Golden's Rule

by Billi Jean

  Ready or not, she thought and tried to get her courage up for the test.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  This was the first time Torque had witnessed Beauty hesitate. She’d been as brave as hell in the meeting. Hell, immortals were a tough bunch, not giving an inch but taking miles if you let them. She’d done well.

  Now, she glanced at him, her green eyes darkening to grey against her too-pale face. She’d worn her hair down, the straight blonde tresses tempting him to run his hands through and tug. Dressed in another too small T-shirt and dark blue jeans, she looked like some teenager. With more sex appeal in her little finger than most women dreamed of possessing.

  “That was intense.” She didn’t have to say what. He knew. The meeting.

  He’d seen worse. More often than not, the different factions ended up in a shouting match.

  “Yeah, you did well.” She had. He had to wonder if she hadn’t exerted some calming influence on the group. Alex could be a hard man to deal with in the best of times. With two vampires in the room? He’d expected much more from the guy than his dark looks and his snide parting jab.

  Beauty calmed him, why not the cold-hearted wolf?

  She wrapped her arms around him, warm, soft, and not one ounce of her thought him cold. Swallowing, he pushed his pussy thoughts aside and stopped stalling.

  He couldn’t read much through their bond, but he didn’t have to. One of the gazillions of things he loved about his woman was her complete lack of artifice. She showed what she felt. And she was afraid, clearly aware of the dangers a Dark Lord poised.

  “He can’t touch you. Not with a spell or his words. Just sense him. Tell me if you can discover how many other cells there are. Where. If it gets too hard”—he made sure she was listening before he continued—“drop it. End the connection—screw that—don’t even make a connection, Beauty, just simply sense what he is hiding.”

  That did not sound good. Calm. He needed to calm down. Her delicate brow furrowed and she rubbed her bare arms. She was cold. No doubt from the cute little pink T-shirt that hugged her breasts way too tight. Those breasts were his, not up for display with glittering letters across them spelling out the words, ‘Spoilt Princess’.

  “Torque, your possessive grumbling is so not helping.”

  Right. He needed to torque it down a bit. Grinning, he tugged her in close, hugging her tight. “Just be aware he is a Lord. That means one disgusting bastard.”

  “Okay.” She sounded muffled. He pulled back a bit. He was so erasing that word from her vocabulary.

  “Really? I kinda like it. Since you’re smothering me with all your silly fears and you’re bigger than big body.”

  “Hell, I don’t want you in there.”

  “I’ll be fine. Okay. Ready?”

  Calm. “Yeah, ready. Now, I got your back. I’m in charge of the scene, so if I say cut it, you?”

  “Cut it.”

  He nodded. She was scared, but tightening her controls, she felt prepared for the shit she was going to see.

  “I can do this. I’ve already seen most of it.”

  He swallowed his grumble and took her small hand in his, instantly feeling better.

  “Calm down.”

  “I’m trying. No more talking.”

  “Okay.”

  He shot her a look for the smart-assed comment. She wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were pinned on the dark-haired, bleeding Lord.

  Yeah, the guys had been a bit upset when he’d not talked. Bruises ran over his face like a road map. Dark straight hair hung in his eyes, coming to his chin and with his head hanging down, hiding most of his features. He wore a pale straight jacket with blood splattered on the chest and shoulders. Soft grey sweatpants covered his legs and someone had put black socks on him.

  He looked like hell. The padded walls had food, blood and by the smell, something a great deal worse, spattered on them.

  Beauty’s face hardened, her green eyes shone lighter for a second before her delicate nose scrunched up. “Disgusting. And he’s like this because?”

  “He’s a piece of—”

  “That’s so not helpful. Fine, let’s hurry.”

  The guy hadn’t moved, but when she stepped closer, his head jerked up, revealing dull, pale-coloured eyes, centred on Beauty in a way he didn’t like. Not at all. Beauty paused, tilting her head to the side, and slowly raised her hand to her temple.

  The warning bells practically had him grabbing her and hauling them from the room. She must have sensed it because she hissed at him to be still.

  Not moving closer, she seemed to struggle with the guy, her attention focused on him until with another jerk he slipped sideways and landed on his side. His head hit the floor with a thud. Mouth open, he looked like he’d passed out.

  “He’s unconscious. I didn’t want to deal with him.”

  “And you did this, how?”

  “Now is not the time, Torque.”

  “Well, fuck, now is the perfect—”

  “Torque, shhh.” Holding two fingers to her temple, she frowned softly. He watched, feeling her travelling down something that looked a hell of a lot like a link with the Dark Lord.

  A cold shiver worked its way down his spine. Slowly images of faces, all blurs, flooded him, places he knew, others he didn’t, all flew by only pausing like a snapshot a few times. Each time he sensed Beauty doing something and more was revealed, details he caught, streets he’d walked on, places he’d visited mingled with places he’d never seen. She was using him, his memory to try and piece together the places the mage revealed.

  He could have hugged her. Right when he started to settle his worry, something happened. Something that jerked down their bond, snapping his attention to full focus. Beauty gasped, shivering along the bond. Something close to pain flooded her and for some reason it centred on a small child’s upturned face. Blue eyes, eerie and pale, peered up from a small, pale face framed by dark, midnight hair for an instant, then with a cry Beauty fell to the ground.

  If he’d been sucker-punched in the head, he’d not have been so damn caught off guard. Seconds later he held her close, standing up. He didn’t even remember leaving the room until Jaxon’s worried face came into view.

  “What happened, Torque?”

  What happened? Beauty was silent. Still in his arms. So still he could barely get a pulse.

  “Did the bastard touch her?” Jaxon demanded.

  His head practically spun but he met Jaxon’s concerned eyes. “No. Get me…” Who the hell could help with this? ‘This’ being Beauty passed out, not waking. “Beauty, wake up. Now.” He sent the same message through the bond with no results. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Calm? Where was his calm?

  “Who? Who should I get, Torque?”

  He tightened his grip on her before he could loosen enough to reach up and brush her hair off her face. He couldn’t sense anything from her. Behind him, he heard Jaxon cursing and met his eyes again.

  “She’s…she’s bleeding. Back.” Jaxon pointed and his eyes turned red with rage. “Sorcha. I’ll get Sorcha.”

  A chill settled over him. Something had triggered her memory. Something she’d seen.

  “Yes. Get me Sorcha. Now.”

  “On it, bro. Don’t panic. Get her home.”

  He lifted Beauty in his arms and gently turned her so her head rested on his shoulder. Struggling with his phone, he found it and shook his head at Jaxon when the vampire tried to take it.

  “I’ll call Sorcha, get something for her back, Jaxon.”

  “Right.” Jaxon tore down the hall, practically knocking someone over before he disappeared from view.

  He prayed while he dialled one of the most powerful witches on the planet. Anything, anything she wanted, he’d give it.

  “Torque. What’s wrong?”

  He nearly couldn’t answer Sorcha, but finally managed to say, “I need you. I need your healing gift.”

  A pause, then, “Right, that seems to be in demand. Where?�
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  “My home. I’ll set the wards for you.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as possible.” Her low, soft voice filled him with more reassurance than he wanted to admit. Sorcha was always giving, so much so he’d given her nothing but grief over it, but she’d always given him a look like someday he’d get a clue. He had a clue.

  He needed Beauty awake. Awake and not hurting. Blood wet his arm, he cussed so long and loudly. Jaxon stalled with a towel when they met up in the hall.

  “I’m out of here. Tell the crew we have answers, but not today. Not today.”

  “Anything you want, man. Anything.”

  Nodding, he gently settled Beauty more firmly against his chest and hit the portal.

  He wanted her. Awake and unharmed.

  * * * *

  “She’s fine, Torque. Hurt, yes, I know. But not to any degree that will damage her.” Sorcha repeated.

  Jaxon sighed heavily and slumped into the chair by the bed.

  Torque blew out a breath. “Why did this happen? Did you sense the spell?”

  “I have no idea why, but yes, I sensed the binding. It won’t be easy to break, and that’s if you even can. Until then…” Breaking off, Sorcha turned to look at Beauty again.

  “Until then?”

  He saw her frown and twist her lips in a grimace. Not good. Not good.

  “Shhh, it’s just she…”

  “Sorcha, the heavy pauses are pissing me off,” he said.

  One delicate eyebrow quirked up and she blew out a frustrated-sounding breath. Hands on hips she gave him a once-over before saying, “She’s a Jade Witch. Did you know this?”

  Jaxon shifted behind Sorcha but didn’t speak.

  Torque shrugged. Holy shit. So she was a Jade witch? Eyes on his woman, sleeping peacefully now her wounds all healed, he shook his head. “I thought maybe, but wasn’t sure. Then we got so busy with the raid and…things.”

  “Well, she is. Well, sorta.”

  He caught a worried look before she shook her head again. “It’s like this. Some of our coven work as independents, not more than casual members, but they still have the flavour of our alliances. She isn’t familiar to me, but she’s one of ours. Weak, mixed blood a bit, but still there.”

  Weak? He must have scowled because Sorcha laughed. “Not weak as in weak, your mate is very strong, extremely strong or she’d have died long ago.”

  He didn’t like the word ‘dead’ in a sentence with Beauty and shot the witch a warning look for it. “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, let’s see. Her memory is being tied up by some nastiness, there’s a safety net surrounding and protecting her, and her empathy gift is the strongest healing gift I’ve ever seen. Add to that she’s obviously been tortured and that torture is somehow tied into the binding on her memories, and yet, here she is. Strong, healthy, and from what I’ve heard”—tapping her pursed lips, she narrowed her eyes at him—“kind and gentle. So, either she is one very forgiving witch…” She made that sound doubtful. “Or she’s very, very strong. And her bond to you is…very strong.”

  Huh.

  Jaxon stood as if to leave. “I’ve got to go, too, Torque, unless you want me to stay, man?”

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you, Jaxon. I mean it.”

  “Any time, you know that. It’s just…” he broke off and rubbed a hand through his hair and Torque frowned. “I have to check on some things. You know.”

  Ah, the girl, Joey. “Yes, of course. Please, go. I’ll call with an update.”

  Jaxon nodded. “Later, then. Sorcha.”

  “Jaxon.” Sorcha nodded and tilted her head, watching Jaxon shift out of the room. Even after he was gone she stared after him. “He’s up to something, isn’t he?”

  Torque shrugged when she looked at him. He wasn’t saying a word about Jaxon and his human. Not yet, maybe never. “I’m sure he has things to do. So do you, I’m sure. Thank you for coming, Sorcha.”

  “I want to check in on her again. Call me for any reason. Any.”

  “Did you hear of the raid?”

  She rolled her eyes, but nodded. “Yes, but that is merely a blip. You and I both know the cell wasn’t the head of the beast. Merely one extension of the whole. I fear cutting it off will only have dozens more sprouting up.”

  “Hydra.”

  Sorcha nodded at his reference to the mythical Greek monster. Who would be their Hercules, then?

  “Funny, I wonder. But that raid was quick. Not that it hasn’t struck a painful blow, but I worry it will also start a progression of events we aren’t ready to meet.”

  He worried the same. When he wasn’t out of his mind over Beauty. If she would only wake the—

  “Torque, do you always have to swear so? I think my next rule will be no swearing.”

  His heart tripped to a stop. “I’m spanking you.”

  “What? I earned some brownie points?” He’d never heard anything as beautiful as Beauty’s rough-from-sleep voice teasing the hell out of him.

  “Damn, sweetheart, you scared the—”

  He found himself pulled into a warm embrace, nearly crushing her in turn, before Sorcha cleared her throat and ended their little reunion.

  “We have company. Try not to swear so much. Why am I in bed?” Beauty demanded. She pulled away from him and straightened the bedding like the Queen of Sheba.

  Sorcha laughed and sat on the other side of their bed. “I’m not offended. Torque has a very colourful vocabulary. I’m Sorcha and I’ve heard of you, Beauty. It seems I owe you thanks for saving and healing one of my own. Hunter had nothing but good to say of you.”

  “Hunter?” Beauty tried to sit up but when Torque saw her arms trembling, he jerked two pillows behind her and settled her back. Maybe a bit too rough, because both witches stared at him. Beauty huffed a laugh and took his hand. He held her tenderly, afraid to touch her.

  “Oh, please. I won’t break.”

  “You scared the shit out of me. Never do.”

  “Torque, it’s very impolite to mind speak when others are in the room. It’s like speaking Old Sumerian when no one can understand.”

  Beauty coloured and smiled. Her hands were cold.

  “I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I forget so often,” she said.

  Sorcha shrugged and said, “It’s only natural. You two are new to your bond.”

  It wasn’t a question, but Beauty nodded. “Yes, but it’s strong.”

  Torque felt a bit like the conversation had suddenly turned tense. Beauty seemed oddly on guard with Sorcha, and her response had a bit of a cautious bite in it that he recognised as her temper heating.

  He tightened his grip on Beauty’s small hand but she didn’t glance away from the silent battle rolling on between her and Sorcha.

  Finally, Sorcha nodded. “I can see that. And you’ve healed him. And Hunter. Tabithia thinks you are strong. Well, actually, she thinks you’re insane to bond Torque.”

  Why did that sound like she had a ‘but’ in there? Frowning, he narrowed his eyes on Sorcha.

  “Sorcha, thank you for your help. Should you be going?” Beauty suggested, shocking the shit out of him. He jerked at glance to see she hadn’t glanced away from Sorcha.

  Sorcha laughed lightly and tilted her head. “I would, but first, I think we need to talk alone. Beauty—that isn’t your name, is it?”

  “Oh, hell no. You’re not talking without me—”

  Beauty’s other hand came up to cover his reassuringly. Almost possessively, he thought.

  “Torque stays. No, Beauty is not my name, but I like it. Torque likes it, so it’s Beauty.”

  He stared at Beauty for a full minute. She was defending him? And sounded like she was going to say more but stopped. She was pissed. At Sorcha? He suddenly felt like he was a little boy peeking in the keyhole while his parents discussed adult things.

  “And you realise you are without your memory because there is a spell binding your memories that only can be broken by killing
the mage, or having him remove the spell? This is why you were hurt. Something triggered your memories, and when that happens? The spell kicks in a painful burst of—”

  Beauty made a cutting gesture with her hand and said, “Enough. I know. And this means?”

  Mouth open to say something, he blanked and closed it. Sorcha eyed Beauty like she’d just knocked her down a peg or two. And she had. No doubt, Sorcha had thought to jostle Beauty a bit to see…what?

  “You’re good. Very good. But your soul is tainted. The spell binding you is intense. It will grow. You’re strong, but not strong enough that it won’t chip away until you can do nothing but fall. You saw what evil can do when you cured Torque. I’m guessing you recognised the evil stain on his soul because you have one as well.”

  “What are you talking about?” He’d jumped up and was yelling before she’d even finished.

  Beauty didn’t glance at him. She focused on Sorcha. He felt it then, or sensed it. Power. Something was up between the two witches and he wasn’t allowing it.

  “Sorcha, you need to leave. Now.”

  Neither woman looked at him.

  Sulphur and thunderstorms clouded the air. Fisting his hands, he tried to read Beauty but she’d blocked him. Eyes flashing to the lightest, almost silvery green, her brow lowered in a frown. Sorcha merely sat and met her eyes, hers not shifting colour, but he could sense her power, the flow of it deep, so deep he doubted she’d ever tapped the bottom.

  “How do you know there was a curse on Torque?”

  Sorcha raised a shoulder in a shrug. “I didn’t. Not until I saw him again and sensed the difference.”

  “Then how do you know that I have a curse?”

  For a minute, he luxuriated in her badass brain, then jerked out of his daze. “Enough, Sorcha. Beauty isn’t cursed and she isn’t evil. Cut the shit.”

  Sorcha’s lips twitched as if she was suddenly fighting a grin. “Fine, fine. You’ve always been so bossy. Good luck, Beauty, with that one.”

  “Oh, I have it handled. We have rules.”

  His stomach did a nosedive. If she so much as breathed a word about their little rules, he’d—