True Connection (The Soul Mate Series) (24 page)

             
“So I can use your wolf as a pillow and crash on the floor in front of Mom’s door? No thanks,” I say.

             
“Actually, we can use my couch, or your bed, or I can take the floor in wolf form. Flynn’s crashing by your mom’s door,” he says, puffing his chest proudly.

             
I roll my eyes. “Fine, my room.” I glare. “But stay off my bed.” I don’t need to be worrying about rolling over and having wolf butt in my face, or something else equally gross. I groan, picturing my bedside rug covered with stray Barry fur. I hope it isn’t as bad to clean as cat hair.

             
We go up to my room, I lob the gift bag to my desk lightly, and flop, face down, on my bed.

“You okay?” Barry asks.

              “Yes,” I try to say, although, I’m sure it sounded more like “mwemph.” So I tilt my head to the side and smile. “I’m fine. Goodnight, Barry.”

I roll over, and pull my blanket up to my chin.

Barry sighs before killing the lights. Shortly after, I hear claws click against my floor. His claws go silent when he reaches my rug, and I grimace hearing him get comfortable. Freaking hairy beasts.

I need to thank Barry tomorrow or just not be so negative. He’s protecting me, regardless of how annoying he is, he has my best interest in mind and deserves to be treated better. I push my annoyance out of my head and close my eyes, praying for an easy sleep.

“It was love at first sight.”
Seth’s words replay in my mind.

Doesn’t look like I’ll be sleeping anytime soon.

Bigger Problems

I can’t sleep. The second I close my eyes, my brain takes me back to the bathroom with Derik screaming threats through the door.

Your precious family.

He threatened my family. I can’t lose anyone else. Derik will
not
take a single person from me. I refuse to allow that to happen!

But am I strong enough to stop him?

How do you kill a devux or at least stop one? Would it be easier to give myself to him? Would that stop him from harming everyone I love and care about?

Dammit. If I did that, everyone trying to protect me would feel the pain of loss because of me and for me. My family has been through so much already. And Seth… I can’t think about what it would do to him.

I really miss my dad right now. He was pretty good at knowing what to say to calm me down or help me sleep.

I close my eyes and try forcing the worry, tension, and turmoil out of my body.

              My mind has other plans.

What will happen next time I run into Derik? What if he catches me alone again, like he said would happen? I shudder and tears form in my eyes. No, I cannot think like that. I won’t let him get me.

My eyes pop open just as the room lights up from a lightning strike. Thunder rumbles outside and soon the pattering of raindrops dripping on the window, fill the silence.

I move to the foot of my bed and pull the blinds on my window. Watching the lightning streak through the sky, stirs up a memory of when I was little and afraid of storms. My dad used to tell me that thunderstorms were the result of the Greek Gods’ bowling matches. Thunder was a strike and lightning was a spare. Thunderstorms are meant as a celebration and to be happy, not afraid.

Right now, I feel closer to my dad than I have felt since he passed away. I can almost feel him next to me counting off the scores.

With a smile, I lean against the wall and close my eyes while listening to the sounds of the storm and Barry’s wolfy snores.

Boom.
That’s a strike, Dad.

***

I wake up in my bed with a blinding pain in my side. My mouth tastes like blood, it hurts to breathe, and my back is on fire.

In a panic, I close my eyes and focus on my bond with Seth. When I sense him sleeping, I want to scream with joy. But the pain cuts off any shout or scream I may have. I clutch my pillow and chuck it at the wolf snoring on my floor.

He huffs and sniffs me before growling. I can’t see him, but I hear his claws clicking away from my bed, and I choke out a painful sob. It’s too dark. I don’t want to be alone!

             
My light flicks on and Barry grabs my phone from my nightstand and punches in some numbers.

             
“We’ve got a problem,” he says. “Yea, bring Fionn.” He hangs up and dials another number. He repeats that we have a problem here, but says to send Seth now. He looks me over. “What happened? I didn’t leave your bedside.” He frowns as he sits lightly on the edge of my bed. “I don’t...” He stops himself and looks away.

             
“I just had a dream,” I say painfully. My brow furrows. It was a nightmare, with Derik and some witch with flame red hair.

             
His eyebrows nearly reach his hairline. “You know as well as I do that this wasn’t just a dream.”

             
I wipe the tears from my cheeks and wince when I feel the sting and welt on my cheek. “But, no,” I stutter. “I saw them…” I rasp. “It was a dream.” A dream that has given me broken ribs and a hand-sized welt on my cheek, I would huff if I could. It doesn’t make sense.

             
“It had to have been another attack,” Barry says as my window slides open.

             
“What happened?” Seth asks as he climbs in. He comes over and lifts me into his arms and motions for Barry to follow.

             
I wince with his movements and wish he would’ve just left me lay.

             
Barry tells him what he knows as we head for the stairs.

             
I focus on Seth, ignoring his emotions that are trying to flood me, and I show him a picture of Henry.

             
“Hey Barry, can you run back and get Henry and Skeeter?” Barry nods and goes back to get them. “This is probably going to hurt,” he grimaces. I nod. We have to go down the stairs, I know this. But I’m so tired. All I want to do is just cuddle with Seth and sleep, no more experimenting with a wolf.

             
By the time we reach the bottom of the steps, I’m panting. It wasn’t as bad as I was expecting, but still enough to cause discomfort.

He sits me on the couch and then sits next to me. “I should have stayed tonight,” he says and closes his eyes.

“Stop,” I rasp. I don’t want him feeling guilty. It wasn’t his fault. Hell, we can’t even blame this on Derik. I saw him, them, it wasn’t an attack. I don’t know why I’ve got the same injuries, but there’s got to be a logical explanation.

He opens his eyes and searches my face, eyes resting on my cheek. I bring my hand up to feel for any marks left. It still stings and throbs, even before I touch it.

“I am so sorry.” He reaches over and brushes my hand away. “I will get him for this,” he says vehemently.

I scowl. “It wasn’t an…”

He interrupts me. “Fionn and Fane are on their way,” he says like they hold all the answers. I resist the urge to roll my eyes and just focus on the tingling sensation his touch brings. I close my eyes and try to relax. It’s not the easiest task in the world when you can hardly breathe but Seth’s touch is helping.

Feet thunder down the steps, jolting my eyes open. Henry, Barry, and Skeeter appear in the living room.

Henry is in front of me in a matter of seconds, Barry trailing slightly, and Skeeter, still as a statue at the entryway.

“Are you okay?” Henry asks while grinding his teeth. I nod. He closes his eyes and squeezes my hand. I can tell it was a controlled effort to not squeeze hard. I squeeze back in an effort to let him know he can calm down, but it doesn’t seem to work. He leaves the room and heads for the kitchen with a wide eyed Barry following.

              The front door opens quietly, and Fane, Seth’s parent’s, Skeeter’s grandpa Gregory, and a man I’ve never met walk into my house, all eyes on me.

If I could get up and run, I might just do that.

My heart picks up speed like a galloping horse as the stranger kneels beside me. His eyes darken and his frown deepens as he looks me over. “Reverie,” he growls.

A collective gasp and growls tear through the room. A belated growl from not too far away echoes, I shiver in response, then clutch my side and pant.

              The man shakes his head, Fane storms out of the room, and Luke sends Claire to get some ice and a washcloth. I’d rather have an aspirin or maybe even morphine.

             
“My name is Fionn,
girseach
,” the man says with an Irish accent and starts poking at my ribs. I pinch my tongue between my teeth and dig my nails into Seth’s palm as I focus on the Irish man’s mumbles.

             
What did he call me? What’s a reverie?

             
Fionn pulls a stethoscope from somewhere and listens to my breathing and heartbeat. “No puncture. I’ll jus wrap yer ribs.” My mouth opens with a pop. I’ve had broken ribs before, I do not want to ditch my shirt right now.

             
“Seth, bring her to the bathroom, Skeeter and I will wrap her ribs, if you don’t mind Fionn.” Claire, ice in hand, saves the day.

             
He nods, and walks out to the kitchen. I guess he’s checking on Fane.

Seth moves to pick me up, and I shake my head, I’m not incapable of walking. He helps me stand but doesn’t allow me to walk by myself. Probably for my own good, but it’s still annoying to have him fawning like this. He helps me sit on the edge of the bathtub, and steps out when his mom comes in.

Claire and Skeeter wrap my chest and abdomen. When they’re done, Claire looks at my face, nods to herself, and begins searching through her bag for something as Skeeter helps pull my shirt down.

             
Claire turns, producing a mason jar of a tan colored cream. “I want you to apply this cream to the welt every few hours. A gypsy friend of mine made it. It’ll heal and conceal the welt and bruise. There isn’t much I can do for the lip, just ice it tonight.”

She sets the jar on the sink and helps me stand. When I look in the mirror my eyes focus on the pinkish replica of Derik’s hand, and watch the slap replay in my mind. Tears fill my eyes as I open the jar. The smell hits me and reminds me of the sage rubs when Dad took me to Indian Blessings at the reservation in southern Pennsylvania.

              I apply some to my face, as Claire rambles off some instructions. A little goes a long way, it’s not instant relief, and do not wash it off for at least twenty minutes after applying.

I wonder if it’s only for facial bruising. Would I be able to rub it into a bruise on my shin?

              We exit the bathroom, and find everyone gathered in the kitchen.

I spot Seth staring out the window near the coffee pot, and go to him. I wrap my arms around his waist, and he lifts his hands from the counter to grip mine. I peek around him and look out the window, the sky is clear again and the stars are visible, like twinkling lights winking down at us.

              I loosen my grip on his waist and slink around to his front. “That dream,”

             
“Attack,” he interrupts.

             
I nod. “I couldn’t feel you,” I whisper. “Our bond was like, cut off. I tried a few times.” I wince, remembering the numbing pain and ice that ran through my veins. “It was like you were gone,” I whisper and press my tear-filled face into his chest.

He lightly squeezes me and plays with a few strands of hair that fell from my messy bun. “I’m right here,” he says into my hair, and I squeeze his waist.

              I hear the sliding glass door open gently. “Avan will be here momentarily,” Fionn announces. Barry, Fane, and a tired Henry follow Fionn into the kitchen.

             
“Who is Avan?” I whisper to Seth, glad to have a distraction from the mess in my head.

             
Seth ignores my question and asks one of his own. “Why would Avan help us? He doesn’t know Jaz.”

             
“Rhenata,” Fane answers.

             
One name. That’s this Avan guy’s reason for helping us. Rhenata. Who is she?

             
My brow furrows in confusion. I glance up to Seth, and take in his shocked expression. He’s heard the name before.

             
“Are you sure?” Luke asks.

             
“She’s left her mark,” Fane shrugs.

             
“What mark?” Claire demands as she stands over me, inspecting my skin.

             
“A scent,” Fionn says, looking out the glass door.

             
Silence blankets the room. I look up to Seth, and he looks down at me with a pained expression.

             
“Seth?” I whisper and touch my hand to his cheek.

             
“I…” he starts.

             
“Did you see Rhenata in the reverie?” Claire asks. Seth groans and closes his eyes.

             
I frown. “Who is Rhenata?”

             
“The unwanted-redheaded-demon-bitch,” Barry spits out, and Skeeter flings a cork coaster at his head.

             
“She was Avan’s sister,” she says. “But she had a run-in with some devuxen…”

             
“They turned her, and she chose it,” Fionn says, still not taking his eyes away from the lake.

             
“How did she mark me? Why would I have seen her? I don’t know her,” I stammer in my confusion.

             
“She had to have been present in the reverie,” Claire says.

             
“So she’s the one who…” I trail off. I don’t say how she tossed me against the door, how she hit me while being across the room, or how Derik seemed to be able to control her to an extent.

             
Seth stiffens beside me. I don’t look at him or seek out the bond. I know he picked up those thoughts.

             
“We picked up her mark, because she used to be a Sorceress,” Fane says. “She and Avan were a powerful duo. When he met his lifemate, Rhenata went off the grid. When she surfaced, she was into dark dealings, and when Avan got to her, she was already turned.”

             
I swallow. Avan is a Sorcerer. Rhenata, the evil woman from that attack, the one who wants to make me part of her “family,” is a devux and sorceress.