Elemental Dreams
The Eldritch Files, Book Nine
Phaedra Weldon
Caldwell Press
It’s a cliche to say all good things must come to an end, but there is a bit of truth to that. In this case, all good stories must as well.
And it wouldn’t be a good story with a HEA.
Didn’t think that would happen did yah?
Read on, those of you who have stuck by Crwys and Sam.
Read on…
Summary
Lady Darksome!
Thought I was gone, didn’t you? So did I. But apparently slipping into that good night wasn’t my plan.
I just wish I’d have left myself a note. Or a Facebook message. Hell, even a Snapchat…chat. That way I could have prepared everyone, including me, for what was to come.
And I could have saved my love from so much heartbreak.
Prologue
On clear nights like this one, Kyle Kendrick could hear the soft jazz riding on the breeze from Bourbon Street. The Garden District was far enough away, and yet close enough to smell the water, and the sweet and spicy creole seasoning. He stood in the center of his and Jack's garden, a glass of wine in his left hand, and closed his eyes, listening, letting the magic of New Orleans brush against his skin like the soft kiss of his lover late at night.
The sun was just setting, bathing the sky in soft pinks and deep blues. There was a chill in the air, remnants of winter as she made her exit, but still lingering for nostalgia.
A hand gently touched his right shoulder. He reached up and caressed Jack's soft fingers and sighed.
"You've been quiet this week."
Kyle continued looking up at the sky, surrounded by freshly planted flowers and herbs. It was the garden of his dreams, complete with a circular stone center and make-shift altar. It was everything he'd ever wanted in a home, in a garden, in his life.
And yet…it didn't feel like it was his.
"Babe?"
He finally looked down and turned to search the soft blue eyes of his love, Jack Roberts, and gave him a lopsided smile. "I—" But the words didn't come.
"I know it's her birthday, Kyle."
Kyle shrugged. "It's not even that. I mean, not her birth birthday, but her initiation. When she and I decided to get serious about magic and making things right when we could." He made a soft snort. "I even found one of her guns this morning. I forgot I had it."
"Then that's a good thing, right? The other one is still in the apartment?"
"Yeah," Kyle slowly nodded. He stepped away from Jack, away from the comforting hand and stood in the center of the stone circle, remembering the night he and Ivan and everyone had witnessed Lethe's alleged death, and Elizabeth Hawthorne's true one in this garden.
"Something else is bothering you," Jack said. He didn't join Kyle, but kept his distance. "The shop's actually making money, right? I help you, Ivan and Dharma are helping out when they're not working for Arden. Tas and Levi are now partners, Bastien and Tas are helping the Aces establish a second Pack with Ben," He paused and Kyle did look at him as Jack held out his arms. "And most importantly, Lizzie's happy, right? And Arden's turning out to be a great mom."
That image made Kyle laugh. Soft. Subdued. But it was a funny thing, visiting his Aunt out at Gypsy Gardens as she and her Coven pampered and spoiled Sam and Crwys's daughter.
And what an event that birth had been. Kyle had never seen a dragon born. In fact, no one had, except for Tas, who had retained her true form in order to keep the egg warm and loved. They'd gathered in a cave in North Louisiana, in a place even Kyle didn't know had caves. All of them had witnessed the cracks in the egg, and helped in the fight as this tiny dragon had pecked her way out of that hard shell, crying out with blind eyes and wet, red scales.
Kyle had been both overjoyed and repulsed—yeah he'd never thought human babies were that cute to begin with, but to see a scaly overgrown lizard to come out had shocked him.
And then, before their eyes, she'd become a small, pink human baby, with bright red hair. And a lot of it.
Arden had scooped her up first and bathed her in a kiddie tub her Coven had prepared. All of her chosen Hand Maidens were there, marveling in the birth and pledging to protect the child no matter what. Tas had become her human self after months of being a dragon and threw her arms around Bastien.
Everyone was there, except the two people who should have been there. Elizabeth's mother and father.
"Kyle?" Jack had come close and moved a finger under his chin to lift his head up. Their eyes locked. "Talk to me?"
Kyle opened his mouth, then closed it, then stepped back and looked directly into Jack's eyes. "Why?"
Jack's brows furrowed and he gave a half shake of his head. "I'm not sure—"
"Why?" Kyle said a little bit louder. "Why did any of this happen? Or am I the only one that thinks that week was the stupidest, shortest, most ridiculous series of events ever conceived in…" he stopped when he popped the glass in his hand. Wine and blood spilled on the stone and he pulled back from Jack when his lover tried to help him.
"You cut yourself."
"I'll handle it," Kyle said. He held his bleeding hand out, away from Jack's hands. "There was no reason for her to get pregnant. No reason for her to not tell anyone. There is no real reason she should be dead!" He opened his hand and let the rest of the glass fall to the stone. "And where the hell is Crwys? What kind of man curls up and just abandons his child? You know I have to agree with Bastien on this, and I don't agree with him too often. But this is wrong. All of this is wrong."
Jack put his hands on his head. Kyle knew his boyfriend was trying to keep his cool, but it was hard for a werewolf to engineer calm when they were worried. And it was obvious, Jack was worried. "Kyle—just let me look at your hand. Please."
Kyle lowered his hand and put it behind his back. "My hand is fine, Jack. My hand will be as good as new in about two minutes. Think about it. All the magical things we can do, what we've done, what we've accomplished, and somehow…some mystery son of some Mambo just takes Sam and kills her?"
"It wasn't that simple, Kyle—"
"Yes it was." Kyle pointed at Jack. "You asked me what was wrong. You asked me to talk to you. Well I am talking to you, and I'm telling you, if you'll listen because hell if anyone else will," and he brought his left hand back and opened it in front of Jack. There was blood, but no cut, no glass, just smooth skin as Kyle brushed his other hand over it. "Solomon taught me a lot of things before he went off the deep end, before he saw something he shouldn't. Before…" and there he had to stop because he really wasn't sure what had become of his old teacher.
Jack didn't say anything as the sky became dark and the stars came out. Then, "What did he teach you?"
"He taught me to notice things, Jack. To see patterns. To watch people's actions, their body language. He taught me to scry, to really see the messages in the Tarot, and to understand their meanings. And he taught me to look…" Kyle lowered both his hands. "To look where I shouldn't."
Jack took a step back as he straightened. "What does that mean?" He waited. "Kyle, you're scaring me."
"It means I looked where I shouldn't. And I know things aren't as they seem. They aren't as they were meant to be." Kyle struggled to get the words out, but as Solomon had taught him, truth when seen though the eye of magic, was often reluctant to come forth. "Sam and Crwys were never supposed to marry, Jack. She should have died in that tree. And there was never a child. Never." He took a step toward Jack and searched his lovers' face. "You hav
e to believe me when I tell you I saw the future, Jack. Not long after I learned certain things in Southern Conjure, I used it to really see as far as I could.”
Jack was slowly shaking his head. "What…why? What are you talking about? Sam asked you to tell her future?"
"Sam wanted to know how long she'd have with Crwys, before she died and he would continue living. She wanted to make sure he wasn't wasting his life on her. She wanted me to be as honest as I could."
"But that's not what happened. I mean, what you saw."
"No," Kyle shook his head as his brows arched into his forehead.
Jack finally lowered his shoulders and ran his fingers through his hair, a sign he was thinking. "This is what's been eating at you, isn't it? You knew this wasn't the future you saw."
Kyle turned away and faced the North where the altar sat and then put his hands, palms down on the cool surface of the stone. "Someone, between then, and the moment she lost her magic, changed things. They…rewrote the events."
"Not sure I'm following you," Jack said. "I mean, no human can do that. Not the Faeries, or the Wolves, and not the Witches."
"No they can't." Kyle straightened. "Only one being can rewrite time, Jack." He twisted at his waist and looked back at Jack. "Only the God Mother."
ONE
Tasoula Damali checked the roast, potatoes and carrots she'd placed in the crockpot that morning before she left for work. The whole cabin smelled like onions and spices and rich, cooked meat. The roast came apart with her fork and she made a little smirk as she thought about the rich chocolate pie and whipped cream she'd bought on the way home. She wanted beignets but those would have to wait till Saturday morning, after she and Bastien did their weekend run and then watched the sun come up at Cafe Du Monde.
It was Friday night, the sun was down, and her wolf had come home smelling like the outside. He was showered now, and dressed in cargo shorts and a smile as he wrapped his arms around her.
She leaned back into him and breathed in deep. Soap and musky wolf. She'd never been so happy.
If only they'd been more successful in finding Crwys. Bastien had made it his life's work, it seemed, to find Crwys and force him to raise his child. He didn't openly object to Arden Vervain raising the child in secrecy at Gypsy Gardens. After all, it was the most protected place in the parish.
But he believed in family. And pups needed their parents and a pack. Elizabeth, Lizzie to everyone, had her Pack. But she needed her daddy. And it was Bastien's duty to drag Crwys's ass back home.
His words.
The Pack rotated their time with Bastien, and Ben took over either job. When Bastien was home, like this weekend, Ben was out picking up the trail where Bastien left off. And come Monday morning, they would alternate positions again.
Tas understood her boyfriend's need for parent justice…but this was getting old. If her brother wanted to crawl in a hole and cover himself up over and not be a man—er, Dragon—then so be it. They could raise the little girl themselves.
Screw him.
She just wished everyone else felt the same way. But then, she and Crwys, and the rest of her Dragon family, had had a very different childhood. They were accustomed to trauma and drastic changes and always grasped at peace and happiness when they could find it.
She nudged Bastien away and asked him to set the table. Once the dishes were down as well as the napkins and utensils, and the bread was out of the oven and expertly buttered by Bastien, who seemed to have an uncanny knack for baking, the two sat down with red wine, good food, and just each other.
And that chocolate pie in the fridge.
Everything could have been perfect, if only Bastien could just leave Lizzie's situation alone.
After finishing off his second bowl of food, he sat back and moved his fork over his plate. He hadn't said a word, which wasn’t hard to do with one's mouth full, Tas understood that. But he hadn't even answered her small talk. So she decided to let him lead the conversation. If there was one thing she'd learned since their Linking as Alpha and Mate, it was her now very strong ability to sense his moods.
And he was in a strange one.
Neither angry or mad, it was something in between.
He refilled his glass, offered her more and she shook her head. "So," he said as he sipped his wine instead of guzzled it.
"So…" She leaned in over her plate. "If you have something you want to ask me, do it, Bastien. I told you, I have no secrets from you."
"Does Crwys?"
Her brows arched high on her forehead. "I don't think he does. Why?"
"I just wondered…" and he shrugged his shoulders.
It didn't take a Link to reveal to Tas what her lover was thinking. And she didn't like it. She let her fork drop with a clink and pushed her chair back.
Bastian watched her with wide eyes. "Quoi?"
"Crwys does not have anyone else but Samantha. Dragons mate for life—and that means either their life, or the life of their mate's. He was bonded to her, heart and soul, and losing her was a traumatic experience. He didn't even know she was pregnant either. Not until it was too late."
"Chérie, don't be angry." He held out his hands. "My kin also share this mating bond," he gave her a half smile. "But as a man, I had to ask. Oui?"
"I hope none of the Pack think this about Crwys."
"The Pack doesn't understand his absence any more than I." Bastien crossed his arms over his chest. "Maybe it was his upbringing."
To that Tas had no response. No retort. She was sure a lot of Crwys's need to flee came from his human life, his betrayal, his death and then rebirth, and again, another betrayal by Lethe. It seemed heartbreak was all he knew.
"I can…see some of what you are thinking," Bastien said in a soft voice. "Was that…his life?"
She crossed her own arms and looked away. She hadn't meant to broadcast her thoughts in their Link. "Yes."
"I don't know much about Dragons, chérie. Not even about you."
Tas unfolded her arms and refilled her wine. "I wasn't always a dragon. Neither was Crwys. Or Lethe, Dáinn or Thea."
"Dáinn and Thea?"
"My other brother and sister." She took a good, long swig of wine and swallowed. "We were like Phoenixes, Bastien. We rose from the ashes once our mortal lives ended."
Bastien stood and grabbed his glass and the bottle and set them on the coffee table by the fireplace. When he walked to Tas, he offered her his hand and guided her to sit with him on the bearskin rug before the flickering warmth. There he waited in silence, watching her, expecting.
So, maybe it was time to share a little more with her lover? These were first steps for her. Steps not taken for a millennia.
"Crwys was born Apollo, the son of a King." She licked her lips. "He was my brother."
"Your real brother?"
"Yes. My change came before Apollo's. My uncle, a cold man named Orion, tried to rape me one night during a Festival. He chased me into the night when I refused. My family was deep in wine and rivalry and didn't know what was happening. I killed Orion with my bow—I'd been a skilled weapons maker back then. And the bow was my choice. When the morning came and Orion's death was revealed, I went to my father and told him in private what his brother had tried. Our father wanted to spare his brother's name so Orion's death was reported as an accident. A tragedy. And his attempted rape of me was never spoken of."
"Merde."
Tas gave a soft chuckle. "Yes. That was the word for it. So I kept the secret in silence. But truth always has a way of rearing its head. Followers of Orion learned it was I who killed him, and they learned the reason why. The only person I ever told was my father, so I always…" she looked at the fire. "Wondered."
"You believe he would betray you?"
"He betrayed anyone who got in his way, Bastien. And I often questioned his actions and had garnered my own small following back then. Orion's neophytes kidnapped me, raped me, and killed me. My body lay in the desert for a long time and my spirit refused to let go. Refused to abandon what had been my earthly remains." She looked at him. "The God Mother came to me and offered me a choice, of death or rebirth. I chose rebirth."
"She made you into a Dragon?"
"Yes. But I didn't know what I was for a while. I'm afraid the God Mother is good at birthing life, but not so good at raising it. She's so busy, you know." Tas sighed. "I ventured out and found the men who raped and killed me and took my revenge. And when I was done…the carnage was so massive that I hid myself again. Those men had been defenseless against me. And though they had defiled me, and killed me, it wasn't my place to deal out justice like that.
"So I went back to making weapons. And I hid myself and my nature away, using humans who were trustworthy to makes sales and deliver weapons." Tas looked at her hands. "It was one of those weapons that killed my brother, though at the time, I didn't know that's what would happen."
Bastian put a hand on hers. "The Bow of Artemis…the thing Brendi used against Crwys."
"Yes." She nodded quickly and wove her fingers with his. "Ra managed to kill him in a contest because of the bow and arrow I made. And again, the God Mother favored our family and Apollo was remade as Azazel."
"Did you not take a new name?"
"I did. But it is long forgotten. Not important." She drank more wine. "Lethe had already been turned by then. She'd been a Priestess and died when the temple was attacked and all the women killed."
"Dáinn?"
She laughed. "His story is similar, but different. No relation. Not even the same continent. Dáinn was cursed by a Faerie Bane because he was a rogue fisherman. He lived his life like a leaf on the wind, but never hurt anyone. Not physically. But he'd broken the wrong heart and spent his life as that beast, tending to the tree Yggdrasil."
Elemental Dreams: An Urban Fantasy Series (The Eldritch Files Book 9) Page 1