“Thank you, Goddess.” Aunt Trin bowed her head in deference. Storm startled slightly, she’d never seen her aunt show such respect to anybody – ever. Hm. Maybe death had changed her after all. “Now, could you get your ancient ass in gear and save my niece from her own goddess complex?” Nope. Didn’t change Aunt Trin at all. Might have made her worse, actually.
“Very well, I will gladly get my, what is that you said ‘ancient ass in gear.’ Just remember, Seer, all I do is for Storm because she is my granddaughter.” Damarra narrowed her eyes and half snarled.
“Enough. Please. I love you both, I know you both have my best interests at heart, and I know you don’t particularly care for each other. I do not exactly know why but it does not matter so just stop.” Storm felt rage and frustration building up inside. The world went slantwise and she felt dizzy, her mind foggy with emotion and memories. Storm couldn’t make sense of the jumble, people she’d never met, spells she never cast.
“Storm!” Ryder’s panicked voice pierced through the haze. She felt his hands on her, sliding around her waist and the rage receded, replaced with a much stronger emotion. He spun her around and pulled her in, slanting his mouth over hers, forcing his thoughts into her head. When Ryder withdrew, Storm felt breathless, everybody else forgotten as he stared into her eyes. “Breathe, my love. Come back to me.”
“What happened?” Dammit, now her head hurt. “What in the hell is going on?” She allowed Ryder to help her to the couch, but only because she feared falling over. Something felt wrong. “Seriously, what happened, somebody needs to tell me.”
Ryder
“Your whole body was glowing Storm, brighter than I have ever seen you.” How could he explain what just happened? Did anybody know? Even Damarra seemed shocked, well as shocked as she could look.
Storm frowned, “So? I am getting stronger, and I am pregnant, it only makes sense that I would glow a little brighter.”
“You were not glowing golden, my love.” Ryder formed the image in his head so she could see for herself. All color left her face.
“White? Where did my color go? Damarra?” Her grandmother still stood with Trin whispering quietly. Ryder could not make out a word of it but they did not acknowledge Storm either. Her eyes were wide, full of concern. Sometimes he forgot how innocent his wife really was, how young in relation to him. Ryder reached over and tucked her hair behind her ear, allowing his hand to rest along the side of her face.
“We will work it out, my love. Just breathe. Do not ever leave me like that again.” Ryder loved Lucian as his brother and wanted to help him get his woman back but not at the price of Storm’s life. This entire plan did not seem to be going well. He leaned in and kissed her, lightly at first then deeper. Gods, he wanted her and nobody else for the rest of his days. She tasted sweet and rich all at once. And, miraculously, she carried his child, or rather, children. Storm withdrew and curled up into him. Ryder kissed the crown of her head, inhaling her scent.
“Why is this happening? I just want to help Sophia and Lucian be together. And, I want to be left alone to raise our children in peace. Is that really so much to ask? Dammit!” Storm sat upright again. “I don’t want to sit around planning anymore. This is ridiculous.”
“Storm, you have to relax, you are starting to glow white again.” Ryder noticed the light started in the hand holding the necklace. “Give me the necklace.”
“I can’t.” Storm looked at him, confused and apologetic. “Really, I can’t, it will not leave my hand.”
“Of course not, dear. The magic in the amulet is attracted to your power and it is attempting to bond to you.” Damarra and Trin stood behind them. Ryder looked up into the deity’s face, avoiding Trin at all costs.
“You mean Alva’s spirit is embedding itself into Storm somehow?” Hell. That explained the white glow. “We have to stop it!”
“Very good, Immortal. Glad you are up to speed. Now, what we need to do is extract the mirror from the amulet so we can pull Sophia through to claim Alva’s power. Before you ask, Sophia is the only one other than Elba with the ability to invoke it.” Trin practically sneered. Alright, she definitely was not over the way they left things. Not like he ever had a chance to set it right since she decided to go renegade and get herself killed. Besides, she was the one who lied and spelled him to think he slept with her. Ryder knew he would have to talk to her about it eventually, if things ever calmed down.
“You make it sound so simple, Seer.” Lucian’s words slurred slightly as he finally broke his silence. Hell. How much did Lucian drink? Ryder glanced at Pollux who just shrugged and continued sipping from his own glass, a little too focused on its contents.
Trin’s face actually softened for Lucian. “Please go sober up, I do not wish Sophia to see you in this state. She deserves more.” Trin paused and looked at the antique clock on the mantle, “I would say you have about thirty minutes, give or take. Get it together. The rest of you Immortals had best go with him.”
“I am not leaving Storm.” Ryder glared at Trin.
“Very well, stay if you wish but I will not be responsible for what happens to you if you do.” She looked to Storm, “I would suggest you convince him to go with the others.” Ryder watched their silent exchange with growing irritation and knew he would lose this argument. Sure enough, Storm turned and looked at him, tears brimming her eyes. He kissed them away and nodded.
“Come on Luc, let’s go get you cleaned up for your woman.” Ryder quickly realized his friend hadn’t heard a word. Fabulous. “Pollux, Kell, grab Lucian and take him to his room. I’ll be there in a minute.” Ryder ignored the groans and headed to the kitchen, definitely going to need some coffee for this. As he exited, Pac Man trotted in and straight over to Storm. Sure, the dog gets to stay but he could not.
2009 – Lucian
Standing outside her flat, looking up at the balcony, Lucian regretted their agreement. The pain tore at him almost as deeply as the beast’s fury. It resented him for leaving Sophia and he knew it. He’d been warring with himself and the beast, cold and damp in the misty rain. She’d never sit on her balcony sipping tea in this. The hospice nurse would not allow it. Lucian hated leaving her with them, not that they were uncaring or cold, completely the opposite, but they did not know her. They did not love his Sophia as he had. She loved the cool mists of Seattle and would have reveled in a morning like this.
Lucian could carry her out onto the balcony and settle her on a chaise swaddled in blankets to avoid a chill, just to see her smile. Yes, he needed to go back, needed to take her into the misty morning. Lucian raised his thumb to her bell.
“No, Lucian, let me go.” Sophia’s voice echoed through his head, a reminder of his promise. Damn her pride. He should never have promised. Why did he swear to her? The beast clawed at him. Lucian doubled over in pain and wretched in the bushes. It felt almost as bad as it had in the very beginning, when he first took on the thing, when Morgaine betrayed him. Lucian forced himself to stand. He promised to leave her but he drew the line at giving up on her line. Alva and Elba still lived, still had the power to do what their ancestor had failed to do. Damn them. His path became clear.
2010 – Lucian
The burning kept getting worse. Lucian could not last much longer without help. Hell. Every time he closed in on a witch, the beast would sabotage his attempt. Twice he managed to capture a lesser witch before the Phoenix realized it but both times the beast emerged and killed his captive. Again, he cursed the beast. It hissed and tore at him. They had been going on in this manner for months, the beast gradually wearing Lucian down. No amount of booze, brawling, or banging could stave it off for long. Worse still, the covens were wise to his intentions.
As he wearied, Lucian formed a new plan of action, one that he should have explored in the beginning, but, as they say, hindsight is 20/20. As a Scribe, Trin Sullivan would certainly be aware of his burden, if he could just gain her sympathy she may be willing to help.
Two days later and less than a hundred miles from his destination, Lucian pulled into a nearly deserted truck stop for breakfast. The dilapidated building looked like something out of a backwoods horror movie but smelled like a greasy home cooked breakfast. Sure enough, the three patrons looked to be enjoying massive plates of grease-laden potatoes, bacon, eggs, and whole wheat toast – the daily special. Lucian’s stomach growled as the aroma hit him full blast.
The waitress, an older woman who had clearly spent one too many years serving truckers, barely regarded him as she took his order. She’d been a beauty once, her figure still rather trim in the 1950s style waitress uniform. He smiled warmly; something about her reminded him of Sophia and she looked like she could use some kindness. Sure enough, the waitress met his eye and nodded appreciatively, cracking a small grin in return. A few moments later she laid a folded newspaper on the table beside him.
“Here you go. I thought you might enjoy this morning’s paper with your breakfast, be out in a jiff.” Lucian thanked her though he was not much of a news reader. Normally, he would not have paid much attention but the headline caught his eye. Hell. Not possible. No. Local Antiques Dealer Found Murdered, and beneath it, a large picture black and white picture of Trin Sullivan smiling demurely captioned with her name. Lucian scanned the article, not Ryder’s work, too brutal. The police had few leads but considered it gang related due to the nature of the murder.
“It’s such a shame about Ms. Sullivan. My granddaughter signed up for her class at the university this fall. She was very excited about it. Apparently that Sullivan woman was world renowned. They buried her today and the radio announcer said there were over three hundred cars in her procession. Imagine that, huh?” The smile had clearly done wonders for the waitress. She stood over him with his food in hand beaming warmly. Lucian forced himself to nod in agreement.
“VERA!” A voice thundered from the back, less than pleased.
The waitress frowned, “I’m sorry, I have to go, Earl is really jealous. As if a young man like you would run away with me!” Lucian paid without touching the food and left Vera a little extra.
Trudging back to the car he contemplated the remaining options. Hell. The article said that her estate would be passed on to her estranged niece but did not name her. Ryder would know. His friend had been living in the same town as Trin Sullivan for a few years, studying her for other reasons. Lucian had no other options. It was time to make amends with Ryder. How does one apologize for such a wrong?
Lucian was nearly to the car when the troll jumped out of the bushes and landed on his back. Hell.
Storm
“So how does this work? I mean, I can’t feel her or it or whatever. I feel strange but I can’t pinpoint anything specific.” Damarra and Trin continued to flit around pulling books and ingredients from various points in the room while Angeline worked magic on her head to keep the haziness at bay. Pac Man had curled into ball near her and fell back asleep. She still felt his presence soothing and leaned over to pat his head.
“Hush, let us get things together, just fight the witch off for a bit longer. Cling to your own personality, Storm.” Aunt Trin didn’t even look at her as she spoke.
Storm focused on Angeline’s magical massaging fingers. She wondered how Lucian fared and how Sophia would feel to see him again.
“We are ready. Storm, please sit in the middle of the circle and hold the necklace in front of you.” Damarra gestured to a large circle in front of the fireplace. Angeline helped her up and around Pac Man but the dog jumped up after her. The minute she stepped inside the ring of powder, a shimmering dome appeared over and around her. Pac Man started growling. Angeline knelt beside him whispering in his ear and stroking his ears until he relaxed.
Good thing Pac Man relaxed because Storm felt anything but relaxed, “What the hell? Damarra, what is this?”
“We have to keep you safe and protect ourselves as well. There is no way to know how you will react, dear.” Damarra tested the integrity of the shield and seemed pleased. “Angeline, take the southern point. Trin, stand at the northern point. The west remains open to represent Sophia.”
Storm watched as the others moved into place following Damarra’s lead. She sat cross legged on the floor and stared into the fireplace. A slight flutter in her belly prevented her from drifting away again. Damarra began chanting in the old language, so quickly Storm could barely register the words. The amulet started hopping about in her hand. She tried again to drop it but found the chain firmly attached to her fingers. The amulet grew heavier, pulling away from the chain. Storm held her hand out in front of her and allowed the pendant to drop to the floor, the chain magically extending to accommodate the space differential. It continued to grow though, releasing a good portion from her fingers as it spread into a rectangle. Storm was forced to stand on her tiptoes as the rectangle expanded. The clasp and several links on either side of it remained stuck to her hand. Just when Storm thought her arm would detach from fatigue, the clasp left her with a soft pop. Her weary arm fell and Storm found herself staring at a Soul Mirror, directly into the eyes of Sophia Bedeaux.
“Hello, Emerald.” Sophia’s voice had the far away quality Storm had become accustomed to when speaking with Aunt Trin. She changed her clothes since Storm visited, a pair of jeans and a purple sweatshirt replaced the flowing dress. Sophia looked down and then back at Storm, embarrassment on her face. “I wanted Lucian to recognize me. I, er, well I wore this a lot.”
“Yes, yes. All about Lucian. Let us get on with this. Storm, reach in and pull Sophia out but do not touch the edges of the mirror or the locket. Sophia, when you emerge you will need to pick up the amulet and let it attach to you. It should recapture the mirror and allow you to remain corporeal more permanently.” Damarra’s voice remained flat and even as she delivered the instructions.
Storm reached into the center of the mirror with both hands and grasped Sophia by her wrists. From experiences with Aunt Trin, Storm knew just how much force to exert so they wouldn’t topple over as Sophia emerged. She took two steps backward and exposed Sophia to the elbows. Two more steps allowed Sophia to push a foot out and onto the carpet and then the mirror expelled her completely. She immediately reached down and secured the amulet. It sizzled in Sophia’s grasp and then fell silent.
Present Day – Lucian
“My turn!”
Lucian tried to speak, to yell at whichever Scot had him by the hair but his curses were drowned out by icy water. He did the first thing that came to mind and thrust an elbow into the gut of the unsuspecting Immortal. The hand recoiled from his hair and Lucian backpedalled, breaking free of the water and coughing the excess from his throat.
“What is wrong with you all?” Lucian whirled to find the Scots and Ryder staring at him. Pollux leaned against the counter clutching his gut. He should have known.
“Come on, Luc, we were just trying to wake you up. We have about ten more minutes to make you presentable. Your hair is a fright and you smell like an alehouse.” Kell frowned and looked to Ryder who seemed to be doing an outstanding impersonation of a statue.
“Kell, Pollux go downstairs and wait in the kitchen, or better yet, see if you can track down Roane.” Ryder’s expression didn’t change, no frustration, no amusement, nothing. “Lucian, get in the shower, you have five minutes.” He turned on his heel and walked out.
Lucian took the hint. He’d seen Ryder like this before, best not to press. A shower would be good to clear his mind. Bad memories hung heavy on his conscience. He turned the water on to warm up and sat on the edge of his tub, pushing his soaked hair out of his face.
“I would shower quickly if I were you, Lucian.” Roane emerged from the shadows of his room, not quite stepping into the light of the bathroom. “She has not arrived just yet but she will. Damarra has seen it. You must be ready when they call for the window will be small.”
“Window for what? Roane, what do you know?” A chill trickled down Lucian’s spine. He t
ried to convince himself it was just the cold water.
“More than you, less than some others.” Roane shrugged. “It will work out Lucian but you should know something. Sophia will be altered by all of this, in ways we cannot predict. Will you love her still?”
Lucian searched himself, imagining several possible scenarios, seeking one where he would not know Sophia as his. Every time he saw her, his Sophia. “Yes. I will love her always.”
“Very well. There is a vial on your nightstand. Take your shower, drink the contents of the vial, and come back here. When they are ready, the doors will open. You must enter alone, I will distract the others.” Roane hovered for a moment more, “I feel this will turn out favorably. You deserve much happiness in exchange for the burden you have carried all these years. Good luck.” Roane strode off and Lucian listened for the door to close before hopping in the shower, thoughts of Sophia fogging his mind. He imagined how her hair would smell, her sparkling violet eyes. It would not matter, he would have his woman again, in some capacity.
Storm
“You can let the shield down now, Damarra. They are not going to explode.” Aunt Trin tilted her head to the side, clearly irritated.
“Storm, are you alright, dear? Sophia?” Damarra eyed them, clearly skeptical. Storm and Sophia looked each other up and down, shrugged, and simultaneously nodded to Damarra. She clapped her hands twice and the shield went down. “Trin, I am afraid you are running out of time on this side. We had better get moving if you intend to help.”
“Agreed. Sophia, are you certain about this?” Aunt Trin slid an arm around Sophia’s waist and pulled her close.
Tears brimmed in the witch’s eyes as she nodded. “Yes, I have never been more certain of anything. I want to be with Lucian.”
Aunt Trin seemed less than pleased with the answer but bit her tongue. “Well then, let’s get this party started. Storm, love, the bulk of this will fall on you, it can’t be helped.”
The Storm Sullivan Saga: The Emerald Seer Series Box Set Page 28