by Kristie Cook
“Whoa,” Asia said as she hovered over my shoulder.
“Bex is Rebethannah,” I said.
“Are you sure?” Skepticism laced Asia’s tone, as usual, but I felt confident this time.
“She has to be,” I said. “Everything points to her. Including this.” I jabbed my finger at Nathayden’s messages.
“Help her, Jacquelena!” he wrote as we spoke. “SAVE HER! SAVE US!”
He filled the page with the words, so I turned to the next one. We watched and waited for more, our collective breaths held. A minute passed, then two, then several more. The clean page remained blank.
I stood up, making Asia jump back before I knocked her over. I opened the camper door to lock it and shut it again.
“We have to help Bex,” I said as I picked up my purse and the Book. “And obviously, we’ll be helping Rebethannah, too.”
“And what?” Brock asked. “Do you think Bex is just going to say, ‘Oh, yeah, you’re right, I’ll go to another world to be with my Twin Flame, this world sucks anyway’?”
“Considering what she’s been through lately, she might,” I muttered as I stood by the car door, waiting on all of them. “I don’t know, Brock. We’ll deal with that then, but right now, Bex could be in trouble. Forget about her being Rebethannah if you need to. A human soul needs our help, and she could be taken by the Lakari at any time. Let’s GO!”
Jeric clapped his hand on Brock’s shoulder. “Come on, dude, she’s right. Bex’s life could be in danger.”
Brock and Asia exchanged a glance, but headed for the car. Jeric sat up front, and Asia and I hovered over the Book in case Nathayden wrote any more.
“So what’s the emergency with Bex besides this?” Asia asked, waving her hand at the journal.
Jeric and I gave her and Brock a quick rundown of everything that happened last night, from what I found on the internet to what Bex told Jeric on the way home this morning to her text message this afternoon. I’d barely finished when new words began scrolling across the page of the open Book. Broken phrases became complete sentences and paragraphs, flowing onto other pages. I couldn’t read aloud fast enough to keep up.
My name is Nathayden. I used to be One with Rebethannah, and we were known as Ra’den. We were One soul. Now we are two. Enyxa tore us in half and sent our halves to different worlds by bypassing the Space Between. Rebethannah and I have spent thousands of life cycles together. We were part of Earth’s Original Seven, along with Ja’mai, An’bris, Ny’zan … and others. I don’t remember their names. I don’t recall any of this myself. Enyxa has told me when she comes to see me. She comes often.
She wants me to remember the pain, but to do so, she reminds me of the joy and the love first, so that the pain cuts deeper. She forces me to relive moments with my Rebethannah, good ones and then the worst. Each time, she takes me to the end, to our Separation—from the moment of ripping us apart to stepping into the Gate with one of us in each hand to when she throws Rebethannah’s piece through one opening while holding onto mine, severing our Bond completely. Each time she forces me to relive it, the agony slices through me like a double-edged blade.
I don’t know how much more I can take.
I thought I was done, ready to succumb, but I saw my Rebethannah. You did something, Jacquelena. I know it was you. I have to believe it was you, because if it wasn’t, then it was Enyxa playing more games. I saw my true love’s beautiful face as though she stared back at me. I felt her in my soul again, if only for a brief moment. A moment of Light that has driven away the Darkness, as temporary as it may be. A moment I will treasure for as long as my soul is my own … until it reBonds with my cherished love or until Enyxa takes it.
She waits for something. Enyxa does. For me to go Dark, I am sure. For Rebethannah to, also. She believes it will happen soon, I think. She’s been growing more agitated lately. More hurtful. More excitable. So I believe she waits for something else to happen as well.
You can save us, Jacquelena. Enyxa has told me things about the Book of Phoenix. You can use it to help us. She says you know how. You and the others can keep us from going Dark. It’s in your hands …
She’s coming.
Enyxa will be here soon, I’m sure, to take me as I succumb.
Please, Jacquelena and Jeremicah. Broderick and Anastasia, I know you’re there, too … please help us. Please bring me my girl with the fiery hair and big eyes the color of Earth’s skies. She’s hurting so much. I can feel it. Hurry … before it’s too late.
Asia and I stared at the last words, waiting for more, but none came.
“You’re right,” Asia breathed. “Bex is Rebethannah.”
“And something’s seriously wrong with her,” I added. “Mason was already out on bail, so he should still be in jail—”
“You said he’s rich?” Brock asked.
“Loaded,” Jeric replied.
“Then the rules are completely different,” Asia said as her body tensed next to me. “In fact, the whole damn game is.”
I looked over at her. She stared straight ahead with a hardness to her pale face that I’d never seen before. Her eyes shone like onyx marbles.
“Step on the gas, Brock,” she ordered. “We have to hurry!”
The car sped up noticeably as we rocketed toward Orlando.
“But what are we going to do once we get to her?” Jeric asked. “How are we going to convince her about Nathayden? She pretty much told me she wants nothing to do with the male species right now.”
Silence filled the car. We all stared out our windows, none of us having a solid answer to Jeric’s questions. I tried to imagine being in Bex’s shoes and how I’d feel if someone approached me with the insane ideas we would have to tell her. It would probably take a miracle to convince her of the truth, but if it were Jeric’s and my souls on the verge of going Dark and the others knew how to help us, I’d hope they’d do anything in their power to bring us back together.
“Whatever it takes,” I whispered, and then I lifted my voice and said it more firmly. “We’ll do whatever it takes to reunite them.”
Chapter 26
The man who I thought had been so dreamy before flashed what I’d once believed to be a stunning smile. Now it was nothing but frightening.
He appeared calm and cool as he sat in the chair in the corner, one leg crossed over the other and his hands folded in his lap as if he posed for an ad for brandy or some other gentlemanly drink. His dark hair was combed back, his crisply ironed shirt buttoned, and his dress pants creased. Two glasses and a green bottle with a gold-wrapped top in a bucket of ice sat on the nightstand to his right.
“You’re supposed to be in jail,” I whispered.
He stood. I slid a step backward, too scared to make a fast move. “You have no idea how sweetly money talks, do you, precious? Cops love the sound of it. So do judges. That attorney who has the paperwork for everything I’ve done for you? He gets the wealthy clients for a reason—he earns them.”
A reminder of how he’d trapped me with his money.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, trying to stall him as I shuffled another foot backward while looking around me for anything I could use as a weapon. Of course, there were no knickknacks, not a jewelry box to throw at him, or a letter opener in sight. Not even a lamp in reach. “You could have anyone you want without being like this.”
His lips turned up slightly as he cocked his head. “I don’t want anyone. I want you, Bex. Only you.”
“And you had me. Until you went all psycho.”
He shook his head slowly, his light green eyes never breaking away from my face. “Why would you say that, precious? I’m not psycho. I’m in love. And I’m just trying to show you how much I love you.”
I started to move another step back, but his eyes tighte
ned and his jaw clenched. I froze. Except for my heart, which pounded a millions miles a minute. I needed to distract him, to keep him talking and focused on my lips that he seemed to like so much rather than my feet.
“So you … you trapped me?”
“I only took some precautions. I need to be sure you’ll never leave me, Bex. I told you—I can’t live without you. And I couldn’t take the chance that Ty or Jeric or Brock or some other asshole would come in and try to take you away from me. I knew the moment I set my eyes on you as you leaned against the wall by your mother’s hospital room that I had to have you. I had to make you mine. And then I had to make sure you’d always be mine.”
The truth of why he’d picked me over the nurses and doctors who’d been falling all over him hit me. They were just as pretty as me, if not more, and had education, fancy degrees, and professional careers. Mason took one look at me and saw a poor, small-town girl with no promise of a future who was young and sexy, yet naïve. Vulnerable.
He may have thought he was in love with me at first sight, but he also saw me as an easy target.
I moved another half-step backward, feeling behind me with my hand for the doorjamb so that as soon as I reached the door, I could spin and run.
I was not going to be an easy target.
“Bex, don’t do this,” he said, his voice pleading now. He’d taken a step, too, toward me. “I don’t want to fight tonight. Didn’t you see all the flowers and gifts I bought for you? I want to make up for last night, not fight more.” He held his arms out and open. “Come on, precious. Come back to me. Let me make love to you. Let me show you how much I love you.”
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, sounding a little on the crazy side. “Are you serious?”
“Bex, who ya talkin’ to?” Sissy called out, her voice nearing with each word.
Shit. Mason’s gaze went to a point behind me. One side of his mouth turned up in a smirk. “Mmm … sisters. A fantasy come true.”
Oh, hell no.
“Sissy, run!” I screamed as I spun to sprint after her. “Get out!”
She froze in the middle of the living room, a deer in headlights, as she stared behind me with eyes the size of pie plates. I ran several steps and reached my hands out to shove her into motion. Mason grabbed me from behind and threw me to the side like a ragdoll. My body slammed into the marble dining table. Something cracked, and I cried out as pain wracked through my side.
My heart raced. My breaths came in pants, each one agonizing, but I couldn’t slow them down. I pressed my hand against my ribs, sure at least one was broken, and pushed myself off the table, back to my feet.
Sissy tried to run, but Mason lunged, tackling her to the ground. I grabbed a vase of flowers and threw it at him. It smashed into his back, shattering and soaking his shirt as the petals rained to the floor. I grabbed another bouquet, intending to hit his head this time, but as I pulled back for the throw, he turned around. He held Sissy with her back against his chest, one of his arms pinned across the front of her shoulders. The other held a pointed glass shard to her neck.
“Let go of her!” I screamed as I hurled the vase at him.
He ducked, taking Sissy with him. The flowers hit the wall behind them and more glass shattered to the floor. Sissy kicked backwards at Mason as he forced her back upright. Whether he’d done it on purpose or it happened during the ruckus, the glass shard had dug into my sister’s skin and a small line of crimson trickled down her neck. She froze. So did I. Tears slid down her cheeks.
“See what you did, Bex?” Mason barked. “You made me hurt your sister! Don’t do that again, okay? Let’s not make this any worse than it already is.”
I held my hands up in surrender. They shook like leaves, betraying my fear. “Okay. Just let her go. She has nothin’ to do with us, with you and me. She doesn’t need to be a part of this. I’ll do whatever you want, Mason. Just, please, let her go.”
“No,” Sissy said as she stared at me with big blue eyes. “Don’t give in, Bex. I had this comin’. It’s all my fault to start with. I should have told you weeks ago what happened.”
“What? Sissy, shut up,” I said.
“Yeah, shut up,” Mason growled.
“No, you need to know,” Sissy persisted, determination on her face even as Mason dug the glass further into her skin. “I wanted to tell you before, wanted to warn you, but he threatened me. Said he’d kill me and Mama and you if I said anything to anyone.”
“Told me what?”
“Don’t,” Mason warned.
“I saw him, Bethany. Watched him throw a fit and hit that doctor. I saw what he was capable of and knew what he’d do to you if—” Her voice fell silent, and her eyes widened even more. Her fingers scratched at Mason’s hand, but only for a few seconds. A whole line of blood now poured from her throat, like from a second, dripping mouth he’d slashed into her neck. Her body went limp. Mason dropped her, and she fell to the floor.
“NO!” I screamed as I lunged for her.
His fist swung out and clocked me in the temple. Stars shot across my eyes. I stumbled and fell. The other side of my head hit the coffee table, and my vision went gray. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push the darkness away. I could not pass out now. No telling what Mason was fixing to do to me if I did. I opened my eyes in time to see him reaching for my upper arms. I flailed my fists and kicked my legs, landing a few blows but mostly missing.
“You killed her,” I screeched at him as I tried scooting back, away from him, keeping my eyes on him the whole time so they wouldn’t wander to Sissy’s body.
“She asked for it. I warned her many times.” His voice was eerily cool and calm.
“You’re a fucking monster!” I yelled. Pain tore through my ribs with the effort. Something warm dripped into my eye.
“You did this to me, Bex. You’re making me do this. I just wanted a quiet night alone with you, but you had to be all melodramatic about everything. So don’t turn the tables on me. This is all your fault, not mine.”
I shook my head, still crab-walking on my elbows and heels. He stood over me, letting me scoot, taking slow steps so I didn’t get out of reach. I moved until I could move no more, until my back pressed against the couch. He’d known he had me trapped. Again.
He leaned over to grab me. I bucked and kicked, swinging my arms as my fists pummeled at him. His large hand caught one of my wrists and twisted. I screamed as the bone broke. My body fell still.
“Now behave, and I won’t have to hurt you anymore,” he said as he lifted me by a fistful of hair. When I was almost to my feet, his other hand grasped the back of my neck. He shoved me, trying to make me turn. My ankle twisted, my feet tangled, and my shin hit the end table. I went back down to my knees. Instead of trying to lift me again, Mason dragged me by the hair toward his room. I tried to grab his legs to trip him up, but my good arm couldn’t reach. So I clawed at his hand twisted in my hair instead.
As we passed through the doorway, I kicked my leg out, catching it in the doorjamb. The snag surprised him, and he loosened his grip just enough that I could grab his thumb and yank, forcing his hand open. At the same time, I threw myself forward, feeling the hairs rip out of my scalp as I did. I lurched to my feet, hitting my head again on something I didn’t see, and the room spun as I fought a wave of sickness. I heaved myself forward, grabbing on to dining room chairs, the table, anything I could to hold myself up as I stumbled for the door. Vases of flowers tumbled to the floor, sending glass skittering across the tiles. The dark shape of Sissy’s body lay in a heap to my left. Tears streaked down my face.
“I told you, precious, I can’t let you leave me.”
Something big and hard, like a cinder block but probably Mason’s fist, slammed into my cheek. I screamed as I went down hard on my face, my broken arm unable to catch me and the ot
her caught on a chair. As it bounced to the floor, my palm landed on something sharp. I wrapped my hand around it, and then I blacked out.
I didn’t know how long I was out, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. I awoke with blood still seeping from all kinds of cuts on my hands, arms, and legs. Judging by the wetness tickling the outside corner of my eye and the taste of salty copper in my mouth, blood dripped down my face, too. I was on Mason’s bed in a kind of slumped over sitting position, propped up by pillows and my legs sprawled out in front of me.
Music suddenly began playing—You Are Mine by Mutemath—from somewhere in the room. Pain shot down my spine and across my shoulders as I lifted my head to look around. Rope and duct tape were on the nightstand to my left, next to the champagne and glasses. Mason stood at the side of the bed, looming over me, looking barely hurt at all. The sight of him had my heart galloping again and my hands balling into fists. Something dug into my right palm, slicing into my skin.
“Oh, good, you’re awake,” he said. He fingered the rope and tape. “I thought we might have some bondage fun in a bit. But first, we must celebrate.”
He picked up the green bottle and began peeling the gold foil away, while I stared at him silently. He’d overpowered me so many times already, I knew I needed to be able to catch him by surprise if I had any hope of getting out of here alive.
He looked at me expectantly. I said nothing, and he rolled his eyes.
“What are we celebrating?” he asked with an air of annoyance because I hadn’t. He dropped the foil on the nightstand and paused his fingers over the wire cage. “Let’s see. There’s my freedom to start with. Of course, there’s always our love, too. I know you’ll forgive me by the end of the night, Bex. We love each other too much for you not to. And then we can celebrate when you say yes.”
What the hell? The man was off his fucking rocker.
He twisted the wire on the bottle and the cork popped, the sound making me jump. Mason sat down on the bed beside me, stroking my thigh with one hand as if to soothe me while pouring the bubbly liquid with the other. Every muscle tensed at his touch and my stomach rolled. My whole body remained rigid when he reached for the glasses and turned to me.