Stained Souls: The Salsang Chronicles Part V Read online

  A walking miracle.

  Watching Marcella hold Barclay in return, loving him back, made my heart hurt—in a good way. This was the joy of the bond, the wonder of our unique connection.

  I’d forgotten that these days past. The brothers had been a nuisance, a pain in the ass, as I tried to meander the political machinations that could see us all killed if I didn’t handle them appropriately.

  I’d dealt with those machinations in the way I always did, like a shark hunting in blood-tinged water, but I was more than that now.

  Because of Marcella, I was the sea itself and they were the ones pissing in my water.

  “Thank fuck you’re okay,” Cade rasped, pressing his lips to her shoulder as he rubbed his hands along her arm. The others were doing the same, their arms stretched out as they touched her where they could. The need to connect was paramount in me too, but in the brothers? In those who’d lost so much? No, their need was an ache in desperate need of assuaging.

  We’d almost lost her. Had it not been for my putting a time walker in this brotherhood, we would have never had our Marcella back…

  My throat grew thick and clogged with emotion as I whispered, “Marcella?”

  I couldn’t touch her, there was no room for me to do so, but I could reach her with my words.

  “Yes?” she murmured, her face still burrowed in Barclay’s throat.

  “I love you.”

  She tensed, then she peered out from Barc’s hold, and whispered, “I love you, too.”

  “I’m sorry, Mate,” I carried on, sucking in a breath as I awaited her explosion, her righteous fury at the danger I’d placed us all in by being an arrogant ass.

  If we’d gone to the council, all guns blazing, had declared who we were and what was happening with the Sires, then none of this would have ever gone down.

  As it was, we’d avoided the future, but only for a short while. It was approaching us, growing nearer and nearer as the second hand on the clock ticked down.

  The very thought had me feeling nauseated, and for a man who was used to controlling his life, this was beyond a breach in my control—it was an outright explosion.

  Swallowing thickly, I quietly stated, “We must act. You know that, right?”

  Marcella dipped her chin, but continued peeking at me over Barc’s shoulder.

  Taking that as assent, I asked, “What did he say?”

  “That he is in a copse of trees. Where the sun sets over water, and the sea rises to meet you. The isle beyond Land’s End.”

  My brow puckered and mine wasn’t the only one. The brothers all began reciting her words, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

  “Did he say it like a riddle?” Raven questioned, running a hand through his hair and tugging slightly at the ends.

  “No. He said it like I should know where it was.”

  Unease filtered through me. “The land has changed many times since he was imprisoned. I suppose those were the nearest coordinates he could give.” And when I said ‘coordinates,’ I meant that in the loosest possible way.

  Keiran scowled down at the comforter on Marcella’s bed. “Back then, they didn’t even know about places like America. It was all Europe. Maybe they knew about the upper reaches of Africa, and to the West, they were aware of the Eastern lands because of the Crusades, maybe? Or is that too late?”

  “Merlin was before my time,” I replied dryly, amused that they looked to me as their Wikipedia guide. “I’m ancient, but I’m not that old.”

  Cade snorted. “Fucking fuddy-duddy.”

  Marcella giggled, and even though I was still feeling shaky, I beamed at her. I was so happy to hear that sound that I didn’t even feel like clipping Cade behind the ear.

  “Surely that’s too loose of a clue to go off?” Gideon argued. “I mean, the sun sets over water all over the damn world, and ‘the sea rises to meet you?’ Maker, how many flood zones are there out there? He could be talking about anywhere.”

  “You’re not wrong,” I agreed, “but Merlin would have had a limited understanding of geography. Even one as powerful as he would only explore territory that is worthwhile to him.” I shot them all a look when they scoffed at me. “When do you think the Sires first set foot in the States?”

  “Before the Europeans wandered over here?” Keiran reasoned.

  I shook my head. “It was in the nineteen hundreds. That was when they decided it was worth their attention. You have to remember, these beings are deities. To them, very little of what matters to us is important to them.”

  “You don’t think he was talking about Ireland, do you?” Barclay queried, his brow furrowed as he thought it out.

  “Why?” Gideon asked.

  “Because that was the nearest island to him,” Barclay reasoned, and he wasn’t actually wrong—from an American standpoint.

  “Have you heard of the Isle of Man or the Isle of Wight?” I inquired softly, not meaning to downplay his reasoning, but just gently making the suggestion.

  When they all looked at me blankly, I nodded. “They’re in the British Isles, a part of that territory. The Isle of Man just happens to be between Wales and Ireland.”

  “That doesn’t narrow down our search,” Marcella whispered, and because she wasn’t wrong, I had to grimace.

  “No, you’re right. It doesn’t. What did he say about the trees?” I queried, daring to reach out and press my hand to her calf. I stroked her there gently, and when she didn’t pull back, I didn’t feel like an outright and utter shit.

  I’d let her down. Let them all down with my piousness and machinations this week with the council, and for what? Nothing, because nothing was more important than her or her safety.

  “He said the trees talked to him.” Her eyes were wide as they connected with mine, and I could sense that she was daring me to call her a liar.

  Before I could utter a word, however, Gideon blurted out, “They talked to him?”

  “Yes.” She licked her lips. “He pretty much said that was how he stayed sane and kept in the know.”

  Gideon frowned. “Have any of you heard of Devon?”

  “Devon? Like Devonshire?” Marcella asked. “Keira Knightley played the Duchess of Devonshire in that movie a while back—”

  Gideon snorted. “Well, that wasn’t what I was thinking, honey, but there’s an ancient forest in Lydford Gorge. It’s the deepest gorge in the Southwest, and there’s a waterfall there.” He waited a beat. “It’s called the White Lady Waterfall.”

  Barclay gaped at him. “That can’t be a coincidence.”

  “How the hell do you even know about that place, Gid?” Raven exclaimed, sounding put out that Gid knew something he didn’t.

  I’d have been amused if I wasn’t feeling wary.

  “There are certain places that whisper to us,” Gideon explained, looking uneasy as he tried to make us understand something that was unique to his kind.

  It was a big ask.

  “Whisper, as in, how they whisper to Merlin?” Marcella questioned—like a waterfall talking to druids was common parlance.

  “That’s what I’m thinking. But with a waterfall around, the water would whisper to him as well. And when you said the sun sets on the water, well, the gorge connects with the River Lyd, which, in turn, rises to meet the sea…”

  “I’m convinced.”

  Barc’s surety had me snorting. “First things first, how do you know about this Lydford Gorge?”

  Gideon’s unease was apparent. “I didn’t always belong to a brotherhood.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, not appreciating how he was prevaricating.

  Sure, I’d been guilty of that this week, but no more. It was time to lay down all our cards to understand what the fuck was going on.

  “I was born in the U.K. In Devon, to be precise. My mother moved us here so she could dump me at Eastbrook.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She’d hoped I would take more after her than my father, but when I
started needing blood…” His lips tightened.

  “But you’re the weakest salsang of us all,” Barc argued, pissed on his brother’s behalf and showing it very badly.

  Gid snorted. “Thanks, Barc.”

  “You know what I mean,” he grumbled. “What a bitch. Maker, did any of us have halfway decent parents?”

  “No. It’s the nature of our situation,” I replied, thinking back to my own origin—a prostitute for a mother, and a father who was unknown. “Having experienced what we have, we can be better parents to our own offspring.”

  Silence fell at my words, until Marcella gulped. “Offspring?”

  My lips curved as I stared at her, and though I was still feeling shaken, I was loaded with confidence as I whispered, “If you think you weren’t made to be a mother, Marcella, then you’re mistaken.”

  2

  Marcella

  A mother? Me? Yeah, right. I knew all the stuff that the Sires had been talking about was bullshit, but the guys were all looking at me with hope radiating out of their eyes, and it broke my heart.

  “Brotherhoods aren’t allowed to have children, remember?” I told them quietly.

  “Because we’re such a normal brotherhood,” Gideon retorted with a grin, as he looked over at me.

  “You may or may not have a point about that, but I’m never going to willingly become a mother if we can’t get all this shit with Merlin and the Lady figured out,” I countered, after heaving out a sigh.

  I couldn’t tell them that the idea of being a parent scared the bejeezus out of me. It wasn’t like I’d had the best role model for the job either. I just wanted to live a normal life for a while, was that too much to ask?

  “So, we need to go to this Lydford Gorge?” Keiran interjected, piping up for the first time since I’d announced that Merlin had spoken to me. My dream walker was a quiet one, but he was also extremely observant, and I knew he was trying to navigate the conversation away from the topic that was making me squirm in Barclay’s lap like a child.

  I knew there was a reason I loved him.

  “What about the council?” I asked.

  “We’re staying the fuck away from them,” Cade growled. His tone brooked no argument, but I looked to Darius for confirmation nonetheless.

  “Agreed,” Darius stated, surprising the hell out of me.

  “We’re just going to disappear on them and hope that the Cavalry and the Reapers don’t track us down?” I questioned, somewhat astonished by his answer.

  “Could we create a false trail somehow?” Keiran inquired, looking to Darius just as I had. After all, he was the most experienced with them.

  “We’ll have to if we want a head start,” Darius replied, as he slipped his phone from his pocket and began tapping away at the screen.

  “Do we know someone with a private jet?” Cade questioned.

  “I bet Sylvester had one,” I mumbled, hating that my father still crossed my mind.

  All of the guys looked at me with mischief gleaming in their eyes.

  “I bet he did,” Darius said with a grin, which made me regret ever speaking the words. “That sounds far more fun than using mine.”

  I gaped at his playful tone. “Are you being serious right now?”

  “Hell, yeah. We should break into the McCray family home,” Barclay rumbled, his voice filled with joy as it vibrated through me since I was still on his lap.

  “Do you know where it is?” Raven queried.

  My silver-haired mind walker was almost as quiet as Keiran, but not quite. He was far more devious than Keir though.

  An ache welled inside me as I started feeling like I hadn’t spent enough time with any of them recently, like this whole Sire and Maker business was taking over our lives and not leaving us any time to actually live.

  I didn’t want to chase Merlin over the globe, nor did I want to steal my scumbag father’s plane. From my mates’ giddiness, however, I knew that was at the top of our to-do list—they wanted to make Sylvester pay for his abuse.

  Even if their retribution was posthumous.

  Darius smirked at Raven, and replied, “It may have come up in my research.”

  “Research?” Barclay echoed, ever my well-intentioned shifter. If I didn’t know just how dirty he was, I’d think he was some kind of angel.

  “You’re crazy if you think I didn’t research the hell out of that piece of shit the second his name was linked to Marcella’s. I know a little more than what’s public knowledge about the McCray family, including where they would most likely keep a jet or a ship.”

  “I say that we steal both for shits and giggles, then book tickets for another flight. Send the family on two wild goose chases while we are actually taking the third track,” Gideon suggested, his grin wide at the prospect. “It would certainly keep the council off our backs. They won’t have a clue what’s going on.”

  “That means splitting up,” Keir pointed out.

  My heart sank. “No, no way. We stick together.”

  “Chella, we need to move before the council realizes what’s going on, or that we’re not showing up. The only way to do that is to act fast and keep this among ourselves. We don’t know who was working with McCray, or who owes who favors. It’ll be safer this way,” Cade explained.

  “No!” My voice was harsher than I intended, but they’d all seemed to accept this as what they needed to do. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—accept it. We stuck together, that’s what a brotherhood did.

  “You’d prefer for them to find us?” Rav challenged, quirking an eyebrow at me.

  “Of course not! I just feel like if we spend more than two seconds thinking about it, then we can come up with a way to do this without having to split up,” I argued, as I scrambled off of Barc’s lap, needing distance from them, and began pacing the room to work off the sudden surge of energy riding me. “I’m not giving any of you up.”

  The guys fell silent as they let me work through my excess energy, quite sensibly realizing that no way in fuck was I going to let this happen.

  If they spent some time thinking about it with their brains and not their dicks, or at least the testosterone that fueled their need to be James Bond, I reasoned we’d have some semblance of a solution.

  It was Gideon who finally said, “I might be able to call in a favor to have someone take the boat for us.”

  “Yes!” I blurted out, practically throwing myself at him. “That’s perfect. We can go to Sylvester’s plane while your friend deals with the boat, and Darius can book tickets on a random flight elsewhere. Of course, it would be even better if we could get someone to take Darius’s plane out as well.”

  I knew I’d taken some of the fun out of the plan, but being without just one of them was enough to bring me out in a cold sweat. No way was I letting them drift off just so they could pull a practical joke on people who didn’t even matter.

  A couple hours later, when we were pulling into the parking lot for a tiny local airport that only had three hangars for the private planes, Gideon’s phone rang. After a short conversation he nodded at us, letting us know that his friend had successfully commandeered the boat, or yacht, or whatever, and was going out for a nighttime sail, so we were good to take Sylvester’s plane. Not only that but Darius had booked random tickets on a flight and had hired his normal pilot to take his plane out for a short trip. The breadcrumbs had been scattered.

  As we stepped out of the SUV, I felt Rav draw on his powers, hard. The closer we got to the hangar, the more I realized he was controlling anyone he saw so he could give us a clear path to the plane, allowing us to get in the air with no incidents. Darius was inside first, since he was the one who knew which plane was the McCray’s, where everything was kept, and how to fly it.

  Apparently, as he’d told me on the way over, he’d been worried about Sylvester kidnapping me and that was why he knew all the details—I wasn’t about to complain when his anxiety put us in good stead now.

  By the time we were in
the air, with Darius ensconced in the cockpit, I could see the exhaustion etched on Rav’s face. We’d had no problems during the infiltration of the jet and that was all down to our mind walker. Rav’s abilities had let us walk in and fly out without any issues, even from the control tower—I was totally intrigued by that level of power. And, fuck it, horny as hell by the control my mate had exuded throughout.

  I wasn’t sure he could be any hotter on the regular, but when he pulled freaky moves like that? I definitely wanted to climb him like a tree.

  It was going to be a fairly long flight, so as soon as we were able to cruise at the right altitude, I undid my seat belt and pulled on Raven’s hand, leading him back to the bedroom in the rear of the plane. He needed rest and I was going to make sure he got it.

  “Come on, love,” I urged as I closed the door behind us, and tugged his t-shirt over his head before pushing him down onto the bed. His shoes came off next, and I stripped down to my bra and panties and climbed in next to him.

  Raven rumbled his appreciation as I slid closer to him and covered us both with the blankets. His arm wrapped around my middle and pulled me tightly against him, but there was nothing overtly sexual in the touch. We were both exhausted, me from what had gone down with the Lady and him with his recent exertions. The tree-climbing stuff would have to wait until tomorrow, because now that I was in his arms, I wanted nothing more than to find the joy and relaxation we each provided the other.

  And the fact that Raven wasn’t trying anything?

  Proof enough that he was sleepy as fuck too.

  “I love you,” Raven murmured against the shell of my ear, and his soft words, as well as the genuine throb of feeling in his voice, had me shivering with wonder.

  “I love you, too.” Though it pained me, I had to tack on, “Now, get some rest.” He needed sleep more than he needed me to start sobbing on him because I was overcome with emotion.

  We both settled into each other a little more, and my thoughts lingered on how much my life had changed in such a short time while he slipped into sleep. Sleep wasn’t for the weak, it was for the strong, especially those who knew they’d need their strength in the coming days.