Waking Eden (The Eden Series Book 3) (19 page)

Chapter 22

S
erena stifled
a yawn and started over on the same paragraph for the third time. Praise The Great One, scholars made for dry delivery. The damned history book she’d pilfered from her father’s library was over a thousand pages long. How many different ways could they drive home the fact that their mother tongue was dead, dead, dead?

A loud thud and the clash of something tinny on marble sounded from the foyer. Shouts of concern and heavy footsteps clipped toward the sound.

Great, another accident. The sixth or seventh she’d inadvertently caused today. Her father had stormed into her suite after the second and insisted she get a grip on whatever angst had her influential skills spinning out of control.

Thank The Great One he never set foot in their home midday. Otherwise he’d be forcing the sedative he’d threatened her with down her throat.

She tuned out the chaos from the hall beyond.

With the more accelerated growth of the human race and the inclination of Myrens to fluently interact with their sister inhabitants, the original language for our species began to rapidly wither around one thousand years after the earliest Myren recordings. More scholarly and language-conscious intellectuals assumed knowledge of other tongues, but the predominant language naturally adopted was English. Given the limited means for recording important records at such a primitive time, few original texts remain. Those available in a consumable format are translations of the originals and prone to incorrect interpretation or error.

Lovely. A fancy way of saying even if she found a translation, she may not end up with more than she knew right now.

She slammed the book closed. Where in histus was Angus, anyway? He should have been here an hour ago.

The door behind her swished open.

Serena stood and spun.

Their butler blocked the doorway, his scraggly salt and pepper hair slicked back in a tight queue.

With a flick of her hand, she opened the doors the rest of the way and cut the servant off before he could utter a word. Behind him, Angus stood in his stiff white, unadorned council robes. “I’ve got this, Otter. Have refreshments sent for my guest.”

Angus shuffled into the room and smirked as Otter closed the door behind him. His hands were crossed at his stomach, and the way the sleeves covered them made him look like a well-dressed human monk. “Home confinement not agreeing with you, Serena?”

Don’t react. Stay calm. Bury the emotion.

She’d already burned one of the four days Uther had given her. Finding another source would be next to impossible. “You never truly appreciate something until it’s gone. I suppose you and I are somewhat alike on that score.”

A suck-up and a reminder at the same time. Eryx might have lopped off her freedom, but he’d demolished Angus’ lifelong political career in less than five minutes. All because Angus had dared to act in the malran’s stead while Eryx searched for Lexi.

“Indeed.” Angus frowned and tottered deeper into the room, studying the room’s details. “A most ornate home. Reminds me of the humans’ peacock, all show with little purpose.”

Not a surprising reaction considering the man’s upbringing. The room was ornate indeed—lush lavender and plum furnishings, fine crystal and china accents, and dove gray, handmade rugs. Unlike her, Angus had earned everything from the ground up, scraping for every ornamentation and honor. Now he was little more than a figurehead.

“Thyrus tells me you’re in need of some of our most ancient texts.” Angus eased into one of the more comfortable chairs facing the door. “Care to tell me why?”

“Don’t play coy. I’ve no doubt Thyrus already told you.” She picked up the book she’d been studying and settled beside him, laying the large tome so he could see it better. “I’m researching the prophecy. Looking for clues that might aid in unseating the malran. Between Eryx’s new mate and the mysterious instances of humans being brought to Eden, I couldn’t help but wonder if more knowledge might benefit our cause. Something we might be able to use to our advantage.” Fiddling with the fine overlay of her ivory gown, she wrapped him in a subtle cloud of influence.
You want to unseat Eryx. You want your power and prestige back.

Angus puckered his wrinkly mouth. “And this idea came to you out of nowhere? Out of the blue?”

“Where else would it come from?”

“I haven’t a clue,” he said. “But the timing is intriguing. Just this morning, the royal couple made an unexpected and unprecedented appearance at the sacred halls and carted off all books documented in the original Myren language.”

Serena shot to her feet. “They what?”

A crash from above shook the room, followed by muffled sobs and shouts.

“I see I’ve struck a nerve.” Angus eyeballed the ceiling for a second or two and chuckled. “Perhaps it’s you who’s being unnecessarily coy. I find it hard to believe your request is based on simple research.”

Serena strode to the window, fists clenched so tight her wrists and forearms ached.

Two guards stood at attention near the gold-flecked brick streets, a matching set outside the front door.

Angus gripped the armrests hard enough to turn his already pale skin whiter and one of his legs bounced in a nervous tick, but other than that, he seemed unaffected by her emotional outburst. Probably because he’d only been exposed to her for five minutes instead of twenty-four hours.

“I need those books,” Serena said.

“Well, I’m certainly not going to ask the malran for them, so I’m afraid I can’t help you on that score.” His voice trailed up at the end, as though he had more to say.

“But you might be able to help me on another?”

“Depends.” Angus released his death grip on the chair and reclined against the cushions, arms folded on his belly. “What’s in it for me?”

Serena smiled, a welcome wave of appreciation and downright respect dissipating the moroseness of her thoughts. Hard not to like the crotchety bastard when he copped such an attitude. “You want Eryx off the throne, correct?”

“I don’t think I’ve made that a secret, not even from the malran.”

Serena strolled toward him, grateful for the emotional equilibrium. “When he’s gone, the new ruler would require an advisor. Someone with extensive experience and connections. Someone well decorated and powerful in their own right.”

“I don’t see any contenders for the throne.”

“Just because you don’t see them, doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

Angus studied her, his nondescript hazel eyes sharp despite his nearly six hundred years. “The strategos. The one who brought me to Evanora’s place.”

Yes, definitely shrewd. Angus had met Uther only once and yet quickly discerned his abilities. Granted, the one meeting comprised of Uther finding, capturing, and bringing Angus to Maxis’ hidden warrior camp, so it was bound to make an impression. “Do you care so long as you get what you want?”

Angus’ lips twitched. He stood, the motion surprisingly spry considering how long it had taken him to sit. “It’ll take a few days.”

“I don’t have a few days. I need them now.”

Angus shuffled toward the door. “Tomorrow by sunset at the earliest.” He opened the door with an insolent flick of his wrist and turned at the threshold. His stooped shoulders gave his frail form an almost sinister look. “You’ll owe me for this, Serena. I might be old, but I’m not the one with banishment and the loss of powers hanging over my head.” He turned to exit. “I have no compunction ensuring evidence comes to light to make that eventuality happen.”

Chapter 23

R
amsay leaned forward
in the chair beside Trinity and propped his elbows on his knees, hands clasped between them. She looked so tiny in his big bed. A damned sunshine faery minus any sign of consciousness. It freaked him out seeing her void of expression, like someone had offloaded every scrap of her vibrant personality and left only a living shell behind.

The scratch of paper on paper startled him.

Reese slouched deeper in the wingback across the room, all attention riveted on the book he’d pretended to read for the last hour. He’d never known Reese to be a reader, and given his warrior’s attire, it sure wasn’t how he’d planned to spend his morning. Galena had probably guilted him into babysitting and brought the book to avoid meaningful chitchat. Still, good of the guy to keep Ramsay company. Especially when he factored in what a dick he’d been to Reese for the last seventy years.

Prying his fingers from their death clench, he stroked the area he’d healed on Trinity’s arm. Smooth, creamy skin. Not one mark left behind.

Well, no mark except the drastic change in her physical capabilities.

Idiot. He’d known better than to use that kind of energy on her. Healing humans was one thing, but healing a Myren with such an uncontrolled blast? Nothing short of a transition hot-wire.

“It was an accident.” Reese sat the open book in his lap and right-angled one leg over the other. “You didn’t know she was Myren.”

Well, technically he’d considered it. Hell, he’d hoped for it. But then he’d gotten so damned zeroed in on her being Spiritu, he’d forgotten the possible ties to his own race. “I was angry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“People do stupid shit. But the smart ones figure out where they went wrong and recalibrate.” Empathic words from a man who’d had his own lessons to learn. Seventy years he’d hid his ugly secret and lost everything he’d ever wanted in the process. Now he was a changed man, free of secrets and mated to the woman he’d always wanted.

“I guess that makes you pretty smart then,” Ramsay said.

“Took me long enough. Worth it though, to be with Galena.”

Ramsay flopped back in his chair, knees wide. “Still can’t believe we hung for four years and not once did you let on you had a thing for my sister.”

Four years of warrior training. Four years of having a friend of his own outside Ludan and Eryx. Until he’d used Reese’s perceived deceit to split ties and destroy the man he’d once called a friend.

Reese shrugged and shut the book. “You going to tell me you wouldn’t have punched me back then?”

“Not past punching you now.” Damn, but he hated when Eryx was right. He really had kept everyone at bay. He smoothed the back of his fingers against Trinity’s forearm. If he hadn’t been so stubborn, so guarded, things with Trinity could have gone a whole lot differently. “I owe you an apology.”

Reese cocked an eyebrow. “Thought we already covered that.”

He could let it slide. Not say another word and mosey on down the road. No vulnerability. Safe, but a total chicken-shit approach. “I apologized for judging you. Can’t say I’d have coped with Maxis being my brother any better than you did.” His lungs hitched and his tongue froze up, his mind glitching off line. “Truth is, I had no intention of letting you back in. Too risky.”

“Takes a while for trust to rebuild. Don’t blame you for that.”

Ramsay shook his head and refocused on Trinity. “You’re giving me too much credit.”

“Or you’re not giving yourself enough. Hate to point it out to you, but for a guy not interested in letting an old friend back in, it kinda sounds like you just took the first brick off that wall.”

Fucking Reese. Always able to see to the heart of everyone. Except himself. Probably the reason they’d gotten along in the first place. He shifted in his chair and fought to keep his feet still. He’d give anything to pace, maybe take about thirty minutes on a heavy bag to let out some tension.

“Why don’t you go check in with Eryx,” Reese said. “Grab some food. Bathe and change at least. If she does wake up, you’re going to scare the hell out of her.”

Ramsay held her hand. Warm, with a steady beat at her wrist, thank The Great One. “She doesn’t know you. I don’t want her to wake up without someone here she knows.”

If she wakes up.

The stupid thought had slammed around in his head so many times, his brain tissue was bruised. No one slept this long after an awakening. Even Lexi, who’d had the ritual from histus, woke up hours before this.

“Galena’s going to be here in another five minutes,” Reese said. “Go. Change. Stretch a little bit. I swear I’ll let you know if she wakes up.”

“She doesn’t know Galena either.”

“Really, man? We’re talking about your sister here. The one person in this family who could charm the horns off a demon.”

True. Whether it was her healer skills or her warm personality, Galena could put pretty much anyone at ease.

“Seriously,” Reese said. “What’s going to happen while you’re gone?”

Well, for one, she might wake up and demand someone take her back to Evad without letting him grovel and beg to let him make it right. Or worse, she could get the wrong impression right off the bat. Nothing said
I don’t give a shit
like waking up and learning the guy who pushed you into Myren culture couldn’t be bothered to stick around and see if you lived through it all.

“I can’t leave her like this. I owe it to her to stay.” Ramsay needed to make it right almost as bad as he needed to breathe. To earn back what he was scared shitless he’d lost.

Not that he’d share that last bit with Reese. Chipping away at emotional walls was one thing. Full-blown demolition wasn’t on the agenda. Not with Reese, anyway.

Trinity though…

“Have you looked in a mirror?” Reese said. “The only thing you’re gonna do if she sees your haggard mug is scream or feel guilty. Now, go. I’ve got this.”

His back cracked in none-too-subtle agreement. Twenty-four hours of nothing but sitting in this chair had left his muscles in wicked knots. If he looked half as bad as his body felt, Reese might be right. He stood and the joints in his knees snapped. His heart overcompensated and thumped out enough blood to fuel a race. “You’ll call me if—”

“Get out, Shantos. Galena’s headed up the back staircase now, and I can smell your bedside cologne from here.”

Fine. He’d catch a quick shower. Or maybe he’d scout out Lexi first and see if she’d be willing to sit with her. Trinity would want to see her could-be relation when she woke up. If he was lucky and threw on a decent load of groveling, he might even talk his shalla into a little girl-to-girl PR on his behalf.

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