Authors: Desconhecido(a)
The sound of heavy boots on
the steps outside jerked her to her feet, her hands automatically finding the
weapons inside her cloak. The demon glared at her, his eyebrows pulled together
in a fierce frown of warning. The door opened and for a moment, all Tait could
see was the dark outline of a man filling the doorway. Behind him, stood
another man.
The first man advanced into
the shop without hesitation, and the door swung closed behind him as his
companion waited outside. He strode across the room toward the demon, and
Tait’s heart stopped for a full two seconds before it went into overdrive.
Shock reverberated from her brain down into her body.
Pain she’d held close to her soul for six
years exploded into joy at the knowledge the man she’d thought dead still
lived, and apparently thrived.
Dark hair, longer than
regulation, waved to his shoulders.
The
cut of his uniform showed off his long legs and striking physique. Golden bars
on his sleeves proclaimed his rank as Major. But Tait already knew that. She’d
once known everything about Major Marcus ‘Ren’ Renniger. What she hadn’t known
was that he’d survived the ambush on his unit six years ago. However, now that
she knew he was alive and that he’d been the person named Vengeance who bid
against her, she knew why he'd used that name.
Her hands clenched inside the
folds of the cloak. The urge to melt into the shadows nearly crippled her. If
not for the heartstone, she would have. She didn’t want Marcus to ever see her
as she was now, but the stone called to her. She had to try to buy it from him
despite the hatred he must now bear her.
Halfway to the desk where the
demon stood with a velvet bag in his hands, Marcus stopped. Tait didn’t know
what had clued him in as to her presence but Pythian warriors, especially those
of the Elite, had skills and senses far above ordinary soldiers, and the man
before her was the best of the best.
As he slowly turned to face
her, she knew his awareness of her presence was personal. He didn’t just
realize that someone stood there. He knew exactly who she was. Of course, the
fact that they’d been lovers for five years, and comrades in arms for eight,
probably gave him a heightened awareness of her despite the Alizar cloak that
hid her from his hawk-like gaze.
“Are you here to finish the
job?” he asked harshly.
A tremor went through her. He believed she’d betrayed
him. Not that she could blame him. The evidence had been damning, just the way
the real betrayer had intended. And apparently Marcus had not discovered the
truth since his return. She licked her dry lips, fighting to control her
shaking as well as her emotions and the physical response she had to his
presence.
“I’m here to buy the stone
from you.” Her voice sounded raspy and weak to her own ears.
A bark of caustic laughter
escaped him. “You’re the other buyer? The one called No One?” His steel-colored
eyes flickered, their expression derisive.
“Yes.” She marshaled her
thoughts and thrust her emotions aside, mentally locking them away as if she
were going into battle, which in a sense she was. “I’m prepared to pay whatever
you want for it, Marcus.”
Rage flared in his grey eyes
as she spoke his name. “What if I want the last six years of my life back,
Tait?”
She knew then that she could
not win. The stone was lost to her. He had as much right to it as she had,
therefore she would never be able to call the stone to her. It held as much of
his magic as it held of hers so it would never leave him once he took
possession of it. White-hot pain lanced through her, and she threw caution to
the winds.
“At least you have a future!
You can live and love, finish out your career, retire in comfort and have a
family!” Her voice rose slightly as her emotions began to wriggle free of her
control. “I have nothing but memories and that heart. You don’t need it,
Marcus. You have a life. That heart is all I have left!”
His eyes darkened and his
lips curled into a snarl. “You’re the one who threw it all away, Tait. I have
no sympathy for you. The heart is mine. Go back to the hole you crawled out of
and know that now, you have
nothing
left!”
He turned away from her and
strode to the desk, flashing his ID to the demon who eyed him carefully and
then handed over the velvet bag. Marcus spun around and headed to the door, his
steely gaze flicking over Tait as she stood rooted in place, draped in the
folds of the Alizar cloak, shaking with emotion at the cruelty of his words.
“I thought I wanted
vengeance. I survived for six long years as a prisoner of war because all I
could think of was how you betrayed me and how much I wanted to kill you for
it.” His harsh words lashed her already abraded heart. “Seeing you now, I’m
glad I never had the opportunity to throw away my life by taking yours.”
The pain exploding within her
splintered her caution. “What life? I’m dead, Marcus. I’m surprised you didn’t
know that. Captain Tait Boland died because the only man she ever loved was
killed in action.” A rusty laugh escaped her. “Even if you wanted me, you
couldn’t have me. I don’t exist anymore. I am No One.”
His expression hardened but
he didn’t say another word as he turned away from her. Anger began to filter
through her pain.
“Vengeance was mine,” she
told him boldly in a voice husky with emotion. “My hand took the life of the
person who betrayed you, and despite the fact that it cost me my own life, I
would do it again. Without you, I had no life anyway. There is nothing you
could ever do to me that would be as bad as losing you was.”
He glanced back over his
shoulder, his hard gaze raking over her, his mouth set in grim lines. She
realized then that he looked nothing like the man she’d loved so deeply and
lost. Uncharacteristic tears burned her eyes for a moment, and her throat
ached. She touched it briefly with one shaking hand, but when his eyes
narrowed, following the movement of her tremor racked, scarred fingers, she
thrust it down into the Alizar cloak, out of sight. The urge to run from him,
to get away from his cold, steely gaze, rose like panic within her.
When he shook his head
dismissively and jerked the door open, she broke.
“You’re welcome to my half of
the heartstone. My heart always belonged to you anyway. Have a good life,
Marcus,” she whispered, her tone agonized.
He whirled around, eyes
blazing, but she used his movement against him, slipping past him as she bolted
through the door. She nearly careened into the man standing outside.
“Get out of my way, Branson!”
she hissed at Marcus’s best friend and second in command.
Shocked, Captain Branson
Gaines stepped back as he obviously recognized her voice. She spared him a
brief glance then raced down the road to the portal. She didn’t know if they
followed her and didn’t have time to check. She needed to get away from them
before she lost what little was left of her soul. The portal appeared in front
of her and she swiftly stepped inside, her magic powering up instantly. She
closed her eyes, unwilling to check if she’d been followed, and let the portal
take her effortlessly to the slum she now called home.
Once she had determined that
she’d not been followed, she made her way to the dark little house where she
lived deep in Estep Realm, squirreled away in the bowels of the Hawksmoor
slums.
With the door both physically
locked as well as spell-locked, she threw off the Alizar cape and went into the
tiny bathroom. She carefully washed her face and hands. Drying herself on a towel,
she stared into the cracked and age-spotted mirror.
Fine lines fractured her
beautiful face and skin, scars from the torture she’d endured. On her neck, the
skin seemed melted, a memento of the fire that had ensured her escape from
prison. Her once gorgeous strawberry blonde hair hung in lank, frost white
strands, bleached by pain and the horrors she’d endured.
Scarred in mind and body, she
crept to her bed and lay there, dry eyed and unable to weep for the loss of her
love, her career, and her life. Bleak acceptance of her fate swept over her as
she acknowledged the stone and all it represented was as lost to her as every
other facet of her former life, including Marcus. She didn’t know why she’d
even wanted the damn thing now. It wouldn’t have brought her anything but
painful memories that she was better off without.
Her eyes closed, and
unbidden, Marcus’s broad shouldered form appeared. Tears didn’t come, but the
lump in her throat returned, aching and threatening her breathing. She couldn’t
change the past. And knowing what she knew now, she still wouldn’t have done
anything differently. Brigadier General Nels Price had sent Marcus, Bran and
the rest of the Pythian Elite expeditionary unit to their deaths. The fact that
they'd survived didn’t change anything. Even if Tait had known Marcus was
alive, she would still have walked into Price’s office and taken his life. He
deserved to be executed for his crimes. Based on the Elite’s laws and strict
code of honor, as the sole survivor of the unit by virtue of the fact that
she’d not been with them, Tait had every right to be Price’s executioner.
Shifting beneath the thin
blanket, Tait curled into herself. Marcus had the heart. His piece and hers.
Not that it mattered, she thought wearily. She’d spoken the truth when she’d
told him he'd always had her heart. The real one and the part of her soul she’d
magicked into the heartstone, writing the runes with her fingertip and
incantations. Funny how she could still feel pain despite being dead inside.
As an exhausted sleep claimed
her, she wondered if Marcus would bother to find out the truth. He could if he
wanted to. It wouldn’t change anything though. No amount of magic in the
universe could give her back what had been taken from her. You couldn’t buy or
magick a future.