walker saga 06 - dronish

by Jaymin Eve

  His mother nodded, going on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll meet you in front of the horror house in an hour.”

  She left using the side door. Brace had offered her this place when she’d returned, but Lasandra had declined, deciding she wanted a new start. Which had been a good thing, since this house was the very place he wanted to make a home with Abigail. She’d told him how much she loved it, and above all else Brace needed her to be happy.

  That was also part of the reason he’d strongly suggested Colton move into the dwelling beside theirs. Abigail and Lucy would be happiest living close to each other.

  He exhaled forcefully as he used his energy to secure the perimeter of the house. Everything was going to shit right then. The Seventine had just one more to free, Josian was missing, and his poor beautiful mate had the weight of every world on her shoulders. Brace was determined to take some of that weight. Hell, he’d take it all if she’d let him, but her independence and sense of responsibility was strong.

  He strode through the house, his long-legged stride eating up the distance between them and, as always, his heart rate increased at the thought of touching her again. Nothing else in his long life moved his emotions like Abigail. They had spent far too many nights apart, and he was over it; from now on, there was no more space between them. Brace was pretty sure he’d kill the next entity to keep them apart.

  The room was dark when he entered, just the slightest spill of light from the bathroom. Without thought, he crossed the room, moving until he stood right at the edge of the bed. Abigail’s frame looked small; she lay unmoving, her exhaustion knocking her out cold.

  Brace couldn’t stop himself from dropping to his knees and examining every detail of her beautiful face. His mate was without any doubt absolutely heart-stopping stunning. He wasn’t the only one to think so, but he also saw so much deeper than her perfect exterior. The fire and determination with which she threw herself into everything, the protectiveness and honor with which she made each choice. Even the difficult ones.

  He had to touch her.

  Sometimes he felt as if he’d go insane if he couldn’t feel her soft skin, taste her full sensual lips. It was torture of the highest order. He’d been tortured by Que, but distancing himself from Red was pain beyond any he’d known.

  He lightly stroked her cheek, and even in the deep of sleep she mumbled and shifted toward him. When Abigail had confessed about their broken melding bond, Brace had felt an actual gash carve through his heart. It was a wound he wasn’t sure would ever be fully erased, one of those injuries which healed but always left some scar tissue behind.

  Abigail shifted closer again, her features tightening as if, even in sleep, she was afraid or worried. Brace fought the urge to gather her into his arms. She needed rest, and he would not wake her because of his selfish need. Her mass of curls cut a fiery path across the light sheets, and as her shifting caused the blanket to lower Brace realized that she was wearing one of his shirts.

  He groaned. Did women realize what it did to men when they wore their clothes? It was like she was wearing his name on her chest. The sight brought out his caveman – as Abigail would say. He knew then he was going to lose the battle. He had to hold her; he needed to feel her close; he had to wipe clear those fine lines of tension that were feathering her brow. He wasn’t meeting his mother for an hour and he wanted that time with this woman who had not only stolen his heart but also his soul.

  He could not exist without her, and he wouldn’t want to.

  Brace shucked off all of his clothes except for the tight boxer briefs and, doing his best not to disturb her, he eased in and gathered her close. She stirred but didn’t wake. He considered that a success. She felt so delicate in his arms. He was constantly surprised at the strength she wielded because to him she was as fragile as a beautiful flower. She moved closer, her body craving the healing of their bond.

  “Brace.”

  Abigail said his name so softly, as if she didn’t want to disturb the moment.

  Brace buried his face into her neck, her silky and fragrant curls caressing him.

  “I’m sorry, baby; I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  She laughed. The sound was like a shot of adrenalin to his body, and the same overwhelming desire he always felt around her exploded to painful levels. He forced himself to focus. Now was not the time. He was a man who prided himself on his control, even if one redhead seemed to be crumbling the foundation.

  Abigail flipped over so they were face to face, and Brace was again grateful for his exceptional eyesight. He could see every facet of her stunning, emerald eyes. They were so wide and clear, and he could read the emotions pouring from her. He knew he was turning into a weak-ass Walker, but there was something about staring into those jewel-like depths, something which knocked him right on his ass.

  “I’ve missed you so much.” Her voice broke a little. “Every night since I severed our bond I’ve dreamed of being with you like this, of lying in your arms, and touching your skin.”

  To reiterate her point, she lifted both hands and pressed them against Brace’s bare chest. Another sob choked from her. “Some nights I thought the pain would kill me … sometimes, I wanted it to.”

  Brace had no idea how to control the flood of emotions he was experiencing right then. Her pain was killing him. He wanted to punch someone or throw a few energy balls, but mostly he would have done anything to erase the agony from her face. She was sobbing inside; he could feel her anguish.

  He gently fisted two handfuls of her hair. They needed a moment to heal, a moment to bond. With that thought in mind, he slammed his lips against hers, pressing into her softness, but forcing himself to hold back his full strength.

  Then as the intoxicating taste of her filled his senses and she returned the kiss with abandon, he had to fight himself not to pull her harder into him.

  It always felt, no matter how close they were, it was not close enough. Her moan cut straight through to him. His body was hard and ready, every muscle rigid, and his control all but gone. The usual reaction he had to his mate.

  “I need you, Brace.” Her tone was begging and breath came in gasps as she lifted her lips from his.

  Brace tried to force his body to calm a little. He did not want to hurt her in his need. “Red, please. No more begging. I swear to the mother of all …” He paused. “Do you know how much I love you? I love you more than I ever thought was possible; you destroy and rebuild me every day.”

  Her eyes softened, shimmering at him. His heart clenched at the sight.

  “I love you too, Brace, so much. But right now if you don’t kiss me again, I’m going to be pissed off.”

  He grinned. Her fire was as big a turn-on as her begging.

  “Your wish, my command.”

  He touched his lips to hers again, softer this time, gently moving as their tongues tangled together in a dance as old as time itself. As the ever-present passion between them grew, the urgency increased. Brace freed one of his hands from her hair and fisted the shirt she wore.

  He spoke between kisses. “You should always wear my clothes, like every day. But right now, this has to go.”

  She arched so he could strip her bare, his eyes feasting on the long expanses of skin on display. Abigail had a body which kept him up at night; perfect features and legs which went on for miles. It was standard for Walkers to be beautiful, but Brace couldn’t actually imagine there were any more perfect than his Red.

  Brace was already shirtless, but Abigail wasted no time ripping the boxers from him. She leaned back on her elbows, running her eyes over his body.

  “You keep looking at me like that and this will be over before it’s even started.” His voice was low and husky, his need riding every word.

  She licked her lips, clearly trying to kill him. Her gaze focused on his wide shoulders. “Did your muscles get bigger? I swear every time I get you naked, there are more muscles.”

  He grinned; it made him happy th
at she liked his body. He’d always worked hard in training, his muscles honed over hundreds of years. And the extra size she was seeing was the power boost from being Princeps. His strength was so much greater than before. Brace knew this strength was essential to him. His power was his weapon to keep her safe, protect her from any that would mean her harm.

  Words were forgotten then as he reached for her again. There were no more pauses as they took the time to touch and taste, kissing along long limbs, relearning all the facets of each other. Their bodies had been apart for too many nights, and now, as the blood raced through them, it was as if some of the fissures within healed. As they moved closer and more in sync, there were less secrets, less hurt, and less pain. They were healing each other through the simple act of loving.

  Afterwards they lay together in a tangle of overheated limbs. Brace held her tightly, unwilling to allow any space between them.

  “I have to go meet Mom.” He finally broke the silence. He was half tempted to cancel, needing to stay with his girl for a little longer. “She said there was something that Que was hiding in his house, a room which might hold some answers.”

  Abigail shifted her head to meet his gaze.

  They lay less than an inch apart.

  “She hates me, doesn’t she?”

  Brace lifted his right hand and traced a path down her cheek, before gently cupping her chin in his large hand. “No, right now she’s fighting against the change, against everything she’s lost. You know, I never even knew she was missing. I thought she was searching for Caty. I had no idea that Que had stolen her away and dropped her into the same world.”

  Guilt ripped through him. He’d thought his mother had abandoned him. He hadn’t been mad with her, knowing she was searching for Caty, figuring she’d somehow cut her energy off. He should have looked for her too, had enough faith that his mother would have told him if she was planning on disappearing. Damn Que, filling his head with lies.

  Abigail clued into his thoughts again. “Lasandra thinks I’m going to steal you away from her?” She was astute, as always.

  Brace feathered a kiss across her lips. “Mom’s always been protective of her children. When Walkers mate, it’s everything ... our whole world. She knows now that she’s no longer the most important woman in my life. She doesn’t like the competition.”

  Abigail shifted as if she were uncomfortable. “I would never take you away from her.” Her gentle heart shone through.

  “It’s a done deal, Red, I’m yours. From the moment you touched my soul, the moment we dreamed of each other, I was a goner. There’s no hope for anything else, and I’ve never been happier. Mom’s just going to have to learn how to fit into these new dynamics.”

  As he finished speaking, he pulled himself from the bed, and gathered his mate into his arms. He strode with determination into the next room and, using his energy, turned on the many shower heads that littered the ceiling of the large square stall. Powerful jets of water shot around. He made sure it was the perfect temperature, before easing them inside. Abigail had her legs wrapped tightly around his body, pressing her curves into him.

  As the water beat onto their skin, massaging and caressing every sensitive nerve ending, she dropped her head back and let the water wash over her. Brace couldn’t help but follow that movement, placing his lips against her throat. Kissing his way up to her mouth. Passion flared again, but they didn’t have time for anything more than these few hot, drugging kisses.

  Eventually he had to place her down so they could clean up.

  “Do you want to come with me to Que’s?” he asked.

  Abigail had a toothbrush hanging from the corner of her mouth, she still preferred this method of teeth cleaning. She spoke around it. “Yes, I don’t want you checking out anything dangerous without me.” It was goddamned adorable that she thought she could protect him. “And Lasandra needs to get used to seeing me around.”

  His mate was beautiful and brave. “Okay, baby. Well, we have ten minutes, so unfortunately time is up in here.”

  Abigail dropped her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. “This is the best shower in all the worlds. I think I could live in here and be a happy, wrinkly-skinned person.”

  Brace threw back his head and laughed. “Walkers’ skin doesn’t wrinkle in the water.”

  She shoved him. “You know what I mean.”

  They spent longer than planned in the shower. Dressing was also hindered by the fact they kept undressing again, but eventually they left their home and made their way hand-in-hand across Abernath. The parties had died off a little as the later hour approached, many retiring for the night. Brace knew they’d be back the next day. He could feel the ebbing flow of his people, nothing specific, just energy, but it was comforting all the same.

  Lasandra was waiting in front of the building, alone, arms crossed over her body as she stared up into the darkened sky. The four suns which lit up the sky of Abernath had sunk to the other side of their world. They’d be back in a few hours. But for now there were only slivers of light from the stars.

  His mother finally noticed them. Her face fell a little when she saw Abigail at his side, but she covered it up quickly enough.

  “Follow me.” Her words were short as she turned and slipped through the open door.

  Brace hid his distaste as they entered the cold, glass-fronted building. He hated this dwelling. It was the place he had been brought to for punishments on those all too frequent occasions he’d dared to question Que. The former princeps had had this laser which actually marked the skin of Walkers. Brace still had slight divots littering his body. They were hard to see but they were there. It was also the place he’d lost his sister and mother, the space which had consumed the soul of his father.

  They ventured further inside along the sparse walkways. Que was not big on personal possessions. The only room which had anything in it was his office, and that was a scene of macabre displays that made any normal individual want to run for the hills. Unfortunately, that seemed to be where Lasandra was leading them.

  “This place is giving me the creepiest of creeps,” Abigail muttered as she stared around, always very aware of her surroundings.

  Brace pulled her closer. “Hold on to that thought. Pretty soon you’re going wish we were back in this walkway.”

  “Awesome.”

  A set of stairs led up to the second level, most of which made up the office of the former princeps.

  Lights flickered on as they entered. A series of gasps sounded from Abigail. Brace knew it was probably only his mother’s presence which stopped the curses following, and he couldn’t blame her.

  “I should have had this place destroyed long ago.” His anger cut through the air like the blades of swords. It renewed his pure hatred of his father every time he saw the trophies scattered around.

  “Please … please, for the love of my own sanity, tell me that these aren’t body parts mounted on the walls … and in jars.” Abigail’s nose screwed up as she tried not to stare too hard in any direction.

  Brace rubbed her back in slow, reassuring movements. “This was where he brought Abernaths for punishment.” He pointed toward a hand that was mounted above the huge black desk at the back of the space. “That’s mine … it’s lucky we regenerate or plenty of our warriors would be lopsided.”

  The breath whooshed out of Brace as Abigail threw her arms around him. He could feel her barely concealed rage as she squeezed him tightly. A full range of emotions flooded him.

  Besides Lasandra, no one had ever worried about him. He was the strong one – responsibility and risk were thrown at him without thought.

  But this slip of a girl put his happiness and safety above that of all others. He’d never had any doubt, of course, but sometimes it was crystal clear … he was the luckiest damn man in existence. With all the horrible shit he’d been involved in through Que over the years, he wasn’t sure he deserved the gift that was Red, but even so, he was keeping her.


  Lasandra was shooting Abigail narrow-eyed glares. Brace locked his gaze on his mother, warning her he would not tolerate any more of her bullshit attitude toward his mate. She dismissed him with a wave of her hand, but he’d seen the sadness draw across her features before she turned away.

  He tightened his grip around Abigail, but his eyes were glued to his mother as she crossed the room. Lasandra paused at the back wall, and with barely a hesitation she reached out and gripped the hand that was attached to the wall. Brace’s hand that he’d lost to Que in a fight just under three hundred years ago.

  “What the hell is your mother doing? Has she lost her ever-loving mind?”

  Brace hadn’t realized that Abigail had her head turned to the side and was also watching the regal blond. A blond who appeared to be shaking hands with his long-ago removed and petrified arm.

  Brace laced his fingers through Abigail’s and together they crossed the space. He wanted to get close enough to see if his mother had lost her ‘ever-loving mind’, as Red had declared.

  As they took the first few steps across, their footsteps echoing on the white and shiny tiled floor, the space directly behind the hand shifted and a doorway appeared.

  Brace’s stride faltered minutely, but he knew that this had to be the entrance to the experiment room. He wondered how Lasandra had known of it.

  “Did your dead hand just open up a doorway to Que’s secret torture lair?” Abigail’s voice was a mixture of freaked out and impressed.

  “Something like that,” he replied.

  They quickened their step. Brace did not want Lasandra to venture down there without him. The doorway was large enough to easily fit his height and width, so clearly it had been designed for Que. The stairs were steep, made of metal grates with large gaps separating each one. The path was too narrow for two, so Brace pushed Abigail directly behind him; he was going down first. He could see his mother a few steps ahead in the dim light. He felt a hand reach out and grasp the back of his shirt, which he was happy about. Red was exactly where he wanted her. Safe.