The Three Fates of Ryan Love (21 page)

“The poor besotted men they'd chosen didn't know what hit them until the Sisters were gone and the humans were left ruined. What mere woman could compare to a
goddess
, after all? Babies were born. The girls were kept in the Beyond. The boys rejected and put to death.”

“Because the boys were ungifted?” Sabelle asked, her voice cracking with the horror of it.

Joel shrugged. “It was all picture-perfect for the Sisters until they got caught. Fornicating with the chosen ones is generally frowned upon in the Beyond,” he said with a grim smile. “Murdering little half-human baby boys . . . well, that was a crime that had to be punished. The Sisters were forbidden to ever return.”

“That's it?” Ryan said with disgust. “That was their punishment?”

“Fucked-up, isn't it?” Joel answered.

“What about the girl babies they let live?” Ryan asked. “What happened to them after the sisters were caught?”

“No one really knew what to do with them. Sending them back to the human world might tip off the Big Guy, clue him in to what his depraved creations had been up to in the Beyond. The decision was made to let the Sisters keep their spawn and the whole incident was considered closed. No one cared what happened to the babies after that.”

He paused and the tight silence that rushed in brought Sabelle's eyes up.

“No one even noticed when the Sisters made them slaves,” he finished softly.

It was so obviously the point to his story, yet Sabelle hadn't seen it coming. The blood drained from her face as the wine soured in her belly. “Their children? Slaves?” she repeated, because she needed to say the word, to apply it. “Are you . . . You're saying . . .”

“Eleven slaves apiece, so they'd have equal power,” Joel continued.

Sabelle stood, her heart suddenly a hammer in her chest, her mouth so dry she could hardly speak.

“Their
children
?” she said again, still not believing it. “You're lying.”

“Wish I was,” Joel said solemnly.

Waves of disoriented memories crashed over her. She couldn't recall a childhood . . . a mother. She opened her mind, searching for one single recollection of being touched by love . . . being held by a parent. There was nothing.

“You're wrong,” she said, her voice so hard it rang. “I wasn't born. I was created, just as the Sisters were. I'm not human—half-human. I'm not . . .”

“Eleven apiece,” Joel continued, unwavering, uncaring that things inside Sabelle were crumbling. “Thirty-three seers searching the world for events that the Sisters could twist and turn and make into something they shouldn't be. Balanced chaos. Until the children began to die. One by one, until all that was left was you, Sabelle. The last child. The last seer.”

Sabelle felt as if her head had been stuffed full of cotton and now it muffled what she heard, making it incomprehensible. Ryan was watching her, but she couldn't fathom her own thoughts, let alone whatever mystery gleamed in his eyes. “That's not true,” she said. “You're wrong. Aisa's not my . . .”

“Mother?”

Sabelle shook her head. “No. She's not. We aren't . . . Seers were created, like the stars, like the . . .”

The pity in Elijah's eyes stopped her denials. She saw truth within his sympathy. Horrified, she lowered her gaze, trying to keep the stinging tears from coming.

“When was the last time you saw one of the others?” Joel asked.

“I only see Nadia. She's also a slave but not a seer. She's my friend.”

Joel and Elijah were silent for a moment, and Sabelle felt more of that distressing compassion in the quiet. Ryan's head was bent and his focus on the circles he drew in the condensation ring his beer bottle made, but he listened closely. She could feel his attention.

At last Joel spoke again and his voice sounded almost kind. That frightened her as much as anything he'd said so far.

“Whoever Nadia is, she's not your friend, Sabelle. There's no such thing in the Beyond.”

The tears she'd managed to hold back burned her eyes, but she felt stripped to the bone and shedding them now would destroy what was left of her. Fortunately, Joel didn't make her respond. He continued his calm narrative, firing darts at her soul with each unbearable word.

“We think it must have been a disease that wiped out everyone. Something you and Aisa were immune to, but not the other seers . . . not even Aisa's sisters, Moira and Nona, survived it.”

“That's impossible.”

“Is it? Have you ever seen the Sisters together?”

She hated admitting that she hadn't. “Not in a very long time, but that's not unusual. I'm a slave. I see other slaves. I mean, I used to before my power became so strong that they had to isolate me to keep it from corrupting the visions of the others. Only Nadia could be around me after that.”

The explanation had made perfect sense when Nadia explained it to her. Now humiliation seared the edges of her composure and nudged her into the hot flame of despair. The more Joel and Elijah said, the less she believed her own view of her world. She wasn't just a slave. She was a fool.

“How did you escape, Sabelle?” Elijah asked again.

“Nadia helped me. She summoned the reaper who carried me from the Beyond.”

“How?” Joel asked.

“I don't know. There wasn't time to ask.”

The three men exchanged glances and Sabelle felt that, once again, they'd all heard something she'd missed.

“You said it yourself,” Ryan murmured reluctantly. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Aisa is the master of illusion.”

Like bits of glass falling to a marble floor, she heard the shivering sound of understanding. She stared into the distance, trying to see through the tangle of her thoughts to what these men had discerned already. “You think Nadia is Aisa's creation? An illusion?”

Joel shrugged. Elijah folded his hands together and nodded. Sabelle moved away, giving them her back. She wrapped her arms around herself, her pain so deep it had no beginning, no end.

“That doesn't explain who
you
are,” Ryan said, and Sabelle couldn't help but look over her shoulder, desperate to understand what he thought of all this. His face was turned, though, as he spoke to Joel. Sabelle remembered that's how all this had begun. She'd asked that question and Joel had led them through a labyrinth of twisted nightmares instead of answering.

Joel looked up with eyes that seemed a thousand years old. “You can't guess? I'm one of the boys—one of the ungifted sons Aisa left for dead. Imagine her displeasure when she realized I'd survived. She's been trying to kill me ever since. But seers—we get these feelings when bad things are coming. Turns out we're not so easy to kill.”

S
abelle could see herself standing in the kitchen as if she were no longer part of her body. She could feel Ryan's silent perusal as he waited for her reactions. Yet she was in some other place where Joel's words echoed on.

He'd said so much. Lies. Truths. She had no way of untangling the knotted mess. Was Aisa her mother? Did she share blood with the most terrifying being she could imagine?

Or was Joel a consummate liar with an agenda of his own? How did he know any of this? Could he truly be—

Her thoughts stuttered as a realization she'd been too blinded by shock to see suddenly snapped into focus.

“If you're . . .” she began, disbelief thick in her voice. “If Aisa is your . . .”

Joel's eyes were clouded as he met her stare. “That makes us blood,” he finished. “I'm your little brother, Sabelle.”

A hundred conflicting emotions rained down, cold sleet that made her shake from the inside out. Brother. Family. Human—half of him. Half of her. What did that mean? She wanted it to be true with a desperation she could barely contain. Yet some piece of her had already stamped it false and moved on.

“How can you be her little brother?” Ryan asked carefully. “You've got at least twenty years on her.”

“The mileage takes its toll down here,” Joel replied. “My guess is that she'll start to age if she stays.”

If she stays.
The idea floated like fairy lights in a world made of cotton candy and dreams.

“You still look dubious, Ryan,” Elijah said. “You don't believe him?”

“Sabelle says she wasn't born, Joel says they share a mother. I don't know that I believe either one of them.”

Sabelle swallowed hard.

“How'd you see us coming? Sabelle said no one can see their own future.”

Joel grimaced. “Well, what do you know. You got more than rocks in your head.”

Ryan stared back, nonplussed. Waiting for his answer.

“Wasn't me who saw it,” Joel said grudgingly. “It was him. Elijah's wired a little different than a seer. He doesn't have the burden of being half-monster. He's all human, right down to the dreams. Only thing is, they tend to come true.”

Together, Sabelle and Ryan looked at Elijah for confirmation. Elijah said, “I dreamed of Joel my whole life. I knew exactly who and what he was before I ever met him.”

“He was waiting for me. Just like we were waiting for you.”

Sabelle's chest tightened. She fought to keep her voice steady and asked, “What about you, Joel? Did you know he would be waiting? Could
you
see
him
?”

“Are you asking because you can't see anything anymore?” Elijah asked in that kind and coaxing voice she was afraid to trust.

Warily, she nodded. “Since coming here, my mind's eye is blind.”

“You don't know how to open it yet,” Elijah said. “You probably don't even know how to have a proper dream.”

She looked at Joel. “Is that how you see? In dreams?”

“I could if I wanted to, which I don't. I trust Elijah to tell me what I need to know. I live
now.
That's all I care to see.” He shrugged. “We all have powers. Every last person on earth. Doesn't mean we all have to use them.”

With an irritated look at Joel, Elijah leaned forward. “Sabelle, what Joel is saying is that you don't have to be from the Beyond to be gifted. Your view of the world may have changed when you became part of it, but that piece of you that helped you guide, that made you what you are . . . it's still there. You just have to figure out how to tap into it.”

Sabelle looked at Ryan, wishing he'd say something, but he'd grown so distant, she wasn't even certain he was still listening.

“Listen,” Elijah said. “We've given you a lot of information. You're safe here—as safe as you'll be anywhere, I guess. Sedona is a special place and this property is sacred. Mystics have been settling on this soil for centuries and for a reason. It's not just beautiful, it's filled with pockets of such intense energy they make your skin crawl. Vortexes, they call them. It creates a blanket that keeps us hidden. Aisa may know she's close, but now that you're here, it'll take her some time to find you.”

“What makes you so sure?” Ryan demanded.

“No one's tried to kill me lately, that's what,” Joel muttered.

“And when it's time to come out of hiding?” Ryan asked.

“We figure out a way to cheat fate,” Joel answered. “We bring Aisa down.”

Ryan laughed under his breath. “As easy as that, huh? What about her?” He pointed at Sabelle.

“What about her?” Joel countered, as if she weren't in the room.

“The owned becomes the owner. Does that mean you're going to support her when she becomes the owner?”

“Are you?” Joel shot back.

The three men stared at one another, no one answering, and Sabelle felt the burn of rejection stain her face. She wanted to say something cutting. If Aisa was her mother, she should be able to think of a retort that would put them all in their place.

But all she managed was to draw herself up and huddle in her broken pride. Not a single tear spilled. Not a whimper escaped. They'd wounded her today, these three men she'd thought were her allies, but she didn't let it show.

“Why don't we cross that bridge when we reach it,” Elijah said softly.

Of all of them, she suspected he was the one who knew how close to the edge Sabelle stood.

“It's too late to save the world tonight.”

T
he cabin should have seemed bigger, less two occupants. Instead it shrank down to the small space she and Ryan shared. Sabelle watched him warily, unsure what came next. Wanting to bring back the warmth she craved. Everything had changed, though, and she saw the truth like a light through a tunnel.

Ryan thought she'd lied to him, tricked him,
fornicated
with him like her mother to steal his seed and begin stocking her own stable of seers. She had no credibility, no way to convince him otherwise.

He turned away from her.

“I'm going to grab our bags from the car,” he said, which was so much better than
I'm going to leave you here
.

Still, Sabelle moved to the window and watched him, unconvinced that he'd return until the front door opened, letting in a gust of cold air, a frisky dog, and Ryan. He carried their bags to the bedroom and returned as silent and pensive as he'd been most of the night.

In the kitchen, he poured himself another drink but left it on the counter as he stood staring out the window over the sink.

After a moment, he turned. “Why don't you try to get some sleep?” he said over his shoulder, his voice low. “I need to think.”

She knew she should do as he asked. Go to sleep, do some thinking of her own. But she couldn't bear the thought of putting a closed door between them. It was time to admit that more than her relationship with Ryan had changed.
She
had changed. She'd come with a clear goal. She'd felt a sense of purpose.

She'd wanted to save Ryan . . . and then she'd wanted to save humanity. She'd thought humans needed her help, poor misguided creatures. How arrogant she'd been. The only help they needed was to get way from Aisa. Sabelle would do everything in her power to make that happen. Afterward, though . . .

It was her duty to return, to carry on the important task of guiding fate for the beings God loved most, but each moment she spent with his beloved creations, with Ryan Love, she found her will to leave diminished. Joel's revelation that she might
belong
here, that she was half-human, glimmered like diamonds in a wall of slate.

“I don't want to go to bed,” she said, lifting her chin, trying to look bold. “Not alone.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder, his eyes a stormy sea. Tension bunched his thick shoulders and broad back. She waited, willing him to turn around.

“I'm too tired to talk anymore, Sabelle. Even if I wasn't, I don't know what I'd say to you.”

“I don't want to talk.”

A deep breath stuttered out—laughter, disbelief. Rage. She heard it all in the tight burst of air.

“I'm not Aisa. Maybe what they said is true. Maybe she's my mother. Maybe they're both full of shit.”

Another glance over his shoulder. This one less frigid cold, more stormy sky.

“It doesn't matter if it's true or not,” she went on. “I'm not my mother and you're not your father.”

At last he turned and leaned a hip against the counter. He watched her, his expression inscrutable.

“Your dad turned into someone you didn't like much when your mother died. You felt betrayed.”

“And you're a poor little goddess who wants to play human before she goes home.”

The arrow flew true. She felt it deep in her heart. Defensive and hurt, she lifted her chin.

Ryan went on: “I don't know what you want me to say. You've had me off balance since the first time I laid eyes on you. It hasn't even been a week, Sabelle.”

“But you've known me for years.”

“
You've
known
me.
Not the other way around.”

“You sensed me. You said you felt me there.” He didn't deny it, but his doubt shouted at her. She swallowed hard. “Before I came here, I didn't know what it meant to feel. To ache and want and
need.
I didn't understand how it could consume me. I care more about what you're going to say next than I do about Aisa hunting me down and forcing me back. You're worried that I've somehow
enslaved
you with all my otherworldly powers. Well, I'm worried about the same thing, Ryan.”

He hung his head for a moment and shook it. “Stop. Just
stop.
”

“I can't do that. I might not have another chance.”

“To what?”

“To be with you,” she said softly.

Ryan took a deep breath. “Everything's coming at me like bullets, Sabelle. I don't know which ones can kill me and which ones are just going to hurt a lot.” A small, bitter laugh followed. “I need to get out of the line of fire.”

“No you don't. You're just looking for ways to put distance between us.”

He shrugged. “It's the smart thing to do.”

“When was the first time you thought I'd be more trouble than I was worth? Five minutes after meeting me?”

“You mean while my livelihood was being blown to hell and I was running for my life?”

“You call
me
pushy, but that's all
you
do. You push and you push until no one's left around you.”

“I'm pushing you somewhere you don't want to go?”

“Yes. Away.”

“How can you say that? I woke up today holding you so fucking tight, it was like I was afraid I'd lose you while I slept. What's it going to be like tomorrow? Or the next day? Or the one when you leave?”

He cursed, shook his head again, and looked away. “You've been lying to me since we met. That should be enough for me, but I'm still here and I can't figure out why. My head is saying get the fuck out, but the rest of me . . . I can't seem to make it to the door.”

“Quit looking for reasons to say no to me, Ryan.”

“Then tell me how this conversation is going to play tomorrow. What's it going to be when you don't need my help anymore?”

And in that statement lurked all the worries that made Ryan Love the man he was. The kind of man who stood in the eye of a storm and dared it to do its worse. He was a boy watching his mother die and his father mourn for the rest of his days. He was a teenager watching his brother and sister die again and again, only to mystify the world by opening their eyes after it should've been over. A grown man toiling to hold on to something he loved and hated with equal passion. Holding on for all he was worth.

Losing it all anyway.

Sabelle moved closer, defying the invisible boundaries meant to keep her afar. “You're not the only one who's all mixed up inside, Ryan. Cards on the table, like you said. This. Here—now. This was my one chance to try everything I'd longed for. With you. And you're right. I thought I could just pop in, sample the human world, then leave with my souvenirs and my heart intact.” She laughed. “Things just didn't work out that way, though, did they?”

He watched her intently, so wary it broke her heart.

“I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. I can't tell you where either of us will be. I can only say what I hope. I want to be here, Ryan, figuring this all out. Who we are. What we are to each other. If Joel is my brother, then I'm half-human. I want to know that part of me. I want
you
to know that part of me. I want to be with you. I don't need to see the future to know that.”

Her words fell like snow. Soft as breath, melting as they touched. She saw Ryan react to each tiny flake. The darkening of the green in his eyes, the softening of his lips.

“I came because I couldn't let you die. I swear it. Nothing else was as important as that. But I want to stay because leaving you would be worse than dying.”

His shoulders had been bunched tight. Now his arms dropped to his sides. He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling for a long moment while Sabelle waited, breathless, for him to come to terms with the truth or throw it all away.

The night chill still clung to his skin, as cold and fresh as an icy wave. But beneath it was flesh, blood, muscle, and bone. Warmth. All the things that made this big man the stunning creation he was. Sabelle took deliberate steps forward, wanting him to know she meant them.

She could touch him now. Easily.

The hand that reached up shook, but her fingers brushed his hair back from his brow, smoothed it against his temple. His eyes tracked the movement, his thoughts as hidden as the shadows.

“Will you let me in?” she asked, her voice wavering. “Take a leap of faith, with me? I don't want to be outside anymore.”

His head moved, a half shake of denial, but he didn't say no, so she took another step. Measured. Needy. Chin up, eyes steady.

He looked away, his color high, his chin low.

“I don't know if I can,” he said at last.

“I'm no expert,” she returned. “But I think you just say yes. Simple as that.”

He exhaled through his nose in a breath of laughter. “Nothing's simple where you're concerned.”

She raised her brows. “Ditto.”

His eyes held a golden glow that seduced her as she came up on tiptoes and took his face between her palms.

In the beginning, Sabelle had come in desperation, thinking in terms of
now
and
maybe
and
if
. But Ryan had forged a bond stronger than those of fate when he'd touched her, and she no longer knew what she was or where she fit. Except here, next to him.

A pulse beat between them, low and steady. Ryan's eyes had the hot glitter of desire, but he didn't move. Sabelle tried not to either, but her body canted forward. She pulled his head down and his hands curved around her hips, his grip knowing, masculine, filled with promise he still refused to make.

She was having trouble breathing. Thinking. She wanted to pull his shirt up so she could press her hands to the flat muscled abdomen, open her mouth over the ridges there and feel his warm skin against her lips, her tongue. But she wanted his mouth first, the taste of what he felt. She needed to know if his emotions were as strong as hers.

She pressed her mouth to his, capturing his bottom lip and sucking softly, as he'd taught her to do. She nipped it with her teeth, licked it, and moved to the upper. He held her against him, his hips hard at her belly, muscles flexing as he opened his mouth to hers. His tongue tasted of warm whiskey that fired her senses and made her drunk with the power of her need.

He might not give her the words, but his kiss was demanding, owning. His big hands slipped down to her bottom, cupping, squeezing, holding her still while he stole her soul. She sacrificed it to him willingly, knowing he'd care for it—probably better than she could.

The hands moved again, up over the soft denim until he reached the bare skin above the waist. She sucked in a breath and let it out in a rush as they slipped under her sweater and to her new bra. He made a sound as he touched the silk. In the next instant, he peeled her sweater over her head. His breath stopped as he stared at her and she looked down, seeing the soft light against the swell of her breasts held by the bits of flowered satin. His big hands covered them, hot and possessive. “God, I love that store,” he muttered hoarsely.

He pulled the cups down beneath her breasts and palmed her sensitive flesh, thumbs over her nipples, teasing them into hard points that ached for more.

A sense of power settled over her, diluted by the vulnerability of her position. Exposed, aching to have something only he could give. She shoved the hem of his shirt up and he obliged by tugging it over his head and throwing it on the floor with hers. Her fingers moved over the alluring ridges of muscle, watching them contract at her touch, feeling the answering clench inside of her. His chest was broad, solid as oak, and smooth in the golden light.

He leaned back and stared into her eyes and she rocked gracelessly against him, her body arching in instinct. Her heart acting out of survival. He cupped her face and held her while he kissed her, fitting his lips to hers, sucking them softly, the tip of his tongue teasing. Finally he parted her lips with his tongue and deepened the kiss until Sabelle fell into a sexual haze she never wanted to leave.

She'd reached a point of no return. Emotionally. Physically. A place of stark decision that culminated in this act. It would mean more this time than it had the times before when they'd come together. She knew him now. As a man, not an image. She knew that he feared wanting to hold on as much as she feared being let go.

She traced the mesmerizing trail down his belly and tugged open the top button of his jeans. The others followed in quick succession. Beneath, he wore dark blue briefs that swelled with the length of him. She pushed the elastic down and curled her fingers around him and stroked. Ryan's chest lifted with a deep breath that hissed as he sucked it in and his belly tightened. She did it again. He cursed and kissed her again.

Pulling her hands away, he lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bedroom and lowered her onto the bed, settling his weight over her body. His mouth on hers was possessive and slow, demanding and hot, and her lips clung, yielding to the pleasure.