Tempests fury, p.9
Tempest's Fury, page 9
“I tried. I called the cops—”
“Who did nothing. Look, you meant well, I know, but something else was going on there. I can’t explain it, but I think this guy can. Will you come out there with me and listen to what he has to say?”
He stood, putting an arm around her and letting her lean on him.
“Yes, but only because you asked. And,” he added, “because he seems … different, like you. I think he can explain why you can do the things you can do.”
“The freak club is now a duo,” she joked.
Hayden didn’t respond. They had entered the living room. Rothatin, who’d been seated on the sofa, stood when they came in, hands folded behind his back. His movements were rigid and crisp, with an almost military-like precision.
“You are well,” he observed. His stare remained as cool and piercing as it had been before. It freaked her out. “I am glad. We have much to discuss, and not a lot of time.”
Gretchen took her time lowering herself into a chair across from him. Hayden perched on the arm, one hand resting on her shoulder in support.
“Listen,” he began, “we’ll hear whatever you have to say, but I want to make something clear. This thing that happened tonight, you showing up with my sister passed out in your arms … it doesn’t happen again. Are we clear? Whatever is going on, I don’t want her hurt. Our parents were killed a little over a year ago, and I’ve been raising her ever since. I’ve worked my ass off to keep her safe and provide for her, and I don’t intend to stop now.”
Rothatin sat again, folding his hands neatly in front of him.
“No one is disputing the role you have taken in raising her. But, with all due respect, there is nothing you can do to protect her from what’s coming. This has nothing to do with you.”
She felt her brother tense at her side, but he said nothing. She folded her arms across her chest.
“So, what’s the deal? I take it you’re a freak like me.”
He squared his shoulders and raised his chin as if offended.
“Young lady, I am a Longspear, of the royal line of the Faeries of Goldun in Fallada. My power is great.”
She couldn’t fight the smile spreading across her face, or the giggle that escaped.
“Dude, seriously? A Faerie? Where’s Tinkerbell?”
His expression darkened and murderous glare narrowed his leafy green eyes. Reaching up, he pulled his hair back, holding it in a ponytail with his fist. A pair of pointed, curved ears appeared.
Gretchen shrugged. “They sell prosthetic ears online for all those Lord of the Rings geeks.”
He growled with annoyance as he stood. For a moment, she thought she’d gone too far. His hands had balled into fists. Then, the air around him seemed to shimmer, wavering before he began to vanish. He literally faded like a hologram, before disappearing completely.
Hayden shot to his feet, turning in circles and trying to find Rothatin in the room. Gretchen’s hands began to shake, and she stilled them by clenching them together in her lap.
He appeared again at her side, staring down at her with his jaw clenched.
“I’ve no time for games, Princess. There are many other ways I can prove that I am what I say, but I will not waste another moment catering to your whims. You will hear the truth now, without interrupting.”
She nodded. “Fine, I’m listening. By the way, so not impressed. You’ve seen what I can do.”
“That is because we are from the same world,” he said, finding his seat on the sofa again. “Fallada.”
“Is Gretchen a Faerie, like you?” Hayden asked. He seemed genuinely interested, albeit confused. “Is that why she can do such amazing things?”
“Gretchen’s name is actually Brione … Princess Brione. She is a royal of the realm of Damu, the desert region of Fallada.”
“This place you call Fallada,” Gretchen said, “where is it? What is it? If I’m from there, does that mean I’m not human?”
“Since you’re ready to listen, I had best start at the beginning,” he replied.
And he did. Gretchen sat in silence while he told her everything. When he had finished, a long beat of silence passed in which she digested the information.
“Let me get this straight,” she said, once she’d had a moment to soak it in. “Fallada is a parallel world where all kinds of mythical—or not so mythical—creatures live. Four realms within this kingdom are ruled by four royal families, and I am part of one of them. That makes me a princess. One of the queens decided she wasn’t happy with her one part of the world, and wants to be the top dog. But this prophecy you mentioned says the seven daughters of Fallada will rise up against her and bring peace to the kingdom. She can’t have that, so she banishes us to Earth and scatters us around so we would be impossible to find. So, your queen—the Queen of the Faeries—sent you on a quest to bring us all together to overthrow the evil bitch. Is that about right?”
Rothatin nodded, running his hand through his long hair. He looked as if telling the story had worn him out. If this proved true, he’d already found four of the lost princesses, so it seemed safe to assume he’d told this story over and over again, and was sick of it himself.
“That’s the gist of it,” he replied. “It’s why those Witches were camped out at the bakery. They knew you and your brother frequented the establishment regularly. They planned to set a trap for you.”
Hayden’s hold on her shoulder became manacle tight. It hurt, but the things this guy—er, Faerie—said frightened her. The tight hold felt comforting.
“A trap? For what? Gretchen has never done anything to anyone.”
“That doesn’t matter to Eranna,” he replied. “As long as you are alive, you’re a threat to her. She’s expanding her empire and plans to extend her reach to the human world—this world. She knows we plan to add you to our ranks, and will stop at nothing to ensure it doesn’t happen.”
“This is unbelievable,” Hayden muttered. “I’ve always believed in extraordinary humans that can do incredible things, but Faeries? Witches and queens with magic powers? I don’t know if my mind can stretch to accommodate that.”
But Gretchen had seen the truth for herself. Those creatures she’d encountered in the bakery hadn’t been human. They hadn’t even been animals. It stood to reason that Rothatin was telling the truth, and those Witches were from this land called Fallada. So was she.
“Think about it, Hayden,” she said, turning to face him. “I’m so different from you. You’re a tall, buff, gorgeous god. And I’m …”
“Beautiful. Perfect. My sister.”
She shook her head. “Not if what he’s saying is true. Do you remember me as a baby? Do you even recall Mom being pregnant with me? Think really hard, Hayden. I know you had to be young, just three or four, right?”
Hayden frowned, and his eyes darted as he seemed to think it over. “There was a lot of excitement. Mom said we were getting a new little sister for me. I can’t remember much else, honestly. I just remember you being there, and it made them so happy. I think something happened when I was born that made it to where Mom couldn’t have more kids. She was happy to have a little girl to love.”
“You were found and adopted into this family,” Rothatin said. “That is the only explanation. I am venturing to guess that beneath the concoction you use to color your hair, it is actually red?”
Gretchen’s eyebrows shot up. “How did you know?”
“I know your father. His hair is red.” He paused, clearing his throat and cutting his gaze toward Hayden. “So is your brother’s … and your sister’s.”
She felt like she would be sick. The room spun and her headache hadn’t gotten any better. This was a lot to take in at once. Then again, she felt relieved to have the truth, to know what exactly set her apart from other people.
There existed a family out there that she belonged to. She had a purpose, a reason for her bizarre abilities. This world she lived in, where she had been ridiculed for her weight and shunned by her peers, wasn’t even the one she’d been born into. She was a freaking princess.
“So, what now?” Hayden asked. “You were looking for Gretchen, and now you’ve found her. What happens next?”
“It is very important that she come with me. Now.”
Hayden stood, his jaw clenching. “Where? Why?”
“Queen Eranna will not stop pursuing your sister just because we fought off her minions,” he replied. “There are plenty more where they came from, and she’ll be sending even more of them now that her first attempt has failed.”
“Let her come,” she replied. “I can defend myself.”
“I know you can,” he countered, “but not alone, and not against a horde of Dark Fae. It’s a lot to explain, but the Dark Fae are just a part of her army. They possess the same power I do, but it has been tainted by black magic. It is a force you cannot withstand alone. If you come with me, I can protect you, along with those who have travelled here with me. We came for two reasons. First, to get to you before Eranna did. Second, to have you join our fight. The prophecy indicates that you will usher in the next phase of this war against her. We need you, Gretchen.”
She stood, her mind turning over her options. When she weighed the decision in her mind, there seemed only one possible solution.
“Yes,” she said before she could change her mind. “I’ll come with you.”
Hayden’s arm shot out in front of her, and he pushed her behind him, stepping forward to put himself between her and Rothatin.
“No,” he growled. “Hell no. You’re not taking my sister anywhere.”
Chapter Eight
Mollac, Fallada
“Are you sure we’re going the right way?”
Eli—crouched low to the snowy ground in his animal form—turned and narrowed his yellow-gold eyes on her. He hissed, baring his teeth. She knew the sound well. The longer they were together, the easier it became to interpret Panther-speak.
“Don’t take that tone with me,” she grumbled, folding her arms across her chest and shivering in the cold.
Several layers of suede and her fur cloak, and she still didn’t feel warm enough. The more power Eranna gained, the colder the wintery region of Mollac seemed to get. Her nose had gone numb and her toes throbbed inside her boots.
They’d been walking for hours, with Eli leading the way. He tracked her sister, Desdemona, who was said to be hiding out in a cabin in Mollac’s woods. After her intervention against Eranna’s hybrids, she’d gone away never to return. Adrah had tasked them with finding her and convincing her to come with them to Goldun. They had no doubt that Eranna had left instructions with her second-in-command, Kalodan, concerning her daughter. Just because she’d gone to the human world didn’t mean the wheels weren’t still in motion here.
Desdemona remained a bit of a wild card. Adrah had warned her that her sister might be volatile and temperamental. This was the nature of the Phoenix. A rare and beautiful creature, the Phoenix was legendary. Willful, spiteful, angry, fierce … and those were only a handful of her traits. Her moods shifted like the wind, and whether or not she could be convinced to return with them to Goldun would depend on what side of the bed she’d woken up on.
Jocylene hoped her sister was in a good mood. She hadn’t trekked miles across a frozen tundra, freezing her ass off, just to be turned away at the door.
“The instincts of the animal Shifter are more trustworthy than any compass,” declared her uncle Wil from behind her.
Beside him, her father tramped along in her wake.
“Don’t pump his ego up more than it already is,” she huffed, her breath turning to steam on the air.
Her mate hissed again, but didn’t spare her a glance. He was busy guiding and tracking.
They hadn’t talked again about their mate’s bond—or lack thereof—again after their argument in Goldun. Her mate had returned from a night of hunting just before sunrise, without telling her where he’d been. He’d also had nothing to say about their argument or the accusations she’d hurled at him. She didn’t bring it up, either.
It was as if they’d silently agreed to let the matter go for now. There was more at stake here than their relationship, still new and developing. They had the rest of their lives to work on communication. There existed a limited timetable on how long they could allow Desdemona to go on without declaring specific loyalty to either side.
“There,” Jake said, pointing to something in the distance. “What’s that?”
“What, that little brown dot?” Jocylene frowned, following his pointing finger with her eyes.
Eli shifted to two feet, his enchanted Fae garments shifting along with him.
“That’s it,” he declared, falling into step next to her without missing a beat. “That’s the cabin. We’ll be there within an hour.”
Another hour shivering in the snow.
Her sister had better have some hot cocoa waiting when they got there.
Inside the small, one-room cabin, Malachi Voran sat beside the crackling fireplace, watching his son play with a set of wooden blocks on the floor. The little boy was the pride of his life, his reason for living. With his mother’s head of reddish-brown hair and Malachi’s large, brown eyes, he was quite a sight.
He smiled when Leven’s gaze rose to meet his. The little boy grinned back, tugging on his heartstrings with relentless insistence. Few things made him smile these days, but Leven was definitely one of them.
His smile faded when he glanced beyond Leven to the young woman moving about his kitchen. Dressed in a nondescript, blue wool gown and apron, she appeared ordinary, even a bit plain. However, he knew better. Beneath the outward façade she’d adopted since the day he’d awakened to find her at his bedside, was a living, breathing flame. Tongues of fire lived in her blood, and dark coals smoldered in her eyes. Just beneath her porcelain skin lived a creature as tempestuous as a hurricane, fickle and ravenous as a roaring fire.
She’d given him a few glimpses of the Phoenix in the past, when she had trusted him to help her unlock the full extent of her power. After being attacked by Eranna’s hybrids and nearly losing his life because of their poison, he’d awakened days later to find her at his side. She’d found a Fae healer to purge him of the poison, then nursed him back to health herself.
His affection for her had only deepened after that. The loss of his mate, Danore, had been a painful blow. The agony had been lessened by her steady presence. She took the place of mother to his son, caring for him as tenderly as Danore would have. She cared for them both with a selflessness he knew he did not deserve.
He’d betrayed her, turning her over to her mother in exchange for his kidnapped family. Even after he’d done what she asked, Eranna had deceived him in turn, returning the empty shell of his wife with her spirit sucked from within. The woman he’d known was gone, and only a mindless minion remained. Having to take her life in defense of their son had been the single hardest thing he’d ever had to do.
After, he’d pursued Eranna, and taken Desdemona back. Perhaps she thought she owed him for it. It had to be the reason she stayed. What she didn’t know, or perhaps did not want to acknowledge, was that his reasons were selfish. He’d gone after her for himself—because he could not stand to face the world alone, and when she was near, he felt more at peace than when she was gone.
Something had happened, however, and Malachi was too much of a coward to ask. Her demeanor toward him had changed, becoming more reserved. She’d shut him out, and he didn’t know why.
“You should let me help you,” he said, shattering the strained silence.
When she’d first come to him, helpless and without her memory, he’d been the one to take care of her. He’d hunted and prepared meals for her, cleaned the small cabin, ensured she was comfortable and clothed. Now, she had taken on the role of caretaker. It felt strange.
Her dark eyes met his and she shrugged.
“I’m almost finished,” she said, indicating the bubbling kettle over the fire—their dinner. “I suppose if you want to help, you can set the table.”
Malachi rose from his place before the fire, stretching his long limbs. “Sure.”
He couldn’t help watching her while he tended to the task. What had changed? There had been a time when he’d felt certain Desdemona had fallen in love with him—a girlish infatuation that had caused her to stare at him for far longer than was polite, smile at him too widely and too often, awakening an answering attraction in him that had made him feel guilt. He’d been mated to someone else, after all. But, after he’d awakened from his illness, she’d been different.
She wasn’t rude. Quite the opposite, actually. She had become quiet, demure, civil … too civil. He could not complain, but for the fact that he missed her tempestuous moods, her sudden changes from sweet, innocent girl, to fiery, dangerous vixen. It would have been better if she’d screamed and hit him if he’d made her angry, than treat him to this brand of iciness.
He’d just finished setting the table for three when he decided to broach the subject with her. If she was angry with him for some reason, he’d rather have it out than remain locked in this purgatory of strained conversation and avoidance. Especially considering the tumultuous and confusing feelings he had for her.
“Desdemona.”
She paused in ladling a thick rabbit stew into a bowl and glanced up at him.
“Yes?” Her voice sounded breathless, and her eyes grew wide. She sensed the grave tone of his voice. Her instincts told her what was coming.
He took a step toward her, clearing his throat. “We should talk.”
She straightened, the steaming bowl clasped between her small hands. “About?”
“I think you know,” he countered, taking another step in her direction. “We’ve danced around the issue long enough, I think. It’s been weeks since … well, everything happened.”
“Malachi …” Her gaze dropped and she bit her lower lip, causing it to redden. “Don’t.”
“Why not?” he whispered.
