Just Breathe (46 page)

“Gavin Cassidy?” the Dreamweaver said.

He startled out of his reverie. “I’m no longer a member of this Council.”

She tilted her head to the side. “In the wake of recent events, it seems to me you never left it. What say you?”

A strange blend of pride and horror flushed his system. Back on the Council? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he couldn’t keep the Dreamweaver waiting.

He met Ellie’s steely, unapologetic eyes. The power of the four Elements coursed through him, returning color and life to the tattoos on his arms. Her actions had sentenced thousands to death, including the man who’d been like a father to him. “On Yileen’s behalf, I no longer acknowledge you as a Sentinel.” He turned away slowly, savoring the moment.

“As punishment for crimes committed against humanity, you are hereby stripped of all Sentinel rights and powers. You will forfeit your earthly body in payment for the many Wyldlings you neglected, and your soul shall remain caged here in the Dreaming for eternity.”

“No, Dreamweaver, please—”

The enigmatic woman spread her hands in a wide arc. Bolts of white light shot past the Sentinels to where Ellie stood behind them, cutting short her pleas. The thud of Ellie’s body crumbling to the ground followed. The Dreamweaver glided through the air to the center of the circle. Gavin dared not look, but light danced from that direction for several seconds. Then she said, “Face me.”

The Sentinels collectively did as they were told. Ellie’s body was gone, but the Dreamweaver held an odd-shaped sphere about the size of a tennis ball containing what Gavin could only guess was her soul. On closer inspection, he realized the object was actually a human heart, still beating, but very weakly. Swirls of dark color warred inside it.

Reduced to a mass of hatred, greed, jealousy, and anger, Ellie was no better than the Fyres she’d used to gain the station she only held for a fleeting moment in the big scheme. Poetic justice, as far as Gavin was concerned.

“The Dreaming has always been the exclusive home of Wyldlings. We kept Elementals out in order to protect our charges. But with the gates to the Dreaming flung open, you will no longer be able to fulfill your roles. Perhaps the time has come to re-evaluate Sentinel laws.” The Dreamweaver looked at her frail, stick-like arms. The torture she must’ve endured inside that tank… Gavin shivered.

“You mean allow the Elementals to stay?” Disbelief punctuated Wyland’s clipped words.

“Would it be worse than constantly fighting to keep them out?” Erin said. “Even if we
could
kick them out, who’s to say they wouldn’t find another way in?”

Kai’s head popped up. “If we set new rules in place and worked with the four Archelementals to ensure they were followed, the Sentinels could act as the enforcers we’ve always been, but expand our territory into the Dreaming in a permanent capacity.”

“That would require many more recruits,” Wyland said. “We’re short on man power as it is.”

Kai stepped forward. “If the Dreamweaver negotiated with the Archelementals, things might run more efficiently. We know the Elementals want to feed here—it’s no different from what they do in Realis. Why not set up new laws limiting how much they can take? Police both realms. Have the Archies punish any rule breakers themselves. Yes, we’d have to work out contingencies and be flexible until we get the lay of the land, but it’s
doable
.”

A soft breeze darted through the group, ruffling robes and hair.

“Gavin was our leader before…her.” Seth nodded to the heart in the Dreamweaver’s hands. “I move that he be reinstated.”

What? No. He
so
didn’t want to get tangled up in Sentinel politics again. He’d fucked things up enough.

Gavin started to protest, but the Dreamweaver stared at him expectantly. The weight of her gaze suggested she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Refusal would be like telling Queen Elizabeth you weren’t interested in knighthood.

Shit.

He didn’t want to offend her, especially after the hell the Fyres had put her through. He studied his peers’ auras. They were angry, betrayed, hurt by Ellie’s actions. He was, too. Yileen had
died
because of her.

For whatever reason, the old man had wanted Gavin to lead. Out of respect for his mate but against his better judgment, he reluctantly agreed. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

The councilors nodded and slowly dispersed, leaving Gavin alone on the beach with the Dreamweaver.

“I’m very sorry for what you endured in captivity under the Fyres. And I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner.” He bowed his head.

She closed the gap between them and lifted his chin with fingers that were neither warm nor cold, but all magic. “Yileen chose well.”

A chill crawled over his skin at the mention of his lost friend’s name. Gods, he missed the old fucker. He should’ve been here to lead. Gavin would never be able to fill Yileen’s shoes.

He met her hypnotic eyes—a mixture of red, yellow, green, and blue. Unfathomable power there. Neither the Sentinels nor humanity could afford to lose her again.

“Thank you. I wish you well, Dreamweaver.”

She might have smiled. He wasn’t sure. Her form shimmered, paled, and ghosted away like breath on a cold day.

His muse’s tinkling laughter caught his attention, and he headed back to her. Surrounded by whales, she was a queen before them. They nuzzled her with their monstrous noses and splashed her with massive flippers. One seemed intent on giving her a ride.

What secrets did she share with them and they with her? Blond strands stuck to her cheeks. She never stopped smiling. The love she felt for them was evident.

Jealousy got the better of him. He swam to her side and hooked his arms around her waist. “You’ve had quite a night, Zed.”

“Indeed, I have.” Her hands rested on his shoulders, and she gazed into his eyes. “But it was worth every minute.”

She tackled his lips, and Water enshrouded them. He had his muse. And they were okay.

He held her tight against his chest and stroked her back. “It’s time to go back to Realis.”

She looked up at him. Her aura beamed a stunning array of colors boasting confidence, contentment, and happiness. After this drama, he needed an entire week alone with her on a deserted island.

Her legs curled around his under the water. He laid his palms on her cheeks, let his lips hover over hers in a slow-motion tease, and whispered, “Wake up.”

He kissed her softly.

Zoe’s lids drifted shut…

* * * *

…Zoe opened her eyes to the image of the man she loved leaning over her, lips locked on hers, just as they’d been in the Dreaming. She snaked her arms around his neck in a lazy wake-up stretch and grinned through the kiss, which quickly evolved into a long series of kisses. Not that she minded. At all.

“We did it,” she said, her voice a bit raspy.

“Yes, we did.” Oh God, that gorgeous rock star smile. The messy hair. Jesus, she had plans for giving him some major bed head in the coming weeks.

Gavin’s gritty voice and guitar screamed to life from her cell on the bedside table. Annoyed by the distraction, she rolled left and grabbed the phone. Shit, it was five in the morning. “Hello?”

“Thank God you’re okay,” Randy said. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours. After the riots last night, I was worried.”

“I’m fine. What’s up?”

“The Board held an emergency meeting. Considering recent events—the research house fire, Iri going missing, and the state of emergency Down Under—they’ve deemed Australia unsafe. They want the team to come home. You’re booked on the 6:50 flight tonight.”

Zoe straightened. “No! You can’t do that. Everyone’s okay here.” Her heart pounded out of its normal rhythm as her gaze fell on Gavin’s questioning face.

“What is it?” he whispered, touching her hand.

She shook her head. Randy couldn’t do this to her. She wasn’t ready to leave Gavin. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. No. Just, no.

“The Board won’t compromise on this one, Zoe. It’s clear from the news reports you’re not safe in Australia. No one is. Get on that plane tonight.”

“Or what?” She tightened her grip on the phone.

“Or you don’t have a job. Christ, this is an OSHA lawsuit waiting to happen. You’ve had nothing but trouble since you got there, and now the entire country is under marital law. Read the writing on the wall. The Board won’t budge, and neither will I.”

She drew in a sharp breath. Randy had wanted this all along. “But, the whales…”

“Come home, Zoe.”

Home. Los Angeles wasn’t home. Gavin was. Tears sprung and trickled down her cheeks. A pair of beautifully painted arms hugged her.

“I’ll see you when I see you.” She ended the call and leaned into Gavin. Her rock. Her love. Her home.

“When do you leave?” His voice wasn’t angry or even sad. It was strong and supportive.

“Tonight.”

He sighed, his soft breath sweeping over her hair. “I’ll take you to the airport.”

She couldn’t read his expression, but the protective way he held her said everything his face didn’t. He didn’t want her to go. He understood why she had to. He wanted her to be happy.

Her mind dashed back and forth, unable to settle. Could she give up everything she’d ever wanted to be with the man she loved but couldn’t sleep beside? She’d only known him a couple of months, and a big chunk of that time had been spent in her dreams. The whales had been with her since childhood. She’d be just as miserable without them as she’d be without him.

God. She didn’t know what to do.

“I need some time to think.”

He nodded slowly. “I understand.”

Their eyes locked, and through the deep blue connection they shared, she received a simple but very clear message: he loved her, but he’d be lost without her.

Ditto.

Chapter Forty-seven

Mind reeling from the bomb Zoe had dropped, Gavin drove up and down the streets of Hervey Bay, no destination in mind. Just when everything had fallen into place, the bottom fell out and splattered at his feet. He’d counted on having at least another month to convince her to stay. Had been certain he could. Now? Not so much.

Guilting Zoe into staying would only bring resentment. It
had
to be her decision with no interference from him. And if she chose to leave, he’d respect her wishes, regardless of the fact that it would kill him.

His phone rang.

“Hello?”

“G’day, mate. It’s Kaden. I’m at the hospital. Thought you’d like to know Trevor’s come ’round. He’s woken from the coma and is talking.”

“That’s bloody good news. I’ll head over now.” He switched lanes and turned in the direction of the hospital. “Did he say anything about what happened?”

“No, claims he doesn’t remember a thing.”

Thank the gods. The less Trevor recalled, the better. “Well, that’s what happens when you drink yourself into the ground.”

“Yeah, man. See you shortly.”

The conversation ended, and Gavin’s thoughts diverted to Camira’s son. The kid was most likely at the same hospital as Trevor. A visit with Camira might be a good distraction. She could probably use a little empathy right now.

Ten minutes later, he stood beside Trevor’s bed. Well, at least one good thing came out of this shit day. Trevor was alive and would recuperate. The doctors said it would take some time, but he should be back to full steam in a month or two. Gavin and Trevor had never gotten on, but after the drummer’s close call with death—thanks to Gavin’s association with Scarlet—that would change. No more putting his mates in danger. No more taking people for granted. The record company would have to deal with delaying the release of the band’s new album.

After paying his respects, Gavin wound down the corridor to Camira’s son’s room. He rapped three times.

“Come in.” Camira’s voice was a vast, empty echo.

Gavin opened the door and stepped in. Camira sat beside the bed, holding her boy’s still hand. Tubes wove in and out of his body. A pump forced oxygen into his lungs in a steady, mechanical rhythm.

A fleeting glimmer of surprise flashed in Camira’s eyes. He was probably the last person she expected to see here.

“What did the doctors say about Killara’s condition?” he asked.

She screwed up her mouth and shook her head. “Machines only things keeping him alive. His body live, but his spirit…” She wiped away a tear and faced the window.

Gavin squatted beside her oversized hospital chair. “I’m so sorry, Camira.”

She choked in a lungful of air. “His name, it mean ‘always here.’ We give him that name because he strong. He fight to live when inside my womb.” She glanced at her stomach. “He almost die then, but his determination overcome it. Always strong. Until now.”

He took her hand. “This wasn’t his fault. What happened doesn’t make him any less strong. He’s still here.”

“No. He gone. You see it in his aura. The breath of life…gone.”

Though he wanted to be positive for her, Gavin couldn’t deny Killara’s aura. Most of the color had leached out. It wouldn’t be long. A deep well of sadness bore into his soul. So many lives ended. So many sacrifices made. So much pain.

The Fyres left an entire country in ruins. Families had been shattered. Love had been lost.

Eager to comfort her but unsure how else to do it, he unclasped Yileen’s necklace with its silent footprint and wrapped the leather around Camira’s trembling fingers. “I want you to have this. It was your great-uncle’s. Doesn’t feel right for me to keep it any longer.”

She lifted her gaze to his, a question shrouding her eyes. He nodded.

A light twinkled from within the ancient moonstone. He and Camira both stiffened. What the—

The glow brightened, illuminating the room. Camira stood and held the necklace over the bed. “Uncle?”

Though the shine was nondescript white light, the impression Gavin got from the stone was one hundred percent Yileen. Memories of the day his mentor said his final goodbye clutched Gavin’s mind, refusing to let go. He felt the same warmth now that had ghosted between them then.