Elora didn’t know where Tarron was taking her, but she hoped that it was somewhere or to someone that could help her. And if there was no one that could help her then she hoped her suffering ended quickly. She was pretty sure death would be better than what she was feeling in that moment.
Elora gasped as she heard a roar in her mind. She could feel something, or someone calling to her, reaching for her―no, not her, for her soul. She felt her soul’s response as it reached back in a desperation that surprised her. You will not die. The voice was strong, fierce, and gone just as quickly as it had come. Elora felt a level of despair that she’d never known as her soul shrunk back inside of her. It was strange to think of her soul as a separate entity from herself, and though she knew they were one in the same, she felt a distinct split between them. Her soul wanted someone that her mind did not remember, wanted him with such need that being separated from him was slowly destroying her. Elora wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she was sure if she didn’t reunite her soul with the one she needed it would damage her in an irreparable way.
But even as she thought of leaving Tarron to find this other person, her mind shut down, attempting to remove all desire for such things. Elora was sure she’d never again have to wonder what it was like to be schizophrenic because, in that moment, she was split completely in half. She just had to figure out which was stronger―her mind or her soul?
Chapter 9
“Sometimes in life we plan for one thing, but then, just like the wind can change directions in an instant, our plans are blown away and we are suddenly headed in the opposite direction. Then we face a new question. Is this new direction better or worse than our original plan? Regardless, can we even do anything about it?” ~Cush
Cush took the keys for the rental car from the skinny, pimple-faced boy on the other side of the counter. It had been very difficult for the warrior to keep himself from jumping over the counter and just grabbing the first set of keys he came to. The human moved entirely too slow for his liking but he managed to somehow keep his composure.
Oakley was waiting for him on the curb outside by a sign that declared the parking lot beyond as Rental Vehicles. His hands tapped restlessly against his legs to a beat only he could hear. Cush knew that his Chosen’s brother was almost as eager to find her as he was.
“Ready?” Oakley asked as he turned toward the parking lot.
Cush held up the keys and pressed the door unlock button on the key fob. Amidst the rows of black, white, and silver cars and SUVs, the lights on a bright yellow Jeep Wrangler lit up the dim area.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Cush muttered. Now he knew why the pimple faced boy was wearing the sly grin that Cush had thought he’d imagined as he turned to leave.
“What exactly did you tell him we needed?” Oakley asked as he choked back a laugh.
“All I said was that we were touring the swamps.”
“Maybe this is their designated swamp touring vehicle.”
Cush stepped off the curb toward the ridiculous yellow Jeep and motioned the human to follow. “Just shut up and get in.”
Cush set the GPS to the address of the hotel, which he’d received from Trik while they had been waiting to board the plane. With the pain inside of him growing more intense, he shoved the manual transmission into first gear and headed in what he hoped was Elora’s direction.
A little over an hour later, they pulled into the parking lot of the rundown motel. Oakley let out a low whistle as they climbed out of the Jeep. “Wow, they really went all out on this place. Any nicer and I’d think we were at the Ritz.”
“Considering we haven’t seen much of anything but swamp for miles, I don’t think they had to worry too much about their competition,” Cush pointed out.
“So what do we do now?”
Cush folded his arms across his broad chest and leaned his back against the grill of the Jeep. “Now we wait.”
“Waiting sucks,” Oakley grumbled as he mimicked the warrior’s pose.
“It is the same in any century. Waiting never gets easier,” Cush said as he stared out into the vast swamp. His eyes were narrowed searching for any sign of movement. Trik had mentioned in his text that they would be heading into the swamp that morning to speak with a Voodoo woman. How on earth the woman factored into Elora’s whereabouts he did not know, but with the possibility that Voodoo magic was involved, the tension in him had risen to an explosive level.
Only a few minutes passed when Oakley unfolded his arms and pushed away from the Jeep. “Really, we’re just going to stand here and wait on them to come back, when we don’t even know if they will come back? Trik said they were meeting some creepy Voodoo chick, right? So how do we know that she hasn’t worked some Voodoo mojo on them? How can you stand there all calm and stoic when your king and my sister’s best friend might be out there being dangled over the water as gator bate in some weird Voodoo ritual?”
Cush watched the rant with a calm face, though he felt anything but calm on the inside. When Oakley finally finished he let out a long sigh. “Make no mistake boy, there is nothing calm about what I am feeling. And you’re right, I can’t just stand here. Not when she’s out there in the hands of a mad dark elf.”
A slow grin started to spread across the human’s face and a glint that would surely lead to no good shone in his eyes. “Does that mean we aren’t just going to stand here like two toads shooting the breeze?”
Cush shook his head as he pushed away from the vehicle. “I don’t know where humans get their sayings from, but I’m thinking it’s time to find a new source when you start comparing yourself to toads.”
Oakley started to respond but Cush held up a hand to stop him. “We’re going but you have to do everything I say. If I say jump—”
“I know, I say how high,” Oakley interrupted.
Cush’s looked at him with narrowed eyes as he tilted his head to the side. “No, I was going to say if I tell you to jump then you jump without hesitation. If you stop to ask how high, you’ve already disobeyed the command, and you’re probably dead.”
“You’re right,” Oakley declared. “You really don’t get human sayings.”
Cush didn’t respond, instead he turned and started walking toward the thick, moss covered trees. He didn’t look back to see if Oakley was following. He had a feeling his Chosen’s brother wouldn’t last long in the bayou without him and the human was well aware of it.
“So what about the alligators?” Oakley asked as he jogged to catch up.
“What about them?” From the corner of his eye, Cush saw the boy shrug.
“They sort of live in the type of swamps we are currently walking into,” Oakley pointed out.
“I guess it’s a good thing I have you with me.”
“Why would that be?”
A slow smile spread across Cush’s usually indifferent face. “I’m pretty sure I run faster than you.”
Oakley’s lips pursed together as he shoved his hands into his front pockets. “I hate that I never know when you’re being serious or when you’re joking.”
“Didn’t Elora tell you? Elves don’t joke. She claims we have no sense of humor.”
Cush led them deeper into the trees until they could no longer see the motel behind them. They were shrouded in a forest filled with secrets and shadows. Water sloshed in the bogs around them as unfamiliar sounds rang out in a chorus like a rehearsed anthem. Tree branches stretched out above their heads dripping moss like streams of green blood.
The setting itself was enough to make most turn back and run for the cover of even a dilapidated roach motel, but that wasn’t why Cush had to force his feet to move forward. He could feel the evil that had no doubt lived in that swamp for decades and probably longer. On the outside it coated his skin like thick oil, but on the inside it moved like a slithering snake searching out his weaknesses to use against him. Cush felt his own magic rise up in retaliation to the intrusion and shove the presence from his body. He he
ard a gurgling sound from behind him and whipped around to find Oakley grabbing at his neck attempting to loosen a noose that was not there.
“It’s an illusion, Oakley,” Cush calmly told him as he stepped toward the struggling boy. “It isn’t real. You have to tell yourself and believe it is not real.”
As Oakley continued to gag, Cush realized that Elora’s brother wasn’t going to be able to obey that command. He was too far gone, caught in the web of whatever malevolence had taken root in the eerie swamp. Suddenly Oakley doubled over. His mouth was open in a silent scream, and his hands gripped his head as though it had splintered into pieces, and he was attempting to hold it together. His eyes had lost all recognition of reality and Cush could tell that he was trapped inside whatever it was that was holding him hostage. He rushed forward and shoved Oakley’s hands away and replaced them with his own. Cush reached for the magic bestowed upon him by the Forest Lords. It was a part of who he was, and just like any elf he could wield it for good or evil. Light emanated from his hands and flowed into Oakley. He sought out the malicious presence that he had felt trying to enter his own mind and radiated the light into it. Cush broke up the bleak darkness that was attempting to take over Oakley’s mind. It had found his greatest weaknesses in the deep places that only Oakley himself knew about. The presence was attempting to use those weaknesses against him, creating a level of fear in the human that was crippling.
Gradually the grip it held on him faded and was replaced by Cush’s power. Oakley straightened and the light that had faded from his eyes returned and his face relaxed.
“Better?” Cush asked.
Oakley nodded but still seemed unable to speak. Cush gave him a few minutes to gather himself.
“What was that?” Oakley finally asked.
“It was whatever dark spirit that has occupied this swamp for a very long time. Apparently it doesn’t like us being here.”
Oakley shook his head. “That is some messed up crap.”
“Welcome to the world of Voodoo.”
“What? You mean like those little dolls they make to look like real people so they can stab them?”
Cush nodded. “There’s actually more to it than that. Voodoo is a religion for some people. It’s their way of life.”
Oakley wiped his hands on his jeans. Though he was beginning to get some color back into his face he still looked a little shell shocked. “Is it all evil?”
“Well, considering the spirits that they worship are lost spirits from the underworld, yes, I would say it’s all evil,” Cush answered as he looked around them searching out the trees for any presence. He felt as though someone or something was watching them, like a spider eyeing a juicy fly that was getting closer and closer to its web. It was with that thought that Cush realized that staying in the parking lot to wait on Trik and the others might have been the wiser choice. But he was pretty sure that whatever was watching them wasn’t about to let them leave now that they’d walked into its domain.
“We are keepers of the secret,” Tamsin told the man who had revealed an opening in what appeared to be a solid wall. Syndra had only been to this particular club one other time, and she had vowed then not to return for any reason. But that was before The Book of the Elves had fallen into the hands of the dark elf king. The eyes of the tall doorman widened before he bowed and stepped aside.
“Welcome, King and Queen and consort,” the dark elf said stiffly before ushering them in and slamming the wall back into place. “Please, enjoy yourselves.”
“Not likely,” breathed Syndra as the trio pushed through the crowd.
“This is where the elders hang out?” Lisa was staring in awe at the bright flashing lights and the beautiful writhing bodies pressing all around her. Already she was unconsciously bobbing her head to the relentless drumming beat reverberating throughout the room.
“I know you’ve dealt with our kind for a long time, Lisa, but there is still a lot about us you do not know,” replied Tamsin. “Elders aren’t just old. They embody everything elvish—beauty, grace, and wisdom, sure, but also power, excess, and greed.”
“So they just hang out in clubs debasing and pleasuring themselves?”
“Some do, some don’t,” muttered Syndra. “They’re elders. The elvish trait they embody most of all is unpredictability. You get what you get with them.” Syndra’s eyes shifted around the room. It was clear from her wary look that she was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.
“Are they here? Do you see any of them?”
“I don’t kn—”
“Well, well, well…a full-blown human and elvish royalty…isn’t this a pleasant surprise?” Syndra was interrupted by a soft purring voice as the embodiment of masculine beauty stepped up to Lisa extending his hand in greeting.
“Can it, Rezer,” Syndra spat. She glanced at Lisa and whispered, “Hands in pockets, legs crossed.” Then she turned back to Rezer who was giving her a quizzical look as his eyes darted between her and Lisa. “We’re looking for the elders. We’re not here to play any games.”
“Ah, such a pity. This one looks like she needs a drink,” purred the elf and from out of nowhere a small glass filled with red liquid was in his hands and he passed the drink to Lisa. Lisa, who was somewhat used to dealing with the elves, had to admit she’d never seen anything like Rezer.
“Hm, hm,” Lisa muttered. She seemed to be entranced by Rezer and began to slowly reach for the glass, never taking her eyes off of the dark elf’s face.
“No, Lisa!” Syndra barked, knocking the glass to the floor where it shattered sending thousands of tiny slivers across the concrete. “You, of all humans, should know better than to take anything from a dark elf, especially in a place like this. And why are your hands out?”
Lisa shook her head and the cobwebs seemed to clear. Her face tightened as she glared at Syndra. The light elf queen simply shrugged. “Pretty face, alluring voice. Back away from the train my friend, back away from the train.” Syndra turned back to Rezer who was watching her and Lisa with way too much interest. Her eyes narrowed on the dark elf. “Of course. Can we just find the elders and get out of here? The quicker the better.”
“Oh come on, Syndra. You’re just no fun. I remember a time when you used to be much more entertaining.”
Light―brilliant white light―exploded from the light elf queen’s hand, instantly illuminating the club, making it as bright as high noon in Hawaii. Syndra’s hand shot out like a lightning bolt, gripping Rezer’s throat. Dark elves all around them shrieked and fell back covering their eyes and cowering in corners. As if on cue, the music stopped, the monotonous beating no longer drumming their senses. A hush fell over the once noisy club. Syndra didn’t take her eyes off of Rezer when, from the corner of her eye, she saw her mate take a protective stance at her back. Power radiated from her body and if there were any who had wondered who she was when they entered, they now had no doubt.
“I know that your kind has no loyalty. You pay fealty to only your selfish pleasures.” The light elf queen’s voice vibrated with rage. “But you would be wise to not forget who it is that has ruled our people for centuries. Loyal or not, you are not human and therefore fall under the rule of your leaders. Speak carefully, dark elf, or I will remove your tongue. Then I won’t have to worry about the stupid things you might decide to spew.” She released his throat and took a step back. The light surrounding her didn’t extinguish completely, though it did soften, allowing parts of the club to return to the darkness that the elves there preferred.
Rezer straightened his shirt collar and then bowed slightly at the waist. “How may I be of service to the former king and queen of the light elves?”
The jab didn’t go unnoticed but it didn’t faze Tamsin or Syndra. They had no bitter feelings over Triktapic returning to his rightful place. A small smile formed on Tamsin’s face and Syndra took Lisa’s wrist and pulled her slightly behind her body. She knew that look on her mate’s face, and what followed could sometimes get
messy.
“You are a foolish elf, Rezer, and I honestly do not know how you have survived this long. But as it seems, you are our best bet for information, so I must stay my hand from finishing what my Chosen has started. You might take time tonight to look in the mirror and be thankful your head is still attached to your body. Now, enough of this imprudence.”
Syndra heard Lisa snicker behind her and jabbed her with a well-placed elbow. She had forgotten that the human woman often found humor at the most inopportune times.
“We are looking for the elders,” Tamsin continued. “I know that some have been known to frequent your establishment.”
The dark elf glanced around the club and it was obvious that he was regaining some of his confidence as he realized he indeed had information they wanted. He definitely should never play cards because his poker face was about as blank as the Vegas strip at midnight, Syndra thought.
“How is it that two of the most powerful beings of our kind have lost the elders?” Rezer’s voice was laced with mocking humor. “I thought Lorsan kept most of them on a tight leash.”
“Lorsan is occupied with other things at the moment and we didn’t lose the elders. You know that they are more powerful than we are and that they go where they please. You can’t lose something that has the power to keep from being found if it wishes.”
“Fair enough,” Rezer told the light elf king. “And how, exactly, do I benefit from disclosing this information?”
Syndra rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated huff.
“This one is dense,” Lisa muttered.
Syndra nodded. “Sometimes all they are is a pretty face and alluring voice.”
Tamsin’s eyes narrowed as they zeroed in on Rezer. His lips tightened and his voice was as cold as a blizzard that chilled all the way to the bone. “I am pretty sure that we have already covered that information and I really hate repeating myself.”