Queens Rise: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 6)

by Jamie Magee

  So he pushed her away, he was an asshat in the beginning. Adair’s memory was rock-solid when it came to that fact.

  However, now, as she laid there and breathed in and out in this white haze, she was almost sure she expected him to be. And when he was, somehow, it proved to her they were more than what met the eye. There was something set to mark them forever in their future.

  Not every love flows down a path of bliss. Some loves are tested—they are more than tested, they are tortured, asked to bear the unbearable. But in Adair’s mind, those loves…they’re real, full of spice and adventure. They make you feel the way the human condition states you should—alive.

  She didn’t remember anything different about meeting Judge for the first time, only the same sure feeling she had always had—that he had ruined her heart with one glance.

  But then again, somewhere in the haze, she could imagine how her life would have been if she had read the words she left in the past. How she would test the words in the letter and watch Judge prove them right without knowing them. How she would work the spells she told herself to, when she told herself to.

  Somehow, the daydream was so real for a few precious seconds, she couldn’t remember which was true and which was make-believe.

  Adair moved her hand to her stomach as she thought of the last change, the one that seemed to be more science fiction than anything.

  Did Finley really go into the Fold? Did she take a version of Adair with her?

  As if she were willed by her questions, Finley emerged in Adair’s line of sight. Adair grinned lazily at her thinking her to be a living daydream, an angel.

  “Part of you was with me for a time, yes…but then we had to send it back to keep you strong. To protect your tomorrow.”

  Adair breathed in. “Did—did we do it?”

  “Almost. We have to fight him…we have to wake him up,” Finley answered as tears welled in her eyes.

  “I can save Talley. I can give him a throne…he will rule the risen dead in this plane.”

  Finley grinned, “He never wanted power, just us…his girls. Happy and safe.”

  “I haven’t been happy in a long time, Finley.”

  “It’s not true, I have seen you smile…I have seen you in your dreams. You came here every night, Adair.”

  Adair furrowed her brow in doubt.

  “You will remember when this war is fought…when you look back, you will know you were never alone. There wasn’t one moment you missed. The evil did not rob you—you brought it to its very knees.”

  Adair drew in a deep breath. “Something is happening,” she said as she felt herself growing stronger.

  “Your body is coming to you. It’s time.” She looked over her shoulder. “Let’s go home…little dove.”

  Adair’s eyes flew open, and then she sat up, realizing it was a dream—the white haze was a dream. It had to be.

  Sand was all around her, and she could hear others yelling—trying to get Finley to come to them.

  Talley was attacking.

  Carefully, not taking her eyes off the prize, she reached in her bag and pulled out a vile. If she was able to control Talley, pull the evil from him, then that meant she had broken the curse in the past, and if she had, then the next step was to give control of the risen dead to Talley. It was a spell that had to be done immediately or whoever had risen them would remain in control and could make Talley and Mia do what they wished. Adair’s sole goal throughout these last weeks was to give Talley peace—she was determined to not fail.

  Chapter Four

  Adair took precious seconds as she collected her strength, as she gauged the perfect moment to attack.

  Then, she rose in one fluid motion.

  Her long dark hair whipped over her shoulders, her emerald eyes were alit with a haunting glow. Her strides were long and even, determined.

  Seconds later, she walked through the flame barrier, even hovered there for a moment, watching, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

  Finley had seen her. Though she was fighting, struggling, there was pride somewhere in her expression, there was hope this was almost over.

  Adair extended her hand and arched her fingers as she began to chant in a dead language, one that was forbidden by evil itself to be spoken.

  Talley’s knife fell in one swoop, and as it sliced through Finley, it wasn’t blood that spilled from her, but black smoke, and in a rush, the energy of it plowed into Adair, making her all the stronger.

  Talley was dumbfounded as he stared at the fading body beneath him.

  “Baby,” Finley’s voice said. She had emerged from the flames, looking exactly as she had in Adair’s dream moments before, all in white.

  Talley raged toward her but then halted when he understood Adair was chanting at him.

  Finley and Adair carefully circled him. Talley growled and looked between them, knowing what target he was after but clearly wary of Finley because she had risen.

  Adair couldn’t hear the others outside the fire, but she sensed them. She could see who must be Mia and his chain, something that would come in handy if Adair found a way to corral Talley.

  Adair kept her chant, and as she did, Talley’s face morphed. It was less him and more of the witch she had faced in the woods this very night—Zale.

  He’d lunge, and Talley would draw back. Talley was fighting from within and growing stronger as Finley called him—encouraged him.

  The standoff, the words that were like acid, went on for precious seconds, then, without warning—Talley lost his hold, and his body charged Adair, knocking her to the ground.

  The second his body touched hers, he wailed and leaned back. He was on his knees between her legs, and she was chanting, undaunted, by the evil she saw flickering in his eyes.

  “No!” he roared.

  Right then, Mia’s chain found Talley and entrapped him.

  Adair made it to her feet and spit the spell out once more. And as she did, Talley’s head dropped. He was all but limp in the chain Mia had him in.

  Adair changed her words, then. She knew she had broken the curse. Zale could not hurt her anymore, at least not in the way that he had plotted to since before she was even an idea.

  Powerfully, Adair began the chant that would give the power of the dead to Talley—officially robbing this master plan from the evil who had hatched it.

  She opened the vile, and the violet fire hissed out of the bottle then circled Talley’s body, pulling and tightening.

  An enraged roar was heard, then a rush of dark energy—in the shape of Zale’s image—left Talley just has he collapsed.

  Mia’s chain grew lax, and he, too, fell into the fire. Adair spoke the spell over him, only changing a word or two, making it more of a blessing. She was telling him who his leader was, who Aleay was to him now.

  It was far less, but black smoke left him too.

  The fire all around them started to dwindle, but the barrier was still in place.

  Adair looked up, still in battle-ready stance. In every direction, the dark energy had gone. She couldn’t see it, but she sensed it, ever so vaguely.

  Finley dove across the sand, trying to reach Talley. Adair was at her side. It took all their strength, but the pair of them turned him to his back.

  His face in sleep was lax, peaceful, with the slightest hint of smile, the way it had always looked in the past—not one notion of evil.

  Seconds later, he opened his eyes. Confused, he reached up to Finley. “Who hurt you?” he rasped as he pulled himself upward.

  Finley cried harder as she smiled and kissed his lips. She pulled away, swaying her hands across his face, as he looked in every direction, trying to get a grasp on his bearings.

  The last thing he remembered was seeing Zale walk down the back alley toward the Cauldron and going to stop him.

  “It happened,” Finley said.

  Talley’s eyes grew wider as if he was silently asking her if they were thinking the same thing but not wan
ting to say so in front of Adair. Finley nodded shakily. “She did good. Our girl did good.”

  Talley reached for Adair and pulled her and Finley to him, rocking them back and forth and as he took in the scene. He was on the beach, and all the boys were around him, half looking like they wanted to destroy him and half like they wanted to pull him into a hug.

  Rush was the hardest to read. He was as still as a statue, frozen in disbelief. Talley’s gaze moved to Talon who only gave him one nod, a nod that said it all—he had just watched Adair walk through hell and needed to get to her. Then Talley’s gaze shifted to Judge. He was prowling back and forth, trying to get Adair’s attention, to get past this barrier around them. He was frantic.

  “How?” Talley asked on a breath.

  He knew Finley had several hopes and plans, but it all came to Adair, and from the looks of things around him, it wasn’t an easy road.

  Finley looked right at Adair, “You remember now? You remember your dreams?”

  Finley’s words sparked a flood of memories in Adair’s mind. She gasped. Even though she had defeated the curse, she hadn’t taken the time to realize how she had.

  The purple boundary was dwindling even more but was still a barrier. Adair knew why it was up, the Fold was open—the safe threshold of it anyways. The barrier would remain until the precious gift Adair had stored there was retrieved.

  “You did it, Adair. It’s all coming back now, isn’t it?” Finley said.

  It was.

  Adair looked to the open air around her. She breathed as deeply as she could, focusing on this slip between time.

  And then, it was there, the protected passage.

  Tears spilled down Adair’s face. It must’ve been a terrifying sight because she was sure she not only heard Judge scream her name but she could also see him stalking back and forth, trying to reach her.

  Though her eyes were spilling with tears, Adair gasped a smile and then held her hands out as she rose to her knees.

  Seconds later, the tiniest figure emerged. Just like in the dreams Adair had flooding her mind, the little girl’s hair was long, the color of caramel, and growing darker with each day. Her eyes…they were her father’s, a knowing blue that reached into the soul as they stared.

  “Come here, little Dove. Come to momma,” Adair whispered to her daughter who was just barely four.

  The little girl squealed then ran across the sand, tripping once and laughing it off.

  Once in her arms, Adair let out a gasping cry that was a mix of laughs and tears.

  “Home now, Momma?”

  “Yes, little Dove,” Adair answered, rushing her hands all over her, ensuring herself it was not a dream. The smell of her, the touch of her—she was real, and they were in the same time on the same plane.

  Moments ticked by as Adair stayed consumed in her utter fascination of what she had overcome.

  In her arms, the little one arched her neck all the way back, looking far over Adair’s head, then she smiled even more and jumped in place. “Daddy!”

  Adair, grasped her and stood as fast as she could, holding her on her hip, looking at a stunned Judge, an expression that was easily matched by everyone behind him, with the exception of the Escorts.

  Rightfully so, they were all standing back as far as possible, giving Judge and Adair a moment.

  “Come here, little Dove,” Finley said, reaching for the child.

  Judge raised his hand. “Don’t.” His tone was unreadable.

  Talley was right behind Adair, looking as shocked as the others but somehow understanding.

  “Judge, you need a minute to understand this,” Finley warned. “She’s never heard a man raise his voice. She has never seen anything but bliss—you will scare her.”

  The barrier was gone then. Talon was at Judge’s right, Rush was at his left.

  “Judge,” Talon said calmly as he stared at the little girl.

  Judge was sick of hearing his name, and he was really sick of people looking at him like a ticking time bomb, including Adair.

  In a flash, he stepped forward, put his arm around Adair and the child, and vanished.

  Seconds later, he appeared, with them in his arms in Adair’s Church.

  Adair felt herself quivering but commanded her voice to be strong. “Baby, let me talk to Daddy. Go watch the magic. Count the sparkles for me.”

  Adair set the little girl down, and after a second of indecision, she rushed closer to the glass dome and jumped in place with an innocent awe as wisps of magic swamp by as if were there for her entertainment only.

  Once Adair was sure she was safe and distracted, she met Judge’s eyes. Her gut was twisting, her breath was jagged, but she did her best to hide it.

  “Jade said I’d betray you and be good with it…she was right.”

  Judge took his eyes from the child for the first time and met Adair’s stare.

  If she was about to tell him that was not his little dove, he was going to come unglued. He was sure he had dreamed of her, he was sure he knew exactly how she felt in his arms. The smell of her.

  With each second, memories that he’d always assumed to be dormant Zen dreams flooded his mind.

  He went from knowing he was going to have to outrun a curse for the rest of his life, to the very next second being handed a life with a broken curse and a family…nothing could explain where he was just then.

  “She’s mine,” was all he managed to say, and again his tone was unreadable. His rigid stance wasn’t helping matters, either.

  “There was only one way to stop this curse,” Adair said. “A child. If my womb was filled with the seed of my soulmate, if a child was born of his—no evil could ever tread there. There wasn’t enough time for you and me. And even if there was…I know you are barely ready for me to be in your life.”

  Adair shifted her glance to the little one. “I merged moments.” She met his stare once more. “You said you felt like you had been here before. I’m sure it felt that way. I went back to the day I met you and gave myself a spell. I wrote a long letter and swore to who I was then that you were a good man, someone made for me. And I told her a spell to cast as you made love to her.” Adair glanced to the floor. “In the past, one night, you more than likely saw this place when we were together. It felt like a dream, but you didn’t care because…because you were taken by the moment. That night and this night…were merged.”

  “How—where has she been? How did she survive what Talley—what the evil did?”

  Adair pressed her lips together, not entirely sure how to explain this either. “I casted versions of myself, mirrors. The whole of me went into the Fold with Finley until little Dove came.” Adair’s voice cracked. “Then I had to come back completely. The version of who I was here was a ghost…I spent my days lurking through a life that knew something was absent and my nights dreaming of her and you. Only, I wasn’t dreaming of her, I was with her…with you.”

  “It’s over now,” he stepped up. “Adair, tell me it’s over.”

  She nodded shakily. “The curse is broken, and I made sure no one could control Talley but himself, and he will be in control of whatever dead rises after this point.”

  “You here?” he asked, reaching for her waist. “All of you?”

  “And then some,” Adair answered with a sigh, searching his expression. Normally she could read him so easily, but her emotions were a little erratic now.

  A grin spread across his face.

  Adair reached her hand to touch the smile as if it was wonder she’d never seen before. “You’re happy.”

  “No,” he corrected. “I’m in heaven.”

  She searched his eyes as he leaned in and softly took her lips, only daring to deepen the kiss just so.

  All at once, he heard a squeal and felt someone tugging at his jeans. He smiled as his kiss ended, then he carefully knelt down.

  His eyes searched the little one’s. Like her mother, she wasn’t easy to read, but he could see all her beauti
ful memories. The world she was in looked the same as this, like a stage waiting for its characters to emerge.

  The home Reveca had moved to the Boneyard, Evanthe’s, was the very home she had spent the first four years of her life, in a room that was ironically attached to the one Adair had claimed. Her best friend was a black and tan dog named Mystic, who apparently had done as Adair had—lived in two different worlds—when Mystic fell asleep in one life, she rose in another.

  Finley had been a constant guardian to her, filling her days with laughter and small adventures.

  “Little Dove,” he said smoothly. “Do you like that name?”

  “You gave it to me. I love it,” she answered, grinning like the princess she was.

  “Yeah, I did,” Judge said, glancing up at Adair. He could remember a wayward conversation they had years ago when she asked him if he wanted a family. “Little doves, you mean? Only if I have an army to protect them.”

  “Come here,” he said, reaching his arms out her, only to have her fly into them.

  He closed his eyes as his arms enfolded around her and breathed her scent in. Slowly he rose and reached for Adair.

  “Are you scared?” Adair whispered to him. When Dove laid her head on his shoulder and her eyes fluttered closed, fighting a yawn, Adair realized she had no idea what time it was, but she knew dawn could not be too far off by the magic fluttering by the dome.

  “I’m terrified,” Judge admitted as quietly as he could, but his deep voice made it nearly impossible.

  Adair’s grin was soft as she stared at the two of them in each other’s arms. It was a moment she would never forget.

  Her eyes moved over him. “Are you okay…with the other?” she asked as he almost naturally swayed Dove, and her eyes grew all the heavier.

  Judge reached up, the palm of his hand resting on her head then drifting down the long locks of her hair. It was blowing his mind how warm she felt in his arms, how delicate.

  “I was at peace before…you gave me the goodbye I always wanted.”

  Adair’s eyes watered.

  “They told me about her, about Dove…in their own way,” he said.