Cheri looked down at her toes for a long moment, and Max wondered what she was thinking. She’d stepped outside of their private mental space. He didn’t worry about that. She might be the one among them with the most experience with magic. But he and Tony knew the people in this world. Warlock or thug, apparently there was little difference.
When she met his gaze, he knew where she’d gone. She’d snuck into the minds of the Fortuna twins. And he knew in his gut what she was going to say before the words echoed in his thoughts.
They’re pissed that you caught them and pushed back. They’re coming.
They’d all felt certain the Fortunas would wait until dark, until the decks were literally clear.
“Fuck. This could be a disaster.”
Cheri looked from Max to Tony. “We can’t let them cut loose in broad daylight. We have to protect these people.”
“We have to stop them. If we don’t, it means more than our own lives.” He sat up and leaned forward. “We haven’t spoken of the prophecy and our alleged role in it, I know that. We’ve both put it off. But I know something, here and now, that is probably the truest thing I’ve ever known. Vincent and Emilio Fortuna must be stopped, permanently. Even if it means Tony and I die in the process. No other outcome is acceptable.”
“I can’t lose you, either one of you. Not now that I’ve finally found you.”
“Baby, this isn’t our first lifetime together. And I promise you, it’s not going to be our last.”
“Max is right. We don’t have a choice.”
Then the time for talking was over. The sky darkened, and a bolt of lightning seemed to split the sky. With the echo of the thunder over the open sea, Vincent and Emilio Fortuna materialized five feet away from them.
Amid the screams of the passengers surrounding them, Vincent threw out a hand and then raised his arm. A woman screamed in absolute terror. Fortuna had ripped her son from her arms and held him ten feet above the deck.
Chapter 15
She’d never imagined going up against so powerful a force. Time for thinking, for planning and debating was over. The brothers appeared, malice pouring out of them, their eyes a cold, unnatural black as their gazes swept the passengers.
Then Vincent lashed out, dangling a child high above the deck. Cheri practically leapt from her chair. “Teuri Innocentium!” Protect the innocent. The ancient words rolled, not off her tongue but through her mind, echoing in a voice not only hers but…other. The power that left her at her command also held her in place, but just for a moment.
Time stopped. No one on the deck—no one ungifted—moved. They looked frozen, beyond breath, beyond life, even, somehow, beyond death.
Beyond the magic that could harm them.
“You cannot protect them all.” Emilio addressed the men, as if Cheri wasn’t there, as if she didn’t even exist.
They thought she was one of the innocents, frozen and protected.
“And when we kill you, they will cease to exist as well.”
“When you die, your power dies. And they all will die. Now.”
Vincent and Emilio moved at the same time and began hurling shards of power at the same time. A flash of understanding showed her—showed them all—something very important.
The brothers worked at the same time but not together. Their power didn’t meld, and there was a wall, faint but there, between them.
Then a volley of lightning-shaped shards exploded from their hands, the shards razor thin and numbering in the hundreds.
Max and Tony threw up shields, but not quite fast enough to catch them all. A couple of the shards found their marks, spearing their arms like needles. Both men winced, but neither man made a sound. They focused instead on their objective, returning the bulk of the enemy’s energy back to them.
The burst of power jolted the brothers, and tiny rivulets of blood ran down their arms. Anger rolled off the Warlocks, and they used both hands to direct the knives that materialized before them. Max and Tony stepped apart, their attention focused, each of them, on one opponent.
The ocean began to churn as if they were in a storm, moving the vessel, making it difficult to keep their footing. Cheri’s men stumbled before they realized they could suspend themselves above the heaving surface beneath them—as the Fortunas were doing.
Taking full advantage of the distraction, Vincent gave an evil grin and then sent a shaft of power, a white-hot arrow, toward Cheri. “We’ll see how well your spell protects your whore.”
Emilio had sent another volley of razor-like spikes of power toward both men. Cheri felt their panic, felt their need to protect her. There was little time for her to react. She had a choice—face the threat or reassure her men.
She moved, held out her hand, and intercepted Vincent’s flaming arrow. Then she twirled it over her head as if it was a flaming baton and she a world champion majorette.
“You dropped this, Vincente.” Then she sent it high overhead, turning it once more, and used her power to race the arrow straight for Vincent’s heart.
His brother shoved him, and the arrow hit the deck, just missing both men.
“Enough! By all that’s holy, you snakes are done!” Max’s voice boomed out of him, more fierce, more…powerful than she’d ever imagined it could be.
Max and Tony stepped closer to each other, thrust out their hands, and, melding their power, sent a wave of furious force toward the brothers. That wave lifted them and shoved them out, out, until they were dangling just above the sea. And then, with a lightning strike and a whoosh, the Fortunas turned into sea snakes.
A large shark, one shimmering with iridescent power, broke the surface of the water, rose high, and swallowed them both in one sure chomp.
Cheri’s mouth dropped open, shock echoing through every pore.
“What? What the hell?” Max looked at Tony and then her.
The men’s faces revealed their own shock. The sound of a pop, like a bubble bursting, echoed. The sea calmed, and time resumed. The sound of a woman’s scream jerked them around to the sight of that small child, released from suspension, flying through the air toward the water.
Cheri leapt up and, with the help of her magic, snagged the little boy from midair.
The frantic mother rushed over to where Cheri had fallen to the deck, the young boy enfolded safely within her arms.
“Oh, my God. Thank you! Thank you! You saved my Timmy!” She fell to her knees and gathered the crying boy into her arms as she herself cried and rocked him.
“That wind, it was like a mini tornado, it just came out of nowhere and wrenched Timothy right out of my arms! How could that even happen?”
“Pamela! Timmy!” A man’s voice, alarmed, underlined the sound of running steps. Cheri looked up just as a tall, dark-haired man pushed through the crowd and squatted to gather his family close.
“Where’s April?” The still frantic mother looked up at her husband.
“She’s fine. She’s with Twyla and Nicholas in the restaurant. What the hell happened?”
More feet came running. Cheri looked up, surprised to see the ship’s captain approach.
“Mr. Pierce! What happened? Is everyone all right?”
Mr. Pierce exhaled and answered the captain, even as his eyes stayed on his wife. “I think so, Kevin. Sweetheart? I didn’t see what happened. Can you tell us?”
It took a few minutes for Timmy’s mother—Pamela Pierce—to tell her husband what had happened. Cheri kept quiet, letting the woman tell the story from her perspective, more than a little amazed at what she was hearing.
Pamela Pierce had seen a waterspout—a small one—form just off the port side. It had then come toward the ship and torn her son, Timothy, from her arms. She was less coherent when it came to describing Cheri’s actions, easily explainable by the fact that she was in a kind of shock.
Mr. Pierce and the captain helped Pamela to her feet. The frantic mother wasn’t about to let go of her boy anytime soon. Max and Tony helped Ch
eri up, too. They fussed over her, making sure she was all right and that her fall to the deck hadn’t hurt her.
Pamela had finished her explanation, and all three adults—the Pierces and Captain Kevin Garner—were eyeing her with admiration.
“I was just lucky,” Cheri said quietly. “I saw the little guy and just jumped for him.”
“Cheri is a grade school teacher,” Max said. “She’s always one to notice the children before she even sees the adults.”
“I’m very grateful that’s the case. I’m Dylan Pierce, and this is my wife, Pamela, and our son, Timothy.”
The men shook hands, and Tony performed the introductions.
“Which cabin are you folks in, Dr. Tanner?”
Cheri looked at Max. She’d recovered some from the last few minutes and easily slipped into mind-space. What an odd question.
Maybe he wants to send us a bottle of wine. Max gave the man their cabin numbers. Dylan smiled and then turned Captain Garner. “See to it all their things are moved into the royal suite.” Then he turned to them. “I see your confusion. Perhaps I should have added my title to my introduction. I’m the president and CEO of Carstairs Holdings.”
The captain laughed. “He owns the ship.”
“That’s not necessary, Mr. Pierce. I’m just glad that Timmy’s all right.”
“I’m going to have to insist, Ms. Ambrose. Nothing on this earth, or beyond, is more important to me than my family.”
Cheri opened her mouth to protest again. Hush. Max’s one word held her silent.
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Pierce.” Then he looked down at Cheri. “Darling, it seems we’ve received an upgrade.” Max grinned. He slipped his arm around her and drew her in close.
“Then I guess I should say thank you.” Cheri gave the best smile she could. She really wanted to be alone with her men—and not just to make love with them. They all needed some quiet time to assess what had happened to the Fortuna brothers.
The transformation into sea snakes—that had been the result of the combination of Max and Tony’s power. Looking at them now, she could see that power within them, nearly as strong as any back home. She wanted to make sure that these two men who’d dedicated their lives to saving lives were okay with what their power had just done.
And she wanted to talk about the shark—because that hadn’t been them. It hadn’t been any of them. She hadn’t recognized the power signature involved.
And that worried her, more than just a little.
* * * *
In his penthouse apartment in downtown Chicago, Roman Fortuna stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, his gaze fixed very far away. Pain lanced his heart.
Vincent and Emilio were dead.
They’d been his brothers, and despite the years and the lack of familial emotion between them, he’d loved them. Roman had held out hope that they’d turn away from their intent. They’d known, before their final confrontation with the Gifted ones on the Eugenia, that they couldn’t change what was to be.
Cheri Ambrose doesn’t have it quite right. Some destinies really are written in stone.
His brothers had been gifted with incredible power, theirs to do with as they chose. And they’d chosen to destroy, instead of build up. Roman shook his head. They’d sealed their fate when they’d tried to lash out at the innocents on the ship.
He couldn’t let any more innocents die because of his family’s greed.
Maybe, someday, he’d get to meet Cheri Ambrose in person. Her power was strong but, more, it was pure. Her words, the old words, had leapt from her mind at the same time they had leapt from his.
He hoped the new triad didn’t suffer too much over the fate of his brothers. Tanner and Delvecchio had done their best to dissuade the two. They’d given Vincent and Emilio more chances than the pair had ever given anyone else.
More chances, in truth, than they’d deserved.
He couldn’t tell his father what had happened to the elder twins. Not yet. As far as the head of the Fortuna family was concerned, Roman was the powerless youngest son. He would have to wait and show appropriate emotion when he was summoned and then informed of the family’s loss.
Roman inhaled deeply and then turned from the window. It was only midafternoon, but he thought it apt to have a drink—just one.
He poured a half glass of scotch and held it up, a silent toast to fate. Then he downed the drink in one swallow and set the glass back on the tray.
No, he couldn’t tell his father, or his brothers, that they were now fewer. Would he lobby for restraint should Gregor decide to send Mario and Pietro on a similar mission?
Could your words dissuade him from his chosen path?
Roman closed his eyes and acknowledged the point. No. That which had been forming for decades was now coming to fruition, and all Roman could do was stand back and watch everything happen.
You will do much more than just watch, as you have already shown. Condolences on a difficult decision, my son, and on your loss.
Roman tilted his head in acknowledgement, felt the air move, and knew he was alone once more.
The scotch hadn’t helped. Maybe he’d go work out in his private gym. It had been a long few days with little physical activity. He needed the stress on his muscles, and the sweat, and the time alone to deal with one more salient fact he couldn’t tell his father, or anyone, for that matter.
He’d used his own power to vanquish evil, to take lives. It had been necessary, but it had still hurt his heart to do so.
And that, Roman knew, was exactly as it should be.
* * * *
It’s been one hell of a day.
Max sighed and let that thought go as the three of them stepped into the royal suite aboard the Eugenia and closed the door behind them.
There’d been no way they could have begged off dinner with the Pierces and their friends, the Coultrains. As the conversation had gone from words of praise for Cheri—words she modestly acknowledged before turning the conversation—Max had contented himself to sit back, to listen, and to see—really see—this woman who’d come so decisively into his life.
He’d held off committing to her, to them—hell to destiny—with his whole heart. He’d resented the hell out of having decisions ordained for him.
The events of the day and, strangely, the dinner talk had finally succeeded in pulling his head out of his ass.
“Are you all right?” Cheri came up to him, and damn him for the fool he was, he saw the hesitancy in her eyes.
“I am now.” He reached for her, reached, finally, for what he wanted. He folded his woman into his arms, holding her tight, and gave thanks when she held him with enthusiasm.
“It’s about damn time.” Tony came over and pressed himself against Cher’s back. Then he clasped the top of Max’s right arm with his left hand. They’d been best friends since they’d met, but in reality, they were more. They were brothers.
Because Max had finally chosen, the truth became open to him. They’d been born brothers millennia ago, twins whose spirits had bonded fast and sure and for all eternity. And here, now, with their woman between them—Cheri had always been their woman—they were once more united. Whole. They’d pledged to live and to love life after life until they came to this moment in time.
Mating.
Cheri lifted her head. “You’ve decided. I…I was afraid to hope that you would.”
“I was being a fool. Worrying about some unseen being directing my steps, ordering my life, when it really was always my choice. Stay or go, and no matter what choice I made, the outcome for each was set. As it is for any human being who lives on this planet. Left turn or right turn, each path has its own predestined outcome.”
Cheri grinned. “Sort of like a real-life application of the scientific if/then principle.”
“Exactly. But it’s more than that. The moment I decided that my future was with the two of you, fulfilling our part of The Prophecy, I understood.” He lifted Cheri�
�s face and met her gaze. He could feel the love in her for him and for Tony. It radiated out of her like pure sunshine. “This isn’t our first lifetime together.”
“You promised me forever. And you’ve always kept your promises.”
Max bent and laid his lips on hers, a sweet, gentle caress. Then words, words as old as time, emerged from his heart, and he spoke them eagerly, solemnly, reverently. “You are my mate—for life, for love, forever. No other heart shall beat with mine. Cheri Ambrose, I claim you.”
Tony turned Cheri so that she faced him. “You are my mate—for life, for love, forever. No other soul shall dwell with mine. Cheri Ambrose, I claim you.”
Max didn’t worry about the tears gently streaming down his woman’s face. He knew they were good tears, cleansing away what was, welcoming in what would be, from this day forward.
“You are my mates—for life, for love, forever. You are the beating of my heart, the pulsing of my soul, and no others will my eyes ever see. Maxwell Tanner, Anthony Delvecchio, I accept your claims and acknowledge you both as my husbands, my mates. No other heart, no other soul, shall twine with mine.” Then she stepped back, and Max knew it was to allow him and Tony their moment.
“We are brothers, united, together.” Max’s words echoed with traditions he didn’t completely recall.
Tony completed the pledge. “We will remain brothers and become husbands and fathers united, together.”
Max clasped Tony’s shoulders, even as he felt his own clasped. This was right. This was exactly the way it should be, and Maxwell Tanner, for the first time in his life, felt whole.
“Come, wife. It’s time for us to complete the ritual. It’s time for us to become one heart, one soul, one flesh.”
“Yes, please.”
Max brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. And then, together, he and Tony led her to the bed.
Chapter 16
She hadn’t remembered their past love, not completely, not until the moment Max accepted destiny’s challenge with his whole heart.
The Gifted 1: Passions Awakening (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 14