Maybe this was a part of death, remembering your entire existence. Though I never saw the memories that were racing through my mind in the North Wing, I knew they were real. My mind was starting to remember the very end, and I was trying to block it. I knew I would not be able to withstand it. Guardian’s girl was left in my care. Apparently, I failed my charge.
“I was the one that lost her. Is this war you two are fighting because of that?”
She stared at me for a seemingly endless moment. I had no idea what she was trying to figure out, but I was sick of her and Phoenix treating me like some wounded animal that was not of sound mind.
“This war is not your fault, and it’s not over a girl. It’s a battle of darkness and light that I cannot begin to explain to you right now. We have one sole focus: to save your life.”
“Life or no life, Rasure is going down. I have no issue with being vengeful or whatever else you and Phoenix keep warning me about. I will not convince or beg anyone to save my life. I will haunt that woman across time and space. I will exact vengeance for my family.”
“You’re right. You could haunt her. I doubt that a woman that has lived as long as she has, a woman that breeds evil, would really care that one spirit is knocking things over and tormenting her. You would be like a fly that refused to land long enough for it to be swat. Now, if you were a phoenix, you would breathe. Your family would see you, the world would see you, no one would know that you died and were reborn again. You could end her, destroy the empire she has built and so much more in that form.”
“Is that what the two of you were arguing about? You want him to turn me or something?”
“I want him to save you,” she corrected.
“So what is his problem with that?”
“My guess—that you would be at his side for all of eternity.”
I felt sick, really sick, like someone had sucked all the life out of me and set my body on fire.
“Well, you know what?” I said once I caught my breath. “I don’t want to be strapped to anyone either—not someone that doesn’t want me, that’s for sure.”
Her stare was rife with sympathy. “He’s eternally committed to you…”
I don’t know why, but her words gave me a sense of life once again. “You’re making no sense to me.”
“He is deep in this war. He knows he’s about to walk through hell. Not once, but a million times over. He doesn’t want you at his side when he does that. He wants to keep you safe, in death.”
I knew from the look in her eye that she was one hundred percent serious, but I had no idea what war they were in—I had my own to wage. I clenched the key in my fist, prepared to find every lock in this manor and turn it.
“I can call in a few favors, tell the circle we run with that Phoenix is doing something lethal. I know I’m pushing you away, but you’re a big girl now and you do not need me to be your voice. He will not be able to deny your request. That is, if it’s genuine.”
I glanced back at Mason’s sleeping body, then to her. “I’m not afraid to ask for help, but I’m most definitely not afraid to fight on my own. I unraveled something hours before my death. I’m not clear on what that was, but I plan to figure it out.”
I walked past her and up my stone stairs, but when I pushed the bookcase back I didn’t find my room.
Chapter Nine
There was a fire crackling in the massive fireplace on the center wall, reflecting its light on the endless bookshelves contained within the room. The lounging furniture was arranged comfortably around the fire, and the Oriental rugs were spread across the floor.
This was the library on the first floor of the manor, the one that was three stories high, a room I was rarely in. It had too many memories—not of my family, but of a past I’d yearned for on a daily basis for years. Most of the items in this room, with my touch, would extend the life I’d witnessed in the North Wing.
I was worried about this fog of death I had been accused of being in because the ancient memories now had both Mason and Gavin mingled within them, along with Gran, Phoenix, and other faces I wanted to remember more clearly but refused to give into. I had to stay focused, stay resolute in the task of destroying Rasure.
My brother Ben was sitting on the couch before the fire, leaning forward and swirling a short glass of whisky. He’d aged. He was in his early forties, but right now he looked closer to fifty.
I crept closer to him, wanting so badly to touch him, to tell him I was okay. As I approached, he didn’t move, but he did glance down at the coffee table in front of him. “Indie…you won…I wish I could tell you that…I wish you would tell me if I need to fight to hold on to you, or let you rest in peace.” His voice was carrying a quiver that I’d never heard before.
I looked down at the papers in front of him, and through all the legal mumbo jumbo I gathered that not only had I won my inheritance, but that I was set to receive it earlier than my birthday.
On his tablet, I could see that he was drawing up a draft to stop Rasure from pulling the plug on me. I knew that look in his eye. He was trying to figure out if that was something he was doing out of spite or because it was right.
I reached for his tablet. My emotions should have frozen it solid, but instead I felt warmth in my hands. I touched the email icon, wanting to type a message to him, but when I opened it I saw the email I sent him telling him that I had taken the clocks to Mrs. Cambridge’s charity, told Rasure, then watched her send people to retrieve them.
Reading my own words caused memories of my last living day to flood my mind.
I’d sent that email the moment I saw that truck load her things up. I guess the fog of my death had erased that memory, but Mason had brought it back a moment or two ago. In the email, I’d described the truck, the men, told him exactly when it happened.
I opened the email on his tablet and pushed it forward on the table. The force I used should have thrown it across the room, but it only made it fall to the floor. It took Ben a second to even notice it had fallen. Finally, he picked it up and read my words. I watched his skin turn red with rage. He pulled out his cell phone and made a call. “Dianne,” that was his assistant, “I want a copy of the police reports from Indie’s accident. I need a description of the vehicle that was seen running them off the road.” He stood, gathering his things. “And file the appeal immediately. Tell the judge that if he pulls that plug, he will have every Falcon child to answer to, not just one old woman.”
As he took his things and left the library, he listened to what she had to say and gave orders as to what needed to be done and how.
I smirked. Maybe I could haunt Rasure in her prison cell. If Ben figured out she had anything to do with my accident, even had the thought of bringing harm to me, he would not rest until she was six feet under the nearest jail.
I glanced around the library. Those clocks, three grandfather clocks, and one small one that sat on the mantle all came from this room. The grandfather clocks sat in the center of each wall, the small one on the mantle above the fireplace. None of them were working, and they were all sitting right back where they belonged.
I gripped the key in my hand and headed for the one on the east wall. I touched every part of it, looking for some hidden door, some place to put this key. I searched inside and out but found nothing. I wished Mason had told me which one the key had fallen out of. With a grunt, I moved to the one on the north wall, finding it the same, identical to the other.
After a fruitless search, I stood and prepared to cross the room to the small one on the mantel. Just as I passed the double doors that led out of this room, one of them opened. Rasure.
She was dressed all in black, which enhanced the blazing red hair that was only slightly highlighted with gray. I’m sure she was trying to mock-up her grief with her attire.
Unlike Ben, who could not see me, she looked right at me. “Genevieve, dear, what on Earth are you doing up at this hour?”
I found it odd that she d
idn’t cross the threshold, that she didn’t walk up to me with her familiar demeaning dominance.
“Dead people don’t sleep.”
She smiled slightly. “Have you had another night terror? Come, child. I’ll walk you to your room.”
“Go to hell. Why are the clocks back?”
“They never left. Why would they? They belong to this family.”
“You know they left. You know I gave them away to spite you. What’s wrong, Rasure? Are you missing something? Did something fall out of the clocks when they were moved?”
Her smile fell, and evil filled her dark eyes. “You’re confused, dear. You must have fallen off your wagon. The devil’s drink will cloud anyone’s judgment, especially someone as petite as you who often forgets to eat.”
“I’m going to freeze you—into a solid block of ice. Then I’m going to shatter you into a billion pieces, burn what’s left of you. Then I’m going to move on and destroy the kingdom you have built under my family name.”
“Awful bold words. Are you brave enough to say them standing before me?”
Right as I stepped forward, Phoenix appeared in front of me.
I’d never seen shock in Rasure’s expression, so I enjoyed watching her evil eyes expand, even if it was only for a second.
I wasn’t going to let him shield me, so I came to his side. He held out his arm. It wasn’t a request that I stay—it was a demand.
“I see,” Rasure said with a cool smile. “You have added another notch to your bed post. A fiery one at that.”
I could feel the rage and jealousy radiating off of Phoenix as he pulled his shoulders back and glared at Rasure.
“Well, now, this changes everything, doesn’t it, Genevieve?” Rasure said in her fake ‘I’m-too-rich-to-say-what-I-really-mean’ tone.
“It changes nothing. I still hate you with every ounce of my soul. I will still end you,” I seethed.
“I’m afraid the water that took your life also took the tools you would need to do such a thing…it’s a shame, though. I have grown gracious over the last century. Normally, I set a soul or two free each year. Shame.”
A glance from Phoenix slammed the door in her face and caused the old-fashioned lock that was a wooden plank to fall into place.
“What did she mean by that?” I asked, daring to look up at him. His stare was full of emotion, both grief and jealousy fighting to take control.
“She meant that if you kill her before setting the souls she has captured free that she will be able to come back through them. She means that no ice could kill her.”
“Souls? She really is a demon.”
“Escort.”
“Whatever.”
He smirked as his gray eyes melted over me. The gleam of the fireplace enhanced every flawless feature of his body. I felt my heart begin to beat violently in my chest and the air leave my lungs in a rush.
“What are you thinking right now?” he asked, letting his gaze fall into mine, allowing me to see the flame in the center of the gray.
“I’m trying to figure out how come dead people have heartbeats.”
That caused the allure in his eyes to intensify. “Your heart pounds around me?”
The real me started to surface, the one that was coolheaded, witty, straightforward, the part of me that said what I was thinking when I was thinking it. “You can smell other boys on me, but you cannot hear my heartbeat?”
His smirk turned into a beaming smile, and he glanced away as he tried to hide it. “Some scents you never forget.”
“What decade did I know you in?”
“Do you mean what century, what dimension, what reality…”
“Which one? For how long?” I asked, ignoring how insane his reply was.
Phoenix’s gaze fell to my lips, and I felt a swarm of burning energy wave though me, causing my insides to quiver with anticipation. “Time bends. As far as I’m concerned, you have been mine for an eternity.”
Mine. That one word echoed relief through me.
“This house is only two hundred years old,” I said, trying to reason with myself. Even though in the North Wing I had overheard such things as ‘alternate realities’ and ‘wars of light and dark,’ I always took it as semantics, not truth.
That made him smile, but it was a sad smile. “You remember me in this home?” he asked in a heated whisper.
How could he question that? Did he honestly think that if I didn’t remember him I would react the way I have toward him? I mean, without the memories I’m sure he would have still made my heart flutter, but were my eyes not reflecting the deep, aching emotions swarming in my soul?
I glanced at the Oriental rug before the fire and felt my heart beat out of control. That was one of the many places I had seen him love my image, one of the many memories I could not bear to watch, for they made me long for him.
“Clearly,” I said, letting my gaze rise to meet his.
“I built this home for you,” he said in a whisper. “But…I didn’t build it here, not in this reality. I have no idea how you moved it. What you have done in my absence.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have left, then,” was my honest reply. I admit it. I was bitter that he never returned. Whether it was in this life, this reality or not, he didn’t return. I’d had to take control of this home, and it had been a battle that ripped my soul into shreds each day.
“I left to defend you, our home, our beliefs. That is my only regret. I fight that demon with every breath I take.”
I moved my head from side to side in absolute astonishment.
“What?” he asked, noticing my condescending gaze.
“I don’t understand what you and Skylynn are bickering about, but it sounds to me like you are repeating your past. I’m not going to let you tuck me away again.”
“I’m not repeating anything,” he breathed, trying to hide his shock that I was using my memories to talk to him, that I was speaking to him as if it was this life I knew him in.
“At Guardian’s side, you left. Yes, you left to defend our family. I will give you that much. And yes, then I could not stand at your side because I had to care for our home, for the family we were building of lost souls. You left me well-guarded with a promise that you would return. I don’t know who to blame for this absence, but I know time has changed us both. This war of light and dark that I do not have the strength to understand right now is going to rip us apart again. I want to grieve for our past. I want to feel joy that I have found you. I want to understand who I was and who I have become, but I can’t do that right now. I have to grasp the reality I am in. I have to fight for the last twenty-one years I’ve lived. I’m not dying in peace. I’ll figure out what this key unlocks and set whatever souls she has trapped, including mine, free…and while I do that, you will be off fighting another war…one that is supposed to protect me.”
Pain caused the flames in his eyes to erupt. “Skylynn is feeding you these memories.”
He was so off-base, it wasn’t even funny.
“Do you want to know what clothes you were wearing as you walked away from me? Or do you want me to tell you how we stayed up all night, promising each other that we had no choice but to let you take Guardian to speak to our world, for you to find peace with letting him answer the call in his soul?” I let my words settle before I spoke again. “I have a million more memories fluttering around in my mind, ones that I have vividly witnessed. One touch from you brought me life in death. I’m struggling to hold on to Indie as my mind pulls back into the time I was your Genevieve.”
My words were killing him. He was frozen in place, transfixed.
“I don’t want you to be angry at Skylynn. No matter how she may have crossed you or Guardian, she saved my life. Every day, she saved me, and right now she is struggling to do that again.”
His jaw rippled. “I can’t forgive her for keeping me from you.”
“The only thing standing between me and you right now is our egos. Not Skylynn.�
�
One beat later, his lips were on mine, pulling me into a deep, passionate kiss. His burning kiss traveled across my jawline as my arms looped under his shoulders, pulling his chest closer to me. When his lips reached my ear, he breathed, “I need you to be real.” My nails dug into his back as his hands moved across my body, my chest, my hips, my thighs. “I never left you. You have always been in my veins. You’re my soul,” he whispered with an ache in his voice.
A warm rush of air surrounded me, and the next thing I knew I was lying on the rug in front of the fire. As his lips moved down my neck, his hands urged my shirt up. I let the key I was clenching fall to the floor, daring to give in to him, daring to be his Genevieve once more.
This was the point where I always froze when the others held me, the point where I had to hold everything in, send my mind somewhere else, focus on anything but their touch, the emotions the moment demanded. It was the point where I turned on autopilot and built a wall around my heart and soul. And more times than not, this was the point where I said no, where I stopped myself from going too far. I had to. It was a physical lie, one I could not let my body speak.
I couldn’t force myself to do that now. Even when I told myself that I would freeze him solid if I didn’t—control would not come.
When I felt his hands on my skin, on my chest, I gasped as if it were the first time I’d ever been touched. I fought to pull his shirt off, to feel the fire of his flesh against mine, to feel someone for the first time.
We both sighed as our skin touched. We wanted more. We wanted everything.
I kept telling myself that this was wrong, that in life I didn’t know him, that I wasn’t this kind of girl, but my soul told me I was an idiot, that he was the only one I’d ever really known.
All at once, I realized what all the hype about being skin-to-skin with someone was about. I realized how insanely awesome a seductive touch was.
He couldn’t get close enough to me. We rolled across the floor, both demanding control of this passionate moment, only giving in for a second when one of us found that sweet spot, that touch that made our insides crumble with expectation.
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