“I know it seems foolish for me to tell you I’m not shy when you make me tremble.”

  Shade was upon her then, looming above. She arched her neck back, and gazed up at him.

  Carefully he reached for her hand, put it upon his chest. “Feeling’s mutual,” he said gruffly when he knew she felt his body quiver.

  “I don’t want to fight anymore,” Gwinn said carefully. “I don’t want to feel divided.”

  He breathed in. He was hearing her but sensing her more so. “I’d run to the end of the universe with you, Gwinn, you know I would. But this is my family, and I have an honor I have to uphold, that I have to defend.”

  “I’m scared,” she admitted, hating how her phrase counteracted everything she had been trying to tell him.

  He drew back and looked down at her, prepared to slaughter whoever had hurt her.

  “I feel something, Shade. Some power, some blind fate, it’s all around me waiting for me to see it, to understand it—and I won’t.”

  His stare questioned her.

  “I’m scared it’s going to take me from you and I won’t let it.” Her eyes watered. “I’m scared your honor is going to take you from me. I want to crawl inside your chest and never leave, but I can’t because you think you’re going to break me.” Her hand clutched his shirt, pulling him forward.

  His hands flew to her face, framing her cheeks, his violet eyes rapidly searching hers. He always felt a pull to her, a vibration, and recognition of something otherworldly, unexplainable, but just then as she spoke the strangest sense of déjà vu struck him.

  He needed to question it, he needed to grasp anything that told him who he was before he awoke outside of GranDee’s property long ago, with Evanthe lingering over him—before Reveca brought him back from a death he didn’t recall enduring, a life he couldn’t remember living.

  Instead, he crashed his lips into hers and deepened his kiss, only dropping his hands to reach for those long legs and pull them around him.

  He had to kiss her long enough to clear his head, then they were leaving. He was taking her away…and then they’d see just how breakable she was.

  Chapter Four

  Adair expected any number of people to come check on her as she sat perched on the table in Church.

  She was sure Reveca would come back in once she saw Talon leave, or Judge would once he calmed down. Or even Gwinn once she saw everyone free and about. She even assumed the other Sons she now remembered would check on her, but no one came.

  To say the least, she felt buzzed. Her body was still wickedly sensitive and her mind was swimming with information.

  No answers.

  After a long while she made her way up the hall. A party was in full swing. You’d never know there was a war lurking, any danger at all.

  Adair had to push her way through the bodies as she made her way toward the lounge, looking for a familiar face.

  Her path only made her all the more dizzy and caused her new flooding memories to become more solid. She remembered sneaking away with Judge down the long hall she was in, she remembered partying with the sway of the crowd. She remembered how happy her family was there, how it was, as Talon said, her home.

  Now it wasn’t.

  The lounge was even more packed.

  Star was on stage, a full band and a guitarist Adair had never seen next to her.

  Adair’s gaze moved across the room rapidly looking for Gwinn.

  Instead, she found Judge, Scorpio, Thames, most of the inner circle, watching a blonde dance on a pole off to the side, along with a few of her friends. Their stares were primal. Perhaps even hungry.

  Yep, Gwinn, you spelled him all right, Adair thought as her gaze moved back to Judge, and she noticed how tense his shoulder were, the pull of his predatory gaze—he was ready to strike. And apparently it didn’t matter what piece of ass it was.

  Seeing it did nothing but make her feel sick.

  She staggered out of the lounge, looking for air. The last thing she knew how to do was comprehend this Club, even with her newfound memories—how could they all crowd around her one moment, carry such a deep degree of respect and sadness, even rage for her protection, and the next whore after one fucking blonde.

  Outside in the distance she saw King and Reveca on the porch of the Victorian home and couldn’t bring herself to go there just then. Instead, she walked around the garage, taking in deep breaths and sorting thoughts and emotions as effectively as she could.

  She rested on the picnic table just behind the garage. Its path led to the swamp houses in the distance.

  Not long after she was there, a shadow approached from her side. Adair jumped back, reaching for her gun, hating she was caught off guard but then settled when she saw Miriam.

  “Hey,” she said faintly.

  Adair glanced over her; her long red hair was ragged, unkempt. Her stare was cagy and she had dark circles beneath her eyes. If possible, she looked even thinner than the last time Adair had seen her.

  “You look awesome,” Adair said a bit brashly.

  “Being cursed does that to a soul,” she said as she pulled herself up to sit next to Adair, wincing as she did.

  After a moment Adair spoke. “They may kill you,” she said honesty.

  Miriam looked down shamefully. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Why?” Adair asked.

  “You told me to bring the grimoire, I did. Jade waited ‘til I got here to attack.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about, that’s not why they will kill you.”

  Miriam looked away.

  “Answer me.”

  “Because he was an asshole, okay!”

  “You seduced a man because he was an asshole?”

  Miriam all but snorted. “He hurt my feelings. I struck back. It was a game.”

  “You knew he was a Son. You knew Reveca’s rep. I can’t help you.”

  “Would you if you could?”

  Her words stung Adair. “I don’t know.”

  “You like him?”

  “Something like that,” Adair admitted.

  “Not that I’m in the right position to say anything, but I’m not sure he’s a good match.”

  Adair tossed a hard glare at her.

  She shrugged. “He’s a borderline sadist.”

  “What did he do to you?” Adair asked, sure she didn’t want to know.

  “Likes to watch,” Miriam said, moving her troubled gaze forward.

  “I’m not giving you my sympathy.”

  “I didn’t ask for it.”

  Silence grew thick around them.

  “Do you know when they’re going to kill me?” Miriam asked weakly.

  Feeling conflicted by her own emotions, Adair hesitated before she answered. In her mind she kept imagining Judge pulling Miriam to him, the lust in his gaze. “Not a clue.”

  She looked down. “Well, I hope I see you free from the demons chasing you before it happens.”

  Adair did too.

  “Did, um, when you were here before, did you hear anything about the Sons?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like if they were in danger? Pain?”

  A sarcastic smirk came to her. “They were all about both, but the ones aiming it not receiving it.”

  Adair bit her lip, telling herself to stop being jealous, angry—to stop fucking caring.

  “Why?”

  “I just wondered if you heard anything about Talon.”

  “You mean why is he living in the swamp house,” Miriam said with a nod to one of the larger ones a few hundred paces away from where Adair had chosen to hide out.

  “That’s right,” Adair said absently as her memories bubbled up. “Before, Reveca lived in the other house—with Talon.”

  “And now she has the dude who apparently likes to climb.”

  Adair lifted a brow in agreement. King was always in a lofty spot, though she was sure he didn’t climb anywhere.

  “Must be recen
t,” Miriam said right as Adair decided to let the thought go.

  Adair chose not to ask how recent. She didn’t want to know the last time Miriam had tossed on an illusion spell and pulled Judge between her legs.

  “Must be why he’s weak, why dreams are seeking him,” Miriam said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The past few days I’ve seen sleep all but reach out and grasp him.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

  “Look, I don’t know what Talon or any of these other Sons are made of, but I know Reveca is a powerful witch and witches draw power from energy. If she tossed Talon to the wayside, then she’s slowly killing him. His dreams can save him, at least clear his head long enough for him to figure out how to save himself.”

  “You’re serious?” Adair asked in the most level tone she could manage. She didn’t want to let Miriam know she might have just solved a massive mystery. And she surely didn’t want Miriam to know she knew more than she did.

  “Have you not seen him? Spoken to him? He’s, like, a breath from death.”

  Adair held her breath, comparing the man she’d just faced off with to the one in her memories. He did look weaker, considerably so.

  What little trust Adair was grasping when it came to the likes of Reveca was fading—how could she just kill him like that?

  “Why will he not dream then?”

  Miriam shrugged. “Death wish, heartbroken—something is stopping him from getting his freak on.”

  Adair’s hands clutched the table she was on. She was sure she knew what it was—he had to be the most powerful immortal at the Boneyard, surely the most aged. Adair doubted there were many women who could handle him.

  Heartache and a death wish surely could play a role as well, but she was betting she was onto something.

  “You think the dreams are enough to save him? Will his mind restore him? Or does he need the real thing? Like, a woman to help build his energy?” Adair asked, looking right at Miriam.

  Like a bolt she flew from the table. “No. No way. I’m not a whore!”

  “Debatable,” Adair spat. “I wasn’t asking you to do anything.”

  Miriam trembled on as she glanced around the darkness searching for anyone who could have overheard the treason Adair had eluded to. “I’m pretty damn sure the witch would kill us both for the thought alone.”

  “Answer me. Are dreams enough to save, uh, someone who’s starved for energy?”

  “Like you don’t know that?” Miriam glanced over her. “You’re not a fucking nun but we both know you’ve been celibate for a hot second—and you’re a strong witch. Where are you getting your power from?”

  Dreams. A faceless man loving her, worshipping her.

  “Right,” Miriam said, reading Adair’s expression.

  Adair stood abruptly, her mind made up. Her nerve was weak though, and would fail if she didn’t go now.

  Miriam gripped her arm fiercely. “Where are you going?”

  “To him.”

  Miriam shook her head. “You even think of laying your lips on that man and you’ll die next to me.”

  “I plan on making him dream.”

  Miriam kept her protest in play. “He’s not going to do it—I can see his house from mine. He fights sleep. You’d have to seduce him, which will end up getting you slaughtered.”

  “Maybe so.”

  Adair glanced back at the garage, remembering exactly what Judge was doing when she saw him last—right alongside Scorpio. Innocence wasn’t a virtue at the Boneyard, and as far as she was concerned she shouldn’t be held to the standard.

  She pulled her arm from Miriam and kept her pace toward the swamp house that only had one burning light.

  “You have lost your fucking mind. What good is this going to do?” Miriam weakly protested. “Talley needs you alive to put him to rest.”

  Just before Talon’s door Adair halted, feeling her heart thunder forward. Talon was the Phoenix she was supposed to help. She had never felt more sure of anything else in her life—and seducing him to dreams was not by far a horrid affair.

  Yet a feeling stopped her, one she couldn’t explain.

  A push and a pull; she felt both.

  “You’ve seen him suffer for days?” she whispered to Miriam.

  “I’ve heard talk, it’s been weeks—they hoped he’d come off the road stronger than he left, but he got worse.”

  “So this is urgent,” Adair said to herself.

  “Seriously, what’s the worst that could happen if you leave him be? He loses his power?”

  To a man like Talon, losing power was the same as death. Adair didn’t understand how or why she was pulled into this, but her frazzled mind told her that Reveca was discarding Talon, killing him slowly, making him watch as she did so. He was a wounded flaming bird. He was death.

  Adair was sure just then it all made sense. If she were to save him, pull the thorn from his side, then he’d defend her. He’d be in her debt and make sure Talley was at peace. She would have someone she could trust without doubt if this played out the way she saw it.

  This had to be what the haunt was telling her. Seduce Talon into dreams, save your family.

  “You’re helping.”

  “With what?” Miriam spat.

  “We’re going to spell him, then we’re going to taunt him into his dreams.”

  Miriam’s gaze went wide as saucers. “You mean seduce. Look, I already know I’m dead but I also know Reveca can curse my very soul. If you think I’m rubbing up on her ex you’ve lost your fucking mind. I don’t have the power to do that anyway—I’m stripped.”

  “You have magic, I can feel it lingering on you.”

  “Lingering. At best.”

  “Well at best it can back up my spell, trap him in this house at the very least in case I have to use force.”

  “You’re going to have use lust,” Miriam asserted.

  “Right.” The flaming bird will turn to ash, survival lurks blindly in the mind.

  “Block the door.”

  Miriam grasped her arm. “If you are going to do this, do it right. He has to stay in Zen. He will pull out of it, so you have to keep your caress on him—no matter what.”

  Adair nodded once, telling herself this was for Talley. She had to do this. Powers bigger than herself had all but commanded it.

  She didn’t knock. She opened the door slowly.

  She saw Talon in the center of the room. His kut was off, and he was reaching to disarm himself.

  “What are doing here?” he rasped.

  Adair didn’t answer for a moment, her mind chanting calming spells, powerful ones that would put a human soul in a deep coma.

  Talon only swayed. His glance moved behind Adair to Miriam, a scowl firmly in place.

  Sure he was at least calm, Adair took in the room. There were empty bottles of whisky everywhere along with full ashtrays. The bed to the side of the room was made, the cleanest space in house.

  The olive green couch was in disarray, guns were laying across it, the cushions were out of place. The table by the couch had even more liquor bottles on it.

  Talon fit the room. Now that he wasn’t in the dark room Church was held in but under the light above his head, Adair could see how pale he was, just how dark the circles under his eyes were.

  Carefully she stepped up to him. He tensed but didn’t move. His gaze dropped over her then lifted. “Adair?” he grated with a tone that was thick with doubt.

  That meant her spell was working. Adair was by no means a pro at illusion spells, but she could haze her appearance if she need to. And she needed to. No matter how hard up any of the Sons were, they were too damn loyal to dare touch a woman that belonged to one of their brothers.

  Adair sauntered up to him.

  Her hands rested on his chest and slid up.

  He took in a sharp breath and stepped back. “Adair,” he said hastily that time, as if he were convincing himself
.

  Right then Adair felt Miriam’s magic easing over Talon and was grateful for it. She was clearly a pro at illusions.

  Talon’s scorn vanished instantly and something that looked like hunger overtook his dark stare.

  She’s trying to kill you, Adair thought, knowing her touch was as close to innocent as one could get—yet it was enough to awaken him.

  She couldn’t figure out why he would let Reveca do this to him, though—why he would not dream on his own. But she knew once she got him there, once he felt his power coming back he’d grasp it and fight his way back. He might be pissed about it, but he’d be present and strong—and in debt to Adair. Which was exactly what she needed.

  “He’s starved.”

  “Told you so,” Miriam whispered from behind Adair.

  Adair pulled Talon down, all but forcing him to sit on the coffee table, knocking empty bottles of whisky down as he did. She feathered her hands through his dark locks. “I’m going to save you,” she whispered.

  ***

  Her words were the last thing Talon heard before his entire body felt too heavy to focus on anything or anyone.

  He felt the whispered touches of a beautiful blonde who was standing before him, but he couldn’t figure out where Adair had gone, how she had vanished from his sight.

  He couldn’t comprehend any of it now that he was drifting.

  Like each time before he knew where he was.

  The sky was a deep gray, and the fields were emerald. Shards of red flowers were among them and like always the path led him to a place fit for the Gods. The walls were high and made of white marble, flamed with red strokes. Breathtaking flowers hung from every balcony. Tantalizing scents rushed across a gentle, warm breeze. Beauty hiding evil.

  He could sense her, the temptress who haunted him, who wanted him back in the grips of death with her.

  Like a ghost she emerged from the darkness just beyond the shadowy entrance of the towering doors.

  Her hair was like fire, blazing red and falling upon her nude body, a body that was white as snow. Her gaze was haunting, a swirl of fire, greens and browns.

  She beckoned him closer, into the depths of her home. One step and his death would be had.