Eden's Deliverance (The Eden Series Book 4) Page 7

  The animal in him stalked the perimeter of its cage, snarling with pent-up frustration. Maybe he should sweep the castle perimeter. The Great One knew he wasn’t getting any more sleep.

  You mean make another pass by Brenna’s room.

  He grumbled at the dig from his conscience and knifed out of bed. So what if he’d patrolled her hallway more than once. It wasn’t like he’d stopped and enjoyed what little dampening her presence on the other side of the door made. He’d wanted to, yeah, but the key was making sure she was safe inside. No warrior ignored his instincts, and since the day he’d laid eyes on her, his beast had gone on high alert. More so now that he’d touched her.

  He tugged on his leather pants and shoved on his boots. Something was up. His brain hadn’t put it all together yet, but he knew it was important. Whether her impact on him was part of it, he couldn’t tell. It would be nice if he had someone to bounce his thoughts off, but he didn’t dare mention anything to Eryx. Or Ramsay. Both of them were so lovesick they’d chalk it up to Brenna being his mate.

  No way was that the case. He didn’t deserve the love they had. Even if he did, he wouldn’t know how to honor a woman like Brenna. She needed someone tender and thoughtful. Not some ham-fisted brute.

  Drast in place, he pulled his warrior’s torque and cuffs from their onyx chest. His mother’s favorite pendant, an opal with vibrant colors shaped in the form of a dove, winked in the candle’s glow from the rich black velvet inside. If she were still alive, he could’ve talked to her. Lexi, Trinity, or Galena would all yap to their mates or jump straight into matchmaker mode, but his mother would have listened. She’d been good that way. Patient despite the hotheaded warriors in her life.

  You could talk to your dad.

  The thought jolted through him, carried on his mother’s warm molasses voice. Goose bumps lifted up and down his arms, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Could he? Since his mother died, they hadn’t had many deep conversations, but before that they’d been inseparable. They’d grieved together, but afterward his father had never looked at him the same way. Not with blame, though the Great One knew Graylin should have, but with pity. If the roles were reversed, Ludan wasn’t sure he’d have been able to abide his son’s presence, let alone keep from killing him.

  He picked up the pendant. The stone lay cool against his callused palm, as bright and beautiful as her smile. Before he could second-guess himself, he traced his link to his father. The ice-blue thread so like his own pinged from the castle instead of his father’s isolated cottage. Odd. His dad usually preferred isolation to the castle’s noise.

  Ludan squeezed the pendant tight. “You up?”

  His father’s link jangled as though startled. “I am indeed. Though I’m surprised you are. You had a late night.”

  Later than his father could possibly imagine, not that Ludan had any plans on cluing him in. Not at that level of detail anyway. “You spend the night here, too?”

  “No, I got here about an hour ago. Eryx approached me before he and Lexi retired. He’s concerned about the men being preoccupied with the search and wanted me to oversee the castle guards.”

  That made sense. Maxis had infiltrated once and swiped Lexi. As somo to Eryx’s father, Graylin had an elite background few could compete with, and the last thing they needed was for someone to make inroads to the castle and snatch Brenna.

  Over my dead body.

  He peeled his fingers away from the pendant before he could crack it in half and tucked it back against the velvet.

  “Something wrong, son?”

  His father’s voice shook him back on track. He’d never told a soul of his gift’s impact, but if there was one person he could trust to keep it quiet, his dad was the guy. No one had more honor than Graylin Forte. And if his prickling instincts or Brenna’s impact on him had anything to do with the prophecy and keeping her safe, he’d be a fool not to share. No matter how awkward it felt. “You got time to talk before Eryx is up and ready to go?”

  Stunned silence ricocheted through their connection. “I always have time for you. I’m in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

  Disconnecting the communication, Ludan headed down the hallway and jogged down the steps to the second-story landing. He hesitated before heading down to the first floor and rerouted down Brenna’s hallway.

  You were gentle with me.

  Damn it all, he couldn’t get Brenna’s words out of his head. Not her words or the feel of her curled against him. As tiny as she was, he’d felt even more like a giant than usual. Like he could conquer the world if she so much as whispered the request.

  He shook his head and realized he stood rooted outside her doorway. What the hell was wrong with him? He shouldn’t feel like this. Shouldn’t feel the kind of responses thoughts of her generated. He was her protector, nothing more.

  No, not Brenna’s protector. Eryx’s protector. Brenna was just an extension of that security. He strode down the remaining hallway to the workers’ stairway and stomped to the first floor. The rich, nutty scent of Orla’s coffee drifted to him before he reached the kitchen. The first hints of baking bread followed right behind it. He rounded the corner and halted.

  Beside the kitchen island, Graylin stood in front of Orla, one hand cupping her face. Their close bodies conveyed a comfortable intimacy, and Orla practically glowed. Was that a smile on his father’s face? Not the polite and gracious one he used with Eryx and everyone else, but that of a man excited about life. A young man.

  His father glanced up, spied Ludan standing at the entrance, and slowly lowered his hand. If he was upset at having been caught in such a situation, he didn’t show it. Quite the contrary, he placed a familiar hand at the small of Orla’s back and turned her to face Ludan. “Orla made breakfast if you’re hungry.”

  How in histus was he supposed to process this? His whole life, the only woman he’d ever pictured next to his father was his mother. Sure Orla was a fantastic woman, but she wasn’t his mother.

  Orla and his father stared at him, both with eyebrows raised.

  Fuck, his dad had asked a question, hadn’t he? What was it? Ah, right, breakfast. He shook his head and took two smaller steps into the room. “No, thank you.”

  Orla glanced back at Graylin, smiled shyly at him, and wiped her hands on her apron. “Well, if either of you change your mind, I’ve left it warming on the counter. I’ll leave you two alone to talk.”

  Desperate for something to take his mind off the thoughts sprinting circles in his head, Ludan paced to the coffeepot. Behind him, wooden chair legs scraped against the stone floor.

  “Does it bother you?” Graylin said. “Seeing me with Orla?”

  Bother him? Not really. If anyone deserved happiness it was his dad. Not once since his mother’s death had he seen his dad with another woman. “It just surprised me.”

  “I imagine it did. I probably should have said something.”

  Ludan set the coffeepot aside and turned. “I’m a grown man, and you’ve been alone a long time.” He took a drink.

  Graylin stared back at him with his all-too-knowing gaze.

  Eryx would know what to say. Something supportive and wise. “Orla’s a good woman,” he finally managed. “You deserve that. You both do.”

  The second the words left his mouth their weight hit him square in the gut. His dad was happy. Truly happy and experiencing something good on a personal level for the first time in more than a hundred years. He couldn’t share what was going on with the voices and Brenna now. Nothing got by Graylin. The minute he learned what happened after Ludan consumed someone’s memories he’d put two and two together and realize how often Ludan relived his mother’s death. No way could he burden his dad with that kind of knowledge.

  Graylin leaned back in his chair. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Ludan sipped his coffee and blanked his expression. Graylin could scent bullshit thirty leagues away, especially when it came to Ludan. Unless he st
uck close to the truth. “This thing with Brenna, do you think it’s too much? More than she can take with everything she’s been through?”

  Graylin studied him. “I think the Great One never gives a person more than they can handle. Sometimes we heap more on ourselves than we should, but seldom will our Creator place a burden on our shoulders we can’t bear.” He paused and tapped his thumb on the tabletop. “What are your thoughts?”

  That was easy. If it were up to him, he’d cart Brenna out of here, let her go home like she wanted, and stay as close as he could without getting locked up for stalking. He shrugged instead. “Just seems unfair. She’s had enough forced on her. She should get a fresh start.”

  The intensity behind his father’s eyes deepened, pain and remorse eking past his usual somber demeanor. “Life is often unfair.”

  A scratchy burn clawed inside Ludan’s throat, and the air around him grew dense, wrapping him in an unforgiving grip. They might have started the conversation with Brenna, but he was pretty damned sure she wasn’t the topic now. Sharing his gift and the penalty that went with it was one thing. Digging up the ghost between them wasn’t happening. Not today.

  Ludan pushed away from the countertop and took a last swig of his coffee. “It was just a random thought, and I wanted your opinion.” He laid the empty mug in the sink and headed for the entrance. “I gotta check in with Eryx. Let us know if you need anything.”

  “Ludan.”

  Ludan stopped, schooled his expression, and turned. “Yeah.”

  Over a hundred and fifty years Ludan had watched his father move through all kinds of situations. Happy ones. Dangerous ones. Even those where he was bored to tears. But not once had he seen Graylin so uncertain. So hesitant to speak.

  As if finally grasping his courage, Graylin gripped the top of the chair back and squared his shoulders. “Listen to your instincts, son. I know you blame yourself for your mother’s death, but you’re a good man. A smart one. Listen to your spirit. Your Spiritu, or whatever that quiet voice inside belongs to. To deny it is to deny your soul.”

  Ludan couldn’t move. Couldn’t have budged so much as an inch if the diabhal himself had come barreling through the kitchen. Graylin couldn’t possibly know what he’d really wanted to talk about, but his comment addressed it head-on. Maybe he was wrong not to share. Histus, he could at least say thank you.

  He opened his mouth, uncertain what would come out.

  Eryx’s voice blasted through his head, the echo behind it and the way his father flinched telling Ludan it was a mass broadcast. “Lock the castle down. We’ve had a breach.”

  Chapter 8

  In only a second, Ludan marked Eryx’s position in the castle via link. He lurched forward and froze, years of loyalty and preprogrammed response knocked sideways by an equally brutal pull in Brenna’s direction.

  The beast rattled its cage, and an unholy roar reverberated in his head. Over his shoulder, the kitchen exit and the back staircase stood empty. The side trip to check on her would cost him time. Time that could cost his malran. His race.

  His father’s low but urgent voice breached his hesitation. “I’ve got her. Go.”

  It was all Ludan needed. The castle rooms blurred past him, workers filing in for the day and warriors’ voices shouting around the perimeter. His link to Eryx pulsed strong and healthy, a bold and glowing silver in his mind’s eye, guiding him to the royal office. Brenna would be fine. His father might be old, but he could still kick half the elites’ asses on experience alone.

  The royal library doors stood open, Eryx and Reese safe and sound inside and scanning every detail. No, not scanning. Tracking. Very few tracked as well as Reese, which was why they’d put him in charge of the search for Serena and Sully. For all the good it had done them.

  Two guards stood at the castle entrance, their backs propping the mammoth doors open and flooding the foyer with early-morning sunlight. On the far edge of the veranda, Ramsay barked orders to the guards.

  Lexi paced the soft yellow rug covering the stone foyer and scowled, her arms crossed tight as though she feared giving them free rein. Trinity held her place to one side, watching her sister and nibbling on a fingernail. That meant all were present and accounted for, save Galena.

  Ludan stalked into Lexi’s path. “Who’s missing?”

  She barely looked up and turned for a fresh loop. “It’s not who, it’s what. The journal and the translation table from the archives.”

  “And my pendant,” Trinity added.

  Better the artifacts than a person. Though with three times their normal guards even that should have been impossible. Granted, the artifacts weren’t the kind of information they’d want in the wrong hands, but at least they weren’t the sole source of information anymore. “How long have they been missing?”

  Lexi stopped and planted her hands on her hips. Unlike the usual Myren attire, she’d thrown on a pair of Levi’s and a girly purple tank top. “Day before yesterday. Around six, I think. Maybe a little earlier. I put the pendant in right before Ramsay headed to Winrun. I swear the journal was there then.” She huffed a frustrated breath. “I should have locked it up.”

  “Stop it.” Trinity bustled from her ringside spot and grabbed Lexi’s arm. Her bold red tunic and leggings were as vibrant as the rest of her, a bullfighter ready to engage the bull. “No one could have anticipated this.”

  “Um, yeah,” Lexi said. “I could have, seeing as how I was the last thing Maxis swiped.”

  The comment jogged Ludan’s focus. “Where the hell is Jagger?”

  Lexi waved Ludan off and plodded to the bench situated on one side of the huge hall. “They had a lead come in on Sully right when we figured out the journal was gone. Reese is the better tracker in this kind of situation, so Jagger went to check it out.”

  A sensible decision, especially with all the guards around, but Ludan still didn’t like it. “I’m checking in with Ramsay. You two stay in my line of sight.”

  Lexi dropped her head back against the stone wall and screwed her mouth up in a semi-playful/ironic twist. “I see you’re in your usual glorious mood.”

  He grunted in lieu of an answer and strode toward the veranda. He should have paid more attention. Should have listened to his instincts. He reached for his father through their link. “She safe?”

  “Safe and getting dressed. I caught her coming out of her bedroom after hearing shouts on the castle perimeter. I told her it was just a precaution and that I’d walk her down when she’s ready.” Graylin paused and the link buzzed with something odd. Uncertainty maybe. “I like her.”

  Nope, not uncertainty. More like hope. “You’re reading too much into it.”

  “Probably. But old men are allowed their wishful thinking. I’ll bring her to you…err…Eryx when she’s ready.”

  Ludan dropped the link. Better to say nothing than dig a deeper hole at this point. He halted beside Ramsay, who was finishing up with orders.

  “Wes, you scan the warriors stationed here for the last forty-eight hours. Troy, I want all castle workers rounded up and questioned. Any missing people, or suspicious memories, warrant them being taken into custody. That room was off limits to non-family. If anyone so much as stepped a toe in there in the last month, I want to know.”

  The two men nodded and launched skyward.

  “Another inside job?” Ludan said.

  Distraction and a whole lot of pissed off colored Ramsay’s answer. “If it is, it’s fresh. Everyone who’s been on duty here the last month has volunteered for unfiltered, regular scans. Warriors and workers.”

  “Any chance someone could’ve gotten past the guards?”

  Ramsay shook his head and watched two guards patrolling the massive garden fronting the castle. “Not likely. It’s been too calm. Unless there’s some kind of chaos, energy patterns are easy to detect, especially with my elites.” He hesitated, spun, and studied the open entrance. “The day I went to Winrun.”

  “What about it?
”

  Ramsay snapped to attention and hit Ludan’s gaze head-on. “Shit got crazy right before I left for Winrun. Men were all over the place looking for Trinity. That would have been a perfect time for someone to slip in if they were skilled enough.”

  Ludan scoffed and crossed his arms. “Serena’s not that skilled.”

  “Doesn’t mean she hasn’t found a new lackey.”

  True. Though how people, particularly men, always fell for the sweet-talking blonde never ceased to amaze him. Even Eryx had fallen for her shit for a short time. Right up until he’d had his first dream of Lexi.

  Eryx’s voice cut through his head, disgust mingling with the echo that went with his multiperson message. “The place is clean.”

  Ludan and Ramsay took the message as the summons it was and headed to the library. By the time they got there, Lexi and Trinity were already inside, Trinity at Eryx’s desk and Lexi at her own, rifling through the drawers like they weren’t yet convinced the whole thing wasn’t a misunderstanding.

  Eryx glared out the towering window at the end of the room. Ludan knew that posture. Aggression and raw power barely leashed. He’d bet his Evad bank accounts the whites of Eryx’s eyes glowed brighter than the sun outside, a warning sign that his malran was a breath away from all histus breaking lose.

  Reese strode toward them, more contained than Eryx but still sporting a wicked scowl.

  “A big goose egg, huh?” Ludan said.

  Reese glanced over his shoulder at Eryx. “Not a trace. Definitely a feminine residue around Lexi’s desk, but I’d expect that since it’s hers. Nothing stands out that shouldn’t already be there.”

  Cocking his head to one side as though listening, Ramsay paced a few steps away. He braced one hand on his hip and fisted the hair on the top of his head a second later. “Damn.”