FALL (The Senses) (20 page)

“It will
kill him.” Delara met the Wraith’s eyes dead on. “Imprison him? Take his
Taldeburu away? He has done nothing but give his loyalty and this is what he
gets?” It had to be Edan causing the trouble in the Realm. The Fire Wraith had
it out for Waleron for centuries, even before Delara slept with him.

Xamien
stepped forward and took her hand, giving a squeeze.
“Careful Kitten, she is
the kindest of Wraiths, but still a Wraith.”

Genevieve
spoke as if Delara hadn’t interrupted, “Waleron is one of the most powerful. We
are here to see that all Senses abide by all our laws.”

“He
isn’t breaking any goddamn law.”

“Damn
it, Delara. Cool it.”

“Ah, my
dear, you protect him. That’s good. He needs someone to stand at his side.”
Genevieve glanced at Xamien. “Go to Spain. I will do what I can to pacify those
that wish to put Waleron away.” A cool mist dispersed around them and Genevieve
was gone.

Delara
escaped, running down the hall and into the guest bathroom where she slammed
and locked the door.

It was
an enormous bathroom with a marble counter and two sinks with towering taps
that looked like arched swan necks. The shower was the most impressive. It had
sleek and silver-gray marble walls which ran the length of the bathroom. Glass
encased it on three sides, from the ceiling to the floor, with an almost
indistinguishable glass sliding door on the far end.

She undressed
then stepped in the shower and turned on the water. The spray hitting her skin
was like a punch in the gut. She collapsed to her knees. The hot spray trailed
over her hair, her neck, her shoulders, and then down her back, soaking the
material to her skin. She felt tears streaming down her cheeks and mixing with
the water as she raised her head, letting the water strike her face. Sliding to
the sidewall, she pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them.

Every
morsel in her body shivered with anxiety. Genevieve appearing had thrown her.
The thought of Waleron being imprisoned for…what? Because he was protecting
her? Because he hated Tarek, a man that abused her for years? Because he was
acting irrational? Wasn’t Delara acting irrational? She’d been on the
rollercoaster of making thoughtless decisions for years.

But
Waleron was a Taldeburu and if he broke, bent, or even thought about going
against any law, rule, or oath, the Wraiths had to take action.

How
could she leave his Talde? The reality was leaving Waleron behind was
eviscerating. She was lying to herself when she thought she could live without
him again.

Xamien’s
words ran across her mind, back and forth like a ping pong game. He owned her
body. No. Her body belonged to only one man. Waleron. A man who desired her,
yet refused to take her for his own. She could admit that now. Even after
Trinity’s bargain with him—sex for one week in exchange for her visions—Delara
belonged to him.

But what
she wanted—what she desired and what she prayed for—was for Waleron to hold her
in his arms because he loved her. But Waleron wouldn’t let go and feel. Trapped
behind his drug, he let her go a long time ago and she wasn’t getting him back.
The Wraiths separating them was the final hatchet.

Her
finger slid over the faint scar on her thigh; her last cut. In New Orleans, the
day he found her in the shower. She pressed hard into the flesh, the need to do
it again strong, yet she knew it was wrong. A jagged, white line was visible on
her shin. That happened after he slept with her and walked out. There were
several more on her arms from that week of hell, then the moment she discovered
she was pregnant. She felt such excitement, fear, anxiety. Losing her child at
birth and not having Waleron to hold her as she wept herself to sleep every
night for months almost killed her.

Oh
God, Waleron
. She cradled
her knees to her chest as the water continued to soak her. She had nothing left
to survive him. Her own lies were killing her. She tried to believe that she
wanted him out of her life, but that was a lie. To her. To him. Even to Xamien.

Delara
didn’t know how long she sat beneath the spray sobbing—feeling scared and
lonelier than she’d ever been when the lock slid across on its own and the door
opened. She froze. Xamien stood on the threshold, wearing jeans and a white
T-shirt, and his hair was still damp from his shower. He closed the door behind
him, never once losing eye contact.

He
strode towards the shower, opened the glass door and walked inside. Without a
word he picked her up, grabbed a towel from the hook, and carried her from the
bathroom into her bedroom. He toweled off her shivering body then dressed her.
He urged her to sit on the bed, and she leaned up against the wall, bringing
her knees up to hug her arms around them.

He sat
beside her and urged her head to lean against him. He never said a word and eventually
she relaxed while he stroked her wet hair.

They sat
like that until, finally, she stopped shivering. No words passed between them.
She didn’t think she could manage putting two words together with any sort of
intellect. She realized that’s what Xamien was doing for her—lending her his
strength. Something Jedrik may have done if she had asked it of him.

Somehow
knowing she could handle the rest on her own, Xamien kissed her forehead and
left.

****

When
Delara finally managed to collect herself an hour later, she came out of the
bedroom and went upstairs. She noticed Xamien first, looking out the kitchen window,
and then Waleron by the island.

Both men
looked up at her appearance.

The
unavoidable comparison began as she looked from one to the other. Complete
opposites in personality—Waleron intense and scowling with his power emanating
from every pore while Xamien looked relaxed and at ease, but fearless, his
power evident from his confident stature.

Both
were tall, although Xamien was an inch taller. Waleron was broader in the
shoulders. Xamien looked like he could outrun a cheetah and Waleron was built
like he could take down a rhino.

“Delara,”
Waleron nodded. All his attention was on her and she avoided his eyes, unable
to stand up to his ice-cold intensity. “What’s wrong?”

She made
certain every single shield was in place then double-checked. The last thing
she wanted was Waleron reading the images of her in bed with Xamien. It
shouldn’t matter, but it did.

Xamien’s
brows rose awaiting her answer.

“Ah,
nothing. All’s peachy.”

“Peachy?”
Waleron frowned.

Shit,
she never said peachy. Changing the subject was her best avoidance. “Anyone get
a lead on Tarek? Was it him with the darts?”

Waleron’s
voice was harsh, as if he was having difficulty pushing the words through his
tense throat. “The scents were masked. No leads. Ryker and I scoured the city
last night. Nothing. But a veterinary clinic on the outskirts of the city was
broken into. Dormitor was the only drug stolen. And lots of it. Safe was broken
into as well.” Something was bothering him.

As both
the men she cared about stood before her, she contemplated what she was doing.
Xamien was the Taldeburu of the European Senses. He was standing beside the man
she loved all her life. The man who protected her. Who she was going to be torn
away from—like she always said she wanted. Lies. All lies. She never thought
they’d be broken apart. Now it was glaring them in the face and the only way
she could save him, ‘cause he’d be destroyed without his Taldeburu, was to
leave him.

“Kitten,
stop. Whatever is going through your head is a roar of emotions and they are
swarming me,”
Xamien said.
“We’ll deal with it, okay?”

It was
the perfect moment for Jedrik to stroll in and wrap his arm around her waist
and place a kiss on her cheek. “Hey Sass. Why did you use all the hot water?
Frig Sass, an hour?”

Waleron’s
scowl deepened.

She
lowered her head and hid her face from all the men. 

Xamien
came to her rescue. “We will assume it was Tarek,” Xamien said to Waleron. “His
aim was directed at Delara. That amount of Dormitor may have killed her.”

The
muscles in Waleron’s arms flexed. “I suspect Tarek does not want Delara going
anywhere or it was a warning.”
“Delara, what is wrong? Something is off with
you.”

Off?
Damn right it was off. A Wraith just came and told her he might be imprisoned.
Waleron told her she had to go to another Talde temporarily, but it could be
permanently. So yeah, Delara was disintegrating. Even if she wanted, she
couldn’t crumble in his arms and beg him to take her back, because then he’d be
ripped of his Taldeburu.

“So we
hunt Tarek tonight?” Jedrik asked with excitement in his voice. “Delara and I
will take the West end of the city. With Xamien, of course.”

“She
will be on the jet,” Waleron stated.

“Sorry,
I tried, Sass.”
Jedrik
shrugged.

“Thanks
Jedrik, but, I have to go.”

“He’s
just worried about you. It would kill him if anything ever happened to you.”
Jedrik had no idea that it was much more
than that.
“Sass, Tarek is a direct threat to you. It’s different. If Tarek
killed you, what do you think Waleron would do? Tarek knows how to kill us, he
knows about Healers, knows our weaknesses. And now we find out he has help.”

“Xamien,
you good to fly home with her?” Waleron asked.

Xamien
glanced at her and she saw a hint of unease. “Yes. It’s best we leave
immediately.”
“I think Waleron will lose it if we mention Genevieve’s visit.
Best we leave that alone. Agreed?”

“Yeah.”
If Waleron knew they were
considering imprisoning him, it would make matters worse.

Waleron
glanced sharply between her and Xamien and Delara knew he sensed them using mind
to mind. Jedrik was oblivious as he sauntered over to the fridge and helped
himself to a swig of orange juice. She held her breath, her eyes wide with
apprehension at the thought of Waleron knowing she’d been kissing Xamien right
under his nose. It bothered her. A lot.

She was
fully aware that this was very different from when he had found out about Edan
and then Liam. It had not mattered then. It mattered now. Why? God, why did it
matter? Because her own lies were beginning to eat away at her. She was beginning
to see that Waleron needed her. That maybe it was her turn to protect him and
if that meant leaving him then she’d do it. Waleron had been tortured enough in
his life.

“Delara,
a minute,” Waleron said and respectfully gave a nod to Xamien and Jedrik.

She
jerked, her eyes tearing away from Xamien. Jedrik kicked the fridge closed and,
with a shrug, sauntered out of the kitchen. Xamien wasn’t so forthcoming. He
hesitated for a good thirty seconds, his eyes never once leaving Delara’s face
as she stared at the floor as if it had the most fascinating pattern.

Xamien
pushed away from the counter, sliding past her without touching.
“You need
me, just ask,”
Xamien said.

Delara didn’t
respond.

As soon
as Xamien left, Waleron approached, his hand cupping her chin so he could raise
her head and meet her eyes. “You communicate with Xamien mind to mind.” It was
a statement of fact, not a question. “Have you sensed any of his powers?”

“Excuse
me?” Okay, that was not the question she’d expected.

“His
mother is half witch and excels at spells, his father was a Reflection. Xamien
is said to have both inside him, however he speaks nothing of his abilities and
uses them cautiously.”

“Oh
well, I... Well he hasn’t told me anything. I mean all I know is...” he likes
to be in control. She quickly abolished the thought. “Well, he can get past my
shields.”

Waleron
raised his brows at that and then she felt his finger gently caressing the
cleft on her chin. “Does he interfere, Delara?”

Meaning
does Xamien intrude on her thoughts. “No. He respects my privacy.” She needed
to get away before she jumped into his arms. “Think I’ll go shower before we
leave.” She turned away, and Waleron’s hand dropped from her chin.

“You
already did. For an hour according to Jedrik,” he said, his voice quiet.
“Delara?”

She
closed her eyes biting her lower lip, wishing she had a cut on her body she
could sink her fingers into and stop the emotional upheaval that was making her
stomach toss. But the cuts were an excuse; they made the hurt physical, but the
emotional pain was still there. She was beginning to realize that she had to
heal herself on the inside in order to stop the cutting. Learn how to deal with
her emotional hurt instead of trying to escape it.

He came
up behind her; she felt his body inches from hers as he put his hands on her
shoulders. The familiar gesture sent her head spiraling. Now...now she wanted
to just be able to keep her heart intact. She had to leave. Maybe forever. Fate
was often cruel.