Three months later
LOST IN A CHASM OF crushing sorrow, I lie curled in a ball on the hardwood floor, listening to the whistling wind. It rhythmically rustled the lace curtains as it came through the open window and brushed over my skin.
I shivered violently, teeth chattering as the cold breeze sank into my bones.
My mind pleaded for warmth, but I denied it that salvation.
I searched for the physical pain in order to kill the emotional.
End the pain of losing him.
“Delara! Jesus. What the hell are you doing?” Jedrik stormed over to the window and slammed it shut, causing the glass vase on the sill to fall and shatter on the floor.
He ignored it, striding back toward me, then crouched and picked me up in his arms. I didn’t fight him. Not today. I had no strength to fight the comfort today.
“Sass, this can’t continue.”
He laid me on the bed then grabbed the blankets and pulled them over my trembling body.
My body sighed with relief while parts of me rebelled against the comfort. I didn’t want comfort or warmth; I wanted pain.
For weeks or months, I no longer knew which, I’d remained alone in my room, fighting Jedrik, Keir, or anyone else who tried to make me leave. I reacted so violently that they finally stopped.
And then they stopped coming in my room altogether.
Except Jedrik. He came to see me every day. Weeks ago, he’d picked me up and thrown me in a bathtub filled with freezing cold water. The effect wasn’t what he wanted, because I craved the numbness, the cold to blanket me in its arms and take me away.
He’d been so mad, he threw a cloth and bar of soap at me, told me I stank, and stormed out.
Sometimes Jedrik sat on the floor near the door and read a book to me, and other times he’d say nothing at all. I liked those times.
Quiet. Nothingness.
Lately, he’d been more persistent, shouting at me, even threatening to call one of the Wraiths. But as each day passed the fog around my mind deepened and I felt my body fading.
Alone. Desolate. Unable to climb from the darkness that kept me locked away. I’d fallen down a long, dark tunnel. Trapped, yet I was safe here from the pain.
The mattress sagged as Jedrik sat on the edge. “Delara, the Taldeburu of Europe, is on his way here. You’ve heard of Xamien, right? A Reflector. He can help you get through this. I know your bond with Waleron was strong, but he wouldn’t want you to die. I don’t want you to die.”
He smoothed back my hair and I closed my eyes, the trembling easing.
I’m almost there.
Deeper into the darkness from where I’d never emerge. Where I was safe.
A shield lowered over my mind and I felt myself slip further and further away.
“Waleron,” I whispered.
“Delara. Open your eyes. No, damn it. Stay with me.”
Was someone shaking me? I had to go further.
Darkness enveloped me and Jedrik slipped away. Everything did. I was alone with my nothingness.
“I don’t know how long it will take to reach her mind. Her shields will be strong and she’ll fight to keep me out.” I’d never met the Tracker Delara, but I’d heard of her and Waleron’s immeasurable love. Christ, everyone had. And from the moment I walked into the Talde house, I felt her all-consuming grief. “I may need your assistance. I’m uncertain what I’ll find once I’ve connected with her.”
Jedrik nodded. “Anything. I’ll wait outside the door until you need me. However long it takes. Whatever it takes. She can’t stay like this. She hasn’t moved in days, almost like she’s in Rest. Her body has shut down and I can’t wake her anymore.”
Rest was a state a Taldeburu put a Scar into when they were imprisoned. Their body shut down and the Scar was forced to relive their nightmares over and over again.
Delara was lost deep within her mind and shutting down. Soon there would be no way back for her.
I felt the love Jedrik had for Delara and it was that of a brother for his sister, a love so unconditional it could never be broken. If I could reach Delara and bring her partway back, then Jedrik could do the rest.
“It may be hours,” I said.
“I know.”
I nodded then opened the bedroom door.
Immediately, I was overwhelmed with the scent of stale, morbid air. Grief lived and breathed in this room. Jesus Christ, the woman was drowning in pain. I worried—even if I brought her back, would she be able to live a normal life? The connection between her and Waleron was too strong, and it was killing her without him.
I walked over to the bed and glanced down at the woman. She was beautiful. Not in a stunning way, but she had natural beauty that people were drawn to.
Far too pale, however. And skinny, with pronounced cheekbones.
I swept a finger across her temple, pushing aside a few stray strands of hair. There was something about her that triggered a familiarity. Maybe it was because I’d lost someone important to me like she had.
“He’d want you to live.” She lie still, her chest barely moving. There were no emotions lingering around her; she was too deep within herself.
I walked to the window, pulled a wooden chair away from the wall, and moved it beside the bed. Sitting, I took her hand in mine, and closed my eyes, immediately searching for the lock that would allow me to enter Delara’s mind.
As a strong Reflector, I had the ability to read emotions and manipulate them. Scars had shields around their minds; a Reflector had to find the lock and the key in order to open the door.
Humans were much easier, as they had no shields; however, every mind had a protective barrier. As far as I knew, I was the only Reflector capable of manipulating a Scar’s mind.
Attempting to enter Delara’s mind was like slamming into an ice block: I had to chip away at it in order to find the key.
Delara’s mind was a dark, empty fortress. Most minds had something on the other side of the wall, but not this one. I searched around it, every nook, every cranny, and was unable to find a single memory, feeling, or emotion.
Her mind was dead.
That meant one thing. She was so far hidden within herself that she’d turned her mind off. I had to find a way to flick the switch. Bring back emotions.
And the way to do that was use the one man who had taken her away—Waleron. If I could lower her shield for one second, I could enter her mind and try to influence it from there.
I’d only met Waleron briefly a couple of times, when I sat on the Deaconry with the Wraiths. But I was able to recall his scent, and that was what I needed her to smell.
The ability to manipulate the air around me wasn’t a gift from the Goddess. It was my mother who’d had the special gift of magic in her veins. It was something I’d never been great at, but I’d learned some of the spells she’d taught me.
I reached into my pants pocket and pulled out the small black marble and rubbed it between my palms. Closing my eyes, I chanted quietly the words my mother had so eloquently spoken, letting the particles of air cling to my skin as the marble grew cold.
“Waleron’s scent let be.” I employed the air toward me, heaviness enveloping me. “Bring forth into me.” I continued to roll the marble between my palms; it was now ice cold.
Suddenly, I was slammed in the chest, my breath knocked out of me as Waleron’s scent emanated from the marble, shot into the air, then settled onto my skin like a blanket.
I opened my eyes, slipped the marble into my pocket, and leaned forward, forearms on the mattress beside Delara’s motionless form.
Patience was the key to her mind. When she smelled Waleron near, she’d release the lock on her mind in order to take in his scent. I’d have one second before the gate closed again.
And if I failed, I knew I wouldn’t have another chance. This was it.
I watched and waited for any signs of movement, but Delara remained passive. Her eyes were closed and languid beneath her lids, her body lifeless, lips parted slightly to take in subtle inhales.
The first sign I had her were the goose bumps on her neck.
I held my breath, waiting.
Her inhales deepened.
Her finger twitched.
“Waleron?”
Her soft voice was a haggard whisper, barely audible. I shifted closer, my palms resting on either side of her head, hoping, praying I’d be able to enter her mind.
Her eyes moved back and forth beneath her lids then her breath hitched, followed by a choked sob, before a horrific cry emerged from her throat.
I closed my eyes and searched for the break in her mind, a place to enter the darkness. I pushed at the shield again and again trying to find the weak spot I knew was there.
Finally, the wall gave way and I free-fell into her mind, into the cold darkness filled with webs of confusion and grief.
I needed to reach the end of the tunnel in order to knit a path for Delara to return to the living, which meant I had to go back to the beginning. She stayed here because the world had nothing left to offer. Here, deep in her mind, there were memories of him. Waleron.
When I reached the end, I began building a path out of the darkness for her to follow. My scent of Waleron was the lure. But each time I made it further upward; I had to wait while she slowly and cautiously climbed up after me, following Waleron’s scent as if he were the one calling to her.
I tried to stay out of the memories as much as possible, but on occasion, to make a new path, I needed something to entice her. A memory.
Waleron teaching her how to grapple. When she’d fallen out of a tree. Waleron racing across a meadow on horseback after her. Both of them laughing. I’d use their intimacy if I needed to, but for now, she was coming with me out of the darkness.
One more path. I saw the light, but I also felt her hesitation. She was pulling back from me. Fuck. I couldn’t let that happen.
“No, Delara. Come with me,” I said softly. My finger trailed a path down her cheek, hoping she was close enough to the surface of her mind that she could feel my gentle touch.
“Waleron wants you to live.”
She fell back and I swore beneath my breath. If I didn’t take control, I’d lose her.
“Do as I say, Delara. I will not leave you here.” I cupped her cheek. “This place is no longer safe. The memories of him will die and you will be left in the darkness. The light is already fading. Do you feel it? Do you feel your body getting cold? That is the darkness.”
The uncertainty in her mind fought against me. She was frozen. Refusing to go any further. Untrusting.
“It’s safe here. In time, you’ll heal.” I stroked her hair with the back of my hand. “You love him. He knew that, Delara. He’d want you to love him in life, not in death.”
She remained impassive to my words. Christ, she wasn’t going to come with me, a stranger. I’d done as much as I could.
Now it was Jedrik’s turn.
The moment I pulled from her mind, there was a feeling of emptiness. I’d never had that before, but it was as if a piece of me remained trapped there. I’d never been so deep into someone’s mind or for such an extended period of time before.
Rising, I walked to the door and opened it.
Jedrik leapt to his feet. “Shit, Xamien, you look like hell.”
“Hours of mindweaving will do that.”
Jedrik’s hand ran through his mess of blond curls. “Delara?”
“She’s near the surface, but I cannot convince her to waken. I’m hoping you can draw her the rest of the way. Someone she trusts.” I peered over my shoulder at the bed. “Her love for him—it’s powerful.”
“Yeah. A Taldeburu’s love. She’ll never be the same without him,” Jedrik said.
Even if she came back to the living, she’d never be complete without Waleron. “I’m sorry but I need to head back to Spain. A horde of vampires are causing problems in a nearby town.”
Jedrik shook my hand. “Thank you, Xamien.”
“Good luck,” I said, then Traced from the room.
“Delara?”
That voice. I knew that voice.
Jedrik.
I stepped toward him. The other man was gone, the man who smelled like Waleron and yet wasn’t. He’d been comforting and gentle, but I was scared to go with him. Scared to let go of the darkness and face the pain again.
“Delara, it’s time. I need you to take my hand. Come on, sweetie.”
The bed sagged beneath his weight.
His fingers curled around mine. “Squeeze my hand, so I know you can hear me.”
I walked closer to the surface, the light brighter. But with each step closer the coldness and pain grew more unbearable.
It wasn’t safe. It was too real. I was afraid. And God, I was so alone.
“You will only be alone if you stay there.”
I inhaled at the sound of the voice in my mind. It was him. The man who’d found me in the depths of my mind and led me to the surface.
“No matter where you are, I will always bring you back safely. Go to Jedrik.”
“I’m scared.”
“Me too, kitten. Do it for the love of the man you’ve lost. Make him proud. He taught you to fight. So fight.”
Oh God. How could I fight? How could I live each day without Waleron?
“Delara? Please,” Jedrik begged.
I moved further into the light, and the emotions bombarded me while my body trembled. I was about to turn and run back to where there was no pain when Jedrik’s arms pulled me to him.
“Shhh, sass. We’ll get through this,” Jedrik whispered next to my ear while he rocked me back and forth. “I’m not letting you go this time. I won’t give up on you.” He kissed my temple. “Waleron is gone. But you’re not. Find the strength to live with his memory.”
A scream wrenched from my parched throat, coming out scratched and broken. Like me. I was broken and damaged, with wounds that would never heal.
Then uncontrollable, jerking sobs pulled me the final steps from the abyss. Jedrik caressed the back of my head like a mother would her child.
“I’m staying here until you can face the world again. It’s been long enough. Waleron would not be happy if he knew you suffered like this. He loved you, sass, but I love you, too, and I’m not letting you go.”
I tensed at the sound of Waleron’s name, the tears falling faster. “I can’t… I can’t let him go. It’s like a knife is stabbing my insides over and over again and I can’t stop it.” I hiccupped on the sobs. “It’s like he… he’s still with me but I can’t reach him. I feel like he is alive and…. Jedrik, it’s killing me to feel like he’s alive and know that he isn’t.” I inhaled a ragged breath. “I don’t know how to live without him.”
Jedrik wiped the tears from my cheeks with the pad of his thumb, but it was pointless because they continued to fall. “And I can’t live without my best friend. I love you, too, sass. You’re my family.”
Jedrik was family, not by blood but by friendship, the only family I had left. I loved him, and he didn’t deserve this pain I caused him.
I slowly opened my eyes and looked up at him. “I miss him. I miss him so much.”
“I know, sweetie. I know,” he murmured. “And I would do anything to bring him back for you, but I can’t, so we have to do what he’d wanted—live and honor our oaths.”
The sobs choked me.
“You have to let him go.” He lowered his voice to a warm, soothing purr. “Cry, sass. Cry until you let him go. If it takes a day, two days, another friggin’ month, so be it. We will stay here until you’ve finished crying.” His arms wrapped around me squeezed. “I’m not leaving you. You can rant and rave and hit me all you want, but I’m staying until we can leave this room together.”
“Jedrik?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t like being here, but thank you.”
“It’s your smell that made me do it. Christ, you need a bath.”
Laughter was dead in me now, but I found his hand and squeezed.
There was a shifting in my mind and I felt someone there. A man. The man who’d smelled of Waleron and helped me.
“You will never be alone. Our mindweaving has connected us.”
Then he was gone. I closed my eyes and fell into an exhausted sleep.
It was three days before I managed to leave what had become my self-inflicted prison.
The hopelessness remained. It was a desolate emotion that grabbed hold and refused to let go. But I’d found an outlet, something to ease the emotional pain. It was wrong and illogical, but surviving immortality without Waleron was illogical.
I sat on the edge of the tub and dragged the knife across my thigh, sighing as the skin parted and blood seeped from the fresh wound.
Pain for pain.