Incendiary (The Premonition Series (Volume 4)) Page 5

  “Epic, do me a huge favor and kill him for me. I can’t be with Finn as long as Brennus lives so he has to be ended,” she replies, showing a cold, calculating ulterior motive for coming here. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other for a while, Eaves,” Molly says, backing toward the doors.

  “Molly, wait!” I say, my heart twisting in my chest as I pull against Reed’s grasp on my arm. “Remember me and I’ll remember you—remember...crawling out of your bathroom window so we could look at the stars and talk all night. No matter how old we get, we’ll be under those same stars.”

  “I won’t forget,” she says softly. “Maybe you’ll think of me now, when it rains, too. May the road rise up to greet you, Eaves.”

  “May the wind be always at your back, Mols,” I choke as tears fall from my eyes. She backs away from us to the door, watching Zephyr suspiciously as he continues to train his weapon on her. The instant she hits the cover of darkness, she turns and runs from the house.

  “She’s onto the plan,” Russell says softly, not moving from the doorway of the ballroom. “We should probably go and take care of her.”

  “Nobody touches her,” I state numbly. “She wants Brennus dead. She won’t tell them anything.”

  “She might tell her boy to keep him from comin’ here, knowin’ that’s what we want them to do. If Finn doesn’t come, chances are he’ll keep his brother from comin’, too,” he replies, wanting me to see that the plan has a loose end now. “They’ll just send their men.”

  “I don’t care,” I reply, refusing to see it any other way but that she stays unharmed. “Anyway, good luck finding her now. She’s probably twenty leagues under the sea as we speak,” I say, hoping I’m not bluffing. “The beauty of our plan is that it only, really, needs one person to be here when the fellas arrive and that has to be me, since I’m the one they’re the most focused on. You guys should leave now. I can execute the plan and escape through my portal when it’s done.” I touch the moon-shaped locket on my neck, making sure it’s still with me.

  Every face in the room frowns at me. “Were you listening to Molly?” Reed asks, still holding my arms that are now beginning to shake as the numbness in me is wearing off. “She said you couldn’t martyr any of us out of this. They want revenge. They will hunt us all until we kill them.”

  “I heard that…so I will kill them all,” I reply, looking into his eyes. “They don’t get to hurt my family.”

  “She’s back!” Zephyr grins, looking at me proudly. “Welcome home, Evie.”

  “Sweetie!” Buns cheers as she and Brownie both run to me and hug me, forcing Reed to let me go. “We thought we lost a part of you to them, but it’s back!”

  “I learn from my mistakes, Buns,” I say, allowing them to hug me as I look over their heads at Reed. Wondering briefly if he can see the pain inside of me, I continue, “You’re never going to be safe while they survive…so they have to be ended.”

  My heart contracts in pain like I’ve just lost something, something that I love. There are fragmented pieces inside of me that no longer fit where they once did. I feel betrayed by them—by Brennus. He told me that he loved me, but his version of love is not my version of it.

  “No one expects you to do it, Evie,” Reed says. “I’ll be the one. It’s my mission.”

  “Naw, that stone-cold freak is mine,” Russell counters in a menacing voice, while walking into the room. As the light of the chandelier touches his face, I cringe, seeing his broken nose that is now beginning to heal.

  Approaching Russell, Zephyr says, “Hold still.” He places his thumbs on either side of Russell’s nose and straightens it for him with a loud crack.

  “Thanks,” Russell says, not even flinching.

  “I’m her aspire,” Reed says in a quiet tone, facing Russell.

  “Well, I’m her soul mate,” Russell replies. “Brennus is gonna suffer for tryin’ to make my girl grovel.”

  “And making him grovel in return is my right. Didn’t we just establish that she’s not your girl?” Reed asks, his brows drawing together.

  “She’ll always be my girl. She may be your angel…but she’ll always be my girl,” Russell replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “She’s made her choice. It’s time for you to begin to accept it,” Reed counters in a cool tone, his fingers touching my arm as he trails them gently down to hold my hand.

  “Someone always tries to come between us, but they don’t last long…we always end up together, sooner or later,” Russell replies with a certainty that makes me frown.

  Seeing Reed’s brows begin to knit together again, my eyes shoot to Russell. “Can I talk to you, Russ?” I ask, not waiting for him to answer. I let go of Reed’s hand and walk to Russell, trying to pull him with me toward the door.

  “Sure,” Russell says, “we can talk at my villa.”

  “We should remain in the big house for now,” Zephyr says, stopping us. “You can collect your gear in the morning and move it to a room here. I believe it is time to make this headquarters. No one wanders around alone.”

  “Alright, Red, do you wanna be my buddy so that I can go to the kitchen and get some food? I’m starvin’,” Russell asks, tucking my arm in his, like nothing out of the ordinary has happened. I frown at him, showing him my irritation with his behavior.

  “Fine,” I say to Russell, then I frown at Reed “Don’t think you’re off the hook, Reed. We’ll talk later.”

  He looks surprised by the edge in my voice, until he sees that I'm going with Russell. “Evie,” he says as he begins to look deadly.

  “We’ll talk later,” I reply, trying to ignore how sexy Reed looks when he narrows his eyes at me like that.

  “Yes, we will,” he agrees with an equal amount of edginess in his tone.

  I follow Russell to the kitchen. We pass through the arching doorway that looks like something out of a designer home magazine. The enormous area is lit by firelight from a stone hearth, reflecting on the glass doors that lead to a stone terrace dining area outside. The doors are closed now against the pouring rain. Russell lets go of me, turning on the lights that hang directly over the stone countertop island. I go to the stainless steel refrigerator, scanning the contents to see what’s in it.

  “There’s left over fried chicken,” I say over my shoulder, “or that barbeque from last night?”

  “Yes,” Russell says, joining me at the door and pulling out both the chicken and pork. “Are there anymore of those muffins left?” he asks, loading his arms with food and hauling it with him to the barstools by the counter.

  “Let me check,” I say, opening the storage container where Hati, the head chef, keeps all the fresh baked breads. “Cranberry or mandarin?”

  “Uh huh,” he replies. I roll my eyes, taking several muffins out of the bin. I bring the muffins to him, placing them on a napkin.

  Pouring myself a glass of orange juice, I sit on the stool next to Russell, toying with the glass in my hand while he eats. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Red,” Russell says when I glance at his face. “I should be purdy again in a couple of hours.”

  “You were never pretty, so I wouldn’t count on it. That’s not what I’m worried about, Russell,” I sigh, not looking up from my glass. “I’m worried about why you and Reed are fighting.”

  “Just checkin’ the barometer,” he replies.

  My brow wrinkles as I ask, “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

  “Reed is the epitome of strength and agility. I needed to know where I measure up on the scale,” he says quietly, before taking a bite of chicken.

  “Why not fight Zee then?” I ask, knowing that there’s more to their fight than he wants me to know.

  “Reed is the best fighter, even Zee admits that and that’s sayin’ a lot,” Russell replies grudgingly.

  “And what did the barometer tell you?” I ask.

  “I’m gettin’ there,” he answers with a small smile.

  “Getting where, Russ
ell?” I press him.

  “Where I need to be,” he replies.

  “If you’re fighting because of me, then please stop,” I say quietly.

  “I can’t stop when it comes to you,” he replies, looking stubborn as his jaw sets. “It’s my eternal flaw.”

  “You can’t fight for me,” I say, looking back at my glass.

  “That’s not entirely true,” Russell replies before taking a bite of muffin. “Normally, you’d be right, with you bound to Reed, there’d be no way…but there are special circumstances here. Reed didn’t exactly follow all the rules when he bound his life to yours—”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, feeling tense.

  Russell finishes chewing before he says, “Number one, you were under duress when you bound yourself to him—”

  “I was not under duress. I knew exactly what I was doing,” I say, refuting his point. “I’d never have done it, if I hadn’t wanted to be with Reed for eternity.”

  “Red, you’re basically nineteen,” he says, like he’s not hearing me. “You have no idea what kind of time you promised him.”

  “And you do?” I ask, “You’re only twenty.”

  A slow, rueful smile spreads across his lips as he says, “I’m thousands of years old, ‘cuz unlike you, I remember every lifetime I’ve had on earth and most of those moments I spent with you…or dreamin’ ‘bout you—”

  “Then you should know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t have promised Reed anything if I didn’t intend to honor every single word I spoke to him,” I reply. Getting up from my chair, I take my glass to the sink, rinsing it out. I close my eyes with my back to Russell as I continue, “So…whatever you’re fighting for is pointless.”

  “Number two,” Russell says, sounding angry and hurt, “you never asked me for my permission to bind with him.”

  I pause in what I’m doing. “What?” I ask. Setting down my glass, I turn to face him, feeling my heart begin to beat faster.

  “You’re supposed to ask me if you want to bind to someone. I’m your soul mate. I’m supposed to be able to say no if I object,” he says, looking bitter.

  “How do you know all of this?” I ask, feeling my pulse racing.

  “Zee and Buns told me,” he says.

  “When?” I ask.

  “Just before I left and went home,” he replies. “They had to tell me ‘bout what you did ‘cuz you were gone with Brennus and the other vampires…Reed was a mess. How did you think I found out ‘bout it?” he asks accusingly. “You should’ve told me.”

  “I never wanted you to find out from anyone but me,” I reply, not answering his question. “When was I going to tell you? On the phone?”

  “It’s probably better that Zee told me instead of you. I didn’t take it well,” he replies, getting up from his seat and taking his plate to the sink. I move around the counter away from him, feeling awkward and sad.

  “Russell, I wasn’t getting out of Dominion’s chateau without Reed. I made a lot of enemies when I went there. They would’ve found a way to kill me,” I say, trying to explain.

  “Yeah, I know. I got that part: your life was threatened—that’s what duress means,” he says.

  “I know what duress means. I’m trying to tell you that maybe that’s why no one told me I had to ask you for permission,” I say with exasperation.

  “No, Zee said they didn’t ask me because they were afraid I’d say no,” he replies.

  “What?” I ask, not sure I heard him right.

  “Yeah, he said that he and Buns were holdin’ their breath ‘cuz without my permission, it shouldn’t have worked,” he says with reluctance.

  “But it did work,” I reply absently, touching my shirt where the mark of Reed’s wings lies above my heart—a brand that looks like the image of his wings appeared on my skin after we swore our vow to be united for eternity.

  “Yeah,” Russell says quietly, “but it may not be irrevocable. I still have at least an equal claim to you.”

  “And where am I in all of this?” I ask, watching him rinse his dish and put it in the dishwasher. “Don’t you think you should ask me what I want?”

  “What I’m sayin’ is that you still have time to figure that out, Red,” he replies.

  “I don’t need time to figure it out. I love him,” I say, feeling my throat closing. I struggle to keep the emotions I’m feeling from showing because it’s killing me to have this conversation with Russell. The last thing I want to do is hurt him. I love Russell. I love him with a certainty that I’ll never know a better soul than his, but he has to know that Reed is my angel—my aspire. “Do you…do you ever wonder why we’re here?” I ask.

  He laughs, but not with humor. “All the time,” he says, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. “Why? Has Reed told you his theory?”

  “Reed has a theory about why we’re here?” I counter, feeling confused. “What did he say?”

  “He hasn’t told you?” he asks, looking a little surprised.

  I shake my head. “What…what is it?” I ask timidly, not sure I’m ready to hear this theory.

  “When he came to get me…after I went home,” he says, “Reed might’ve mentioned to me somethin’ ‘bout why he thought you chose this mission—to be the first half-breed angel with a soul.”

  “He thinks I chose this?” I ask, feeling my anxiety increase because Reed has never mentioned anything to me about it.

  “He asked me what I did to make you accept a mission like this one…one that not many souls would volunteer for ‘cuz there are so many ways to lose your soul to Sheol for it,” he replies, and I shiver.

  I close my eyes, rubbing my hand over them. “Uhh, this is a nightmare,” I say under my breath. “I’m sure it wasn’t anything you did.”

  “He said somethin’ to me though. I can’t seem to get rid of it. Reed asked me how it was possible for him to come between two soul mates. He seemed confused by it,” Russell says, watching my reaction.

  “I’m part angel now,” I point out. “Maybe if I was still entirely human, then it would be different.”

  “But, that still doesn’t account for you takin’ this mission,” he says.

  “I wish I knew, Russell, but I’m in the dark just as much as you are,” I reply.

  “I just…if I did somethin’ to you…somethin’ that made you have to get away…I’m sorry,” Russell says, his voice sounding strained.

  “Don’t…we don’t know what happened. I’m sure it’s not you—it couldn’t be you,” I say, feeling awful.

  “I don’t remember anythin’ ‘bout Paradise…I remember the life before this one,” he says.

  “You do?” I ask, seeing the lightning outside illuminate his face. He’s starting to look a little better, not as swollen as he was earlier.

  “Uh huh, it was sorta tragic…we were French,” he says with a grin.

  “Oh yeah?” I ask, smiling at his remark. “Don’t tell me that we went to the guillotine together,” I add, playing along.

  “Naw…I’m not sure what happened to you…I was a soldier…I swear, I’ve spent most of my lives fightin’,” he says with a sad twist of his lips. “I was young—twenty-one and World War One was eruptin’ in Europe. It was the summer of nineteen fourteen. I’d been in love with you since the first time I saw you. You were a few years younger than me. Your brother, Michel, introduced us when I came home with him for a holiday from University the year before,” he says distantly, his slow smile at the memory brings lightness to his face. “The first time I saw you, you were sittin’ in the music room of your house, playin’ the piano for a room full of your beaus…you were awful, the worst Bach I had ever heard,” he grins, his brown eyes dancing.

  “Nice to know that nothing has changed,” I reply with a smirk.

  “Naw, nothin’ has changed, ‘cuz it was all an act,” he smiles, shaking his head. “You could play flawlessly and when they all left and you thought you were alon
e, you played like you wrote the piece yourself.”

  “That does kind of sound like me,” I say, smiling. “Did you tell me I should join a band?” I ask, knowing what a smartass he can be.

  “Standin’ in the doorway of the room, I asked you how you managed to enchant the very air around you with just the soft touch of your fingers,” he says as the lightning illuminates one side of his face. “But, to be honest, it wasn’t just the music…it was seein’ you that took my breath away.”

  “So, what happened?” I ask, not being able to help myself.

  “Well, when I went back to school, I lived for the letters you sent me,” he admits, glancing at me with a touch of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. “I married you in the spring of nineteen fourteen. It was a smaller wedding than you should’ve had…you were the daughter of a prominent lawyer in your town,” he says, “but everythin’ was bein’ hoarded at that time so it was hard to get anythin’.”

  “What was your name?” I ask, trying to picture the life he’s describing.

  “Nicolas…Pierpont and you were Simone…Vassar,” he says, the names rolling off his tongue as if a true Frenchman spoke them. “You were…Lord, I can’t even describe you ‘cuz there aren’t words for your kind of beauty. I guess you’re just gonna have to look in the mirror. You were a little different…smaller…with hair the color of chocolate and your eyes were dark…smoky…but you look the same somehow—same face.”

  “Simone,” I whisper the name, closing my eyes and trying to see if I can remember being her.

  “We didn’t have enough time together before I had to leave you,” he says, the look of pain on his face makes me aware that he’s seeing it all again.

  “Did you die…in the war?” I ask when he doesn’t continue.

  “Yeah…the last thing I remember was bein’ in a trench near the Belgium border. We were gettin’ pounded by the kr—uh…the Germans,” he says, watching my face and seeing my confusion. “We had been there for weeks. It was miserable, ‘cuz guys were dyin’ all ‘round us from bein’ shot, but the medics were havin’ a hard time gettin’ to our position at the front. I had a picture of you…it was spattered with mud and grime. I was holdin’ it, when the clouds came rollin’ in…” he trails off, looking pale.