FALL (The Senses) (26 page)

“You’re
upset. You know what happens when you’re upset.”

“Xamien,
not now.”
The last time
he’d striped her naked, tied her to his bedpost, then used a spatula to spread
melted hot chocolate all over her body. Then he proceeded to lick it off, even
brought strawberries to dip into it. It had been hours of sheer torture, but he
made her forget whatever she’d been upset about.

The
front door opened and, without looking, she knew it was him. He placed his
hands on her shoulders then felt him crouch down behind her. “Waleron said
we’re leaving now,” he said while massaging gently.

“Yeah.”

“You
know you are always welcome in my Talde,” Xamien said. He squeezed her arms.
“And I don’t mean just for now, Delara. Whether we stay lovers or just friends,
I want you to know that you will always be welcome.”

Her eyes
filled with tears and she went to turn around and hug him when Damien appeared.
He must have been standing around the corner and masking his scent. And no
doubt heard every word they spoke. She wondered if Xamien had known he was
there all along.

“Damien,”
Xamien addressed him then stood. “I’ll be back.”
“He wants to talk to you
alone. I’ll tell Waleron you’re….in the washroom.”

“Thanks
Xamien. You’re a good friend. You know that?”

“Yep.
I do, Kitten.”

Damien
approached, stopping to lean up against the one pillar at the bottom of the
steps. It appeared casual and relaxed, but she smelled the inner rage leaking
from his pores. It gave off a distinct odor of sweat and burning iron. His eyes
remained steady on her and for a second she remembered the man he once was,
before Abby. The virgin-king, the women-hater, the diabolical vamp hunter. Now,
what was left was a man filled with remorse and hatred. After Abby volunteered
for execution, Damien’s hooded eyes had returned and the grief hung over him
like a heavy wool blanket.

“I hate
both men that love you.” When Delara went to refute his statement, Damien
glared so fiercely that she closed her mouth. “Waleron killed the only woman I
will ever love and Xamien is an arrogant ass that deserves to rot in hell.”

Well, it
was nice to know Damien didn’t like her choice in men—not.

She
really had no intention of listening to his shit at the moment. She was halfway
to her feet when he grabbed her arm. She tried to pull away, but his bruising
fingers dug into her skin and he forced her to stand in front of him.

“You
protected Abby, for that I’m in your debt.”

She had
to look away, afraid he’d see the truth in her eyes. God, she wanted to tell
him. She hated knowing Abby lived and Damien was tortured believing she was
dead—executed by Waleron. But Abby had made this decision. She never wanted
Damien to know she was alive. He was known for being one of the greatest vamp
hunters and she was now one of them—a vamp for Damien to kill. 

“Don’t
let him go. Don’t give up on him.”

Delara
wanted to slap him across the face. What the hell did he know? He knew nothing
about her and Waleron’s relationship or lack thereof. Most of the time Damien
had lived as a solitary in Florida. He only came back when he helped with the
Ryzard incident and then when he had to look after Abby during her Transition.

Delara yanked
on her arm, but he held tight. “Let me go, Damien.”

A
haunted look crept across his face and his next words were filled with so much
anguish that any animosity she’d just had suddenly diminished. His hand
released her and his voice grew quiet. “Abby. She gave up on me. She didn’t
believe I could love her after she Turned. She was afraid she’d hurt me.” His
voice became deeper, husky with a menacing tone. “Don’t let him decide for both
of you. Don’t let
anyone
decide.”

The door
opened and Jedrik stood on the threshold. He must have used his visionary
skills and seen them through the door.

“You
okay, Sass?” Jedrik said the words to her, but was looking at Damien.

Damien
never looked away from Delara. He grinded his teeth and she heard the crackling
of his knuckles as he clenched his hands into fists. “I’d have become my own
worst enemy for her,” Damien said. He abruptly turned on his heel and strode
out into the garden.

Damien
would have become a vamp for her and Abby gave up on him. Because she didn’t
trust herself not to hurt him.

Oh god.
Waleron. What happened to us? What have we done? Damien’s words rang through
Delara like a church bell.

Waleron
was afraid he’d hurt her. He gave up on them, because he didn’t trust himself
any longer. But she’d given up on them too. The trust had been eaten alive by
their fear of hurting one another.

But she
kept holding on. All these years, an ember of hope still burned in her heart.
It was Waleron. She couldn’t live without him. There was something in the way
he held her in his arms, the way his fingers curled in her hair, how his eyes
looked at her and actually saw what’s inside. When he walked, when he stood,
god it was just something in him.

But how
could she convince him to hold onto them when he refused to feel? When he kept
numbing his emotions? Balen said he’d never let Danielle go, no matter what.
But to fight the Wraiths? To risk Waleron’s Taldeburu? How could she do that?
What if she failed?

She was
afraid to let him in, but wasn’t she drowning without him? Wasn’t he worth the
risk? She fought the Wraiths for Balen’s life. Why did she hesitate to fight
for the man she loved?

She
loved Waleron. Nothing would ever change that.

“Sass?”
Jedrik put his arm around her waist. He pushed a strand of hair aside and
tucked it behind her ear.

A stray tear slipped from her eye
and slid down her cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb. “I’ve been
suffocating for so long. I thought it was…I thought it was because he overprotected
me, but—” Delara inhaled sharply and held back the sobs that threatened to fall
at her next words, “but it’s because I can’t breathe without him.”

Chapter
10

Waleron came up behind Delara out
on the front doorstep, nodded to Jedrik then took her hand. She was about to
ask him to wait so she could talk to him, but he Traced them before she could
say anything.

She found herself in Xamien’s
front courtyard—alone. Waleron was already gone. She took out her cell and
tried to call him, but it went straight to voicemail. There was no point
leaving a message; she didn’t even know what she was going to say, just that
she needed to talk to him. Damien’s words were still steamrolling her and she
needed this. Both of them did.

Xamien’s house, or rather
Xamien’s medieval castle, was a place Delara always felt she could escape to.
It sat on a hill overlooking a river. The massive stone structure had four
towers and a courtyard out of a fairytale book. Wild flowers were scattered
across the yard, lining a pebbled path that led around to the side of the
house. Steps led up to the entrance that had arched double doors made of solid
wood with lit sconces on either side.

Xamien appeared beside her. “He
left?”

Delara nodded.

Xamien was silent for several
seconds. She knew he could feel her conflict; he was a Reflection. “Tomorrow I
want to take you somewhere. It’s remarkable this time of year.” He touched her
arm. “Delara. We’ve been friends a long time. That will never change, Kitten.
So don’t shut me out.”

No, Xamien didn’t deserve that.
“You’ve always been there for me, Xamien. When I needed you…you understood. I
won’t ever forget that. You’re an amazing man.” She half-smiled. “But don’t let
that go to your head, okay?”

Xamien nodded then dug into his
pocket and took out his phone. He pressed a few times on the screen, and handed
it to her. “He sent this to me when you were talking to Damien.”

It was a text message from
Waleron:

Tracing her to Spain then
I will be unreachable for several hours. I trust you can protect her. But touch
her and you initiate war.

Delara returned his phone, and
noticed her hand was shaking. Xamien steadied it. “I know something has changed
between us, but I’d like to hear it from you.”

“Xamien I—”

“Sir! Sir!” Glunk came running
down the stone steps shouting. He was a husky, short man who often wore
soccer—aka football—shirts. He also had this odd affection for a pair of
checkered yellow, blue, and red running shoes.

Xamien stepped forward.

“Sir,” Glunk called. He rushed a
bow in greeting to Delara then turned to Xamien. “Sir, it’s Abby. She—Max went
to give her the usual bag of blood and Abby attacked her.” Xamien was already
running towards the house and Glunk ran after him. Delara followed. “Sir,
Jasper is trying to subdue her. I told him he couldn’t kill her. He wasn’t
pleased, sir.”

“How long?” Xamien shouted as
they barged into the massive stone foyer. The chandelier hanging two stories
above swayed at the sudden impact of the front doors meeting the stone walls
behind them.

“Fifteen minutes maybe.”

Delara ran after Xamien down a
hallway, through the kitchen, and then up the long set of spiraling stairs that
led to Abby’s room.

Xamien inserted a key into the
old iron lock, then yanked open the door and strode inside.

Delara went to follow when Glunk
stopped her. “No miss. It’s not a good idea. She’s in a state I’ve never seen
before.”

There was a big-screen TV on the
back wall and a black leather couch with lime green and white throw pillows in
the middle of the room. She’d sat on the couch last time she was here and
watched a movie with Abby. The witch-vamp had hardly spoken.

Abby’s hissing screech came from
around the corner and Delara darted past Glunk. She halted as she reached the wide
living room with one wall made completely of floor-to-ceiling stained glass
windows. In the middle of the room was a white carpet with a blotch of red, and
on it was Max bunched in a ball on the floor, her hands covering her neck and
blood dripping between her fingers.

“Abby, Christ!” Xamien stood
several feet away, Abby was blocking his path to the girl. “What are you doing?
It’s Max. Jesus.”

A scarier than hell guy stood on
the opposite side of the room with freshfingernail scratches down the side of
his face. He had tribal tattoos running the length of his arms and, emphasizing
his hard-ass biker look, he wore ripped jeans and a black T-shirt with skulls
on it. Both fit snug, which showed off his lean-muscled body. He communicated
with all in the room except Abby.
“Vamp in the house? Not cool. Heard she’d
been executed.”

“Nope,”
Xamien responded.

“Damn. Another pet.”

“Pet?”
Delara asked.
“Never mind, I don’t want to know. Who is he?”

“Jasper. Mercenary. Assassin.
Friend. Rogue Senses. I asked him to come and stay while you’re here.”

Jasper gestured to Max with a
jerk of his chin.
“Chick raised by vamps?”

Xamien nodded
.

“Damn! Finally get to meet
her. Babe disappears every time I show up here.”

“You’ve been here three times,
Jasper. And she doesn’t like people.”

Abby snarled at Jasper, her
pointed fangs flashing. There was still blood on her lips from biting Max. God,
poor Abby. She had no control over who she was anymore.

Delara watched as Abby guarded
her prey like a wild animal. Circling Max, eyes watching the men for any
movement. Delara sidled to the right against the wall then dropped down to her
hands and feet.

“What do you think you’re
doing?”
Xamien asked while keeping his eyes on
Abby.

“Helping Max, while you guys
distract her,”
Delara replied.
“Jasper, can you
get her to turn towards you?”

“No heroics, Jasper. We don’t
need anyone getting hurt,”
Xamien said.
“Kitten,
be careful. I’m uncertain what’s happening with Abby. This isn’t like her.”

“Hey witch-vamp, you remember
Damien?” The moment Jasper mentioned Damien, Abbywhirled around to face him
.
“Well, that worked rather nicely.”

Xamien rolled his eyes heavenward
and Delara swore beneath her breath.

“Damien thinks she’s dead? Yeah?”
Jasper asked.

“I said distraction, not a
memory that might send her into a wild frenzy!”

“Wild frenzy sounds good to
me.”

Xamien grunted.
“Masochist.”

Jasper shrugged.

Delara crawled across the floor,
the scent of blood was overpowering as she made her way towards Max. She didn’t
know the woman very well—like Jasper said, Max kept to herself when anyone came
to the house. From what Xamien had told her, Max was raised in a horde of vamps
who abused her for years. Max was also a Senses, although there was no
indication as to what kind.