Stone Cold Seduction (20 page)

“Where’s Elle?” I heard Teryl ask. The door was made of hard wood, but the walls were paper thin.

“She’s tired and resting,” Jax replied.

I heard MacLean’s voice, but couldn’t make out his words as they moved farther down the hall. I needed a change of clothes, some money, and the token. The visit to Carys would happen tonight. I wasn’t going to wait another hour, let alone another day.

I threw my suitcase on the bed and grabbed a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved top. A shower would have been heaven, but I didn’t have time. I quickly changed and grabbed my purse, scanning the contents.

Token? Check. Money? Check. Cell phone? Check.

Nerves? Shaky, at best. But I had to do this.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

I was as ready as I’d ever be.

I managed to make it to the front desk with no sign of the guys. If I got caught, I would tell them I’d changed my mind and wanted dinner. Hopefully, I wouldn’t get caught. I was pretty sure they’d all freak out when they realized I was gone. Teryl would be able to find me, but by his own admission, he could only do an approximate guess, and it would be within thirty minutes of when I’d last been there. I’d take all of the head start I could get.

Pasting a smile on my face, I approached the front desk clerk. “Hi, I was wondering if you could help me. My friends went out to dinner, and I decided to head over to Skye by myself. What’s the best way for me to get there?”

The clerk was an older gentleman. I put him in his mid-fifties. His smile was open and friendly, and he had a strong, Scottish brogue. “This time of night, you’ll need to take a taxi.” He called one for me, and told me to be careful.

I smiled and thanked him. He had no idea how careful I needed to be.

There weren’t many people out and about as I waited out front for the taxi. I could hear music and laughter spilling out from the pub across the street. I sat on the stone steps, while a dozen different scenarios whirled through my mind.

When the taxi finally pulled up, I was having second thoughts. My legs felt like lead as I slid into the back seat and asked the driver to take me to Skye.

“Where in Skye?”

Good question. I didn’t have an address or a clue where to start looking. If what Teryl said was true, Carys would know I was coming. So, I smiled and said, “The best pub you know of.”

He laughed and took off. I settled back into my seat, and the fake smile dropped off my face.

I gazed at the black waters of Loch Ness as the taxi traveled over the Skye Bridge, which connected Scotland to the Isle of Skye. The water looked sinister in the dark of the night. Trepidation shivered down my spine and I tried to shake it off. It was too late to turn back. I leaned my head against the cool window as the taxi lumbered its way through the streets. How long would it take me to find her?

All I could hope for was enough of a head start to get there before the guys noticed I was gone. And before the hunters arrived.

I rubbed at my chest. I’d forgotten about the bond. What if Jax felt it, too? The dull, persistent ache became more pronounced as the miles passed. I silently prayed for enough time. I had to do this on my own. I wanted to talk to Carys without the overwhelming presence of the testosterone trio.

After two hours of driving, which was two hours too long to be alone with my thoughts, the taxi pulled in front of a pub with people lingering outside. “Here you are, lass. The best pub on the Isle.”

I pulled out a few big bills to cover the fare and a generous tip. “Thank you.”

He tipped his cap and drove off. I watched the taxi’s taillights until they winked out of sight. My last escape route was gone.

A few people walked in and out of the front door of the pub, laughing and talking in their lovely accents. I couldn’t prevent a small smile when I saw two men in kilts.

“Elleodora Fredricks?”

I froze, hearing footsteps come up behind me. The female voice was unfamiliar. The accent was Scottish, so I knew it wasn’t Maura. Still, that didn’t make me feel better.

I slowly turned, pivoting on my heel. The woman behind me was about my age. She had short, blonde hair, cropped in a pixie cut. Thin as a reed, she stood an inch or two shorter than I am. The darkness obscured most of her features, but I could feel the weight of her gaze.

“Elleodora Fredricks?” she repeated.

“Yes,” I replied, waiting.

“You’re here to see Carys.”

I nodded. “How did you…”

She turned and walked away at a brisk pace.

“…know?” I finished. With a shrug, I followed. So far, this was easy.

She stopped in front of a car and with a curt wave, gestured me to the passenger side. “Get in.”

“Not a chance. Who are you?”

“Gwen,” was the brusque response.

I didn’t move.

She heaved a sigh and folded her arms across her chest in obvious agitation. “There is not time to waste. My mother wants to meet you, and it must be now.”

“Carys is your mom?”

“Yes, now get in.” She opened her door and got behind the wheel, her movements impatient.

I obliged and slid into the passenger seat of the small car. Gwen didn’t say another word. Her driving was quick and efficient.

“So,” I said, hoping to break the ice, “you must be an oracle, too.”

She cut me a disgusted look, then her eyes went back to the road.

Okay, then. “I hope your mom doesn’t mind my late visit.”

“She has been waiting for you.” I saw Gwen look in her rear view mirror, then back to the road. “She would have come to get you herself, but she doesn’t leave the house.” She stopped and pressed her lips together.

I desperately wanted to ask,
why not
? Instead, I said, “Thank you for picking me up.”

She pulled in front of a small cottage, and hit the brakes with a little more force than necessary. “Don’t thank me. I did this for my mother. I wish you were still in America. You don’t belong here.”

Well, that was blunt.

She flung her door open and jumped out.

It was too late for me to waste energy on regrets, but this wasn’t going at all like I’d planned.

Gwen walked around the front of the car and stared at the cottage. “Something’s wrong,” she whispered.

I stared at the cottage, too. It was one and a half stories, and was made of stone. A dim light shone in a side window, but the rest of the place was dark. She walked slowly up the stone path, then stopped and tilted her head, like she was listening for something.

“What is it?” I whispered. I didn’t hear or see anything.

“Someone was here.” Her voice wavered.

Dread tightened my chest.

Gwen moved to the front door and pushed it open. “Mother?” she called, her voice loud, but tentative.

I stood right behind her, gazing into the small cottage. The furnishings were modern and pretty. There was definitely a feminine touch to the décor, and the small living space was charming. Or it would have been, under different circumstances.

We both jumped at the loud thump, like the sound of a door slamming. Gwen started running through the house, toward the back, and I followed on her heels. We skidded to a stop in the small, open kitchen. The back door was still shaking on its hinges.

A low, keening wail filled the room. Bile rose in my throat and blackness swam at the edge of my vision. I blindly reached for the wall, needing the support.

A woman sprawled face down on the floor in the middle of the small kitchen. Long, silvery blonde hair spilled around her in a tangled mess. Her long, green dress was twisted around her.

Gwen was on her knees beside the woman, shaking her. “Mother! No! Wake up!”

Blood pooled underneath the woman. Her hands were curled into fists and she lay at an awkward angle, like she had crumpled and fallen where she stood. I could only see the side of her face, and her eyes were closed. She looked like she could have been sleeping, but there was too much blood.

Nausea rose, and I turned away and stumbled back toward the front door, leaving Gwen with her grief. I ran blindly out of the house, sucking in air as I began to hyperventilate.

Déjà vu crawled over me, in the most horrific of forms. It was exactly like my mother, minus the bullet hole through the forehead. I didn’t know where Carys’ blood had come from. Maybe she’d been shot in the back. Maybe she’d been bashed in the back of the head.

Maybe I was going to vomit. Now.

Bent over at the waist, I barely noticed when a hand gently rubbed my back. I could hear footsteps rush past us and into the house. Male voices mixed with Gwen’s sobs.

“Damn it, Elle, why’d you have to come by yourself?”

I slowly straightened and blinked at Teryl, my eyes wet with tears. “Carys is dead.”

And somehow, I knew it was my fault.

Chapter Fourteen

Jax and MacLean moved Carys upstairs to her bedroom at Gwen’s request. I sat with Gwen and Teryl in the small living room while they cleaned the blood off the kitchen floor. In the light of the room, I could see Gwen’s brilliant eyes. They were purple—honest to God purple—and full of tears. Her features were soft and plain, but her eyes were beautiful. She stared at the wall, face slack with shock.

I felt the same way. I grasped for some sense of calm as awful memories wrestled with the horror of the present. Something inside me had cracked when I’d seen Carys on the floor. Gwen was living her grief while I relived mine.

My father had murdered Carys. I knew it. I also knew it was a message for me. He was in Scotland, regardless of what Teryl said. Carys was a warning, meant to play on my fear. I didn’t think my father knew about my growing magic. If he did, I was sure he would have found some way to take advantage of them. Or maybe he had, and that’s why he wanted me dead.

Regardless, I wouldn’t be underestimated again.

MacLean walked by, barking orders into his cell phone. He went out the front door as Jax walked downstairs toward us.

Cool, gray eyes stared down at me. “Why did you leave?” he asked simply.

Fortunately, Gwen wasn’t paying us the slightest bit of attention, and Teryl was busy doing his oracle thing. I stood and pulled Jax over to the other side of the room.

“I had to. It was something I needed and wanted to do on my own.” My gaze wandered toward the kitchen and the crimson stain on the floor, which was only feet away. “If it makes a difference, I wish I hadn’t.”

Jax didn’t say a word as he drew me in for a hug. The security of his arms was warm, but I still felt the wall between us. He hadn’t been honest about our history, and I didn’t know where that left us. Unfortunately, we now had bigger issues to deal with.

I stepped away. Jax let his arms fall to his sides, and I saw a flash of pain on his face before his usual, unreadable mask was back in place. I turned to Gwen and walked over to kneel in front of her.

“Gwen,” I said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“She was fine when I left. She knew you were coming and sent me to pick you up.” Clear and direct, those purple eyes locked onto mine. She drew in a ragged breath, trying to gain her composure. “Mother asked me to hurry. She must have known.”

Jax walked over and held out a crumpled piece of paper. “We found this in her hand.”

Gwen stared at the paper for a few seconds before taking it. She smoothed it out and read it aloud. “
Gwen, Elleodora seeks knowledge. Help her. This has gone too far.
”

Gwen looked up from the page. “What did you want from my mother?”

My purse hung from my shoulder, so I reached inside and pulled out the small gift. Somehow, I knew it belonged to Gwen now. I offered it to her while I stayed kneeling in front of her chair. “A token. A scent to remind you of your mother. I’m searching for my fate. It was withheld from me and things are…”

I struggled to find the right word, but couldn’t. “I’m sorry about your mother. Souls have gone missing, my magic is confusing, and I only wanted to find my fate. I had no idea… My mother was killed, too. I wanted to prevent this from happening to anyone else. I’m so, so sorry.”

Gwen’s face turned white. “You’re the one.”

I wiped a hand across my cheek and looked at Jax in confusion. He wasn’t looking at me, though. He’d gone still in that predatory way, and I saw streaks of silver in his eyes.

Worried, I looked back at Gwen. “The one? What do you mean?”

She reached out a shaky hand and touched my shoulder. “She talked about you all the time. Never told me your name, but she said…she said you would come, and everything would change.”

I blanched. “This isn’t a Luke Skywalker, Darth Vader type of moment, is it? Where the fate of the galaxy is all in my hands?”

Teryl choked on a laugh, and even Gwen’s eyes briefly lit with humor. “No, but I do have something for you.” She went upstairs.

MacLean walked in and shoved his cell phone into his pocket.

“My father did this,” I said.

“I agree. But the Council needs proof. And a viable motive. We have neither.” His expression was grim. He looked at the kitchen floor, where the large crimson stain would always be a grim reminder. “Carys’ death is a tremendous loss for our world. Jedren would need a worthy motive to risk the wrath of the Council. Jedren may be many things, but stupid isn’t one of them.”

Gwen came down the stairs, holding a small box. She handed it to me. “Mother saved this for you.”

I took the wooden box from her. I was scared to open it. Ornate Celtic carvings decorated the top and a small metal latch secured the contents. “Is this my fate?”

“No. Your fate would be in the Library of Shadows.”

“That’s why I’m here. To get my fate. I need to know…”

Suddenly, Gwen’s eyes flickered and turned a ghostly shade of white. No color or pupil. I stepped back without thinking.

“Rest easy, Elleodora Fredricks. I am a fate reader,” Gwen intoned. Her voice had changed in pitch, but the Scottish accent was still there. She fell silent and stood, unmoving. Minutes passed, and we all remained still and silent. Her breathing was smooth and steady, and those chilling, white eyes stared off into space.

I nearly jumped when she blinked and her eyes returned to their normal hue. “I’m sorry. I cannot access your fate.”

Disappointment made my shoulders slump. I stared at the box, wishing it held all of the answers to my problems. I knew it didn’t. Life was never that easy.

“It’s not uncommon,” Gwen said, her tone gruff. “Many fate readers cannot access fates they have not read themselves. I wanted to try.”

“Thank you.” I appreciated it, although I was still disappointed. I stared at the latch on the box. “Can I open it now?”

Gwen nodded and sat on the couch. Nervous, I opened the lid carefully. Inside was a necklace.

Jax and MacLean cursed at the same time.

Teryl jumped closer. “Holy shit, Elle.”

Jax reached for the box. “Let me take that.”

“No.” I hugged the box to my chest and took a quick step back.

I turned toward MacLean, who was glowing faintly. I waited for the flames in his eyes to die down. When I had his full attention, I held up the necklace. “MacLean, what is this?”

“A soul,” he replied, watching the necklace sway as it dangled from my fingers.

I could have guessed that much. The gold necklace and the gleaming pendant vibrated with energy. The chain was simple, but heavy. The pendant held a cluster of light pink, almost clear stones that glittered in the light. “Is this one of the missing souls?”

“No,” MacLean said, “not even close.”

Teryl stepped forward, also mesmerized by the pendant. “It’s not one of us.”

“Not an oracle?” I asked. “Okay, is it a shadow elf? Light elf?”

“It’s a god,” Gwen said. “Technically, it’s only part of a god, but still, it’s a god.”

I dropped the pendant back into the box and set it on the small table beside the couch. I took a couple of big steps back. I stared at each of them. “Why me? Why can’t I get a lump of coal in my stocking, or a parking ticket? Something normal? I don’t want any souls.”

Gwen watched me with sad eyes. “It’s yours by birthright.”

“Birthright,” I repeated. “As in…?”

“It’s from your mother.”

All of the air left my lungs. “Is it…part of her?”

“No,” MacLean replied and walked over to the box, looking down at the contents. “It’s part of Rhys. Who I assume was her father.” He lifted a hand like he wanted to touch the stones, but he let it drop back to his side. “Your grandfather. Your magic signature is similar enough to the soul, I can see the resemblance.”

“You need to put it on.”

Gwen’s words made my stomach churn. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She looked disgusted with me. “You don’t understand. You must wear it. It was gifted to you. It’s your birthright.”

“You keep saying that, but it doesn’t mean anything to me.”

Teryl cleared his throat. “It means, your heritage dictates you must wear it. If the gods gift you something, you must accept.”

“And if I don’t?” I asked softly.

“It varies, but inevitably, it ends badly. Please put it on. If you deny your birthright, especially one from the gods, who knows what will happen? Trust me, you don’t want to find out.”

I couldn’t. If I put the pendant on, there was no going back. It would be a declaration of acceptance, and I didn’t accept one damn thing about this situation. Not now. Not after being hunted, and finding another dead woman on the floor.

“Foolish,” Gwen spat out, grief and anger twisting her features. “My mother held that in trust for you.”

I flinched. Guilt ate at me. I felt horrible about her death. I really did. “I’m sorry, but this has nothing to do with your mother.”

“It has everything to do with her.” Gwen stood suddenly and stepped closer to me. MacLean and Jax moved forward on either side and Teryl hovered close by. She ignored them all. Fury etched harsh lines into her face. “She protected your secret for years. Tonight, she died for it. And you refuse to accept it?”

“How do you know that?” MacLean asked, his tone all business. “How do you know her death was related to the contents of the box?”

Her eyes flicked to him for a moment before coming back to my face. “She knew how her life would end. She told me her death would be for a great cause, for a worthy individual.” She raked me with a contemptuous look. “You are not worthy. She was wrong about you.”

Weariness pulled down the corners of her mouth, and she sat heavily on the couch. All of the anger seemed to pour out of her in a single sigh. “Please leave. I have nothing more for you. I have to tend to my mother.”

MacLean stepped forward, blocking her from my view. “I’ve notified the Council. Someone will be here shortly.”

Teryl ushered me out the door, so I didn’t hear Gwen’s reply. Jax grabbed the box on his way out. In moments, we were back on the road. The silence on the drive back to the hotel was uncomfortable. Teryl drove, with MacLean in front and me and Jax in the back.

My eyelids were so heavy. I wanted to sleep for hours and hours, and magically wake up back home. I wished this were all a nightmare. When we pulled up in front of the hotel, I was reminded it was all very real. The cold air stung my skin and I shivered, though not just from the chill. No one said a word as we walked up the staircase toward our rooms. Jax held open the door to our room, and I moved past him and stared at the bed.

Teryl called out a soft “good night,” but I didn’t bother to turn around. I could easily picture the sorrow and concern on his face without looking at him. What I needed was a smile. A laugh. A positive word. Anything to let me know it would be okay.

The door closed behind us with a soft click. I didn’t move. My mind and body felt sluggish, while my emotions crashed into one another.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jax set the wooden box on the dresser. He turned to me. “Elle…”

“Please don’t,” I whispered, interrupting him. “Not tonight. Not now. I don’t need a lecture. I don’t need to hear what I should do or what I need to do or even how much I screwed up.” Tears filled my eyes. It was late; I was exhausted and on complete and utter emotional overload.

He gathered me in his arms and held me. Just held me. I was too tired to let my emotions go completely. I wouldn’t be able to handle them. So the tears made slow, steady paths down my cheeks as I rested my head on Jax’s chest.

“I need you tonight,” I said, and felt his arms tighten around me. I tipped my head back so I could look at him. “It doesn’t change anything between us. But for tonight, I want to forget. I need to forget. Please.”

I didn’t want words, and Jax seemed to understand that. He picked me up and laid me on the bed. He was gentle as he removed my clothes. I closed my eyes and resisted the unrelenting waves of exhaustion. I needed to feel something, anything, tonight. My heart beating. My breath flowing. Love and protection. I had that with Jax.

I heard the soft sounds of his clothes hitting the floor, and the bed dipped as he settled next to me. I opened my eyes and stared at him. The handsome angles of his face, the gorgeous, gray eyes. They were solemn as he stared down at me.