“Awesome,” Adair said sarcastically.
“I need you to come to me with your trio.”
“What?” she asked, only halfway glancing at him. She could not let him cloud her mind, she knew what her trio was going to be if it ever happened.
He appeared before her, causing her stop short.
“You go to that night, you find me. And you give me this,” he ordered, handing her a cloth with a series of triangles on it along with broken text. A warrior’s creed.
“What for?”
“We can’t stop it, but we can stop him from seeing it. Holding their still warm bodies. You hand me this, and I will get him away.”
She glanced down, seeing something saying as much in a dead language. “And then he will hate you.”
Scorpio lifted his chin. “He doesn’t have room to hate any Son. He can be pissed, but that’s ‘bout it.”
“This is not a small change, it could be catastrophic,” Adair warned.
“You saw one clip of the night. I saw it all. I was there when Chalice killed each time before then. I know what to do.” He lifted his chin. “He will still crave vengeance, he will still fight with it—it will bore into his soul, but the last memory of his family, his baby sisters, will not be of their blood-soaked, warm, limp, bodies.”
Adair eased up to him. “Barter.”
“With this?” he asked, not believing she would be so cold about it. “What do you want?”
“Let me out of the Boneyard, then send him to me.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the statue.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but she raised her finger. “I was leaving anyway. I know I can get Dagen to take me.” She stepped up to him. “Judge and I do not need the audience.”
“What the hell are you up to?”
“I’m taking the boy to my Church. There’s a hatch that leads underground. Tell him to follow my scent.”
“When?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
He cursed. “Meet me at the Cage.”
Adair turned without another word and made her way inside the house. As she crossed to the hidden library, she spied Reveca pacing back and forth, King sitting calmly, as well as Talon.
She hadn’t spoken to Talon since she returned from seeing Brosia.
When Talon went to lean forward, she shook her head no and smiled shyly. She knew he was at risk, too, that Reveca had to make sure she sent souls to Crass to save him. They both needed to be focused right now, fighting their own battles.
His dark stare simply questioned “are you okay?”
Adair clenched the ring, now on her right hand, and the knife in her left.
I will be, she thought.
Chapter Four
“This is why they never trust witches,” Bastion stated as he glanced at the library door once more.
Only for Gwinn to shush him once more.
The spell they had to lay down for Adair, or rather prepare for her to use, had given Shade every reason to leave.
Once Adair had the spell in hand, she grabbed her packed bag and ducked out back. Bastion was able to put a cloaking spell around her, and unless she passed Reveca or King, it should have held.
Before she ever left, they had summoned Dagen, Adair’s constant guardian. They told him they thought they found a spell that would imprison Talley but they needed ingredients that were found deep in death, one in a different dimension all together.
It was not a lie, the spell could very well trap him, but more than anything, it was a distraction. Dagen would leave to get the supplies, knowing Adair was safe at the Boneyard with King lurking about.
And now Bastion and Gwinn were left to face the consequences of Adair’s departure. It wasn’t going to be pretty.
“King can find her in under a second,” Gwinn said, not looking up from her book.
“What are you two up to?” Bastion asked.
“You mean the all-knowing Bastion doesn’t know?”
“Not funny. What’s the point of her leaving here beyond putting everyone at risk? My dad is going to come unglued.”
“Trade you, I’ll face your dad and you face my ol’ man.”
Bastion almost laughed but then thought better of it. “Seriously. We got a shot?”
Gwinn pursed her lips. Adair’s idea was brash, and it would take perfect timing, but it was worth a try. “Maybe. No matter if we do or not, a few hours of them being alone is not going to hurt matters…it could be their goodbye.”
“There are a million places here for them to get their freak on.”
Gwinn shook her head and grinned.
“What?”
“You won’t know it until you find the right one, but witches pull nature when they are with their lovers. Storms, woods, water—you can always bet nature will be close, easily sensed. Adair is a Voyager and a witch. She wanted nature and elements and knew the perfect place.”
“And telling him to meet for a hook up was not an option? What guy would turn that down?”
“One who is in Judge’s place, hours from facing the man who killed his family and possibly losing his lover all over again.”
“What are you looking for?” he asked, wanting something to keep him distracted from his awaiting ass-chewing.
“A word,” Gwinn replied, searching line after line. Before Bastion could ask her which one, her finger stopped and her gut sank.
She charged for the door.
“What are you doing!” Bastion yelled. “She’s barely been gone an hour.”
“We have to stop them!” Gwinn shouted, moving the bookcase aside and running from the library. She crashed into Dagen, who handed her the ingredients with a half smirk strapped across his face. Then he leaned in. “You think you fooled me?”
Gwinn nervously glanced to the man at Dagen’s side. He was built like him, but his eyes were almost aqua, more green than blue, and his hair nearly as dark as Dagen’s or King’s. Still, there was no denying it, he was an Escort, a high ranking one judging by the level of vim she felt rolling off him.
“Did you stop her?” Gwinn asked, looking back to Dagen.
He shook his head side to side.
Gwinn narrowed her stare on him in question.
“King said it might trigger her trio being there. We’re down to the wire now.”
“Give that to Bastion,” she said, rushing by him.
Dagen and his buddy appeared before her. “Gwinn, meet Sven—your own personal bodyguard until this shit is resolved. You know, since I have so many errands to run for you little witchling’s.
Gwinn’s stare flicked to Sven, and she flashed a quick fake smile. “Thanks but no thanks. My ol’ man would have an issue with this.”
Sven grinned and glanced at Dagen, who said, “She only uses him as an excuse when needed.”
“I’m serious,” Gwinn argued.
“I am too,” Dagen responded, looking at her. “King ordered this, before your attempted distraction. The Sons have asked the Boneyard to be protected, and Shade requested special attention to be given to you.”
“That ass,” Gwinn said, feeling herself deflate. “I don’t have time for this, you better figure out how to keep up Sven.”
Gwinn all but sprinted toward the sunroom, only to crash into Talon as he was leaving.
She gripped his chest. “Don’t trade Akan—no matter what!”
Talon looked over her shoulder at her new bodyguard and gave a curt nod. He had no choice but to be open to their aid, if he wasn’t, the Sons wouldn’t be.
When Gwinn pulled at his kut, Talon pulled his brow together in confusion then glanced over his shoulder at Reveca and King.
Gwinn moved past him to talk to Reveca. “Listen, when we saw Mia, Shade asked him why he backed away from Akan, what the deal was, and he only said one word: Aleay.” She gasped for breath. “This morning, in the swamp, Jade looked at me and said ‘Creator,’ but I didn’t trust her, so I found it on my own
. It means Creator or, rather, spell caster—Akan is controlling the dead! It’s him.”
Reveca looked to Talon, “Well, then. The snake has been found. Let’s regroup, shall we.”
Talon cursed under his breath and slammed his fist against the wall.
“What?” Gwinn asked, jarring back from the sound.
“We planned to give Akan over. It would grant a degree of authenticity.”
There were two shifters who were strong enough to stay in form and schooled enough on the culture of the Devil’s Den to play a part for as long as was needed—to stall every backlash that would come, at least until the point the Club was ready to deal with the lawmen.
Echo and Thames.
Up until five seconds ago, the plan was for Echo to assume Chalice’s image and Thames to become Latour. They were going to freely give up Akan because Talon was pretty sure the fucker was a leech. The other fuck they had locked up said as much.
“We have two hours to fix this plan,” Talon said, pointing to Reveca as he left the room.
Reveca glanced to King. “We need more men.”
One nod.
***
Adair had spent the entire time she traveled back to the pool of water looking over her shoulder.
Scorpio did have a bike waiting for her, he did show her a back way out of the Boneyard, but Adair’s gig was reading people, and she knew, at the very least, the window of time she asked for was going to be dramatically shortened.
Scorpio had said she was a fool for pushing these boundaries. He even went as far as saying that Reveca said Adair should not be alone. If the wind of Kairos came, and if she messed up and hurt herself, someone needed to get help.
Reveca was right, it was dangerous. From what Adair had read, she knew in normal cases this was a ceremony. The entire coven would have been present as the wind came.
Adair didn’t care, though. She had to do this for herself, for Judge, after the broken road they had walked together, they needed all the help they could get.
Finding the hatch was not as easy as she thought it would be. She knew general direction Jade had approached her from, but, still, it was big swamp.
When she did find it, it looked as if it had not been disturbed in centuries. It was covered in moss, and there were no tracks leading to it or away from it.
The only reason Adair even thought to look there was because a giant white pelican had landed in the spot and all but screamed at her. She knew, with her senses as in tuned as they were, all of nature was going to speak to her and took the clue, finally finding her passage.
Feeling as if the devil himself was on her heels, and in some real sense he was, she ran into her Church.
The dome didn’t seem nearly as eerie to her as it had at dawn. The setting sun was shining directly into the water, so the dome was a dim emerald, and Adair could see the swamp life all through the water. It was both enchanting and terrifying to the watch the massive gators slide by.
A few quick words from her called forth the ring of fire.
Not wasting any time, she pulled her bag from her shoulder then removed the jar of lotion she and Gwinn had concocted that morning.
Adair eased the lotion across her skin, stripping down to her bra and panties as she did so. The smell of Jasmine filled the air with each sway of her hand.
Then she pulled out her chalk, and in the center of the floor, she drew her symbols, all from memory, with a silent prayer that the powers that be would listen to her madness and let her bend this law of nature—just this once.
Once every symbol was in place, she pulled a blanket out and covered the floor, then placed another on top of it.
Over and over in her head, she kept focusing, kept her intent close to her heart.
She had just checked everything in her bag to make sure she had not forgotten a thing when she heard the hatch open.
Her throat grew dry with fear. Her heart thundered, and her skin prickled with awareness.
Judge could have been face to face with her within a breath. Instead, he chose to walk incredibly slowly. Each echo of his footsteps jarred her senses all the more. The outright anticipation was killing her.
He was making no effort to hide his anger or his confusion; she sensed them filling the dome long before he appeared.
When he finally reached the threshold, his gaze only slightly flicked to the room, the majestic pull it had. Then his stare landed squarely on her.
She was all but kneeling down in the center of the floor, nearly nude.
“What is this?” he asked, his tone distant, tired.
“Our time.”
“Now?” he asked, scarcely holding in his anger.
Adair glared then reached to pull the sheet to cover herself. “Go.”
“Fuck, Adair,” he said turning as he rushed his hand through his hair. She knew he was really pissed—he used her real name. “Are you not taking any of this seriously?”
“Go. Leave.”
“You think I’m leaving you here?” He bellowed, turning to face her. “Hours, Adair. Right now, the Devil’s Den is circling, our riders are lining up to meet no more than twenty miles from here—and here you are like a virgin on an altar there for the taking.”
“A virgin?”
“Stop,” he commanded, finding it hard to look at her. She was all but pulling him to her, and he’d be damned if it wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be—needed to be.
“I told you, go. Your rejection was loud and clear, and if you think Dagen or whoever will not zap in here and take me back, then you’re crazy. I’d like to at least put my clothes on first.”
He growled. “Tell me why.”
“Why what?”
“Do you not want me to kill him? Is that it? You think it will change me.”
“What does that have to do with this?”
Judge stepped forward. “I know he was cursed, Scorpio told me, he told us all—it doesn’t fucking matter. He did it. He ended their lives, and they were not the only ones. Reveca told him to come with us when we left Zale, and he chose to stay, and he got his ass cursed. It’s his fault.”
Adair clenched her sheet and stared.
“You know if I touch you, if I take one step closer, all this hate I have right here,” he said as his fist hit his chest, “will vanish. I won’t be able to think about anything beyond you, beyond how you are my forever, and how I am going to spend eternity begging you to never fall out of love with me—no matter how bad I fuck up.”
When she remained silent, he yelled, “Admit it, you have sympathy for him.”
“I do.”
He turned away from her, and the room dropped a degree or two. The fire shrunk only to find its strength once more.
“He’s not going to fight you, Judge. He will take the pain, and I pray you will both find peace. I hope your deliverance is all you could have dreamed it to be.”
He looked over his shoulder at her. “I will never understand you.”
She unclenched her fist, letting the sheet drop just a bit. The enticing scent of Jasmine nearly knocked him down, making him fall to his knees and crawl to her.
“After tonight, one way or another, you and I will never be the same again.” She glanced around the dome. “I feel the power here.” Her gaze moved to him. “I remember how powerful I used to feel when you held me.”
She bowed her head. “You would have never come here if I asked because of the risk, because of the time and the distraction. I thought once you were here, nature would take its course, but it’s clear it will not.” She stood. “I’m going to take that as a sign, a greater power has spoken.”
She made it two steps toward her bag before he appeared before her. “Is this some reverse psychology?”
“This is me putting my clothes on, Judge.”
He held her gaze, struggling to read her. “Be real with me, Dove.”
Her gaze shyly moved over him, finding it hard to meet his eyes, just like the very first time
he held her. “About?”
“This.”
“I told you my reason,” she said quietly.
“And there is nothing else to it?”
“Are you going to leave here and kill Chalice?”
“You know I am,” he rasped.
“Then, I can not tell you.”
“Why?” he demanded.
“Because I don’t trust anyone or anything around the Devil’s Den. You may think tonight is a slam-dunk, and I would be liar if I told you I didn’t agree when it comes to the likes of your task. But I have a very thin line to tread, only one chance I can see to escape this spell, and if you know it and something goes wrong, then they will know it, too.”
“They’re mortals.”
“Who produce a drug that grants immortal abilities, that shifters are selling for them, witches are cooking for them—and that is only what you know of.”
Judge looked down. “I thought I knew a way to break this spell. A way Talley told me about, or showed me, the other night…but time is needed for such a thing.” He glanced over her. “Maybe more than time, but if this is peaking now, going down this very night…Dove, all we can do is run…hide and protect you behind the fortress of this Club.”
“What did Talley show you?” Adair asked growing anxious, thinking she needed to trash her plan and do as he said. Talley surely knew something.
The memory Adair had gotten hours before, the look she saw Talley and Finley share, told her they were expecting this doom.
With hands that were trembling, Judge reached for her hips. His thumbs traced her tattoo, feeling the raised scars. “To love you, give you my soul.”
“But you do, you have,” Adair said, even more desperate to know what he said.
“Kiss me, Dove,” he said as his gaze slowly moved up her body, finally meeting her eyes, the emeralds that seemed to spill across the room.
Apprehensively, she stepped up to him. Her gaze trickled over his sharp features, the deep pools of blue in eyes that were sick with pain, pain he only knew how to dismiss momentarily.
She eased closer then timidly leaned in to claim his lush lips.
He breathed in, inhaling more than the scent of Jasmine. He was outright devouring her emotions, the love she was expelling over him.