by Jamie Magee
Back then Lorecan, Saige’s lover, told Reveca she was premature. In his all-knowing way he told Reveca that in order for her to hold her lover for all of eternity she had to let him go that dawn. That if she didn’t she would destroy the Rapture that was due to come. Reveca fought them all that day, and lost. The life she had now began then.
“I can’t even remember the last time I dared to believe your promises.” Reveca had to pause so emotion would not be present in her tone. “You destroyed my happiness.”
“We have all sacrificed.”
“We? Oh you mean the fact that Lorecan left you? That the child he gave you was taken? I call that karma, not a sacrifice.”
Saige flushed with anger. “I will have them both again just as you will fulfill your fate and have your happiness.”
“My fate? What is my fate exactly? To do your dirty deeds so that when I need your spells you will sustain Talon once again, allow me that one comfort in this existence? Tell me sister, why did you make me let him go, only years later to allow me to raise Talon? One that you and all of the Dominarum Coven, including GranDee, told me was not made of my soul. What did I do to deserve this?”
“If you don’t know your fate I surely can’t tell you.” Saige stepped forward. “When you have a choice sister, that is when you know what you really want. Very soon, you will have a choice.”
Soon. That word meant nothing to Reveca. Soon was a tomorrow that never came, a promise that was said to her a million times over.
Reveca stepped forward, the emotions of her night catching up with her. “I can’t remember what he looks like, sister. You robbed me. Every wrong deed I have ever done, every soul I have brought back, my mutations…you caused that. I’m not shifting the blame. It’s cause and effect. You placed me here, and I had no choice but to build a life.” Reveca lifted her chin. “There’s no fucking Rapture to be had.”
Saige gave no expression during Reveca’s rant. She’d heard it before. “I told you then, the bliss that awaits you will outweigh the pain.”
“Bull. Shit.”
“Reveca, you know there is truth in my words. I asked you to bring this soul out of death for a reason.”
“But you will not tell me the reason, and whomever they are, they will not know either, because you only know how to work behind the curtain. You only know how to manipulate.”
“This soul, if destroyed, as Crass surely will do to him, the emotion of exaltation will be as well. You know what that means, sister.”
She did. All spells needed that emotion, that rush. To hear her sister talk you would think that she was asking Reveca to barter to bring a God back to life.
“Saige, you have lost your damn mind. You and your sleeping Gods.”
“Crass is aware of the deal we want to make. This soul you are bringing him is one that attempted to capture Crass long ago. He’s very eager to have him in his care, enough to consider a trade. Make this barter, Reveca, before the next moon sets. Or everything you have will crumble before your eyes.” And with that Saige vanished.
“Bitch,” Reveca breathed.
Chapter Four
The slow walk out of that church, the drive home, the hours that Reveca and Talon spent alone mulling over this hell was all a blur to her. Reveca was tired. Sick and tired of this game of life.
Right now, the Club had a turncoat imprisoned, a looming murder investigation, and a barter that had to be made. And apparently, as a whole, the Club had let one of the Rogues slip through their fingers, take a human life. Even though it was a worthless life, that karma was on Reveca.
Reveca told Talon that the barter had to be made in order for them to stop the Rogues. That very well could be true if Reveca dared to trust her sister’s words. The undeniable truth was that if Reveca didn’t complete this barter, in just over a hundred years Talon would be at risk. That sounds like a lifetime, but it’s not to those who have immortality. It’s far too short.
Church. That is what was needed now. They had to plan.
Reveca was the last to walk into the room. The other Sons that were in the life were already assembled. The table was shaped like a pentacle with a snake wrapped around its edges. Talon sat at the head of the snake. His chair was made of the iron wings of a crow. Thrash was at his side, the Club’s VP. The others that were present in New Orleans now, Echo, Shade, Judge, Thames, Knight, Steele, and Cashton were all seated as well.
Reveca never sat at these meetings. She paced. She loomed in the background, and when she spoke she meant every word she said.
“The murder is easy. We frame Holden for it,” Thames said as he leaned back in his chair and reached to scratch his short dark beard. His hazel eyes were glowing just then. No doubt he was thinking of exactly how he could push thoughts into Holden’s mind, make him confess to this crime.
That was an easy out for Holden that Reveca didn’t want to give him. Going to jail would be a paradise compared to what she wanted him to endure. She was willing to wait for her turn, though, had no choice really. The lawmen would still look into the Club because Holden had been with them for so long, but if they had a confession they could only go so far with that hunt.
“GranDee’s family reported the house fire. It’s all over the news. Investigators are on the site. It’s going to be days before we can get to the passage that leads into the Edge, much less the Veil,” Echo said evenly.
Though Reveca ruled the Edge, she needed power to manifest in corporeal form there, power that she was inadvertently fasting from. Besides, none of the Sons liked for her to go there alone. The gate was a way for them all to appear as a unified team. Flesh was an envied armor among the dead.
GranDee’s home, her land, it was rich with generations of practicing spiritual souls. Some even say the ground bleeds. On that land, and the waters around it, there was the gate that Reveca, along with the others used to reach the Edge, at times the Veil.
In truth, they could reach either of those places with deep meditation, like Reveca did when she brought that girl back, but to barter—to come face to face with a Lord of death, you wanted to be in corporeal form. For good reason, a Lord of death could steal your soul with a thought, but if it was within a vessel, he could not touch you, not unless you allowed him to. Corporeal form was their only way to go.
“Who is that girl?” Shade asked so quietly that his voice barely registered.
“We don’t know,” Talon said in the deep authoritative tone he was known to have. “All signs during the chaos of GranDee’s death stated that she wanted that girl to live. If we find that to be false, we’ll destroy her.”
Shade’s head jerked in Talon’s direction in clear protest, but he never said a word.
Talon leaned forward in his chair. “We’ve unearthed something here. In the past our paranormal and non-paranormal wars were held separately. Now we discover this man that was murdered had managed to persuade lawmen that we were dealing drugs that caused mutations. Or so Holden said. We know that Newberry was toying with powers that he had no business touching. Our wars are merging it would seem.”
That was unnerving for several reasons. One of the Sons’ less than lawful acts was dealing scripts. No, they didn’t sell pills so people could catch a high or enhance their boring lives. They dealt drugs people needed to live, ones that people could not afford but needed. So far they had yet to face charges, or even be linked to that act, but this right here—that could open up a whole new hell. The lawmen were so desperate that they would listen to some half crazed man that told them the Club was dealing some drug that was causing people to be enhanced, more powerful, paranormal.
Saige said that Newberry had tried to summons or trap Crass before, which meant he had a book of shadows in his care. It also meant he had the knowledge to summon Rogues—far less powerful souls—to him as well. All the Club could assume was one of the souls that Newberry summoned killed him. More than likely used their energy like a vice until every bone shattered.
“Their source died, though,” Thames said.
“I was told he had followers,” Reveca said as she paced behind Talon. “With the knowledge they have there is no telling what they can do. There is no doubt their aim is to gain power.”
“And any fool can Google some wacked out spell,” Thames said to push his point. “Surely his followers, if he does have them, would realize that they were playing with fire.”
“Or be encouraged by that,” Shade said.
“We don’t have time for this,” Reveca said coming to a stop behind Talon. “This barter has to be made before the next moon sets. The aftershock of any mess this murder has caused, his followers, we’ll deal with them as they come.” Her stare moved to Cashton. “Have you heard of a soul called King? Do you know why Crass has him in the first place?”
Cashton leaned back in his chair, stared forward for a moment, the blue flames in his eyes nearly glowing in the dim room. “Crass is a nasty Lord. His taste in souls runs to the lowest of the low, the ones that have no tact, gross even. The pure scum. If he has this soul, he sees value within the bloke, but at the same time he’s loyal to no one. As far as I can remember, I’ve never heard of a King. That might help or hinder us. It could mean he hasn’t been there long, but it could also mean he’s a secret worth keeping, if you know what I mean.”
Reveca was betting it was the latter; otherwise her sister wouldn’t have interest in him. It was shocking in and of itself that Saige had any clue as to what Crass had in his possession. She made it a point not to get her hands dirty and this Lord was the definition of filth.
“Who the hell are we bringing back?” Shade said lifting his brow over his glasses. “His ass is not bunking with me.”
“King is all I know,” Reveca admitted. “He’s not to be altered, but harbored here. He will be seen as human to the living along the grounds of the Boneyard.”
“Will he return as I do?” Cashton asked.
Reveca looked down. This entire deal infuriated her. She liked Cashton. She believed him when he said that he’d never died, that he was imprisoned. This King guy, she didn’t know anything about him beyond that he was owned by a disgusting Lord. If anyone deserved this deal King was getting, it was Cashton. That much Reveca was sure of.
Cashton cleared his throat. “Well, I can tell you that Crass now resides against the Veil. Some call him the gate keeper. I don’t know how all of you are going to get that deep in corporeal form. If you want to add weight to the barter, bring smokes and liquor. He can’t consume it but he loves to try.”
“They’re not,” Reveca said.
Talon looked up at her in question. “The Veil and the Edge meet. I’m the Edge. I can go, Cashton can go, the rest of you, you’re going to have to cover us.”
“You’re not facing this asshole alone,” Talon bit out.
“Cashton will be there.”
Cashton gave one nod. One thing that boy lacked was fear. Reveca had always wondered if that lacking emotion landed him in the hell he was in now.
“We ride out,” Reveca said. “This Club, every chapter near here, we ride to GranDee’s. We circle the home, have a vigil of sorts. In that chaos, I’ll go through the passage,” she nodded to Thames. “You will set Holden up for his confession. You’ll have him walk right up to the investigators on the scene and turn himself in.” She glanced at Echo. “Right now, you’re going to change your image, go the police station. Tell them you witnessed Holden leaving that man’s house, tell them you heard the fight beforehand.”
The room was still. They may have found a fast fix for the problems at hand, but not knowing who they were bringing back, not knowing what hell this human had caused, that was weighing on them all.
“When the sun sets, we ride out,” Talon said adjourning the meeting.
Reveca locked eyes with Cashton as he stood to leave. She had a million questions for him, but before she could ask him to stay, Talon pulled her onto his lap, told Echo to close the door as they left.
“You trust your sister?” Talon asked in a whisper.
“No.”
Talon slowly moved his hand up her thigh. “What are you not telling me? Why did you agree to this?”
Reveca couldn’t lie to him, feared the karma behind that, so instead she let her eyes fill with hunger, leaned forward and brushed her lips along his cheekbone. “Maybe I was in a hurry to get home.”
“That a fact,” he said with a sinful smile as he pulled her lips to his.
The very next second Reveca found herself laying across the table, Talon above her, a sexy little smile dangling on his lips. “You’re trying to distract me.”
Reveca slid her hands down his shoulders, his chest, found his belt. “Is it working?”
Apparently it was. His lips molded to hers, his hands were ravenous, energy was coursing between the pair of them as raw passion was rebirthed. Her mind, her heart, it wasn’t there, but her body was, and it was inhaling all the energy he was giving her.
***
Twice before they mounted their bikes she tried to speak with Cashton but someone was always looming too close.
“You ready to say goodbye?” Talon asked just before she climbed on the back of his bike.
“I’m never ready to say goodbye to anyone.” And that was the truth.
Talon leaned up, let his lips brush across hers. “We’ll make it all right. Holden’s going to get his. He’ll take this rap, then when he least expects it, you’ll have your revenge.”
Reveca nodded once as she climbed on behind him.
The site of that many bikes, being tailed by one large van, moving at a slow crawl down the highway was humbling. The kind of scene that filled you with pride, loyalty, and authority.
Even though Reveca was preparing for the barter, she let her thoughts linger with GranDee, her memory, wondered what she would think of this display. What she would think of Reveca bending to her sister’s will once more.
On the scene there were investigators. More came after the Sons arrived. They had an excuse to linger near now—too many possible outlaws in one place.
Bikes layered thirty deep circled the rubble that was left. The choir that was at the church the night before, they were there too, praising. Reverend Bradshaw, he was there, preaching. Those from the coven that Reveca’s sister was a part of were present and accounted for. There were a thousand people on one patch of land that was surrounded by swamp. The perfect cover.
Reveca never even bothered to look in the direction of the tree where she had stored Holden. She sensed Thames and Judge moving in that direction. Judge was going to try and see if he could salvage any details from his memories, but Reveca knew it was a lost cause.
Echo had done his part with this set up earlier that day. All of that was the easy part.
This right here, wasn’t.
Reveca squeezed Talon’s hand once, then started to make her way through the crowd. She was deep in her mind, focusing on her Edge. She knew exactly where Newberry’s soul was, had others holding him for her, waiting for her to arrive.
As she reached the choir she felt their hands fall over her, heard the wail of cries mourning the loss of GranDee and those that fell with her.
They had made a path for her, one that concealed the passage she needed. No one could see Cashton at her side, but she felt him there, felt his hand on the small of her back as they walked.
This passage was nothing more than a wave of energy, a sliver of light that most could not see. Reveca and Cashton both let that wave of energy pass over them and had taken steps within before Reveca spoke.
The Edge, like the Veil, for the most part looks like reality. That’s why it takes souls so long to discover they’re dead. It’s easier for them to believe they’re insane when they see the differences, when the impossible seems possible.
The swamp, that was the path they had to take to get to Crass.
By the bank, a few of her followers were there. They handed her a black box, wra
pped in leaves. This was the murdered man. They had trapped him, condensed him. Reveca knew his day was only going to get worse from this point. Served him right for meddling with lives and arts he had no business knowing about.
Once on board the boat, Cashton began to row.
“When you leave the compound, on your ten day spread with the living, do you see my sister?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure of a conference,” Cashton said as he gave Reveca a lazy wink.
“Why did she want you out, Cashton?”
“I’ve told you before, I don’t know.”
“Why did you want out?”
He glanced down. They’d had this conversation as well.
“A girl,” Reveca said. “You go through this hell of transition from one realm to another for a girl.”
“The girl.”
“The girl that is also the reason that you landed in death by mere accident.”
One nod.
“And do you see this girl when you leave the compound?”
“I have before.”
“So, I bartered you a way out of the death for brief stays, for a girl, and you may or may not meet her for a cup of coffee.”
“It’s complicated.”
“How so?”
He bit his lip before he spoke. “She’s healing from hells she’s lived through.”
There was jealously in his words. To most it would be hard to recognize, but jealousy was a language Reveca spoke well. She was downright possessive of what belonged to her.
“You love her and she has no idea what you’ve done to be with her.”
Cashton shrugged. “I’m no angel, Reveca. I knew she was there, that she would be mine one day. I still let my mind and flesh wander. This pain is my karma, a due I have to pay to get what I should’ve never lost sight of.”
Reveca felt her gut twist. The story was too close to hers.
“It’s the nature of the soul to find comfort. If your absence from her was great, you did nothing wrong but seek that comfort.”