Stone Cold Revenge (Set In Stone, Book Two)

by Jess Macallan

  Hands fisted, I complied. I’d have a headache later from gritting my teeth so hard. When I faced her again, I bit out, “Can I change now?”

  “Wait. That’s not a ward mark,” Jax said in a low, dangerous voice. He was staring at my left shoulder.

  “Battle scars,” I tried to joke, but it fell flat. I thought Jax must have seen it at some point before, but still I turned so he couldn’t look at the mark. It hadn’t been much of a battle; Luke had carved it into me, calling it his mark. He prided himself on not leaving jagged scars—what he’d left looked like a bizarre scar tattoo. It had faded over the past decade to thin white lines. At first glance it reminded me of my ward marks, only bigger. I could see why Jax would have thought it was one. I’d tried to decipher the strange symbol a time or two but couldn’t make out a definite shape. Regardless, it was ugly to me, and I liked to keep it covered.

  Luna walked behind me and traced the lines with her index finger. I tried not to cringe. Her touch was light and didn’t bother me, but the memory of Luke creating it did. I could still remember the tuneless song he’d hummed with each cut of his dagger.

  I jumped when Luna covered the mark with her palm. A brief, intense heat warmed my skin before she stepped away, looking pleased. “All better. Happy early birthday.”

  I brushed a hand over the skin, which was smooth to the touch. “How’d you do that?”

  She shrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s a simple healing ability. I’m no light elf, but I can do a little first-aid work every now and then. Now let’s get moving. You have a lot more clothes to try on.”

  I returned to the bathroom, a little shell-shocked. I’d lived with—and hated—that mark for the past decade, and with a brief touch, Luna had removed it as if it had never existed. Luke had nothing over me now. No mark, no fear, no power. Some of the weight on my shoulders eased.

  I snuck a peek in the mirror. After adjusting the straps, I had to admit the dress was beautiful. Feminine, flirty, and flattering. Luna was right. It fit well and my father wouldn’t be able to complain that I wasn’t representing the family appropriately. Plus, I couldn’t wait for Luke to see that the mark was gone.

  I stepped out of the dress and slid it back on the hanger. One dress down, multiple outfits to go. My joy at losing the mark quickly turned to misery as Luna shoved outfit after outfit at me. It was ninety of the longest minutes of my life. In all, I ended up with seven dresses, three pantsuits, four skirts, six tops, and ten pairs of shoes. More clothes than I’d purchased in the last five years combined.

  Luna brushed her hands together and looked over the pile with satisfaction. “Perfect. Now let’s talk about the journal.”

  Damn it; I hadn’t finished it.

  She snagged a shirt from the pile and ran a critical eye over it. “I was here when you woke up, remember? I know you didn’t look at a single page today. You had bigger issues dealing with your friend this morning. There’s time now, and you need to read.”

  “What’s so important about it?” I was genuinely curious. I also thought it would save time if someone just told me.

  Luna put the shirt back and handed me the journal. When had she picked it up? I remembered leaving it in the closet upstairs. “I think your mother says it best.”

  I took the small leather-bound book from her but made no move to open it. I was nervous to finish it, for reasons I didn’t fully understand. My mother’s voice was in this journal. Each time I read it, my heart broke a little. I sat on the couch next to Jax and opened the book with hands that shook slightly.

  “I’ll put your clothes away while you read.” Luna scooped up the pile and disappeared, presumably to my closet.

  Too intent on the words scrolled across the page I’d stopped on, I didn’t bother to look up. Heart pounding, I focused on the first sentence on the next page. The handwriting here was choppier than the first few entries. The tone had changed, and I was scared to find out why.

  My baby girl,

  This journal is for you. A compilation of my heart, my words, my thoughts, my knowledge, and my life. All for you. Your birth changed me in ways I never expected but am eternally grateful for. I entrusted Carys, the oracle and your fate reader, and her line with this journal and pendant. Carys will make sure you receive it.

  Elleodora, you are my shining star. As I write this, you are sleeping in your bed, a precocious child of eight. I’ve long dreamed of giving you a normal life. Renouncing my immortality was a choice I made without hesitation or regret. I’d do it again and again. No matter what they

  Bringing Jedren back is a choice I regret daily. My goal was to give you a normal life. I mistakenly believed you needed two parents. I see the fear in your eyes when he sends his driver to pick you up. I overlooked it for too long. I convinced myself he was fine.

  Luna tried to tell me I should have known better. In my quest to save you, I’ve failed you. I’m so sorry.

  This journal is my attempt to make amends. You are a demigod. Despite my exile, your birthright cannot be taken from you. At the risk of sounding paranoid, don’t trust anyone who hasn’t proven himself or herself to you. Your heart will recognize their truth. Your heart will also recognize those who wish you harm.

  Please know your father was a good man. I fell in love with his easy smile and charm. Despite the impossibility of it all, we were mates. My mother refused to acknowledge the bond. His status meant little to her. I hid my pregnancy for five months. When my mother found out, she killed Jedren.

  Against the better judgment of those around me, I rethreaded his soul. I was a fool in love, blinded to the repercussions. My heart breaks, knowing you might one day pay the consequences.

  I’m so sorry.

  I put down the journal and stood up to pace. I wanted to see doodles and read embarrassing baby stories. Not this.

  Jax caught me, wrapping warm, strong arms around me. I had dry eyes and volatile emotions. “She’s apologizing for him. He ended up killing her, and she’s apologizing.”

  “She knew he would.”

  I turned in Jax’s embrace to stare at Luna. “She knew he’d kill her, and she still apologized to me.” I made it a statement.

  Luna sat in the armchair. “She knew the risk of rethreading his soul. Any soul. They don’t always go the way he has. Some experience only a small shift in personality or emotion.”

  “Can you do it?”

  “No.” Her smile was wry. “It’s not an ability I would ever want.”

  Great. Even the leprechaun assassin didn’t want my ability.

  Her eyes sparkled with repressed mirth. “Leprechaun assassin? It has a nice ring to it, but you’re right. The responsibility required to thread souls isn’t one I’d wish on anyone. Keep reading.”

  I’m a stronger person now, I silently chanted. I could finish my mother’s journal. Though I hated to admit that I’d rather train with Falon than read the rest of her emotional and revealing script.

  “Read it,” Luna encouraged. “The oracle will interpret.” Gwen appeared in the living room.

  “Stop doing that!” Gwen snarled, as she swayed but managed to stay upright.

  Luna smirked at her. “You didn’t know it was coming? Oracle, I have to tell you, I’m not impressed.”

  To Gwen’s credit, she ignored Luna’s wisecrack. Her furious violet eyes locked with mine. “Did you read the journal?”

  I plopped back down on the couch. “Working on it.”

  “Princess,” she mocked, “lives are on the line and you’re working on it? My mother died to promote your journey, and you cannot devote time to read a journal? You a-are—” She choked down the rest of her words when Luna’s dagger pressed to the base of her neck.

  “Oracle, I suggest you check your tone. You’re addressing a demigod and shadow elf princess. Respect her.”

  Gwen’s nervous gaze flicked from Luna to me.

  “L-Luna,” I stammered, “I don’t think that’s really necessary.”

&n
bsp; “She knows better. I won’t tolerate it.”

  “You insult me all the time.”

  Her look of disgust raked over me. “I’m your godmother. I can do whatever the hell I want.” She pressed the dagger harder against Gwen’s neck. “This one can’t. She knows what she’s supposed to do, but she seems to have an issue. I’d like to know why.”

  Gwen stared down at Luna in silence. Despite Gwen’s height, Luna’s sheer presence dwarfed her. I glanced at Jax, who seemed to be entertained by the exchange.

  “Please remove the knife.” Gwen’s soft brogue rasped against the pressure of the blade.

  “You need to put your issue on the table so it can be dealt with. The last thing we need is your little snit slowing us down.”

  “Fine,” Gwen muttered.

  Luna withdrew the blade but held it flat against her thigh. Light glinted off the metal, and I wondered how many people she’d killed with it. She smiled at me. “More than I can keep track of.”

  Gwen folded her arms across her chest and jutted out her chin. “Elleodora is not what I expected.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I get that a lot. And it’s just Elle.”

  “I don’t believe in you,” she countered.

  I didn’t respond. I had the same thought at least ten times a day, but I wouldn’t admit it out loud. Luna sighed but didn’t relay my thoughts to the group.

  “My mother was the second death in my family.” Her voice hardened. “Jedren Warlow is a piece of filth. He killed my boyfriend a year ago.”

  I hadn’t expected that revelation. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Did you know he goes through oracles like tissue? He shatters their minds.”

  Teryl had said something similar about Clio. “How does he do it?”

  “He abuses their gift. Sean could predict the future. One of the last strong seers.” Her wistful smile transformed and softened her angular face. “One of the managers from Warlow Imports contacted him about a position. He had a degree in biology but was between jobs. They offered him a salary he couldn’t refuse.”

  “If he was a seer, he should have known better.” Luna sounded unsympathetic as she tapped her dagger against her thigh.

  Gwen’s shoulders twitched. “You’re right. He should have. My mother warned him, but Sean sensed nothing. So he went ahead with it. I encouraged him.” Sorrow pulled the corners of her mouth down.

  “How could he not know?” I asked.

  Gwen ran a hand through her short blond hair, causing it to spike up. “My best guess is a fae. Only fae have the ability to impede an oracle’s sight.”

  Luna stood straight and gripped the dagger. “Fae can’t do that.”

  Gwen’s harsh laugh echoed in the living room. “They can and they will. For a price.”

  “Or under coercion,” I added. I knew where this was going. “He’s either paying them or using them. Neither works in our favor.”

  Luna tapped the dagger thoughtfully against her cheek. “How long did your boyfriend last?”

  “Luna, geez!” Tact would go a long way here, I silently projected.

  Gwen’s arms dropped to her sides and she closed her eyes. “Four months. They broke Sean in four months. By the time I found him, he was beyond my help. I brought him home, but we couldn’t help him.”

  Luna paced in agitation. “He was alive when you found him?”

  “His body only,” Gwen replied, voice hitching. “His mind was gone. Fractured beyond repair. He passed three days afterward.” She faced me. The weight of her gaze hit me with a sickening lurch. “The longer you remain ignorant, the more oracles we lose.”

  Like Clio. Dread pooled in my stomach. “How is he doing it? And why is he doing it?”

  Gwen’s eyes looked over my right shoulder and lost focus. “Like a game of chess, he seeks to move the pieces. He uses the oracles to predict the next move, the best move, to reach his goal.”

  “What’s his goal?” I resisted the urge to plug my ears and sing la-la-la. I had to ask but hated to know.

  Eyes still unfocused, Gwen frowned slightly. “I can’t see that.”

  Luna made a rude sound. “That damn little wanker is coercing the fae. I don’t know how he managed that.”

  Jax stirred beside me. “I do.”

  We all looked at him. “He’s using them to steal souls. He’s offered them a reward they can’t refuse. The few who decided to talk to me mentioned Jedren’s payment was one some fae wouldn’t be willing to—or couldn’t—turn down.”

  “He’s bribing them? Not using intimidation?”

  “I’m not sure,” Jax replied. “They were too spooked to tell me more.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The meeting ended abruptly after Jax’s declaration. Luna grabbed Gwen, said something about meeting Elion, told me to finish the journal, and left. I stared at the living room floor, dazed.

  “Oracles, fae, and elves, oh my,” I murmured, only half joking.

  Jax didn’t crack a smile. “I have an idea where he’s keeping them.”

  I rubbed my arms to ward off the sudden chill coursing through my body. “Are they employees or prisoners?” The whole scenario seemed unreal. “Are you sure about this?”

  “My instinct says yes. I also believe he’s holding more than fae. They may have started as employees but are now closer to prisoners.”

  “Are they on this property?” The thought of a secret lair under my feet creeped me out. Chains and stale bread and rats toiling beneath us. I shuddered in revulsion and tried to tame my overactive imagination.

  Jax’s curt denial did little to reassure me. “No, I’ve narrowed it down to three locations. One is outside of Spokane, the second is outside of Montreal, and the third, I suspect, is in Scotland.” He took my hand and pulled me closer.

  “How do you know all of this?” Grateful for his warmth, I snuggled in for a hug.

  “I’ve been watching him for years. I suspect the phoenix has been watching him, too. Many have gone missing, and he averaged three or four a year for the last fifteen years. Never at the same time, but a single member of a powerful line here and there.”

  MacLean.

  MacLean brought me into the sitting room. “How are you doing?”

  I had to look over my shoulder. No one was around, but in this house, I was always being watched. “I’m fine.”

  He pulled me in for a hug, and I was thankful to lean on him. His next question came out as a whisper. “Are you ready?”

  Between my fear of discovery, my love for MacLean, and my nerves at hiding from Luke, I was an emotional wreck. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. Leaving with MacLean was the only thing that had kept me going this week. We could start our life on our terms. Freedom with the love of my life. What could be better?

  “Yes. Eleven o’clock tonight?”

  He led me to the settee. “I’ll get you out of here. I promise you that.”

  My smile started from inside. “I know you will. I’ve never doubted you.”

  I still didn’t doubt MacLean. But as these memories trickled in, they increased my guilt tenfold. It took effort to pull myself back into the conversation.

  I rubbed my thumb across the palm of Jax’s hand. “Why is he doing this?”

  “I don’t know.” Jax rested his chin on the top of my head.

  My nerves settled with his touch. “But you have an idea.”

  He sighed. “No, I have suspicions but no evidence.”

  “So, spill.”

  Before he could, the doorbell rang, causing me to jump. Right into Jax’s jaw. I rubbed my head as he rubbed his chin. “Ouch. Sorry,” I shot him an apologetic look before I answered the door.

  Maxim stood on the other side.

  “What the hell do you want?” I smiled without humor at the bandage on his nose. He was lucky it wasn’t worse.

  His movements stiff, he handed me a stack of papers. “I forgot to go over a few things in our meeting today. I brought the paperwork fo
r you to look over.”

  “Great.” I grabbed the stack and dumped it on the entry table. “Kiss off now.” I tried to shut the door, but he shoved a foot inside.

  “Listen to me,” he said, voice low and rushed. “Read the papers.”

  I heard Jax walk up behind me. Maxim didn’t spare him a glance. “Read the papers,” he repeated.

  “They’re not high on my priority list. But my grieving best friend? You know, your brother? He is.”

  “Fine,” Maxim snapped. “Read them or don’t read them. I don’t care.” He turned on his heel to stalk off.

  I slammed the door before he stepped off the porch. “He’s got some nerve showing up here. I should have let Teryl go after him. Teryl’s the one who deserved to hit him, not me.”

  Jax picked up the papers and rifled through them. “Mm-hmm,” he murmured, apparently distracted by what he saw. Accounting gave me hives. Jax could burn the papers for all I cared.

  “I need ice-cream therapy. If I find some, do you want a bowl?” I walked into the kitchen and opened the freezer. Fortunately, I found a pint of cookie dough ice cream and a few Fudgsicles. I had a feeling my new assistant and BFF had told the kitchen staff exactly what to stock. “Or would you rather have a Fudgsicle?”

  Jax didn’t answer.

  I closed the freezer and rummaged through the cupboards, looking for bowls. The first thing I found was a set of funky, oversized cappuccino mugs straight from Majorca. The hand-painted ceramic was a little too sophisticated for my morning cup of joe, but the eighteen-ounce mug was perfect for a generous helping of ice cream. “Jax?”

  He walked into the kitchen with the papers. “You need to read these.”

  I didn’t want to read anything from Maxim. He might kill me with analytics and pie charts. “No, it’s been a helluva day already. I need ice cream, I need to read the journal, and then I need to go to bed.”

  “He gave us clues.” Jax held the papers under my nose. “Look.”

  If Jax saw something, then I was sure something was there. I scanned the sheets. “All I see are names, dates and codes.”