This evil scum had her in his grasp. It was seven against one. She didn’t have her sword. She didn’t have her She-Wolf.
What the fuck did she have?
Her bravado hadn’t been feigned when Magda was there to take half of Morningstar’s attention, but now she was in his focus?
One word summed it up.
Fucked.
Thalia was fucked.
15
Rafe
The gaping hole in his chest wasn’t visible, but Rafe felt it like it was there. Like someone had reached into his chest and pulled out his heart.
It staggered him. Made him fall back against the bookcase behind him as agony swirled in his body, churning through his bloodstream, sending its shards into every limb, every joint.
Jonsse, the librarian and a female who was swiftly becoming a friend, jolted in surprise at the gasp Rafe let out. Maybe that was because it was more of a yip combined with a howl that came from the animal deep inside—and he wasn’t talking about the Wolf.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Jonsse approached him, her hands held out as though trying to make sure he knew she wasn’t a threat.
“I-I don’t know.” He sucked down another gasp of air. “My chest hurts. It’s worse than a heart attack.”
Jonsse snorted. “You’re a changeling, Raphael. Changelings don’t have heart attacks.”
Ever since they’d learned of his true race, he and Jonsse had spent days researching his abilities, his talents, as well as his weaknesses.
If there’d ever been a scholar intent on being an expert in Rafe’s breed, it was Jonsse. And the speed in which she read the texts she found appertaining to his race was astonishing.
For every one book he read, she read at least five.
If anyone knew whether a changeling could have a heart attack or not, it was Jonsse.
“Why does it hurt then? Why does it feel like my heart’s been ripped out?”
At his words, Jonsse studied him with a frown. “You can talk with Thalia now, yes?”
He blinked. “Yes.”
“Try.”
Thalia?
He sent out the word, but nothing was forthcoming.
What the hell?
It was like when she’d lost her She-Wolf. He’d lost the channel to reach her, and it was like that again.
He shook his head, the terror welling inside him surging through his blood like a tsunami that drowned the agony in his body. “She isn’t there.”
Jonsse’s nostrils flared, and the gesture tugged at the nasty scar on her face. “She is no longer here then.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, the pain is because there is too much distance between you.”
Rafe scowled at her. “What?”
Her nod was earnest. “I was reading about this today. The mate is the gift from the Goddess, and that is what will further cement you on the path to righteousness.”
With the pain swirling around his insides, Rafe wasn’t exactly feeling righteous. Rubbing his chest again, he sucked in a sharp breath and tried to straighten up.
It was way harder than it should have been.
Wincing, he let Jonsse help move him. When the books at his back weren’t digging into his spine, it helped with some of his discomfort. Just not all of it. She half-lugged him over to the other side of the room, to the table where they’d been working. Huge tomes were dotted here and there, and their TBR pile was stacked high and wide thanks to some of the books being the size of encyclopedias.
As he slumped over in one of the stools the library was dotted with, he immediately rested his forehead against the table. The wood was cool against the sweaty skin.
“You mean to tell me that Thalia isn’t here?” he asked, when he could finally get his thoughts together.
Jonsse murmured, “I suspect not.”
“Why?” He scowled down at the wood where she couldn’t see his features. “Where the hell would she go?”
“Somewhere far from here if your pain is anything to go by. You do not seem to be a male who is incapable of enduring pain. That this wave of agony has hit you tells me she has gone far and wide. The distance will only torture you further.”
“But why would she leave?” The hoarseness to his voice had him wincing, it was almost unrecognizable.
“Librarian?” someone called out.
“Aye. Contact Theodore. Tell him one of his triad is felled in the Great Library. Be swift about it too,” Jonsse barked.
Rafe sucked down a sharp breath, unable to feel anything but relief that Theo was coming. It might have spelled too much of a mom coming for a sick kid from school, but dammit, he was hurting, and if Jonsse was right…
The minutes passed quicker than he’d anticipated. Either that, or he was in a swirling daze that meant time slipped through his fingers without his awareness.
“Librarian? What is it?”
“Raphael is sick.” Jonsse’s tones were like cool water on a parched tongue.
Shuddering, Rafe bit off, “It came out of nowhere, Theo. Do you know where Thalia is?”
“Our quarters. I gave her leave to rest today for I had to work. Why?” the male asked, even as Rafe heard his boots against the marble floor. The tapping came to a halt beside him and Theo cupped the back of Rafe’s head.
Not unlike Rafe, Theo had healing capabilities, but Rafe had never seen the other male use them that often. He didn’t believe they were Theo’s true affinity but that he had some semblance of talent in that field and, where the Fae was concerned, a ‘semblance’ was like the power of a freight train by comparison.
Theo always seemed content to let Rafe heal their mates, but for what reason, he wasn’t sure.
As Theo cupped the back of his neck, then trickled his fingers up and through his hair, Rafe felt some easing, but the constriction was still there.
A devastating throb that threatened to decimate his nerve endings.
A sudden sharp stabbing pain appeared behind his eyes and he closed them. Tears trickled down his cheeks, but he didn’t have the wherewithal to swipe them away, just lifting his arm to do so would have triggered too much agony.
“He just fell back and clutched his chest,” Jonsse said, answering Theo’s question as to what was happening. “Out of the blue. For no reason at all. No physical reason, at any rate.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Theo asked, the words were silk raked over gravel.
“It means I have reason to believe that your Fated has traveled a great distance.”
Rafe didn’t have to look at Theo to know he’d be scowling. “She’s in our rooms. There’s nowhere else to go. Not without wings, at any rate!” he scoffed.
“You are wrong. You should check your quarters. Ensure that she’s there.”
Theo’s heel scraped against the marble. “I’ll return swiftly.
“No. There is no need to leave. Call on the birds. They will tell you.”
Rafe groaned. “The birds? Jonsse?”
“They’re security, Theodore. You know that. Tap into your mother’s magic. See what they see.”
Theo’s gulp was loud enough to be audible. Rafe didn’t even have it in him to tilt his head back to look at the other male. “I-I can’t, Jonsse.”
“Of course you can. You’re your Mother’s favorite for three reasons, child. You’re the image of your father. You can wield a sword as well as she. And your glamor is as strong as hers. Use that to your advantage.” A sharp gasp escaped Rafe as more liquid seeped down his cheeks. Jonsse muttered a low curse under her breath. “Be swift about it. Distance between her and Raphael could kill him with their bond so young.”
Theo didn’t argue again, and Rafe took his silence for compliance. A low hiss sounded next and Theo bit off, “She’s betrayed me.”
She?
With those words echoing in his ears, Rafe managed to gather the energy to lift himself away from the desk and into a sitting position. “Thalia? No. Never
. I won’t believe it.”
“Not Thalia. Magda,” Theo ground out.
“Where is she?” he demanded, his tone loaded with urgency.
But, when he looked at Theo and Jonsse, their eyes were focused on him. And for no reason Rafe could discern.
Then, Theo leaned forward, traced a hand through the tears that had seeped down his cheeks and showed Rafe his fingers.
At the sight, Rafe’s nostrils flared.
Blood.
Jonsse whispered, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Theo firmed his jaw then he reached for one of the books on the desk with his clean hand. Tilting the spine his way, he murmured, “Rafe has informed me of your research, Librarian. Now is the time to share with me everything you know about his race. And, more importantly, can we use it to figure out where the traitor in my midst has taken my mate?”
****
Mikkel
Rafe looked like what nightmares were made of.
Mikkel felt shitty saying that, but it was true. He was crying, constantly, and the blood tears were not only disconcerting, they made a mess. Droplets of red stained every surface, and his clothes were covered in the stuff.
Mikkel wanted to help, but Rafe’s agony was apparent whenever he looked at him, and it made focusing harder than it already was.
But, in the same breath, it was only because of this intense reaction that they knew the sly bitch had stolen their mate. Mikkel knew he’d never liked Magda. Her freaky-as-fuck hair had taken his attention away from her real agenda. Because there had to have been one.
No one did anything of this grandeur without an endgame.
Theo was the Queen’s favorite son.
Either Magda had a death wish, or she had reason to believe someone could keep her safe from Isaura’s clutches.
Mikkel rubbed his temple as he asked, “Who is more powerful than Isaura?”
Theo ceased his pacing. They were currently in his office and this was the first time any of them had been invited in here.
It was nothing special. Nothing more than a desk, a chair, and walls of books. Well, nothing special for this realm. Every few moments, books would float from the stacked piles on the ground and would return to their home on the shelves.
The first time it had happened, Mikkel had nearly jumped through his skin. Now? He was getting used to it. And there was a huge pile to be sorted out.
In the thirty minutes it had taken the messenger to find Mikkel and for him to return to their quarters, Theo had pulled apart the filing system that were the books on the walls in an effort to figure out why Magda had done what she’d done.
He’d found nothing.
In the face of Rafe’s tears of blood, and Theo’s edgy panic, Mikkel was relatively calm. Inside, his stomach was twisting at the knowledge that Thalia had been kidnapped, but at the same time, he’d been trained for this. He’d spent nearly every year of adulthood preparing for worse scenarios than this one.
At least, he hoped they were worse.
And that wasn’t a guarantee considering Mikkel’s logic.
Isaura was the most powerful Fae in this realm.
But there were other Fae, weren’t there?
Other Fae a stupid cunt like Magda would turn to.
When Theo turned to him, pain in his eyes, Mikkel knew he had his answer.
“Morningstar,” he said, watching the name fall from Theo’s lips in confirmation.
“Magda must have fallen,” Theo whispered, closing his eyes. Whether that was to shield tears or if it was to hide from the pain of being betrayed by someone who had been in his service for only God knew how long, Mikkel wasn’t sure.
The man was entitled to feel hurt, but they had to get a move on. Shit like this? Time was of the essence.
He’d dealt with enough hostage situations to know that every moment counted.
“Why would Morningstar even want her?” Mikkel asked, trying to understand the male’s motives.
But then, Jesus, what did the Devil ever want?
More power?
Could Thalia give him that?
“I don’t know,” Theo whispered.
Mikkel shook his head. “You have to know something.” His nostrils flared when Theo bent over the desk, his hand gripping the sides as he bowed his head, dropping it between his shoulders as though its weight was far too much for him to maintain.
Mikkel wanted to go to him, wanted to rub his back. Not in a creepy way, just in a ‘I got you’ way.
Although, thinking about it, that wasn’t exactly un-creepy.
Still, what about this fucked up situation wasn’t.
Beside him, Rafe had yet to stop weeping blood. He was getting it everywhere too. And Mikkel meant everywhere. He’d seen less of a clean-up job in a bomb blast than the mess Rafe was making. In his defense, Rafe kept trying to stop but nothing worked. Nothing Theo did, at any rate.
Even knocking him out hadn’t. Theo had done that humming shit that made them all fall asleep, but Rafe hadn’t been touched for once.
Maybe his pain was making it impossible to escape the agony of Thalia’s absence, Mikkel didn’t know. What he did know was that it looked like a chainsaw massacre in here.
“What does Morningstar even do?” Mikkel groused, trying to figure it out, and throwing words out there in the vain hope they’d stick. Because, truth was, Theo’s lack of speech was getting on his last fucking nerve.
Him standing there in brooding silence was only winding him up, and he wanted the Fae male to talk, because if they talked about this shit, maybe they could make some semblance of sense in the chaos that had fallen with Thalia’s abduction.
“There has to be a working theory,” Rafe said, but his voice was so rough it was close to unrecognizable.
It sounded like he’d been stuck on the big dipper for twelve hours straight and he’d screamed himself raw.
“Magda must have a human lover she wanted to save,” Mikkel replied. “Could that be possible?”
“It’s not impossible,” Theo said, finally speaking.
Mikkel rolled his eyes. “Well, that narrows shit down.”
“There is no other reason for a Fae to fall,” Theo said on a snarl, apparently getting pissed at Mikkel’s snark.
Could he help it?
Nope. This was his coping mechanism.
It was either be an SOB or start bawling like a baby.
Mikkel knew which one he preferred.
Rubbing his chin, he asked, “Why? Surely there are other reasons?”
But Theo shook his head. “No.”
“I’m starting to understand why Thalia gets pissed at your one word answers.” When Rafe’s tears began to fall harder, Mikkel quickly, in an attempt at a distraction, blurted out, “So, what can Morningstar do that Isaura can’t?”
“I told you,” Theo replied, “he was the first king of the Fae. When he was cast out of Heden, they say he made a deal with Vulcun. That deal enabled him to use powers that are not available to us.”
“So, what? He can make people immortal?”
“No. I don’t know what he does. I just know that he can promise his Fallen access to the people they loved for all eternity.”
Mikkel scowled at that. “How is that possible?”
Theo rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Nobody really knows. The Dark Fae, or the Fallen as we sometimes call them, don’t mix with us once they’re cast out.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Either they avoid us or they just…” He shrugged. “Cease to recognize us, maybe?”
“But, with all these Fallen, what does Morningstar do with them?”
He licked his lips. “His bidding.”
Mikkel accepted that, because what ruler didn’t need peons to boss around. “Okay, so why would Morningstar want to get to Thalia?”
“Would he know of the prophecy?” Rafe asked in his low, quiet, and very rough tone.
“I’d be surprised if h
e didn’t,” Theo replied on a soft breath.
Mikkel thought about the prophecy and asked, “You know the last lines of it?”
Theo nodded, and recounted it, “Her trinity of mates will be her guiding light, the final end to counter the bright star of morning’s powers.”
“You don’t think…” Mikkel cut Rafe and Theo a look. “Well, what if he wants to snuff her out before she can be ‘the final end’ to his powers?”
Theo shook his head. “The prophecy is Goddess-driven.”
“So?” Mikkel shot him a look. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means it’s not destructive.” The answer didn’t come from Theo, but Rafe.
“How do you know that?”
Rafe reached up and swiped at his bleeding eyes, making Mikkel pull a face at all the blood that coated his fingers. Shit, it was enough to stir a PTSD trip. “Because I’ve been reading up on it. The Library is filled with books on it. The Goddess doesn’t destroy. She rebuilds.”
“And he’d know that?”
Theo nodded. “He would. More than anyone. He was the first of the firstborn, Mikkel. He was her first child.”
“Shit, that must have stung when he betrayed her.”
Rafe snorted. “Understatement, Mikkel. Stung? No. Devastation. But she’s not destructive,” he reiterated.
“So, what? Maybe in his head it’s a different kind of ‘final end’?”
Theo scowled. “What do you mean?”
“Like, the ball and chain kind of end?”
“What are you talking about?” Theo demanded, his nostrils flaring with irritation.
He huffed. “Marriage, Theo. Marriage. Maybe he thinks she was meant for him. Like some weird Bride of Frankenstein or some shit like that? Mates could mean friends, so a trinity of friends are supposed to lead her to him and, after that, she’s his?”
Theo started to shake his head, then he hissed out a breath. “He could well think that. I don’t see why not. There are holes to the theory but we’re working blind.”
“Surely Magda would have informed him that she is your fated?” Rafe argued.
Mikkel sniffed. “You love someone. They’re dying. Someone offers you a deal. Do you tell them anything that might hinder the deal? Like, ya know, the fact the woman you’re bargaining over belongs to someone else?”
Triad (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 3) Page 26