Sweet Ruin (54 page)

Rune hurriedly worked to redirect the protections on this property to ward away Vertas creatures.

His mate was staying.

Josephine had launched an attack on Val Hall, and then the Møriør had destroyed it; this proximity to Nïx’s army put Rune on edge.

From his spot outside the manor, he could see inside Josephine’s new room. Thad was helping her get settled. She’d just returned from her apartment, carrying a small bag of clothes.

Rune had worried she was building up her reunion with her brother too much, that she was sure to be disappointed.

By the end of the night, Thad had all but begged Josephine to stay.

He was her number one. She seemed to be glowing with contentment as they cracked jokes.

Even recounting her memories of Apparitia hadn’t hampered the siblings’ happiness to have found each other.

Her tale had floored Rune. The two of them had barely escaped their home world—and only because of their mother’s sacrifice. Then, floating in the ether, they’d seen behind the curtains of the universe.

Eventually, they’d gone into stasis—as the Møriør did. But that didn’t negate their age.

Apparitia had died
thousands
of years ago. Josephine must be the oldest living of their hybrid species.

The primordial.

She’d told of a planet imploding? Of her screaming “worldend.” Some in the Elserealms whispered
Orion
had destroyed Apparitia. Had Rune’s liege obliterated it like a glass sphere? While Rune’s terrified mate had fought to catch a newborn babe in the winds?

Rune had seldom questioned what his liege did, believing Orion had cause for all his actions. Now his first instinct was to confront Orion. But if the Undoing had targeted Apparitia, it must have been for a reason. What if he’d planned to assassinate two hybrid children?

If Rune alerted him, Orion might finish what he’d started. . . .

Josephine laughed and tossed a pillow at Thad. He caught it telekinetically and sent it right back at her.

Where did this night leave Rune? Was he to interrupt this bonding when all her dreams were coming true?

That mortal woman had described Josephine sobbing at the window as she’d given up Thad. Now Josephine had been embraced by this family. No longer was she gazing in from the outside.
Rune
was.

He burned to talk to her, to be with her. But she’d given Thad a week; shouldn’t Rune give her the same? He told himself seven days was nothing in an immortal’s life—even as he dreaded the prospect.

Yet that didn’t mean he’d leave his mate and his brother here unprotected. Rune would take up residence in the carriage house by the pool, scent-and soundproofing it. From there he could watch over this family, contemplate what to do about Orion, and allow Josephine’s temper to cool.

Unless she called for him, or wondered where he was. Or needed him for blood. Otherwise . . .

I’ll give you one week, little mate.

SEVENTY-ONE

J
o lay in bed, head on her pillow, staring at the talisman on her nightstand.

Sleeping in this big bed without a towering dark fey still felt weird, even after so many days had passed.

At first, the excitement of seeing Thad—and her efforts to live in this household—had overshadowed her grief from losing Rune. She was still psyched to be with her brother, but now she pined for her ex.

Her first day here, Thad had gotten a call from Regin, detailing what had happened at Val Hall after he and Jo had vanished.

Jo had been blown away. Apparently so had Val Hall, thanks to a primordial werewolf.

And Rune had defeated the Scourge. “Somehow your archer scored a phoenix feather!” Thad had excitedly told her. “He used it for the flights on an arrow and shot the wraiths to kingdom come.”

With a surge of nausea, Jo had realized the feather was the key he’d earned from Meliai in exchange for great sex.

Then Rune had threatened Nïx and all her immortals, the “Vertas MVPs” as Thad called them. But in the end, Rune had made a vow never to kill Nïx—so he could neutralize
Jo’s
vow.

He’d done that in front of his allies. For her. . . .

Thad had also told Jo he wanted to help Regin and the others rebuild Val Hall, explaining, “The Vertas is more than just Nïx. Besides, she isn’t even there. She told everyone she was taking a vacation for a while.”

Jo had tried to make light. “Vertas, Møriør. Hey, let’s let the freaks work this out in the schoolyard on their own.”

“Regin and the others didn’t know you’re my sister. Nïx told them you’re a hardcore Møriør here to unleash monsters and enslave us all.”

Nïx, you bitch, that’s how rumors get started.
Then Jo had frowned.
I did have strong Møriør leanings.

Because I fell in love with one.

After that day, she and Thad never talked about Rune specifically. She tried to hide how badly she yearned for the dark fey, but didn’t know if she was fooling anyone.

Rune had once told her Darach Lyka could find anything in the worlds; Thad hadn’t traced Jo too far from Val Hall. Rune had to know where she was. She’d thought nothing could keep a Lorean from his mate, yet he’d never contacted her.

She figured he must have returned to Tenebrous with the other Møriør. Even if he’d headed back to Earth directly, the journey would take a while.

Not that she would ever resume things with him. But it would be nice to return his talisman, get her bullet necklace back, and find some closure.

Was closure possible between mates?

Anything is possible in the Lore!
she thought bitterly.

Hanging out with her brother was the only thing that could have kept her distracted. Over the last week, she and Thad had laughed. They’d watched movies. They’d swum. Jo had demonstrated how to ghost into shells and go fully invisible.

Soon she would show him how to delineate one’s territory and protect it—and how to crush fight-stealing pimps.

If Jo had been a feral cat at the beginning of the week, the Braydens might have domesticated her a scoch. For Thad, Jo had been making the effort to get along.

The first day, he’d awakened her abruptly. “JOOOO!” he’d yelled from downstairs. “Breakfast is ready!”

She’d shot upright in bed, disoriented because she’d never had a wakeup call before and had barely slept. She’d dreaded dreams of Rune, hadn’t wanted to see any more of his past when she couldn’t handle his present.

Bleary-eyed, she’d gotten dressed, snagged the talisman she’d set on the nightstand, then stomped downstairs into the kitchen. “What the fuck is this,
Private Benjamin
?”

Gram had been there along with MizB and Thad. Oops.

MizB had told the woman, “Ma, I want you to meet—”

Gram had already shuffled over to Jo. Before Jo could hiss, the woman had kissed her forehead. “Hello, child.” Then she’d shuffled back to the stove, all no-big-deal.

Over breakfast, MizB had asked if they had any plans.

Jo had rocked her chair back, balancing on two legs. “I was thinking about teaching ole Thad here how to roll drug dealers for coke-dusted cash. Maybe pummel some pimps. Don’t they give Eagle Scout badges for shit like that?”

MizB had swallowed helplessly.

Hey, she’d invited Jo here.
Let the right one in, MizB.

The woman had asked them to take out the freaking garbage first, then had the nerve to call, “Make good choices. . . .”

Day two, Gram had implemented a cuss jar. She’d tapped it while giving Jo a speaking glance.

Seriously?

When Jo brought over more clothes, MizB had mended all of them, even the ones that were supposed to be ripped. But Jo had bitten her tongue.

Both MizB and Gram continued to cook, MizB “just in case,” so Jo pushed food around a plate when the family sat down for meals. She helped with dishes she’d never needed in the first place, wishing she had a rune for the chore.

Atop the mantel were two new framed pictures of Jo and Thad. Jo liked them because both had her giving the camera the bird, with her lips poised to say “Fuck off.”

She went to bed at four, and never missed breakfast.

It isn’t so bad here.
She stared at Rune’s talisman, sleep overtaking her.
Except for missing him. . . .

At last, the week had come to a close.

As Rune had done each day, he traced from the carriage house into Josephine’s room the moment she’d drifted off. But this time, he would remain until she woke.

The late night sky was thick with black clouds and thunder rumbled, but she slumbered on.

Sound sleeping was a vulnerability. He’d meant to help break her of that, but then he’d realized he’d always be there to watch over her.

He did so now, pulling up a chair beside her bed. He picked up the talisman from her bedstand, turning it in his hand over and over as his gaze lingered on her features. Her thick lashes, her finely-boned face. The gentle bow of her lips. The mouth that spoke so candidly and pressed against his flesh so ardently.

Though only seven days separated them and he’d always been close, Rune had missed her till his mind was wrong and his chest constantly pained him.

As Josephine had done as a ghost, he’d haunted the Braydens’ home. No one from the Vertas had disturbed them. In fact, only one Lorean had tried to visit—Natalya, the dark fey.

Josephine likely wouldn’t have welcomed her, so he’d traced to intercept the female.

Natalya was definitely of his species, with her plum-colored eyes, black claws, and the telltale pointed ears. She’d been yanking on a cap when he’d stopped her.

She’d raked her gaze over him. “You’re the dark fey everyone’s talking about, an assassin like me. Rune, right? I’m Natalya.” Another long look. “Where have you been all my life, gorgeous?”

In the past, he would’ve deemed this female heavens-sent for him—before Josephine had claimed his heart, his mind, his body, his fucking dreams.

When Natalya had propositioned him—“A little secret between two banebloods”—he’d simply said, “Josephine is everything.”

At that, Natalya had stopped eye-fucking him, and they’d spoken about the few others of their kind they’d met. She suspected he was the oldest living of them all. Not the firstborn, but still the oldest.

Was that why Orion had sought him out so long ago? Perhaps his liege hadn’t thought Rune
less
because he was a halfling; perhaps Orion considered dark fey to be a species unto themselves.

With Rune as their primordial.

The idea had shocked him, but he’d still managed to talk up Thad, emphasizing how powerful the young man was becoming. Once fully transitioned, Rune had assured Natalya, Thad could withstand
any
poison. . . .

Rune was glad to have gotten that meeting out of the way. With an unknown out there, he never would’ve been able to convince Josephine he was hers alone.

Soon his mate would feel confident in him. Soon she would wake to find him here, and he was . . . nervous.

She hadn’t spoken about him, and he still couldn’t fathom what he’d say to her. When he needed his silver tongue most, it’d deserted him.

How to express his regret for the past? How could he tell her his hopes for the future when he didn’t know what that future would entail?
My liege might have murdered your mother, your entire world.
Rune had come no closer to a decision regarding Orion and Apparitia.

She turned on her back, her hair tumbling over her pillow.

Her scent soothed his uneasiness, until it was replaced with a weary relaxation. He hadn’t slept in eight or nine days.

Outside, the night darkened even more, but the room was warm and comfortable. Gods, he’d give his bow hand to be able to sleep next to her once again.

He watched the rise and fall of her chest and imagined lying with her in his glen as a breeze washed over them.

His lids grew heavier, and he leaned an elbow on the edge of the bed.

Even a Møriør needed to rest once in a while. Maybe he’d close his eyes for ten minutes. . . .