Waking Eden (The Eden Series Book 3) (29 page)

S
erena peeked
around one of the tall twin pillars marking the front castle garden entrance, her mask fortified by Uther behind her.

“Popular place,” he whispered in her ear.

“Too popular.” Something was up. She’d anticipated increased guards after Lexi’s capture months before, but warriors prowling the perimeter with shrewd, calculating eyes screamed red alert. Far more security than what was needed to keep those inside protected. “I’m not sure even Eryx or Ramsay could navigate masked through that many men.”

“Hunger and desperation make pretty effective teachers. I don’t give a shit how powerful they are. I doubt any Shantos ever had that kind of motivation.”

A petty thief. She’d heard of such stories, young Myrens in need of food honing their skills on simple street vendors. Something she’d need to think on. Maybe try to hone her own gifts. Assuming she got past today. “You really think you can get us inside?”

“On my own, easy. Carting you along for the ride? It’s a crapshoot. Better if you just tell me where you think the translations are and let me go in.”

“I don’t know exactly.” Not a complete lie. “I might have had full run of the castle once, but I rarely went beyond the public rooms or Eryx’s suite.”

“Then tell me what you know and I’ll explore the rest.”

No way. The key was in there. It had to be. “I’m going with you. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

Keeping one hand at her shoulder, he covered her hand where it rested against the gray stone pillar. “Give me your link.”

She started to turn.

Uther clamped her shoulder and held her in place. “Don’t move.” He waited long enough to ensure she’d comply then relaxed his fingers. “I don’t like the idea of being tied to you any more than you like it, but whispering’s not going to cut it once we’re in the thick of it.”

Histus, no, she didn’t like it. Links meant vulnerability. The Great One only knew what other special gifts Uther had yet to reveal.

The castle doors burst open and one of the Shantos brothers stormed onto the wide veranda. No braids, so it had to be Ramsay. Eryx never went anywhere without those barbaric commitment braids. Odd, though. Ramsay’s hair was bound as well.

Two warriors rushed from the gardens to meet him, both elites, given the white gold torques and wrist cuffs.

“Can you get us closer?” Serena whispered to Uther.

Uther hesitated. “Halfway. No further. And if you deviate from any direction I give, I’ll leave you to fend for yourself. Understand?”

“Agreed.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and levitated them both. “Regulate your breathing. Stay calm and do not move.”

They floated forward on an odd pattern. Slow. Swift. Then nothing at all. A kind of ebb and flow, like the lap of small waves at the shore’s edge. Wind. He was working with the breeze. Blending into it.

Damn, but she should have formed the link. How was she going to convey direction to Uther without it?

“…the gardens twice and the perimeter nonstop,” the dark-headed warrior said to Ramsay as Serena and Uther drifted into hearing range. “If she’s outside, she’s well beyond the castle by now.”

“The castle’s clean,” the blond said. “Any place else you want us to cover?”

Ramsay spun, looked back at the castle, and fisted his hair at the top of his head, pulling a good chunk of what he’d bound free. Something glittered on his forearm.

Serena shifted for a better angle.

Uther’s hands tightened in warning.

A mark. The son of a bitch was mated. And not to just anyone apparently, but someone related to Lexi, the same damned ivy-twined sword stretching the length of his arm. Slightly different though. Black like most marks, but with gold and silver highlights in it.

He faced his men. “No. I think I know where she is.” He focused on the dark-headed one. “Take half the men. Round up Angus Rallion’s page and Serena Steysis. Bring them to the training center.”

Serena flinched inside Uther’s nearly crushing grip.

“Any charges?” the warrior asked.

“Voluntary.” Ramsay stared toward the ocean. “Hold them there until Eryx arrives. He’ll know what to do.” He pinned the blond warrior with a cold glare. “Keep the rest of the men here on high alert. No one gets in or out you don’t know.”

The men dipped their heads once and took off in separate directions. Ramsay scanned the perimeter, hands fisted at his side, then shot to the skies.

“You wanna make it back before they do, we have to go now,” Uther said quietly.

As the blond warrior marched down the veranda barking orders, the men combing the grounds paired off. Fewer warriors meant more access. If she could find that key, she’d never answer to another man. Ever.

Who knew what Eryx wanted her for. If she played it safe and went home, she might never get this chance again. “I’m staying.”

“There’s no going back from this. Fugitives rarely know where their next meal is coming from, let alone live with a staff that sees to their needs. You sure you’re ready for that?”

Fugitive. No safety net. Her neck burned with tension, and her heart pulsed so heavily it hurt. She covered his hand at her waist with her own and pushed her energy through and up his forearm. “Give me your link. We’re going in.”

T
rinity stood
beside the ceremonial slab and ran her fingers along the cold, black and white swirled marble. Everything in Winrun was one or the other, stark black or purest white. Everything, that was, save the varied hair colors and skin tones of the people who lived there. Even the sky was white, every surface beneath her feet a never ending ebony that left her feeling like she’d fall at any given moment.

“You don’t have to do this.” Kazan’s voice was thick with emotion. Garbled almost. “Think before you act.”

She let her hand fall to her side and glanced at the Black King and White Queen at either end of the waist-high slab. “Ramsay needs me. My new family needs me.”

“Not like this, they don’t. You know the penalty for interfering.”

Trinity whirled and faced him. “Was being with my mother worth the cost?”

Kazan jerked back. “That’s different.”

“How? You loved her. I love Ramsay. This will help him.”

“It’s different because the destiny I messed with dealt with two people, not two races. This is a big deal, kiddo. Not the kind of thing that comes with a tiny ten-year, but painful slap on the wrist.”

The slab stood like a gravestone behind her. Cold and so very final.

“Think about it,” Kazan said. “My interference cost me ten years of pain, but it cost your mother her sanity and her life. She never knew why I’d been taken from her. Imagine how alone she felt. How devastated. If you can’t think of the price you’ll pay, think of the pain you’ll deal Ramsay.”

“Ramsay would pay it to save his race.”

“Are you sure? Do you really think he’d give you up? Even to save his race? Because I don’t.” He held his silence until she met his eyes. “Please, sweetheart. Don’t do this. Trust them to find a way. Encourage him, but don’t—”

“You’re crossing the line, Kazan.” The Black King’s voice rumbled like thunder. “Her will is her own.”

“I’m her father, not her Spiritu.”

The Black King’s eyes met hers, warm and chilling all at once. “It’s her choice.”

“Then give her the facts.” Kazan lurched forward, invading the Black King’s space. “You know what she means to do. Tell her what the consequences are if she goes through with it.”

“She knows enough to weigh her conscience,” the king said. “No decisions can be made with absolute certainty. Hers are no exception.”

“Does it hurt?” Trinity asked.

The Black King smiled, slow and sensual. Her body heated instantly, the pleasure so intense she could barely pull in a full breath. “Far from it. Your body was made to cradle your gifts. It will welcome your powers the way a mother welcomes her babe. Nestle into your soul the way you curl around your mate late at night.”

Something tugged at her heart. To accept her gifts? Or to return to Ramsay? Surely this was the right thing. A purpose that served the greater good.

“Can you face the punishment, Trinity?” her father said quietly. “Is it worth never seeing Ramsay again?”

Her pleasure or Ramsay’s entire life? That’s what it really came down to. If someone else led the Myren race, someone not as fair as the Shantos line, what would happen to his race? Or humans?

She faced the black and white marble and pressed both hands against its chilly surface. The colors seemed to move and swirl on their own, imitating the riotous emotions pushing and pulling her heart. She could do this. Ramsay would do it for her. “I want this.”

* * *

R
amsay paced
the black rock ledge outside his lodge, impatience and fear crippling what speck of logic he had left. Trinity wasn’t in the lodge, not that he’d really expected her to be. In his gut, he knew where she was.

Winrun.

There had to be a way to get there. To stop her. But damned if his head would get its shit together and form some kind of strategy.

The ocean wind whipped a few loose chunks of hair against his forehead and cheeks in an almost painful lash. Not nearly the punishment he deserved. He should’ve stayed with her. Should’ve made sure she knew she came before the prophecy.

He glared at the red-rimmed setting sun. He needed help. Bad. Maybe he should bounce some ideas off Eryx. Or Lexi. Lexi had a way of thinking things through. And she was a woman. The Great One knew he could use a little guidance in with navigating the feminine mindset right now.

“What am I? Chopped liver?”

Ramsay spun toward the lodge. No one behind him. No presence pinging against his Myren senses. Just the sun’s red reflected in the lodge’s window above and rocks, plants, and the fire pit on the terrace below.

“My presence won’t ever register unless I want it to.”

That voice. He knew it.

“Of course, you know it. Not that you listened to it very well up until now.”

His Spiritu. Vyree.

A circular space near the terrace wall wavered and a woman dressed all in black shimmered into view. She lay on her back atop the hip-high stone wall, one leg crossed over the other, casual as could be. Her maroon hair with its cobalt blue streaks hung loose, nearly to the ground.

“The waitress,” he said mostly to himself. He shook himself out of his stupor. “You were the waitress at Louis, the night Trinity and I went out.”

“Yep.” She rolled her head toward him, then propped herself on one elbow. “Couldn’t get you to listen to me the normal way. Figured I’d drop in and meddle face to face.” Her mouth screwed up in a dramatic pucker. “You’re a tough nut to crack, Ramsay Shantos. Good thing I’m not a quitter.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to show yourself.”

She swung upright, cocked her head, and grinned. “You want me to go? I could have sworn you were asking for help, but if you’d rather stick to folks you know—”

“No!” He stepped forward and then checked his impulse. The last thing he needed right now was to scare off someone with a roadmap to Winrun. “I didn’t know you were an option. I mean…” Damn, he was really fucking this up. “I mean I was too stupid to remember you were there.”

Vyree smiled so bright it seemed the setting sun moved in reverse and brightened the whole hillside. “Oh, that’s smooth. I’ll give you points for a quick save.” She swung her legs and hunched forward, gripping the side of the wall. “Do you have any clue what you’re about to go up against?”

“I know my baineann’s about to make a decision based on what she thinks I want instead of what she wants. If it means keeping her safe and making sure she’s making decisions for the right reasons, then it doesn’t really matter what I’m up against.”

Vyree’s legs kept swinging.

“Please,” he said. “Help me find her.”

Her legs stopped. “You’ll do anything?”

“Anything.”

“Whatever it takes?”

“Anything.”

She narrowed her eyes and an unnatural gust of wind tossed her wine-colored hair in a wild mess. With a sharp nod, she hopped off the wall and crossed her arms. “Good, ’cause penance for this is going to suck. Glad to know it’s going to be worth it.”

Thank The Great One. For a minute there, he’d thought she was Splitsville.

“You ever watch
The Wizard of Oz
?” she asked.

“The what?”

“
The Wizard of Oz
. You know, Dorothy, Toto, and the rest of the crew.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, she wanted to talk pop culture now? “Yeah, I know it.”

“It’s kind of like that,” she said. “‘There’s no place like home.’ That kind of thing.”

“You’re kidding me,” he bit back. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” She waved her hand at him in an up and down motion. “Close your eyes. Focus on your link and follow it.”

Hands down, this had to be the trippiest conversation of his lifetime. Not like he had a shit-ton-full of options right now, and she’d damn sure come through with the mating. He closed his eyes.

“Now focus,” she said. “Center on the link. Lose your physical self and follow it.”

He opened himself to the link and his body seemed to pitch to one side, like a boat caught off guard by a big wave.

“Yep, like that,” Vyree said. “Stay focused. Don’t let go.”

His stomach heaved. He’d done some crazy aerial antics, but this was brutal. Tilt-a-Hurl times twenty. “Praise The Great One…”

“Hang in there,” she said from not too far away. Her voice had dropped. Far more serious. “Don’t let go. Will it. Want it.”

A buzz started in his ears. Loud. Louder. Growing until he thought his eardrums would surely pop.

Silence.

Kazan growled from somewhere beside him, “What are you doing here?”

Ramsay opened his eyes. Pitch black stretched out beneath Ramsay and white fog surrounded everything else. At the end of the formless room was a tall marble slab with Trinity laid out on top, a white gauzy fabric covering her.

Kazan stood two steps down from Trinity, a murderous scowl on his face. At the foot of the slab stood the White Queen, hands clasped peacefully at her waist. The Black King hovered near Trinity’s head. He lifted his hands and held them over Trinity’s face.

“No!” Ramsay shot forward.

An unseen power circled his waist and jerked him to a stop just out of Trinity’s reach.

“You cannot stop what she has requested.” Though his lips hadn’t moved, the Black King’s voice rumbled all around.

“I’m not here to stop her.” The words shot out on instinct.

The Black King dropped his hands, twisted, and met Ramsay’s gaze. “What other purpose would bring you here?”

Ramsay scrambled for answers. The answer was important. He didn’t know how he knew it, but every part of him screamed to state his purpose carefully.

Vyree could help him. Maybe.

“Wow,”
Vyree said with a chuckle.
“Twice in one day. This will take some getting used to.”

He stifled a groan.
“Please. Help me.”

“It’s easy. Tell him what you told me.”

Fuck. He could barely remember what he had for breakfast, let alone all the serious conversations from today. He shook his head and replayed the time since Vyree had appeared.

A spunky faery. Realizing she was the waitress. Tough nut to crack. Making decisions for the right reasons…

“I just need to talk to her first,” he blurted. “If she wants her gifts because that’s what she wants, then I will fully support her. But if she wants them to give me answers, that’s the wrong reason. I need her to know before she accepts them that she comes first. Not the prophecy. Not my race. Not my family. Nothing comes before her.”

The White Queen dipped her head and covered her mouth, but smiled behind her fingers.

The force around his waist relented.

The Black King stepped to Trinity’s side and peeled the gauzy fabric back. He waved a hand over her face. “Your fireann is most anxious to speak with you.”

Trinity’s eyes fluttered open. She stared at the misty white cloud above them for one or two heartbeats and rolled her head toward him. “Ramsay.”

Ramsay closed the distance between them and gripped her hand. Cold. Too damned cold. “You don’t have to do this. I mean, if you want your gifts, I’m great with that. But I don’t need answers. Not like this.”

“What makes you think that’s why I’m here?”

“Lexi. She told me about your questions. And Brenna. She said you were worried. Scared.”

Her gaze drifted to Kazan, who’d moved in close. “A lot of people would be saved, Ramsay. Your people. My people.” She squeezed his hand. “Tell me the truth. You’d do it for me, wouldn’t you?”

He leaned in and brushed her hair off her forehead. “It’s not the same, Sunshine. I’d give anything for you. My family. My life. Anything.”

She smiled and a tear slid down her temple. “Exactly.” She stared at him for long seconds. Heartbeats that stabbed brutally within his chest. She lifted her gaze to the Black King. “Go ahead.”

A second, maybe less, and the same unforgiving force ripped him from Trinity’s side.

“This is wrong,” Kazan rumbled beside him. Even with his formidable size and strength, Trinity’s father fought against the same unbending force. “She’s doing this for the wrong reason. You know that. How can you let her do this?”

The Black King pulled the fabric back over Trinity’s head and her eyelids slid shut.

Ramsay struggled against the power coiled around him. “Trinity!”

“Damn it all!” Kazan banged against the invisible wall and the air between them rippled like a pebble cast against a smooth lake. He focused on the White Queen. “Stop this! She shouldn’t be forced to choose this way. It’s wrong.”

Ramsay dug his feet into the onyx ground and strained against the transparent wall. Every muscle stretched. Every ligament and bone creaked to the point of breaking.
Please, God. Not this. Not Trinity.

“If the circumstances change, she should be granted re-evaluation,” Kazan said to the White Queen. “Do you agree?”

The White Queen lifted her head, her expression tense.

“Do you agree?” Kazan asked again.

The White Queen nodded.

Kazan gripped Ramsay’s shoulder in an iron grip. “Then I forfeit. What I give him is freely given and my life forfeit.”

Trinity’s eyes opened.