“Nylicia keeps us all on a ‘need-to-know-when-we-need-to-know’ basis. Yes, I asked her. No, I haven’t gotten any answers. ‘All will be known when it needs to be known and you should not worry yourself over it’.” Soleria pauses, looking up at me with a dry expression. “And she was floating, meditation-style when she said this, mind you. Unfortunately, that demon pixie isn’t solid, so I couldn’t choke the answers outta her. But my gut flared the moment I laid eyes on Izabella, and my gut’s never wrong. She’s seventeen and she desperately needs a job, too. I think she’s caring for her sick mom. It’s one of the reasons I hired her right away.”
My insides melt, and I’m tempted to lift my friend into a hug. I was sixteen and all alone when Soleria hired me two years ago. Ismini was seventeen and in the same situation a year ago when Sol offered her a job as well.
Soleria grew up with her mom, and had a pretty stable home, if you ignore the whole witchcraft running in the family thing. Which now makes sense, too. But even though she never knew the hardship of being on her own as a kid, Sol still can’t turn down anyone who needs help.
The door leading to the kitchen opens, and Ianthen walks out, holding a busboy tray.
“What’s up, Evesse?” Ianthen walks up to us and places the tray on the counter.
Soleria turns away from him, and begins wiping down the gleaming register.
Ian’s eyes—his disguised, light gray eyes—travel over Sol’s back, lingering a second too long on her ass, before focusing on me. He leans forward, speaking low so we won’t be heard.
“I already looked for him. I can’t find him. My powers aren’t . . . at full capacity right now.” I open my mouth to ask him what he means, but he glares at me and stops me. “No. Don’t ask. Not going there with you. Do you have any idea where Zen would have gone off to?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I commanded him to merge with Mavrak, and then he just disappeared.”
“What do you mean ‘commanded’?” Soleria asks over her shoulder, still playing wax-on-wax-off with the cash register.
“Nylicia gave me the powers of Justice.”
Soleria spins around, mouth wide open.
Ianthen curses under his breath.
“I knew I recognized what’s coming off you.” He runs a hand down his face, exhaling roughly. “Makes sense. Between your powers and the mating . . . well, if anyone would be able to control Mavrak, it’s you. Vedlyl told me about what happened in Zen’s room. How you ordered Zen to stop before he killed Ved, and that he listened.”
I pounce on that, desperate for some answers. Any answers. “What is inside of Vedlyl? Ianthen, what I saw—”
“I can’t tell you.” Ianthen looks over his shoulder as Izabella walks into the kitchen with a tray. “I really can’t tell you. We were all forced to swear to keep it to ourselves millennia ago. It’s not about wanting to keep the secret from you. I have no choice. Only Ved can tell you what he is.”
Sol shakes her head, nostrils flaring slightly on an exhale. “I really can’t believe you have the powers of Justice. You dude? I mean, you can be a self-righteous prick when it comes to your vibrator and the right to use it, but I’m not sure that constitutes as—”
I scowl at Soleria. “Fuck you. You’re no better. You threatened to burn down Walgreens when they ran out of the special batteries your vibrating butt plug uses.”
Soleria gasps.
Ianthen jerks and bumps into his busboy tray, almost dropping it. The plastic cracks right down the middle. It sounds like the counter beneath it does the same. His hands shake when he brings them up and rubs his face.
He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, a muffled groan rumbling behind his clenched lips. “Never getting that image out of my head.”
I smirk evilly. Good deed for the day . . .
Sol throws her rag at me, but I duck out of the way.
“Whoa,” she says suddenly, big eyes staring up at the ceiling. “One of my best friends is the Goddess of Flux. The other is now the Goddess of Justice. I’m a fucktastic breed never before heard of. I wonder which powers are coming to me?” She stares back at me, smiling wildly, any mention of arson, batteries, and butt plugs obviously forgotten. “We’re gonna be like the most badass Charlie’s Angels in history. You realize that?”
I’m sorely tempted to face palm myself.
Ianthen’s smile speaks volumes. Soleria’s too busy envisioning her future to catch it, but I do. The glow in his eyes is practically a neon sign, one that reads ENDEARMENT loud and freaking clear.
Alright. Time to leave these two lovebirds alone. “I think I’m just going to head out and wait for Zen. You guys call me if you hear anything.”
Ian drags his eyes away from Soleria. “Eve, you’ll be the first person he’s going to come to. It won’t be us.”
“Well, still. Like I said, I’m going to go and wait for him to hopefully reach out for me.”
Ian places his hand on the tray, willing it back to its previously unbroken condition. He sneaks a quick look at the kitchen doors, making sure no one is watching, then places his hand on the counter beneath the tray and fixes that, too.
“Good luck. Call me if you need me. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Winking at me, he picks up his tray, hitting me with that big smile of his. “I promised someone around here I’d make my ass useful.” He heads towards one of the tables that still has plates on it and begins loading them into the tray.
I wiggle my eyebrows at Sol.
She rolls her eyes.
“Oh, come on,” I motion towards him. “He’s a god and he’s helping you clear the tables. Surely you realize how epic and adorable that is.”
Soleria reaches for another rag and throws that one at my face, too. “Shut up.” Scowling, she walks around the counter, obviously on her way to help Ianthen out.
“You heard her.” Ianthen smiles down at Sol, wiggling his own eyebrows. “Epic and adorable.”
“Stop flirting with me, jackass. It isn’t getting you anywhere.”
Yeah, yeah, she can say that all she wants, but it’s obvious to anyone who knows her—AKA: me—that Sol is flustered. Ianthen can’t stop staring at her either, and the hungry look in his eyes is straight-up lewd.
In his mind, he’s fucking her seventeen different ways and he isn’t even bothering to disguise it.
I feel kind of dirty just witnessing that look. It’s like watching porn. Live. In person. “Stop eye-fucking my friend in front of me. I feel wrong.”
Ian smiles proudly behind Sol’s back before returning to his task.
I start laughing, then haul ass out of there before Soleria decides to really try to hurt me. I take a turn into the nearest alley, make sure it’s all clear, and dematerialize into my studio.
The inside of my place is still the same as I left it a week ago. Zen’s scent still lingers near my bed. Smelling it, I know I made the right choice in coming here.
If I can’t be with him while he’s going through whatever he’s going through . . . ah, fuck, that one hurts.
Just what the hell is he going through?
I fall onto the bed in a totally ungraceful heap and pull out my smartphone.
Zen’s phone has been out of reach for weeks. He disappeared shortly after he helped bring me back to life and apparently has kept his phone off most of the time. I know this because in one of my most pathetic moments, I made Dyletri give me Zen’s number.
And I tried reaching him the gods know how many times.
Staring at it now, I know that nothing has changed. Wherever Zen is, I doubt he has his phone on. That doesn’t stop me from trying.
He doesn’t have a voicemail message set up. When the generic, “You have reached the mailbox for . . .” starts, I’m tempted to end the call.
Last second, I decide not to, but it takes me at least two seconds after the beep to actually figure out what to say.
“I . . . I don’t know where you are. And I’m worried sick. So sick.
I’m so sorry that I did that. I . . . Zen, it felt like the right thing at the time. And I’m praying that it was.” I bite my lip as my eyes water and my tone grows unsteady. “I love you. I’m really scared for you right now. Please, please, call me back as soon as you can. I need to know you’re all right. I can’t feel you or where you are.”
There’s more I want to say, yet the damn time limit on the message stops me. I end the call, staring down at my phone. Nothing will distract me. I know that, so I don’t even try. I will off my clothes and climb butt-naked under the covers, wrapping them around me so I can catch every last molecule of Zen’s scent that’s left in them.
The lights go next, and then I’m in the dark, staring at my phone and praying, although I now know for a fact that no god or gods will answer my prayers. It doesn’t work that way. Doesn’t matter. I wish on that fucker like it’s a star instead of a phone, hitting the button on the side to keep the light on so I can look at the screen.
I have no clue how long I stay here, wishing. All night, I stare at the phone, until daylight pours in through the window.
That’s when my tears start up again.
No call. No sign.
I have no clue where the hell he is, but if I have to search every part of the planet, and every damned dimension for him, then that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
CHAPTER 37
– Enzyria
EVESSE
T he compound is being pounded by LMFAO when I walk in. Sexy and I Know It vibrates through the walls. Abruptly, the song changes and Psy’s Gentleman takes over.
I don’t even need to trace the origin of the music.
At least I know Cyake is home.
On the second floor landing, I turn, intending to head to his room.
A cough, a heave, and what sounds like a wet splat stops me in my tracks. I pause, turning and cocking my head to the side.
Another cough. More of that wet sound.
Then Ianythi’s voice reaches me. “Nylicia should be here soon. She said she’d have something to help you.”
Ianthen groans miserably. “I don’t—” He chokes then gags. “I don’t give a fuck. Just leave me like this.”
Nythi sighs. “No, you moron. You’ll die without help. And just because you fucked up, that doesn’t mean you get to be suicidal. Live with the consequences.”
Beyond curious, I pop into Ianthen’s room, bypassing the door leading in. I make my way through the sitting area—which resembles a combination of an arcade and a bar—and walk into the bedroom. Once there, I trace the wet, choked sounds to the bathroom.
Ian is throwing up.
Nostrils flaring, I take a single step back as my brain registers the smell of blood. A hell of a lot of it.
“I love you, brother. You know that right?” Ianythi asks in a soft voice.
“I love you, too,” Ianthen garbles out between his yakking.
“But,” Ianythi continues, a smile in her voice, “considering your track record, and the way you’ve treated females since you hit sexual maturity, and your stupidity last night, this is what I would call divine justice. What I’m saying is that I feel bad for you, but I don’t. Make sense?”
Nythi goes momentarily quiet as her brother tries to curse her out while retching.
“She was devastated Ianthen. She tried to hide it, but I saw it. She was furious and heartbroken.”
“And you fucking took her to that asshole!”
Nythi tsks. “One, she only kissed him. I was sure she was going to fuck him just to get back at you, but she couldn’t go through with it. Two, I had no idea at the time that you were mated and bonded to her. Obviously, you had just found this out yourself. I mean, come on, we found you with that nymph’s hand down your pants and her tongue in your mouth, dude.”
WHAT THE FUCK?
In a blaze of rising fury, I flash into the bathroom. I almost take the doorframe and wall with me as I grab onto it to stop myself from going further.
Ian is leaning over the sink. Blood covers every inch of white marble in front of him. A small puddle has accumulated on the floor. Even the mirror has been spattered with drops of red.
Nythi stands behind her blood-drenched twin, a delicate hand rubbing the space between his massive shoulders.
“What the hell did you do to Sol?” I lock my fingers, digging them further into the doorframe. I will not kill him. Not yet. He’s going to fucking give me answers first!
But no sooner than the question finishes leaving my mouth, my powers of Justice surge just enough for me to see what happened.
I’m assaulted by the image of Ianthen outside a house, a black-haired female practically climbing him. The female is almost cruel in the way that she kisses him, her head bobbing back and forth frantically.
Her hand jerked up and down inside his unbuttoned jeans.
Nythi appeared, her hand on Soleria’s arm.
Ianthen placed his hands on the female’s shoulders and pushed her back with a look of growing agony on his face.
But it was too late.
God. Oh God. The look on Sol’s face.
“I’m going to fucking kill you, you asshole!” I shake my head, willing the image to disappear out of my mind. It doesn’t matter that I’m not hearing the screech, or that the voice of Justice hasn’t begun to demand its due, yet. My rage is more than making up for the lack. “Why? Why would you do that to her? I barely saw you guys eight hours ago, and you looked like you were dying for her. I thought you fucking cared for her!”
“I do!” Ian wills the water on, rinsing a tremulous hand and running it across his mouth. When he meets my accusing stare in the mirror, I notice the gray tone his skin has taken on, and the dark, purple bags under his eyes. “I love her.”
I almost rip his lying tongue out of his mouth. The wall cracks as I pull on the doorframe to keep myself in place. “You have one hell of a way of showing it. Why would you go off with another female?”
Ianthen lowers his head, but not before I catch a flash of the misery playing out on his face. “After you left last night . . . we were hanging. Things got heated. I haven’t been with a female in almost two months. Since I met her. I was out of control, and my bonded symptoms were starting to show. I knew. I fucking knew she was the one, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. My body started calling for her and then she went crazy at the taste of my skin.” He pauses, shuddering so hard his entire frame moves.
Ianythi pulls her hand from her twin’s back and steps away from him, her expression saying it all.
There are some details best left unsaid.
Ianthen cups the back of his head and continues rambling, oblivious. “She went wild on me. How could I resist that? Fuck, she was delicious. Amazing . . . she was . . .”
“Brother stop.”
“Yes,” I agree. “Stop.”
He doesn’t even seem to hear us. “I knew it wasn’t going to work out, you know? She’s still human. So fucking fragile.”
“Did you hurt her?” I’m ready to kill him all over again.
“No. But it didn’t work out. She was so freaking tiny.” Ian bends closer to the sink, groaning repeatedly, shaking in agony.
Ah. Ah shit.
I squeeze my eyes shut, praying that the powers of Justice won’t show me that part.
My imagination steps in where my powers fail though, and I find myself bombarded with the visual of Ianthen trying to shove his godly prick inside still-human Soleria’s hoo-hah.
Oh, fuck.
“This is so wrong,” Nythi groans, scrubbing at her eyes with her hands.
“I was freaking on the verge of going rabid after we stopped. And I was scared, okay? Cyake prophesied that the woman I would fall in love with would come to destroy me. I never wanted to fall in love. Or bond. Or fucking mate.” He stops, almost falling into the sink as dry heaves wrack him.
“Is there a difference between mating and bonding?” I ask Nythi, my stomach sick from the fury.
<
br /> “Yeah. Hyrens bond. Gods and other immortals mate. Different symptoms, but just as bad. And he did both in the span of one night, whilst allowing another female to touch him.” Nythi shrugs, her long, navy-blue hair falling over her shoulders. “Accelerated symptoms.”
No wonder my powers aren’t demanding anything. Heck, it really is divine justice to see him like that, attacked by the raging symptoms of both a mating and bonding. “You fucking mor—”
“Evesse.”
Zen?!
For an instant, logic deserts me. I freeze, arms dropping to my sides. My ears pick up on the sound of approaching footsteps, but my brain is too shocked and hopeful to respond.
My nose greedily pulls in his scent, pumping a “hey-idiot-turn-around!” through my synapses. The world fades, and everything around me ceases to matter.
All but one thing.
“Evesse.”
I give an embarrassing little squeal, flipping around, my wide eyes searching out my mate.
Zeniel.
It’s my Zeniel. He’s here, storming towards me. His demon markings are writhing, his cheekbones are beautiful, and his blood-shot eyes are . . .
Blue and gray.
His eyes are blue and freaking gray.
“Z-Zen?”
He swoops down on me, his big arms lifting me off the floor.
Stunned, I stare blankly behind him as he presses his cheek to mine and rubs our faces together. The pleased groan he lets out shocks me out of it.
“Zen.”
“Baby.” He pulls back.
Blue and gray. I hadn’t been imagining it. The physical marks of his Erencei half are still visible, but his eyes are . . . no. It isn’t his war demon half any longer.
“You . . . you’re whole now, aren’t you?” I cup his face.
His eyes are red and swollen, but his irises remain the same dual color that reflects his powers of Tranquility. The nod he gives me is brief. His smile, however, isn’t, and once again I’m faced with that grateful look.
“Yes. Thank you.”
Zen was crying. I realize that just as I feel his residual pain hit me through our re-opened connection. The memories churn beneath his notice, painful but unheeded. He cups my head, putting us forehead to forehead and inhaling me. Eyes closed, he smiles and thanks me again.
Ryze Series: Books 1 & 2 Page 54