Szereto, Mellanie - Two from the Triangle [Bewitching Desires 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

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Szereto, Mellanie - Two from the Triangle [Bewitching Desires 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 8

by Mellanie Szereto


  With his hand on the doorknob, Heath looked more ready to flee than hunt for Heléna. “Like having kids together. Each sister had two babies, one by each of her men.”

  An image of a pregnant Heléna singed Owen’s mind. He’d expected to hear that the both women had a pair of lovers. The word “babies” put an entirely new perspective on Heléna’s admission of wanting him and Heath. Too many thoughts buzzed around his head to think straight.

  Heath cleared his throat. “And there are more. Not just Rebeka and Lujza.”

  “All of them?” The tightness in Owen’s throat made his voice squeak.

  “No. I noticed six out of roughly fifteen adult women. Most of the rest were with one man, and two of the older ladies seemed to be alone.” Heath finally turned the knob to leave. “You wouldn’t believe the size of her family. There were close to sixty people at breakfast.”

  Regret pricked Owen as he walked with his friend along a wide hallway. He’d once had a big family, but his dad had forced him to choose between them and flying airplanes.

  If you were meant to fly, you’d have been born with wings, boy.

  Those were the last words his father had spoken to him. His mom had conveyed one final message the day Owen had left home. Tell him not to come back if he sets foot on that airfield. Owen took to the sky for his first lesson that day, and he hadn’t returned.

  He shook off the past. “Heléna’s family shouldn’t have a problem with her being with both of us then.”

  Shuffling down the stairs, neither spoke. As they descended the final flight, three young girls ran past the bottom of the steps toward a chorus of raised voices coming from the left. Owen gestured that direction, but before they reached the bottom step, a horde of men, women, and children crowded into the entryway at the base of the staircase.

  The white-haired version of Heléna spread out her arms and spoke. Her sharp tone brought instant silence to the group. “Daughters of age, Protectors, and those with the power of the Elements form a circle around the rest. We must work together.”

  Owen froze midstep at her command. Protectors? Power of the Elements? He searched for Heléna among the mix of kids and men in the center first. Not finding her, his eyes moved to the outer circle. A handful of elderly males in plain brown robes stood interspersed in the group of females ranging from perhaps twenty or so to seventy or eighty years old. Where was she? His gaze landed on the old woman.

  She raised her hand as if to tell him and Heath to wait and then looked to her followers. “The time has come, children. Szabina and Orsolya will be your guides, uniting the strengths of our clans. Ethan and Grant will watch over you as the darkness comes to challenge our connection with the Earth. Be strong. The Fates will lead you along the proper path.”

  If he didn’t know better, Owen would’ve thought he’d been transported to a world where good and evil were about to face off in a magical battle of spellcasting powers.

  “Come, gentlemen. We must go quickly.” She waved her toward the hall to the right. “Heléna needs you beside her.”

  Pushing aside the worry that Heléna was by herself in this barely controlled chaos, he strode down the last four steps to skirt the ring of people. Heath shadowed him as he followed their leader. Her steady gait didn’t slow until they entered a room with shelves lining the walls. Books filled every shelf. A library.

  She turned to face him. “Mr. Ulrich and I are already acquainted. I am Romána, matriarch of the Macskas and Heléna’s great grandmother.”

  Owen nodded in acknowledgement. “I’m Owen Vance. Where’s Heléna?”

  “We will go to her in a moment.” She placed her hands on his and Heath’s arms. “You must accept her for who she is and remind her often that she is deserving of you. She does not believe in her own abilities, but if you trust in her, her confidence will grow and she will become the woman she is destined to be. Her strength will come from you. Above all, you must give your hearts freely to her.”

  Romána’s advice struck Owen as promises and vows as much as anything else. Was she offering her blessing on their relationship? “I’ll do my best, ma’am.”

  Heath let out a noisy exhale, but the tension was still evident in his stiff posture. “I’ll try.”

  She smiled, seemingly satisfied with their answers. “She has chosen well. Now, do not pull away from my touch. We must travel to your mate.”

  Colored lights flickered much the same as they had on the beach right before he and Heath had found themselves in Heléna’s bedroom, and Owen fought the rising panic. Caught in the eye of a tornado, winds swirled around them without disturbing the papers and books on the library’s desk or a hair on his head. Heath’s face paled.

  The vortex stopped, revealing a dimly lit cavern. Romána no longer stood with them, her slight form ramrod straight as she faced them from across the high-ceilinged chamber. In the center of the room stood a cloaked figure with scraggly shoulder-length hair. Patchy black scars stretched from his sunken cheeks to his neck. Piercing black eyes met Owen’s, and he stumbled backward at the hatred and contempt emanating from them.

  A gasp drew both their attention to another presence in the far corner. Clad in a bathrobe, Heléna stepped out of the shadows. “Heath. Owen. What are you doing here? Go back to where you came from. I can’t protect you.”

  “You can, and you will, daughter.” Romána’s authoritative voice echoed off the walls.

  A grating cackle filled the empty space, and the cloaked man slowly let his eerie gaze shift around the room, seeming to settle on the old woman, then Heléna, and finally back on Owen and Heath. “The girl is weak. She will choose to protect her matriarch. Or try. Her powers are no match for mine.” Bolts of lightning shot down from the ceiling to the floor, setting off vibrations and a low rumbling like thunder. “She will fail as she always does.”

  Owen reached out to the wall to steady himself as the earth trembled beneath his feet. The smell of ozone burned his nose and throat. Recognition registered, and a mix of rage and fear flooded his veins. “You caused the storms that shorted out the plane’s engine and caused the gash on Heléna’s forehead.”

  Another cackling laugh issued from the gnarled old man. “And this time you will all die, except the girl. She’s easily influenced and will make an interesting plaything.”

  “You will not harm them, Kazmer.” Romána lifted her clenched fist in the air, chanting in a language Owen couldn’t understand. A bluish wisp wove its way from her hand to Heath and him, encircling them in a misty haze.

  As hard as he tried, Owen couldn’t force his feet to carry him to Heléna. The mist seemed to trap him. If the old woman had the power to freeze him, why didn’t she do the same to Kazmer? Why didn’t she send Heléna to safety? What was she waiting for?

  Shifting into a cloud of black smoke, the demon hissed at her and swept toward Heléna. He reformed into a mirror image of Heath in front of her. What was this creature that he could change his appearance in the blink of an eye? The real Heath growled, unable to move if Owen’s own seized muscles were any indication.

  The imposter ran his fingertips along her jaw, sending more fury and another dose of alarm for Heléna’s safety shooting through Owen. “You are no longer innocent. You allowed them to take your virginity for pleasure. Do you feel dirty and used? Come rule the Black Triad with me. I can make you strong and give you the powers you dream of having.” His shape morphed again, this time his Irish appearance far too familiar. “Which form do you prefer? Ah, but they have both rejected you, haven’t they? I can become whichever you want, whenever I want. You don’t need to choose them. Perhaps I’ll allow them to return to the island instead of wasting my powers on worthless humans.”

  Owen struggled to deny Kazmer’s accusation. Only a rough snarl came out in defense. I didn’t use you, Heléna. There was nothing dirty about what we did.

  “Listen to your heart, daughter. It knows the truth.” Romána’s white hair glowed silver, lighting
the chamber and revealing the shifter’s real shape. “Only true mates may enter the Macska home while the protection spell secures its boundaries. Do not forsake Owen and Heath because doubt lingers. They will prove themselves worthy and faithful if you allow them the opportunity.”

  Kazmer scoffed at the old woman’s words. “They have not gifted her with children. Nor have they taken the vows. The seventh joining will not come to pass in this cycle, and her failure alters the balance. The time has arrived for the Triad to prevail over its enemy.”

  Spinning to face Romána, he spread his arms wide, gray pulses radiating from his misshapen hands. The walls shook, and debris rained down from above.

  Heléna crouched into the corner, her obvious lack of confidence in herself and her lovers cutting into Owen’s soul. If he could speak, he’d expose his deepest emotions to her, admitting that he was falling in love with her. Seeing her so defeated had him fighting whatever kept him from moving, but frustration was his only reward. A chunk of rock missing his head by inches fueled his need to break free of the invisible bindings to no avail.

  “Don’t hurt them! I’ll go with you!” Her declaration ripped a hole in his gut. Didn’t she know Kazmer would kill them all no matter what she agreed to? The evil bastard was wrong. She was innocent.

  No, Heléna! Don’t believe what he says!

  Kazmer’s mouth curved upward into a disturbing grin. “Do you think I don’t know you’re lying? You can’t hide what’s in your mind from me.”

  Tree roots suddenly invaded the walls, creeping along every surface to grab and hold the crumbling ceiling. Romána remained stock-still, her stance unaffected by the danger around her. Had she stabilized the room with her powers? She had to have done it. Her powers are strong. Why doesn’t she end this?

  An outraged scowl distended the scorch marks on Kazmer’s cheeks, and his black irises bled into the white of his eyes, swallowing them in darkness. “I have waited many centuries to destroy those who refuse to bow to the Triad. Your tricks will not save you, matriarch.”

  He stretched his gnarled fingers toward Owen and Heath. A shower of sparks shot straight at them, but no amount of willpower helped Owen duck. The mist sizzled, seeming to absorb the fiery burst.

  Heléna straightened, taking a step away from the wall. “Stop! Please, I’ll go with you!”

  “No, daughter.” Romána’s calm demeanor irked Owen. Why didn’t she transport them out of this hellhole instead of facing off against the madman?

  Or better yet, blast the son of a bitch to kingdom come already!

  The old woman’s voice softened. “My destiny has been determined by the Fates, Heléna. You must follow your path, and I must follow mine.”

  “But the family needs you.” The implication of Heléna’s unspoken words hit Owen in the chest.

  I need you, Heléna. I swear if we survive this, not a day will go by that I don’t show you how much I need you.

  She dropped her chin to her chest. “And even if I chose Owen and Heath, I couldn’t protect them. They can go on with their lives without me, but how will our clan survive without you, Grandmother? I have to go so you can save everyone.”

  Kazmer gave a triumphant laugh. “She has chosen you over the men, Macksa witch. You and your clan shall die, and she will become one of my servants. The Order of the Elements shall perish with you, ending your line and restoring the Black Triad.”

  Chapter 10

  The weight of the world sat on Heléna’s shoulders. By choosing to protect Great Grandmother, she would sentence her family to death if they couldn’t defend against Kazmer. Heléna didn’t believe for a second that he wouldn’t try to destroy them in exchange for her going with him, but her absence wouldn’t weaken the Macska link. They could focus on his destruction instead of keeping her out of harm’s way.

  If she chose Owen and Heath, she had only to sacrifice her heart. What if her grandmother was mistaken about the men Heléna had accidentally sent to the future? Were they really her true mates? Yes, they’d come through the protection spell. Unfortunately, Kazmer had as well, and he wasn’t her mate.

  Why did her hormones have to interfere with her usual logic? She struggled with her warring thoughts. I can’t think! Nothing makes sense!

  Why had she followed the stranger at the bottom of the ladder? The black-haired woman’s voice had sounded like one of the whispers Heléna had heard on the day of the full moon. Her gentle prodding had easily overpowered Heléna’s common sense, and now she had to wonder whether Kazmer had disguised himself to set up the confrontation. The woman had disappeared as soon as they’d reached the chamber. Was she real?

  Kazmer couldn’t have pretended to be the woman, though. He’d likely been one of the voices, but his soul was too irredeemable to have guided her to the chamber rather than simply killing her.

  Confused emotions churned inside her, and she glanced at Romána.

  A hint of a smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “Believe, daughter. My time on Earth is at an end. Yours is only beginning. Your mates will give you strength.”

  The thought of Great Grandmother dying made Heléna’s chest tighten, and tears stung her eyes. Heath and Owen blurred as she tried to judge their feelings for her from their expressions. She’d never been good at reading people, though.

  Both men connected with her momentary gaze. The furrow in Heath’s forehead must’ve been there before the spell to keep them from interfering. Was he concerned or angry? On the island, he’d spent as much time being mad at her as being nice. His mood should’ve been easy to decipher, but it wasn’t. He tended to hide behind a stoic façade. What did his stormy gray eyes signal?

  Do you care for me, Heath?

  She turned her attention to Owen. His intense stare seemed to convey terror, but at what? Fear of dying at the hands of an evil shifter? Fear for her wellbeing?

  Tell me, Owen. Please.

  Did it even matter? The state of her heart when all was said and done meant nothing compared to the execution of her entire family. Grandmother was the wisest person Heléna had ever known. Trusting in her guidance offered the only real choice.

  “I haven’t chosen yet.” Heléna stood up, imitating Romána’s proud bearing. Height didn’t determine a person’s ability to do the right thing.

  Kazmer turned his head to glare at her.

  A subtle nod from Great Grandmother assured her she’d made the correct choice. “I choose...” She let her gaze slip from Owen and Heath to Romána. A pulse of energy entered Heléna’s hands, tingling up her arms—the transfer of power over the spell protecting the pilots. “I choose...the men.”

  Sneering, Kazmer shook his head. “Your choice does not matter. You all will—”

  A ghostly red hand snatched his cloak, dragging him to the opposite wall before he could react. He whipped his scarred face around to confront the source of his irritation.

  “Take me, Goddess! My time has come!” Romána’s joyous tone rang in Heléna’s ears as she ran to release Heath and Owen. “Do not mourn for me, my children. My destiny in life has been fulfilled. Praise the Goddess and the Fates for their wisdom.”

  Grasping a hand of each man, Heléna glanced back to see crimson hands embrace the ancient shifter. A deafening howl issued from Kazmer as he and Great Grandmother exploded in a blast of sparks and flame.

  How had she known her time had come? Had a lifetime of gaining wisdom given her the gift of sight?

  She waited for me to choose. Why did I have to make the choice?

  Grief flooded Heléna, but she focused on getting out before the cavern collapsed.

  “To the inner circle go,

  Where my sisters’ love does flow.

  Keep us safe. Bring harm to none.

  Blessed be. Thy will be done.”

  She held tight to Heath’s and Owen’s hands and tensed when the far wall disintegrated from the explosion. Burning embers scattered, sending the glowing ashes hurtling toward them as the cavern fa
ded to darkness.

  A moment later, chanting filled her mind, and she blinked at the sudden brilliance shining in her eyes. Arms gathered her close, cradling her on both sides. Warm lips pressed kisses to her ear and neck.

  “You’re okay.” Heath’s gentle tone became a whisper. “I couldn’t protect you. I tried, honey. God, how I tried.”

  Owen smoothed his palm along her jaw. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

  The horror of what she’d witnessed slammed into her, and she nearly doubled over as wracking sobs assaulted her. Kazmer had been destroyed, but so had the Macska matriarch. The one person who had kept the family bonded together for so many years. Gone. She’d given her life to end the centuries-old battle with the Black Triad.

  “Great Grandmother...” Heléna tried to share her sorrow with the women forming the ring, but the flood of tears made talking impossible.

  “They know, Heléna.” Owen stroked her hair, and she leaned against his chest to keep from falling. “They’re mourning too. It’ll be okay.”

  Okay? How could anything be okay ever again? Great Grandmother had sacrificed her life to save Heléna, Owen, and Heath—because the newest full-fledged witch hadn’t possessed the abilities to aid in defeating Kazmer. Guilt and shame would linger long past the ceremony to usher Romána’s soul into the afterlife.

  “Don’t.” Heath lifted Heléna’s chin to wipe away the tears. “You’re blaming yourself. I know you are. She was at peace with what she did for us, and that lunatic was hers to destroy.”

  Owen looked down at her with a slight smile. “She did a damn good job of it too. Maybe in a few days you’ll be ready to tell us more about those powers she mentioned.”

  Powers? I have no powers compared to everyone else. Not ready to consider revealing her ineptitude, Heléna glanced away. All she wanted right now was quiet, solitude, and sleep.

  “Mr. Ulrich, would you mind carrying my sister up to her rooms? She needs to rest.” Rebeka’s motherly tone didn’t irritate Heléna as much as usual.

 

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