Blakeshire (12 page)

I couldn’t even fathom what I was up against. “Was that by luck, or can they see the future?”

“When you are around for a few eternities, you can almost guess—predict is probably a better way to say it—what will occur, so yes then, they did plan to challenge you in every way, in every lifetime…but you see, now they are all addicts; they have forgotten the ploys they had then, the details of them. Now they just know who they want to end, and how they plan to do that in the short term.” His eyes rapidly moved across my focused image. “Karma is eternal law. You see, when sovereigns dwell on this plane they adapt to the time cycle. They forget the deeds they have done and underestimate the memory of time. Drake was forced into a situation to fake love, and now with his true lover he will fake hate and that will bring him nothing less than supremacy over his enemies.”

“We have to fool them,” I said quietly as my eyes widened. “We have to make them think that the damage they have done is permanent.”

He nodded once, then moved closer. “Righting wrongs is never an easy task to conquer. Find your beginning. Find it in that palace. Trust your heart and soul.” He reached for my temple, and when his skin touched mine I felt a burn, followed by a sick dizziness. “Now, you will be able to sense your traitors.”

“What did you do to me?” I mumbled as I swayed.

“Rest now.”

And with that, my eyes fell shut.

Chapter Seven

~Drake~

Someone shaking my shoulder woke me out of one of the best dreams I’d ever had in my life. Zander. I clutched Madison to me in an automatic defense; he just smirked and nodded his head, telling me to meet him downstairs.

I tucked Madison in, rushed through a shower, and put on the clothes that my brother must have left out for me before going downstairs to meet him.

“I give you a promotion, and you decide to take the morning off?
” I teased. Right then, I heard an alarm going off in the kitchen and took off in that direction. Preston, my near infant brother, had turned the burners on the stove on, and had pans sitting on all of them. I rushed to him and turned the heat back and the fan on before opening the back door. I turned to him and signed, “
What gives? Hungry? Just ask me.”

He grinned at me and signed, “
Pancakes.”

Zander was leaning in the doorway, shaking his head. “Are you ever going to use words with him?”

“I do on occasion,” I said as I pulled out a stool for Preston to sit on and searched for something to give him to drink. Preston had only gained the ability to speak and hear recently, something I didn’t want to think about now. “You ready to tell me why you took the day off?”

“Not day; afternoon. Preston wanted someone to take him home. My new boss Chrispin gave me that job.”

Must mean Chrispin trusted him. I felt a wave of guilt. When I left to come to Chara last night I thought Preston was in Chara already. Even as crazed as I was, I doubted I would have left him behind. He was like a son to me. Every move I’ve made since he was born was done to protect him.

“How is everything there?” My dimension was far ahead of this one in time, so I had no doubt by now Alamos had figured out I had abandoned ship.

“Quiet for the most part,” Zander said as he stared at me.

“Anyone recognize you?”

“Only as a warrior.”

Preston giggled as he looked up at Zander.

I shook my head. Clairvoyants surrounded me, yet not one of them saw fit to tell me my future.

Preston signed, “
I’ll just take cereal. You don’t have time to cook. Landen is coming to talk to you, and after that Zander is going to take you to get inked.
”

“
Inked?” I said, utterly confused.

They both glanced to my arm. I pulled up my sleeve and had to force myself not to gasp. Madison had used me as a canvas—in permanent marker, no doubt. My shower didn’t faze her marks on my skin. I barely noticed the names that were more symbolic than I could express. My eyes focused on ‘first, last, forever.’ Creator help me, I had actually made some headway with that woman. Why the hell did that terrify me? Oh, I know: because if this was all a game, I would be ruined for lifetimes to come.

“Not a game,”
Preston signed. I moved my head from side to side as I gazed at my six-year-old brother’s innocence. He terrified me sometimes. He really did.

“It would be a nice gesture to make it real,” Zander prompted.

“You think you have to talk me into this? That I would not have found a way to ink myself?”

Zander shrugged. “You would not have had the idea if you were still asleep.”

“So now I am to thank you for pulling me out of the bed with Madison Marie?” I taunted as I made us all cereal.

“What did Alamos say?” I asked once we were all settled around the breakfast bar.

“Which one?”

I’d lost my appetite. I pushed my half-eaten bowl away from me. I was going to have to kill Alamos, and I didn’t want to.

“The evil one told me to bring you back if I wanted to keep my head, but the nice one hasn’t come out of his chambers; therefore, we are in the same spot as before.”

If Zander had something of Alamos’, he could cast a spell that would cause whomever was mirroring him to surface, ensuring that I did indeed strike the right man.

Preston pushed his bowl away and hopped down from his stool. “
Where are you going?”
I signed.

“Zander wants to talk about grown up stuff. I’m going to find Libby.”

“Are you allowed to roam here?”

“Just over the hill. Safe. Promise.”

He hugged me, then ran out the door. I watched him until he disappeared over the hilltop.

Just as I went to open the door and follow him to ensure he got to where was supposed to go, Zander spoke.

“He’s already inside Libby’s house. Safe and sound.”

I glared back him. In the palace, I never let Preston roam alone, and the idea that he could in this dimension caused jealousy to erupt in my soul. Perfect. Little. Chara.

“What grown up stuff do you want to talk about?

“Five sacrifices, but only three concern you.”

“Do what?”

“Your next trial, my liege.”

“You mean Willow and Laden’s trial. A curse that should be null and void at this point.” That curse was cast to ensure that Willow was my queen. Donalt had eleven shots at it. I knew it was also cast to ensure he had dwindled me down enough to take over my body, but I never really focused on that aspect; I had enough reminders of that siege.

Willow and I had both made a decision. I wanted that to mean the spell was over. I wasn’t surprised that it wasn’t that easy. I just wasn’t looking forward to being pulled to Willow’s side again. Not because I didn’t care, but because I didn’t want her life at risk—and I knew if I was guarding her, Madison Marie was at risk.

“Not until it is fully played. This trial’s going to test all of you in some measure.”

“What three sacrifices are you asking of me?”

“I’m not asking; I’m warning.”

“Are you telling me she’s at risk? That I should run with her?” We both knew I was talking about Madison Marie.

“You cannot run, your—”

“My heir is not in place. I get it. Is she at risk?”

“I think she’s been coached. She should be fine as long as your temper doesn’t get in the way.”

“Mine? That woman makes me look like a lamb.”

A bellowing laugh that was out of character came from him.

“You cannot lock her down.”

“She is not roaming out of my sight.”

“Drake, she is not Clara, a toy you can put aside at will.”

Before I struck him, he held his hand up to tell me to let him go on. “Meaning she has a strong mind, one that will put your mother’s to shame. You hold her back, and you will put her in greater danger—force her to make rash decisions. If she is to be your queen, she has no choice but to be fearless.”

“A widowed queen,” I said, doubting my brilliant plan to bring her into my world.

He didn’t deny it. His stare was placid. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know how.

“For Creator’s sake, just tell me. If I only have days, I plan to enjoy them.”

“I’ve always told you to live in the moment.”

Yep, he did, and that advice pushed me to try and do things with Willow that I never would have done otherwise. If I were a weak man, I could easily blame Zander for my reckless actions. But they were mine and mine alone. I heard what I wanted to when I wanted to.

“And you meant what by that?”

“Live like there is no tomorrow. Give her the last test, Drake. She will pass with flying colors.”

I had to look away. It’s hard having a best friend that can see right through you, literally. I never spoke of any test I was putting her through, but we both knew that was exactly what I was doing. I’m not a trusting soul. No secret there. Like Madison, I wanted proof she was not an evil ploy.

I even went as far as asking Draven exactly how all of their abilities worked. I knew what she could and could not see when she looked at me, and that was before the last trial when she was dwindled down to near nothing in the way of supernatural abilities. Zander wanted me to let her all the way in, and I’ll be damned if I didn’t want to.

“Plan to. You’re deflecting. What do you not want to say to me?”

He cleared his throat. “Your mother spoke the truth over you last night. You are an original Blakeshire.”

I raised my brow, telling him to go on. I trusted him more than my mother.

“Shortly after Donalt turned dark, his bloodline sent you to the palace. They assumed he was dying and that there was no heir in place. When you arrived, you discovered that was not the case. He had been overcome, and you had to take the stage. Play the part of a blind prince.”

“This have anything to do with a glass boat?”

No response to that question.

“In that life, you refused to be a widower. You were valiant, yet imprisoned anyway. Madison Marie has been coached to undo that past, and when she jumps you are going to let her. If you love her at all, you are going to trust her to come back to you.”

I had no idea how literal he was being, and pushing him was not going to get me anywhere. He’d clam up faster than I could slug him.

“Who’s coaching her? Can I trust them? And why hasn’t she told me about them?” Madison was by no means a chatterbox, but surely she would have mentioned someone speaking to her about a past that centered on us, especially considering that was our one issue.

“They have your best interests in mind. And I doubt she is fully aware that she has been gracefully guided.”

“Gracefully,” I repeated. Zander chose his every word carefully. Could the Creator Himself have woken from his slumber and decided to finally show mercy on my world? I’d believe it when I saw it.

Zander nodded to the doorway. “Landen just pulled up.”

Meaning conversation over.

Chapter Eight

~Madison~

Wicked dreams are not new to me in any way, but this one was almost too much for me. I saw black ink taking the place of the faces that were around me. It would wave slowly, daring me to stare deeper into the wicked darkness of it. There were so many aromas in the air, but I couldn’t take them all in; the stench of sulfur was too overpowering.

I was given a golden chalice and forced to drink from it; the taste was rich with iron. Blood. I tried to spit it out, but the evil souls with faces made of ink, forced me to drink more. The next thing I felt was my body falling as I heard dark chants pouring into the air around me. I had fallen into freezing water. As I sunk lower into this abyss, I was powerless to fight, to break free from my binds and swim to the surface to claim air. I felt something long and thick pull me deeper into whatever I was drowning in. What felt like pure muscle surrounded my body. I fought against this mass, and when I managed to break free, instead of swimming away, I swam deeper into the murky cavern. I was desperate to reach something or someone—a dark grief seized my emotion. It was very clear in my mind that if I could not reach what I was after, then death would be a welcome relief from the agony that was already seizing my soul.

With a gasp, I sat straight up in my bed. With wide eyes, I took in my surroundings, finally remembering I was in Olivia’s house, in her guest room.

I glanced to my side to find Drake gone. Was he even here? Did I dream that, too?

I pulled myself up, then covered my eyes with the palms of my hands as I slowly rocked back and forth and tried to understand that wicked nightmare. It was just as vivid as the one I had that warned me that I would fight Bianca in The Realm at Willow’s side. I knew I should be terrified simply because that dream came true, and it was even more wicked when it did.

I had a deep, morbid feeling that I had just witnessed my death. A raging anger resonated hazardously in the core of my soul. I was sick of this crap, of evil targeting me for nothing more than fun and games. I was going to end this one way or another.

There was something more, though. I had a dream before that, I know I did. Peppermint. I remembered peppermint. Or did I? I glanced to the foot of the bed, then the balcony door, and struggled to remember how I fell asleep in the first place. Nothing. There was a void where I knew clear memories should be.

I took in a deep breath and counted backward from ten, an exercise my mom had taught me long ago. In that slow count, I was not supposed to think or ask my mind a single question. When I reached ten, I could ask one, and only one.

I hesitated after I thought the number one; I had too many questions in my mind. Finally I thought,
What did I dream before?
A picture slid through my mind—me marking Drake’s arm. Glancing at the edge of the bed, I saw the balcony, felt the cold, felt an understanding and determination, but who or what gave me that was now absent. So frustrating.

I reached for the pillow that Drake had be
en lying on and held it to my face. I could smell mint there, but it was not as strong as what my memory was struggling to recall. There was something there, something in that dream; a direction, a reason behind the number seven, a reason behind how or why Drake and I were twisted now and in the past. I wasn’t jealous of Willow anymore, at least not to the same degree.

Maybe it was Drake getting through to me, him knocking down the walls around my heart that was giving me that degree of understanding. How could I fall asleep a broken, insecure girl and wake with forgiveness, determination, and declaration of claim on the very soul that was residing within Drake’s intoxicating image?

I grunted as I struggled with my mind. I couldn’t figure it out. I glanced to the bedside table; the marker was still there. I turned crimson as I imagined him waking up and finding my silent confession on his arm. Where was he?

Normally, I would be able to sense anyone within a half-mile of myself, but after last night I doubted I still had that power
, because right now I could swear I was alone in this house—and the people in Chara never left me completely alone.

I had to get to that palace. I had to search every single dark corner of that wicked place. For what, I didn’t know. Not yet anyway. It had to do with that ghost of an ugly woman. I know it did.

Finding no clear resolution, I grudgingly kicked off my covers and headed for the bathroom, deciding a shower was needed to wake me up. I felt like I’d slept for days.

When I came out, my room was undisturbed. I figured that surely someone would have heard the water running and come to check on me. Maybe I was alone.

I pulled my boots on, found my hoodie, and took a deep breath as I went to search for a way to get back to Esterious.

Two doors down from the room I was sleeping in, I saw a glimpse of Aden. I stopped at the threshold and pushed the door open a little more. He was sound asleep, lying in the center of the bed. I hesitated. I could swear that faintly I could hear a violin around him. As my eyes moved across the room, the sound halted. My glance moved back to Aden. I decided to let him sleep; his dreams were peaceful, and I knew he had to be as exhausted as I felt.

I swallowed nervously, knowing that he was less than a hundred feet from me when I woke up and only five feet from me now, and I couldn’t feel his emotions—that is, unless I really struggled to focus.

I guess they are serious when they say be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it. When I was sick with this insight, I wanted it to go away; I know I said and thought that a million times over. But truth was, I didn’t want it to go away. I just wanted it to go back to normal.

I knew I would have to have my guard up now more than ever. Obviously, souls would have to be right next to me in order for me to sense them, which was not good considering the number of enemies I was accumulating.

The door to the master bedroom was open and the bed was made, so I knew that Olivia and Chrispin were wide awake somewhere. I made my way to the stairs, listening carefully for anyone below. I thought I heard plates moving, but no words, leaving me to doubt that either Chrispin or Olivia were here. Those two thought aloud, which meant someone was always speaking what they were pondering around them.

I stopped in the shadow of the threshold that led to the kitchen. I had caught a glimpse of Preston.

Preston was Drake’s baby brother; he was only six or seven. He was the first person I met from this dimension. Something about him had caused me to feel immediate love and the desire to protect him. Maybe it was the innocent shape of his lush cheeks, or those long curls that were blond at one time but turning darker with each passing day. He was a vision of innocence that made my heart melt each time my eyes found him.

For the oddest reason, I felt relief when I first met him; it was if I were overjoyed that he had found life, peace, and was happy, but that made little sense to me at the time, or even now.

Beyond Drake, I had never felt so connected with another soul at first sight. Preston may have been a child, but his energy carried wisdom well beyond that age; he would say or do things at the right moment that would lead you to believe that he may very well be able to see or sense the future.

His back was to me. I smirked when I saw that his long, dirty blond hair was a ravaged mess. It looked like he hadn’t been awake long. He was wearing Drake’s button up black shirt, and it hung to his feet below the stool he was perched on.

An empty plate was in front of him, and he was gulping a large glass of orange juice. I watched as he sat it down, wiped the mustache of juice off his mouth, then silently began to move his arms.

I furrowed my brow and leaned a little closer. He was signing, but that didn’t make any sense; he could speak, and he could hear. I tilted my head so I could see who he was silently speaking to.

Standing in front of the stove with a spatula in his hand was Drake. He was dressed down: dark jeans and deep purple thermal shirt that seemed to carefully sculpt his lean warrior’s body. His dark hair was waywardly tossed out of his eyes. He didn’t look like a stoic prince right then; he looked like a big brother having a silent argument with a little boy that stared at him as if he were the sun itself.

Drake flipped the omelets he was cooking before he put down the spatula and began to answer Preston in the same fashion.

A slow, sweet smile spread across my awestruck expression. The way he moved his arms, how angelically he shaped each word, was mesmerizing to me. All I knew about signing was the alphabet, but I would give almost anything to know what they were talking about right now. It seemed so poetic, yet casual at the same time.

Preston laughed silently as he rapidly answered Drake in the same manner. This went on until Drake was forced to halt the discussion and retrieve the omelet from the pan and place it on Preston’s plate.

I eagerly waited for them to sign again as I watched Drake pour eggs into the pan to make several more omelets. Once Drake was sure everything was cooking normally, he continued whatever silent argument they were having. Preston moved his head from side to side, then signed something quickly, and whatever he said caused Drake to look to the shadow I was standing in.

I jolted back before he could see me, and when I did I ran into a mountain of a man who cupped my mouth and leaned me against the wall. Scratch man; this was a teen boy, maybe a year or so younger than me, but his grey eyes held far more years in them. My hands braced against his chest, feeling the thin metal armor that all of Drake’s guards wore under their suits.

If he weren’t suffocating the hell out of me, I might have mused at how this boy was surely a heartbreaker; nearly every feature on his face was angelic.

“See me,” he whispered as he ducked his head down to look into my eyes as his grip on me lessened.

It came instantly. His name was Zander. He was an orphaned boy that my Drake had saved long ago. A soothsayer, among other things. He was the only one Drake had unshielded trust with outside of his family, but even that statement wasn’t true—Drake considered him family.

I almost bit his hand in frustration and jealousy when I saw what he really wanted to show me: Donalt telling Drake he needed to take a woman. That he needed to practice for when his queen arrived. Then I saw a clever plan hatched. Zander had the gift of dream persuasion. Together, he and Drake had found a weak-minded girl and used her—her dreams anyway. This girl, who was breathtaking, thought that she had a private relationship with Drake. She worshipped him and was on his arm at every formal occasion. Zander was quick to point out Drake’s bored gaze, his half-hearted attempts to play his role with her.

In a deep, near silent whisper he spoke, “You will not see the real her before the next moon, so when you do see this image know that it is a ploy to bring you down.” He leaned in next to my ear and said, “Give them hell, Sovereign.”

Once that was said, Zander released his hold on me.

“Look who finally woke up,” he said in an elevated voice.

He leaned in the doorway. “I’m heading back now. I’ll be sure to express how hard I tried, yet again, to get you to return.” And with that, he winked at me, then strolled past me out the front door.

My face was flushed with both embarrassment and anger. Zander only wanted to give Drake an excuse before he needed one, but he managed to prove that I was weaker than I thought. I had no idea he was anywhere near me.

As casually as I could, I stepped over the threshold and into the kitchen.

Drake’s entrancing eyes connected with mine instantly; there went my heart again. After countless dreams and a week of being in his presence, I should be over this. My heart should not react this way at the sight of him.

A daring smile lingered on the edges of Drake’s lips as he let his eyes fall to Preston and playfully narrowed his stare at him.

“Your breakfast is almost ready,” Preston said to me as he pulled me to the stool that was next to his.

Okay, so I wasn’t crazy. He could speak and hear. With questioning eyes, I moved my stare back to Drake. He wasn’t looking at me anymore; he was tending to the stove, working that spatula like a short order pro.

“I was going to bring your breakfast up to you and hope that it smelled good enough to wake you up,” he said over his shoulder to me.

I felt butterflies flutter in my stomach and was thankful I woke up on my own. More than likely, he would have taken the way I’d woken up as a rejection to his kindness.

“Is it late?” I asked, glancing to the window, wondering what time it was.

“No, but it would have been nice if you had woken up yesterday.” Drake glanced over his shoulder at me. “I’ve missed you.”

“Yesterday?” I breathed.

He nodded once as he went back to working on breakfast. “We didn’t go to bed until a few hours before dawn, but I thought surely you would wake up last night.”

“I was dreaming deep,” I muttered as I felt Preston’s stare. My gaze met his; this child emanated peace and calm. Even though that d
ream was bothering me, I couldn’t help not being troubled with it at the moment.

For some odd reason, I felt an instinct kick in. I reached my arm around him and pulled his tiny body against mine, wanting assurance that he was breathing, that I could feel his energy, his life in my arms.