The Holy Trinity Trilogy

by Madeline Sheehan

  After leaving Kris Court and Onyx to her fate, he was headed back to Trinity when he heard Gerik yelling and immediately changed directions. Lately, if Gerik was strung out, Trinity was usually around.

  As he neared the grouping of trees that grew near the creek, he could make out Gerik, towering over her.

  “I could take you anyway, yeah? Maybe it will still work. Maybe you haven’t ruined every—”

  Fuck this shit. He was done with Gerik’s obsession with Trinity. Stepping out of the shadows, he pulled his piece and aimed for the fucker’s head. “You’ll have to kill me first,” he told him flat out.

  He kept his eyes on Gerik, waiting, readying for even the slightest of movements.

  Gerik stared back at him, his rage evident. They were both ready to end this shit, right here, right now. But unlike him, Gerik was wearing his indecision like a goddamn hat. Frate had a terrible poker face.

  “I should have killed you the first time you looked at her like she was something other than mine!” Gerik bellowed and the ground trembled beneath them.

  “She’s a person, frate,” he said calmly. “Not a pair of shoes.”

  Gerik howled at the top of his lungs. “I am not your brother,” he roared. The scent of magic in the air thickened and a blast of wind tore through camp, nearly knocking him over.

  Trinity was turned away from Gerik, obviously more worried about him than Gerik. This was fine with him. Because of that, she never once noticed the dagger he’d underhandedly imbedded in Gerik’s right hand during the magic mini windstorm, effectively ending it. Frate had since pulled it out and tossed it aside.

  “You were once. Remember?” he said this with a wink, trying to bait Gerik into attacking again. This time, he would kill him.

  Then he glanced at Trinity and, knowing how much it would piss Gerik off, said, “And you were right. What you said that night…I do love her.” Looking back to Gerik, he had to fight a grin. Frate was beyond furious. Time to go in for the kill. “So you see,” he drawled, “You will have to kill me, because the only way I’m letting her go is if my heart no longer beats.”

  They stared at one another for a long time. He could practically see the wheels turning inside Gerik’s head, as he weighed his options. He knew the moment frate realized he had been cornered. Without another word, Gerik turned around and walked away. And kept walking, past the wards and into the woods.

  He grabbed Trinity’s shaking hand and tugged her up against him. “You okay, fată?”

  Eyes wide, she shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

  Right. First things first. He would take her home, make her feel better, and then he would tell her they were married.

  Maybe.

  Probably not.

  "Do you have any idea what it felt like to be used for sex because he couldn't get the Gaje to spread her legs? But I took what I could get. Because, for a little while, it meant he was back in my arms."

  What? Onyx was still here? What had happened to his hand job?

  “Woman, if we’re not going to fuck, I’m not entirely sure why you’re still here.”

  She flashed her straight, white teeth at him right before she took him into her mouth.

  Ah. His brain stalled out.

  The bitch kept him teetering on the edge of release until he couldn't take it anymore and grabbed her, yanking her up and over him. Laughing, she straddled his hips, and slammed her body down around his.

  Oh, fuck him. This crazy bitch could sure as hell fuck.

  “I bet you’ve wondered who’s bigger. Or better.” She grinned maliciously. “You or Gerik…”

  “You are such a goddamn psychopath,” he bit out, trying not to groan while she viciously rocked her hips.

  Laughing, she began to move faster. “Not at all curious, huh?”

  “Shut up,” he growled. Grabbing her bony, protruding hips, he thrust up into her as hard as he could. Her grunt of pain bled into a moan of pleasure.

  Not good enough. He wanted to cause pain. He wanted to cause her pain. He was so fucking sick of hurting; it was time for her to hurt.

  Roughly flipping her onto her back he took top and powered into her as hard as he could. Green eyes blinked up at him, shining with amusement. His nostrils flared. She was laughing at him. Laughing because she'd played him. Laughing because he'd loved her and she’d never loved him back.

  He grabbed a handful of her hair and roughly yanked her head to the side. “You stupid, motherfucking whore,” he choked out.

  Crazy-eyed and grinning, she slapped him across the face. She slapped him again and again and again until he could no longer restrain himself and he backhanded her. Hard. Her wide, green eyes filled with tears and a surge of pleasure shot through him.

  “More,” she panted, sounding hysterical. “Make it hurt, Xan…please, please make it hurt!”

  They attacked each other, slapped each other red and raw, clawed and bit each other bruised and bloody. He was sure he’d lost some hair. He knew she had. And yet, it wasn’t enough. He wanted pain. He wanted to forget. He wanted…

  “Kill me,” he rasped, slapping her face to the side, then squeezing her cheeks, forcing her to look at him.

  “Please. Fucking. Kill. Me.” And in that one moment, he had meant it.

  “I’m trying,” she screamed, clawing at his neck, shredding his skin. “Believe me, I’m trying!”

  “You’re not trying hard enough,” he growled. Flipping her onto her stomach, he shoved her face into his pillow and, without preamble, brutally took her backside. She screamed and she laughed as she bucked wildly beneath him.

  “Harder,” she cried, openly sobbing now. “HURT ME!” she screamed.

  He did as she asked even as tears burned in his eyes. He was so far gone, so lost inside his pain, he was quickly succumbing to the looming madness that had been waiting months for his guard to be down so it could slip inside and take root in his mind.

  With every scream that he’d forced past her lips, every slap of flesh, every whimper, every tear and grunt of pain, with every drop of blood spilled, he felt pieces of himself begin to wither away and die.

  He had hit rock bottom.

  And he wasn't sure he had the strength to climb back up again.

  When they’d exhausted themselves, were unable to move, and Onyx - not her – was wrapped around his body, clinging to him like a lifeline and sobbing in his arms…he felt like a husk of a man.

  Empty. Cold. Shattered.

  Alone.

  Always alone.

  “Shh, I got you. Don’t cry, fată, I got you, I fuckin’ got you,” he whispered hoarsely, trying to comfort Onyx, not because he cared, but because if he focused for too long on himself, he might not live to see another day.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “You can’t leave me again,” I whispered.

  Gerik’s head snapped up and his nostrils flared. “Never.”

  A tear slipped out of the corner of my eye. Then another. Then I was crying in earnest. And he was kissing me, cradling my face between his hands and kissing me as if his life depended on it.

  And maybe it did. Maybe both our lives depended on...right now.

  Pushing me backwards, he crawled over top of me, already tearing open his jeans. There would be no foreplay. Gerik was done waiting and was ready to take what I had long denied him.

  Oh gods. He was huge. “Wait,” I gasped as he began to move. I was so full…of him; I could feel everything, every detail of his sex as it slid through mine. The sensations were too much…too much…something, everything, I didn’t know.

  “Trinity,” he snarled, gripping my chin, forcing me too look at him. “I’ve waited thirty years for you, I’m not waiting anymore. I can’t wait anymore.”

  “Okay,” I squeaked, a little overwhelmed by him. He looked wild, fearsome and so beautiful.

  Gerik didn’t just have sex with me, he released a lifetime of pent up need and nearly a year of repressed pain into our joining. I
could do nothing but hold on to him as the hurricane he’d become whipped around me, taking and taking, stripping me bare.

  And when he came, I came...and something shifted inside of me…and I knew that I had been waiting my entire life for this moment, for this man.

  His emotions had poured into me as hard and as fast as he had been moving inside of my body. I had seen myself through Gerik’s eyes, felt myself through Gerik’s touches and knew he had experienced the same.

  What lie between us was more than just lust or love. It was more than just two bodies coming together in haze of desire. Our destiny went soul deep, had been written in the stars long before either of us had been born. We truly were at the mercy of nature and what nature was demanding of me I could no longer deny. Had no desire to deny.

  We made love again and again. My peaks were his, his were mine. Every glorious feeling cascaded back and forth between us as if we had become a single entity.

  Trinity?

  Gerik’s fingers whispered across my back, tracing my scars from a Skin Eater attack.

  Exhausted, sore and sweaty, it took the last of my energy to roll over and face him.

  He gazed at me with barely restrained hunger, ready to take me again. He was insatiable. Inexhaustible. No man could possibly be…

  Gerik wasn’t a man anymore. Not even close.

  Trinity?

  My eyes widened. He wasn’t speaking aloud. He was speaking… No, he wasn’t even speaking. He was thinking. Feeling. And I could hear his thoughts.

  He grinned and I melted. That grin was going to be the death of me. Or at least the death of my lower half.

  No regrets?

  No, I thought, testing out this new and unexpected ability of ours. Not at all.

  His wing shot out and curled down around my body, draping me in darkness and warmth. His tongue slipped inside of my mouth and began to softly stroke my own.

  I love you, Trinity.

  Gods did he ever. His love blanketed me in passion and comfort and…the safety only a home can give.

  I love you, too.

  The sudden, unexpected emotion astonished me. But I’d meant it, gods I’d meant it. If Gerik was surprised, he didn’t show it, didn’t pause in his exploration of my mouth. I, however, was reeling. How could this have happened so quickly? How could I be in love with Xan…and Gerik? And why does it feel as if I’d always loved Gerik, loved him before I’d met him, loved him beyond even that?

  Gerik, I think…I think I have always loved you.

  He pulled away to look at me. “I know, Trinity. I have always known. But it sure as hell took you long enough to figure it out.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Xan pushed his way into the food tent where nearly everyone was gathered, despite the freezing temperatures, to celebrate Daniella's sixth birthday. He hadn’t planned on attending, but after the morning he’d had, he would do anything to keep his mind off what he’d done. After Onyx had left his trailer, he had made a promise to himself. Actually, several promises. First, he was done with the heavy drinking. Second, he was done with the women. All of them. Third, he was done feeling sorry for himself. From now own, he was going to make a valiant effort to start pulling his weight around camp. The clan had been more than generous, allowing him to wallow for as long as he had. He hadn’t been the only Gypsy who had lost family and friends, far from it. It was time to man up and start doing his part.

  Shoving past the thick crowd of celebrators, he finally reached Daniella.

  “Happy Birthday, fată,” he said softly, placing a purple beaded necklace he had made for her, around Daniella’s neck. She fingered the small wooden beads, grinning.

  “These are Trinny's,” she said, looking curiously up at him.

  “Yeah,” he choked out. “And she loves you. They’re from her, too.”

  “I want to look like her when I grow up,” she continued. ”Do you think I will?”

  God, he really hoped not. It was hard enough thinking about her…

  “Yep,” he said quickly. Giving her a quick kiss on her messy mop of brown hair, he headed straight for Gunnar.

  “Gimme,” he said, taking his canteen and chugging down the nastiest fermented fruit and yeast concoction he had ever tasted. He would ease up on the booze…tomorrow.

  Becki appeared out of nowhere. “You came. I'm glad.”

  He ignored her. Mostly because she had this annoying habit of knowing how he was feeling just by looking at him and the last thing he wanted was her to figure out what he’d done today and who he had done it with.

  “Hey, fată,” Nico drawled, sidling up next to Becki and draping his arm over her shoulders.

  She swatted him. “Don’t touch me.”

  “But you’re so…” He smacked his lips at her. “Touchable.”

  “Don’t talk to me either,” she hissed.

  He grinned. “I don’t want to talk to you, I want to touch you.” He bent his head down and whispered against her neck, “Everywhere.”

  Becki’s pupils dilated and a small shiver shook her. Fata could pretend she wasn’t affected by Nico but the body doesn’t lie.

  “Mmm-hmm. Baby, I know you want it. I know I sure as hell want it. Last time was so damn hot.”

  Last time? Gaping at them, the cigarette he’d been in the process of lighting slipped from between his lips and fell into the soft dusting of snow that had blown inside the food tent.

  Becki shoved him off her. “That’s irrelevant, Nico. If you want to get laid I’m sure Mags will be happy to accommodate you.”

  Nico frowned. “But I don’t want Mags.”

  She scowled. “You did last night.”

  “She kissed me,” he protested.

  “You kissed her back,” Becki reminded him.

  Nico looked affronted. “I’m only human.”

  While Becki contemplated ways to castrate Nico, Xan leaned over and whispered in his friend’s ear, “Frate, you keep talking and you’re not gonna have a cock to fuck her with.”

  Nico shut up. Wise.

  “To Daniella!” Tobar shouted.

  “To Daniella!” The clan answered.

  Two clan members held open the tent flaps and Aishe strode in carrying a homemade cake. Nothing fancy. No frosting, no candles, just a plain, bare, rectangle of cake that he suspected had very little sugar in it, if any at all. But Daniella didn’t care. She looked damn happy and that was all that really mattered anyway.

  “Cine să trăiască?” They all sang.

  “Cine să trăiască?

  La mulţi ani!

  Daniella să trăiască!

  Danielle să trăiască!

  La mulţă ani!”

  “Xan?” Fifi walked up to their small group, her hands on her hips. “Guess what Loiza just told me?”

  “That he’s a faggot?” he guessed.

  Her eyes narrowed. “No. That he saw Onyx leaving your trailer today.”

  Oh. Crap.

  “Mind your own business,” he growled, turning away from her. Before he could stop her, she pushed up his hooded sweatshirt and t-shirt, exposing his back. His bruised, bitten and shredded back.

  “You’re disgusting!” she screamed, drawing the attention of everyone in the tent. “You’re so damn messed up, you’re fucking Onyx? What the fuck is happening to you?”

  What was happening to him? For one, he was pretty sure he was losing his mind. Two, he was definitely losing his mind. And three, he’d probably already lost his mind and was too insane to realize it.

  “What?” Becki screeched, pushing Nico out of her way to get to him. Her hand cracked across on the side of his face and his head went flying to his left.

  “You have no idea what happened to Trinity!” she hissed. “Not really! Gerik took her! Snatched her up and flew off with her! He could have set her on fire or ate her or is hiding her in a cave for all we know! Yet you continue to mope around, acting like it was her who wronged you and destroying yourself because of it! Onyx? Re
ally, Xan? How could you stoop so low? She tried to kill Trinity! She tried to kill the woman you supposedly loved!”

  Supposedly? Loved? Try loves, will always love!

  “Who are you kidding?” he roared. “She left with Gerik, she’s with Gerik! And for fuck's sake, stop saying her fucking name!”

  “TRINITY!” she screamed. “Trinity, Trinity, Trinity, Trinity!”

  Blinding rage powered through him and, without thinking, he lunged for Becki. Nico’s fist cut him off and sent him sprawling on his back.

  “You fucking psychopath!” Nico roared, towering over him. “You hit pregnant women now?”

  The entire tent had gone eerily silent and clan members were openly gaping at him. He looked around meeting each one of their disappointed stares. Shame like he’d never felt before enveloped him.

  “Fuck. I’m so sorry, surioară,” he croaked, blinking up at Becki. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I would never…I didn’t mean….” He slammed his fists down into his thighs. “Fuck. I’m so goddamn sorry, Becki.”

  Pushing a reluctant Nico out of her way, she knelt down beside him and grabbed his hand.

  “I love you, Xan,” she whispered. “But this has got to stop. Trinity isn’t here to know what you are doing. Trying to hurt her is only hurting you and the people who love you.”

  “Now that’s where you’re wrong, fată,” Marko said, stepping around Stefan and Aishe to stand before him. “Trinity knows exactly what her loving husband has been doing and she was damn sure hurting when I told her all about it.”

  Confused, he blinked up at Marko.

  Smirking, Marko reached into his coat and pulled out a gun.

  “Merry Christmas, frate, from your whore of a wife.”

  The gun landed in his lap and for a moment, he could only stare.

  It was her gun.

  His shaking hand closed around the rhodium-plated piece with a custom finger grooved grip, custom made for her fingers. Turning it over, he found the engraving, Trinity, fata mea, worn but still visible.

  He looked up at Marko, saw the anger glittering in his eyes and the malicious grin on his face and his stomach sank. The hospital. She had been there. He had been right all along.