by Kali Willows
Kane shook off the internal torment and focused on the meal. The occasional clatter of glasses and cutlery echoed throughout the dining hall, along with the odd scrape of chair legs against the floor as people took their seats for dinner. Every table was filled on both the human and para sides. Low chatter of diners created a gentle hum around them.
“Buddy, it’s not so bad. At least she’s not pissed,” Arawn whispered to him.
“We’ll see,” he mumbled. “There’s always the morning after Sage’s herbal concoction wear off.” With the assignment at hand, there’s a good chance she’ll see the real me before long, and pissed won’t even be in the vicinity of how she’ll feel then. This, I’m sure of.
The server carried over a tray of filled plates and placed a colorful salad in front of Trinity.
“Dig in, boys.” She gripped her fork like a lifesaver then wavered in her seat as she stared at the tip of the prongs with intense fascination. “Pretty.”
“You were saying?” Kane flashed a grin of amusement. His self-pity easily dispersed in light of how at peace she seemed in this moment. The anger which festered in her before had disappeared. Maybe Sage’s herbal efforts weren’t all bad after all.
“For you, gentlemen.” The server placed a thick, bloody steak in front of Kane and veal in front of Arawn.
“Thanks.” Kane picked up his utensils and hacked into the crimson meat.
“Ew, what are you, a vampire?” Trinity scowled at his dinner.
“No, but I am a true carnivore, through and through. What can I say?” He tucked the juicy morsel into his mouth and chewed slowly while he watched her. Maybe subtle hints would soften the blow later….
Trinity lifted her rose-colored glasses and squinted at him with her magnificent blue eyes. “Why do I see stone around you?” She swayed in her seat. “And wings?”
Kane’s stomach bottomed out. He placed his cutlery down and leaned over his plate to whisper. “What do you mean you see stone and wings?” He knew exactly what she meant. What he didn’t know was how she could see it.
“And you!” She pointed her index finger at Arawn. “You seem like a decent guy. Why are you filled with war and revenge? You’re so conflicted with your good nature. And your tattoos…what are you hiding?” She set her glasses back in place.
Kane glanced to Arawn and found his comrade with widened eyes. Arawn’s shock seemed to match his own. This may be a short assignment, after all. He grimaced.
“I want to see those tattoos up close, by the way.” She giggled then continued in a hushed tone. “I peeked, you know.”
“At…?” Kane cracked a one-sided grin. How could this woman terrify and amuse him at the same time?
“Your tattoos, when we were skinny dipping.” She muffled a slight squeal. “I saw his bum!” She pointed to Arawn and slammed her palm on the table again in another short-lived fit of amusement.
“How would you know anything about us?” Arawn maintained his inquisitive stare at the loose-lipped beauty. “Well….” He crinkled his brows. “The tattoos are obvious.”
“Oh….” She whirled her hand in a dismissive wave. “That’s right, you don’t know anything about me…or do you?” She fired a cynical glare, first at him then at Arawn.
“Not much.” Kane motioned air quotations with his fingers. “Client confidentiality. Talk to us.”
This was a chance to delve into why she was here. Her defenses were most certainly down, although shame washed over him at the need to interrogate her in this condition. Man, he couldn’t stop staring at her porcelain features and delectable curves. High cheekbones, full ruby-red lips, and milky mounds that teased the trim of her dipped neckline. She was exquisite, although he preferred her in her more lucid state. What he wouldn’t give to take off those glasses and gaze longer into the depths of her eyes…take off her dress and gaze at what lay hidden under that. A flashback of her trying to hide her plump breasts at the hot springs prompted a mischievous grin. Kane cleared his throat and tried to push his lustful thoughts aside.
“Hey, get your mind out of the gutter, stud muffin!” she scolded him. “And you, too,” she slurred at Arawn.
“I wasn’t—” Kane fibbed.
“Anyway”—she shifted in her chair and straightened her posture—“as fate would have it, I’ve lost my mind.”
“I don’t understand.” Arawn propped his forearms on the table.
“Well, the low-down….” She leaned over and cupped the side of her mouth as she whispered. “I’m not just a banshee like I was led to believe. It would seem I’m a mixed breed, part empath.”
“Is that so?” Arawn prodded.
“Cyrus read my mother’s ring.” She flashed the white gold band on her right hand and continued. “My parents weren’t murdered by humans like I thought. My mother went batty and killed my father and then herself.”
“I’m so sorry.” Kane’s throat grew thick at her herbal-induced confession.
In his years of service to the Para Elite Force and training on the island with Rekkus, Kane had heard tales of how avoidant Cyrus read objects, hence his need to wear his black gloves. Especially objects housing such horrific tragedy. It was difficult to fathom he would even touch her ring.
“That’s not the worst of it,” she hissed. “Her mixed breed drove her insane, and, as of late, it looks like I’m heading down the same path.”
“How so?” Kane hunched his shoulders. Aside from being lambasted by Sage’s herbal concoction, he had a difficult time imagining this intelligent, sexy lady as anything but perfect.
“I forget things all the time, especially these past few weeks. I lose things constantly. I can’t sleep. I have terrible headaches and nightmares, and then there are the waking visions of brutal deaths I can’t seem to shut out anymore.” She shuddered.
“It’s okay.” Arawn reached across the table and set his hand over hers. “You don’t have to share. It sounds too painful.”
“Oh, pish-posh.” She waved her hand and blew out of her pressed lips. “It all happened when I was six. I found out the truth today.” She shook her head. “But then, Sage gave me some tea, and I feel kinda funky now.” Trinity tipped her head side to side with an exaggerated sigh.
Kane and Arawn sat in awkward silence.
I can’t believe such a pure soul as Trinity’s is housing so much tragedy. I don’t sense insanity. Even the presence of mental illness spikes my shoulder blades with potential for danger. I don’t get that with her at all. It doesn’t make any sense. This can’t be right.
“The worst part,” she continued, “was six months ago.” She propped her left elbow on the table beside of her salad and planted her chin in her palm. Her sensual lips curled downward into a frown.
“What happened six months ago?” Kane couldn’t help himself. The need to know infused every atom of his being.
“I cried the tears of blood.”
“Excuse me?” Arawn whispered. “What do you mean?”
With an exuberated exhale, she slouched her shoulders. “When a banshee foresees a death, she wails the banshee cry to let people know to prepare to say good-bye to their loved one.”
“Do all banshees cry blood?” Kane had heard tales of her breed over the last millennia but never a word about this bizarre twist. The more she shared, the more mystery clouded his perception of her.
“No, that’s the whole point. I’ve only ever cried tears of blood once before, with the pending death of my parents. This time….” Her lower lip quivered. “I foresaw the death of my uncle.”
“You did?” Kane’s heart sank.
“Yup. For a brief while, I really thought we would be okay if we lived in the human world.” She sank back into her seat with a pout.
“Because?” Arawn had pushed his dinner to the side and studied her with dark fascination.
“My uncle refused to let me live in Ireland, among the other banshees or otherwise.”
“Why?” Kane cocked his head. Banshee’s come from Ireland. It’s strange not to be raised among your own breed.
“To start with, he was mortal, but my father was a banshee.”
“I thought banshees were only women?”
“It’s true, males are rare in our race, but my father was one. He and my uncle were half-brothers.”
“Why did your uncle refuse to raise you with your race?”
“The little information he shared never seemed to paint the whole picture for me. He said after my parents’ deaths, we fled Ireland for safety and the sovereign of the banshee had become corrupt. He honored my mother’s final wishes and raised me away from the tribe.” She bit her lip and gazed at the table.
“If you couldn’t live among your own, what did you do?” Arawn propped his forearms on the table.
“We moved a great deal, every few years, and traveled the world.”
“To travel so much…sounds exciting,” Arawn prodded.
Trinity pursed her lips. “Not really. Each time we got settled, Uncle Connor would get anxious and pack us up to go. We kept to ourselves mostly.”
“Well, it would be hard on a child,” Kane agreed.
“Once I got older, I went to college, got my degree, set up the perfect mundane life, and the humans seemed to accept me and didn’t ask many questions. They didn’t know my history or lineage. My uncle had grown old and frail. I convinced him to stay with me so I could take care of him.”
“Then what?” Kane pressed for more, cautious not to overwhelm her.
“We had just come home from a nice dinner out. I glanced at him and his aura turned blood red, I blacked out and when I awoke, he wiped my face with a wet cloth, he was white as a ghost.” Trinity wrapped her arms around herself and began to rock back and forth. She fixed her gaze on her plate.
“Did he say anything?” Kane probed.
“He said I screamed so loud, it shattered all the windows in the apartment.” She quieted her voice. “And tears of blood streamed from my eyes. He knew what it had meant, and so did I, even if I couldn’t remember it.”
Kane frowned. The terror she described…. I wish I could erase the pain for her.
“What did he know?” Arawn fished for more detail.
“He knew the exact same thing happened before my parents were murdered. I wailed the banshee cry and tears of blood poured down my face. He knew my cry was for him this time.”
“Why did you want to live in the mundane world?” Kane spoke softly.
“Many paras knew the tale of my tribe. From what Connor said, we are cursed. I wanted to live in a place where no one knew me and I could start over. I wanted to help people heal. I became a psychologist. I lived in New York, had a nice, mundane life with an apartment on Park Avenue, my practice, and everything I worked so hard for.”
“Had?” Kane arched his brows.
“Yeah.” She sighed. “I have nothing left to go back to. My patients are all gone…to be honest, I don’t have any desire left to help anyone anyway. I’m effectively burnt out.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
A prickle of caution surfaced in his shoulder blades. The first awareness of malice and his wings automatically sprouted out of his flesh, as a rule. But this was minor; something was off. He couldn’t detect the direction the hint of dark energy came from, but he sensed the slightest trace of malevolence. Kane drew in a long sniff and glanced about the room as he assessed the risk level. He smelled the different breeds—vampires, shifters of all kinds, and the humans—but none radiated evil. He attuned his enhanced hearing and eavesdropped on the dozens of conversations all happening at once. No mention of Trinity, and no comments to cause alarm.
Suddenly, she steeled her back and lifted her glasses. She narrowed her eyes and scanned the room. Kane followed her baleful stare to find three women sitting together; they glanced at Trinity and held the most bizarre grins.
“What are you hags staring at?” She let out a venomous hiss.
“Whoa there, sweetheart,” Kane hushed her and gripped her flailing hand. “They’re other guests, having dinner at a different table, nothing to concern ourselves with.” The minute trace he sensed came from no direction, not even from the threesome Trinity had turned her attention to.
“Oh really? I see the hideous faces they think they can hide from us all. I can hear their thoughts, and those bitches make my blood boil.” She stood and scowled at them. “You wanna go?” Trinity gritted her teeth and fisted her hand that Kane held tight, her knuckles whitening. “Bring it. I’ll wipe the floor with each of you.”
A pungent aroma of adrenaline wafted up Kane’s nose, the sour scent emanating from Trinity. He was all too familiar with the odor—fear. She felt threatened. I don’t sense a distinct threat. Is she truly losing her mind? Is this what she spoke about minutes ago?
“Princess, look at me.” Arawn stood and rubbed her shoulder. “Tell me what happened to your uncle.”
Trinity fixed her gaze on him. She lowered her glasses again, her hand loosened in Kane’s grasp, and her posture slumped. Kane released his grip, and she plopped back into her seat and shook her head.
The cutting scent suddenly dispersed, and the prickle in his shoulder blades eased. What the hell was that? He studied the room again but found nothing to explain his instinctive reaction to danger.
“I can’t.” Her chin quivered.
He glanced at the table of women. The trio casually talked amongst themselves and sipped their drinks as if nothing had happened seconds ago. Bizarre.
“It’s okay,” he offered in a soothing tone. “You don’t have to.”
“No,” she lamented. “I mean, I can’t. I don’t remember anything about that night.”
Kane couldn’t see clearly through her tinted lenses, but he would bet his life tears threatened to spill down her beautiful face. An urgent need to wrap his arms around her and shield her from sorrow caused a deep ache in his chest, and the conscious decision to refrain from his impulse was almost impossible to adhere to. Their inquisition needed to stop, now. “I’m so sorry for all you’ve been through.”
“I know you are. I can feel it.” Trinity glanced at him with a curious grin. “But I’m amazed that you do…with a heart of stone.”
Kane held his breath in shock.
“And you, too.” She motioned to Arawn. “Why do hounds with red ears hunt you down?”
Chapter Five
The pounding in her head amplified as she battled groggy fatigue. Bright light penetrated her eyelids, and, grabbing a pillow, she hid underneath it. She rolled back and forth, groaning in agony.
“Hey, are you okay, princess?” a raspy voice called out.
Trinity bolted upright, panic racing through her veins. “What the hell?” She grimaced at the sharp pain stabbing her temples. Upon a quick glance around, she found herself in the villa’s king-sized bed and spied hunk number one across the cabin, on the pull-out couch.
A brief thump sounded on the roof over her head then a huge thud outside the door.
“What the hell was that?”
“Oh, Kane’s up now.” Arawn tucked his hands behind his head with a grin.
“Up? From where?” She frantically scanned the room for the ginger.
Arawn pointed to the ceiling. “The rooftop.”
“Excuse me?”
Kane opened the front door and strolled in, stretching his arms out with a yawn.
“Why the hell are you two in my cabin?” She grabbed the sheets and pulled them over her chest. “And on my roof?” Suspicion roared through her aching head, and she glanced down, relieved to find she still wore her summer dress. “Oh Hades, what did I do?”
“It’s okay.” Kane held his palms up in surrender. “Remember, we’re your bunkmates this week?”
She glanced to his side where the hunk with dark eyes lay on the couch. Thankfully, they both were still fully clothed.
“Mind telling me how in Tartarus I got into the bed?” The blur of the evening horrified her. Minor blackouts had become more common than she cared to admit, recently, but this one was a complete blank slate.
“Yeah, Sage went a little overboard on the…relaxation cocktail last night.” Arawn climbed off the couch. He tidied his bedding, folded the pull-out bed, tucked it away and then replaced the cushions. “We brought you back to the cabin and tucked you in. As per your orders, if I do recall correctly.” He flashed a sheepish grin.
Dismay washed over her at the recollection of her words in her euphoric state of intoxication. But only if these two will tuck. Me. In. “Oh, right.” She covered her blazing cheeks with icy palms, desperate to wake up from this humiliating moment.
“If it makes you feel any better….” Arawn’s tone was kind but comical. “I’ve had the same thing happen when I got a charley horse in training a few months back.” He rubbed the back of his thigh and shuddered.
“Time for caffeine, I think.” Kane headed for the kitchen. “Are you a tea or coffee kind of gal?”
Trinity’s pulse raced. How did she manage to get herself into this situation? “Normally, I would say tea, but the way I feel right now, I’ll take coffee intravenously if you’ve got it.” She dropped back onto her pillow as the current bunk arrangements slowly came back to her. Right. Cyrus and Rekkus ordered these two to be her personal bodyguards. So much for a week of relaxation. “When Sage dosed you”—she studied Arawn with narrowed eyes—“did you have a hangover?”
“A little.” He shrugged. “Felt a little drunk in the morning.”
“Is there any aspirin? My head is killing me.” She rubbed at the painful throb in her temples.
“I didn’t get a headache.” He approached her bedside.
“Whoa there, buddy. I don’t have any desire to play doctor.” Although the thought did hold some appeal, she’d never admit it, especially given how much she hurt.
“Let me check your eyes. No funny business, I swear.”
Sensing his genuine concern, she caved. “Fine.”