Authors: A. C. Arthur
Eli nodded. He slid a finger along the length of the box and down the sides, all the while his senses going into overdrive at how strong the rogue scent was at this moment.
“I’ll take it with me,” he said finally, lifting the box and moving over to the desk to act like he was looking at other mail that had accumulated.
“Heard that guy that was in here died at the hospital,” Malik said and Eli’s head shot up to look at him.
“Somebody else killed him there,” he stated coolly.
Malik nodded. “Long as the deed got done,” was his reply. “You pull a knife on a man, you better be prepared to kill or be killed. That’s what my pops told me before he split.”
The last was said with a careless chuckle that Eli suspected held more emotion than anything the man had ever said to him before. A few minutes later Eli and Malik had walked out to the front of the shop again and he’d bid him farewell, telling Malik how proud he was of his progress.
For the next few hours Eli had driven around town, that box sitting in the passenger seat of his SUV. Finally, he’d pulled to the side of I-66 in the building rush-hour traffic and opened the box.
His chest constricted, his fingers tightening on the box as he stared down at its contents.
“Fuck!” he yelled in the interior of the car.
* * *
Later that evening, Eli sat at the table behind the one that Rome, Kalina, Nick, Ary, X, and Caprise occupied. He and Ezra sometimes sat at the table with them, but tonight Ezra and Dawn had gone out to dinner and Eli had no desire to feel like the odd man out. He hadn’t wanted to consider why he gave a damn about that either.
“Let’s go for a walk,” he heard a voice behind him say.
He knew that voice, just as he knew how being alone with her would turn out. Considering the way his afternoon had gone, that probably wasn’t the best idea.
“No, thanks,” was his chilly reply.
She didn’t speak for a second or so but she didn’t leave either.
“So, what, I’ll see you if I come to your room tonight and then you’ll leave before I wake up in the morning?” Nivea inquired, her tone as chilly as his had just been.
“Don’t do this, Cannon. Not right now.” If he’d been thinking straight Eli would have known immediately that wasn’t the right thing to say to her.
She came around to the other side of him, standing so close Eli had no choice but to stare up at her. She wore pants that looked like the ones she did her training in and a white T-shirt that was long enough to cover the majority of her curves but just sheer enough to give a good indication that there was much more to see. His teeth clenched so hard they ached.
“Don’t do what, exactly? Call you out on how ridiculous you’re acting?”
“No,” he replied slowly. “Don’t make a scene. There’s a good reason I do not want to go for a walk right now and if you’d just relax and move on I can continue trying to figure out how I plan on dealing with it.”
“What happened?” she asked immediately. “Is it the rogues? Did you find him?”
Eli’s eyes narrowed.
“Did I find who?”
Nivea didn’t reply. In fact, her lips had clamped closed so tightly they thinned and Eli was instantly concerned.
“Who do you think I should be looking for, Nivea?”
She shook her head. “Nobody. I mean, I know that Rome questioned my father today and I thought maybe he’d given you a name of someone to look out for.”
She wasn’t being completely truthful with him, Eli could tell by the way her shoulders tensed, her scent wavering between that of a lie and then of anxiety.
“Do you know who your father was working with? Is there someone else we should have in custody?”
She’d been shaking her head before his question could be completed.
“No. I was just wondering.”
It was more likely she was just lying, but Eli truly did not think he could deal with her tonight. He couldn’t take her somewhere private where he could ask the questions he wanted and possibly get the answers, or get a lot of pleasure from being alone with her instead.
“Well, stop wondering. And in answer to your question, you do not have to come to my room tonight.” Eli stood and walked away from her, feeling her angry glare against his back in sharp painful pricks. He’d hurt her and he hadn’t meant to. Yet, he’d known he eventually would.
Damn his dysfunctional makeup and all the bullshit he’d allowed into his life that made him more fucked up. With purposeful strides he walked out of the dining hall, intent on locking himself in his room until he could figure out what the hell was going on and how to stop it before everyone he cared about ended up a victim.
Before he’d even realized it, Eli had slammed into Baxter. The older man moved throughout Havenway with such quiet accuracy it was never really a surprise to see where he’d turn up. Except Eli hadn’t been expecting to see him, or rather, bump into him right at this moment. His intention had been to get far away from people for a while, but it seemed as if that was not going to happen.
Baxter’s weathered hands reached up to Eli’s shoulders, just as Eli mumbled, “Pardon me.”
“No pardon necessary,” Baxter said, his voice slow, steady, and wise.
Baxter had been with Rome’s family since before he was born. Just a few months ago they’d all learned that the butler’s service to the Shadow Shifters went well beyond cleaning up their houses and washing their dirty clothes. Baxter was an Overseer. His job, as a human, was to watch, to teach, to preserve the legacy of the Shadow Shifters. He was the only human Overseer and had worked very closely with Elder Alamar as the Stateside Assembly had been constructed.
For that reason, and because Eli had been brought up to do nothing less, he’d always afforded Baxter a great amount of respect.
“I was actually looking for you,” Baxter continued.
Eli took a step back, not only feeling leery at Baxter’s words, but also uncomfortable by the way the man was looking at him.
“Is this about Rome? Is something wrong?” Eli asked, his muscles already tensing.
“Relax, shifter. I know that we are all a bit on edge these days. But what I have to say I think will bring some relief to you.”
To the contrary, his cryptic words had Eli’s jaw clenching so hard he could have cracked a tooth. “What is it?” he asked without further preamble.
“I know what happened to you and your brother in Sierra Leone,” Baxter began.
Eli sighed, truly sick of thinking and hearing about this subject. “Look, I don’t have time for this,” he said. “I’m busy right now. Please excuse me.” Eli turned to walk away before Baxter could reply, only to be stopped by the man’s hand on his arm.
“You need to listen to what I have to tell you, son.”
Eli looked down at Baxter’s hand, then back up at the older man. “I’m not your son.”
Baxter released his hold on Eli, giving a slight nod of his head as he pushed his wire-framed glasses up higher on his nose.
“In some ways that is exactly what you are now,” Baxter replied.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“It starts in your temples,” Baxter began. “The pain from seeing so much in so short an amount of time. It bothers you, I know because I’ve watched you in the meetings. You don’t want to believe it, cannot think that you have changed. But at the same time you cannot deny what you are experiencing.”
Eli shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But as if on command, his temples had begun to throb the moment Baxter spoke of them. At his sides his hands clenched as if that action could dispute the pain somehow.
“Your brother’s reaction to the damiana-laced shaman’s treatment has been different than yours. His mate’s DNA contributed to his healing from the poison. Once he completely embraced her, he was able to fully take hold of the powerful shifter that he had become.”
“I’m. Not. Ezra,” Eli told him through gritted teeth.
He was angry with Baxter, but didn’t actually know why. Sure, the man had halted his search for solitude but there was something else, something that had Eli’s heart beating rapidly.
“Your reaction to the smoke has only started the inevitable.”
Eli did not respond this time. He was almost afraid to. Not wanting to hear what the man was going to say next, while at the same time, on some distant level, already knowing exactly what his words would be.
“They’ve already begun, Eli,” Baxter continued, clasping his hands in front of him.
The man spoke with an air of old wisdom so much that sometimes Eli thought he should be wearing a long belted robe, like most of the Elders did, instead of regular everyday clothes like the rest of them.
“With all due respect, Baxter,” Eli began, then stopped as the man only nodded at him.
“You have seen the visions. They’ve come while you are awake as well as when you are asleep. They are of the past and of the future, sometimes of the right now. You wonder how or why, but think if you do not speak of it, they will cease to exist.” The older man shook his head.
“You are wrong. The visions will get stronger, clearer. They will come more frequently and eventually at your command. Your senses will return to one hundred percent, possibly even stronger. That is how it is for Seers.”
Eli listened to his every word, felt something warm spreading throughout his body, a familiar sense of knowing and still replied, “I am not a Seer. I am too young to be one and there is no lineage throughout my family.”
“You are correct,” Baxter told him. “You are very young to come into your power. It usually does not present itself until forty or forty-five years into a shifter’s life. You can thank the damiana in that shaman’s smoke for bringing it to the surface so soon. As for the family lineage, the bloodlines have been so diluted after the tribes began to migrate from the Gungi, there is no perfect familial trace on the Seer power now.”
“No,” Eli said, shaking his head and closing his eyes. Lifting his hands he cupped them to his ears. It was foolish he knew, but what else could he do? He couldn’t take anymore. Not one more goddamned thing. From Acacia and all the drama and death that followed, to Leanne and her tragic end, and now Nivea and the problems the shifters as a whole were facing. Eli felt like he was on an emotional roller coaster and about to explode with anger at any moment.
Then Baxter touched Eli’s right hand with his left, placing his full palm over the guard’s with a touch that was both warm and light. The pain vibrating from Eli’s temples down to his shoulders and resting in the pit of his stomach ceased, a shiver moving down his spine.
“You know this to be true. It is the answer that you have both sought and struggled with. Your time in Sierra Leone changed you. How you decide to embrace your destiny is the only thing in your control. You are a Seer; that will not go away. To fight against it or continue to deny it is futile. It is who you are.”
“Stop it,” Eli whispered, his legs going weak beneath him. “Just stop it.”
Baxter removed his hand from Eli’s. He took a step back and walked away. Eli watched him go, wishing he had never come and spoken to him. He saw the older man walking slowly down the hall until he turned the corner, leaving only the scent of knowledge and despair in his wake. Eli inhaled the scent deeply, the man’s words replaying in his mind, just as he realized he’d watched Baxter’s departure through closed eyes.
More than a week had passed since Eli had been to the hospital room where Rimas died, and less time than that since he’d visited his barbershop and received the gift that was left for him. Today was finally the day.
He braced his hands on the bathroom sink, letting his head fall as he tried to center his thoughts. Nivea was sleeping in his bed, an even bigger part of her stretching alongside his cat, living and breathing inside of him. After a couple days of her going to her own room at night and keeping her distance throughout the day, he’d had enough. Last night he’d gone to her.
She’d been in the training center practicing with Caprise, or at least he’d thought the two females were practicing. Thinking back on it now they’d appeared to be doing more talking than actual training. But he hadn’t paid much attention to that at the time. All he could think about was how badly he’d wanted her in his bed, his arms, beneath him, on top of him. Damn, he just needed her.
“Well, if it isn’t the long-lost twin,” Caprise greeted him as he’d approached.
She’d taken to calling both him and Ezra
twin,
only distinguishing by which one she was looking at during that time. Eli mostly let it slide because he’d never had a younger sister before, and especially not one who liked to believe she could take him on the training field.
“Does your mate know you’re in here at this time of night?” had been his sarcastic comeback.
Caprise hadn’t batted an eye, but delivered her immediate retort. “That depends if yours knows how moody an asshole you can be. Oh, wait, let me ask Nivea since she’s right here.”
Eli’s lips clenched as he moved between the two females, his back facing Caprise. He looked at Nivea just as she was adjusting the band holding her hair back from her face.
“We need to talk,” he said. “Now.”
She arched a brow and let her hands fall to the bare skin of her hips. Those damned training pants were riding so low he could see the tip of her hip bone, the sweet indentation of her navel, and the diamond dangling from the ring she had there.
“I’m training,” she replied.
“Take a break,” he answered, knowing that what he wanted to do to her would take much longer than a break.
“She can’t, unless her trainer says so,” Caprise chimed in from behind. “Or her mate. I don’t know, which one are you, Eli?”
“Please,” he’d said through clenched teeth, wanting to throttle Caprise and then pick Nivea up and toss her over his shoulder. He’d carry her into his room and have his way with her and this burning need that had been growing steadily in the pit of his stomach would go away once and for all.
She looked like she was going to deny him until he stepped closer. Eli could feel it, like a blanket covering him, the reach of her cat calling out to his. Nivea opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut because she knew, just as he did, that refusing would be futile.