“Ah, but she was special. He believed her talents could be used to restore his own magic. Though he was waiting to drain her essence until after she developed both sides of her magic.”
“Was this before or after fucking the poor thing.”
“Oh, that was how he died. We watched the whole thing play out, don’t you remember? When we looked into Sinclair’s death.”
“Oh, that’s right. The girl with the colorful hair. Someone helped her escape, but we never could see who it was.”
“Because we used Sinclair’s vision and memory. We couldn’t tell who broke into the room to save the girl from the inferno.”
“You really think it was Tremaine who pulled the girl from the fire? He was so entangled in our plots, he took a full year to even rejoin the Silver Council, and all because that fool Draecyn pulled him back into his old position. At least, we’re finally rid of Draecyn, thanks to one of the McCallisters.”
“Ah, but I believe Tremaine was as immersed in other plots as well. He’s part of a threesome. The third is Robert McCallister. Sinclair’s nephew. His father, Wilhelm, took Elizandra in shortly after her escape. Seems Tremaine spent years around Charleston to keep an eye on the girl after bringing her to the McCallisters.”
Jules’ smile grew slowly. “Why do all of the suspected Branches of Emrys members keep showing up around Tremaine Gallagher? And why do their children seem to be grouping together? I know Preston Emrys is partners with Robert McCallister now. Robert is the current Magister while Preston is the lieutenant. Sound familiar to you?”
“Ah, but the Magister is not the King. You know the inner circle runs the whole show.”
“Do they?” Jules quipped. “It seems to me the current Magister is making great strides in changing how the Council works at present. They did rebuild the entire program for non-mage casters to be included in the Enforcer program.”
“Draecyn is dead, but he wasn’t the one to drastically change the face of the Silver Council.”
“No, but Robert was Draecyn’s lieutenant after Tremaine truly left the Silver Council. Who do you think taught him?”
“And you think you can sway the three of them to our side?”
“I think it’s a possibility we should consider. We’ll have to take all three of them, promise them what they want, and deliver on it.”
“What should we expect from them?”
“Access to Draecyn’s stores. Even if they don’t realize they’re granting access, I can still follow Tremaine through rifts, as long as he isn’t translocated.”
“What precisely do you believe Robert to be?”
“You’ve seen the reports. He can translocate as far as he wants and whenever he wants. I believe that extends across dimensions as well.”
“So, a true mystic?” Jules asked in a snide tone with accompanying expression.
“Oh, he has mage blood. Enough that until he learns to harness all of his mystic abilities I won’t be able to track him by his ancestry.”
“And what do you think of his lieutenant? His gift with fire seems to be on par with mine.”
“Preston Emrys. He’s definitely a hybrid and an interesting one at that. I’m willing to bet he has Storm Mistress blood as well as descending from Myrddin Emrys.”
“Such a shame we couldn’t sway Priscilla to our side. His daughter would have made a fine addition to HARP.”
“Ah, but she was too set on the Silver Council’s goals. At least until her stint in Faerie. I always wondered what precisely became of her.” Anthony put a hand on his forehead as if holding back a headache.
“She went into hiding and had a child.”
“Obviously.”
“With them so tight, I wonder if they’re all to be the new leaders of Branches of Emrys. All the more reason for us to recruit them all.”
Jules snorted. “Tremaine won’t go for it. He’s their mentor. He’ll put a stop to it.”
“We can ruin all of them easily enough. They’ll seek sanctuary. Where else would they go?”
Jules grinned wickedly. “And you won’t want any or all of them in your bed?”
“No. I believe Elizandra truly loves him, and you saw what she did to Sinclair. He was supposed to be protected from all forms of magic, yet she was able to destroy him quite easily.”
“True. And quite worrisome. Are you sure you can control her?”
“With the proper motivation.”
“I suppose we’ll see. How do you plan to gather them?”
“First chance I get I’ll take them in myself. Perhaps I can make Tremaine see reason.”
“Perhaps you’ll get yourself killed,” Jules muttered.
“Do we not need the Rift Benders?”
“There are others.”
“Ah, but Tremaine can train her. We have no others at the moment. And we always wanted a mystic to join our cause.”
“Because the inner core demands one.” Jules sighed. “I suppose we have no other choice at present.”
* * * *
Eighty-three years ago, a month later…
Anthony sauntered into the room, his eyes trained on Tremaine. A smile curved his lips as he closed the distance. “I’ve missed you.”
Tremaine smirked, letting his eyes trail down and back up Anthony’s long body. Anthony was willing to explore any and all pleasures. Made his time interesting.
The door opened, and Tremaine nodded at Jules while Anthony devoured his presence with one gaze.
Talk about awkward. Jules wound his arm around Anthony and pulled his face close, taking a demanding kiss.
Tremaine quietly left the room. Moments later, Jules caught up to him as he headed outside to enjoy the cool morning air.
“You aren’t disappointed I captured Anthony’s attention?” Jules asked, malice in his voice.
Tremaine turned to Jules. “Not at all. I was surprised he came by my room. I was looking forward to a run, not coming between the two of you. I left to give you privacy.”
“You aren’t a voyeur?”
“No. Do you prefer to be watched?” Tremaine countered.
He shook his head slowly, a smile on his lips. “Does Anthony’s attention bother you?”
Tremaine half-laughed. “Only because he’s yours. I’ve been known to enjoy a man’s company. I may prefer a woman’s, but I don’t discriminate.”
“Interesting. Though, I’m curious, have you ever been in love?”
“No. I like my freedom too much.” Tremaine offered honestly.
Jules chuckled. “I used to be the same way. Though love can change a man.”
“Yes, well you found your other half. I’m not sure anyone was made for me.”
“You never know. Love typically comes when you need it most,” Jules murmured, looking back to the mansion they’d converted to their base of operations.
Tremaine breathed deep. He never believed love was in his cards. He’d played too many hands to tarnish his soul. Every day he dug himself deeper into dark plots he wished he could escape.
Much further, and he’d sink into their trap, never to escape. He couldn’t let that happen because secrets were still left to uncover… and leaders to locate. Somehow he would find a way to dismantle HARP and send it into a tailspin where recovery would be impossible.
* * * *
Draecyn sat against a tree, watching images of his daughter and the men in her life play out on a small pond. The surrounding woods were beautiful, but he was tired of the scenery.
Trapped indefinitely in purgatory, his only company was Ceridwen, when she wasn’t too busy to come visit. Time stood still though he watched as months passed.
His chest still ached from the mortal injury. The wound was clean, the curse gone, thanks to his daughter, but he wasn’t healing properly in this realm. That fact was neither here nor there.
Ceridwen sat across from him with a smile that always made Draecyn nervous.
He pressed a hand to his chest, trying to hold back
the ache. “Why did I ever let you talk me into sending Tremaine to HARP?” he asked softly. “That set everything into motion, and now it seems to be spiraling to a worse fate than you predicted.”
“We want HARP to believe victory will be theirs. They have no clue what Tremaine, Elizandra, and Robert are capable of when they work together. Besides, Preston is also on their side. The four of them…” Her smile broadened. “Their magic combined is unparalleled.”
“Which puts them in grave danger.”
“They will be fine, Draecyn.”
He threw his hands up. “My daughter is pregnant! Her lovers are worried, and rightfully so. I’ve already torn Tremaine apart once. I barely got my friend back when I sent him to save Elizandra. And now, after my supposed death, he will never trust me again.”
“He will understand. You were very near death when I found you. Elizandra was never much of a healer.”
His brow arched. “Then how did she heal Robert after taking the curse from him?”
“Simple, they formed a bond. The way a Rift Bender’s magic works, they can bond with many people in various ways. She linked to Tremaine when he took her away from Sinclair’s. She tied herself to Robert when he stole her heart. When they all came together, they bound further. She can work miracles for either of them. So can Tremaine, but he’s still holding so much back, afraid to tap into his true capabilities.”
“I wish I could have been more of a father to her.” He reached out to trace the cheek of his daughter in the pond but the water rippled. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. “She deserved so much better than her early years.”
“Which are not your fault. I wish you would realize that.”
“But Amalie didn’t know. I fell apart and pushed her away because, without my position in the Branches, none of this would have happened.”
“It would have, and Liz would have been lost to the cause. HARP is still searching for Rift Benders. They have always searched. If I hadn’t found her when I did, she would have suffered far worse.”
“They’ve all suffered greatly. And now they’ll be forced to endure more. When does it end? How much does she have to sacrifice? She’s pregnant now.”
Ceridwen shook her head. “They will have happiness and come through the fire whole.”
“All of them? I can’t see Elizandra’s heart crushed once again. I can’t stand to watch Robert walk through life without the other half of his heart. And Tremaine—I never realized the old fool would fall in love with either of them, and there they are, a triumvirate of power that will grow more powerful than we ever anticipated.”
“You never anticipated this turn of events, but I tried to tell you what would happen.”
“You said he would always protect her.”
“And he has. I also said he would love her.”
“I thought you meant as a father.”
“Do you trust Tremaine with her life?”
“Yes.”
“And did he touch her in such a way prior to last year?”
“No. He’s always cared for her. And I don’t fault him for falling for her, or her falling for him. I never imagined the three of them would form such a strong bond through love. She was always Robert’s, even before she could accept it for herself.
Ceridwen nodded. “Yes, but she was a child when she met Tremaine. He always recognized she belonged with Robert. It took decades, and Robert’s suggestion, that the three of them could form a stronger love than any two of them. And, Draecyn, your daughter could never be whole without Tremaine.”
“They’re happy, but for how long?”
“Every relationship goes through hard times.”
He laughed with bitterness. “Oh, yes, and you keep telling me Amalie will one day see me as a man to love again. But after keeping her daughter a secret, I’m not sure how you can be so certain of that.”
“She’ll eventually understand. None of us knew who took your child until I stumbled upon Sinclair’s cattle.”
“And you stayed for nearly ten years to protect her. Only you didn’t actually keep her safe. You let that monster rape her.”
She sighed, meeting his gaze. “Her savior had to be there. I can help shape the future, but completely preventing important events would only hurt her worse in the end. Without her attack, the fire wouldn’t have started, and the other slaves would have died slow, painful deaths. Without Tremaine being there, she may have suffocated. I ensured the pieces were in place for the best possible outcome. And as much as it hurts to know her innocence was ripped away, it helped create the woman she became.”
“I wish I could have saved her.”
“Ah, but Tremaine would never have come back to us if you hadn’t sent him to find Elizandra. He never would have found his purpose. You forget, old friend, I see everything, and I do my best to ease the journey, but so much is at stake.”
“Tell me my daughter won’t have to endure what I did when I lost my only child.”
“None of them will. And part of your pain was your refusal to claim her.”
“Amalie would have taken her, hidden her away with the druids. At least, my way I got to watch her become an adult.”
“Foolish man. Amalie only let you go when you were so broken you could no longer accept her comfort. You shut her out. You, not the other way around.”
“And she hates me now.”
“She never has. One day you will see her again, and find that she loves you every bit as much as she always has.”
“I’m not important now. Elizandra is. Swear to me the three of them, and that baby will come out all right?”
Ceridwen smiled. “They will. They will go through trials, but they will be stronger for it.”
“I pray you’re right.”
Chapter 12
Elizandra stood at the rose garden, trimming the damned bushes. She was so young. Her tangled curls hung around her shoulders, a hundred shades of colors brought out by the sun.
“Not good enough,” Sinclair hissed, tearing her shirt off her back. The switch flicked out. Tremaine stepped forward, but couldn’t move as a whoosh rent the air.
He shot a spell, but nothing happened.
Before the switch connected with Liz’s back, Anthony appeared, stepping between Sinclair and Liz, who simply stood there, waiting for the punishment.
Anthony met Tremaine’s gaze and a cruel smile formed. He burst into mist and surrounded Sinclair, who screamed.
Liz spun around and stumbled back. She scrambled away and up, running hard as she could from the estate.
Sinclair rose in the air, the mist ripping him to shreds, his skin melting, his blood dripping. His screams died as what was left fell in a heap of shredded skin and broken bones.
“You can’t save her,” Anthony whispered, moving toward him. “She will be ours, and you will be mine. I may let you hold her at night, but I will claim you once again.”
Tremaine jerked, consciousness rolling in. His heart pounded in his chest, slamming into his ribs. He consciously made an effort to slow his breathing.
Questions rolled through his head. How did Anthony know about Elizandra? About Sinclair? And why the hell did Anthony seem surprised to find him in the dream?
Liz curled closer to Robert as Tremaine climbed out of bed. He couldn’t go back to sleep with the images in his head.
What the hell can’t I save her from? And does he think he’ll take Liz from us?
He pushed his hand through his hair and left the room.
* * * *
Tremaine stood in the kitchen, preparing enough food to fuel an army. Hopefully, one of them would wake up soon because the other would follow.
The harder he thought about the night before, the more questions he had. Liz’s attention had continuously drifted toward the bar. He hadn’t seen anyone watching any of them.
Didn’t mean no one was there. Liz saw through illusions, thanks to a tattooed ward, courtesy of Fallon. Someone may have been hiding from them.
Only one person he knew who could cloak themselves well enough Tremaine couldn’t strip the illusion.
Fear wound through him. He figured it would take more time before Anthony started snooping around in person. Though he was the one who told Robert that HARP would likely send most of their people away and sweep in. He never meant Anthony and Jules would personally come.
Then again, if Anthony knew Tremaine was alive, the bastard might believe he could take him back. Though he couldn’t imagine Jules would ever go for that after he tried to kill him the last time.
A feminine yawn turned his head. Liz stood in the room wearing one of their button-down shirts and a sleepy smile as she leaned against the archway. “Morning, Trem. I take it this means you want us to start training sooner than not?”
His nod and frown answered her question. “First, I want to talk to you. I want to teach you how to tap into your magic, the kind you never considered using in a way only those of both druid and mage blood can. Plus, I have a feeling you’ll be able to shift once you accept your druid side.”
“Amalie couldn’t teach me. What makes you think you’ll help me find my beast?”
He snorted. “Well, she was trying to train you like a druid would. We don’t work the same. Our triggers are different. What would activate a shift for a druid, sparks our rift magic. You’ve used it, hell, it’s how you create your hidey holes.”
“You can create them?” she asked softly, her brow furrowed.
Tremaine drew a slow breath and shook his head. “Yeah, but never as concentrated or stable as yours. Probably why I didn’t recognize yours for what they were.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighed. “Just that. You create dimensional pockets with ease. Small, contained ones. I never had that control. Mine are expansive, and tend to rip apart the area.” Tremaine scrubbed a hand over his face. “Perhaps we can learn from each other. I always feared what I could do because my teachers only ever showed me the destructive nature.”
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