to me in pieces every once in and while.” Danielle sipped the orange juice Hannah had poured.

  “Waleron erased it, no doubt. How is he doing, anyway? Still as cold and expressionless as ever?”

  Danielle smiled. “Yes. I thought he was the devil himself when I first met him. I nearly peed my pants.”

  Hannah laughed, the sound light and infectious. “I’ve never told Ryker this because it would go to his head, but I thanked the spirits that he was by my side the first time I met Waleron. I can face an enemy like any warrior but Waleron . . . he needs to learn to smile.”

  “You’re a warrior? Like Balen?” Danielle asked, surprised that this fragile woman fought against guys like Ryszard.

  Hannah nodded. “Oh yes, that is how I met Ryker. I’m a Sounder.” Danielle wasn’t sure what that entailed and Hannah picked up on her baffled expression. “I can hear sounds for about a two-mile radius. It took time to learn how to phase out other sounds and home in on what I’m searching for. Thankfully, I can block out sounds if need be.

  “I met Ryker about sixty years ago when my home and Talde were attacked. Long story short, Ryker saved my life. Been together ever since. So you’re probably wondering how someone so small and fragile can fight?” She smiled, her thin brows rising. “I may be small, but I’m agile and persistent. It helps that I can hear the click of a gun a couple miles away.” Before Danielle could ask, Hannah continued, “Ryker is a Visionary, Senses of Sight. He and Keir once fought together a century or so ago.”

  “Okay, info overload, this is difficult to take in,” Danielle admitted. “I’m still trying to understand the whole concept of Senses.”

  Hannah nodded with understanding and reached over, putting her hand on Danielle’s. “You’re a brave woman, Danielle.”

  “I prayed for death to take me. That’s not brave, Hannah.”

  “Bravery is defined in many ways,” Hannah said, keeping her voice soft as if a whisper floating through the air. “You survived. You sit here beside me and breathe and smile and look radiant. You feel for Balen, not for saving your life, but for what he is, who he is. That is brave. Walking forward after surviving something so horrific . . . well, you’re a strong woman.”

  She sensed that this woman had shared with her a common survival. What, she had no idea, but the connection was one that would last a lifetime. She understood something that she had for so long thought no one could.

  “You face a difficult road ahead.” Hannah sighed. “The Wraiths are . . . they are fair, but they act sometimes before listening. Be careful. Do not stay too long in one place or nature will tell them where you are.”

  “Will they know you helped us?”

  “Yes.” Hannah smiled. “But Ryker says their fury will be minimal. They will not risk making us their enemies. We are from the same place, after all.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes and then laughed. “Sorry, my husband is insisting I come to bed. We’ve had little rest in the last few days. There have been some indications that a group has been watching us, and we’ve been on high alert.” She shrugged. “Probably humans who think we are witches and want pictures. Can you imagine?” She laughed and her eyes flashed brilliant like the sun. “I’m coming,” Hannah called. “Truth is, Ryker hates to sleep alone.” She rose. “Balen is in the guest room beside the bathroom. I believe he is in the shower. I hear Kilter rising and I’ve informed him that you are here. He will fix you and Balen something to eat.”

  “I’m famished,” Danielle admitted. “Thank you, Hannah.”

  Hannah smiled. She kissed her on both cheeks. “Make yourself at home.” She paused, tilting her head and glancing at the window. “God, I must be really tired. I’m hearing things. I’ll be right back. I just need to check something out.”

  “Do you need some help?” Danielle asked.

  Hannah waved her hand. “No. No. Just relax. Sometimes when I’m overtired, I have trouble blocking out sounds. I’ll just check it out.”

  She glided from the room like an angel, and Danielle felt like a slob compared to the angelic woman. God, her jeans were worn with a rip in the knee, and her shirt had to have a paint splatter somewhere.

  She helped herself to more orange juice and decided she’d get started on making something to eat. Balen had refused to stop more than twice on the way here, and after a twenty-hour drive, she was ready to eat everything and anything.

  She found the frying pan in the drawer beneath the stainless-steel stove and grabbed the carton of eggs out of the refrigerator. She was about to place them on the counter when a loud crash next to her sent the eggs flying in every direction and she stumbled back into the wall. The window above the sink shattered, sending shards of glass in every direction.

  She heard glass breaking throughout the house and then something whizzed past her head. Holy crap, the Wraiths had found them. The something that had flown through the air landed under the stool and began leaking a greenish smoke.

  She started coughing and gagging on the pungent smell and put her hand over her mouth as she ran for the guest room. She stopped dead in her tracks in the hallway as a man appeared wearing a balaclava. She gasped, turning to run in the other direction.

  He was on her in a second, grabbing her arm and yanking her to a stop. She slammed her elbow back into his stomach. The guy grunted and pulled her arm back behind her until she screamed out in pain.

  “Got one,” the man said into a mouthpiece that connected to his ear.

  She struggled against him, her feet kicking out at anything, but he only tightened his grip and pulled her arm up, making her wince in agony. His free hand went to his breast pocket and she anticipated a knife, not the needle that he bit off the cap and pointed towards her neck. She ignored the pain in her arm and fought for what she knew would be her life, but he was too strong.

  The needle came closer.

  This so sucked that men were always stronger. When was she going to get a break?

  She never heard nor saw the man come up behind them. Suddenly, a knife plunged into the side of her captor’s neck, and he made this strange gurgling noise, blood spewing from his mouth before his grip released on her arm. She stumbled forward, falling to her knees.

  Her first thought was she had to get to Balen. Was he dead already? Had the assailants already injected him with whatever the hell was in that syringe?

  Unforgiving hands grabbed her elbow and jerked her to her feet.

  “Let me go!” She grabbed the frame of the door to stop the man from taking her away as she writhed like an eel. He might have saved her from Needle Guy, but he could be just as bad.

  His fingers dug into both her shoulders and he gave her a vicious shake. “Cease your struggle,” the man said in the most pissed-off voice she’d ever heard. He knocked her hand away from the frame, then lifted her and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.r />
  “No,” she screamed. “Goddamn it, put me down.” She pounded her fists into his back, but it had no effect as he ran out the front door and across the ground, his long strides like a deer’s. He leapt over a wooden fence and kept running without the slightest hesitation.

  He ran down the side of a steep hill, his feet sure and steady. When he finally stopped, he threw her off his shoulder and she landed on her butt in the snow. She scuttled to her feet and was about to run back towards the house when his words stopped her.

  “Run and I will kill you.”

  She heard the cold sound of metal clicking.

  Danielle felt the shiver of fear chase away all her courage. Oh my god, this guy had a gun. Who the hell was he? What did he want? If she was away from Balen, then . . .

  “Inside,” he said as he opened a door. She turned around and saw no sign of his gun, only the open mouth of a dark cave. Every instinct told her to run. Panic gripped her insides like a shackle. Darkness. Cold. It was too small. She couldn’t. No, she’d die in there. The reminder of her puzzling memories plowed into her full speed.

  Two steps and he reached her, grabbing her arm and forcing her inside the hell that was going to kill every last sense of sanity she had left. The door rumbled and slid closed behind her, and the scream in her throat was frozen by her inactive vocal cords. His hand pushed her forward and she stumbled, the walls of the cave saving her from landing on her knees.

  “Move,” he said.

  Her limbs refused to function, and he swore under his breath as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder once more. He took them further and further beneath the earth until finally he abruptly stopped and dumped her on the ground, none too carefully. He walked over to the far side of the ten-by-ten area in the cave, where he lit several large white candles that were perched on a ledge.