by Hettie Ivers
I knew I should just shut up and leave Kai alone. I’d been attempting to engage him for the past hour, and he clearly didn’t want to talk. But I needed distraction. A diversion from the countless faceless, evil supernatural strangers I kept imagining trampling through my inner consciousness over the course of the past three to four months.
Something to focus on other than the fact that Remy was at present invading my best friend’s mind. In my own home. With my reluctant consent. While I waited anxiously outside on my front stoop with Kai. I was no better than the Salvatellas.
“Breathing reminds me of Maribel.”
I swallowed. Nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.”
I twisted my fingers together in my lap. The cool, late summer night air was beginning to chill me. Or maybe it was just the chill that had settled over my heart.
After repairing the damage done to my Whole Foods as well as to the minds of the many patrons impacted by our little supernatural blowout that afternoon, Alex had teleported back to Brazil to check on Alessandra. He’d been gone less than five hours, and already I found that I missed him. Terribly. Irrationally. And he wasn’t expected to return until morning.
At Kai and Remy’s insistence, Alex had grudgingly unblocked Alcaeus from my mind before he’d departed. Remy’s hypothesis seemed to have been correct, because within hours of Alex unblocking him, Alcaeus was back to acting like himself again. Mostly. He still seemed very much on edge, but he was no longer taking it out on everyone around him. And he’d apologized to me at least ten times for behaving like an asshole before.
He’d done so again just before heading out several hours earlier in my Tesla, announcing that he needed to make a quick trip into San Francisco. I sensed Kai didn’t quite approve of whatever covert engagement Alcaeus was rushing off to at such a late hour, but beyond reminding Alcaeus that he was supposed to be watching over me in Alex’s absence, he seemed too tired to argue the point further with his friend and sometime Alpha. And so with his typical cavalier flair, Alcaeus had apologized, begged me to try and not miss him too much, and promised Kai that he’d be back in time to read us both a bedtime story.
In the meantime, Remy was busy tinkering around inside of Bethany’s head, attempting to fashion some form of emotional shield. Remy had explained that Gabriel accessed and manipulated minds through emotions, which made him infinitely more difficult to block, as his abilities rendered the standard mental shields that Alcaeus and Alex were used to casting virtually useless. Remy’s plan was to erect similar emotional blocks within my own mind, but Alex had forbidden him from doing so until he returned and could be present for the process.
Kai and Remy had convinced me that Bethany’s mind provided the ideal test case in the interim, because as Kai explained, Bethany’s emotions ran the full gamut and peaked at random extremes that didn’t seem to adhere to any identifiable pattern or logical construct. And Remy indicated that the more turbulent and erratic, the more illogical and unsound a being’s emotions were, the more complicated it became to establish solid emotional shields against penetration of inner consciousness.
It was a testament to just how desperate I was and how low I’d sunk that I’d allowed them to talk me into going along with it. That, and the fact that Bethany seemed so smitten with Remy and eager to spend time with him. I rationalized to my conscience that it was for her own good, just in case those Salvatella fuckers ever came traipsing through town again looking for an innocent brain to pick.
Remy had been at it for over an hour already, and I was feeling increasingly guilty and uneasy about the whole situation, even though Remy had sworn a solemn oath to keep his hands to himself and behave like a perfect gentleman with Bethany. Which brought me back to my need for a distraction, and back to my indefatigable curiosity about the fascinatingly flawless Maribel.
Don’t ask it. Don’t ask it. Don’t ask …
“What was she like?”
More silence. Kai leaned back onto his elbows next to me, letting his head fall back so that he was staring up at the smattering of stars above.
“She made the world seem redeemable.”
I bit my lip and nodded awkwardly. I’d been prepared to hear another “perfect” or “utterly beautiful” or “wildly gifted.” The depiction that had rolled off Kai’s tongue was so much worse.
“She made hope worth having. Life worth risking.”
When would I learn to stop asking about Maribel? That line of questioning never went well for me. Hugging my knees into my chest for warmth, I made a study of my bare toes as I felt the weight of all that was wrong with the world descending upon my shoulders.
“You remind me of her.”
Huh? Turning my cheek to rest upon my knees, I looked back over my shoulder at Kai.
“Me? Maribel?”
“In certain respects,” he amended, tearing his gaze from the stars to meet mine.
“How?”
“How you’re so quick to forgive, your propensity for seeing the good in people, your burning desire for justice. The way you’re wired to always do the right thing.”
“Really?” I squeaked, blushing profusely in the moonlight.
Kai’s lips split into a grin, exposing his gleaming white teeth for the first time in a long while. “Really.”
Kai had a smile that transformed his whole face, offering a glimpse into the depth of beauty and emotion he normally kept hidden behind an apathetic façade. It seemed so unfair that he didn’t smile more often.
“Will you tell me why you don’t like to teleport?”
His smile vanished, and I instantly regretted pressing him. “I’m sorry; you don’t have to—”
“The last time Maribel ever teleported, she didn’t make it back. Well … her body made it back. Her spirit didn’t. Not in time at least.”
In time? “She died … teleporting?”
“Yes.” He sat upright, drawing his legs up and draping his forearms over his knees. “There was an unfortunate surprise attack in Madrid. Alex and Lessa were both critically wounded in a massive explosion that decimated almost an entire city block. Neither was strong enough to teleport, but Maribel was able to get to them and teleport both of them back to Brazil safely.”
He spoke matter-of-factly, as if stating historical events that he himself held no emotional attachment to, and I marveled at how he could go from describing his deceased mate in such romantic, idyllic terms to imparting the circumstances of her demise as if he were reporting old news. “Gabriel’s older brother, Nuriel, was behind that particular little incursion.”
“Why … why didn’t Maribel make it back safely … if Alex and Lessa did?”
He shook his head, staring out at the small, square patch of space that was my front yard. “We never quite figured that out. Both Lessa and Alex rematerialized nineteen minutes before she did. When she didn’t immediately return with them, we assumed she’d simply guided them ahead and went back to search for remaining survivors. But we’re fairly certain Nuriel or Gabriel did something to … confuse her … throw her off course during the rematerialization phase and keep her separated from her body long enough to … well, long enough.”
I wasn’t sure I fully understood what he meant by keeping her separated from her body, but then, I didn’t pretend to understand the whole teleportation process to begin with.
“That’s horrible, Kai. I’m really sorry.”
“I was so positive I’d died along with her,” he offered up. “It sure felt like I’d died. But then a week later, I was still here. And then another week passed. And another.” He dropped his head forward and scrubbed his fingers roughly through his hair, digging them into his scalp. “Then I discovered I could teleport.” He laughed mirthlessly. “Because living without Maribel wasn’t torture enough. I had to inherit her ability that got her killed.”
I reached out and placed a tentative hand on his back, not knowing what to do to comfort him. The eyes he turned on me we
re wild, half-shifted into their iridescent, pale blue wolf color. My breath caught, and I almost shrank back at the swirling intensity of raw emotion I saw there.
“And each time I teleport …” he continued, his voice hollow, gruff, “which, granted, has only been twenty-six times in the past ninety-eight years, I feel her, Milena. Sometimes I swear to God I can see her,” he confessed. “It’s like her energy is still there … floating out in the ether. But I can’t touch her. I can’t fucking have her! And it makes me want to tear my heart out and dice it into tiny pieces. Because I’m sure that would feel better than this fucking fate feels.”
Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I should’ve left this one alone! I was an asshole for pushing him to talk about it.
“I—fuck, I’m sorry,” I stammered, at an utter loss for words. “I’m so very sorry, Kai. Really. I didn’t mean to … I just …” Oh, fuck it all. “What if—I mean, is it—that—possible? Could she still be out there somehow?” As soon as I asked it, I wanted to slap my hand over my mouth and take it back.
“No. It’s not,” he abruptly rejected. “She died in my arms. I felt her heart as it stopped beating. Believe me, I considered that impossibility only a million times in the first fifty years or so after her death. Spent the first few decades researching, hanging onto any pitiful shred of hope I could procure. I’ve spoken to every clairvoyant, every single soothsayer and oracle worth consulting. Even ones not worth consulting.”
He covered his face with his hands and breathed deeply, containing himself. “Alex and Lessa have never once seen her when they’ve teleported. It’s only me. It’s only in my cursed head. Lessa thinks I’m half-mad and it’s my own guilty conscience for surviving Maribel’s death that conjures her memory so vividly. She’s probably right.”
I knew there were no words to console what was inconsolable, to allay the devastation of a loss that was irreplaceable. So for the second time that day, I simply threw my arms around Kai and hugged him for all it was worth.
* * *
Alcaeus didn’t make it back from San Francisco before bedtime. But I didn’t mind. I was too exhausted to wait up. Kai made me a cup of tea and saw me off to bed after I helped get him set up in my mom’s bedroom.
It was weird knowing that a man was going to be sleeping in my mom’s bed—improper somehow. I was pretty certain Kai was about to be the first man to ever sleep in that bed. I reasoned that it was okay, because it was Kai. And because he’d been celibate for about 70 years longer than my mother had.
Remy and Bethany were still seated on my living room couch, chatting away in hushed voices, as Kai and I headed upstairs to turn in. While I didn’t know much about how the whole process of establishing an emotional shield worked, it sure didn’t look like Remy was doing anything but listening attentively to my best friend.
When I caught part of their conversation and realized they were engrossed in a rather intimate discussion about the death of Bethany’s baby brother, I felt like the world’s worst friend, because it occurred to me that I’d all but forgotten Bethany had ever had a brother. She hardly spoke of him. Not ever, actually. And I’d never known him, as he’d died at thirteen months when Bethany was not yet four years old herself. In fact, I was forced to acknowledge that despite all of my ongoing complaining and bemoaning the loss of my brother Raul to Bethany over the years, never once had Bethany brought up the loss of her little brother Evan to me.
The realization made me feel inordinately selfish. And left out. Because she was sharing with Remy what she’d never shared with me. Which only pointed back to the fact that I was selfish for feeling left out and making it all about me! It was amid this disturbing circular rumination and self-flagellation, as well as ongoing thoughts of missing Alex’s touch and warmth next to me, that I finally drifted off.
CHAPTER NINE
In sleep, I found myself back in the redwood groves of Big Basin. It was daylight, and the giant redwoods I loved so much looked glorious with the sunlight streaming down through their branches to light my path along the forest floor. I should’ve felt elated to be back in my favorite sanctuary. But this time my surroundings immediately filled me with dread. Because I sensed right away that I wasn’t alone.
I closed my eyes a moment and listened carefully to the rustling of leaves, to the wind changing direction. I tried to stem my panic as I caught the sound of footfall upon the leaf litter. When I reopened my eyes, Raul was there, stomping along the trail in my direction, his new massive frame even more hulking and intimidating in broad daylight. He looked angry, his features set in a grim line. Angrier than the last time we’d met in this same forest.
Suddenly, I wanted Alex. And I found myself unconsciously reaching out to him in my mind, hoping for a link and longing to feel our connection—yearning for his Alpha energy. The revelation that I might now trust Alex more than I did my own brother made tears pool in my eyes.
He was still my brother, I reminded myself. He still looked like my brother. And yet not like my brother.
Unlike the last time, he didn’t rush to hug me as he drew nearer. He simply came to a stop in front of me, looking down upon me with guarded eyes—as if I were the one who couldn’t be trusted. But beyond the ire and suspicion, his hooded gaze sheltered an immeasurable amount of pain and inner turmoil that was jarring.
“Don’t do this to me, Miles.” His voice was strained, his eyes quietly desperate, pleading.
I shook my head, my stomach falling through the forest floor at the devastated, knowing look I saw in his eyes.
“Raul, I don’t—don’t know what you’re talking about. What am I doing?”
But I did know. And I knew he knew. Because even in my dream state I could smell Alex’s scent on my bed sheets. On me. Inside of me.
“Alex.”
I had no response to his faintly whispered, one-word accusation. There was no answer that would help. Nothing I could say that wouldn’t incense him. So I took the offensive.
“Where’s Gabriel?” I knew he wasn’t alone. Felt it in my gut.
“How could you, Miles?” His tone was rife with censure. Condemnation. Revulsion. “How could you? My own sister?”
I swallowed my breaking heart. Blinked back tears. Did my best to tamp down the instantaneous guilt that flooded my senses and stained my cheeks.
Stay calm. Stay calm and don’t provoke him.
“Raul … I haven’t … haven’t done anything wrong. Please, can’t we just talk alone? Why does he have to be with you? I told you I wouldn’t talk to you with that demon inside my head.”
“Damnit, Gabriel’s not a demon!” he exploded.
So much for not triggering him.
“How could you be so blind, Miles? So ignorant of the evidence right in fucking front of you? How in God’s name could you let that fucking snake touch you?” he raged, whipping around and felling a whole tree with one whack of his forearm. “My own damn sister!”
I jumped and stumbled backward as the ground quaked beneath me, my eyes flying wide at his display of violence. This was not my brother.
His eyes flashed yellow, bright as the sun in their damning intensity. “What the hell would Aunt Cely think of you right now, huh?” he scorned, letting his inner animal out of its cage. “You should be glad she’s not around anymore to know about what you’ve done.”
I had my own inner animal. And she was pissed.
“Not aunt!” I screamed back, charging right up in his furious face. “Mother! She was my mother, Raul. And she would’ve understood. She would’ve trusted me. She would’ve respected my decision. Because she knew I wasn’t a fucking child anymore. And I haven’t done anything wrong!”
He laughed. Bitterly. “Right. I’m sorry; you’re right. So right.” He held his hands up in mock assent. “Aunt Cely probably would’ve understood and respected any idiotic fucking decision you ever made. How could I forget? That’s how it always worked for the golden child … for the heart of the fated blood curse. No exc
eption was too unreasonable, no sacrifice too great to protect the blessed vessel.” He grabbed me roughly by the shoulders when I made to back away again, his eyes narrowing with contempt. “Tell me, what’s that feel like, huh?”
Fuck. Where was Alcaeus? Couldn’t he sense my distress? Kai? Remy?
“What’s it like, sis? To be the center of the fucking universe? To have everyone go out of their way to rearrange their lives for yours? How does it feel to know that my mother—your real mother—sacrificed her very life so that you could throw away yours being a whore for my greatest enemy?”
That one hurt. Badly. Like he’d just run a burning poker straight through my breaking heart. But this wasn’t my brother. He wasn’t himself.
“A man who tortured and nearly killed me?” he indicted, giving me a stern shake. “Fuck, what’s it feel like to know that mom chose you—an unborn baby she would never lay eyes on—over her eight-year-old son? Chose you right in front of me and then just left me all alone in the world to watch her die?”
Even as his words battered me, as the deep-seated loathing that fired from his eyes tore me down inside, I knew this wasn’t him. My brother would never have said such things. He wouldn’t have. I had to keep reminding myself of that. He wasn’t himself. He wasn’t himself …
As I let the tears fall, I prayed he might shake me hard enough that I could wake up from this nightmare. But he ceased shaking me almost as quickly as that hope was born, cursing and moving on to uprooting more innocent dream trees.
“Don’t you dare do this to me, Miles,” he ranted. “Goddamn you, don’t you dare pick Alex over me.” He looked to be on the brink of going stark raving berserk as he smashed his fist into tree after tree until the ground rocked and I had to dive for cover a couple of times to avoid the large pieces of branch that flew through the air. He seemed determined to shred the forest apart.
“Raul, please, just stop it.”
“I deserve better than this from you, of all fucking people!” he roared. “Don’t you fucking dare put me last like everyone else.”