Healing His Soul's Mate (13 page)

“I heard that.”

“I hoped you had.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Rekkus appeared to look straight ahead, not bothered by or interested in those around him, but they both knew he scanned. He listened and he was assessed. He had twelve escape routes already worked out. He did not, however, have any backup as they weren’t giving any time to set it up.

Shade listened to the souls they passed. Some expressed concern and trepidation. Rekkus’ temper was world renowned, as was his strength, but he also received respect for his even-handedness. They couldn’t hide his presence in town, but, thus far, no one other than a teen girl, who thought Cyrus cute, had given the warlock a second look.

As long as the onlookers were filled with fear, curiosity, and, yes, a lot of lust all directed at Rekkus, Cyrus remained hidden in plain sight. The few hostile souls he sensed were young shifters wanting to show their skills, but they weren’t stupid enough to think they could take on the tiger, although they would say they had to their friends later.

Turning down a dark alleyway, Rekkus knocked on a large iron-riveted door. The watchman’s hatch slid open with a loud clang of metal hitting metal. “State your name and business.”

Rekkus growled from deep in the back of his throat, at the end of his patience.

Shade leaned against the wall. “He hates any social civility doesn’t he, Cyrus?”

“It’s gotten worse, the longer he stays at the Wiccan Haus. No one expects him to be anything but gruff, and he meets their expectations.”

The hatch slammed shut as the big door slid open. “Dammit, Rekkus, is it too much for you simply to say Rekkus, it’s Rekkus, instead of scaring the piss out of me?”

“Hamish.” Rekkus gripped the other man’s arm in greeting. “Lock the gate and make sure no one enters until I am gone. I want every single gate to remain closed.”

“Yes, sire.” The guard bowed and talked into a walkie-talkie while closing the gate behind them.

Rekkus didn’t double-check. Hell, Shade doubted it ever crossed his mind his orders wouldn’t be followed, especially by one of his kind. Though the guard had been of the golden streak, he would follow any commands given to him by this man. “You can put your gloves back on. In fact, I recommend doing so. We don’t want to tempt the hags any more than we can.”

They moved through the maze-like area until they reached the dark staircase. A few steps separated them from the open-air courtyard draped with the purple flowers of the weeping violet willow trees that lined the garden and offered ears to the ladies inside. The limbs moved to reveal the opening to the council’s great hall. These trees, though beautiful, could be lethal, and no person could find the great hall without their allowing them to pass.

“As soon as we pass over the threshold, Cyrus, any illusions will disappear. But they should reappear as soon as you emerge again,” Shade informed him.

“If it doesn’t, one of the ancients will have to fix the issue. He can’t leave different than he entered.”

“And Sage’s potion?”

Rekkus threw another vial at Cyrus. “You didn’t think I would come ill-prepared.”

Cyrus took on his usual self and Rekkus marched to the center of the dome-ceilinged room. He knew the drill, had been here often enough. First, as a young boy with his father. Later, as emissary of the Syndicate, and the last time as Cyrus’ bodyguard after the murder of his own family. The man knew this room, these women, and what they expected. It didn’t mean he had to like it.

He stood in the center of the room within the natural-lit circle. Perhaps not the Rowans, but most everyone else would show due respect to the three who governed all the para. Rekkus didn’t. He stood before them flushed with anger, jaw gritted. His presence would be homage enough.

“Greetings, Prince.” One of the three voices or perhaps all three, bounced off walls until it disappeared into the universe. From his position at the side of the room, Shade could not determine where they sat or who spoke.

“Why have you summoned me…now of all times?” Rekkus demanded.

“Why, indeed.” Sarcasm would come from the vampire.

“How fares your wife?” Concern for a shifter’s cubs would come from another shifter.

“She lies unprotected and heavy with child while I play nice with you.” He stood, arms crossed, feet apart in a stance declaring his obstinacy.

“We have very different definitions of nice, young Prince.”

Clenching his fists at his sides, Rekkus said, “Do not call me meaningless titles.”

A collective sigh washed over the room and the three men standing within. If they had hoped time had softened the beast there, they were mistaken. Not something they often admitted to. Shadedor’s powers were useless in this room, much like Cyrus’ charm, but it didn’t take any magick to recognize they had hoped being mated had mellowed the tiger. Being wrong rarely sat well with the council. “It is meaningless because you refuse to add meaning to it.”

“What is she talking about?” Cyrus whispered, tilting his head at just the right angle to keep his voice from traveling. Rekkus had trained him well.

“What does young Cyrus wish to know?” another voice asked. “Come into the light so we can see you better. Five years is but a blink in time to us, but for you it can be an eternity.”

Cyrus hesitated. His life with the Syndicate had been hell. A talent he’d neither wanted nor could deny. His existence always in danger. Perhaps he didn’t want to be in the presence of the three who had made his entire family a target of assassins. “Did you bring me here as a ruse, believing I would have him at my side?” Rekkus demanded.

“You forget who you talk to.” At the rise in pitch of the collective voice, Shade and Cyrus covered their ears. Rekkus didn’t flinch.

“I forget nothing,” the tiger growled.

The air simmered with electricity. Few shifters could break the enchantments of the room to shift. Rekkus’ father had been one of them, and rumor had it one of the elders bore scars to prove it. No one had a doubt Rekkus, whose powers had surpassed his father’s by his teens, could do the very same.

“Sisters, there is no need for this hostility.” Only the fae could calm a group so full of heated anger. “Rekkus, we brought you here as it is seven years to the day since we have last talked with you about taking your rightful place. The tigers are in need of their prime.”

“And I am no one’s king.” His roar shook the walls.

“You are what the Fates have provided and you bear their mark to prove it.”

“I have pledged my life to the protection of Cyrus. Nothing on this earth can break my blood bond.”

“Nor are we asking you to. There is no reason you can’t do your duties from the island. You would need to come to town but twice a year to deal with issues and disputes.”

“The alphas of each streak can maintain their own, but there must be a prime. Many years have gone without one.”

“Nine years have passed since my mother murdered the streak’s prime.” When he stepped forward, thirteen guards stepped from hiding to make their presence known.

Cyrus gripped his shoulder. “Rekkus, you will do no one, least of all Dana or I, any good locked in prison. Don’t let them bait you.”

“Cyrus, you seem to have lost your recklessness.”

True. In times past, Cyrus and Rekkus would each have spurred the other on and laughed while the other got into trouble. Times and murders changed men.

“Perhaps, ladies”—Shade stepped forward feeling the tensions rise again—“we should let this issue pass at present. You have made your request, as was correct, at the seven-year mark. He must be allowed time to think on it and discuss it with his mate.”

As Shade moved to the center of the room, his ability to tell which elder spoke increased. The vampiress’s impatience matched that of Rekkus. “He has known his destiny since the mark appeared.”

Shade placed a hand on Rekkus’ other shoulder in silent warning. “The events leading to both men residing on the island have altered their desires. Rekkus, until the death of his father, was prepared to take his rightful place as prime in due order. We all knew that, but, like the council, he thought it would be years, if not decades.”

“Years have passed.” Silence reigned for a moment. “But you are correct. His mind is occupied with the upcoming birth of his cubs. We can table this for a bit, yet. But not forever.”

“Can you assure us Cyrus’ protection charms will return when he exits your door? His safety, as always, is everyone’s concern,” Shade asked.

“Of course.”

“I’ll consult with my mate, but there is one more thing,” Rekkus said.

A hush came over the room.

Rekkus took a step in their direction. He must, like Shade, have honed in on their location. The thirteen guards tapped their spears on the ground in warning. “The portals,” he growled. “I want them temporarily sealed when Dana goes into labor.”

“How will we be informed when you unlock them?” Even they, with their great combined powers, couldn’t see everything through the fog wall. Rekkus had ensured it.

“I will send someone through when they are to be closed. We will get a message to the same person who will, in turn, inform you.”

Silence fell as Rekkus stood his ground. Most would have argued their case. Rekkus offered his explanation and subsided. He never sugarcoated anything.

“Do you have an idea of who will be sent through?” the shifter asked.

“Cemil. He could use a break, and the birth may overtax him,” Cyrus said.

“Agreed. If you agree to have Shade remain on the island in his absence.” A push from the fae to try and persuade hit them like a wave, but she hissed when it failed.

“Don’t,” Rekkus growled. The tiger could prevent such efforts—and she should not have tried.

“Shade stays on the island,” the vampiress insisted.

Rekkus nodded then, before they could dismiss him, he grabbed Cyrus’ arm and led him over the threshold. Shade stood back. He had his own business to discuss.

“This Dana?” the voice of the vampiress demanded. “What did you learn?”

“She carries three cubs. Two males and a female.”

“Prime.”

He braced himself. “Yes.”

“Can she handle labor?” Concern laced the shifter elder’s voice.

“She has no choice.” In truth, he did not know if she could.

Silence again.

“And you, Shade? Where do you plan to take your mate when this is all done?”

He should have recognized they would be able to pick up on his life change. “She doesn’t know yet, so I’m not sure. I’ll inform you when I know.”

“Leave us,” the fae queen said. “We have other issues to deal with. But our minds are much at ease.”

Shade found Cyrus and Rekkus at the far end of the commons, speaking with a guard. Cyrus, once again with copper locks, bore slight resemblance to his real self.

While Rekkus continued to speak with the other man, Cyrus approached Shade. “What did you tell them?”

“I assured them to follow Rekkus’ instructions, the cubs were strong.”

“And about my family.”

“As I told you before, I am not on the island to report to them on you, only on the cubs, and that is all the information I gave them. I’m not their spy or your enemy.”

“You understand my feeling toward those three lay high on the hostile scale.” Rekkus tapped Cyrus’ shoulder. “Let’s get moving. The longer we stay in one place, the more we open ourselves up to someone discovering who you are.”

As they walked out, Cyrus paused. “So, Shade, what exactly is going on with you and Ashlynn?”

***

Ashlynn woke at sunrise feeling as if her very breath had been ripped from her. Reaching for Shade produced air and a cold pillow. At five, the first time she woke, he had been there, awake and still stroking her back. She’d nuzzled into his side, feeling warm and protected.

Hours later, in the meditation room with her sister, the feeling, though less intense, hadn’t vanished. Dana kept glancing at her grandmother’s watch every two minutes. Ashlynn wondered why she always thought of Granny Mable as Dana’s grandmother, not her own. Perhaps because Dana always went to visit her by herself. Granny never made Ashlynn feel less loved or left out, but neither did she invite her to spend the summer as she did Dana. Or had their mother refused in Ashlynn’s name?

“What time do you expect them to return?” Ashlynn asked, trying to conceal her anxiety.

Dana peered out the window. “Sunset. For months, I wanted space. Now all I want is his arms wrapped around me. It’s like…like someone ripped the air out of me. Sounds crazy, huh?”

She bit back her response, not wanting to play twenty questions with a sister who was looking for a distraction from missing her husband. But if Dana’s feelings matched Ashlynn’s and she was—how had she put it? Oh, yes, mated—what did that mean for Ashlynn? Hell, they had only met a few days ago, and she’d spent half of those thinking the man crazier than the craziest Looney Tune, though no less sexy. They hadn’t even had sex yet, something she planned to remedy as soon as he set foot on the island again. Maybe not so soon, as ravishing him in the hallway might raise an eyebrow or two, but soon after.

He had held her all night long, and, no matter how uncomfortable he must have been, never once had he acted anything but a gentleman. She had brushed against the proof of his sexual attraction to her several times. He’d smiled at her and helped her fall back to sleep. He did reposition himself a few times, but she pretended to be asleep to give him some relief.

So far, she and Dana had discussed her accident, her scarred face, and her disability. Dana asked questions no one else had thought to, like did she have a support system when she returned? Was there another kind of modeling she could do? Did she even like modeling? No one had ever asked her if she liked it or wanted to do it. They’d assumed she would.

She and Dana moved to safer conversations—gossip in the city, a few things Dana had heard about Frank, Dana’s ex-fiancé, and his new lady, until they were left with the elephant in the room or, perhaps more to the point, the tiger. Ashlynn had to give her sister credit for dealing with everything so very well.