“Not much left for me to deal with,” Thames said after a moment, glancing to the room.
“Like we said,” Judge said in a voice full of agony and laced with warning.
Thames had argued to Judge that Adair’s own mind would protect her from a trauma she couldn’t handle. He was sure if Judge was right, and Adair could not handle the knowledge of what happened to her, then he would see the evidence of such.
Thames swore to Judge if that were the case, he’d leave the blocks her own soul had put in place alone.
It was the argument Judge could not find fault with. He wanted to be wrong. He wanted Thames to tell him she remembered it all, that Judge had managed to remember the night more gruesomely than he should—he wanted Thames to tell him after all this the pure soul Adair Vallet was would not be altered.
All at once Adair felt an invasion, a dense energy that didn’t belong in her body pushing through her. There was pain, a resistance. She felt Thames knocking down walls that only had windows Adair had been peering through before—she felt emotion flooding to the surface as memories came back, grief the heaviest of them all.
She remembered Judge. She owned the memories, the sensations between them. Which only birthed a deeper agony when she realized they had been divided, by his choice.
Other memories came too, ones at the Club, ones days before it all came crashing down, how twisted Finley was. Just as Adair was starting to grasp that last day, the one that led to the tragedy that no one wanted to talk about, just as she remembered Finley handing her a book of spells and telling her to memorize the words, the flow of awareness stopped.
Adair fought to know more, fought to focus on the unknown and not the newfound memories, but the push she felt was gone. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw that most of the Sons were leaving.
“All better, sweetheart,” Thames said to her as he bowed his head then left.
Adair met Reveca’s stare, not being able to handle engaging Judge’s gaze. When she walked into this room he was a mystery. Now, he was a man she had given her soul to—a man who had seen parts of her she had never showed another. He was a man who walked away.
It was too much. Especially when she knew, grieving for her or not, he’d moved on.
“A few sleeps and it should all be crystal clear,” Reveca said. “Your emotions will paint the memories.”
“It’s not there. Not the last night,” Adair said, still feeling the betrayal.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Judge tense, could swear she felt rage come from his direction. Then he was gone, like he was never standing there.
“I guess I fucked somebody’s plans up,” she said dryly, not knowing what the hell was up with him.
“No,” Reveca said calmly. “You just confirmed what he feared.” She glanced to Talon who was on his throne. One nod from him sent Reveca on her way and cleared the entire room.
For a long while he said nothing, and Adair was glad of it. She was once again digesting knowledge, taking the information and sorting it as well as she could. And once again, she found frustration at her lack of answers and the position she was thrust into.
Talon, enjoying the quell of the room, finally spoke. “Welcome home,” he said with a rasp, daring to let a tired smile dangle on his lips.
Adair’s mind went wild at that moment, remembering Talon, how strong he was when she knew him before, how full of life he was, how safe he’d always made her feel. She had sensed that before, tried to claim those memories, but now like the ones with Judge, they had more meaning. She trusted him. She feared him.
Adair’s gaze trickled over him as she balanced what she knew in her mind. “Fire.”
Talon lifted his chin slightly, his dark eyes gleaming the mark of such a flame in their centers.
Adair drew in a slow breath, knowing Talley had loved and respected Talon deeply, honored him. And now it was her turn. It had to be the reason the echoing haunt knew she’d even care. “It’s going to be all right. I’m going to save you.”
Talon furrowed his brow. “That would be my job.”
“Sometimes we can’t save ourselves.”
“I meant saving you,” he said, leaning forward. Adair was the last woman on this earth that could help him in any way.
Adair stared endlessly before she spoke. “I’m not afraid of Talley. I’ll figure him out. Help me figure you out now.”
Doing his best not to look uncomfortable, Talon adjusted his shoulders and directed the conversation. “As you can see, there is a bit of tension about the Boneyard.”
Adair only stared.
“We are all here to help Talley, to help you.” He paused. “To help Judge.”
“With his vengeance,” Adair assumed. “I recall,” she said with a quake in her voice. “I remember him telling me what happened. I know the man that slaughtered his family raised Talley, supposedly.”
“And now you have confirmed the damage done to you was deep enough that your very soul has guarded you from enduring the memory. Giving Judge every reason to strike—to ascend this war.”
“Are you saying it’s my fault now that I can’t remember the end? After everything, you all still want to paint the only father I had as the devil.”
Talon’s expression turned to stone. Adair was sure she had somehow poked the beast that she now knew was nested next to the flaming bird within.
“Adair. You will not try and escape my protection any longer. You are not permitted out of the safety you’ve been placed within. If you ignore my orders you will regret it. I vow it to you.” He stood abruptly, flinging the heavy chair back ten feet. “The sooner you figure out you’re home, the better.”
And then he was gone.
Adair was left on sacred ground alone with her thoughts and endless questions.
***
Gwinn was so deep in her thoughts, twisted on what she had read before she found Adair awake and worried about what was going in church that she barely noticed the less than innocent glances that were slid her way.
“You’re gonna get a man killed tonight,” Star said offhandedly.
Gwinn looked up from the long necks she was pulling out of the cooler with a dumfounded expression. “Adair said to be me, and you say that,” she finally answered.
Star grinned. “And what does Gwinn want?”
“World peace and hot romance.”
Star laughed as she walked away. Over her shoulder sage knowledge flowed in Gwinn’s direction. “It’s only hot when there is a lack of peace.”
Gwinn moved to the edge of the bar so she could watch the door at the end of the hall just outside of the lounge. Star had said Shade was back there, and before he was in his bay, intent on finishing up a project he was working on.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Cashton said as he slid onto the stool next to her.
“You’re not voting?” she asked, not sure what was going on back there. Scorpio’s men were in the lounge, so were others that Gwinn knew to be immortal and high ranking.
“Not my vote to be had, not the memory part. I wasn’t present when the decision was made. The vote was already had though. Thames will restore what he did, the rest is up to her.”
“You sound doubtful.”
Cashton took a long drink from the beer before him. His gaze drifted above. There Gwinn saw King and Dagen perched just beside the large fans outlining the top half of the lounge.
Gwinn found it ironic they always chose a bird’s eye view of any room. When she’d asked Dagen why, he winked and said, “Watching, it’s what we do—observing the human nature, it’s survival.”
King’s cool stare was on Gwinn and Cashton, obviously listening but choosing not to engage. Typical.
“I was able to read a little. I know of Voyagers,” Gwinn said, watching King for a response. He didn’t give one—Dagen did. His telling half smirk was in place.
Cashton glanced to her. “Do you know only because you read of them? Or is it something more?
”
His question caused King to lean forward a bit, intent on hearing her answer from across the way.
“You act as if I should know more. What do they do? Move between dimensions? That’s not groundbreaking news. Escorts do that,” she said with a nod to King. “Jamison and Reveca did that when they came here originally. Reveca even told me Saige boards travelers from other dimensions when they arrive here.”
He arched a brow and spoke slowly as if to bring meaning and attention to each word. “Saige boards travelers from other dimensions who live on the same circuit of time we now exist on.”
Gwinn’s gaze moved to King. There she saw a faint grin, one that spoke volumes and told her she was on the right path, to keep digging.
“And Voyagers don’t,” she said guardedly.
“Voyagers are the keepers of Kairos.”
“The keepers of fate. I have to say I don’t envy them,” Gwinn said dismissively.
She was distracted as the door down the hall opened.
She couldn’t read the expressions, but most seemed grim. Shade was one of the last to emerge, and he along with Thames were giving all their attention to Judge—pulling him toward the bays.
Rush and Thrash made their way toward the lounge. Rush’s gaze dipped over Gwinn. “Might be best for you to head to the house.”
“Fuck you,” Gwinn said as sweetly as possible in the tone she was known for—one Rush knew.
He smirked. “He nearly killed me when he figured out I knew you.”
She looked up at him. “Exactly how did you tell him we ‘knew’ each other?” Rush had been a bit forward in the past with her—he never touched her but he was not shy about telling her what he’d do to her if he ever got his hands on her.
Gwinn was sure Rush invented talking dirty to women; he was that skilled at it. His size and dominance let him get away with it too. Gwinn would be a liar if she said she wasn’t a bit flattered by his attention when he’d stop by to check on Adair when she and Gwinn were roommates.
He smirked and shook his head. “I guess we should be thankful for unanswered desires from time to time. I’m telling you now though, this Club is strung tight as a bow, your boy being one of the tighter pulls.” He glanced past Cashton. “Someone in here will die if he catches them looking at you the way they are.” He patted Cashton on the shoulder. “Looking for a bunk mate?”
“Only if they come with a key out of hell,” he said with an unreadable glance up to King.
Apparently hell was exactly where Cashton and Rush were set to go soon. Their conversation shifted to the trip they were going to be taking with Reveca to see Crass soon.
Once again Gwinn was distracted. She sensed magic and a cold stare. Across the way, there was a blonde sweetly grinning at Scorpio’s first in command as tossing glares Gwinn’s way.
Thames had told Gwinn to watch for the ‘tempest’ before he’d gone into Church. With an excuse in hand, Gwinn made her way toward the bays.
She meant to come face to face with Judge, Thames, and Shade but from a distance she picked up on their conversation—all about the night that tore this Club apart—and thought better of barging in.
Instead, she sent a text to Thames telling him what to look for, and one to Reveca saying the same. Out of curiosity, she made her way to Shade’s bay.
Gwinn hadn’t asked before, but Star had volunteered the information that for the last few hours if Shade wasn’t in Church he was there.
She knew Shade like to work on his bike when he was stressed, another coping skill, but she also knew his bay was private. If he needed to find the space and privacy to work out any other issues it would be a good place to do so.
Finding the lights on was not a comforting sight. Neither was the low music and the open beers on the table.
The room was vacant though. One beer was empty, the other was unopened, still a bit cold.
She glanced around to the projects. There was the frame of one bike, and another one nearly complete. He had been in there working; his tools were out.
It cut deep knowing he couldn’t take the time to at least say hi, but he could manhandle his bike like there was no tomorrow.
Deciding she was going to confront him she sat astride his bike. To her it looked completely finished, polished to perfection.
The act was not an easy one. She still had vicious flashbacks of when she was all but strapped to one and driven to her doom. Slowly, she pushed each memory away. Her eyes were closed and her hands were clutched as tightly as possible when she heard a subtle, yet harsh swallow coming from the doorway.
***
Shade had counted down the days, hours, moments, the seconds since he was told when he could return to the Boneyard.
He knew Judge’s sins; the sins of the only way of life he’d known were on his shoulders. Gwinn blamed him for what was done to Adair as much as she blamed the others. She wanted him to stand up, be the voice for her friend. And for all he knew she was right.
But at the same time, Judge was his boy. Judge had saved his life and fought with him side by side. And he had acted the same as Shade knew he would.
Adair and Judge’s drama, along with what was going down between Talon, Reveca, and King was threatening the very unstable ground Shade and Gwinn were standing on. They kept finding themselves on opposite spectrums of loyalty and understanding. They were too new to each other to understand the loyalty the other displayed. Jealousy and anger simmered between them but it did so in silence.
Gwinn had all but hung up on him days before, had said she had research that needed to be done.
She never called back.
Today she kept her distance as usual, not bothering to even walk across the lot after not seeing him for days.
She completely confounded the fuck out of him.
His plan was to get through the vote and leave. He’d already been given permission by Talon to do so.
He was going to put her on his bike and they were going away—not far, but far enough to get some air. Far enough to let the bullshit they didn’t start but were tangled within to fall behind them, long enough for them to figure out what the fuck was going on between them. Long enough to find something strong enough to hold on to.
He only had a few more things to handle, and then he planned to find her in whatever library she was stuffed into and demand she left with him—well, in his mind he wasn’t going to say anything, he was just going to throw her over his shoulder and leave. He figured if his actions terrified her too much he’d taste them in time to stop.
And what did he find? Someone who looked an awful lot like Gwinn straddling his bike.
She might as well have been nude.
Her tiny black shorts were high on her thighs, the matching shirt barely reached her ribs, and covering her well-shaped chest, lace wrapped the entire package.
And those boots… Creator have mercy on him.
Her skin was glowing, dark and inviting. When she cast her glance at him the green gaze was entrancing.
He pressed his lips together, tasting the want in the air.
Part of him was furious when he thought of all the eyes that had fallen on her as she made her way here; the other part was proud, and he dared to pull his broad shoulders back a bit more.
“Who are you?” he said more harshly than he intended.
“An orphan,” she said slowly. “A witch…a friend.” She leaned back on the bike a bit. “An Ol’ Lady.”
“‘Dat so.”
Gwinn searched his stern face, once again hating his glasses. A thought from her lifted them, folded them, and rested them on the collar of his shirt.
She nearly grinned when she saw the involuntary shiver run down his spine. He may have encouraged her craft, but that didn’t mean he was at ease with it.
Deep swirls of lavender were staring back at her. She knew the color meant there was extreme emotion present—which kind was lost on her. She sure as hell didn’t taste exaltation in the air. br />
His stare flicked over what she was wearing.
“You hate it, don’t you?”
He pressed his lips together again then prowled forward. “You dressed like this for me?”
“No.”
He halted, lifted his chin a bit. Jealously raked over him. He could only image what those in the lot had said or done when they saw her, what thoughts rushed through their minds.
“My clothes.”
At this he raised a brow.
“Turns out I was a bit bolder than we would’ve guessed.”
“In what regard?” He knew it wasn’t sexually. He was haunted by the few encounters she did have. Hell, he thought about tracking down those fuckers who she let make a move on her over the course of her short life and slitting their throats for the fuck of it.
Her gaze dipped over him. “I tend to take what I want.”
Hearing that was not comforting. She sure as fuck didn’t take him. She all but pushed him on others at times.
“What do you want?” he asked a bit coldly.
Gwinn slowly rushed her hands over the chrome of the handlebars. “In short, you.” She glanced up at him, met the swirls of lavender, the curious tilt of his head. “I know that is not fair, though.”
He moved forward with a question in his gaze. She drew her leg over the bike and leaned back, daring to face him full on as he approached.
“I let you think I was weak, lost, broken. Shy and innocent.”
“Let me,” he said with a lift of his brow, not able to stop himself from licking his bottom lip.
“To be fair I was, or maybe I am broken. Just not shattered. Repairable.”
“Did I say you were?”
“You make me feel fragile. I don’t like it.”
Shade clenched his jaw and stopped himself from saying ‘too bad.’
“I suppose I was lost, but Reveca brought me home. I was shy, but that has to do with Newberry, overcoming him and Holden…GranDee.”
Shade’s entire body tensed, rage rippled from him.
Gwinn didn’t cower. Instead, she swayed one knee, held on to the emotions he brought out in her, the good ones, the sinful ones, all the while knowing he could taste them, and he could sense exactly what she wanted.