We emerged from the bathroom into our dark room. He slowly made his way through the darkness to the enormous bed that had greeted us when we arrived. He set me on my feet just to the side of it. Drake’s forearms lay against both my shoulders while his hands cradled the back of my head and his thumbs caressed my earlobes.
His voice was pained, “After tomorrow all of this will be behind us. I promise, you will never want for anything.”
“I only want for one thing right now.” I stood on my tip toes as my lips gently brushed his. As I began to ease back, Drake brought his mouth to mine – hard. Sparks rained on me from the inside out. I wanted him, I wanted everything about him. If things didn’t go well tomorrow with the Council, I would never be satisfied with just eternity with him. I wasn’t willing to give up this life. I wanted this touch, this physical thirst quenched every day for the rest of my life. I wanted the rest of my life.
Drake reached down and flung the covers open on the bed. His weight pressed against me as we fell onto it together. “Maybe you didn’t hear me. . . I said you’ll never want for anything.”
His strong hands turned light as a feather when they began caressing the length of me. Goose bumps erupted on my skin from his touch. Drake murmured, “You are beautiful.”
The words were like a comforting melody to my ears. I remembered the flawless images of me playing in his dreams as he had napped earlier. I wondered if he could see himself through my eyes? His blond hair with streaks of gold from the sun, his chiseled chest that looked like it might have been molded from a statue, the way the blue of his eyes was more calming than the sky on a bright summer’s day. “You’re pretty sexy yourself.”
Beyond his physical attractiveness, there was something about Drake. Each night when we drifted off to sleep, his arms wrapped around me in a protective cocoon, the rhythm of our heartbeats in sync as his warmth encompassed me.
Drake rolled onto his back and slid my body over his, so I was draped across him. His eyes were locked on mine as his smile faded. Drake’s words echoed the love in both our hearts when he said, “I need you.”
His hand reached behind my head and pulled my lips down onto his, crushing me into him. His tongue slid into my mouth desperately seeking mine, as a quiet moan released from deep inside him. Our bodies were pressed together, skin on skin, as his hands began kneading their way up and down my back.
Just when I thought I couldn’t wait one more second, he lifted me onto him and we made love. Slow thrusts prolonged the pleasure. His touch awakened the desire that sat just under the surface of my skin. We moved together as if our bodies were made for each other, existing for the sole purpose of finding pleasure in the other’s body. Our release came together as we stayed wrapped in each other’s arms.
Minutes passed as the euphoria I felt hung in the air. There was no place else in the world I wanted to be. There was no room in my head to consider what we would be up against tomorrow, because every ounce of me wanted only to remain in this moment.
Drake cleared his throat, “I hope I was able to get your mind off of Cameron.”
He had. Although I’m sure it wasn’t his intention, I found humor in his words. “So, that’s your plan? Whenever it looks like I’m going to have a meltdown, you’ll just pull me into a dark room and make love to me?”
“Well, I’d like to say I did it just for your benefit, but it may have been a little selfish on my part, too.”
Chapter 7
(Zethus Chiron – South Africa)
This airport was selected long ago for its proximity to Centurion. Each family built hangars that stand empty most of the year. Too many family planes in one location would create unwanted attention and spur curiosity. The staff at this airport learned long ago to turn a blind eye to our planes; in return their wallets grew fat each time a Centaur Council meeting was held. My jet had just taxied into the hangar when I saw the tail markings on the aircraft touching down on the runway. Hers was the only other family plane to carry the Chiron crest.
I left my wife and sons at home, though all three had wanted to come along. Zandra had forbidden me to leave Thessaly when she became the Chairman. I had never had a reason to leave the serenity of Thessaly, until now. My banishment from Centaur society had happened so long ago that few, if any, even knew I was still alive.
I could have flown commercial. I could have chartered a private jet, but something inside me wouldn’t let me. The judgment passed on me was for murders I had never committed. It was Zandra who should have been locked away all those years. She stole the lives of our parents and in the process stole them both from me. No, I would no longer confine myself to Thessaly. It was time her precious Council knew the truth.
I thought of my boys at home with their mother, still furious with me for refusing to bring them with me. Both had argued that I would be safer with a son flanking me on each side. I shook my head as if still trying to convince myself – the further away they are from Centurion, the better. This Centaur Council meeting could turn volatile, and I would draw no comfort taking them with me to the pasture.
I got off my plane with little fanfare; no passengers or stowaways accompanied me, so I gingerly made my way down the metal stairs onto the crumbling cement floor. Halfway here I had begun to question my decision and nearly asked the pilot to turn around and take me home. This wasn’t my fight. I had no feelings for the Tak herd one way or the other. I felt my lips twitch at the lie. When Camille had come to my home in Ireland, I felt a draw to her – she was special.
Camille had her mother’s eyes, but the strength she wielded was all her own. I had only met Angela once; it was when she was pregnant. Angela had spent several weeks at my home trying to make sense of her circumstances – I could offer her little more than advice at the time. Ultimately, I had failed Angela. I wouldn’t make the same mistake with her daughter; I would do whatever I could for Camille.
My sister needed to be stopped. I couldn’t idly stand by and let history repeat itself. I wouldn’t allow her to murder another carrying the Chiron blood. I crept in the shadows, unintentionally holding my breath, silently waiting in the corner of the hangar for her plane to be pulled in. A few minutes from now she would see my plane and know I had left Thessaly.
The wings of her plane had barely made it inside the hangar when the jet’s door opened. The plane eased to a stop as a set of metal stairs was rolled to the open door. This ground crew was faster than a scalded dog.
She stood at the top of the metal stairs and looked at my plane. Her lips pursed together tightly in a scowl as I felt my own grow to a satisfied grin. Welcome, sister, I thought from the shadows. She couldn’t hear my thoughts – we had long ago severed our twin connection. The satisfaction in seeing her disdain for my presence warmed my insides. She ambled down the stairs, making a straight line for an awaiting SUV. I called out, “Ah, Sister. I’d hoped the rumors that you were still alive were wrong and you would be sun-bathing in hell by now.”
Her scowl set deeper as she stopped abruptly. Zandra and I had long ago parted ways. My heart was hard and cold where she was concerned. Many a night I thought back to the evening she’d murdered our parents in cold blood. I couldn't count the number of times I’d woken in a cold sweat, having dreamed that my eyes were the last thing she saw as I squeezed the life out of her evil body in revenge for our parents.
My hands began to tremble at my side. Aside from the enforcer waiting in the car, I sensed no other Centaurs in the vicinity. The trembling didn’t arrive out of fear; it was the idea that I could exact revenge, here, with no one to stop me. Adrenaline pumped wildly through my veins as I remembered images of Mam and Dad lying on the floor in a pool of their own blood.
Zandra didn’t seem the least bit rattled by my presence. “Zethus, I am surprised you finally left the serenity of Thessaly. Feeling brave, are you? You still have many enemies among the Centaur.”
I hadn’t heard my own sister’s voice in decades; she now spoke with an
American accent. It didn’t suit her. Her hair was loose at her shoulders; the years had faded her sunny blonde hair to a brilliant white. As I drew closer, her face wasn’t the one I remembered; wrinkles were now set deep in her face. The sister I remembered was barely visible anymore. I wasn’t sure why it never occurred to me she would have aged just as I had. My response was measured and slow, “I have only one enemy.”
Her scowl deepened to a grimace. “Why are you here? You’re too old to be considered for Chairman. You have no business here in Centauride.” The clip of her words did nothing to cloak the condescension of her tone.
“I bought that plane after I met your granddaughter. I’d like to think that my opinion is o’ some value to the Council.”
Zandra crossed her arms as she spat, “Keep thinking it. You’re the only one who believes it.”
She tried to walk past me. My hands were still shaking. I didn’t reach out to try to stop her, but I said, “I met your granddaughter.”
Her answer might as well have been wrapped in hate and tied up with a hostile bow. “I’m aware.”
“I’ve heard rumors o’ her betrothed.” Near fantastical rumors, I needed to see for myself. I wanted the rumors to be true. If Drake really were a Centaur Warrior, Camille could ask for no better protection. A chairman with a true warrior at her side could make hard decisions, lead our race without fear.
Her answer was emotionless, “They’re no longer betrothed. They’ve married. Why are you interested in the rumors?”
I thought it quite obvious. “If they’re true, Chiron has spoken.”
“Chiron did not speak. The same would have happened to any Centaur dumb enough to hold Hercules’ arrow. Drake Nash drained what was left of our family’s magic. It’s nothing more than the protection promised to our line generations ago.”
I could hardly believe my ears. Did she believe what she was saying? “It’s more than that an’ you know it.”
Her brown eyes narrowed on mine. “Do not pretend to know what I do, Brother.”
I didn’t like the way she said it. It was I who saved her life all those years ago. I sacrificed everything for her; and what did I get for it? Whispers in dark pubs, glares from strangers, people pointing and gossiping about my wife and children. I always believed the guilt she must have carried with her every day of her life was a more fitting punishment, so I let her lies go unchecked. Here, decades later, in this empty hangar I refused to let her pretend anymore.
My words were angry, “I know that yer thirs’ for power cost our parents their lives. What you don’ know, what we both kep’ from ya: our father and I both held that arrow and neither o’ us was given Chiron’s magic.”
A flustered look crossed her face. Few times in my life had I wished for our twin connection to be restored, but in this moment, I would have loved to know what was going through her deceitful mind. Her voice was low, each word articulated carefully, “Our father did not touch that arrow.”
I’d always been a decent poker player, but this time I didn’t hold my cards close – I let the joy I felt show clearly on my face. Our father went to his grave never revealing his secrets to her. I was only too happy to revel in it. “Didn’t he now? I could have sworn it t’was his hand tha’ put the arrow in mine. T’was his voice pleading with me ta guard it with me life. T'was my hand that put the arrow in the hand of the guardian of Angela's son.”
Zandra’s eyes narrowed to angry slits as she spat her words back at me. “You killed him for it! You tried to drain its magic but Chiron wouldn’t let you. All these years you still hold on to your fantasy. Chiron would never have trusted his magic to a murderer!”
Her words caught me off guard. Her delusions were getting the better of her. She had told herself the same lie for so long, maybe she was starting to believe it herself. “I killed him far it? Our parents were keeping the arrow from you! They chose to sacrifice their lives o’er tellin’ you they gave it to me.”
Zandra looked aghast. Either she was the best actress on the planet, or she had truly convinced herself that she had not killed our parents. She looked me square in the eye when she shouted, “I never laid a hand on our parents. It was you who killed them.”
I looked into Zandra’s angry brown eyes. The eyes I remembered were kinder and gentler. The two of us had been inseparable as children. She and I could go for months without words. We didn’t need them, our twin connection was so strong. We knew each other’s minds as well as we knew our own.
As a young child I sensed the darkness in her – it was in both of us. She had been a sweet girl, but had a mean streak if provoked. The darkness she kept at bay as a child looked as though it had swallowed her whole as an adult. I had long ago come to terms with my demons; had Zandra handed her life over to her own? Could I ever think of her as the other half of me again?
She continued staring at me. As she did, something in her eyes softened and the angry look gave way to the chestnut color – they were the same as I remembered as a child. I leaned in and saw the innocence I remembered shining back at me.
Zandra was telling the truth. Zandra believed I killed our parents. This realization nearly made my knees buckle. I stammered, “Zandra. . . I didn’t. . . I couldn’t. . . I loved ‘em.”
Her tone was unwavering as she backed away from me, “You did. You were the only one who could have. No one could have gotten close enough to them but you or me. I’ve gone over it thousands of times in my mind. Say what you want, but I know the truth.” The darkness began clouding her irises again as I watched the hatred she had for me stream through them. Without flinching, she warned, “You were safe in Thessaly, but you’re in my world now, you fool.”
Butterflies erupted in my stomach. Could I have been wrong all this time? I thought back to that night. We had just finished Sunday dinner at my parent’s farm in Thessaly. Dad was a towering Centaur; even though I was full grown, I still looked up to him. His hands were the size of baseball mitts, and his arms were larger than my thighs. When Dad spoke, no one questioned him – no one.
Mam had made a shepherd’s pie for dinner. It had just been the three of us eating, and the aroma sat heavily in the air.
I remembered that night like it was yesterday. My life could not have been better. My betrothal to Maggie had just been announced, and my parents were pleased. Zandra had been on an outing with Maggie, escorted by one of Maggie’s brothers. It was a musical put on by a traveling theater group at a castle just on the other side of the pasture. Normally our whole family would have attended, but Dad insisted Zandra and Maggie go together; he needed to talk to me about an issue with the Centaur Council.
Our father was the Chairman. It was time for him to pass his chairmanship down. Zandra had never been interested in the politics of our race; she favored the arts. I was his logical choice. It wasn’t my place to ask for him to step down; I waited until he believed I was ready for it. When he sent Zandra out for the night with my betrothed, I believed he had made his decision.
After we had finished dinner, Mam stood to clear the dishes as Dad pushed his chair away from the table and barked, “Zethus, come with me to the barn.” A smile forms on my lips as I still remember how the sharpness of his voice made me flinch. At the time I thought myself a man, but compared to him, I was still just a boy.
I stretched my arms up high into the air as we stood on the front porch. Dad held his pipe and packed it with tobacco while looking out into the pasture. I know we spoke, but I don’t remember the conversation. The weather, maybe? I was waiting for him to bring up his chairmanship. I kept waiting for him to tell me he intended to pass his position onto me, but those words never came. No matter how hard I try, I have never been able to remember the content of our conversation on the porch that night.
I had no idea that would be our last conversation. Had I known, I would have more actively participated; I would have burned his words into my memory. I felt the guilt for years about not remembering his words on the porch
. I chastised myself for being too consumed with the idea that I would be the next chairman and that he would be the one to make it so.
I hardly remember our walk to the barn, either. We kept goats, sheep, a few cows for milk, and hens for eggs. My childhood had been consumed with tending to them. As a teenager I vowed never to have a herd of any animals, I so despised the work that went with them.
As a young man, I was known for binges at the pub and my fair share of brawls. Dad rarely commented on my actions, other than the occasional, “Get it out of your system while you’re young.” Mam was more hands on and less willing to accept his “boys will be boys” attitude.
He could have passed the chairmanship onto me when I turned eighteen, but he didn’t. He held onto it longer than most. He must have known that it was the draw of the power, not the responsibility of the chairmanship that I craved. He knew I had mates at the local pubs, but worried that I would not have the first clue how to earn the respect of the heads of families. I was headstrong, and I had never put anyone else’s interests before mine. I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t learn self-reflection until long after he took his final breath.
When we arrived at the barn, the smell repulsed me. I had neglected the daily raking of the animals’ droppings because I’d been out with several of my chums the night before. I knew it bothered my father when I neglected the animals, but he said nothing. Instead he reached high up into the rafters, where a weak second floor had been built to hold bales of hay, and pulled out an object wrapped in a burlap sack.
Dad was a man of few words. He looked at the dusty burlap, squared his shoulders on mine, and put the sack in my hand. “Protect the arrow. Tell no one it’s yours. Sever your connection so Zandra never learns the truth of where it is. Trust no one.”
He didn’t tell me it was Chiron’s arrow. He didn’t need to. I felt the arrow’s shape through the burlap. I’d heard the legends. I knew exactly what he had just entrusted to me. Pride is a dangerous emotion, and my chest swelled with the knowledge of what I was holding. I came to my senses just long enough to ask, “Sever me connection? But she’s me sister?”
Centaur Redemption (Touched Series) Page 7