Some twisted side of her almost wanted him to. She had awoken with a hunger that was rich with a want she couldn’t ever recall feeling as deeply.
It was her cold sanity, what was left of it, that offered only a glare in his direction.
He turned from her gaze. The door slammed shut in that moment as if a force that dared to be reckoned with commanded it to do so.
She watched the shadow under the door. Her fist clenched the damp slick sheets she was on. Commanding her body to stay put—to not move to open the door and pull him back in.
Waking up next to him was…familiar. Yet still distant in some way.
He didn’t move for the longest time, and when he did it was only to pace back and forth.
Growing comfortable with the standoff, Adair started to digest what had happened. She remembered shooting Scorpio, what little he had told her, Jade appearing. The rest…it was like remembering the night before with a heavy hangover.
Knowledge was there, more emotion than anything. It was like a briefing of some sort. She saw the Sons, more than the Sons—she saw countless immortals. She understood what elements went into their soul. How it was so complicated that simple words could never dare to explain such things.
Almost everything Scorpio had said was fortified. She knew Talley and Rush carried the spirit of a wolf within, she understood the Devours—the vamps, the energy they consumed and what it did to them. The shifters, she knew that even though they believe they shifted, those who were with them did—in all truth they were skilled illusionist. Able to make any soul believe the image they chose to display—they had insane mind power.
The seers, she understood, like the others. There were many sorts of seers. Those who saw the past, others the future, some both. Some could invade the mind and toy with what was in place. Some saw so deep they were near mad, and others found balance.
Balance Judge was renowned for…
The Phoenixes were fire, purity, and death. This seemed simplistic at first glance, but it was more. They had the power to recreate. They had the power to burn to ash and be reborn anew. The endurance of their souls was unprecedented. In some way, because they could create, they were seen as Gods among the lore.
Knowing this, feeling it now, Adair was terrified. She knew someone, somewhere wanted her to save a Phoenix, and now she knew the only thing that could destroy such a being was death—and even that didn’t make sense because they could rise from such things.
Imprisonment. The thought passed her mind as she remembered the chains in her dream. In death…
Death was an enemy no one could escape—not forever.
The why was twisting her mind but somehow she linked this new rush of desire to crack the mystery with Talley. Somehow she thought one resolution would lead to another.
Long ago, as she’d watched Judge’s shadow pace and her thoughts ticked onward, she’d heard what sounded like thunder, but was surely a multitude of bikes arriving.
She heard music amplified and laughter outside in the distance. Still Judge stayed, so she stayed.
Breath by breath she fought to understand why her body was drenched with desire. Even if he had touched her, if he had reached the point of causing her pain, she should be well over it by now. The pain she was accustomed to, had a knack for making Adair feel or think of nothing but its presence—for hours after the touch left.
Still, when she moved her legs together she was well aware her body was not feeling any pain.
She heard footsteps in the hall. Judge halted his pace. Slow, short whispers passed between him and someone else.
Sure the door was going to be flung open and not sure of who was going to be behind it, Adair flew from the bed toward to bathroom.
There she discovered what was left of her ripped panties along with the mark on her neck from a deep passionate kiss, and felt how swollen and heavy her nipples were. Her lips were all but bruised.
“What did that bastard do to me?”
Her body almost rocked forward as a wave of desire moved through her again.
I’m drugged. That has to be it, she thought as she turned the shower to cold and dove under the water, wanting a reprieve.
The cold water did the trick. At least it cleared her head as she stood beneath it and shivered violently, so much so that for long moments she could only think of the misery of the cold. Then her mind shifted back to what she knew now.
The flaming bird was haunting the hell out of her. She kept seeing it in chains and hearing those words.
In whatever slumber she had just risen from she had dreamed deeply. Inviting her visions to be more real and lacing them with other dreams, ones Adair had brushed against in the past five years but always forgot just as the haze of sleep left her.
She saw Finley telling her to run. In her dream she did, she ran right to Finley, but not for some embrace, a welcome home I’ve missed you hug, but because Adair sensed evil on her heels. She knew in that dream she had led it into the trap that Finely had laid.
Under the mist of the frigid water, the air around Adair turned teeth-shatteringly cold and the voice that haunted this home emerged again. “Save him…Phoenix.”
Adair shook her head. “I shot him, and he healed just fine.”
“Because he’s immortal, and they tend to do things like that.” The voice that spoke was not the haunting whisper but dense with the same commanding tone she always carried.
Adair jerked back as she saw Reveca’s image on the other side of the shower glass.
The knob on the shower, seemly on its own, turned the water to comfortable warmth—well, it was warming Adair at least. The comfort was short lived. Not only was she staring into powerful gray eyes, but also once again Adair’s body started to take on a mind of its own, pulling her focus in every direction but where it needed to be.
Reveca quirked a smile, recognizing the look in Adair’s round jade eyes, though she had never really seen it in a mortal before.
“You’re mortal. From what I recall, cold showers at length will do nothing to aid your health. Finish,” Reveca said as she leaned against the counter as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Knowing her stare was making Adair uncomfortable, she kept it in place.
***
King wasn’t very descriptive with the elements of the spell he countered Jade with, but enough so that Reveca was warned when Adair woke her urges would be as strong, if not stronger, than an immortal risen. He’d said that in order for her to dissolve the information he gave her, he had to open her senses—all of them. Basically, she was intoxicated by life at the moment and downright lustful to test every sensation.
Reveca found it somewhat amusing that Gwinn took it upon herself to spell Judge at the threshold of the doorway as well. The spell would be harmless to most, but when you coupled it with an immortal and a long-standing desire, it was sure to have an impact.
And it had.
When Reveca found Judge outside the door he was fiercely guarding his prey—he didn’t want anyone near Adair, and Reveca could tell it was taking all the strength he had to not go to her. Lustful was an understatement when it came to the hunger she saw in that boy’s eyes.
Reveca pushed past him finally and told him the others were about to brief Talon on the status of Chalice and what he’d been doing.
To her surprise he still stayed at Adair’s door. But just now, she’d heard Talon demanding he come.
All Reveca could hope was this pull that King and Gwinn had set in place would help things along a bit.
Cashton and all his deathly knowledge had opened up a score of new mysteries and legends. Ones Reveca had long forgotten, but now, once again had no choice but to search for the truth within.
Since Adair had surfaced again, Reveca was sure she too was an Escort. But now she assumed Adair was far more than a witch or an Escort. The issue was, Adair didn’t know she was and there wasn’t enough knowledge with Cashton or the remaining originals of the Dominarum coven to explai
n it to her. Adair was going to have to open herself up, and she couldn’t do so until the current dramas were laid to rest—easier said than done.
***
Adair’s shower was hasty, she didn’t care to be watched and she didn’t care for the fact that every inch of her skin felt brand new, overly sensitive. The soap might as well have been silk gliding down her in tender waves, the long locks of her raven hair much the same.
She fiercely bit the inside of her cheek when she turned the water off and reached for the towel. Feeling the cloth run over her, brush against her flesh was downright torture.
Absently, she wondered if Judge was still outside her door, then catching herself she scorned the very thought. Over my dead body.
Adair flung open the door to the shower, glaring at Reveca. “Who do you want me to save? Scorpio—right? How does that have anything to do with Talley? Is this a barter? I save him—you help me?”
Reveca furrowed her brow as she crossed her arms, not sure how to gauge her question or even where it came from.
Reveca never acknowledged the ghost, and right then Adair had to wonder if she hadn’t because it was her, in her witchy ways, whispering that direction over and over to Adair—anything was possible, clearly.
“Listen,” Reveca said. “It’s not my place to tell you who you belong with. But I will tell you it’s not wise to turn men on each other when they are already under duress.” She tilted her head. “Scorpio did an honorable thing, telling you and Judge how it was back then, and it seems he’s doing so again. No doubt that would score him a few points with any woman’s heart. Nonetheless, if you feel drawn there, it’d be best for you to wait until we put a few demons to bed first.”
Rage masked Adair’s expression. “You broke into my shower, watched me bathe, all to tell me not to hook up with Scorpio?” A pissed breath escaped Adair’s lips. “All of you have lost your fucking mind? I asked you if I was suppose to save him because I’m haunted with the very idea that I need to save a fucking flaming bird. He says he’s fine—you’re telling me not to fuck him. Done. Now will someone tell the fucking haunt the same?”
Reveca kept her cool expression but on the inside she felt her heart rushing, dread and worry seizing her. When she thought of a flaming bird, only one man came to mind. And he was, in fact, in peril.
“What do the spirits say to you?”
“Save him. It likes to throw books at me too, ones you take away. Why, for the love of God, it will not throw them at me when I’m alone so I can actually read the damn things I don’t know.”
Adair tightened the towel around her. “What I do know is that you’re a powerful witch who brings back warriors, turning them immortal. I know you’re the Queen of the Edge, a space between life and death. I know that Talley served you, you saved him and gave him a new life—curses and all.” Adair hesitated. “And I know you not only took that life away, but also you didn’t bring Finley back. I want to know why. I’m told I’m not a prisoner, but we both know that’s not true. At the very least I’m a prisoner to your half-truths.”
Though Reveca had ensured distance between her and Adair she’d always respected Adair, even when she was a shy, displaced, abused child. Her respect for her now grew even more. In nothing more than a towel, surely weak from days with little nourishment and a heavy sleep, Adair stood up to an original witch with boldness few warriors had dared to display.
Even the ones that had nothing to lose.
“She outran me,” Reveca finally said, letting her emotion reflect in her voice which trembled every so slightly. “Finley chose death, Adair. I can’t force souls to live. They have to answer me. They have to pull back—fight.”
Emotion was waving over Adair, making her all but tremble. “Maybe it was because you took her reason to live away.”
Reveca shook her head no. “She died hours before Talley, she knew the plan, what to do if death took her—she ran.”
Adair looked away. “She knew something. She must have known what Talley’s fate was.”
Reveca couldn’t say without doubt that Finley didn’t. She surely knew Talley was cursed—but at the same time she couldn’t see why Finley would have all but laid Adair out for him to ravage, or what it would’ve accomplished. It was a mystery that Finley died with.
“I disagreed with his death, Adair. I understood what the others felt though. He would’ve never been the same again. At best he would have seen you well then ended his life on his own.”
Adair bit back every curse she wanted to say. It was useless. No matter what she did she could not go back in time and change the course of this destruction.
“I can’t save him alone, Adair. I can’t track him, trap him, and exorcise this evil without you.”
“Right,” Adair said in the most unbelieving tone she could manage.
“Dead rising, that’s not normal. It’s wrong. Finley knew how to solve this, she told you, and I need you to tell me.”
“Not normal?” Adair repeated. “Are you not dead? Or every-fucking-body else at the Boneyard?”
“No, we’re immortal. We didn’t go into the grave, salted and burned, only to rise years later. That’s not how it works—evil is at play here. You know it is.”
Adair looked down, bit her lip, then spoke. The wealth of knowledge that was embedded in her mind now did nothing to help her recall what was stripped from her, only what was left unspoken to her by both Finley and Talley—by its own merit, another betrayal.
“I don’t remember, and you won’t allow me to.” Adair looked up. “Finley was a teacher who would show, not tell. I seriously doubt she spoke her plan to me; more than likely she expected me to recognize it as it played out.”
“I know you have memories. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Not all of them,” Adair swore, looking at her. “But…I’m pretty sure that Finley planned on dying, if that helps. What you told me about her running from you—that fits.”
“What do you mean?”
Adair shrugged. “My gut tells me that. I don’t remember the last day with her any differently than I have for the past five years. Any answers you think I have, had to have happened then. At a point in time that you all think I am too weak to remember.”
Reveca locked her stare on her. “The last thing I think you are is weak.”
Silence reigned for a long moment. “What now?” Adair asked.
“We have a new prisoner. We plan to trade him for a man that supposedly raised Talley from the dead.”
“Then why are you pushing me to help?”
A smile vaguely twitched on Reveca’s lips. “Because, like you, I trust few. Especially some crooked Rouge wanting to save his own ass.”
“Rouges, the bad little immortals, right?”
“Right.”
Adair shook her head in dismay.
“The prisoner is not the only new guest the Boneyard is hosting,” Reveca said coolly. “Your friend Miriam is here, well, rather, she was imprisoned here by Jade.”
Adair flushed with anger. “Jade gave me this knowledge I have—you know that right? She knocked me out.”
“No. King did.” Answering her shocked gaze she went on. “Jade intended to set it to where you could never conceive myths as truth.”
“Sounds ‘bout right.”
“You’re aware Miriam has been at this Boneyard before?”
A flush of jealous anger surfaced once more. “I’m aware.”
“So you know she masked herself with an illusion spell, a different one each time, and targeted only one Son here.”
“Each time,” Adair bit out. It was hard to swallow the idea of her friend and Judge having a one-night stand—more than one. It was all she could do not to vomit.
Reveca’s grin seemed cold on the outside but it wasn’t, not really. She knew jealousy was a good sign. It meant the loyalty with Miriam was breakable, and the bond with Judge was holding strong.
“Well, from what I understand she arrive
d when I was not present, and tempted. Thames can’t even remember how many times he stopped Judge from killing her, but nevertheless—”
“Stop,” Adair snapped.
Reveca’s smirk grew even more. “Why did she target my Boneyard? Surely you know I cannot overlook this infraction. I will retaliate.”
You and me both, Adair thought venomously. “Judge likes to prowl the street by the Cauldron. He turned a few heads. I’m sure she thought she had a shot, and clearly she did.”
Reveca looked her over. “Jade was the one who exposed Miriam’s ploys, she was aware of them.”
Adair gave no response; it was pointless to do so.
“Do you trust them more than Gwinn?”
Adair drew her head back as if she’d been punched, then recovered. “The Gwinn I knew, no.”
“I doubt she has changed much. Her soul is pure, even after everything she’s endured.”
“You know what I mean. Gwinn vanished from sight. Was assaulted. Presumably, you saved her. She had no memory—oddly just like me. Tell me, if you were me would you have your guard up? Wonder why she seems to think King and Dagen are rock stars—that you are.”
“They kinda are,” Adair heard from the doorway.
There Gwinn stood.
“Look, Gwinn…I didn’t mean. I mean—”
“I get it,” Gwinn said. She shrugged. “I would’ve gotten the grimoire though. But whatevs. BFF war comin’ right up.”
Adair busted out into a laugh and shook her head. “She did try and help me find you,” Adair weakly defended. In truth Miriam seemed to be the only one who cared beyond Adair that Gwinn had vanished.
Gwinn glanced at Reveca. “Thames called, said you were not answering and they were getting ready to vote.”
“About me?” Adair asked.
Reveca didn’t answer. Instead, in a breath she was gone.
“Well, I guess that was a yes.”
The silence between Adair and Gwinn was awkward, distant. Then all at once knowledge started to bubble up from Adair’s thoughts, like a dream being recalled. She’d seen all the immortals slide by her in her deep sleep. She’d seen Gwinn do so.