JUMP (The Senses) (25 page)

Balen chuckled and then leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Eternity.”

****

Waleron tested the thick gold bands circling his wrists and ankles. Solid and impossible to abolish. He growled as he paced the room back and forth, his footfalls driving into the floor.
The room was completely bare, not even a door. Gray marble walls, ceiling and floor. A cage with no bars. His nightmare.

They had taken his weapons and his Pez. He fought them on the
latter, but defeating Wraiths was complicated. They had Traced him here hours ago, and he’d been left to stew. Unable to penetrate the cell with his mind, he had no clue if Balen and Danielle had escaped or not. The problem was he had to meet them in Spain for the conversion.

The rage was building, he felt it in his bloodstream, the muscles tensing and his volatile nature eager too erupt. Confinement made the situation intolerable. He was furious with them. How dare they attack before seeking answers from him. Edan had started this. He riled them up and had them attack. If it hadn’t been for Genevieve’s warning, Balen would be in Rest and Danielle dead.

Genevieve. She had something to do with this. He knew there was something odd about her behavior at Balen’s judgment. Her turmoil, the unease, the hesitation to decide on Balen’s fate. Then the sudden change.

He jerked around and stopped pacing.
Speak of the hellion.

Genevieve’s figure emerged out of a
spiraling mist of water, and she stood before him in a classic long blue gown, low cut and sweeping across her curves like a caress.

“Come near me and die,” Waleron said when he saw her take a step towards him.

She stopped and lowered her head, her golden hair falling forward to cover her breasts. “I didn’t want this. My intentions were—”

“What intentions?” He wished he had his damn Pez. Control was fading fast.

“They suffered. They survived what few have ever experienced. I felt it the moment they met in that dungeon of Ryszard’s. Their connection is strong. It came through me like a lightening bolt the moment they met.” She backed up a step and her eyes blazed a brilliant green. “Then your warrior left with no intentions of returning. She was tortured with his memory. When he returned . . . I had to do something.”

“You Bonded them?” Waleron roared skyward. “You almost killed her with your meddling.”

“I meant no harm. I didn’t consider that his judgment would be so harsh. He saved her life.”

“She’s human,” Waleron shouted.

“Yes. But love conquers all.”

“Bull
. You were wrong. Undo it,” Waleron said.

“No.” Her head tilted up and her shoulders stiffened. “It has worked out for the better.”

Waleron ran at her, rage taking control. His hands raised to throw her back against the unrelenting wall. She remained immobile and he figured out why when the gold bands around his wrists and ankles tightened and he was thrown against the opposite wall like a magnet. He tried to move, but the bands locked him in place.

The roar that emerged from his throat was deafening. “Release me
!”

“It is not I. The bands know when you aim to seek harm.” She sighed. “If I undo the Bond, Balen will accept his fate and be sent to Rest.”

“She will die if the others capture him.” Waleron’s voice was low and deadly. He felt the blood boiling in his veins, his heart pounding.

“
No. Now she will become a Senses.”

He growled. “It has never been done before and it could kill her. You risk her life, for what—love? They don’t even know one another. What they feel right now is your stupid Bond.” She was cunning, more so than he had anticipated. “You planned this. You knew the moment judgment
passed on Balen that your Bond would kill Danielle. You had Delara come to me and give warning. You set this in motion, knowing I’d never allow Danielle to die.”

“Yes. She will make the transition and they will have eternity together.”

“You believe in this crap, Genevieve? A love that can withstand centuries?”

“You have seen it—”

“And it always destroys them. As it will Balen. He will die if she does. He will be weak and forget that he is a warrior first and foremost.”

“Like you. You want your warrior to be just like you. Alone and with nothing to lose.”

“It happened already. Balen betrayed us, his sister, his blood for her.” The bands released and he lowered his arms, the sting dissipating in his ankles and wrists.

“But you fight for them. Why?”

“Because he is my warrior. She is a friend to our Healer.”

Genevieve took a deep breath. “I must go. When the time is right I will come for you.” She closed her eyes and then dissolved into a swirling mist and vanished before he had the chance to find out why she would be coming for him.

Within seconds, he discovered why Genevieve had taken off so abruptly. “What have you done, Waleron?”

The voice was soft with a sweet lull, but he knew beneath that voice was a spirit of magnitude. The Goddess Enid
tolerated nothing except her orders being followed. He had met her two times in his life—when he was a child and again after he escaped the Lilac Center World Other who nearly destroyed him.

Coldness seeped into the room as if he were standing in a freezer. A hint of Ralph Lauren’s Romance—she had a thing for it—hit him and then she appeared in human form. She could appear as
anything, but she took on the form of whatever she was engaging.

He remained silent. She knew what he’d
done; the other Wraiths would have informed her in detail.

Her long floor
-length hair was parted in the middle, half cerulean blue and the other half white. It was a stark contrast, and well, she knew it. She always liked being unique.

“You defied judgment. Why?” Her features remained still and impassive, voice quiet and soft, but it was
in her eyes that he read the anger. Colors constantly changing like a rainbow, never remaining the same for longer than a few seconds.

His body was reacting, shaking and beginning to perspire despite the nonexistent temperature. He clasped and unclasped his fists
.
Control
. Lose it now and she’d chain him in this room for eternity.

“A human would have died if Balen was sent to Rest. They are Bonded,” Waleron stated.

“Why did you not mention this at the judgment?”

“I did not know then,” he replied. His rage was clawing at his insides, wanting to be released, eager to taste blood, rip apart anything that could satisfy the rage. The tattoo on his neck began to slither across his skin
, and he knew soon he’d have no control. The bands on his wrists tightened and he took several deep breaths. He needed his Pez and fast. Trapped in a room with a female raised his fury to a boiling point. A reminder of his past that he had trouble keeping bogged down without his Pez.

“Who Bonded them?”

Waleron hesitated. So she didn’t know one of her own was responsible? Interesting. Well, he had no intention of informing her of Genevieve’s meddling, as he might yet require the Wraith of Water’s assistance to get him out of here.

“I do not repeat myself,” she said.

“And I don’t answer to you,” Waleron said. He was eager for the harsh retaliation. He knew pain, lived it, and it had become a familiar and comforting emotion. He never feared it, not like the rage that lived hovering close to the surface, ready to be released.

Instead,
she laughed, her head thrown back and a wide smile gracing her exotic mouth. “The ever-defiant one. I knew that was why I liked you. Just like your mother. You realize that you are the only one ever to speak to me as such. Refreshing and . . . deadly. Have it your way, you will remain here until Balen is brought to justice.” The smile disappeared. “You will be free to walk among us here as a sign of respect. However, the bands will remain.

“
I know of your rage, Waleron. It is to remain intact whilst living among us, or you will spend your days here in this room, which I know it is the last place on earth you would choose to be.”

Before she
evaporated, she floated into the air and peered at him. “I hope for your sake that this matter is resolved. It would displease me greatly to have to replicate your mother’s fate.”

“Like it matters to me,” Waleron retorted. Death. It would end his
torment, stop the rage, the constant need to fulfill the hunger. It called to him every second of every day. He found one thing that calmed it and yet the thought of death was . . . he’d never leave his warriors to fight alone. He’d never leave her to survive this world without him.

Enid tilted her head and for several
seconds, her eyes remained a bright gold. “I like you, Waleron. A great deal. But remember, without me, you and your warriors will cease to exist.”

“And without
us, you will have no one to fight the Center World Others.”

“Touché,” she said. “Well then, it is in our best interests to continue to work together. For the good of all.” Her figure began to dissolve into particles of
brightly-colored specks, and then she disappeared, taking the coldness with her.

The wall in front of him dissolved into nothing and before him was the council room with the fountain. Shit, the Wraiths had more power than they knew what to do with. He rubbed the bands that encased his wrists. One thing was for certain, he was needed elsewhere
, and despite their powers they always had a weakness.

He walked through the council room, down a hall and into what looked like a garden with dozens and dozens of red and white roses. He ignored the glorious flowers and walked the path, headed where, he had no clue, but someplace other than that room he had been trapped in.

His breath sucked from his lungs, and his body froze. The familiar scent slammed into him like a brick wall. He’d never forget it, couldn’t even with all his capabilities. It was one thing he could never get rid of.

Her footsteps.

Her breath.

She was here. Behind him.

He turned.

Danielle
slept for several hours on and off. When she woke she found her hand cradled in his. And it felt good. Okay, she had decided to leave the commitment stuff alone. Besides, she had no choice at the moment anyway, Bonded to him and all. Might as well make the best of it. She had to admit, she wanted him. Just thinking about him made her body heat up like a firecracker.

“You know what?” Danielle said as she fiddled with changing the channels on the radio. “I don’t even know what music you like.” She glanced up at him and saw him shrug, his eyes focused on the road. “No
favorite bands? Come on. ’Fess up, Bale.”

“Bale?” He frowned at the
nickname.

It was her turn to shrug. “Yeah, I like it. Short, sweet
, and—” she gave an exaggerated sigh, “—my favorite actor’s last name. Christian Bale. So hot in
Batman Begins.
I mean, I’d jump his bones in a second, no introduction needed.”

“You will not,” Balen said in a low
, gravelly voice.

She gave her most innocent expression. “Oh, I most definitely would. Did you see the movie? That man comes knocking on my door—”

She didn’t have the chance to finish as he cupped her chin with his hand. “Stay away from this man. And I do not like the name Bale.”

She adored the way his finger stroked her chin. His eyes remained on the road
, and it was a small movement that just felt . . . shit, it felt sweet. She grabbed his finger with her lips and drew it into her mouth. His body tensed and his eyes roamed over to her face. “Mmm, so delicious I could . . .”

The car swerved onto the shoulder and Balen pulled his hand away to get control. After the initial scare, Danielle laughed, her hand playfully hitting his chest. “Was I distracting you?”

“You do that again and we are stopping this car. And I have no care whether anyone sees what I will do to you on the side of the road.”

Danielle smiled. “Is that a promise?”

He made a low growl in his chest and then laughed. Danielle tilted her head, listening to the sound. She’d heard it once before, and each time it was so real and true, like it came from his soul. She could listen to him laugh day in and day out without ever tiring of the comforting sound.

“What?” Balen asked.

“Aren’t you reading my thoughts?”

“No. It is disrespectful to read others thoughts unless it is imperative. We communicate through our minds, but try to refrain from taking on
others’ thoughts for privacy reasons. You can learn to block others, but it takes skill and constant vigilance. To the ancients, it is natural.”

“Are you an ancient?” She leaned her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. His heart pumped beneath her palm
, and she found it remarkable that her own heart skipped and then took the same beat as his. Weird.