Trinity ducked her head and tried to pull a decent amount of air into her suddenly very tight lungs. “I’m afraid to tell you, all right?” She fisted her hands on the counter, the pressure behind her heart so big it was a wonder the thing didn’t quit altogether. “I want to. Believe me, after everything you’ve shared with me, I want to.”
“Why can’t you?” He steered her to face him. “I’m a pretty reasonable man. What could possibly be so bad you can’t tell me?” He moved close and lowered his voice. “I can’t help you if you don’t give me the facts.”
Voices from the crowd outside filtered through the window.
He hated the Spiritu. He’d never used those exact words but his tone pretty much screamed it. She’d been a fool to let go with him. To believe the things he’d said the night before. The minute she told him the truth, he’d hate her, like he did the rest of her race.
If it changes everything, was he worth your heart to begin with?
All the fight in her, all the tension, deflated. He’d been good with her. Honest. The least she could do was give him the same. “You told me yesterday about the Rebellion. How the Spiritu helped them. You made it pretty clear you don’t trust them at all.”
Ramsay laughed. Not a happy laugh, but a disgusted one. “No one trusts the Rebellion. They’re a bunch of damned sociopaths who think humans were born to be slaves.”
“I wasn’t talking about the Rebellion.” God this hurt. The minute she opened her mouth she’d be alone again. Even more so now with the loss of her mother. Who knew when Kazan would be back. “I was talking about the Spiritu.”
Ramsay frowned.
Ludan and Jagger crept into her periphery.
Trinity swallowed, the process turning into more of a choked cough. “I was afraid to tell you because I’m human.” She pulled in a deep breath and closed her eyes, praying for some kind of salvation. “But I’m also part Spiritu.”
* * *
Hundreds of battles and countless sparring sessions, and never once had Ramsay taken a sucker punch like Trinity’s. And she hadn’t even lifted a finger to do it.
Behind him, Ludan and Jagger were as slack-jawed as he’d been. “You don’t think telling me a little earlier you’re Spiritu might have been a good idea?”
“I couldn’t.” Trinity took a quick step forward, registered the look on his face, and jerked back again. “I mean, I didn’t think I could at first. I didn’t know you knew about them and revealing their race would’ve made my dad’s life forfeit.”
“I thought your dad was dead.”
For a second she looked confused, then she shook her head. “Not my adopted father. He died in a car accident like I told you. I mean my real father, Kazan. The Spiritu. It took a dispensation from the Black King before he could even reveal himself to me. The only reason the king allowed that much was because of how crazy Carol became after David died.”
“And after you learned we already knew about them?”
“You made it pretty clear you don’t like them.” Trinity ducked her head. “At that point I was afraid you’d lump me in with everyone else.”
“So your dad’s a rogue?”
Her head snapped up, a defensive fire burning in her dark eyes. “I don’t know about any rogues, but my dad’s not one of them. He’s a Black. Passionate. Indulgent, maybe, but not evil. And by the way, judging a whole race based on a few bad seeds is no different than lumping all Myrens in with the Rebellion.”
The growing sound of voices and the steady purr of engines from the street rumbled through the windows.
Trinity met Ludan and Jagger’s stares one by one then finally landed on his. “I’m sorry.” She lifted her chin, but her lower lip trembled. “I was scared. I was trying to process it. To figure out what to do. Then we had our run-in with my mom and came back here…”
Oh, yeah. When they’d come back there and he’d gone hell bent for leather for someone giving him only half-truths. Even without her deceit he’d never really know how much of what he felt was genuine and how much she’d manufactured in his head. “The touching, that part of you being Spiritu?”
Trinity nodded. “When I touch someone, I get a blast of what they’re thinking. What’s immediately impacting their lives.” She crossed her arms and trembled as though the temperature in the room had dropped twenty degrees. “Nine times out of ten it’s not something anyone wants to see.”
“But not with me,” he said.
“No, not with you.” Her gaze slid to his men behind him. “Not with any of you. I’m guessing it’s because you’re Myren.”
Well, that was good at least. He felt violated enough. The last thing he needed was her knowing how far down she’d pulled him. “Can you influence people like the rest of them can?”
“You see? This is why I didn’t say anything,” she said. “You talk about us like we’re contagious. And we don’t influence. Those who’ve accepted their powers offer thought. Ideas. Inspiration. Any being’s will is completely uninhibited.”
“But they can be bent.” Ludan’s deep voice shot through the her tirade, his eyes on Ramsay. “The rogue at the deal in North Texas took Serena’s will and stabbed Maxis.”
Trinity sighed and dropped her hands. “If they can, I don’t know how. I didn’t even know rogues existed until Ramsay told me. My dad rarely talks about his world other than to try to get me to accept my gifts, which I don’t want. If I did, I’d be hooked into their hive mind, which freaks me out. Plus, I didn’t want to leave my mom alone.” She huffed out a bitter chuckle and fisted her hair at the top of her head. “Though in hindsight I’d say that wasn’t wise.”
A siren chirped outside the building.
Jagger strode to the window and checked between the blinds. “Cops are here. We gotta make a move and do it quick.”
Ramsay flexed and clenched his fists over and over. All this time he’d been so convinced she was Myren. Didn’t it figure he’d finally wrap himself around the idea he’d found someone, only to get smacked sideways in the process.
“It’s okay.” Trinity motioned to the box perched on the counter and headed to the hallway off the living room. “You guys take the box. I’ll be fine.” She all but growled the last bit. Her tone implied she referred to more than just answering questions from the cops and shoving through a bunch of frenzied reporters.
Ludan snatched up the box and paused by the front door. “We’ve got enough bad press without adding cops to the mix. Let’s move.”
Jagger watched by the window and waited.
Damn her. And damn her race with their meddlesome thoughts. Ramsay strode to the door and reached for the knob.
Kind of the pot calling the kettle black, aren’t you?
He froze, the metal against his palm as cold as the idea of leaving her alone to deal with the mess he’d created. Hadn’t he done pretty much the same thing to her? Going for information without being honest up front? Would she have come clean if the whole snafu with the cops hadn’t bubbled up?
He stomped down the hall toward her room.
Empty, but a ragged exhale sounded from her office. He followed the sound and found her braced with both arms on her desk, eyes locked on the picture of her adopted parents.
He whirled her around and gripped her shoulders. “I’m going to go home, spar, and beat the fuck out of Ludan or Jagger until I can breathe without wanting to break something. Then you and I are going to have a very long talk.” He pried his hands free and took a step back, leaving a path to the doorway. “You can walk, or I can throw you over my shoulder, but either way, you’re going to Eden.”
Chapter 19
Serena drummed her fingers on her father’s desk and studied his collection of liquors across the room. Crystal decanters filled with the finest Myren and human spirits, all neatly arranged on a mahogany bar, with vintage red wines angled in the racks below. She’d more than earned a drink. Several, really. Between almost being discovered slipping back into Sanctuary a
nd Uther’s ultimatum, sleep would be a long time coming. A little boost before she went to bed wouldn’t be a bad idea.
But not until she talked to Thyrus, wherever he was.
She checked the sun’s position. Only thirty minutes since she’d sent for him. Barely enough to leave his house, let alone fly across the capital. This late at night, she’d be lucky if he answered at all.
Rows of leather-bound books in jeweled colors stretched beside the bar, most as crisp in their coloring as the day they’d been purchased, their spines barely even cracked, if at all. A show of sophistication more than academia. Unless, of course, it pertained to economics.
Well-worn, crimson journals lined a shorter row of shelves behind her father’s desk. The Great One only knew what secrets they held.
A knock sounded and Serena’s heart leapt. “Enter.”
The door clicked opened and their butler stepped into the library. His towering frame curled forward at the shoulders, his wiry, thinning hair more disheveled than normal. “The solicitor, Thyrus Monrolla, to see you.”
Thyrus lumbered into the room and angled toward the desk. He might have been out of breath, but his voice sounded not at all disturbed. “Your messenger said you had an urgent issue?”
Perhaps being summoned at all hours of the night was the norm in his line of work. Then again, she was compensating him for his time, and probably at an inflated rate. She settled back into her father’s chair. “I need access to the sacred archives.”
With a mangled tablet halfway free from his bag, Thyrus looked up. “The sacred archives?” His eyebrows lifted so high it was a wonder they didn’t smack his hairline. He stuffed his tablet back in the bag and harrumphed so forcefully a loose parchment fluttered to the floor. “If I’d known that’s what you were after, I could have saved us both some time and trouble. Only ellan and the royal family have access to those records.”
“I’m well aware of that. Unfortunately, my house arrest makes it such that you’re the only person I can reach out to without raising suspicions, and I need in those archives to protect myself.”
“To what end? The malran’s solicitor mentioned Eryx’s concerns and his visit. He also admitted your memories proved insubstantial. There’s no need for you to go digging around in ancient texts.” Thyrus peered down his nose at her. “As a side note, that was a terribly foolhardy move. I should be present for all such scans. My gifts and my status ensure the malran or those acting on his behalf keep to the time in question, and particularly far away from memories of our private conversations.”
Shit. She’d forgotten about those.
“I wouldn’t concern yourself.” He buckled the worn leather briefcase and tugged the flap tight. “The malran might not favor our race leading those lesser than us, but he usually acts with honor. I doubt he’d take action he couldn’t hold up to public scrutiny.”
Ah, but Eryx hadn’t been the one to look. Ludan had. And Ludan didn’t give a damn about scruples or public sentiment. Particularly when it came to her. What had she and Thyrus spoken of in recent days? Surely Ludan hadn’t been able to get the full breadth of their conversations with such brief contact.
Thyrus hefted his briefcase and turned to go.
“I still need the records. Translation tablets for our mother tongue. As far back as you can get them.”
He bumbled to a stop and faced her. “I’ve already told you. We can’t—”
“Contact Angus. If anyone can get in, he can. You’ve sold him on our ideas before. Maxis even went so far as to say he doubted anyone else could have lured Angus into our fold as eloquently as you did.” Nothing wrong with slathering Thyrus’ ego while she was at it.
“Those documents aren’t supposed to leave the sacred halls. If Angus is caught taking them past the front doors, he’d either be ejected from the council entirely or worse. Particularly with the bad blood between him and the malran. Even Maxis couldn’t have sold Angus on such a risk.”
“Not even if those texts pushed Eryx off the throne?” Serena stood and paced the room. She trailed her hand along the books beside her. “I don’t need everything. Only a few. The oldest he can find. If he’s smart about it, no one would be the wiser. For all I care, he can smuggle the damned things back as soon as we’re done.”
“We?”
Damn. If she didn’t get a grip on her emotions and thoughts, she’d end up hanging herself long before she reached her goals.
“Uther,” she said. “He’s got information we may be able to use against the malran, but it’s in the old tongue.” A vague enough statement to stir Thyrus and Angus’ interest. Not enough to admit she hadn’t actually laid eyes on said leverage. “Speaking of which, I need a few of our warriors. Two you’re sure are loyal to the Rebellion.”
Thyrus shook his head and crossed his arms. Barely. Hard to get a grip when you had to fight so much girth. “I’d have better luck convincing Angus to help us. The malran’s proclaimed all Rebellion men who surrender and offer what information they know will gain leniency. All the ones with a shred of common sense have taken him up on it. I’m not sure there’s a Rebellion man to be found at this point.”
Fantastic. An opportunity to unseat Eryx and she had a whopping army of none. She tapped her fingernail against the bookcase. There had to be a way to figure out what Uther was up to. Even with her piss-poor masking skills, she’d give combing his home a try if she could make it past the front door.
She’d deal with that task after she got this one under control. Four days was all she had to get her hands on the texts before Uther came calling. “Fine. Work on Angus and see what he can do.” She strolled back to her father’s desk and made herself at home in his well-worn chair. “One way or another, I’ll make sure it’s worth his risk.”
* * *
Holy cow. If Walt Disney could see Trinity now, he’d have put a whole different spin on Future World at Epcot. A cool gray fog surrounded her in a long and comfortably wide tunnel. Diamond-like sparkles glinted in vibrant shades of teal, cotton-candy-pink, and pearlescent white.
Ramsay’s hand tightened on her arm as they walked, whether to stop her from gawking or making sure she stayed upright, she wasn’t sure. God knew she had a right to swoon. She’d have happily skipped into the mystical portal on a normal day, but Ramsay swishing her out her apartment window and up into the skies like Superman kind of jumbled her insides.
Ludan’s deep, almost angry voice behind them seemed blasphemous in the peaceful space. “Eryx know we’re coming?”
Ramsay nodded. His jawline strained so hard it would probably snap in two if she so much as tapped it.
The surface beneath her feet shifted from something solid to mushy and inconsequential. She wobbled to the left.
Ramsay clenched her arm harder.
“I could have taken care of myself,” she muttered, more embarrassed than angry. If she was bound for public enemy number one in Ramsay’s world, she’d at least like to have a little grace in getting there.
A muscle flexed in Ramsay’s cheek.
“You’ve got the box,” she said. “You don’t need me anymore, so you may as well save yourself the pissed off bit and let me go home.”
He jerked to a stop, and Ludan and Jagger halted behind them. He glared at her for all of two seconds, then motioned Ludan and Jagger toward the sparkling darkness at the end of the tunnel.
Jagger rolled his eyes and shook his head, but the men marched on as directed.
Ramsay inched closer, his hand still brutally clamped around her arm. “You think I’m pissed about bringing you to Eden?”
“Oh, so now you want to talk. Well, fine. We’ll talk.” And then she’d make sure he knew exactly where he could stick it. “What I think is you’re mad I didn’t tell you about my secret sooner. But if you’d pull your head out of your butt, you’d see it’s the same thing you did to me. Only I forgave you. If you’re not willing to do the same, then let me go and quit punishing me. I did what I thought
I had to do, same as you.”
He snapped back and studied her face. “It’s not the deception. It’s something I’m not even sure you’re in control of and not a topic I’m gonna dive into until I know you’re safe and I have a chance to clear my head.”
“Then do you think you can at least unwind the He-Man grip?” She rolled her shoulder to accent her point. “I can walk fine on my own and I’m not particularly partial to bruises.”
Instantly, he loosened his grip and shoved the sleeve of her T-shirt out of the way with the other. “Fuck.” His eyes met hers, and his silver gaze darkened to match the tunnel fog. “I’m sorry. I just…” He shook his head and refocused on the bruises already setting up shop. With a tender touch, he traced the patterns left behind on her skin.
A funny tingle filtered into her muscles, followed by a sharp sting and an odd knotting sensation. Like a flu shot, but in reverse.
He let her go and waved toward the end of the tunnel. “I’ll follow. If you need me—”
“I’ll be fine.” She stomped toward the exit. Stupid men and their double standards. She understood she’d hurt him holding back, but what the heck else could she do beyond apologize?
Ugh. She’d think about that later. She had her own issues to wrap her head around. Ramsay had said Eryx was expecting them, so maybe she’d get to see Lexi again. It’d be nice to have some time to get to know her, especially if they were related. Even better if they’d let her peek in the box and see if there were any mementos from her real family.
Not twenty feet from the tunnel’s edge, the fine hairs along her arms and the back of her neck stirred. Almost as if she’d walked into an electrically-charged cloud. Funny, but the air felt cooler too. The kind of chill that invigorated your body and made for perfect campouts and bonfires.
The bruises on her arm pulsed and burned. Not so chilly there.
She inhaled deep, and the crisp bite of grass and something floral whisked through the entrance now a stone’s throw away. Two more steps and—
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