Tyrant (Scars of the Wraiths #2) Page 5

  “We didn’t sense her until Ryker returned and her presence was around him. I wish only to speak with her for a moment.” The woman turned her attention back to me. “Come, we’ll take a short walk.”

  She knew my name and about the compound. She’d even sensed me around the other Scar, Ryker, who’d been my husband’s test subject. I shivered and my stomach cramped as I thought of Ryker and his anguish over the death of his wife, Hannah.

  Kilter turned me toward him and cupped my chin, his thumb stroking back and forth like a pendulum. “She’s a meddling pain in the ass, but she’s a Wraith, and they are part of the Scars.” His eyes remained steady on me as he tucked a wet strand of hair back behind my ear again. “You don’t want to talk to her, then don’t. You do, fine, but you need me, I’ll be close. Your choice.”

  “What does she want?”

  “Don’t know that, babe, and doubt she’d tell me if I asked. Best guess, to get a feel for who you are.”

  I didn’t like that. “I’d rather not.”

  He nodded once and turned to the Wraith. “Fuck off.”

  The woman’s smile dropped and suddenly she looked scary as her eyes narrowed and blazed turquoise.

  She stepped closer to us, her long silk dress rustling against her long legs, and I hadn’t realized how tall she was, maybe five-nine. She looked in her late twenties, although her actual age I knew could be hundreds of years.

  By the way she addressed Kilter, she had the confidence of a dragon, but with the looks of a swan. Even when she walked, it was as though she floated on a cloud.

  She stopped a foot away. “You were a good man at one time, Kilter.”

  What did she mean? Why would she say that?

  “I was a trusting man. Now I’m not.”

  She was silent for a second, watching him, and he remained stoic under her powerful gaze. Her eyes shifted to me and I leaned into Kilter, although I was already as close as I could get. She gently laid her hand on my forearm and I held my breath, but didn’t move away.

  “You’ve been hurt a great deal.” Her words filtered into my head and I gasped. “Not just physically, but much more than that.”

  “Genevieve,” Kilter warned.

  She continued, eyes soft, voice softer. “Kilter is driven and harsh. His past is one we all failed at. He’s suffered and endured more than most, but I suspect you see that in him.” She paused, her eyes glimmering with warmth. “He’s protective of you, and I feel his possessiveness. But he is not your husband. I have faith he will never harm you.” Genevieve sighed. “Kilter will have a hard time watching you continue to fade. I trust you understand what I am saying.”

  I did. Because every day, I felt my body slowly failing me, and yet I no longer fought it. The fight had died a long time ago.

  “Time can heal the most broken souls if you let it.” Genevieve smiled, but there was sadness to it. “I’ll leave before he does something foolish, but know that I will always be near if you need me.”

  Her hand left my arm and she stepped back. “You are not a prisoner here, Rayne.” Her gaze shifted to Kilter as she said in a hard tone, “And you may leave if that is your wish.”

  Kilter’s fingers splayed on my hip twitched, and I expected he was going to respond to that when her form dissolved into mist then disappeared.

  Whoa. Overwhelmed was an understatement.

  I was freaked out that the woman had been able to speak to me in my head. Not because I didn’t know about the ability, it was that she managed to get through my blocks I had around my thoughts. Blocks I’d spent years building.

  “Like I said, meddling. You good?”

  “Yeah.” But I didn’t like having someone speak to me in my head. It was invasive and scary. “Can I… can I be alone?”

  A subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth and his hand squeezed my hip. “Fuck, yeah. You need me, I’ll be upstairs.” He let me go and quietly left.

  I sat in the wide lounge chair by the window, fighting the raging emotions I swore died inside me years ago. I wanted to curl up and sleep for weeks.

  But I wasn’t safe here. I don’t think I’d ever feel safe again.

  There was a faded memory before my parents died when I’d felt safe. I remember my room all dressed in pink, subtle and soft like cotton candy. There’d been frills on my bed and the curtains, and I had a pink blanket laying over the back of a rocking chair where my mom used to sit and read to me. When I was older, I’d sit and read to myself.

  Had it been a dream? Why were so many memories from my childhood gone? Why couldn’t I remember what my parents looked like anymore?

  I pulled my legs up to my chest and rested my chin on my knees. Despite what the Wraith, Genevieve, said, this was another prison. Just a decorated one.

  WHEN I ENTERED THE kitchen, breakfast was already made and on the dining room table in the next room. Unfortunately, that meant the other Scars were sitting at the table eating.

  “Hey, buddy,” Jedrik said as he shoveled in a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

  “I’m not your fuckin’ buddy.” I grabbed a plate from the cupboard above the toaster and moved to the table to pile on eggs, two pieces of rye bread, a few slices of well-done bacon, and a slice of tomato. Then I sat across the table from Jedrik.

  Hack, who was in the seat at the head of the table, reached across and grabbed two pieces of toast and his favorite morning vegetable, green beans. I shook my head with disgust as he made a green bean sandwich with a shitload of hot mustard and Tabasco sauce.

  Jedrik laughed. “You know, Hack, ever thought of going on a reality show? ‘Cause, man, you could win eating competitions hands down.”

  “Not eating bugs. I hate those things—June bugs, cockroaches.” He made an exaggerated shiver. “Could you imagine the sick crunch those suckers would make? Not happening.”

  “Hey, boys.” Anstice strolled in wearing jeans and a white blouse. Her massive furball dog ambled in after her, probably hoping for leftovers. She grabbed a plate from the pile at the end of the table and sat beside Jedrik. “What things?”

  “Hack hates eating bugs,” Jedrik announced.

  “Really? Any bugs or just certain ones?” Anstice asked as she scooped scrambled eggs out of the bowl and onto her plate.

  “Anything with a solid crunch.” Jedrik grabbed a green bean, lifted it to his mouth, and crunched. “Mmm, friggin’ good.”

  Hack threw a piece of toast at him, but Jedrik was quick with his telekinesis and sent a strip of bacon back at him.

  Fuckin’ idiots.

  Jedrik turned to me. “So what’s the deal? You show up in the middle of the night with this chick from the compound?” Everyone had seen me carry a sleeping Rayne through the house into the basement. When the questions started, I ignored them and I told everyone to back the fuck off. They did. Now, that was ending. “Compound was off the board until Waleron gave the okay.”

  “Not off my board,” I said.

  “She mean something to you?” he continued.

  I wasn’t justifying my actions to any of them. Never had and I wasn’t about to start. And the truth was, I didn’t know, and right now, I was still reeling about Genevieve’s unannounced drop in. I hadn’t seen her in over a hundred years, after I escaped my brother’s torture chamber. Seeing her brought back memories I wanted no part of.

  “Waleron’s going to kick your ass,” Jedrik went on. “You sure you don’t want to go back to Vancouver with Quill?” He looked at me, a mild twitch playing at the corners of his mouth like he was trying to keep from smiling.

  Interesting. Quill left? He’d come in with me last night, although he stayed upstairs with the other Scars. He’d probably told them what happened at the compound. I was betting it was Anstice who warned him to leave before Waleron found out. Pussy.

  I ignored Jedrik and shoved a strip of bacon in my mouth.

  “She tell you anything about what the hell that place was besides a Scar testing laboratory? Ryker is too f
ucked up and can’t tell us anything.” Jedrik shook his head. “Friggin’ guy has completely lost it. Maybe when we talk to her, she can—”

  “No one goes near her.” My fork clattered on my plate as I dropped it. Just the thought of Rayne being interrogated sent my pulse racing.

  Jedrik continued, “She has to know something about why the CWOs were there and—”

  I slammed my fist down on the table and Jedrik grabbed his juice before it toppled over. “Leave her the fuck alone. She is screwed up enough and doesn’t need us grilling her.”

  “Fuck, man. It’s just a few questions.”

  “That she isn’t answering. The CWOs are dead. Compound is gone. End of story.” Yesterday, I remember thinking I’d ask her myself about the compound and hand her over to Waleron to get her memory erased.

  Shit changed. Couldn’t do it.

  “Waleron might have something to say about that,” Hack mumbled.

  “Kilter, we’re on the same team here.” Anstice kept her lyrical voice low. “You can trust us with her.”

  “I don’t have to do shit, and I’m not on any fuckin’ team.”

  “Okay,” Anstice said, putting her coffee mug with the profile picture of a Newfoundland down on the table. “But it might be a good idea for us to meet her—no questions—” her eyes shot to Jedrik and he shrugged “—before Waleron gets here. And you know he will hear about this soon.”

  I did. I suspected he already knew since the Wraiths did, and they’d have contacted him about it. Waleron was a mystery though. On occasion, he’d disappear for weeks and no one knew where the hell he went.

  “Here.” Anstice leaned over the table, grabbed another plate, and set it on the table beside me. “Why don’t you see if she’ll join us for breakfast? I promise, no questions. She’ll feel more comfortable staying here if she meets us.”

  Fine. I pushed back from the table and headed downstairs. I paused outside her door—my bedroom door—and took a few deep breaths, waiting until my fists uncurled and the adrenaline pumping through me eased.

  I opened the door.

  My eyes hit her and the air sucked from my lungs.

  The small ground-level window was open and the breeze rushed through the room in a cold embrace. Rayne stood with her back to me, strands of her hair gently swaying from the breeze, arms wrapped around her chest. Her head tilted up at a slight angle as if she was listening to the sounds from outside.

  For the first time since I’d met her, she looked peaceful—eyes closed, lips slightly parted, and no crease between her eyes. She was a fuckin’ angel, and I was the devil ready to break her from the magnificence.

  “Come upstairs and eat,” I said.

  The second I spoke, the peacefulness vanished as she looked at me and stiffened.

  Then her head bowed as she said hesitantly, “I’m not really hungry.”

  Fuck that. “Wasn’t giving you a choice.”

  Her head snapped up.

  My brows lifted when I saw the brief flick of anger in her narrowed eyes. So, she did have a backbone in that waif’s body. Good, she’d need it.

  It was like watching a balloon deflate as her eyes lowered from mine and her shoulders sagged forward. “Okay.”

  Jesus, this chick needed a lesson in how to be a bitch.

  Kilter kept his hand on my lower back as we walked upstairs. He guided me through the kitchen into a dining room, and I immediately noticed the expensive antique furniture.

  Scars were immortal, or so Anton had told me, and it was obvious some of the stuff was centuries old. I was by no means worldly, but Anton liked antiques, and on occasion, he let me pick out things on the internet, when he was monitoring of course.

  I suspected he had another home somewhere because the items never came to the compound and sometimes Anton would be gone for months at a time.

  I liked when he was gone. I liked it even more when Ben went with him. If they both left, Roarke stayed and I kind of liked him. He often tried to shield me from Ben’s cruelty, and he’d be gentle when I’d been forced to do that experiment with him.

  “Babe?” Kilter nodded to the oblong wooden table and my heart raced when I noticed the three Scars, at least I assumed they were Scars, watching me.

  Walking out the front door sounded really appealing right now. The Wraith woman said I could and no one would stop me. And go where? I had no friends, family, or money. Nothing.

  “You will not leave,” Kilter said in a low growl next to my ear.

  I gasped, eyes widening. He’d read my mind? He managed to get through my blocks?

  “See your surprise, babe. Yeah, we can read most people’s thoughts when they’re not being blocked. Yours have been pretty much blocked. Not often humans can block us,” he explained while his thumb casually stroked my back. “I told you, no one will harm you here.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that.

  He raised his hand and cupped my chin, guiding my head back to meet his eyes. “One day you won’t fear me.” His hand fell away and he whispered, “The Scars want to meet you. Don’t worry, they are harmless kittens.”

  Kittens have sharp claws and sharper teeth.

  Kilter’s brows rose, and I was surprised to see a look of amusement, but he didn’t say anything.

  I concentrated on blocking out my thoughts again. When I was weak, it was difficult to keep the shield around them, but I’d managed it at the compound. It was obvious Kilter was stronger than anyone there, plus he was a Scar.

  He guided me toward the table and stopped.

  “Hey, I’m Anstice.” I turned my attention to the young woman smiling at me.

  “Ah, hi,” I replied.

  “That’s Jedrik.” Anstice nodded to the guy with blond curls, stark blue eyes, and ridiculously deep dimples who sat beside her. “And that’s Hack, Keir’s brother. Keir is my maite. My husband. You’ll meet him later.”

  Hack had soft features and wide, round eyes with long, black lashes. He wore glasses and had a kind smile, which made him look safe.

  The woman, Anstice, was exceptionally beautiful with flaming red curls, still damp from a shower, hanging over her shoulders. Her complexion was fair with the odd freckle sprinkled across the bridge of her petite nose. Her green eyes were intense and captivating and yet had softness.

  She nodded to the floor beside her chair. “And that’s Finn. Loves food and hugs in that order.” I glanced over at the big, black ball of fur sprawled out on his side, his tongue hanging out and resting on the floor as he snored.

  Kilter pulled out a chair. “Sit.”

  I sat.

  He picked up the plate in front of me and proceeded to fill it with scrambled eggs, several pieces of toast, bacon, sausages, slices of cheese, and tomato. Then he placed the heaping plate down in front of me.

  “Frig, Kilter, even I can’t eat that much,” Jedrik said as he winked at me. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to sit at the table until it’s all gone. Some of us are normal.” He shoved the last of his bacon into his mouth and spoke while tapping his fork in the air. “Well, I for one want to apologize,” he paused, swallowing, “for not getting you out of that place. Kilter didn’t tell any of us he was going. He thinks he’s Batman and needs to save the day all by himself.”

  “Quill was there,” Kilter muttered as he poured me a glass of orange juice.

  “Only because you needed an explosive expert,” Jedrik retorted.

  Kilter shrugged.

  Hack said, “We could’ve helped.”

  “Obviously, didn’t need it,” Kilter replied.

  Anstice piped in, “Well, it’s done, so we’ll deal with the consequences.”

  “Yeah, Waleron,” Hack muttered.

  There were a few minutes of silence with a subtle tension in the air.

  “Umm, who is Batman?” I asked.

  Everyone’s eyes darted to me. Hack had his sandwich halfway to his mouth; Jedrik’s fork paused in midair, and Anstice’s brows rose with surpri
se. Kilter was the only one whose expression stayed the same.

  “Superhero,” Jedrik said. “Bat cave. Bat mobile. Wears all black. Kicks serious ass.” I shook my head. “Not much TV in that place, eh?”

  “Not really.” Anton didn’t allow me any newspapers or television. He said it would rot my mind with lies. More like he wanted to be certain he controlled what I read. The teachers he’d hired when I was growing up were given a strict protocol of what to teach me.

  Jedrik grinned. “No worries. We’ll fix that. We have thousands of movies downstairs and a huge big screen with surround sound. Anstice can take you after breakfast.”

  “I’ll do it,” Kilter said.

  Hack snorted.

  “Kilter, maybe she’d be more comfortable with another woman?” Anstice said.

  Kilter shifted his food around on his plate, lips pursed together. When he met my gaze, he nodded to my plate. “Eat something.”

  Everyone thought it was so easy to eat. Bite, crunch, chew, and swallow. Putting food in my mouth was like handing over the keys to my soul. It was easier to suffer. Safer. It didn’t hurt anyone but me, and it gave me control, something I’d never had in my life. The only time I lost that control was when Anton drugged me and forced food in me.

  That was when despair was the greatest. Total loss of my life.

  I shuffled the food around on my plate, but I couldn’t eat. I was never hungry anymore; my stomach was so accustomed to being empty that the sensation had disappeared.

  “Fuck,” Kilter mumbled then dropped his fork on his plate, got up from the table, kicked his chair aside, and left the room.

  A part of me wanted to rush after him. And do what? Lie and tell him I’d eat. I was caught in this web of mind play that I knew was killing me, but hiding who I was became more important than living.

  “If you choose not to eat, that’s your choice, Rayne,” Anstice said. She half-smiled and tilted her head, and a long lock of red hair fell against her right cheek. “And I know it will take time, but we’re here to help. You’re free now.”