Rise (Roam Series, Book Three) (12 page)

After a long minute, West reached for his phone. “I’m calling Violet. And then we’ll go. Eva, babe,” he tugged at her sundress, covering her tights. “This is Logan.
He’s Mommy… and Daddy’s friend.”

Logan took a few tentative steps toward her, and she smiled. “Hi,” she waved before shyly tucking her head back in West’s shoulder.

“Hi,” he replied, awestruck, raising his eyebrows. “You have pretty hair.”

She grinned, her tiny, white teeth flawlessly straight. “Like a princess.”

He chuckled. “Yes, like a princess.”

“Violet,” West’s voice on the phone drew his attention, and Logan watched the compassion fill his expression. “He’s here, but only for a few hours. Yes- he-
Vi
,” his commanding voice must have finally silenced her. “Just come over.”

Inside the house, Logan sat down, taking in the atmosphere with deep breaths. West’s house was the same structure that it was two years ago, but now every wall was lined with colorful bins of toys, stuffed animals, crayons and coloring books, and shelves holding story books. Once Eva was on her feet, she scrambled for a bookshelf, carefully choosing a
story.

“Ducks,” she looked at West first, hesitantly, before walking to Logan. He nodded.

“
Five Little Ducks
. Yeah, I remember this one. Drama, drama, drama, then they all come back at the end. Want me to read it?” Logan sat back into the couch, taking in the strangeness of being away from the castle for the first time in months.

“Read it.” She climbed up on the couch, catching West’s prompting expression. “Read it
please
.”

She eagerly turned the pages as he read the words, sometimes before he was done. West began rushing up and down the stairs,
preparing, and took a second to set a bottle of water and a sippy cup on the coffee table in front of them. “One hour.”

He nodded, the relief of freedom settling into a surprising exhaustion. “You have anything with caffeine?”

“I’ll put on some coffee. Violet just pulled in.”

Logan stood, watching through the windows as she climbed out of
a silver Audi, her white-blonde curls tossing against at her face as she ran for the porch. He beat West to the door, throwing it open.

Her eyes, a blue-gray storm, told him in one look she still loved him every bit as much as she’d claimed to have before he’d left. The force of her impact nearly knocked him backwards;
he slanted his mouth over hers, gripping her thick curls in his hands. “I thought… you’d never…,” she pulled her mouth away and hugged him, fighting a losing battle with tears. “
Logan
…,”

“We have to
go… we have to save Roam,” West interrupted their reunion. “And… Eva has to come with us.”

“No!” Violet looked to Eva, fear
evident in her eyes as she squatted and threw her arms out. The toddler ran to her older sister. “Why would you-…,”

“She’s the key, Violet,” Logan said gently, watching Violet cling to her sister. “She’s the only way we can pass through.”

“Then we go,” Laurel’s voice sounded from the doorway, and West turned to her. Logan noted that she appeared just slightly older, and realized she had begun to age again when she returned. An older version of Violet, she tucked her hands in the pocket of her light jacket. “Roam gave more than her life to save me. I’ll help any way I can, even if it’s just to care for Eva.”

Logan shook his head. “No.
Only West and Eva. I’m barely able to get them through; I can’t bring anyone else.”

“Logan!”

“Violet,” he helped her back to her feet, kissing her softly. “I’ll come back this time. But you’ll have to wait. West will need you both to take care of the house…,”

“And tell Morgan.” West hadn’t spoken to Morgan since December, and though it was her wish
to be apart, his first instinct was to call her.

“We have to go,” Logan kissed her again, his face in her hair. “Wait a little longer for me, okay?”

She nodded, pushing him away. Bending, she hugged and kissed Eva adoringly, whispering in her ear. “I love, love,
love
you
.”

“Vi,” Eva complained, pulling away from her tearful kisses. Finally, Violet stood, and West shifted a backpack over his shoulder, staring at his oldest daughter.

“West,” she arched her eyebrow, flashing angry eyes at her father. “If it comes down to choosing between Roam and Eva, you know what you have to do.
Do not let them hurt that little girl,
” she cried vehemently, pointing at Eva on the floor. “This whole world depends on her survival, right, we know that. But it will
kill me
if anything happens to her. I know you love Roam,” she brushed at the tears with the back of her hand, “and you know
I love Logan
. But no matter what,
keep Eva safe.
”

“Come here,” he folded her
into his arms, hugging her sternly. “I love you. I’ll come back with Eva, and Roam, and we’ll all be okay. Have faith.”

“Faith,” Violet scoffed, pressing her face to his shoulder. “Faith takes so freaking long.”

“I’ve missed so much of your life. I won’t do that again.”

She nodded and pulled away, turning to Logan. They sat next to Eva on the couch, talking quietly. West turned to Laurel as she moved to his side.

“What can I do?” she asked, gesturing to the house. “Just take care of the house? What else? West, I want to help.”

He stared at her, pulling her into a hug. “Take care of yourself. Violet told me that you and Michael are getting married. You need to focus on your life, and moving on.”

“Mike knows everything. We don’t have any secrets.” She tucked a curl behind her ear. “We’ll care for the house, and keep up with everything.”

“Laurel,” West pulled her aside, into the kitchen. “If… years pass,” he swallowed hard, turning to watch Violet on the couch. She and Logan clung to each other, his lips pressed to her hair. “Please help Violet move on. I don’t know when she’ll stop aging, whether it’s twenty-seven, like me, or before then. But… help her,” he finished softly as Laurel nodded.

“I will. She loves that boy… so much,” she shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know if I can watch her heart break again.”

“I will get Logan, Roam, and Eva home.
If I don’t make it through,” he raised his chin slightly, taking a calming breath, “then please, be a friend to Roam. Be there for her.”

“Of course I will. And so will Violet, and Morgan, and Logan,” she promised, gathering his face in her hands. “But you’d better come back. I’d really like to see you get some gray hair, like me.”

He chuckled softly, hugging her again. “Give my best to Michael.”

“Daddy,” Eva stood on the couch, bouncing as Logan guarded her from falling.
“Mommy’s train.”

West nodded, scooping her into his arms. He lowered his eyes to Logan, pressing his lips to Eva’s forehead. “We’re
going to ride Mommy’s train.”

“I see Mommy?”

West nodded, tucking her face against his chest.

“I brought clothing for you, and for Eva. You’ll dress as a soldier, like me, and Eva as a commoner. Will has a maid who will take care of her while-…,”

“A stranger?” Violet shot to her feet, shaking her head. “West, I’m going. I can pass as a common woman, I can blend, please,” she reached for Eva, and the toddler crawled into her sister’s waiting arms. “Please-…,”

“Violet, no.”

She gripped Eva to her chest, tears glistening in her eyes and darkening them to sapphire. “
Dad… please
. I’ve never asked you for anything.
Please
.”

Her words ripped at his conscience. He glanced at Logan, and Logan
looked between the two of them. “I can get her through. But I won’t be the one to put her in that position. Violet, you’re not immortal there.”

West kept
his steady gaze over Eva’s shoulder. Finally, he nodded. “Roam would feel better knowing that Violet was protecting Eva… and not a stranger. Logan, help me find the appropriate clothes for her.”

Violet smiled, wrapping her available arm around Logan. “
It’s okay. I saw the women there. I got this.”

“What exactly am I?”

“You are a wood nymph.” The make-up artist answered without stopping, evenly dragging the paintbrush in her hand through the olive green paint on her pallet.

Shifting only my eyes to the gown hanging from the wardrobe, I followed the lines of the tight, dark brown leather pants and matching corset beneath a theatrical gown coat. The long, thick fabric covered my shoulders and arms, spreading out at my lower back into an elaborate train. Embroidery, intricately fine, wove emeralds and diamonds into dark green, gold, and black threads.

“And his majesty?”

“Matching colors. He is a lion.”

Of course.

Will and I had spent the two weeks that Troy was gone preparing for the Masque. The sun was the theme, and nature became the premise for many of the costumes selected by the guests. Will sent Logan away to complete some kind of task, and the day he left I bordered on a nervous breakdown.

“Roam,” he tried to peel himself away from me, but I clung to him, breaking into tears.

“Please come back to me,” I cried, gripping his face in my hands. He squeezed me in his grasp, nodding into my neck.

“Nothing can stop me from coming back to you.
Nothing
,” he promised.

“I’ll be here with
her,” Will added softly, clasping Logan’s shoulder. “I won’t let her be harmed,” he assured us both.

Will only explained that Logan’s part was
imperative to his plan, and I had to be patient. If I knew too much, I would be a danger to myself near Troy.

I
confined myself to my chair by the window and cut five times that day, each time swearing it would be the last.

Will
arrived that evening at my door, insisting I come down to dinner. He presented me with a thick, leather bound book filled with lists of songs. “Now, the music is broken down into decades. My father understands that you would like to hear music from your world. Do you have a particular decade in mind?”

I stared blankly at the pages, closing the book.
“Mostly nineties. Some fifties and sixties. And no covers; only the originals.”

He grinned, nodding. “Alright then, that was easy enough.
Now, food.”

Each day, Will guarded the fencing arena while I practiced the
Kenauri-Rak for hours. With the sword in my hand, I remembered abilities from a life long past, smiling sometimes at my
Matrix
-like moves. Over and over I sliced at the air as the hot sun poured through the windows, imagining the effortless swing of the blade through Troy’s neck.

That is, if I don’t faint or burst into tears.

I understood that Will was planning some type of uprising, maybe to distract Troy while Logan and I escaped through the door. I focused on defensive moves with the sword and without, remembering the few kickboxing lessons that I had after Russia…

…
and my lesson with West in the basement of my house.

As the day of the masque approached, Troy was due to return at any time, y
et Logan still had not come back. Will found me pacing and knotting my hands in the atrium, and he pointed to the stairs. “Please try to get some rest. You need strength, and you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

I retreated to my room, laying in the big, empty bed and staring at the canopy. Within an hour, Troy’s voice carried down the hallway outside, and I
rose to my feet, throwing the door open.

He
reached for me, grinning at my eager welcome. As his mouth covered mine, I tightened my grip on his neck, pinching his skin. Dropping me to the bed, he slid over me.

In broad daylight, the numbers on my arm stood out against my pale skin, and he jerked back, wrenching my arm into his view. “What in the hell is this?”

“I don’t know. I had a dream, and woke up with the numbers.”

“A dream of what?”
he demanded, his thumb dragging over the numbers and skidding over the scabbed lacerations between them. “And who in the hell is cutting you?”

I tried to p
ull my arm away, but he held it fast. “Troy,” I stared at him blankly. “I don’t know what these numbers mean. They aren’t coordinates. An old man in my dream gave them to me, by touching my arm.”

“And the cuts?” he ordered. When I didn’t answer, he reached for the bodice of my gown, tearing it apart. I tried to turn
away, but his eyes scanned my bare skin, releasing my arm and tracing multiple, tiny cuts along my hip and side. “
Who is touching you?
”

“No one!”
I screamed, shaking my head. “And you killed Helena, and it
wasn’t her fault,
” I pushed against his shoulders with all of my strength until he backed away, standing next to the bed. Pulling my torn dress together, I tried to cover myself.