Eden's Deliverance (The Eden Series Book 4) Page 6

  “Nonsense,” Graylin said. “He had choices, just as you do. And a good parent isn’t afraid to make the difficult ones when their child’s happiness is at stake.” His gaze slid to Ludan for the barest of seconds, then rested back on Ramsay.

  As if sensing the sudden tension, Lexi straightened taller in her chair and fiddled with the stem of her wine glass. “So, the information just popped in your head?”

  Ramsay shook his head and huffed out a broken laugh. “Hardly. It was more like being awake one second, then free-falling, but without landing. The next thing I knew, I was seeing… or more like reliving another life. Our first ancestor, Kentar Shantos, was there with me. Only I wasn’t me. I was someone named Hagan Xenese.”

  Graylin’s attention snapped to Eryx.

  “Something significant in that piece of information?” Eryx said.

  “I haven’t heard that name since my history lessons before my awakening.” Graylin’s gaze drifted to the tabletop, and he tapped the surface in a random rhythm. “There aren’t many accounts of him, but legend has it his line was as powerful as the Shantos family. The two were best friends, both carrying the sum of all gifts. No one gave much credence to the stories, though, given no such line exists today.”

  “Actually, it does,” Ramsay said. “If I’m interpreting things correctly, Hagan Xenese was Lexi and Trinity’s grandfather.”

  “But Kentar and Hagan would have existed more than six thousand years ago. Myrens live a long time, but not long enough to be so close to their generation.”

  “Those six thousand years were his penance.” The words shot out of Brenna’s mouth.

  Everyone shifted their attention to her, but her gaze was rooted to Ludan. Something in his expression gave her strength, knocking the weight of those watching off her shoulders. “Six thousand years was his sentence for killing the Myren men who raped and killed his human mate.”

  “What?” Lexi’s outraged question barely registered over the grumbles and disheartened sighs.

  Brenna couldn’t bear to look away from Ludan, not even when Ramsay continued the story.

  “In that time, humans and Myrens were both here,” Ramsay said. “When Hagan found his mate had been killed by Myren men, he cut them down. Used his powers to torture and kill them unmercifully for the pain they’d caused her. When it was done, the Great One appeared and told him he had to pay.”

  “Sounds to me like the bastards got what they deserved,” Reese said.

  Ramsay leaned in, resting his muscled forearm beside his empty plate. “Yeah, but Hagan didn’t argue. He agreed to whatever punishment the Great One deemed fitting, but asked that the other humans be protected. He said he didn’t trust that other Myrens wouldn’t do the same. The Great One agreed. Said he’d build a wall between the two races, so long as Hagan agreed to surrender his powers to fuel it. In exchange, Hagan would have to live among the humans he’d sacrificed for, loving and watching those close to him die, even as he propagated his Myren race among them.”

  Ian whistled.

  Lexi flopped against her seat back, clearly flabbergasted. “Damn.”

  “Exactly,” Trinity said.

  Quiet settled around the table. The only sounds came from the rustle of clothes as everyone shifted and studied each other.

  It was Reese who spoke first. “So the prophecy is about the wall coming down?”

  Ramsay nodded. “The Great One said a reckoning would come, marked by the joining of one who leads and one who bears Lexi and Trinity’s mark.”

  “Hagan’s heirs,” Ian said.

  Ramsay wrapped on arm around Trinity and urged her closer. “Yep.”

  “And the reckoning?” Eryx said.

  Ramsay paused and looked at Brenna.

  She managed a terse shake of her head and clenched her hands tight in her lap. This was it. The minute everything would change.

  Ramsay cleared his throat, low and awkward. “He said a human will stand as judge, one who knows both of our races and has been injured the same as Hagan’s mate. He said Hagan’s mark would be the key, the tool that will feed its bearer the powers he surrendered that day, or that would keep the wall in place. The choice is up to the judge.”

  Silence.

  A slow, deafening buzz whirred in Brenna’s ears, and her nape grew clammy and damp. The partially eaten food on her plate blurred, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

  Galena’s soft, honeyed voice reached from the far end of the table. “You think you’re the judge, don’t you?”

  Brenna jerked a nod and held her breath.

  Beside her Orla shifted, making her wooden chair creak. Her aged yet still elegant hand covered Brenna’s on her lap. “I can see how you and Hagan’s mate have history in common, but that doesn’t necessarily mean—”

  “It was me.” Brenna lifted her head, and her eyes sought Ludan on instinct.

  His face was an angry red, and a muscle ticked at the back of his jaw in a frantic rhythm. Was he upset on her behalf? Or mad she hadn’t told him?

  “What do you mean it was you?” Orla said.

  “Hagan’s mate looked just like me, only she was dead.”

  “And you saw the whole thing.” Ian tossed his napkin to the side of his plate and exhaled so loud it sounded closer to a hiss. “Jesus, no wonder you didn’t want to share.”

  She hiccupped and pushed away from the table. Standing, she glared at Eryx. “Do you have what you need now?”

  Eryx nodded.

  She threw her napkin to the table and strode toward the exit.

  “Brenna.”

  She froze at Eryx’s sharp command, closed her eyes for a second, and pulled in a steady breath before turning.

  He stood, slow and purposeful, and met her stare head-on. “You are your own person. Your choices and your decisions are yours. There’s not a person at this table who would ask you to do anything you don’t want to.”

  The confidence and determination she’d so fleetingly stoked this morning resurrected itself, surging bold and furious. “My life hasn’t been my own since I was eight. I don’t even know what kind of clothes I like or what color I’d paint my room if given an option. What makes you think I’m suited or ready to make a decision that could impact your throne and the fate of two races?”

  She’d expected him to scowl. Maybe throw one of those scary death glares around like he did with his men, or command her obedience. Instead, he smiled, the look on his face more understanding than she’d ever seen. “You’re suited to that kind of a decision because you’re you.”

  Chapter 6

  Serena shivered beneath the tattered, musty quilts and tucked her knees tighter to her chest. Praise the Great One, it was cold. With no outlet to the outdoors save the entrance, warmth in the way of a fire wasn’t an option, but Uther could have at least brought her a warming brick or two. Then again, the bastard was probably dead to the world, sleeping near his roaring hearth. She’d scented the soft woodsmoke shortly after nightfall and had cursed him nonstop ever since.

  You’d be smart to earn your keep translating those journals.

  Definitely a bastard. One she’d string up by his nuts when she found a way out of here. There had to be a way to bring him in line. His illiteracy gave her some leverage, but offered little in the way of meaningful threats.

  A fresh shiver racked her, and the pendant shifted between her breasts. That was another thing she needed to figure out. Risking the journal was one thing, but her instincts insisted Lexi’s family mark was important. Having it anywhere Uther could find it was dangerous.

  Footsteps sounded on the wooden steps beyond, slow and heavy. The door groaned open a second later, and Uther ducked inside the opening. “I’m heading out.”

  Serena forced herself upright and clenched the blanket around her torso. She’d snuffed out all but one candle, now burning low on the table. “What time is it?”

  “A little before two in the morning. I’ll try to slip in when they change the gu
ard.” His gaze slid to the journal on the desk. “You learn anything?”

  “Enough to know it’s about the prophecy. I found an almost identical section to your family records, but there’s more before it. A story from our first generation. It got too cold in here to go much farther.” A fresh quaver rattled her torso, and her teeth clattered so hard it hurt. “I need out of here.”

  “No one’s stopping you.”

  “You know I can’t leave.” She pulled her knees in tight and huddled against the bare earth wall. “The minute I do they’ll track me.”

  “And you want me to what? Kill your family? They’re innocent.”

  “Ha!” The harsh bark scraped her achy throat. “My mother, maybe. But my father’s far from innocent. My brother’s growing up just like him.”

  “So you want me to do your dirty work.”

  Beneath the blanket, Serena fisted her hand and winced at the stabbing pain it sent jolting up her arm. “Believe me, if I had the strength or the opportunity, I’d handle it myself. I’ve suffered plenty at my father’s hand, as has my mother.”

  It was more than she wanted to admit to herself, let alone Uther, but a flash of compassion slid across his face. He wrapped his fingers around the doorknob. “We’ll talk after I get my family’s journal, if I can even get past the guards. If I’m not back before sunrise, odds are I’m not coming back.”

  The door thunked shut behind him.

  Damn him. Damn her father and the rest of her unfaithful family. Damn Eryx Shantos and her hasty decisions. She tucked her nose beneath the blanket’s edge and exhaled through her mouth. The warmth ricocheted off her knees and wafted across her cheeks. She’d figure something out. She always did.

  Pulling the pendant free, she curled her fingers around it. The iron filigree scraped her fingertips, twice as harsh as the smooth backing that had lain against her skin. The first thing she needed to do was find a safe place for it.

  Black clay covered the floors and walls. The only furniture was the three-by-three table, a simple wood chair, and her cot, nestled in the corner. The only place to hide anything was beneath the ratty mattress, and Uther wouldn’t fail checking there going forward.

  Too frustrated to stay locked in one spot, she shoved from the cot. Pain stabbed through her heels and the balls of her feet, the cold leaving her toes almost numb. Maybe she should consider hiding the pendant outside Uther’s cottage. If she picked someplace close, she could access it easier without Uther knowing. Plus, she could pick up a warming brick on the way back inside.

  She spun for a fresh lap of her cramped cell and shrieked, freezing so quickly she nearly overturned the table beside her. The candlelight flickered and nearly went out, but there was no mistaking the presence in front of her.

  A woman she’d never seen before stood in front of the doorway with her arms crossed. Her black gown was loose and made of a shiny material with a low V at the neck, and a looped silver chain circled her waist. She’d have been elegant had it not been for her coarse, salt-and-pepper hair that hung loose and uncombed to her shoulders.

  “Who are you?” No way had Serena missed the door opening. It groaned as loudly as her stomach had the last five hours every time it opened, but it was shut tight behind the woman. “How did you get in here?”

  Her visitor pursed her lips and glared with enough hatred the room’s temperature felt warmer by five degrees. “How I got here doesn’t matter. My name is Patrice. I’m a widow. By your hand.”

  Prickles scampered down Serena’s neck, and her heart kicked harder than it had when she’d found Patrice rooted near the doorway. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I think you do.” Patrice dropped her hands and straightened to an imposing height. It had to be a trick of the light. No one could actually grow an extra four inches in a single heartbeat. “You’ve only slaughtered one man in your life and made us both widows in the process.”

  “Maxis.” The word left her on a breathy hiss, and a fresh wave of cold slithered down her spine.

  “Your mate and mine, all at once. Quite efficient of you.” Patrice drifted forward, her feet unmoving while the rest of her moved like a cloud. She surveyed the tiny space and wrinkled her nose as though offended by a foul stench. “For a woman who had so much going for her, you’ve certainly found yourself at a dead end.”

  Serena couldn’t move, couldn’t muster one decent thought.

  Patrice scowled. “My mate was a visionary. Hungry enough to free all the Dark Spiritu, but short-sighted in his manner of getting there. If he hadn’t acted rashly with Maxis, he’d still be alive and the passions closer to being out of balance.”

  “The Spiritu?”

  “Guides of inspiration.” Patrice trailed her fingers along the table’s edge, her head cocked to one side, thoughtful. “We have two contingents—the light and the dark. One feeds the more compassionate side of nature, while the other speaks to the headier passions.” She smirked. “The more enjoyable passions.”

  Stepping back from the table, Patrice crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “My mate chose yours to bring the two sides out of balance. To unhinge the Dark Spiritu from their balance with the Light and let the dark desires run free. But Maxis buckled. Failed my Falon and put the two sides back in balance. Now I’m alone. Ostracized from my kind with no human or Myren interaction to feed my soul.”

  “Then why are you here?” The question came out with far more defiance than Serena felt, adrenaline spiking her tone with a powerful mix of anger and fear.

  Patrice’s dark eyes glinted in the candlelight. “Maybe I thought to aid you.”

  Silence burned long and loud between them. “Why?”

  For the first time since Serena saw her, Patrice’s bravado wavered, sadness glossing her face and painting deep creases across her brow. “Because I want to join my mate. The one sure way to do that is to help you.”

  “How?”

  The candle’s flame grew bigger, and the room blossomed with a rich, spicy scent. “You’re in a bit of a bind, aren’t you? Worrying on how to leave this hovel without your family tracing your link? Wondering how to use that pretty pendant hidden beneath your gown? How to leverage the prophecy you’ve deciphered? Surely answers to those questions would be valuable to you.”

  “How could you know those things? Know what’s going on in my head?”

  “Because that’s what Spiritu do. We listen to those we guide and offer encouragement. It just so happens your needs will get me what I want. Assuming you want my help?”

  Yes. A million times over, yes. Her blood surged so fast the cold vanished, and a fuzzy warmth surrounded her.

  Patrice lifted a finger and shook her head. “Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast.” She pursed her lips and glided toward the door, her head down as though deep in thought. “If I give you what you need, I’ll pay with my death, a price I’m happy to remit, but that doesn’t mean I’ll willingly leave this realm without a parting shot. I want to fulfill my husband’s mission. To free the Dark contingent from the Light and create a world laden with debauchery and free of remorse.”

  Debauchery and no remorse. Two components that fell perfectly in line with the reign she envisioned.

  “Exactly that,” Patrice said. “I see you were as in sync with your mate as I was with mine. A shame it’s the two of us who have to see their goals through in the end.”

  In sync was pushing it. True, she’d mourned Maxis’s passing, or at least the upheaval his death had heaped upon her. But the chance to live without dependence on any man burned brighter now than any dream she’d had before.

  Patrice’s low, raspy chuckle filled the room, so sinister and heavy Serena wondered if she was truly safe in the woman’s presence. “I’ve met many people in my time, Serena, and yet I’ve found few as narcissistic as you.” She grinned, the expression one of a self-satisfied woman only moments from gaining her most prized accomplishment. “If you want my help, it comes with a price, one sealed with a blood vow.
”

  “What kind of price? And what’s a blood vow?”

  “Actions you vow to complete prior to a predetermined time. Failure to abide by your oath means your life is forfeit. And before you harbor thoughts otherwise, there is no escaping a blood vow. Ever.”

  Pressure squeezed Serena’s heart, so painful she wondered if perhaps Patrice hadn’t thrust her hand into Serena’s chest and fisted it in her palm. Everything Serena needed was here. All the answers in exchange for a chore.

  “Well?” Patrice glided forward. “Just how dedicated to your purpose are you?”

  Surely the vow would be worth it. Especially if it meant shaking the chains she’d worn her whole life. Her pulse thrummed frantic and heavy at her neck and wrists, and a fevered buzz bellowed loud and demanding in her head. This was right. A gift preordained by the Great One himself if she only dared to accept it. She sucked in a bracing breath. “Tell me what I have to do.”

  Chapter 7

  Praise the Great One, Ludan needed a fight. A good, drawn-out, bloody one with enough sweat and fatigued muscles he couldn’t walk when it was over. He tossed his light blanket aside and glared at the sun barely lifting over the horizon. The ocean’s breeze drifted through the open window and slicked across his naked body.

  It still didn’t help. Nothing did. The only time he found deep sleep was at the bottom of a strasse bottle or after a fight. Or a long, dirty fuck, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d indulged in one of those.

  Maybe Reese would be up for a spar this morning. Surely Galena’s new mate would take it at face value. A warrior in need of some old-fashioned stress relief.

  Without conscious direction, his senses stretched down one floor toward Brenna’s room. It’d been all he could do not to go after her when she’d stormed from the dining hall. Histus, leaving the castle to join the search for Serena and Sully had been nothing short of a miracle. The need to be near her was three times more powerful since he’d touched her. Since he’d witnessed her pain laid bare for his friends and family. Whether it raised eyebrows or not, he’d make damned sure no one pushed her into anything she wasn’t comfortable with from here out. And he’d kill any stranger who got too close to her.