Tristan, p.10
Tristan, page 10
I open my mouth to retort and get her small hand in front of my face. “And to do that, you two need to forgive him.” She gives me a grim grin. “Your turn.”
But Tristan beats me to the punch as he leaps to his feet and starts pacing. “I am not going to forgive the son of a bitch. He went over to the dark side. That’s unforgivable.” My brother can be more rigid in his ideas when he thinks there’s an injustice than me, and that’s saying something.
“I can sense Cass’s struggle. I can feel it in our bond.” Aleah’s face transforms as she bestows a smile on Tristan as if he’s given her the best gift. “Let’s talk about that, shall we? Why would Cass go to the dark side? From what I can see, that’s not at all like him. He strikes me as the type who would go to any lengths to protect those he loves.” She drops that little nugget into the pot and lets it melt our anger, stopping us short. Why, indeed?
“I need you both to listen to me,” I say. “I saw Cass strung up in the basement of the sex club. Tortured.” I meet my beloved’s penetrating gaze. “He asked me to make sure you’re protected and taken care of for all time. He forced me out of that basement through a portal to save my life. While I was with him, I had a flashback, a memory was triggered. Lord Syrael and his friends sexually abused Cass when we were young.” I send the stream of images through our bond.
Tristan gasps, visibly shaken. Then he walks on wooden legs to the bar and helps himself to a glass of bourbon. I stay silent, trying to unsee the images that have changed my world view forever. Because deep down, very deep down inside, Tristan and I both always knew that something terrible happened to Cass when we were boys. The passing centuries may have made it easy to bury all memory of that terrible time, but now that the proverbial bandage that covered our eyes is ripped off, we can’t help but see the gaping wound.
19
TRISTAN
I want so badly to crawl back under the big-brother-as-knight fantasy that has defined Cass for me as the images of Cass’s childhood abuse stream through our triplet bond. In his weakened state, he can’t maintain the spell blocking those experiences from Troy and me. I’d always wondered why Cass kept himself apart from us, and now I know. Cass was protecting us from Lord Syrael and ourselves.
As boys, Troy’s emotion absorption powers had been so strong that almost any emotion caused him extreme pain. It was my job to help Troy learn to deal with his power and protect him while Cass had been off “taking care of business.” But dealing with Troy’s pain had been all I could handle, making it easy to ignore Cass’s absences.
Shame washes over me at my lack of insight; after all, I’m the one with enhanced empathic gifts. I could have sensed Cass’s pain if I’d tuned in. We should have been there for Cass.
When I can bear to look up, I meet Ali’s compassionate but determined gaze. She’s not going to give us a pass on this one.
“We’ve all made mistakes. It’s what we learn from them that matters. So, can we put this talk of killing Cass to rest and figure out what we do from here?” she asks.
“No, we can’t.” Troy leans forward. “There’s no known cure for a feral angel, especially one with superior power. Not even the gods have the power to fix Cass.”
“But our Chosen does.” Nye’s sultry voice sounds as she pops up behind us. “Raphael, get your heinie in here.”
On cue, the older man opens the carved library door and enters. “Madam?”
“Look. Do you see what I see?” Nye points her cigarette holder toward Ali. “Only angels with absolute power glow with grace. Hera forgot to mention that she’s a Transcendent Nephilim,” Nye whispers.
“That explains how she was able to capture the dark magic. The Chosen has come into her power.” Raphael adds more flourish to his characteristic bow. “Domina, at your service.”
“Oh, do stand up, Raphael. Would you two stop all the dramatics and tell us what the hell you’re talking about?” Humor tinges Ali’s voice, but the steel remains. “What the hell is a Transcendent Nephilim? Will this glowing grace help us rescue Cass?”
“A TN is a being born from a mortal and transcendent angel,” Troy stands up and joins me in pacing around. “This is huge. Your glowing aura displays your divine status, and legend has it that transcendent Nephilim are responsible for keeping the afterlife planes in balance.”
“You betcha. If you’re TN, you can easily overpower most angels and demons, even in large numbers. You can probably take down Lord Syrael single-handedly, and with us at your side, you’ll be unstoppable.” I take a long pull on my bourbon then look at Troy. “So, what do we do now?”
“Don’t look at me.” Troy gaze falls on Ali. “You take it from here, babe.”
I give my brother a nod, happy to see he’s not threatened by discovering Ali may be more powerful than any of us. Status and position never did mean much to him. Ali needs him, and that’s all that matters to him now. He’s opened himself and ready to fall on the proverbial sword if needed. I’ll do the same.
Ali sighs with the weight of the universe and, moving to one of the stuffed sofas, motions for us to join her. “I’ve spent my whole life waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it finally drops filled with a shitload of gifts—powers that I intend to make full use of. I haven’t got it all figured out, but I do know that the four of us are even more interconnected. It’s like you’re feeding my power.” She takes a long pull of her wine, sets the glass down, tucks her legs and leans forward, oozing intensity. “I keep getting flashes of things like Cass encased in glass and a battle with a powerful demon throwing fire. I get the sense I don’t win. Are they memories?” she asks. She looks from one to the other of us before fastening those beautiful brown eyes on me, pleading for help and understanding…from me. My heart takes another skip of joy as she sees past the façade.
“I need you, Tris. I need your insight. I need your strength.” The depth of her sincerity as it flows through our private channel almost knocks the breath out of me, but a thread of humor pulls the punch. “And then I need your hot body. Not necessarily in that order.” But her attempt to alleviate my discomfort falls short under the burden she’s shouldering and makes me love her even more. She will not bear this alone. Troy and I exchange looks. We need no words. Our Ali will not shoulder this burden alone.
“Let’s do this, brother.” I’m not sure if the thought originates with Troy or me, but that no longer matters. Finally, we’re united and have found our purpose—loving and taking care of Ali and each other.
I move to sit beside her, no longer able to bear the distance between us, and take her hand in mine, needing the connection that fully ignites our mate bond. Troy mimics my action sitting on her other side.
“They’re not memories, mon chou. If they were, I’d be able to sense them.” My memory manipulation powers allow me to access all memories, and I can’t see what Ali sees now. Ali squeezes my hand as if to say thanks for trying.
“According to the ancient readings, Transcendent Nephilim can see the past, present, and future,” Nye says. “You’re seeing your future.” She drifts around us, clearly agitated, but I can’t tell if it’s fear or excitement affecting her. And I don’t care. Right now, being here for Ali is all I care about, that and helping alleviate the tension that’s building in her. I squeeze her hand in reply. “I’m here.”
“So, I can’t shake the feeling that Cass and I are about to die. It feels like more than when I went into the Void.” Ali’s monotone doesn’t deceive me. A cauldron of emotion boils beneath her calm exterior.
“Don’t be a ninny,” Nye says. “You don’t die. Instead, the prophecy says you go into the Void until your princes figure out how to undo the spell Syrael casts on you.” She sounds almost triumphant as she announces this to us.
“And Cass?” Troy’s nonchalant tone doesn’t fool me. He’s no happier about letting Ali walk into danger than I am. All eyes turn to Ali. “Do you see anything?”
“Only us both lying in glass coffins side by side in what looks like a mausoleum or massive hall,” Ali says.
“There, you see? Nobody dies.” Nye taps the air with the jeweled cigarette holder she carries. “If you were dead, you’d ascend to Bardo. But you have to hope is your guys figure out which end is up sooner than later because you’ll be in those glass coffins until they figure out how to break the spell.” Despite being a ghost, Nye’s skepticism comes through with megaphone loudness.
“Let’s leave shame and blame out of this discussion,” Ali says.
Nye frowns but subsides and floats a few feet away.
“We know from the ancient prophecy that Lord Syrael will make one more attempt on your life to complete the Rule of Three,” Raphael says. “I’m not sure how Master Cassiel factors into the prophecy, but it is clear all three princes are part of—”
“The rule of three,” we echo.
“So, what’s the best strategy?” Ali’s glowing grace comes off her in waves, making me wonder if stress increases production. She’s equal parts glorious as she takes hold of her power and sweetly vulnerable in a way that makes me want to take her in my arms and never let go. And through our mate bond, I can see that she needs some of our loving care to renew her waning strength and help keep her doubt dragons at bay. But first, she needs to take care of business.
“We go to the Pandemonium Club tonight, we find Cass, and we get the hell out of there,” Troy says. “And we stay together at all costs.”
Ali straightens her spine and turns to face Troy. “That won’t work.”
“Why the hell not?” Troy retorts.
“Because the prophecy says the Chosen has to confront Lord Syrael and all this power oozing through me must be for something. I can’t run from this, Troy.” Ali uses hand gestures to emphasize her point. “How about this? The three of us will find Cass, and then you two will take him wherever you take angels for medical treatment? Wait, do angels need healing?”
“We don’t heal so much as regenerate. If it’s a mortal wound, we’ll need to take him to Bardo. If not, we’ll bring him here as this is the nearest Druid healing center,” I say. Ali nods but says nothing, so I continue. “We can’t take him to a regular hospital for many reasons.
“Domina, respectfully.” Raphael doesn’t raise his voice, but it cuts through our discussion like a diamond through glass. “According to your vision, this discussion is academic. Lord Syrael will administer poison to you by whatever means necessary, and you will join Master Cassiel in the Void for an undetermined amount of time. Perhaps—”
I raise a hand to stop Raphael. “We’ve got this from here, Raphi. Ali needs to get some rest.”
“What she needs is to learn how to use her power,” Troy says, equally determined.
Ali gives a dramatic sigh. “You’re both right. First, I’ll practice using my power, and then I’ll rest. Problem solved.”
“Assuming you don’t burn the place down with a divine light bolt in the meantime,” Nye grumbles as we leave.
20
ALEAH
“Do it again,” Troy points to the image of a mirror shimmering in the distance. “This time, make it disappear.”
At Troy’s insistence, we’ve been testing my magic for a few hours now, and I’m having my usual love-hate affair with his single-minded intensity. Once he starts something, he doesn’t quit until he’s done, which means being perfect. Or as close to perfect as he can get. As far as he’s concerned, we’ll be done when I destroy the mirror with both angel light and angel fire. Nye and Raphael had left long ago, probably bored out of their minds.
As usual, I embrace Troy’s help—he keeps me anchored when I need to be. But we’ve long since pushed past my capacity, and exhaustion’s starting to take hold. I’m harnessing power from something around me, but I’m losing energy faster than I can draw more in. Then, as if the drain from channeling my power into a weapon isn’t enough, I have the bonus of needing to block the current of sexual passion flowing from Tristan so I can concentrate.
I do a mental ten count reminding myself I’d insisted on Troy’s help knowing he’d popped into fanatic mode. I thrust a finger in his direction and give him my best bitch-goddess smile.
“One more, Troy, and then I’m done. We’ve worked past the point of efficiency. I need a break.” I brace myself for the expected argument because I can tell from his level of agitation that he’s nowhere near ready to quit yet.
Troy opens and closes those beautiful lips, gives a sharp nod, then surprises the shit out of me when he closes the distance and pulls me into his arms. “You’re right, beauty. I’m getting ahead of myself. You did good. Tristan will take it from here.” Dipping his head, he pulls me into a long, sweet kiss, only breaking it when we run out of breath. He pulls me against his chest, resting his chin on the top of my head. “You know I don’t like this,” he murmurs. “I just found you again. I’m not ready to lose you.” His arms tighten even more as his panic flows through our mate bond.
I squeeze back because I have no words that can comfort either of us. The only thing we could hope for is that we all came out of it in the end. “How will I find you?”
“Yes, how do we break Syrael’s spell?” Tristan comes up behind me and rests his hands on my shoulders, not intruding on Troy’s space but letting me know he’s here. “Any ideas?”
The tsunami of emotions flowing from my guys through our mate bond kicks me into caregiver mode. But now is not the time to fall apart. I’ve been in this place before. Time to pull up my britches and get the job done.
“Listen to you two.” I give Troy one more squeeze, then step back so I can see them. Their struggle to hide their fear from me almost breaks my heart. “You’re acting like I’m going to die or something. We know that’s not true—”
“No, we’re acting like you’re going away, and we don’t know how long for, how to find you or how to bring you back.” Tristan’s quickly proving to be the impatient one of the bunch. “Does your Nephilim power show you what might bring you back?”
“I keep hearing snippets of music and seeing a piece of chocolate-covered strawberry, and although I have no idea what it all means, I’m pretty sure you have to play my song to bring me back.” I laugh at the look of confusion that crosses Troy’s face.
“What?” The word streams through our mating bond.
“Think about it. You’ll remember.” Then, a wave of nausea hits me. Strong arms pick me up, but all I can do is focus on breathing.
“I’ve got her.” Tristan’s voice comes from somewhere far away. Troy says something unintelligible as my vision blurs into the blackness of a migraine.
When I open my eyes, the dim light of dusk filters in through the sheers covering the windows. I’m lying in bed with my back against Tristan’s chest, snuggled deep under the duvet. I move just the tiniest bit, trying not to wake him, but the second I stir, his arms tighten around me. He holds me tight, and his need to feel our love flows like a strong electrical current through our mating bond. The threads of my grace rise to meet his, and I let them weave the opening of our new love story. Time stops as our unconditional commitment to become all we can be blows away the storm clouds of uncertainty. Then, as calm settles over us, Tristan turns me in his arms.
“How are you holding up?” Divine light glows in his clear blue eyes as he probes our connection. “And don’t even try to hide your feelings, mon chou, or I’ll take you over my knee.” His wink takes the heat from the threat, but there’s no doubting the intent behind his words.
I run my hand over the muscle definition of his strong arms and the ridge over his retracted wings as I return his penetrating gaze. He needs to know that I’ll share my pain with him, that I’ll let him be my sounding board as I’ll be his.
“I don’t know.” And that’s the truth.
He says nothing aloud, but his message shouts through our mate bond. “Share your burden with me.”
Troy is always there for me, ready to pick up the gauntlet when I fall but is happy to leave me to deal with things until I need help. But there have been times when I’d wished he could talk through a problem without needing to fix it and move on. That led to guilt for wanting Troy to be something other than who he is.
“Talk to me.” Tristan smooths some curls behind my ear, and heat instantly coils between my legs. But right now, he needs my mind, not my body…And maybe that’s what I need to but just don’t know it.
I run my finger over the stubble on his cheek and love how he softens into my touch. “I’m not sure I know how I feel, Tris. I get like this before something big’s about to happen. It’s like when I’m about to have major surgery. There’s always a risk that I won’t wake up. I’ve gone flat on the table before. I woke up that time. Next time I might not.”
He strokes my cheek in that intimate way that tells me he feels me and knows there’s more but says nothing. I shut my eyes as I let the traitorous thoughts surface.
“It doesn’t feel right talking about Troy when he’s not here, but I sense through our bond that he wants me to work through my conflicted feelings with you. It’s not that he’s not strong, but when it comes to dealing with me in any pain, he’s usually in worse shape than I am.” The words rush out of me before I have time to censor them. “And sometimes, it would be nice not to have to be the strong one.” This time, my words are barely a whisper as I reveal one of my biggest secrets.
“And sometimes having to carry the load makes you mad as hell.” Tristan makes the words a statement of fact I can’t deny, but I’m not ready to admit. “And you can’t talk to Troy about it because it hurts him to think he can’t fix everything for you. But now you have me. I can help shoulder your burden.”
