Icarus; The Kindred (A Paranormal Romance)

by J. S. Chancellor

  "I'm an awful friend, Jess. I should be asking you that."

  These people are the most selfless beings on Earth. "You're just what I need right now, Liv. And from what I hear, you've always been an amazing friend." I, on the other hand, have spent the last ten years avoiding as much close contact with others as I can.

  She smiles that sadly sweet smile again and tearfully gazes back out the window. "I'm a completely unfortunate friend. I should have gone with you that night, when you and Iris left. I had a bad feeling and I never said anything. I thought I was being silly."

  I grab her softly by the shoulder. "What did you just say?"

  She looks at me doe-eyed. "I had this dreadful—"

  "No, the first thing you said."

  "Completely unfortunate?" she says unsurely. "It's kind of a joke. We used to say it all the time."

  "Liv. What's your middle name?"

  "Lora."

  I know she thinks I'm nuts, but I throw my arms around her and I can't stop laughing. I've never been giddy—not in any lifetime I can recall, but damn if I'm not now. "Lora, my college roommate who used that phrase with unbelievable panache, oh my God! Liv—I remember you."

  "But we weren't roommates. I never went to college and I'm fairly sure you were pretty old by the time they came up with the idea."

  Quinn and Nico stand near us now, no doubt curious as to the nature of my sudden outburst after hours of morose silence. "I know, but you have this absurd aversion to French toast and you sleep with your socks on. And you love Eddie Vedder. That was your shirt I wore not too long ago."

  "We were out of town once, you borrowed it and never could remember to give it back to me," Liv sobs. "You really remember me?"

  "Somehow my brain must have held on."

  Quinn sits down across from us. "So it's kind of like the Wizard of Oz, where everyone is someone else?"

  "Your guess is as good as mine. Liv manifested as my college roomie, I saw Jacelynd in my dreams. My dad was a kick-ass cop who—"

  "Taught you some pretty amazing self-defense moves. Maybe a little martial arts. I held a mortal job as a cop for years. It's how we met Liv and Damian. I guess I never could shirk the whole protector part about knighthood." Quinn smiles and suddenly I can't breathe.

  "Jessi, do you realize what this means? Trinity threaded your real past—parts of it—with your donor's memories. Had you been wiped totally, you wouldn't remember any of this." Quinn tries to sound comforting, but this is unnerving. The idea of having my past all come out of someone else's head was difficult enough to comprehend. Having that past hand-picked by Trinity is almost unfathomable.

  "Yeah, but my dad?"

  Quinn smirks. "You think that's too far from reality? It wasn't just Tristan finding out that he had Jacey over there to worry about when courting you, it was me, and Jacelynd nearly got the beating of his life when I found out about the two of you. He was really lucky that I hated Tristan as much as I did. As much as I still do."

  "Were you there when we traveled to his court with Trinity?"

  Quinn tilts his head in question. "You remember that?"

  "No, Jace told me about it. I was just curious."

  "Yes, I was. I accompanied you and Aunt Isabelle because your father couldn't make it. It was something of an uneventful trip."

  "For the rest of you, maybe." Jacelynd has woken up and stands behind Nicodemus and Quinn. His mood is lighter than before, though not by much.

  Quinn groans. "Like I said, you were lucky."

  Jacelynd tiredly laughs. "You were so pissed. We would have gone to blows over it, I think."

  "I was only as pissed as someone with hardly a title can be at a prince. And yes, had you been anyone else, we would have." He pauses before adding, "I think Blake and I were just offended that Jess hadn't told us herself."

  "How did you find out?" I ask.

  Liv laughs and I have a feeling this isn't going to be a straightforward answer.

  Jacelynd almost smiles, "That uneventful trip is when you finally accepted my proposal of marriage. And because of the recent signing of a certain treaty, we had real concern for your parents' safety had it become known. We kept our marriage secret for several months, which is why I wasn't with my family when they were killed. Anyway, before that ill-fated night, Quinn caught us in a rather uh, intimate, setting and it was everything I could do to get him to shut up long enough for me to tell him you were my wife and not some wanton conquest."

  Quinn nods. "Tristan found out Jacelynd's life was spared the same way he found out that he'd lost you. Needless to say, he didn't take it too well."

  Trinity did say I'd called off the engagement for Jacelynd. That was one way of putting it. "Then Trinity wasn't actually there, when your family was … ?"

  Jacelynd says, "No. But he was well aware of it occurring and did nothing to stop it."

  I lay a hand on Liv's shoulder. "We'll talk more about all of this later. This Eddie Vedder thing, it's probably time for an intervention."

  "Where are you going?" Quinn asks. He seems happy to know that my subconscious made him a father figure.

  I look at Jacelynd and sigh, stretching like I'm the one who's sleepy. "I need more sleep. I'm going to go close my eyes. You coming?"

  Jace nods and follows me. He waits until we're seated to speak. "That obvious huh?"

  "Yeah, your eyes are red. Come here." I lift the arm of the seat as I recline and guide him until he is resting against my chest. He curls his arm around my waist and it's no more than thirty seconds before he's asleep again.

  I've never minded flying and I could get used to traveling via private jet. I've only flown a handful of times with Trinity, but it was usually commercial—though our accommodations were a bit on the lavish side. I listen to the lulling sound of the engine and the steady pace of Jace's heart and though I don't mean to, I fall asleep.

  I dream that I'm running from something in the night. I'm dressed in uniform and bleeding from my midsection. That might explain the screaming pain that's radiating from my ribs. For a moment, I think this might be a re-enactment of my rather close encounter with a twelve-gauge, but I can't recall ever running from a target. Even that particular night had me chasing my pursuer like an idiot, if that's even linguistically possible. I never said I did everything right, I just said I never cowered.

  A shrill whirring sound flies past my left ear. Then a second one. Moments later a third one flies past my right ear, but this one clips the skin.

  The grime and sweat of the city is all around us, but—and I gather this must be the dream—there aren't people milling about. See, even if you're sent on a mission that takes place at 3 a.m., there is still life in the city, whether it be bums, hookers, drug dealers or stupid frat kids who've been dropped off on the wrong side of town as a prank by their friends—those guys are always a blast to mess with.

  I take several sharp corners and no longer hear the sound of something behind me. So I stop and take a second to survey my surroundings and find the same old downtown crap you'd find in any major city in America. Minus the superhuman furry creep that just crashed through a department store window and is now right on my ass.

  I swear below my breath and consider briefly trying to wake myself up, but something about the pain I'm feeling leads me to mildly wonder if I am indeed dreaming. What if I was dreaming all that other stuff and this is actually my reality?

  Okay, no time for dream analysis, sweet cheeks, let's go!

  My pep talk works and I turn down an alley. I climb the first couple rungs of a fire escape ladder, but my fingers are slippery from the blood that is dripping down my arms. Down my arms? From what wound?

  Sharp pain that feels so much like what I courted in Hades suddenly ravages my back as I am ripped from the ladder and hit the ground in a breath-taking fall.

  I cough and spit up blood. The creature looms above me, teeth bared, ready to gut me like a fish. Saliva drips onto my chest and face, like something out of
Alien.

  If this is a dream, can't I conjure some otherworldly powers, or at the very least turn this thing into a puppy? Better yet, why can't I access the powers Trinity gave me? Stupid, stupid dream.

  "Nice puppy," I say soothingly.

  Hmmm.

  Huge claws swing down and stab into the pavement just as I roll away—yes I meant to say into the pavement. It takes him a second to jerk them free and go full tilt after me down the alleyway.

  I think I'm making decent headway when one of those whirring sounds I keep hearing finally makes full contact with the back of my knee and I tumble face-first to the ground.

  Damn it!

  I wipe my bloody mouth and pull the silver throwing star out of my leg before struggling back to my feet. I've dealt with this before, why is everything so different now? I mean, this creature is the great-granddaddy of the lovely beast I fought in Hades, but still.

  It's taken me a minute to catch on, but this open alley thing is apparently not going to cut it, so I kick in another department store window—by the way, do you know how thick those things are? It looks to be a Sears. Either that or Macy's has really extended its definition of "fashion accessory," because I see nothing but lawnmowers and refrigerators. And ties.

  Yup, definitely a Sears.

  I hear my admirer coming down an aisle next to me and it brings to mind a scene from one of the nine hundred Jurassic Park movies where the kids are in the kitchen hiding under a big steel table while the raptor walks right by them. I wonder if I'm that lucky. That question is answered when every toaster that was on the rack above my head abruptly lands at my feet. I look up and smile. "We really need to work on your temper."

  The creature leans over and lets loose a horrendous squall.

  "Or not." I scramble to my feet and haul ass to the escalators, which strangely enough are working just fine. I throw over a tall stand of sunglasses behind me before I step on. The creature—let's just call him Harry, as in Harry and the Hendersons—stares furiously at the mess before he gets frustrated and goes to the other escalator.

  Now, you know I'm going to laugh at him. It's going the wrong way. So, I wave and laugh some more as I make my way slowly to the next floor. At least, I'm laughing until I see who, coincidently, has decided to host their annual lodge meeting at the local Sears.

  "You've gotta be shittin' me," I say below my breath. This is definitely a dream.

  You're probably expecting a whole gaggle of Harrys, or at the very least Death Dealers, but no. That might actually mean something, while this is ridiculous. It's Trinity and his devotees.

  He is wearing a white ribbed turtleneck, which makes his blue eyes stand out ridiculously well. His slacks are dark chocolate, his shoes perfectly shined. He sees me and smiles, rising to his feet.

  "I didn't think you would come," he says enigmatically.

  "Sure," I laugh. "Don't I always come to Sears on Monday night, especially when I'm in the mood to get my ass kicked?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "No way, you can't miss the bl … " I point down to my bloodied clothes, but find that I am as naked as when I came into this world. "Um, I've never been known for being a prude, but seriously?" I am a little embarrassed that I'm so exposed in front of all … well, never mind, we're totally alone now. And no longer at Sears. We're suddenly at Trinity's estate.

  Trinity pulls his shirt off, carefully, and when he tosses it onto the bed I see why. His chest has been cut open.

  "Oh, God, what is this?" I ask, rushing to him. I don't want to seem overly concerned here, but I did care about him. And he looks like something out of one of those horror flicks I like to watch.

  He takes my chin in his hand. "You know this isn't real."

  I scoff, "Then why the hell am I dreaming about you?"

  He runs his hand lovingly through my hair. Now I know this is a dream. Or has he done this before and I don't remember it? The tenderness, not the gaping hole in his chest. "You tell me. Unfinished business?"

  "I don't have any unfinished business with you. You stole ten years from my life, not to mention my son! I missed all that stuff that only comes once, like his first words and his first steps. And why am I naked?"

  "Your dream, not mine," he laughs. "The last ten years weren't all bad. Remember the night we watched all those god-awful science fiction movies back to back?"

  We both fell asleep on the couch sometime around 4 a.m., if I recall correctly, and woke up with the sun coming through the big picture window, all golden and beautiful. "Sure, no big deal."

  He leans forward to kiss my forehead. "Maybe not, but what about all the times you came back to me after we fought?"

  "What about them? I've already admitted to you that I loved you. That's past tense, if you didn't hear me clearly. I had no knowledge of who I really was, so I can't be held responsible for my actions."

  "Or your emotions?"

  "I didn't have the benefit of all of the information." I pull out of his arms and sit on the bed. The sheets are bunched up on his side, where he's tangled them in his legs during the night. I can't tell you how many mornings I woke up this way; nothing covering me but his arm, or leg, or whatever part of him he could manage to hold onto me with.

  Like I would be stolen away.

  "You were stolen, Jess. But, I never held it against you. I was made out to be a fool. You sat next to me at his table, knowing how close the two of you had become and yet you let me confess my excitement over our engagement in front of everyone."

  "What was I supposed to say?" I don't recall any of this.

  "You may not remember it, but that doesn't mean the memories aren't there. Remember feeling that crippling sorrow the night you and Jacelynd—"

  I stop him. "How could I forget? I don't know how you managed that, but—"

  His next words make me want to scream. "The same way I am doing this. And I didn't force those feelings on you. You felt what I felt."

  Chills race over my skin. "What?"

  He sits down next to me and says softly, "I'm not trying to upset you. And I have nothing to do with any other part of your dream. But you seeing me here tied your mind to my dream. I had a feeling this might happen, though when you'd think about me again was anyone's guess."

  "So you aren't the reason I'm naked? Or that your insides could very well fall out any moment?"

  "No. That's all you and," he sweeps his fingers through my hair, "I have been gentle with you. You're just not the gentle type. You don't remember all the times I tucked you in after you'd fallen asleep on the couch, or in the car, or wherever. When I nursed you back to health after you refused my blood and almost died twice because of your injuries. You were waiting on Jacelynd and I was truthful with you—I told you then that Jacelynd wouldn't find you at my estate. After Iris told me what she'd done, I brought you here. Most of the rooms, aside from this one and several others, are lined in steel. It interferes with the mental connection of a Blood Tithe. He couldn't find you because he couldn't hear you."

  "I wondered why I hadn't told him where I was before the Tithe was broken." I touch the lower part of my shoulder, where the burn scars begin. "You could have told him. You could have let me go. You say all of this like you want me to see you as some knight in shining armor."

  "We were friends once and that's the only reason I did what I did when Iris called me. I didn't plan on falling in love with you. I stayed close by and then made sure I was assigned as your mentor."

  "So when exactly did you fall in love with me, Trinity? When did you stop seeing me as an old friend who'd betrayed your pride?"

  He is quiet for a moment before answering, and when he finally does, it makes me feel more than I want to. "I love Lucan like he is my own son, and in him I see what could have been, what should have been. He should have been our son, Jessica. In him, I see all of the reasons I loved you as a friend first and foremost. The night of your first solo assignment, when you pulled into my driveway just to be ne
ar me—something changed in me and I felt more than just physical attraction for you. I held you that night and something came alive in me.

  "We've known each other since we were children," he continues. "You've joked about my age, but I'm only six years older than you. You used to tag along with me and my friends. You were an annoying little thing—always wanting to play our games and be in on our boyhood secrets. You chased us one day after I'd been particularly nasty to you and you fell on a bunch of sharp stones just above the riverbank. It's where you got the scar on your ankle. You didn't shed a single tear or cry out. You just sat there staring at the rock like it had come out of nowhere. Most girls your age, immortal or not, would have collapsed into pieces. I didn't even know you were there until your cousin came up behind you and said something to us."

  "Quinn."

  He nods. "We had a lengthy conversation about how little he cared for me. As I'm sure he's told you by now, we never really got along."

  "I got that impression."

  "I'll never forget the first day I saw you as a young woman. We were both stuck at a ball, one of my family's events, and you were trying your damndest to avoid dancing. You said it felt like a meat market," he laughs, "and it was, in a way. You were there because you had come of age. Our parents had already made our marital arrangements but neither family wanted us to miss out on the festivities, being the revelers they were. Everyone wanted to be near you, Jess. You lit up a room just by walking in."

  As he is talking, the absurd thought crosses my mind that I still light up a room, but it's usually with some sort of accelerant.

  "I hadn't seen you for a few years," he continues, "so it took me a minute to find you. You were moping around in the shadows, avoiding everyone. And you were every bit as breathtaking as I had been told, as you are now."

  "Had you already decided to murder the Seer Cleric and his entire family, or did that come later?" I'm touched by all this mushy talk, but I'm not letting him forget what drove us apart initially, why we would never have worked out anyway. I'm also reminding myself.