by Cecy Robson
But at what cost? My thumb traced over Shah, the motion helping to lessen my hysteria and sort things through. “Tura could have forced any one of you to send those vamps and weres after me. That’s how they found me in the ED.”
Shayna shook her head. “But Shah wasn’t there with you—he was already in the stronghold. At least, that’s as far as everyone knew.”
“Unless Tura knew something you didn’t,” Makawee reasoned. “When Shah attached himself to you, Celia, Tura knew or at least felt that link.”
Misha lifted his chin. “If Shah attached himself to Celia, can Tura take Shah’s power or use Celia as his holder to obtain what he wishes?”
Our unease swelled and the world seemed to stop spinning, waiting for Makawee’s response. She considered me, frowning ever so slightly. Genevieve and Delilah limped forward, stealing glances at Makawee as if they understood what was happening. “You don’t consider yourself Shah’s holder. Do you, child?” Makawee asked.
“No,” I answered truthfully. “For all that Shah’s a rock, he’s a being with his own thoughts and feelings. I’ve felt his pain, I know he hurts. I have no business owning or claiming something so human.”
For the first time, Aric’s eyes softened. Even if I hadn’t spoken aloud, he knew me well enough to know I’d never force an innocent to do something against his will. To me, Shah was simply that. “Had anyone else found Shah, things would have been disastrous,” he said.
Delilah didn’t seem to hold my beliefs in the same regard. “But if you declare yourself as Shah’s holder, you could wish all this away, shug.”
“Or give Tura full access to him,” I countered.
“You don’t know that,” Genevieve said.
“I think you’re wrong,” I told her. “I’m better since Shah attached himself to me. He’s helped me without asking, but only because I haven’t asked.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” a were standing behind Aric said. She averted her gaze when Aric glared at her.
“It does to me. I don’t think—” I paused to glance at Shah. “—scratch that. Tura can’t force me to attack someone else, but like Genevieve said, he can still infect my mind. I’m seeing things. Bad things from my past…”
“We’ll stop him,” Aric ground out. I imagined he had an inkling of what I was referring to.
“And how are we going to do that?” Taran asked. “Look, this Tura guy isn’t screwing around.” Her eyes became bloodshot when she pointed at me. She was trying not to cry, but her tears were seconds from releasing. “I saw what he showed Celia. And even though the images were clouded, I’ll remember them for the rest of my life.” Her voice trailed off and at first I thought she wouldn’t say anything more, yet something in her mind clicked as the severity of our situation appeared to hit her all at once. “I’ve been dreaming of Griselda, the aunt who cursed us—well, of her eyes technically. The image in the reflection replays the murder of our parents—the way I imagine she watched it unfold.”
“She was there that night?” Aric asked me.
I was the one who’d found the gang members who broke into our tiny apartment standing over the bodies of our parents. “I don’t remember seeing her or scenting her,” I told him. “I only remember the men who killed our parents.”
“Celia, I don’t remember seeing Griselda either,” Taran agreed. “But I can’t help wondering if this is all connected somehow.”
“How can it be?” Gemini asked quietly. “You said Griselda was dead.”
Taran wouldn’t look at him when she answered, choosing to wipe some of the soot from her cheeks instead. “That’s what we were told. But let’s face it, my nightmares are only this strong and graphic when something is trying to warn me. Considering everything that has happened, I can’t pretend like this is all some sort of coincidence.”
“I’m starting to see those eyes you speak of, too,” Emme said almost inaudibly. “I have since our return from Malaysia.”
“I started seeing them a few nights ago,” Shayna said. “They were blurry at first, and I didn’t know what they were.” She shrugged. “Now I guess I do.”
“Shit,” Taran muttered. “Why didn’t you say anything? That’s how my dreams started, and look at what they’ve evolved into. This is so messed up!”
“T, calm down,” Shayna said, despite that her voice carried her fear so clearly. “I thought I was just dreaming them because I’d been thinking of you.”
“Well, I guess you were wrong,” Taran answered, her tone frigid. She was terrified. We all were. I thought we should give her a moment, but Genevieve didn’t share my thoughts.
“What is your conscience telling you, Taran?” Genevieve asked her.
“I don’t know. If I did maybe we could figure out a way to kill this thing before it kills someone else!” She pulled away from Gemini when he reached for her. “Don’t,” she snapped. “Just figure out a way to stop this freak before it’s too late.”
Misha hooked my arm and led me back to him. “Until you do, Celia stays with me,” he said, his voice absolute.
Aric moved toward him. “Like hell.”
Misha’s vampires hissed. Aric’s Pack growled. It was just a banner day all around. A faint howl tickled my ears as the Elders used their magic to subdue the wolves. Aric was the hardest to control, but eventually they managed to hold him.
“If Tura can only possess those with a soul and a connection to her, Celia will be safe among those without one,” Misha continued as if uninterrupted. “My call isn’t enough to link us.”
“What about your blood exchange with her?” Aric accused. “You’ve taken more than your share in the past, leech.”
“As a master, he would still have to establish a tie through her. No such bond has been established so she is safe in his presence.” Martin didn’t seem happy about what he had to say, but he wouldn’t lie, especially if it meant sparing my life. “Aric, for Celia’s well-being, you have to let her go.”
Aric turned away from me. It was then that I noticed his horrible burns were healing. Bits of crispy flesh flaked off, revealing fresh skin beneath. I cringed, knowing how much pain he was likely enduring, but also knowing he’d never demonstrate it, above all in the presence of the vampires. What I would have given then to steal him away and care for him.
My attention drifted to the vamps when they sneered. Aric had to let me leave with them, and they knew it. Tura could find me anywhere and strike at any time. That didn’t mean every part of me didn’t want to stay with Aric or that I appreciated their smug responses.
Shah insisted I wasn’t safe. Not with Aric, not with my sisters, not with my friends. For all that he was or wasn’t, I trusted him. And although I didn’t quite trust the witches, there was something I needed to ask Genevieve. “Do you have any idea how to destroy Tura—for real this time?”
She seemed surprised I hadn’t already left the world of the sane, given the circumstances. “I’m not sure how to kill him, without killing who he possesses and even then at the speed in which he moves, he’ll likely invade another vessel.” She considered me. “However, I may be able to block his entry into your sisters at least for a time…and perhaps spare them from your dark memories.”
At this point, I’d take anything I could get.
She leaned on her staff. “Tura may have feasted on Aric’s power, but it wasn’t enough to grant him a corporeal form. He’ll need another host. Keep Shah close, and trust no one. If Tura does get Shah, he’ll be unstoppable.”
Chapter 26
“Celia,” Makawee said quietly. “While I understand that Shah has offered some protection against Tura, it doesn’t mean you’re safe from yourself. If Tura knows your fears, he’ll manipulate them and create new nightmares which could force you to harm yourself.”
“I need to stay with her and protect her,” Aric insisted.
“You know that’s not possible.” Martin’s words were phrased as a statement, but I recognized the order
for what it was. So did Aric, and if he wasn’t furious before, he was then. He stormed to the edge of the terrace, drilling his fists into the stone ledge, trying to rein in his wolf.
Aric didn’t want to hear any more about how Tura could easily invade my mind or possess him and those we loved. He simply wanted to keep me safe. Instead he had to wait helplessly while this asshole drove me insane. I watched him, not believing how ridiculously shitty our situation had become.
“It’s time to depart,” Misha said.
It wasn’t like I could argue. I strolled to where Aric waited. As I walked, I whispered to Shah still clutched in my hands, “Hide.” He vanished before I reached Aric.
For a moment, I simply stood beside him, wanting to feel close to him yet very aware that everyone was watching our every move. “I have to go, wolf.”
“I wish you didn’t have to,” he answered, his jaw tight.
“Me too, love.” I lowered my voice. “Tura can cage my beast. I’m losing her and I’m not sure I can get her back.”
He wasn’t happy about my news. “Maybe you’re just unfocused because of the severity of our situation.”
I shook my head. “I’m losing her, Aric,” I repeated. “If she leaves me completely, I’ll be left defenseless.” It didn’t seem right to dump news like this—not even on him, but I couldn’t stop. “I need you to find a way for us to stop Tura. Baby, I won’t be able to do this alone.”
Aric gently lifted my hands and kissed them. “Listen to me, Celia. Whatever happens you need to believe you’re not alone. I will find a way to help you. In the meantime, you have to find a way to free your beast. Tura can’t keep something so strong away from you—just like he can’t keep me from you.” Those intense light irises flickered back at me, warming me in all the right places and giving me strength to keep from breaking down. “I’ll be with you soon. I swear I will.”
I nodded and pulled away at Misha’s approach. Aric met his gaze. “I’m entrusting you with her life. If anything happens to her on your watch or you use her to gain Shah, no treaty in the world will stop me from killing you.”
“Celia will be safer with me than with you.” The corners of Misha’s lips lifted, revealing his infamous wicked grin. “But I suppose you realize as much, mongrel.”
“Misha, please don’t,” I said when Aric growled. I stood on my toes and kissed his chin, calming him, but realizing that at least for now, we needed to separate. “I’ll call you later. Okay, wolf?”
I walked away at his nod, my head pounding from the stress. The vamps flanked my sides as I passed my sisters. I meant to say goodbye, but the fear claiming them made it hard for me to even meet their eyes. They thought they could hurt me and they were right. Unlike Aric, they didn’t have the ability to force Tura out. So they kept their distance, which hurt me more than I dared to admit.
Like Aric, my sisters had always believed me stronger, tougher, and smarter than I actually was. This was another one of those moments, and they were counting on me to pull through. I wanted to give them hope and assure them we’d triumph. Yet I couldn’t while I knew that which made me strong was leaving me.
I never knew exactly how to reach out to my tigress; I simply did. It was natural, like breathing. Yet although my lungs continued to work, I could feel her fading and I wasn’t sure how to keep her with me.
I frowned as we rounded the corner and a thought occurred to me. Although Tura had prevented my change when he’d forced Aric to attack me, I hadn’t felt my tigress pull away so severely until Shayna stabbed me…and sent me into that hellish nightmare. Was Tura somehow caging her within my dream?
You’re not alone, the voices said again.
I shook my head. The brink of insanity wasn’t for wussies.
We passed a window of the demolished building as we hurried up the incline. It gave me a good view inside, although I wished I hadn’t looked. Bloody ash smeared the walls where some of Misha’s family had met Taran’s fire. Broken glass shone like diamonds against the bright noon sun as it streamed in through the chunks of missing roof. Some of the weres who were cleaning up stopped what they were doing just to glare. I averted my face, not really blaming them for hating me just then.
Misha’s driver started his Hummer limo at our approach. Another vampire opened the door, allowing Misha and me to climb in. We were followed by the three vampires shadowing us, and two more who seemed to appear from nowhere.
Edith sat beside me, eyeing up my blood-smeared neck, stomach, and leg. She licked her lips. “Can I have the leftovers?” she asked. “I never did get breakfast.”
“Take your fangs and shove them up your ass,” I snapped. “And if you so much as lick the air around me, I’ll throw you out the damn window.” In my weakened state, no way could I take on Edith. But she didn’t know that and waning strength or not, I wouldn’t put up with her asinine behavior.
“You’re so testy,” she claimed. “You know what your problem is?”
“Supernatural freaks of nature are trying to kill me, again?”
“No—well, I guess in all fairness that’s part of it—I think the big picture is you’re not having enough sex.”
“Edith. Please stop speaking.”
“I’m only trying to help….” Her voice faded at Misha’s subtle yet reprimanding glare. She flipped back her dark hair. “Forgive me, Celia. I spoke out of turn.”
“You always do, Edith,” I muttered. I leaned back into the seat and tried to settle. I was quiet the whole ride to Misha’s estate. He spared me from talking by making a few business calls to France and Russia, speaking perfectly in both languages. I concentrated on how easily his tongue slipped over the most complex-sounding phrases. It was better than worrying about what was to come. Liz entertained herself by filing her nails while Tim was on his phone setting up their “meals.”
“Make that two blondes for the master.” His attention cut my way. “And a brunette. The master is ravenous after making Aric Connor beg for his life.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. He smiled. Oh yeah, this was going to be fun.
When we reached the grand compound Misha led me to the guesthouse, while the others hurried inside in anticipation of their lunch. “You are welcome in the main house as always,” he told me.
I smiled at him. “I think I’m better off here.”
He considered his words. “I will have my family guard you at all times. As always, you have nothing to fear here.”
“With the exception of the last time when the Tribemaster attacked, ransacked the place, and made us all his bitches.”
He threw back his head, laughing. “Perhaps you are correct.” His humor faded into a small smile. “Although our lives have begun to take separate paths, I’m glad to have this time with you now.”
“Misha, you’re my friend. That won’t change so long as you respect my relationship with Aric.”
“I believe you ask too much of me,” he said quietly.
I struggled, trying to find the right words. Sometimes, I felt my attempt to be Misha’s friend was a tremendous disservice to him.
“You will find everything you need in your suite,” he continued. “Should you lack anything else or desire the superior lovemaking only a master vampire like myself can provide, please phone the house.”
And sometimes I wanted to smack him. “Er. Thanks.”
Misha was still laughing when he left.
I strolled around the 1,500-foot first floor trying to think of anything rather than the ass-kicking my life had taken. Bloodlust vampires and werewolf attacks had forced Misha to renovate and redecorate. The honey wood floors had been sanded and polished and the walls had been freshly painted gold with white trim to match the comfy white couch. Where a giant picture window used to overlook the garden, French doors now led out to a new brick patio. The accent wall opposite the flat-screen television was a deep rust color, while the throw pillows and blankets were in different shades of brown and gold. What gave me pause, h
owever, were the pictures of Misha everywhere.
They weren’t your average catalog style poses, oh no, not my favorite vampire. The best way to describe these pictures was that they mimicked something out of Rolling Stone. Case in point: the black-and-white 10 x 12 of him standing naked while he strummed the guitar resting over his unmentionables. The jerk didn’t even play guitar, although I doubted anyone else would care about his lack of musical talent.
I tipped the frame so it faced down, only to roll my eyes at a profile shot of him on the mantel. And was this one ever a doozie. Misha stood shirtless in black leather pants and black boots, holding a giant bow and arrow aimed at a naked blonde. She knelt on a bar stool with her hands cupping her breasts and an apple in her mouth. I wasn’t qualified to interpret art, but by the way her eyes were closed and her head was thrown back, I had the strange feeling the apple and the arrow depicted more than Misha’s ability to shoot arrows. That one got flipped, too.
The third was another black and white, with Misha portrayed as “The Thinker.” It appeared to have been taken outside in the garden. He sat on a large stone surrounded by a multitude of flowers. From the flowers emerged hands…lots and lots of hands from women tempting and begging him to choose them. If I knew Misha, they had all gotten their wish.
They reminded me in a way of Shah’s makeshift limbs poking from the ground. I laughed when the hands in the pictures applauded, mimicking Shah’s in that field. I glanced around, realizing I had company. “Where are you?”
When I returned my attention to the photo, Shah lay beside it. I lifted him. “You like to have your fun, don’t you, kid?”
I carried him with me when I entered the bedroom suite to shower. Not only did I find my cellphone, but some clothing in my size. Misha was an overly sexed and usually inappropriate being, but he did have a heart and a way of being kind that was unmatched.