Daughter Trilogy Bundle (89 page)

"You want to know something you don't know?"

"Yes.  Please."

"I could see your swirling eyes while I was still mortal.  I never saw anyone else's eyes swirl while I was mortal," I confess.

He smirks a little and shakes his head.  "That's because you're not supposed to be able to, but you never cease to amaze me.  I do like knowing it was only mine you saw," he smolders before pulling me closer to him.  "But, that's not going to help me find amazing ways to show you a good time for eternity.  Tell me something else.  Where have you always wanted to go?  What's the one thing you've always wanted to do, but you were too scared to try it?  What's something you've never had the money to do?  What's-"

"Whoa.  Easy boy," I giggle out.  "I think I get the point."

He grins a little at my joking interruption, and I shrug.

"I've always wanted to ride a horse, but not on the beach - too cliché.  I've always wanted to go to Greece, and that was before I knew about my heritage," I chuckle.  "I never had the money to go to Greece, so the two overlap.  I'm completely unremarkable in the ambition department, so you shouldn't be stressing about scheduling my immortal calendar with everything fantastic thing you can fit in."

"I want to.  I've been waiting on a reason to plan ahead, and there's never been one more perfect than you," he murmurs as he pulls the back of my hand to his lips.

His words resonate, and then intrigue strikes me.  "You can see the future of the mortals anytime, right?"

"Yeah, why?" he muses.

"Does the future extend past two days?"

He sighs and his eyes show understanding for my line of questioning.

"It does, but that doesn't mean anything.  I can only see their lives and how they would be if unobstructed by immortals.  If I can't see the immortal, then I can't see the impact they could have.  It's definitely misleading."

"Oh," I grumble.

"We're going to get through this though.  I don't need a vision to know that.  I'm not going anywhere until I'm your husband," he genuinely declares.

"I can't believe our wedding was interrupted," I huff.  "Where's my dress?"

He flinches slightly and walks over to his bag.  He pulls out a smaller bag and tosses it to me very reluctantly.

"I really didn't know what I should do with it, so I kept it."

"Kept what?" I ask while staring at the very small bag.

"Your dress," he murmurs softly with a secretive face.

"My dress wouldn't fit in here.  The train alone was too big to fit in here," I chuckle out.

He grimaces slightly, and it takes him a minute to sigh out, "It didn't fit in there before the fight, but
… it did after."

I warily unzip the bag that can't possibly be holding my dress, and I gasp when I'm proven wrong.  Small, tattered bits are all that remain of the dress I had planned to start my life in, and a single fake rose lies intact.

I pull it out, and look at the ravaged shards of fabric crumbled in the bag.

"Holy ripped up wedding dress.  Please tell me I wasn't wearing this in front of everyone," I worry.

"Only for a few seconds.  I quickly covered you up, and I'm sure you can believe that," he murmurs very dryly.

I smile a little at his agitation for the others having seen so much, and then a blushing hue stings my cheeks.  He pulls me into his arms, and I feel his exhaustion when he neglects to capitalize on our extreme closeness.

"Go to sleep," I murmur gently into his ear.

He smirks a little, and his lips graze mine.  His soft breaths are rattling against my hair, and I feel his strong grip pulling me as close as he can get me.

"Are you going to sleep with me?" he asks hopefully.

"I think I've slept for long enough, but I'll stay here until you fall asleep.  I love you."

"I love you," he mutters in an even more exhausted tone, and almost instantly he's sleeping peacefully.

My finger gingerly brushes the line of his strong cheek, and it strolls down his defined jaw until it reaches his neck.

I kiss his chest as I crawl out of his arms, and I contemplate just sitting here and watching him.  I sigh when I realize there's only one day after tonight.  One day to find all the answers.

I gingerly creep down the stairs, and whispers ring to my ears the farther down I get.

"I still don't know what we're going to do," Persia sighs.  "The daughters of Athena are our most deadly counterpart.  You know as well as I do they'll have Medusa spawn there as well now that they know Kahl is really alive."

I don't allow anyone to answer.  I don't want to stumble into another full blown argument about me and their doubts.

"Why does the
Medusa
spawn
want Kahl dead so badly?" I interject.

Their eyes widen when they see me, and it's fairly obvious I'm walking in on a discussion that has recently changed.  It feels as if they're worried I overheard something I wasn't supposed to again.

Kahl sighs as he breaks the awkward silence to answer my question.

"Medusa once turned full armies to stone.  Unlike the fable of Medusa, she could choose whom she turned to stone, and when she did so.  She threatened Kaos, and she told him if he didn't bring forth the army of dead to strike down her most hated adversary, she would turn him to stone.  Kaos hated threats, and to say he responded viciously would be an understatement.

"My father spent the bulk of his life as a monster among the immortal world, but he never sought to inflict harm among his own unless provoked.  His worst crimes were against the unsuspecting mortals.  I've lived with those demons for centuries, and you'll face your own struggles with such."

Note to self, stop learning about your heritage.

"Okay.  So, Kaos stomped Medusa, and now all of her descendents wish to do the same to his bloodline," I sum up.

"There's a lot of descendents too.  Fire Nuris are never too far behind.  They love and cherish the Medusa spawn."

"Explain a Nuri, please.  I'm still playing catch up," I grumble.

"Nuri entities are the third wave of our kind.  The embodiments of earth's excess energy, but they're not weaker in anything other than title.  They gather little respect, and they certainly have a chip on their shoulder about it.  They fight just to be fighting most times, and those who are our allies are still not deemed trustworthy."

"How can you tell the difference?" I ask curiously.

"Their eyes.  The stronger the lineage, the stronger the power in the eyes.  Swirls and flares such as ours are the strongest.  Theirs will glaze dimly and offer only a subtle change," he clarifies.

"So there's just a whole lot of everyone trying to kill us… Not just Safina and Athena's spawn," I huff.  Then my eyes turn to Theia.  "How did you stop the army of dead when they came after you?" I ask, foaming at the mouth for insight.

"I didn't," she murmurs with a shiver.  "The first time they came, Phillip threw my blood to the ground when I couldn't move.  The second time they came, Eycleus stood at my side, and he forced them back into the ground," she mutters.

"Eycle… who?" I stutter.

"Eycleus.  He was the keeper of the dead, and he was the first to control the army of dead.  He pulled forth a group of mortals to allow them the opportunity to exact revenge on the immortals who had wrongfully ended their life too soon.  The unfinished souls poured back into their flesh, and they stalked the immortals.

"Many died, and Eycleus decided the power was too great to use.  Unfortunately, others found they had the same ability, and the consequences for his unexpected discovery were grave, destructive, and it would forever change the weight of power.  Eycleus spent the remainder of his time putting the armies back to sleep."

"So he's dead now.  Great.  Anyone else who can do that?" I gripe.

"No.  That's why we're still sifting through every scheme we can.  Something has to fall into place at some point," Theia exasperates while rubbing her aching head.

"Has anyone slept since we left the beach house?" I ask while staring around at all the weary faces.

"No," Jace grouches.  "We've been trying to come up with something… anything at all."

Camara is propped up on Deacon, and I can see her eyes begging to close.  Jace walks over to join me on the couch, and his arm rests around my shoulders a little too effortlessly.

He leans back to nestle into an oversized pillow, and I lean against him as Theia pulls out a book.

"This is a journal I started years ago to help me remember anything that might have seemed insignificant at the time, but could help us now.  The truth is, without a grave-raiser, there's not too much we can do.  Van will go straight for you the moment you're in sight.  The moment his eyes penetrate yours, you'll be lost in fear before you can even strike," Theia sighs in dismay.

"We're still talking gloom and doom," Devin's voice chirps from the entryway.

His eyes narrow at Jace when he sees me propped against him, and he walks over to sit in the chair across from us.

"I thought you were asleep," I murmur softly.

His jaw tenses before he says, "I see that."  His eyes flash between me and Jace, and then he motions for me to join him.  "It appears I can't sleep too well without you anymore," he grumbles.

I smirk a little as I free myself from Jace and walk over to fall into the open arms waiting for me.  Devin's lap is warm and welcoming, and I snuggle into his shirtless body.

"Forget your shirt?" Jace scoffs.

"Forget she's mine?" Devin retorts.

"Yours?  Last I checked she was still wearing one ring, not two," Jace growls.

"I think we're all a little tired," Theia exasperates in interruption.  "Let's not start arguing right now.  There's more at stake here than pride."

Devin's not worried about pride.  He just hates Jace because Jace thinks he's supposed to be with me.  I love Jace in a completely platonic way.  I feel a connection with him, but not the kind he wants me to.

"I've slept too long, so I'm not tired at all.  Would it be rude of me to ask for your journal?" I ask Theia.

"I don't have anything personal in it.  It's strictly war related stuff.  My eyes have crossed from reading it for so long.  You're welcome to it," she offers.

She hands it to me before Phillip flashes to her side.  He tugs at her hand as his eyes show more fatigue than he can bear any longer.

"We'll talk more tomorrow.  We need rest," he urges, and they disappear before anyone can say anything else.

"Mom's right.  We're all tired, and it's impossible to think at all when we're this tired.  We need to rest," Devin adds.

"It's hard to sleep when we know we're looking at the mortal equivalent of World War II," Jace huffs while rubbing his eyes.

"World War II was my bad.  It had been a rough couple of days when I sparked that conflict," Deacon snips.  "This is going to be far worse than that for them and us," he continues.

I roll my eyes at the warlord
’s claim, and then Devin scoops me into his arms as he stands.

"Well, it's going to be impossible to fight a well rested army of dead when we're the ones looking like zombies.  Get some sleep, and we'll start fresh tomorrow.  If nothing else, we'll find a better hiding ground," Devin asserts.

"We can't hide from the army of the dead.  Van has stared into her eyes now.  He can find her at any time," Camara sighs.

"Then we'll make the others play catch up at least," Devin fires back.

I wriggle free from his arms to touch my toes to the floor.  Jace stretches as he rises to his feet and pats my arm as he walks by.

Devin
’s jaw tenses again, but he doesn't say anything.  He simply pulls my hand in his before tugging me toward the bedroom.

"Why do you encourage him?" he whispers, and it's too low for anyone else to hear.

"What do you mean?" I ask innocently.  "You think I'm encouraging him to chase me because I leaned against him?  He's just a friend," I murmur with a touch of guilt.

"Would you like it if Gemma and I were curled up on the couch together?" he snarks.

Hell to the no.

"I've never fucked Jace.  You can't say the same about her," I gripe.

He flinches at my callous remark and then shuts the door to the bedroom behind us.

"You wouldn't like it if any girl was curled against me the way you were him," he adds.

"No I wouldn't," I admit.  "I'm sorry."

His arms fold around me, and he tilts my chin up with the tip of his finger so that his lips have a better angle at mine.  The soft fire sizzles into my mouth, and his watery douse sends steam throughout the room.

"Just remind him you're mine," he murmurs gently against my lips.

"I do
… frequently," I mumble with such a seduced breath.

His lips close over mine more fervently, and I feel his hands gripping me almost too tight as something behind me explodes from the impact of my body being shoved against it from the violent seduction.