The Helio Trilogy: Volumes 1-3

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The Helio Trilogy: Volumes 1-3 Page 45

by Valerie Roeseler


  Beck glances at Becky facing him and back to his sister, “I’m gonna stick around for a bit. I’ll catch you guys later.” Becky blushes up at him.

  Thea warns, “Be careful.”

  Paranoia eats at me as we make our way back to where we parked, though the sensation in my spine fades. Jack places my guitar in the back seat, and I toss the keys to him. He freezes, regarding me with wide eyes beneath the brim of his ball cap. “You’re sure?” he tests.

  I nod, “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter 5

  Jack sends a text on his phone while he drives, and I blare the stereo for a distraction from my suspicions. Who could be watching me? What do they want? Beleth is dead, I would smell Lucian a mile away, and Lilith wouldn’t be so subtle about coming for me. If it were Solas, I would’ve felt him through our bond. I really wish it was him. But if it was, what does that mean for the bond between us? Is it gone? Is it possible? Is that what I want?

  We pull off the main highway and follow the dirt road up the side of the mountain to Red Meadow Lookout—our spot. I muse, “We’re not going home?”

  He seems unfocused as he responds, “No. It’s been crowded, and I want to take advantage of being alone with you.” Reaching over the console, Jack takes my hand in his, brings it to his lips, and kisses my knuckles. Considering my wall of empathy, I decide to let it crumble away. His sentiments flow through our touch. Love, concern, desire.

  Dark skies greet us as we sit on the edge of the cliff to smoke, legs dangling over its precipice. The town below sparkles with city lights, and I hear the faint sound of music coming from the coffee shop fifteen miles away. Our legs and arms brush against each other with subtle movements as we watch the town below.

  Jack nudges my arm, “How’ve you been sleeping?”

  I shrug, “Alright, I guess.”

  He takes my hand, “No nightmares?” I shake my head. “And no visions?”

  I contemplate telling him about the visions I’ve had, but I don’t want to hurt him with my growing need to find Solas and decide to keep it to myself. “No.” I don’t like lying to Jack, but seeking Solas is something I need to do on my own. I won’t be able to forgive myself until I resolve things with him.

  Giving his hand a quick squeeze, I lay my head on his shoulder. He tucks a hair behind my ear. My head tilts back to admire his face. He searches my eyes and leans in closer, speaking with a low, velvety tone, “I love you.”

  I utter, “I love you too, Jack.”

  His lips meet mine with delicate hesitance, but I want more. I drop my wall again, letting my need course into him. He responds with intense hunger. Trailing his hands to my hips, he urges me closer with a deep groan. I gasp as his tongue caresses my neck, then his grip tightens on my hips. He lifts me from his side to straddle him with the emptiness of the cliff’s sheer drop at my back. I remove his ball cap and toss it behind him to run my fingers through his hair. Jack’s lips find mine again as his hands run up the sides of my spine beneath my sweater. I shudder with pleasure. My wings burst from my shoulder blades, shredding it apart.

  “Shit,” I grumble, watching what remains of my sweater drift on the breeze to the rocks below.

  Jack’s low rumble of laughter draws my attention, and I blush with embarrassment, covering my face. He pulls my hands away, “Don’t.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek, their apples burning. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t hide. I want to see your smile. It’s been a while,” he notes.

  I pull my wings back in, leaning my forehead against his. “I’ve missed you, Jack. I’m so sorry.”

  He breathes in long and deep. His muscles tense as he jerks his head to the left, searching the distance. I trace his focus, scanning the sky. He notes, “Do you smell that?”

  Drawing in the scent of the air, I’m met with the faintest odor of putrid waste. “Fallen,” I mutter in warning as I continue to examine the darkness.

  “We should get back,” Jack suggests, and I nod in approval.

  Despite the freezing temperatures, I roll my window down as I drive us back to the estate and do the unforgivable—I smoke in my car. I’m grateful Jack ignores the action, yet I think it’s because he understands my uneasiness. Rivers of fire flash in my mind with the smell, and my hands begin to tremor with the memory of my time in Sheol.

  Jack places his hand on my thigh, “You ok?”

  I nod with precipitous conviction to hide my fear, “Yeah. I’m fine.” Feeling his eyes burn into me, I chance a glance at his disbelieving countenance. “Fine,” I huff, then take another drag of my cigarette. “I can’t help but feel like something’s wrong. I feel unprepared. Nervous. Maybe it’s just the odor. I haven’t smelled them since… Do you think they’re coming?”

  “I think we should prepare for anything,” he stresses. As we drive in the silence of our own thoughts, Jack curses, “Fuck.”

  “It’s getting stronger, isn’t it?” I voice, noting the growing stench.

  He sighs heavy, pulling the brim of his hat lower before licking his lips. “Yeah.”

  Creeping through the towering gates of the estate, the disgusting redolence churns my stomach. I swallow the sickness, pressuring to erupt. The rank and pungent aroma mixes with a tinge of repulsive sweetness like rotting meat and cheap perfume. “Someone’s here,” I emphasize as I park between his Skyline and Eric’s Charger.

  “Stay close,” Jack commands before we dash with angelic velocity from the car through the front door. Nothing could have prepared me for the situation we’re met with.

  We pause within the foyer, using our senses to assess the situation. Furniture is overturned in the entertainment room, shattered glass coating every surface. The hallway past the stairs isn’t any better. Pictures are barely hanging on their nails, and others are crushed on the floor. Massive holes and cracks blemish the walls and chunks of plaster are scattered everywhere. I smell the blood before I see it pooled in the kitchen. Jack growls. There’s a whimper up the stairs.

  “Alice!” I cry out, rushing to the parlor on the second floor. Jack and I burst through the open door, ready for a fight.

  “Mother,” Jack calls to Evelyn standing at the bar, holding a towel to her bicep. He’s by her side in the blink of an eye.

  Alice is sitting on the floor in the far corner, her wings flattened against the wall. She’s grasping her side as she wheezes out of breath, sweat pouring down her paling face. Eric’s kneeling beside her outstretched legs, his naked back to me as he keeps the pressure on the hemorrhage in her thigh. I dart to his side, sliding on my knees.

  I run a hand over her hair, noting the cold sweat across her brow, “What happened?”

  Eric regards me over his shoulder, “Can you help her?” I nod. He points out, “Start with her leg. It hit the artery, and it’s having trouble mending.”

  I place a hand over his, relieving him of his position, and slip my other hand under Alice’s to the rib protruding from her side. “I can do it all at once, but you need to step back,” I warn Eric. “Ready?” I ask Alice.

  “Do it,” she grits through her clenched teeth.

  Heat grows from my core, focusing into my palms. I squeeze my eyes shut against the blinding illumination lashing out from their orifices. An electric charge jolts between my hands and her wounds, fusing my touch to her body. Alice’s low groan bursts into a scream. My hearing becomes muffled into a high pitch hum in my ears, vibrating my skull.

  The heat dissipates with the light behind my eyes, and Alice’s breathless voice clears the white noise in my head, “Did I ever tell you how much I love you?”

  I open my eyes to her brightening smile, and hug her tight, “I love you too.”

  Eric helps her to her feet, pulling her into his embrace as he gives me a curt nod in thanks. I approach Evelyn and Jack, “Are you ok?”

  Evelyn stands straighter, “I’ll heal just fine, dear.”

  Jack demands, “What happened?”
r />   I spin on Eric, interrupting Jack, “Where’s Thea and Cass? Is Beck back yet? Why didn’t you call us?” Jack places his hands on my shoulders behind me to calm me down.

  Eric overdramatizes the tilt of his head further than necessary with wide eyes. “If you’re quite done…”

  I sigh, releasing more tension in my body. “Sorry.”

  He rights his posture, “As I was going to say… We smelled him when we got here. He had Evelyn cornered in the entertainment room. I’ve never seen someone that huge. He’s got to be close to eight feet tall, man.” Eric breathes, running his fingers through his hair. “Alice charged at him unarmed, not seeing the blade in his hand… It was a twisted tri-dagger. Wickedest thing I’ve ever seen. Man, I want one, it—”

  “Babe,” Alice bites.

  Eric refocuses, “Sorry. So, Alice was stabbed and tossed across the room. The Griff’s heard the commotion and helped me subdue him while your mom helped Alice up here.”

  I quirk a brow, “Subdue?”

  He shrugs, “Yeah, he’s downstairs with the Griff’s.”

  My brows furrow, “Why was he here?”

  He shakes his head, “I don’t know. Let’s go find out.”

  Jack turns to Evelyn, “Will you be alright?”

  “Yes. I’ll be in my room getting cleaned up.” She tosses her bloodied towel into the sink behind the bar and leaves the room.

  Alice trails Eric through the door, and I turn to follow. Jack grasps my wrist, “Wait.” I face his formidable body, standing strong with intense anger rolling off him in waves. “I want you to stay upstairs.”

  “Why?”

  “We don’t know if he was here for you or not. Until we know for sure, you need to stay out of sight. If there’s any chance that he was sent for you, I don’t want his motivation to be encouraged.”

  “I don’t want to be that coward. I don’t want to run,” I argue.

  “Look. We’re going to get answers.” Jack hesitates, assessing my reaction. “I don’t want you around to witness the process.”

  “I’m a big girl, Jack,” I scowl.

  He gives me a crooked grin, his rough exterior waning, “I know you are.”

  I cross my arms over my chest, cocking my hip out in defiance as I purse my lips and squint my eyes. “Fine. I’ll give you one hour. Then, I’m coming down there to question him my own way.”

  “Deal,” he nods, before kissing me on the forehead and making his way to the basement.

  “One hour!” I call after him.

  “Call Beck,” he answers.

  Skirting the bar, I find the sink to wash Alice’s blood off my hands. I dry them on a bar towel hanging over the back counter and pull my phone from my back pocket. I call Beckett, and it takes more rings for him to answer than I like, causing worry to creep up my spine.

  “Ivy?” Beck answers breathlessly, the background quiet.

  “Beck, where are you? Are you ok?”

  Frustration enters his voice, “I’m fine. Did you need something?”

  In the background, I hear Becky’s voice accompanied with running water, “Everything ok?”

  I rub my hand over my face, “Oh, Beck. Tell me you didn’t.” His chuckle is all the answer I need. “We need you home. There was an attack. Your brother and sister have a Fallen downstairs now.”

  I listen as Beckett rummages around the room he’s in, “I’m on my way.” He hangs up on me in a hurry, and I scoff at the phone before sliding it back in my pocket.

  I lean my back against the sink, scanning the bottles of alcohol lining the mirror-backed shelves. The training room turned ballroom does nothing to suppress the acoustics vibrating through the house. If anything, I put money on it magnifying the sounds within the basement. The captured Fallen roars in harrowing anger. I swipe a bottle of my favorite spirit and pour a scotch glass to the brim with Jägermeister. Throwing it back in three gulps, its potency trickles through my extremities.

  After pouring a second full glass, I carry it upstairs to my balcony, hoping the distance will help mute the Fallen’s cries. I plop into a chair and prop my feet on the table as I light a cigarette. Beck and Cass hover over the balcony, looking down to me.

  Beck requests, “Can we join you?”

  I exhale a cloud of smoke. “I don’t see why not.”

  The brothers land on the edge of the balcony, retracting their russet and chocolate appendages before jumping down to sit with me.

  I inquire, “Has he said anything yet?”

  Cass leans forward on his elbows, “I don’t think so. I didn’t stick around to find out. I don’t like being present for such things.”

  I understand his sentiment, remembering how Beleth forced him to whip me in the dungeons of The Keep and the tears in his eyes as he did what was commanded of him. “I understand. But they’ve got half an hour before I take things into my own hands.”

  “No offense,” Beck begins. “But what do you think you can do that they can’t?”

  The corner of my somber lips twitch with a huff of arrogant amusement. “I’ll extract his essence from him just enough to let him know he should fear me and shove it back in so he can talk. I know you’ve bared witness to my ability when I killed Ryker in The Keep. What you don’t see is the agony it causes. It’s excruciating. He won’t be able to keep his secrets for long after a few rounds.”

  Cass grunts. “Are you sure that’s something you wish to do? Torturing someone is nothing like the battles you’ve fought. It’s a whole other creature that eats at you thereafter.”

  I down my drink from the table and light another cigarette. “I can handle it.”

  “There’s no doubt about that,” Beck voices.

  The silence is cut by the Fallen below, and I try to get our minds off of it. I nudge Beckett’s shoulder, “So, you and Becky, huh?”

  His mischievous grin’s accompanied with a bashfulness I’ve yet to see in him. “That obvious?” he muses, echoing my words back at me from when he questioned my relationship with Solas.

  My feet slide to the ground as I sit up straight, “Oh, c’mon! You were clearly in the shower with her when I called.”

  Beckett chuckles, his shoulders convulsing with the sound. His brother joins in the laughter.

  As the laughter dies down, another roar comes from our prisoner. I put out my cigarette, standing from my seat, “Alright. Enough of this. Time’s up.” They rise from their seats, and I motion for them to sit back down. “No. Stay. There’s a bottle of whiskey in my room if you want it. Help yourselves.” They sit back down, and I zip through the house to the kitchen.

  Alice and Thea are standing guard at the door leading down to the basement. “Anything?” I bluster. Thea shakes her head, her irritation evident as Alice sighs. “I’m going down there.”

  Alice fields my approach, “Jack said you shouldn’t.”

  “I don’t care. They’re not getting anywhere.”

  Alice exchanges a look with Theodora then rolls her eyes. “Fine.” She steps aside, and Thea bangs on the door to the basement with the flat side of her fist.

  “Go ahead,” she gestures to the door with her head.

  I grasp the doorknob and use my shoulder to push it open as I rush through the threshold. The smell of the Fallen below pricks my senses. My stomach clenches against the sickness it elicits as I attempt to compose myself and slow my steps as I descend. I’m met with Jack and Eric’s exposed backs blocking my view of the prisoner. Eric’s deep purple feathers lay in graceful patterns against the length of his broad back. Jack’s bare skin glistens with sweat across the rolling swells and curves of his powerful muscles. His fists drip with blood at his sides, but I know it’s not his own.

  Without turning to me, Jack insists, “It’s not happening, Ivy. He’s not talking. We’ve already called Michael to come deal with his punishment.”

  “No,” I stress. “Give me ten minutes.”

  Jack gives me a sidelong glance over his shoulder. Before he
can refuse, the Fallen prisoner voices in a thick Irish accent, “Tis that ye, Princess?” I don’t respond, and Jack and Eric’s bodies tense. The Fallen continues, “Aye, tis. Yisser blud is dat av me Queen. Oi tart oi smelled yer. Tis loike de peggy dell av mouldy cherries.” He inhales deep and moans with pleasure. “Tis gran’.”

  My face contorts, and I ask Jack, “What the fuck is he saying?”

  Eric steps aside, turning to face me as he pulls his wings inside himself and rubs his jaw. “He said your blood is that of his queen. It smells like molded cherries to him.” He clears his throat. “He likes the smell.” Jack whips his head to Eric and growls. Eric rolls his eyes at him before he walks up the stairs. “I’ll be back.”

  I take a step forward to see the prisoner. Jack’s wings shoot out wide, and his iridescent green feathers field my vision. I push his right wing down, “Come on, Jack. You’re not getting anywhere with him, and he seems to want to talk to me.”

  Jack grunts, turning to me as his wings fold against his back. “Ten minutes. That’s it.”

  “Thanks.”

  He marches out of the basement, and I get my full view of the Fallen before me. Even though he is sitting in a steel chair with his arms secured to chains from the ground to his sides, his eyes are level with my own as I approach. Holy shit! He’s huge! Muscular shoulders span as wide as Eric and Jack standing together. His long, curly hair reaches just past his shoulders, framing his square, dark features covered in blood from his healing wounds. His smirk is almost too perfect as his large brows hood his deep red eyes, reminding me of Beleth. His dimpled grin pisses me off, and my rage grows the more he speaks.

  “An’ they were roi. De beauty outshines de blud.”

  I cross my arms over my chest as I stand a little straighter. “Who’s ‘they’?” He shrugs. I continuously shake my head in disbelief, “You know, my friends have a lot of different techniques for getting answers out of you. It’s obvious their attempts haven’t been working, but I highly doubt you want to piss me off. I’ll give you one chance to start talking. Why are you here?”

 

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