Aequus Page 20

  “The glamour wears off, Freya,” Zander interjects. “In the light of the morning, Tristan would have discovered you weren’t Serena. What were you planning then?”

  “By then, it would have been too late.”

  Tristan’s eyes narrow. “Meaning?”

  “I just needed you to sleep with me. To tell me once that you loved me, and then the mark would have switched to me, instead of Serena. Don’t you see? You think you love her. You’ve walked away from your family and realm for her. But it’s okay, I understand. You’re under the influence of the prophecy. But if I bear your mark, you will love me in the same manner that you love her. We can go back, Tristan. With my father gone, I can rule the water realm and you the woodland in peace. Together. You will love me as you do her. I promise. This was all for you. To show you how much I love you. Even after you’ve destroyed my realm and took away my family, I still love you. In time, with Serena gone, and me marked, you will love me as well.”

  Tristan’s face softens as he nods his understanding.

  Zander releases me and I take a step toward Tristan, relieved he’s agreed to all of this. “With me there is peace and light. With her there is only war and darkness.”

  Without a word, Tristan turns, giving me his back. After a moment, Ryker leans in to make sure he’s okay and the sound of metal being unsheathed fills the room as Tristan pulls out Ryker’s dagger, spins, and drives it into my heart.

  Tristan leans into my face. “Wherever your soul lands after this, may you go knowing that Serena is the one I am fated to be with. In her love, I find peace.”

  My wide-eyed gaze locks on him, as I gurgle blood and fight for breath. With every bit of strength I have left, I smile, as the glamour disappears, revealing my true self.

  With my last breath I deliver my final blow to him in a barely understandable whisper, “Serena was always fated to die at Asmodeus’s hand. And now, she has met her fate.”

  Serena

  AFTER SEVERAL ATTEMPTS, I OPEN MY eyes, gasping, desperate for air. My body is drenched in sweat, and I try to get my mind to clear, catch up, and assemble the pieces of the puzzle that has led me here. Wherever that may be.

  My gaze darts around wildly, taking in my surroundings. I don’t recall how I got here. The last thing I remember is the feel of Tristan’s lips against mine before my mind went fuzzy and my body shut down, slipping into darkness. The unfamiliar bed I’m lying in crushes any hope that this nightmare isn’t real.

  The pitch darkness of the room makes it difficult to see, and my gargoyle vision feels like it’s on the fritz.

  Strangely, I can’t feel any of my gift’s essences, or even my bond with Tristan.

  Panic grips me. More so at the thought of my link to Tristan being gone than anything else. I inhale. My body feels heavy, as if I’ve been drugged. When I swallow, I notice dryness in my throat and the taste of coffee on my tongue.

  Coffee.

  Maria.

  My body becomes stone cold at the thought.

  The office. She handed me the coffee and I drank it. I promise myself I’ll snap her neck for this the next time I see her. By the grace, does Tristan even know I’m gone? He must by now, although I have no idea how long it has been.

  Low voices filter through the wall. They must be coming from another room attached to this one. A female and male voice. The language being spoken is unfamiliar to me, but I’m relieved that my heightened hearing is still intact.

  An ache rolls over me as I try to force myself to sit up. My head feels as though it weighs a thousand pounds. The heaviness of it almost makes me want to pretend that nothing is happening, go back to sleep, and wait for Tristan or my clan to come save me. My heart and head, though, ignore my suffering body. Whatever fate has in store for me, this darkened room is not it. I need to fight for survival because whatever Maria is up to, it can’t be good.

  I need to escape before anyone comes in here. My lashes flicker a few more times, trying to clear my drug-blurred vision. Slowly, my sharp protector sight returns, allowing me to see I’m in an empty, four-walled room with only a mattress on the floor. I try to push myself up, but my arms won’t comply. The pressure around my limbs is so heavy that I almost give up. Almost.

  As my anxiety mounts, adrenaline spikes through my blood and with a final effort, I sit up, my breathing labored. What the hell did that crazy nightmare of a bitch give me?

  I look around in a desperate search for a way out. There is no door. Only smooth walls. Damn it. I sigh and close my eyes, envisioning being out of this room. Almost instantly, I feel the warm air shift around me and suddenly, I’m sitting in a hallway, no longer in the room on the mattress.

  Confused, I look around. Did I just teleport? Holy shit! How did I do that? Blowing out a quick breath, I envision my suite at the Academy. After a few failed attempts, I give up. If I want to find a way out of this place I need to focus more on escaping and not on why the hell I just teleported.

  With every ounce of strength in me, I roll and push off the ground, getting myself up into a standing position. My palms press flat on the wall as my vision swims and I become light-headed. I close my eyes and take in a few deep breaths.

  As I stumble through the darkness of the shadowy passage, the smell of sulfur assaults my nose. I attempt to hold onto the wall for support, but the dim bass vibrations, mixed with a loud buzzing sound coming from an overhead light, is making me even more dizzy than before.

  I manage two steps before I fold over and empty the contents of my stomach in a heave on the thin, worn-out carpet beneath my feet. My head pounds and all I want to do is collapse again and shut my eyes.

  Definitely drugged.

  My arms and legs are heavy, and my mind is sluggish as I continue to force myself to move forward. Everything surrounding me is bathed in a deep burgundy hue. The color, mixed with the thumping sound, is playing tricks on my eyes as I search for a way out of the unfamiliar place.

  A sharp pain in my face causes my hand to lift to my mouth. When I pull it away, blood coats my fingertips—I stare at the crimson color and wonder how I got a cut lip.

  I can’t remember.

  Anything.

  My knees are about to give out again, but I fight through it and keep standing. I try to take another deep breath, convincing myself that I can find a way out of wherever I am, but without signs or doors or windows my hope is becoming less and less of a reality.

  Pain grabs my lungs and squeezes them. A cracked gasp pushes its way out of my broken ribs. I know they’ll heal soon, but fuck it’s painful in the now. When did I break ribs?

  A steel wall at the end of the hallway catches my eye. Fighting through the agony, I manage to stagger forward, faltering with each pathetic step.

  When I have only two steps left, I lunge for it and place my hands and forehead on the steel. Breathing heavily. Shit.

  As I sway, I notice the cool iron under my fingers is a door. With a great deal of effort, I try to push it open.

  It doesn’t move. Not even an inch.

  I growl in frustration, close my eyes, and focus on taking even breaths. The air around me shifts again, and suddenly I’m on the other side of the door, in a dark alley.

  Cold, fresh air hits me as I stumble into the concrete alleyway, away from where I escaped. My body folds over and I throw up again in the street from all the effort I exerted. Once I’m done, I lean on a brick wall across from the door. The noise, along with the hustle and bustle of a city, echoes in my ears. I study the steel exit and notice there are no signs on it. Where the hell am I?

  Adrenaline only rallies my system as I realize it doesn’t matter. I’m free. I need to keep moving. “Third time’s a charm,” I whisper into the cold evening air, and close my eyes, envisioning a forest. Within seconds, I disappear and reappear in a park. I release a humorless laugh at the fact that not only did I teleport on command, but that I can now.

  Quickening my pace as best I can, I trip as I make my way
through the darkness. I hold on to tree branches as I go. They offer their protection like strong arms ready to lift me. My instinct to survive drives every wobbly step I take.

  Tristan crosses my mind. He’s going to feel so betrayed and deceived when he discovers what Maria did.

  No matter how much my heart refuses to give up on the love that binds me to him, a sinking feeling settles in my gut that I won’t see him again—ever. I chastise myself for thinking this way and keep going for a few more minutes.

  Needing to rest, I collapse under the safety of a tall oak tree. Pins and needles pierce my entire body, worsening with every breath I take. The bottomless abyss of pain devouring me from the inside makes continuing unbearable.

  After a brief time out, the desperate desire to get back to Tristan makes me ignore the pain and focus on moving forward. Before I force myself to stand, I notice the scrapes and bruises on my legs.

  “I wonder why I am not healing as quickly as before,” I mutter under my breath to myself.

  “The drugs they injected in you are why you can’t heal,” a velvety smooth voice answers.

  My world tilts again as I look around for the voice’s owner. An incredibly sexy, African American vision of beauty steps out from the shadows of the trees.

  His chocolate eyes look me over with sympathy.

  “With the amount in your system, you should be dead.”

  “Dead. Are you an angel?” I slur, fighting to stay awake.

  The twenty-something guy releases a warm chuckle and his eyes twinkle as he watches me. “No. Definitely not.”

  The heaviness in my head is taking over as it falls back against the tree’s bark and I laugh for no reason. “Do you know Lady Sequoia?” I ask, reminded of her smooth trunk.

  “Not personally,” the stranger replies and winks.

  “Did you just . . . wink at me?” I babble, feeling drunk.

  “I did. It’s my thing.”

  Now that I’ve stopped running, I can’t move.

  Hottie steps forward and crouches in front of me before he looks around, assessing our surroundings.

  “You’re very brave, princess,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair off my face, “to have escaped as you did.”

  “I am,” I agree, dazed. “B-T-W, I hate that title.”

  His lips pull into a small smile. “No doubt.”

  “I need to sleep.” My eyes flutter open and closed.

  His mouth is suddenly at my ear. “I’m sorry we have to do this, Serena,” he apologizes, sounding sad.

  My half-lidded eyes are blurring in and out of focus as I attempt to maintain my grasp on reality.

  “How do you know my name?” I drone.

  Another man steps out of the shadows with a syringe in his hand. He crouches next to the dark stranger and gently takes my wrist, pushing my sleeve up before turning my arm over. I don’t struggle, because I physically can’t.

  With his teeth the second stranger pulls the cap off the syringe. With an apologetic look, he forces the needle into my arm. It breaks through the skin, burrowing into my vein. I want to fight, tell him to stop, but I don’t.

  Heat rushes into my veins.

  I cry out and my vision continues to swim.

  Everything dims and unconsciousness takes over my body, pulling me into the deepest depths of the darkness.

  Zander

  TRISTAN IS ANGRY. THAT MIGHT NOT be the right word. Then again, what is the right word for how you feel when the reason for your existence is gone? Vanished without a trace.

  My brother’s tension, anger, and fear assaults the air around us. I take Magali’s hand as we sit in the hallway of her suite, outside the bedroom Tristan is in the process of destroying with his bare hands. And even though I know she isn’t, she looks fragile—lost without her best friend.

  In silence, we watch my brother as he falls apart, his world crashing down around him. There’s no sense in trying to stop him from destroying everything around him.

  He needs this outlet, to breathe. To exist without her.

  These past two days have been dark.

  The light in him is gone, replaced by emptiness and rage. Behind his eyes is nothing—except fear.

  Fear is the one that scares me the most.

  Emptiness and rage can be channeled, but his fear—it leaves him vulnerable and weak. Devastated.

  It’s been forty-eight hours since Freya died with Asmodeus’s name on her lips. Tristan and I, along with Serena’s friends, have torn apart the entire world searching for her over the last two days. With no leads. No rest. No food. All we’ve done is search for Serena.

  And Maria, who is also nowhere to be found.

  And here we are.

  Empty-handed.

  And running out of time.

  Overpowered by the need to console my brother, I look up and am disappointed to find him struggling to breathe. Her absence is like a noose around his neck, choking him.

  Tristan’s eyes flash to mine as he throws the last piece of intact furniture—a lamp—against the wall with a roar.

  It shatters into a million pieces on the floor and I imagine the shards of glass match the state of his heart.

  Ireland and Ryker walk into the hallway and nod to me.

  Understanding, I stand and hand Magali over to Ryker for safekeeping. He pulls her into an embrace as Ireland rubs her back in comfort.

  Knowing she’s in good hands, I take a step into Serena’s bedroom and close the door behind me, taking in the mess—both the room and Tristan.

  I let out a low whistle, looking around. “Too bad Maria is missing,” I joke, stepping on the broken wood that was once a bed. “This place is a disaster.”

  He ignores me.

  I stare at my brother.

  Incapable of taking my eyes off him.

  A dark, dangerous energy grips his heart.

  He’s lost.

  And right now, I feel as though he’ll be lost forever.

  Tristan’s muscles flex as he clenches his fists at his side, haunted in this room by Serena. Her scent. Her essence.

  “I can’t do this anymore,” his voice cracks, as he chokes out the words. “I feel like I’m dying without her.”

  “I know.”

  “No. You don’t,” he clips out.

  A fresh pain slices through him and he covers his heart.

  I tense and cringe, watching him suffer.

  “What do you want me to do here, Tristan?”

  “Bring her back. Just . . . fucking bring her back.”

  Devastated by the anguish in his voice, I flinch. I would give anything to give my brother what he’s asking of me.

  Anything.

  Tristan sinks to the floor, exhausted.

  With his elbows leaning on his knees, he drops his face into his hands and pulls his hair. Crouching in front of him, I make my brother promises I know I can’t possibly keep.

  “We’ll find her,” I use a reassuring tone. “But you can’t go on like you have been. We need to come up with a strategy and focus our efforts. We’ve been running around blind, man. Maybe . . . maybe it’s time—”

  Tristan’s tear-stained face lifts and his bloodshot eyes pin mine. “No.” The word is final and deadly.

  My lips flatten in a grim line. “I don’t know how else to save you from drowning in the darkness like this.”

  “Save me?” he snorts. “I already feel like my life is over. That everything I ever was is now twisted and out of place.” His icy, lifeless eyes meet mine. “There is no saving me.”

  “I know you’re losing your shit here, Tristan, but it’s not helping. Destroying her room won’t bring her back.”

  “WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?” he shouts. “I can’t feel her, our bond, anymore.”

  My palms become slick with sweat at his meaning. If he can’t feel her, it’s possible Serena doesn’t exist anymore.

  “Stop.” The word catches in my throat because I’ve never seen him like this.


  He’s always been the strong, stoic one.

  Nothing ever bothers him.

  He isn’t afraid of anything.

  Except losing her.

  He’s terrified of existing without Serena.

  “I want her home,” he whispers.

  My expression turns sad.

  “I know you do. We’ll find her and bring her home.”

  “I can’t breathe anymore without her.”

  “Hang on, just a little longer, man. You can do it.”

  Tristan sighs and nods his head.

  “You need rest. Maybe a shower and food.”

  “You’re right. I’m so drained I can’t even teleport anymore,” he says, rubbing his hands over his drawn face.

  “If I were you, I’d also clean up this shit. When Serena does get back, she’s going to be pissed off that you destroyed her room. And in your current pathetic state, I’m pretty sure she’ll kick your ass.” I attempt to make him smile.

  Something flashes in his eyes at my words—resolve.

  Knowing he heard me, I pat his shoulder.

  Tristan’s hand snaps out and he yanks me into a tight hug. I hold him tightly as he clings to me like I’m a lifeline.

  We don’t talk. No words are needed between us.

  A short time later, he takes in a deep breath and lets go.

  “Thank you,” he whispers.

  “You’re my brother. I love you, Tristan.” I reach up and, trying to act natural and easy, sweep my hair out of my eyes.

  His empty eyes fixate on me with fiery intensity, narrowing in annoyance. “Set up the meeting.”

  I nod.

  I know how hard it was for him to come to this decision and ask this of me. Proof he’ll do anything for Serena.

  I step out of the tense room into the quiet hallway and close the door gently behind me. I lean back against it, slide down and hang my head between my knees. Worried.

  Actually, that is a lie.

  I’m fucking terrified.

  I have no idea how to help Tristan.

  I’ve never experienced this type of love or devastation.

  But I know someone who has.

  Tristan

  FATE IS A FUNNY THING. IT waits for us. Hidden deep within the shadows, wrapped in darkness, planning its strike.