Authors: Calle J. Brookes
Tags: #Fantasy Romance, #Goddess, #Goddesses, #Gods, #Interdimensional Travel, #Love Story, #Paranormal Romance, #Romance, #Sorcery, #Vampires, #Werewolves, #Witches, #Wizards, #Shifters, #Demons, #Magic
“Giving Destinies that kind of power over my life is something I will never do again. I make the choices for my own path. Something you’d best learn to do. Unless you wish to be a puppet with strings for the rest of your days.”
“I don’t get you. First you argue that I should go along with you because the Fates decree it, then you tell me to quit being a puppet. Hypocrite.”
“Yes. You should listen to them when they say you should go along with all that I say, all that I wish. The rest of it is your choice of course.” He grinned at her, and for the first time since she’d found him in Dardanos, Loren laughed. A full laugh that celebrated the fact that they were alive.
He pulled her off her feet and kissed her, hard, then set her back on the ground. “We should get moving if we are to reach Ihth before afternoon. It is a long journey from here out.”
“I am ready.”
“Good. And Loren, keep your sword at the ready.”
Listen to that brother of mine. He knows of what he speaks. Though you have permission to knock him upside the head. Little Jushie has always possessed more arrogance than he ought. And stop kissing him where I can see! There are some things a brother does not wish to witness.
Loren bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. She wasn’t ready to tell him about the sword.
And the fact that it was most likely his brother’s soul trapped inside it. How much would that hurt him? To know his brother’s soul was confined, and not be able to free him?
That would be enough to drive Loren mad, wouldn’t it?
And to know that brother had been trapped for five thousand years? That would make it so much worse.
She felt for Dekimos, the pain he must have endured to bring the sword to her was something that had to be almost unbearable.
Yet he’d done it. Because it was his destiny.
She definitely couldn’t screw this up.
The Gardens of Ihth were sealed off by something they could not see or touch. Only Jushua’s familiarity with the geography of Evalanedea even got them close to the place they sought.
But that didn’t matter.
They could see the Gardens and instead of the fragrant place of great beauty Ihth had once been, it was a burned and barren wasteland. Thorned plants black in color like she had never seen covered the entire five acre place.
To get to Ihth they had to pick their way down a steep hill that was littered with brambles and stones.
They’d almost made it to the bottom when Loren tripped and slid straight down the remaining twelve feet or so. Jushua grabbed her just as her foot knocked into the first of the black thorns.
Immediately something sucked the air from her lungs and flung the two of them…
somewhere.
It almost felt like a portkey, but it was so dark and bleak and the pressure on her lungs was such that she was absolutely certain every last vestige of Druidic power she had was about to expunge itself from her body—through her nose—if she did not keep a tight hold of it.
It became so intense that Loren passed out for a moment—most likely from lack of oxygen.
She regained her senses when her head was submerged under freezing cold water.
Something was pulling her down.
It took her too damned long to realize that it was a male body.
She grabbed him as tightly as she could and used a blast of her gifts to propel them to the surface. She pulled in a gasping breath and treaded water, using her inhuman power to hold him to her.
The air cleared around them, but Loren still could not breathe. She held Jushua to her as tightly as she could, both physically and with every bit of power she still had left.
It was a miracle in itself that she had any trace of her gift left at all.
**
She pulled him with her through the choppy waters of what she thought was the Evalanedean West Coast, hoping and praying that the idea of deadweight wasn’t about to become a reality.
She’d lost hundreds of people in her lifetimes, but to lose him now—that would be a blow she could never recover from. It was finally sinking in that the Fates were damned determine she and Jushua be together.
Her body already wanted just that.
And so, she was beginning to think, was her heart.
Keep swimming. Just keep swimming. Do not let my brother go.
Even the sword was beginning to panic.
But Jushua wasn’t helping her swim, and he wasn’t breathing much at all.
The salt of the ocean mingled with the tears on her cheeks. But she refused to let herself waste what oxygen she still had by sobbing.
That would help neither one of them. The only hope she clung to was that he was Dardaptoan. And that meant he was damned hard to kill.
But if he was going to wake up, she’d prefer he do it sooner rather than later.
She kept swimming, feeling her power drain with each yard she traveled. She would not be able to keep them both afloat for too much longer. But there was no way she was letting go of him. Her fingers were locked together, tangled in the material of his tunic, holding him as much out of the water as she could.
If he went down, so would she. Damn the plans of the Four Fates.
Jushua was far more important.
At least to
her
he was.
She almost lost her grip on him when she saw the edge of the coast less than half a mile from where they were.
If she could reach the shore, she could open the barrier between the worlds and take him to his mother or the City of Healers. He would be helped there.
With a last push of strength, determination, or power—she wasn’t sure what was guiding her on—she pulled him to the shore.
Loren used the force of the tide to move his big male body to the sands. She bent over him and touched his chest. For a long, terrifying moment she was convinced his chest wasn’t moving at all. But then she saw it, felt it—she didn’t know for sure which—but he pulled in a breath. Then another.
And then he just stopped.
She cried his name, then pounded her fists against his chest, directly over his heart. “Breathe, you damned idiot!”
Would human CPR work on a Dardaptoan? Their hearts were on the opposite sides of their bodies, weren’t they? What else was different?
Still, one thing she did know—lungs needed air to function, no matter what the being’s Kind was. She bent over him and pushed soppy blond hair off of his face. Covered his lips with her own.
And breathed. Waited. Breathed again. And again and again. Until the beat of his heart started once more. Until his lungs pulled in a breath of his own.
But he still didn’t open his eyes. She kept going, until there was nothing left in her to give. She rocked back on her heals, then collapsed onto the sand next to him.
She took two deep breaths of her own and then was back over the top of him.
Loren pulled every iota of healing power she possessed, which had never been much. The Four Fates had made it clear to her early on that she would not ever have much of the healing talents. That was part of the curse the Dark Sorcerer had forced upon her.
To watch the people she loved die, and know she would most likely not be able to help them.
But that was then, this was today. “Jushua, dammit, open your eyes. Please!”
He could hear her, feel her, but there was no way in The Three Hells that he was opening his eyes. He couldn’t.
A strange lethargy unlike any he had ever known kept his eyes shut and his body like rock.
Her hands were pressing against his chest in a rhythm he did not recognize. He could have told her to stop, that it would do little good.
Jushua was not dead yet. But he was pretty damned close to it. Or at least he felt that way.
Finally, he could do it and he pushed his eyes open.
He’d never seen a more beautiful woman in all of his days as the bedraggled half-mermaid in front of him. “Pretty witchie.”
She gasped, pulled in so many ragged breaths he grew immediately concerned. He looked at her, checking for obvious signs of blood or trauma. “Are you hurt?”
She was so much more vulnerable than he. And that terrified him.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Bruises, mostly.”
“We survived.”
“For now.”
He covered her hands with his own, holding them to his chest. “That is all that we can take heart in now. And tomorrow, and the day after. We will get through this.”
“Don’t be sweet, I’m not sure I can handle it right now.” Her words broke at the last. “I thought we were both dead.”
“And I am harder to kill than that.” He sat up. He didn’t like the feel of his female leaning over his prone body with fear in her eyes. Jushua pulled her over lap and hugged her. “Do you have an idea of where we are? Any sign of Dekimos? How long was I in the ether?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I know that the sun wasn’t on this side of the sky when we were climbing down that hill. But…I don’t know how long we were…elsewhere.”
“Any signs of Dekimos?”
He would not worry for his brother. Dekimos knew what he was about when they started this journey. And Jushua knew his brother had a purpose of his own.
“We will find him. First, though, we must find shelter. I do not like the looks of those clouds forming. A storm rages on, but a few hours away. We need find a cave or something.”
“No caves. Not in this area.”
“And no underground for the little witchie? I shall keep you safe.” And he would. He’d realized something the moment the Dark Sorcerer’s spell had encircled them. Even if the Fates had not foredestined them, he wanted this witchie. And he would protect her. No matter what. And…he would embrace the gift he was given, and thank the Fates for her, if ever he had the chance. “Up. We need to get moving.”
She stood and shivered in the cold wind. Her shirt was ripped and ragged, he could see pale strips of her skin exposed to the harsh Evalanedean weather. Her blue pants were thankfully intact.
“Where are we going?”
He looked out at the sea behind them. This part of the continent had once been prone to extremely harsh and violent windstorms, made worse when those storms built over waters. He strongly suspected that hadn’t changed in five thousand years. “As far from the coast as we can get on foot. Come.”
He held out a hand for the pack she still wore on her back. How had she managed to pull him from the sea with what had to be fifty pounds or more strapped to her back? She was far stronger than she looked. “Give me the bag. You keep your sword.”
She nodded, then looked around. But she gave him the bag. “I don’t really know what we are supposed to do now.”
“And here I thought you had all the answers, trusted your precious destiny to guide you.” The stubborn look returned to her face immediately. Like he’d known it would. He did not like to see his female looking so defeated. If he had to pester her to get her spirit back, then he would do so. And ask her forgiveness later.
“You truly do not understand destiny…or faith, do you?”
“The two are not one and the same. I will be no one’s bitch puppet on a string. I make the choices I make not because some isolated nothing on a rush of power decrees it.”
“You resent the Fates, don’t you?” She gripped the hilt of his brother’s sword with one hand, but she accepted the one he held out to her. He helped her over the rough igneous rocks that lined the shore, her acquiescence concerning him. She’d been confident and a leader, strong and assured, since the moment their journey had begun. But now…
Now she looked like a confused young girl, frightened and almost frail. Every protective instinct he had ever possessed was rearing its head, demanding he put her someplace safe, while he went and slayed the dragons they both faced.
But he knew her well enough now to know she would never welcome such from him. “I do not resent the Fates you follow so closely, but I do not allow them to decree my path. They’ve screwed with my life enough as it is. Yet I am beginning to question my beliefs on destiny in recent days.”
“Yet some could argue that
every
action we make leads to our destiny.”
“Do you really believe such foolishness?” And why were they having this discussion now? All of their energy should be focused on finding shelter and sustenance for the night. Though he was certainly skilled enough to find a fish or two for her to eat. And the coast of Evalanedea’s waters had always had plentiful supplies of root vegetables and berries sweeter than any he had ever tasted.
How he had missed the foods of his homeland these past thousands of years.
It was a few moments before he realized he was actually looking forward to the rest of the night.