“Can't you keep it here in Eden?” Rhett asked. He too had not shaved. His chin and jaw sported a thick layer of golden whiskers.
“No. To keep it here would be to invite chaos into Eden. The Fallen will seek it out, as they always have, and to lure them here would result in terrible consequences,” Ashrael said.
“Don't they know where it is already, since one followed us back to the Temple?” Rhett asked.
“You killed him and any knowledge he had of this place is therefore gone. If you hadn't, Rhett, things would have gone much differently.”
Rhett rubbed a palm up and down the thigh of his jeans. He scanned a look over the pristine acreage and distant hills. “So we take it back out into the world and hide it—how do we know the Fallen won't find us again? Aren't they walking around out there among everyone else?”
“Yes. But they always have been. You will not see them anymore than you ever did before now. The ones who saw your face are dead. There is no way for them to transfer that knowledge to those still living. You have the advantage in that they will not expose themselves usually to the general public unless we are in a scenario like what just happened. And if it should come to that again, there will be no stopping it,” Ashrael said.
“Have the men in power who came after us survived?” Dracht asked.
Ashrael, for a fleeting moment, wore a look of distaste. “They have a long reach, Dracht. Their influence and pockets are deep. A few, at least, have undoubtedly lived through this.”
“So we're back at square one, really,” Rhett intervened.
“Not necessarily.” Ashrael met each Templar's eyes. “The Fallen and the men in power who seek Eden don't know whether the daughters have survived either. It will be easy to blend in with the remaining population and, for a while at least, you will not have to worry about problems like facial recognition and chips inserted into your body that will make it impossible to hide. If you're very lucky, opinion will shift away from these ideas of entrapment and you will have little to worry about.”
“That's part of our job too, isn't it?” Dracht asked.
“It's up to you if you choose to shape the future that way,” Ashrael said.
“It's what most of this was for. So we would come away from all this with experience we wouldn't have had otherwise. Our choices, now, will be different.” Dracht sounded like he'd just had an epiphany.
Ashrael smiled and did not confirm or deny it.
“What about Christian's son?” Dragar asked. His expression was one any grieving father would wear, solemn and serious. “Did he survive all this?”
Ashrael hesitated, as if he knew he shouldn't answer the question. “He and his mother did not make it. I'm sorry.”
The brothers and father shared a look; none of them said anything. It was another tragedy to put behind them, like the loss of Christian.
Rhett thrust a hand through his hair a moment later and eyed the Book of Seals thoughtfully. One side of his face still sported scrapes, scabs and scars from being drug over the ground.
Evelyn wondered what he was thinking. If he was regretting his involvement. Breaking her silence, she said, “The Tree won't come to us. Let's get going.”
†
Rhett had never seen anything quite like it. The Eden of his imaginings couldn't compare to the pristine beauty in every direction. It was rugged, serene, breathtaking. Water was clearer, the grass greener and sweeter. Steep cliffs gave way to deep valleys and pocket meadows sprouted up everywhere.
There seemed to be no particular trail the girls guided them down, nothing pointing them in the right direction. Yet Alex and Evelyn both chose the same path every time.
If Eden had deserts, they were not located anywhere near the lush landscape they walked over. Forests sprang up tall and endless, the tree varieties both known and unknown. The same with certain flowers and plants.
He saw nothing whatsoever resembling a structure; no houses, no buildings, no streets. Just miles and miles of untouched beauty. A primal part of him wanted to explore caves nestled into the side of a high ravine and when he spotted a far silhouette of mountains, he was intrigued.
Mountains, in Eden? He hadn't expected that. There were no pesky bugs to bother him, either. No gnat swarms—even near chuckling creeks—and no bees on the flowers. On closer inspection, he found no ants, pill bugs or any other kind of insect either in the grass or on low boulders they passed.
Curious.
There were birds though. Thousands of them. And rabbits. Hawks. Deer.
Four hours into their hike on the first day, Rhett asked, “Just how big is Eden, anyway?”
Dracht, who walked at Alexandra's flank, glanced over at the question. Dragar kept walking.
Evelyn, who seemed right at home, picked her way around a clutch of tiny flowers.
“I couldn't tell you the exact land mass. There's eight large mountain ranges--”
“What? Eight?” Rhett interrupted her. He looked at the distant range. Eight more like that? The scope of it startled him. He'd expected twenty, maybe fifty acres of land total.
“Yes. It has to be big. When the next armageddon hits, which will not be reversible according to Ashrael, this is the sanctuary the survivors will flock to,” she said.
“Why, because the world will be too unlivable?” Dracht asked.
“What we saw out there is probably just the beginning of the destruction that will happen if all the Seals are broken,” Evelyn replied.
Alexandra stopped near a low, rocky outcropping with water meandering over the stone. Cupping a hand, she took a long drink.
Rhett stepped over to have one as well. The water tasted fresher than any he'd ever had. Anywhere. Not a man big on artificial beverages anyway, he thought he could happily drink just this for the rest of his life.
The others stopped as well, before moving on.
“So what will happen? The people will just magically be herded through the Gate?” Rhett asked.
“I don't know how, exactly. I just know this was the ultimate plan for starting over. Do you doubt it?” Evelyn asked, an arch in her brow.
For the first time in a long time, Rhett laughed. A quiet rumble that didn't travel far. “No. Not after everything else. How much farther is it?”
Evelyn glanced ahead. To the left, a deep valley cut a swath through the landscape. A waterfall tumbled from a high edge down to a turquoise pool below. To the right, craggy outcroppings were interspersed with healthy looking plants and broad swatches of grass.
“About an hour,” she said.
An hour until his life changed forever.
†
“It's going to take a long time to rebuild.” Dracht palmed the round end of a rock at the outcropping on his way by.
Alexandra, more relaxed now that they were deeper into Eden, looked askance at the Templar. She knew without asking what he meant. “Some cities are more intact than others, but yes. It will still take a long time. Do you know where you'll want to live when we get back there?”
Dracht arched a brow. “Doesn't that depend on where you and Evelyn choose to stay? I'm sure your home in Pacific Palisades is gone or damaged beyond repair.”
Los Angeles was not a viable option for residency.
Alex turned her mind from the things they'd lost in the home. Much of the most intimate, precious things had been stored in safe boxes in other places, though whether those banks or other locations had come through somewhat unscathed remained to be seen. The girls had learned early on not to keep all their eggs in one basket.
Still. There were photos and other memorabilia she would have liked to salvage.
Picking her way up a gentle incline, she shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “Maybe one of the Templar Strongholds.”
In periphery, she saw Dracht snap a look at her.
“You'd want to live in one of the strongholds?” he asked, sounding bemused.
“Sure. Why not? The ones I've seen appeal to me.
They have an old, ancient feel to them and they're already built with security measures in place. If any are still standing, that is.” Her lips thinned when she considered whether the one in Greece had been damaged in quakes or volcano fallout. Bombs.
“What do you think your sister would say to that?”
Alex glanced surreptitiously at her sister. “I think she'd like it. As long as Rhett's there, she'll be happy anywhere.”
Silence brought Alexandra's gaze back to Dracht. He'd stopped walking and was staring at her.
“What?” Images of their kiss in the bathroom on the plane flickered through her mind. Neither one had said anything about it. There hadn't been time. But she hadn't forgotten.
“What about you, Alexandra? The idea of the stronghold appeals because it's secure and it's unique. But will you be happy there, too?” he asked.
The question seemed to have unusual weight. Alexandra did not mistake his seriousness, the gleam in his dark eyes.
She knew what he was asking, even if he hadn't said the words exactly. Instead of answer him, she walked over, took his hand, and led him forward. Disappointment flashed across his features before neutrality took over once more. Alex felt a little guilty for making him wait.
But only a little.
†
Late afternoon sunlight shone down on the orchard, casting a golden glow over the trees. They were not lined up in rows, like normal orchards, but spread out in what seemed a haphazard pattern. The acreage panned out before them, framed in on the left by a low cliff; to the right, rolling hills dotted with patches of forest.
Each of the trees in the orchard stood five times as tall and broad as most fruit trees, their leaves fatter and thicker. Some of the fruit dangling from the limbs would not be recognizable to the Templars. Evelyn and Alexandra were very familiar with all of them.
Evelyn, with Rhett at her flank, led him around several impressive specimens. Alex had Dracht by the hand and was doing the same while Dragar brought up the rear.
They came to a small clearing within the orchard itself. An enormous apple tree dominated the center, branches fanning at least fifty feet across. Dark and glossy, the leaves were as wide as a man's palm. Shiny red apples grew in abundance, each perfect and unspoiled.
Rhett stared up at the tree with a complex look on his face. Evelyn watched him instead of the tree; she'd seen it hundreds of times. When he made eye contact with her, then stepped forward and reached for one of the apples, she caught his wrist.
Perplexed, he arched a brow at her.
Evelyn laced her fingers through his and led him around the apple tree. Fifteen yards behind it sat another, not quite as broad or as tall, but still majestic. Even more beautiful than the apple tree with its half green-half golden leaves. This was a tree meant for masterpiece oil paintings and the decadence of dreams.
There were no apples on its limbs, but pears. Green, with a smell that made her mouth water from five feet away. An undeniable beauty lurked in the shape and the stature of this tree, the colors vibrant and stunning.
Rhett glanced behind them; then forward. Bemused, or so suggested his expression.
“But I thought--”
“No. This is the Tree of Life.” Evelyn picked one of the pears off and handed it to him.
Beside them, Dracht and Dragar did the same.
“I'll be damned,” Dracht said.
“Wouldn't have seen that coming a mile away,” Dragar added.
Evelyn stepped back with Alex and eyed the three Templars. They somehow seemed to fit there in front of the spectacular tree. Rugged, disheveled with their whiskers unshaven and warrior like statures. Even without the armor, there could be no mistaking their prowess, their strength.
The three Knights examined the fruit, taking their time, before glancing at each other.
Evelyn couldn't be sure what passed between them, but something did. Maybe thoughts of Christian. Or the future. The past. Their victories and their failures. She wondered if they were having second thoughts.
Immortality came with responsibility, and not without personal cost. Their lives would never be the same after this. Bound to their covenant, they would be tethered to the fate of the daughters of Eve and the Book of Seals.
She heard Alexandra draw in an expectant breath.
Evelyn held hers, too.
As one, the Knights brought up the fruit and snapped bites out of the skin.
Alexandra whooped and charged a laughing Dracht who caught her around the waist with one arm.
“Yes, I'll be happy at the stronghold,” Alex said to Dracht, dragging a hand through his hair. “Happy anywhere you are.”
“A good thing, because now you're stuck with me.” He held up the bitten pear, rolled out a gruff laugh, and swung her in a carefree circle.
Rhett cut Evelyn a devil-may-care grin and stalked her while he chewed. When he took her mouth for a kiss, he tasted like pears. In his eyes were promises and declarations.
“You need a shave,” she scolded him, arms around his neck.
“I'll shave if you promise to keep your eyes open when you shoot,” he retorted.
She laughed.
And all was right with the world.
The End
. . .
A note from the author-
Thank you for reading the Daughters of Eve series. I hope you enjoyed
reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you would like to leave
a review, please know that I appreciate all reviews greatly.
All the best,
Danielle
Other works by Danielle Bourdon:
Romantic Suspense Series
The Latvala Royals
Heir Untamed
King and Kingdom
Heir in Exile
King Takes a Bride
Wrath of the King
The Society Series
The Society of the Nines
Violin Song
Vengeance for the Dead
Young Adult Fantasy Series
The Fates
The Fate of Destiny
The Fate of Chaos
The Reign of Mayhem
A Crisis of Fate
Visit the author's website: www.daniellebourdon.com
Excerpt from Society of the Nines – Thriller/Suspense:
Chapter One
If society wasn't filled with liars, deceivers and betrayers, Mahayla thought, I'd be out of a job. She stared at the stack of files on her desk, all consisting of just-completed projects. Most of them were cases of cheating spouses which required her to spend time snapping photos of clandestine rendezvous and collecting evidence for her clients to use in court. One or two were genealogy related—not her specialty—and still another was a business owner who suspected a rival was using underhanded methods to drive customers away.
She'd solved them all, even the genealogy cases, in record time. No new cases sat in the 'In' basket. Private Investigation work had slowed down as the troubled economy struggled to get back on its feet. There was little she could do to drive more customers through the door besides wait patiently and hope the ad in the yellow pages attracted some attention.
Maybe I should redecorate the office.
Mahayla glanced at the plush chairs on the other side of her desk, then the bookcases lining the walls, and finally the stylish divan and wingback in the designated 'waiting area'. The small, rectangular space got all its character from eclectic bits of architecture around the windows, molding on the walls, and the cream-burgundy-black décor that gave it a chic, vintage feel. Situated on the second floor above a book shop on La Palma Drive, it was perfect for her needs and really, if she was honest, didn't need a lick of updating at all.
It needed customers.
She needed customers. Mahayla didn't like to be idle.
Leaning over, she plucked the photograph of her father, her mother, and herself off the desk. She'd acquired her mother's dark hair, blue eyes, and five-eight hei
ght. From her father, the CIA agent who had inspired her to become what she was, Mahayla had inherited a love of mystery, thrills and the need to find answers to questions. A recommendation (and string pulling) from her father right out of high school landed her a job at the CIA, a job she left five years later to open her own business. The reasons for her departure were complicated and personal, reasons her father never understood, much less supported.
Four years on, she didn't regret her choice. Private investigation wasn't as intense or thrilling, sacrifices she was willing to make to keep her morality intact.
All she regretted was that she didn't have a challenging case to sink her teeth into.
Fate must have been listening in; a timid knock—taptaptap—came at the door.
Mahayla set the picture down. “Come in.”
At first, nothing happened. No one entered. Just as she stood up, the handle twisted and a woman stepped in.
Right away, Mahayla noticed three things: the wig, the fear and the weapon. Blonde, five-two, medium height and weight, the woman closed the door but hovered near it as if she thought she might have to suddenly flee. She also clutched a can of mace in a tight fist, skin white over the knuckles. Her clothes were the kind that allowed her to blend in with any crowd: whitewashed jeans, a mint green cardigan and new tennis shoes of an indiscriminate make.
A pair of gray shaded sunglasses hid the woman's eyes from view.
“Can I help you?” Mahayla asked. She had the distinct impression the lady was about to bolt. Interesting.
“Y...yes. I mean, maybe. How much for a...consultation?”
“The consultation is free, ma'am. Would you like to sit down? I have coffee here and a few cold drinks.” Speaking smooth and slow, Mahayla gestured toward one of the chairs opposite her desk.
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