FALL (The Senses) (19 page)

Jedrik
ran his hand through his blond locks. “Jesus that was a close one.”

“It was
meant for me. He...he pushed me out of the way.” The horror affected Delara
more than she cared to admit. One moment he’d been kissing her and the next he
was on the ground and white as death. She reached up and smoothed his hair back
with a gentle sweep of her index finger.

She
never heard Jedrik leave the room nor did she notice Waleron standing in the
doorway.

Chapter
6

Waleron
had received the call from Jedrik about the darts and Traced to the house. He
immediately ordered Damien and Ryker to scout the area. He called Balen in to
assist with making certain all the perimeters were secure. Obviously, someone
had been able to get close enough to the Talde house without being detected
until the last minute.

He ran
down the stairs looking for Delara. It had been close. Too close. His heart was
racing a marathon as he thought of what could have happened. If the darts had
hit their target…

Waleron
stopped dead in front of the open guestroom door—watching. Delara sat at
Xamien’s bedside, her hand gently smoothing back his hair. Her eyes were filled
with sorrow and her brows were lowered. She was worried. There was a quietness
about her, as if shewas caring for someone she knew… No. That was impossible.
She just met Xamien. They were virtual strangers.

She
is mine! Delara belongs to me!

He felt
like he’d been punched in the gut by his most loyal warrior. His Scar shifted
violently on his neck, their rage building to a catastrophic level. No pills
were going to ease the Scar this time and he knew he’d have to escape before he
lost control.

He
Traced home and walked to the basement where he unlocked the door to his steel
room. The room was virtually bare except for the chains attached to the wall
and a steel box on the floor that contained medical supplies just in case he required
them. Asking a Healer here was out of the question.

He
locked then bolted the door.

His Scar
was now traveling up and down his arms, then back up to curl around his neck and
slither across his chest. He felt the uncontrollable urge to smash his fist
through something, to kill, to destroy—it was magnified within seconds. He
quickly locked the chains around his wrists and ankles.

The Scar
was now at full power, along with the anger it carried from all Waleron’s
lifetime, letting loose as it swirled across his body, the movement making his
skin feel like it was on fire. His flesh crackled as the snake hissed and fed
off the encapsulated anger that was racing through him.

He was
becoming his Scar and it was pissed.

Torment
ripped apart his insides as his Scar chewed through every part of him, feeding
off his flesh, teeth tearing, pieces of skin being ravaged.

It went
on for hours and Waleron could no longer withstand the pain. He finally
screamed out, throwing his head back, his muscles tightening as the snake moved
angrily. His screams echoed again and again until the Scar, tiring of its rage,
settled back into place on his neck.

Waleron
collapsed and he hung limp in the chains, his throat and body raw. He closed
his eyes, exhausted, and a fleeting image of Delara swept across his mind.

****

Xamien
felt like he had been hit by a train then dragged over rocky terrain for
hundreds of miles. His head pounded and every muscle ached. It took him three
tries to open his eyes, but luckily the room being in darkness alleviated some
of the agony. He went to raise his hand when he felt soft fingers laced with
his.

Delara.
He watched her sleeping form with utter
fascination. She was sitting in a chair beside the bed, her hand resting in
his. Her cheek lay on her crossed arms and her breath was slow and rhythmic. At
one time, they were in opposite places. When she came to him after losing her
child she was grieving and, between them, a bond had formed—trust, nothing
sexual. Then she watched Waleron choose Trinity and she’d been desolate and
hurting. For days he sat at her bedside holding her hand, feeding her homemade
soup. It was that visit to Spain where they’d become intimate.

With his
free hand, he stroked the side of her cheek, not wanting to wake her, but
needing to touch her skin. She instantly jolted, sitting up with her brilliant
eyes wide with alarm. He was glad when she didn’t release his hand.

Their
eyes met and it took all his restraint to avoid pulling her beneath him and
sinking his mouth over hers in a deep kiss. Just looking at her weary
expression, those sweet luscious lips, and jagged, Telwar-cut strands of hair
flouncing in every direction had his body forgetting about the aches and pains.

“Someone
didn’t like the idea of you kissing me,” Delara teased. She attempted to slip
her hand from his, but he wasn’t ready to let her go.

“You
know damn well that wasn’t meant for me.” Any enemies he had were in Europe, at
least that he knew of. He touched where the dart had punctured his neck.
Whatever was in it, it sure had some kick. God, he should’ve sensed the bloody
thing coming at them sooner. What happened? You were distracted, Xamien
reminded himself.

She
squeezed his hand. “Thank you Xamien.”

“Door
locked?” Xamien asked. Without waiting for a reply he focused his attention and
slid the bolt in place, wincing at the pain it caused his mind for such a
simple action. Delara suddenly looked like a frightened rabbit, but he ignored
her response and tugged on her hand. “Keep me warm, Kitten.”

“What?”
she sputtered. “Xamien, I told you not here. Anstice will be coming to check on
you and—”

“I’m not
asking.” He gave another tug and half dragged her onto the bed beside him. “No
one would dare unlock that door.” No way was he wasting another second over her
fears. He had no intention of making passionate love to her tonight—although
the thought was tempting—but he was going to feel her body up against him while
he slept for the next twelve hours.

Xamien
gave another sharp jerk and she landed with her back to his chest, just the way
he wanted it. He wrapped his arm over her waist and tucked his head into the
crook of her neck, breathing in her sweet, succulent scent that already had his
temperature rising to an incredible height. “Stop struggling, Delara.” His tone
was gruff and assertive.

She did
and he heard her sigh. The corners of his lips curved upwards and he chanced a
quick kiss on the side of her neck which, to his delight, caused goosebumps on
her skin.

“It was
Dormitor,” Delara said. “Someone tried to—”

“I care
not, sweetness. I live and now I have you in my arms to keep me warm. That’s
all I wish to think upon.”

“But—”

She
tried to turn around and face him but he kept her immobile. “Kitten, can we
just lay here quiet please? I need a moment.”

It took
her half an hour before she relaxed in his arms and then another ten minutes
before she finally fell asleep. Only then did he let himself nod off.

When
Delara woke at dawn, she was still locked in Xamien’s embrace. His fingers were
stroking her hair while his other hand was under her shirt and caressing her
stomach. She felt a flicker of wetness on the base of her neck. Then his lips
were suckling her ear, which had her wide awake and pulling towards the edge of
the bed.

“No.”
Xamien purred, pulling her back into his arms. “It is not time to rise. Well,”
he chortled. “It can’t be helped for some areas. You tend to do that to me.”

Her body
stiffened. Months ago she’d have yearned to immerse into the sweet pleasure of
his arms and whatever else he tempted her with, but in Spain, not here. It was
different here. And different now. This was her home. She’d already fallen
asleep in his arms. Now the entire Talde would know, which meant Waleron too.

 “Xamien.
You promised.”

“Did I?”
he replied while kissing the back of her neck.

“Xamien,
we can’t do this here.” Delara rolled over to face him.

He
leaned forward and nibbled on her upper lip. Then he kissed her eyes, the tip
of her nose, and her lips. “Yes we can, sweetness.”

They’d
been doing this for years but now…now it felt wrong. God, it pounded into her
head like a sledge hammer. It felt like she was betraying Waleron. Stupid. How
could she betray him when he refused to love her? But this…this with Xamien was
casual. It shouldn’t matter. It wasn’t as if she was throwing the new love of
her life into Waleron’s face.

Xamien
grabbed her chin. “He’s in bed with us.”

She slowly
lowered his hand from her, then leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his
lips. He was referring to Waleron of course. “Please Xamien.”

Xamien
was laid back, but there was this intensity in him that was, in a way, stronger
than Waleron’s. It was his calm that made him dangerous. If Xamien fought, she
knew he’d never lose his cool; he’d be relentless and patient. Waleron had rage
burning inside him that threatened to explode at any moment. He fought with
cold, detached anger.

Xamien
rolled onto his back, his hands gripping the headboard. “Kitten, I need to own
you and you won’t let me.”

“You
will never own me, Xamien.”

“True,
but I own your body in Spain.”

“Oh get
over yourself.” She hit him in the chest and he grunted in dramatic fashion.

Xamien
laughed and made a grab for her again. She loved that he could let go of the
seriousness easily. But her mind was still fractured with thoughts of Waleron.

“I need
to shower.” Delara scrambled from his reach so fast that she fell off the bed
and landed in a heap on the floor. She swore beneath her breath while climbing
to her feet. She avoided looking at Xamien, although from the corner of her eye
she saw him sit up and watch her.

“I could
do with a shower myself,” Xamien teased and proceeded to get out of bed, half naked.

Delara
backed up towards the door. “No way, Xamien. I’ll use another bathroom. You use
this one.”

She had
to get out of here. If Waleron came by he’d know she spent the night in
Xamien’s bed and this time he may not be able to... What was she thinking? She
and Waleron were over. This had nothing to do with him. And yet, it always did.

She
yanked open the door just as a mist of cool rain touched her skin. She spun around
abruptly.

“Hello,
Delara. Xamien.” Genevieve, the Wraith of Water stood by the bedroom window in
all her magnificence. It was as if she purposely picked that spot so the
sunlight could emphasize her beauty. The morning rays caught her blond hair,
making it appear almost translucent, while the moisture clinging to her skin
scintillated. Genevieve smiled at Xamien, perusing him up and down as if she
knew intimately what was beneath his jeans. Maybe she did. “It is a pleasure to
see you again, Xamien. You look well.”

“Genevieve.”
He bowed his head in an amicable greeting, however his eyes didn’t match his
address. They were stone cold. “Wonderful timing as usual.”

“You
know I hate to intrude.” Her smile was kind and soft. “Edan wanted to come.”
Her attention turned to Delara. “However, I argued the…personal conflict of him
coming.” Delara noticed Xamien flinch and then shake his head. “I came instead.
It is bad news, I’m afraid.”

Delara’s
heart jumped. God, please let it have nothing to do with Waleron.

Genevieve
glided across the room to stand a few feet away from Delara. She could almost
taste the moisture adhering to the Wraith of Water’s skin. It was refreshing
and yet it still wasn’t enough to ease the panic that was setting in.

“He is
fine, Delara,” Genevieve whispered.

Delara
sighed and let go of her thighs where her nails were digging in.

“But
there is discourse in the Realm. One person in particular is attempting to get
Waleron incarcerated.”

Delara
grabbed the door frame. Oh god, no. He’d never survive that.

“Of
course,” Genevieve continued, “that hasn’t been decided yet, but I think it
best you leave the Talde immediately, Delara.”

Xamien
spoke up. “We had an incident yesterday. So we were delayed. I am taking her to
Spain today.”

Genevieve
nodded then stepped closer so she could reach out and touch Delara’s cheek.
“Tarek Rising is making him act irrational, even with his pills. The Wraiths
see this and they wish to control the situation before it becomes an issue.”
She shifted her feet and her long, pale-blue dress caught the sunlight making
it glitter. “It has been brought to council that Waleron admits to wanting to
kill Tarek, even if he never comes after you. That is murder. We can’t allow
that to happen. You understand if we decide to incarcerate him. It is to
protect him.”