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At first my legs are stiff, like two tree trunks, and it takes great effort to move them, but the more, I sing the looser I become until my joints move freely once again. My voice rises and I skip down the beach. I’m so lost in reverie that I don’t see the woman jogging toward me until I run into her. We both fall on our asses, but she looks more surprised than me.
“I’m so sorry.” I leap up and offer my hand to help her stand.
“Who are you?” She ignores my hand completely, remaining seated where she fell.
“Amaya, Amaya Reynolds.” But I regret telling her my name immediately. What if she wants to press charges?
“Well, Amaya Reynolds,” she pushes herself up and brushes her hand over her dark ponytail, “that’s one hell of a voice.”
“Th-th-thank you. I’m so sorry I ran into you, it was an accident.”
“Your secret weapon is your voice.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your singing knocked me out before you did.” She unzips the pocket of her Lululemon sport jacket and pulls out a card. “I’m a talent agent and you, Amaya Reynolds, have talent. In spades.”
My eyes rove between the card in her outstretched fingers and her face. Is she serious?
“Go ahead.” She thrusts her hand forward. “Take it.”
I do, if only to advance past this awkward moment as quickly as possible. I place it in the pocket of my jeans without looking at it.
“Call me.”
Chapter Fourteen
I take a cab back to the mansion after work. I couldn’t ask one of the guys to pick me up at midnight, not after everything else they do for me. Plus I did not want to field any awkward questions about who drank from me tonight and how I felt about it. Because, honestly? I don’t know. On the one hand, I’m yet again a big, fat failure in the feeding department. Vasily is still the only patron I’ve successfully let drink from me there, and “success” is relative since the last time I tried went so poorly. I shudder at the passing thought of Gregory, a vampire who was banned for trying to force me. Tonight was no exception; I was no one’s dinner, but it was more their choice than mine. So on the other hand, I’m floating on a cloud of relief. There’s little question in my mind that if I continue along the path I’ve set sail on, I won’t last much longer at Ichor. I suspect Miss Cheryl is only keeping me on until she finds my replacement. The only thing she’s getting out of me right now is eye candy.
Returning to the mansion is a no-brainer, especially after that creepy run-in with Bob at my parents’ house. When I get home the soft atrium lights are on, twinkling, lining the trees and indoor garden. I enter as quietly as possible and tiptoe to the stairwell leading to my wing.
“Amaya.” Cedar appears beside me and I startle with a little squeak. “I’m sorry,” he reaches out a hand to steady me, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“I didn’t see you there.” I look around. “Where were you?”
“I was sitting in the garden.” He motions to the indoor sanctuary with the pond and water feature that makes up a large portion of the atrium. “I was waiting for you.”
“For me? Why?”
“I drew the short straw?” he says, grinning.
I smile too. Cedar is the quietest of the brothers aside from Arch, who I suspect is quiet for a different reason. Cedar’s gray eyes churn like a thunderstorm and he runs his hands over his closely cropped, dark hair.
“Truth?” he asks.
“Truth.”
He reaches out a hand and I take it. His hands are larger than I would have guessed since he’s smaller in stature than Arch, but then again, who isn’t? He leads me back to the trees and flowers, sitting us down on a small marble bench. Without letting go of my hand, he turns to face me. “Do you want to tell me what happened tonight?”
I look at him, my eyes growing wide, and then I look up and out the glass ceiling into the dark night. “What do you mean?”
“I haven’t been able to see anything in my crystal ball for years, none of us have, but tonight . . .” He squeezes my hand. “I’m the seer of the family. When we all had our powers, everyone could use theirs if they set out to do so, but not me. Mine calls to me when it wants to show me something, or it used to. More, I could see the past, present and future, whereas other seers I’ve met could only see the past and present.”
I study his face, which is chiseled and sharp, unlike the others. Even the scar above his left eye is mesmerizing. I reach up and touch it. He lets me, not flinching or pulling away. “What happened?”
His lips curl. “Another story for another time.”
“All right, so tell me tonight’s story.”
“That’s what I’m asking you to do.” He brings our intertwined hands up to his mouth and runs my fingers along the crease of his lips, down his stubbled jawline to his neck, then places our hands over his heart, holding them there. “My crystal ball called to me tonight for the first time in many years.”
“It did? You must have been bored silly.” I roll my eyes, and yet I can’t help but worry that he’s seen I’m a sham. I went to work and made zero money.
He doesn’t chuckle at my lame humor. He holds my hand firmly in place. “It showed you talking to a bald man, and then you ran.”
“Bob.” I sigh and spread my hand out below his, pressing down to feel the beating of his heart. “It was nothing. That’s my landlord, the one who’s evicting me.”
He runs his other hand over my hair, gently pushing it back from my face. “It didn’t look like nothing. Why did you run?”
“I . . . I don’t know.” I shiver. Cedar holds still and I pull my hand off his chest to wind my arms around him, letting him pull me in for a long, deep hug.
“I waited to talk to you before telling the others.”
I pull back. “Please, there’s nothing to tell. I overreacted. The guy’s a complete jerk.” The last thing I need is them worrying about something else or even worse, pissing Bob off more than he already is so the few weeks I have to clear out the house turn into zero. “If anything weird happens, I promise I’ll tell you, but tonight was nothing.” I look into his churning gray eyes. “Please, Cedar, can you just drop it? For me?”
His expression is pained, brows knitted and eyes strained, but after a moment he nods and I nuzzle his neck. He smells like wood chips, like a bark-scented aftershave.
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning I open my eyes to find Cedar still holding me, in my bed. It’s exactly what I needed to feel safe, but when there’s a knock on my door, I scramble away from him. His eyes open slowly, the calming gray washing away all turbulence from the night before.
“Thank you,” I whisper and he beams, sliding out of my bed, still fully clothed.
Another knock.
“Can I?” he asks and I nod. “Come in.”
The door cracks open and Vasily stands in the doorway, tall and dark and strong. He eyes Cedar and I throw the covers over my head. “Glad to see you’re getting to know each other better. Breakfast is ready and I’d like it if you’d eat up since we may be in Tara for a while.”
“Of course,” I mumble from under the covers.
Right. Tara. Time to earn my keep.
After breakfast, the four brothers, Vasily and I go to the spell room. The king pulls a skeleton key out of his pocket. The spell room is still locked? For my protection or the other way around? Are there dark secrets inside? Regardless, I’m butt-hurt but keep my mouth shut.
The room is exactly the way I remember it, like a medieval dungeon of horrors on the second floor of this gorgeous modern mansion. The tall window on the right still reminds me of a leaded, arched castle window. The sturdy round wooden table on the left with the large tree perched on top of it looks like it belongs in the Lord of the Rings. The tall bookshelves lining the walls are filled with even more witchy items in glass jars than I remember. I look up, expecting the open ceiling, but today the sunroof is closed.
I take my
seat on a cushion at the table without being asked and wait while everyone collects items from the shelves. I absently play with the mortar and pestle while Forrest places the candles, grumbling about much he hates the decor here. That, too, hasn’t changed. I bite back a smile. Vasily opens the ceiling with the remote control, exposing the dusky late afternoon sky. I shiver even though it’s not cold. Cedar leafs through the spell book they call a grimoire. Arch sits next to me and squeezes my hand.
“You ready for this?” he asks.
“No.” How can I ever be ready to go back to my nightmares? The place where up is down and down is sideways. Every time I’ve been thrown into Tara, I’ve almost been killed. And now I’m supposed to safely return their king? But after everything Vasily’s done for me, I need to make this work, even if I’d rather not spend any time away from the other men.
Vasily meets my gaze. “If you don’t want to do this, I don’t want you to.”
“None of us do.” Arch’s eyes darken.
“No, I do, I’m just a little scared.”
Vasily says, “I’ll be there with you. It’s my home. I won’t let anything happen to you. And when we’re done, I’m sure we’ll all have a better sense of the extent of your powers. Wouldn’t you like that?”
I nod, mute, but I don’t know if I can fully control whatever powers or gifts I have. Assuming I really do have any. What if they’re gone? What if they were only temporary, or were never really there in the first place? I mean, it’s the Edge. What if all those trips to Tara were someone else’s magic at work and I just got caught in the backwash? What if we get there and find out it’s yet another thing I’m a sham at? I cast about for an excuse to shelve this whole trip. “What about the banishment? Isn’t that still in place?”
“I don’t think so.” Arch leans in closer and his scent fills my nostrils. “When he was banished, Candy, who was bound to him, was banished as well, but she got back in with you. Either you override that spell or,” he shrugs, “it’s worn off.”
“Spells wear off?”
“They do. Even a spell cast by the most powerful witches and warlocks dissipates, eventually.”
Okay. He’s a warlock so he would know. Dammit. “And what about the rest of you?”
“We’ll need you to return to us as soon as possible.” Arch’s hand trails down to the small of my back and rests there for a beat.
They want me back?
“We need your help to get our powers back.”
I deflate. If only they wanted me for just me, but who am I kidding? If I am able to return their powers, as well as shuttle them back and forth between Tara and Earth, well then—that would pay for all my leeching. Here’s hoping I really do have a special brew.
“You guys ready?” Bodhi steps up behind me, his hands resting on my shoulders.
Arch nods, his jaw clenched tight.
Am I ready? Not really. “Yep.”
Vasily takes his seat on my other side. Bodhi lights the candles with Cedar following. He draws symbols in the air and whispers incantations, casting the circle together. The rest of the setup is just like the last time, when I was catapulted into Tara with Candy. Forrest pinches the herbs into the mortar and pestle and grinds them. Cedar and Bodhi take their seats. Arch lights the charcoal disk, sparking it to life in a tray. Forrest adds a pinch of herbs to the burning disk and passes the marble bowl. We all do the same and then clasp hands. Each warlock blows on the tree. Cedar checks the grimoire and chants something in Latin. The rest of the warlocks join it, all closing their eyes. Vasily turns to look at me and I remember I need to close my eyes. So I do.
Then he kisses me.
And that surprises me way more than the familiar flash of white light obliterating the darkness behind my lids.
Chapter Sixteen
When my eyes fly open, I’m in the water meadow in Tara. The too-bright colors of the grass and flowers strain my eyes. Each blade is a vibrant spectacle of green. No, not just green, a color of green that doesn’t even exist on Earth. The sky is oversaturated as well, its teal and blue hues stretching toward the thick wall of trees in the distance.
Just like last time, I’m alone. Except I’m not supposed to be.
“Vasily?” I look around. “Vasily!” I yell louder, not caring who else may hear me. “Where are you?”
There’s no response.
I curse and push to my knees, making a beeline for the forest of Calixto. Just in time too, as my new pair of Converse are quickly soaked, slowing down my progress. Within seconds, my ankles are submerged. Even though I survived drowning last time, I keep running—except it’s more like sloshing—through the plants. The forest ahead looks even farther than it was just a moment ago. It’s as if I’m running down a never-ending hallway straight from The Shining.
Candy said the Water Meadow fills whenever it likes and it seems to like filling as soon as I plop down in it. Where the hell is Vasily and why isn’t he helping me?
“Vasily!” I try again.
A second later the water is to my knees and denser than last time, like I’m walking through sludge. It’s slow going, but I keep pushing forward . . . and the forest keeps getting farther. Aha! This must be what happened when I fell out of a tree and flew upward. Remember, Amaya, Tara is not what it seems. Left is right.
I pivot as carefully as I can so I don’t fall and drown again and walk the other way, which looks exactly the same as the way I was just walking. What the hell? I want to spin around again but there’s no time. The water is up to the tops of my thighs. I stagger forward as fast as I can while being as careful as possible, and yes, now the forest is getting closer. By the time I’ve gone several feet, though, the water is up to my waist. Another few feet and it reaches my neck. Screw it. I have at least sixty yards left to go. I start to swim without letting my head go under the water. I make progress as the water rises. By the time I get to the forest, though, my head is bobbing above the tree line and wham, I slam into a weird invisible barrier, just like last time. I press my hands against it, like a mime, the forest just beyond. It feels solid, like a piece of glass. I knock on it and catch some movement ahead but no one appears. I kick at it. Nothing. It’s solid and doesn’t budge. Okay, no point in panicking, I have plenty of room to rise with the water into the sky.
Doggy paddling, I keep my head above the water line except that something below tugs at my legs, like a whirlpool. There’s an unseen current, a riptide, apparently. It slams my entire body against the barrier and I kick away from it, only to be slammed back into it a second later. I’m paddling a good thirty feet above the tree line when the whirlpool grows stronger—and something else circles my waist. I have a split second to suck in a lungful of air before I’m dragged underwater.
Chapter Seventeen
Don’t fight it, the cognizant part of my brain urges. Fight it, screams lizard brain. Remember what happened last time, reasons memory brain. I let whatever has me pull me back down. It’s not a violent pull, it’s slow and deliberate and I open my eyes to look down at what’s holding me, expecting a vine. But it’s not a vine, it’s a snake woman? If she weren’t so beautiful, I’d be clawing at her and trying to swim away but she smiles up at me, her tail flicking against the underside of my belly. An iridescent mermaid who shimmers with blue-green metallic scales. Strands of long pale hair flow through the water like ribbons. My body doesn’t obey though and I struggle, almost losing the precious air I’m holding in my lungs. I have two choices, fight and drown or let this terrifying and beautiful creature pull me back down to the bottom of the meadow. My lungs are screaming, but last time I was able to breathe under the water here. Do I chance that again? It’s what happened after that could kill me. With my lungs full of water, I was unable to breathe air when it returned and had to throw myself over a rock, dislodging the liquid in order to breathe again. A horrifying and painful experience.
Somehow I manage not to breathe but it takes every last ounce of my will. As soon as my but
t lands on the bottom of the meadow, the water completely disappears. I gasp lungfuls of precious air and instinctively claw at my waist, but the mermaid is gone. But where did it go if it lives in the water? Just another wacky thing about Tara. I wish I could thank her. If she hadn’t pulled me down, I would have fallen from the sky and may not have survived.
Standing on shaking legs, I take a few wobbly steps toward the forest of Calixto with my arms held out but the barrier is gone. I practically fall into the forest and sit down, hugging my knees to my chest.
Within minutes I hear rustling from all around me and look up. Great, I’m surrounded by the dryad army who tried to kill me once before.
“Devil giant!” the tiny wingless fairies chant. Dressed all in black, wearing tiny helmets, they close in with spears raised and pointing at me.
I hold my hands up. “I’m not here to hurt you. I came back with the king.”
They stop marching and exchange glances.
“Lie, lie, liar!” one of them yells and they advance again.
Shit, there really isn’t a way I can prove it if he’s not here with me. Great, death by a thousand tiny cuts. Of course all I really have to do is stand up and step over them or crush them beneath my soggy Converse.
“Halt,” cries one of the women. “Troopers Cli and Basma, convene.”
The rest spread wider to keep me enclosed in a circle. Mermaid notwithstanding, dryads are slightly larger than the other fae I’ve encountered here, about the size of my hand. They all sport long dark hair, the men have beards, and every one of them could be described as rotund. The three that whisper together wear dark jackets with multiple stripes on each sleeve. The one in charge, a female, has the most stripes, which cover the length of both sleeves, while the male trooper has four and the one called Basma has five. They whisper together, the one in charge turning toward me with narrowed eyes. Screw it. I stand up and they shoulder their spears, which look like thin, miniature pencils. I’ve been stabbed with their weapons before and it’s not fun but it won’t kill me.