My Soul To Take (10 page)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Xan pushed his way into the food tent where nearly everyone was gathered, despite the freezing temperatures, to celebrate Daniella's sixth birthday. He hadn’t planned on attending, but after the morning he’d had, he would do anything to keep his mind off what he’d done. After Onyx had left his trailer, he had made a promise to himself. Actually, several promises. First, he was done with the heavy drinking. Second, he was done with the women. All of them. Third, he was done feeling sorry for himself. From now own, he was going to make a valiant effort to start pulling his weight around camp. The clan had been more than generous, allowing him to wallow for as long as he had. He hadn’t been the only Gypsy who had lost family and friends, far from it. It was time to man up and start doing his part.

Shoving past the thick crowd of celebrators, he finally reached Daniella.

“Happy Birthday, fată,” he said softly, placing a purple beaded necklace he had made for
her
, around Daniella’s neck. She fingered the small wooden beads, grinning.

“These are Trinny's,” she said, looking curiously up at him.

“Yeah,” he choked out. “And she loves you. They’re from her, too.”

“I want to look like her when I grow up,” she continued. ”Do you think I will?”

God, he really hoped not. It was hard enough thinking about her…

“Yep,” he said quickly. Giving her a quick kiss on her messy mop of brown hair, he headed straight for Gunnar.

“Gimme,” he said, taking his canteen and chugging down the nastiest fermented fruit and yeast concoction he had ever tasted. He would ease up on the booze…tomorrow.

Becki appeared out of nowhere. “You came. I'm glad.”

He ignored her. Mostly because she had this annoying habit of knowing how he was feeling just by looking at him and the last thing he wanted was her to figure out what he’d done today and who he had done it with.

“Hey,
fată,” Nico drawled, sidling up next to Becki and draping his arm over her shoulders.

She swatted him. “Don’t touch me.”

“But you’re so…” He smacked his lips at her. “Touchable.”

“Don’t talk to me either,” she hissed.

He grinned. “I don’t want to talk to you, I want to touch you.” He bent his head down and whispered against her neck, “Everywhere.”

Becki’s pupils dilated and a small shiver shook her. Fata could pretend she wasn’t affected by Nico but the body doesn’t lie.

“Mmm-hmm. Baby, I know you want it.
I know I sure as hell want it
. Last time was so damn hot.”

Last time? Gaping at them, the cigarette he’d been in the process of lighting slipped from between his lips and fell into the soft dusting of snow that had blown inside the food tent.

Becki shoved him off her. “That’s irrelevant, Nico. If you want to get laid I’m sure Mags will be happy to accommodate you.”

Nico frowned. “But I don’t want Mags.”

She scowled. “You did last night.”

“She kissed me,” he protested.

“You kissed her back,” Becki reminded him.

Nico looked affronted. “I’m only human.”

While Becki contemplated ways to castrate Nico, Xan leaned over and whispered in his friend’s ear, “Frate, you keep talking and you’re not gonna have a cock to fuck her with.”

Nico shut up. Wise.

“To Daniella!” Tobar shouted.

“To Daniella!” The clan answered.

Two clan members held open the tent flaps and Aishe strode in carrying a homemade cake. Nothing fancy. No frosting, no candles, just a plain, bare, rectangle of cake that he suspected had very little sugar in it, if any at all. But Daniella didn’t care. She looked damn happy and that was all that really mattered anyway.

“Cine să trăiască?”
They all sang.

“
Cine să trăiască?

La mulţi ani!

Daniella să trăiască!

Danielle să trăiască!

La mulţă ani!”

“Xan?” Fifi walked up to their small group, her hands on her hips.
“Guess what Loiza just told me?”

“That he’s a faggot?” he guessed.

Her eyes narrowed. “No. That he saw Onyx leaving your trailer today.”

Oh. Crap.

“Mind your own business,” he growled, turning away from her. Before he could stop her, she pushed up his hooded sweatshirt and t-shirt, exposing his back. His bruised, bitten and shredded back.

“You’re disgusting!” she screamed, drawing the attention of everyone in the tent. “You’re so damn messed up, you’re fucking Onyx? What the fuck is happening to you?”

What was happening to him? For one, he was pretty sure he was losing his mind. Two, he was definitely losing his mind. And three, he’d probably already lost his mind and was too insane to realize it.

“What?” Becki screeched, pushing Nico out of her way to get to him. Her hand cracked across on the side of his face and his head went flying to his left.

“You have no idea what happened to Trinity!” she hissed. “Not really! Gerik took her! Snatched her up and flew off with her! He could have set her on fire or ate her or is hiding her in a cave for all we know! Yet you continue to mope around, acting like it was her who wronged you and destroying yourself because of it! Onyx? Really, Xan? How could you stoop so low? She tried to kill Trinity! She tried to kill the woman you supposedly loved!”

Supposedly? Loved? Try loves, will always love!

“Who are you kidding?” he roared. “She left with Gerik, she’s with Gerik! And for fuck's sake, stop saying her fucking name!”

“TRINITY!” she screamed. “Trinity, Trinity, Trinity, Trinity!”

Blinding rage powered through him and, without thinking, he lunged for Becki. Nico’s fist cut him off and sent him sprawling on his back.

“You fucking psychopath!” Nico roared, towering over him. “You hit pregnant women now?”

The entire tent had gone eerily silent and clan members were openly gaping at him. He looked around meeting each one of their disappointed stares. Shame like he’d never felt before enveloped him.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry,
surioară,” he croaked, blinking up at Becki. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I would never…I didn’t mean….” He slammed his fists down into his thighs. “Fuck. I’m so goddamn sorry, Becki.”

Pushing a reluctant Nico out of her way, she knelt down beside h
im and grabbed his hand.

“I love you, Xan,” she whispered. “But this has got to stop. Trinity isn’t here to know what you are doing. Trying to hurt her is only hurting you and the people who love you.”

“Now that’s where you’re wrong, fată,” Marko said, stepping around Stefan and Aishe to stand before him. “Trinity knows exactly what her loving husband has been doing and she was damn sure hurting when I told her all about it.”

Confused, he blinked up at Marko.

Smirking, Marko reached into his coat and pulled out a gun.

“Merry Christmas, frate, from your whore of a wife.”

The gun landed in his lap and for a moment, he could only stare.

It was
her
gun.

His shaking hand closed around the rhodium-plated piece with a custom finger grooved grip, custom made for her fingers. Turning it over, he found the engraving,
Trinity, fata mea
, worn but still visible.

He looked up at Marko, saw the anger glittering in his eyes and the malicious grin on his face and his stomach sank. The hospital. She had been there. He had been right all along.

His heart pounding, he swayed sideways, suddenly sweating and feeling nauseous. Becki’s face came in and out of view.

“Xan? Xan! Are you going to be sick?”

He shook his head as if to clear it. Why did she sound so far away?

“Frate!” Someone shook him.

“Xan!” That sounded like Nico, but he, too, sounded far away.

“Where did you get Trinity’s gun?” someone shouted.

Instead of answering, Marko bent down in front of him. “You know where, don’t you?” he sneered. “Kicker is, Trinity left roughly twenty minutes before you showed up.”

“You stupid fuck!” Becki cried out.

“Fată,” Marko said. “That’s not even the best part. According to Trinity, Gerik left her; he dumped her in the woods the same day as the attack in the Catskills and never came back for her. You know what that means don’t you?”

Becki gasped, clearly horrifie
d.

Clan members cried out in shock.

Gerik? Left her? Never came back?

He swallowed hard, unable to speak.

“Your wife has been alone since the end of summer, Deleanu.
Summer.
That’s a long fucking time. It would be a damn miracle if she’s survived this long.”

Nico stepped forward and yanked Marko to his feet before introducing his face to his killer right hook. Marko fell backwards into the crowd of scattering people and hit the ground with a heavy thud.

Ignoring the shocked cries and curses that were circulating throughout the tent, ignoring Becki and Fifi’s attempts at coddling him, he stood up, shoved Trinity’s gun in the back of his pants and left. His chest was aching. It felt like his heart had grown too big for his body, had broken through his ribcage and was threatening to tear through his skin.

“Xan!”

He stopped walking and allowed Tobar to catch up to him.

“Did you know?”

Tobar looked down. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I should have told you.”

“What exactly did that asshole tell her?” he demanded.

Tobar’s shoulders sagged. “That I don’t know. When the hospital started to collapse, Marko and I got separated. By the time I’d made it to the other side of the building, Trinity was well across the parking lot and Marko tackled me to keep me from going after her.

“Did she…was she…?” he trailed off, feeling sick again.

“She looked alright,” Tobar said softly. “From what I could tell, she appeared healthy and strong.”

He nodded dumbly. He understood why Marko had told her what he’d been up to. An eye for an eye and all that. For that, he couldn’t fault him. What he could fault him for was leaving her out there, knowing the dangers she was facing and letting her continue facing them alone. Her
magic was unstable as all hell; the hospital proved that much. It also proved she had been forced to go raiding alone. Alone.

He knew firsthand how dangerous that could be when you were swarmed by Skins,
magic or not. As for finding shelter, a place to safely spend the night was nearly impossible. Fuck. How had she made it that long? Worse yet, was she still alive? The odds against her were stacked a mile fucking high.

His head a little clearer, he stormed back inside the food tent, his piece drawn. Clan members parted, making way for him, some even left. Smart.

“Xan,” Stefan said, stepping in front of him. “I know you’re angry and you have every right to be, but more violence won’t solve anything.”

“Two wrongs don’t make a right, right Stefan?” he said. “And that’s good, because beating that motherfucker’s face in seems pretty right to me.”

Stefan nodded wearily. Yeah, not even Stefan was going to try to talk him down. Marko deserved a good beating and even cool and collected Stefan knew it.

“MARKO!” he bellowed, looking around. “Get your pussy ass over here!”

Marko appeared at his right. “Fuck you, Deleanu!” he spat.

He lunged, grabbed a choking hold around Marko’s neck and shoved his fist into the asshole’s belly. Several times, over and over again until he couldn’t stand up without help. Grabbing his face, he forced Marko to look at him. “I should fucking kill you,” he hissed.

"I’m already dead,” he spat back. “You saw to that when you took away the only person that had made me happy.” And didn’t that sound familiar? “The way I see it, asshole, we’re even now,” Marko croaked.

“Not even close,” he hissed and shoved him. Marko dropped to the ground in a groaning heap and then he swung his steel-toed shit-kicker straight into frate’s ribcage. And because he was who he was, and to be thorough, Xan sent his boot straight into the motherfucker’s balls. He’d never claimed to fight fair. As far as he was concerned, there were no lines you had to worry about crossing when it came to fighting. A man did what he had to do, no matter what it took, to get where he needed to be. And when you fucked with another's man life, fucked with the woman he loved, well then, all bets were off anyway.

“Feel that fucking pain, Marko? The way I see it, we’re a little closer to even now.”

He turned to go and found himself surrounded.

“Get the fuck out of my way!” he roared to several men who had stepped forward to…do what? Take him out? Naw. They knew better. He would take them all on and he would fucking win.

Shaking out his fist, he walked straight across camp, not stopping until he had locked himself inside of his trailer. He looked around his tiny home. His Trinity was alone. Without him. Alone.