“Can the oracle come to me?” she asked him, after a few moments of silence.
He shook his head. “Besides the fact that her mate would not allow it, the oracle is the most important person in our tribe. We can't risk her safety.”
Her eyes narrowed, Bron held his hand up to stem any argument. “We have many enemies Dalia, don't take it personal.”
She nodded briskly, but doubt still clouded her eyes. He stood to dress.
“I don’t know if I'm ready to see your oracle,” Dalia told him quietly.
He slid his pants on. He wouldn't push her. They were mated now; he'd have time to convince her to come with him.
“I understand, Dalia. Until you're ready, we can enjoy ourselves though, no?” He gave her a mischievous smile relieving the tension in the room. “It will be dawn soon. I'll leave you to rest.”
He kissed her, wanting nothing more than to stay through the day with her. But he would leave and give her time to think. He had to convince her to come in on her own, otherwise the others would force his hand. He didn't want to lose the tentative trust they built.
Chapter 12
"DO YOU MAKE IT A HABIT OF SNEAKING OUT of doors early in the a.m., warrior?" Isabelle’s strong, calm voice called from the back door of her kitchen.
Bron froze in guilt. "I wasn't aware I was sneaking, Doña." He kept his voice light, a smile curving his lips. He knew now where Dalia got her directness.
Isabelle smiled and lifted her hand to motion him into her home. He followed her with a mix of trepidation and curiosity. She called him warrior in an endearing tone. He'd only spoken to her briefly before, and only about his need to speak with her daughter. He wondered how she knew what he was.
He settled into the small table where he'd eaten the first time he visited. His stomach rumbled as the smell of baked bread assaulted his senses. He groaned appreciatively as Isabelle set a fresh loaf in the middle of the table. A small dish with butter was next, as well as a jar of strawberry preserves.
"How are you able to bake bread?"
"Dalia and my son hired a woman to help me during the day. We make the dough each week and I freeze it. I've lived in this house for over sixty years, I know my way around the kitchen." Isabelle explained.
She stopped and stared in his direction. A light brush feathered through his mind, probed his thoughts. His eyes widened in surprise, but he still allowed her perusal through his thoughts.
Her face was solemn when she finished. "Why do you seek my daughter, warrior?"
"You've seen my mind, Doña,” he said, "You know I mean her no harm."
"I also know that you keep me from seeing things you don't want me to see." Her voice stern, echoed with power. "I know that you're one of Oya’s warriors.”
Bron stopped eating and stared. Damn, she'd seen more than he thought. He berated himself for not paying more attention to the power she held. He was so busy chasing her daughter he had not given much thought to this petite woman.
“And how would you know that?”
She muttered under her breath in Spanish about arrogant men, and Bron couldn't help the smile that tilted his lips.
“There are those of us in Loíza who haven't forgotten from where we came, warrior. I knew the moment the oracle was found. I felt the connection to the tribe the very minute she embraced her powers. She's the reason I allowed you into my home earlier.” She scolded him, her voice thick with emotion.
Respect for this woman blossomed. Bron grabbed her hand. “Then you know that the basíkùlú must be completed.” He watched her face as she thought over his words, and saw the exact moment she understood.
Her mouth parted in a gasp. "Dalia is part of the cycle?" she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper, her hands shaking.
"She's the álà-írín." He stated simply.
Isabelle stood from her chair, turning her back to Bron. She fixed him a cup of tea, using the routine to calm her nerves. "Dream walker," she whispered to herself. "My family has always been able to converse with those beyond the veil, but none have ever traveled…" her voice caught and she cleared her throat. "It's said to be dangerous." She busied herself around the kitchen keeping her back to Bron’s.
He walked to the counter, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. “It's said to be very dangerous, but only for those without an anchor. Dalia has one.”
“Family is not a strong enough anchor,” she told him adamantly.
Bron raised his eyebrows in question at how sure she sounded.
“There are plenty of fools in this country who have tried, trust me; family is not a strong enough anchor.” She gripped the edge of the counter, her knuckles white.
“Her mate is a strong enough anchor, Doña Isabelle,” Bron insisted. “I'll not allow her to lose herself beyond the veil.”
Isabelle’s unseeing eyes gleamed with gratitude as she turned to face him. She touched his heart and once again her power moved through his mind with light steps. He allowed her to feel the ties between him and Dalia.
“You've bonded with her,” she whispered. “What does Dalia say of this?”
Bron tensed, backing away from her. Isabelle muttered under her breath again, this time curse words littered her speech about arrogant men.
“I understand Spanish you know,” Bron told her irritably. He had yet to come to terms with the fact that he bonded with Dalia. He was not ready to discuss it with anyone, especially her mother.
“That doesn't make you any less of an ass.” She snapped. “You don’t think she’s going to find out?”
“I've barely come to the realization. I have to find a way to tell her that won’t scare her off.” He said defensively.
She snorted. “Cobarde.”
Bron stiffened, his beast awakening from its slumber at her insult. He was not a coward.
“Your daughter is Ajo, Doña, she hardly trusts me as it is; she'll think I'm using it to sway her.” And that he wouldn't risk. It would ruin their relationship.
Isabelle sat down, pale and shaken. “Mentiroso!” She made a sign of the cross. "I have felt my daughter’s soul. She is pure, there is no trace of evil to mark her Ajo. You must be mistaken."
“First a coward and now a liar, you don’t think much of me, do you Doña?”
Disbelief deepened the frown lines on her face, distress poured off her in waves. He felt bad for giving her the news.
“I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but you need to understand what I'm facing. I can't claim my mate until this is resolved.” Frustration burned away the rest of his content mood.
“I've felt your bond, you've already claimed her. She's not evil, Bron. I would know it,” Isabelle insisted, her voice strong.
“I'm her mate, Isabelle, you’re right, I've bonded with her and I know that she's not evil.” Bron sighed, running his hands over his head. “I can't explain how she remains pure despite the corrupted powers, and until I'm able to, I can't bring her to our safe house for her to claim her place.”
Isabelle lifted her chin, an inner strength lighting her eyes and filling the room with her power. Her distress was pushed aside by determination. “I have heard nothing of my daughter from beyond the veil. Are you certain?” she asked him.
Bron nodded his head forgetting that she was unable to see the motion. “She has the markings.”
Isabelle nodded, “I felt the change in her soul, and had it confirmed through my guides, but I didn't know she was Ajo.” She was silent as she digested the news.
“She doesn't exhibit any of the other signs of the Ajo,” Bron reassured. “We can't know anything for certain until the oracle sees her.”
“And you're not comfortable bringing an Ajo before the oracle,” she murmured.
“The oracle was threatened a year ago by a vampire trying to convert the descendants of the tribe into Ajo to use their power as his own. We can't afford the risk to the oracle. The Ijoye would rather be safe than sorry.”
“I’ve spoken to the or
acle, why would she not tell me my daughter is Ajo?”
“To Zahra it's not an issue, the goddess has chosen her and that's all that matters.”
“She will be good, this oracle. I can feel her strength,” she told him. “What will you do?”
“I'll try to convince Dalia to give up the corrupted powers. If I can't, then we'll have to come up with another way for the two of them to meet.”
Isabelle stood again pacing the small kitchen. “My daughter is not as tough as she would have people believe, Bron. You must tread carefully. I don’t want her hurt.”
“I won't allow her to be harmed.” He promised.
“Even if it's by your own carelessness?” She questioned solemnly.
Bron was at a loss for what to say. “I won't hurt Dalia purposely, Doña.”
Isabelle nodded, walking to her back door. She held it open. "See that you don’t.”
Bron left the house with his mind churning. He didn't want to hurt Dalia, but he was afraid with his duty to the tribe, it would be inevitable.
“WHAT IS TAKING SO LONG, Lev?” Nala barked.
Her second shrugged mockingly. She hissed in annoyance, pacing the study where she'd been spending much of her time these last few weeks. She paced to the wooden bust occupying one corner of the room. She ran her hands longingly over the hair and down its face to trace its proud nose and the arrogant jut of its chin. The artist had captured the details of the face in loving accuracy, but no medium could capture the fire and power that would glow within the eyes. The bust hinted at the power, its full lips and slashing cheekbones showcasing the confidence its subject always displayed. Lev’s voice shook Nala from her thoughts.
“She has taken up with one of the oracle’s warriors.”
She turned to him, keeping her face a mask. Though from the triumphant look in his eye she didn't mask her anger. “Who?”
“The one named Bron,” he answered.
Nala turned her back to him before she gave away her relief. Nala dismissed the warrior from her mind. His closeness to Dalia was of no importance to her. She remembered him as a temple guard but not one she would worry over… except, he was supposed to be confined to the temple as part of the warriors’ punishment. Nala’s eyes narrowed in thought. If he was out gallivanting with Dalia, then who was guarding the temple?
“Was there any activity at the temple?” she asked sharply, her mind turning over possibilities.
“We still can't find the temple.” Lev answered.
Nala looked up sharply. "Did you follow my directions?"
“Yes, there was nothing there."
"And their leader?” she questioned.
“No sign of him. The last person we sent to search for the temple has disappeared.”
Nala turned to face Lev at his answer. "Disappeared?"
Lev nodded. “Disappeared."
Then they were close. She would keep digging. Finding the temple was necessary to keep the agreement she had in place. Nala paced back to the bust. "Is there any luck finding their safe house?"
"We've tried to have the warriors followed, but the Amanda have interfered," Lev reported.
Nala growled at hearing that. The Amanda helped the Ajo council govern their behavior. They were a supposed to deter the Ajo from breaking the treaty, a nuisance, but Nala knew better than to take them on. “Dalia has been in Puerto Rico for two weeks, have you gone through her home?”
“Yes Nala, surveillance has been put into her apartment. When she gets home we will know every move she makes."
She ignored the aggravation in his tone, satisfied with the plan in place. She lifted her hand in a negligent wave and dismissed Lev. She waited until the door closed quietly behind him before she reached out for the bust. Her hands shook only slightly as she smoothed its cheek.
"You think to hide from me, Ijoye," she whispered, tracing the lips of the bust. "I'll have you soon, and we can be together as we were meant to be.” She laid a small kiss to the top of the bust’s head. She traced the nicks in the wood that showed off the cornrows he used to wear in his hair. At one time the hair reached his back, a mane, like that of their animal.
She knew that his head was bald now and it angered her. A warrior only cut his hair in grief or punishment. She hated that he still mourned for that woman after all these years. She wouldn't allow it any longer. This time she would have him, and there would be no one to stand in her way.
Chapter 13
"I NEED TO HEAD BACK HOME." Dalia trailed kisses down Bron’s abdomen. His skin was salty and damp from their earlier swim. They were stretched out on a secluded beach where Dalia swam when she was younger. They’d spent the balmy evening swimming and were now resting on a blanket they'd commandeered from Bron’s condo.
“When?” Bron’s body tensed under her lips.
“Probably tomorrow evening.” Her body was tense also as she waited on his response. They’d spent the past two weeks after the festival getting to know each other. Both of them by unspoken agreement avoided the subject of her going to see the oracle.
Bron spent that time in what Dalia had to say was an old fashion courting. He picked her up from her room each night, taking her to dinner. Dalia shivered as she thought of how they spent the rest of the evening. Bron was a very attentive lover; he did things to her body she would never forget.
Her stomach pitched as she thought of leaving. If she didn’t know any better she would think she was beginning to fall in love with him. She sat up suddenly as the scary thought tried to take root in her mind.
Bron caught her forearm to keep her from moving any further. He pulled her back into his arms. “What’s your rush?" He nuzzled the spot between her shoulder and neck, scraping his teeth lightly across the spot that was a little sore from his bite from their earlier lovemaking.
“There are things I should be doing at home.” Though with him licking her as he was she had a hard time remembering what.
“Are you sure you’re not avoiding the oracle?” The stillness of his body gave away his anxiety.
Dalia thought about the visit she had had from Nala. She was curious about what the oracle would tell her, but Dalia refused to be used.
“I’m not avoiding the oracle. I haven’t made up my mind,” she lied.
His eyes hardened, and he nipped her shoulder harder, his teeth bearing down on her skin. “I thought we already established that there would be no lies between us.” he growled.
She shrugged, feeling no guilt for the lie. His power flared, moving between them, and for a moment the spot where he bit her tingled. She shivered at the sensation.
“Why won’t you allow me to take you to the oracle?” he asked her.
“I thought your brothers didn't trust the Ajo.” No way would she run into a house full of people that hated her on principle.
Bron sighed. “My brothers can't go against the oracle when she's speaking for our goddess.”
“Regardless, they would be all up in my face the moment I got there."
“Really, sweetheart, do you think I would allow something to happen to you?” he scoffed.“How do I know they won’t try and take my powers when I get there?” It really boiled down to that. Her power was the only thing that'd kept her alive for so long. She wouldn't give it up.
Bron became still, dangerously still. He eyed her as she stood, and Dalia felt liked a stalked animal.
"You're not willing to lose the corrupt powers?"
"Who says they are corrupt? I don’t feel corrupt or evil."
“That is beside the point, Dalia. I told you the powers were stolen from our goddess. You would keep what belongs to another, knowing the dangers?”
Dalia flinched at his words, a picture of a woman and a blue stone flashed quickly through her mind. The image was accompanied by flashes of other images one right behind the other like a stop motion movie, each image too fast to process. Dalia blinked quickly and backed away from Bron and his words.
“I've stolen noth
ing,” she protested.
“You wouldn't remember,” Bron insisted.
Oh but she did. The images came faster, making her dizzy. "I remember being given a stone, a blue stone,” she blurted out. The flash of images had left her confused and shaken.
“That’s not possible, Dalia,” Bron told her quietly. He was adamant, which only added to her confusion. "I explained to you how the Ajo gained their powers."
She shook her head. "You don’t know what I remember."
“Dalia,” he started. “You will have to give up those powers.”
Anger made her body tremble. Why didn't he understand? "I won’t be helpless again.”
"Dalia, I wouldn't ask this of you if it weren't important."
"My power is important to me." She would be dead without them. She would not, could not give them up.
“Dalia, we went up against Maksim. I know he convinced those he kidnapped to steal for him by holding their loved ones. Whom did he hold over your head?" He stared, his eyes full of understanding as he waited on her answer.
Dalia turned her back to him, trying to shove away the guilt. She ran for the ocean and hit the water just as the tears she held back leaked from her eyes. She ducked her head under and allowed the waves to toss her around before gaining control and swimming through.
The pain of being helpless washed through her as she moved beneath the water. She couldn't go back to what she was before, being helpless made you a victim and she was no one’s victim. The constant hunger, the beatings, the torture, all played in her mind as she swam. Bron said he knew Maksim, but he couldn't know the monster Maksim really was.
She knew.
First hand.
She would never willingly give up the powers that helped her escape those two years of hell. Surfacing a few minutes later, her eyes scanned for Bron even as she tried to deny her need for him. He was there, just at the edge of the water, waiting patiently for her. She realized she loved that about him, his unending patience. These last couple of weeks she'd pushed and prodded him trying to keep him from getting too close and still he was patient.
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