Hi, many thanks to everyone who reviewed, you spurred me on to write this
next chapter Well, after the very many assignments I had been buried
under.
But I'm alive again and on holiday and hopefully the other chapters won't be too long in coming. Hum, again, I'm not sure how you'll react to this one. Suggestions, ideas, abuse? Please let me know!
Amber-rules – Thanks so much for reviewing, yes I seem to have this thing for twists lately. Hope you enjoy this chapter!
Xhianglian – I saw your 'please update soon' and sat down to write immediately! Sorry to keep you waiting, I really appreciated your reviews, thanks!
Sharmeen – Hehe, yeah I get a little squeamish about writing in too much detail about sex, well, it's a story, it's not porn. Thanks for the idea, I kind of took you up on it, but read on and tell me what you think of Haydan now? It's true that Shane still gets the brunt of it, but Haydan's no innocent either. (Think that was established a long time ago anyhow) Hmm, I'm conflicted about Haydan. /Ah! Where's my chocolate!/
Damn, they took away all my stars and squiggly lines!!! How about - - - abc - - - for mindspeak and /abcd / for emphasis? Why did they do that!!
CHAPTER 10
Lucas sensed movement before they approached his cell. It was almost a sixth sense after being in the darkness for so long, all his hearing was heightened, sensitized to the slightest sound, sniff, wheeze. These footsteps he didn't recognize. Not the slow, ploddering steps of the heavy guard that 'fed' them each day, if 'fed' was an apt word to describe the barely edible mush they got. And there were many footsteps, this time.
Was it the execution, then? Was the next time he saw the light of day the day he died? His door screeched open, and the footsteps marched right in, startlingly harsh against his ears. Lucas raised his head and swallowed, his mouth dry and cracked. Squinting against the aching brightness of torches he felt the light shine on him, and several indrawn breaths of surprise. He didn't – couldn't – imagine what he looked like. Trussed up for weeks, filthy, wounded, he must have looked more like a ragged savage animal than his shifter form. He half expected them to haul him to his feet, and drag him out. He half expected them to finish him right then and there. What he didn't expect was to have hands tug at his chains and hear the grating of keys in the lock. The sound of the clasp springing free was the sweetest music he had ever heard.
The weight fell off and Lucas tried to push himself up, but stumbled half way. He was too weak. "Wha. . . "
He gave his head a shake, tentatively wetted his lips and tried again. "What's happening?"
Did that croak really belong to him?
The guards drew back, and an impassive figure stepped into the light. Lucas exclaimed. Whoever he expected, this was the last face he had expected to see.
"Hello," said Haydan.
Anger, pain flaring up inside him, Lucas sprang at him, only to crash into the wall of guards that immediately closed his way. He winced in pain at the meeting of already bruised flesh against steel armor, and sank back into the floor. He cursed his physical weakness. "You!" He rasped, "You kidnapped Alexis!"
A corner of Haydan's sardonic mouth curled. "I would hardly call her a kid."
Heaving, frustrated, Lucas could only snarl. Sometimes no words were needed to express such emotions. No words were needed to explain the sentiment. It was written in every taut line of his body, the fury in his clenched teeth and trembling fists.
Haydan only looked at him, slow, measuring, his head tilted as he considered the shifter before him. "I am only going to say this once, so listen carefully. Am I your enemy?"
A sound between a laugh and a splutter bubbled through Lucas' lips.
Haydan's heavy, soot-black lashes lowered for a moment. "Why?" His gaze was unnerving, not so much cold and calculating and small like Lucas had thought it would be – but so steady and infinite that he could have been the only sane one in a world full of madmen.
It was . . . disconcerting.
"Council." Lucas muttered, still unable to coherently form a sentence. He hadn't spoken for what – days? Weeks?
The Dark Lord in front of him laughed, mirthless and stark. "The /Council/ is your ally? If you define you allies by the likes of Shane, then . . . well, I'm not surprised that you end up as you are now. Rotting in a cell."
The remark stung, and Lucas' green eyes narrowed with rage. After all this time, and he still hadn't gotten over Shane's betrayal. But –
But . . .
Haydan spoke the truth.
He had no personal reason to make an enemy of him except –
"Alex." Lucas said finally, ". . . Lei."
"Ahh," The dark eyes were fathomless. "I didn't touch Lei. Alex . . . I didn't hurt her. Exactly."
"Where is she." The words were soft, but there was no mistaking the importance.
There was another long silence as Haydan regarded him. Lucas had the uncomfortable feeling that those eyes pierced right through him. "If you work with me," Haydan said casually, "Then I'll give you the chance to find out."
Lucas' head snapped up in shock. "Work?"
"Only to find Shane. And the rings. I don't seek to hold you any further than that. After that, it's each man to his own."
It made sense. Lucas brooded. "Or else, what?"
Haydan shrugged noncommittally. "Or else I'll shut the door and let you starve here."
Not many people could say it without so much as an inflection – like discussing yesterday's newspaper, or asking a neighbor for a pen.
There was no competition, not really. Only one thing mattered to Lucas, and that was finding Alex. "I'll do it."
The only indication that Haydan heard was by a slight shift of his head, and two guards helped a labored Lucas to his feet and they stumbled out. By the time his eyes adjusted, Lucas saw the long hallway, punctuated by the dozen of cells with small metal slits as the only openings. His blood ran cold. The others were here too, under the price of misplaced loyalty. The price was so high. Too high.
The burden of his duty in leadership weighed heavy on his shoulders - /this/ was what he had led them to. Briefly, Lucas closed his eyes, as shame lapped over him in waves.
Missing nothing, Haydan said quietly over his shoulder. "Well, don't take the full credit for it – you were just a pawn in a much, much more complex game. Simple people like you could never outplay the masterminds."
Lucas stared at his retreating form, unsure how to react. It could have been insulting but for the tone of his voice - /simple/? The laconic voice had almost sounded - - envious.
One by one, they opened the cells. Some were empty. One only held decaying skeletons manacled to the wall, in what might have been a torture chamber. Haydan had looked impassively, despite the lurid stench that beat off the guards, and pointed to the chest – "Stake".
But in others, they found the rest of the team. Craimer, his huge form wilted and lacerated. Wounds ran along his biceps, and legs, his nose broken in three places. Lucas went in to talk with him first, and watched his expression change from hopeful, to furious, to stunned, to defeated. Lyndall, who had lost a lot of weight, looking pale and sickly, her expression numb. And Ray, charming, easygoing Ray, without his usual sparkle of life, his violet eyes bruised and dark, the mouth underneath his newly grown beard grim.
They were up to the last cell.
The last door was opened to reveal and small, huddled figure, handcuffed to a pole in the middle of the room, muttering a stream of expletives and rocking back and forth. At the noise, a face snapped around to reveal wide, accusing eyes and trembling lips.
The already pale face suddenly drained of all color.
". . . H – Haydan?"
And then, in disbelief, as one might reach out towards a mirage in the desert –
"/Lucas/?!"
A flood of emotions pouring through him, Lucas stepped forward shakily. "Alex." The name, repeated on his lips hundreds of times in the past moonless nights, suddenly hitched in his throat. And with another two steps he had her in a fierce hug, Alex slowly softening from her shock, put a careful arm around him.
When he pulled back he felt her eyes searching over him, and felt himself withdraw. He didn't want her seeing him like this –
Alex took in his longer, matted hair, the now rangy body and the welts and dried blood over his skin. Her prince – so battle worn and hurt that the only recognizable feature was the pure emerald of his eyes, shining with pain, happiness, anger – a myriad of emotions that was impossible to grasp. She laid gentle fingers on his cheek, and couldn't speak.
But there was something important –
"I . . . it was Shane, it was – "
"We know." Several voices chorused at the same time.
Completely taken aback, Alex stared at the faces that appeared behind Lucas – Ray, Lyndall, Craimer, and Haydan looking as always, dark and unfathomable. Her eyes darted from face to face, and she didn't know what to make of it.
Then Haydan stepped past her bedragged team, and unlocked her cuffs personally.
She stared at him as though he had put on a pink tutu and announced he was the next Priscilla. "You . . . you're not going to kill me?"
Haydan shrugged.
Not exactly reassuring.
"We're going after Shane." Lucas had the light of battle back in his eyes.
"B- But . . . ?"
"No Buts."
"What if . . . ?"
"No ifs."
Completely bewildered, and utterly bemused, a slight smile touched her lips.
". . . Okay." She said meekly.
- - - - - - - -
And so it was that the most unlikely crew boarded the private jet from Valera's runway. And from up in the sky, Alex looked down at the twinkling lights of the city, so deceptively innocent in the lair of the damned.
They felt a strange, bodiless ripple as the jet passed through the enchantment that enveloped the city, and felt a sense of release. It was goodbye to the flashy cars, traffickers and dusky buildings of Valera. Goodbye to the snakes and cobras and rats on two legs. Good-bloody-riddance to the cells reeking of the tang of sour sweat and damp mould. Or worse, decaying flesh.
Lyndall visibly relaxed, less withdrawn in her seat, but the experience had marked her with more coldness and more silences. They were all sullen, but occasionally there would be a flash of their old self, of Ray's mischievous grin and Craimer's strength. Lyndall had been fully healed physically by the witch doctor Haydan had summoned, but Craimer still bore deep scars. Lucas was still painfully thin compared to the Adonis figure he had before, but they were all clean and fully appreciated the luxury of clean air in a new way, let alone the cocktail bar and velvet seats of Haydan's jet.
But still conversation was muted, and Alex still confused. She sat slightly apart, just wanting some solitude, and apart from the initial hug, Lucas didn't stay especially close to her, for which she was grateful. Perhaps they both needed some space to come into terms with – things.
The "thing" in her mind came over and sat down next to her in snug black jeans and open collar Armani shirt.
Devastating. Delectable. Deadly.
Her soulmate.
/He hates being betrayed/ A voice reminded her, snatches of conversation said long ago.
For a long time neither spoke.
- - - How did you know where to find us? - - - She said finally, tentative, and careful not to touch him.
When he looked at her his gaze was unfathomable. - - - I felt your pain - - -
Simple words, startlingly so. But Alexis felt her throat close over and tears well up behind her eyes. "I'm sorry. So sorry."
She saw the slight tension in the line of his mouth and slight frown, the smooth flow of his hand up to rest his fingers on her cheek for a heartbeat of a time, before letting it drop. He turned away from her and sighed.
"I know."
He held himself with remarkable control. She couldn't decipher anything from him, not emotion, not anger, nothing. It scared her a little, the skill with which he controlled himself. From what she'd heard, soulmates could rarely hold anything back from each other, not even secrets let alone emotion.
He looked at her again, dark eyes revealing nothing, and made as if to speak. Then tightened his lips and stood up to leave.
"Wait," her hand rested lightly on his sleeve to stop him. "Where are we going? I don't understand,"
"We are following Shane."
"How do you know where he is going?" She persisted, "And don't just say 'I have my ways' again because it's not good enough."
He paused, and said slowly, "I put a tracer on my ring."
She was confused, "But why . . . ?"
He looked at her, steadily, measuring, and the impact of his words sunk in.
"You mean . . . you knew?!" Alexis stuttered, at a loss of what to feel. "All this time, you knew I was going to betray you? You put a tracer in the ring on purpose?"
"It was not the real ring."
How could he be so blasé about such a shattering revelation?
She was speechless. People around her never failed to add another twist in what had first seemed like a straightforward mission. He had planned this? He had used her to trap Shane?
"I should let you know," Haydan said calmly, at once so foreign and familiar, "my confession . . . I planned this, all of this, from the beginning."
It took a long time for her to collect herself. "Everything?"
"Everything."
"You mean," her voice quavered against her will, "You let me seduce you knowing all the time I would be bringing Shane the fake ring? You mean, you kidnapped me on purpose because of my link to Shane? You mean, you knew every f---ing thing all along and didn't tell me?"
"I only let you use me," he said quietly, deflating her anger immediately. "You would not have believed me if I tried to explain. It was the only way for Shane to believe he had gotten the best of me."
She had used him, too, and she had no right to be angry. But somehow she felt hurt – and slightly horrified. She had been used by both brothers, for a bigger game each was playing with the other.
She had thought . . . maybe he had felt something for her that night . . .
A small voice said inside her mind yelled, 'You hypocrite!'
Groaning, struggling, she put her head in her hands.
She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. "I guess we're even."
"I told you before – that this was all a game." He dropped something into her lap. It was a small scroll yellowed with age and bound together by gold threaded rope. "The prophecy."
Unable to speak, she untied the scroll with shaking fingers.
It read:
Find the place all elements meet
By Thea's Eye and immortal feet
Shed life's blood to feed the stone
Give a soul to mount the throne
Twin rings unlock the Jewel of Earth
Reach from Hell to Faery Hearth
Impure hearts, halt, beware
You'll not pass the Devil's lair
Burden of power to the Chosen will go
And the world will go on, so soft and slow.
He leaned down to explain, "This place is a small island where the Faery Throne used to be – In the city of Thea. I have the prophecy, Shane got the map. The rest of it . . . well, I'll guess we'll understand better when the time comes."
He had known, all the time, he had known. All the time, his agitation, his concerns, his threats and anger. He knew when Shane had sent that letter. He knew she would betray his trust – he set it up. This was why his guards feared him. This was why Lei had said, /"Most bad guys have some form of conscience – it's something I've always believed in. It makes them crack, falter or make mistakes. He makes me question that belief."/
Alexis shivered.
What sort of a person was he, really? What would he do with that power? Was there hidden cruelty, like Shane? Or was there something good buried underneath that godlike control?
Haydan's dark eyes rested on her, as if he knew her confusion, knew the struggle she was in. She thought he might try to justify it. Remind her how Shane had betrayed them. How Shane had locked them all up cruelly and left them to starve.
But he didn't.
He patted her hand gently, his fingers more warm and caressing than she felt they had any right to be. Slowly, deliberately, he traced a path along her cheek and his voice was low as he said, "You cried when you left me."
He'd been – awake? Alex's heart flopped in half horror, half joy. In her minds eye she remembered that single tear, sliding down her cheek and dropping on his own as she leant over him.
"Goodnight, little one," he whispered, and left.
She tried not to notice the way his breath had stirred her hair and the goosebumps it left in its wake.
The empty seat next to her made her aware of just how alone she felt.
Behind them, Lucas watched. Watched, and frowned.
But I'm alive again and on holiday and hopefully the other chapters won't be too long in coming. Hum, again, I'm not sure how you'll react to this one. Suggestions, ideas, abuse? Please let me know!
Amber-rules – Thanks so much for reviewing, yes I seem to have this thing for twists lately. Hope you enjoy this chapter!
Xhianglian – I saw your 'please update soon' and sat down to write immediately! Sorry to keep you waiting, I really appreciated your reviews, thanks!
Sharmeen – Hehe, yeah I get a little squeamish about writing in too much detail about sex, well, it's a story, it's not porn. Thanks for the idea, I kind of took you up on it, but read on and tell me what you think of Haydan now? It's true that Shane still gets the brunt of it, but Haydan's no innocent either. (Think that was established a long time ago anyhow) Hmm, I'm conflicted about Haydan. /Ah! Where's my chocolate!/
Damn, they took away all my stars and squiggly lines!!! How about - - - abc - - - for mindspeak and /abcd / for emphasis? Why did they do that!!
CHAPTER 10
Lucas sensed movement before they approached his cell. It was almost a sixth sense after being in the darkness for so long, all his hearing was heightened, sensitized to the slightest sound, sniff, wheeze. These footsteps he didn't recognize. Not the slow, ploddering steps of the heavy guard that 'fed' them each day, if 'fed' was an apt word to describe the barely edible mush they got. And there were many footsteps, this time.
Was it the execution, then? Was the next time he saw the light of day the day he died? His door screeched open, and the footsteps marched right in, startlingly harsh against his ears. Lucas raised his head and swallowed, his mouth dry and cracked. Squinting against the aching brightness of torches he felt the light shine on him, and several indrawn breaths of surprise. He didn't – couldn't – imagine what he looked like. Trussed up for weeks, filthy, wounded, he must have looked more like a ragged savage animal than his shifter form. He half expected them to haul him to his feet, and drag him out. He half expected them to finish him right then and there. What he didn't expect was to have hands tug at his chains and hear the grating of keys in the lock. The sound of the clasp springing free was the sweetest music he had ever heard.
The weight fell off and Lucas tried to push himself up, but stumbled half way. He was too weak. "Wha. . . "
He gave his head a shake, tentatively wetted his lips and tried again. "What's happening?"
Did that croak really belong to him?
The guards drew back, and an impassive figure stepped into the light. Lucas exclaimed. Whoever he expected, this was the last face he had expected to see.
"Hello," said Haydan.
Anger, pain flaring up inside him, Lucas sprang at him, only to crash into the wall of guards that immediately closed his way. He winced in pain at the meeting of already bruised flesh against steel armor, and sank back into the floor. He cursed his physical weakness. "You!" He rasped, "You kidnapped Alexis!"
A corner of Haydan's sardonic mouth curled. "I would hardly call her a kid."
Heaving, frustrated, Lucas could only snarl. Sometimes no words were needed to express such emotions. No words were needed to explain the sentiment. It was written in every taut line of his body, the fury in his clenched teeth and trembling fists.
Haydan only looked at him, slow, measuring, his head tilted as he considered the shifter before him. "I am only going to say this once, so listen carefully. Am I your enemy?"
A sound between a laugh and a splutter bubbled through Lucas' lips.
Haydan's heavy, soot-black lashes lowered for a moment. "Why?" His gaze was unnerving, not so much cold and calculating and small like Lucas had thought it would be – but so steady and infinite that he could have been the only sane one in a world full of madmen.
It was . . . disconcerting.
"Council." Lucas muttered, still unable to coherently form a sentence. He hadn't spoken for what – days? Weeks?
The Dark Lord in front of him laughed, mirthless and stark. "The /Council/ is your ally? If you define you allies by the likes of Shane, then . . . well, I'm not surprised that you end up as you are now. Rotting in a cell."
The remark stung, and Lucas' green eyes narrowed with rage. After all this time, and he still hadn't gotten over Shane's betrayal. But –
But . . .
Haydan spoke the truth.
He had no personal reason to make an enemy of him except –
"Alex." Lucas said finally, ". . . Lei."
"Ahh," The dark eyes were fathomless. "I didn't touch Lei. Alex . . . I didn't hurt her. Exactly."
"Where is she." The words were soft, but there was no mistaking the importance.
There was another long silence as Haydan regarded him. Lucas had the uncomfortable feeling that those eyes pierced right through him. "If you work with me," Haydan said casually, "Then I'll give you the chance to find out."
Lucas' head snapped up in shock. "Work?"
"Only to find Shane. And the rings. I don't seek to hold you any further than that. After that, it's each man to his own."
It made sense. Lucas brooded. "Or else, what?"
Haydan shrugged noncommittally. "Or else I'll shut the door and let you starve here."
Not many people could say it without so much as an inflection – like discussing yesterday's newspaper, or asking a neighbor for a pen.
There was no competition, not really. Only one thing mattered to Lucas, and that was finding Alex. "I'll do it."
The only indication that Haydan heard was by a slight shift of his head, and two guards helped a labored Lucas to his feet and they stumbled out. By the time his eyes adjusted, Lucas saw the long hallway, punctuated by the dozen of cells with small metal slits as the only openings. His blood ran cold. The others were here too, under the price of misplaced loyalty. The price was so high. Too high.
The burden of his duty in leadership weighed heavy on his shoulders - /this/ was what he had led them to. Briefly, Lucas closed his eyes, as shame lapped over him in waves.
Missing nothing, Haydan said quietly over his shoulder. "Well, don't take the full credit for it – you were just a pawn in a much, much more complex game. Simple people like you could never outplay the masterminds."
Lucas stared at his retreating form, unsure how to react. It could have been insulting but for the tone of his voice - /simple/? The laconic voice had almost sounded - - envious.
One by one, they opened the cells. Some were empty. One only held decaying skeletons manacled to the wall, in what might have been a torture chamber. Haydan had looked impassively, despite the lurid stench that beat off the guards, and pointed to the chest – "Stake".
But in others, they found the rest of the team. Craimer, his huge form wilted and lacerated. Wounds ran along his biceps, and legs, his nose broken in three places. Lucas went in to talk with him first, and watched his expression change from hopeful, to furious, to stunned, to defeated. Lyndall, who had lost a lot of weight, looking pale and sickly, her expression numb. And Ray, charming, easygoing Ray, without his usual sparkle of life, his violet eyes bruised and dark, the mouth underneath his newly grown beard grim.
They were up to the last cell.
The last door was opened to reveal and small, huddled figure, handcuffed to a pole in the middle of the room, muttering a stream of expletives and rocking back and forth. At the noise, a face snapped around to reveal wide, accusing eyes and trembling lips.
The already pale face suddenly drained of all color.
". . . H – Haydan?"
And then, in disbelief, as one might reach out towards a mirage in the desert –
"/Lucas/?!"
A flood of emotions pouring through him, Lucas stepped forward shakily. "Alex." The name, repeated on his lips hundreds of times in the past moonless nights, suddenly hitched in his throat. And with another two steps he had her in a fierce hug, Alex slowly softening from her shock, put a careful arm around him.
When he pulled back he felt her eyes searching over him, and felt himself withdraw. He didn't want her seeing him like this –
Alex took in his longer, matted hair, the now rangy body and the welts and dried blood over his skin. Her prince – so battle worn and hurt that the only recognizable feature was the pure emerald of his eyes, shining with pain, happiness, anger – a myriad of emotions that was impossible to grasp. She laid gentle fingers on his cheek, and couldn't speak.
But there was something important –
"I . . . it was Shane, it was – "
"We know." Several voices chorused at the same time.
Completely taken aback, Alex stared at the faces that appeared behind Lucas – Ray, Lyndall, Craimer, and Haydan looking as always, dark and unfathomable. Her eyes darted from face to face, and she didn't know what to make of it.
Then Haydan stepped past her bedragged team, and unlocked her cuffs personally.
She stared at him as though he had put on a pink tutu and announced he was the next Priscilla. "You . . . you're not going to kill me?"
Haydan shrugged.
Not exactly reassuring.
"We're going after Shane." Lucas had the light of battle back in his eyes.
"B- But . . . ?"
"No Buts."
"What if . . . ?"
"No ifs."
Completely bewildered, and utterly bemused, a slight smile touched her lips.
". . . Okay." She said meekly.
- - - - - - - -
And so it was that the most unlikely crew boarded the private jet from Valera's runway. And from up in the sky, Alex looked down at the twinkling lights of the city, so deceptively innocent in the lair of the damned.
They felt a strange, bodiless ripple as the jet passed through the enchantment that enveloped the city, and felt a sense of release. It was goodbye to the flashy cars, traffickers and dusky buildings of Valera. Goodbye to the snakes and cobras and rats on two legs. Good-bloody-riddance to the cells reeking of the tang of sour sweat and damp mould. Or worse, decaying flesh.
Lyndall visibly relaxed, less withdrawn in her seat, but the experience had marked her with more coldness and more silences. They were all sullen, but occasionally there would be a flash of their old self, of Ray's mischievous grin and Craimer's strength. Lyndall had been fully healed physically by the witch doctor Haydan had summoned, but Craimer still bore deep scars. Lucas was still painfully thin compared to the Adonis figure he had before, but they were all clean and fully appreciated the luxury of clean air in a new way, let alone the cocktail bar and velvet seats of Haydan's jet.
But still conversation was muted, and Alex still confused. She sat slightly apart, just wanting some solitude, and apart from the initial hug, Lucas didn't stay especially close to her, for which she was grateful. Perhaps they both needed some space to come into terms with – things.
The "thing" in her mind came over and sat down next to her in snug black jeans and open collar Armani shirt.
Devastating. Delectable. Deadly.
Her soulmate.
/He hates being betrayed/ A voice reminded her, snatches of conversation said long ago.
For a long time neither spoke.
- - - How did you know where to find us? - - - She said finally, tentative, and careful not to touch him.
When he looked at her his gaze was unfathomable. - - - I felt your pain - - -
Simple words, startlingly so. But Alexis felt her throat close over and tears well up behind her eyes. "I'm sorry. So sorry."
She saw the slight tension in the line of his mouth and slight frown, the smooth flow of his hand up to rest his fingers on her cheek for a heartbeat of a time, before letting it drop. He turned away from her and sighed.
"I know."
He held himself with remarkable control. She couldn't decipher anything from him, not emotion, not anger, nothing. It scared her a little, the skill with which he controlled himself. From what she'd heard, soulmates could rarely hold anything back from each other, not even secrets let alone emotion.
He looked at her again, dark eyes revealing nothing, and made as if to speak. Then tightened his lips and stood up to leave.
"Wait," her hand rested lightly on his sleeve to stop him. "Where are we going? I don't understand,"
"We are following Shane."
"How do you know where he is going?" She persisted, "And don't just say 'I have my ways' again because it's not good enough."
He paused, and said slowly, "I put a tracer on my ring."
She was confused, "But why . . . ?"
He looked at her, steadily, measuring, and the impact of his words sunk in.
"You mean . . . you knew?!" Alexis stuttered, at a loss of what to feel. "All this time, you knew I was going to betray you? You put a tracer in the ring on purpose?"
"It was not the real ring."
How could he be so blasé about such a shattering revelation?
She was speechless. People around her never failed to add another twist in what had first seemed like a straightforward mission. He had planned this? He had used her to trap Shane?
"I should let you know," Haydan said calmly, at once so foreign and familiar, "my confession . . . I planned this, all of this, from the beginning."
It took a long time for her to collect herself. "Everything?"
"Everything."
"You mean," her voice quavered against her will, "You let me seduce you knowing all the time I would be bringing Shane the fake ring? You mean, you kidnapped me on purpose because of my link to Shane? You mean, you knew every f---ing thing all along and didn't tell me?"
"I only let you use me," he said quietly, deflating her anger immediately. "You would not have believed me if I tried to explain. It was the only way for Shane to believe he had gotten the best of me."
She had used him, too, and she had no right to be angry. But somehow she felt hurt – and slightly horrified. She had been used by both brothers, for a bigger game each was playing with the other.
She had thought . . . maybe he had felt something for her that night . . .
A small voice said inside her mind yelled, 'You hypocrite!'
Groaning, struggling, she put her head in her hands.
She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. "I guess we're even."
"I told you before – that this was all a game." He dropped something into her lap. It was a small scroll yellowed with age and bound together by gold threaded rope. "The prophecy."
Unable to speak, she untied the scroll with shaking fingers.
It read:
Find the place all elements meet
By Thea's Eye and immortal feet
Shed life's blood to feed the stone
Give a soul to mount the throne
Twin rings unlock the Jewel of Earth
Reach from Hell to Faery Hearth
Impure hearts, halt, beware
You'll not pass the Devil's lair
Burden of power to the Chosen will go
And the world will go on, so soft and slow.
He leaned down to explain, "This place is a small island where the Faery Throne used to be – In the city of Thea. I have the prophecy, Shane got the map. The rest of it . . . well, I'll guess we'll understand better when the time comes."
He had known, all the time, he had known. All the time, his agitation, his concerns, his threats and anger. He knew when Shane had sent that letter. He knew she would betray his trust – he set it up. This was why his guards feared him. This was why Lei had said, /"Most bad guys have some form of conscience – it's something I've always believed in. It makes them crack, falter or make mistakes. He makes me question that belief."/
Alexis shivered.
What sort of a person was he, really? What would he do with that power? Was there hidden cruelty, like Shane? Or was there something good buried underneath that godlike control?
Haydan's dark eyes rested on her, as if he knew her confusion, knew the struggle she was in. She thought he might try to justify it. Remind her how Shane had betrayed them. How Shane had locked them all up cruelly and left them to starve.
But he didn't.
He patted her hand gently, his fingers more warm and caressing than she felt they had any right to be. Slowly, deliberately, he traced a path along her cheek and his voice was low as he said, "You cried when you left me."
He'd been – awake? Alex's heart flopped in half horror, half joy. In her minds eye she remembered that single tear, sliding down her cheek and dropping on his own as she leant over him.
"Goodnight, little one," he whispered, and left.
She tried not to notice the way his breath had stirred her hair and the goosebumps it left in its wake.
The empty seat next to her made her aware of just how alone she felt.
Behind them, Lucas watched. Watched, and frowned.
