Ryder continued to silently pile food on the plate in his hand. Angeline noticed how drawn his face looked, the deep circles under his eyes that had never been there before. An uneasy silence settled over the room, the three of them avoiding each other’s gaze like the plague until Angeline couldn’t take it anymore.
“So she really is awake and well?” Angeline pressed Ryder and when he didn’t answer she laid a hand on his arm to force his attention on her.
Though he answered her, Ryder continued to focus on the plate in his hand. “Yes, she’s awake, showered, and ready to eat. She’ll be down soon enough.”
“And?” Angeline couldn’t take it, what wasn’t he saying? “What aren’t you telling me? There is something, I can tell, Ryder.”
Ryder frowned and finally looked up, frustration and concern etched on his face. He exhaled and ran a hand through his wet hair. “She can only speak in an ancient language right now.”
“What!?” Angeline clapped a hand over her mouth. Her exclamation had come out a lot louder than she intended.
“Storm can only speak in an ancient language.” Ryder spoke slowly, deliberately, and quietly. Pollux stopped eating and stared at his friend.
“How is she going to tell us what happened to her?” Angeline began to pace. “This is bad.”
“It is not as bad as it seems. Damarra and Roane can understand her and apparently it will improve with time.” Ryder sauntered over to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. The pot wasn’t on so it had to be cold. He didn’t seem to care as he gulped it down, staring into the distance.
“Okay, so exactly how long will it take to wear off?” Angeline leaned against the counter and took another drink of her beer.
“I do not know.” Ryder leaned against the counter. “This coffee is terrible.”
“It’s old, Ryder.” Angeline hated when he did that. “Don’t change the subject. How are we going to explain her sudden speech difficulties without letting on that she was in a mystical coma?”
“I am working on that.” Ryder set the coffee down. “We need fresh coffee.”
“I will make some if you move.” Angeline pushed past him toward the cupboard and pulled the coffee out. “People are coming, Ryder. People we need on our side.”
“I know, Angeline. I am aware of what is happening and what we are dealing with.” Ryder’s voice did not change a bit. “Damarra and Roane are bringing Storm down, I am going to get her some food and we are going to give her time with our daughters. Then, perhaps we can come up with something as a collective.”
“Damarra wants to put on a show for the new arrivals, but that was when she was on board with you going into Storm’s mind, something that is clearly no longer necessary.” Angeline added water to the coffee maker and switched it on.
“I do not think she ever intended to do anything of the sort.” Ryder sighed. He did not think the Goddess had intended many of the things that had come to pass.
Storm
Dressing proved more difficult than she imagined which made her regret sending Ryder away. Her wounded pride could not bear any more rejection though. Even if he was right, even if her post birth body was definitely not ready for her mate she’d wanted it in that moment more than anything. Storm wanted the world to go away again, wanted to forget she had an enemy stalking her, hell bent on destroying her and everything she cared about. With Ryder in the shower she felt normal again, just a woman in the throes of love and passion with her mate. Then he pulled away and everything went cold again, the world went lopsided and she would have to buckle down for the fight of her life. As confident as she’d been in her mind, Storm knew that reality was often quite different.
Storm pulled the clothes on, grateful that he’d been thoughtful enough to pick out something comfortable and accommodating to her new figure. She thought back to the time in her head and the running she’d done. Yes, Storm vowed to get back to running when this was over. She plaited her damp hair and gingerly walked toward the door. Sighing, she admitted to herself that Ryder had been right, she really was sore in all the wrong places. A soft rap at the door was followed by her grandmother’s voice.
“Storm?” Opening the door, she found her grandparents looking at her expectantly. Well, more Damarra than Roane as half of his face was a swollen mess of purplish blue. Without thinking, Storm fell into her grandparents’ arms, inhaling the soft, clean floral scent of her grandmother’s hair. “We thought you might need help, dear.”
“How are you feeling, Storm?” Roane half smiled at her, cringing slightly.
“I’ve been better but right now I’m just glad to see you both and I want to see my girls.” Storm looped her arm in Damarra’s and slid her other arm around Roane’s waist. Her grandparents took on a good portion of her weight as they ambled down the stairs and she realized Ryder must have sent them to help in his stead. Storm sighed inwardly realizing she owed her mate another apology.
“No, you do not, dear. He understands.” Damarra patted her arm softly as they hit the hard floor of the foyer. “Just try to control your temper around the others. Your Immortal can handle and even forgive your moods where others may not.”
Storm nodded and tilted her head to the side. Several voices carried from the direction of the study though she could not quite make out what they were saying. Roane squeezed her gently. “The girls are in there, Storm.”
Sucking in her breath, Storm released her grandparents and slipped into the study. The room fell silent, everybody turning to stare at her. Dan and Shane looked up from their perches on the massive desk, the shifters turned toward her from the fireplace, and Kell paused mid-pour at the wet bar. But they were just backdrops, melting into the bookshelves as her eyes landed on Lucian and Sophia standing in the middle of the room with two swaddled bundles in their arms. Storm made her way for them, pulled by an instinct like no other. Autumn and Ember. Her lovely girls. She looked into their tiny faces and felt something wonderful ripple through her. They seemed to look right at her, their whirling eyes so like Damarra’s as they blinked through long, thick lashes.
“They are so beautiful.” Storm whispered breathlessly and took her daughters from Lucian and Sophia, settling awkwardly on the couch with their help.
Sophia slid in beside her. “What did you say, Storm?”
Storm bit her lip. She almost forgot. Dammit. She looked helplessly at her grandparents.
“How long do we have until the others start arriving?” Roane smoothly changed the subject.
“Anytime now.” Dan replied, not taking his eyes from Storm. She felt the Seraphs studying her, knowing full well that they recognized something was off. “Storm, what’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing, she is fine. She just needs to eat and spend some time with her girls before all hell breaks loose again.” Roane settled on the couch next to her, squeezing Storm’s knee lightly. “I changed my mind about the bruising on my face, think you could lend me a little healing?” He winked at her with his good eye and settled his head back against the couch so that Shane could work on him.
Ryder and Pollux walked in with plates of food in their arms followed closely by Angeline. Storm was loathe to give up her daughters but the rumbling in her stomach could no longer be ignored. So that they could not go too far, Storm allowed Sophia and Roane to each take a bundle so she could accept a heaping plate from Ryder.
Damarra floated to the couch opposite Storm and settled down smoothing her skirt. “Now, I believe we have some things to discuss. Where is Trin Sullivan?”
“I’m here. And I see my niece has awakened without assistance.” Aunt Trin entered through the windows at the back of the study with Olivia. “What exactly happened, Storm?”
Storm did not have time to be shocked by the new arrivals because all eyes were on her waiting for an answer. Storm sighed. How could she explain? There was so much. “I woke up in my old apartment but it was different and everything was foggy but I went to different places I’ve b
een before and everywhere I went people were bleeding through. I saw Ryder and Trin and even the Mystic. It was so odd. Nothing felt quite right so I realized it was Him trying to get me to give up my powers. We went through a few more scenarios and then I figured it out, expelled the Unseen and then I woke up. That’s it more or less.”
Everybody was staring at her, a mix of confusion and pride. She bit her lip and looked helplessly at her grandmother who simply sat smiling proudly back at her. “As you can see, Storm is still working through a few side effects but the good news is that it will improve.” Roane squeezed her knee gently again. “She is awake and came out of it on her own. That is what matters right now.”
“But how is she supposed to claim the new arrivals if she can’t talk to them?” Lucian frowned deeply, a dark look in his eyes. “There are few who speak the ancient tongue anymore.”
“This is true, but enough of us do speak it.” The Mystic strolled in through the back windows of the study, his peculiar voice reverberating through the room.
Storm smiled at him in welcome. “I did not know you were really in town.”
“Of course I am here.” The Mystic crossed the room and knelt before her, “you are in grave danger and I am your conduit.”
Storm’s eyes widened when he kissed her cheeks lightly as though they were old friends. His hair fell far past his shoulders and she couldn’t seem to figure out a color as it changed from violet to black to silver whenever he shifted his head. Eyes as violet as amethysts and a complexion as fair as Dorian’s, the Mystic appeared as otherworldly as Aunt Trin until she took in his attire, simple jeans and a black t-shirt, much like Ryder would wear.
“It’s been a while.” She didn’t know what else to say to him. She hadn’t seen him since Bali some five years ago, other than his appearance in her coma-dreamstate.
“Longer for you than for me. I have been watching you, always.” The Mystic had not lost his mysterious riddling ways.
“Why are you here now? What do you mean you are my conduit? How do you understand me?” Storm had many more questions but he raised a hand to silence her.
“So many questions. You still have not lost that nasty habit?” The Mystic frowned. “Very well. I understand you because I am of two worlds, this and the other. I am a part of you and a part of them. A sacrifice was made so that I may exist and protect you where another has failed. I also provide you with a line to the other realms. I am here to right some wrongs and offer blessings to your babes. Is that good enough?”
“No. What sacrifice? Who failed to protect me? What wrongs do you have to right?” Storm kept pressing, she felt certain she’d never run out of questions.
The Mystic looked around her to Damarra. “May I tell her, Goddess?”
“It is time she knew it all, time to set right the wrongs. Those present should know the truth before we go forth.” Damarra sounded unusually sad.
“If you are certain, I will oblige.” The Mystic inclined his head, “Perhaps somebody should lead the guests to the kitchen? The first of many are at the front gate.”
“We can keep them occupied.” Shane stepped forward, “We know enough already.” He paused to kiss her on the cheek, “Love you, babe.”
Dan mimicked his brother’s gesture on her other cheek and whispered in her ear, “Always, Storm.” The brothers sauntered out of the room and shut the double doors behind them.
“Perhaps you should all sit down for this.” The Mystic did not leave the request open for debate though it was not exactly an order, either. Storm passed her now empty plate to Roane in exchange for Autumn. Storm noted how her daughter’s eyelids seemed to be growing heavy and took to gently rocking her. Sophia did the same with Ember, careful to hold her at an angle that allowed Storm to see her precious face as well. She could not tear her eyes away from her children as the Mystic began to speak but somehow she got the impression he did not mind. “There is much you do not know, Storm, much you have not been told in order to protect you and those who would align with you. But first, I must bless your girls.”
The Mystic touched his thumb to Autumn’s brow. “She will have the gift of sight from your line but also wisdom and grace.” He shifted over to Ember, touching her brow in the same fashion, “This child has received gifts from her father which I shall not speak of here to protect the sanctity of the Immortal code but she will also have keen senses and a kind heart.” The Mystic stood over Storm and placed his palms to her forehead. “I think we can rid you of the remnants of your curse. I suspect this will be easier if everybody is able to understand you.” She felt a strange electricity spread through her as the Mystic spoke softly to her, “Now, look closely at me, Storm Sullivan. Do I remind you of anyone you used to know?”
Storm tore her eyes from Autumn and Ember only to lose herself in the Mystic’s gaze. She opened her mind and looked past her idea of him. She exhaled lightly and slowed her breathing. His features began to soften and change. Realization washed over her followed by pain then relief. “Mother?”
“Yes and no.” The Mystic smiled. “Very good, Storm. You see your mother in me so your heart can now accept the truth. I am not your mother but I was born through your mother, our mother really. Sophie Sullivan sacrificed herself to bring me forth, to bind a piece of her with the Tuatha De so that they may watch you and guide you.”
“What?!” Storm was really stretching her mind to its limits, trying to understand how something like this could happen, how the pain of her mother’s death could dampen enough to accept that it had not been weakness but sacrifice out of love.
“I suppose that is the best way to look at it.” The Mystic tilted his head again, “Would you say so, Trin Sullivan?”
Aunt Trin’s ghost floated over, her large eyes full of sorrow and unshed tears. “Yes. I suppose it is.”
Storm peered around the Mystic, looking from Aunt Trin to Damarra and back. “That’s why you hate each other.”
Damarra’s expression tightened, “I did what was right. In the end it was Sophie’s choice.”
“She was my baby sister, Damarra.” Aunt Trin’s ghost hovered in the middle of the room. Storm imagined what she would look like if she were corporeal and shivered. Aunt Trin had a glare that could crack glass if she wished it. “You had no right to interfere, to plant the idea in her mind, to instruct her how to do it, to give her all the tools to take her life. Sophie’s blood is on your hands.”
“You will always see it that way. How can you not see the bigger picture?” Damarra shook her head in dismay.
“Of course I will. You have damned her! And for what? Storm is still in danger! You don’t know if you can save her, if you can help her win this. You don’t know any more now than you did then.” Aunt Trin reached out to touch Angeline and solidified.
“Sophie came to me. She was looking for a way to protect Storm as were we all. Your sister saw the value in providing Storm with a link to the Tuatha De.” Damarra spoke low and even. “You must stop blaming me for your sister’s choices.”
“She never would have taken her life if you had not suggested it and overdramatized the danger to Storm. Or, if you had been a true parent to your son and raised him right then Sophie would never have had to go to such extremes.” Aunt Trin’s hands curled into fists, frustration warping her face into a snarl. “I will always blame you for Sophie’s death.
“Enough.” Storm could not listen to anymore. She was tired and sore and knew what had to happen still before she could hope to get some rest. “I am tired of the fighting. Please stop blaming each other so we can do something about our larger problem.” Both women turned to Storm, anger on Aunt Trin’s face and sorrow etched in the fine lines of her grandmother’s. “That’s better. Now, can you please clarify exactly how our Mystic came to be and how he is supposed to help me in this?”
“I was getting to that.” The Mystic piped up again, his face grim. “Complex magics were used to blend Sophie Sullivan’s blood with the essence of a Tu
atha De princeling. I am not of this realm or of their realm but somewhere in between. The Goddess Almha raised me amongst the ancients for a time and then I was hidden among the gypsies so that I could travel your world and align those supernaturals most likely to aide your cause. The Tuatha De guided me and your mother’s blood grounded me to this world.”
“So what exactly are you?” Lucian blurted the question Storm had been afraid to ask.
The Mystic’s face fell. “Almha named me a child of light in your tongue. I was born from the light and someday, after I fulfill my purpose, I will return to the light. That is all I know.”
“So you have been travelling around seeking allies for the Emerald? That has been the sole purpose of your life?” Angeline sounded as incredulous as Storm felt.
“Yes, I suppose so. When you say it that way it sounds rather pathetic.” The Mystic frowned.
“No, it sounds noble and I am so grateful. Think of all the people you have kept on track, all of the destinies you have helped fulfill, all of the supernaturals you have helped shape.” Storm could not bear to see the Mystic so defeated. His piercing violet eyes flared at her praise.
“Thank you, Emerald, but you do not have to be kind to me. I am merely a vessel.” The Mystic cocked his head to the side and peered at Angeline.
“You are much more than that.” Storm assured him. “I believe you said something about righting some wrongs and somebody failing to protect me? I think we need to move this along, Dan and Shane are not the best hosts.”
“Indeed.” The Mystic looked to Damarra, “Did you want to explain, my Goddess?”
Damarra’s shoulders slumped. Roane mouthed something to her before they both turned to Storm, tears in their eyes. Damarra spoke first, “You must know first that my kin do not have destinies, we weave them for others but do not possess them ourselves. We merely have futures that go on through the ages, weaving through realms like infinite quilts.” Damarra sighed, “One of my kin saw my future disappear, my light extinguish, and she could not bear to be parted from me so when the Tuatha De were seeking a permanent solution for our enemy, she saw a way to give me a new future. Almha saw a path to the enemy’s destruction by giving me something that had never existed before. Unfortunately, it has not come to pass as she anticipated. At that time, our kind did not fully understand the concept of free will and the troubles it can create with not only an individual’s destiny but the impact one person’s choice can have on several other destinies. Beyond that, once a destiny is fulfilled, free will guides the individual for the rest of their days.”
The Storm Sullivan Saga: The Emerald Seer Series Box Set Page 64