Waking Eden (The Eden Series Book 3) (17 page)

He whirled her around and gripped her shoulders. “I’m going to go home, spar, and beat the fuck out of Ludan or Jagger until I can breathe without wanting to break something. Then you and I are going to have a very long talk.” He pried his hands free and took a step back, leaving a path to the doorway. “You can walk, or I can throw you over my shoulder, but either way, you’re going to Eden.”

S
erena drummed
her fingers on her father’s desk and studied his collection of liquors across the room. Crystal decanters filled with the finest Myren and human spirits, all neatly arranged on a mahogany bar, with vintage red wines angled in the racks below. She’d more than earned a drink. Several, really. Between almost being discovered slipping back into Sanctuary and Uther’s ultimatum, sleep would be a long time coming. A little boost before she went to bed wouldn’t be a bad idea.

But not until she talked to Thyrus, wherever he was.

She checked the sun’s position. Only thirty minutes since she’d sent for him. Barely enough to leave his house, let alone fly across the capital. This late at night, she’d be lucky if he answered at all.

Rows of leather-bound books in jeweled colors stretched beside the bar, most as crisp in their coloring as the day they’d been purchased, their spines barely even cracked, if at all. A show of sophistication more than academia. Unless, of course, it pertained to economics.

Well-worn, crimson journals lined a shorter row of shelves behind her father’s desk. The Great One only knew what secrets they held.

A knock sounded and Serena’s heart leapt. “Enter.”

The door clicked opened and their butler stepped into the library. His towering frame curled forward at the shoulders, his wiry, thinning hair more disheveled than normal. “The solicitor, Thyrus Monrolla, to see you.”

Thyrus lumbered into the room and angled toward the desk. He might have been out of breath, but his voice sounded not at all disturbed. “Your messenger said you had an urgent issue?”

Perhaps being summoned at all hours of the night was the norm in his line of work. Then again, she was compensating him for his time, and probably at an inflated rate. She settled back into her father’s chair. “I need access to the sacred archives.”

With a mangled tablet halfway free from his bag, Thyrus looked up. “The sacred archives?” His eyebrows lifted so high it was a wonder they didn’t smack his hairline. He stuffed his tablet back in the bag and harrumphed so forcefully a loose parchment fluttered to the floor. “If I’d known that’s what you were after, I could have saved us both some time and trouble. Only ellan and the royal family have access to those records.”

“I’m well aware of that. Unfortunately, my house arrest makes it such that you’re the only person I can reach out to without raising suspicions, and I need in those archives to protect myself.”

“To what end? The malran’s solicitor mentioned Eryx’s concerns and his visit. He also admitted your memories proved insubstantial. There’s no need for you to go digging around in ancient texts.” Thyrus peered down his nose at her. “As a side note, that was a terribly foolhardy move. I should be present for all such scans. My gifts and my status ensure the malran or those acting on his behalf keep to the time in question, and particularly far away from memories of our private conversations.”

Shit. She’d forgotten about those.

“I wouldn’t concern yourself.” He buckled the worn leather briefcase and tugged the flap tight. “The malran might not favor our race leading those lesser than us, but he usually acts with honor. I doubt he’d take action he couldn’t hold up to public scrutiny.”

Ah, but Eryx hadn’t been the one to look. Ludan had. And Ludan didn’t give a damn about scruples or public sentiment. Particularly when it came to her. What had she and Thyrus spoken of in recent days? Surely Ludan hadn’t been able to get the full breadth of their conversations with such brief contact.

Thyrus hefted his briefcase and turned to go.

“I still need the records. Translation tablets for our mother tongue. As far back as you can get them.”

He bumbled to a stop and faced her. “I’ve already told you. We can’t—”

“Contact Angus. If anyone can get in, he can. You’ve sold him on our ideas before. Maxis even went so far as to say he doubted anyone else could have lured Angus into our fold as eloquently as you did.” Nothing wrong with slathering Thyrus’ ego while she was at it.

“Those documents aren’t supposed to leave the sacred halls. If Angus is caught taking them past the front doors, he’d either be ejected from the council entirely or worse. Particularly with the bad blood between him and the malran. Even Maxis couldn’t have sold Angus on such a risk.”

“Not even if those texts pushed Eryx off the throne?” Serena stood and paced the room. She trailed her hand along the books beside her. “I don’t need everything. Only a few. The oldest he can find. If he’s smart about it, no one would be the wiser. For all I care, he can smuggle the damned things back as soon as we’re done.”

“We?”

Damn. If she didn’t get a grip on her emotions and thoughts, she’d end up hanging herself long before she reached her goals.

“Uther,” she said. “He’s got information we may be able to use against the malran, but it’s in the old tongue.” A vague enough statement to stir Thyrus and Angus’ interest. Not enough to admit she hadn’t actually laid eyes on said leverage. “Speaking of which, I need a few of our warriors. Two you’re sure are loyal to the Rebellion.”

Thyrus shook his head and crossed his arms. Barely. Hard to get a grip when you had to fight so much girth. “I’d have better luck convincing Angus to help us. The malran’s proclaimed all Rebellion men who surrender and offer what information they know will gain leniency. All the ones with a shred of common sense have taken him up on it. I’m not sure there’s a Rebellion man to be found at this point.”

Fantastic. An opportunity to unseat Eryx and she had a whopping army of none. She tapped her fingernail against the bookcase. There had to be a way to figure out what Uther was up to. Even with her piss-poor masking skills, she’d give combing his home a try if she could make it past the front door.

She’d deal with that task after she got this one under control. Four days was all she had to get her hands on the texts before Uther came calling. “Fine. Work on Angus and see what he can do.” She strolled back to her father’s desk and made herself at home in his well-worn chair. “One way or another, I’ll make sure it’s worth his risk.”

* * *

H
oly cow
. If Walt Disney could see Trinity now, he’d have put a whole different spin on Future World at Epcot. A cool gray fog surrounded her in a long and comfortably wide tunnel. Diamond-like sparkles glinted in vibrant shades of teal, cotton-candy-pink, and pearlescent white.

Ramsay’s hand tightened on her arm as they walked, whether to stop her from gawking or making sure she stayed upright, she wasn’t sure. God knew she had a right to swoon. She’d have happily skipped into the mystical portal on a normal day, but Ramsay swishing her out her apartment window and up into the skies like Superman kind of jumbled her insides.

Ludan’s deep, almost angry voice behind them seemed blasphemous in the peaceful space. “Eryx know we’re coming?”

Ramsay nodded. His jawline strained so hard it would probably snap in two if she so much as tapped it.

The surface beneath her feet shifted from something solid to mushy and inconsequential. She wobbled to the left.

Ramsay clenched her arm harder.

“I could have taken care of myself,” she muttered, more embarrassed than angry. If she was bound for public enemy number one in Ramsay’s world, she’d at least like to have a little grace in getting there.

A muscle flexed in Ramsay’s cheek.

“You’ve got the box,” she said. “You don’t need me anymore, so you may as well save yourself the pissed off bit and let me go home.”

He jerked to a stop, and Ludan and Jagger halted behind them. He glared at her for all of two seconds, then motioned Ludan and Jagger toward the sparkling darkness at the end of the tunnel.

Jagger rolled his eyes and shook his head, but the men marched on as directed.

Ramsay inched closer, his hand still brutally clamped around her arm. “You think I’m pissed about bringing you to Eden?”

“Oh, so now you want to talk. Well, fine. We’ll talk.” And then she’d make sure he knew exactly where he could stick it. “What I think is you’re mad I didn’t tell you about my secret sooner. But if you’d pull your head out of your butt, you’d see it’s the same thing you did to me. Only I forgave you. If you’re not willing to do the same, then let me go and quit punishing me. I did what I thought I had to do, same as you.”

He snapped back and studied her face. “It’s not the deception. It’s something I’m not even sure you’re in control of and not a topic I’m gonna dive into until I know you’re safe and I have a chance to clear my head.”

“Then do you think you can at least unwind the He-Man grip?” She rolled her shoulder to accent her point. “I can walk fine on my own and I’m not particularly partial to bruises.”

Instantly, he loosened his grip and shoved the sleeve of her T-shirt out of the way with the other. “Fuck.” His eyes met hers, and his silver gaze darkened to match the tunnel fog. “I’m sorry. I just…” He shook his head and refocused on the bruises already setting up shop. With a tender touch, he traced the patterns left behind on her skin.

A funny tingle filtered into her muscles, followed by a sharp sting and an odd knotting sensation. Like a flu shot, but in reverse.

He let her go and waved toward the end of the tunnel. “I’ll follow. If you need me—”

“I’ll be fine.” She stomped toward the exit. Stupid men and their double standards. She understood she’d hurt him holding back, but what the heck else could she do beyond apologize?

Ugh. She’d think about that later. She had her own issues to wrap her head around. Ramsay had said Eryx was expecting them, so maybe she’d get to see Lexi again. It’d be nice to have some time to get to know her, especially if they were related. Even better if they’d let her peek in the box and see if there were any mementos from her real family.

Not twenty feet from the tunnel’s edge, the fine hairs along her arms and the back of her neck stirred. Almost as if she’d walked into an electrically-charged cloud. Funny, but the air felt cooler too. The kind of chill that invigorated your body and made for perfect campouts and bonfires.

The bruises on her arm pulsed and burned. Not so chilly there.

She inhaled deep, and the crisp bite of grass and something floral whisked through the entrance now a stone’s throw away. Two more steps and—

Trinity stumbled onto a soft, yet far more substantial surface.

“Whoa!” Feminine hands reached out to catch her. “Easy.”

Lexi. And Eryx stood behind her.

“That’s a trickier exit than it looks,” Trinity said.

Ramsay cupped her elbow to steady her and a perfunctory thank you queued up on her tongue.

A fat silver streak shot across the sky and wiped the polite comment away along with the rest of her thoughts. Velvet night skies stretched as far as she could see with more of the sparkling streams streaking in random patterns. Even the grass—at least she thought it was grass—sparkled with a kind of metallic sheen.

“You made her walk her first time out?” Lexi asked and aimed a nasty glare at Ramsay.

“I offered to carry her.”

“You said I could walk or you’d sling me over your shoulder,” Trinity said. “You’ll forgive me if I opted for the upright option.”

“Christ, Ramsay what the hell’s wrong with you?” Lexi said.

Eryx tugged Lexi against his chest. “Let it be, hellcat.” He nodded toward a building in the distance, but kept his gaze locked on Ramsay. “Ludan and Jag are securing the box at the castle. Lexi can get Trinity settled in and give her a tour. Why don’t we head to the training grounds?”

Trinity spun in the direction he’d indicated. Her heart leapt a good two inches and she choked on a girlish squeal. A castle. A real, live castle made with soft gray stone and fanciful turrets glowing in the moonshine.

Ramsay barked, “I’ve got plans with Ludan.”

“Not anymore, you don’t.” Eryx kissed Lexi’s temple and nudged her toward Trinity. “I need a full rundown and you’re going to give it to me. You want to throw a few swings in the process to pull your ass out of the funk you’re in, then you’re welcome to try to land them.”

Trinity barely stifled a snort. Neanderthals. Every damned one of them. Dizziness rushed in behind the thought, and the spot on her arm throbbed angrily. She must have moved or swayed, because every head snapped in her direction.

Ramsay’s eyes narrowed and he stepped toward her. “You okay?”

She waved him off, and opened and closed her fist to stave off the sensation. “I’m fine.” More like a little buzzed, but who could blame her under the circumstances? “Go spew your anger somewhere else. Trust me, your prophecy pawn isn’t going anywhere soon.”

His gaze shot sideways, and his lips mashed together in a way that made her regret her words.

Eryx steered Ramsay away with a hand at his shoulder. The two men were identical in stature, the only difference between them Eryx’s nearly barbaric-looking braids, and Ramsay’s stiff, angry stride.

In the distance, a wide stone structure spanned about two football fields with flaming torches mounted in regular intervals along the walls.