She nodded like that wasn’t news. “There were a few times that I followed you, just to make sure you were okay.” She shrugged. “Of course, being human and hired as the help meant I couldn’t do much for you; but I did try to help you whenever and however I could.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you remember a few times when you found cardboard boxes outside your door filled with bandages and other medical supplies and sometimes food?”
I gave her a slow nod, forgetting the errant disc for the moment. Her words returned me to a time and place that I hadn’t visited in many years. “I always thought they were from Luce,” I said somewhat reluctantly. “As if he could have cared enough to leave anything for me.” I shook my head, annoyed that my younger self could have ever even considered something so ridiculous.
“Yeah, they weren’t from Luce. They were from me.” Betta smiled and lowered her eyes.
“You?” I repeated incredulously. I couldn’t help but smile when it suddenly dawned on me that I had had a friend at the camp all along, even if I never realized it.
She nodded. “Yep. That was me.”
“Thank you,” I said softly. “You’ll never know how important those boxes became to me.”
Betta smiled proudly. “I watched you blossom into this dedicated and amazing warrior I now see before me. Every time Luce tried to tear you down, you defied him. You always got right back up with your head held high.”
I couldn’t respond because my throat suddenly felt tight.
“I watched you every day, Bryn. And secretly, I rooted for you because you were a girl and young, just like me. I thought maybe one day we could be friends.” She smiled even wider. “And now, look at us.”
I nodded but didn’t say anything. Whatever point she was trying to illustrate with her conversation was probably working, even though I was so dense to my emotions I wasn’t really sure what that point was.
She glanced down and then looked back into my eyes. “I watched you grow up and I observed all the pain and arduous hurdles that Luce put you through. I know who you are, Bryn. I know you better than anyone else does.”
Everything she was saying was true, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond. Instead, I just stood there dumbly, without saying anything. I was nothing less than stunned to know that someone was actually watching all the torment I endured at the hands of Luce. And although part of me wanted to demand why she never let me know she was there, if only so I didn’t feel so alone, I understood the soul-gripping fear that Luce could create in someone. And Betta was a human worker, which meant she could easily be replaced, so her fear must have been all the greater.
“And I saw you the day you battled that bear,” she continued. My heart sunk at the chilling memory that, to this day, had never left me. Even though I hated it, I instantly relived the feelings that passed through me when I’d first glimpsed the immense size and shape of the bear. How small I’d felt, and how helpless.
I clenched my eyes against the tears that even now threatened to break through. “The bear roared so loud,” I said in a trembling voice. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get the memory of the sound out of my head.” I inhaled deeply as the memories continued to plague me. “I remember closing my eyes and listening to his breathing—his heavy paws as he slammed them against the ground and that guttural growl. When I opened my eyes, he was already leaping at me, and I scrambled to get away from him. I tripped over my own feet and fell onto my back. Then I remembered my sword. I thrust it upward at the exact same time that he came down on top of me. The sword impaled his throat, piercing his skull and severing his spinal cord. He died instantly and …”
I felt the words fall off my tongue as the unhappy memory again invaded all of my thoughts. Without realizing it, my hands were fisting at my sides.
“And?” Betta asked, her eyes wide with anticipation.
“And a part of me died that day too. I’d never killed anything before, and that bear was so huge and beautiful and perfect.”
She nodded as if this wasn’t any news to her. “I remember after he died, you hugged him.”
“His weight was crushing me, but I didn’t care,” I answered with a wistful smile, one that I didn’t feel. “I remember wishing he’d suffocate the life out of me. I wanted to go with him. He didn’t deserve to die; and at that moment, I believed I didn’t deserve to live.”
I sucked in a big breath of air and tried to wash the horrible image from my mind. There was no use in thinking about it now. The bear was dead and I wasn’t. It served as a good reminder. I knew what Luce was capable of, how cold he could be, and how deadly.
“I know what Luce might do and you know it too,” I started. “My sister doesn’t. She doesn’t know him as well as I do.” Then I glanced over at Betta. “As well as we do.” She nodded her approval. “So if you came here to discover what I’m doing out here, this is what I’m doing. I’m training alone rather than attempting to save Sinjin from that monster.”
Rather than doing what I should be doing, and what I would rather be doing, I added to myself.
“I know you’re worried about Sinjin,” Betta said. “But you know how strong he is.”
I gave her a sideways look at the same time that I heard a whizz in the air. It was off to my right side. I turned around at the exact moment that the disc chose to reappear. I studied its movements, but it zigzagged through the air, with no clear trajectory. I waited, focusing and watching its progression. Something told me this disc wouldn’t go down easily. It picked up speed and zipped up and back down before it whipped to the right and veered off to the left.
When it was close enough, I readied my boomerang but then decided against it. This time, I wanted to test my magic. I dropped the boomerang and ran directly toward the disc. Bending down, it seemed to double in speed as it came for me. Summoning my magic, I honed in on the disc with my eyes, imagining it exploding in a fiery display. A half second later, it did exactly that.
Betta gasped.
“I know you had a part to play in Sinjin attacking Luce,” I said as I addressed her. If we were going to exchange secrets, now it was her turn to do some explaining.
“Bryn, he was going to go one way or another,” she answered, sounding defensive. “You know Sinjin. Once he makes up his mind …”
“It’s impossible to change it,” I finished for her, shaking my head in annoyance because I’d heard this same thing way too often. As far as I was concerned, Sinjin got away with almost anything just because he was Sinjin. That was a bullshit reason, if you asked me.
“If I hadn’t helped Sinjin by describing the layout of the camp and answering all of his questions, you know Luce would have gotten the upper hand,” she explained. Apparently, she was having a hard time keeping her gaze on mine. And I understood why. She had to be suffering from some level of guilt or remorse in her choice to assist Sinjin. Especially since he couldn’t be accounted for now.
“If you hadn’t helped him, maybe he wouldn’t have gone,” I argued.
“Do you really believe that?” she fired back at me.
I sighed. “No.” I took three steps to close the gap between us. “Regardless, this was a no-win situation.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“If Sinjin actually had made it inside the compound, and gotten past the barbed wire fence, the magicked wards, and the security, think about it. Think of how outnumbered he was to begin with! There’s no way he could have taken on everyone.”
“That was never his plan,” Betta argued. “He was only going after the men who hurt you.”
“And you really think he didn’t encounter anyone else?” I asked as I shook my head. “You know how secure that compound is, Betta.”
“I do know,” she answered, “but I also know how capable Sinjin is, and I still have faith in him.” She took a breath. “I believe in him.”
“Let’s just say, for the sake of argument, that he was successful an
d he escaped,” I hypothesized. “We both know what happens next. Luce will retaliate.” I took another step toward her, and this time, I lowered my voice and my words were serious and concerned. “Even if Luce killed Sinjin, it won’t be enough. He will still seek revenge on me, on Rachel, on you, and everyone else.” I stared at her while she fought to argue with me. “You know what I’m saying is true.”
Betta swallowed hard, and I finally sensed my words were sinking in. When she looked up at me again, her eyes were wide with concern. “I don’t know what will happen,” she started, “but I will admit that I’m scared for Sinjin. I’m worried why he isn’t back yet and that no one has heard from him.” She dropped her gaze to the ground and her voice trailed off as she looked up at me again. “You don’t think anything happened to him, do you?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “But if he did manage to kill anyone or hurt anyone in that compound, it will only make Luce’s retaliation worse.” I shook my head as my words echoed through me. All of this was on my shoulders because Sinjin was avenging me. Something that still angered me to my core.
Betta lifted her chin. I recognized that determined expression. Even though she was only human, lacking any powers whatsoever, Betta had a rebellious streak and a tough exterior. I admired her for both.
“He was going to do it with or without my help, Bryn,” she explained. “So even though you’re angry with me now, I’m sure you wouldn’t have wanted me to let Sinjin attack the camp without any previous knowledge of it.”
“I didn’t want him to go anywhere near it, Betta! This is my life and the decision to avenge me should have been mine! If something has happened to Sinjin, it’s permanently branded on my conscience!”
“No,” Betta shook her head and sat down next to a tree. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she rested her chin on her knees. “None of this is on you,” she insisted. “It was Sinjin’s decision, and he has to be responsible for his actions. He’s stubborn and arrogant, but …” she grabbed a handful of leaves and crushed them.
“But?”
“He genuinely cares, Bryn … about you. He cares a lot about you.”
“Sinjin cares about no one but himself, Betta. Once you learn that, you’ll be a better woman for it.” And that thought angered me. Of course, I knew why he’d gone to the compound in the first place. Sinjin was someone who sought out glory wherever he could find it. And what better way to impress his queen than by avenging her wronged sister?
“I think you’re wrong.”
“I’m not wrong,” I argued. “You are too naive in how you look at the world. Not everyone is motivated by goodness or kindness or trust.”
“I know that,” she spat back.
“You don’t act like it,” I ranted. “You look at the world through rose-colored lenses and it’s not doing you any favors. Sinjin isn’t some knight in shining armor like you try so hard to make him out to be.”
“You’re being too harsh on him, Bryn,” Betta interjected. “Who was there the day we escaped from Montana? Do you remember when we were trudging through the forest, and you were so dizzy, you could hardly even walk?”
I sighed and stared at my friend. Betta had a raging crush on Sinjin, just like most women who crossed his path. I suspect that over the past six hundred years, he must have captured just as many hearts. But I wasn’t impressed. “Your point?” I asked.
“My point is that he cares about you!” she roared at me. “He chased down your attackers and killed them for harming you!”
“Or so you presume to believe. We have no idea what truly happened.”
“The point is that Sinjin isn’t an ice-cold monster like you make him out to be. No, he isn’t perfect. Yes, he’s motivated by his own self-interests, but he’s also a good man!”
“Next time he’s in legal trouble, he should call on you to defend him,” I said with a smirk I didn’t enjoy.
“You can go on thinking whatever you want about him, but personally, I consider the whole thing pretty romantic.” Betta grabbed a small, yellow flower growing in a dusty field of brown and plucked it from the arid dirt. Pulling off one petal after another, I inwardly scoffed at the inanity of her words.
“Romantic?” I asked as I shook my head. “Hardly!”
She lifted her eyes to mine and frowned at me. “I think it’s sweet that he defended your honor.”
Betta meant a lot to me. Hell, she had been there when I really needed her. I’d protect her with my life, but right now, she was annoying the living shit out of me! I couldn’t figure out her way of thinking—believing that life was just a fairy tale and Sinjin was the prince. He wasn’t!
“I have more training to do,” I said with finality. I picked up three discs, throwing each one straight ahead of me, and closed my eyes as I slid into a fighting stance.
“Well, when you’re ready to talk, you know I’m always here for you,” Betta said. I heard her getting to her feet a few moments later and knew I was alone again.
SIX
Bryn
The next evening, I couldn’t sleep. After tossing and turning for two hours, I gave up. In no time, I found myself in the forest again … training. The solitude had become my favorite escape, my haven. It meant I didn’t have to pretend in front of everyone else, acting like I was as normal as they were. It meant I didn’t have to plaster on a smile or blabber with small talk, the kind that I nearly choked on.
Out here in the trees and the darkness, I was so free. I could come and go as I pleased, without any chance to engage with anyone. I could be myself, the imperfect and very flawed Bryn, and no one could judge me.
Just don’t address any people who aren’t there and you’ll be fine, I warned myself, still completely ill-at-ease with the whole hallucination situation. I figured Betta had kept her promise and hadn’t breathed a word of it because no one showed up, or asked me why I was having full-blown conversations with invisible people.
That was just a minor blip, and now I’m fully recovered, I said to myself. I haven’t had any other visitations so I’m going to chalk that whole episode up to having too much on my mind at once.
Yes, stress does all sorts of things to a person …
I didn’t bring my boomerang with me this time. Instead, I practiced my speed and agility. Sinjin told me that I could never be faster than a vampire, and I was determined to prove him wrong, whether I saw him again or not.
God, I really hope I see him again, that inward voice sounded. I had to forcibly silence it and focus instead on the task at hand.
Although I lacked his skills when it came to materializing and vanishing, I did possess magic, and that was worth a hell of a lot.
“I’d put my magic up against any of your abilities any day,” I ground out. Addressing Sinjin or even talking to myself or the trees was something that I quickly reminded myself I needed to stop doing.
I closed my eyes for the nth time and imagined a cocoon of blue light encircling me, fortifying my quickly waning energy reserves. The more I focused, the more my skin fluttered with electricity as my magic surrounded me. It always filled me up with something that felt almost like effervescence.
Tired, sweaty, and dirty as I was, I didn’t care. I needed this badly. It was the only thing that brought me any sort of joy and managed to distract my addled mind from everything else. It was the only way I could avoid getting lost in my worry over Sinjin.
“You’ve got this,” I said to myself. Opening my eyes, I took in the forest in front of me which was bathed in moonlight. I stretched my fingers out, and the thrum of my magic was still pulsating through them. Slowly inhaling a deep breath, I bounded forward, running as quickly as I could. The wind blew on my face, and the trees surrounding me became no more than a blur from my peripheral vision. But my focus was right in front of me. I was heading toward a massive ash tree with an enormous trunk.
Faster! I prodded myself as I dug my nails into my palms and picked up speed. When I was two feet away
from the ash, I slowed down, bending my knees before jumping as high as I could. I sailed through the air, easily five feet off the ground, before throwing my right foot out after my left. I brought it up against the trunk of the tree, which shook the branches considerably.
I rolled into a ball as soon as I hit the ground and hopped back up onto my feet, more than pleased with my performance. Pleased but exhausted. As I stood there panting and trying to regulate my breathing, I felt a change in the air. It wasn’t much; just the slightest current of jostled atmosphere that touched my face.
I closed my eyes so I could rely on my other senses to trace the source of the disturbance. It was off to my right and just behind me.
Please, please, don’t be someone who isn’t there, I thought to myself. At the same time, I closed my fist and twirled around. I took a swing and opened my eyes just as my clenched hand nailed whatever invisible entity was in the process of manifesting behind me.
The impact threw me into a sideways tumble and I landed on my back with a loud thud. The forest around me echoed with the screeches of the birds as they fled the trees closest to me. But I failed to give them much attention because I was having a hell of a time trying to catch my breath.
It felt like an invisible pile of rocks was crushing the top of my chest and compacting my lungs. The wind was knocked out of me as I gasped for air. Suddenly, a shadow moved over my body, blocking the moonlight behind me and bathing me in inky darkness.
“Bête noire?”
His voice was as smooth and rich as butter. An instantaneous sense of warmth settled through me. Warmth mixed with relief. My relief soon turned to fear as I wondered if this voice really belonged to Sinjin or I was losing my mind again and just imagining him.
I tried to say his name but my body still felt like a flattened pancake, and I only managed to make a whiny sort of noise. He bent over me, inspecting me with a sly smile. It might as well have been his calling card. His ice-blue eyes danced with genuine mirth as his smirk became a legitimately handsome grin.
The Gentleman: A Vampire Romance Series (The Bryn and Sinjin Series Book 4) Page 13