Stone Cold Revenge (Set In Stone, Book Two)

by Jess Macallan

  Luna smiled before she bit into her toast, but said nothing.

  I grabbed Jax’s hand under the table and squeezed. The bond tightened with his rolling emotions, but settled after a minute into the regular hum of energy I was becoming accustomed to.

  The waitress finished putting our plates in front of us. The French toast I’d ordered smelled delicious with the blend of butter, cinnamon, and bread. I closed my eyes for a split second to enjoy the scrumptious combination. When I opened them, Jax and MacLean had already dug into their food, Teryl stared at his plate as if unsure where to start, and Gwen continued to frown at everything. I wondered if she’d always been sour, even before her boyfriend’s death.

  I addressed Luna. “Okay, I get a new fate. What else?”

  “Timing is everything,” Luna said, around a mouthful of scrambled eggs. She washed it down with a sip of orange juice. “Threading a soul can’t be done at any old time. You have to wait for certain conditions.”

  “Like death?” I asked.

  She nodded. “That’s one. Or near death. But unthreading is a whole different situation.”

  We all waited for her to continue. She took another bite of eggs and smiled at me, obviously enjoying the suspense.

  “Gwen,” I said. “Take your fork and stab her with it.”

  Luna pretended to pout. “And here I thought we were friends.”

  Not hardly. “Spit it out before we all try to stab you.”

  After a leisurely sip of orange juice, she sighed. “Sorry, it’s a habit. When you’ve seen as much death as I have, you learn to joke about it and move on.”

  Teryl sucked in a sharp breath.

  “Easy, oracle. I meant no disrespect for your love. After centuries of losing loved ones, you either find something humorous in your situation, or you go off the deep end.”

  I was pretty sure she already had. She threw me a dirty look. “Buttercup, if I ever go off the deep end, you wouldn’t live to experience it.”

  “You’re threatening her?” Jax asked, deep voice incredulous.

  “No. Read between the lines, people.” Her tone dripped with scorn. “When someone with a lot of power goes nuts, people die. Lots of people. It’s ugly.”

  “Like my father,” I added.

  Luna’s expression softened for a second before her smirk slipped back into place. “Yes, like the worthless fuckwit who created you.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the ghost of a smile cross Teryl’s face. Well that was worth something. “What are the conditions for weaving a soul?”

  “It’s unique to each one. That’s where the future seer comes in. Because she reads fates, she can also read souls.”

  “Souls don’t speak,” Gwen said, spine stiff with tension. I wondered why.

  “Not in words,” Luna agreed. “But with the help of this one”—she pointed to Teryl—“Elle can find the souls that should be saved.”

  Teryl got a little color back in his face, even though his expression was shocked. “How in the hell am I supposed to find those kinds of souls?”

  Luna shrugged. “How would I know? How do you find anyone?”

  Teryl bristled. “I’m an oracle. It’s part of my abilities.”

  “Then be an oracle and find the people who deserve to be threaded back to their souls. What’s the point of having an ability if you won’t use it?” She gave Gwen, Teryl, and me each a pointed look.

  We all stared back at her. I knew it wasn’t as simple as she made it sound. It couldn’t be.

  “Why not?” she asked out loud.

  “Why not what?” Teryl asked.

  Luna pointed her fork at me after taking a bite of food.

  I took a bite off my own plate and chewed slowly. She was right. Why couldn’t it be that simple? We ate in silence for a few minutes. My brain ran through a dozen scenarios, dismissing each.

  Teryl broke the silence first. “How, exactly, would I look for something like that?”

  “Practice,” Luna replied in a matter of fact tone. “You need to find an intact soul and a rethreaded soul to feel the difference. Once you know what you’re looking for, you’ll have an easier time finding it in the fuckwit.”

  “There hasn’t been a soul weaver since my mother, and I’m assuming there weren’t many before her if you’re the one training me how to do it. Where are we going to find someone with a rethreaded soul, besides my father?” Old habits died hard, and I just couldn’t bring myself to call him a fuckwit out loud. It was like inviting Luke and his knife to appear and start carving.

  “You could start by saving the oracle he’s using to see your every move. She’ll need her soul rethreaded if you don’t get to her in time. You’ll need to save her life.” Luna shoveled scrambled eggs into her mouth.

  How she could drop a bomb like that, and then polish off her food, was beyond me. “Can we make a new rule? If you can’t avoid it, at least give us a little warning before you dump the heavy stuff on us.”

  “Whatever you say. You asked, I answered. Gemma needs saving, and you and the oracle need practice. Sounds like a win-win to me.”

  “Did you say Gemma?” MacLean asked, copper eyes intent on Luna.

  She nodded. “Yes. Cute little thing. She’s got three, maybe four days left.”

  Jax looked over at MacLean. “I think I saw that name on the list Maxim dropped off.”

  “Probably. She went missing about five months ago. I was hired to find her.”

  “How’s that going for you?” Luna asked.

  None of us responded to her.

  I looked over at MacLean and Jax, who both nodded their assent. “How do we find her?”

  Luna raised her hand. “That’s where I come in.”

  “You’re actually going to help us?”

  She spread her hands wide. “Hey, fairy godmother here.”

  Gwen made a derisive sound. Teryl and I exchanged a look of skepticism. It was far better than sorrow. He continued to pick at his food, but nibbled on a bite here and there. I patted his leg under the table. He didn’t look up, but squeezed my hand.

  “Okay,” I said, “since Luna is going to get Gemma—”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I didn’t say anything about getting her. I said, I can help you find her.”

  Exasperated, I pushed my plate away. It was difficult to maintain my appetite during a conversation that revolved around life or death. “Why can’t you pop over to where she is, and then pop her back here, like you do with clothes?”

  Her expression turned somber. “I’m not allowed to directly interfere. I promised your mother I would help you, but before that, I made the oath not to interfere with your father.”

  I knew she was serious, because she forgot to insult him. “You’re limited.”

  “Yes,” she replied, and I swear I saw a flash of relief in her eyes. Because I understood, or because I wasn’t going to push the issue?

  “You take the girl, and he’ll only find more.” This from Gwen, who stared at her plate as if the Belgian waffle was the enemy.

  “Her life is on the line because he has no one else,” Luna said. “Lately, he’s gone through them in a matter of days or weeks.”

  A strangled sound came from Teryl’s direction. I tried not to let the horror of Luna’s implications sink into my brain. I focused on her face. “Why are you telling us this?”

  She set her fork down and leaned her elbows on the table. “I’m telling you, because you have the opportunity to rethread a soul in need.”

  I could feel the weight of everyone’s gaze, but continued to stare at Luna. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to do it. They come back wrong, so why this woman?”

  “Two reasons. One, you need the practice. And two, there are a select few souls who can be rethreaded. No, that’s not right. They’re supposed to be rethreaded. Like your oracle friend, after some practice, you’ll learn to determine which ones qualify. Just know there are far fewer souls who should be put back together than yo
u’d expect,” she added quietly.

  My mother must have known my father didn’t qualify. The latter entries in her journal insinuated as much. She hadn’t said anything about how I would decipher which souls should or shouldn’t be rethreaded—maybe she assumed I’d know. Or maybe she expected me to make my own mistakes.

  “It’s part of the process.” Luna’s response to my unspoken thoughts settled on my shoulders. Another responsibility I didn’t need or want.

  “What about Clio?” Teryl asked, hope and fear causing his voice to come out raw. “Does she qualify?”

  Luna saved me from answering. “No. Even a weaver is limited. They have to be with the soul as it’s ready to pass in order to weave the threads. Elle couldn’t have made it to London in time to save her.”

  Teryl gave a jerky nod, and went back to pushing his food around on the plate.

  Luna gestured toward MacLean and Jax. “You two and the oracle can go get Gemma. She’s not heavily guarded. I’ll write out the location for you. I need to work with Gwen and Buttercup. We’ve got to fine-tune her training before the ball.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  I’d finished my training and business for the day. Maxim would no longer meet my gaze, which was fine with me. I still wasn’t sure what his motive with the list was. Jax and MacLean had kept it. Luna and Teryl were still trying to locate Gemma. Jax was with them, so I had time to kill.

  The guesthouse had a roomy patio off the back, and a small stone pool. I decided to take advantage of the sunshine and do some thinking while dangling my feet in the water. Growing up near the ocean meant I could swim as well as I could walk. Today, I needed the water to help clear my head.

  My eyes were unfocused as I slowly kicked my feet, creating ripples along the surface of the pool. A man cleared his throat, and I looked up to see MacLean beside me. I hadn’t even heard him walk up.

  “Hey,” I said, and stopped kicking my feet.

  “Hi,” he replied, and gestured toward the spot beside me. “Can I join you?”

  I’d been expecting him, sooner or later. I owed him this conversation. Maybe I owed it to myself as well. With a deep breath, I jumped right it. “I want you to know part of me will always love you.”

  He froze mid-crouch, but recovered quickly. “Is this the kiss-off, just want to be friends speech?”

  “This is the conversation where I get to be honest.”

  He rolled up his pant legs, peeled off his shoes and socks, and dunked his feet in the water next to me. “Okay, as long as I get a turn when you’re done.”

  “That’s fair.” I thought for a minute about what I wanted to say. I started with, “You saved me.”

  He clasped his hands in his lap. “How so?”

  I smiled slightly as memories drifted to the surface of my mind. It was nice to be able to remember, however bittersweet. “You were a buffer between my father and me on numerous occasions.”

  He glanced over at me, copper flames lighting his eyes. “I wanted to do more. I hated seeing you scared and hurt. Every time we left your house, I worried. My saving grace was our engagement, because I knew it would only be a matter of time before I could get you out of there for good.” He looked back at the water, shifting his feet. He couldn’t keep the bitter note out of his voice. “When you gave me your mark, I knew things would be better.”

  “Yeah, about that. Why do you have a mark from me, but I don’t have one from you? And what does it mean? I can’t remember this.” Ever since he’d pointed the mark out to me, it had been a worry at the back of my mind. Was I still tied to MacLean, and he to me? Why couldn’t I remember? I drew a blank every time I tried to focus on it. For all his faults, I couldn’t see Elion purposefully withholding a memory like that. He’d ordered me to clear up the mate issue, so it didn’t make sense.

  The fire in MacLean’s eyes died out. “It means nothing. The ceremony wasn’t completed, and you’ve bonded with Jax. The mark is nothing more than a reminder.”

  A part of me would always love MacLean. That hadn’t changed. I gave him a hug, because he looked like he needed one as much as I did. “I don’t have a mark from anyone. Just the wards.”

  “Each line is different. Phoenix have marks because we go up in flames and rise from the ashes. If you were to give me an object such as a ring or necklace, it would be gone the first time I turned to fire. A mark is permanent. Once it’s on my skin, I can burn over and over again, and it will always be there. Just as I’ll always be here for you.”

  “MacLean…” I trailed off. Nothing I could say would make this situation better.

  “I mean that. I know you are…you’re with Jax. But I’m not going to walk away. Especially not while your life is in danger. I still love you, and your happiness is important to me.”

  Spoken like the hero I always thought he was. I felt about two inches high. He didn’t seem to expect a response, but I had to say something. “Your happiness is important to me, too. Which is why you can’t stick around. Not for me, and not for you. I’m not the safest person to be near right now, for one thing. You deserve to know who else might be out there for you, for another.”

  “I’m a hunter, but my first purpose has always been your protection.” He must have noticed I was about to argue, because he quickly added, “It was in my fate. Not only that we’re mates, but that my obligation is to protect you. Always.”

  A startling realization hit me. “You’ve been as much of a pawn of the fates as I’ve been. Am,” I corrected.

  He seemed surprise by the comment, but after a moment, he nodded. “I suppose you’re right. We all are still, to some extent. You, more so than the rest of us.”

  “Why are you a hunter?”

  He didn’t need to think about his answer long. “I’m good at it. Tracking comes naturally to me. I enjoy connecting the dots—it’s like an elaborate treasure map. If you’re lucky, the treasure is reuniting a person or object to a worried family or owner.” His stare was direct when he added, “I hunted for you first.”

  “Me?” I laughed, a little uncomfortable with the information. “I don’t remember ever being lost.” At least not physically.

  “Right after our engagement was called off, you disappeared for about a week. I thought you said you got your memories back?” I heard the frown in his voice.

  “I did.” I fell silent and ran through the memories I could access. Was there a chance Elion had missed any? Was this one buried too deep? “Are you sure? I remember being devastated that our engagement was called off. I remember you coming to my room and telling me you’d find a way. But I don’t remember going anywhere after that.”

  He stopped moving his feet in the water, and half turned toward me. “I was frantic to find you. I remember that clearly. It was hell.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He drew up a knee and leaned on it. “It was a day after my father told me the engagement was off. At first, I thought you were dead, that Jedren might have killed you. As the week progressed, I was sure of it. Then, I saw you, by chance, walking down the street with your mom.” He looked out over the yard and his voice softened. “You looked right at me, and right through me.”

  “My memories,” I whispered. “He must have cleared them out by then.”

  MacLean didn’t say anything.

  “I don’t remember being missing. I just remember being shuttled to my mom’s. That’s it.” Anxiety made my shoulders tense.

  “No, that’s the first place I looked for you. I would have felt your energy.” He held up his hand, showing me the mark on his palm. “This is a connection between us. I always know when you’re close. You weren’t at your mom’s. You weren’t here, either.”

  I wanted to laugh it off, but the niggling worry in the back of my mind wouldn’t let me. “How could I have disappeared for a week and not known about it? I have my memories back, the good and bad.”

  A third person interrupted us. “Not all of them, I�
�m afraid.”

  My father. MacLean stood quickly when Jedren walked into view. He angled his body slightly, shielding me.

  I stood, too, although cautiously. “What do you mean?”

  Jedren stared at my bare feet a moment before those icy eyes met mine. “MacLean is correct. You were gone for a week.”

  “You gave Elle the day off. Let her grieve. Let her rest.”

  My father adjusted his watch. “I know you met this morning at the hovel of a pancake eatery. I thought I might offer you information, so you save time with your ridiculous musings.” He spared me a brief glance, before staring hard at MacLean. “She disappeared for a week under my order. I knew her potential and I had a use for her.”

  The satisfied smile that spread across his face chilled me. I wanted to cover my ears, but my body wouldn’t respond. Frozen to the spot, I was forced to hear his next words.

  “She rethreaded a soul. The process didn’t go quite as planned, so she had to redo it. It proved to be more traumatic than poor Elleodora could handle. So much so, clearing her memory was beyond my capabilities. A faery was kind enough to step in and handle that for me.”

  A silent scream welled up inside me, and I barely managed to swallow it back down. I knew he’d never joke about something like this, but I desperately wanted him to be. The pendant was cold around my neck, mirroring the cold that settled into my bones. Horror pierced through the ringing in my ears. “Why are you telling me this?” I whispered.

  He put one hand in the pocket of his slacks. “Isn’t that what you were talking about just now? I’m trying to fill in the gaps for you. It’s a shame I couldn’t simply restore the memory. Fae magic is so different than my own. Unfortunately, the only one who can replace the memory is the faery who removed it. And he died years ago.”

  I wasn’t buying this for a second. Not the fake look of contrition, nor the story. However, I did believe he killed the fae. MacLean looked ready to tear my father to pieces. I thought I’d let him.

  “You stole her memories and our future,” MacLean bit out. The bitterness and anger in his voice was echoed in the flame that danced along his hands.