The Aether, page 22
“He’ll think I’m lying.”
“You have your Sentinels to bear witness. He’ll believe them,” he assured her.
When she squinted at him with doubt, he chuckled. “Once, when I was your exact age, I ran away from home. You know what he did after he found me?” Damian tucked a lock of her unkempt hair behind her ear. Likely she did know, but he said it anyway. “He hugged me so tightly I could barely breathe. Afterward, he made me blueberry pancakes, and I ate them until my belly ached.”
Her engaging grin triggered his.
“Go get your pancakes, my love.”
“Thank you, Papa.”
She hugged him one last time and darted away.
Rising to his feet, he smiled at those gathered. “If one hair on her head is harmed, I’ll kill you all. You’d better stay alert. She’s quick.”
The group scrambled after her.
CHAPTER 34
With the bulk of their numbers gone, the tunnels seemed cavernous and more threatening, somehow. Odd, that. Morcant and his two henchmen were gone, and the tribunal was a matter for another day, so there shouldn’t be a sense of unease haunting Damian.
Yet there was.
He felt it beneath his skin, burrowing along his nerve endings, urging him to take note.
“What is it, Dethridge?” Trevor watched him warily. “You’re on high alert. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. A feeling, I suppose. As if all of this was too easy.”
“You call today easy?”
“For me, yes.” Again, he glanced around, unable to shake the perilous feeling. “You need to get out of here. Right now.” Scooping his wife into his arms, he transferred her body to Trevor. “Go, Blane. Take her into the hallway, then teleport to my home.”
Dodging through the wall opening, the Death Dealer was gone, and Damian jogged down the hallway to where Alastair, Castor, and Jordon remained to care for Rorie.
“We need to get out. There’s something—”
Bulbs flickered, giving an idea of how dark the place would be in a blackout.
Damian retraced his steps, pausing to study the wiring leading to the ballasts housing the lights. Concentrating on sound only, he listened for the hum of electricity, the annoying buzz he’d spent years trying to block out after its invention.
The current wasn’t normal.
A pattern disrupted the standard flow.
“Castor, if or when I say, freeze the room,” he mentally projected.
Easing into a standing position, Castor dropped all pretense of teasing and raised his hands as he prepared for battle.
“Al, take your wife and Jordon out of here. Immediately.”
Worry tightened the lines around Alastair’s mouth and his sapphire eyes were solemn. “I’d stay if it wasn’t for Rorie.”
“I know. Go.”
With the help of Jordan, Alastair got his mate on her feet and shuffled her out the exit.
“And then there were two,” Castor said.
“Or more.”
“How do you know?”
“I feel them. It’s time for your escape, my friend.”
“Fuck you, Dethridge. I’m not leaving.”
“Alex—”
“No! You’ve saved my life, my nephew, his mate. Hell, you’ve saved just about everyone I know.”
“Alex—”
“I’m not—”
“Alex! Shut the fuck up and let me listen!”
“You only needed to ask,” Castor replied sourly.
Damian snorted before spinning in a slow circle. The threat was everywhere at once.
“Go.”
“No.”
“I’m about to level this room, Alex, and I can’t do it with you here. Please go.”
“What about you?”
He didn’t say he’d be buried alive. He didn’t need to.
“Fuck that, Damian. That’s going to be a big hell no!”
“If you ever did what you were told, I’d die of shock,” Damian muttered aloud.
“Meh.”
To the troop of twenty-two warriors, he said, “Reveal yourselves. Cloaking does you no good in my presence.”
“Jesus!” Alex pressed his back to Damian’s in a show of unity as the Authority’s enforcers came into sight. “All this for one man?”
“But he’s no average man,” Brooke replied as she stepped forward.
“Ms. Ellis.” Damian looked past her at the hardened expressions of her fellow soldiers. “I thought we established I’d be visiting the Authority in the morning.”
“It appears that’s not good enough for Butthanger.”
“Buttagier,” he corrected absently, noting the moniker had stuck. “He sent you after me, knowing you would all suffer for the attack? Was this sanctioned by the rest?”
By “rest,” he meant the Fates and Isis.
“I don’t know. I’m simply following orders, sir.”
“Hmm. Following those orders is a suicide mission, Brooke,” he said gently. “Is it your intent to die today?”
“Your powers were supposed to be neutralized,” she said. Her brows drew together as if she was confused as to why they hadn’t been.
“This feels like a setup,” Alex remarked. Damian glanced over his shoulder and almost laughed when Castor gave a come-at-me-bro grin to the nearest soldier.
“Do you take nothing seriously, my friend?”
“Why should I? It’s only life or death.”
With a slight shake of his head, Damian addressed Brooke. “Alex is right. This has setup written all over it.”
Her concern was evident in the side glances she threw her Red Guard, and Damian could sense her heightening unease.
“Brooke, if I may?” At her nod, he approached her. “Let me paint the setting, and you can tell me if it’s accurate. You returned to base and told Butthanger I’d bring my daughter in tomorrow for the tribunal.” She made an affirmative gesture. “However, his jowly face wobbled as he sputtered his dismay?”
Her lips twitched. “Yes.”
“Sorry, I was picturing the scene. Perhaps I went too far.”
“Not at all,” she replied. Her frown fell away as she fought a smile.
“Good. To continue. He bid you return and what? Arrest me? Try to kill me?”
“He said to use whatever force was necessary and that your magic would be reduced.”
“But it’s not.”
Her gaze traveled the expanse of her team like a high-speed train, then settled on Damian. “Clearly, since you were able to sense us so easily.”
“Clearly.” He sauntered back to where Alex now rested with his back along the jagged stone wall, purposefully studying his nail beds.
“Alex, would you like to finish how this little scene plays out?”
Castor clapped his hands like an excited three-year-old. “Oh! I’ve been waiting for my turn.”
Running a hand across his mouth, Damian hid his grin.
“Okay! So here’s what’s going to happen,” Castor said, gesturing with his hands as if he were drawing everyone closer for story time. “You all are going to attack, per your ridiculous orders. The Aether, fully juiced, is going to wipe you all out with a simple flick of his wrist.” He shot a faux exasperated glance Damian’s way. “Keeping all the fun for himself, I might add.”
“It’s expedient,” Damian quipped.
“Sure, but I never get to play.”
“Whine, whine, whine.”
Castor shrugged and faced Brooke. “What amounts to a one-minute skirmish won’t kill Damian, but it will put a target on his back when he defeats all of you. He’ll be labeled unstable, and all the deities, the Authority, and the Six will be forced to step in. They’ll attempt to entomb him.”
Brooke’s midnight-blue eyes darkened with the realization she’d been a pawn in a game far above her pay grade.
“But they won’t be able to,” Damian stated with satisfaction. “Would you care to learn why, Ms. Ellis?”
Castor grinned.
After a considering pause, she nodded.
“He’s got friends, cher.”
She spun toward the wall opening where Draven and Creed were looming. Although Masters’s stance was deceptively casual, his companion’s was not. Expression steely, Creed manipulated a ball of fire in his palm in a slow, menacing rotation.
“An Aether, a Traveler, a Guardian, and one pissed-off ex-employee of the Authority. What do you suppose your chances are, Brooke?” Alex asked pleasantly as if discussing the weather.
“You forgot the Wraith,” Creed stated succinctly.
Draven nodded. “You can’t see or feel her, but she’s here, nonetheless.”
“My suggestion is simple, Ms. Ellis.” Damian waited until she met his cool, no-nonsense gaze. “Forget this foolishness. Take your team and go home. Save their lives and your own.”
Torn, she shook her head.
“I still intend to attend tomorrow’s tribunal, my dear. Buttagier will answer to the others, and you’ll be off the hook.”
“You don’t understand,” she said. “We all face elimination if we return unsuccessful.”
“So you’re slated to die either way,” Creed said flatly.
“There’s another way, cher.” Draven shoved a few soldiers aside as he made his way to her. “You can disappear.”
“Like you?” She scoffed. “Like Caldwell? Become traitors to the Authority?”
His expression hardened, and he stepped into her space, but Brooke didn’t back an inch.
Whatever he’d intended to say would’ve been scathing, and for the sake of future relationships, Damian decided to defuse the situation.
“Or you can join our side, Ms. Ellis.” Placing a calming hand on Master’s shoulder, he recognized her false bravado as a ploy. Others were watching. Damian smiled at Brooke. “It’s far more lively and entertaining if you decide you want to.”
“Never going to happen.” A flash of discomfort crossed her visage, and she touched a hand to her temple. With a nod for someone the rest of them couldn’t see, she swirled her hand in the air.
“Return to base,” she ordered in a hard voice. “Immediately.”
One by one, the soldiers fell into line, forming two columns and marching in unison toward the door. Brooke lingered long enough to say, “Tribunal. Tomorrow at nine a.m. sharp. Any later, and a kill order will be issued, Mr. Dethridge.”
“That isn’t what this little show of force was?” Castor asked, his eyebrows at his hairline.
As she shifted to leave, Damian glimpsed her lips twitch. “It’s all fun and games until someone gets on my bad side, Mr. Castor,” she called out, not bothering to turn back.
“Now that’s over, let’s get to Ravenwood. I need to check on my children,” Damian said heavily. He prayed this foolish stunt by Buttagier hadn’t cost him his wife. If it had, the man would be unable to hide. Whatever rock he scurried under, he’d be found.
CHAPTER 35
Vivian waited, not so patiently, for her husband to revive her. There was no way in hell she ever intended to leave her children despite the draw of the Otherworld. And it had been strong. The allure of peace and love, of no troubles, could tempt even the most resistant.
Yet the instant she died, she’d seen it all clearly. Her children needed her guidance. Especially Nate. Without her, he’d be tempted to ignore Damian’s sage advice and run wild. Worse than his sister already did. That recklessness would lead him down unredeemable paths. Eventually, he’d square off against his sister, and they’d all lose out.
If Sabrina defeated Nate, her self-hatred would be limitless. Her father’s affectionate nature would disappear, and their relationship would be strained for the remainder of their long lives. If Nate won, he’d make the Enchantress’s reign look tame by comparison. Delaney, the only other person bonded to Vivian’s son, would be unable to reach him on her own.
However, if Damian and Trevor Blane could resurrect her, if they could restore her mind and make her soul whole, the chances were better for Nate and the magical world as a whole. That went the same for the next day’s tribunal. Damian and Sabrina had to survive it. The alternative was bleak.
“Why the delay?” Damian snapped, bringing Vivian’s attention to the ceremony taking place.
“I have no fucking clue, man.” With a shrug and a swipe at his forehead sweat, Trevor leaned his head against the wall where he sat, weary from the restoration process and hurting from the electrocution. “What did your kid say? Longer for her?”
“Yes.” Grimness tightened her husband’s features. “But you can’t take another bolt, Blane. It’ll kill you.”
“I refuse to believe we can’t bring her back. What are we missing?”
Josie, who’d been lingering in the hall, entered the room and sashayed over to Damian. Placing a hand on his bicep, she smiled. “The spark.”
“I don’t understand.”
Vivian smiled. “Good girl, Josie!”
Her sister looked her in the eye and grinned.
Vivian nearly fell over. Or she would’ve if she had been inside her body. “You can see me?”
“Yes, Viv.”
“You can see her?” Trevor and Damian parroted in surprise.
“Yes.” After an exaggerated eye roll and a single-shoulder shrug, she sauntered over to the body on the bed. “I think it’s from being on the other side as long as I was.”
“Ask Vivian what we need,” Damian ordered. His tone was as sharp and intense as his expression.
“I told you. The spark.”
“Tell him what the spark is, sister,” Vivian urged.
“I don’t know that, Viv.” A frown tugged Josie’s auburn brows together. “Do you?”
“Nate. Nate’s the spark.”
“Baby or Guardian?”
“My son.”
Josie relayed the message, and before she was finished, Damian was bolting down the hall toward the nursery.
Within seconds, he’d teleported back into the room, Nate cradled in his arms. “You may want to plug your ears for this,” he warned. “When I wake him, he’ll scream his head off. He felt the connection with Vivian snap earlier today.”
“Tell Damian—”
“You tell him, Viv. Use me as a conduit to speak.”
“It’ll weaken you,” she warned.
“I’ll be fine,” Josie assured her.
Meeting Josie halfway, she joined her energy to her sister’s by clasping her hands.
“Damian, place Nate on his belly across my chest.”
Appearing ill at ease, he did as instructed. “What’s next, and let’s hurry this along. Hearing your voice come out of Josie’s mouth is most disturbing.”
Vivian laughed, and both men looked visibly shaken.
“Kiss me, Damian.”
His black brows snapped together so fast that Vivian would’ve bent double in her amusement had she not been tethered to Josie.
“I am not kissing your sister.”
“Good. Because you need to kiss me to breathe life into my body. Just as you did when you woke me the day you came to retrieve Sabrina.”
Lips turned up in a self-deprecating smile, Damian shook his head. “Of course.”
“But how does the baby figure into all this?” Trevor asked.
“He’s her tether to this side. The maternal love she feels for him is her reason for living. The spark.”
Satisfied her husband understood what needed to be done, she released her grip on Josie, mentally wincing when her sister collapsed in a heap on the floor.
When Trevor opened his mouth to speak, Damian waved him off.
“Remember your family, Viv. Remember how much we love you and need you. How much Nate and Sabrina need you. Come back to us, fully restored, my love.” Enchantment in place, he bent and kissed her.
The pull was instantaneous, and her soul snapped into place.
And fuck if every cell of her body didn’t ache like a bitch.
She moaned even as she reached to wrap her arms around her son.
The muffled sound of Sabrina’s sparkling slippers hitting the carpet runner heralded her arrival. She skidded to a halt just inside the door. Her eyes wide and focused on Damian.
“I forgot to tell you about the spark and that you had to kiss her, Papa!”
“We figured that out on our own, Beastie.”
With a face-splitting grin, she ran for the bed, only stopping when she was at the edge. “Nate is going to be fine, Mama.”
“Yes, and so are you,” Vivian croaked past the lump forming in her throat. “I’m sorry you had to suffer Morcant and his men.”
“It wasn’t so bad. I knew Papa was coming for us.”
“I always will,” Damian said with a hard look. “Count on it.”
“Since my job here is done, I’ll leave you all to your reunion,” Trevor said, using the wall as a brace to haul himself up.
As he rounded the bed, Sabrina stepped over Josie and met him. “I can give you a boost, Mr. Trevor.”
“Your magical help scares me, kid.” He smiled to take the sting from his words. “Give that boost to your aunt, and I’ll help her to her room.”
Within minutes, they were alone and snuggling together on the bed, one worn-out but happy family.
“If I make it to my next birthday, it will be a miracle,” Damian teased.
Or perhaps he was serious, because they still had to face the Authority to argue for their lives.
“You need not go, Viv,” he said quietly. “I can handle it.”
“How did you know—ah! Our new connection.”
He stroked the hair back from Vivian’s temple as he watched Sabrina buss Nate’s round cheek. “I confess, I like it.”
“I do, too.”
When he smiled, it warmed the places that still felt cold and lifeless. The areas where her fear resided.
“Tell me it’s all going to be all right, Damian,” she whispered, in deference to her sleeping son and drowsy daughter.
“It’s going to be okay, Mama,” Sabrina mumbled the assurance Vivian needed, never opening her eyes as she snuggled closer. “Papa is going to be too smart for them.”
