Risen Lovers: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 4) Page 5

  Thick raindrops started to pelt down at that instant.

  They weren’t the only ones that heard those shots. Everyone outside had either ducked or was looking around thinking it was some car backfiring and echoing across the buildings. One of the mounted lawmen started to stroll in the direction of the alley, but he was a good two and a half blocks away, having to move through a crowd that thought dancing in the rain was a stellar idea.

  Panic: Judge owned the emotion as he rushed down the alley, only halfway using the all but natural tactical skill he had.

  He took one step in Adair’s and found himself in a hell that had haunted him for years. Adair was collapsing to the floor, letting her nails run down Talley’s chest as she did so, and he was yelling, “Tell me where the fuck she is!”

  “Back off, fucker,” Judge said as he aimed his gun at Talley’s back, as Judge’s energy assaulted him, crushing him from the inside out.

  A sinister grin was on Talley’s face as he turned. “You better back the fuck off, boy.”

  Thames showed up just then. “Holy mother fucker,” he said as he looked over Talley.

  They had not only buried Talley but also burned him to ash before they did. They only left his favorite jeans, his kut and weapon with his remains, a standard for any Son.

  “Tell me where the fuck she is!” Talley roared.

  Adair started to move and whisper words with her eyes closed, but she was saying something and whatever it was assaulted Talley. He covered his ears, then tripped over Mystic who was determined to rip his legs off as he charged through the front of the store.

  Judge gave Adair a waning glance, one that showed the guilt he felt for being too late once more, then yelled at Thames. “Get fucking help now!”

  “Where the fuck are you going?”

  “To put him back in the grave,” Judge growled as he all but vanished because he was moving so fast.

  He tried to tell himself this was nothing more than some fucked up Zen dream, and he needed to wake up.

  The lie would not take hold as he ran through the broken storefront window and chased Talley down the street only to turn down another.

  Chapter Three

  Judge wanted to lay every bullet he had on him into Talley, but the last thing he needed was the attention of the humans around him that were either ducking for cover or enjoying the summer storm. Instead, he kept assaulting him with his energy as the two of them ran through the pouring sheets of rain, the flashes of light, and the rumbling thunder. To the ones they passed on the streets they were nothing more than some haunting dark mass that whipped by them.

  Talley would tense every other time that Judge struck him with his energy but never slowed down. Judge started moving things into his path, trashcans, cars, in one case a man. Talley charged on then ran down an alley that was five blocks from where they started this marathon of death.

  Before Talley could reach the end of the alley Judge sent his energy soaring toward the other end sliding the dumpster in his path.

  Then Judge aimed his gun. “We really gonna do this again, Talley?” Judge asked, not even out of breath.

  Talley stopped as if he’d noticed Judge for the first time, and looked over his shoulder. As he turned, a lethal gaze came to his dark eyes that were flinching ever so slightly. “You fucking shot me.”

  Judge smirked. “That I did, son. You tried to rape my girl.”

  A sick laugh game from Talley as he licked his lips. “Had me a taste of that. Nice and wet. I think fear gets her off.”

  Judge calmly holstered his gun, then started to prowl closer. The voice wasn’t Talley’s. Whoever this fuck was, though, it was clear he was immortal. From where Judge was he could see that Adair got a shot off, dead in his heart.

  “You’re gonna need that,” Talley said, darkly nodding to Judge’s weapon.

  Judge sent his energy behind him, sliding the other dumpster in place to completely block Talley in this cage with him.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Judge asked with a snarl.

  “Your worst nightmare. Where the fuck is Finley?”

  “You should know that,” Judge said as he stalked closer. “You slit her throat, wide open, nearly took her head off.”

  Talley flinched, but only marginally. Now that Judge was closer he could see what looked like silver waves washing over his golden eyes.

  “You looked into her eyes, the only fucking woman that could deal with your fucked beast, and slit her throat, then went to rape the girl you helped raise as she drowned in her own blood next to you.”

  Talley trembled. That was rage; Judge had seen him fight it too often not to recognize it. Out of all the lyke he had the hardest time with his beast, it was too closely connected to his emotions, to his fiery temper.

  “You’re lying,” Talley said. He shook his head then roared as his glare returned. “That’s right! I fucking did that, I fucked her as I killed her, too. Your girl got off on that—wanted some.” He licked his lips. “A tight little cunt, that’s what she had, wanted me to wear it out.”

  Judge furrowed his brow, trying to gauge the enemy before him that was clearly more than one person.

  “It’s time to go back to the grave,” Judge said, finally. No matter what, Talley and company had fucked over Judge in more ways than one and he was about to lay down his justifiable karma.

  Judge threw a right hook at Talley’s jaw. He swayed back but that was it—Talley fired back a punch. After Judge hit him with not only his fist but also his energy, he flung Talley to the wall. All of that was harder than it should be. Talley was strong when he was alive, but Judge had faced off with him more than once for the hell of it. All the Sons had fought with him, for play. It was how they exhausted his beast when it got the best of Talley.

  Judge and Talon were the best at it, Thrash a close third. Judge, even though he was a bit leaner, was faster, and he could always see where Talley was going to aim and would move before he struck. He couldn’t see shit tonight, just like the last time he had killed him. It was a black abyss with haunting echoes of what looked like wraiths. What was Talley was deep inside and something else that was down right evil was large and in charge.

  Apparently, the evil had added strength to Talley because right when Judge started to squeeze the hell out of him with his energy Talley roared and pushed forward, knocking Judge to the ground. Talley was on top of him in an instant, throwing punch after punch.

  Judge moved his head just in time, more than once, causing Talley to slam his fist into the pavement. Judge kicked him in the balls and threw him off, then he was in the position to lay punch after punch into Talley. A second later Talley flung Judge back, sending him sailing into the wall, hard enough that bricks fell all around him.

  “I got this shit,” Judge heard Thames say. Out of the corner of his eye Judge saw Thames on top of the dumpster making his way down.

  Before he hit the ground, before Judge could stand and tell Thames to fuck off, this was his kill, someone else appeared in the alley.

  Tall, built, near white hair—violet eyes that nearly glowed. He was the one that picked Talley up by the neck. Talley fought him but the man that Judge knew, didn’t waver, instead charged forward, slamming Talley into the opposite wall, only for the pair of them to vanish, not instantly, but in shattering gray pieces.

  Judge stood in one fluid motion, his light blue eyes wide as he stared at the wall.

  “That wasn’t—” Thames started to say.

  “It was,” Judge said in his deep baritone voice.

  The rain began to taper off, as if its only purpose was to hide the brutal battle.

  Thames reached in his kut, pulled out another blunt and lit it up, breathed in deeply and passed it to Judge, who took it without thought. Right then he was going through all the darkness he’d seen in Talley’s mind as he fought him, what he had seen years ago, and it was moving too fast. He needed a slow down.

  “Okay,” Thames said. “How in the fu
ck is a Son that we laid down back? And more importantly what the fuck does Miah have to do with this? He doesn’t have dog in this fight. He was long dead before this shit stirred up.”

  Jeremiah. A Rouge. A dead Rouge. Miah’s history with the Sons was deep, dark, and twisted, and ended much the same.

  At one time he was a human orphan, one Evanthe found just as he’d left childhood and was on the wicked journey to manhood. Zale and Evanthe had been on one of the many peace cycles of their life, where they lived side by side. Miah was twenty-one when he became immortal—he’d died defending none other that Zale himself. It was Talon who delivered the blow to Zale that Miah intercepted.

  Reveca didn’t bring Miah back—she wasn’t on that side of the globe at the time—Zale did.

  Evanthe pleaded with Reveca to have mercy, to understand if there was any hope of Reveca saving Miah she would have called for her, those far from modern times made Zale the only option.

  Evanthe pleaded with a mother’s heart and Reveca had mercy.

  Years later, when the time of peace between Evanthe and Zale ceased—and Miah followed Zale in another vector of the world—the mercy perished.

  Reveca told Evanthe, after Miah had been accused of slaying the innocent who stood with the Sons, that his death was promised if he did not surrender to her immediately. Reveca swore if Miah repented, if he sought help for his out of control cravings to feed and torture mortal souls, she would allow him to live.

  It was cold ploy on Reveca’s part, but back then cold was the only way to fight. Reveca knew Evanthe, trusting her, would go to Miah and plead for him to obey.

  The Sons followed Evanthe with Reveca at their side. The plan was to attack immediately, but Reveca halted them. The act stirred internal conflict. It made the Sons think she was more of a witch than one of them. Reveca only wavered for a day’s time. When she and the Sons did engage, they found the castle Zale was living in destroyed—both Evanthe and Zale long gone—and the remains of Miah.

  No one ever knew what really happened—who laid Miah down. Even when Evanthe emerged years later, making her distant acquaintance with the Dominarum coven, and with the Sons, she didn’t speak of it.

  Reveca had said to let it be. Miah’s demise was the point, and the point was vehemently handled. It mattered not that it wasn’t by their hand.

  Not many—if any—of the Sons agreed with her notion but let is slip back into their minds where all the other fucked shit that made no sense resided.

  Right then it was hard to know who to be more pissed at—who to rush to defend. Both Miah and Talley had flipped on the Sons in some way. All Judge knew was they both had to be laid down again for if they weren’t, all hell was about to break loose in the mortal world.

  Zale’s backlash had arrived. It was the only explanation Judge could muster, but he still didn’t understand the how or why of it.

  “Is this like some fucked zombie shit?” Thames asked, taking another hit.

  “Miah did have a tiff with Talley,” Judge said after a minute. “Remember?”

  “That was bullshit over some piece of ass neither one of them gave a damn about—and it was over as soon as it started. Hell, Talley was the only one that had Reveca’s back when she told us to hold back. The point is they’re both dead fuckers and have no business being back. Where the fuck did Miah take him? What was that scattering gray energy?”

  Judge didn’t know, didn’t care to debate it. He only had one concern just then.

  “Where’s Adair?” Judge asked as reality slammed into him.

  Thames ticked his head back right as the sound of an ambulance roared by in the distance.

  Judge went to take off in a run; Thames put his hand on his chest as he exhaled. “Voice of reason, though I should keep my fucking mouth shut—trauma rocks the memory blocks I put in heads. You show up in her face and you’re going to trigger memories. I’m not putting them back up again. You’ve been a royal fucking ass for the past five years. You make that choice, right now.”

  “How hurt is she?” Judge asked with a hard pained expression on his face.

  “Does it fucking matter?” Thames asked, glancing over him.

  Judge shoved him. “Answer me.”

  “Knocked out. She was coming ‘round though before help got there.”

  Judge rushed his hand through his blond hair not sure what to do.

  “She’s going to be fine, survived this. But we don’t know what the fuck is going on so it might be best she knows where she belongs all at once again,” Thames encouraged. He already knew that the blocks in Adair’s mind were barely holding on. He’d seen that. At best he was trying to warn Judge that the jig was up—the girl was coming home.

  “You call Reveca?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And?” Judge asked, losing patience with Thames’s calm outlook on this night.

  “And she didn’t fucking answer.” He lifted his brow. “She must be out of range again.”

  “What ‘bout Talon?”

  Thames shook his head. Talon had been on the road more than off since that last showdown. His excuse was that he was checking on how well Scorpio and the others were handling the script business, but they all knew he had other reasons. Ones that everyone, including Reveca, were trying to avoid.

  “I moved the bikes. The shop is swarming with lawmen, murder scene now,” Thames said. He smirked. “Our buddy Mathis was lurking over there.”

  “They see you?”

  “I’m a fucking ninja, unlike your big ass that ran out the front window of a shop knocking shit over—since when do you fling people as weapons?”

  “When I have a fucking good reason,” Judge said ominously as he moved past Thames, flinging the dumpster out his way with a wayward thought.

  He wasn’t chasing the ambulance, not if she was okay. He needed her far away from this hell. He needed to talk to Reveca.

  “This way, boss,” Thames said when he emerged at his side. Once they reached where Thames had hidden their bikes far from the crime scene, he started to laugh. “You ain’t fooling that bitch.”

  Judge reached for his face and let his hand run slowly down it as he stared at Mystic. He could still remember buying that pup for Adair. They had taken a long ride out to the middle of nowhere, came across a sign saying they were for sale—she begged him to turn in and was determined to count her pennies to buy her.

  Judge teased her, told her she was supposed have a black cat not a black dog, even told her that breed needed room to run, to do the job that was bred into them. That day she didn’t have the cash so they drove away empty handed. The next day though, Adair woke up to that same pup licking her face.

  Over the last few years Mystic would always spot him when he drove by to check on Adair, which is why he had a stash of treats in his saddlebag, to bribe her to go back to her momma. He’d always tell her, “You go be a good guard dog, keep your momma safe,” then he’d drive away, seeing Mystic cock her head to the side, obediently sitting on the curb watching him leave.

  “You’re too big to do this now,” Judge said, looking over her as she sat perched on his seat.

  Thames laughed when Judge sat behind her on his bike, caging her in with his thick arms.

  “That brings new meaning to riding bitch.”

  “You think you’re fucking hilarious don’t you?” Judge said as he roared his bike to life. Mystic didn’t even to flinch, she only leaned back and licked his jaw before staring forward.

  Thames nearly fell off his bike because he was laughing so hard. “Hope the lot is fucking full when we get back, that every one of them see this shit, take pictures. Fucking priceless.”

  ***

  Reveca was standing with her arms crossed before Evanthe’s ten thousand square foot Victorian home, which was carefully nestled in the middle of the swampy woods. It blended well for the most part, the tan brick and dark shutters along with accents of gray made it vanish at a distance. Most times you didn’t see it u
ntil you were upon it, there was no real driveway, just a dirt path that lead to it.

  She had been silently arguing with Jamison for hours now, meaning he kept circling the home at a slow prowl, checking Reveca and figuring out she was not bullshitting. This was going to happen one or way or another, and it would behoove him to help her, otherwise she’d squarely blame him when they finally did get Evanthe out of the pages and she found her ages-old home was nothing more than a pile of rubble.

  It’s not like this was the first time Evanthe or Reveca had done this. Neither one of them were much for change, but sometimes you had no choice.

  “This is an ostentatious move,” Jamison said, as he emerged at her side once more. He now had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, his tie was loose, and it looked like he had rushed his hand through is dark blond hair a time or two.

  “No, it’s not. How many times have we moved it before?”

  “That’s half my point. Do you think it will survive another time? Do you even have a foundation laid? Plumbing, electrical—”

  “You have already circled this house ten times over, you know I broke every protection spell she had on it. Would I go through that trouble if I didn’t have a fucking foundation?”

  Jamison met her stare. “Why do you want to move it? Why can’t it stay here?”

  “The Boneyard is my home.”

  “And if I recall you have a home at your home.”

  Reveca sucked in a sharp, furious breath. She did have a home. And in that home she had lived side by side with Talon. Every room, most especially hers, had his mark on it.

  She wanted her own space. She needed to get her head clear, and this solved more than one issue.

  Reveca was sick of fighting with Talon, didn’t really care for the fact that the man was all but banished to a swamp house, that is, when he was home.

  She was sick of fighting with King. Yep. He was downright pissed at her for laying a spell on him and sending him away. Pissed enough that he refused to tell her why he came back, why the fuck Windsome put her through that only for him to be back not even three days later.

  It was all sly words and wit with him. And it was killing her. The sexual tension between them before she laid the spell down was unbearable; afterward it was fucking criminal.