Chapter 4

Leander blinked down at the name on his birth certificate. “Mylas Braden,” he said quietly, the unfamiliar name rolling around on his tongue.

“Yeah, there’s a weird thing going on with the names, don’t you think?” Cleona asked.

His gaze flicked to hers. “What do you mean?”

She stood and glanced at the paper he held. “Leander and Mylas, they’re all names from Greek mythology.”

“How do you know that?”

She shrugged and her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “It was my favorite subject. Gods and goddesses with the power to tip the balance of power on a whim. I envied them that.”

“Like a warlock can,” he murmured.

“I guess.” She tapped her lip and narrowed her eyes. “Now that I think about it, Orion is Greek, too.”

He sighed and scratched his chin. “I think it’s time we admit that there might just be something to all of this.”

“For all I know, I’m just Cleona Rowan, average, blue-collar slinger of Sam’s Gut Busting Breakfast, guaranteed to keep you full till dinner,” she said.

“You’re so much more than that,” he said quietly.

She let out a laugh totally devoid of humor. “I’m an average woman. The fanciest thing about me is my name.”

“And what about that? Cleona Rowan? Maeve Brennan? Aren’t those Irish? Isn’t it weird that you both have Irish names?” he asked.

She rubbed her eyes, the signs of exhaustion settling in on her in the slump of her shoulders. She needed rest.

But he needed answers.

Seeing his father’s name in black and white sparked a whole new reality for him. He had something to go on now, whether through Orion or a PI, he’d find answers.

“It has to be coincidence,” Cleona said, rubbing her forehead. “If what Maeve said is true, we were all adopted by different people. It’s not like our names were orchestrated like yours could have been.”

He set the birth certificate on his coffee table. “You mind if I get that number from you?”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I’m going to see if the name rings any bells with Orion while I do some digging of my own. In the meantime, you need to have a talk with your mom.”

“You say it like it’s as simple as ordering a pizza,” she said with a smirk.

“I think she’ll be honest with you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She has this no-nonsense way about her. Tells it like it is. And she loves you,” he said by way of reminder.

No matter what was happening, he didn’t want this to cost them their bond. Not when her mother needed so much care and when Cleona had never mentioned any other family.

Besides her mother, they were both loners. There was a certain irony in that.

“She’s my mother, she has to love me,” Cleona said with a smile.

“Hey, it’s not just that. You’re her biggest accomplishment. Before you moved here, she said you were meant to be something. Something special. A force to be reckoned with.”

“That’s code for stubborn.”

“It was more than that,” he said, sliding a hand in his jeans pocket. “Go home, get some rest, and talk to her in the morning.”

“The first thing I’m going to do is soak in the tub. I’m pretty sure every muscle I have has stayed coiled tight since this morning. If I don’t relax them, I might just snap,” she said, picking up her purse from where she had set it next to her and sliding the strap over her shoulder.

“Before you go, one more thing,” he said.

“Hmmm?”

If it was all true, his hang-ups didn’t matter. Her reasons, whatever they were that kept her at arm’s length, they were all moot.

Their road was predestined.

He hooked his hand around her neck and pulled her to him. Her eyes widened, her gaze locked on his. He leaned in, a smile on his lips as her eyelids slid closed and her rough exhale fanned over his seeking mouth.

He captured her lips with his, delving into her mouth, eager to feel the glide of her hot tongue against his. One smooth stroke and he groaned at the taste of his beer still lingering on her.

She shuddered under his hand, as though she might just burst apart as she wrapped her arms around his waist, her warm hands sliding up under his T-shirt, meeting his fevered skin.

Just seconds before he wanted nothing more than to strip her bare and taste her, but with her curious, exploratory touch, her skin claiming his, his desire shifted to the way her hands set off a forest fire of need as they roamed over his flesh. He wanted to tear his shirt off and guide her over the landscape of his body.

He wanted to revel in the way she explored his curves and ridges. and memorize the way she explored his flesh.

Even if he never buried himself inside her, he could die a happy man at the touch of her hands as they danced over him. 

He wrapped his hand around her hair and dragged his fist to the center of her back, the force pulling her mouth from his.

A light flashed in his mind, and he squeezed his eyes shut with the force of it. The sliver of light slashing through the night illuminated a field of moss under a blanket of stars.

He shook with the vision, his lips going to Cleona’s neck, sucking the soft flesh there into his mouth.

A scream pierced his brain and his fingers fisted, yanking her hair tighter as he scraped against the edge of her jaw with his teeth.

A river of blood seeping into the damp earth cut through him and he let her go, stumbling back from her where he caught the wall to stabilize himself.

“What the hell just happened?” Cleona asked, her chest heaving as she gasped for air.

“Kiss,” he grunted out, trying to get air of his own.

“I got that part. But what happened to you?” she asked, her slim hands going to the red marks he left on her delicate skin.

“I don’t know. It’s like another time, another place tried to suck me back.”

“I need to talk to my mother,” she said, weaving through the boxes toward the door.

“Cleona,” he said, pushing himself away from the wall and straightening his shoulders. “Text me that number when you get home.”

“Uh huh, yeah, umm sure. Yup. I’ll just let myself—”

He grabbed her hand and yanked her back for one more hard kiss on her lips, making her squeak.

“This is just the beginning, Cleona. No matter what you find out, this isn’t over,” he said, dropping her hand and letting her go.

***

Ten minutes later Leander waited as the phone rang on the other end. After the third ring, Maeve’s sleepy voice came over the line.

“Hello?” she asked.

“Maeve? It’s Leander. From at Cleona’s,” he reminded her.

“I remember,” she said with new energy infused in her voice. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. Actually, I need to talk to Orion. Is he there?”

“Uh, sure, yeah. Hang on just a minute,” she said.

He listened to the sound of muffled voices on the other end of the line followed by some shuffling.

“Orion,” Orion said, his voice laced with the same tension from earlier that day.

Leander checked his anger in the interest of finding the truth. “I have a name. I’m wondering if it’s familiar.”

“What is it?” Orion said, his voice low.

“Mylas Braden.”

He exhaled audibly over the line. “It’s not familiar, but it’s a Greek name.”

“Yeah, that’s what Cleona pointed out.”

“Who is it?” Orion asked.

“My father,” Leander said, the words strange coming from his lips so many times in one day. This situation had him popping open veins all over the place, and it was going to take some serious getting used to.

“You couldn’t have just said that earlier?” Orion said.

“I didn’t know his name. I only just found out,” Leander said, a wave of self-consciousness sweeping through him which was ridiculous. Lots of kids had single parents and maybe didn’t know much about the absent parent, it’s not like there was shame in that.

“What prompted you to look?”

“Your questions about the cuff at first, then Cleona’s,” Leander stopped. The possibility she speed-healed wasn’t his story to tell.

“What about Cleona?”

“Nothing. She’s going to talk to her mother is all. Listen, do you have people you can ask about Mylas?” Leander asked.

“I do. I may not have answers until the morning. Either my dad will know, or I’ll cast a revelation spell and find out on my own,” Orion said as casual as though it was no different than walking about to get the mail.

“Wouldn’t the spell just be quicker?” The words sounded absurd coming out of his mouth.

“It would, but every spell I cast takes precious energy, and Belen is waiting to exploit every weakness. If I can get the info from my dad, that’s best. Especially if you are what I think you are. If it turns out you’re one of us, you’re more vulnerable because you have no training and that vulnerability puts Cleona at further risk.”

Leander popped open the fridge for another beer, thought about what Orion just said about being vulnerable, and grabbed a bottled water instead. “You sound positive about Cleona. How is that possible?”

“Because I cast a spell to find her. There was no other way, time is short,” Orion said.

“This sounds ridiculous. You know that, right?”

Orion laughed. “You get used to it. Listen, I’ll call you in the morning to let you know what I find out. Is Cleona with you?”

“No, but she’s not far. Just three trailers away,” Leander said, glancing out the window to her place. The lamp they left on in the living room had been turned off.

The darkness set his heart racing, which was stupid. She said she planned to take a bath. It’s not like she’d leave all the lights on.

But Orion’s words had Leander questioning even the most basic of things.

“You’d be better off keeping her closer,” Orion said.

“You don’t think I want her closer?”

“Oh, I think we all know just how close you want her. You’d do good to press those instincts. He’s eventually going to find you, and he’s going to find a way in.”

“Who is Belen?” Leander asked.

“He’s our ancestor,” Orion said quietly. “But in this case, he might as well be the devil himself. And he wants to control our females. It’s the only way he can secure immortality and allow him to systematically take over.”

“Take over what?” Leander said as a chill raced up his spine.

“The world.”