by Nashoda Rose
“That’s what brothers do. Jasper’s waiting for you.” Damien came to his feet. “Bike’s in the garage. It’s a Ducati—be nice to it. Oh, and Jasper kills for fun, so don’t piss him off.”
I had to keep Zurina talking. Eventually a Wraith would feel the tension in the air and Edan had to hear me. “Zurina, nothing can distract Waleron. He lives for the Scars.”
Zurina’s voice rose and her lip curled. “He lives for his oath to you.”
“What oath?”
“To protect you above all else for as long as he walks this Earth.” Zurina tsked, shaking her head. “I like you, Delara, always have. You had guts coming to the Realm and speaking in front of the Deaconry for Balen’s freedom. Using Edan like you did. But my oath to Waleron’s mother is more important than you, as is Waleron’s oath to the Goddess and his mother.”
“So you’re going to kill me? Is that your solution?”
“No, Delara. Of course not. That would be breaking my oath as a Healer. No, I’ll leave that to Tarek.” My heart slammed into my chest. “I’m merely delivering him a… package.”
I straightened my shoulders. “Waleron will find you.” There was no way Zurina would get away with this.
She laughed. “Of course he will. I don’t pretend to think he will let me live either. My sacrifice is a necessity.” Zurina’s stance went rigid and her fingernails dug into my wrist. “What have you done?” She slid her hand under her shirt at the waist. “Stupid. Stupid girl.”
Zurina pulled out a gun and pressed it into my side. I reacted at the same time that Edan appeared. I shoved my elbow into her chest as hard as I could, but Zurina’s grip held. We both fell to the ground as I struggled against her hold.
Zurina’s fingernails ripped at my skin, blood dripping from my wrist.
“Delara?” Edan shouted, running toward us.
Zurina’s arm rose and she pointed the gun at Edan’s head.
“No!” I screamed, and punched Zurina in the side.
The gun went off, the piercing sound echoing in the Realm.
“Nooo.” I kicked Zurina in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her and releasing her grip on me.
“Delara….”
Edan’s tall, lithe form crashed to the ground and I frantically searched for blood on his body, but there wasn’t any. “Edan.” I scrambled toward him, hands running over his body. Then I saw the dart protruding out of his thigh.
No bullets. It was a tranquilizer gun.
“Delara, I can’t… reach….” Edan fell limp.
“He’ll be fine in a few hours. But he’ll have a bruised ego, I imagine.” Zurina pointed the gun at me.
“Time to go,” she said.
I dove to the right, but was too late as a dart impaled my neck.
THE UNBRIDLED RAGE OF MY Ink took control of my body, chained to the wall. The snake moved across my skin in a violent dance, burning my flesh, pulling at my muscles and skin. The anger was so intense, it was as if my body would implode. Pulsing. Expanding.
The Ink’s destruction was about taking control of me, needing my body and my mind. He had my body, but I’d fight for my fuckin’ mind. If he took my mind, there was no possibility he’d be able to unlock the chains.
When the Ink finally lay silent once more, I hung limp, panting, for several minutes, then used my mind to unlock the manacles on my wrists.
The chains dropped with a loud clang to the cement floor, and I fell to my knees.
I reached into my pocket, took out my candy dispenser, and spilled two pills into my palm. I stared at them, contemplating. What Delara asked was impossible. The anger ate at everything inside of me. The diazepam soothed my Ink. I needed it. I needed to be numb.
I had them halfway to my mouth before I threw them against the wall.
Fuck. I bowed my head, hand curling around the container until it crushed into pieces. I let them and the rest of the pills slip to the floor.
I fuckin’ loved her. The pills helped numb the pain of losing her, but I’d never stop loving her.
If the Wraiths ripped away my Taldeburu, I’d always protect the Scars, with or without it. I’d lose my ability to Trace and sit on council, but if I lost Delara I had nothing, and none of it mattered.
Just her.
And she needed to see who I was. Who I’d become.
There was a chance I’d lose her, but hadn’t I lost her already? I had to trust that despite my Ink, I’d never physically harm the one woman I loved, even if my Ink had control of my body.
Trust myself. Trust Delara to love me without the pills, and with a crazed Ink inside me.
I’d fight my worst enemy for her. I’d die for her. Now, my worst enemy was inside me and this was our last chance.
The moment I Traced to Xamien’s house, I knew something was off. The air was still and heavy as if… it was as if death hung in the air.
My chest constricted and a cold dread crept over me as I entered the library where I heard subtle breaths and heartbeats.
I opened the door, my eyes landing on Xamien’s butler, Glunk, standing near the desk, and the Scar, Max, who stood in the corner of the room, head bowed and hands clasped together in front of her. “Where are Xamien and his brother?”
Glunk’s eyes shifted to Max briefly before he spoke. “Damien released Abby and she is gone. Damien left with Jasper. I know not where they’ve gone.” Glunk’s hand rested on the cover of a large, leather book—a grimoire.
“Xamien’s gone after them?” I asked.
“No, sir, he Traced to the Realm,” Max said in a soft honey voice.
I was surprised she spoke at all. I’d only met her once, when I’d brought Abby here, and she’d disappeared and hadn’t said a word when we were introduced. “Why the hell would he go to the Realm?”
“Edan, sir.” I stiffened. “He Traced here.” What the fuck? Edan? Had Edan come here thinking Delara was still here? “But he was drugged and could barely stand. He said he tried to reach you, but couldn’t.” Because I’d been chained to a fuckin’ wall. “So he came here to see Xamien. He said something about the Wraiths being wrong.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
My cell vibrated and I yanked it out of my pocket and glanced at the display—Zurina. “Yes?”
“Delara is no longer yours, Waleron. Tarek was always meant to have her and she belongs to him.”
Zurina’s voice drummed into my soul as she spoke. Every syllable fragmented pieces of me. Even if I’d wanted to speak, I couldn’t. It was as if she were slowly squeezing my heart and blood dripped through the cracks in her fingers.
“She isn’t coming back this time. Let her go and I will make sure the Wraiths do not take away your Taldeburu.”
The phone went dead.
I bled. I fuckin’ bled.
My lungs froze, unable to find breath. My blood rushed like a violent river through my veins as fear slammed through me.
No. Fuck no.
The phone dropped from my hand and I stumbled backward until my spine hit the doorframe. My Ink awakened again as the rage and fear and insurmountable grief took hold of me.
No. Impossible. I’d done everything to keep her safe.
But I’d delivered Delara right into Zurina’s waiting arms—to Tarek.
Jesus Christ. She’d betrayed me. Us. Everyone.
“Fuuuucckkkk,” I roared as I slammed both fists into the wall again and again. “Noooo.”
My Ink thundered across my skin, the burn and pain more intense than ever. It was crazed as it tried to overtake me, its scream to be freed piercing.
Maitagarri.
“Stay alive, baby. You fuckin’ stay alive. Don’t you dare leave me.” The words were lost in the abyss, because there was no chance she’d hear me.
I jerked when a female hand touched my bicep. I swung around, my instinctive reaction to a woman’s touch was for violence, and I grabbed Max’s wrist to throw it off me when coolne
ss invaded my body.
What the hell?
Soothing calm settled over my body, my mind, healing the rage so it lay smothered beneath a blanket of snow. The snake hissed, its forked tongue and fanged teeth revealed as it fought against the cold.
I met Max’s eyes as her fingers rested gently on my arm. She jerked her gaze to my Ink and her eyes narrowed while her grip tightened. I felt the snake slither back to its resting place.
Max dropped her hand from me. Jesus Christ. A Healer with the gift of communicating with Ink. I’d never heard of one before, but that’s exactly what she’d done. She’d spoken to my Ink and calmed it.
She stepped away from me and bowed her head again.
I ran my hand over the top of my head. “Zurina took Delara from the Realm. Tarek now has her.” My voice was ragged and broken.
Glunk still held the grimoire. It was ancient, covered in dust, and the leather casing was cracked along the seams. “Edan said Zurina was responsible. Xamien went to search for her. I’ve been attempting to contact Delara, but it’s been hours and nothing. I cannot reach her telepathically, but,” he patted the book, “I thought I’d be able to with a spell.”
I glanced briefly at the grimoire’s spine—Dreamstepping. “Do it.” She wasn’t dead. I’d know if she was. I’d feel it. Even in Jasmine’s underground cage, I’d always known Delara lived.
“I tried. I cannot connect with her.” Glunk glanced at Max. Her eyes held his for several seconds then turned to me, steady and calm. Her body language read submission, yet nothing in the woman staring at me was fearful.
“It appears, sir, the link isn’t strong enough,” Max said, her voice steady and her eyes unwavering. “It must be Xamien who does it.”
Glunk continued, “They’ve shared mindweaving on numerous occasions. Their link will be strong enough no matter where she is.”
“And if she’s unconscious or dying?” The words tore through my vocal chords. Focus. Control. Don’t give up. Never give up on her.
But I had—I’d given up on us a long time ago. I’d pushed her away. Hurt her. I’d kept her on a long leash, but never unclipped it, just as Anstice once told me.
I’d kept her at a distance. Now the distance was so great that I may never be able to get her back. God, what had I done? I’d destroyed us.
I walked toward Glunk.
He straightened. “When I tried to reach her there was an ominous cloud over her.” He dropped the book on the desk and flipped through pages until he came to one. He tapped his finger. “It says right here, ‘Reaching another in an unconscious state through a dark cloud of mist. Do not go further or you will join them in the state of lifelessness.’” I placed my hand flat on the desk and leaned over, reading the words while Glunk explained. “I pushed further to try and reach her, but….” Glunk raised his head. “I felt the cloud, sir. It was brief, maybe a second or two, but if she were dead—you cannot reach the dead in Dreamstepping.”
“What do you need?”
“Xamien. And he will need as much of her as possible. Any personal effects and perhaps others who are close to her.”
“Then you will fly to Toronto immediately.”
Glunk raised his brows and the right side of his mouth lifted in a mischievous smirk. “No worries, sir. I will Trace there.”
Before I had the chance to react to Glunk’s revelation, he was gone is a swirl of red mist. I turned to Max. “I assume Xamien knows about Glunk’s ability to Trace?”
Max nodded.
“Is there anything else I should be aware of?”
“Sir, you will have to ask Xamien that question.”
Of course, her loyalty would be to the man who’d saved her life. I glowered, but she refused to cower. The girl was a hell of a lot more than any of us knew.
And so was Xamien’s fuckin’ butler. Jesus.
Her chin rose. “Sir, Delara is a survivor.” She nodded to my Ink. “He hurts. Just as you do. Give him what he wants.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Max’s eyes shone for a brief second. “He wants her.” Max quietly left.
Delara? My Ink fed off my rage. I was forced to keep it calm with pills, but all it wanted was her?
My Ink wanted Delara.
PACING THE LENGTH OF KEIR’s living room, I waited for Waleron to get his ass to the Talde house. Xamien had told us what happened with Delara and then Traced to check some locations that Zurina may have taken her.
Zurina had Traced Delara from the Realm—those who sat on the Deaconry could Trace with a Scar to or from the Realm, but that was it.
Zurina had wanted Delara in the Realm. The threats in Toronto and Spain were to force Waleron to take Delara to the Realm.
Balen and Danni stood by the door with their hands interlinked while Ryker leaned against the archway into the kitchen, ankles crossed, knife in hand as he rhythmically ran his thumb back and forth over the sharp blade. Blood dripped down the edge of the knife from his thumb.
Keir said something to his brother, Hack, who nodded and jogged from the room and went upstairs, likely to his computer. He was a genius when it came to anything technical.
I stopped pacing and everyone’s eyes shot to the stranger who’d Traced into the living room. Ryker, Keir, and I surrounded him within a second, but it was Ryker who had his knife to the stranger’s throat.
“Who the fuck are you?” Ryker growled.
“I’m Glunk. Xamien’s butler.”
The guy was short and stocky with a balding head and a bulbous nose. Unusual for a Scar to look like him, as we all carried the trait of being tall. But his steady gaze and calm manner while a knife was held to his throat were confident enough to be a Scar. With one finger he gently pushed Ryker’s knife away and Ryker allowed it. Then he bowed his head to each of us.
“Butler who can Trace? Hardly,” I said.
“I’ve been with the family for centuries,” Glunk said.
Waleron appeared in a cloud of mist at the entrance of the living room and nodded to Glunk.
“Waleron, is it true?” Keir asked. “Did Zurina betray us?”
Waleron’s face was emotionless, but he was pale and his ice-blue eyes were haunted. “Yes.”
I slammed my fist into the wall. “What the fuck? That bitch. I swear, if I find that traitorous Healer, my arrow is going up her goddamn—”
I stopped as a calm energy seeped into me, and I inhaled a deep breath. What the hell? I peered around the room and Glunk was staring at me with a half smile. Holy shit. It was him.
Glunk was definitely a Scar and a damn powerful one. With him able to manipulate my emotions and cause the calm, he had to be a Reflector. But a Reflector would normally smother the emotion. What Glunk had done was strip one emotion and slowly fed another. Like Waleron and Delara’s daughter, Rayne.
He stopped pushing at me and turned to Keir. “I believe we’ll be able to reach Delara through Dreamstepping,” Glunk said. “But we require Xamien.”
“Dreamstepping?” Keir asked with surprise. “That’s dangerous and complicated. Not really liking the risk.”
Keir had Dreamstepped with Anstice when she’d first learned about the Scars. She’d been freaking out about the concept of us existing, as she’d grown up unaware of the other world, so Keir put her in DS and Dreamstepped with her.
In the dream world, Keir was able to control images and manipulate Anstice’s emotions by changing the vision and how she felt. But, if you died in Dreamstepping, you died in real life, and vice versa. A person could be lost in the abyss of dreams and never be found again. Xamien had to be able to have complete control over his dreams and Delara’s.
“Xamien’s mother is a witch. She practiced Dreamstepping with him numerous times while he was growing up.” There was effortlessness and subtle confidence in Glunk, as if he were unconcerned about any of this. Or Glunk was so overly confident that he had no doubt Delara would be found unharmed.
Keir rested his hand on the back of Anstice’s neck. “Delara’s location is off the grid. Won’t be easy. She can’t be woken if shit goes down.”
Glunk shrugged. “Nothing worthwhile is easy. Where is Xamien?”
“Here,” Xamien said, striding into the living room from a cloud of mist in the foyer. “I searched every place I can think of. There is no sign of Zurina, Tarek, or Delara. Tor is combing the land and Urtzi the air, but it’s too vast. It will take too long.” There was tension on both Taldeburus’ faces.
“Zurina called me.” Waleron’s words sounded strained. “She Traced Delara to Tarek. She claims we will never find her and he will make her suffer for speaking out against him at council.”
“Fuck,” I muttered, collapsing onto the couch, head in my hands.
“I can reach her,” Xamien said. “Delara and I have mindweaved for years. Our connection is strong.”
“I’ve been trying to reach her and can’t,” Danni said. Balen tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “She may be drugged or unconscious.”
“Jesus Christ,” I said, slamming my fist onto the coffee table in front of me. “How the hell did this happen? She had two Taldeburus watching her. Why the hell—” A knife embedded in the wood coffee table beside my fist. My eyes shot to Ryker.
He lifted his brows as if daring me to retaliate. “Shut the fuck up. Losing your cool wastes my time and everyone else’s.” He casually walked across the room and yanked the knife from the coffee table.
“Even if she’s drugged, I can reach her,” Xamien said. “Though reaching anyone while unconscious is… a risk.”
“Xamien,” Glunk warned.
“It’s our only chance.” Xamien looked at Waleron when he said it.
“What do you need?” Keir asked.
Xamien nodded to me. “You’re her closest friend, Jedrik. I need you and anything you can think of that will link me to her.”
“I’ll get her room ready,” Anstice offered, heading to the stairs.
Glunk clapped his hands together. “Bueno. No time to waste.”
Waleron nodded to Balen, then Traced from the room. “Where the hell is he going?” I asked Balen.