Kindred of the Fallen (30 page)

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Authors: Isis Rushdan

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fiction

BOOK: Kindred of the Fallen
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“Yes, it’s very strong.”

“Well, you have a similar connection to the rest of us. It’s not as strong and won’t feel quite the same, but it’s there.”

“Maybe Talus was right and there’s something wrong with me. I can’t feel the rest of you.”

Abbadon smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You feel us on some unconscious level, you said it yourself. As you learn to distinguish between the vibrations and tap into your energy, the connection you feel to us will become stronger. We need to raise the energy level of your vibrations. Once we do, it’ll make it easier for Talus. Her level of consciousness is not as evolved as mine or even Cassian’s. It would be hard for her to feel the connection with any Kindred who vibrated on a lower level.”

“Once we raise the level of my vibrations, will things be different with her?”

“She has additional obstacles to overcome where you’re concerned.”

“Like what?”

“We each have a path riddled with trials. They are all different and all the same.”

She stared at Abbadon, waiting for him to explain further.

“During training today, we’ll focus on control,” he said, changing the subject. “When you tapped into your gift in the gym what were you feeling?”

“Anger, but mostly I wanted to teach Talus a lesson, so she wouldn’t misuse her physical superiority when she’s supposed to be training me.”

“When you projected an image of Evan the other day, were you only thinking about seeing him again, feeling sadness over your parting?”

“Yes. And I also thought about my father.”

“What triggered your thoughts of your father?”

“I’m worried about Evan. I don’t know if he’s okay or if he might try to hurt himself. After my mother abandoned us, I lost my father so suddenly and in such a violent way. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to Evan.”

“Do you feel responsible somehow for your mother leaving and your father’s death?”

“No.” A wound reopened in her heart, the ache dull and deep. “Yes.”

“I want you to start with some deep breathing to relax. As the breath flows in and out, I want you to think about freeing yourself from anger, pain, sadness and fear.”

Abbadon had her breathe for an hour. Then he led her through a series of flowing Tai Chi poses. He had her repeat the movements until she could do them alone from memory.

“Wonderful,” he said gently. “Here.” He handed her a blindfold. “Put this on. I want you to continue moving through the poses no matter what happens.”

Fear leapt up into her throat. She held her breath and stared at him. He stood patiently holding the blindfold. His eyes were kind and he gave her a smile. She took the blindfold and put it on. The poses were simple. She went through the moves slowly as he’d taught her.

“Your emotions can be a well-spring of power for you to draw from.” His voice traveled as if he were walking around. “It can make you strong and effective, enabling you to use your gift with precision.”

She continued to flow steadily through the movements as he spoke.

“If your emotions control you, they will serve as a leak, draining you and making you weak. Or they will make you impulsive and erratic. Either you will leave yourself vulnerable by not being able to defend yourself or you’ll hurt others unintentionally.”

A loud pop followed by sharp pain across her back made her cry out. Abbadon had struck her with something. She yanked off the blindfold. He held a long, thin reed.

“Maintain a steady state of mind by focusing on your breath. Put the blindfold back on and continue to flow through the poses quietly, no matter what,” he said in a velveteen voice.

She hesitated but put the blindfold back on. As soon as she started to perform the movements, he struck her again on the arm.

She flinched and grunted, but didn’t cry out. She understood what he was trying to achieve, but it was impossible to have a Zen state of mind through the pain.

“You thought your mother left because she wanted something else in the world more than you. That your father wasn’t enough. That you weren’t enough. You think she never came back for you because you were insignificant.”

He hit her left calf and she bit down on her lip.

“You abandoned Evan Wade after sixteen years because you found something you wanted more. And now you worry for him because his suffering is your fault. The way you suffered because of your mother.”

He struck her thigh twice and tears rolled down her face.

“Evan had a life and a future before he met you. He could have been happy and successful, and had a family.”

He hit her lower back and then her hamstrings. Every strike was followed by an intense sting that seared her body, but the lash of his tongue lacerated her heart.

“You took all of that away from him because you were selfish and weak. Deep in your heart, you always knew you didn’t belong with that human. But you stayed with him for sixteen years because you cared more about yourself than you did him.”

The blow to her stomach made her double over.

“You’ve used your childhood as an excuse to put yourself before others. To take,” he said and whipped her left arm, “rather than to give makes you weak, not strong.” He struck her right arm.

Pain, caustic and cruel, overflowed from her heart. She ripped off the blindfold. “You should’ve told me what to expect from today’s lesson so I could prepare myself.”

“There will be many things that will happen in your life for which you are unprepared. You must learn to face those challenges with control.”

Wicked energy bubbled. Raw. Explosive. The throbbing agony of her limbs concentrated her focus with pinpoint precision on her energy stream. Her life force burned brightly and electricity churned in her gut. The ache in her heart made the energy swell and she wanted to release it. She threw the blindfold at his feet.

“We’re just getting started. Pick it up.”

She pivoted and stormed out of the meditation room. She ran out to the garden, down a path to the lemon grove. Out on the lawn, Cassian played with the dogs. She considered going over to him, so he could heal her, but everything Abbadon had said made her want to cling to the pain, instead of being absolved for misguided intentions and selfish actions.

Evan was sinking in despair and it was her fault. She slumped to the ground and leaned against a tree with her arms wrapped around her knees. She’d been naïve when she’d first slept with him.

It’d been weakness that allowed her to accept his friendship, knowing in the end he’d get hurt, knowing he’d hate her. It was the way of things in the human world for her. She’d been weak to stay with him, weak to hang on to the one connection she’d forged. She didn’t even have the courage to continue her lesson with Abbadon. But there was no hiding from the truth. His words tumbled over in her mind. The energy in her core continued to simmer. She wiped her eyes and refused to shed one more tear for herself.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Mounting anxiety swirled with brutal hunger inside of Cyrus after meeting the oracle and personally seeing to her remains. When he trudged into the kitchen, a mix of mouthwatering aromas pounced, driving the urgency for sustenance to the top of his priority list. Nothing could be done about the oracle’s prediction at the moment, but it was time he tracked down the mercs and shared more with his mate.

Both their lives hung in the balance, and she had to understand exactly what was at stake.

“Is dinner ready?” He’d called Mrs. Carter from the car to arrange everything. A simple dinner in the bedroom, where he could explain things to Serenity without being disturbed, followed by a quick shower, and the rest of the evening curled around his
kabashem
.

“I set up a table up in your room. I have spaghetti puttanesca or eggplant parmesan for you two. Which would you prefer?”

He guzzled a glass of water. “Both. No steak by any chance?” He salivated at the prospect of cutting into a big, juicy piece of meat.

“You said you wanted to have the same meals as Serenity.”

He nodded, vaguely recalling his own instructions. “What you’ve prepared is perfect.”

Cassian rushed into the kitchen headed for Cyrus. “I need to speak with you.”

“Fine, but grab that bowl of spaghetti.” Cyrus took the eggplant and the red wine breathing in the decanter.

On the landing up the stairs, Cassian said, “Talus left the house. She’s going to stay at the brownstone in the city.”

“What? Why?”

Cassian quickened his pace into the bedroom, then set the dish on the table set with linen and china. “Things have gotten kind of worse between her and Serenity.”

“Really?” What could have happened in a few hours to make things so much worse? “Find Serenity and ask her to join me for dinner.”

Cassian nodded and hurried out of the room.

Whipping out his cell phone, Cyrus grinded his jaw. He had enough to deal with besides the addition of a petty female squabble. The phone rang twice, then Talus answered.

“Don’t speak, just listen. I don’t know what happened. I don’t need to know. If you want to spend some time away from the family, you may do so in a hotel at your own expense, but Cassian will not stay in the city to coddle you.”

He kicked off his boots in an attempt to decompress. “You have five days to correct your attitude and remember your place. We’ll leave the house together for the opening night gala. You will not be on time, you will be early. Afterwards, you’ll return to Valhalla. Am I clear?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ll give Serenity a proper apology, one filled with humility and sincerity.”

“But you don’t even know what she did.”

“I’ve had a long day and haven’t eaten. Do you want to play this game with me now?”

Silence.

“I didn’t think so,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt. “Five days.” Click.

After pouring two glasses of wine, he reclined in his chair, sliding his bare feet on the carpet, and gazed out at the fading light over the lake.

Ereba’s cryptic doom-and-gloom message rattled in his mind.

If he’d kneel before one who could only feel pain, it had to be one of the immortals, but he wouldn’t set eyes on one of them until the next Pesedjet. And that was at least forty years off. They never left the Citadel of Lights for any other reason, and he was more likely to be struck by lightning than to go to House Aten. He wanted to dismiss the crazy prediction, but the growing tightness in his gut warned against it.

First, he’d speak to his mate about Talus. Then he’d have to find a way to tell her about breaking the curse. He still had time to ease her into the idea of having his child. She didn’t smell close to being in heat, but he had to tell her before she entered her fertile time of
esuratus
, a single day when she could conceive.

In the beginning, his plan had been to bed her as quickly as possible, and then to mate with her as often as possible until her womb carried a child. Somewhere from concept to execution, her heart and happiness had become more important.

He couldn’t mate with her while she was in heat until she knew the truth and agreed.

His energy stream jostled in response to hers approaching. As their anima melded to one, he couldn’t see her yet, but anger and pain scorched the surface of their joined pool of life.

Serenity rounded the corner, eyes blazing, jaw clenched.

He took a deep swallow of wine and stood. “I want this quarrel with Talus to end. It’s gone on long enough.” Better to cut straight to it.

“Talus?” She stopped short. “What exactly do you expect me to do about Talus?”

Cyrus gulped more wine, reassessing the situation. Airing the issue with Talus should’ve been the quickest way to restore her equanimity, but now he suspected Talus wasn’t the source of her current sour mood.

“Talus is a spoiled, jealous child, but I need you to remove age from the equation and think of your position. I expect you to rectify the situation.”

Her eyes narrowed to menacing slits as she planted fists on her hips. “How do you suggest I resolve it?”

He weighed his words. “With simplicity, honesty and humility.”

“Are you ordering me or asking me?”

Cyrus sank back in the chair—his patience over the situation waning with each second—and draped a napkin in his lap. “My love, I need you to rise to the occasion. I don’t want chaos in my house. Harmony needs to be restored. And only you can make that happen. The well-being of our household is in your care.”

Ire simmered between them.

“Now sit so we can eat.” He put food on both of their plates.

“Is that another order?”

He slammed the bowl of pasta down, shaking the table. “What in the hell is wrong with you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the mystical child we’re supposed to produce that’ll change everything?”

Cyrus shook his head. “I need to speak with Abbadon.”

“This is about you,” she said, stabbing the air in his direction with a finger, “hiding the truth from me, making love to me without being honest. What was your plan? To wait until you loaded a bun in the oven to tell me you’re a baker on a mission!”

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