Timeless (Pandora Book 1) (12 page)

Moving closer to her side, Vane reached behind her back to rest his hand on her opposite hip. “Sorry,” he mumbled from the corner of his mouth.

The sheepish grin that followed melted her, and Charli leaned against him with a sigh. “Was that really necessary?”

He steered her inside a women’s clothing store. “I might be feeling a tad territorial. You’ll get used to it.” Winking when she looked up at him, he nodded toward the clothing racks. “Let’s get your things, and I promise I’ll do my best to explain everything over dinner. Deal?”

Deciding it was probably the best offer she’d get, Charli agreed easily and wandered deeper into the store to browse the shelves. He couldn’t avoid her forever, and one way or another, she was going to get her answers.

* * * *

By the time they finished their shopping expedition and made it back to his quarters, Vane wanted to fall into bed and never move. Great galaxies, he’d never met anyone as stubborn and uncooperative as his girl. He’d give her the universe if she asked him, yet she fussed over a few hundred units for things she genuinely needed.

In the end, he’d practically forced clothes, shoes, soaps, cosmetics, and other odd assortments of feminine products on her. She’d fought him the whole way, insisting she didn’t need half the things he dumped into her hands or requesting they find less expensive alternatives for the other half.

“This really is too much.” Standing at the foot of her bed, Charlotte folded her arms over her chest and stared at the six shopping bags at her feet through narrowed eyes. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into all of this.”

Biting back his irritation, Vane settled onto the mattress and took her hand, pulling her down beside him. “Stop. There’s no need for all this stress. It’s my responsibility to care for you, to provide anything you need or want, and I’m happy to do it.”

“Are we going to have that discussion now?” She batted her lashes and flashed him an innocent smile. “Why is it your responsibility?” Shifting around on the bed, she crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap. “Everything feels different now,” she added in a small voice. “Good different, but I don’t know what it means.”

Vane didn’t understand all the particulars, either, but he owed her as much explanation as he could provide. “On Earth, you have legends about the phoenix, right? This mystical bird that bursts into flames and is resurrected from the ashes.”

“Yes.” Confusion showed in the lines of her brow, but she bit her bottom lip and waited for him to continue.

“Think of the Nekros like your phoenix. We don’t turn into birds or anything like that, but for all intents and purposes, we are immortal. After about thirty-five, we age so slowly, you’d never guess some of our elders are over nine thousand years old.”

“Shit,” she breathed. “I’m afraid to ask, but how old are you?”

“When you’re immortal, you don’t celebrate things like birthdays. I’m somewhere close to twenty-seven hundred years old, though.”

Charlotte swallowed hard, causing the muscles in her throat to constrict visibly. “How are you like the phoenix? I’ve seen the neat fire trick you do, but…” Trailing off, she shrugged. “So, you can’t die at all?”

“We can. There are some things even our abilities can’t save us from, like removing the heart or the head.” Clearing his throat, Vane changed courses, navigating the conversation away from the morbid and morose. “We can be injured. We can even die temporarily. At that point, the fire inside us rises to the surface and heals us. So, it’s not resurrection exactly, but you see the similarities.”

Vane had seen it happen on more than one occasion, and he’d experienced it himself twice. Frankly, the ordeal was a bit gruesome to watch, and he hoped Charlotte never had to witness it.

“You’re strong, quick, and agile.” Charlotte ticked the list off on her fingers while she spoke. “You have heightened senses, like smell and hearing. What about sight?”

Vane nodded. “The Nekros have keen vision, and we can also see a little in the dark, but mostly just thermal images.”

While he spoke, Vane clenched his hands at his sides, squeezing until his knuckles cracked and ached. At some point, he’d say too much, overwhelm her, and Charlotte would bolt. She’d already accepted more than he had any right to ask of her, but unfortunately, he still had more to tell her.

“Vane, I’m not immortal. I’m going to age, and I’m going to die. When I do, I’m not going to erupt into pretty, green flames and come back to life, either.”

Leave it to Charlotte to cut straight to the heart of the issue. “You won’t.” Fuck, he had no idea how to explain something like familiars to her. Earthlings believed in soul mates, but that didn’t do justice to what a familiar meant to a Nekros. “If you accept me, bond with me, you won’t suffer that fate.”

“Bond with you?” Her eyes rounded for a heartbeat before they creased at the corners. “This is about the territorial thing, isn’t it? And it’s why I feel like I’ve known you for a lot longer than a few days. Tell me,” she demanded.

Her clipped words didn’t bode well for him. “My mother told me the legend about familiars when I was young, and honestly, they’re so rare, I never thought to find mine.”

Her gaze softened, and Charlotte scrunched her nose. “Familiars? Do you mean like black cats, toads, and witchy stuff?”

“Wait. What?” Vane had no idea what she meant. “Why would my familiar be a toad?”

Snorting, Charlotte inched closer to him and took his hands, squeezing his fingers lightly. “Sorry, it’s an Earth thing. Continue.”

Vane arched an eyebrow but didn’t comment. “The legend says that when a Nekros is born, the gods grant the child only half of his or her soul. Then other half is cast out into the universe to reside within the Nekros’ familiar, their destined mate.” His mother hand gone on to tell him that if he was lucky, fate would one day lead him to the missing piece of his soul. “No Nekros can ever truly be complete without the other half of their soul, but the universe is a big place, so familiars are a rare and treasured gift.”

“How do you know when you find your familiar?”

Charlotte spoke quietly, her voice barely more than a breath, yet Vane could hear the sadness that bled into her tone. “My mother never told me, but I’ve heard mated pairs describe it closely to what you’re feeling. It’s a deep ache, like a hole in your chest that can never be filled. The more you try to fight it, the bigger the void grows, but once you accept it, you feel as if…it’s like…”

“It’s like coming home,” Charlotte supplied for him. Her lower lip trembled, and she pulled her hands away, fisting them in her lap again. “You knew. The first time we met in Vegas, you knew.”

“I didn’t.” Maybe he should have. He’d never before, nor had he since, had the urge to mark a female. The encounter had been so brief, he hadn’t recognized it for what it was. “Before you ask, I didn’t know this time, either, not at first.” In hindsight, it seemed obvious, and he felt stupid for needing his father to spell it out for him. “It made me crazy to be away from you, but I didn’t understand why. I just knew I’d do anything to protect you, give you anything to make you smile.”

Her mouth softened on a long exhale, but she still held herself rigidly, her hands clenching and unclenching where they rested on her thighs. “If we bond…what does that mean?”

Charlotte spoke hesitantly, uncertainty and skepticism dripping from every word, but at least she hadn’t outright refused him. “I would claim you as mine, and you would wear my mark.”

Her left hand went to her hip. “Like the tattoo?”

It still surprised him that she’d gone through with it and actually had the design inked into her skin. “There were a thousand other tattoos you could have chosen in that shop. Why that one?”

“I…” Shaking her head, she stared down at her knees and frowned. “I don’t know. I’ve asked myself the same question a dozen times since that night, and I’ve never been able to come up with an answer that makes sense.” Her shoulders lifted in a negligent shrug. “I like it, though.”

The answer gave him hope that perhaps she’d been just as affected by him, but likewise, hadn’t understood the significance. “The mating mark is more like a brand.”

Vane winced when Charlotte sucked in a hissing breath through her clenched teeth. Resting his left hand on his knee with the palm facing toward the ceiling, he produced a single, almost delicate, red flame. “The mark is a permanent band that encircles your neck. It won’t hurt,” he added. “I’d never let anything hurt you.” He curled his fingers over his palm, extinguishing the flames.

Charlotte held her hand up, her wide eyes filled with fear as she stared back at him. “You want to brand a collar on me like I’m cattle?”

“If that’s the way you see it,” he answered with a calmness that belied the storm brewing below the surface. “It’s the custom of my people meant to honor one’s familiar, not demean them.”

“Will you be branded?” she asked, and her fingers went up to stroke the side of her neck.

Vane bowed his head. “If you wish it.” Males didn’t customarily receive a mating mark, but Vane would wear Charlotte’s with pride if that was what she wanted.

“I just need some time to wrap my head around it. Can I think about it?”

“Of course.” He wanted her to choose to be with him, but he’d never force her. “But know this. If you run, I will chase you, and I will find you.” He knew what he wanted, and he wouldn’t give her up without a fight. “I’ll give you time to think.”

Leaning forward, Vane pushed against his knees, unfolding himself from his seated position at the foot of the bed. Charlotte didn’t say anything. When he glanced over his shoulder to tell her goodnight, she bit her lip and nodded up at him. With a tired sigh, Vane shook his head and strode toward the open door.

Across the hallway, he entered his own sparsely furnished bedroom and began stripping out of his clothes. The logical part of him argued that Charlotte needed some time and space to sort out everything. The possessive part of him wanted to drag her into his bed and the consequences be damned.

Vane slid under the blankets, rolled to his side, and fell asleep alone.

The morning dawn just as dark and cold as the previous five Charli had spent on the planet. Moonlight filtered into the room through her lace curtains, bathing her face in its pale, silvery glow. Rolling onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling and groaned.

She hadn’t slept well, only a few hours in fits and starts. Mostly, she’d tossed and turned, desperately trying to reconcile everything Vane had told her about his people and their customs. That night in Las Vegas, their first meeting, repeated itself on a constant loop, playing out in slow motion while she analyzed every subtle nuance of the memory.

Having a stranger poke a million holes in her skin with a needle didn’t sound like her idea of a good time, not even now. Charli had only the one tattoo, the one Vane had designed for her, and she had no desire to repeat the experience. Hell, she didn’t even know why she’d let Sage convince her to get one in the first place.

They’d been literally wandering the strip without any destination in mind, and had stumbled upon Voodoo Tattoos at random. The moment Charli had stepped through the glass door, her eyes had been drawn to the half-naked stranger reclining in one of the vinyl chairs. Vane’s golden locks had been short at the time, spiking out in disarray around his head, and he’d been leaner, but still with more muscles than she’d ever seen on one man.

She’d thought Vane attractive, of course. Charli dared anyone to look at him and not fall in instant lust. When he’d called to her, beckoning her closer, she hadn’t hesitated. As if she’d been hypnotized, she’d glided across the room, her eyes never leaving his, and when their hands touched the rest of the world had faded away.

“Oh, hell.” Throwing the blankets back, Charli dropped her legs over the side of the mattress and jerked to her feet. “Stupid,” she chastised herself to the empty room. “Just stupid.”

She didn’t live in some made-for-TV Lifetime movie where a choir of angels sang in the background when she met her true love. In her world, dates didn’t happen often, let alone love, and the idea that fate had more control over her destiny than she did irritated her.

Still, despite her denial, she felt something for Vane, something she couldn’t explain. It was there, though, a deep, aching, consuming longing that wouldn’t let her walk away, even when she was scared of what the future might hold. She knew she wanted to be with Vane, but his talk of eternity and shared souls brought her insecurities raging to the surface, and she still worried she wouldn’t be enough for him.

Instead of just telling him that, though, she’d closed down and shut him out. She still didn’t know if she could give him what he wanted, but she did hope he’d give her a chance to explain her behavior.

Vane clearly believed in the legends. Not only had she heard the sincerity in his voice when he’d spoke, the near reverence in which he’d talked about familiars and mates, but she’d sensed it, felt it like her own. Wave after wave of adoration had assailed her. Then a deep sense of unmitigated satisfaction had flowed through her veins when Vane spoke of marking her.

None of those feelings had been her own. Her own emotions had flowed between fear, uncertainty, and in the end, confusion.

Hoping a shower would ease the tight muscles in her neck and shoulders, Charli dug through the unemptied shopping bags to find her new soaps and shampoos. Then she selected a pair of plain, gray slacks and a knitted, black sweater from another bag. Tossing a pair of red, silk panties and a matching bra onto the top of her pile, she headed toward the single bathroom.

Unfortunately, the spray of hot water did little to ease her stress, so Charli didn’t linger long in the shower. Wash, dried, and dressed, she combed out her wet hair while she wandered down the hallway to the deserted living room. The apartment was quiet—too quiet. Turning around, she tiptoed back down the hallway to the bedroom across from hers and cracked the door open just far enough to peek inside.

The sheets on Vane’s bed lay tangled in the center of the mattress, and the comforter had been kicked into a pile on the floor. Charli tried to reason that he’d likely had an early patrol at the compound and hadn’t wanted to disturb her. The explanation didn’t sit well with her, though, not when the digital readout on the clock beside his bed proclaimed it just after four o’clock in the morning.

Pursing her lips, she pulled his bedroom door closed and hurried back to the living room, hoping to find a hastily scribbled note or some other clue. She found nothing, not even an empty breakfast plate. While a hundred different scenarios existed to explain his absence, Charli couldn’t shake the sense that something bad had happened.

She didn’t know how to contact Vane, and moreover, she worried he might not want to speak to her anyway. “I need to find Xavian,” she mused aloud. Unfortunately, she had no way to contact him, either.

“
Calling Lieutenant Xavian Tira
.” The computerized voice spoke from the shimmering projection that blinked to life on the far wall of the living room. “
Transmission accepted.
”

“Charli? What’s wrong?” Xavian’s face appeared on the screen, his eyebrows knitted together, and his long, ebony hair sticking out around his head in tangles. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay. I didn’t mean to call you so early.” Charli wrinkled her nose. “Okay, I did. I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t know just saying your name would make the computer call you. I am sorry I woke you, but I’m not sorry I called.” Great, now she was rambling again. Taking a deep breath, Charli let it out slowly through her nose and squared her shoulders. “Do you know were Vane is?”

Xavian’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared, an almost imperceptible change in expression. “He probably had patrol.”

“You really are a terrible liar.” Not necessarily a bad quality, but it didn’t help when Charli needed answers. “Where is he, Xavian?”

Sighing, the guard scrubbed both hands over his face and mumbled something under his breath in a langue Charli couldn’t translate. “He had to meet with the elders this morning.”

“About me?” Vane had broken some of their most absolute laws to save her life. “Where are they meeting?”

“No,” Xavian answered shortly. “You’re not going.”

“So, I am
allowed
to be there. That’s what you’re telling me.”

“Don’t twist my words, female.”

“Damn it, Xavian, is it a public trial or not?”

Growling and grumbling, Xavian leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Yes, it’s a public trial. No, you’re still not going. Vane doesn’t want you there.”

Charli smiled sweetly and shrugged. “I don’t really give a damn what Vane wants. He’s in this mess because of me, and I’m going. Get dressed and meet me at the zipline platform in fifteen minutes.”

Xavian’s eyes flashed, and if he could have reached through the screen and strangled her, Charli had no doubt he would. She didn’t care.

“I’ll go without you,” she added when he didn’t respond. Granted, she’d have to figure out
where
to go first, but it couldn’t be that difficult. She just needed to find Taldor’s version of a courthouse.

“Fine,” Xavian bit out through gritted teeth. “Fifteen minutes.”

* * * *

“The trial has already started,” Xavian told her when they stepped out of the zipline and onto the platform in an unfamiliar part of the city. “Don’t speak.” Grabbing her wrist he dragged her across the platform and up the metal stairs. “I’m serious, Charli. Don’t say anything.”

Charli bobbed her head as she jogged to keep up with him. “I promise I won’t do anything to make this worse, but I need to be there.” Her gut clenched into painful knots. “This is my fault.”

Stopping in front of the double doors at the end of the bridge, Xavian swiped his ID badge over the console and leaned forward for a retinal scan.

“
Thank you, Lieutenant Tira. Welcome to Taldor Hall of Justice.
”

“This isn’t your fault.” Xavian took her elbow and practically dragged her through the double doors when they slid open. “It’s a shitty situation that’s not anyone’s fault, but laws were broken. Someone has to be held accountable.”

Stopping just beyond the doors, Xavian slid his coat off and hung it on one of the hooks that jutted from the wall, nodding for Charli to the same.

“It should be me,” she said as she followed suit and removed her jacket to hang it beside Xavian’s. It should be her standing before the council of elders, pleading for forgiveness and understanding. “What are they going to do to him?” The thought of anything happening to him caused a sick feeling in her gut, and bile surged in her throat. “Xavian, tell me how bad it is.”

Staring straight ahead, Xavian marched her across the black, marbled floors to a set of heavy, wooden doors. Their footsteps reverberated off the white walls of the cavernous lobby, bouncing back to her in hushed, ominous echoes. Instead of leading her through the ten-feet-tall double doors, Xavian made a sharp turn, pulling her around the corner to a smaller, less impressive door.

“Don’t say a word,” he reminded her.

Jerking her arm out of his hand, Charli pressed her palm flat against the door before he could open it. “Tell me what’s going to happen.”

Xavian met her gaze and spoke slowly. “I don’t know. Whatever happens, though, you hold it together. You got it?”

Though filled with a sense of foreboding that unnerved her, Charli had no choice but to nod her agreement. “I’ve got it.”

“Good.”

Opening the metal-framed door, Xavian motioned her through first. With more care than he’d shown thus far, he stood beside her and cupped her elbow, steering her toward a row of elevated, padded chairs near the railing of the crescent-shaped balcony.

Below her, Charli spotted several guards, all dressed in the same head-to-toe black uniforms as Vane and Xavian, positioned at different points in the circular room. Six elders sat in high-back chairs, peering down from their perches atop the dais at the front of the Hall. Wearing identical purple robes and matching somber expressions, they took turns speaking, sometimes even finishing each other’s sentences.

“Have you retrieved the Jewel of Atrea?” the elder in the middle asked, his deep, booming voice carrying throughout the Hall.

“Not yet, sir.”

Vane stood in the center of the enormous room, his feet shoulder-width apart and his hands folded together over his belt. Dressed in his black uniform, he stood out in sharp relief against the backdrop of the pristine white floors and painted ivory walls.

Even from the distance, Charli could see the rigid set of his shoulders, and her heart flopped over in her chest. Pressing her lips together into a thin line, she chewed the inside of her cheek, willing herself to remain quiet and unmoving.

“You were sent to Earth to retrieve the jewel,” another elder stated in her high-pitched, girlish lilt.

“And protect the human female, Charlotte Rousseau,” the original elder finished.

Charli jumped when they spoke her name and moved a little closer to the ornate railing.

“That is correct,” Vane answered, his voice tense but respectful.

“Yet, you have failed to reclaim the jewel.” The elder spoke from the far end of the dais, his slender frame dwarfed by his mane of silvery blond hair.

From the opposite end of the bench, another female elder spoke. “You have safeguarded the human female, yet you have broken numerous laws in the process.” She shook her head, her mahogany curls swishing around her face.

“You brought this young woman into our world, into a future she doesn’t recognize, and have potentially upset the balance of fate.” The elder in the center of the dais folded his hands atop the podium and leaned forward, his dark brown hair cascading over his shoulders. “Moreover, you intervened in her death, and while your actions were noble, we have no way to know what consequences her continued existence may bring.”

“I understand, Elder.” Vane lowered his head in a partial bow.

“Do you have anything to say in your defense?” the elder with the impossibly long, silvery hair asked.

“Only that I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.”

Shocked gasps erupted within the hall, and Charli closed her eyes and groaned inwardly. Vane had been doing so well, and she couldn’t even guess what had possessed him to say something so idiotic.

“Charlotte is my familiar, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”

He spoke so vehemently and with such conviction, Charli felt the words as much as heard them. Tears stung the corners of her eyes, and she pressed her fingertips to her mouth to stop the gasp she felt building in her chest.

“I take full responsibility for my actions,” Vane continued. “I will gladly accept my punishment without argument or complaint if it means Charlotte will be protected under the sanctity of our mating laws.”

His declaration pushed Charli passed the threshold of her emotional limit, and the tears she’d been battling spilled over to trail down her cheeks. Wiping them away with the sleeve of her sweater, she inched to the edge of her chair and clenched her hands together in a white-knuckled grip.

No one spoke for a torturously long time, and the silence that blanketed the Hall felt thick and oppressive. When the elder with the big, booming voice finally answered, it startled Charli so badly she nearly toppled out of her seat.