The Holy Trinity Trilogy

by Madeline Sheehan

  “Xan is fine, stop worrying.”

  “Nico! Dammit, he’s not fine!”

  Goddamn Becki. Just goddamn her. Someone needed to sew her lips shut. Or cut out her tongue.

  “Hate to break it you, fată, but frate’s been an asshole since his tată pulled a disappearing act out of his hat. This is nothing new.”

  A bitter smile ghosted across his lips. There were three things he did not talk about, three things people did not talk about in his presence. Number one was his tată. Number two was what he had done for a living before the world went to shit. Number three, the latest addition, was her.

  “You’re his friend, his best friend, now that Shandor’s gone. You need to do something!”

  His fists clenched. He should add Shandor to the list.

  “Becki, I don’t know what you want me to do. Frate isn’t going to listen to anything I have to say.”

  Smart man, Nico.

  “But –”

  “NO! Xan married Trinity. Xan. Married. That in itself tells you how much he loves her. Then she left him for Gerik. Ain’t no words gonna fix that kind of hurt.”

  “Being kidnapped is not the same as taking off.”

  “Do particulars really matter? Gerik never hid his hard-on for Trinity, or the fact that he needed her for more than just a cock warmer. Frate needed her to keep breathing! So whether he took her or she went willingly, she’s still gone! And you can bet Gerik ain’t gonna let his lifeline go anywhere anytime soon.”

  “Trinity did not love Gerik, you idiot! She loved Xan and you know it! She was constantly blushing around him, and when she wasn’t around him she had that idiotic smile plastered on her face! What does that tell you, huh? And when he left, it killed her! She barely got out of bed and she cried all the time!”

  He closed his eyes and prayed for strength. This was not the sort of shit he needed to hear right now. No way in hell was he going to move forward if he was constantly being reminded of how she had pretended to love him. How she’d had everyone fooled.

  Nico’s voice lowered and softened. “Becki, you need to admit what’s really going on here. You’re masking your own grief by trying to save Xan. You lost Hockey, you lost your mamӑ and you lost Trinity. Xan’s not the only one who needs to start dealing with it.”

  “You fuck,” she whispered.

  Right on, Becki. You tell him.

  After a few moments of silence, he walked around the corner and burst out laughing.

  Becki screeched in embarrassment and tried to pull away, but Nico was not having it. Gripping her head, he shoved his tongue right back inside of her mouth.

  “That’s a damn good way to shut her up, frate. I’ll have to remember it.” As he walked by, he swatted Becki on her bottom.

  Still laughing, he entered the Horváth’s smoky, sweaty, den of sin and sex.

  Being part of the carnival circuit and following dirt bike racing around the country, he was no stranger to hardcore partying…outside of camp. Inside camp, the younger generations had their parents, their grandparents, and sometimes their great grandparents to contend with, not to mention the numerous children.

  Needless to say, no hardcore partying.

  Things change when the world ends, your families are brutally murdered and you are stuck living in a bubble twenty-four seven.

  He took a seat on the couch next to Pesha and surveyed the damage. To his right, at the end of the hallway, Gunnar's bedroom door was half-open, revealing Gunnar sprawled on his bed with Adriana Siwak riding the hell out of him. He took a moment to appreciate the bounce of a nice pair of tits and moved on.

  Fifi, her sister Tsuritsa, Loiza Siwak, Indiana Bálan, Stevo Sava and Nicu were seated around the kitchen table passing bottles of Gin, smoking Gunnar's special blend and playing poker with a twist. Almost every hand played ended with another article of clothing removed, one of which just landed on his head. He pulled the lacy blue bra off him and grinned at Fifi. Fata could have been a super model if she would have grown passed five foot nothing.

  The door opened, letting out a downpour of smoke and letting in Becki and Nico. Becki looked decidedly uncomfortable at the sight of her naked brother fondling an equally naked Tsuritsa.

  Magdolna, the youngest of the Horváth triplets, stumbled out of the bathroom laughing. “Guess what I just did?”

  Fifi rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, you peed in the toilet…again?”

  She nodded, giggling.

  Fifi shook her head. “You’re cleaning out the tank tomorrow, soră.”

  Catching sight of Nico, Mags bounced across the trailer, shrieking.

  “Hey baby,” she purred, giving him a very, very friendly kiss that Nico graciously accepted and reciprocated.

  From Becki to Mags in only a matter of seconds – now that was the Nico he knew.

  Becki spared a few seconds to gape at the two of them before grabbing and yanking on Nico’s arm, effectively untangling him from Mags.

  Then she slapped him across the face.

  “You are a disgusting pig, Nico Čonka!”

  Whirling around, she marched back across the RV and left, leaving Nico staring dumbly after her. Then he shrugged and resumed kissing the wiggling triplet in his arms.

  Well…that was interesting. But not interesting enough for him to dwell on for more than two point five seconds.

  Grabbing the jug out of Pesha’s hands, he took a long swallow and choked.

  “What the fuck?” he yelled. “This is Pitti’s brew!”

  Glassy-eyed, Pesha stared at him. “Yeah? And?”

  Yeah, he was a bastard, but he was not such a bastard that he would steal liquor from a kid who had lost his entire family. Even if it was the best liquor he’d tasted in a while.

  “Nothing,” he muttered and handed the jug back to him. “Drink up.”

  Since Pesha was being a whole lot of no fun, he headed for the kitchen table, scooped up a half-naked Fifi and settled down in her chair, placing her on his lap. Slipping her arms around his waist, she nuzzled his neck. “You okay, baby?”

  He wasn’t gonna lie. “Nope.” He also wasn’t going to keep letting all these assholes in here stare at her tits. Fishing through the pile of clothing on the table, he found her tee shirt and slipped it over her head. A collective groan followed, which he answered with a glaring stare.

  “Anything I can do, baby?” Her tongue shot out and licked its way up his neck. “Any part of you I can do?”

  He stared down at her. “You deserve better than me. Better than what I can give you. Didn’t last time teach you anything?”

  She snorted. “Xan, we both deserve better than one another. But we’re not gonna get it, not now, not ever.”

  He played surprised and tickled her. “Fată, who could possibly be better than you?”

  She stared up at him with those big, brown doe eyes of hers, seeing far more than he wanted her to. Clearing his throat, he glanced away. Now was not the time for a Xan pity party.

  “Take me to bed, Xan,” she said softly. “Let me make it better for a little while. You can think about whoever you want.”

  He was tempted. More than tempted. But, he wouldn’t be there with Fifi; he would be thinking of her. This, despite what she said, wasn’t at all fair to Fifi. He was better off with Nadya; at least with her he wasn’t blurring the lines to a great friendship by adding meaningless sex into the mix.

  “If he’s not gonna go, I will,” Nicu said, leering at Fifi.

  She laughed at him. “You’d never make it past the door.”

  His brown eyes swept hungrily over her body. “You ever gonna give another frate a chance?”

  “Nope,” she said, getting to her feet and stretching. “And speaking of chances…Xan?”

  “Hmm?”

  She leaned in to give him a kiss. “Spend the night.”

  He kissed her back, momentarily losing himself in the familiar recesses of her mouth, before pulling away.

  “Love you,
kid, “ he said and smiled sadly at her.

  As she turned, heading for her room, Nicu’s hand shot out, aiming for her backside.

  Xan caught his wrist just in time and bent it backwards. Nicu shouted out in pain.

  “What the fuck?” he growled, releasing him. “Don’t you ever touch her.”

  Nicu’s eyes flared with anger. “Are you ever gonna let her be with someone else?”

  He stared at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Even after you got married, Fifi wouldn’t even consider being with someone else! You’ve got her wrapped around your little finger!”

  Whoa. He was a little taken aback by the venom frate was spouting.

  “Nicu,” he said evenly. “Fata does what she wants. I have never, EVER, pulled her strings. And I’m a little fucking pissed that you would even suggest I would.”

  Nicu glared at him. “Yeah…sorry,” he muttered.

  He watched him carefully. He didn’t look the least bit sorry. Nico was right; frate was acting out of character.

  Shoving out of his chair, he stared angrily down at him. “She’s mine, Nicu. By her own choice. Meaning, you cannot fucking touch her. You’d do well to remember that.”

  Nicu’s face tightened.

  “I know shit’s been hard on everyone, frate, but I catch you sniffing around her again, I’ll fucking break you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I slammed closed the book I had been reading and threw it across the bedroom. I was so sick of this book! Seriously, who would be dumb enough to fall in love with a vampire? An old vampire! I don’t care how young he looks! It’s like getting it on with somebody’s great-great-grandpa who’s had a few face-lifts!

  And on top of it, to want to turn into a vampire in order to be intimate with them? And having to drink blood? Nothing but blood. Not even a glass of water!

  Did Skin Eaters drink water? I should have asked Shandor.

  Not that I thought Skin Eaters were vampires, but there were similarities. And I sure as Hades wasn’t going to be falling in love with a Skin Eater any time soon. Stupid book.

  I rolled onto my back, let my head hang off the bed, and watched the snow fall upside down. It hadn’t stopped snowing for weeks and if it kept up like this, the snow would reach my windowsill within a matter of days.

  I was so bored, despite my “How Trinity Beats Her Cabin Fever” routine.

  I worked out every morning now, jogging in place, doing sit-ups, pushups and jumping jacks until I would collapse from exhaustion. Then I would eat, read, boil snow for a bath, take said bath, dump the dirty water outside, eat again, and read…again.

  By nightfall, after I had eaten dinner, I would write in my diary. I didn’t know the date, so I instead tracked my entries with:

  Winter: Day One,

  Winter: Day Two, etc…

  I would record the number of jumping jacks or sit ups I did that day, record what I ate, read, and re-read, then I would just write. My feelings, my thoughts, whatever was milling around up there in my mind. It went a long way to helping stave some of the bone-deep loneliness I was struggling through.

  It was also a way to have a sense of time in a world where it no longer existed. It was my calendar, my clock, my boyfriend, my best friend and my therapist all rolled into one.

  If it were not for my diary, I would probably be sitting in a corner, rocking back and forth, muttering incomprehensibly. Or watching a blank television screen.

  When monotony got the better of me, which it always eventually did, I would put on nearly every article of clothing I owned and venture outside.

  Like today. Fed up with my book and just in time to watch the sunrise, I left my cabin and went trudging through the knee-deep snow. As I passed by the last cabin in my warded section of the park and stepped through the wards, I felt it.

  A slight brush of power that tickled my skin.

  I inhaled and nearly choked on my surprise.

  Christmas. It smelled like Christmas.

  I took another heavy breath and drew into my lungs the heady aromas of sticky sweet fresh pine and thick, pungent cinnamon. My body’s reaction was instantaneous. A desperate itch inside my veins, a magnetic pull of flesh, blood and bone, a damning urge, and incomprehensible need.

  All things I’d felt before.

  I spun around, peering into the vast, snow-covered forest surrounding me and found nothing out of the ordinary.

  My heart pounding furiously in my chest, I took a few tentative steps. Then a few more. The further forward I moved, the more the covetous longing inside of me would grow until I was fully engulfed inside a heavy veil of magic. Magic that called out to my magic, making the power under my skin ripple with waves of excitement.

  I sucked in a breath. The magic I was feeling wasn’t calling to my magic. It was my magic.

  It all happened so fast. One second I was standing in the middle of an otherwise empty state park and the next I was looking up at a face, no less breathtaking than the last time I had seen it.

  I pushed up my ski mask and stared.

  The glittering black scales that had only partially covered his chest and arms had spread. Now they coated one entire arm, half his abdomen, the large expanse of his chest and his entire neck. His horns looked longer, and thicker. His light blonde hair had lengthened, the ends dipped in midnight. Enormous black bat-like wings towered over him, the tips brushing against the snowy floor. In one swift movement they collapsed and tucked in behind him

  Wait, had he grown? Yes. He had grown considerably since I had last seen him.

  Bewildered, I sunk down into the snow, oblivious to the cold.

  “Gerik,” I breathed.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Xan had refused to leave the Horváth”s until Nicu left, which unfortunately had not been until early morning. Dead tired and sexually spent from Fifi’s attempts at making him feel better, he made it halfway through camp when someone stepped out of the shadows. He groaned. Fata was the last person on earth he wanted to deal with right now.

  “You gotta cigarette?”

  “Onyx, you know better than to talk to me."

  "I don’t know what your problem is with me, Deleanu. If you hadn’t gone after her, she would have died out there and neither of us would be so fucking miserable right now.”

  He looked at her. Really looked at her instead of ignoring her like the rest of the clan did. For trying to get her killed, she had been banished. However, in lieu of certain apocalyptic circumstances she had been allowed to remain in camp. Nevertheless, the clan was to treat her as if she had gone.

  She had always been rail thin but she looked damn near invisible now. Her short black hair had grown out and was now significantly past her shoulders, greasy, limp and dirty. Her clothes were way too big for her and gave the appearance that she was drowning in a sea of cotton and denim.

  He snorted. “Fată, that failsafe plan of yours would have only worked if I hadn’t already loved her when you decided to feed her to the natives.”

  “Whatever,” she muttered.

  “Yeah, whatever. Are you so fuckin’ dumb that you actually think Gerik would have had anything to do with you if you had killed his soul mate?”

  Christ, that had been hard to say. But it was true. She was Gerik’s. Not his. Gerik’s. Not his. Never his. With the heel of his palm, he rubbed his aching chest.

  “Just give me a cigarette,” she whispered, looking anywhere but at him.

  Eh. What the hell. He gave her a pity cigarette and turned away.

  The telltale sound of liquor sloshing back and forth in a bottle stopped him dead in his tracks.

  Onyx was dangling a nearly full bottle of Jack Daniels and a fat blunt in front of his face. “I’m not adverse to sharing, băiat.”

  “Good,” he sneered. “Saves me from having to knock you out.” He turned to go.

  “Deleanu…”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t say it was fr
ee.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What the fuck do you want, Onyx?”

  “Not to be…alone…for just a little while.”

  His nostrils flared at her insinuation.

  “Why me?” He bit out.

  She shrugged. “You’re a brokenhearted whore with a bad temper and a drinking problem.”

  He glared at her. “That doesn’t mean I’ll fuck you.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “It doesn’t?”

  He wanted to tell her to fuck off. And he almost did. Almost. Only, she was right. For as long as he could remember he had dealt with the bullshit life threw at him one of three ways.

  Fucking.

  Drinking.

  Fighting.

  “Your place or mine, Deleanu?”

  Feeling every inch the whore she was treating him as, but wanting that bottle of Jack more than he cared to admit, he grabbed her bicep and yanked her forward. “My place,” he growled.

  At least he would be comfortable on his journey to hell.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  While Gerik stood, stone-faced, near the front door, I stripped off my wet clothes and laid them out in front of the stove. He had not said a word to me since he had descended on me in the woods like the angel of death. It looked like I was going to have to make the first move. After wrapping a blanket around myself, I plopped down on my futon and sighed.

  “Are you lost, Gerik? I have a map if you need one.”

  He went rigid. His giant, black wings flexed behind him, draping him in shadows and a muscle twitched irritably near his jaw.

  “Can I get you anything?” I asked in a saccharine sweetened voice. “Coffee, tea, a soul mate? Some dark magic, perhaps? Or maybe a one-way ticket to Hades on earth without a guide?”

  If looks could kill, I would be dragon fodder. I guess he had expected a more receptive greeting.

  “I didn’t know they were going to leave you behind.”

  Gods, his voice had seriously deepened.

  I smirked. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn’t.”