by Shannyn Leah
“You’re there every night to bond with me. To unite us. To pop your man seeds in my woman garden for the next generation of Gatekeepers.” Her accusation may have sounded silly, but it was accurate.
He chuckled.
She didn’t.
“Do you think I’m your puppet and you’re dangling me around by the strings?”
He frowned. “Brea, I don’t see you as my puppet,” he whispered. Again, his face softened as it he truly cared for her.
How was that even possible?
Soulmates.
“You hold your own strings and very well I might add,” Jax said. “I don’t want to be in charge of your strings. And, if you haven’t noticed, I’ve given you the space your sassy attitude requests. It’s forever, you and me, and I’m in no rush.”
Forever? Ugh. He was making this worse by the moment.
“This is our destiny−”
Brea held up her hand. “You’re going to make me vomit in my mouth.” Or grab your neck when my soul decides to conquer my head. “Since you’ve ruined my appointment, let’s go back to the dungeon.”
He stood still a moment longer, before chuckling again and letting her lead the way.
She was going to slap his sexy chuckles back into his oaf-sized mouth.
On the way out of the parlor, Jax placed his hand on the small of her back. Her body welcomed his touch, betraying her dislike of him.
He lowered himself to whisper into her ear and she couldn’t help but notice he smelled of soap and spice. A good combination that had teased her senses all night long.
“The Winters estate is hardly a dungeon,” he said.
She would bet the house had a dungeon.
Gabrielle met them on the street, leaning against her car. She’d changed from her nightwear into a pair of light-wash skinnies and a beaded halter top.
Young sister tattled to big brother, figures.
“Did you get inked?” she asked, with excitement in her voice.
Brea twisted her untouched neck.
Gabrielle frowned. “That’s too bad. A nice new tattoo near your birthmark would have wound Dad so tight he might have exploded. I love my dad, but his reaction would have been more entertaining than breakfast with him and Mr. Unfinished Business here.” She hiked a thumb in Jax’s direction.
Brea was uncomfortable with his family so openly discussing her relationship with Jax, but she’d never considered Jax was getting slack from their lack of bonding...until now. The realization kept her from telling Gabrielle she’d planned on inking directly on the tattoo, not near.
Instead of causing more tension, her first reaction, Brea glanced up at Jax. He sent her a wink, playing down Gabrielle’s story.
Bonding wasn’t a game. She was treading a fine line holding their destiny from Jax. He was right, he hadn’t pushed her to bond. The closest he’d ever come to her birthmark was just now in the tattoo parlor.
“Do you want a lift back home? Or are you riding with Jax?” Gabrielle asked.
Brea looked between the car and bike, not the people who offered. She didn’t know either of them, but for the first time since she’d arrived, her body convinced her mind that Jax was who she wanted to go home with. Maybe they could drive into the country and have a picnic on the cliff...
Brea didn’t have a chance to answer. Gabrielle grabbed the sides of her head with both hands, letting out a startling sound of pain that made Brea jump out of the fantasy she’d created.
Jax was at his sister’s side in a flash. He grasped her shoulders to steady her as her upper torso plummeted forward and another small moan followed.
Brea’s heartbeat accelerated watching Gabrielle obviously having a time vision. It meant someone was playing with the time rips, altering them, and Brea was witnessing it up close and personal.
Brea had only read little detail about the visions but Gabrielle’s shrieks indicated her pain.
“Open the back door,” Jax called to Brea. She flew into action, whipping open the door as Jax came up beside her, carrying Gabrielle. As he set Gabrielle in the back seat, his eyes darted to the street for onlookers. Brea’s eyes followed, finding the streets of the small town rather empty. The few pedestrians walking around paid no attention.
Gabrielle’s groans of pain drew both their attention back to her.
“Grab my pad and paper from my purse,” Gabrielle said.
Jax was already in the front seat, pulling her purse out, like he’d done it a hundred times. He handed her the pad and paper and then took out his phone. Brea wondered how often Gabrielle had visions. How many times had they traveled? What was it like to travel?
Gabrielle called out random words, which Jax jotted down on his phone and she drew images on the pad and the paper that Brea couldn’t make out. It was fast. After only half a minute, a sigh of relief came from Gabrielle followed by another longer groan.
She fell back in the seat, breathing heavily. “I look forward to the day when my body can control that pain,” she said.
“Once you bond with your Second,” Jax said, rubbing her shoulder.
The comment brought Brea back to earth, and slapped the cold truth back into her head. No picnics, no bike rides, no connecting on anything deeper than their bond. It was clear that Seconds meant nothing more to this family than pawns in their lives. For Jax, Brea was his woman garden, and for Gabrielle her Second was her pain control, and who knew what Declan expected from his Second.
“Gabby, you okay?” Jax asked, with the same concern, protection, and love, she’d swore she’d seen in the tattoo parlor.
Brea couldn’t help wonder if she would ever get those things from him, or if he really only saw her as a part of the package that made him whole.
Gabrielle smiled at him, her cheeks flush with color, and sweat beading down the sides of her face. “Peachy, big brother.” Her smile fell and she pressed a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes and lying back against the seat.
“Alright, let’s get back to the house and sort this out.” Jax turned to Brea. “Drive her home,” he instructed.
There was the bossy Gatekeeper she knew and expected.
“You drive her home.”
She heard Gabrielle giggle behind Jax, before he slammed her door closed to try and tower threateningly over Brea.
Bring it, Gatekeeper.
“This isn’t part of the game between you and I. This is what I do,” he said.
I do.
“My job.”
My job.
Her world just became everything about him.
“You might not like me, but you will damn well have respect for the job and my sister is the job. Drive her home.”
He was scary, she would give him that. No wonder the tattoo artist had backed off.
Brea snatched the keys out of Jax’s hand. “Don’t get your big boy panties in a twist, and see if you can keep up.”
Chapter Four
BREA GOT ASSIGNED to kitchen duty. She wasn’t exactly sure why she got stuck in the kitchen, when the Winters had a full staff of servants. Presumptuously, Jax planned to keep her from taking off while he was gone on the rip.
Control freak.
Mixing a batch of, whatever liquid was in the bowl in front of her, Brea wondered what it would feel like to travel a time rip. Exhilarating, she bet. Probably like nothing else in the world. Incredible wouldn’t even begin to describe what it would be like to travel the past time periods of the world. And, at the same time, stressful to have time on your hands...literally.
Had the wives of Gatekeepers ever embarked on a rip before? Everything about Gatekeepers lives was kept so confidential.
Brea scowled at the batter in the bowl, hating being in the dark, married to a Gatekeeper. To be completely honest, she hated cooking, too. That was a lot of hate to deal with in one day.
But Jax was punishing her for taking off this morning. She’d watched him share words with his mother, and here she now sat...demoted. An outsid
er being babysat.
Ugh.
“Come on, Sece,” Millie, the cook, said, coming up behind Brea and giving her elbow a knock.
Brea mixed the batter more vigorously, to rouse a smile from Millie. When the older lady turned away, Brea stirring slowed and she glared at the wooden spoon. Was this place so ancient, they hadn’t heard of a blender? Or was this simply Millie’s idea of keeping her occupied?
Brea hated the nickname reserved for Seconds, too: “Sece.”. It was pronounced like Cece.
Hate, hate, hate.
She was starting to sound like a broken record and she hated−was disappointed−in herself for doing so. When had she become too good to cook? It made her feel privileged...like a Winters.
Millie bustled around the only part of the house that had been upgraded. The kitchen had its share of age to it, with the brick walls and brick archway above the island where Brea sat. But the appliances were all upgraded to sparkling chrome and the floors gleamed with a dark marble. The pantry was the size of Brea’s apartment back home. Her old, empty apartment, she realized, now waiting for the next tenant. Why was she envious of the new tenant sitting in her small living room, looking out the small window over the city?
Freedom.
Millie had been busy preparing meals for the day, in addition to baking up a storm. All the while, fetching the ingredients and tools needed for whatever Brea was blending.
She may have mentioned cake, muffins or cupcakes, but Brea hadn’t paid attention.
Millie was also a Second, so for that, Brea gave her bonus points. Still, Millie had been denied her own future, too, placed into the workforce of Gatekeepers.
“Millie, can’t you see Brea doesn’t like your little nickname?” Jax’s grandmother swiftly moved into the kitchen, with a trail of chiffon billowing from her red top behind her.
Millie frowned. “It was no insult,” she said, her blonde eyebrows crinkling as tight together as the blonde hair bun upon her head.
Eve Winters winked at Brea. Brea wondered how Eve had caught her dislike of the term−was she that obvious?
The old woman turned back to Millie. “Remember when you first came here? A stubborn little Second,” she threw the last part over her shoulder at Brea with another wink.
Millie blushed. She had to be twenty years younger than Eve, even if Eve was gorgeous for her late seventies with a sleek white-haired pixie cut against a light complexion that made her black rectangle glasses pop.
“Can you give me and my newest granddaughter some privacy?” Eve asked.
Brea hadn’t planned on moving from the stool until her knight in shining armor, better known to her as the controlling bonder-boy, returned home to rescue, or rather, fetch, her. That dungeon sounded appealing right now.
Millie stopped her bustling about the kitchen and excused herself, leaving Brea stirring a batter that would probably never get baked.
Brea stuck her finger in the cool mixture and tasted the mixture, confirming butter cream flavor. As she pulled her finger out of her mouth, she caught Eve, arms crossed, eyes narrowed on her.
Oops.
Eve’s slow, meaningful strides brought her to Brea’s side. The older woman climbed onto the stool next to Brea, and folded her legs gracefully.
Then, surprising Brea, Eve deftly stuck her own finger in the bowl for a taste test.
Shocked, open-mouthed and speechless, Brea watched, almost in horror. When no other emotions came to her, she laughed. A long laugh, which she couldn’t decide was real, or simply exhaustion taking over.
“That’s better,” Eve said. “One day, my dear, you will be in my shoes, and will watch as everyone forgets how to treat a new Second.”
Brea’s smile fell. Still labeled a Second.
“Sweetheart, it’s not an insult to you. You and I, as well as my daughter-in-law, are more connected than you think. All Seconds. All born with the mark that bares us to these Winters’ men, and all to the eldest son.”
The eldest son of a Gatekeeper.
It was hard to believe that this poised and gracious woman who was held with such high respect, was once a Second. And Annalieese, too, for that matter. Brea found it difficult to compare herself to them or even consider herself their equal.
“It is a sad day when the world of Gatekeepers catches up to you and, suddenly, not only do you have to say goodbye to your husband every time there is a rip, but also know that one day you will have to watch your children, and then your grandchildren, do the same. As a woman on her third generation, I will tell you, it doesn’t get any easier.”
Great. That’s what Brea needed to hear today. Her life was only about to get more difficult. Thank you fate, or destiny. You both need a good slap upside the head.
“But, one day, you will look back on this transitioning time in your life and chuckle.”
Brea doubted it. She would never fit in here enough to complete the transition. She could feel the distance as deeply as her detachment from her own family. She’d never quite fit in anywhere. She wasn’t going to share her feelings with Eve. As nice as she was being right now, Brea didn’t know, or trust, anyone.
Eve, on the other hand, continued talking like they were best of friends. “The day will come when you won’t look at Jax like simply an arrangement, but rather, as the love of your choosing, your soulmate, your guardian.”
How could she ever look at a man who had arranged her to have a babysitter as her soulmate?
“Once you bond,” Eve finished.
Brea’s blood boiled.
The old hag was trying to talk her into bonding. When all else fails, send in the old, wise lady to alter her mind. Couldn’t they all just back off?
“Don’t give me that look,” Eve said.
“I’m sorry,” Brea said, sarcastically. “Did I insult you?”
Eve’s perfectly plucked eyebrows arched, and her dark grey eyes smoldered. “That tone is insulting,” she said.
“So is the lack of respect throughout this household.”
Eve’s slow, understanding smile worked its way into alleviating Brea’s uncertainties.
How did she do that? Was it because Brea was beginning to relate to this woman? Eve was the only person in this house who had anything in common with her and who talked to her like she was a human being and not Jax’s soulmate.
“You’re married to a Gatekeeper, Brea. Not only a Gatekeeper, but the firstborn. The next trio is in your hands. You hold the highest respect. But you have to earn it. You have to prove your commitment.”
“I think your crest on my neck speaks volumes.”
Eve nodded. “Speaks volume of your destiny, not your loyalty. When I was bonded, it was done in the company of both families and Council. Since then, things have evolved, giving couples privacy to make the bonding connection their own.”
Neck vows before sex vows. Didn’t Eve find it a bit odd to be talking about this with her?
“But you, my dear, will make the Council wonder if this change was a good idea. You could change your children’s future, forcing them to awkwardly bond in front of family and Council. Turn back what we’ve worked so hard to push past. Trust me. When you bond, you want it to be special, between only you and Jax.”
Her children.
Brea’s self-righteous mountains came crashing around her, sending her down an avalanche of doubt. Was she being selfish? She hadn’t considered the fate of her children past the misery of her own fate. Terrified of entering the Gatekeepers’ world didn’t change the fact she would have children. Jax’s children. And they would be the next trio, and there was no way Brea could fight that. They would be raised in schools like Jax and his siblings, and respected, unlike her upbringing. But was it worth fighting for the Seconds kids’ futures if it damaged her own children’s future?
Brea rubbed her right temple and then pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Consider this,” Eve said. “You fear your children’s future as Gatekeepers, wish it wa
sn’t your future or theirs...”
It was incredible how well Eve knew Brea.
“When the time comes and Gabrielle and Declan bond with their soulmates, they will be saddened their children won’t experience the life of Gatekeepers. If by fault, one of your children die earlier than expected, Declan’s children will assume position. But what kind of brother and uncle would Declan be to wish such a fate on his brother’s children? So, it’s not only the Seconds that have issues to deal with in this life.”
Eve stuck her finger back in the batter. “This is delicious,” she said licking the gooey concoction off her finger.
Eve’s words left Brea with more to consider, opening her eyes to not only the struggle of herself and other Seconds, but the Gatekeepers too. She knew everything wasn’t perfect, but she was also willing to accept not all rules from the beginning of time were right, simply because they were first. Like the bonding ritual. It should be private, just as Council had changed it. The way she felt in the tattoo parlor when Jax almost touched her birthmark...she would never want someone around to watch her lose her control to it. Only Jax.
But would fighting everyone over bonding bring the best attention to how wrong the rules were or go backwards like Eve pointed out? At the same time, if Brea bonded with Jax, she still didn’t know what her future held with him, besides being a baby maker.
The pain behind her eyes doubled, throbbing and she rubbed her temple again.
“I could tell you how wonderful Jax is,” Eve continued. “But you will find out soon enough.” Eve sent her a mischievous grin that made Brea wonder if the older lady had been a little rough around the edges when she’d first arrived at the estate. “Or, I could tell you the wonderful stories when he wasn’t so wonderful.”
A real smile caught Brea’s lips then and she didn’t try to hide it. A distraction from her own headache sounded like a well needed plan.
Brea scooped a finger full of batter. “I’m listening,” she said.