by Kali Willows
“Any theories so far?” Arawn dug deeper. “The humans seem fine.” Sarka plunked herself into the office chair and intertwined her fingers. “But there are flooding and air system malfunctions on the second floor, the lighting down here has been flickering, and some of our para guests have reported nausea.”
“Food poisoning?” Kane debated.
“No, those who have complained had different menu items.” Sage joined her sister. “There is something dark on the island, but none of us can hone in on it.”
“The humans are protected, unaffected by all that has transpired, am I correct?” Arawn pondered out loud.
“Yes.” Rekkus raked his fingers through his hair. “For now, but if it does begin to affect them, she’s off the island.”
“Just because you can’t see magical creatures doesn’t mean they’re not there,” Arawn offered.
“What kind of creatures do you think they are?” Sage tipped her chin up. “The island is protected. We have every provision in place.”
“We thought the same thing before the sirens invaded, too, but every defense could potentially have a weakness,” he cautioned the group. “Those desperate enough to get in will do their very best to find a way. Take it from someone who knows. When malevolent beings have an agenda, they always find a way.”
“So far, this seems to affect mostly Trinity. Maybe she has lost her mind?” Sarka offered coolly.
“No, she hasn’t,” Kane growled.
“Easy, big guy.” Cemil held his palms up to tame the beast. “This is just a brainstorm right now. We need to weigh all the possibilities.”
Arawn tapped his chin in deliberation. “Sarka, is there any way to dull Trinity’s senses for the time being?”
“She has the enchanted glasses, but they haven’t helped.” She shrugged.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but those dull her visual perceptions, right?” he disputed.
“You’re right,” Cemil’s voice livened up. “She’s part empath, so she feels everything on all levels.”
“What do you propose?” Cyrus lifted a single brow.
“I’m not sure, but the pain she was in at the cabin was surreal, brutal.” He shook his head as if to dispel the experience. “Kane, Arawn, has there been a time since you’ve been with her, she’s been at complete peace?”
“You mean outside of the herbal roofie Sage gave her last night?” Kane pressed his lips tight and narrowed his eyes.
“Yes,” Cemil retorted.
“The hot springs.” Arawn’s hopes lifted. “The moment Serena had her submerged in the water, she said she couldn’t feel anything. She giggled with relief.”
“Well, we can’t keep her submerged in water the rest of the week. She’s not a mermaid.” Cemil frowned, then his eyes lit up. “This may be a shot in the dark, but Sarka, can you fashion a talisman to carry spring water in it?”
“If this is a cloaked being, and with this caliber, there may be more than one, I would bet it’s a psychic attack. The water neutralizes negative energy for her, but she needs more than one element. If I fashion a talisman for her out of black tourmaline, perhaps a mini vial with water in it, it can protect her from negative energy, even spells and curses. She can’t take it off at all, though, and I can’t guarantee how long it will last because we don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
Sage sat on the edge of her chair. “We can amp up the power with some herbs, too. Mugwort can protect against astral attack, since no one can see anything. Acacia is good for psychic attack; black thorn can reverse a spell.”
“Okay, you two, work together on the talisman. Cemil, once she’s got the protection in place, what other vulnerabilities does she have?” Cyrus inquired.
Cemil straightened his back, determination filling his features. “Unresolved grief.”
A knock sounded at the door. Sage pulled the door open a crack, and whispered. Then she let in the tall, silver-haired fae.
“Trixie, you were fast,” Sage remarked.
Is this a good sign or not?
The fae entered the room and frowned. “Only because parts of her memory has been completely erased.” She closed the door behind her.
“Where is Trinity?” Kane’s nostrils flared.
Trixie held up her right hand. “Serena’s still with her. She’s helping her balance her emotions in the springs. Two security guys stayed at the water’s edge to keep an eye on them.”
“What have you learned?” Cyrus’s voice lowered.
“Someone has seriously messed with her. I regressed her to last night, and even in her subconscious, she has no memory of a two hour span. Dark shadows surrounding her in the dinner hall were the only things she could recall before her head started to hurt.”
“She was pretty out of it,” Kane concurred.
“Did anything happen in the hall?” Trixie probed further.
“She told us about her uncle, her parents, and that she’s a mixed-breed,” Arawn listed as he recalled the events. “She read a little about each of us. She picked up on wings and stone from Kane here, and war and revenge with conflicted nature, and the hounds of hell from me.” He rubbed his chest with discomfort.
“But none of those things set her off,” Kane disputed. Then his eyes widened. “She got pretty feisty when she read some women’s thoughts. Three attractive women together. Redhead, brunette, and a blonde.”
“The sisters.” Rekkus nodded.
“What thoughts did she pick up on?” Cemil asked.
“She didn’t specify, but she said they made her blood boil, and she saw the faces they hid. She would have scrapped with all three of them.” Arawn set his hands on his hips. “I distracted her. I should have asked,” he grumbled.
“You kept the peace. Nothing about the shape she was in seemed logical.” Kane patted his shoulder. “And the women didn’t do anything specific, or at least anything we noticed. They sat at dinner. Then we took her back to the villa.”
“There’s more, I’m afraid.” The tall, slender fae knitted her brows. “The death of her uncle…she was there but has absolutely no memory of the death, the night, or the day after.”
Kane crossed his arms. “Isn’t that normal with trauma?”
“On a conscious level, yes, but there should be a subconscious recall of some sort.”
“But I saw the images,” Cemil disputed.
“When?” Arawn twisted to face him.
“The last time we met at her office in New York. I picked up on graphic details, brutal images.” Cemil shuddered.
“How did he die?” Kane whispered.
“I didn’t see his death, but it was slow, vicious, and painful. I saw the aftermath which haunts her.”
“I read the same with her mother’s ring for her parents’ deaths,” Cyrus concurred.
“Look, I can’t explain it,” Trixie said. “But it’s as though she was traumatized by these brutal deaths, and then someone erased the memories completely but left the damage in its wake.”
Cemil cupped his chin. “I’ll have to take her to the Elysian Fields. She needs at least some closure to resolve her grief.”
“Not until after we make the talisman,” Sarka spoke up.
“And after some food and another night of sleep. She’s exhausted on every level, physically, mentally and emotionally,” Cemil finished.
“So, her treatment and protection is sorted out.” Cyrus stared him down. “Kane, you continue to sit watch while she sleeps. Arawn, take turns on watch.”
“You got it, boss.” Arawn’s eagerness to get back to their banshee and see for himself she was okay overpowered him.
“There’s one piece of the puzzle missing that really bothers me.” Rekkus locked gazes with Cyrus. He stepped closer to him.
“I didn’t think we had enough pieces to form a puzzle,” Sarka sneered. Rekkus glared at her, and she straightened her posture. “What’s missing?”
&nb
sp; “If someone wants to hurt her, we won’t find out whom until we figure out why.”
“How do you propose we do that?” Cemil tilted his head.
“I haven’t figured it out yet, but I will.” Rekkus curled his lip.
“She did mention one thing that seemed odd. She didn’t have much information, though,” Kane spoke up.
“Go on?” Rekkus nodded.
“She said her uncle took her and fled Ireland after her parents died, and he refused to raise her among her race.”
“Did she say why?” Cyrus’s eyes widened.
“Not much, but she said he felt the sovereign of the banshee is corrupt. From the way she described her childhood, they moved around a lot, and he was pretty anxious about it.”
Chapter Seven
Trinity tossed and turned. As tired as she felt, she couldn’t sleep any longer. She threw the covers off and stared at the large round bamboo blades of the ceiling fan. The soft whoosh as it slowly spun did little to lull her restlessness. She gazed aimlessly at the dancing shadows from the blades against the plaster swirls of the butter cream ceiling.
“You okay?” Kane approached the bed, a mug in hand.
“Yeah, I know Trixie told me to sleep, but I’m not tired anymore.” She propped up against the hard wood of the headboard. “Is this for me?” She licked her dry lips with anticipation.
“Sure is.” He handed it to her. “I just got up, myself. I debated brewing some coffee but went with this instead.”
“What is it?” She drew in a long whiff of aromatic sweetness.
“Tea.” Kane sat on the bed beside her.
“Tea?” Apprehension rolled over her. “On second thought….” She handed the mug back.
Kane accepted it with a knowing grin. “It’s not one of Sage’s zany concoctions. It’s chamomile I found in the cupboard. See?” He sipped from the cup and let out a low moan of enjoyment. The noise sparked her intrigue…not for tea, but how he would moan with a different kind of pleasure.
Kane held the cup for her to taste.
“Thank you.” She placed her lips on the edge and sipped a little. “Mmm, it’s sweet,” she cooed.
“I put a little honey in it.”
“What time is it?” She glanced around. The bright sunny view she had fallen asleep to earlier had darkened.
“Almost dinnertime.” He set the cup on the bedside table. “I hate to say it—”
“I know. Rekkus will have a conniption if we aren’t on time for dinner.” She stretched her neck from side to side.
“How’s our princess?” Arawn strolled to the other side of the bed and plopped down beside her.
“Much better, thanks.” She smoothed her hair back with relief. “I can’t believe what a pain in the rump I’ve been. I spoiled your whole week with this nonsense.”
“Are you kidding us?” Kane chuckled. “We’ve been skinny dipping, seen you cut loose, and best of all, we got out of getting our asses kicked by Rekkus ten hours a day.”
“You got that right, brother!” Arawn held a fist across for Kane to knuckle bump with him. “Training is brutal. We’re much happier here with you.” He winked.
Trinity studied his luscious lips curved into a fantastic smile. With an angular jaw and the black ink peeking out of the sleeves and collar of his shirt, his jet-black hair and deep, dark eyes, Arawn was stunning. She glanced to find Kane’s adoring gaze light up his incredible green eyes. These men were spectacular, protective, and devoted to her, at least for the week.
“I want to ask you both something, and please”—she glanced between them—“be honest with me.”
“Of course,” they replied in unison.
She sucked in a long, shaky breath. “Did I do or say anything I should be terribly embarrassed about last night at dinner, or after?”
“You don’t remember.” Kane’s smile faded. “You were a delight.”
“Really?” She glared at him in disbelief.
“Truthfully, you were less uptight, overall. You were fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“What did I talk about?” She had been heavily sedated with herbs and worried her blabbermouth ways had gotten the best of her, which was why she didn’t drink in the mundane world often.
“Not much.” Kane fixed his gaze on the cup of tea.
“You promised to be honest with me,” she grumbled.
“Look, you may have mentioned a little about your parents and your uncle,” Arawn confessed. “But it wasn’t bad at all.”
“Oh.” She slouched her shoulders.
“You did mention a few things about us that took me by surprise.” Arawn folded his arms across his rippling chest. His biceps bulged.
“Such as?”
“You told Kane here you saw stone and wings.”
“Arawn,” Kane growled and bared his teeth.
“Don’t sweat it, buddy.” He shook his head. “I think it’s okay.” He waited while she searched her brain for any recollection.
“That’s right. And a heart of stone?”
“Yeah, and with me?” he prompted.
“Hmm….” She squinted hard as she thought. “Oh, yes. She opened her eyes and stared at him. You’re conflicted with your good nature, war, and revenge…and hounds with red ears?”
“How do you see those things?” Kane’s voice became a soft murmur. “Are you clairvoyant?” He tucked his chin to his chest and avoided eye contact.
“Not exactly, but I get flashes of thoughts sometimes. My talents have been way off-kilter for months. Now, I can’t turn it on when I want, or more so recently, shut it off.” She paused and reflected on the pieces she did recall. “What did those things mean?”
“The stone and wings?” Kane shrugged.
“Or the conflict and war?” Arawn held his palms up with confusion.
“All of it?”
The two friends gawked at one another for a long moment. Frustration festered deep inside her. “Hey,” she snapped. “I poured out my guts to you two last night, and not of my volition. Things I’ve never told another living soul. You owe me the truth. Now spill it, both of you.”
“It should be pretty easy to figure out.” Kane pursed his lips. “Heart of stone, wings, total carnivore and I guard at night on top of the roof….”
The pieces slipped together in perfect harmony. “You’re a gargoyle?”
“I am.” He grimaced and turned his head to the side.
“Look at me, Kane?” She cupped his chin and prompted him to meet her gaze. His eyes held the darkness of profound shame. “You’re wonderful.”
“You don’t think gargoyles are grotesque?” His surprise stunned her.
“I’d never met one in person before now. How could I find someone who’s stuck by my side to protect me grotesque?”
“Maybe not in this form.” He grasped her hand and removed it from his chin.
“If you doubt me, then show me and I’ll prove you wrong.”
“You want me to change into a gargoyle?” He choked.
“Yes.”
“No….” He shook his head. “Never in front of you.”
“Why not?”
“Because, it would scare you, and I don’t ever want you to be scared of me, I couldn’t bear it.”
Arawn cleared his throat. “Once, a long time ago, a woman he saved screamed bloody murder and ran away from him. She called him a demon.”
Kane snarled at Arawn. “Traitor.”
“She needs to know why it’s such an issue. Seemed like a pretty good time since we’ve shared all our secrets.” He shrugged.
“Someone you saved reacted in fear…let me guess, a mundane?” Trinity needed to dissect this deep-seated indignity he tried to avoid.
“She was.” He dipped his chin.
“Humans are raised with fairytales and fables of us all.” She pointed to her white locks and motioned to her pale features and bright b
lue eyes. “They view us as monsters, not because it’s true, but due to the limitations of knowledge they have. I don’t imagine many mundanes would react any differently.”
“No, I would guess not,” he concurred.
“But”—she inched a little closer and set her fingers under his chin again to meet her gaze—“for the record, you are a very handsome guy.” The apex between her thighs warmed with her confession.
Kane picked up her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles. “You’re pretty damn amazing yourself.”
“Your turn.” She leered at Arawn. “Conflicted, kind, but war torn and revenge driven?”
“Your friendly neighborhood Lord of the Underworld at your service, ma’am.” He flashed a forced grin. “Or at least, I’m next in line for the throne.”
“Arawn?” The name sounded vaguely familiar, but couldn’t place it. Her time in the mundane world had dulled her knowledge of para history.
“Junior. My father is the original Arawn of Annwn.”
“You’re immortal?”
“I am.” He rubbed his thighs and avoided her gaze.
“Why are you here?” She frowned.
“I…abdicated my claim to the throne.” He rolled his shoulders.
“Go on, the rest of it?” she demanded. “What are you hiding behind those tattoos? Let me see.”
Arawn grimaced. “I don’t…take my shirt off.”
“Now.”
Arawn pulled the edges of his black T-shirt out of the waist of his pants and inched it up his muscular torso and over his head. Trinity finally got her close-up and undistorted view of the tribal tattoos adorning his body from waist to neck and across his biceps. Black ink decorated this decadent canvas of muscle. She traced her fingers over the design from his collar down to the front of his chest. The pads of her fingers grazed over a raised, rough patch of skin. The tattoos camouflaged a jagged nine-or-so inch scar from his sternum to his shoulder.
“What happened to you?”
Arawn pressed his lips tight.
“He freed me from his father’s prison, along with many other souls. Arawn senior had a bit of a temper. He liked to sic his hounds of hell on those who defied him. It’s now referred to as the Battle of Annwn.”