Edge (Edge Serial Book 1) Page 3

  “What the hell! You said it was only me tonight! You have them waiting in line? You ass!” the girl belted as Shade dropped her legs and looked over his shoulder.

  “Son of a bitch,” he breathed as he stared at Reveca then grabbed the girl by her arm and pushed her out of the bathroom, not even giving her a chance to pull her skirt back down. Reveca could hear him calling out to the other Sons, telling them to find Talon.

  Reveca had made it to her knees. She reached for the faucet in the tub and turned it to a mix of cold and hot, holding the girl’s hand as she did so. She had to make sure they were the same temperature.

  Her head was spinning. She was still in shock no doubt, but she was replaying her night, cursing herself. Even though that spell was entrapping Holden in that tree, even though he was still alive, she very well could have hazed his mind, which would have wiped away what he knew of what led to this night. The details.

  It was a foolish mistake. She should have thought of another spell. She recognized that now. But the shock, the grief, and as dim and dark as she had felt in recent years had all influenced her clouded judgment this night.

  The Pentacle Sons may not be able to reach those memories of Holden’s now, but she would still have her revenge one way or another.

  She glanced up at Shade as he walked back in the room.

  “What the hell, Vec? Talon is going to go ape shit. He just rode out looking for you.”

  “What! Why would he leave?” Reveca nearly cursed. “Why do I even bother with setting up alibis for any of you if all you know how to do is fuck them up.”

  He clinched his jaw in fury. “You vanished. There one minute, then gone the next. And you were not here when we got back,” Shade said rushing his hands through his hair.

  Reveca gave him a halfway smirk. He was one of the younger ones in the life, still adjusting to his transformation which was decades ago. He had this whole baby face bad boy deal going for him. Fierce as hell, but at a glance he looked somewhat innocent. That made him dangerous in more ways than one. He knew how to use his appearance to his advantage.

  “I didn’t mean to kill your high,” she said with a nod to the wall he’d had that girl against moments before. It wasn’t really a high; it was more of an escape. Shade fed on energy and when that energy was full of malice, it would haunt him. Him fucking girls gave him something else to focus on, and it enhanced his energy even more. Sex is energy. Energy is power.

  Shade’s attention was on the girl that was passed out on the floor. “Didn’t get that far.”

  Reveca furrowed her brow. Normally an impudent remark like that would have been accompanied by his signature sneer, the one where his top lip raised just a bit.

  Right then other Sons pushed in the room. Echo, Judge, and Thrash.

  “Out. Alibi. Be social,” Reveca demanded.

  A slew of cuss words and arguments rushed in her direction as they all demanded to know what happened, who this girl was.

  Each and every one of those boys towered over Reveca, were three times her width in raw muscle, each devastatingly dangerous in more ways than one. Their size, their looks, had never once intimidated Reveca. They were like brothers, perhaps sons, to her.

  “I said out. Send Cash in here,” she said to Judge. “Get my altar,” she said to Shade, who had yet to take his stare off the girl.

  The boys dispersed with solid grunts laced in curse words bellowing from them. They knew she was right though. They had to be seen.

  Cash, or rather Cashton, he was a different story. None of those humans outside could see him if they wanted to. The moon was still waning.

  Cashton was the result of one of the many barters that Reveca had made with her sister over time. For some reason her sister wanted that boy out of the Veil. The thing was, to come out the way Reveca knew how to bring out souls, they had to be altered. Her sister, of course, seeing Reveca’s magic as dark and warped, did not want that to occur with Cashton.

  Instead, after a number of twisted barters with the Lords of Death, Reveca found an alternative. He was allowed out of the Veil with each new moon, five days before, and five after. Once that time was over he was placed back in the grip of death.

  That bargain was struck years back, and even though Reveca was still not clear on her sister’s motives, she felt that she had been given the upper hand. Cashton was an endless source of information. What he heard, what he saw past the gates of death, he told Reveca, which helped her time and time again when she needed to barter with darkness.

  Because he’d been so valuable at times Reveca had extended his stay in reality, not by much, but days before each stretch of a new moon he was allowed to linger in the Club. Outside of the grounds of the Boneyard no one but those in the life could see him, but still, it gave him a sense of normalcy, helped him ease into his very few living days each month. She had no idea why the boy was willing to go through that painful near maddening transition so often. The excuse of a girl that he gave didn’t add up in Reveca’s mindset.

  Shade was back almost instantly, carrying the small trunk that Reveca kept her portable altar within.

  “Take her clothes off,” Reveca said quietly as she turned the water off.

  Cautiously, she opened her trunk and began to pull out candles, herbs, and crystals.

  When she glanced back she saw the ease that Shade was using to carefully remove the garments that the girl was wearing. Anger clinched his jaw as his fingertips moved across the holes where the bullets had been.

  “Who did this?” His quiet tone was nothing but ruinous. His attitude as a whole was shocking the hell out of Reveca. Shade wasn’t a cold son of a bitch but the only female she had ever known him to show blatant respect for was her, and of course GranDee. The other girls, they were prey to him. An object he used to clear his mind.

  She let the question linger. Right now she needed to take care of this girl, not calm her boys down. Murderous. That would be the only way to describe the reaction this Club would have to what Reveca witnessed tonight.

  Knowing she had destroyed what Holden knew of this night, Reveca knew this girl was her only hope just then of proving what she already assumed. The greed of the twisted lawmen had landed her in this grim hell of grief.

  Bringing someone back, it’s not easy. If it were, those that practice white magic would have long ago found reason to accept the practice. It took more than a vial of energy, more than some witch telling you that you could come back if you wanted, but you would be different. No. That was step one. And that step is never completed under the duress that Reveca performed it tonight.

  Oils and herbs should have cleansed the body. Then it should have been laid in a ring of fire. The heat was symbolic of burning away weakness. Then the body would be placed in purified blessed water, symbolic of a womb, a second birth. The most important aspect to bringing a soul back is emotion. Someone with life or power had to want this person to stay. Not just any want. No, the want had to be rich with emotion.

  To say the least, this ceremony was beyond botched. Fire was there, water was now here, but it was not the same. And the want? Reveca wasn’t sure if her desire to appease her fallen friend’s last request would be enough. This transition—it would never work unless this girl right here fought like hell. She was going to have to prove herself, in more ways than one.

  Shade cradled her nude body against his then lifted her like a lover before lowering her into the tub. The act, the gentleness of it, caused Reveca’s rambling thoughts to halt.

  “You know her?”

  “No,” he said in a deep whisper as his large hand carefully dipped her head under the water. Next to his touch, her skin seemed so much darker than it had when Reveca had found her. White to black, out of place, yet perfectly matched at the same time.

  He lifted her head out of the water, let his hand caress the rivulets out of her closed eyes just as Cashton came in.

  “We’ve got this,” Reveca said to Shade. He hesitated
but then he stood to leave.

  “Who does she belong to? Who wants her to live?” Shade asked knowing that without that, this was all a waste.

  “Us,” Reveca answered.

  Shade’s body tensed. He nodded once then left, brushing his broad shoulder against Cashton as he did.

  Reveca let out a shuddering breath as she stared up at Cashton. He was leaner than the other guys, but that didn’t make him any less commanding.

  His short, dark hair was lingering near his eyes. Eyes that were insane, the centers flamed out in a deep blue, the edges dark as midnight. He had sharp god-like features.

  The passage from life to death is exhausting, would deplete anyone, but from the first time Cashton took that path until now, he only vaguely showed signs of fatigue. Which meant he was powerful. So powerful that at times Reveca questioned exactly what kind of being she was harboring.

  The thing was, Cashton didn’t know either. That transition robbed memories, basically you had knowledge, but most times you had no idea where you gained it from.

  All Cashton knew, or admitted, was that he never died. He claims that he was trapped in death. That’s his truth. Where he’s rumored to come from before he was entrapped is something that myths and legends were made of. Beliefs that Reveca long ago lost respect for. Her sister on the other hand, she was beyond committed to those beliefs.

  “Dear sista, what do we have here?” he asked as his stare trailed down the girl in the tub.

  “Someone who’s going to be bunking with you in the Veil if we don’t set this right.”

  Reveca trained all the Sons on how to use the craft. None really cared for it, but Cashton had a natural aversion to magic, even though Reveca had taught him next to nothing. Having him near now was a gift that Reveca let herself feel gratitude for. All steps in life, no matter how confusing or painful they are, at some point pay their dues. If anyone at this Club could help her save this girl it was him. His calm powerful energy.

  The water was sprinkled with herbs, words were spoken, and the candles were lit before Talon made his way into the bathroom.

  Cashton nudged Reveca with his shoulder. “I’ve got this.”

  Looking at Talon made her night seem too real. The shock factor was starting to fade.

  Talon had raw supremacy that waved off of his six foot four body. His sculpted arms were filled with tattoos of the Club’s symbols, and symbols that reflected the power within him. A phoenix rising from the flames of death was on his right arm—that was Reveca’s favorite.

  His dark eyes were nothing less than enigmatic. When his anger was elevated waves of flames could be seen within. Every feature on his face was sharp, dominant. His lips, the lush shape of them, outlined by his near constant five o’clock shadow, begged to be touched, used. His overall image, his body which was solid raw muscle, was so stoic that when he spoke, when you figured out he was approachable, laid back, it was simply hard to comprehend. Not many outside of their tight circle dared to try and speak with him.

  They had been in each other’s lives for ages, though neither of them could ever hope to mock the age of thirty. She had found him as a rebel soul, a soldier home from a war that he was still engaged within in his mind, a young man that had traversed every dark road there was.

  What they had between them back then was intense, a possessive passion that was full of fire.

  When a bullet pierced his heart one night after a bad deal, she had more than enough want to save him. More than enough to keep him in this corporeal world.

  It wasn’t love. If it were, they would not have parted ways time and time again. Granted their separations were never long, and right now they had managed to stay as one for decades, but still, it wasn’t that kind of love.

  It wasn’t the kind of love that landed Reveca in this life she lead in the first place. No, Talon may know her body better than Reveca herself, but he only knew the part of her soul that she chose to let him see. With her first love, it was the opposite. He seemed to read her soul so easily that you’d think it was his; they never had a chance to meet flesh to flesh so the impact of his touch was something that only lived in Reveca’s fantasies.

  Still. Looking up into Talon’s dark eyes, she found ease. A protective comfort. She rose from her knees, then moved past him. She knew if he touched her the well of emotions bubbling inside would surface, and though she trusted Cashton, she wasn’t prepared to look weak before him.

  Reveca made her way down the hall to the room they shared. She could hear the roaring music from outside. The party was well underway as planned. Her strides led her to the window where she pulled the thick velvet drapes aside. The rain was dying off, birthing a different kind of heat, the kind that sucked.

  The title of Beauregard Boneyard was fitting, not because it was full of human bones, but metal ones. Bones of old bikes, cars. It was set up as a legit business establishment.

  Six-foot brick walls surrounded the land; there was a fifteen-foot wide iron gate that would lead you to the business side of the property. A massive garage and lounge, from there you could follow the paths anywhere on the property—that is if you were brave enough to move through the maze of old parts that stretched for miles in one direction, or the houses that lingered near the swamp in the opposite.

  Sitting just back from the garage, surrounded by lush gardens, was Reveca’s home.

  It was a massive historic home that reached three stories high with wide wrap around porches. All of those that were in the life lived there and each had an abundance of space to call their own.

  The others, the mortals in the club, the prospects, and a few wolves, they stayed in the shotgun swamp houses on the property. It was an empire. One that bridged the living and the dead. One that Reveca ruled.

  Below, around the garage, she could see bikes parked, fire pits burning, girls dancing, and beers in each and every hand. Couples intoxicated with lust not caring that there was an audience.

  When she heard the door close, felt the weighted presence of Talon enter the room, she let the drape fall closed once more.

  “Tell me what happened,” he said in a deep gravelly voice.

  She turned to face him, saw those dark eyes filled with a mix of concern and anger. The anger wasn’t at her, not completely anyways.

  For months he’d tried to reach Reveca. He’d felt her slipping away, more so than the last few years. He’d seen it happen too many times to not know what was coming. Losing her again…he wasn’t ready for that to happen. But he knew this life was weighing on her. The constant fight for balance was exhausting, but at the same time, the fight was what she lived for.

  “Holden.”

  “What did he do?” Talon asked as he moved forward, every muscle in his broad, strong body flexed. Reveca let her eyes rush across him. In her mind she was hearing words that GranDee had spoken to Reveca in the past, ones that told her Talon was a good man, a strong leader, but not her man. GranDee didn’t tell Reveca that to encourage them to separate. No, quite the opposite. GranDee told Reveca that the pair of them needed each other. Such a tangled web we weave.

  “He killed her.”

  “Who? Who is that girl? What the hell is going on, Vec?”

  She swallowed the emotions she was fighting, felt her eyes glisten. “GranDee. He killed her, everyone at that house, in cold blood.”

  The curse that left his breath was expected. Him taking two broad steps toward her and pulling her into the cage of his arms was not. It wasn’t often that he paused long enough to weigh emotions. He’d lived too long. He knew they would be there as soon as he acted on what he felt.

  Reveca let herself melt into his arms, even let a stray tear emerge.

  “Where is he?” Talon asked as evenly as possible.

  “In the moss. Bike’s in the swamp.”

  “Did he touch you? Did he try?”

  Try was all that Holden could’ve done. Talon knew that, but he still wanted to know, wanted that information to fue
l the damage he was going to do to Holden.

  Reveca didn’t bother to answer the question as she edged back. “He admitted to working with the lawmen, but I think when I sealed him in the moss I hashed the memories over.”

  “Fuck his memories. We already know what went down. How the fuck did he even know who she was?” Talon asked with his steady gaze locked on Reveca.

  “I don’t know,” she said glancing away, the exhaustion apparent in her gray eyes which had dimmed. “Were you ticketed tonight?”

  “I wasn’t but the boys were.”

  “But they saw you there, right? The lawmen saw you.”

  “Yeah, they saw me stop Thrash from breaking their face. Who is this girl?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve seen GranDee at least once a week for some time now, and I’ve never seen her. But she had the vial I gave GranDee. She was the one that summoned me there.”

  “Do what?” he asked as his eyes narrowed in disbelief.

  “She’s some kind of prodigy of hers, or was.” Reveca reached in her back pocket for the cards she’d taken from the table and walked them to the chest on her dresser. “I know it looks like I used magic without reason, but the signs were there,” she said as she placed the cards and Holden’s gun within the chest and sealed it with a muttered phrase.

  “And you’re sure those signs were not set up?”

  Reveca hesitated as she closed the lid on the chest. No. She wasn’t. Internally she cursed herself. Her not taking in energy was the same as a human going without food. The near starvation and emotion of this night could have very well altered the way she saw the signs. If she were to be honest with herself she’d have to admit that.

  In the past, they had crossed more than a few twisted souls that had mocked signs, played a part to earn their way back into life, the kind of life Reveca’s magic could give them.

  Daily the Sons were at war with not only those souls, but the everyday human ones that challenged them for territory among other things. Beyond those two wars, there were constant alliances being built or destroyed within both the living and dead worlds.