by Elise Faber
“For a second, I thought I might lose you,” he whispered. “I thought about every time I pushed you away, all of the cruel bullshit from the last few weeks. I swear to God, my heart stopped.”
They’d had a rough go of it as of late. Something sort of magical compulsion had worked its way into the minds of her friends, into Cody’s. It had warped thoughts and emotions, and as a result, he, along with almost everyone else she cared about in her life, had pushed her away. So far away, in fact, that she’d considered leaving and her bond with Cody had reached its breaking point.
It had been so close to snapping—to severing their connection and ending their ability to use magic.
They would have become human again.
Luckily, Cody had eventually fought through that fog. He’d come after her and they were working on rebuilding their relationship. But like all things, it wasn’t that simple. She’d been hurt by him, by his cruel words, how he’d pushed her away, how he’d blamed her for his sister’s capture and torture.
And she had been hurt too many times in her life to want a man in her life who’d treated her like that.
So she’d thought they were over.
Turned out, she couldn’t let go of Cody that easily.
“It’s fine—”
“No. I have to say this.” He cupped her face in his palms. “I am so sorry. I plan to spend every waking moment making it up to you. Every fiber of my being is yours, every fucking cell belongs to you—”
“I don’t want that!” She yanked her head away. Frustration flamed down her spine, pooling into her limbs, her clenched fists. “Of course I want you to care about me, to love me. But I want to be equals.” Her breath came in rapid bursts. “I’ve already been in a relationship that was unbalanced. I don’t want that with you. I love you, Cody. I appreciate the thought—”
“You appreciate the thought?” His face went hard. “I’m so fucking out of my mind that I want to pull you behind those trees and ravage you like a goddamned Viking and you appreciate the thought?”
His anger lightened her heart. It probably said something really bad about her that his frustration made her feel better. But this Cody—the intense warrior who stood up for what he believed in—was the man she’d fallen for.
“Okay, He-man. You’re missing the point.”
A breath rushed between his lips, and his arms clenched around her. “Which is what exactly?” he gritted out.
“That I love you enough to want more. That I don’t want us to lose who we are because we’re bonded.” She touched his cheek. “I want us to be better because we’re together, not worse.”
“But—”
“Feel.” She grabbed his hand and placed it on her chest above her breast. Her heart pounded rapidly. She wanted so desperately for him to understand that she wouldn’t push—that though his breadth of pain and suffering was larger than hers, she wouldn’t make him relive those memories frame by frame.
“I won’t force you to share whatever has hurt you so thoroughly, but I worry . . .”
“Worry about what?” He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek.
“That if we don’t know each other’s deepest darkest memories, don’t understand our respective fears and shortcomings, we won’t reach our full potential.” She sucked in a breath and shared one of the things she was most afraid of. “That we’ll be separated again.”
“I understand,” he said, after a long moment. “And I’ll try.”
“Is this where I say, ‘There is no try, only do?’”
His mouth curved at her cheesy movie reference, and she felt the tension begin to fade from the bond.
She leaned in, her lips finding his for a quick kiss. “I’ll even take a rain check for the Viking image. A fur around your shoulders. Maybe a loin cloth.”
"Shut up." His cheeks were tinged with the slightest bit of pink.
Then he slanted his mouth against hers and proceeded to kiss the teasing right out of her.
Four
A sharp noise penetrated Daughtry’s fog of arousal. Cody’s hands were on her butt, his chest flush against hers. He was hard to her soft and the only man who’d ever managed to make her forget her surroundings.
“Rightfully so,” he murmured.
She stepped back and Cody, trademark smirk in place, gave one final squeeze to her assets before letting her go. They walked into the clearing and located the source of the sound. His shoulders immediately went ramrod stiff.
“What’s this?” he asked.
Daughtry took in the group of Forgotten lined up in the clearing. Some held bags in hands, others had boxes at their feet.
“We’re going to the Colony,” Dominic said. He stood next to Laila and Brigette, face hard, his arms crossed, ready to do battle.
Perhaps he was.
“No,” Cody said. “You’re not.”
Dominic strode forward. “Because of you, our home is compromised.”
“Because of your own, your home is compromised. This isn’t our fault.” Cody didn’t back down when Dominic’s eyes flashed with anger, when his hands clenched into fists. “You’re not coming to the Colony.”
"Cody—" she thought. The Forgotten weren’t safe. They’d sheltered her and so it was only right for the Rengalla to protect them in return.
“No.” The word was terse. “No outsiders are allowed at the Colony.”
“We’re not outsiders,” Dominic said, the words not quite a shout but filled with emotion. He strode over to them. “We exist because of you.”
“We didn’t do those experiments.”
“You failed to prevent them,” Dominic snapped. “You failed to find us after the fact. We wouldn’t have even known you still existed if not for Daughtry and the people who brought her here the first time.”
“Not my problem.”
“Oh really?” Dominic shoved Cody, who hardly moved. “Then whose? If you won’t shelter us for a few weeks, then give us the resources to start over.” His voice dropped. “We’ve scraped by for decades, barely avoiding the Dalshie. At least let us have a fighting chance.”
“Cody,” she thought softly, knowing that while the Rengalla were extremely secular and protective of their own, that they had great difficulty bucking tradition, that they also were good at doing the right thing.
This—letting the Forgotten come to the Colony—was the right thing.
Cody held Dominic’s eyes for a long moment before his gaze moved over the crowd of Forgotten. He cursed. Daughtry knew he was seeing the same things she was. A group of people fighting for the right to survive. To live.
It was impossible to turn away.
“You think I like begging for scraps?” Dominic said, the words bitter, splinters under fingernails. “Let me clear it up for you: I don’t. But help. Please God, help.”
There was a long beat of silence.
Then, “Morgan?” Cody asked.
The triplet nodded. “On it.”
A burst of light, and Morgan was gone.
Dominic stood, hands fisted, his face severe. “What now?”
“Now we wait for an answer,” Cody said.
“You’re putting us in the basement?” Dominic asked a few hours later. The forty or so Forgotten milled around in the large open space, where emergency cots and provisions had been laid out.
Dante sighed and glanced at Daughtry.
The lines around his mouth and eyes were deepened with exhaustion. His T-shirt was filthy and the neat ponytail he normally wrangled his shoulder-length hair into was askew.
She wanted to tell Dominic to stop being ungrateful, that he should be happy that the Rengalla had taken them in at all.
Except the room was looking pretty sad. The cream walls were barren, the cots from when bell-bottoms had been popular.
But they were safe. That was most important.
“It’s the best place for now,” Dante told Dominic. “We have the rooms where we can put you, eventually, but man
y of them do not have furniture or linens. And the basement is directly next to the exit route.” He fixed Dominic with a knowing stare. “Given that you and none of your people are familiar with the evacuation plan, I believe the best place for you is here. If and when the Dalshie come back, the goal is to get the civilians out safely.”
“You don’t trust us.” Dominic’s dark eyes were flat.
Dante shrugged. “I don’t trust you.” Daughtry felt her jaw drop open at the revelation, then gape further at his next words. “But I do trust Dee. If she vouches for you, then you can stay.”
She was so shocked that she hadn’t even sensed Cody come up behind her. “Why are you surprised, cowgirl?” he whispered. “You have a place here. You’re wanted. You’re one of us.”
The words sewed themselves into her heart, even as a part of her didn’t believe them. If they all had trusted her so much, they wouldn’t have treated her so cruelly, wouldn’t have pushed her away, wouldn’t have said such hurtful things over the last month. She’d been at her wit’s end, shocked by the sudden transformation. Except—
Cody’s twisted thoughts. Suz’s personality shift. John’s distance. Tyler’s stained palm.
They were all connected. They had to be.
But how? What power was tainting the minds of those closet to her?
“What’s going on in that brain of yours?” Cody thought. “It might as well be a tornado for how clear your thoughts are.”
“Just thinking,” she sent back, only half-listening to Dominic and Dante hammer out details.
The Forgotten wouldn’t be confined, but Dante had a list of six or so places he wanted them to avoid. Considering that one of them was the armory, Daughtry couldn’t fault the logic.
A small hand slipped into hers. “Are we really staying here?” Laila asked.
“You have Herman?” Daughtry had learned that Laila had a small stuffed bear called Herman. The toy was brown and incredibly soft, with two glass eyes and a sweet expression.
And so cute that Daughtry almost wanted one for herself.
"You can cuddle with me instead," Cody thought.
"Shh. Dominic can hear you remember?"
"Let him listen."
Daughtry rolled her eyes then continued her conversation with Laila.
“He’s right here.” Tiny fingers held up the battered teddy bear.
“Good,” she told the little girl. “Herman will stay on your bed with you. This is only for a few days. We weren’t expecting you, so the rooms aren’t ready.”
“How many days?” The look Laila pinned her with was fierce.
“Three,” she said and hoped it was true.
Hell, she’d make it so. Even if she had to drag the mattresses down the corridors herself.
Laila considered that for a moment. When it looked as though she might protest, Daughtry threw out, “Are you hungry? I bet the cafeteria has cookies.”
“Cookies?” Brown eyebrows drew down into a frown. “Are they chocolate chip?”
Daughtry felt her lips twist up into a smile. “Is there another kind?”
After telling the girl to go find Brigette, she turned to Dominic and Dante. “I think that’s enough for today,” she said during a brief pause in their negotiations. To Dominic, “Your people are tired, hungry. We might not be able to give them private rooms, but we can fill their bellies.”
She turned to Dante. “If Dominic gives you a list of how many people and rooms they need, can you come up with a block of rooms that will be acceptable? I’ll work with the Forgotten tomorrow to get them cleaned up. We can order whatever else we need.”
Hopefully it really would only take a few days to get everything the Forgotten needed.
Daughtry knew what it was like to feel as though she didn’t belong, to not have a place that was hers. She meant to see that the Forgotten got their place as quickly as possible.
Approval radiated down the bond and she sent Cody a mental smile.
Dante and Dominic both agreed, nodding to one another before heading to their respective corners.
"Heads up," Cody thought, laughter in his voice. "Two admirers heading your way."
“Ugh.”
"I can still hear you," Dominic thought. When Daughtry looked up, he gave her wink from across the room.
"Shut up," Cody told him.
Eric and Stephen’s gazes were glued on the tile floor. “We’re sorry,” they told her.
Cody switched to using his verbal voice instead of the mental one. “Sorry for what?” The two words were as sharp as icicles poised on a cave ceiling, ready to fall at the slightest provocation. He turned to the boys and asked, “What did you do?”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see the danger in Cody’s tones, his body. He was coiled strength, ready to snap. Eric and Stephen crumpled, ready to slink back to the corner from which they had come.
Eric risked a look over his shoulder, probably hoping for an escape route.
Dominic shook his head.
The gulp from the teenager’s throat was loud. He nudged Stephen who had been immobilized when Cody had first turned the power of his frigid emerald eyes onto him.
“Stop it,” she said, swatting him on the shoulder. “It was no big deal.”
The boys relaxed but Cody didn’t. “Every time you say it was nothing, it turns out to be a big thing.”
She frowned.
“Face it, cowgirl. I know you.” A quick smirk in her direction before he turned back to the boys. “Own up.”
The words tumbled out, the boys explaining about how they’d been ordered to kidnap her by another member of the Forgotten, how they were sorry for hurting her and knocking her unconscious—Daughtry, who had already forgiven them for that lapse in judgment, thought that particular fact had been an unfortunate one to share.
Cody’s anger swelled up along the bond, threatened to burst. Then it froze, hardening into an impenetrable shell.
"Let me do this," he thought. And she felt that it was a caution to not only her, but Dominic as well.
“Cody?” she asked, concerned.
“I need to do this.”
He grabbed the two boys by their scruffs and dragged them from the room.
Five
Daughtry watched as Cody frog-marched the two teenagers across the room and out the basement door.
"What are you going to do to them?"
"Teach them a lesson," Cody thought.
“You don’t think he’ll actually hurt them, do you?”
She turned to Dominic and shook her head. “Scare the crap out of them, sure. Hurt, never.”
"Not much anyway."
"Cody!" she thought. But relaxed when she took note of his emotions and saw that though his anger was intense, his calm was stronger.
“Come on,” she said to Laila and Brigette who’d tentatively approached after the spectacle. Dominic trailed them as they walked out of the basement and into the corridors.
Laila wrinkled her nose. “This place is dirty.”
Daughtry remembered the first time she’d come to the Colony, how the magical glamour made what was expensive luxury look like dollar bin specials. The walls had appeared stained, the carpet something out of a science experiment.
“It’ll look better soon.”
Brigette and Dominic both gave her an odd look while Laila accepted the explanation without argument.
She led the way through the maze of hallways to the cafeteria, knew it would be easy for the newcomers to get lost. The glamour made every wall look the same, and so she made Brigette and Laila promise to wait for her to return after they’d finished their cookies.
“I have to say,” Daughtry said once she and Dominic were on their way again. “I’m surprised that the glamour works on you guys. I just assumed that you’d see right through it.”
“Is that what this is?” he said, nodding to a stretch of wall.
She wondered what he saw. For her, it was a mural that one of the Re
ngalla had created. There was magic stored in the almost three-dimensional images, magic which was used to power the Colony.
Whoever had created that particular one was talented, the depiction of a small sailboat bouncing along the waves realistic.
“Yes. To discourage visitors,” she added with a smile. “You should see the exterior.”
Dominic smiled. They’d been teleported directly into the underground parking garage and while Daughtry remembered the space as looking largely unappealing—with stained concrete and caged fluorescent lights—it wasn’t on par with the grungy hallways.
Until she’d been approved by the Council, she’d doubted the sanity of the Rengalla. Luxury cars and planes but disgusting living quarters?
Then Caroline—or Elisabeth, she supposed—had unlocked the barriers around her mind, released her powers and she’d been able to see what the Colony was.
Understated elegance. Clean lines, hardwood floors, and crystal chandeliers. Even the most basic room surpassed the nicest place that she’d ever lived. She had always assumed that the removal of the blocks was what had allowed her to see.
But as far as she knew, Dominic didn’t have blocks.
So what did that mean about her?
"Caroline—or Elisabeth rather, placed the ability into your mind when she released your powers. It’s a relatively simple piece of magic. Basically a lens that allows your eyes to focus past the false images the glamour projects." Cody’s voice had lost its earlier edge.
That gave Daughtry a moment of pause. Because it had been Elisabeth, not Caroline, who’d been in her mind, who’d implanted the magic into her brain.
Elisabeth who was a Dalshie, who used black magic.
Was that darkness pinging around in her subconscious even now? Waiting for the moment when she used her powers again to infect her? Or more frightening, perhaps, was that notion that if Caroline had implanted the magic into her mind, could she have also put in other things in other Rengalla’s minds.