Intuition: The Premonition Series (57 page)

“Of course
you’re
fine, but what about Zee—he might need me and I just can’t leave him because I promised Buns that I would give him back to her. She will kill me if anything happens to him,” I say, changing tack and seeing Zee’s smile go all the way to his eyes.

Zephyr walks to me and pats my head. “Go rest. I am tired of worrying about you and I have to see if I can get them to let Buns in here. Either that or I have to get them to let me go out to the plane for a while,” Zephyr says with a grin that makes me blush.

I understand everything that they are saying, and under normal circumstances, it can be seen as a reasonable request for obedience that I go with Preben and sleep. I’m aware that if I don’t lie down soon I’ll fall down. It’s also quite clear that everyone with authority here is used to getting his own way, for the most part. They have reasonable expectations that whatever they say will be heeded implicitly. I don’t have those expectations, but as Preben moves closer to me, I hold on to Reed tighter. After Preben realizes that anything short of prying my hands off of Reed is not going to make me come with him alone, he arranges for Reed’s escort to come with my escort to my room.

I do my best to walk out of the vaulting room unaided. No one has to tell me that it’s crucial to hide all of my weaknesses as best as I can, even though these angels are highly skilled at assessing all of those weaknesses. None of the divine beings that I pass growl at me. I’m not sure if I won some respect from them, or if it’s because I’m walking with Reed by my side, but they are not openly hostile now. Mostly, I’m stared at as an oddity or maybe something else. Maybe the outfit that Buns had given me is enchanted because it’s making some of the angels kind of dopey.

As we walk through the opulent passages of the Chateau, I can hardly focus on the intricate pieces of art that line the halls and alcoves of the extensive fortress because I cannot keep my eyes off of the perfection that is walking directly at my side. I barely know that there are others still with us. It’s like they are walking in the shade and I’m walking next to the sun, but as we continue our progress, I begin to feel fragile with Reed at my side. I can’t read what is going on in his mind. He is giving nothing away, even as I try to enter his thoughts through his eyes. I wonder if he knows that he is the one who can bring me to my knees in a way that the Gancanagh and the council of Powers cannot.

When we reach the ground floor of another vast turret, it is clear by the way that many of the members of my entourage launch into the air that we are heading up. Everyone but Reed looks at me funny when I remain on the ground, looking up in wonder at the tiers of balconies that go all the way up to the rooftop. It’s making me feel like I’m trapped in a lavish wasps’ nest. A horde of angels are flying around in pursuit of whatever it is that they pursue and it’s not much of a stretch for my imagination to picture what a war between these angels and the Gancanagh will look like. It will be just like wasps attacking a nest of army ants, the images of which are making me feel faint all of a sudden.

Something inside of me hurts and I don’t know why. The Gancanagh are evil, but they offered me a place in their family—well, maybe “offered” is not the right word, maybe it is better to say they “insisted” I join their family. Now, something dark within me feels like I just betrayed them.
He will pay me back for my sedition,
I think as Brennus’ beautiful image comes to my mind and I feel cold inside.
What did Finn say? He called me a hallion and said that I will die, and then, I will have all of eternity to make it up to Brennus.
Something twists inside of me. It’s the part of me that had urged me to join them when I saw Alfred being torn apart in front of me.
It’s the aching evil part of me that I can never show these angels, or they will end me without hesitation,
I think with fear, because I know now that this evil part of me exists.

Reed sees something in my eyes before I am able to shutter them to the outside world. He watches me close, but he doesn’t say anything when he puts his arms around me, embracing me as he makes the leap into the air. We follow Preben up to one of the uppermost balconies of the turret.
These balconies are all lined with doors, almost like individual cells for larvae.

We land on one of the balconies and I am ushered to one such door, but when it opens I don’t find any sticky larvae inside, but a beautifully appointed, if very masculine, bedroom. I tread slowly into the room, feeling enchanted by the fact that it’s the opposite of what I expected. I had thought I would be given a sparse room with a militaristic type bed and little else. Instead, I’m treated to an alluring space with a large bed covered in the softest sheets and blankets. The room has it’s own bathroom and shower that has every amenity except for a bathtub. A rosewood writing desk and chair are situated on a beautifully woven carpet and the far wall has glass-paneled French doors that lead to a small balcony overlooking the water far below.

On my way across the room to the balcony doors, I pause in the middle of the room. One of the plaster walls contains a gilt framed oil painting depicting a landscape of a place that can’t possibly exist because the contours and images created within it are flawless and mystical. Some primal emotion triggers within me as I unconsciously switch direction, creeping nearer to the artwork on the wall. I have no words to describe what some of the things are in the painting beside the frolicking angels. There are also colors in the painting that I have no names for because they do not exist in the human spectrum. As I move toward it, I have to hug my arms to my body. I am afraid that if I don’t, I will reach out and touch the painting, which seems blasphemous.

Only Reed and Preben follow me into the room and they are both watching me silently as I study the painting before me. I don’t realize that I am crying until I feel tears fall from my cheeks to drip on my forearms. When I touch my shaking hand to my cheek, there are goose bumps on my arms.

“What do you call that, in your sky?” I whisper, because I can hardly speak, but I manage to gesture toward the image near the points of light. They both answer me in Angel, since there is no word for it in any human language. I just nod because they have just proven to me how very inadequate my words are.

“I think that Brennus was wrong,” I say in a soft tone, continuing to analyze the landscape. “He told me that I could never miss what I have never had, but I think that, perhaps, I can.”

Reed’s voice sounds less than musical when he turns to Preben and says something to him. Preben begins arguing with Reed in Angel, but when he scans me with his discerning eyes, he finally nods. Then, Preben says in English, “I will be just outside, if you need me. Do not attempt to leave,” he orders, looking at the balcony doors meaningfully.

I nod to him in an absent way, my gaze still riveted on the painting, but the moment he closes the door behind him, I launch myself into Reed’s arms. One of Reed’s hands comes up to cup the base of my head, while the other hand is planted firmly on the small of my back, pulling me to him as our lips meet in a kiss that makes my knees feel weak and my whole body flame with heat.

A small sound of pleasure escapes me as his lips slip from mine to move along the uninjured side of my neck. My arms feel heavy as I wrap them behind Reed’s neck to keep from crashing, even though I’m aware that he is pressing me to his body so that I won’t fall. My fingertips lightly dance over the corded muscles of his shoulders and back, feeling raw power beneath them.

His lips find mine again as he lifts me off of my feet and walks me slowly to the bed. The mattress cradles me as Reed lays me across it. His hand rests beside my face, pooling my hair around my head while his other hand is on the bed near my waist. He pulls back from me and the desire I see in his eyes is nothing short of thrilling as his knee presses forward into the mattress between my knees. My hands search the contours of his upper arms, remembering him in a primal way by his touch and his scent and the taste of him.

Reed leans his forehead against mine. “I have to go now,” he says with regret. I don’t understand what he is saying right away. My body is acting on it’s own, rising up to meet his as he hovers so near above me.

“Hmm?” I manage to say, tilting my head to the side so that I can nuzzle his earlobe.

“I have to go back now. I was only allowed to come here with you briefly, but I…” he has to stop for a second as he exhales from the passion building between us. “I have little authority here. I believe that I can rectify that now, since the war council has seen you. It will take some negotiating, since I refused to cooperate with them when I was brought here.”

I hesitate. “What do you mean you refused to cooperate with them? They are freaking killers. How do you refuse to cooperate with killers?” I ask as what he said is taking shape in my mind. What must he have endured because of his refusal to tell them what they wanted to know about me? They threatened to shear off my wings just because they
thought
I was lying to them, when I was actually telling them the truth.

“Well, pain is subjective—physical pain is preferable to me than… they were careful not to kill us when they questioned us.” He looks away and doesn’t say any more, but I understand him. The torture that he has probably been enduring daily for the past month is preferable to the pain that I have put him through when I left him.

I squeeze my eyes shut and turn my face away from him. I can’t look at him because of what I did to him—to Zee, too. Tightness grips my heart and compresses it. “How is it that they didn’t kill you?” I ask, because I need to know how he survived this nightmare to be with me now.

“They didn’t have proof of you, except for what Pagan was ranting. I also have a high rank within the order, so they have to be cautious where Zephyr and I are concerned,” Reed answers, pulling my chin back to face him.

“What are you, a general?” I ask, trying to contain the sorrow overwhelming me.

“Not exactly—I rarely lead others—I’m more special ops,” he says, smoothing my hair back from my face.

“Lone assassin?” I ask as he lies next to me, staring at me as if he has never seen me before, while a smile appears at the corners of his mouth.

“I missed you,” he murmurs, picking up a piece of my hair.

“Why? All I do is hurt you?” I ask in a choked voice, putting my arm over my eyes.

He pulls my arm away from my face, making me look at him. He can’t be more handsome in this moment. His hair is in disarray from the combat he has endured to save me. His perfect skin is smeared with his blood and my blood. He has a myriad of cuts and bruises in various stages of healing, their colors ranging from black to yellow, but it’s the intense desire in his eyes that makes him look fierce when he says, “Because you are my reason to live.”

“And, you are mine. I would’ve lost my soul if it weren’t for you,” I admit, moving to him so that I am on top of him, straddling his hips and gazing down at him. “I realized when I was in the cell, that if I let them take my soul and change me into a Gancanagh, I would never be able to see you again… that one day, if we ever did meet again, you would have to kill me,” I whisper as he brushes my hair back from my face.

“You give me too much credit, Evie…I wouldn’t be able to kill you. I would probably beg them to change me, too,” he says with a sad smile as he touches my cheek tenderly. “I have tried to live without you… I won’t try anymore.”

“You can’t do that, Reed,” I retort.

“Why not?” he asks in a low tone. “You are the only thing I have ever needed and I won’t give you up. The only being who will keep me from you is you,” he says with conviction. “You are where I draw the line. They can have anything else that they want, but they cannot have you—not when I have breath in my body to prevent it.”

“You are insane—you should run—I’m a time bomb just waiting to go off—I’m a magnet for evil…I’m…” I say, but Reed sits up so that our chests are pressed together. He kisses me tenderly as his thumb strokes my cheek and his other hand holds my back.

He leans his forehead against mine again, and then he asks in a whisper, “How bad did he hurt you?” His whole body is tense. I know he is asking me about Brennus. I hesitate, because I have already made him bleed physically for me, I don’t want him to bleed inside for me as well. His jaw goes rigid at my hesitation. “Please, tell me,” he says.

My throat squeezes closed again so I have to whisper my reply. “He broke me.” Reed’s arms tighten as I continue quietly, “Russell saved me…if it wasn’t for him, and a dozen or so grenades, I would’ve been one of them. I couldn’t stop the pain from his bites. It would’ve been only a matter of time. Drinking Brennus’ blood was ceasing to be an option and becoming more like a necessity. If I had done that, he would’ve made me his undead lover in due course.”

“Then, he hasn’t made you his lover?” he asks, hardly breathing.

“No, I was spared that because he was afraid he would kill me before he could change me,” I reply. “But it would have happened… I was beginning to crave him and I know that I would have eventually done anything he wanted me to do,” I admit, and the shame that I feel is making me break down and cry on Reed’s shoulder. “I feel so weak.”

“How can you say that, Evie?” Reed asks, holding me in his arms. “You endured more than any one of those Gancanagh did when you refused to comply. That means you are strong, stronger than any of them,” he says, but I don’t feel strong, I feel small. Reed speaks to me softly in his musical language, trying hard to comfort me while he rubs my wings.