The Storm Sullivan Saga: The Emerald Seer Series Box Set

by Violet Patterson

“You are impossible.” The words slipped out and he immediately wanted to take them back. Her stony expression faltered and then anger flared. She raised a glowing hand to strike again, a blow that he would clearly feel. In one fluid motion, Ryder laced his fingers in hers, bent her arm behind her back at the waist and pulled her in to him. She tried to fight but he held her gaze and slanted his mouth over hers, delivering everything he felt in that one kiss. When Ryder withdrew, Storm looked as dazed as he felt. “I love you. I have waited many lifetimes for you. I am sorry.”

  Storm

  And then he left. Damn him. Truly. Damn him to hell. You don’t kiss somebody like that, tell them you love them, and then walk away. He had been with Aunt Trin. How could he be with her aunt and then be with her? She had a million questions and couldn’t be sure whether or not she really wanted the answers. Storm sat down in the middle of the foyer, surrounded by the bodies of her six unconscious attackers and cried. Dan and Shane found her just like that, tear-stained face, shirt soaked, hair a complete disaster.

  “Babe, what happened here? Where is the Immortal? Storm?” Shane knelt and wrapped his big warm arms around her. Dan rounded up the intruders and handcuffed them together with zip line cuffs. Their arrival sent her into a whole different bout of tears.

  Storm calmed slightly when the other officers arrived to take her statement and cart away the would-be attackers. Shane agreed to take the statement himself when she started to cry again. The poor young officer muttered something about shock and let Shane escort her to the kitchen. He made her some tea. She noticed that he acknowledged the bottle of wine and that there were two glasses but said nothing.

  “What happened, babe? You have to give us something. Dan and I can doctor it to cover your powers but we have to say something. There are six big guys completed knocked out in your foyer, to say nothing for the busted window in your bedroom.” Shane set the mug in front of her and sat in the stool opposite her, the one Ryder had been in earlier.

  “Did you know?” The question escaped her lips before she realized what she really wanted to know from Shane.

  “Did I know what, babe? That you were in danger? I told you that.” She looked up at him, poor Shane, clearly perplexed.

  “Did you know about that Immortal, Ryder, and Aunt Trin?” The words tasted sour on her tongue. She wanted to spit his taste out, extract the memories of the dining room from her mind as though they’d never happened. Storm wanted to feel something for Shane, or Dan even. She wanted to love a good man. They were both good men who wanted her. What good were emotions if they just lead you down wrong and painful paths?

  “Yes. I did. I sort of figured that he would work harder to keep you safe for her sake. They ended things some time ago. I am not sure why. He went to her grave, Storm. He cared for her.”

  Storm couldn’t hear anymore. She didn’t want him to care for Trin. She wanted him to care for her. He probably found her to be some poor sad replacement for her almighty aunt. Dammit. How stupid can one person be?

  “Shane?” Storm realized what she had to do, what had to be done to make her alright again. Nobody hunting her, no weird powers, no crazy emotions.

  “What, babe? Ready to talk?”

  “Sure, but first, I need to know if you and Dan can do something huge for me.”

  “Anything, you know that.”

  “I want you to bind my emotions again. You two can’t die, right? I mean, seraphs don’t really die. If you bind them this will all go away forever and I can just be me again, right?” Storm heard the desperation in her tone and fought the urge to cringe. She stood her ground. It had to work.

  “Babe, that’s not the way. Even if we could, we wouldn’t. It would alter your destiny too greatly. Trin should not have done it.” He took a long dreg from his own mug. Shane stared at her, watched her finish the mug of tea in silence. “Storm, babe, what happened here?”

  Shane’s hand on her arm felt warm and real, she looked into his eyes and smiled. “I fell in love, I think. Then I found out he really loved my aunt so I threw him out a window. He and his friend helped me take down the attackers, I thanked them and kicked them out. Happy? Great. Now leave me alone.” She stood and walked out of the kitchen, took the long way around to avoid the dining room, and locked herself in her room.

  Dan and Shane took turns at her door, alternating pleas to let them in. She lay in bed, blankets to her chin, and stared at the wall.

  Ryder

  “Brother, what have you gotten yourself into?” Lucian drove as Ryder tried to readjust his injured arm though he found the realignments difficult to complete correctly in the car. “Would you please let me do that when we get back?”

  “I do not know. This is a mess; possibly the biggest shit storm I have ever kicked up.” Ryder hung his head, giving up on his arm. Breathing still hurt and his legs were going to require re-breaking too. He’d be laid up for at least a day. Good thing Angeline would be at the manor.

  “Ry, what is going on with you and the Seer? And I know those Were-things did not do that to your body. What happened?”

  “I believe I love her, Lucian. I mean, I want her. I had her and it was unlike anything I have ever experienced. She glows. I mean that gold thing she did with her hands; imagine her whole body doing that. She is definitely the Emerald.” Ryder groaned. He sounded like a prepubescent boy after seeing his first smut.

  Lucian did not laugh. “Are you certain she is the Emerald?”

  “Yes. I saw it when we kissed. Somehow.” Ryder hesitated. “I am right though, Lucian, it is not an all or nothing deal. When we, well, when we were together I could see everything. She completely opened a piece of herself to me and I could see everything she is capable of. I am not sure how to describe it to you.” He probably could if he tried but Ryder had no desire to share anymore of Storm than he had to, not even with Lucian.

  “Well, then let’s hope the Seraphs can protect her until we get you well enough to help. I am pretty certain that will not be the last attempt to take her.” Lucian fell silent, his thoughts loud enough for Ryder to pick them up.

  “Yes. We need to know who is sending those things or she will never be safe. I still cannot place their species. They were more than just Weres.” Ryder recalled their scent but still could not place it. In all his years he never met anything like the hybrids. Not a good sign. The mystery third party had upped the ante and discovered, or possibly created, a new species of supernatural.

  “Maybe we should work with the Seraphs?” Lucian pulled into the garage and parked the car. Ryder cast him a warning look and moved awkwardly up the back steps, fighting a groan with each step. Lucian followed him silently to the master suite and shut the door behind them. He flipped through an ESPN magazine while Ryder changed into a pair of boxer briefs for the leg re-breaking. Ryder did not look at his mangled legs, the pain let him know how badly he’d been injured.

  Lucian loomed over him, “Before I do this for you, I need to know what happened.”

  Ryder sighed and closed his eyes, the memory of her face still more painful than any of his physical injuries. “She sent me flying out her bedroom window after realizing I had been with her aunt.” Lucian laughed hard, the deep belly laugh that reminded Ryder of their earlier years. Eventually he joined in. It helped with the pain of re-breaking, and the heaviness in his heart. How would he ever make things right with Storm? How could he make her understand?

  When the re-breaking and setting was done, Lucian set him with some morphine and left mumbling something about finding Angeline. Ryder fell into a restless sleep, dreams of Storm and Trin plagued him, their faces interchanging in grotesque ways.

  Ryder awoke in a cold sweat to Angeline knocking on his door, “My liege, Roane is without requesting to see you. I said you are not well and he refuses to accept that. If you do not present to him in ten minutes he intends to enter your suite. Lucian is trying to pacify him now but he is adamant about speaking with you.”

  “I wil
l be there in five minutes. Thank you, Angeline. Perhaps you and Rosalee should go shopping for a while.” Ryder was not sure what to expect but thought better to have the ladies gone. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and texted Kell and Pollux quickly. His legs felt pretty well, slightly weak but functional. The remnants of morphine still dulled the pain. His arm and ribs were another matter, still quite tender to touch and the arm did not function well. Lucian must have snuck back in to tape his ribs at some point, that was something. Ryder tossed on a thermal shirt to hide the wrapping and pulled on a pair of track pants.

  Kell and Pollux must have opted to stay over at the manor after all because they were already in the study with Lucian and Roane when he entered. Tension filled the air in all directions. Everybody was standing, Lucian’s fists clenching and unclenching at his sides told Ryder all he needed to know.

  “Well, hello, Roane. Welcome to my home. To what do I owe this distinctive pleasure?” Ryder crossed to his desk, settled in the leather executive chair, and propped his feet on the desk. “Kell, how about pouring us all a round of drinks?”

  “Sure thing, Ry. Whiskey sound good to everyone?” Kell was met with silence. “Alright then, scotch it is.” Pollux followed Ryder’s lead and sprawled on the black leather sofa facing the fireplace. Lucian and Roane remained standing, staring each other down with obvious disdain. Ryder hoped his friend’s inner flame stayed hidden. It would not do for Roane to see that side of Lucian.

  “Roane, Lucian, please, make yourselves comfortable. Let us have a friendly talk.” Ryder waited patiently, a jovial grin on his face, as the remaining two Immortals recognized the situation and settled into opposing leather chairs. “Now, what can I do for you today Roane?”

  Tearing his eyes from Lucian, Roane adjusted to Ryder’s presence, his face slightly reddened from whatever interaction he had with Lucian. “We must speak of the Seer. I hear she suffered an attack last evening. I need to know if you ordered the hit.”

  Ryder held his gaze and regulated his tone, “No. I helped save her from the onslaught. I came upon her in the alley after dinner yesterday and saved her from a twisted human. Her protectors became otherwise engaged with the human so I accompanied her home in an effort to determine her power. She went up to shower and the attackers entered. They were unusual, a Were-hybrid of some sort. I called Lucian who helped me dispatch them. We returned here and that is all I know. However, I suspect this means that there is another party seeking the girl.”

  “Indeed. What do you know of the creatures that attacked her? Were-hybrids you say? And who do you believe to be after the Storm Sullivan?” Her name on his tongue drove Ryder mad but he managed to reign in the emotion. Roane held his gaze.

  “I was with her long enough to sense a fair amount of power, perhaps somebody else has picked up on it? She has been gone for years, maybe it is a former flame seeking to reclaim her now that Miss Sullivan has come into a bit of wealth. Who knows?” Ryder worked to sound as nonchalant as possible. “I apologize for the lack of immediate answers, Roane, but I am certain I can gather the information we need within a day or two. I have disbanded the team on her detail and will take over the project myself. In the meantime, I am certain she is quite secure. Storm Sullivan is protected by two seraphs and I doubt they will allow her to leave the grounds until this is resolved. It will be much easier to protect her there.” Ryder refused to break eye contact with Roane. He worked to keep an air of indifference as Roane weighed the information carefully.

  “You have created quite a mess, Ryder. You have forty-eight hours to clean it up and complete your mission with the Sullivans. Should you fail, I have been charged with handling this as I see fit.” Roane stood, brushed his pants off, and adjusted his shirt. “I will leave you to it. Oh, and I will see myself out.”

  Ryder nodded in agreement. Once Roane turned toward the door, Ryder exchanged a significant glance with Pollux who chimed in casually, “Actually, Kell and I were just leaving, we are looking at a rental property on the east side in an hour. Later Lucian, Ryder.”

  Kell nodded and waved as they followed Roane out. Ryder stood and walked to where Lucian sat. He tapped his friend on the shoulder and gestured for them to vacate the study as well. Lucian followed silently down the hall, through a secret passage, into Ryder’s training room.

  “I am going to have the study debugged. We are safe to speak here though. What happened with Roane?”

  “Brother, I loathe that man. He has it in for you. What did you do to piss him off?” The fire flashed behind Lucian’s eyes briefly but receded.

  “I wish I knew. There has always been animosity between him and me. I just thought he felt that way about everyone.” Ryder shrugged, well half shrugged as his arm still did not seem to be functioning normally yet. “I am more worried Storm right now. I have two days to heal myself, figure out who else is hunting her and why they want her.”

  “Brother, have you ever considered that Roane sent those men?” Lucian leaned against the weapons table and casually folded his arms across his chest. “If he hates you so intensely it would make sense for him to discredit you. Roane could press for your exile if he is aware you were intimate with Trin Sullivan.”

  “It has occurred to me, yes. But this is not his style. Those creatures were bred. If Roane had created Were-hybrids the Immortals would have known.” Lucian looked skeptical. “Think about it Lucian, he would need money, resources, and Were infants to carry this out. At the very least, the monks would have noted his absence and you know they are true to the brethren as a collective more so than any individual among us.”

  “That’s true, brother. So Roane did not do this. Who does that leave? Some other supernatural group who managed to piece together that Storm Sullivan is the Emerald?”

  Ryder realized he was pacing again. Lucian just watched him, half a smirk on his face. “You are really keyed up over this girl. What is the deal?”

  Ryder leaned against a dummy. “I really do not know. I do not understand it. I am drawn to her. When we touch it is charged, like the air around us surges with power. That is not quite right either.”

  “Was it ever like that with Jasmine?” Lucian always softened when he mentioned Jasmine. It had been a tender subject for so long that Ryder imagined it had become a programmed response.

  “No. No it was not.” Ryder sighed. “I think I am going to regret this, but I believe you had the right idea when you mentioned working with the seraphs. They have known her since childhood and may have some idea as to who is behind this. Think you would accompany me? Storm may be less likely to kick me out with you present.”

  Lucian found that amusing. In fact, he laughed all the way to Willow Wood.

  Storm

  Fluttering wings? Storm stood on a beach, the ocean waters lapping at her feet, sun warming her skin, and all she could hear were fluttering wings. She didn’t see any birds. The fluttering seemed louder than a fly but she swatted at the air around her ears anyway. Then the ocean receded. The sun disappeared behind a massive storm cloud. Aunt Trin stood beside her.

  “This is a dream.”

  “Yes.” Aunt Trin’s voice seemed to echo across the beach.

  “You are still dead?”

  “Yes. But I am still with you.” Her voice became clearer. She turned to face Storm and smiled that familiar smile. “You are so beautiful, Storm. Your powers are coming along well. I held them off as long as I could.”

  “Who, Aunt Trin? Who did you hold off?” Storm knew she needed this information but the fluttering grew louder and her aunt started to fade.

  “Wake up, Storm.”

  “No, Aunt Trin, don’t leave yet, you have to tell me. Who?”

  “Storm? Storm, wake up, babe.”

  Shane came into focus. His wings flapped gently behind him. Storm blinked several times.

  “Storm, honey, wake up.” Dan’s voice echoed through her head and she opened her eyes fully. Shane knelt beside her bed and Dan stood beh
ind him, both with their wings out.

  “Sorry, babe, but you had the door magically sealed somehow so we had to enter through the window. I will patch that up, at least magically for now, but right now I would love to know how you held that seal in such a deep slumber. We have been trying to wake you for half an hour.” Shane stroked her arm gently, his warmth soothing.

  “I saw Aunt Trin. She tried to warn me. You guys woke me too soon.”

  “Storm, you have been asleep for well over twelve hours. We were worried. Plus, you have some serious explaining to do.” Dan nodded toward the window and frowned down at her.

  “I know. I get it. A lot happened last night but I don’t understand all of it. I found Aunt Trin’s secret room and I intend to go through it later today, but first, I want to go through my studio.” Storm hopped out of bed, right past the brothers and walked to her bedroom door. She wasn’t sure how the spell over the door worked, didn’t really remember casting it, but smiled when she touched the knob and it opened.

  Across the hall in her studio, Storm flicked on the overhead lights, curious as to why it seemed so dark. The wall of windows that looked out over the orchard usually provided excellent light at this time of day. Paintings and photos still covered the easels and every available wall space. The picture windows were all covered with blackout curtains, a new addition since she’d left. Sculptures and all of her old media still covered the shelving units. Everything should have been covered with dust after this long, the paints all dried up. Instead, it appeared that everything had been meticulously cared for in her absence - fresh tubes of paint, unopened packages of charcoals and pastels, brand new brushes and even some blank canvases in various sizes. Storm sighed. A tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek. Aunt Trin knew she’d return.

  Storm walked from easel to easel, running her fingers along each piece. Something else was different, some of the pictures were older and she noticed that some of the easels had been shifted. Storm could not find rhyme or reason to the changes and in the end chalked them up to whatever cleaning had been done. Trin wanted her to see the studio and know she’d been missed, that had to be it.