Between the Waters (Symphony of Light) (22 page)

I struggled to gain footing as he tightened his hold on my hair. Overton gurgled and spit, unable to form words.

Lafavre began to thrash and scream for what seemed to be no reason. “No. No. I won’t allow it. No.”

With his movements my head was yanked in different directions. “Stop it. Let go!”

He released my hair, throwing me to the ground and fell on me, convulsing.

After several minutes he went still. I struggled to get out from under him. His hand grasped my arms. “Linden, it’s me. Stop. Please. Stop. Help me. Please.”

Moreaux was back. It was a struggle for possession. “I don’t know how long I can stay in control. You have to do it. Do it now.”

“Do what?”

He cupped my face. “You have to kill me. Please. It’s the only way.”

“What? I can’t. Besides, I don’t know how.”

He reached over and loosened Overton fingers from around the knife and handed it to me.

I was reluctant to take it. He closed my fingers around the hilt.

“He’ll keep you prisoner. He thinks it’s helping you. He orchestrated all of this without my knowledge. I have no control over him. I don’t know how he was able to fool me. You have to destroy me. He’ll damn the world. But most of all he’ll torture you but call it love.”

“I can’t.”

Tears flowed heavy, clouding my vision. He lifted the knife wrapped in my hand to his chest. Overton had brought Cyril’s knife. The one I used to kill Michael and my aunt. The only thing I knew capable of killing Moreaux had been placed in my hand.

“Do it now!”

“No.”

“You’d rather me be damned forever? Haven’t I paid enough for everyone’s mistakes? Now. Do it now!”

The sob left my throat, and he pressed the knife harder against his chest. “Why does it have to be me? Kill yourself!”

“He’ll find a way to stop me. Now!”

The sound of claws hitting pavement, Rhys’s battle cry, and the hum of Cyril’s magic, a backdrop to the man who began to mumble atop me. The thrashing began again, and I allowed my arm with the knife to rest on the ground as I tried to roll out from underneath him, but he was too heavy. He grabbed me by the throat.

“If you ever listen to him I will punish you beyond compare.” Before Lafavre could catch my arm, I planted the knife in his back. I could never bring myself to add to Moreaux’s suffering, but allowing Lafavre feel the sting of death gave a frightening satisfaction.

“No!” he screamed as he tried to pull the knife from his back, but it was sharp, made for piercing, and my strength, when fueled by anger, was impressive. He fell onto his side to the concrete. I wouldn’t make him wait one moment longer than necessary. As soon as his last breath left his lungs, I tore a piece of my dress, placed my hands on his chest, and gathered his souls. I closed my eyes, said my prayer as the chant left my lips, and cast the silvery dust into the air.

I was relieved Moreaux did not explode into dust as Michael had done, but Michael was not of this world. Moreaux was created here. Not having to remember the tortured man’s cold dead eyes would have been a blessing, but the lasting repercussions of Michael’s demise were everlasting.

I turned to Overton, who lay staring at me, shivering from blood loss. He witnessed my execution.

I knelt beside him and brushed his damp hair out of his eyes. “Can you heal yourself?”

His lips formed the word no, but no sound emerged.

“Are you sure you’ll be OK? Just blink once for yes, two for no.”

He blinked once.

“Should I remove the glass?”

He blinked twice. I figured as much, since it would only amplify the blood loss.

I touched his face, and he pressed it into my palm.

I moved and reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small pocketknife I knew he carried.

When I looked upon his face, more tears escaped. I opened the blade and slid it across my wrist and brought it to his mouth. The sting was easy to ignore with the numbness of trauma.

“Drink.”

He didn’t obey.

“Please.”

Pressing my wrist harder against his mouth, I felt his tongue touch my skin.

“That’s it, drink. Stanton, I need you to know something.”

His eyes widened, but he kept lapping. With each one his shivering lessoned.

“I love you. I love you more than I know how to tell you. I love you so much that I refused to tell you until this moment.”

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, while my own flowed like a river.

He blinked and attempted to shake his head.

I took my wrist from his mouth and lowered my mouth to his. Against his lips I breathed. “I love you enough to let you go.” I stripped the ring from my finger, clutched it tight in my fist, focused the will never to see him almost die again into my blood-stained kiss, and sealed it with the remainder of the magic contained within me. With the bond broken, I lifted my head. Black dust sifted through my fingers and landed on his unconscious form. The ring as shattered as our connection. The mixture of my blood and his left a metallic-sweet taste in my mouth. The magic, stress, and turmoil left a buzzing in my head.

Several minutes later Cyril appeared covered in blood and with his wings manifested once again. He bent to pick me up. I scurried out of his reach, and bewilderment crossed his face.

“Him. Take Overton. He’s hurt. Are the others OK?” I was afraid to ask.

He glanced at Moreaux’s supine body and looked at me. “They will survive, but what did you do now?” He reached down, pulled the knife from Moreaux’s back, and handed it to me.

One tiny object had been the center of so much of my guilt. “Moreaux asked me to kill him. Lafavre is responsible for all of this, with Vidius’s help.”

Cyril bowed his head and inhaled deeply. “That’s not all you’ve been up to.”

“Take Stanton. I’ll make my confession later.”

He reached down and pulled the large glass shard from Overton’s abdomen.

He lifted Overton into his arms.

“Take care of him.” Under my breath I whispered, “And forgive me.”

He placed one large finger under my chin, lifting my gaze to meet his. “Don’t delay.”

A soft, “OK,” was all I could manage. What was the right thing to say?

One lingering moment to take in the two men I loved more than anything standing against the backdrop of destruction that was now my life. Cyril launched into the air.

On my way to find Rhys, I was struck by how the lives lost, tragedies born of momentary decisions, and loves so complicated they defy reason, served a testament of who I had become. On that night, I stood between the waters sustaining life and ferrying death; I called forth a god using the power of the earth. But had I listened to Overton’s urging all of these people would still be alive. Was Cyril’s homecoming always destined to be a bloodbath? Would I have had the power to practice magic with any lesser degree of will?

I stepped over bodies, and Rhys waved to me. Beside him was a beast. I paused.

“Don’t worry,” he yelled. “It’s Clarence.”

Rhys threw his arms around me, but there was distance in his touch. “I was worried about you.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of worried about me too.”

“Dominic will get everything cleaned up here. Cyril will make sure everything gets back in order. I told you, you had it in ya to bring him back.”

“Yes, Cyril.” I was not sure why he felt like a stranger. I was not sure what I expected. What could I expect from him? Would he still want me? With the bond broken, Rhys’s behavior was different, and I underestimated how much I had grown to enjoy his lust-filled banter and constant innuendo. If I noticed the difference in Rhys, where would that leave Cyril?

“Come on, Clarence.” Rhys motioned for Clarence to follow and opened the back door of Thor’s car to let him in. “He’s a lot quieter this way. Nice change.”

Clarence growled.

I opened the door and fell into the passenger seat.

Rhys climbed in on the opposite side of the car with Clarence.

Thor threw the car in gear. “I’m glad you’re OK.” He patted my knee. “Let’s get you home to Cyril.”

Chapter Sixteen

Reunion

When I arrived at the house I went to check on Overton. Even though I may have broken the bond that tied him to me, my love for him was not so easily quieted.

Rhys walked with me. He noticed my concern as I gazed upon Overton’s empty room. “Sweetness, it’s OK. He’ll be all right.” Beyond his tamed libido, Rhys treated me no differently since the bond had been broken.

“I know. But it doesn’t take away his pain. Where is he?”

“Cyril healed him. You don’t need to worry, he’ll be back policing my lack of wardrobe in no time.”

I tried to force a smile.

“Go get cleaned up. I have to see if I need to get Clarence a water bowl or if he’s going to shift back.”

“OK.”

With his sleeve, he polished off a spot on my forehead and kissed it. “Sorry, but there wasn’t a clean spot available. Hey, cheer up. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Not for Moreaux.”

He cleared his throat. “I hate to see anyone die, but if he caused this, you did him a favor. Sinclair would have tortured him before he killed him.”

“It wasn’t him; it was Lafavre with Vidius’s help.”

“We’re heading to the compound tomorrow.”

“What will you do?”

“Kill anything that attacks. Chin up, sweetheart. You did the right thing. Now go find Cyril. You two have some lost time to make up for.” He kissed the clean spot one more time and limped away. I heard him mumble under his breath, “Fucking beast.”

Our time apart was what worried me. He endorsed my fling with Overton, but that was while under the influence; how would he react now that I broke the bond? What would he think of the things I’d done? I stood in Overton’s doorway realizing I had never seen his bedroom. He had spent every night of Cyril’s absence with me. My heart broke a little more. I was such an emotional and physical mess. Blood, tears, and sweat stained my dress while nerves formed a pit in my stomach. I wished for a good night’s sleep before confronting Cyril.

Something caught my attention on Overton’s impeccably made bed. It was a red envelope with white swirling scrollwork decorating the cover and my name written in black script. A sick feeling filled my stomach. I did the right thing. I had to keep reminding myself. I had Cyril. I belonged to him. Overton deserved to be free. I slid my finger along the seam and pulled out the note card. The ornate initials SMO covered the front in white against a scarlet background. I took a deep breath before looking inside.

Dearest Linden,

I am sorry for my abrupt departure, but there is something urgently in need of my skills. Cyril and the others will raid the compound tomorrow night. From your accounts of its contents, Vidius might be using gene therapy in conjunction with magic. My medical and scientific expertise will be vital to our understanding of this new threat. So please forgive me. I will be staying in Cyril’s cabin in the meantime to be closer to my work.

I will never be able to thank you enough for what you have done for me. Sometimes we are the worst judges of our own desires.

I wish you luck and will say a prayer for patience. Cyril can be a trying bugger. My best to you as you and he embark on your life together.

Overton

Tears fell, smearing the ink on the page; his letter seemed so cold, so professional. Even though it only helped to solidify my decision, a selfish part of me didn’t want to lose him. Breaking the bond did nothing for my affections. I had fallen in love with him.

Why did everything have to be so complicated? I wished my heart could be ripped in two and a piece handed to each of them, but that was not the way of things.

I climbed the stairs, stopping on each one to consider a different strategy. My hand shook as it held the railing. When I reached the top step, I took a deep breath before turning the handle.

I opened the door. The room was empty. My sigh of relief echoed off the panes of glass featuring the city skyline. Still flashing with the blue and red lights from police and rescue vehicles, I wondered how Dominic would spin this one to the press.

Then another thought hit me—what if Cyril was so mad or disgusted he didn’t bother to see me at all. Just when I thought nothing could be worse than being part of his world, it occurred to me that they could abandon me at any moment. Could I even survive in the mundane world anymore?

The bed looked so inviting, but I was covered in blood and things better forgotten. I walked into the bathroom. The door closed behind me. Before I could turn around, I was pinned against the wall. He lifted my dress and ripped my panties. Cyril.

“If you don’t want me, say so now.” He made no effort to hide his accent. The rich, deep tones of his voice stirred feelings so irrational that only something as ridiculous as love could explain it. But this was love with Cyril, and it wasn’t easy.

“Since when do you give me a choice?”

“You’ve always had a choice, but you’re trying my patience. Do you have any idea what battle does to me?” He parted my legs with his hand and ran his fingers through my wetness. I couldn’t deny him if I wanted to. He owned my soul.

He thrust into me and reached around to cup my breast while whispering in my ear, “I’ve missed you so much.”

His hammering cock rendered me speechless, halting each word. His acceptance and pleasure removed all thoughts. My skin reacted to him unlike anyone else as though feeding an ache I didn’t know I had.

He caressed my nipple with his thumb, sending electricity through me. “Stop worrying. I know. I know it all.” He kissed my ear.

“How?”

He ground his hips into me, driving him deeper. His groan reverberated off the tile.

I whimpered.

His stubble scraped my neck as he kissed just below my ear. “Light, I promise I will answer all your questions. We can talk soon, but now I need you, as much as I need air. Not once, but over and over again. I need to know you’re mine.”