The Fire in Vengeance

by Sue Wilder

  Phillipe bent to gather the shards while Christan rose to his feet, activating the camera on his phone.

  “We’ll document every image in this cave, and then we need to leave.”

  “Yes,” Lexi agreed, reaching out for her usual resiliency and finding emptiness instead. She swayed on her feet as if the earth had shifted.

  Christan took her hand and led her into the blinding sunlight.

  ✽✽✽

  The garbage had been taken out and the cave obscured behind the fallen rocks. Remnants of the shrubs were pressed into the sandy ground, ready to regenerate when the rains came, and Christan knew that within a year the cave would be hidden again.

  Darius had shifted into a strange bird of prey and flew ahead, making certain there were no stragglers on the trail, but they’d killed the mercenaries and had been eliminating the warriors outside the cave when Lexi collapsed the opening. Christan’s heart had stopped in that instant and remained stopped until he she was in his arms.

  His final walk around the clearing revealed no remaining threats, and their assault had been without mercy for that reason. Phillipe was waiting at the crest of the hill, while the girls were holding hands, perhaps bonding over their experiences. Christan realized they weren’t when he saw the distance in Katerina’s eyes.

  “How is Lexi?” Phillipe asked when Christan reached his side. Both men had turned to study the two women.

  “She worked hard to keep Kace out of her mind. I don’t think he got deep enough to do much damage.”

  “It won’t show up while she’s still in an adrenalin high.”

  “I’ll be watching, Phillipe, but I don’t think he touched her.” Just terrified her, cut her, dug into her vulnerabilities.

  “The bond is more obvious,” the immortal said after a long moment. The girls were hugging while Arsen stood to the side. “Have you accepted it?”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  “No, and you deserve the truth. Two wanted vengeance and used both of you to achieve it.”

  “I realized it,” Christan admitted, “when Lexi sang the lamentation for Luca.”

  “It was the song Two always sang.”

  “To mark the fallen.”

  “You realize what else it represents?”

  “The call to war.”

  “Not just war, Christan.”

  “I know,” the enforcer said as he watched Lexi walk toward him. “Hell, singing.”

  ✽✽✽

  The ruins of Cyrene were a silent witness. Christan held Lexi’s hand as they walked, curled his fingers tighter when she shuddered. They were near the place where Gaia’s father died; Christan thought the residual energy from the man reached out to brush light fingers and say goodbye for a second time. She stared sightlessly as they passed the Temple of Demeter. The entire area held memories for her, he thought. Memories for him, too.

  They had come by boat, as she had, but several miles up the coast from where Kace had directed his Zodiac ashore. It was a long, hot walk, almost too long. Lexi was exhausted by the time they saw Darius, leaning against the hood of the vehicle they’d left parked beneath the trees. Fortunately, it was still there, thanks to the boy of about fourteen who caught the new burner phone Christan tossed as they walked by. It was worth more in this fractured land than currency, euros, even US dollars, although there weren’t enough working cell towers to make the phone useful. There were other needs for cell phones, of course, and Christan thought it a small price to pay for the security of their transportation.

  “When were you here last?” Lexi asked as they walked across the ochre-colored road and toward the trees.

  “Before I went into the Void.”

  “Has it changed much since then?”

  “It’s gotten older, cara. More worn out.”

  “I sometimes feel like this place.”

  “Worn out?”

  “Lost,” she said, sliding into the rear seat of the heavy vehicle.

  “It will get better,” he told her as he slid in beside her.

  “I couldn’t keep him out of my mind.”

  “I know.”

  “Were you there?”

  “For a time.”

  Lexi nodded. “I felt you. Heard you.”

  “I wish I’d been there sooner.”

  Lexi rolled down the window, tilted her head to the blue, blue sky, needing the wind on her skin. “I’m changing, Christan. I can feel it.”

  “Does it frighten you?”

  “It’s confusing.” She paused. “There was one moment… I was so angry at Kace for what he was doing, at Jago, trying to hurt Katerina. Then a power seemed to fill me, like an avenging angel who demanded justice. I even imagined large wings spreading out behind my shoulders. Wasn’t that odd?”

  “No, not odd.” Christan’s throat seized. “If you ever feel that again, cara, promise me you won’t try to shift. Call to me wherever you are.”

  “Is it because of what you told me, the conduit between us?”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  ✽✽✽

  Christan didn’t know how long he stared at her. Lexi was curled like a child in the fast motor boat that was taking them to the waiting yacht, and he allowed the small indulgence, reached out and traced the fragile arch of her eyebrow, down the straight line of her nose, across the lips that touched him as no other woman could. He watched in silence while she slipped away, realizing shock was setting in, and he knew she’d been running on emotion for days, even before Luca’s death. As she stared out to sea, he thought she was losing herself in the deep labyrinth of memory.

  “Cara,” he said quietly.

  “What is it, Christan?”

  “We’re almost there.”

  “The yacht?”

  “Yes. Can you climb on board by yourself? Just a step across and you’ll be safe.”

  “Will there be water?”

  He brushed at her hair. “Why do you need water?”

  “There are bugs in my hair. I’m sure of it.”

  He pressed his fingers gently against her scalp and sent out a little pulse of energy. “No bugs,” he assured her.

  She shook her head. “There are,” she said with such conviction he didn’t contradict her.

  When they reached the yacht, he lifted her in his arms and vaulted across the space to the aft-deck, striding up a short flight of steps into one of the living areas. Thick rugs covered the teak floor and panoramic windows allowed for an expansive view. Christan walked up the central staircase to the master suite and didn’t stop until she was standing in the marble bathroom.

  “Water,” he said with a sweep of his hand.

  Lexi smiled weakly and began to strip off her clothes. As she held them out his fingers twisted deep into the material. He had no words, could only imagine what she’d endured since Luca’s death, most of it at his request. There were dark bruises on her skin, visible when she reached for the taps. The marks were red around her wrists, blue across her ribs and over her slender hips. He had done that. He had asked that of her. There was nothing hesitant about the guilt he placed upon himself. His reassurances were frail and desperate compared to her strength.

  “Can you forgive me?” he whispered.

  “Can you forgive me?” she replied. They stood there, the distance between them beyond physical. The words of intimacy, the things he wanted to say that wouldn’t come when he tried to summon them. In the end, she turned and stepped beneath the steaming spray.

  He stood silent and unmoving, with the clothes clutched in his hands until he recognized the sobbing. She was bent over at the waist as she scrubbed at her hair. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough as she began to keen with the depth of her grief. And he knew, then, that it wasn’t the bugs she imagined but losing those she loved. Luca, for whom she’d sung the lamentation, and the near loss of Kat. The torture and violation from Kace. The unending violence of this world. Her world, which would never be the
same.

  He dropped the rags and stepped beneath the spray, turning her in his arms, bringing her upright so she pressed against his heart.

  “Don’t,” he whispered against her wet hair, dragging his lips down to press against her temple. “You are everything that is good and pure. I have never deserved you.”

  She pulled away, looked at his face, but he knew she didn’t see him. “You once told me you were never allowed in heaven, but you were wrong, Christan. You live where the angels live, and I can’t follow you there.”

  His grip tightened on her shoulders as if he could hold her close. “I am here. Where you are, I am here.”

  But he couldn’t hold on tight enough when she said, “I’m falling.”

  “I will always catch you, cara.”

  “It’s too late. I’ve already hit the ground.”

  He lost the ability to speak. Desperately he pushed his fingers through her hair, removing the last of the shampoo. He stroked down her spine, smoothed against her hips. He thought of the many lifetimes when he’d held her like this, never understanding the depth of who she was, who she would become once she entered his world.

  Christan turned off the shower, wrapped her in towels and carried her to the bed. He dried her skin and covered her with a soft blanket. By the time he changed from his wet clothes into worn jeans and a white knit sweater, she was asleep.

  It was the deep emotional exhaustion that he knew so well.

  CHAPTER 24

  Lexi was still sleeping when the enforcer left the chair where he’d spent the night. He joined Arsen on the aft-deck, hidden in shadow beneath the deep overhang from the upper deck while beyond, pale pink tinged the sky above water as smooth as gunmetal. Arsen lounged at the dining table. Warm croissants sat beside various bowls of fresh fruit. Silent crew members were dressed in white and seeing to every need. While it wasn’t the informality Christan preferred, he realized One needed to repair her diplomatic lapse, and he appreciated the secure transportation she was providing.

  During the night, the Captain had knocked quietly on the stateroom door. Darius and Phillipe had then departed on the small launch that took them to an obscure island, were a private helicopter waited with rotors slowly turning. From there they’d have gone to One’s villa, then back to the Pacific Northwest. The immortal planned to go on to Seattle while the general returned to his distillery in Portland and resumed his normal routine.

  Arsen would remain in Florence, and not only to keep an eye on Katerina. Three needed his expertise and so did Christan. Katerina, though, had been adamant about Arsen’s offer of protection, the argument lasting for hours. The abduction, she claimed, had happened because of a mistake she did not intend to repeat. Hiding was a technique she knew well, and if they insisted on babysitters, she would slip the tether altogether and they’d never find her.

  It was only when Katerina agreed to stay in touch with Dante and Renata that Arsen relented—not that Kat believed he had any say in the matter. The current plan included another stop that afternoon, near the Sicilian seaside town of Pozzallo, where Arsen and Kat would depart for the return trip to Florence while Lexi and Christan continued to their own destination. It was a secluded island called Marettimo, a tiny dot off the western coast of Sicily, overlooked by tourists and under One’s protection.

  There, in the hill town where white-washed houses spilled down to the rocky beach, Christan would find a protected refuge. A place of dark blue shutters and old stone steps, bright umbrellas and large terra cotta urns filled with red flowers. Of cool rooms and shaded windows where Lexi could stare out at the endless sea.

  He would do that for her. And she would be safe.

  “You’ve uploaded all the photos from your phone?” Arsen asked as Christan sat down.

  “It took two tries, but Ethan’s running some software program now, to see if there’s a match to the rock art.”

  “I could have helped.”

  “You were enjoying yourself too much,” Christan said. “I couldn’t bring myself to interrupt.”

  Arsen made a rude sound, popping a grape into his mouth, causing Christan to smirk at his second’s expression.

  “You want a relationship with the girl, or a fight?”

  “Fight,” Arsen said. “It’s easier.”

  “Coward.”

  Arsen flashed that killer smile. “I’m not proud.”

  Christan sipped his coffee, then asked were Katerina was that morning. Hiding, was Arsen’s reply, saying his estranged mate couldn’t stand to be around him, and all humor had gone out of his expression.

  “I hope she appreciates the danger,” Christan said quietly. “Lexi can’t take another loss.”

  Arsen nodded, staring at the gunmetal sea. “How is she this morning?”

  “Still sleeping. Luca’s death hit hard.”

  “Slick denies it, but her heart is bigger than the world and she lets people get close. With all the changes… it will take time.”

  “The bond is strengthening.”

  “What did she say?”

  Christan breathed in deeply. “In the cave, when they were attacked, she saw herself as an avenging angel, even imagined wings emerging from her back.” Arsen was silent. Christan stared at the frothing wake behind the yacht.

  “The next time she imagines it,” Arsen said into the silence, “it might be a reality.”

  Christan didn’t answer.

  “Was it only the wings, or did she see herself as a large bird?”

  “She was specific about the image. Said she was driven by intense anger, described it as an avenging angel demanding justice. I’ve never heard of a half-shift. It’s a complete shift or nothing.”

  “There were the old stories about an entity called Justice. Phillipe could tell you more.”

  “Myths to scare immortals who don’t behave,” Christan said. “Children, if immortals had any.”

  Arsen stared at the turbulent wake. Sea birds screamed and dove, looking for food.

  “Would Two go that far?” Christan asked after a moment.

  “The woman was unstable. And she wanted vengeance.”

  “Shit,” the enforcer said softly.

  “It might not be that bad,” his second countered.

  “Maybe Phillipe should explain.”

  “Coward.”

  “She won’t take it well.”

  “I hear procrastination makes it worse.”

  “She really won’t take this well.”

  “Slick already knows you’re an arrogant ass. You won’t be telling her anything new.”

  Christan said something remarkably rude in Italian as he reached for his coffee. “How soon until you depart?”

  “Another hour, according to the Captain. Then a flight that will be too long, considering that she-devil will be within striking distance and I’m not allowed weapons on the plane.”

  “You need a good fight, one that ends with her flat on her back and your mouth engaged.”

  “She wishes,” the blond warrior said as he rose to his feet and stretched. “But only in her dreams.”

  Christan hadn’t realized how remote he’d grown until the casual banter pulled him back. A sense of normal was what he needed. And Arsen too, if he understood his old friend the way he thought he did. Arsen regretted much in his long life, although he hid it well behind the laid-back facade. Any other warrior would have walked away from a mate who ran in every lifetime. Arsen said there were reasons, and it was a testament to loyalty that he allowed Katerina her freedom while keeping a protective watch from a distance. Christan knew Arsen followed the girl’s movements more than he let on and would continue to follow her. Continue to wait. It had to do with the first life they shared. Something that haunted the girl and was destroying Arsen’s heart.

  Christan hoped it didn’t destroy Arsen’s life, as well.

  Lexi joined them on the upper deck an hour later. Her blond hair was a riot around her face and she wore dark linen pants
with a yellow blouse tucked into the waistband, gifts from One, presumably, and more formal than her usual style. When Lexi spoke to Kat, the girl held her hand but stared out to sea. Christan wondered what they were saying, knowing that once Arsen and Katerina boarded the small launch there would be no one left to run interference. He remembered that night at One’s villa when he had been angry and frightened and desperate to keep Lexi safe. He forced her into the darkest places in his mind and knew his action was cruel. But Christan had been in unfamiliar territory. He still felt that way.

  Time passed, and when Lexi could no longer justify staring at the departing launch, she turned her gaze toward the sky. Her scent had changed; she always smelled of crushed clover beneath a summer sun, fresh and new, an elusive femininity Christan recognized even in the Void. Now it was layered with mysterious intricacies that slid beneath his skin. Her energy was different, too, and when her emotions were engaged her eyes glittered like transparent gold. The breeze brought color to her skin and Christan felt the need to touch her, but instead, he, too, stared out at the sea.

  It was, he supposed, what Three meant when she said changes would be subtle at first, then gain momentum. Intense experiences increased the pace of the synaptic connections, and the past five days had shattered Christan’s denial. He’d tried other explanations but nothing made sense and he was back in that shadowed bedroom with his hand on her breast, asking, “Will you hunt with me?” Hearing her answer, yes, because he had asked.

  The yacht’s engines rumbled to life, and when Christan turned from leaning against the railing, Lexi had already disappeared through the open glass door. He followed, hands thrust deep into the pockets of his jeans. She stood tense, with a wariness he put there and she seemed determined to maintain despite the emotions of yesterday, when he found her, and she had forgotten, for a moment, that he had tried to send her away.

  “So, what now?” she asked.

  “We go to Marettimo.”

  “Where—or what is that?”