Waking Eden (The Eden Series Book 3)

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Waking Eden (The Eden Series Book 3) Page 29

by Rhenna Morgan


  The slab stood like a gravestone behind her. Cold and so very final.

  “Think about it,” Kazan said. “My interference cost me ten years of pain, but it cost your mother her sanity and her life. She never knew why I’d been taken from her. Imagine how alone she felt. How devastated. If you can’t think of the price you’ll pay, think of the pain you’ll deal Ramsay.”

  “Ramsay would pay it to save his race.”

  “Are you sure? Do you really think he’d give you up? Even to save his race? Because I don’t.” He held his silence until she met his eyes. “Please, sweetheart. Don’t do this. Trust them to find a way. Encourage him, but don’t—”

  “You’re crossing the line, Kazan.” The Black King’s voice rumbled like thunder. “Her will is her own.”

  “I’m her father, not her Spiritu.”

  The Black King’s eyes met hers, warm and chilling all at once. “It’s her choice.”

  “Then give her the facts.” Kazan lurched forward, invading the Black King’s space. “You know what she means to do. Tell her what the consequences are if she goes through with it.”

  “She knows enough to weigh her conscience,” the king said. “No decisions can be made with absolute certainty. Hers are no exception.”

  “Does it hurt?” Trinity asked.

  The Black King smiled, slow and sensual. Her body heated instantly, the pleasure so intense she could barely pull in a full breath. “Far from it. Your body was made to cradle your gifts. It will welcome your powers the way a mother welcomes her babe. Nestle into your soul the way you curl around your mate late at night.”

  Something tugged at her heart. To accept her gifts? Or to return to Ramsay? Surely this was the right thing. A purpose that served the greater good.

  “Can you face the punishment, Trinity?” her father said quietly. “Is it worth never seeing Ramsay again?”

  Her pleasure or Ramsay’s entire life? That’s what it really came down to. If someone else led the Myren race, someone not as fair as the Shantos line, what would happen to his race? Or humans?

  She faced the black and white marble and pressed both hands against its chilly surface. The colors seemed to move and swirl on their own, imitating the riotous emotions pushing and pulling her heart. She could do this. Ramsay would do it for her. “I want this.”

  * * *

  Ramsay paced the black rock ledge outside his lodge, impatience and fear crippling what speck of logic he had left. Trinity wasn’t in the lodge, not that he’d really expected her to be. In his gut, he knew where she was.

  Winrun.

  There had to be a way to get there. To stop her. But damned if his head would get its shit together and form some kind of strategy.

  The ocean wind whipped a few loose chunks of hair against his forehead and cheeks in an almost painful lash. Not nearly the punishment he deserved. He should’ve stayed with her. Should’ve made sure she knew she came before the prophecy.

  He glared at the red-rimmed setting sun. He needed help. Bad. Maybe he should bounce some ideas off Eryx. Or Lexi. Lexi had a way of thinking things through. And she was a woman. The Great One knew he could use a little guidance in with navigating the feminine mindset right now.

  “What am I? Chopped liver?”

  Ramsay spun toward the lodge. No one behind him. No presence pinging against his Myren senses. Just the sun’s red reflected in the lodge’s window above and rocks, plants, and the fire pit on the terrace below.

  “My presence won’t ever register unless I want it to.”

  That voice. He knew it.

  “Of course, you know it. Not that you listened to it very well up until now.”

  His Spiritu. Vyree.

  A circular space near the terrace wall wavered and a woman dressed all in black shimmered into view. She lay on her back atop the hip-high stone wall, one leg crossed over the other, casual as could be. Her maroon hair with its cobalt blue streaks hung loose, nearly to the ground.

  “The waitress,” he said mostly to himself. He shook himself out of his stupor. “You were the waitress at Louis, the night Trinity and I went out.”

  “Yep.” She rolled her head toward him, then propped herself on one elbow. “Couldn’t get you to listen to me the normal way. Figured I’d drop in and meddle face to face.” Her mouth screwed up in a dramatic pucker. “You’re a tough nut to crack, Ramsay Shantos. Good thing I’m not a quitter.”

  “I thought you weren’t supposed to show yourself.”

  She swung upright, cocked her head, and grinned. “You want me to go? I could have sworn you were asking for help, but if you’d rather stick to folks you know—”

  “No!” He stepped forward and then checked his impulse. The last thing he needed right now was to scare off someone with a roadmap to Winrun. “I didn’t know you were an option. I mean…” Damn, he was really fucking this up. “I mean I was too stupid to remember you were there.”

  Vyree smiled so bright it seemed the setting sun moved in reverse and brightened the whole hillside. “Oh, that’s smooth. I’ll give you points for a quick save.” She swung her legs and hunched forward, gripping the side of the wall. “Do you have any clue what you’re about to go up against?”

  “I know my baineann’s about to make a decision based on what she thinks I want instead of what she wants. If it means keeping her safe and making sure she’s making decisions for the right reasons, then it doesn’t really matter what I’m up against.”

  Vyree’s legs kept swinging.

  “Please,” he said. “Help me find her.”

  Her legs stopped. “You’ll do anything?”

  “Anything.”

  “Whatever it takes?”

  “Anything.”

  She narrowed her eyes and an unnatural gust of wind tossed her wine-colored hair in a wild mess. With a sharp nod, she hopped off the wall and crossed her arms. “Good, ’cause penance for this is going to suck. Glad to know it’s going to be worth it.”

  Thank The Great One. For a minute there, he’d thought she was Splitsville.

  “You ever watch The Wizard of Oz?” she asked.

  “The what?”

  “The Wizard of Oz. You know, Dorothy, Toto, and the rest of the crew.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake, she wanted to talk pop culture now? “Yeah, I know it.”

  “It’s kind of like that,” she said. “‘There’s no place like home.’ That kind of thing.”

  “You’re kidding me,” he bit back. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” She waved her hand at him in an up and down motion. “Close your eyes. Focus on your link and follow it.”

  Hands down, this had to be the trippiest conversation of his lifetime. Not like he had a shit-ton-full of options right now, and she’d damn sure come through with the mating. He closed his eyes.

  “Now focus,” she said. “Center on the link. Lose your physical self and follow it.”

  He opened himself to the link and his body seemed to pitch to one side, like a boat caught off guard by a big wave.

  “Yep, like that,” Vyree said. “Stay focused. Don’t let go.”

  His stomach heaved. He’d done some crazy aerial antics, but this was brutal. Tilt-a-Hurl times twenty. “Praise The Great One…”

  “Hang in there,” she said from not too far away. Her voice had dropped. Far more serious. “Don’t let go. Will it. Want it.”

  A buzz started in his ears. Loud. Louder. Growing until he thought his eardrums would surely pop.

  Silence.

  Kazan growled from somewhere beside him, “What are you doing here?”

  Ramsay opened his eyes. Pitch black stretched out beneath Ramsay and white fog surrounded everything else. At the end of the formless room was a tall marble slab with Trinity laid out on top, a white gauzy fabric covering her.

  Kazan stood two steps down from Trinity, a murderous scowl on his face. At the foot of the slab stood the White Queen, hands clasped peacefully at her waist. The Black King ho
vered near Trinity’s head. He lifted his hands and held them over Trinity’s face.

  “No!” Ramsay shot forward.

  An unseen power circled his waist and jerked him to a stop just out of Trinity’s reach.

  “You cannot stop what she has requested.” Though his lips hadn’t moved, the Black King’s voice rumbled all around.

  “I’m not here to stop her.” The words shot out on instinct.

  The Black King dropped his hands, twisted, and met Ramsay’s gaze. “What other purpose would bring you here?”

  Ramsay scrambled for answers. The answer was important. He didn’t know how he knew it, but every part of him screamed to state his purpose carefully.

  Vyree could help him. Maybe.

  “Wow,” Vyree said with a chuckle. “Twice in one day. This will take some getting used to.”

  He stifled a groan. “Please. Help me.”

  “It’s easy. Tell him what you told me.”

  Fuck. He could barely remember what he had for breakfast, let alone all the serious conversations from today. He shook his head and replayed the time since Vyree had appeared.

  A spunky faery. Realizing she was the waitress. Tough nut to crack. Making decisions for the right reasons…

  “I just need to talk to her first,” he blurted. “If she wants her gifts because that’s what she wants, then I will fully support her. But if she wants them to give me answers, that’s the wrong reason. I need her to know before she accepts them that she comes first. Not the prophecy. Not my race. Not my family. Nothing comes before her.”

  The White Queen dipped her head and covered her mouth, but smiled behind her fingers.

  The force around his waist relented.

  The Black King stepped to Trinity’s side and peeled the gauzy fabric back. He waved a hand over her face. “Your fireann is most anxious to speak with you.”

  Trinity’s eyes fluttered open. She stared at the misty white cloud above them for one or two heartbeats and rolled her head toward him. “Ramsay.”

  Ramsay closed the distance between them and gripped her hand. Cold. Too damned cold. “You don’t have to do this. I mean, if you want your gifts, I’m great with that. But I don’t need answers. Not like this.”

  “What makes you think that’s why I’m here?”

  “Lexi. She told me about your questions. And Brenna. She said you were worried. Scared.”

  Her gaze drifted to Kazan, who’d moved in close. “A lot of people would be saved, Ramsay. Your people. My people.” She squeezed his hand. “Tell me the truth. You’d do it for me, wouldn’t you?”

  He leaned in and brushed her hair off her forehead. “It’s not the same, Sunshine. I’d give anything for you. My family. My life. Anything.”

  She smiled and a tear slid down her temple. “Exactly.” She stared at him for long seconds. Heartbeats that stabbed brutally within his chest. She lifted her gaze to the Black King. “Go ahead.”

  A second, maybe less, and the same unforgiving force ripped him from Trinity’s side.

  “This is wrong,” Kazan rumbled beside him. Even with his formidable size and strength, Trinity’s father fought against the same unbending force. “She’s doing this for the wrong reason. You know that. How can you let her do this?”

  The Black King pulled the fabric back over Trinity’s head and her eyelids slid shut.

  Ramsay struggled against the power coiled around him. “Trinity!”

  “Damn it all!” Kazan banged against the invisible wall and the air between them rippled like a pebble cast against a smooth lake. He focused on the White Queen. “Stop this! She shouldn’t be forced to choose this way. It’s wrong.”

  Ramsay dug his feet into the onyx ground and strained against the transparent wall. Every muscle stretched. Every ligament and bone creaked to the point of breaking. Please, God. Not this. Not Trinity.

  “If the circumstances change, she should be granted re-evaluation,” Kazan said to the White Queen. “Do you agree?”

  The White Queen lifted her head, her expression tense.

  “Do you agree?” Kazan asked again.

  The White Queen nodded.

  Kazan gripped Ramsay’s shoulder in an iron grip. “Then I forfeit. What I give him is freely given and my life forfeit.”

  Trinity’s eyes opened.

  The Black King lowered his hand and the White Queen nodded.

  Pain jolted through Ramsay, unforgiving, torturous pain, woven with a fire’s burn. A tormented scream echoed all around him.

  No, not one. Two screams. His and Trinity’s.

  And then, nothing but black.

  Chapter 35

  Serena steadied her breath and focused on keeping her mind calm as Uther levitated them through the castle front door in the path of a hurried warrior. “So that’s how you do it.”

  Uther grunted a mental agreement and tightened his arm around her waist in warning. “Now where?”

  Histus if she knew. Off to one side of the foyer, the formal receiving room doors stood open. Easy enough to navigate in the quieter portion of the castle. “Try the receiving room. Up and on the left.”

  Uther hesitated, then drifted forward.

  Damn but this was going to be a pain in the ass situation. With Uther glued to her back, she’d never be able to swipe the key even if she did manage to find it. There had to be some way to get him to let her go on her own.

  He combed the room in slow, cautious movements. “Anything?”

  “No. Nothing here. We need books. A library maybe.”

  As they floated toward the doors, a feminine voice sounded on the staircase. “You did the right thing, Brenna,” Lexi said. “Ramsay needed to know. There’s not a thing for you to worry about.”

  Uther and Serena crested the threshold just as Lexi and a petite, young brunette with light skin reached the first floor.

  Lexi clasped the girl’s hand. “Remember. We’re in this together.” She smiled, wrapped the girl in a side hug, and dangled a black pendant in front of them. “Come on. We’ll get Trinity’s stuff locked up and then track down Galena and Orla. Something tells me we’ll need all the female backup we can stand when the guys get back.”

  Trinity. Not a name Serena recognized. Brenna though, she looked familiar. “Follow them.”

  Uther dropped in behind the women, far enough back their murmured words were indistinguishable, but close enough to hide their presence in the women’s energy wake.

  Two arched panels Serena had always thought to be ornate walls opened beneath the staircase. Beyond them stretched a long room with books lining either side, casual sitting areas clustered in homey sections throughout, and a two-story window at the end.

  Brenna paced to the window and hugged herself as though chilled.

  Lexi hustled to an elegant antique desk angled in one corner. The malress’ desk. The same one Eryx’s mother had sat behind and countless malresses before her.

  Heat blasted Serena from the inside out. Lexi’s voice registered in some dim corner of her mind, but the content didn’t stick. That should be her desk. Would be hers.

  Her gaze slid to the matching, albeit larger desk in the opposite corner. Eryx’s.

  Scratch that. She’d take the malran’s desk and use Lexi’s to fuel the hearth.

  With the soft scrape of wood on wood, Lexi pulled a dark box from her desk drawer and carefully placed the pendant inside. She studied whatever lay inside a moment, thoughtful, then closed up the box and tucked it back in the drawer.

  “Does it bother you?” Lexi looked up at Brenna, still staring out the window and the ocean beyond. “The powers and knowing how different your life can be now?”

  “This is the only life I’ve known. What I’d really like is a chance to know the life I didn’t get to live.” Brenna turned at Lexi’s approach. “Do you think he’ll ever let me visit? Maybe spend a little time in Evad and get to know my mom?”

  The human. Maxis’ little slave. Though she sure looked a lot bet
ter now than she had under Maxis’ control. More color to her skin and a mass of wavy dark hair well past her shoulders. Her figure wasn’t too shabby either. No wonder Maxis had kept her in those sack-like slave robes. Better to keep his little toy hidden from envious male guests.

  Lexi steered Brenna away from the window and through the library doors. “Maybe once all the hubbub dies down and we get a better handle on the prophecy. We’re already close, with or without whatever answers Trinity brings home.”

  Uther’s arm tightened at her waist.

  “Relax,” she told him. “If we get the translation tables, we’ll slow them down. Check Eryx’s desk. I’ll check Lexi’s.”

  “Hold your mask in place,” he said as he drifted away.

  Serena hurried to the drawer Lexi had opened. The Shantos mark was etched in black atop the box, deep and carefully detailed by someone with substantial skill. She opened it where it sat. A smallish journal in worn chocolate leather, the pendant, and the picture of a woman with long, nearly platinum hair. It was a profile shot, the woman laughing up at some unseen presence.

  “What am I looking for?” Uther’s irritation bristled down her spine to match his words.

  She fingered the black filigree pendant. A sword twined in ivy. An exact match to Lexi’s mark. Funny. It didn’t look like a pendant. Not really. It was too clunky for anyone to consider it pretty. She certainly wouldn’t wear it.

  “Serena, what am I looking for?” Uther barked.

  “Something big. Similar to the one I got from Angus. Maybe older,” she said.

  The mark of your family will be the key.

  Of whose family? Lexi’s?

  She glanced at Eryx’s desk. Nothing there save a drawer sliding outward seemingly on its own. Thank The Great One Uther couldn’t see her any more than she could see him. She tucked the journal and the pendant into her pocket and moved to the next drawer.

  “Something like this?”

  Serena checked the foyer beyond for any signs of movement and levitated toward Uther. Nestled in the lowest compartment of Eryx’s desk was a wide tome wrapped in black felt, an edition almost identical to the one locked up in Angus’ safe.

 

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