“If you have a better idea then please, by all means try it out but we figure there are less than six hours until sunset and if we don’t have Storm claim these allies before that happens then we will more than likely lose them. We are running out of time and we all know it.” Shane seethed but appeared to be holding his own magic at bay. “We love her too, Immortal. Never forget that we loved her first. She is a sister to us and that bond is not easily put aside.”
Lucian had to concede that point though he didn’t have to like it. “Fine. But I am the one telling him. He might rip your precious wings off if you take this to him now.” He didn’t wait for an answer, just grabbed a handful of bacon slices and stalked out of the kitchen.
Storm
Her entire body ached. She vaguely recognized what was going on around her but half of her mind continued to process where she was. Disconnected. That was how she felt. Blinking her eyes, Storm worked to focus on her whereabouts. She fell asleep on the couch? What had she gotten into the night before? Dan and Shane. It had to be their idea. Probably some stupid club somewhere. Storm pushed herself up to a seated position, the room wasn’t spinning but her head ached. When she finally was able to focus on her living room she cringed, what a mess! Had they partied there? Empty liquor bottles, pizza boxes, candy wrappers, and the TV on some Evangelist preaching about the good word. Storm groaned and threw a pillow at the TV. Where was the remote? The guys were absolutely coming over to clean this place up.
“PacMan? Where are you boy?” He didn’t come trotting in. She didn’t even hear his chains. Storm pushed off the couch, her knees cracked followed by her spine as she stretched upward. She didn’t even want to look at the kitchen. Storm made her way down the hall stepping over piles of clothes and more pizza boxes. She had someplace to be. What was she supposed to be doing again? Stumbling into her bedroom, Storm called out for PacMan again but received no response. She pushed open the bathroom door to see if he was hiding there but found nothing. Maybe the guys took him? But why would they do that? Storm felt panic build up in her chest, she couldn’t be without PacMan.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Storm went back into the bedroom, now seeking her phone.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
She tossed aside a few shirts, a magazine, jeans, and a pair of panties before finding her cell. The screen said “Whiskey Mystics, 10am.” That’s right. Must be meeting Cassandra and that’s what she was thinking of. Looking at the time on her phone, Storm realized she didn’t have time to shower so she threw on some clean clothes, pulled her hair back in a loose ponytail and made it back to the bathroom to brush her teeth. A post-it note on the mirror said “PacMan 2pm Pam’s Puppy Playroom.” Storm put the note in her back pocket and ran the toothbrush over her teeth. No toothpaste? She needed to hit the store and clean up her house. Storm hadn’t been so messy since her awkward teen years. Shaking off the peculiarity of the situation, Storm sauntered out to her VW Beetle and slid in the driver’s side. Okay, plan of attack, head to Whiskey Mystics to see what was up there and then to Pam’s Puppy Playroom for PacMan. She really needed some coffee to get back on track for the day. And, she needed to stop talking to herself.
The drive to Whiskey Mystics went surprisingly well as she blew through all of the stoplights. That had to be a first. Storm slipped out of the car and pushed into an entirely empty Whiskey Mystics. Another first. Cass was standing at the counter casually flipping through a magazine – her usual. “Where are your sisters, Cass? Making you hold down the fort?”
“Bloody hell, Storm!” Cass looked surprised to see her. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be sleeping off last night still.”
“We had plans today, right?” Now it was Storm’s turn to be confused. Was her phone wrong?
“Well, yeah, we were going to get manis and pedis but after last night I figured you weren’t going to make it.” Cass set down her magazine and smiled broadly, “How about I make us mochas and we can head out?”
“Yeah, sure, and maybe you can fill me in on last night. It’s kind of a blur.” Storm leaned on the counter.
“I cannot imagine why?” Cass smirked as the espresso machine whirred to life and made Storm’s head pound even harder. She should have medicated before she left. Cass laughed, “I wish you could see yourself, Storm. You are so hung over.”
“My head hurts, yeah, but I don’t feel hung over, Cass.” Storm thought about it. Her stomach wasn’t in knots and her entire body ached, not just her head. This was not a hangover, not at all.
Cassandra frowned. “Maybe I should just give you the hangover cure and send you back home to sleep it off?”
“Nah, I need to relax. Mocha me and I will be right as rain.” Storm righted herself and forced a smile.
“If you say so, Storm.” Cass shrugged and squeezed some chocolate in the cup.
“What are you doing?” Storm had never seen her friend make a mocha like this.
“What do you mean? I’m making your mocha?” Cass seemed confused.
“You never put the chocolate in the cup before the espresso. You said that’s your secret.” Storm had seen Cass make enough mochas to know when something was off. Even her movements lacked their usual supernatural fluidity. “What’s going on here, Cass?”
“I don’t know what you mean, Storm. Honestly, maybe you should just take some medicine and go back to bed.” Cass reached into her pocket and pulled out a vial. It looked familiar to Storm but she couldn’t figure out why. She knew for sure that it was not the Whiskey Mystics hangover cure.
“That’s not your hangover cure. What’s going on here, Cass?” Storm backed away from the counter.
“Nothing, Storm. What is wrong with you? This is a new batch, that’s all. It’s the hangover cure. I swear, now just take it and go home. I will reschedule our appointments for-“
“No. This isn’t right.” Storm backed toward the door. “I don’t want that. That is not your hangover cure. I know it isn’t.” Something broke through her mind, a memory from another time or place. A man. A beautiful man. Everything came flooding back with his face. Ryder. Her husband. This was wrong, it wasn’t real. Storm closed her eyes tightly and pictured something else, visualized a safe place. She opened her eyes and found darkness. Nothing but darkness. Another trick by the Unseen?
She remembered now, everything, who she really was, Ryder, the girls. Storm knew she had to get back, she had to warn everybody and most of all, she had to protect them. So much became clear though all she could physically see was blackness. Had he blinded her? Storm tried to move and found it surprisingly easy though incredibly painful. She blinked several times but still saw nothing as if she’d fallen into a void. Reaching her hands out, Storm felt around her but again came up empty, as if she existed in nothing. The ground beneath her wasn’t hard or soft, warm or cold, it was truly the absence of anything. Storm began to panic. Her head pounded. For a moment Storm swore she heard Ryder calling for her and the babes crying.
Laughter rang out through the darkness, a menacing, gruesome sound. Storm’s heart fell. Of course.
“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” The lights came on and Storm found herself sitting in the middle of the warehouse where she’d defeated her father. Her nemesis opted for a rather classy black suit with a crimson shirt topped off with a black tie. He looked substantially slimmer lounging casually against the table of weapons that her father had attempted to use on Ryder. But, Storm knew the whole place had been demolished. Dorian had seen to that.
“This isn’t real either.” Storm stretched and pretended to crack her neck. If this wasn’t real she could will away the pain, right? Storm closed her eyes and imagined the pain diminishing. She forced the power through her limbs and up into her head. The pain subsided allowing Storm to find her focus again.
“Impressive. Perhaps we should have done this sooner. You learn so quickly.” The man, well the personification of the Unseen, nodded appreciatively. “It w
as very rude of you to use your power on me. I wouldn’t do that again.”
Storm felt her strength growing with her confidence. This was all in her head, right? She just needed to take control back and expel him from her mind. “I would apologize but I don’t like to lie.” Storm looked around. “I think we need a change of scenery.” She imagined a white sandy beach with crystal blue waves lapping at the shores and a line of palm trees as far as the eye could see. Storm filled in the details, some seagulls, a few comfortable lounge chairs, and a table with an umbrella drink. Sure enough, the drab meat packing plant melted away and was replaced with her scene. “Much better.”
A flicker of doubt crossed over her counterpart’s face. “So much for the trip down memory lane. I thought you’d like to replay some of your finer moments. It sometimes helps to recall your past and avoid making the same mistakes twice.”
“Nah, I’ve always been more of a forward-thinking gal.” Storm settled into the lounge chair. “So, how does this play out? I mean, you and I are enemies engaged in what I can only guess is an epic battle. Do you really want to play it out here in my head? How did you even get in?”
“Now, I can’t go telling all of my secrets.” The man altered himself accordingly and now sported a pair of black swim trunks and stylish shades as he lounged in the seat beside her. “Naturally, I had to meet you, had to speak with the girl who was prophesied to destroy me. I’ve watched you grow, nothing particularly special until you became interesting and ran. Tell me, Storm Sullivan, why did you run from your aunt’s protection? Why would one such as you leave the safety of only place I could not touch you?”
Storm took a long sip of her imagined umbrella drink. “You don’t know? I thought you were all powerful or all-knowing or something? No?” Storm looked out over the water, stalling and buying time to figure out what exactly was happening. She sighed and gave him what he asked. “I saw my own death.”
“Ah. Yes, I can see how that would be problematic.” The man nodded along, staring out over the water as if mirroring her movements.
“It did not happen though. I changed my destiny.” Storm lazily sipped at her drink, forcing the most nonchalant airs she could give off.
“That is impossible. Destinies do not change, that is their purpose.” Again, the Unseen seemed to falter, his confidence cracking just a bit. “How did you die in your vision?”
“Now see, I am not going to give away all of my secrets either.” Storm set her glass on the table and soaked in the imaginary sun. “It changed. I saw more, embraced new paths and I changed it all. I am the Emerald.” Storm stood and stretched. “I’m getting bored now. How about I go back to my corner and you to yours and we have this battle for the ages?”
“Is there no end to your uncouth behavior?” The man turned his gaze on her, lowered his shades to the tip of his nose so she could see the burning red pupils behind them. “Really, I expected more. Your father was much easier to work with.”
Storm ignored the comment about her father and fired back at him. “Because hijacking somebody’s mind is not at all rude.” The man pursed his thin red lips together and flushed with fury.
“Enough.” The man was suddenly standing and Storm found herself displaced, facing her enemy in the midst of a chilly field with rolling hills all around them. “Prefer this? The land where you hail from?”
“I hail from Willow Wood.” Storm found some measure of comfort in her childish though obviously effective retorts. “You really are boring. I expected a good deal more from the all-powerful and terribly frightful Unseen.” That might have pushed him a touch too far. Storm choked back her horror as the physical form of the Unseen folded into itself, disappeared into a cloud and grew to three times its former size, billowing into the space between them. In the middle of the cloud were those two bright crimson pupils. As the tendrils of smoke rippled through the air toward her, Storm heard a scratching, eerie voice in her head.
“Is this better, girl? Is this what you expected? Now will you cower before me and succumb?” The tendrils tickled at her bare feet and burned her shins with their surprisingly icy touch.
“Really? That’s all you’ve got?” Storm suppressed her blossoming fear and stared directly into the pupils, refusing to cringe from the smoke. “Your witch gave a better show and I ended her easily enough. Let’s do this. No games, no smoke and mirrors, let’s meet outside Willow Wood, you versus me for the whole world to see.”
The smoke withdrew. It rumbled and shrunk, whirling around in a funnel cloud before exploding into millions of hail balls that just missed hitting Storm. The man returned, walking toward her looking thoughtful as if contemplating her proposal. “You are an enigma, Storm Sullivan. I felt your fear yet you did not cower as your ancestors did. I invade your mind and manipulate your thoughts but you continue to mock me as though I cannot cause you pain. What are you really?”
Storm closed her eyes, continuing to feel for him with her other senses, wondering if he would strike at her in this vulnerable state. Her enemy did not disappoint. He came at her with flaming blades as if to strike her down. Storm opened her eyes, glared at the flying form and spun to the side. The blades imbedded in the ground where she’d just been standing. The man shrieked with rage. His head whipped around to find her, the blazing eyes fierce. “Succumb to me, girl. End this now before I destroy those you love.”
“Not a chance. I will end you first. I swear it.” Storm squared her shoulders and stared him down. She held strong under his glare, daring him to make a move while preparing her own defense.
“You cannot win this.” The man’s face turned a shade or two redder. He scowled and snapped his fingers. Storm fell into darkness again.
Ryder
One of the babes was crying down the hall but he could not bear to leave Storm. What if she woke for a moment and he missed it? If she came around and gave a clue of any kind he had to be there to receive it. He could not do this without her. He did not want to.
“Go to the babes, Ryder. I will watch over her.” The ghostly form of Trin Sullivan spoke from somewhere behind him. He shivered at the chill she brought with her.
“No. Sophia –“ Ryder felt her hand on his shoulder. He craned his neck to face her.
“Sophia is resting. You need to go to your daughters. I promise, I will be here.” Trin materialized, her sorrowful expression tore at his heart.
Ryder hung his head, focusing on Storm’s limp hand. “I cannot leave her. You cannot ask me to.”
“I can and I am fairly certain that Storm would want the girls cared for.” Trin shifted, backing around the bed to the far side and sliding up beside Storm. She stroked the auburn locks so similar to her own and studied Ryder. He hated when she did that, her eyes roving over him as if seeing through him. “They are a part of her. I have been thinking outside the box. Perhaps we should bring the girls in here and keep them close to her. Maybe they can reach her?” Trin continued to absentmindedly stroke Storm’s locks. The cries from the nursery grew louder. Ryder’s heart tore in two.
“Ryder?” Lucian slipped into the room looking grim.
Ryder inclined his head in acknowledgement. “I was just telling Trin that I cannot leave Storm. Would you mind checking on the girls?” Ryder met Trin’s eye. She was right. They had not tried bringing the girls around. Hell, he was willing to try anything at this point. “Better yet, Luc, will you help me bring the girls in here?” Trin nodded respectfully and scooted closer to Storm.
“I will watch her, I promise.” Trin nodded toward the closet where her soul mirror sat. “The other side is very still since the attacks ceased, it will not reclaim me as soon.”
Ryder forced himself to stand and follow Lucian out the door, down the hall into his daughters’ nursery. Both babes were clothed in simple white one piece body suits of some sort. Sophia kept telling him they were called ‘onesies’ but he thought that sounded awful. Both girls had Storm’s hair color, lovely auburn tufts of fine hair on their
heads. Ember’s face was contorted in rage as her tiny fists swung clumsily through the air. Autumn lay silently contemplating the mobile over her bed, her newborn eyes blinking lazily. Ryder stood between their cribs and reached for Ember, pulling her close to his body as carefully as he could, cradling her neck and marveling at her tiny features. Lucian wrapped Autumn in his massive hands, more gentle than Ryder had ever seen him.
“They are beautiful, brother. Sophia says they are big for twins and more developed than they should be for Storm being so early.” Lucian smiled down at Autumn and for an instant, Ryder thought he was going to coo at her. “You are beautiful, aren’t you young one?”
Ryder lost it. He burst into a fit of laughter that startled Ember into silence. She seemed to look at him and for the first time he realized that Ember had Damarra’s whirling eyes. It made him wonder about other things. What would the girls be like?
“Do not laugh at me, brother. You should be talking to your girls like this. You should be coddling them and cherishing them. We are not supposed to be able to have children and you have been blessed with two. Everybody in this house has been up here ogling over these babes. Sophia and the witchling have been in the nursery every hour on the hour.” Lucian exhaled. “Sorry, brother, I know you are worried about Storm and I get it. We all are and it is getting more critical than ever to wake her, but we cannot lose sight of what she would want. Storm is strong, very strong, and she is not going to give up without a fight. She’ll come out of it and when she does, these two babes had better be healthy and happy and loved or you will have a whole different kind of war on your hands.”
The Storm Sullivan Saga: The Emerald Seer Series Box Set Page 59