Stormfront (Undertow Book 2) (35 page)

Was I scared that my life-clock might be ticking towards midnight? Absolutely. But life g
ave us no guarantees when we were born. There is nothing that says that I get to live past tomorrow, even if I was just human. “Raef – I live for today. For you and me and our friends. This knowledge changes nothing for me, only that the future is a complete gamble and that I wouldn’t bet on anyone else but us. All of us.”

I slowly shut the diary and slid it to Christian, the necklace still in the cover. He gave me a small smile, knowing I was offering him a chance to read Elizabeth’s thoughts in private. I got to my feet, with Raef at my side. “I’m done with the heavy. How about we enjoy ourselves? This is a party after all. Now
, who’s gonna dance with me?”

“Me!” yelled MJ, grabbing me by the hand and towing me toward the open space near the pool. I laughed as he started dancing like a weirdo next to me as
Ana flicked on the stereo. Kian slipped his hand into hers and he pulled her toward us, spinning her out and then back to him.

Ana and I jumped between partners throughout the evening
, and I quickly learned that Rillin loathed dancing and Christian could go pro in ballroom. But it was Raef who stole me away from Christian finally, pulling me into an intoxicating slow dance as Otis Redding’s soft music flowed around us.

His wide hands held me to him as he moved across the open space and I could feel his body heat melting into mine.

I tucked my face against the chest of my beloved bodyguard, and tried, if only for a moment, to forget all that we were up against.

“I’m trying,” I growle
d
, sweat soaking through the thin body suit Collette had made me.

Rillin
stood across from me in a loose fitting, Asian style outfit, his broad arms crossed over his chest. His scars twisted around his arms and shoulders, like a thorny vine, and his face was hard as he studied me.

“It isn’t about brute force, Eila. It is about grace, anticipating the move of your enemy, and feeling the air around you. Right now you are just trying to
bash your way through the target, and all you are accomplishing is tiring yourself.”

“Well, I’m also getting my rage on, which is what you want
, don’t you? Feed my anger to flip the switch on my glow stick ability?” I was almost yelling, frustration and fatigue flaring in me. I had been training for hours each day, and I seemed no closer to accessing my inner fighter.

It had been three days since we opened Elizabeth’s diary. Since that night, we had trekked across the five-mile island, discovering sweeping flower fields, white sand beaches, and waterfalls.

We also explored the house and Christian’s insane collection of antique art and rare treasures. And we had started training, which involved everyone forcing their physical limits and abilities to the edge.

Raef, Kian, and MJ pushed their endurance levels, running around the island twenty to thirty times in one shot and at top speed, though MJ did so as Marsh. They swam, climbed, and perfected hand-to-hand fight techniques. They knew how to assemble a variety of handguns and shoot with precision aim.

They were a supernatural SEAL team of sorts.

MJ worked tirelessly at phasing on the fly and was no longer required to strip out his clothes, thanks to a specialized wardrobe Collette had invented.

Often times, I found him with a stack of anatomy and biology books surrounding him by the pool. I suspected he was working on shifting into something else besides Marsh, though he would not tell anyone anything, no matter how much Ana or I nagged him.

Ana had also been training, both in hand-to-hand techniques and as a Sway. She read constantly and we would volunteer ourselves to be guinea pigs as needed. Her ability was hit or miss, though she did have the whole truth or tale thing down perfectly.

She had been working with Rillin on something he called
blinding
, and though she wouldn’t say what it was, she seemed excited about its possibilities. She said it had to do with how the Lunaterra palace stayed so well hidden. I was out-of-my-mind curious.

Of all of us, however,
Rillin spent by far the most time with me. At first Raef had insisted on staying in the training room with me, which was Christian’s stunning library, but I found him to be a distraction. Eventually I asked him to leave, and he did so reluctantly.

At the moment, however, all I wanted to do was take a nap and maybe raid the chocolate box.

Rillin had given me a short sword after deciding that my Light throwing style from Sandy Neck favored a blade stroke, which was just laughable.

He said that before I could command my power, I needed to master a weapon that reflected my fighting style and wasn’t going to end up throwing me into another heart attack.

I got the logic behind his technique of “training,” but I seemed to be a stumbling klutz while attempting to follow the directions of an ex-Templar knight.

He had laid out several types of weapons, everything from daggers to knight-styled long swords. He gave me the short sword, which was a mini version of a knight’s blade, and I had proceeded to beat on a headless dummy that was on wheels.
Rillin would slide it side to side and I would try to strike it. I missed most of the time, and after 90 minutes, I wanted to aim for Rillin, rather than the dummy.

He sighed, walking over to me as he untied his shirt from his body, tossing it on the ground.

I studied his powerful body. The scars extended over his chest, with Elizabeth’s set of three deep slashes tracing his side.

He took the sword from my hand and stepped to the dummy, planting his feet as wide as his shoulders, facing away from me. Covering almost ever
y inch of his back was an owl, its wings spread wide, with the tips of its feathers curling over the tops of his thick shoulders, its talons flared.

A silent hunter, not unlike the man it was inked to, and who I wanted to strangle.

He glanced over his shoulder at me, “Grace, Eila. Don’t over think your move. Let your body understand itself and you will bring forth your power, and channel what strength you have to do the most damage.”

Not likely, but whatever
, Jedi Master.

I watched as he turned back to the dummy and his muscles flexed as he brought the blade to his side, spinning it by the handle. The sword balanced perfectl
y in his hand, the hilt counterweighted to the shining steel.

But then he stepped and spun, a full 360 degree turn, bringing the blade into a deadly angle as it met the side of the dummy, cutting the t
arget completely in half in one lightning-fast movement. Ninety minutes I had been hacking away at that thing, and in one sweeping motion, Rillin had cut it in half.

The severed upper half hit the floor and wobbled over toward my feet, like a lopsided bowling ball. “Show off,” I muttered.

Rillin looked back at me as he placed the sword among the others and picked up a shorter, narrower sword that had a subtle curve to the blade. The length of the steel was engraved with flowers, and the handle was wrapped in strips of leather. I sighed, “What’s this one called?” I was resigned that I wasn’t getting a break yet.

“This is a Katana,” said
Rillin, handing the beautiful weapon to me, hilt first. “The Samurai used them in combat. They are lighter and the curve allowed a warrior to unsheathe the blade and slice through their enemy in a single sweeping motion. You cannot swing like a bat with this one, so don’t even try it.”

I already liked the narrow feel of the Katana in my hand and I straightened my arm, holding the sword horizontally in front of me. The sunlight pouring in from the open library window caught the edge of the steel, sending a streak of light across the high ceiling. “I like this one,” I said. “It feels better to me. Lighter. More natural.”

Rillin stepped around behind me and suddenly I was very aware of his body in the space of the room.

He reached out over my arm, laying his own massive bicep on
top of mine. He curled his scarred hand over my fingers, gripping the sword along with me, and my nerves began to flare. He brought my other arm up to the hilt, and showed me how to use both my hands to hold the Katana. He then took his free hand and pressed it flat to my lower stomach, pinning my back to his front. I jumped when we made contact, but he seemed unfazed.

His voice vibrated through me when he spoke, and suddenly every inch of my body was alive. “Now step with me,” he said, and he moved to the left, tightening his grip on my stomach and forcing me to move with him, while his other arm guided the Katana to a sweeping side move.

“You’re fighting the fluidity of it, Eila. You have to trust yourself and your body,” said Rillin, forcing me to step the other way and rotate the blade again.

“Close your eyes,” he said softly. “Feel your way through the movement, of how your body flexes, and how the air sweeps across the blade.” I did as he said, closing my eyes, and feeling
Rillin’s body molded to mine as we stepped back and forth, smoothly like a cat. “Block out the world, Eila. Focus on what you want and what you feel. Command your body to move the way you wish. You are a lyrical form of death. Graceful, precise, and committed to the kill.”

I did as he said, relaxing into his movements and focusing on my own body. Believing I was like the wind and water, my movements became more fluid, more natural.

Even with my eyes closed, I began to see the room about me – of how the blade was turning in my hands and how my feet flexed to the floor. I could feel the sun when I stepped into its glorious path, but also the darkened corner of the room, shadowed by the books.

The edge of my vision began to glitter, like cut crystal, and with my eyes still tightly closed the room came into view, like an artist’s charcoal sketch. It was hauntingly beautiful and my breath caught as my head turned to scan the room, somehow seeing without my eyes. I could even see the remainder of the dummy, standing near me, half destroyed.

“Do you feel yourself within the space? Can you see yourself moving?” asked Rillin, his voice nearly a whisper.

I nodded slowly and he carefully released me, but I kept moving side to side, sweeping the blade in a slow, deliberate arc.

I stepped forward, still moving in the light-footed motion, both my hands gripped tightly to the leather handle and turning in unison. I focused on what I felt, on what I saw even with my eyes closed.

I was one with the air, with the ground, and with the energy that began to skate across my skin. And then, without conscious decision or command, I took a bold lunge and hauled the blade in a perfect arc, cutting clean through a swath of space in front of me.

I eased out of my stance and slowly opened my eyes and the near blinding light of the room faded. In front of me was just the pole the dummy had been on, shuddering slightly. Beside it lay my target, completely severed from the stand.

I turned back to
Rillin, breathless with the effort I didn’t realize I had used. “Like that?” I asked, catching my reflection in a massive mirror. The edge of my eyes glowed a brilliant gold, like the outer edge of a solar eclipse.

“Exactly like that,” said
Rillin, and he studied me, as if he was seeing someone else.

As if he was once again facing Elizabeth.

Eila lay in my arm
s
as we watched the subtle movement of her bed’s canopy sway with the night breeze that drifted in through the open balcony doors. The house was quiet, everyone having gone to bed, or tucked into their rooms, reading.

I listened to the sound of the palm trees rustle and the ocean roll not far from the house, while I twisted a strand of her wet hair through my fingers. We had all gone for a night swim in the glowing pool, trying to unwind from a day of training, and we ended up betting one another which constellations we could identify. At one point, Ana climbed onto
Kian’s back and just held on, using him as her own floatation device.

Eila yawned, rolling more into my chest, and I pressed my arm firmly around her back, kissing the top of her head. “You’re tired,” I whispered.

“Mmm - I’m tired from training and, well, other things,” she replied, drawing circles over my chest that still held faint traces of the Fallen marks. They had been black as ebony a little while ago because of what we had done, and this time Eila hadn’t felt pain. She had let herself go completely as we made love, and I had felt the rush of her heartbeat rocket through my chest, pacing my own.

I leaned down, kissing her softly on the lips. She sighed and I couldn’t help my need to bring her body into tighter contact with my own. I rolled myself on
top of her, careful to keep my weight off of her as I caged in her head with my arms. She was going to attempt to throw her power tomorrow, and it hung like a cloud of doom over my head.

“Are you sure you want to throw the Light already? There is no rush, you know?” I asked, sweeping her hair back from her face.
 I knew every one of her freckles and where her skin would flush when she was embarrassed. I knew how she slept, how she laughed, and where her tears tracked when she cried. I knew her, all of her, and adored everything about her.

Eila nodded and rolled her soft body
under mine and my Fallen marks darkened once again. “You worry too much,” she whispered, bringing her lips in contact with mine, quickly escalating a polite kiss into a fiery one. God, I could never get enough of her, but even with her pinned under me, her safety was paramount.

“I can never worry enough about you,” I replied, locking her delicate wrists in my hand and dragging them slowly above her head, kissing the ticklish spot on her smooth neck. She laughed and squirmed against me, effectively revving my need into high gear. Her giggles faded into deep, slow drags of air as I trekked my lips down from her neck to her scar.

I drew my hand down her body to her hip as she breathed my name, but then a door slammed in the direction of Ana’s room. We snapped out of our moment and glanced to the bedroom door, listening. Then I heard delicate footsteps marching past Eila’s door, heading for the third floor staircase . . . and Ana, softly crying. E heard it too, causing her to scramble out from under me, and I quickly pulled on a pair of pants while she flung on a top and boxers.

We managed to get out the bedroom door and nearly collided with
Rillin, who must have also heard Ana with his supernatural hearing. He gave me a knowing glare, but kept his mouth shut.

“Where’s Christian?” I asked. I wasn’t going to hide the fact that I was sleeping with Eila, nor was I ashamed of making love to the girl I adored, but this was not the way for Christian to find out.

“He went back to Freeport to try and pick off Garrett’s nephew,” said Rillin. He motioned in the direction Ana had gone, “Are you two checking on her?” We both nodded, leaving Rillin standing in the hall as we jogged for the stairs and whatever was going on above us.

As we reached the third floor hallway, Eila yanked me back and put a finger to her lips to signal me to be quiet. Ana had not seen us, and she stood before
Kian’s door holding a piece of paper in her hands, as if debating whether or not to knock.

She roughly rubbed away her tears and raised her hand to the door, but it suddenly opened. Kian, dressed only in a pair of cotton pants, stepped out to her the moment he saw her wet cheeks. “Pix? What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

Ana fingered the paper in her hand, looking down at it as she gave a small sniff, “I was using the laptop in my room just now. The one from Cerberus. And I saw this picture.”

Kian swallowed and slowly took the paper from her, looking down at whatever was printed on the page. “I, uh, meant to tell you. I was going to take you by the cemetery to see it, but things got messed up so fast, and we had to leave. I’ll have the workers remove it if you don’t like it,” he said, shifting on his feet, as if guilty of a crime. “I’m sorry I upset you. That wasn’t my intention. The cemetery said that it was going to take so long to replace his stone and I knew I could get it done faster. I knew I could give your Dad a nice stone like yo
u always wanted to.” Kian carefully folded the paper and handed it back to Ana, who nodded slowly.

I realized then that they were discussing Ana’s father’s headstone, which Kian had apparently replaced. I was stunned he had done such a thing. To honor a man who had treated her so badly must have been the hardest thing for Kian to do, but he did it, for Ana. He did it because he would walk through fire if she asked.

“I’m not upset,” said Ana drawing a trembling breath.

Kian reached out and gently wrapped his hand around her narrow wrist. “Pix – but you’re crying,” he whispered.

She nodded, reaching her hand up to his brow and tracing down the side of his face as he watched her intently. She rose up on her tip-toes and cautiously pulled him down to her as she brought her lips to his, and I felt Eila’s hand grip mine. Kian seemed too stunned to react for a moment, but then he finally gathered his arms around her, lifting her off the ground as he kissed her back. But then Ana began to cry freely.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered through her gasps, beginning to truly sob. She told him she was sorry for blaming him for her father’s death. Sorry that she sent him away and treated him so badly when he had returned.

Kian gently tried to calm her, telling her it was okay. That everything would be all right and that he loved her. He pressed his back against the edge of the doorframe and slowly sank to the floor with Ana in his arms, holding her tightly as he kissed her tears and her lips.

I pulled Eila carefully to my side and she rested her head against my shoulder, wiping a stray tear from her own face. As we quietly backed down the stairs, leaving
Ana and Kian alone in one another’s arms, I heard Ana whisper to my brother that she loved him.

Forever.