"You wanna lock me up."
“I want to protect you, yes.” He admitted. “But I know the person that you are, mi ôkàn. I know you would never be satisfied on the sidelines.”
“So then this discussion is over.”
He growled. She was nothing if not stubborn.
"You can't continue to risk yourself, Dalia."
"It's my life, Bron. You don't get much of a say in it." She met his eyes, daring him, pushing him.
"Have you thought about what would happen to your family if something were to happen to you?" His jaw was bunched, the muscle in his cheek throbbing as he fought for control.
"That was unnecessary," she whispered. A spark of guilt flickered through her eyes.
"If you can't think of your family, then think of me. Do you have any idea what would happen were I to lose you?" Fear wrapped itself firmly around his heart, its rhythm stuttering as he thought of losing her. A part of him would never be the same if he lost her. Hell, he was dead if he lost her.
"I've been doing this for too long to stop, Bron." She lifted her chin. The truth of that statement shone in her eyes. She wouldn't stop.
Bron closed his eyes as his beast clawed through his body, trying to force his change. His back bowed as he fought the urge to force her submission. "Go to your room, Dalia." He could barely speak around his growing teeth.
"You have got to be kidding," she snapped. Her eyes widened as she finally realized what she faced.
He roared, his knees hitting the floor. He wanted to chase her, run after her, throw her down on the nearest surface and keep her under him until she agreed with him.
'Bron?' Zahra's touch brushed through his mind.
'Too far gone… need… ' His body was wrenched as Zahra transported him to the forest outside of their safe house. The change barreled over him and his lion roared in anger. Any human thoughts he had were pushed to the back of his subconscious. He prayed no one would approach him in this state.
Chapter 16
DALIA PACED HER BEDROOM, her fight with Bron running through her mind. She hated that she'd pushed him that far. She sat on the edge of her bed and grimaced when something poke into her back. She pulled the gray satchel Zahra gave her from the small of her back where it had been tucked. Dumping the contents in her hand she marveled at the beautiful necklace that fell out. It was a thin gold chain; the charm was a large tornado, worked in gold and as delicate as a spider web.
Dalia wondered at its purpose, Zahra asked her to wear it before she went to sleep. She draped the chain over her neck and closed her eyes as comfort swept through her. She hastily wiped away a tear that escaped. Opening her eyes, she reached for her cell phone. Her mother answered after the first ring.
“Are you okay mi’ja?’ she asked in greeting.
“I'm fine, mama,” Dalia answered quickly.
“I was afraid…” her mother cleared her throat. “I received word of the danger around you and was worried.”
“Did your spirits tell you?” Dalia joked and then felt contrite. “Sorry mama, bad joke.” She fingered the necklace, trying to work up courage.
“You have seen the oracle,” Isabelle said gently, “Ask me your questions, Dalia, I can feel your tension.”
Dalia exhaled. “How do you know I saw the oracle?”
Isabelle scoffed. “Those same spirits you mock.”
Dalia winced. “She said I was something called the álà-írín.”
“So it's true.” Her mother's voice was weary.
“You know what that means?” Dalia fingered the delicate charm. “I knew it sounded familiar but I couldn't remember where I'd heard it."
“That’s because you and your brother never listened. We tried to teach both of you some of the old ways,” her mother accused.
“Old being the operative word,” Dalia muttered.
“Watch your tone Dalia Lebron, I'm your mother.” Isabelle said laughing.
“What does it mean, mama?”
“A dream-walker is a person who's able to travel across the veil. They leave their bodies and their spirit travels there. It's said, they were used to carry offerings to the gods.” Isabelle explained. “The gift has always been in our family.”
“Is that why I was chosen?” Dalia asked.
“Maybe, but I can't speak for the goddess,” Isabelle said. “It's very dangerous, mi’ja. You must guard yourself at all times.”
“I'm always on guard, mama.” Except when she was rushing to meet Bron. He distracted her to the point she didn’t notice someone following her this evening. “Why is it dangerous?”
“Your spirit leaves your body, for the time you're gone, your body lies vacant. There are many on the other side of the veil who roam, seeking a way back to life.” Isabelle answered carefully.
A chill snaked down her spine. “What do you mean, a way back to life? Do you mean they could use my body, like possess me?” Dalia shuddered. She took her mother’s silence as a yes, but she sensed there was more. “What else mama?”
“I'll give you the warnings that have been passed through our family and I want you to listen well mi’ja. Your great-aunt was the álà-írín during her life and she made sure to pass to us the rules as they were given to her.”
“I’m listening.”
“To cross the veil is always difficult the first time, it requires immense concentration and is very painful. Unlike the others of the basíkùlú you have a direct link to the goddess, this link is the light that guides you through the darkness of the veil and allows you to cross. Many get lost in the darkness, unable to focus on the light. It's important that once you find the light, your eyes do not stray from it. Never! Don't ever allow your eyes to leave the light until you have crossed. Is that clear?”
The desperation in her mother's tone scared her. “Si mama, look at the light and only the light” Dalia recited, her hands shaking.
“Once you're across the veil, it's a wondrous place for some. There're many who get lulled by the peace offered there and refuse to come back to their body. That's why an anchor is important. You need someone or something on this side that you love more than the sense of peace and happiness you would feel there. I have to stress to you that sometimes family is not enough mi hija.”
“I love you mama, more than my life,” Dalia promised.
“I know this, baby, but once there, believe me, family starts to slowly fade.” Isabelle insisted.
“I would never-” Dalia started.
“Listen, Dalia!” Isabelle snapped. “Family is not enough. Do not cross the veil until you have a strong anchor mi’ja. Don't allow arrogance to cloud your instincts.”
“Yes, mama,” Dalia said quietly.
“Now, you must always guard your body Dalia, even when you sleep. Every time you cross the veil, it becomes easier the next time. So much so, that your spirit begins to drift between the two planes when you are sleeping. When you next come to Loíza I'll have the local bruja make an amulet for you.” Isabelle told her.
Dalia eyed the necklace. “The oracle gave me one already, mama. It has a tornado on it.”
Her mother sighed in relief. "Good, it’s a cyclone, Oya is goddess of the winds. That means the amulet was blessed by the goddess herself, it'll be better protection than anything our bruja could make.”
“This scares me mama.”
“I'm scared for you, Dalia, but without the basíkùlú there would be much evil in this world.” She consoled. “You would be serving a great purpose. I know you long for that.”
“Why does every one assume I need a purpose,” Dalia grumbled. Bron's earlier words flitted across her mind.
“Because your spirit is seeking vindication for the crime done to you, Dalia. Your aura fairly reeks with it, so one can only assume you're looking for a purpose, or an outlet for all that pent up vengeance. If not it would eat you alive, daughter.”
"Does that make me a bad person?”
“No mi’ja.” Isabelle chuckle
d. "If there were no vindictiveness in you, then I would wonder if you were switched at birth. The women in our family have a long history of vengeful acts. There aren't many who would cross us.”
Dalia laughed, feeling better. “Yeah, those stories I paid attention to. Abuela made quite a name for herself in Loíza.”
“I should tell you that revenge would only sustain you for so long, Dalia. You'll need something more in your life.”
“I can’t think about the future, mama” Even as she said that she thought of Bron.
“Hija, the situation you find yourself in should tell you that futures and pasts have a strange way of affecting the now.” Her mother told her.
Dalia sighed. “You're right about that.”
“Now repeat the rules to me so that I know you have them,” her mother instructed.
“Don't look away from the light, hold on to your anchor and guard your body,” Dalia recited dutifully.
“Good, please be careful, Dalia.”
“I love you mama.”
“I love you too, Dalia. Call me if you need anything.”
Dalia was glad that she'd called her mother. She mulled over the oracle’s words and put them together with the information she got from her mother. She still wondered why she was chosen.
“DALIA HAS SEEN THE ORACLE,” Lev announced at the door of Nala’s ‘playroom’. He looked around the room in disinterest. Nala used the room to convert new vampires, and retrain the old. Manacles, whips and various torture devices lined the walls contrasting with the beautiful marble that covered the floors. The room itself was built with a natural slope, all feeding into drains Nala had put in the middle of the room under the table that took up the middle of the room. The temperature was purposely high in this room; the heat added another level of pain. She looked up from a newly turned vampire shackled to the table she used for conversions. The vampire on the table writhed in pain, his teeth bared, blood dripping from his fangs. Lev barely stopped himself from taking a step back at the malice he saw in Nala’s eyes.
“When?” she hissed.
“Today, they met at Haven.” He told her. “The Ajo there called me and I sent back-up.” Lev flinched at the sinister smile that lit her face. He was unable to look away as she sauntered to him, her hips swaying erotically. Her nails cut into his face as she grabbed his chin. Madness gleamed in her eyes.
“If you knew where the oracle was, then why do I not have possession of the amulet she wears?” she asked him sweetly.
“She escaped. The Amanda..."
Her nails dug into his face cutting off his words. “What were my instructions, Lev?”
“To take the oracle and their leader, if the oracle could not be taken, kill her and take the amulet.”
“So, again I ask you, why am I not in possession of the amulet?” She used her other hand to dig into his shoulder.
Blood trailed his back. "We could not get past the Amanda.”
“That is unacceptable, Lev,” she purred.
Lev watched the way her eyes lit and knew that he would soon occupy the far wall of this room. He could not stop the surge of excitement at the thought of her punishment.
“I see I'll have to handle this myself. Be a good boy and get into position,” she told him. Lev walked to the wall and stood with his back against it. He closed his eyes as the manacles snapped to his wrist; he felt his feet leave the ground and his shoulders pulled tight as the chains lifted him. His eyes opened a few moments later when he could detect no movement from Nala, by now she would have lashed him at least twice. He shuffled in alarm, when he saw her staring at him from the door. The silence stretched between them and Lev felt his first real twinge of worry.
“Did you know that burns are nearly impossible for us to heal.” She leaned her shoulder against the doorjamb, her casual tone making him squirm. “I will let you think about that while I go and do the job you were supposed to do.”
Worry turned to full blown fear when the door shut and the lights were doused. Lev could hear the vampire on the table struggling against his bonds; his inhuman snarls sending chills through Lev. The only light came from a far corner and the source turned his stomach, three rods sat on a hot plate, their tips red from being heated for who knew how long. Too late, Lev realized he had pushed Nala too far.
Chapter 17
BRON COLLAPSED AT THE edge of the woods, his body too tired to go another step, yet the anger still rode him. He kept his eyes opened, refusing to so much as blink. Every time his eyes closed he saw another image of Dalia’s torture. He changed forms tiredly, wishing he'd remembered to bring clothes with him. He thought briefly of the concentration it would take to produce clothes and dismissed the idea. He couldn’t work up the energy.
“Looks like you could use these.” Fynn threw a pair of jeans to him.
Grateful, Bron rolled over and slid them up his legs.
“Must have been some argument.” He plopped next to Bron on the grass.
“She was tortured, Fynn,” Bron whispered. “My mate was tortured for two years.” He rubbed the heel of his hands into his eyes, hoping to dislodge the images.
“She told you?”
Bron shook his head. “I had to push into her mind to find out.”
“And now you can’t get rid of the images,” Fynn finished for him. “I’m sorry, Bron. I can't imagine how hard that was for both of you.”
“Not for me, I didn't have to live it.” He didn't know how she survived it.
“She's stronger for it, Bron,” Fynn said quietly. “It's made her into the kind of mate you and your beast needs.”
“Meaning?”
“You won't have to worry about her being hurt when you're not around. Your mate is able to care for herself.”
Bron nodded shortly as Fynn’s point hit home. “How do you handle the anger, Fynn?” He stared straight ahead. “The guilt, I can deal with the guilt, but the anger…”
“At the risk of sounding hypocritical, you have to let it go, baba. It won't do you any good and she'll need you to help her. You can’t do that if you're caught up in the images.” Fynn flinched when Bron threw his head back and roared, the sound tortured and mournful.
He grabbed Bron, touching their foreheads together. The contact calmed them both and helped dissipate Bron’s anger. They both tensed as something moved through the brush. Bakari and Saleem walked over to them.
"I need to speak with you, Bron." Bakari looked at Fynn, waiting on him to leave.
"Fynn can hear whatever you have to say to me, Ijoye," He was too tired for this.
“What happened tonight was unacceptable, Bron, we can't risk the oracle again.” Bakari’s eyes narrowed. “You have to take the Ajo’s power so she can be brought back here to the safe house.”
“Her name is Dalia.” Bron clenched his teeth to hold back what he really wanted to say. "And I can't make her give up her powers."
“Then take them. If you can't, then I'll send someone else to do it,” Bakari warned.
Bron growled at the threat behind the Ijoye’s words. "I will not allow another to touch her."
"Then do what you are supposed to do!" Bakari shouted. "I won't allow an Ajo into our house. If you can't do your duty—"
“Don't lecture me on duty,” Bron growled. “I've done my duty to this tribe, even when others were too busy to do theirs."
Bakari flinched, his eyes changing to signal his anger. “I won't tell you again, Bron.”
“She's hiding something, surely you can see that. Would you rather us find out after the oracle is hurt?” Saleem tried to reason. “You know I'm right.”
“Yes, you are always right, aren’t you, Saleem.” Bron felt cornered, and the need to lash out uppermost in his mind. Despite his weariness, strength from his beast flooded his body. The images of Dalia's torture fed his anger, they had no idea the sacrifices she'd already made, no idea what they were asking him to do. “Your arrogance won't allow you to be wrong. It cost you your mate, I w
on't let it cost me mine. Those powers have kept her alive. I won't willingly weaken her.”
“You would choose the Ajo over the oracle’s safety?” Saleem asked incredulously.
“I shouldn't have to choose. The goddess has already chosen Dalia. I won't make the mistake of doubting her judgment again.”
“You're blinded by your mate and obviously too weak to do what needs to be done.” Bakari spat.
“I can't do this, Ijoye.” He wouldn't do it.
“Is your loyalty with this tribe or not?” Bakari's eyes were hard, unyielding.
“I've been proving my loyalty to this tribe for over five hundred years. Why must I continue to be tested? I was at the temple, taking care of your responsibility, Ijoye. When you were too weak with grief, I named your son. I helped Aissa care for him. When the village tried to kill him I was there to help him. I taught him to be the warrior he is. It's to me he turns when he needs help, so don't lecture me on loyalty.” Bron snarled. “I know Dalia, she wouldn't harm Zahra.”
“And you are such an excellent judge of character,” Saleem sneered, stepping closer to Bron. “You weren't at the temple because of your sense of duty, Bron. You were there because you were punished. You defended the villagers even after they'd cost us the first oracle. Those same villagers turned around and killed my mate, so you'll excuse me if we don't rely on your judge of character.”
“Aissa died because you wouldn't allow me to keep her safe. It could've been avoided, Saleem. You and the Ijoye stand there in judgment of me because of one perceived mistake. I didn't choose to leave them vulnerable. I'm not the hero who left his mate alone with minimal defense.”
“No, Bron,” Fynn grabbed Bron’s shoulders trying to pull him back from the confrontation.
Bakari’s eyes were tortured as he stared at the warrior.
“There is too much anger, don’t say something you'll regret.” Fynn pleaded.
“I'm sorry Fynn, but I can't let it go any longer. This has been between us for too long. I won't let it taint what I have with Dalia.” Bron shook his head fighting the flood of memories from that night. “Layla was in pain, Bakari. You weren't there, you didn't hear the screams. Aissa couldn't handle it, she wanted the midwife there to help. She and the oracle argued, Layla said there was no time to wait.” he stopped, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “Nuru and I fought over who should stay but in the end he was elder to me, so I was sent to the village. For the rest of my days, I suffer the guilt for not getting back in time.”
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