Leaving Eden

by Kelly A Walker et al.

  The others shouted out their confusion in a cacophony of sound, but still he sat there, unanswering.

  Holding her hand up for quiet, they all, for once, followed her directive. “I think the least they deserve, Merc, is an explanation.”

  Piercing gray eyes pinned her in place. While the rest of him was starved and scruffy, those orbs remained as bright as she remembered. “I was exiled.”

  At her sharp gasp, the others moved their attention to her until Priest gave up more detail.

  “When I refused to take part in the torture of the others and you, my brothers thought it was a game. See who could make me join in first. As the years went on, they realized I’d be able to resist. You know, patience and all.” He laughed but it was without mirth, a hollow, self-deprecating sound. “I’d say a couple centuries or so ago they caught up with me. I managed to escape after a few decades of them draining me completely. Well, escape may be an exaggeration. I figured out how to use my ability against myself. Lost my body in the process and slipped into a human in a coma. I was confused for a long while, but when I wasn’t aging, the village the man lived in thought I was the devil and ran me out. The body I was in didn’t quite appear as I do now either. Over the years it evolved with my power regenerating, changing it on a cellular level. Until I came here, and the guys started gravitating together. I’ll admit I may have used my abilities to ferret out those that had a touch of the original immortal essence and arranged meetings where I could.” Priest shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal he’d orchestrated a trap in the form of living beings. “Can you really blame me for trying to find you?”

  Whether she blamed him or not wasn’t his most pressing issue. He had some severely ticked off members of the Death Dealers glaring in his direction. Too bad the idiots didn’t realize they were, in a way, already bonded with him. Retta could see the nearly invisible tendrils flowing from them to him, helping him strengthen. They’d have as much luck harming him now in any real way, as she’d had with them. Oh sure, they could kick his ass, but that’d be the extent of it.

  “Yes, yes, I can blame you,” she said. “Unfortunately for me, I’ve already bonded them all, without my consent, mind you. And since they’re bonded to you, we are, for the time being, attached to each other. Why don’t you go get cleaned up and then come back? I’m hungry and severely over reminiscing the past. Quinton, you got the she-devil under wraps for now?”

  A nod from his direction, and Priest leaving the office, were Retta’s cue to pop out to her own, no longer so temporary, accommodations. A smile curved her full lips at the echoing shout from the men. They’d either wait or be at her door soon enough. Ace would be for sure. He was sticking to her like a burr on a bear.

  HALFWAY THROUGH UNDRESSING to get in the shower the bedroom door banged open. Molten silver took over Kingston’s eyes and with Ace’s glamour failed, or dropped, his pure black eyes ate up the light near him. Neither of them paused until she was scooped up between them. Ace trembled at being left, and for that she felt badly for not taking him with her; Kingston's sharp incisors scraped across her collarbone without breaking the skin; he was barely in control of himself after she abandoned him so newly bonded. She’d have to get used to keeping them close and was surprised the others weren’t directly behind them.

  It felt so right and so very wrong at the same time. Retta had no intention to allow anything to go further. Even after centuries, some traumas stood out above others. Ace would be the one she’d be most comfortable with, the least volatile of the bunch. With her at least.

  “I’m taking a shower, guys. Alone. You two can wait in the living room; I won’t leave without you.” Retta tacked the last on when Kingston only gave a grunt and Ace tightened the steel bands masquerading as arms around her torso. On a squeak, she tried again. “Can’t breathe. Need space. Out.”

  The distress of actually not being able to draw a full breath echoed in her voice, prompting her immediate release. A finger was pointed her direction from fang face with a warning to come directly out after showering.

  “Aye, aye, bossman!” Using a wave of her hand backed up with a pinch of power, she slammed the door nearly on his nose. A snarl from the other side cheered her up immensely.

  TRUE TO HER WORD, Retta came out directly after her shower. Both men were waiting on opposite sides of the sofa in the living area of the suite. Ace, tracking her every move as if she’d disappear if he took his eyes off her, and Kingston in a more predatory manner. If he thought he was sinking fang again without permission, he was delusional. He was the first to break the silence.

  “We need to figure out how to get Camilla out of Quinton. And discuss what’s going to happen with Priest. I still can’t see any further, not enough to make a difference in a decision anyway.” Pinching the bridge of his nose in a sign of frustration, Kingston waited for an answer.

  Ace had a suggestion Retta was fully onboard with. Quinton, probably wouldn’t be once he heard it. She was part of him after all. Plan in mind, she took the proffered hand from Kingston to help her up out of the wingback chair she’d taken to put her boots on. Touching him had a side effect neither of them had expected. Sucked into Kingston’s vision, she watched on with confusion.

  No longer in the living room, Retta recognized her bedroom, the one that had just been in the other room. Except it was different. The bed was larger, the bedding was all black, and it was full of lounging men. To top it off, Retta was in the middle of that bed and there wasn’t a stitch of clothing to be found. Trying to get her bearings and ask what all of them, Jack, Kingston, Quinton, and even Priest were doing naked in her bed, stalled out when a tattooed hand pulled her back around to lie flat on her back.

  Languid black eyes met hers. Without needing a mirror, she knew they nearly matched her own. He was her kindred spirit and she was getting all sorts of mushy feelings about that.

  He dipped his head to take her lips firmly, yet carefully, with his. Retta wasn’t even feeling much anxiety, not the debilitating wash of emotion and panic that usually ensued with people touching her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been naked in front of anyone, let alone a group of men, two of whom she’d downright despised an hour ago. In her confusion, it registered that Ace was dragging his fingertips in soft whirling patterns around her arm and shoulder, never pushing to go further.

  “Mine.” He staked his claim.

  The soft rumble of Ace’s voice echoed in her head as she snapped back to reality. She’d frozen with her hand still in Kingston’s and Ace was halfway out of his seat as he spotted her expression of shock. Wide eyed, Kingston met her gaze.

  “You saw that? My vision?” Nice to know something could ruffle the leader of the Death Dealers.

  “I could.” It dawned on her then that she’d shared in his foresight. She was able to do quite a few things with her own power but seeing into the future was definitely not one of them.

  “I wonder—” he mused, eyes unfocused.

  “Later. We’ll worry about this later. Let’s go see what else we can pry out of Priest.” Scarlet flashed in her eyes as her glamour waned. Retta took the slower route and headed for the door, Ace on her heels.

  “Maybe let’s try asking first” A glare tossed over her shoulder at Kingston shut him up. “Alright, then. Shall we proceed?” As if it were his idea. Retta rolled her eyes at him, getting a grudging grin out of Ace.

  7

  Upon re-entering Kingston’s office, Retta found Jack and Quinton, heads together, going over security footage while Priest sat on the couch. Jack shot her a glance, looking haggard, but relaxing as she came closer. Cleaned up and looking better than he had, it was still apparent he wasn’t fully recovered. Ignoring him for the time being, she walked over to view what was on the screen.

  “What, exactly, are you two looking for?”

  Quinton, unsurprisingly, ignored her leaving Jack to answer her.

  “We’re trying to pinpoint the times that Quinton ca
n’t recall much and see if we can track Camilla’s movements. I think we’re wasting our time though.” The exasperation in his voice indicated this wasn’t the first time he’d made his opinion known.

  Quinton ignored him altogether.

  Done wasting time, Retta shut down the screen herself. Not acknowledging his protest, she addressed Quinton. “Change. I need to talk to Camilla.”

  That proclamation garnered the attention from everyone in the room, their protests immediate. Quinton stayed silent, mutiny in every tense line of his body and face.

  Holding up her hand for silence, she repeated herself, “Change Quinton, or I’ll make you.”

  Quinton blanched but moved to an unoccupied area of the large space without further protest. For a moment he struggled and shortly after Retta felt a small snap within herself. The tenuous bond they had was breaking, she realized. Filing that information away for later, as it may be the key to breaking them all, she watched Quinton’s features melt like hot wax before reforming into Camilla.

  Without warning, Retta pinned her to the spot, halting any movement she may have made to escape or harm.

  “Camilla, be a dear and explain why you kidnapped Priest here.” It was worth a shot, right?

  Of course, Camilla refused to answer and stared through Retta, who had moved directly in front of her. Needing answers, Retta tried again, but to a different person.

  “Merc, where was Camilla holding you? And why?”

  Priest started to open his mouth to answer while Retta kept a close eye on Camilla.

  Eyes widening in shock at the name Retta used, Camilla started to make a sound of protest. Retta held up a hand to halt Priest and let Camilla speak her piece.

  “He’s almost got them all you know? He’d already have this one here if he wasn’t being used as bait to draw you out. Unfortunately, he overestimated your care for your counterpart. Had to start stealing the brothers to get a rise out of you. Why is that, Retta? Had you any feelings left for your Patience, like you do your brothers, wouldn’t it have drawn you here when he was taken?” A smug and hateful smile tipped up the corners of Camilla’s full lips.

  She wasn’t wrong, though. A flick of a glance showed Retta what she’d expected. Hurt and resignation poured from Priest’s expression. Another thing to add to the ‘deal with later’ pile. Camilla may not have given much, but there was a small clue. Retta was under no illusion she’d give them more information, nor risk hurting Quinton, by interrogating her more harshly. Too bad Cray-Cray wasn’t aware of how little Retta was actually concerned about Quinton’s body or feelings. Which is why she motioned for Ace.

  Too late to disappear back into her brother, Camilla realized what Ace was about. Hands clamped to either cheek, mouth hovering a breath away from hers, he inhaled without end. A grayish mist pulled from her to him, Camilla’s mouth stuck in a silent ‘O’ of a scream.

  As he pulled, Retta continued to hold her immobile. Camilla began to disappear along with her essence. Features of other men and women appeared and receded in a wave before finally settling back into Quinton who only had a brief moment to glare his betrayal before passing out. Letting her hold go, he crumpled to the floor, Ace catching him to help him land gently.

  In a panic, Ace locked gazes with Retta. “He’s not breathing!”

  But Retta didn’t need his warning as the bond she'd thought was broken snapped back into place, drawing from her at an alarming rate. Her last thought before the massive drain dragged her from consciousness was that separating him from Camilla must have done far more damage than she'd anticipated.

  RETTA CAME TO, hearing a myriad of voices vocalizing their displeasure with her not being coherent. Unused to being so drained, it took a few moments for her to gather her wits about herself and sit up on the couch. That thing was getting a lot of action in the last couple days. That made Retta think about all the action it probably actually got.

  Her thump to the floor on her ungraceful lunge off the possibly contaminated furniture brought the attention of the room’s occupants to her. Ace, still sitting on said offending couch, let out a bark of laughter. At least now she wasn’t the only one being stared at. She didn’t think laughter was something Ace was used to or that the others were used to hearing from him. He held out a hand to help her up.

  Taking the assistance, she settled on his lap rather than the leather of the couch. From the raising of his brows, he was also unaccustomed to having someone on him. Being in the same boat, the unused to touching part, Retta took that as a good sign she wouldn’t have to bleach him. The same probably couldn’t be said for the rest of them.

  Switching her attention from a very distracting Ace, Retta took in the room. The guys' expressions varied from pissed off to worried and in Priest’s case, melancholy.

  “So, what happened? How long have I been out? I see you recovered just fine, Quinton.” If there was accusation in her tone at the last, she felt it was completely deserved in her opinion.

  Kingston strode across the space, his lanky form and long legs eating up the space in a few strides. He squatted down in front of her, pulling his black suit pants up at the knees to allow him to bend. Retta eyed, and thought about commenting on, his black socks with gray paisley that disappeared into shiny black dress shoes. Dude needed a new color scheme.

  “Camilla is gone, only about an hour, and yes, Quinton is well recovered, thanks to you. I fear we would have lost him without your assistance, even as involuntary as it was. I thank you. We all do.” Kingston waved a pale hand, silver ring glinted in the light on one of his long-tapered fingers.

  Turning in Ace’s lap to view Jack, Retta crooked a black tipped finger at him, beckoning him to come closer. When he was right in front of her, she spoke. “You knew, didn’t you?” At his blank brown-eyed stare, Retta narrows her own at him. “Spit it out, Jack. You knew what might happen.”

  Raking a hand through his auburn hair, the handsome man caved. “It’s kismet, Mistress. The fates wouldn’t have let you lose one of us. Not that easily anyhow.” Surprise lit his tawny eyes at her shrugged acceptance. Warily, yet hopefully, he sunk back into the space next to Ace, pulling her feet into his lap. Feet that she was only now noticing had lost their armor of boots. When Jack started rubbing those feet, though, she gave up any thought of demanding them back.

  Trying to remember her train of thought, Retta got distracted, letting loose a soft gasp as Jack hit a particularly good spot. Spotting Kingston who had moved to prop a hip against his desk, dropping fang with quicksilver eyes, brought her a modicum of coherency. Ignoring him for the time being, she turned her attention to his Queen.

  “Have you any memories left from her? Or any indication further than what she spoke on?” A negative headshake and crossed arms from the blue-eyed blond gave Retta the permission she needed from herself to continue ignoring him.

  “Guess it comes down to you, Merc. Got any insight for us?” Sad, long-lashed, grass green eyes met hers.

  “I haven’t got much to add. Only thing I remember standing out is the symbol of a pair of wings with an eye in the middle joining them. It was centered inside a pentacle etched on a mirror. I only saw it once, briefly, when I went in the locker room to help her with something. Now I know there was nothing, it was a ploy to get me alone. Camilla had the help of someone to keep me in a reality pocket, as she wouldn’t have been able to build one that could suspend animation. I’d been there long enough, that while I couldn’t have died, I’d have been starved. The pocket was fueled by my own energy. The more I tried to break it, the stronger it was.” Priest spoke softly, in a near monotone. Reciting what happened while distancing himself from it. Not that she blamed him. Being powerless and at the mercy of monsters was never fun. At least Camilla hadn’t done more than lock him up. Which made her think she knew why.

  “Camilla thought we were bonded already didn’t she?” Retta asked. “Or at least thought something would happen to me if it happened to you.” At his nod,
she kept on with her train of thought. “Camilla was contacting someone, not working alone or for revenge. Not as far as we know. Probably wanted her body to herself.” Musing aloud, the thought of the wings and the eye floated to the forefront. Pale skin further losing pigment Retta jerked her gaze, flashing dark and scarlet in her panic, back at Priest.

  “The Druj,” she whispered, voice gone hoarse and nearly inaudible to those without better than average hearing.

  Priest nodded. He’d come to the same conclusion already but hadn’t wanted to lead her into it. Ace’s brawny arms tightened around her, drawing her further into his muscled chest. Jack just confusedly repeated the name.

  “The Druj? What the fuck is that?” At their silence, he pointedly moved his eyes between her and Priest, waiting on an explanation.

  Wiggling her toes for more rubs, Retta tipped her head back onto Ace’s solid shoulder. “When the moms and dads wanted little super babies, like the humans and animals and other races had but superior as well, they made themselves the set up I already told you about.” At their round of nods Retta continued. “All boys, no girls, despite trying. It wasn’t really going their way. The super smarties, aka the Creators, had done too much. Evil got involved. Still following?” More nods. “The Druj is Arhiman. Angra Mainyu.”

  Understanding registered with them all. Devil Boy was pissed and wanted his power back. Power Retta held and now, by the bonding, so did the guys. As Retta went to go on about the situation, she felt the tug. Ace grunted behind her-letting her know he’d felt it too. The others seemed okay when she looked from one to the other.