White Fire: Timewalker Chronicles, Book 5 (18 page)

Ajax tried, in vain, to pay attention to the warriors seated all around him. The odd human construct known as Carhenge was detailed on maps and satellite imagery spread out over the surface of Teagh and Katherine’s kitchen table. The replica of England’s famous Stonehenge stood surrounded by farmers’ fields in Nebraska and was made from of old human automobiles painted gray to match the standing stones. The vehicles were positioned to copy the actual stones, even the broken and scattered pieces.

“Stupid place for an invasion.” Teagh leaned on the table, both palms flat and his black warrior’s uniform stretched over his bulk. “Why not drop into the middle of New York or L.A.? Somewhere with millions of people and even more places to hide.”

“I think it’s brilliant.” Emma twisted her head to look at the map. Her hair, still damp from her shower, a shower she’d taken without him, hung dark and beautiful framing the pale skin of her face. She wore stretchy dark pants that hugged every delectable curve of her ass and a simple cream-colored T-shirt that failed to completely cover the dark brown straps of her bra. Chocolate against her skin. It was damn distracting.

And if Nico didn’t stop staring at the female, he was going to punch that Darkwalker right in the face. Maybe even in the middle of his next sentence… “I think Emma’s right. It makes a twisted kind of sense. No one would ever look there. It’s isolated, privately owned, closed at night, and it’s capable of channeling the goddess’s power.”

Bran stood, brooding. “I don’t like it. The nearest town, Alliance, only has about eight thousand humans.”

“It’s enough. Most of the Triscani won’t need to devour any energy for a while, perhaps weeks. Many of us would go months between…” Nico’s voice trailed off and the weight of the ensuing silence reminded Ajax why they were all here in the first place. The Triscani devoured anyone and everything they came into contact with. Man, woman, child. Human or Itaran. It didn’t matter. And an unknown number of the monsters, perhaps thousands, were going to step from a Gate tomorrow night.

“Where’s Robbie?” Raiden looked around the room, his petite Marked Mate, Mari, glued to his side, as usual.

Robbie, or Robert, was cousin to Teagh’s Marked Mate, Katherine, and he not only had command of the Gates, he was the voice of the goddess. He’d volunteered for the spot when the goddess had taken Katherine’s female form as her own, an act that would have separated Katherine from the male she loved forever.

“No one can find him. Not even my boys. They’re pretty worried about him.” Katherine spoke up. She was their link to the human’s military arm, the Casper Project, where Robert was serving with a group of elite soldiers and people with extraordinary gifts. Katherine had been among their ranks a few weeks ago. Then she’d stumbled upon a Black Gate, opened it, and unleashed a very angry goddess. The divine feminine had been ignored for centuries, starved and betrayed by the Itaran Queen. And she was determined to set things right…even if it meant a few million humans or Triscani had to be “reclaimed”, as she referred to it.

Bran and Teagh had explained the truth. Reclaimed meant dead. Energy recycled by the goddess herself. It was the reason the sons of the Queen’s line had been cursed with their dark power. When the Queen of Itara didn’t keep her bargain with the goddess, didn’t take her son to the Gate to receive a soul stone and the goddess’s blessing, the Triscani had been born. The forbidden sons, cursed with an attraction to and ability to absorb evil, absorb another living being’s soul and leave behind nothing but ash, went insane. Their gift was meant to feed power to the Gates, to keep the world safe, and to recycle evil. But with no soul stones, the malevolence the forbidden sons absorbed from others had nowhere to go. It soaked into their own souls, driving them mad, making them thirst for more and more.

Now thousands of soul-stealing Triscani were set to arrive on Earth, in the middle of nowhere Nebraska, surround by corn fields and dirt. Alliance, Nebraska, the small town that was host to Carhenge, was more than two hundred miles from the nearest city of any size. Denver, Colorado, a city with a metropolitan population of around two million, would be the most likely magnet for any Triscani that might escape. They’d be drawn to the energy and life pulsing through a city of that size. They’d be drawn to the dirty bowels of the city, to the slums and the places where evil hid from view. The scent of it would tease them as effectively as holding fresh meat in front of a hungry lion.

If the Triscani escaped the wretchedly small group of individuals in this room, they’d head for people, for a source of energy to feed their relentless hunger. Once they reached Denver, they’d begin to scatter and spread over the entire Earth. Tracking them down would be tough work for the few warriors standing before him. Finding all of the escaped monsters might take centuries. And they
would
have to find them all, they couldn’t leave the human population unprotected.

Hopefully, the Earthbound Itaran Triads wouldn’t be happy about Triscani roaming freely either. Those bastards were evil, but they weren’t crazy. The Triscani would be a threat to everyone on Earth, including the criminals that the Itarans exiled here.

“So where is he?” Teagh stood next to Katherine, the proprietary grip of his hand around her waist natural. She accepted her Mate’s touch without thought or debate. In fact, the tall female leaned into Teagh’s body and pressed herself to his side. Claimed him in front of everyone, while Emma stood across the table from Ajax, sandwiched between Nicodemus and another Darkwalker male, and acted like he hadn’t just had his cock in her body and his tongue in her mouth. Acted like Nicodemus was her friend and Ajax a stranger.

It was driving him fucking insane. And he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He’d made his decision. He was a future King of Itara. A male whose birth had been prophesized and predestined. An Immortal. She was human. The Itarans would never accept a human from Earth as their Queen. Never. The whole idea of accepting her Mark was ludicrous. It went against everything he’d ever believed about his birthright and his destiny.

And it left a huge gaping hole in his chest that ached for her. For her sweet sighs and her soft body, for the gasping cries she made when he took her, and the way her small hands had run over his body after. By the gods, he’d never felt so content. So…tamed. If she’d asked him to go kill a bear with a pocket knife, he would have done it for her. He would have done anything. And if she’d given him her Mark again? He might have taken it and damn the consequences.

But she hadn’t. The arousing heat of her Mark had not rolled through him again. Even without it, he’d have killed for her. Brought her the bear’s carcass and taken her body again in reward. His cock grew hard at the thought.

What would it be like to take her heat and fire as a Marked Mate? He had to shut down the thought before it took root.

The damn female was dangerous.

And Bran, that arrogant ass, leaned back in one of the many folding chairs they’d brought in and raised an eyebrow at Ajax, his words echoing clearly through Ajax’s head as Nicodemus stepped minutely closer to Emma, his predator’s gaze alert and protective.

He wanted to strangle the male, but he had no right. He had no fucking right to care at all. “
Snooze you lose
.”

Fuck you, Bran.

Now the males gathered, ten strong, and tried to figure out how they were going to defeat thousands of Triscani, protect the Timewalkers, and maintain their sanity. Aron, his twin brother. Bran, the Archiver. Teagh, Guardian of the Gate. Raiden, a half-blood forbidden son from one hundred and fifty years in the future. Ajax himself, the Lost King and forbidden son, destined King of Itara. And Nicodemus and his four Darkwalker brothers. Ten.

And a handful of extremely powerful and stubborn females. Human females. One of which he couldn’t take his eyes off of for more than a count of twenty, even when he tried. Visions of Nicodemus touching her drove him to distraction. Eventually, he stopped trying to pretend disinterest and watched every single move the Darkwalker male made.

Emma crossed her arms, her face an unreadable mask, but fact, not fear in her tone. “I can’t ash them all. According to Nicodemus and Raiden, you guys can only take on one, maybe two at a time without getting ashed yourselves. Without Robbie, even being there is suicidal.”

“He’ll be there.” Celestina walked into the room and Bran’s self-satisfied grin fell from his face to make way for one of great irritation. Ajax smiled. He couldn’t hold back the rush of satisfaction seeing Bran’s frustration gave him.

“How did you get here?” Oh, yes, his dear friend was going to have that female eating out of the palm of his hand in no time speaking to her like that.

“It’s of no consequence.” Celestina and Emma shared a look, and Ajax wondered what else had transpired between the two females this morning, and if it had anything to do with the soul stone Emma now wore anchored in a piece of jewelry around her neck. “Robert will be present for the real battle.”

Celestina walked to Nicodemus and held out her small hand. She looked childlike next to the Darkwalker. “I’m Celestina. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Nicodemus. I trust Elijah is doing well?”

Nicodemus took a knee in front of the Seer. All of the Darkwalkers did, dropped like stones. “My lady.”

That was new. His gaze darted to Bran, who looked equally confused. Even Aron, his brother, a prince of Itara, was on his knee. As was Raiden, who rubbed at his chest and looked shocked.

Celestina blushed. “Please don’t.”

Nicodemus remained on his knee before her. “Is it not the custom to greet an Angelus Mortis with deference and respect? Were we gone in the forbidden kingdom for so long that your gift is no longer sacred among our people?”

Bran leapt to his feet as soon as the words Angelus Mortis left Nicodemus’s mouth.

Celestina ignored him as Raiden spoke to the Seer. “Why didn’t I feel this before?”

“Feel what?” Bran took a couple steps to his right so he could see Celestina’s face instead of the back of her head. It wasn’t Celestina, but Raiden who answered his question.

“She burns, Bran. With Angel’s Fire.” Raiden rose slowly, his gaze locked on Celestina. “Why didn’t I feel it before?”

The Seer sighed, and the sound was resigned, not happy. “The goddess calls us all to this fight, Raiden. I am not the only one you are sensing in this room.”

The males on their knees all froze, searching inward to confirm Celestina’s claims. When Nicodemus opened his eyes, he twisted his body to kneel at Emma’s feet, and bowed his head respectfully to Mari as well.

Ajax felt nothing, and it made him angry. “Why don’t I feel anything?”

She looked first at Bran, then Ajax. “Because you are not forbidden sons.”

A knot of apprehension twisted in Ajax’s chest. “I am, and feel nothing unusual.”

Celestina’s sad eyes looked at him with something close to pity. “That is because you reject the gifts the goddess has given you. You remain a prisoner of the dark.”

“I asked for a soul stone. I knelt at the feet of the goddess and begged.”

The Seer’s glacier blue eyes pierced his soul. “You knelt at the wrong pair of feet.”

Ajax looked to Bran for an explanation, for help translating Celestina’s words, but as he looked around he realized they were the only two males in the room still standing. Even Teagh knelt, but Ajax assumed he’d known because he was connected to the goddess herself through his link to the Gate.

And Emma? Emma was surrounded, five Darkwalkers paying homage, their position and deference a vow to protect and serve unto death the very female whose Mark he’d refused.

“Well, isn’t this cozy.” Ajax tore his gaze from Emma to see another Immortal female walk forward from the dark hallway.

“Helene.” Celestina walked to her, and the two Seers leaned close, nearly cheek to cheek, but both females were careful not to touch. They were also as different as night and day. Celestina was petite and fair, with the palest gold hair and blue eyes. Helene towered over her, her height more in line with Immortal females he’d known on Itara, and her hair was black as midnight, her eyes a soft dark brown, her skin the color of melted caramels.

“Always.” Helene looked around the gathering with obvious curiosity, her gaze lingering on each of the Darkwalker males as she recited their names. It was the first time he’d heard them. The newly reclaimed Darkwalkers spoke through their leader, who she addressed last. “Nicodemus.”

He rose from his place near Emma and bowed to the Seer “Helene.”

Celestina looked at Helene, who nodded, before walking to Emma. Helene followed.

“Emma, I’d like you to meet Helene. She is a Seer on our ship, the one responsible for selecting all of the Timewalkers for their missions, and for monitoring any changes to the past. She protects the sacred present.”

Ajax watched Emma squirm for a second, unsure what to do. But then, in true Emma style, she surprised the hell out of everyone and pulled the Seer into a quick hug. Even more surprising, the Seer hugged her back.

Emma babbled. “Oh my, God. I thought I’d never see you again.”

Helene smiled like a schoolgirl. “I promised you that you would.”

“I know, smart ass, but you see the past, not the future.” Emma squeezed her friend again then let go and stepped back. She looked ridiculously happy.