Cloak of Deceit: An Alex Moore Novel

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Cloak of Deceit: An Alex Moore Novel Page 29

by Gwen Mitchell


  Briana bit it until she tasted blood.

  This is your baby sister, take care of her, her mother had said the first time she held the squirming Tara in her arms. She’d promised to. She’d failed. She wasn’t strong enough. She wasn’t brave enough. Tara was gone. They were all gone.

  It’s your fault.

  “I’m s-sorry.” She clenched her fist around the rose quartz, willing her message into the ether. “I’m so sorry.”

  The reflection glared at her.

  She would be so ashamed of you.

  “I’m sorry!”

  She threw the quartz, and the mirror erupted into a web of cracks. Her voice broke on a sob. She’d failed them all, and now they’d left her completely alone in a world that was either tortured with nightmares or drugged into numbness.

  She sank to the floor, surrendering to the tears she’d managed to dam up the last day and a half. She cried until she lost her voice. Until she barely had the energy to climb onto Tara’s bed and curl into a ball. Exhaustion made her breaths deep and her eyelids heavy. She fought off sleep for as long as she could, afraid of what horrors awaited her on the other side, but eventually it caught up with her and pulled her under.

  The first thing she noticed upon waking some-odd hours later was that night had fallen, and she was frozen through. The second thing was…doorbell.

  Her body responded automatically. She tumbled from the bed and zombie-walked towards the hall, tripping on her cast-off shoes. The lopsided bun fell out of her hair as she slugged down the stairs, wiping under her puffy eyes. A few steps later, she remembered the last two days. It wasn’t all a nightmare she could write off. The worst part was real.

  A third ring.

  “Coming!”

  She bounded down the last few steps, swung the door open, and forgot to breathe.

  Kean Royce Fitzgerald was on the porch, about to knock.

  Chapter Four

  Bri looked spooked — not exactly the reaction Kean had hoped for. It had taken every ounce of his restraint to wait so long to see her, knowing how much she must be hurting. Yet after envisioning this moment for years, the reality of it stopped him in his tracks. He didn’t know her anymore, hadn’t known what to expect.

  “Kean.” She sucked in a breath as if she would say more, but just stared at him.

  He lowered his arm slowly, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. “Hullo, Bri.”

  Seconds stretched into eons as they re-learned the lines of once familiar faces. She looked even better than in his dreams. Her mussed hair and the smudges under her pensive green eyes gave her a sultry edge, no matter how tightly she pressed those curvy lips. She had other curves too, all of them screaming for his attention. She’d left him a pretty young girl…she’d come back a heartbreaker. Desire slammed into him, backed up, and did it again, making it hard to form thoughts, much less words. He cleared his throat. “You look…good.”

  Bri slanted a doubtful look at him, but her cheeks took on some color. “Do you always hang on the bell like that?”

  “I didn’t ring the bell.” He tried not to scowl. He’d thought she’d be at least a little happy to see him, despite the circumstances.

  “Yes, you did.” She sounded eager for an excuse to snap at him. She must have felt it too — that sizzle in the air that was making it hard for him to remember simple English.

  “Nope. It’s busted. I just got here when you opened the door.”

  “But—” Bri frowned and reached past him to press the button, which hadn’t worked in years.

  “I heard it ring. Three times.” She kept pressing, a faint blush spreading across her face. “That’s weird.”

  “Not really,” Kean said. “Ce-Ce did that all the time. She always had a place set for me when I came begging for scraps.” Bri’s gran had been the most renowned Oracle in the Northwest. She’d never needed a doorbell to tell her company was coming.

  Bri scoffed as she backed into the hallway. He could tell the memory had touched her. Whether it softened her or just hit a tender spot remained to be seen. She blinked, giving no hint. “Did you want to come in?”

  He stepped into the house, running his hand over his freshly cut hair. Bri stilled under his lingering gaze. Another awkward silence filled the foyer.

  “You really do. Look good, I mean.” Damn. Here she was, a world-class woman, and the best he could come up with was good. He sounded like a backcountry hick and wanted to kick his own ass back onto the porch and start over.

  She dropped her gaze to the floor before letting it drift up his body, darting glances at first, then with more cling. Kean’s heart gave a heavy thud when she bit her lip.

  “You look…bigger.” Confusion flitted across her face, as if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Then she laughed — a delicate, musical sound. His shoulders relaxed.

  “I missed that.” He’d sworn he wouldn’t come on too strong, even if this was the chance he’d begged the Universe for, but with Bri right in front of him, he didn’t care what had brought her back.

  Just don’t screw it up.

  “Missed what?” A hopeful lilt laced her question.

  His plan to go easy sailed out the window.

  “You.” To hell with trying to impress her. It wasn’t poetry, just the truth.

  “I—” Bri’s eyes misted over. “I missed you too.”

  Kean offered his hand, and the world froze for the heartbeat it took Bri to consider. She answered by wrapping her arms around him and tucking her head into his chest. He didn’t know what to say, so he just held her.

  Much too soon, she let go, wiping her eyes. “Sorry. I don’t know where that came from. I guess I’m just glad to see a friendly face.”

  “I’m glad you’re back.”

  She shook her head and led him into the kitchen. “I’m not really back.”

  He stalked in behind her and leaned against the counter, watching her sift through drawers. Her movements were jerky, nervous, not her usual fluid grace. Something was wrong, aside from being flustered by the sight of him.

  She slammed another drawer closed and scratched her head.

  “Third one down on your left.”

  Bri clenched her jaw as she opened it, then set the tea out on the counter and turned on the kettle.

  “Any other odd occurrences, besides the mysterious doorbell incident?” He leaned in her way and pulled two mugs down. Geri hadn’t given him any details, but she’d hinted that the tides of Fate were turning, that Bri would somehow come back into the fold. Her power had been bound since she chose her path at seventeen, but trauma could sometimes bring on a temporary flare of magic. The soul would tap into the grounding force of the Conduit without conscious knowledge. To the untrained, it could be unpredictable, even dangerous. That was one reason he wanted Bri where he could watch over her.

  She circled her fingers around her wrist. That deer-in-the-headlights look came over her again. Spooked. “Well…”

  “What is it?”

  “I saw Ce-Ce and Tara earlier. Not like live spirits, I mean, they weren’t doing anything new…just an echo of my memories. But it was so real. Just stirred me up a bit I guess.”

  “Sounds like a psychic echo.” The Oracle. It made sense that would be Bri’s power. Her bloodline was full of them.

  “You know that’s not possible.” Bri’s calm-and-cool act was fully on, but the flash of fear in her eyes told a different story. The kettle whistled, buying her a small reprieve from his study while she poured.

  “It’s rare, but it happens.” Kean leaned closer and turned her around to face him. He could still see plain as day when she was hiding something. “That’s not all, is it?”

  A shudder gripped her body and she tried to slip away. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

  Kean rubbed her arms gently, holding her in place. He hated to see Bri suffer, but as far as he was concerned, she’d done enough running from Fate. If it had come to find her now, she had to face
it. At least here he could protect her. “You need to tell me.”

  “I had a regression. A strong one.” She looked at the floor between them. “They had been getting better before that.”

  That figured, if her power was flaring. As young children, all Zyne had memories of past lives, but Bri’s nightmares had plagued her well into her teens. Something told him that wasn’t what had her on edge though. He lifted her chin and gazed into her face, but couldn’t see past the defenses she’d built there. “What else?”

  She swallowed and looked away as tears filled her eyes. “Ce-Ce appeared to me. Right after she died, or right before…I don’t know.”

  He let her go and eased back. Precognition, psychic echoes, regressions, and an astral visit? All with her powers bound.

  Holy. Shit. “That’s…a lot to handle.”

  He and Astrid had agreed to evaluate the situation once Bri was home and to tell her about their plan together. But Bri’s powers were already tipping the scales. There was no time to lose. If they were right about the accident, they were going to need Bri to uncover the truth, and she would need them more than ever.

  Bri sat at the table and stared into her mug. “Yes. It is a lot. I can’t believe they’re gone. I think my brain is just refusing to accept it. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

  Kean joined her, wondering how to ease into this as gently as possible. Subtlety was not his forte, but he gritted his teeth and tried. “You’re not crazy. Your power is flaring.”

  She shook her head and sipped her tea. “It can’t be. It’s bound with blood magic.”

  “How would you explain your visions then?”

  She clenched her jaw. “Grief. Survivor’s guilt. Coming back here after so long just brought the memories to the surface.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “And the regression?”

  Bri laughed — not her normal laugh — a little too high and desperate. “Stress. Maybe my meds need to be tweaked. It happened before I even knew about the accident.” She paused for a thoughtful moment, and then nodded into her teacup.

  Kean reached for her arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s more than that, and you damn well know it. You can’t ignore this. Maybe if we release the binding—”

  She set down her cup as if it were delicate crystal and narrowed a glare at him. “I don’t want it released. Haven’t you been paying attention all these years? I don’t want any part of this. I only came here to settle some business. I’m not staying.”

  He stiffened at the thought of her abandoning them again. How could she ignore such an obvious message from the Universe? “You are a part of this whether you like it or not. This is your home, your heritage.”

  She pulled her arm from his grip. “My heritage is gone. The last of my family is burned to ash. There’s nothing for me here.”

  Nothing? He spread his hands on either side of his mug, forcing himself to relax. This wasn’t going how he’d envisioned at all. “What about me? Astrid? Geri? We need you. Don’t you think it’s high time we figure out what the hell is going on with your family? What if there really is a curse?”

  She was already shaking her head before he got the words out. “Don’t you dare talk to me about curses.” She waved her hand in the air by her head as if clearing away cobwebs. “This whole damn thing is a curse. I never asked for it. I’m supposed to have a choice, and this is not the life I’ve chosen.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I shouldn’t have even come back.”

  Bri’s mug broke into shards, exploding from the inside. Hot tea cascaded off the table and into her lap.

  Kean winced. Dammit. He should have better control, but that woman got under his skin like no other.

  Bri leapt out of her chair to brush the beads of liquid from her skirt with shaky hands. “What the hell, Kean!”

  “Sorry.” He took a deep breath and reined himself back in. “You may be too stubborn to see it right now, but you’re in danger, Bri. You need us as much as we need you. More. I can protect you.”

  Bri put the kitchen counter between them, her eyes wide with shock. Astrid was right — as usual — he was the wrong person for this job. A bull in a china shop. His charm was obviously a little rusty. He stood and gulped the rest of his tea in one painful swallow.

  “You’re not hearing me. I can’t do this.”

  “It’s you who doesn’t understand, but that doesn’t change the truth. Your power is a wild card at this point, and if you’re not prepared, it could break you. You’ll have to face that eventually. One way or another.”

  Bri hugged her arms around herself, her expression a thin façade about to crumble any second. His stomach sizzled with bitterness at the thought of how she would reject the comfort he wanted so badly to give her.

  “You should go.”

  He stared at her face, telling his legs to move, but his feet stayed rooted in place. Their gazes met and held, and Bri took in a shaky breath. Behind her tough mask he saw a well of sadness and fear. A phantom ache of her pain blossomed in his chest. Why was she always pushing him away when she needed him the most?

  Kean leaned over the counter, letting the truth fill his eyes. “You turned your back on us, Briana, but no matter what you do, I won’t do the same. I can’t.”

  I won’t let you go this time without a fight.

  Bri’s mask started to crumple. Her face went ghost pale. “Get out.”

  He clenched his jaw, already wishing that for once he’d kept his big mouth shut. He moved toward her, intent on making things right, but she spun away. Her reflection stared from the dark windowpane as she built an invisible wall between them. He had the sense to know pushing anymore tonight would only make it thicker.

  Kean showed himself out, sighing as he stepped off the porch. He started his truck already hearing Astrid’s voice in his head: Way to go, jackass.

  Want to keep reading?

  Purchase Rain of Ash for your Kindle now or add to Goodreads.

  Coming Soon

  Look for my next release September 21, 2015!

  TO TAME A WILD HEART

  A Zyne Legacy Romance

  “When love beckons to you, follow him,

  Though his ways are hard and steep.

  And when his wings enfold you yield to him,

  Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.”

  —Kahlil Gibran

  Nomad and desperado Audrey Taylor has carved a living out of society’s fringe using her supernatural abilities and the wisdom of her truck-driver surrogate mother. Sleeping beneath the open skies and under the radar is all she’s ever needed. But when an ancient council of witches discovers her powers, Audrey is forced to submit to their control or end up stripped of her gifts and her memories. Audrey knows better than to rely on or trust anyone and she’s never worked well with others, so it’s just her luck to be assigned the withdrawn and irritable falconer as her mentor. Even more disturbing is her desire to penetrate his brooding façade and know the man underneath.

  Corvin Wright has dedicated his life to the service of the Synod in the hopes of proving himself worthy of his family name. He values the solace of his duties and finds peace alone among the birds trusted to his keeping, but the Council no longer sees a use for his unique gifts. His sanctuary is in danger unless he can earn his place by babysitting one of the fledgling witches brought to train in the magical arts. The task is more daunting than expected when his assigned student turns out to be wilder and more broken than any creature he’s ever cared for. Her spitfire spirit and dangerous beauty challenge every ideal of the life he thought he wanted, and while Audrey wrestles against her captivity and the bonds of responsibility laid upon her, Corvin searches for a way to tame her wild heart before she breaks his.

  About the Author

  Gwen lives in Seattle with two spider plant clones (Rufus I and Rufus II) and an avocado plant named Alice. When not hiking to hidden waterfalls, perfecting her asanas, taking in a burlesque
show, or otherwise cavorting through the Emerald City, she can be found in her favorite cozy chair sipping tequila and brewing tales of magic, murder, and romance. Visit her on the web at gwenmitchellficiton.com.

  Copyright ©2015 Gwen Mitchell

  Kindle Edition, Revision 3

  ASIN: B00T0S4Z5E

  Publication Date: January 2015

  Cover and book Design by Gwen Mitchell. Cover Models Gretchen Byers (Magikstock) and Jason Aaron Baca. Header images by Spiritsighs.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work is the property of the author and publisher and may not be reproduced in any form without express permission, with the exception of short excerpts for the purpose of reviews.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblence to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication & Gratitude

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Dear Reader

  More from Gwen Mitchell

  Coming Soon

  About the Author

  Copyright

 

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