Terra's Victory (Destiny's Trinities Book 7) (2 page)

She could feel her own back straightening and her shoulders drawing back.

Zack’s hand soothed its way up her spine.

Baralathor kept his gaze on Lindal. “It is my wish to join your mother there. My time here is at an end.”

Lindal shook his head. “No.”

No, what
? Beth didn’t say it aloud. The two elves sitting opposite her and Lindal and Zack had grown stiff with tension. She didn’t understand why, only her heart was racing, anyway.

Why did it feel as though Lindal was being threatened?

“This war has spilled over, beyond the control of the trinities you insisted would save us,” Amrod said. “It is threatening our world, now, too. The portal must be closed.”

“No,” Lindal repeated, more loudly this time.

“You can close the portal?” Zack asked, his tone sharp.

Baralathor ignored him. So did Amrod.

“I have indulged your proclivities for long enough,” Baralathor told Lindal. “It is time for you to return to your world, both you and Séreméla. You must take up your appointed role as leader. Your wife, your queen, awaits you.”

Lindal let out a gusty sigh, his head dropping. This time, he didn’t refuse.

* * * * *

“
You’re married
?” Zack shouted, almost before Beth could shut the door of the suite behind them.

Lindal dropped into the armchair and propped his head on his hand. “If I was married to anyone, it would be you two. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Then what was all that bullshit about a queen waiting for you?”

“Exactly that,” Lindal said tiredly. “A suitable princess was picked out for me the year I was born.” His mouth turned down. “Calenes.”

“You even
know
her?” Zack cried.

Beth caught Zack’s arm. “Stop it,” she said softly. “Stop beating him up. He didn’t say he was going.”

Yet fear was squeezing her middle, too.

“Of course I’m not going!” Lindal cried. “Damn it, you really think I would even
consider
it?” His indignation pushed him back onto his feet.

Beth pulled in a breath that shuddered. She was more than afraid now. It had to be said, though. “Maybe you
should
consider it.”

Both of them looked at her, horror and hurt in their faces.

Beth swallowed. “Someone must lead the elves. Your father is right about that, Lindal. Your world needs a leader at this time. You’d be a strong king, strong enough to help them defend themselves.”

“They have strong leaders,” Lindal said. His voice was hoarse. “Anion, Sirinar …any of the senior generals would do in a pinch.” He added bitterly, “and it’s not my world.”

“They can’t have someone who’ll just do in a pinch,” Beth replied, striving to keep her voice even. “It won’t be enough.”

“Amrod, then. His father was king before mine.” Lindal shook his head. “I’m not going to start arguing specifics, because then you’ll counter every point and I have no intention of letting you talk me into this. I’m not going back. That’s final.”

Zack clenched his fists, studying Lindal. “Watch your tone, Lindal. That’s Beth you’re speaking to, not one of your minions.”

Lindal spun to look at him, shock widening his eyes. “You, too?” he breathed, hurt oozing from every stiff line of his body.

“You’re so closed-minded you won’t even discuss it,” Zack said in disgust. “What’s wrong with you? Scared it would be too much of a challenge, elf-boy?”

Beth held back a hurt moan. She knew what Zack was doing. If he could make Lindal angry enough, it would open up his mind and make him consider returning to his father just to spite Zack. Only it was hard to watch him do it.

Lindal was trembling. “You don’t understand. If I go back, then it will be for the last time. They want to close down the portal.
No one
will get through.”

“I understand that you’re being an arrogant prick, thinking about yourself,” Zack added. “Typical fucking elvish prince,” he muttered.

Lindal flinched. His face tightened and his eyes narrowed. “Since when has a vampire
ever
considered the greater good?” he demanded, his tone harsh. “You feed upon humans, you pass among them, taking their wealth while pretending to be one of them, when you’re nothing but a
coda
, a lingering remnant without a soul.”

Beth held up her hand. She wasn’t surprised to see it was shaking. This had suddenly come off the rails. “Enough,” she said. “That’s enough, both of you.”

“More than enough,” Zack said. His chest was heaving. “I’m done here.” He turned and strode to the door and slammed his hand down on the lever to open it. With his back turned to Lindal, he raised the other to wipe quickly at his cheeks, stepped through and slammed the door behind him.

Lindal lowered himself down into the armchair and buried his face in his hands.

Ferr appeared in front of Beth, flittering and chittering urgently. Beth could sense from her that she was needed back at the command post.

“Coming,” she said woodenly.

Tiredness dragged at her, as she left Lindal in the chair and walked back to the command post alone.

Diego paused on his circuit around the little living room to glare out through the French windows at the three figures on the tiny balcony. Amrod, he knew. The other one had Sera’s eyes, sort of. They were the same blue. Sera had called him “Father.”

Both elvish men were talking solemnly, while Sera stood listening to them, her shoulders stiff. Whatever they were telling her, she didn’t like it.

“I should go out there and interrupt,” Diego said.

Blake put the book he had been pretending to read back on the table in front of him. “You can’t barge in on a king.”

“I don’t care if he’s the emperor of ice cream! He’s upsetting her.”

“No, Diego,” Blake said firmly.

Frustrated, Diego started pacing again. “What is of such shattering importance that he would come here, anyway?”

Blake got out his gun and started to break it down with quick, unconscious movements. He did it when he was stressed. “I imagine her father is telling her it is time for her to go back with him and do whatever a king’s daughter is supposed to do.”

“Go
back
?” Diego threw out his hand. “They tortured her!”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“They wouldn’t let her use her healing abilities. Ever. It’s the same thing as Chinese foot binding. She was stunted, barely alive. Then, when she saved someone’s life, they excommunicated her. And now they want her to go back?”

Blake looked through the barrel at Diego, then put it down. “I said I
thought
that was what they were telling her. I can’t see any other reason why the King would travel here and risk exposure or worse.”

Diego saw movement from the corner of his eye and turned to look at the balcony once more. Sera’s father—Diego had a hard time calling him a king in his own mind—hugged her. It was an emotionless, stiff movement that seemed more like a ritual than a warm expression of fatherly love.

The two men pulled their hoods up and disappeared.

Sera lingered to study the spot where they had been standing, then stepped over the sill and came inside.

Blake put down the gun and held his arm out to her.

Sera hurried over and sat on his lap. Blake’s hug
was
warm and loving, the complete opposite of the stiff expression her father had managed.

Diego pulled out the chair next to them and picked up her hand. “Was Blake right? Do they want you to go back?”

Sera lifted her head up from Blake’s shoulder. Her big eyes were always crystalline and mesmerizing in their limpid quality. Now they had tears trembling on the brink.

Diego’s gut twisted.

“They want to close down the portal, shut off the gate between here and there,” she whispered. “And my mother…she’s….” Her tears spilled.

“Dead?” Diego breathed.

Sera’s face worked. “She may as well be dead,” she said, her voice strained.

Diego made himself ask the question, even though he feared the answer. “Are you? Going back?”

Sera hesitated, then shook her head.

The relief that speared him was almost as painful as the fear had been.

“But…Lindal….” she whispered.

Diego scowled. “What about him?”

“My father wants him to take the throne. If he doesn’t, there is no one else.”

“If he does, that will weaken the primary trinity,” Blake said quietly.

“If he doesn’t, the elves could fall to the Grimoré,” Diego said softly. He shook his head. “Well, damn. I actually feel sorry for the son of morning.”

Sera’s smile was weak. It was there, though. “Can I be there when you tell him that?” she asked.

Diego pulled on her hand, bringing her over to his knee. He slid his hand under her skirt, feeling hot, soft flesh and taut muscles beneath. His own body tightened. “You know I can never deny you any pleasure,” he whispered and licked the base of her neck.

Sera shuddered. Then she caught his chin. “No, wait.”

“Yes, do wait for me,” Blake complained.

“No, I mean
wait
. I was thinking.”

“That’s not good. The merest touch of my hands should wipe any thought from your mind, except the desire to meet my every wish,” Diego said.

Blake rolled his eyes and Sera smiled. She rested her hand against his chest. “I’m serious.”

“You’re
too
serious,” Diego assured her. “I’ve seen undertakers with more cheerful expressions than the one you were wearing when you stepped inside.”

“Not anymore, thanks to you,” she said and kissed him. It was a brief kiss, but held promise. Sera had moved beyond the shock of her father’s visit.

Satisfied, Diego picked up her hand from his chest and gave it to Blake to hold. “You were thinking,” he prompted her.

She nodded. “I have never been more grateful for the bonding that holds us together than I was just then, when my father demanded I return. It gave me the perfect excuse to say no. Only, it got me thinking. What happens when this war with the Grimoré is over?”

Something small and cold shifted in Diego’s chest. “What do you mean, what happens? We all get drunk for a week, spend a month in bed and sleep for a year.” That he couldn’t do two of those things was a mere technicality in his mind. He’d make up for it with the one thing he
could
do.

Sera touched his cheek with her palm and he could feel the warmth of her touch. It wasn’t just body temperature. She was an Elven princess and they did that glowing thing. Too, there were her healing skills, for which touch was the primary conduit. All of it meant that contact with Sera was far, far different than with anyone else, including Blake. Her hands against him always made Diego feel a wash of peace. It also made his heart flutter, although usually in a good way.

This time, he didn’t like the uneasy sensation it produced. He kept still, revealing none of his wariness.

“I mean,” Sera said patiently, “what happens with the bonding? Does it end when the Grimoré do? Do we suddenly have nothing holding us together?”

Blake’s fingers must have clamped down on hers, for Sera winced and looked at him.

“Of course it doesn’t end,” Blake said flatly.

“But—”

“No.” He shook his head. “Seaveth keeps speaking of the long range thinking the…whatever she called it, Gaia—”

“Terra,” Sera added.

“Whatever it is, it’s benign, almost kindly in the way it has been shoving us around,” Blake said. “Of course it won’t dissolve the bond!”

Diego gripped their hands, feeling the good heat from both of them. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he said, as firmly as he could. “I love you. That isn’t going to change.”

Blake drew in a breath that shuddered and let it out. “Do you know how many homicides are committed by the spouse?”

Sera’s eyes widened.

“I don’t care,” Diego said shortly. “That has nothing to do with us. We’re
hunters
, not humans with small lives to obsess about.”

Blake nodded. “Except all that ends when the Grimoré do. I go back to being just a cop.”

Diego smiled. “Blake, I love you, but you’re being an idiot if you think you will ever go back to being just a cop. You’ve stepped into the supernatural world. You don’t get to leave it once you do.”

Blake crossed his arms. “And I love you. Both of you. So much, it scares the crap out of me sometimes, when I let myself think about it too long. The bonding is powerful. We know that. The three of us, working together, can hold back hundreds of vampeen and that’s purely the bonding at work. Without it, a dozen vampeen would be a challenge—”

“Not much of one,” Diego interjected grumpily.

Sera rolled her eyes.

Blake shook his head. “What happens when the Grimoré have gone? What happens if the bonding goes, too? Am I suddenly going to wake up one morning, look at the two of you and wonder what the fuck I’m doing here?”

Silence.

Diego could hear his own heart, echoing in his head.

“It couldn’t…it wouldn’t just…abandon us. Would it?” Sera said, her voice very soft.

Diego lifted her and put her on Blake’s knees. “It
still
doesn’t matter,” he told them. “I don’t love you because some stupid mystical bullshit says I have to.”

“It’s the
only
reason you stopped being angry long enough to fall in love at all,” Blake pointed out.

“Yes, maybe, at first. It’s different now.”

“Is it?” Blake asked, ever the cool, calculating detective. “Then why are you back to pacing like a caged animal?”

Diego halted. He
was
pacing, the tight little circuit around the rug-sized area between the sofa and the windows Sera had just come through.

“Fuck,” he said, dismayed.

Zack tried to tell himself that the reason for his melancholy mood was because it was Christmas Eve. The time of year would always be associated in his mind with the smell of freshly stripped fir tree fronds strung around a simple room, along the mantel shelf and over door lintels. The fronds would be warmed by hundreds of candles and sending out their piney scent, mixed with the aroma of apples and oranges, the ultimate Christmastime treat.