What was I suppose to do again? Yeah, that’s right, climb the stairs to the third level.
Right as River went to climb the stairs that were not so magic, she felt the stares of others on her and turned to see a couple walking in the oval room.
Royalty, that was the first word that popped into her head.
The dude was as tall as Dagen, lean built, dark auburn hair, sharp features, or maybe that was the flame in his gray eyes.
The girl. A knockout. River was feeling like a homeless chick standing next to her in her little cotton black dress and combat boots.
This must be my heiress. When they said young, River didn’t think they meant this young. She had to be close to her age. The jury was still out on whether she was a stuffed shirt like her brother or not. River couldn’t clearly read her expression.
She backed down a step or two.
The dude had a look of resounding shock on his face, like she had triggered an avalanche of memories. The girl pretty much had the same look.
At second glance, River had to wonder if the reason everyone here, including Mrs. Falcon—who had recruited her—looked at her the way they did, was because of this chick. If River were shined up a bit, she could see Genevieve and herself resembling each other in some distant way, same build, blond hair and such. Not the same face, not even close.
Time to put my manners to good use, maybe a little Southern charm as well. Who am I kidding? The wit is so going to show it’s ugly head, take it or leave it, folks.
“Let me assure you, I’m not a vagrant wandering through your home,” River said as she made her way to them. She bowed slightly, “I’m the text girl. I was just searching for my room.”
“Seneca?” the man said.
“Excuse me?”
Apparently his date, slash heiress was a little shocked by his assumption as well.
“River Sabien. Mrs. Falcon is an acquaintance of my aunt, Saige BellaRose.”
~
Phoenix looked like someone had punched him in the gut, his powerful hand reached for his jaw and slowly slid down. He needed to calm himself down, and he needed to get his head together. The sight of this girl had ripped open a massive amount of dormant memories. Phoenix wasn’t so sure he was liking how the past was meeting the present, or if he knew what that would mean down the road.
“I’m assuming you’re Miss Falcon, or shall I call you Genevieve,” River said to Indie.
Indie extended her hand to shake River’s; she was blown away with how beautiful this girl was, how powerful her energy was, and the tense emotion she felt coming from Phoenix all at once. “Please call me Indie.”
River’s smile froze. She didn’t say anything for a hot second. Too many things were clicking in her mind. “Would that happen to be short of Indiana?” There was a quake in her tone, one that was way too obvious.
The possibility of facing Mason was cruel enough, knowing she was possibly under the roof of the girl he left her for was torture. What the hell did I do to deserve this karma? Her heart was beating in a slow, hollow kind of way, her ears were ringing, and she felt her cheeks heat. Her heart was breaking all over again. Could there really be any pieces of it left?
Now both Indie and River looked like they were going to puke.
This was her. This was the girl that ripped Mason from my life. No wonder,” River thought. She’s breathtaking. Sophisticated, and apparently filthy rich. Oh wait, she very well might be the Queen of the Veil as well. I guess a lowly guardian was not Mason’s cup of tea.
Indie didn’t answer, Phoenix spoke up, “Were you alone down there?”
River wished she was alone right now, that was for sure.
She didn’t know how to explain that her hook up slash best friend was an Escort and popped in to see how she was while she was studying the texts.
“I am now.”
“Were you threatened?”
“What’s going on, Phoenix?” Indie asked him.
“Not at all,” River answered ignoring Indie. “A friend of mine sensed me here and stopped by. I apologize if that was rude of me.” Of course that was not as rude as your date here ripping my first and only love out of my clutches, but you know, it is what it is.
“He sensed you?” Phoenix said as his gaze moved all around her.
Dagen said River was surrounded by Phoenixes, then River meets a guy named Phoenix that has flames deep in his eyes. Oh yeah, and he’s lurking around the same house Mason is, which could only mean he was a Phoenix and had a nose on him—River knew that Phoenixes could sense things on the same level as Escorts.
“Yes.”
“Did he sense anything else that would bother him?” Phoenix asked cautiously.
River couldn’t help it—a smirk emerged. Seriously? Are we going to keep having this awkwardly coded conversation? We’re all adults here are we not?
“Excuse my bluntness,” River said in a salty tone. “But my friend is a mature male, he does not run from hard circumstances, avoiding is not his game, and he knows how to use a phone.” She lifted her chin. “Furthermore, he’s been in my life for quite some time now. I’m here to read text for you, not explain my past or present circumstances with any member of the male population.” River shifted her eyes between them. “We were discussing my safety, of course.”
“Phoenix I need a moment,” Indie said.
“No, you don’t.”
“Phoenix.”
“Love, look a little closer, breath in.”
“Yeah take a big whiff,” River said in an exhausted tone. “Let’s just call a spade a spade. You’re her. And for some janked up reason I’m here to help you. I was raised to turn the other cheek, so that’s what’s happening.”
“Have you talked to Mason?” Indie asked her.
“Mason did more than talk,” Phoenix said under his breath.
“Wasn’t conscious for that, so it doesn’t count,” River said quickly. She raised her hand to stop Indie’s words. “Look, this is business. One or all of you moved this house here from somewhere and packed your basement with stuff you thought would help you out. Someone hitched a ride with you in one of your precious clocks. Then an awesome buddy of yours walked out of this manor with a key to that box, when that artifact left his cage was sprung.” Yeah, she had their attention. And she wasn’t even done yet.
“So, Phoenix, I’m sure you’re having a ball picking up on the fact that my friend was here, or that Mason is twisted, but you should have caught the scent of rain. You should have figured out that scent belongs to a Lord of Death, that the second he broke out of his cage the manor expelled him, and he’s lurking at your front gate. That his presence is attracting the attention of some very honest Escorts.”
With that statement both their brows popped up. Which meant more than likely they knew what Escorts were in the supernatural world. Bet they’d love to know that heritage was running through my veins and they all but forced me to come into their home!
She nodded at their expression. “That is not an oxymoron. It’s rude to label an entire race of souls in one light or another. The Lord’s name is Camlin, and he was mentioned in what I have uncovered so far. And by the way, he controls shadowed souls, which is what Skylynn is if she has not informed you on that matter. Killing him cuts her loose. Now, if you will excuse me I need to digest what I’ve read, read some more, and then get the hell out of here, because quite frankly, this is the last place on the planet that I want to be.”
River went to move up the stairs, and she would be damned if that chick did not manifest right in front of her.
“He’s my guardian. He was led to me,” she said as her eyes watered up. “I love him, but not the way you think. He was destroyed, and went down a dark road. He’s been leveling out for a while, and now this.”
“Don’t. Don’t make excuses for him.”
Phoenix manifested to River’s right, effectively boxing her in. “He just transitioned, meaning his emotions are being pulled
up from the pit of his soul. Which means they’re real. I’m lost on how his energy got inside of you, but that mark is loud and clear. A conversation is not too much to ask.”
“Haha, you’d think, wouldn’t you. I tell you like I told my friend I’m not a fire hydrant, some object to be marked,” she glanced up at Indie. “Him being your guardian does not make this sunshine and butterflies. I’m very clear on the job description. Phones are allowed. Flights are allowed, obviously, I’m here aren’t I. This isn’t about him or me. This is about text that has to be understood. As odd as it sounds it was written in some kind of future. This is the past.”
“They were written by an Allurest named Seneca,” Phoenix said to her, which earned a shocked expression from Indie as well.
“Why did you call me Seneca, then?”
Phoenix reached for Indie’s hand to guide her past River. “When you read your text, I’m sure that will be crystal clear.”
They vanished then.
Angry tears welled in River’s eyes.
Mason left me for her! He left me for a girl that more than likely, years ago looked a lot like me. He shelved the southern girl and found a blond his mother would approve of. Great. Just freaking great!
She couldn’t breath. She wanted to go home. She was calling her dad. She wanted out of there now. At the very least she wanted backup.
River had no idea how she figured it out, but after at least two wrong turns and some backtracking she found her way to where she thought her room was.
She was shaking. Tears that she held at bay were threatening to flood her eyes. Memories, so many memories were engulfing her mind.
She took off in a sprint and turned down her hall. Right as she did she stopped short. Gavin was standing there, and so was Mason. Gavin vanished, and now River was alone with Mason.
He was a good twenty feet away, but River could feel him. God, she could feel him.
Time had been kind to him. He’d always been mouthwatering. The kind of boy that would make you forget how to speak from time to time, the kind that would make your heart seize and send an electric wave through you at just the sight of him. It was worse now. He’d grown into a man. His hair was still dark, and he still kept it a little long, long enough to reach his eyes. Those sinful eyes that were dark like chocolate, creamy chocolate, but they had a lightness that shone through them. He’d lost his lean build, or at least added to it because now he was built like a fighter.
There was fire in his eyes exposing heat River could feel from where she stood. He’d caused her to freeze in place.
Instead of remembering all of their innocence and the paths they took to shed that innocence and how he’d stolen her heart, she remembered the end. The boy she loved morphing into some dark being that didn’t give a damn about anyone or anything. She remembered him acting as if the rest of them had not lost Braxton, as if the rest of them didn’t give a damn about him. Or worse, how in some distant way Mason acted like it was their fault, rather River’s.
She charged forward and slammed her hands into his chest, but he didn’t even budge. He was like a stone wall of solid muscle. “I lost him too, you bastard!” She raged. “He was my friend, he was Soren’s family! I watched your grandmother fall apart! She fell apart because just like me she didn’t lose one Wade boy, she lost both! And what did you do? You let your Mom put you in some monkey suit and stick you in this place! Did you have fun partying? Did you have fun killing my Mason?” River bellowed. “What did Indie do? Drop you and pick up the next broken boy she found? You left me for her! Another blond? What am I just a type to you? Too southern? From the wrong neighborhood? You son of a bitch, don’t you dare look at me like that!”
~
River was not just stunning to Mason, she was the definition of the word. A body that would make you question if she were a fallen angel, a soul would tell you she must be. Captivating eyes that would pull you forward, demand that you step up and be the man you were made to be.
She’d turned into a woman. What innocence that was within her had vanished. She was a woman that knew what she wanted and what she didn’t. A woman that was too stubborn to ever look weak, yet the sight of him had made tears well in her eyes that were swarming with a mix of blue and lavender. A woman that knew exactly how to put Mason in his place.
You’d have thought this conversation was happening five years ago, that she’d found a way to fly up here and jerk his chain, stop him from going down a cranked out path. That she’d flown here looked him in the eyes and gave him a reason to live. A reason to believe that she was his. That she had always been his, that it didn’t matter what brother had laid eyes on her first, that Braxton was still in love with her the moment he died and still blamed Mason for stealing her.
Mason did steal her. And it took him until that moment to realize that he didn’t regret it. He’d paid the price for his sin; his twin was ripped from this world.
They had always been old souls, never afraid to call each other out when they were out of line, never afraid to just call it like it was. They’d fought in the past, always over Mason’s mom or his brother, and there was only one way to end every single one of those fights.
God himself could not hold Mason back from his next move.
He gripped her wrists that had been pounding into his chest after every single statement she made. He held her stare as her breath caught. She knew what he was going to do and hadn’t tried to run yet, but then again for all he knew he was just too strong for her to break away. Mason let her hands go and reached for her face, and pulled her lips to his. At first his lips only brushed across hers, a shuddering breath of heat fell across her skin. He felt the tremor race through her. It was in rhythm with the rush of his heart.
His entire body relaxed the second he felt her flesh fully against his. It felt like he was waking up from a coma. From a nightmare. All the good and bad in his life since the last time he’d kissed her faded from existence as the taste of her tongue against his took him to an unfathomable high. Heated waves of his energy slammed into her, around her, and through her. He was envious of his essence—how close it could get to her, how deep inside it was.
His witchling had bewitched him again. He prayed she’d never stop. Mason pulled her against him; sighing against her mouth when he felt her grip him just as tightly when the want in her kiss grew just as starved. Her soul was pulsing, pulling her closer—twisting with his essence, so near he could feel her heart hammering in her chest.
Mason’s new instincts took over. A beat later he had her against the wall, pressing every curve of her into him. Each kiss they’d ever shared was ravenous like this, but the absence of having her in his life made this one a war of desperation to taste and touch all that was stolen away by time and stubbornness.
His hands fell to her waist then rapidly moved to her thighs, the feel of her bare skin in the palm of his hands drove him wild, his breath hitched as he lifted her legs around him, and his hands slid forward.
The temptation was killing him and no matter how much he told himself to stop and think—to consider this was only ripping a wound that wasn’t ready to be healed—he couldn’t. He wanted all of her, and he wanted her now, he’d be damned the consequences.
When her lips fell to his neck, he hissed a breath then moved them inside her room, only to fall behind the door so he could rock into her. The quietest of moans escaped her lips as she felt his hands rush across her body that was set in a steady rock against him. Her eagerness swayed them back to the wall. He nipped her lip before moving to the desk. He was close, so close to the bed but he couldn’t waste the seconds it would take to walk there. He had to stop, just long enough to devour her, every few feet. Finally he laid her down, taking advantage of the new position by dipping his kiss lower. He skimmed her collarbone with his scorching hot lips that were chasing the sound of her heart, the sound that told him this was real—she was here—not one of the endless dreams he’d have of this moment happening to h
im once more.
His hands slid further under her dress seconds after she pulled his shirt off. The flesh of their bodies shivered on contact—the fire of him, the distance between them, the ache of time, the undying desire, each thought and emotion exploded their senses at once. Making them hyper aware of the other, the insanity of this moment. He’d never felt such a shock of his awareness, not even death and the rise of the Phoenix in him could compare.
Then, without warning, the rich feeling of euphoric contact vanished. She’d drawn into herself.
Cold, it was so cold once she had.
Chapter Eleven
Mason hesitated, his hands pressed into her, his kiss on her neck, remained frozen at the moment. The seconds felt like an eternity to River. Her thoughts were warring with each other—one screaming take it. This feels right. This is how it’s supposed to feel. The other saying not like this—the latter one was the one River heard.
“It’s not going to be that easy, Wade,” she managed to say.
He collapsed next to her. Both their chests heaved, chasing their breath as they stared into the dim room. River’s skin was on fire, the second he moved away she felt the chill of the air slam into her like she’d entered the Arctic.
This boy is killing me. She was furious one second and the next he put her in some type of time warp. Taking her right back to when he was hers. Before there was grief, before the anger, before the hard road of life and fate reared its ugly head.
He’d always been wild. Their first kiss was not some awkward teen moment where they couldn’t figure how to angle their heads or what to do with their tongues. No, that first kiss was one for the books. It was a kiss that would make you think they were old lovers that had found a rhythm once again which made no sense, because even though they thought they knew everything back then, they were just kids. They still were.
The first kiss came on the heels of River calling him out on his BS. He’d been in the neighborhood for a few weeks, she’d shown him around, been to dinner at his house, everything. At first she was just trying to get him to feel comfortable there. For the first five seconds that is, it didn’t take her long to figure out he was nothing like Braxton. They looked the same, but their souls were different. River fell for the soul, not the body.