Fall of Kings: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 5)

  “Somewhere in the house a clanking sound was heard. Talley was there first, me at his side—Scorpio was defending Judge, or prepared to rather. Judge was too lost in grief to fight what was coming at us. In all truth, Judge wanted to die that night, and would’ve if Scorpio didn’t keep his head right.”

  “What was it? The clank?”

  Rush moved his head side-to-side. “Chalice. He’d dropped the knife he’d used. He was covered in blood, drenched.” He looked to his side at Shade. “And the fucker actually looked shocked, like he had woken up. He took off, we never found him. It was like he vanished.

  “The deaths of living families stopped not long after. Chalice’s redemption tour was over. We still hunted him though. Never stopped.”

  Shade leaned back on his bike and stared forward at the Devil’s Den compound in the distance. “He looked confused? Like Talley is now?”

  Rush, a hardcore black and white kind of guy—yet superstitious—tossed a glare at Shade. One full of a challenge Shade had no problem meeting. “Chalice is still alive, Talley isn’t. Not the same.”

  “Not now, before. Remember—before he completely lost it, he would do something fucking off the wall crazy beast shit, then he would just wake up?”

  “Then he completely lost it, yeah, I fucking remember.”

  “Was it the same?” Shade asked boldly.

  “Can’t say.”

  When Shade stared in his direction, determined as ever, Rush let out a growl then said, “I don’t fucking know. I never liked that crazy fuck Chalice. I never spent more time around him than I fucking had to. I know he cursed my brother then, I know he cursed Talon and Judge, and by my thorough observation all of them are very much fucking cursed at the moment.”

  Shade let the conversation drop. Chalice was a dead man, no way around it. No one was going to remember differently or accept more than met the eye occurred on that horrific night.

  When they were called home Shade did take the time to ask Reveca if she ever thought Chalice was possessed in the past. Reveca only paused, narrowed her gaze, then patted him on the shoulder and walked away. She halted a few feet behind him. “I did as you asked, good luck.”

  Shade blushed, and looked down. He needed more than luck. Gwinn was pissed at him, had been. Or at least he thought she was until he walked into his lair and found her astride the bike he was making sure was fit for her.

  She was dressed like a wet dream—tall boots, short shorts, a lace top. Her hair was long and loose falling over her dark shoulders. Then there were those cat eyes of hers, a mix of green and brown daring him to challenge her, to understand her.

  She’d told him she had misled him. She wasn’t innocent and shy. She was bold.

  He knew so.

  He’d felt it the very few times he had her in his arms. She was like a flame clinging to a wick fighting the wind, determined to not sway, to grip her existence.

  He’d pulled her legs around his hips and he leaned down and kissed her, owned her lips.

  He heard a rumble, a fight starting to pick up heat in the lounge and knew it was now or never.

  “Get on,” he said.

  Shade opened the bay doors, then came back to her. She was sitting as far back on the bike as possible.

  “Forward.”

  She looked at him like he’d lost his mind. When he saw her searching the lavender pools of his eyes, the excited yet nervous emotion, he reached for his glasses, but she stretched to stop him as she spoke. “Forward?”

  “Yours,” he said as if stating the obvious, not only the obvious, but a normal everyday affair.

  Gwinn jarred further back on the bike, denying the gift. Shade slid on behind her. His body, his long legs, hard chest, and powerful arms holding hers in a cradle gently he slid her forward.

  Against her neck he spoke. “Bold. That’s what you are, then?”

  Gwinn trembled. She sure as hell wanted him to think so but not in this manner. In the ‘will you touch me already’ way.

  “You have to face fears. Drive them. Control them. You own them. What life you give them is your choice.”

  “I-I-I don’t know how.”

  She felt his breath across her neck, sliding down her chest, tantalizing sensations warring with the fear that she already had.

  “I got you.”

  Even with her before him, she was small enough he could control this bike, but he didn’t plan on running this show.

  In a voice that was rich with seduction, Shade went through the basics with her again. This wasn’t the first time he’d thought to put her in control of her fears. She’d watched him work on this bike, asked the hows and whys a hundred times over—her mind never stopped, Shade was sure of it. She was a life-long student, addicted to knowledge, even if it was knowledge she’d never use.

  From behind her, Shade roared the bike to life, then his long legs guided them out. He sensed the tension building in the lounge, hell he could taste the anger—if they didn’t leave now, Shade and her both would feel obligated to rush to the others.

  Enough was enough. They needed their own time and Shade was determined to steal every second he could.

  Outside the garage whistles could be heard from those in the lot. Shade promptly flipped them off, then to stake his claim, slid his hands down Gwinn’s thighs and lifted her legs into place. Then his hands drew upward, tracing her sides then down her arms. He could feel the blush of her skin come to life under his touch. He wasn’t sure if it was him or the attention they were stirring. Attention that told them all it wasn’t a rumor, this was his Ol’ Lady and he was hers. Keep your fucking eyes and hands to yourself.

  Gwinn, like a boss, twisted the throttle, causing the beast between their legs to roar, and the crowd to cheer.

  Shade’s hands fell to her waist. He tucked her as tightly as he could between his legs then hovered around her. “Go,” he said against her ear, smiling when he saw hers.

  She tore out of the lot then peeled onto the road, both of them leaving the hell of their family and friends behind in the dust.

  On the straightaway, Shade reached for his glasses, not for him but her. He slid them on her face, blocking the air and what it might hold from her eyes.

  She burrowed deeper into the cage of his arms. He was sure the roar of the bike hid his groan but nothing was going to hide the effect she was having on him. His hard length was straining against his jeans and pressed against her back.

  For nearly an hour, he told her where to turn. Now, he took control of the bike, slowing them down.

  It had been a while since he’d been here. At least six months. Before then he’d make his way out here at least once a week, stay a few nights. Think.

  He couldn’t tell you why he stopped coming. At first it was the rain, it was near constant, which made the drive hard, half the path was sure to be flooded. Then it was just life, the script business having him on trips that were days long. Then Gwinn came, and he’d never willingly put this much space between them.

  Gwinn tensed when they made their last turn. Shade was worried she had recognized how close they were to GranDee’s. They weren’t going there, but still, her on a bike, driving or not, and going back—it was too soon.

  Hell, Shade had asked Reveca if this idea was too much. He couldn’t see her expression because he asked on the phone. Her pause didn’t help much either, but then she said. “No. It’s perfect. You need me to open it up?”

  He told her yes.

  With their next turn, Shade was sure Reveca had done more than open up this property.

  Low burning torches were lit, lining the dirt path littered with fallen leaves and sticks that had washed up from the constant floods, along with tracks and signs of swamp life.

  The bike had to all but crawl down the path.

  As it did, Gwinn kept herself snug against him. She turned to ask him where they where going a time or two but he nodded forward each time.

  A few miles down the torch path, a ho
use came into view. Most of it sat on the water. It was two levels, sporadically built. The porch stretched further in some parts than others. The windows were expansive; enough to ensure a sizeable fan could filter the air.

  It was furnished, well furnished. Shade had nothing to do with the decor. A lot of it was GranDee and Evanthe, it was their ‘project’ or so they said.

  Shade stopped the bike just outside the dock that would lead them inside. From there, it looked beautiful. Inside there were surely more candles lit as he could see the glow. A soft light that didn’t interrupt how the stars were reflecting in the water, the glow of the moon, or the fireflies glinting every so often.

  The home looked as if it was part of the swamp, and maybe it was. Shade was the only owner the place had every had.

  “I’ve—this is…beautiful,” Gwinn said as she slowly removed the glasses from her face.

  Carefully, wanting to hide her expression, she looked to the small fishing boat tied to the dock. Then she looked across the wide swamp,. She strained to see even further though she couldn’t, even with her immortal sight.

  “We’re not as close as you think. Fifteen or so miles, longer by water.”

  “That many?” Gwinn said not able to hide her disbelief.

  Shade leaned to his side and looked down at her, struggling to read her.

  “I—um—I recognize this,” she said with a nod before them. “I thought maybe, maybe when I stayed with her I could have walked this way.”

  Shade looked in the direction of GranDee’s, an impossible path for a mortal to take, then down river. Ages before there was a straight path from here to her place. GranDee would come this way to find rare swamp flowers she needed for her potions. Storms and time had altered the swamp. Now to get here, it wasn’t easy. For certain parts of the year, it was impossible—during this time of year, now that Shade thought of it, it was impossible.

  There was no reason GranDee would have taken Gwinn this way if she happened to take her out in the swamp. Gwinn strolling this way on an afternoon walk? Not possible.

  Knowing this he still only said. “Really?”

  Gwinn nodded a bit shakily. “I dreamed it. I mean I didn’t connect it with GranDee, even….even after my memories of the night started to come back.”

  “But you do now?”

  No. Not really. She just knew on their ride here, twenty minutes or so back they had passed the turn off to her property.

  She would never have paired this dream with her death. This home alit on the swamp…it felt like home. It was the place she kept trying to reach in her dreams when she was fighting for immorality, fighting starvation.

  She could clearly remember reaching the dock before her now and being pulled back, and how desperate it made her feel. She wanted inside—she wanted to be home.

  Each time she had woken from her long sleeps was when she finally made it to the door and opened it.

  She pressed her back against Shade unconsciously. She didn’t want this to be a dream. To walk the path before her and wake up discovering she had just fought death again. No, not now, not when she was finally starting to get a grip on her life. She had Adair back, she had her gumption back, and her craft and intuition was growing stronger.

  More than all the above, she had Shade. His display in the lot, his outright claim, the sexuality they both displayed for the world they lived in—it was a turning point. It was them, in effect, going public. A moment she had waited for, one she had hoped to instigate tonight.

  She knew the inner circle was aware of Shade’s claim, and in all truth they were all that mattered when it came down to it. But still, there were a lot of riders at the Boneyard. A lot of girls who wanted a taste of Shade…who’d had one. He kept them in the dark and until tonight, he’d kept her there.

  Now it was different.

  Now she was staring at a door and wanting desperately to open it but fearing it all the same.

  It was just too weird, to know a place…but, as far as she knew, had never been there.

  “GranDee found me here,” he hedged. “Well her great, great, great, grandmother found me. Her name was the same. GranDee,” Shade said moving his arms around Gwinn. “Reveca has said more than once they were one and the same. That the woman who saved me lived on in her bloodline.” He squeezed Gwinn. “Sometimes I believe her because the GranDee you know would tell the story as if she were there. Evanthe treated her as if she was there, too.”

  Gwinn slid to the side and looked up at his eyes. Blue, only a swirl of lavender. He was calm, calmer than she had seen him in a long while. He’d never really spoken much about how he became a Son.

  Gwinn knew GranDee, well, a GranDee and Evanthe were part of his past, but when she’d heard of the history, told by Bastion, everyone was mourning both of those women in some way. To say the least Gwinn was hungry to hear his version.

  He nodded to the bank. “I was there, GranDee said she was furious at me.” He laughed but it was a sound that was deep in his chest, scarcely there. “She told me dead white boys had no business hurtin’ her flowers—and I should be askin’ before I go plopping down a house in her swamp.”

  Gwinn lifted a brow and looked up at him. He shrugged. “I don’t believe it, because she was never, um, easy to understand, but according to her this appeared with me. Well, a version of it. I’ve added to it over the years.”

  “You just appeared, on the bank—with a house?”

  “So they say. The first face I saw, the first voice I heard was Evanthe’s.”

  His memory carried him back and stole his words for a few moments. “It was dark, confusing, then I saw her, this woman…gently calling me like a lost child.

  “I came to the edge of where she was, but I wouldn’t cross. I didn’t know her, and I wasn’t sure what way I was suppose to go. I just knew I was late for somethin’, or I needed to make sure I did something. It was critical. Life or death.” The near silent laugh came again. “I didn’t know I was, in fact, dead.

  “Evanthe brought me to the verge of life. She was all I saw for what seemed like a while. Then there was Reveca.”

  His laugh was now very noticeable. “She wasn’t sweet like Evanthe. She told me to take her fucking hand that instant or she was coming in after me and I would regret it for all of time because she didn’t have time for my bullshit.”

  “And you went.”

  “I resisted…for all of about thirty seconds.”

  Now Gwinn was laughing.

  “It was days before I awoke again,” he said, his voice growing a bit grave. “Apparently my mortal wounds needed time to heal. I came back slow instead of fast like the other Sons, so my body had to go through its paces a different way.”

  “How did you die?”

  “I don’t know. You can’t see it because of the ink but there is scar on my back, it comes out here,” he said, reaching just below his heart.”

  “You were stabbed in the back?”

  “And soaking wet, bleeding on the bank.” He looked to the ground. “GranDee said the flowers grew toward me, the swamp life swam by me, even though the blood was around me. She said she saw spirits, an army of them protecting me—that’s why she went after Evanthe. Reveca was too far away.” He shook his head. “Reveca didn’t really buy the story at first. She had ridden eight days, horseback, constantly, breaking away from the war she was fighting against Zale when she received Evanthe’s urgent message. She thought I was a diversion.”

  “It couldn’t have been easy living under her suspicion.” Gwinn had only vaguely felt such a thing. Reveca wanted to know where she came from. Gwinn didn’t know and even though Reveca was nice, nurturing, Gwinn felt the distance.

  “Evanthe told me it wasn’t her suspicion, it was the doubt she had with her born faith.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “I still don’t understand it.” He looked down at her. “You’re the first soul I’ve told this to outside of them. Reveca
vowed me to secrecy, but—”

  Gwinn swallowed nervously. She shook her head telling him to keep whatever he was about to say to himself, to not nudge the one witch who was far too close to a tipping point.

  He twitched a grin into place. “I can tell you anything. For you are bound to keep my secrecy.”

  Gwinn searched his eyes, feeling even more connected to him. He truly saw them as one. They had fought for days, had barely begun as a couple, and to him it didn’t matter, they were a forever.

  She only offered a shallow nod.

  “It doesn’t make any sense anyway,” he said. “Apparently, I mumbled a lot when I was on the bank when GranDee found me—or rather the spirits spoke my words. I was already dead, as confusing as that sounds.

  “When Evanthe pulled me to the edge with her magic I said the same words, incoherently. And when I fought to grasp the immortality and rise, in fevered sleeps I said it more.”

  “What?”

  “They said my grin was malice as I spit the words, as if I were looking into an enemy’s cold gaze. I’d say ‘They will be born, they will cross—Xavier you will fall. Shock will rise. You fail, you fool. The time was sealed.’”

  Gwinn furrowed her brow in question. She was aware, more so than Shade, of the ‘faith’ Reveca had been at odds with for ages. She’d read it, and questioned King, a lot.

  She knew the name Xavier. He was a dark God, one who ruled the emotion of Shock. According to King, he was an asshole, but then again, there were only two dark Gods she was aware of that King didn’t think were the devil themselves.