{ Triple Infinity }

 

They were born with extraordinary powers, Panthenites and Malefics.

 

And then man made them into gods.

 

Time passed, as did their favor as gods.

 

But they never disappeared. They never lost their powers.

 

And occasionally, a flame moon would befall, and they were asked to prove their worth on earth, once again.

 

 

{ Prologue }

 

The knock came on the door.

Aiden had only left an hour ago. After he had stopped by Hotel Auric to speak with the elders, he had come right to her. To warn her.

He had honestly answered their questions about the engagement ceasing to exist — it was over. And as much as Charlotte twinged at the loss of her security net, she knew that the twenty-plus year engagement had to end at some point.

Charlotte picked up an orange from the quartz counter in her kitchen, and began to peel it.

Besides, Aiden was so clearly different since Skye had come to town. He had purpose. Triaten had recognized it right away in him. He was falling in love with her. And good for him. He needed the peace that love could provide. She had been blessed with it once, and it had changed her forever.

She wished nothing less for her friend.

A second knock burst through her thoughts. They weren’t going away. Ignoring them wasn’t going to work. Charlotte was actually surprised it had taken them this long to show at her door.

She walked out of her kitchen, through her living room, and opened the door, half-peeled orange in her hand. Helen stood there, an errant hair from her silver bob blowing straight up in the wind. The elder smoothed it down and looked down her nose at Charlotte, even though Charlotte stood a good half-head taller.

“Yes, Helen?”

“We have just spoken to Aiden. The engagement is off?”

“Yes.”

Helen harrumphed. “Disappointing.”

“Are you just here to verify, Helen?”

“No. Since Aiden is no longer an option, we have five appropriate males ready, willing.”

Charlotte closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the spring air, trying to ignore the cracking of her soul. She pulled herself tall, and opened her eyes to Helen. “It has been an hour, Helen, and you already have five?”

She looked down at her orange, and started to peel it again.

“We can arrange to have this done quickly. They can be here in the morning and then you can choose.”

Charlotte didn’t look up from her orange. Slowly, she dug her thumb under the skin, stalling as she unfurled the outer layer.

Her eyes stayed down when she finally spoke. “It is not yet time.”

“The choice is a luxury we’ve bestowed on you, Charlotte.” Helen’s voice pinched. “Don’t make us take away that choice. Your time will soon become short.”

Charlotte looked up at her sharply. “Goodbye, Helen.”

She grabbed the door and shut it in Helen’s face.

Turning, Charlotte leaned her back against the door, and the orange dropped from her hand. Crushing. The failure on her shoulders crushed. She had always needed to be something more. Had worked every waking minute in her life for that. To prove her worth beyond what they had determined for her.

Her hand slipped to the back of her neck, caressing the bumps. The reminders.

It was all she would ever be to them.

A womb. Nothing more.

 

 

{ Chapter 1 }

 

Two days and one time shift before the flame moon...

 

It was too much.

Now the damn soap packet was beating her. Charlotte had been struggling for five minutes, and with no mercy, the soap slipped an eighth time from her fingers into the cracked motel sink.

Blood and puss had put a slime so thick onto the plastic, the little piece of terror was impossible to open.

She plucked it out from its dance under the running water, steam boiling onto her fingers. Her red-encrusted nails tweezed the edges of the plastic. Tearing. Slipping. Not making any progress.

“Bastard,” she hissed under her breath, seething through her exhaustion, “who the hell makes these things?”

She ran her hands and the soap packet under the boiling water. But the extra water just made the bloody mess on her hands more impossible, and the plastic-wrapped oval slipped from her hands, taunting her.

Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop the sudden sway of her body as images from an hour ago flashed, intruding and unwanted, through her mind. Flashes of silver sinking into Aiden. Blades slicing Triaten’s skin.

The sounds of cutting flesh reverberated in her ears. As a healer, it was amplified for her, that singular squishy sound of a blade tearing through muscle. She had become so efficient at killing, because it was usually the only sound she could hear in battle. She abhorred the sound. And wanted it over as quickly as possible.

She tried to force them out, but the memory of the sounds pierced through her brain. Aiden and Triaten’s were the worst. In the last hundred years of fighting together, she had never told either of them that the sound of their tearing flesh was so potent. Above all others, theirs was agony in her ears. Not that telling them would help — what could they do? Figure out a way to silently cut and kill Malefics? Wasn’t going happen. They could, however, try to limit the amount of blades sinking into their own bodies. That, they could do. Maybe she should tell them to work on that.

The image of the blade that almost nicked Aiden’s heart tonight, the steel burying into his chest, hit Charlotte again, taking her back to that instant. And the gut punch that accompanied it.

She grabbed the faucet, attaching herself to something solid before she fell over. The blade in Aiden’s chest hadn’t slowed his rampage against the Malefics in the slightest, but the sight of it had frozen Charlotte in the thick of the battle. She was fortunate Triaten had her back, as he always did, for a Malefic blade had been coming down on her own head in that moment.

“Dammit all —” she slammed her fist into the bathroom wall, cracking a dirty tile. Two ceramic pieces fell, crashing onto the vanity.

The outburst was vicious, and over in an instant. She took a deep breath. She hated the flashes of weakness in herself. She hated that Aiden was trying to kill himself. She hated that she and Triaten couldn’t make him stop. She hated that the three of them were being sucked into this vortex of no control.

Her arm went to her mouth to muffle a choke, and she fought the urge to crumple up into a ball on the floor. Lungs heaving, she threw her arms out wide and grasped the dirty edge of the vanity, leaning over the sink. She stared down at the steaming water, unopened soap packet still bobbing under the rush in the collecting pool.

“Charlotte, what’s going on?” Triaten appeared in the bathroom only seconds after she smashed the tile, muscles taut and posed for battle, regardless that he was just wearing boxers.

“I thought you were asleep.” She didn’t look up at him, just nodded her head at the swimming soap packet.

Triaten plucked it out of the water. “Tricky little buggers.” He gripped it in his teeth and pulled the plastic open, paying no mind to the bloody muck touching his mouth. He held the soap out to her and leaned against the counter, watching her carefully. “Now, what’s really up?”

Charlotte grabbed the soap from him without meeting his eyes. Nor did she reply. She set about to scrubbing the layers of blood from her hands. Blood — Aiden’s, Triaten’s, hers, too many Malefic’s to count — the blood all looked the same. And it was all on her hands.

It only took moments for the scrubbing to turn manic. “God, Tri — I don’t even know whose blood is on my hands anymore.”

She could feel him studying her, as the muscles in her arms flexed and shook with the force of the cleaning. Tiny droplets of red-tinged water flew, landing on her bare thighs, just below her black underwear. He was silent.

“It’s just all turning so badly. We were all good...peaceful...the three of us, the elders, even with Skye coming. And now it’s just...all gone so horrible.” Her words petered out, exhausted, except for the frenzied jerking of her arms that added a clip to her voice. “I thought — hell — I don’t know how many times tonight at that warehouse I thought I almost lost you or Aiden. It’s too much.”

“We’re fine –”

“Barely.” She looked up with a sharp glare.

“Which is what counts.” Triaten crossed his arms across his broad chest, wounds from the day, sliced skin and bruised muscles, still evident.

"Triaten, there were nineteen in the warehouse tonight — nineteen. Malefics never used to converge like that.” Her bottom lip curled out as she blew a strand of hair off her eyelashes. “Sure, three or four together — tops. Something is really wrong — they're hanging out in larger and larger groups, something is wrong with the balance. With how they operate.”

Triaten shrugged. “Maybe. But we caused this mess — with Aiden and Skye — we turned her over to the Malefics. And we got her back damaged.”

“We didn’t know we wouldn’t be able to find her, and save her right away.” Hair fell back down into her eyes.

Triaten’s jaw set hard. “We should have. It was a mistake, and Aiden was right, it was a stupid plan. And now we have to clean it up as best we can. And that means keeping him alive.”

Charlotte tried to brush the offending piece of blond hair from her eye, with the one dry spot on her right bicep. “I know,” she said, disgusted, but resigned. “I still can’t believe we let Skye convince us to give her to them. Of all the idiotic plans we’ve set forth, that was gold medal.”

The hair stayed up for a moment, and then fell in front of her eye again. She blew at it, frustrated, and her voice reflected it. “And now look at us. She left him, and we’re stuck just trying to keep Aiden alive. And I’m pretty sure he could care less how that turns out. Or even if he takes us down with him. It’s like he doesn’t even see us or hear us. Only as far as we help him kill.”

She stopped scrubbing. Her arms were clean, but her fingers were still tinted red. She forced them under the steaming water, and her chin went to her chest, trying to hold in the swelling panic. Her arm jerked up to move the nagging hair again.

“It’s the killing, then?” Triaten asked softly.

Charlotte didn’t look up, she couldn’t if she was going to hold onto her last shred of control. She exhaled the words, “I haven’t killed in so long, Tri. Not until…Mary.”

Mary’s kill had been haunting her. Not the fact Charlotte had sunk a blade into her evil heart. No, Mary deserved to die. What haunted Charlotte was that she hadn’t taken a minute, not even a moment, to demand answers from Mary. How did Mary kill Thomas? Was it quick? Did he say anything? Did he even realize Mary was betraying him? Charlotte slipped into the black pit of berating herself — if she had only stopped before killing Mary. Stopped to ask. Thomas deserved more, and now he was constantly in her mind again.

Head still down, Charlotte could feel Triaten move behind her in the cramped space. He began to pull her blond hair back, gently grabbing all of the offending strands around her forehead and securing them into a crisp ponytail. He wrapped the hair with the elastic binder that had been teetering on the edge of the sink.

Her breathing slowed, and she was halfway to calm again when she glanced at Triaten in the grungy mirror. This wasn’t the cleanest motel, but it was available and discreet, as most of its hourly clientele demanded. She stopped and watched him for a moment, struck by the tenderness with which he gathered her hair — a juxtaposition of his hard muscles and large hands.

His eyes caught hers in the reflection. “I wish I could make this easier for you, Char.”

“If only we knew where Skye was — if she could see what her leaving has done to Aiden. I can’t believe she’d want this for him, broken soul or not.”

Triaten’s eyes shifted downward as he shrugged. He set his hands on her shoulders. “Aiden will get to a point where he stops — he has to. He can’t keep up this pace forever, and he’s going to run out of handy Malefics to kill.”

“But not before he starts a war,” she said, digging out the blood from under her fingernails. “You saw who he’s killed. And he’s getting worse and worse in his rage — and harder and harder to heal,” she nodded her head to the adjoining motel room. Aiden was recovering in there from a horrific set of blade wounds she had healed only minutes ago.

“I thought once he killed a couple Malefics, he’d get it out of his system, but his rampage has only exploded — he’s not going to stop. He’s not going to stop until someone stops him.” Charlotte shut off the water and turned to face Triaten in the tight quarters, her backside against the sink counter. Triaten’s arms went down to his sides.

The slump in her shoulders echoed the weariness in her face, her blue eyes, every muscle in her body. Water dripped down from her fingertips. Her eyes crawled up to Triaten. “It’s all just slipping out of control…all that we had...the three of us were all so...right, before Skye came. Life was so even...and now this...”

Her breathing became rapid again, and Triaten’s wide chest, inches from her, beckoned her. She let herself crumple into him. His arms went about her immediately, holding her against cracking.

Triaten stroked the ponytail on her neck. “I know, Char. We’ll get it all back. We just have to stay...” he paused for a long while, “...steady.”

Charlotte’s still wet hands slid up his chest. They stumbled in their rise, sliding over several deep gashes in his skin. “Tri, I should heal these.”

She began to pull back, but Triaten’s arms kept her cheek on his skin. “No, Char. I’ll be fine. They’re already healing.”

She turned her head, resting her forehead over his heart. She talked into his chest, voice soft. “This is so hard, and I can’t get out of my mind — I don’t — god, I just don’t know how. I just I need something to hold onto...something to ground me in the good with all this death.”

Triaten’s heart pulsed, solid and even under her skin. Solid and even, just as he always was. There wasn’t a lot in life that could make Triaten’s pulse quicken.

Her eyes travelled upward to him, pleading, desperate. There was no control over the words that came out of her mouth. “Just give me something to hold onto, Tri. Please?”

 

~~~

 

Somehow, the hands under his boxers didn’t surprise Triaten. Nor did Charlotte’s lips suddenly trailing up his bare chest, finding their way to his mouth. He didn’t fight her. Didn’t step away. Even though he knew he should.

This was Charlotte. And he was going to give her anything she needed. He always had.

His arms went slowly around her body, tentative in their strength. He wondered when the moment would come that she pulled away, good sense back about her. He waited, her lips on his, but she didn’t pause, didn’t waver. And then, to Triaten’s alarm, she grabbed him fully under his boxers, and pushed the fabric down. Her other hand slid up and around his neck, dragging him down into her. There was none of the earlier weariness in her grip.

Her feet started to move, turning and backing the both of them out of the bathroom, and into the small floor space in front of the flower-clad bed. Her lips were on his neck, assaulting his hard muscles, along with the damage and bruising that hadn’t had time to heal. God it felt good. Lips of an angel on his skin. Stopping wasn’t going to be an option in a moment.

He’d known Charlotte for more than a hundred years, had slept in the same bed, shared life, soul, laughter, and tears, but they had never — not this. For the thousands of times he had held her, it was never like this. Never on the verge of what was about to happen.

If he let it.

Triaten didn’t step away from her, but did straighten, arms loosening off her body. His voice came out low, almost a whisper. “Char, we shouldn’t.”

Charlotte looked up at him, commanding in her softest voice, a voice she usually reserved for the dying. “Just give me this, Tri. Without thinking. By either of us. Please. Just give it to me.”

Triaten wasn’t going to ask again. When his arms went around her this time, he meant it. His hand slipped under her ponytail, carving around her neck, demanding her head meet his as he descended on her, taking her mouth fully onto his. His left hand slid down her back, then pulled her tight blue tank upward, their lips only breaking for it to slip over her head.

She backed up, her calves hitting the bed, and went down, back arched, pulling Triaten with her. Her left leg slipped up about his waist, clasping his body hard into hers. He buried his head in her neck with the arch, taking full advantage of skin open to him. The antiseptic smell of the cheap soap on Charlotte’s arms warred with the true essence of her, sweet and salty. A set of moans, soft but begging in intensity, escaped from deep in her chest, vibrating under his mouth.

Triaten had only moments to enjoy the pleasure, the taste of her skin, still salt-laden from the earlier battle, before Charlotte flipped over onto him. She pushed him down, holding his chest to the bed as she brought herself upright, straddling him.

Triaten’s hands trailed up from her hips, pausing at every beautiful curve, holding, caressing each inch in his palms. His right hand ended at her chest, and under his fingers, Triaten could feel the pounding, the ache in Charlotte’s soul. It gave him pause, but only for a moment, as Charlotte, strong thighs clasped on either side of his waist, eased herself slowly onto him. The tight lingering of her body closing in around him was excruciating.

There was no going back.

Her eyes closed as her head tilted back, reveling in the motion she set forth. Triaten deep within her. He watched her body move, up and down, sucking every bit of pleasure she could from the friction. Her movements hypnotized — elegant and smooth, her long muscles straining, her body curving.

Charlotte’s mouth fell open in gasps, her chest heaving as she quicken the pace on Triaten, her head still back with her eyes shut tight. Triaten wondered in a flash of clarity if she even knew he was under her. In her. But then her throaty cries of satisfaction filtered through the pounding in his ears, and he could do nothing except let his own body release into hers.

Triaten’s body vibrated in satisfied agony as Charlotte collapsed onto him. She still had not looked at, or acknowledged him. Instead, she buried her head deep into his neck. Her hot breath, still uneven, moistened the skin behind his ear. Triaten didn’t move, didn’t speak. His brain had clicked back in before the final throes had reverberated past. And he was unnerved. He wasn’t sure what this was. How to react, or how Charlotte would react.

But he didn’t need to wonder. Didn’t need to come up with a plan. Her body went limp with sleep on him as soon as her breath steadied.

Hours later, Triaten sat in the dark, the skin on his back stuck to the vinyl-covered chair in the hot room. Only a trickle of air managed to come in through the air conditioner, and barely cold at that. But he didn’t even note the suffocation around him. He was staring at the lump in the bed and still trying to place what the hell just happened.

It was wrong.

Every bit of it had been wrong.

Triaten’s eyes moved over Charlotte, still out cold, having not even rustled when he rolled her off his chest two hours ago. He had pulled a sheet up over her, and she hadn’t moved since.

Charlotte was obviously fine with what had just happened between the two of them, but Triaten was not. Sex was always just sex for him, but the sex that Triaten had just had was unprecedented. Unprecedented because he had never before had a woman so clearly disregard his presence during the action. Charlotte may have had his dick in her, but she was nowhere near him. In body, yes. In mind or heart, no.

Used was the word for it. He had been used. The second he had entered her, she had left in mind, and just used him for release. And he didn’t know what the hell that meant. If it meant anything at all.

Now it wasn’t just Aiden out of control. He and Charlotte had just embarked into mayhem of a different kind, without anywhere solid to land their feet. He wasn't even sure how to deal with Charlotte now. Not after everything had just changed.

Triaten cringed with the knowledge that he hadn’t made anything any better for Charlotte. And he wondered if he had been selfish for dragging Charlotte along after Aiden in the first place. No matter — they had a responsibility to Aiden’s current state of mind that Triaten was determined to fulfill.

He hoped Horace got to Skye soon. He had almost let it slip to Charlotte that he knew where Skye was, and that he had sent Horace after her — but if it didn’t work, killed hope would be hard on Charlotte, and Triaten needed her strong. He couldn’t save Aiden from himself, alone. Horace was his only hope at the moment, and he knew he was getting to the end of the favors the elders would allow him.

Charlotte’s arm suddenly flew up over her head. “Thomas…Triaten…I’m sorry…Make it stop…”

Triaten winced. She was talking in her sleep. Ever since they were little, she had done it. And Triaten knew her subconscious spoke of things she would never say conscious. Thomas.

Triaten’s head fell back onto the grimy chair, but his eyes didn’t leave Charlotte’s form. Damn his mind. It was his job to think, to work through every possible angle. It was what he had been trained to do. He excelled at it. And it was getting in the way of crawling back into bed, and laying down next to his naked, exquisite, best friend.

His other best friend took that moment to enter the room through the door from the adjoining motel room. Aiden stepped into the darkness, fully dressed in black. He scanned the room, Triaten in boxers in a corner, Charlotte asleep, no top visible above the sheet. If he noticed anything, he made no mention. Triaten guessed Aiden would notice very little, his mind was laser-focused into killing Malefics, and as many as possible.

Aiden took a few steps in, standing in front of Triaten. “I have a line on where that one Malefic that got away earlier from the warehouse is at. I’m headed out.” His voice dropped down a notch in deference to Charlotte’s sleeping.

Triaten stifled a sigh. He had hoped for at least another couple hours before Aiden’s injuries healed enough for him to be walking. “Your wounds ready for it?” he whispered. “That last blade was pretty deep. Is this guy going anywhere? Do we need to do it now?”

Aiden looked over at his shoulder at Charlotte’s still form, and then back down at Triaten. “Coming or staying.”

It wasn’t really a question, more of a statement, and Triaten knew that meant Aiden was leaving now, dammed if he had back-up or not. Triaten stood. “Coming.”

Aiden nodded to the bed. “Charlotte?”

“Leave her be.” Triaten walked to the corner of the room and grabbed his shirt. Gaping rips were still in it from the last battle, but he threw it over his head. “I’ll leave my jeep for her, if she wakes up. She can track us on GPS if she needs to.”

Aiden was out the door before Triaten had his pants and shoes on, and a blast of sticky, summer-night air filled the room behind him. On the table next to him, Triaten quietly moved Charlotte’s sword off of his own, and grabbed the handle of his blade and two of the daggers next to it. He sheathed one dagger at his waist, and put the other next to Charlotte’s head on the pillow. He followed Aiden out the door, not looking back at the still motionless Charlotte.

 

 

{ Chapter 2 }

 

The flame moon was on fire above them. Triaten, Charlotte, Aiden, and Skye had just exited Hotel Auric. Horace had done what he had promised — found Skye at the top of the mountain and convinced her to turn back time. She had shifted time just as Aiden had raised his sword to slice the head off the Malefic that had escaped the blade earlier.

Watching Skye get onto the back of Aiden’s bike, Triaten marveled again at her power. She had erased more than a month and half of time. Disintegrated the past into nothingness.

They had all known her power was coveted by both the Panthenites and Malefics, but no one had guessed it was so substantial. Sure, five or ten minutes here and there, even going back an hour was impressive — but a month and half? It raised the question about how far she could actually send back time. Was there a limit? Triaten knew instinctively that the evolution and implications of her power were going to be fascinating, and dangerous.

Triaten glanced over his shoulder at the hotel, silently contemplating the elders inside. He hoped he had bought enough time with Horace for Aiden to train Skye. The elder Panthenites would want more out of them — want Skye’s power at their disposal — that, he was sure of. It was just a matter of when. Triaten knew Aiden needed more time with Skye to get her combat-ready. She was still too vulnerable, too weak.

Sure, she had done well against Mary. Staying alive was her first victory. But Mary was a half-breed. And a small one, at that. Skye had no clue what combat with a Malefic would really be like.

Charlotte’s shiver brought his attention back to the street. Her eyes were fixated on the blazing moon above them. He had her shoulders firmly under his arm, having drawn her in the second they saw the sky, but he knew it did little good in easing the terror running through her. She was always going to react this way to a flame moon. And rightfully so.

Aiden started his bike, and with in-sync waves from Aiden and Skye, they were off on up the street, back up the mountain. Skye melded into Aiden’s back, and in the dark, it was hard to tell where one body ended and the other began. The time spent, then lost in the time shift, had righted most of what was wrong between the two. But Triaten could only momentarily pat himself on the back for his part in reuniting the two, because in that same time frame, he feared that he had managed to ruin the other most important thing his life, Charlotte.

It was a shame the time shift couldn’t erase what had happened between Charlotte and him. Technically, they had never had sex, since that timeline had vaporized. But no matter how he tried to play it in his mind, he couldn’t avoid the fact that it had happened. And Charlotte hadn’t said a word about it in the entire day since the time shift.

Not that Triaten had managed to broach the topic either. There honestly hadn’t been time, and additionally, he wasn’t looking forward to the conversation. Did I service you well? Whose dick did you imagine was deep inside you? Who were you thinking of when you came — cause it sure wasn’t me?

Charlotte shook under his arm. “I just want to go home.” Her voice was small. The mental exhaustion of the last month and a half, physical combat almost daily, killing Malefics, keeping Aiden alive, healing the frequent wounds of both Aiden and Triaten, had clearly hit her. All that, and she was still staring at the flame moon above them like a death sentence had descended.

Triaten tightened his arm around her and steered her to his jeep, parked at the curb. Within minutes, they were down the mountain, a half-mile out of town, pulling up to Charlotte’s house.

Parked at her door, Charlotte made no movement to the door handle; her eyes, instead, locked on the moon through the jeep’s open roof. She was worse off than Triaten had figured.

He got out and guided Charlotte from the vehicle in through her front door. The moment they were inside, out of view of the creep-inducing moon, Charlotte blinked hard, waking herself up from her trance. She took a step away from Triaten’s guiding arm. She looked silently around her living room, getting her bearings, and then her eyes landed on Triaten. Not even a moment passed before she stepped back to him, grabbing his neck with both hands and pulling him down onto her lips.

Not a second was given to resist or react. Charlotte moved backward, pulling him with her deeper into the room. One hand curved on his neck, while the other moved quickly down his body. He did nothing to curb her.

Hell. He still hadn’t figured out what the first time they had sex meant, and now he found himself right back in the same situation.

Charlotte turned and pushed him down on the couch, and followed, legs straddling his thighs. Her hands were deep in his crotch, unbuttoning, caressing, as her mouth covered his neck. Triaten was ready for her without any preamble, springing forth, and seeing that, she didn't bother to wait, reaching under skirt and removing her underwear.

She repositioned herself on his lap, and grabbed the back of the couch, hands on either side of Triaten's head. As she slid down onto him, her head tilted back, eyes closed. Her thighs lifted her up and down, smoothly gaining rhythm. The exact replay of the night before. A different location, a different vantage point for him, but the exact same for Charlotte. She had left him in every way possible, except for where their bodies were joined.

Her moans increased, and low, guttural, her voice begged. "Oh god, yes, just make it go away."

It was what made Triaten break. And, for the life of him, he couldn't stop his hands or his growl. He grabbed Charlotte's hips and lifted her off of him, setting her down next to him on the couch.

He stood up and shoved himself, still hard and straining, back into his pants. Charlotte blinked in shock, confusion. Stunned, it took her a second to come back to the moment in front of her and focus on Triaten.

Her mouth was agape, eyes vulnerable, as Triaten looked down at her. But it didn’t lessen the harsh clip in his voice. “Charlotte, I love you, you know I do, but you can't use me like this."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Use you?"

Triaten bent over her, hand on her cheek. "Char, we can't walk around with my dick in you all the time, just so you'll be able to forget how real life works."

Her face tightened as though he had slapped her. Fury flashed through her body as she stood up, facing Triaten. "Don't be crass, Triaten."

"Don't change the subject, Charlotte."

She grabbed his arm just above his elbow. "I wasn't using you. You wanted this too."

"Did I? Did I really? I let it happen, and when I did, I wanted you, Charlotte, not just my dick in you.” He shook his arm loose of her grasp. “You. All of you. Your body. Your mind."

"I was right here."

"Wow. Really? Were you?” Anger was not in Triaten’s nature, so his voice, even though he was seething, remained even and calm. But it had a clear edge. “Tell me, what was flashing in your mind when your eyes were closed? When you were thrusting? Moaning? ‘Cause it sure as hell wasn't about me or you would've had your lips on mine. Your eyes in my eyes. What was going on in there, Charlotte," he motioned to her head, "or really, who was it? Thomas?"

Stung, Charlotte turned and staggered away from Triaten, collapsing down onto the couch. She didn't have an answer. Her head bowed into her hands.

Triaten hadn't been able to stop himself from mentioning Thomas. And he had dared to hope Charlotte might deny it. But it was clear she wasn't going to try. He had hit the truth.

There wasn't anything more to say. He spun and stepped to the door.

"Triaten," Charlotte's voice, horrible and weak, stopped him. With his hand not moving from the door handle, he turned around, only to see her standing, crushed — the most vulnerable he had ever seen her. Worse than when Thomas died.

She stopped and started several times, words trying to escape but not making their way from her chest. Finally, the words slipped out in a whisper. "How could you do this to me?"

Triaten swallowed hard against the instinct to rush to her and envelop. With no answer, he pushed the heavy wood door open and walked out.

 

~~~

 

He got to the airfield just before she approached the boarding stairs to the jet. Triaten threw his jeep into park on the tarmac and burst out, running over to Charlotte. He grabbed her arm, just as her foot landed on the first step leading up to the Gulfstream.

Her head spun, having been so focused on leaving, she didn’t even hear Triaten pull up or run over to her. The instant her eyes caught his, she jerked her arm away and stepped quickly up, her low heels clinking on the metal stairs.

“Charlotte wait,” Triaten yelled at her back. “You owe it to me to stop and listen. You don’t have to talk, just listen.”

Her feet slowed, and at the top of the stairs, just before she disappeared into the airplane’s cabin, she paused. She looked back down at him. Silently, she turned and came reluctantly down the stairs. She stopped at the stair that afforded her the height to be eye-level with Triaten.

He could see pain still etched in her brow, and her mouth stretched tight. The dark circles under her blue eyes were evidence of a sleepless night. A small acknowledgment of the situation, Triaten thought. At least it wasn’t just him — he hadn’t slept all night either, and when he went to her clinic this morning to see her, only to find out she was planning on leaving, planning on flying half-way around the world to avoid him, it didn’t help his mood in the slightest.

She stared at him, mouth closed, waiting.

Never at a loss for words, Triaten paused. He had nothing. How to begin now that he had her attention? “I stopped by the clinic.”

A crisp nod. “I presume they told you I was leaving, and where I was going?”

“Doc Smith told me. Charlotte...you don’t need to go...not now.”

“Actually, I do. I got the call from Doctor Saima early this morning. She’s in desperate need of extra medical hands right now. Her camp has been overrun in the last few months with another thousand refugees. She sounded overwhelmed — the women and children coming in are in poor state. And I’m not needed here now that things have been righted with Aiden and Skye.”

“And what about us?”

“What about us?” she choked a sarcastic chuckle. “I think last night was pretty self-explanatory.”

Just then, the pilot stuck his head out of the plane. He cleared his throat, garnering Charlotte’s attention. “Ms. Martin? Do we have an estimated time of departure?”

Charlotte glanced at Triaten, then looked up and answered, “Five minutes, tops. Thanks, Gary.”

Triaten grabbed her hand and nodded to the jeep. “Just come and sit with me, in private, for the five minutes.”

She didn’t move.

“Five minutes.” Triaten implored.

She adjusted the chocolate leather bag she had over her shoulder and stepped off the stairs, allowing Triaten to lead her to the vehicle.

Both sitting in the front of the jeep, Triaten stared at her, wondering what he could do, what he could say to make her stay. Charlotte’s eyes were averted off to the plane, the sun reflecting golden shards off the silver panels.

“Charlotte, I still haven’t figured out what us being together meant, what it could mean. But I don’t want to try to figure it out alone.”

“Why does it have to mean anything?” She rubbed her forehead, her elbow resting on the jeep’s door. She was not about to look his way.

Triaten’s hand went gently onto her forearm. “It doesn’t, but it could. You are my best friend, Char, and I love you. Since we were kids we have been together through the worst pain and fantastic happiness. And for you to run off with this hanging between us — there are too many what-ifs attached to it — too many possibilities.”

Charlotte finally turned her head to him. Anger still tightened her lips. “Really Triaten? Of the thousands of women you’ve had throughout the years, why does this have to be any different? I’ve never known you to confuse sex with emotion.”

“Because it’s you Char.” Triaten’s voice cracked. “It’s you.”

He held her gaze for seconds before he was presented with a blond ponytail as she turned her head full away from him, back to looking out the open window.

Triaten wasn’t going take that as an answer. “What if some part of you really wanted me — me, those times — not what was in your imagination?”

Silence.

Silence until slowly, her head shifted and she looked at him again. All anger had disappeared. Beaten. Now she just looked beaten.

“You were right.” She choked on her words. “I was thinking of Thomas — both times. And you were also right — I was using you, and I can’t stay here and do that to you.”

"So stay and don’t do it to me. It’s a choice, Charlotte. I don’t know why, after all these years — a quarter of a century — Thomas still has a hold on you. You've elevated him to a pedestal of perfection — and you’re not willing to let go of that dead perfection.” Triaten paused.

His heart, his mind, had just shifted to a place he hadn’t expected it to go, nor was he sure he was even ready for.

But ready be dammed. He needed Charlotte to stay. “But you have a choice. Love the memory of someone long dead, or love the person right in front of you.”

His hand went to the back of her neck, just below the thick of hair pulled into the ponytail. He could feel her skin prick under his touch, as his thumb traced the raised skin of the triple infinity scar on her neck. “Love the one that can talk to you...listen to you...make you laugh...hold you...kiss you...touch you.”

“What you’re asking of me...” her head shook as her eyes moved down to the bag on her lap. She couldn’t look Triaten in the eye. “I don’t think I can love like that again, Triaten. I can’t. It was too painful. And with you. You are a part of me. And if we went there, and I lost you like I lost Thomas...I just can’t...don’t ask me to.”

“Even with all the pain, you’ve always said you would never trade away the time you and Thomas were together. It was worth it.” His fingers circled, caressing her neck. “We could be worth it, Char. We are a match in every way. You just have to take the chance.”

Moments passed, and Triaten held his breath. He could hardly believe the words that had come out of his mouth, but he knew they were truth. Whatever the past between them, no matter their paths in life, this was the moment it changed for him. He wanted her. Down to his core. Wanted her in his bed. In every aspect of his life.

He hadn’t planned the words, didn’t even realize until they came from his mouth, what he was saying. What he hoped for. He also knew he wasn’t about to take them back.

Charlotte’s eyes were brimming with tears when she finally looked up into Triaten’s eyes. "Just let me go.”

"So you’re going to martyr yourself...your happiness…to fear?"

She shook her head, her eyes not leaving his. “Just let me go.”

His hand recoiled from her neck. “I can’t make you stay.”

She grabbed his removed hand. “Tri, you know what I mean. You need to let me go.”

“That’s it, then?” He couldn’t help his voice from snapping.

Eyes closed, she nodded yes. Without another word, she opened the door and walked over to plane, up the stairs, and into the cabin. She didn’t look back.

 

~~~

 

Triaten pulled up to the river, late. He had stopped at home to change clothes; he owed that much to Aiden and Skye, to not show up haggard and wrinkled. Horace was there, standing next to his own black suv, looking impatient as always.

Triaten gave a nod of acknowledgment, and a short, “Father,” to Horace as he got out of his jeep. He walked over to where Aiden and Skye were waiting alongside the river. A stab of unnatural jealousy jolted Triaten as he approached them. They were laughing together, eyes focused solely on each other, while the river gurgled behind them. They had no idea Triaten was watching them as intensely as he was.

Skye caught sight of him first, and hurried over to Triaten, arms flinging around his neck.

“You look beautiful, love.” Triaten said in her ear as he grasped her tightly, and indeed, she did. A long emerald green dress, silk, hung delicately down her curves, ending in a flow around her ankles. Her chestnut hair dropped in soft curls down her back, with the hair just about her face pulled back in a braid that crowned her head.

At least mankind got one thing right, Triaten thought, when they elevated Panthenites to god-status thousands of years ago — this was exactly what a Greek goddess should look like.

Skye stepped back from him and looked over his shoulder at the vehicles, as Triaten grabbed Aiden’s hand and threw his arm around his friend.

“Ready for this, A?” Triaten asked, forcing enthusiasm into his words.

“More than.” Aiden answered.

“It’s good that you got Horace to officiate. Puts an appropriate stamp of approval on the marriage.”

“Isn’t Charlotte with you?” Skye asked Triaten, eyes still scanning the suvs lined up.

“No. She had to leave this morning for Africa.”

Skye’s face went to confusion. “Africa? Whatever for? I had assumed — hoped, she would be here. You two are the ones we want to share this with. She couldn’t even stay through the day?”

“I know, love. It was an emergency, and she’s sorry. The refugee camp she helped create, and spent years at, is in a desperate situation with thousands of new women and children. They need her medical skills. She just found out, so she left this morning on one of the jets.”

Skye turned to Aiden, eyebrow arched. “You guys have jets, too?”

Aiden shrugged. “A fleet throughout the world, but we always keep three or four at an airfield about a half-hour away. Helicopters, as well. Any of the Panthenites can use them.”

He turned his attention back to Triaten, concern evident. “Should we be going down with her? Any danger? Thousands of new refugees can only mean unrest in the area.”

Triaten shook his head. “I talked to her this morning at length about it, and I know why she went so quickly. And no, we don’t need to go after her.”

Both Aiden and Skye looked suspect at Triaten, but could tell from his face they would get nothing more from him on the matter.

Horace stepped into the group and cleared his throat. “Shall we get on with it?”

The three nodded in unison. Two smiling. One hiding a grimace.

 

 

{ Chapter 3 }

 

He was alone.

Alone, and the silence didn’t suit him. Triaten looked at his lone figure in the mirror lining the back of the bar in Joe’s. He didn’t like having only himself to look at, to contemplate. Joe was in the kitchen grabbing his food, and Triaten was suffocating in his solitary bubble.

In the three months since Aiden and Skye had left for the Orient, only a week after their wedding, Triaten had allowed himself to wallow in a hermit lifestyle. And he had eaten way too much grease. The silence did him no favors, he reflected, as he leaned against the bar, thumb nail carving into the wood. Renovating the ranch and adding on an additional wing to accommodate more guests had kept him busy. But not busy enough. It was the singular meals that were killing him. He had found out quickly that he had, apparently, been taking for granted having Charlotte and Aiden, and then Skye, nearby.

Skye needed the hand-to-hand combat training that would best be taught by masters half-way around the world. So it was no surprise they left so soon. Since then, there had been little contact from Aiden — location updates, as they moved from ancient master to ancient master, and only the occasional side comment that Skye was learning quickly.

A wry smiled touched Triaten’s lips. Most Panthenites had gone through trainings by the masters at a young age, in the mountains of China, Japan, Korea — and Triaten didn’t know anyone that it hadn’t been brutal for. If Skye thought Aiden had been hard on her, Triaten wondered how long it had taken before she realized she was going to get her ass kicked to new heights by the old men.

And not only were his best friends gone, everything had gone quite since the flame moon. Everything. Nary a peep from the Malefics or Panthenites. So Triaten had allowed himself to be sucked into helping the elders broker a peace deal between two battling landlords — war lords, really — that had killed multitudes of innocents over the past decade.

Joe appeared in the doorway to the kitchen behind the bar. “To go, right?” he asked, holding up the brown bag.

“Yea, thanks, Joe.” Triaten grabbed the bag.

“Oh, and before I forget, there was a girl — woman — in here asking about Skye this morning. I told her Skye was out of town for a while — any news on when she and Aiden will be back, in case the girl stops back?”

Triaten’s guard spiked. “A woman? How long ago?”

Joe shrugged, “Two, three hours, maybe. Said she stopped by the hotels with no luck — don’t know if that means no room at the hotels or no finding Skye — but then she said she had an address and she’d stop by there.”

“She say what address?”

“That’s the thing, she was looking for Skye, but had your address. I pointed her up the mountain — didn’t know you’d be down here in town today.”

Triaten nodded. “A name? What did she look like?”

“Didn’t ask a name. Pretty. Dark hair, ‘bout so tall,” he held his hand up to his chin. “She headed out up the road right away, looked like. Seemed kinda harmless.”

“They all do, until they’re not.” Triaten shook his head in a sigh and stepped away from the bar with a knuckle rap. “Thanks, Joe.”

Minutes later and a burrito eaten en route, Triaten pulled into the drive to his house. He hadn’t been there for days — he’d been spending most of his time at the ranch — and was a little surprised to see the car parked in front. The girl had found the place, even though most of the houses on the mountain lacked address identification, including his.

She had propped herself up on the hood of her black Mustang, leaning back on the windshield, head turned up to the sky. Early fall sunlight reflected off her sunglasses. She didn’t move as Triaten pulled up next to her, and killed the jeep’s engine.

He paused to study her before he got out. He recognized her immediately, even with the sunglasses on. Skye’s sister. The one who had sent him the box — the box that had sprung the out-of-control spiral into action for Skye and Aiden. The one that hadn’t wanted to see Skye when Triaten and Charlotte first found her, and told her Skye had been injured and had no memory.

In fact, Triaten had entered her mind in that first meeting, and even though she tried to hide it, he knew she actually felt relieved upon learning of Skye’s amnesia. The relief was followed by emphatic refusal in not wanting to see Skye. That part, she didn’t bother to try to hide.

Napping on the hood was an obvious choice, as clothes and boxes demanded all the free space in car. And Triaten hadn’t noticed the last time they met, but Joe didn’t underestimate, she was pretty. Crossed at the ankles, long legs in skinny jeans blanketed up the hood, leading into a lean, athletic frame not concealed by the dark blue blouse she wore. A thick swath of dark, almost black, glossy hair was tied over a shoulder and curled down over her chest. Below her sunglasses, her cheekbones and chin were crisp, defining her face as refined. And, most importantly, she looked relaxed.

When last they met, Triaten could not see the true her, not through all the anger and resentment that had exploded when they told her they were there on behalf of Skye. The bitterness had been enormous, and it had not offered up any room for Triaten to see, or read in her mind, anything else. It hadn’t been attractive.

And what did she want now? Triaten thought with a sigh and got out of the jeep. Her showing up right now was highly suspect.

He stepped out of the jeep and closed the door, and she jerked up, almost slipping off the hood. She slid down the hood and bumbled awkwardly to her feet, nervous hands smoothing her clothes and hair, making sure all items were in the right place.

Triaten walked over and stood in front of her. He was a head taller than her in the flats she wore. He said nothing, instead, trying to focus in right away on her mind.

Her movements petered out as his silent stare took her off-guard. She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, and blinked at the harsh sunlight hitting her green eyes — teal green, Triaten noted, not emerald green like Skye’s.

“Hi, I don’t know if you remember me?” her voice started shaky, still discombobulated from her interrupted nap. She cleared her throat and started again. “I’m Shiv, Skye’s sister. We met a few months back.”

Triaten nodded. “I remember.” He answered short, as he was more concerned about lasering in on some solid thought in her brain. A firestorm brewed in her mind, and it was taking a lot longer than usual for him to read what was happening in her head.

Shiv’s eyes darted around at the woods surrounding them and Triaten’s house. It looked as though she was suddenly questioning her decision to wait here in the middle of nowhere, for a stranger she knew nothing about. “I...sorry...it’s just...it’s just that...” She stopped and shook her head, clearing her stammering. A deep breath and she started again, this time with a solid calm in her voice. “I know last time we met I was...uncharitable with my time — no, let’s be honest — a bitch. I’m sorry about that. But I do need to see Skye, and I’m hoping you can tell me where she is.”

“She’s in the Orient.”

“The Orient?” Confusion crossed her brow. “Like China?”

“Yes, among other eastern countries.”

“Oh...well, do you know when she’ll be back? She is living here, isn’t she? The bartender in town thought you would know. Or maybe how I could get a hold of her?”

“Why do you want to see her?”

“Why?” Shiv bristled in annoyance. “She’s my sister. Isn’t that enough?”

Triaten glared at her. “You’re right. Last time we met, you were a bitch. So I’m not so sure why you think I would help you see Skye. She’s turned into a good friend of mine, and I would prefer to protect her from any shit from you, if I can.”

“Wow. Really?” Her eyes rolled and her forehead bunched. “You’re going to judge me, and you don’t know anything about me?” Her hands went to her hips. “Listen, I just really need to see her. And soon.”

At that moment, Triaten finally pinpointed his mind-reading of Shiv, and only one clear thought reverberated through her brain. She’s all I have left. Over and over. She’s all I have left.

Shiv shrugged. “But if you can’t help — I don’t know. I guess I’ll go into town and sleep in my car until something opens up at a hotel. But I am going to wait until she comes back, or I’ll find someone else to help me get a hold of her. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” She started to slide past Triaten.

“The hotels are all full?” Against his instincts, Triaten could feel himself soften to her. He didn’t think it smart, but there was so much pain in those five words — she’s all I have left — he couldn’t quite help himself. He was always one for the injured.

“Yes, I guess, at least for a week, I was told.” She tucked a piece of dark hair behind her ear.

“And you’re going to wait around to see her, no matter what?”

“That’s the plan.” She stepped fully past him, and walked around to the car door.

He followed her and grabbed her wrist as her hand grasped the handle. She stopped and looked at him, annoyed.

“Okay, here’s the deal — I own the ranch at the end of the road up the mountain. We’re full right now of guests, but I do have one room left, it was slated to be renovated next, but that can wait. It’s yours if you want it until Skye and Aiden get back. I think they’ll be back in a couple of weeks.”

“Aiden? Who’s that?”

Triaten grinned as he let go of her arm. “Joe — the bartender — didn’t tell you?”

Shiv shook her head no.

“Your sister is married now.”

Shiv paused and her eyes met the ground, then moved to the sky as she took in the news. “Holy…” She bit her lip as sadness flooded her face, then she shook her head, resigned. “His name is Aiden?”

Triaten nodded.

“Good. I’m happy for her.” Her eyes shifted to the ground again.

Triaten wasn’t going to let her dwell. “So to the ranch? You can follow me up. Or would you rather hole up in your car in town?”

For a moment, she looked indecisive. “Do you have Internet access? I know my cell is spotty around here. I’m a programmer, and can do my work anywhere, but I’m finishing a major project and just need access once I finish coding.”

“Iffy, right now, but we’re working on the infrastructure up to the ranch. The connection is good in town, so you can always head in and use access at one of the hotels or at Joe’s, if needed.”

Shiv paused, looking down at her feet. She was thinking. Weighing the options. You’ve got nowhere else to go. Triaten read in her thoughts. He’d have to explore that one more fully.

Her head snapped up, and she gave him a trepidacious smile. “Okay, thank you. I’m not sure I deserve the kindness, not after our last meeting.”

“No worries. Oh, and one minor thing. Can you be discreet? We usually don’t have casual tourists on the ranch, and there are some high profile guests that come and go there.”

“High profile? I guess, sure, I can be discreet. Is it going to be expensive to stay there?”

“What? Oh no.” Triaten opened her car door. “There will be no money exchanged — Skye would kill me if she knew I charged you for a bed.”

“Oh, no — I can’t sponge off you.”

Triaten chuckled. “You can and will. Buy me a beer at Joe’s and we’ll call it even.”

She gave him a genuinely grateful smile. “Sounds good,” she said, stepping into the car and sitting down behind the wheel.

And just like that, Triaten’s bridge into her mind broke. No more thoughts, no chance of reading her again. It always happened once he got to know someone, friend or foe. But it had never happened this quickly before. Never.

And he was momentarily unsettled at the fact.

 

~~~

 

Up at the ranch, Triaten showed Shiv her room with a private bath, and the kitchen where she was free to make her own food or eat whatever Stewart, the chef he had hired for feeding guests and staff, was cooking up. She also met Rafe, Skye’s dog, who was hanging around the back kitchen door.

Rafe took to Shiv immediately, nuzzling up against her. Triaten watched them intently. Had he misjudged her? Because if there was one thing he had learned about Rafe in the last few months while Aiden and Skye were gone, is that the dog had an even better instinct about people than he did. So much so, that Triaten often trotted the dignitaries that were common at the ranch by Rafe, before even bothering to read their minds. Rafe’s reaction to a person usually pointed Triaten in a specific direction when he was fishing in their heads.

The elders were more than pleased with the current arrangement of sending international dignitaries, who had come to negotiate amongst themselves or ask for Panthenite help, up to the ranch for meetings. The ranch was removed, and whereas many of the dignitaries were suspicious of being in town near the elders, as a few of them knew of the Panthenite powers, Triaten appeared a non-threatening host. None of the visitors knew Triaten could read minds.

The situation worked perfectly, as there was often too much at stake in many of the negotiations — borders in dispute, warring clans drawing up peace accords, decisions on aid for famine or displaced communities — to leave it up to the politicking and ulterior motives of man.

So when Shiv bent down to give Rafe some good love scruffs right behind his ears, and the dog was clearly smitten with her, Triaten conceded in his mind that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as awful a person as their first meeting had him believing.

After the quick tour, Shiv excused herself to her room so she could work. She went outside and grabbed a laptop bag and ear buds from her car, and on the way back in through the house, a cup of coffee from kitchen. From the study at the front of the ranch, Triaten watched her walk up the stairs to her room, which was actually adjacent to the room Skye had originally stayed in when she first landed at the ranch. He couldn’t quell the suspicions he had of her presence. Why now? And did she have any clue of what Skye was? Since Skye was adopted, and turned out to be a Panthenite — Panthenite-Malefic, he corrected himself, who was to say Shiv wasn’t the same?

But Triaten didn’t get any closer to answers in the next three days. Shiv went to her room and sequestered herself in there, door closed. According to Chef Stewart, Shiv rarely showed up in the kitchen or dining hall, and when she did, she ate very little food. She did however, per reports, drink unusual amounts of coffee.

On day four, Triaten was at the stables, checking out a mare, when he just happened to glance up and see Shiv walking out of the woods. Even from across the short field, Triaten could see she looked gaunt and bleary eyed, dark circles dragging down her face. He hadn’t seen her out of her room at all, nor had anyone else on staff, except to come into the kitchen, so to see her walking from the woods startled him.

It made him wonder what she was really doing in her room all this time. He could normally discern the slightest twitch of drug use in people right away, but he hadn’t seen any indication of that in Shiv the other day. But his powers were off, and he knew it. At least with her.

He left the horse and walked in Shiv’s direction, intercepting her just before she got back to the main house.

“Hey, finally out of your room?” He came to her side and touched her shoulder.

She jumped and looked up, startled. Her eyes had been trained on the ground in front of her, and the earbuds in her ears had blocked the sound of Triaten’s approach.

She pulled the buds from her ears as her eyes took a moment to focus on him. “Sorry, what?”

Closer, she looked even worse than he had thought. Triaten wondered how much sleep she’d had in the last few days. “Out for a walk?” He pointed at the woods behind her.

“Yea, I’ve got a bug in the code that I’m trying to pinpoint. I fix it and I’m done with the project. But it’s a bitch. I thought not staring at a screen might help, so I headed out.”

“Have you slept, eaten in the last three days?”

Confusion hit her face, and she didn’t look like she could even think her way out of a paper bag. “I had...I think...Yes, I ate something — I don’t know what — something from the fridge last night. I don’t remember what it was, but I definitely remember chewing.”

“Okay, well, two things — no three. One, you need to eat. Two, you need to sleep. And three, you need to take Rafe out with you if you’re walking in the woods –” he grabbed the white buds hanging around her neck, “and no more of these in the woods.”

Shiv glared up at him. “I get this project done, and I’m good for a year. These people pay me well to be quick and to solve their problems. And I haven’t solved their problem yet, so the eating and sleeping are my decision.” She paused with a sigh. “But what’s with Rafe and the music in the woods?”

Triaten tried to hide his exasperation. “It’s real wilderness here, Shiv. That means bears and mountain lions. You need to hear what’s around you. And Rafe is extra insurance against running into wildlife. He’ll scare off pretty much anything that comes across your path. Plus, he likes you and misses Skye, so he’d enjoy the walk.”

She smiled. “So that’s why he’s been hanging out in my room. It’s been kind of nice having him in there while I work. We — I never had a dog.”

“So you’ll take him with you if you go out again?”

She nodded.

“Good. And you’ll do me a favor and at least eat something? It’s one of the basics, since showering doesn’t seem to be one of them.”

The smirk on Triaten’s face wasn’t returned. Instead he got a defeated shrug. “Fine, I’ll — hell,” her eyes lit up as she interrupted herself, “– that’s it! The basics — I didn’t think it could be in there, but I bet — you’re a genius!” She thwapped his arm in excitement. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Shiv ran past him, half skipping into the house. Triaten doubted she was stopping for food.

 

 

{ Chapter 4 }

 

Morning came, and with it, a showered and well-rested Shiv. Triaten walked past her room several times once the sun had set the night before. He had a sandwich in hand, thinking to force it upon her, but when he heard the furious typing, he figured he dare not interrupt.

In the early morning light, it was quiet in her room, and Triaten hoped that meant sleep. Hours later, she walked into the stables, searching. The moment she saw Triaten, she strode over to him.

“You were right. Your Internet access is crap up here. Where did you say there was a good connection? I’d like to get the work in and the contract complete this morning still, if possible.”

Triaten smiled at her, but didn’t slow as he used a pitchfork to move the hay in front of him into a stable. “Good morning.”

She sighed and gave him a perfunctory smile. “Good morning,” she managed with a tilt of her head. “Is that all?”

Triaten nodded.

“Okay, so where can I find a solid connection?”

Triaten stopped and leaned on the pitchfork. She wore fresh clothes, a tight blue and grey striped v-neck, paired with flowing pants. She had good taste. Good taste that, unfortunately, reminded him of Charlotte. He squashed the thought.

“Internet? Both Hotel Auric and Joe’s have good lines. You can get your files off at either, it just depends whether you want to sit in a dive or sit in cold refinement.”

“I’ll take the dive. Thanks.” She turned without another word and left the stables.

“You’re welcome.” Triaten muttered at her back.

She didn’t turn around.

Evening came, and Triaten went into town to report to the elders on current negotiations going on at the ranch. The Frenchman and the Arab, and their respective posses, were not getting on as hoped. Negotiations on the land rights they were constantly warring over were beginning to break down.

There had been too many deaths over the years, and it had been an achievement just to get the two sides to finally sit down together. But now there were too many heads in a room, too much posturing, and pissing matches that popped up hourly. Aggravating, for Triaten had read in both of the leaders, Shafar and DeLisio, honest intentions to make peace happen. Triaten just needed the two to sit down or walk a trail by themselves, and there would be progress. Someone just needed to make it happen. He’d let the elders worry about that one.

Report to elders at Hotel Auric done, Triaten walked out onto the street of Brigton. The sun was just setting on the crisp day, and the distinct fall smell of red and yellow leaves drying up, dying, hung in the air. His stomach growled. Joe’s it would be.

A walk down the street told him that the summer tourist season had flipped into fall season — the bustle of people was lighter, but when he walked into Joe’s and scanned the bar, it was full, per usual. He started walking across the room, and then noticed Shiv sitting at the bar. She was still here? Triaten questioned in his mind. He sidled up by her left hand, which twirled a striped straw in her lowball glass.

The stonewall look on her face was in place before she even looked up at him. It was a clear “buzz off” facade that most pretty women were adept at. At least the ones that hung out in bars a lot.

It wasn’t until her eyes met his, that she recognized him. A smile erupted on her face. A true smile. Triaten suddenly recognized the fact that he hadn’t ever seen one from her before. This was a real smile, unmistakable in the way it crinkled her lively eyes.

“Triaten! Hi! You sir, deserve the beer I owe you right now!” She reached around him and patted the ripped, black vinyl swivel stool next to her.

Drunk. Or soon there. Triaten didn’t sit. “I see we’re in a better mood?”

“Fantastic! I got the files transferred a few hours ago, and I’m free — at least for a good year, or so.”

“So it’s a celebration?”

The smile dropped away and she shrugged. “Among other things.” Her eyes dove to the bar top for second, then bounced up, having shook free the momentary somberness. Whatever had just invaded her brain, she wasn’t letting it ruin her good mood.

Triaten hadn’t pegged her as a heavy drinker. “It’s not even dark out and you’re knee deep. Any reason for that?”

“Many.” She drew the word out slow, and then took another sip from her glass.

“Anything to do with why you showed up with your life in your backseat?”

“Among others.” Shiv shrugged. “But at this point, I’m going to change the conversation and tell you that you look like you need the drink more than I do.”

“Come again?” Triaten eyed her hard.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a brooder. Any reason for that?”

“Maybe.” It was Triaten’s turn to be evasive.

“Well then, sidle up and have a drink.” She patted the stool again.

Triaten relented, and sat down on the black vinyl. He studied Shiv’s face, noting her cheeks had a bright glow on them. “Have you had anything to eat yet?”

“Are you saying I haven’t been soaking up the alcohol?”

“I’m saying there were promises made about eating.”

She choked a laugh. “Promises? I think we recall our earlier conversation differently. I agreed to take Rafe with me on walks. But even dead-tired, I don’t recall promising anything about food or sleep to you. I do, however, recall you making demands upon my life.” Instead of annoyed, her tone merely teased.

Triaten liked this Shiv way more than the one that had been the crisp, recluse ghost the past few days. “Begging forgiveness, love. Your sister is like family to me, so that makes you the same, no matter how onerous you might be.”

She laughed, and it was hearty, filling the air around them. In that second, Triaten recognized that Shiv’s laughter, her smile, was a drug. It was a rare thing in a woman, and he hadn’t seen it in her earlier, but there it was.

It was in the infectious smile, the corners of her mouth that crinkled up, pointing to tiny dimples that sucked him in. It was how her eyes effortlessly brightened the room, electric in their mirth. Her laughter. See it, hear it once, and one would want it again and again. Triaten wondered how many men had gone over the top to produce it. It was a drug of the worst kind, because it was attached to a woman. A woman with her own mind. Charlotte’s laughing face sliced through his mind, taking him off-guard. Triaten blinked away the image.

“Onerous, huh?” Her eyes still twinkled. “I guess I deserve that one. Sorry, I suppose my mind has been in a thousand places these past few days, and you weren’t in any of the orbits. But right now,” she slapped the bar top, “I have nothing else to think about, so let’s see what a charmer I can actually be, shall we?”

Triaten couldn’t help but smile at her. “I’m game.” He waved Joe over, then turned back to Shiv. “So food. How about you buy me that beer and I buy you some food?”

“Again with the food?” She thought about it for a moment, then relented with a wave of her hand. “Fine, just to stop the harpy in you.”

“What’s up?” Joe gave a wave with his head at Triaten. “You guys hungry?”

“You bet. Two burgers and fries –” he turned to Shiv, “you eat meat?”

Drink to her lips, Shiv nodded.

Triaten turned back to Joe with a thumb pointing at Shiv. “And she’s buying me a beer.”

“Lucky man.” Joe smirked as grabbed a micro-brew and cracked it open for Triaten. “I’ll get the order in right off. And you’re good, Shiv?”

“For now — thanks, Joe.”

Joe rapped his knuckles on the bar, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Triaten took a large swallow of the beer. “First name basis with Joe — that was quick.”

Shiv shrugged. “I’ve been here all day.” A wicked smile crossed her face. “And I can be delightful when I want be.”

“Lucky Joe.” Triaten deadpanned.

“Indeed.” Shiv turned and leaned on her elbow as she looked Triaten up and down. “I gotta say, I don’t think anyone has ever ordered for me before.”

“I hardly believe no one has ever ordered a drink for you. You look in a mirror lately?”

An embarrassed smile landed on her face. “Is that a compliment?”

“Possibly, love.”

She shook her head in exasperation. “So yes, I have had one or two drinks come my way. But I mean the food. That’s never happened to me before. It seems so archaic — man orders for the woman.”

“Archaic?” Triaten took a swipe of beer. “Maybe. Where I come from, it’s just polite.”

“And do you come from the 50’s?” She raised her hand to stop his answer. “No, it’s okay. You’d think the woman’s lib-er in me would cringe, but I have to admit, it wasn’t half-bad.”

Triaten raised his bottle. “Well, cheers to a bygone era, then.”

She picked up her drink and they clinked, bottle to glass. Both swallowed, and then sat for a moment, each silently contemplating the bottles of spirits neatly lining the back of the bar.

Shiv looked over at Triaten cautiously. “So you, what’s your story for real? I’ve only seen you working in solitude around the ranch, usually with a sulk on your face.”

“A sulk? Really?”

Her face turned serious, like she was dramatically divulging a great secret. “Really. Sulky. A general scowl about your face.”

Triaten sighed as he brought the beer to his lips. “Ask me in a few more drinks. And they’ll have to be harder than beers.”

Shiv smiled and pounded the bar hard with a fist. “Joe,” her voice thundered over the bar din, “we need some scotch over here.”

Triaten stifled a laugh. “How about you? You show up, all your possessions in a car. And, forgive me for saying, love, with a look about you that said you had nowhere to go.”

Shiv nodded. “Fair enough question. But no answers until that scotch makes it over here.”

“Deal.”

Food, four games of darts, and eight neat scotches between the two of them, and Shiv broached the topic again.

She leaned against the stool shoved to the wall by the dart board, half-sitting on the round top, fingernail picking at the bottom edge of the vinyl. She had her glass in her hand as she pointed at Triaten. “So tell me — who, or what, are you drowning in the drink?”

Triaten finished pulling the sharp darts from the cork board — no plastic digitized darts at Joe’s — and froze, staring for a stretch at the dartboard’s starburst of black and white stripes.

When he finally turned around to Shiv, he walked slowly over to the high table next to her and took a dawdling sip of his drink.

“Am I really that obvious?”

Shiv shrugged as she set her glass on the table. “You’re somewhat broody. But I like the camaraderie. So is it a who or a what?”

“It’s a who.” He took another swallow. “And let’s just say the old adage about putting one’s self out on a very thin limb in hopes of it being strong enough to hold you, and then it doesn’t, and you crash to the ground, left with a broken soul and the limb slivers poking into your gut, is painfully true for me these days.”

Shiv studied him, unfazed. “Yea...I’m pretty sure that’s not an old saying.”

“No?” He gave her a wry eyebrow.

“And what is it about you she couldn’t stomach?”

“She’s in love with a dead man.”

“Ouch.” Shiv said with a cringe. “You over her?”

Triaten shuffled the three darts in his hand, the heavy metal of each clinking in rhythm. He shook his head with a bitter half-smile. “Nowhere near over.”

“That sucks — how long has it been? Few weeks?”

“Couple months.”

Shiv stood up next to Triaten, taking the clinking darts from his hand. “Is she gone for good?”

“Gone from me, for good.”

“Were you together for a long time?” she asked as she moved over to the scuffed oche paint mark on the wood floor.

Triaten winced. He couldn’t very well tell Shiv he’d known and loved Charlotte for more than a hundred years, and only recently discovered what that love really meant to him. He shrugged off her question and worked on changing the subject. “Doesn’t matter. How about you? I’m guessing you’re in the same boat, love?”

“Mine was married.” She raised her arm and threw the dart with gusto. Anger gusto.

“You over him?”

Shiv took a step back from the line and her eyes drifted not to him, but to the ceiling. Triaten could see the slightest tears welling above her lower lashes. She took a steadying sigh, then looked at him. “Over him, just not the destruction he caused on the way out.”

Triaten thought it an odd description of the end of a relationship, but didn’t press her. Something always got destroyed when people parted ways.

“He was an asshole, then?”

She grimaced. “An artist asshole, at that.” With a shrug, she regained her composure. She stepped back to the line and threw the last two darts in quick procession. She was not good at all, and only getting worse. The last two darts were buried into the wood paneling alongside the dartboard.

Shiv chuckled at the rogue darts and looked over at Triaten, mirth on her lips. “Remind me to remind you never to pick me as a partner in darts.”

Triaten laughed. “I don’t think I’ll need reminding on that front. Back to the bar?”

Shiv looked around the dark room. It had cleared out, with a few stragglers at tables and several sitting at the bar. She walked back over to Triaten and grabbed her drink. Her body lined up with his, and she looked up him. “Or we could get out of here.” Her eyes were serious — serious and suddenly, very enticing.

There was no mistaking what Shiv was suggesting, but Triaten wasn’t going there. At least not easily. She still was, after all, Skye’s sister. He stalled. “Out of here?”

Shiv smiled, smooth and bewitching. “Yes, out of here. Because honestly, you or Joe are the most likely suspects at this point.”

The humor hit Triaten, and the side of his face cocked up in a tease. “Me or Joe, huh? Why us?”

Shiv’s eyes trailed over Triaten’s shoulder to Joe, who stood, cleaning glasses behind the bar. “Well Joe, because he’s a good-looking bartender, and bartenders tend to be pretty good at casual sex. Which is exactly what I’m looking for.”

She looked back up at Triaten, and with a step, closed the remaining distance between them. “And you, because, well, you are a damn fine-looking man, and I’m guessing you know exactly what to do to a woman in bed.”

Triaten laughed, unrestrained. It was impossible not to appreciate the straightforwardness that oozed out of Shiv. “You are a cheeky one, love. And no. I haven’t had too many complaints. One or two, here and there, but everyone has off days.”

“And how is today feeling for you? On or off?”

Triaten gave the question actual consideration. “I was off. But I’m feeling a whole lot more on right about now.”

The smile that carved into Shiv’s face was pure lust. “So who’s it going to be? You or Joe?”

Triaten took the drink out of Shiv’s hand and set it on the table. He moved in on her, his face inches from hers as his fingers started at her shoulder, then ran down her arm. His fingers grasped hers. “Let’s get out of here. I’m driving.”

Halfway up the mountain to the ranch, the Styx’s, Come Sail Away with Me, blasted out of the jeep’s speakers, and in no time, Shiv went into full-blown air-drumming motion. Even in the dark glow of the dashboard, Triaten could see her eyes were closed, as she sang at the top of her very-bad signing voice. She swiftly moved into air-keyboarding with head rocking out to the interlude.

When her eyes cracked open, she laughed when she saw him watching her instead of the road, but it didn’t stop her. With head cracking, it was air-guitar time that she wasn’t going to miss.

God, she was lusty. Triaten thought. And Skye’s sister — don’t be stupid. But the argument in his head went nowhere. Skye’s sister or not, she wanted him, no strings, and he was sick of sulking. He didn’t realize until tonight how much he missed laughing and just having a good time. Without thought. Without drama. Just easy.

The song wound down, and Triaten smiled. “Had I known that was going to happen, I wouldn’t have let you touch the iPod.”

Shiv’s hand hit the last chord, and with theatrical swoop, her left hand landed on Triaten’s neck, fingers curling up into his dark hair. “I can tell you’re jealous of my mad air guitar skills.”

He chuckled as he shifted his hands on the steering wheel. “I’m not sure jealous is the right word for it, but okay.”

She shifted a leg under her for higher vantage in the seat as she twisted fully toward Triaten. “I gotta say, sweet tunes always turn me on.” Her right hand went to his knee, and slid up his thigh, caressing the hard line of muscle underneath his jeans.

Triaten’s foot on the gas pedal jerked when she hit his crotch. His gaze shifted off the road to look at her. Her chin almost brushed his shoulder, and her green eyes were devilish behind her thick lashes. Triaten shifted on his seat. “We’re only halfway there.”

“So pull over. Now.”

“You really can’t wait?”

Shiv leaned away, but didn’t take her hands off him. Instead her right hand started to circle the increasing bulge in his jeans. “Wow, I’ve never had to work so hard to convince a guy to stop and screw me.”

The driveway into Triaten’s house came into headlight view at that moment, and Triaten floored the accelerator. He took the turn fast, and started to wind the jeep through the wooded drive.

But Shiv was having no more of it, and she unbuckled her seat belt. Before Triaten could move his foot to the brake, Shiv had slid a leg over his lap and wedged herself between him and the steering wheel.

Her breasts, full and straining under her v-neck were right at eye level, and Triaten’s right hand stumbled to throw the jeep in park. They jerked to a stop.

“Really? The house is two minutes away.”

She smiled down at him. “Really.” Both of her hands curled onto his shoulders, pressing into the hard muscles. “The mood hits, the mood hits. I know I can be demanding. You think you can handle it?”

With one hand, Triaten reached up and buried his hand into Shiv’s hair, pulling her head down to his. His tongue plunged into her mouth, just as demanding, leaving no doubt as to whether or not he could handle her. His other hand was busy moving the seat back.

The seat stopped, and Triaten pulled back from Shiv.

She looked down at him, lips red and plump, and her hands along his neck, “What?”

“It’s just the last time I jumped into sex, I ruined my life.”

“So you need a moment?”

Triaten shrugged.

Shiv moved a hand to the headrest behind Triaten’s head. She tapped her fingers a few times. Impatient, her eyes locked into his. “Okay, pause over.” She left no room to argue, and her lips went back on his. It only took a second for her to draw him back into the moment.

Shiv wasted no time in beginning a slow, circular gyration on Triaten’s lap. He used the moment and slipped his hands under her shirt, then slowly shifted it up and off her body.

Shirt off, she smiled. “Oh no, not just me. You’re getting yours off too.” Her hands tore at his blue shirt. “I have been wondering what’s under there all night.”

Triaten managed to get his shirt past his head.

“Shit, really?” Shiv’s voice was in awe.

Triaten looked down at his chest, perplexed. He looked back up her. “Say again?”

“Where the hell did you get all this muscle?” Her hands ran along his chest, sliding past his nipples, down along the carved belly. They went up and down several times, taking in all the skin. Triaten got harder and harder with each pass of her soft hands.

“I mean, I knew you were fit under there, but come on, Triaten. Jackpot — this is frickin’ nice.”

Laughter rumbled in his chest as he buried his lips on her breasts, freeing the pulsating skin from her bra. She leaned back as far as the steering wheel allowed, arching against his warm tongue. Her hands slid down his back, pulling him hard into her body. Hips still spiraling, her breathing grew ragged with unstoppable moans.

Triaten pulled back from her body, looking at her beauty in the sliver of moonlight making it through the trees. He instantly regretted his mouth leaving her body, for in that moment he heard the dreaded word.

“Wait.”

Triaten tightened and held his breath, staring up into Shiv’s eyes. “What, love?”

“Before we do this. I have to make sure — it doesn’t mean a thing?” The words were breathless.

Triaten exhaled relief. “For me, no. You?”

The wicked smile reappeared. “No, not a thing.” Her hands went down to his jeans, unbuttoning and freeing Triaten. “Good. Let’s get you in me. Now.”

Shiv contorted and somehow made losing pants in the cramped jeep look graceful. Within seconds, she was back to straddling Triaten.

His fingers slipped up and down her long, naked back, as her hands clasped around his neck and she wedged her legs into place. Triaten didn’t let her fuss, and easily lifted her at the waist, then slid her down onto him, her hotness hungrily enveloping him.

“Oh, hell yea,” she whispered, and began thrusting, fingers digging into his shoulders for leverage.

Triaten wedged his feet for stability, answering each of her thrusts with hard voracity. Every plunge, she controlled him, until he met it and pushed her back to her limit. Forceful. Harsh. Both of them pushing the other to the limit.

Demanding release, Shiv gyrated faster and faster as Triaten plunged deep into her, straining. Pitching, the thundering wave descended down her body until she pinnacled, tightening around him, and sending Triaten into his own shuddered release.

Spasms pulsating, she leaned back from Triaten, still entangled, and propped herself on the steering wheel, gasping for breath, eyes closed. Triaten’s right hand spread flat on her chest, still riding the waves, while his left hand wouldn’t free her backside, still pushing her solidly onto him as aftershocks reverberated through his body into her.

The solid fog on the glass blocked the moonlight, but Triaten could still see the sheen on Shiv’s skin, pooling and rolling down her chest as the heaving slowed. He loved watching a woman in the aftershocks.

When Shiv finally opened her eyes to Triaten, they crinkled in happy shock. “Holy hell. You really do know what to do to woman’s body.”

Triaten couldn’t help a self-satisfied smirk. “So it turns out I was ‘on’?”

“So ‘on,’ I’d happily take you on an ‘off’ day.” She wiped her forehead and then hit the button to roll down the window. Evergreens swayed in the cool night breeze surrounding them, sending the scent of pine into the jeep.

“Okay, first, I need air.” Shiv closed her eyes again and leaned out the window, breathing deeply and gasping for as much oxygen as could fit into her lungs. On her exhale, she opened her eyes to look at Triaten. The green in them flickered — they were as ravenous as they had been when they first parked. “And then, do you think you can do that again?”

“Give me five minutes.”

“I give you three.”

 

~~~

 

Morning sunlight filtered in through the pines around the jeep, doing nothing to break the exhausted sleep Triaten and Shiv were weighed down by.

The slightest jerk of the naked leg on his lap eventually awoke Triaten, and he cautiously opened his eyes to the day, only to find himself tangled, naked with Shiv in the backseat of the jeep. They had never made it to the house last night.

Eyes blinking hard, Triaten rubbed his forehead. When he finally focused on Shiv’s face, he could see her start to blink, her head half-covered with his shirt. Goosebumps were all over body.

She stared at the roof of the jeep for a moment, before her eyes turned to Triaten. Laughter immediately erupted from her. “How the hell did we sleep like that?”

She sat up and began untangling her limbs from the ridiculous braid of their legs, a satisfied smile on her face.

Triaten scratched the back of his head, mind still groggy. “Yea, awkward, but the best sleep I’ve had in ages.”

“Really? Well, you’re welcome, then. Turns out I was ‘on’ last night too, huh?”

Triaten couldn’t help but laugh at the boast as he leaned forward and fished out his underwear and jeans from the front passenger seat. “Yes, yes you were.”

He passed Shiv her various articles of clothing, and then opened his door to step outside and pull his pants on. He stretched, shirtless, letting the cold morning air wake up his pores.

Shiv screeched and lunged at the open door. “Freezing!” She slammed it shut.

Triaten just shook his head and got into the driver’s seat. “Back to the ranch?” He knew he didn’t even have coffee at his place, much less anything for breakfast. It was nice having a chef at the ranch. Stewart would have a full breakfast buffet ready for all the guests.

“Yes, a hot shower is exactly what I need right now. Damn mountain air.” Still in the back, she pulled her shirt over her head. “When did it get so bitter cold? It was nice the other day.”

“It’s fall. It gets cold at night at this elevation.” Triaten turned and looked past Shiv out the back window, sending the jeep in reverse down the drive to the main road.

They went up the mountain, Triaten giving Shiv a lesson in higher altitude weather patterns along the way. She didn’t really listen, but did give the courtesy, “uh-huhs” when appropriate. After crawling into the front, she huddled close to one of the heating vents, clearly more interested in warming her hands, than in any conversation.

As they pulled into the circular drive at the front of the ranch, they slowed and stopped behind a large black suv with tinted windows — parked, but idling, right by the front door. Just as Triaten put on the brakes, a man in a crisp navy suit stepped from the front door, flanked by two men in black suits.

Shiv’s mouth dropped. “Holy shit, is that the Secretary of State walking out of the ranch?”

Triaten looked over at the man just as he stepped from the ranch’s front steps. Without a look around, he and the bodyguards got in the suv and took off.

“Ah, hell...it is.” Triaten hit the steering wheel with his palm. “That’s not good. Not good at all.”

Shiv’s mouth still hung open. “What’s the Secretary of State doing here?”

Triaten shot her a no-questions look. “Discrete — remember? I have to get in there.”

Triaten exited the jeep. Halfway to the ranch’s front door, he turned and stepped back, opening the passenger door. He leaned over her. “Just go in through the kitchen and take your shower, okay?”

Shiv instantly took offense. “The kitchen? So I’m the whore that can’t go through the front door?”

Confusion blanketed Triaten’s face before the understanding hit. “No — not in the slightest. I just don’t want you messed in with whatever snake pit I’m walking into.”

“Oh. Sorry. That was a bit much, huh?”

Triaten gave her a quick smile. “A bit.”

He turned and walked into the ranch. Horace was waiting for him in the study. He didn’t turn to Triaten, instead, looked out the front window, arms crossed against his chest. Triaten closed the door of the study behind him as he walked into the room.

“Father.”

“Negotiations elevated in a poor way and broke down last night.” Horace’s eyes didn’t leave the window as he spoke.

Out of the corner of the window, Triaten could see Shiv walking around the side of the ranch, directly in sight-line of Horace. So much for discreetness.

“What happened?” Triaten asked.

“The usual. An implosion of the negotiations. One snide comment, and it escalated out of proportion. DeLisio left for the airfield. Luckily, the Secretary was in town, and we got him to intercede. He convinced DeLisio — threatened, to be more precise — and got him back here, if not yet in the same room as Shafar.”

“So negotiations are back on?”

“In theory, but ten steps back.” Horace finally turned from the window, eyes narrowed at Triaten. “Where the hell were you? We’ve been working on this for weeks, and you decide to disappear? Neutrality was what was needed last night. It’s your job to supply it. It’s why we put them here to begin with.”

“All was peaceful when I left for town to give you and the elders the report last night. And then I was at Joe’s. Why didn’t someone get me?”

“Joe’s was closed, and you were nowhere to be found.”

Triaten didn’t answer. His jaw tightened, but he bit his tongue. He was screwed on that account.

“Who was that woman outside? And don’t tell me you’re abolishing your duties for some human tryst. You being involved with a human is not acceptable.” Coming from Horace, it was a scolding, not a question.

“No worries on that front. Just using her for sex, father. You taught me that well.”

“You’re walking a fine line, Triaten, and you’ve already cashed in all your good will with the Aiden and Skye debacle.”

Horace moved past him to the study door. Hand on the doorknob, he turned back to Triaten. “You right this today, Triaten. You get Shafar and DeLisio back at the table. I don’t need to remind you what’s at stake.”

Triaten shook his head. Just tens of thousands of lives, he filled in silently.