Fern was quiet for a handful of heartbeats. I didn’t do my best though. I didn’t fight. I couldn’t protect you.
Annnd there was the guilt. They never would have found Emma after Alan took her if not for Fern, and without the bond with him she wouldn’t have known they were coming to her rescue, and through her, he’d been the rescue team’s eyes in Alan’s compound, and still he felt like he hadn’t done enough. Sure, everyone else who’d come for her probably felt the same way — that was just how guilt worked — but they weren’t tied to her soul to soul, lifeforce to lifeforce. Fern was.
For him, the horror of not having been there to protect her was worse; he hadn’t been able to do the one thing left to him, to just be there with her, to make sure she didn’t go through it alone. His was the horror of not knowing.
We’re merged, Fern. The memories are there if you want them. You never asked. I don’t blame you, but you never asked, and then I didn’t know how to talk to you about it. Fern, you have to know — I wasn’t alone.
His head snapped up and he caught her hands in his own, the world came back into focus with blinding clarity, and she was looking at him, and he was staring at her in disbelief. What?
Suddenly she didn’t know how to explain. The memories are there, she said again.
He opened his mouth, shut it with a click of his teeth, fear and wonder widening his eyes. She felt the first tentative touch as he sought the memory in her mind, almost before he’d even decided to do it. She breathed out slowly through her nose; she could do this…
The rumbling of heavy stone scraping against stone — the sound of the main door to Seshua’s chambers opening — jerked them both to attention a moment before Red Sun appeared in the bathroom doorway. “If you two were planning to use the hot tub, it’ll have to wait. Felani’s on the phone.”
10
Felani’s voice was calm and clipped over the coms room phone line. “We are en route to the airfield where Seshua’s jet is waiting. I won’t tell you where we’re going, because we don’t want you trying to follow — right now you are safest with Red Sun and Fern, because you can simply keep moving. The rest of us must think of a different strategy.”
Emma had never been so relieved to hear Felani’s voice, but there were things she had to know. The plastic casing of the phone creaked in her grip. “Who, Felani?”
The maiden didn’t need to be able to read minds. “Several guards unaccounted for. Three too injured to move them but their conditions are stable. Ricky and Antonio are alive, Ricky injured, but not fatally, both of them are here but Antonio is tending to Ricky so you cannot speak to them. Ashai and Teremun stayed behind, for the horses.”
“Oh Jesus, are they all right?”
“Yes. My lady, please do not try to come back. The ones left at the ranch can handle things.” At least Felani knew well enough to say please — sometimes with Emma, the fastest way to guarantee she tried to do something was to order her not to. “Whatever the serpent priests did to overcome the ranch’s safeguards, the safeguards are still there — there has been no response from human emergency services.” Right — the explosions. If the safeguards were simply nonexistent, someone would have reported the towering jets of flame and smoke.
Before Emma could reply, Red grunted, having been listening. “I still can’t materialize there. I’ve tried.”
That was bad. To Felani, Emma said, “What happened to the serpent priests?”
There was noise on Felani’s end of the line; it sounded like they’d arrived at the airfield. “They fell back once they discovered you weren’t there, but they were…thorough, trying to find you.”
“Did they try to take hostages?”
“No,” said Felani. “Several of Seshua’s closest and most trusted warriors were within arm’s reach, but no. They cut their losses when they couldn’t get you. They had the resources, mind,” Felani added, voice tight with pain and anger. “They could have taken anyone they wished. We fought hard, my lady, but we were lucky.”
Lucky.
Fern covered Emma’s hand with his, easing her hold on the phone. She looked up and found her feelings reflected in his face. He also looked on the verge of the change; shadows shifted beneath his skin and his eyes were perfectly round and solid black, but they were still merged, so he was calm enough.
“I must go,” Felani said. “We are boarding the jet.”
“Will you come here?”
Felani’s laugh was shrill. “Believe me, my lady, I want nothing more than to rush to your side and prevent anyone from letting you do something stupid.”
“Gee, thanks Felani.”
“You are welcome. But the serpent priesthood is watching us, and we cannot endanger you. There are other sanctuaries, Emma,” she added gently.
“But you won’t tell me where you’re going.”
“No my lady. I love you too much. Now let me speak to the king again.”
Emma let Seshua take the phone and then went out into the wide stone passageway where she could pace. It was cool out here, and the passageway stretched long in either direction, so she felt less trapped. Fern pushed waves of comfort at her with his mind, and being merged with him stopped her from drowning in her own fear, but there was nothing else he could do so he leaned against the wall and watched her.
What the hell were they going to do? They couldn’t stay here at Seshua’s Arizona sanctuary — it was probably a matter of hours before the serpent priests got here, and they would come. If they could find her at the ranch, they could find her anywhere.
And what did it mean that the serpent priesthood had been able to find the ranch?
It meant their home had been destroyed and they could never go back.
But what did it mean that the safeguards had failed?
Emma stopped pacing.
Telly.
Telly was gone, and his magic had failed.
Emma realized Fern was at her side and using the merge to breathe for her. She looked up into his face, and he looked back, his mind wedged snugly against hers, his expression open and waiting.
It was so good to be able to just look at him and have him look back. He smiled; it was a small smile, but a good one. Emma resisted the urge to grab his black thermal t-shirt in both fists and hang on for dear life so he could never get away from her again, except the problem had never been physical distance. They were bound, they couldn’t survive separated for very long, so unless one of them decided they had a death wish they were together forever. But it turned out shit could still come between you, even when you were bound mind to mind and spirit to spirit, even when you could read each other’s every thought and feeling. And forever was a long time. Had she really thought that a few months had been enough to smooth out all the creases, and then happily ever after?
I’m sorry, he said.
Oh Jesus, not this again. If I have to spend another three months training you out of apologizing for the bond —
No, he interrupted, smiling and catching her hand in his. The smile died. I’m sorry for being so caught up in my own pain that I abandoned you when you needed me most, after Russia.
That wasn’t how she saw it. Fern —
He squeezed her hand, regret tightening the corners of his eyes. It’s true. I was a coward. I told myself I was shielding and withdrawing because you’d shut me out and didn’t need me, but it was because I was afraid of what happened to you, afraid to know, when you’re the one who had to — to go through it. He shut his eyes, then opened them again, and they were wet but the look in them was fierce. Either you accept my apology now, or spend the rest of eternity trying in vain to train me out of saying sorry.
Emma narrowed her eyes at him.
He dropped her hand and crossed his arms. Eternity’s a long time, Em.
Damn him. Fine. Apology accepted. She took a step back, looking him up and down. What the hell? He looked…
Fern, don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like you’ve gain
ed about ten pounds in the last hour. The thermal workout gear she’d bought him was molded to his chest and shoulders, and the slim line of buttons running down the V-neck would have been impossible to fasten. The shirt had not been that tight when he first tried it on. And… she reached up and touched his face. The deep lines either side of his mouth were gone. His neck had filled out, so his Adam’s apple no longer looked sharp enough to cut glass. He was just…bigger.
It’s the merge, he said. We’re not burning energy fighting Alan’s call. His expression turned uncomfortable, and he looked away. It’s affected you too.
Oh my God. He was right. Emma grabbed her own chest with both hands. I have boobs again.
The sound of his laughter was good. And I’m hungry, she added.
They both turned when Red Sun stepped out of the coms room. Emma took notice of him for the first time since she’d found him in the kitchen at three in the morning; he’d shed his leather jacket and shoes and was wearing just the usual white tank and faded blue jeans. The clump of scar tissue below his right shoulder where his arm ended stood out against his deep tan. He didn’t look at them, instead hung his head, staring at some point on the floor. He looked exhausted.
Emma padded over to him. “Does Traveling deplete you?”
He raised a brow at her, lifting his head. “Aye, spitfire. It does. How are you two feeling?” he said, glancing at Fern.
“You mean after stopping Alan’s brain drain?” Emma said. “Better. A lot better.” She leaned against the wall, and Fern came to stand next to her as she went on. “I don’t remember feeling bad this past month — I felt stronger than ever, actually — but I know my appetite disappeared at some point, and obviously Fern and I both had problems sleeping. But now I feel…I don’t know.”
“High,” Fern said.
She looked up at him. “Yeah. I mean, normal, but also kinda like I could run a marathon and then benchpress a car at the end of it? Of course the both of you probably could already do that, but still.”
Red snorted. “Only one arm, remember?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Flatterer.” He cocked his head, listening to Seshua’s conversation with Felani, or whoever the king was speaking to now. Bummer her renewed metaphysical energy didn’t come with preternatural hearing too. Red’s attention came back to her and Fern, and he looked even more tired than before.
Emma put her hand on his arm, because sometimes touch seemed to soothe him; he didn’t get much of it. His skin was hot and humming with power, and she felt their mental tie brighten with the contact. She neatly folded away the memory of his kiss.
“Seshua has a plan, right?”
Red dipped his chin, closed his eyes, opened them again. “The plan is me. We keep moving until Seshua and Alexi have the serpent priesthood either under control or out of the picture.”
Emma stopped touching Red’s arm and swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. “Alexi?”
“He’s in South America, trying to deal with this mess. That’s where the priesthood’s temple is, so that’s where most of them are. The contingent that attacked the ranch will likely stay on our trail until they find some clue to where you are. And by our trail, I mean Felani, Ricky and Anton’s trail.”
Red looked about as happy about that as Emma felt. “Can they track our people once they’re in the air?” She asked.
Seshua’s deep voice came in reply as he stepped from the coms room, his head brushing the lintel. “We don’t know, but there is a chance they can. With their power unbound, they might be capable of anything.”
Emma looked from Seshua to Red Sun and back again. “Unbound?”
When both of them remained silent, looking at each other, Emma turned to Fern. His black eyes met hers and he shrugged. “I got nothing.”
Seshua growled. “I had assumed someone explained this to you already. I thought surely the walking god — or you at least, Red Sun.”
Red’s expression was about as inviting as a cliff face. “It never came up.”
Seshua’s response to that was in several languages, one of them Spanish; Emma was pretty sure the sentiment in every language was the same. “Damn it,” he finished. Yep — all the same. “The source of the serpent priesthood’s power has long been a mystery,” Seshua began with a dark look in Red’s direction. “There are very few of them; they do not breed, instead selecting human male initiates to turn with the light of the change, a practice that stretches back farther than anyone in the Central American royal court can remember. They are master telepaths, as you know, and they command the power to suffocate their prey with fear. They also possess other, more arcane mental abilities, some of which are more difficult to execute, like the power to render a victim comatose.”
“How could I forget,” Emma said dryly. “You did give Alexi the order to turn me into Sleeping Beauty if things went south in Egypt.”
“For which I have no remorse,” he shot back. “My point is, the serpent priesthood are different, and the source of that difference is a closely guarded secret. What I do know is that their power is vast and unstable, and must be anchored, and the Anchor holds that power in check. Without the Anchor, the serpent priests are infinitely more dangerous, but they cannot control the magic that makes them so for very long. They need the Anchor.”
Seshua stared, hard, as if willing Emma to understand. She thought she did, but she didn’t like it. “But now the serpent priesthood are unbound,” she said slowly. “Why?”
He let out a breath through his nose. “Because Alexi destroyed the Anchor.”
“But if they’ve been bound for thousands of years because their power was too dangerous, why would Alexi do that?”
Seshua looked at Red with an expression of resignation. Red looked at Emma. Fern looked at Seshua, and Emma felt Fern’s confusion, so at least she wasn’t the only idiot in the room.
Finally Seshua turned back to her, nostrils flaring like he wanted to have some choice words with Red Sun. He spread his hands, and that was when she knew this was going to be bad, because Seshua never apologized, not even with a gesture.
“He did it to save you.”
Emma and Fern had burned through a tremendous amount of energy healing from the passive drain of Alan’s attempts at establishing telepathic contact, so Emma called timeout long enough for them all to go up to the Roadhouse and get food. Red Sun made burgers and picked up where Seshua had left off, explaining how, when they were trying to find a way to get Emma and Katenka out of Alan’s compound in Russia, Red and Alexi had Traveled to the secret temple in Brazil where the serpent priesthood’s Anchor was hidden under heavy guard.
He and Alexi fought their way in, but Alexi went alone to destroy the Anchor. Being the one to destroy it, Alexi absorbed some of its power, and used that power to blast his way into the compound with both physical and telepathic magic and get to Emma.
Emma didn’t bother asking why Red hadn’t told her before now; she knew him well enough now. Red never told tales. She was certain that if it involved her safety — or Fern’s, or Rain and Katenka’s — he’d speak up, but until then, he did things his way.
They’d taken a small table out on the main floor near the bar, the Roadhouse interior dimly lit by the filtered glow from the kitchens and a few mellow downlights over the bar. Emma pushed her plate away, brushing crumbs from her fingers. Fern had finished way ahead of her, and was watching her now; through the merge, he could feel all that she was feeling, but he was still politely refraining from digging deeper than the surface of her mind to find what she was really thinking. That didn’t mean he wasn’t curious.
“So,” Emma said, and suddenly needed to take a big drink of water from her glass just to get her throat to work again — fear for Alexi had unfurled in her gut like black wings, and panic was rising. But she had to stay cool. She put her glass down, focusing on the condensation rolling down its side. “Alexi’s actions threw the serpent priesthood into chaos. He’s been tryin
g to control them, but they’re using his connection to me against him, trying to get at me to force him to do whatever it is they want him to do.”
“Correct.” Seshua sat with an arm slung over the back of his chair, legs crossed guy-style with one ankle resting on the other knee. Weirdly, he looked even more huge sitting than he did standing. He pinched the bridge of his nose in a very human gesture of frustration. “We don’t know how the serpent priests tracked you; perhaps they were already watching my people in Central America, and did indeed track the plane through the air. We took every precaution, but,” he lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know.”
Emma cleared her throat. “I believe I just said they’re using Alexi’s connection to me against him.” Seshua lifted both brows and Fern cocked his head at her. “And by connection, I meant connection .”
Red didn’t seem surprised, but Seshua went very still. “Connection.”
Emma licked her suddenly dry lips; she really hadn’t been looking forward to this, but it was time. “The serpent priesthood is connected telepathically,” she began.
“Yes,” Seshua snapped. “And?”
Fern bristled mentally at Seshua’s tone, and Emma sent a wordless plea for Fern to be still. She met Seshua’s gaze without flinching, took a deep breath, and spilled the beans. “Alexi and I are connected telepathically. More than telepathically. As Caller of the Blood, my power is connected to his, because when my powers were awakened there was too much and he took the overflow and it created a link. He never used that link,” kind-of never used it, she amended silently. “Because he didn’t want to risk the other serpent priests detecting it and using it against us, but I guess they found a way. I never told anyone, for the same reasons.”
I would have told you, she sent to Fern without looking at him. I wanted to. But I thought talking about it, any of it, would cause you pain.
Before Fern could reply to her, Seshua stood, chair scraping the floor. The air turned suddenly humid, and Emma’s heart skipped a beat. “Excuse me,” he said stiffly, and headed for the Roadhouse doors, hair moving on its own in the wake of his power.
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