by F. G. Adams
“Until he is one,” Jazmine confirms.
“Part of a whole,” Jada says.
“I have no reason to believe he is the one. I do not feel him in Brenton. Therefore, I’m skeptical he is the one you speak of.” Marcus pauses, holding his palm in the air to silence them. “But if he is, then you will have my support.”
“Please attempt to discern what has been foretold without the malice you shelter for the hunter. We understand your concern, but he is the one. Remember, he is a victim to Baako’s crimes as much as you are,” Jazmine reminds him.
“I will make an effort for you.” Marcus smiles.
“That is all we can ask of you,” Jada replies.
“The alignment in the atmosphere happens only once every four hundred and ten earth years where the site is located along the Nile,” Jazmine provides details for the upcoming mission.
“And will only last a maximum of a few minutes at the location,” Jada acknowledges the risks.
“Plan to move in quickly, find the relic, and return before the doorway seals again. We cannot wait another four hundred plus years,” Marcus worries about the limited time.
“We understand. Everything depends on Brenton’s cooperation.” Jazmine nods.
“Brenton has left the realm.” Jada stares into the distance.
“Yes. He’s opened the doorway to New York,” Jazmine continues.
“Go to him. Find a way to convince him. You—” Marcus begins but is interrupted.
“Once the flood gates open, his decision will be instinctive, immediate,” Jada states with sincerity.
“You are right, as always. Good journey, sisters.”
With a mere notion, light twinkles as a doorway appears to Brenton’s location. We move forward, collectively, into the abridged time in space. Closer to the one we desperately miss.
Back in New York City, Brenton relaxes in his apartment. Sprawled out in his leather recliner, he flips the channels with the remote, finding a football game in progress.
“This is what I needed to clear my head,” he mumbles then sips the cold brew of his choice.
“You have left the safety of the sacred pyramid. Why?” Jada softly observes.
Brenton chokes on the half-drunk beer, spitting the contents all over himself, jumping from the comfortable position and gasping for air.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he growls.
“We came to ensure your safety.” Jazmine walks further into the small space.
“I left so I could find some peace and quiet. But here you are. In my living room, staring at me like I’ve grown three heads and sprouted wings.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible, Brenton,” Jazmine objects playfully.
“It’s a figment of my imagination. Nothing else.”
“You have a very vivid one indeed,” Jada concedes.
“What do you want? I just hoped I could buy some time alone to digest what happened back there when I touched you both at the same time. Care to explain?”
“Perhaps you won’t mind if we sit down?” Jazmine motions toward the leather couch.
“May we?” Jada asks before sitting down.
“By all means. Have a seat. I didn’t come here to be by myself or anything,” he mutters quietly under his breath.
“I’m sorry you’re frustrated, Brenton. We only wish you happiness. I’m sure it’s disconcerting. What occurred in the chambers earlier must be perplexing and unsettling?” Jada’s calm voice relaxes him. “Please come. Sit down.”
Brenton looks trapped, a frightened deer caught in an automobile’s headlights. He waffles and deliberates before a few long, purposeful strides bring him closer to us. Without delay, he sits between us and his hands latch onto his thighs with a death grip.
“If you would allow us to explain, your view on things may be different going forward,” Jazmine vows, raising a hand to him, but at one look from him, she returns it to her lap.
“Kind of like coming face-to-face with vampires, shifters, and necromancers, right? Never saw that coming until one tried to kill me,” he lightly teases, rubbing his taut, muscular, jean-clad thighs underneath the pants.
“There is more to our existence than the races we have sworn to protect. There is history of love so pure even the God Baako was bitter and begrudged the happiness befallen to the couple. An all-encompassing love you would die battling to save, if only in remnants.”
“Baako, you don’t say? Was it Zenon and Augusta, his own parents? What a sick motherfucker. Uh, ‘scuse the language, ladies. But he’s evil through and through. I can feel it in my gut.” His eyes fill with simmering rage.
“You are wise to acknowledge Baako’s immoral and malevolent force. He allowed his hatred to cloud his judgement.” Jazmine continues the tale, “And before he could stop the darkness from consuming him, it was too late. The brother we loved and adored had changed from kin to foe.”
“The fighting amongst the Gods trickled down onto the races they had sworn to protect. Harmony was lost, and the balance preserved for thousands of years was destroyed in the blink of an eye. Compassion and zest for life no longer appealed to others or humans. The humans desire to live forever, misguided their minds. We watched as Baako’s cults spread hate and dissent. Little by little, he grew more powerful. His black heart thrived on the pain and suffering, growing stronger. He overpowered the lightness until only darkness reigned in the earth realm. Very few understood what they were up against.”
“We had long foreseen the future and what would take place. As much as we longed to interfere and stop the inevitable, we couldn’t. Every attempt to change the future, we grasped, until the forces of good had to find a way to maintain their existence. A plan gave birth to ensure any loop holes Baako found in binding the others.”
“Why did Baako change? Wasn’t he happy before?”
“He was, but too much power corrupts, and once he had a taste of the vast darkness, there was no turning back for him. We begged and pleaded. He sacrificed his beloved mate, the other side of his soul—the good side—to become who he is.”
“You can’t be serious! How? Why would he give that up?”
“The only way to become as powerful as Zenon was to slaughter the one individual he possessed love beyond all others for. Within that dark art, he crafted bindings that permitted him to split other mates apart. It weakened the Enchanted Immortals. For once a mate is bound, two souls become one. Splintering them slowly destroyed them. Leaving one to always remember and suffer, while wiping the memory from the past from the other,” Jada comments, a strange note of sadness in her voice.
“When we realized the lengths he would go to achieve his supremacy, we fought back with everything possible, but we were too late. He severed the ties with his mate in order for him not to die, trapping a powerful median within an obsidian gemstone and ensuring his survival. For when you are bound to a mate, your life forces are one. One cannot survive without the other.” Jazmine’s voice tightens.
“Damn, he’s a cold son of a bitch. He killed his sacred mate? Man, oh, man. Didn’t think that was possible. How did she not know?”
“She knew but loved him more than she loved herself. She willingly sacrificed all for that love. We were left with little choice. The only repercussion left to us was to entomb him. We weren’t aware beforehand he had created the ability to soul jump by calling on the powerful Abgrund Stone. Baako practiced the black art of body snatching until he perfected it. Many others and humans as well were massacred by his determination to win,” Jada answers.
“Win at all costs,” Brenton mumbles.
Abruptly, we stand, clasping the other’s hand and extending the open ones in Brenton’s direction.
“Hurry. You are in danger here,” Jazmine informs Brenton.
“We need to return to the others. Baako is aware of your location.” Jada looks at him and waves her hand, beckoning him.
“Why would he care? I’m not—”
&
nbsp; “Brenton, please. We don’t have the luxury of explaining,” Jazmine interrupts.
“He is almost upon us. You need to trust us. Before it is too late,” Jada pleads, fading in and out.
“I…I…you’re blinking colors,” Brenton says, puzzled at the oddity.
“Take our hands, Brenton. Now is not the time to ask questions or doubt,” Jazmine instructs.
He reluctantly accepts with a nod and stands, intertwining his hands with our glowing. His grip is firm and the calmness is forced. Before he can question himself, we summon our power. A blinding light appears as we advance effortlessly to safety.
4
The future lies before you like a field of fallen snow. Be careful how you treat it, for every step will show. ~ Brenton Fox
The tight grip I had on the twin Goddesses is gone. My hands come up empty. A sense of loneliness materializes in the pit of my stomach. A feeling of something else rouses within me. A clawing on my insides begins to churn, setting off a flair of uneasiness.
Carefully squinting, I pry my eyes open one at a time. My earlier reaction to the blinding light which ensued after I touched the women cascaded blind spots behind my lids. Portal travel and me just don’t mix.
“You are safe, my love,” she whispers articulately in my ear.
“What? Who’s there?” The voice of my dreams stirs a desire.
I gaze around the wide-open space and rub my fists against my eyes, taking in the celestial beauty of the scenery. Light, fluffy white clouds hang low, and I glimpse down to notice my booted feet are slightly covered by a billowy blanket. It’s like I’m walking on clouds as they stretch out beyond and forever as far as I can see.
Two tall pillars stretch upward, showing no beginning and no ending. They stand proudly in front of me like guards at a gate. Intricately-woven ivy greens flowing copiously around the columns appear to be holding them up and in place. It adds to the unbelievably breathtaking scene. In the middle of the ethereal space is nothing short of an altar of sorts, which sparks a distinct comparison to a soft, fluffy bed.
“Here we go again. I must be dreaming,” I swiftly assess.
“Search your heart, your mind, your soul, and you will find the answers you seek.” Her voice sensually converges with my entire flesh, like millions of little fingers caressing me. I shake my head to clear the lustful cobwebs. I need answers, and I want them now.
“Enough with the cryptic bullshit, pardon my language, your loveliness, but I don’t understand what you mean. Where am I? Where are you?” I demand in need of a semblance of control.
A delicate hand touches my shoulder blade from behind, startling me for a split second. I didn’t hear anyone approach. Her touch sends a sense of peace washing through my entire body. My shoulders relax.
The other hand moves to my right hip—in the exact spot of the birthmark I bear. The same mark I covered up with a badge tattoo before I entered the FBI academy in Quantico. The sensation the caress kindles stirs a deep longing inside me. Not just the normal physical need drawing me closer to climax, but an unearthly desire for this faceless person whose hands are stroking my middle region.
“Such a shame you covered this beautiful mark, my love.”
“The paw? Or that’s what my dad used to call it. He said it was a mark his great grandfather bore. Part of our lineage. It was just a hideous red nuisance for me.”
“It was and is your birthright, my everything. It defines who you are and who you will be. One you feel inside of you now, yes?”
A rumbling buried deep in my chest confirms what the lovely voice relays. The confusion of her words shoots a sharp pain into my brain as a vivid vision emerges.
“How much do you love me?” she playfully asks, running her hands up the length of my mid-thighs to firmly cup my standing erection. Jadzia's sensual kisses have my heart racing as longing and desire rush lower to my pulsating, hard staff.
“With everything I am, my every breath, my entire existence, my dearest one,” I manage to reply as she strokes me from root to tip, soft and hard. Immense pleasure engulfs me. My thighs strain from the need to move, but I won’t to make sure she doesn’t stop the pleasurable torture. The little temptress calls to the wildness inside.
“Only that much?” she inquires in a raspy tone.
Pouty reds lips on an angel face appear above me as her face comes into view when she crawls up the length of my sensitive flesh. An angelic beauty beyond anything I’ve ever witnessed. Her golden eyes sparkle with delight and her long, sun-kissed hair falls around us as she moves slowly to capture my mouth with hers. She wields a powerful leash over me. I belong to her: mind, body, and soul.
I lightly bite down on a full, plump lip, eliciting a low growl in my chest.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Bad kitty wants to play rough?” She giggles.
Flipping her over quickly, I pin the angel beneath me, seated between her luscious thighs, and glance up, immersed in the wetness from her needy pussy drenching me. I need a moment to slow down and savor the trapped beauty. We’re surrounded by a meadow of lilies and tulips in every spectrum of color, and the sweet fragrance of her longing fluttered into my nostrils. Retracting my hips, I position the tip of my dick at her entrance and thrust deeply inside.
I double over from the head-splitting pain the vision brings. My breath comes in hot, short puffs as if I have been running for miles. Something in the recess of my mind causes me to remember the dip in the valley of her cleavage, specifically her left side.
“What the fuck was that?” I ask, astonished from the ache in the pit of my gut.
“A time when you knew me very well, my beloved. More are to come as your beast comes to life,” she consoles me.
“What beast? How could I know you? I’m only thirty-five years old, and you’re like, what? I’m clueless at guessing.” I shrug, at a loss at the frustration building in me. I temple my hands for patience and add. “Forgive me, Your Royal Highness, but I don’t know you. That wasn’t me.”
“Are you sure?” She kisses my neck at the base, and my head falls to the side guided by the sensual act. My sex drive wakes up at the small gesture as all blood rushes south.
I’m lost in the passion the single action orchestrates as my member tightens in my jeans. I relinquish control at the feel of her plush breasts pressed against the rippling muscles in my back as she melds to me perfectly. I want to take her. Devour every inch of her. She has me barely clinging to my trained and well-disciplined mind.
“You feel it, don’t you? Physically. The pull between us is real and true. Soon, you will be whole again and we will be together once more, forever. Come, my reluctant warrior.”
Beauty beyond my wildest imagination doesn’t begin to describe the divine creature standing before me. Long strands of silky, moonlight-pale intermixed with wine-red hair cascades down her back to the indent of her tiny waist. Sheer material covers flawless, milky skin. Strategically-placed jewels cover her perky, round boobs, and a chain forms a thong wrapping around her. She pulls me toward a round disc full of a liquid substance, floating in the air. My mind once again fills with unanswered questions. Obviously, she is unable to or won’t share with me.
She smiles invitingly and instructs, “First, you must drink, then you will see.”
The beautiful woman dips an ornate chalice into the water and hands it to me.
“Drink and learn for yourself, my love,” she tells me and offers the glass.
Taking the goblet from her delicate hand, I look into her golden eyes. Honesty and desire are pouring from the otherworldly being. Desire that matches my own. Tit for tat.
I pull the cup to my mouth and swallow the cool substance, wetting my thirsty, parched whistle.
“Now, look and learn the truth.” She points to the dish.
I lean over and gaze into the clear pool of floating liquid, and instantly pull back from the reflection I see.
“That is not me! What kind of trick is this?” I protest, a hint o
f confusion and hurt in my tone. I gave my trust to her.
Stepping away, I’m stopped by a strong force tugging me back to the saucer. I struggle with all my might, but I’m not released from the constraint of the pull, forced to look again as the images replay.
“The importance is too great. Look again, Brenton. Please. You must. For me.” The pleading in her heavenly voice justifies my compliance, and I give in to her emotional plea and stop my efforts to move away.
Leaning over the water, I watch the vision play out again. The woman in the reflection looks just like the angelic woman standing here with me now. The man… It can’t be. I have to look twice to realize the man with her looks just like me. How can this be possible? I have no recollection of this happening.
The vision continues. This time, at the end, the man flashes away. In his place stands a proud, strong, very large beast.
“Oh, my God!” I stumble backwards from the significant importance of the daydream.
Before I can ask questions, another bright flash of light encompasses me. I open my eyes again, and I’m standing in the corridor of the compound, holding on to Jazmine and Jada’s hands. Their knowing eyes stare silently back at me.
What in the fuck is going on here?
5
“Everything is Energy. Your thoughts begin it. Your emotions amplify it. And your action increases its momentum. When the universe shakes you, it’s time to wake up.”
~ Brenton Fox
Briefly shaken from the velocity of time travel, portal hopping, transporting, or whatever the hell you want to call it, my stomach is turned upside down. I’m off balance for a second before I secure my bearings and strengthen my stance.
The hands clasping hold of mine draw me back to the here and now. We’re back in the safety of the sacred temple pyramid.
I glance to my right, where Jada’s gaze locks onto mine. Momentarily, I’m lost within her green eyes as beautiful as the emerald ocean. I shake my head when a squeeze from the other hand captures my attention, and I turn to the left to gawk at the beautiful green orbs of her sister twin, Jazmine. Her eyes are a shade darker, more like the forest-green trees. A growl of frustration fights to escape. The need to feel and touch them overwhelms me almost to a breaking point.