Twin Flames (8 page)

Chapter Ten

Raven woke alone, her head swimming with visions. Visions of blood trickling like a stream along the great hall. Bodies strewn in blatant disregard across the floor, eyes wide and staring, fried beyond repair from an unknown source of psychic power.

War. War was everywhere.

The vision terrified her. Her third eye never lied. Disaster would befall them if something wasn’t done quickly.

She needed to find Devlin.

She sprang from the bed, ignoring the chill. A dress haphazardly wrapped around her body, she ran barefoot out the door.

Four guards blocked her path. Beyond thought, she slammed into one and bounced off his steel chest. Another quickly stepped in to stabilize her before she fell.

“Where is Devlin?” she demanded, “I must find him.”

The guard in front shrugged. “Don’t know.”

With a grimace, she started past them, but her way was blocked. “We were instructed not to let you leave.”

Anger swelled in her throat. “By whom?” she sputtered. Who ever it was, she had every intention of giving them a piece of her mind. How dare they imprison her?

“The prince.” The guard stepped back his hands up in front of him. “He doesn’t want you harmed.”

Oh, God. Had it already begun?

“Find him and bring him here,” she ordered. Pivoting, she returned to the bedroom before they had a chance to deny her request.

She felt like a caged tiger, primed and ready to fight its way free. The floor creaked as she paced, the crystal giving with every step.

The pounding of footsteps distracted her. She turned just as the door was thrown open.

“Are you all right?” Devlin raced to her side. His hands feeling the sides of her body, looking for injury.

She pushed him off. “I’m not hurt. I had a vision.”

The color back in his cheeks, he pulled her to the settee beside the bed. “Are your visions accurate?”

She nodded. “Always.”

After a deep breath, she related the vision, noting that his normally pale complexion seemed to fade even more with the telling. “It has to be stopped.” Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded. “You have to do something.”

He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. “Things have been peaceful for centuries. My brother fears an internal attack. He has reason to believe someone here is helping our enemies by letting them know our state of upheaval. I must tell him this and validate his belief.”

“That’s not enough. There was urgency to the vision. It will happen soon.”

“No. My brother has fortified the castle. We are safe.”

“You’re not listening. This is going to happen…soon.”

“All the more reason you should keep to our room. You will be safe here while I ferret this out.”

“Tell me more about your banishment,” she requested. “Help me understand.”

He leaned back, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. “I was found guilty of treason. Only because I was a prince did I escape death.” He leaned back, pulling her against him, his chin resting on the top of her head.

“Now that you’re back, is all forgiven?”

“Many of our people do not trust me. It’ll be a long road.”

“And this is what you want?”

He paused. “Yes. It’s what I want.”

The muscles of his chest tightened against her cheek. “More of my people will be slaughtered. This war must end.” He pressed his face against the top of her head.

“But I thought your people were immortal.”

A slight smile curled his lips. “No. We have a long lifespan, but we don’t live forever.”

A tear slid down her face, his pain suddenly too much to bear. “It would be nice if we could all live forever.”

“Maybe you will,” he murmured. He leaned down until their lips were almost touching. “Maybe you will.”

She shut her eyes, eager for the soft touch of skin.

“My prince.” There was a yell at the door followed by a loud knock. The door slammed open, resonating through the crystal walls. “You must come at once.”

With a sigh, Devlin untangled himself from Raven. “This better be damned important.”

The guard glanced at Raven.

“You can speak in front of her.”

“The wall has been breached. The city is under attack.”

“Why the hell didn’t you say so instead of staring at me like an idiot?” He jumped to his feet. “Stay here,” he ordered Raven. “You—” he pointed to the guard, “—stay with her. Don’t open this door for anyone and take the passage way if they breach the castle.” He leaned down, one hand taking rough possession of Raven’s jaw, giving her lips a hard kiss. “I’ll find you, wherever you end up. Don’t die on me.”

***

Devlin walked out into darkness. All the light in the castle had been extinguished. Armed regiments marched either way down the long hall. He weaved through them, searching for a face of authority.

He grabbed the captain of the guard by the forearm. “Where is my brother?”

Stunned, the other man was slow to reply. His lapse tried Devlin’s patience. “He is at the barricade, my prince.”

Damn Chalice’s ignorant hide. He would get himself killed. The king did not belong on the front lines. He raced through the men until the barricade stood full in front of him.

It was a parade of fighting men sweeping side to side in battle. Blood flew from their wounds, catching in the strong wind and dancing. This was the physical battle. Brute force against brute force. If they breached the castle, the psychic battle would begin. Then those with true power would emerge to finish the assault.

Chalice stood at the far end of the barricade. His sword in hand, he fought arm to arm with his people. It was a damn foolish thing to do.

Devlin searched the grounds. He needed a sword. A fallen soldier lay mere feet away, his sword beside him. Taking the weapon, Devlin made his way through the waves of men.

Sword drawn, he fought his way to Chalice. His sword arm as quick and sure as it had been a thousand years ago when he had first battled.

“Chalice, pull back,” he shouted over the war of battle. “Pull back.”

Damn it. The man either wasn’t listening or didn’t hear him. Devlin had to fight through until he was almost on top of his brother.

“Pull back. Your people need you.”

“Get back in the castle.”

“Not without you.”

“By all that’s holy.” Chalice pulled back and Devlin followed. At a distance, they stood silent for a moment and watched the men fighting at the barricade.

“They’ll never breach.” Chalice wiped the sweat from his brow with a slash of his arm. “But they’ll return, and when they do, we’ll be weak from today’s battle. They far exceed us in number.”

“All the more reason why you shouldn’t be out there risking your neck. Your people need you to lead them, which you can’t do if you’re dead.

“They have you now. You were always better at politics.”

“You are trusted. They respect you. I am not trusted.”

Chalice glanced Devlin’s way. “What do you want?”

“We need to fortify the castle. They will breach and the people will be defenseless.”

“Have you no faith?”

“My lady saw it in a vision.”

Chalice paled. He shouted across the field to his commander. The other man ran, jumping across the dead bodies to do the king’s bidding.

“Take half the reserve and put them outside the castle walls. Spread the others inside by every entrance. We must fortify the castle.”

“We must get the women and children to safety. They have already slaughtered most of the townspeople.”

Raven.

Devlin had to get back to her.

“I will meet you in the tunnels after they are secured. Then we will face the enemy together.”

***

Raven huddled on the settee, watching the guards pace. Their steps made strange music on the crystal floor. It reminded her of the handbells she always heard at Christmas.

She prayed Devlin hadn’t gone into battle. That he was tucked away somewhere safe, given the protection his station demanded.

Horns, sharp and clear, sounded an alarm. It resonated throughout the room, bursting against each wall until her eardrums threatened to burst.

Edgar, the older of the two guards, pulled her to her feet. “You must go to the tunnels. The barricade has been breached.”

The other guard knelt beside the bed and smoothed his hand along the floor. The walls beside the window split in two, revealing a stairway.

“Go. The others will meet you. Be safe.” Edgar led her to the entrance. When she stepped inside, the walls shut, leaving her in total darkness.

Blind, she felt her way along the passage, taking each step with caution. It went down forever. When she finally reached the bottom, she let out the breath she had been holding and looked around.

Three torches lit the entryway to three dirt tunnels. To travel through any given one she would have to crawl on hands and knees through the dirt. Which one should she choose?

She picked the central tunnel, and with a deep breath fell to her hands and knees and crawled inside. The dirt surrounded her on all sides, the fit so tight that it brushed her shoulders as she moved. She could only imagine what else she was crawling through. The floor was soft and damp beneath her bare legs.

Ignoring the discomfort, she crawled forward until she saw a dim light ahead. Relieved, she pushed forward, praying for a friendly face.

Three guards met her in the clearing. Once they had helped her to her feet, she looked around. Women and children huddled together against the dirt walls, terror on their faces. Yesterday those same wide eyes had been filled with peace and joy.

She hated the war that threatened them, didn’t understand why it couldn’t be stopped, why some resolution couldn’t be reached. Was it mere stubbornness or simply fear?

“What is this place?” she asked the guard who had helped her.

“We call it Nirvana, the gateway between heaven and hell. It is our last resource once the castle is breached.”

“Has the castle been breached before?”

“Yes, but rarely. We’ve always survived, as we will this time. Sit and rest. One way or another, it will be over soon.”

She was amazed by his nonchalance. Did he not realize they could all die? Pulling free from his grasp, she moved to a more central location. Although they shivered from the cold, the other hideaways seemed to share his emotions. Occasionally, short trills of laughter rang out, bouncing off the dirt walls and echoing in the hollow room.

They had detached themselves from the horror. Was it the result of facing such horrors on a weekly, if not daily basis? Or did they simple have such faith that their king would not fail?

A low growl of movement sounded from the tunnel behind her. At least fifty more people tumbled out, dust covered. Behind them lurked a familiar face.

Chalice.

The king.

If he was here, where was Devlin? Fear streaked through her. He couldn’t be dead. She would have felt it.

She quickly covered the distance to Chalice. Grabbing his arm, she asked, “Where is Devlin? Why isn’t he with you?”

He turned and she sucked in her breath at the pain in his eyes. “He is to meet me here. He will be along soon.”

Thank God.

Time trickled by, and yet Devlin didn’t appear. The walls seemed to fold in around her as she waited, the vision flashing constantly in her mind.

Something was terribly wrong.

She had to get to Devlin.

Chalice leaned against a far wall, conferring with the captain of the guard. He was paying her little, if any attention, and the guards were caught up in the conversation as well. No one would notice if she slipped back through the tunnel.

Palms sweaty, she moved closer to the entrance. The thought of going back inside sickened her. Then, the choice was taken out of her hands. The walls around them shuddered with the pounding of feet.

“They’ve breached the castle.”

A cloud of fear encompassed the room. Bodies huddled together as if by becoming one they could ward off the enemy.

The sound of footsteps echoed above them, resonating through the small narrow space. Raven’s heart pounded in her chest. If the enemy breached the underground tunnels, they would all die. The faces of the innocent woman and children echoed in her mind.

She would not let this happen.

There was very little time.

She could help the men, if only Chalice would allow it. Instead, he continually ignored her attempts to gain his attention as he was readying the guards for battle. There were so few to fight. The mainstay of the army were still in the fields.

Raven gathered her strength. She would fight their battle. The force of it could very well kill her, but she couldn’t let them die, not when she was strong enough to stop their enemy. She had dreamt of this moment. Had seen it in her visions.

Voices of the enemy streamed through the narrow passage. Eyes closed, she focused, creating a bubble of white light that wrapped around Chalice and his people, leaving only herself exposed. She tapped into the full breadth of her powers, allowing her psychic energy to create a shield of protection.

Men spilled into the tunnels. She felt them stop and stare as if unable to believe one of their own had turned against them. The pressure on her mind increased to an unbearable level, yet she held on to the shield, molding it enough to allow Chalice and his men to attack while protecting them from harm.

She felt like an elephant was sitting on her chest and playing patty cake with her head. It was as if she had climbed to the top of Mount Everest without an oxygen tank and could only wait for the inevitable. Eventually, her body collapsed and the shield faded away.

Chapter Eleven

It was empty.

Fear entered Devlin’s heart. The caverns had been abandoned. Voluntarily or forced, either way, no one was left.

There was no blood splatter, no signs of struggle. It didn’t make sense. He had seen the enemy breach the tunnels. In the midst of the fighting, there had been no way for him to follow.

He paced as if possessed.

Where was Raven? Chalice? His people?

He traveled to his bedroom inside the internal fortress, miles beneath the ground. How had their defenses become so lax that this could happen? He only prayed he would find the answer here, that Chalice had swept them away to sanctuary before it was too late.

He swept the fortress with his mind. The place was clean. The only warmth was that of his people. Their number had dwindled, but Chalice was among them. Where was Raven?

A moment of sheer panic stole his breath. Why couldn’t he feel her?

He went to search out the injured, praying she was not among them.

Shrieks greeted him as he entered the hospice. Shrill screams of mothers whose children had been injured, terrified cries of infants who were now without a parent.

His people. Wounded and dying.

Chalice sat at the edge of the room, his wounds being treated. Blood ran down his forearm from what looked like a stab wound on his biceps. His chest was already bandaged and blood was seeping through the dressing.

He turned as Devlin approached, his eyes full of sorrow. He tried to stand, but the doctor held him back.

“Where is she?” Devlin read the answer in his brother’s eyes, but refused to believe. “She cannot be dead. Where is she?”

Chalice pushed the doctor aside and rose to meet his brother. “Your lady is not dead, but she is fading quickly. She sacrificed herself for our people.”

It was then that he saw her, lying on a golden blanket in the corner of the room. Her life force barely lit the air around her, its light twinkling as it fought to survive.

Pain threatened to strangle him. He knelt before her, tears swimming in his golden eyes. How had he imagined he could live without her, the other half of his soul? He pressed his forehead against her stomach and willed her to live. His life force swelled throughout his body, calling her to awaken. Their bond allowed him to force breath into her lungs, open her eyes.

It was then that he felt her stir.

“Devlin?” She squinted up at him, her eyes hazy with pain. “Is it over?”

“Yes, my love.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “It is over.”

As she shut her eyes, he watched in relief as her life force began to repair itself. It would take time, rest and quiet, but she would be all right.

His body shook with relief. All would be for nothing if they did not win the battle. He would be able to protect her more on the battlefield. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips before moving across the room to Chalice.

“The battle rages on, brother. I must return. Stay here, nurse your people and your wounds and see to my mate when she awakens.”

Shaking his head, Chalice tried again to stand again, but weakness quickly placed him back in his chair. “Go and be safe. Your lady is in good hands.”

With a quick nod, Devlin returned to the chaos that surrounded them.

The fire still raged, thick and dry. It smothered the city and moved on to the castle. He made his way through the bodies strewn across the outer wall, toward the sounds of battle.

***

Raven woke to darkness. The stuffiness of the room had left her throat dry. She swallowed, but couldn’t stop the cough. She tried to smother it as best she could, so no one would hear.

She needed Devlin. Dare she leave? The room was foreign. If she were still in the castle, a battle would be raging outside, but there was only silence.

The door swung open, reverberating against the wall.

“Good. You’re awake. We began to wonder once the second day had passed.” Melanie walked behind the bed until they were facing each other. “If you feel well enough, we could really use your help with the wounded.” She placed a cup on the nightstand. “I brought you some water. Take a few moments. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Raven grabbed the water. It worked magic to soothe her parched throat. Finished, she leaned against the bed and tried to get her bearings. By the time Melanie returned, she felt more like herself.

Devlin. She had to find out about Devlin.

Raven watched Melanie pace around the room, a bundle of fresh clothing in her arms.

“Where is Devlin?” Raven could barely stand to watch Melanie’s display of nervous energy. She wanted to shake her, tell her to stand still.

Instead, Melanie pretended she didn’t hear. “We should hurry. I can’t be away for long.”

Raven grasped her by the arm. “Answer my question. Where’s Devlin?”

The other woman wouldn’t meet her eyes. Fear pooled in Raven’s belly.

“No one knows.” Melanie stared at the floor, her toe tapping on the wood. “He never returned. Many think the battle is still going on and he is fighting.”

Or dead.

Melanie didn’t say it, but her thoughts were clear. It wasn’t true. Devlin was not dead. She would know. He would come. She couldn’t begin to contemplate what her life would be like without him. She pushed the thought from her mind, covering it with another, he was simply still fighting. He would return soon.

“Where are we?” Raven asked. She took the cotton shirt Melanie handed her and slipped it over her head.

Melanie handed her the skirt. “This is the inner sanctum. The Council resides here. It is our last line of defense.” Raven tied on the shirt and Melanie handed her a black knee-length apron. “You’ll need this. The wounded are many and caring for them is messy.”

Raven nodded and took the apron. It felt unbearably restricting tied around her waist.

She followed Melanie down to the makeshift hospice. Bedrolls for the wounded lay in horizontal rows across the marble floor, those caring for them marching through the rows like soldiers.

She tended to them, one then another, all the while forcing herself not to think about Devlin’s fate. She yearned to touch him, to press against his nude body and revel in his warmth.

A tear trickled down her cheek. She brushed it away with the back of her hand, hoping no one had noticed. He was coming back.

It was then that she saw Chalice propped against the far wall. She didn’t know him well, but imagined he’d be too stubborn to take a bed, as there were far too few. When he saw her, his face suddenly became alert and he waved her to him.

When she stood at his side he took her hand in his, squeezing tightly. “Do you feel Devlin? Is he alive?”

She stared at him. Had he sustained a brain injury? Was he lucid?

He yanked her to him. “Damn it, girl. You’re his mate. You should feel whether he’s dead. I must know. If I could move from this chair, I’d find out for myself.”

He believed his words. The truth was shining in his eyes. She closed her eyes and let her psychic power pour out, searching. It swirled through the sanctuary, then out into the barren desert, again underground until it found the city.

The men still warred. The battle had become desperate. Both sides had gone without food or rest for three days, and it was starting to wear on them. The adrenaline of battle could no longer sustain their needs.

She moved amongst them, searching every bloody body for his face. She found him lying against a wall, badly wounded but alive. He was trying to teleport himself, but did not have the strength.

Her power reached out to him, wrapping around his shivering body to keep him warm. She infused him with her strength, giving him the power he so desperately needed. She was shocked to see him use the power, not to transport, but to heal himself. How was that possible?

Before her eyes, he stood healthy and whole and she knew he would return to the battle.

Two days passed and the battle showed no signs of stopping. Each day, Devlin would bring in more wounded. When they healed, they would arm themselves and return to the fight.

Raven was leaning against a wall in the hospice dozing when the cheer rang through the room.

“The enemy has retreated.”

Her heart pounded in her chest. Could it be true? Was it over? She raced to the doorway. There Chalice stood, still bloody from battle, a huge grin on his face.

There was no sign of Devlin.

Her heart dropped. She turned away before her sadness could dampen the mood. It was easy to slip away unnoticed, so she made her way to her bedroom intending to lock herself inside. She would not celebrate until Devlin arrived and she saw him whole.