Sacred Betrayal: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 3)
Talon was across the room in that heartbeat, pulling Reveca into his arms and rocking her back and forth. Her arms went up his back hooking around his shoulders, and she closed her eyes as he kissed the top of her brow.
Cashton, who was still laid out on the floor, looked up at them and said, “I really thought you were going to kill him in that truck.” He shook his head. “You guys are good at this shite.”
Thrash laughed. “Over Amber? You’re fucking clueless, dude. There is no way in hell that girl could survive fucking Talon. The only reason Tisk did was because she was taking Black. That deal was set up before we ever sent Amber on her way.”
Thrash throwing out facts like that was nothing new, but those facts still cut deep into Reveca, how Talon shut her out when she needed him. She still didn’t know why, but was sure it had something to do with the shit Zale was saying. All the same, it hurt when someone you trusted betrayed you. It didn’t matter if that part of their relationship was overdue to end, or take a final break.
Reveca had flinched as she thought of how different her life was going to be now. How tense it would be with Talon and her now. Neither one of them would be willing to watch the other move on. Once mine always mine was a motto they both shared. She vowed then to push through it, and to find a way to hold on to their friendship. To hold their family together.
Talon lowered his lips to her ears. “One day that will make sense to you.” She looked up at him. “Always what’s best for my woman,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes.
“I’m fucking awesome now though, right?” Cashton said from the floor. He pointed up at Thrash. “No more calling me pretty boy.”
“You’re fucking awesome at being high,” Thrash said.
Cashton lifted his finger. “Plus side,” he said, pointing to his head. “Coming and going fucked my head so much that I had no choice but to figure out how do to my shit high.”
Thrash shook off his comment and pulled him up. Cashton put his arm around Thrash’s shoulder. “How’d you do that? They had Holden a good sixty miles away. I checked when I figured out what hit Reveca gave me.”
Thrash looked at Reveca and she grinned. “His boy taught him, just like he was told to do.”
Thrash looked away, not willing to think about Evanthe just then, not when he felt the war going on outside.
“Round two,” Cashton said with grin. “Or three, maybe four, fuck I don’t know. All I do is fight when I’m with you blokes.”
Talon let go of Reveca and sent a flame to the bodies on the floor destroying them, then they all marched for the door. Right as they got there a massive wave of power knocked them back.
“I just got off the ground, and here I am again,” Cashton said with a grunt as they all made it to their feet.
Silence. That’s what they heard.
“How the fuck did they do that all at once?” Thrash asked, looking at Talon.
The wind had stopped and so had the rain. It was twilight.
Reveca slowly made her way out, the boys just behind her. All across the fields were bodies of Rouges, hundreds of them.
Seconds after Reveca laid eyes on them they all vanished, went up in flames just like Talon always did. She looked up at him.
“Not me,” Talon said as he looked all across the night.
Reveca saw Jamison, Saige, and a few others in the distance, each of then giving her a slight grin then turning to leave. She saw the boys all there, everyone in the life.
Right as Reveca and the others had cleared the building, Talon set fire to it.
Echo came to Talon, told him Mathis had been called, and handed him the disk that had Blackwater’s confession on it. Echo had made it when he shifted into his image. It was a confession that laid out every detail. It said that he was going down and so were those with him, including Holden and Tisk. He said he was taking Reveca and Talon with him, too, that it was their fault for cleaning up the Boneyard.
The confession would give the lawmen exactly what they needed to declare all of this case closed. Every point, every murder, everything was not only covered in that recorded confession but Blackwater told them where to find evidence to back up his claims.
“Thames dealt with O’Brian already, too. Everyone at the station has the point of view we want them to,” Echo said to both Talon and Reveca.
Reveca grinned. She wasn’t ready to take O’Brian down yet. He could still be of service to her. As far as he remembered now he never even interrogated Reveca. He was now the prey that Reveca would toy with when the need arose.
Reveca moved past the boys. In the distance she felt a surge of power that was familiar and which broke her heart at the same time. She moved across the field as lawmen and their cars and flashing lights could be seen coming from a distance.
She held her breath as she approached him. “You made a vow to me,” she said with a trembling voice as she looked up at Dagen.
He was quiet as he looked down at her, then he nodded to a distant jeep that River was sitting in, looking soaked and exhausted. “She’s persistent.”
“She called you to fight my war?” Reveca asked, not really caring for the idea that she needed any Escorts to help her win anything.
“To help, not fight it,” Dagen said, looking around. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen this much action. It was good tactile exercise to say the least.” He looked at her. “I was sure I was too late. Normally I can sense you, that energy of King’s in you. You must have burned through it all before you got here.”
Reveca pressed her lips together before she spoke. “Emotion does that. Where is he? What happened?”
Dagen looked past her at Talon talking to Mathis and the firemen that were pulling up.
“He woke from the spell like you said. We put him in a routine like you said.”
“And?”
Dagen looked her dead in the eye. “And the last I saw him he was heading to the Veil.”
“What do mean the last time you saw him?” Reveca raged. “I put him in your care.”
Dagen smirked. “You synced your energy with him before you did so. He was already more powerful than me. How well did you think I could control him after you did that?”
“Well enough to not let him march into the Veil. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Crass cannot be trusted.”
“Oh I do, and I told him as much, but he wanted to find an old friend.”
“Who?” Reveca asked in a tone that could not hide her jealously.
“Someone he thought crossed him.”
“Thought?”
“Yeah, thought.”
“Dagen I’m tired. Tell me he’s okay and you have this.”
“I don’t have shit.” He lowered his head so his eyes would meet hers more directly. “But he’s never been better. Apparently he passed some test, some deal that put a divide between him and his enemy.”
“Revelin?”
“Right. You see, because he was linked directly to him, Revelin could jerk him back at any time. Kill him with a thought, which really made war with him a tricky little fuck to deal with. But that’s not the case now.”
“What do you mean?”
“King had to sever the link.”
“Are you saying he’s not an Escort anymore?”
“No, I doubt he will ever not be one of us. He’s too good at it. I just mean that now if Revelin wants to kill him, he’s going to have to show himself, fight him like a man. King severed his connection to him.”
“Which will help him kill him, right? The two of you can build your armies faster.”
“That is the theory. We still have that other shit to deal with,” Dagen said with a glance to Cashton.
“Not today, and when that time comes you will fight back to back with him.”
“I understand that is the plan,” Dagen said with a wink.
As he walked away it was all Reveca could do to not call him back to her, to not tell him to take her to King, for
her to tell him that she couldn’t handle it—to say she wasn’t strong enough to let him go.
She didn’t.
Reveca glanced at River and knew that if one day down the road she couldn’t handle the agony anymore, River would lead her to Dagen—and then to King. One degree of separation. That was all that was between them.
Reveca moved through the last bits of her drama in a haze. Mathis interviewed her. She told him she was afraid for her life when she said that Talon ran drugs, that Blackwater had told her to say that when Mathis came in the room.
Mathis was the first of a host of lawmen to interview Reveca, Talon, and Thrash, even Cashton. And they got the same story over and over, one that fit perfectly with the confession they saw on the disk that Talon gave them. One that fit with witness testimonies of their own people that had seen Blackwater harassing Reveca at the station, asked them to load the boys on the truck.
More questions would no doubt arise over the next few days, but for now, this deal was put to bed.
It was tradition to ride your bike home when you broke free from the chains around you; it was an omen of freedom.
And that is exactly what Reveca and the others did. Their rides were brought to the old mill by other riders who took the van back.
Reveca rode in formation with Talon—right at his side as she always had—side by side, not behind or in front.
Before they ever pulled into the Boneyard lot they could hear the cheers coming from those waiting on them. More people were present that night than there had been in years.
Reveca parked her bike, but she wanted to run, which is why she didn’t turn it off. She could feel King, his presence. The hum of his energy was so strong that she couldn’t stand it. She was afraid of her tomorrows for the first time in her life, she really was. Now his memory, his energy signature was entangled in her Boneyard, what once was her safe haven, a stage she stood upon.
Talon walked to her bike and turned it off and looked right at her, ignoring everyone who wanted her attention. “We’re going to get through this, no matter how long the road is.” His dark eyes searched hers slowly looking for a way in, but he found none. She was dim, so deep inside that Talon had no clue how to get her out.
“You hurt me,” she said, looking up at him.
“It was for your own good,” he said with a pain in his whisper and a curse, wanting her to understand what he couldn’t explain.
He wanted to tell her she was his world, always would be, but he couldn’t find a way to do so. A way for them to be friends, best friends and nothing more. He couldn’t, not this soon, when it was still raw, when it still hurt the pair of them.
Reveca shook her head and looked away.
“It’s going to suck for a while, I know that, Reveca. But you can’t shut me out, not when you make some fucked deal with Crass. Not when the risk is that high.”
She moved off her bike. “I had it handled.”
“Then why do you look like hell?”
“Because sometimes handling shit is not fun,” she said with a sharp nod then walked away from him.
She hugged those she passed, made sure she picked up Star when she hugged her.
Bastion was in her path as she moved toward the house. She reached up and cupped his face. “You did good. Your dad did good.”
“Come to me?” Bastion asked. Reveca nodded.
“Fuck yeah,” Bastion said, as he moved past her to go to Thrash.
On the front porch she found Gwinn. “Shade should be pulling in any second.”
“I know.”
“Proud of you,” Reveca said with an easy smile. Gwinn stood and squeezed Reveca to her. “Go have some fun, feed,” Reveca said with a nod to the lot. Gwinn sucked in a deep breath then did as she was told.
Reveca moved through her house at length, bringing all the flowers in the vases back to life again then slowly climbed the steps to her room, thinking of GranDee with every step. “Oh what a tangled web we weave,” Reveca whispered to herself when she stepped in her room.
Numb: that’s how she felt. This pause right after a battle, right after she had the vengeance she wanted; it always made her so numb, and a bit scared.
She knew when it was over that there was another one waiting, one she’d have to find a way to understand, then conquer, just like all the ones before.
She walked to her balcony and as she opened her doors she drew in a deep, grieving breath.
Petals. A shit load of them were on her porch and floating inside on the wind.
She cursed under her breath, knowing the spell she’d said at dawn to send them to someone who needed a smile. She sure as fuck needed a smile. But not the memory. Not the ache in her chest.
As she tried to find the will to send them away, to let this last fragment of her night with King vanish she heard, “Hello, love, did you miss me?”
When she glanced to her side she nearly fainted.
King’s otherworldly blue stare wrapped in thick lashes slowly moved over her, and as it did, his energy restored all Reveca had lost in the battle. Waves and waves of heated, sensual energy moved through her soul.
Each causing her to lose her breath.
“It’s going to take far more than a spell or two, to get me over the likes of you,” King said in a deep, raspy tone.
Reveca moved her head side to side, in dismay, in denial, in every emotion there was.
King stared, let a lingering smile come to him. He knew the two of them had a long road before them, and it wasn’t the war that would be hard, it was them. It was them figuring out how to trust each other, them learning to live side by side.
They were both independent and stubborn. She had a life, a family that never knew her to be with a different man.
He knew he was going to have to get her to fall in love him, and he was prepared for the challenge. He was prepared to weather everything she threw at him.
That relief in her eyes, the way her chest was rising and falling, the blush on her skin, was all a step in the right direction. It was a sign that he had a chance, they had one.
It was time for their ride to begin.
Are you ready for Season Two? http://www.authorjamiemagee.com for preorder information.
Where To Find Jamie Online:
authorjamiemagee.com
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Other Books by Jamie Magee
“Web of Hearts and Souls”
Insight (Book 1)
Embody (Book 2)
Image (Book 3)
Vital (Book 4)
Vindicate (Book 5)
Enflame (Book 6)
Imperial (Book 7)
Blakeshire (Book 8)
Emanate (Book 9)
Exaltation (Book 10)
See (Book 1)
Witness (Book 2)
Synergy (Book 3)
Redefined (Book 4)
Derive (Book 5)
Rivulet (Book 1)
Contemporary Novels:
Impulsion
Friction
Deploy
Acknowledgements
Over the past four years I have published seventeen novels and each of the acknowledgements are moved from one novel to the next. That wasn’t done to take short cuts, but because on this journey I have been blessed enough to keep the same souls at my side. I wanted to take the time with this acknowledgement to state how precious they are to me.
My husband, no doubt, deserves some kind of medal! The man is there from the first instant the idea is thought to life, through the long days of writing where I slip into another world. He manages the blessed life we have built, taking care of our little ones, making sure that there is some kind of substantial meal on the table for each of us. He’s a saint when it comes to telling me what day of the week it is, and letting me know that dawn is approaching and it might be a good idea to get some sleep. He understands that music drives me and is just fine wi
th the same song playing on repeat for days until I have the scene trapped in words. He’s used to having a conversation with me and in mid-sentence I stop and rush to write a line down. There is no doubt that he didn’t sign up to share his wife with the fictional family that always dances in my mind, but he rocks it all the same. I can’t tell you how amazing it is to have someone want your dreams as much as you do, someone that never lets doubt creep into your mindset.
My children, they make me smile every day. They are now to the point where they’re all for naming characters, dancing to that same song that plays over and over. They love to joke about ‘mom’s bubble’—they know that mom dreams wide awake and tease me when they have to pop that bubble to tell me something.
Steffini Walker, Sabrina Wells—there are not words to express how thankful I am to have found you both! Your love for these characters inspires me each and every day. I love you girls!!
Editors, they come in all shapes and sizes, each with their very own style and outlook on the words they’re reviewing. I struck gold with mine, and I mean that. It is hard to find someone who can not only edit the horrid mess I leave behind in my creative rushes, but to also find someone that can strengthen your story and not alter your voice. Someone who is not afraid to tell you exactly what you need to hear good or bad, to fortify your daydreams into words. Todd Barselow is a saint and I count my lucky stars each day that I found him in this crazy publishing world.
Graphic designers are one of the unsung heroes of the publishing world. Which is sad because they’re the ones that give your daydreams a face, they bring the emotion and definition to your work that readers new and old will recognize over time. Emma Michaels is another gift; she not only helped me find the image for my debut novel, Insight, but has also been through each of my covers since. She has a way of understanding exactly what I envision and does not rest until that vision is there before us both. This cover was far different from the others. It had to be more than an image that may or not change over the course of time. It had to be a logo, a brand, something that could be identified with this story for seasons to come. Emma rose to that challenge, and I have to say this is one of my favorite covers. It’s almost as if she saw the emblem in my mind clear as day and worked until it was created. Emma, you are amazing!