Chelsea turned to Tremaine with a smile. Her eyes traveled over his body. “Why hello there, stranger. Where have you been hiding this last month?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Needed to get lost.”
“Find a better offer?” she taunted.
His eyes narrowed. What did she really know? “Offer?”
“Never mind that. Are you interested in getting reacquainted? Or are you worried you’ll piss off your companion?”
Now he really did laugh. “Oh, I wouldn’t call her that. She’s not the one I want.” But, no one was.
Tossing her golden blond waves over her shoulder, she grabbed the front of his collar and pulled him toward the back of the establishment. “I have a room nearby. I think it’s time to catch up. Don’t you?”
“I don’t know. If you’re planning to bring me in, I’ll do without that,” he warned, his tone and expression both dark.
“Into my bed?” she teased.
He licked his lips, letting his gaze travel back to her breasts, though he had every intention of killing her quickly behind closed doors. “We could have our fun before I slip into the night.”
Her hand curved over his ass, squeezing. “I truly have missed you.” She met his gaze, her eyes gleaming.
Tremaine changed his focus to her lips. “You have no idea what I missed.”
“I think I do,” she purred, pushing him toward a wall.
He spun her around and kissed her deeply, cupping her breasts.
“Need to get you inside,” she moaned, shoving him back to grab his hand and hurry down the street. She ran up the stairs of a townhouse. Once inside, Chelsea turned to him, her hand open, a spell on her tongue.
Tremaine caught her arm, twisting it up and back, before slamming her against the door. “Thought we were here for fun?”
“Oh, sweetheart, I want you on your knees,” she answered.
“Keep dreaming, Chel. You know me better than that.”
“Yeah. Thought I knew you. Rumors going around paint a very different picture. HARP? Really? Finally stopped kissing Draecyn’s ass, and for what?”
“You think that’s what this is about? Try Maynard’s constant accusations. Yet another internal investigation into my methods. I’m done. I’ve given the Silver Council everything, Chel. Everything. And he keeps trying to push me out.”
“He wants you dead.” Chelsea waited, anticipating his anger.
“And what do you want?”
“The truth. You were with a known HARP officer.”
Only he hadn’t learned who Tabitha was, or that she was a ranking HARP officer until he woke up in that cell. Why did Draecyn keep so much from him?
“One who wants to recruit me. I’m just playing nice. I have no interest in HARP.”
Chelsea pushed back and started chanting.
Pain radiated through his chest, spreading to his limbs.
Tremaine was done playing. He covered her head with his free hand and channeled energy, reversing the spell she cast. Her hair caught fire as electricity crackled to life around them.
She let out a strangled scream as her body convulsed. Chelsea managed to cry out, “Wanted you to love me.”
“You wanted to use me,” he growled against her ear. “I’m just a stepping stone, same as last time, when you falsely accused my mother, a healer, of murdering her own husband.”
“Then who?” she demanded.
“He had plenty of enemies.” He let the spell fade, wanting her to know the truth before she died.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” She panted while trying to speak. “That’s why you were so angry when you found out I brought her in.”
“You planted evidence to have an innocent woman killed. Worst of all, a woman who had been beaten and dehumanized by that son of a bitch.”
“You killed your own father.”
“He wasn’t my father. Not that it matters. I was ten fucking years old. He beat the shit out of me. That piece of work would have killed my mother, then me.”
“I’m sorry,” she pleaded. “I never knew.” Tears fell down her face. “Please, forgive me. Come back with me. Prove Maynard wrong.” Her tone was pitiful, begging.
“Once again, only interested in saving yourself.” He pushed every ounce of energy into Chelsea. Fire roared around him, spreading, and he slipped into the night, hurrying down the street as smoke billowed from the building.
Chapter 6
Liz stared at the journal in her hand. Written in code. One Tremaine taught them while they were still in the Enforcer program, meant to keep secrets from everyone, including the Silver Council.
Her mind spun through the possibilities, not really reading the words, but skimming for anything that stood out. His secrets ran deeper than she’d ever considered.
Preston stepped beside her. “I told Robert to call you last night.”
“Thanks. Look, with what these files contain, I can see how he questioned Tremaine. You know how Robert gets. He wants everything in black and white. It takes people like us to make him aware of the varying shades. And most of the time, he still resists.”
“Hey, he’s getting better about it.” Preston smirked. “I don’t know how often I’ve heard him say something like, ‘If Liz were here, she’d do this,’ then we’d be off, to do it your way.”
A smile spread on her face. “I always drove him crazy. Pulling him through some insane notion because I had a feeling.”
“Yeah, but you were right more often than not. It’s why, every time he’s stuck, he starts trying to figure out how you would go about solving the case.”
She looked back at the journal. “Tremaine wrote everything in our code.”
Preston nodded. “He didn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands. But you want to know something interesting?”
“Maybe.”
“Your father taught him the code. Tremaine’s first journal starts off in English. But a few chapters in, it switches to this and explains that Draecyn asked him to switch to the code. Only I think it’s an arcane language. Those seem to be some form of glyph, but nothing I recognize.”
She frowned. “Draecyn was a strange old man. Why do you think he wanted Tremaine to write everything in a dead language?”
“To protect a hybrid? There aren’t many mage/druid hybrids. From the time Tremaine was young, Draecyn helped him find his path. I don’t know if it was for a bigger purpose, or just to keep him safe. Draecyn has always had ties to the druids, and all Others. He was progressive in his thinking from the very beginning. It’s why he’d tried multiple times to start Enforcer programs involving other types of casters. He had plans to include various shifters as well, but those never panned out because of the argument that they couldn’t counter magic unless they had their own.”
“Right. Though his programs never lasted long.”
“Because of the Fanning family. Since the last of their line died with Jarvis, I think it’s safe to say we have a chance to make it work.”
“If only they’d accept us hybrids.” She winked at Preston. “We aren’t so bad. And I’m willing to bet there are more of us than the mages want to admit.”
Preston added with a shrug, “Yeah. No doubt about that.”
Liz dropped her gaze back to the journal and flipped a few more pages. She froze as her eyes gravitated to a passage.
Rift Bender, that’s what Tabitha keeps calling me. Apparently, the Silver Council is wrong, wanting us to believe mages and druids produce children with no magic. On the contrary, nearly every one of us is a powerful dimensional shaper, hence Bender or Rift Bender.
I’ve only read about Benders. I didn’t realize where we came from, or the true power we carry. Without harnessing our ability, it can erupt in the most terrifying ways. Our magic can be amassed in a group, causing cataclysmic destruction. No one dimension can truly contain our power. If we aren’t careful, we can pull other dimensions into our own, destroying both.
Liz’s stomach bottomed
out. The fact there was a name for what she could do, and that Tremaine had used the term cataclysmic destruction only confirmed her suspicion she was some type of monster. The power scared Tremaine. A man who never feared a thing in his life had been terrified of his own abilities.
She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a breath. Her child was going to be the same as her regardless of the father. She knew it from the bottom of her heart. At least, the munchkin would have parents who would love and nurture him.
Neither Liz nor Tremaine had that growing up. She’d read enough of his childhood to learn Tremaine’s upbringing was as bad as hers. If he weren’t outside with Robert, she would pull him into her arms and hold him tight. So much in common, yet neither of them had shared with the other.
He bottled it up the same as she did for so long. Now she didn’t know how to let it out. Shaking her head, she refocused on the book, skimming through until she found a spell titled Dimensional Shift.
As she processed the words, a rumble started, and the ground shook, but she felt compelled to continue reading.
Tremaine tore the book from her hand. “Shit. Slow down,” he barked. “I forgot that was in there, or I would have pulled it from the pile.”
Liz sucked in a breath. “You startled me. You were just outside.”
He held up the book. “That’s not a spell you want to mess with.”
“You don’t want me to know more about what I am?” she asked in confusion.
She already knew it was a spell specifically for Rift Benders.
“It’s not that. The spell. That’s the beginning of all the shit you don’t know yet. All the shit I need to teach you.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I should have started training you, or at the very least explained, the second I found out exactly what you were. Instead, I buried it all so deep I didn’t even think about it until HARP cropped up.”
“Hey,” she took his face in her hands and looked deep into his eyes. “I can imagine it’s hard when you’ve had to hide for as long as you can remember. Hell, I’m sure I’ve done things that should have made people question what I was, but I had no clue.”
Tremaine smiled at her, genuine sadness written on his face. “Like Robert, you have exceptional powers. Like me. Like Preston. Even Emily.”
“But Robert and Emily are all mage, right?”
“I’m not so positive of that. Either Wilhelm or Kathryn, more likely both, had to be descended from mystics. It’s the only thing that explains how James and Emily conceived a mystic.”
Robert’s head whipped toward Tremaine, shock clear on his face.
Tremaine squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll get to that soon enough.”
“One thing at a time,” Robert muttered.
With a soft laugh, Liz dipped her head. “Well, that certainly does explain a few things and makes the situation more interesting.” The news almost tumbled from her tongue, but she wasn’t ready to share that bit of information just yet. “So, we’re Rift Benders?”
“Yeah, and it’s not a comforting thought, especially with the way you have always claimed you were only capable of destruction. At first look, that’s what our power appears to be, but we’re capable of more.”
Her expression soured, glancing at the book in his hand before locking eye contact. “And this Tabitha bitch taught you that?”
He snorted. “She’s long since dead. But, yeah, she forced me to cast this spell without understanding what would happen. I don’t even think she knew the purpose of it either. The building collapsed in a dimensional flux.”
She snorted. “Did someone from HARP teach you how to harness this curse?”
He took her arm. “I used to believe it was a curse. It’s not. At least not when used appropriately. You need to practice, but the problem is you may become a target. So we should be exceedingly careful to use this where they’ll never find us.”
“So I was right. We destroy.”
“You can also create. Nurture. Love. You can help in ways you never imagined. So calm down.”
He was the one who saved her. Took her away from her own hell. Tremaine had given her life. He was capable of love, even when he believed he didn’t possess that emotion. “You’re right.”
His eyes brightened. “Like everything, you’ll learn quickly, and find that with knowledge, you aren’t the destructive monster you think.” He pressed a kiss on her mouth, one designed to distract her thought process. “Gives us a reason to spend more time at the cabin. Robert is the only other person invited.”
A smile played across her lips. “Sounds good to me.”
One more major question. Her father seemed deeply embroiled, so she no longer knew whose side he was on. “Draecyn sent you on this mission? You two were always close.”
* * * *
Eighty-four years ago…
Tremaine sat in a cabin in the middle of the mountains, completely isolated from all civilization.
“Why here?” he asked with a raised brow.
Tabitha’s chartreuse eyes sparkled. “No one can know what you’re about to do. The Council would kill you if they realized you possessed the power to translate the language, not to mention, harness the power.”
More damned riddles. “What are you talking about?”
“Never mind that. Transcribe it, now.”
He scanned over the symbols, not bothering to try to read the arcane glyphs he’d never seen. “This isn’t anything I’ve ever laid eyes on. What makes you think I can read it?”
Her smile turned evil. “Look at the words. Study them, and we’ll know if this was a fool’s errand, or if my superiors are right.”
Huffing, he took a seat and slammed the tablet down. She kept talking about her superiors, keeping it vague. Not a single detail had been divulged, other than they were pleased with his progress.
“You still don’t trust me with who they are?”
Her brow arched. “They’ll decide when and if you’re ready to meet them.”
“Haven’t I gone above and beyond what they’ve asked of me?”
“I don’t make those calls. Now read.”
“Why? Tell me why you think I can simply read this?”
“They say you’re a Rift Bender. That you’ll be able to read it because the words were written by your people. And they also tell me you’re more powerful than anyone has a right to be. You’ll be the first to have enough ability to actually transcribe the slab of stone and remain in one piece.”
Tremaine had his doubts. Draecyn always told him he was capable of great feats, but no one had shown him what. He’d never stumbled upon magic that blew everything else out of the water. Yet, Tabitha believed he could do something incredible.
He settled back and gazed at the text, wondering what would happen if he just pretended to do it. If he were one of the few who would be able to translate it, he could really do anything he wanted. They’d never know the difference. Right? Unless they had found more of his kind.
He snorted. My kind?
A product of two types of casters that generally avoided each other. They didn’t mix. Druids believed in the Goddess and nature while mages thought their own people had shaped the world. All the theories made his damned head hurt.
With a sigh, he scribbled the words from the tablet onto the paper.”
“That’s it,” Tabitha squealed excitedly. He was too lost in the words on the tablet to pay attention to the creaking wood, or the thundering sound from beneath them. Then the table started to jump beneath his hands, and his writing became sloppy as he scribbled on the piece of paper.
Someone screamed, but he didn’t bother looking up as the words continued forming in his head, and magic poured forth.
The room around him distorted, showing a brilliantly colored cavern. Dazzling gemstones lined the walls while lava flowed down one side.
Smoke filled his nostrils while he finished the spell. Magic buried deep inside roared to life, wanting out.
&nb
sp; Blinking, he shook his head. The cabin lay in shambles, the ceiling split down the middle. A stalactite impaled Tabitha’s chest, lava had melted her face, and set her clothes on fire.
He locked that magic deep inside, hoping to never tap into it again. Chances were HARP wanted him for that exact power. He couldn’t fathom why.
Tremaine scrambled from the ruins, backing away and staring at the destruction. The cabin had been torn to pieces, alien rocks layered throughout the foundation seemingly fused with what once stood. Molten lava pooled in places, and yeah, they were on a mountain, but there had been no volcanic activity.
Clapping echoed from the trees. He spun around, coming face to face with a man he’d never seen. “You’ve passed the first test, and rid us all of a liability. She was too proud of herself for recruiting the great Tremaine Gallagher.”
Tremaine pushed his hair away from his face and glared back at the intruder. “And you are?”
“An officer for HARP. You’re under my command now, until you prove your worth. By appearances, you have acclimated to our cause, but we want to know you can produce results to further our goals. Especially since you joined far too easily.”
Joined easily? He bit back his first response. Tortured for more than two weeks, put through the ringer, and given one mission after another to cause chaos. Easy?
Tremaine choked out a bitter laugh. “And what’s my first mission?”
* * * *
Tremaine nodded, his heart sinking again. He didn’t know how to tell her how close Draecyn had come to breaking him. The shit he did back then because that bastard knew he could survive the trials and not lose sight of the goal.
Draecyn was nearly wrong. So many times he wanted to let the reins go and fall head first into the darkness wrapping around him, pulling him deeper into the viper’s nest of HARP.
So much to tell her about her father and his grand schemes. The man had been an enigma from the beginning. He had stores of magical books, instruments, relics. Draecyn collected magical artifacts too dangerous to allow anyone to touch. And Tremaine knew where they were stashed. He’d help build and ward the catacombs where most of the dangerous shit was contained.
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