FALL (The Senses)

by Paterson, Cindy

  “No Waleron. I won’t.” She raised her voice in her mind.

  She heard him sigh and take a deep haggard breath as if it was painful to inhale. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Yes okay. We will find a way out together.”

  That’s it? Okay? He was agreeing with her?

  “Yes, I’m agreeing with you.”

  Letting him into her thoughts freely was an odd feeling. No lies. No hiding. She just hoped he wouldn’t either.

  “I won’t hide anymore, Delara. You will see every part of me.”

  She never thought that she could ever smile in a situation like this, but one emerged. It made her stronger. That was all she ever wanted. To finally see him for whom he’d become and love him just the same.

  “I can take him, Waleron.”

  Silence.

  “It’s that rope I can’t get around, but he hasn’t brought it here. He trusts that I’ll behave. I can take him.” She heard the denial in his head, the fear for her life, but she also felt the acceptance of who she was—a Senses. This is what she’d trained for. What he’d trained her for. Take all emotion out of it and she could defeat Tarek.

  “He brings a knife with him. He carries another on his belt and the tranquilizer gun.”

  “I know you’re capable, Delara. You are one of the best, I suspect.”

  “Not one. I am the best,” she teased.

  Silence.

  “Delara?” His voice was quiet and calm. Too calm.

  “Yes?”

  “When we get out of here…I can’t…I can’t survive you leaving me. Please…I can’t breathe any longer without you, but when you see what I’ve become…just don’t give up on me, baby.”

  “Oh God, Waleron.”

  Footsteps.

  She turned to face the door.

  “It’s him, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “I love you, baby.”

  The door swung open and Tarek walked in. He locked the door behind him.

  Chapter 21

  “Got it!” Galen shouted.

  Jedrik sighed with relief and he and Balen were the first ones out of their seats and hovering near Galen. He had his computer open with a picture of a rustic wooden three story house with lush vegetation surrounding it.

  Jedrik read the screen aloud, “An island one hundred meters off the South coast of Brazil. The area surrounding Ilha do Magalhaes is known as BaÃa dos Golfinhos—Dolphin’s Bay—Florianopolis.”

  “She bought it ten years ago,” Galen said. He clicked the mouse and took them to another page. “See here.” He clicked again and it brought up a bank account. “And here is the transaction.”

  “Brilliant,” Jedrik said, slapping Galen on the back. “Friggin’ kick ass hacker brother you have here Keir.”

  Keir’s brows rose as he sat with his seat belt tightened and his face looking green. Anstice held his hand, but her comfort offered little support for his obvious fear.

  “You know, it’s the safest way to travel,” Balen offered. “Just think…if we go down it will be pain free. Instant.”

  Keir glared and Balen and Jedrik laughed.

  Ryker paced the aisle of the plane, his long, agile legs easily covering the jet’s length in ten strides. Jedrik was uncertain whether it had been wise letting him come. It would be his first mission back since Hannah, but with Damien’s vanishing act and Kilter with Rayne, they had no choice. They had no idea what they were walking into.

  Xamien sat alone at the front of the plane. He never said a word, but he did have a book in his hand. Jedrik never saw a page turn in the ten hours of flight.

  ****

  Tarek had been thorough, leaving nothing in the room that could possibly be used for a weapon. There wasn’t even a light bulb to smash and slash across his throat or a chair to break a leg off of and plunge into his chest. The room consisted of a bed with one sheet and a nightstand with a book which she hadn’t bothered to look at. What did he think—she’d read?

  Her eyes watched him carefully, taking in where he had his weapons, looking for areas under his clothing where he could be hiding others. There was a slight bulge on the outer side of his boot on the left—a knife. The tranquilizer gun sat on his right hip with a blade next to it and he held her blade in his hand. She suspected he had throwing stars on him somewhere, but they were so small and flat that she’d never distinguish their location. Her best guess was they were within reach of his right hand. If it was her, she’d put them in the mid-thigh pocket of the army pants, or attached to her left wrist. Since he was wearing short sleeves that was ruled out.

  “Apologies for the interruption earlier. It seems that my supplies won’t arrive for another day or two.” Tarek walked into the room and shut the door. He stopped beside the bed and toyed with the edge of her blade watching her. “You aren’t a strong telepath and Waleron is drugged. I suspect he can’t reach anyone further than a stone’s throw. So, why do you look defiant? You know I don’t like that, Delara.” He nodded to the bed. “Lie down. Hands above your head.”

  If he tied her up she’d have no chance. She walked slowly to the bed.

  He nudged the bed with his knee when she hesitated. “Down.”

  Delara knelt on the bed, her mind working at warp speed. Could she take him with his weight on top of her? Waleron had taught her how to dislodge someone who had her pinned. They’d practiced thousands of times; a few times had led to something other than grappling. Delara lay flat on the mattress and calmly raised her hands above her head, linking them together.

  “Waleron is a danger to us.” Tarek kept her blade in his hand as he slid onto the bed, his legs on either side of her body, each palm holding his weight as he hovered over top. “I want us to be happy here, Delara. Like we used to be.”

  Like he used to be.

  He leaned his weight to the right so his empty hand could caress her cheek. The moment his fingers touched her skin, she reacted, slamming her fist into his throat at the same time she rammed her left knee into his hip, sending him off balance and to the side of her. She pushed out from underneath him, making a lunge for the knife in his hand.

  “Bitch!” he screamed when he was able to get his voice back. He threw his hand backwards. It hit her in the side of the head and she fell onto her butt.

  He scrambled to his knees at the same time as she, but now he held the tranquilizer gun in one hand and the knife in the other. He sneered. “I won’t kill you, but I will make Waleron suffer before I gut him.”

  Delara kept her calm, waiting for him to make his move. Never let words make you react. You win a fight without emotions. She took three deep breaths. On the third she saw his finger flicker and she dove to the left as the dart penetrated the wall behind her head.

  Without hesitation she powered into him, tackling him against the bed. The momentum sent them both to the floor. They rolled several times, her hands gripping the knife still in his grasp. Still partially drugged and weaker, she couldn’t get it from him.

  She let it go and pushed the heel of her hand up into his nose. He screeched then plunged the knife downward. Delara gasped as the blade sunk through her skin into her side. Her back arched in agony. She reached for the blade.

  Tarek yanked out the knife then shoved her aside. He was holding his nose in one hand and the knife, dirty with her blood, with the other as he climbed to his feet. She made a grab for him, pulling on his pant’s pocket, hearing it rip. Metal clanged to the floor.

  He reached for her as she dove for the dropped throwing stars. She felt the cold sharp metal in her grasp. She held one in her fist, the pointed blades sticking out between her fingers. She turned, diving for his neck.

  The throwing star sliced across his throat. Blood spurted in a thick spray, covering her and him within seconds. He stood immobile, mouth agape, squeezing at his throat. Warm red liquid seeped over his hands. The blood sprayed from the wound in the rhythmic beat of his heart pumping.

&n
bsp; It slowed.

  Then trickled.

  Her knife he held clattered to the floor and Tarek staggered backwards. “I…loved you—”

  “Yeah, well I didn’t asshole.”

  He dropped, blood pooling around him. With one last movement she saw him take his cell phone out of his pocket and smash it on the ceramic tiled floor.

  Delara staggered to her feet, reclaiming her knife with one hand while she kept pressure on her side with the other. Ripping a piece of the bed sheet, she tied it snug around her waist to cover the wound. She fell into the wall when she tried to walk. There was too much blood loss. She needed to get to Waleron before she passed out.

  She pulled on the door. Locked. She managed to get to Tarek’s body and dig through his pockets until she found a key chain.

  Her body was weakening. She shook her head, trying to clear the double vision as she swayed back and forth. It took her several tries to fit the key in the lock, but when it opened all she could think about was getting to Waleron.

  Using her telepathy would drain her; she needed every ounce of strength to make it to the basement. She gripped the handrail with both hands as she staggered down the stairs. If anyone else was here, they’d have thought a herd of elephants were coming at them.

  “Delara, you’re struggling to breathe. What’s wrong?” She couldn’t answer. She was fighting to stay alive long enough to reach him. “Talk to me. I need…Jesus I need to know you’re okay.”

  She fell down the last few steps into the basement and landed on her side. She screamed in pain, her hand coming away from her makeshift bandage soaked in blood.

  “Delara!”

  She heard his voice in her head, but also out loud. He was close. She was almost there. She crawled down the corridor, her heart palpitating, pumping out more blood from her wound. Her breathing became difficult and raspy. She recognized this coldness. She’d been dying like this before, lying in the ditch. The signs were all there.

  “Delara, damn it!” She heard chains rattling and his groans of frustration.

  She was at the basement door now. She put her hand up, grabbed the lever and with all her weight and pulled down. It clicked, but didn’t open. On her knees, she began inserting the keys until finally one of them fit and the door swung open.

  She fell forward landing on the palms of her hands.

  “Fuck!” Chains clanged together.

  She closed her eyes unable to lift the blackness that was descending. Waleron. She glanced up for one last look at his face. Her beloved. He stood with the manacles attached to his wrists and ankles. Chains wrapped around his arms as if he’d been trying to break them from the cement wall. Sweat trickled down his naked chest, blood pooled at his feet and yet…and yet he was the most spectacular vision she’d ever seen.

  She choked on a sob. The things she should have said to him. God, she’d fallen so far that only he could’ve picked her up and saved her. A love so broken it nearly tore them apart. All the hurt. But their love was for eternity. It had no ending, only a beginning.

  She heard him groan and she suspected he’d read her thoughts. She smiled as she laid her head on the cement. He knew. That was good. She wanted him to know she loved him.

  “We can fix us. We haven’t been torn apart, baby. I will fix us.” She heard his voice in her head and sighed. “Delara, I need you to get up now. A little further, okay? You can do this. I need you to do this.” It felt good—the coldness. Soothing. “Damn it Delara, you’re inside of me. I can’t get you out of me. I need you to live. I need you. Only you.” His voice hardened. “Get up baby. The button beside the lever. I need you to push it.”

  She pulled herself up.

  “That’s it.”

  She hesitated several seconds as her body refused to cooperate with her mind. Placing one hand in front of the other she dragged herself over to the wall. Then reached up for the red button. She pressed the heel of her hand to it then fell to the floor.

  Chapter 22

  Waleron picked her up in his arms and placed a kiss on her cold lifeless lips. Fear sat like a lead weight around his neck, drowning him. Knowing that the wound in her side was killing her... She was dying.

  Fear had never been a part of his existence since he’d started taking the pills. His emotions were dead, except on occasion when this woman rose them in him—desire and, yes, anger. Other than Delara, numbness was all he felt.

  Until now.

  Now he remembered what it was like to fear to lose something that had become so immersed with his every breath that he would suffocate without her. He understood the despair she’d felt so long ago when she’d thought he had died. He felt his abiding love for this woman, damn it. And the despair of losing it. God, he felt. Without the pills Zurina had been giving him all these years, he finally felt.

  He’d not lose her now. Not now that he’d give her all of himself. “Baby.” He stroked the side of her face. A drop of blood fell from his wrist and landed on her neck. He wiped it away then kissed the spot, lips trembling. “I can’t…I can’t endure this life without you.”

  He rocked her back and forth in his arms, a tear escaping the prison it had been locked in for years. It felt warm and thick as it slipped slowly down his cheek, then off his jaw to land on her lips. “Noooo!” He stared up at the ceiling as he screamed. If he could call to the Wraiths he would. Anything to save this woman he loved beyond reason.

  He gathered her in his arms and picked her up, a low growl escaping as his wounds broke open and he felt the fresh blood dripping down his back. He staggered a couple steps and nearly fell to his knees as his muscles gave out from weakness. He carried her close to his body, ignoring the agony as he climbed the stairs, each step ripping his skin apart further.

  He found the front door and carried her outside, laying her gently in the grass. He ran back inside and searched the house for anything that he could use to contact someone. He saw Tarek’s dead body lying on the floor in its own blood and then he saw the smashed cell phone. He closed his eyes, running a hand over top his head.

  Nothing.

  He ran back outside and fell to his knees before Delara. “Baby, hold on for me.” The warm breeze swept across them as he adjusted the makeshift pressure bandage on her wound. He tightened it as much as he could. There was no boat. No way off the island. His only chance was keeping her alive until the drugs wore off enough so he could Trace her to the Realm.

  He kept her head in his lap, stroking her face, the odd tear escaping as he was reminded of a time just like this. The same man had nearly been the death of her once before. But this time Waleron had no way to save her.

  His head jolted up. A low buzzing sound in the distance.

  A motor. A boat.

  Jesus. A boat.

  He looked up and saw it. The engine cut.

  “Waleron!” His Talde. They were running towards them.

  He buried his head in Delara’s hair, eyes filling with more tears as he pulled her up against his chest. A waterfall of relief poured over him.

  “Maitagarri,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her neck. He pulled her in tighter, his fingers locked in her hair, mouth against her cool skin. “Don’t give up on me. We found hope, baby.”

  Chapter 23

  Xamien had watched while Anstice healed Delara. Already her color was coming back, but Waleron still didn’t look so good. Anstice managed to heal him, but he suspected not completely. Probably enough so he could Trace. The guy had looked so tortured when Anstice was touching him that Xamien was surprised he lasted as long as he did.

  Xamien stood by the water, throwing shells into the waves. He kept one in his grasp, turning it over and over again as he watched Waleron on his knees beside Delara. She had yet to wake after the healing, but Anstice promised it would be soon. Waleron’s hand rested on Delara’s forehead, an expression of—sorrow mixed with worry.

  Something had changed in Waleron, there was the fear for Delara, yes, but it was more. The
man was showing emotions. The tilt of his head as he hovered over her, the distinct frown lines, the deep breaths. His usual stoic, cold expression had faded.

  A hand patted his shoulder. “Anstice says she’ll be fine.” Ryker bent over and picked up a shell and slipped it in his pocket. “Hannah had a collection of shells on a shelf in our bedroom. Every beach we visited, Hannah would take one.” Ryker stared off across the ocean, silent for a good minute. “That woman knew where each and every shell was from. Guess I’ll collect them for her now. She’d have wanted that.”

  Christ, Ryker had really adored that woman. In one second it had been destroyed. Xamien hadn’t known Hannah, but knew of her. He was told she was the type of woman to bring anyone into the fold of her arms, no questions asked. She put up with Kilter for years in the Talde house—that deserved a commendation.

  Xamien focused on Waleron and Delara. Two pieces of a puzzle finally put together.

  He tossed the shell into the wave. He’d been truthfully afraid after dreamstepping that he’d lost Delara to Tarek. They all had. Losing Delara to Waleron—that was expected. A long time coming really. Funny how it was Tarek who finally brought them back together.

  For Delara this had started with Waleron and would end with him. Deep in Xamien’s heart he’d known that all along. It still bloody well hurt.

  “She is where she was always meant to be,” Ryker said with a soft, sympathetic tone.

  Xamien nodded. “I know.”

  Delara’s eyes flickered and she bolted upright. Anstice and Waleron urged her to lie back down. She was confused, her plush lips parting, her eyes widening and then her lungs yanking in deep breaths. Xamien watched, an ache building in his soul as his Kitten met Waleron’s eyes. Waleron held her hand and brought it up to his lips; he kissed the back of it and she did this slight inhale with her face lighting up like the brightest stars in the sky.

  Waleron pushed her jagged strands of hair back behind her ears, letting his fingers linger on her skin. But all of it was nothing compared to Xamien watching the single tear slip down Delara’s face and Waleron gently wiping it away with the pad of his thumb. A heart-wrenching sob escaped her lungs and then she threw her arms around him. The emotion on Waleron’s face, Xamien would never forget. Waleron looked as if he had just been given the most precious gift in the world.