She placed her hands on her hips and sighed. “Fine. We shall do this your way. For now you are nothing but Zeniel. If the lie helps you stay calm, enjoy it. In the future, do not come to me and tell me I did not warn you. Your ‘Brown Eyes’ is thousands of years from being born. You are going to have to wait. And now . . . I am off to get Fertility, as in denial as he now is about his designation.”
The creature—Nylicia, he remembered her name was Nylicia—disappeared. Thankfully, her faint light remained long after she was gone.
What didn’t remain was the calmness she afforded him.
He almost doubled over as the noise threatened to start in his head again. Lying back on the cold floor, he focused on the dust particles floating in the remaining light. He forced his mind to visualize those brown eyes, and only those eyes. He needed to keep it together. He needed to get through this.
The memory disappeared instantly. One moment she had been trapped in it. The next, her eyes were wide open and she had sprung into a sitting position.
Evesse came eye-to-eye with white irises surrounded by a black rim. She blinked. Lids framed with navy blue eyelashes—unfairly thick, damn it—mimicked her. Recognition flared, and she went flying into the headboard.
It collapsed around her, leaving her blowing dust out of her face as she grabbed the nearest pillow and flung it at Ianthen. “The fuck is wrong with you? You scared me!”
From behind a floating cloud of feathers, Ianthen glared at her. “Was that necessary?”
Eve panted, her thoughts racing.
Ianthen leaned toward her. “Evesse, are you all right?”
From the corner of her eye, she saw the pieces of the pillow reconnecting, the feathers finding their way back inside. Even the ones on the floor floated back home as if magnetized. She rested her head against the reformed headboard, having one of those moments where her raised-human brain wondered how much more weirdness it could process.
You’re immortal now. You apparently have powers. Oh, and you’re having visions about your mate’s past. That’s how much more weirdness.
“Eve? Eve!”
“What the hell, dude?” she cried, destroying another pillow with his face.
“I don’t know whether to take you up on this blatant pillow fight invite you’ve extended me, or not. Then again, Zeniel would kill me. Give me the creepy red eye, and have my dick cut off.” With a mulish expression, Ianthen plucked a small feather off his eyelash and dropped it into the trail of pillows floating past them.
Eve stared at him. “You cut your hair,” was all she could come up with.
Ian raised a hand and ran it through his now short hair. The front was longer, styled in a small fauxhawk, but the rest was nothing more than a navy blue fade.
It gave him a rougher look. A dangerous one. As big as he was, and as animalistic as his presence could be, that haircut made him look like a hot brawler ready to beat down. And remembering what Soleria had said in the main hall about the ex-Viking Sesengt, Eve knew why he’d done it.
Sol . . . I pity you.
“Yeah,” Ian said, lowering his hand with a rueful smirk. “Do you think she’ll like it?”
He caught what he said too late, a scowl settling on his face. There was no need to ask who the “she” in question was.
“Ianthen, of course she’s gonna love it. Hell, if she doesn’t ride your face the moment she sees you, I will personally consider her insane. And will tell her so, too.”
Ian gave her a huge smile, his frustration mollified.
Good deed for the day done.
“Why are you here?”
“Because there was no one else to watch over you.”
Oh, great. Now she needed round the clock nannies? “And where is everyone?”
“Dyletri is with Ismini in their room. She’s fluctuating, bad—real bad.”
Reminded of what had just happened to her friend, Eve sat up, panic racing through her. “How is she? How bad is it? How long have I been out?”
Ianthen held up a hand. “Easy there. You were out for two days. Health wise Ismini’s all right. It’s her powers that are all over the place. Her room and anyone that comes near it . . . well, that’s the bad part. Everything keeps either changing color or into a different material altogether. Dyletri seems to be helping her control it some, though, so Vedlyl and Nylicia have advised that everyone else stay clear.”
“And Soleria? Where is she?”
Ianthen’s jaw twitched. He looked like he’d swallowed a bitter tasting rock and was in the process of forcing it down his throat. “She’s fine. She’s . . . consoling . . . Cyake.”
Oh.
Fuck.
“‘Consoling’ Cyake? And what exactly is wrong with him?” She wondered if it had to do with him being out of whack, and the old lady he claimed was haunting him.
Ian shrugged, turning his head. “I have no idea. I didn’t even know something was wrong with him.”
The statement had an echo the size of an atomic blast behind it. Two sentences, a million things left unsaid, and enough resentment behind them for Eve to clue in to what was happening.
Ian and Cy were best friends from what she knew. Cyake hadn’t told his best bud about what was happening to him, yet. And . . . Soleria had taken it upon herself to console Ianthen’s bro. Knowing Sol, the consolation probably entailed something slightly inappropriate.
Jesus Christ, Sol, what are you doing?
A blind person could see that Ianthen was into her, really into her, and Soleria knew how close he and Cyake were.
Later. Evesse would find out what the hell Sol did later. First, she had to find Zen. The urge to see him was a hot needle-point, poking repeatedly at her mind, body, and soul. It wasn’t that she forgot how angry she was at him—or her promise to stay away from him—she couldn’t stay away from him right then. It just wasn’t possible.
Lord, how he’d suffered, the things that had been done to him. She’d only seen but a glimpse, knew only but the bare facts. She knew this. It’d been worse. Probably much, much worse than she imagined.
And she loved the fucker. No matter what, it wouldn’t change. She loved him more than should be possible. Her mating augmented the fact. It was also demanding that she lay eyes on him, check up on him.
Once she knew he was all right, she’d beat his ass for being such a fool, then she could return to confront her friend and see just what game Soleria was playing.
At least, that was the plan.
“Where’s Nylicia?” Eve swung her legs over the edge of the bed. If anyone could help her find Zeniel, it was Nylicia.
“Whoa. Where do you think you’re going? I need to get Ved in here to check you out now that you’re awake.”
Yeah, okay. Check her out. She didn’t need the doc coming in there and telling her what she already knew.
Evesse . . . you are fucked.
“Evesse! Something’s clearly happening to you, too. Let me get Ved, Nylicia was with him, last I saw anyway.”
Nylicia appeared in the room the moment Ianthen finished speaking, followed by Cyake rather than Vedlyl. Cy threw an apologetic look at Ianthen, one that Ianthen scowled at before turning away, arms crossed.
Evesse didn’t waste any time confronting Nylicia. “What did you do to me?”
“Made you freaking awesome, what else? Say thank you.”
“No. I’m serious, woman.”
She just stared up at Eve, eyebrows raised.
Eve narrowed her eyes at Nylicia. Fine . . . she’d try another tactic. “You showed a vision of me to Zeniel when he first woke up, didn’t you? At least answer me that question.”
Nylicia’s expression was perfectly schooled as she sat daintily on the edge of Eve’s bed, legs crossed. How she did that, considering she was some sort of freaky projection, Evesse didn’t know.
“Having visions, I see. The connection with your R’mann’s past is such a nuisance, isn’t it? But I’m glad you’re seeing them.�
�
Eve’s chest clenched tight at the memories Nylicia’s words evoked. “They’re killing me, Nylicia. How could any of you allow that to happen to him?”
“It was my fault,” Cyake said, just as Nylicia replied, “It had to happen.”
They scowled at each other.
“It had to happen because I opened my big mouth.”
“Well, your mouth is big, there’s no denying that. But”—Nylicia studied her nails—“you are the God of Divination-slash-Voice of Prophecy. AKA, the instrument of the higher Fates. You’d be more, but you’re a pussy. ”
“You mean I’m their bitch. Every time I’ve given in and spoken for them, someone gets fucked up the ass. Sometimes figuratively. Sometimes not.”
Nylicia lowered her hand and stared blankly in front of her. “You’ve done it five times in your entire existence, you old motherfucker. Five.”
Cyake crossed his arms stubbornly. “And none of them has worked out well so far.”
Eve blinked, staring between the two of them.
Ianthen raised an eyebrow at Cy. “Yeah. You’re totally the biggest asshole in all of history.”
Cyake glared at him.
“This time will work out,” Nylicia said, looking up at Eve from under her brows. “Besides, I’m just trying to make it easier on all of you. If you don’t want to believe me? Fine.”
Eve turned and stormed toward the second thing she’d ever materialized—her weapons closet.
She was done with them. All of them. They could all kiss her immortal ass. She couldn’t hurt Nylicia, but at that moment she wanted to. She was epically frustrated. Death, immortality, powers, prophecies, mating; mates keeping bullshit secrets. She’d had enough.
There was a shooting range on the compound and she planned to make good use of it.
In the far corner of the rectangular room, the marble wall morphed and then slid open, revealing the space Evesse had added shortly after her self-imposed week of isolation. Inside it, she had materialized a copy of every weapon she’d been able to think of. Guns lined the walls, gleaming and polished. A grenade launcher sat in a glass display case along with several different sized knives.
Dimithinia popped into the room, gold Skullcandy headphones covering her ears. Her fingers flew across the surface of a Samsung Galaxy Note 3 as she turned off whatever she had been listening to. The phone was bigger than her hands were.
She grabbed her headphones, sliding them off her head. “Nylicia, you wished to see me?”
Eve scowled, taking in the long black trench coat Dimi was sporting. That was definitely new.
“Yeah. I have a mission for both you and Eve. Real important.”
Eve’s face twitched at Nylicia’s words. Turning slightly, she pointed at Nylicia’s mien.
“I’m not doing shit for you or going anywhere until you come clean. You mentioned powers before you knocked me out. What did you do to me?”
Chapter 20
“I made you more powerful. It’s that simple,” Nylicia replied with a shrug.
Eve lowered her finger. She almost believed Nylicia. Almost. Had she been anyone else, Eve would’ve swallowed that load of crap without thinking twice. But nothing was ever simple when Nylicia was involved.
“This is important, Eve. We need the information I’m about to send you to get. Besides, you want to find Zen. I swear to you . . . no, I vow to you that this is how you will find him.”
The mere mention of Zen grabbed onto Eve’s mated mind, funneling her purpose into one point alone. Damn the freaking R’mannev. It wasn’t giving her any choice other than to go after her mate.
“Fine.” She turned and stormed back into her weapon’s closet. “He better fucking be where you’re sending me. And this isn’t over!”
“Of course it’s not.”
Dimithinia appeared behind Eve, followed closely by Nylicia. “Nice collection. Definitely needs some improvement, though.”
Evesse paused before her knife display and turned to face Nylicia. She knew what that meant. She was getting good at reading that little demon pixie.
“Give us what you’ve got, then.”
A light flashed behind her, and a blast of cold rippled through the air. Eve turned and saw what resembled two, large alien guns amidst her own weapons.
“Are those upgraded terets?” Cyake asked, walking closer. “Sexy. They look like the US military’s PHASR prototypes. Nice, Nylicia. Real nice.”
He and Ianthen stared at the weapons as if they were hot women. They were practically salivating.
Not that Eve blamed them.
“Yes,” Nylicia said. “The old ones were only capable of shooting one beam at a time. Still useful, I know, but considering that design was stolen and replicated . . .”
Stolen and replicated? Evesse’s stomach bottomed out, but before she could ask Nylicia what she meant, she looked at Eve.
“See that circle on the left side? That’s a sensor. Place your thumb on it.”
“Wait. What do you mean stolen and replicated?”
“I’ll explain another time. For now, please do as I say. You have to leave as soon as possible if you want to make it in time.”
In time for fucking what? Eve bit her lip, praying for patience and forcing her questions down by sheer force of will. She moved forward and placed her thumb on the circular, glass-like area Nylicia had indicated. As soon as she did, the gun came to life, white light blazing beneath her finger. The light began moving, scanning her thumb, then morphed from white to red, black, and yellow. Colors she knew very well.
“What just happened?” she asked when the lights died.
Nylicia shook her head. “Thumb back on the sensor, if you will. We aren’t done yet.”
Eve glared at her but did as she was told. Immediately, the colors of her aura pulsed through the gun. There seemed to be a pattern within the pulses, almost as if the teret was poised for something.
“It’s waiting on your command,” Nylicia said, answering Eve’s unspoken question. Her eyes were soft and proud as she stared at her creation. “Now, tell it to rise to level four.”
Evesse had no idea what that meant. She felt her eyebrows rise in surprise. “Tell it?”
“Think it. Same thing. Now do it.”
With a shrug, Eve turned back and focused on the gun. There were nine circles running up the barrel. The moment the thought began forming in her head, light flared within four of them. She took her thumb off the sensor and stepped back.
“It can read my mind? This gun can read my freaking mind.”
A blur raced past Eve. “I want one.”
Dimithinia launched herself at the second teret, gleefully lifting it and placing her thumb on the sensor. Black, dark purple, and silver danced through the chambers. She almost looked ridiculous, barely five foot four with that three-foot weapon in her arms.
“I want one, too.”
No surprise, that’d been Cy.
“You don’t get one,” Nylicia said, turning to him. “Not yet.”
“What? Why?”
“I have something I need you and Ianthen to take care of. Evesse and Dimithinia, I’ll meet you at St. John’s Hospital in New York. Queens, in case you forgot.”
“Wait, do you mean the abandoned hospital on Queens Boulevard?” Out of the corner of her eye, Evesse saw the two terets disappear.
“One and the same. Rooftop. Give me fifteen minutes.” Nylicia stopped before leaving, glancing at Dimithinia.
The ex-queen was glaring down at her hands with a priceless expression; she obviously wanted her new toy back.
“You’ll get it back when you need it. Trust me. Cyake, Ianthen, meet me in the surveillance room.” With that, Nylicia disappeared, leaving the four of them staring at each other.
“Be careful, you two,” Cyake said, his face tense. “Keep your phones on and close to you. I’ll meet up with you guys as soon as I can.”
Eve nodded. “Will do. Thanks.”
“I’m going to be watching over Soleria when I’m done. But I’ll have my phone. Call me if you need me,” Ianthen said.
Eve thanked him as well before he and Cyake disappeared.
Dimithinia slid her phone out of her pocket. “Well, let us be on our way. Abandoned hospice it is.”
“Hospital, Dimithinia. The appropriate word is hospital.”
Cars zoomed by on the boulevard below, their lights a blur. Eve rested her foot on the ledge in front of her and looked down at the street. She squinted, out of habit, even though her vision could zoom in and out like a camera lens. The blurs became focused, detailed. Every detail registered almost instantaneously. With one look she already had a mental picture of every car, every face in front of the mall on the other side of the street. She could even tell what brand of handbag the woman on the corner had.
I’m never going to get used to this.
Eve tilted her head, seeing a spark of deep red come to life around one of the people below.
No, not one. There were two. And three. Then four.
She couldn’t blink. Her gaze darted from person to person. Not everyone had the blood red mist curled around them, but a lot of them did.
Men, women. Old, young . . . even a few children.
Her senses fired, signals she didn’t understand shooting painfully into her mind. She almost reeled back and landed on her ass. She blinked, desperate to erase the images coming to life inside the mist around the people below.
The truth slid through her mind, a mere murmur that stole the breath from her.
Sins.
She was seeing the sins of the humans. Evesse cupped her mouth with her hand, feeling sick. Out of the few hundred people she could see on that side of the boulevard, at least six had committed heinous crimes.
Guilty . . .
Eve closed her eyes, squeezing her lids shut tightly. The images wouldn’t go away. A tall, broad man with glasses who had crossed the street to the White Castle had murdered someone. Inside his mist, what looked like a ghost remained, clawing at him, her eyes panicked, her mouth open on a silent scream.
Blood Stained Tranquility Page 18
