Stone Cold Revenge (Set In Stone, Book Two) Page 6

  “Don’t anger him so soon.”

  I turned at the sound of Jax’s voice. “What?”

  He gestured to the makeup bag still in my hands. “Play his game for now.”

  I blew out a breath and looked down. I knew Jax was right, but I didn’t want to give in too soon. I needed to test the limits of my newfound courage. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. He expects your cooperation. If you’re lucky, he’ll grow complacent.”

  It was makeup, damn it—something Jedren shouldn’t even worry about. I set the bag on the counter and faced the vanity mirror. Grabbing a tube of mascara, I looked at Jax out of the corner of my eye. “I don’t mind it when you’re right, unless my father is involved.”

  His low laughter rolled over me. I could get used to that sound. Jax didn’t laugh often, but when he did, it was worth the wait. With a small smile, I applied the rest of my makeup. I had to pick the right battles out of the many that were sure to come. This didn’t need to be one of them.

  When I finished, Jax handed me a mug. I inhaled the rich aroma. “I think I’ll keep you around.”

  One black brow arched. “You think you could get rid of me?”

  I looked away, not ready to get into that subject so early.

  Jax cleared his throat in the awkward silence. “Do you want to eat breakfast before or after I tell you your schedule?”

  My steps faltered. “Schedule?”

  “Before or after?” he asked again.

  Shaking my head, I walked downstairs. “After. I have a feeling I’ll lose my appetite otherwise.”

  I pulled a Greek yogurt and an apple out of the fridge. Dropping into a kitchen chair, I ate the yogurt in silence. Jax refilled his coffee and watched me.

  As I crunched on the crisp apple, I steeled myself. “Okay, lay it on me.”

  “Maxim dropped off your itinerary for the week.” Jax handed me a piece of paper, neatly typed.

  The sweet apple lost all taste. “Great.” Reluctance made my arms heavy as I held up the paper. I blinked a few times to make sure I wasn’t having a nightmare. Maxim had my day planned down to the minute. Starting with…

  “No way. This has to be a joke. Or a typo.” I waved the paper at Jax. “Does this say what I think it says?”

  He eyed me warily. Smart man that he was, he kept the length of the kitchen between us. “Which part?”

  “Falon? That’s the trainer he hired? Please tell me there are other trainers or hunters named Falon. Preferably one or two who are sane.” I dropped the paper, pushed away from the table, and threw the half-eaten apple in the garbage with a satisfying thud. Leaning over the sink, I stared out of the kitchen window, which faced the main house.

  I didn’t harbor much hatred. It polluted the soul, in my opinion. But what I felt for my father, for that house and all that came with it, could only be described as unfiltered hatred. I could now put Maxim in that box, too.

  Slimy little pissant.

  “Falon is one of the best trainers available.”

  I didn’t answer Jax. All I could focus on was the memory of Falon’s crazy white eyes as he’d stared at me with that strange, blank look. But as I’d lain on the cold castle floor in Scotland, still negotiating with my father despite the wounds Luke had inflicted yet again, there had been a flash of interest on Falon’s face. Maybe something more.

  Falon scared me. Jedren had hired him to hunt me, but Luke had caught me instead…and Falon never lost his prey.

  He wanted me dead. As a hunter who never came home empty-handed, Falon would always view me as his failure. I didn’t have to be psychic to know he’d rectify that if he could.

  Now I had to train with him.

  “He won’t hurt you while he’s on your father’s payroll as your trainer.”

  I kept my back to Jax, gripping the kitchen counter, my knuckles white. What he left unsaid was that as soon as the contract ended, all bets were off. Falon was probably counting on it.

  I had a talent for making enemies with seemingly little effort.

  “Did you read the rest of the schedule?”

  My hold on the counter tightened. It took conscious effort to release my hands, one finger at a time. “No. I didn’t get past the ten o’clock training.”

  Jax walked over and handed me the itinerary. The entire page was full of my neatly organized schedule. I threw Jax a wry look. “Thanks, but what I meant to say is I didn’t want to read past the ten o’clock training.”

  Shoulders tight with tension, I skimmed the rest of the schedule. When I got to the last item, I sucked in a sharp breath. “My father is throwing me a birthday party? On Saturday?” I lifted my gaze to Jax’s face.

  Calm gray eyes studied me. “I believe it’s to introduce you as his heir.”

  Of course. Silly me. My father would never waste money celebrating my birthday just because. A nasty thought struck me. “Wait. Who will be there?”

  “Every notable family. The Council. Anyone he wants to send a message to.”

  I stepped back. “So does that mean his enemies?”

  An emotion I couldn’t decipher ran across his face a split-second before he adopted an impassive mask. “Yes. Friends, enemies, and everyone in between. Though I doubt he has many he’d count as true friends.”

  Bad. Oh, this was very, very bad. “This effectively puts a big bull’s-eye on my back. Won’t it? Why would he invite the same people who’d put a price on my head for stealing the souls?” Jax didn’t say a word, which was answer enough.

  “Okay,” I said, infusing false enthusiasm into my tone. “That’s great. I’ll get tormented by Falon each morning, suffer Maxim’s company each afternoon, and possibly get assassinated at my birthday party this weekend. Fabulous! Shall I jump in front of a bus now, or later?”

  Jax took ahold of my shoulders and squeezed gently. “You are protected. If you believe nothing else, believe that.”

  A sense of bleak futility gnawed at my gut. “I appreciate that, but how big will the bull’s-eye be on you? And MacLean and Teryl?”

  “You have the upper hand,” he pointed out in a calm voice. “He’s showing you off as his heir. He’ll have his security doubled for the event, and he’s making sure everyone knows you’re under his protection. You can either make him look great or make him look foolish.”

  “Upper hand? This is a cluster. Plain and simple.” I leaned against him for just a moment, needing the comfort he offered. I understood what he was saying, but I didn’t happen to agree. “Elion said he would train me. Actually, he got the most bizarre woman to do it. I don’t know how to call her. Or him, for that matter. But maybe they can come.” Despite their inability to hold a sane conversation, those two seemed like they’d be good in a fight.

  The hand that had been rubbing my lower back stilled. “Who?”

  “Elion, my so-called uncle.” I tilted my head back to look at him.

  “No, who did he get to train you?”

  “I only know her first name. Luna. She’s crazy, but so is everyone else I’ve met over the past two weeks. I guess they have to be to fit into this world. Regardless, I need all the help I can get.”

  An arrested look shifted his features. “Elion and Luna,” he repeated slowly with an odd inflection in his voice. “They’re going to help you. Train you to use your abilities, I assume.”

  When his hands dropped to his sides, I stepped back with a frown. I tried to pretend the sudden sick feeling in my stomach was from my yogurt, apple, and coffee breakfast. “Yes. What’s the matter? You know something about them, don’t you?”

  My confusion grew when he suddenly grinned.

  “What? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I will have to verify with Teryl, but I believe Elion is a god and Luna is Tuatha De Danaan.”

  “I’m not sure what that is. Better yet, why should I care?”

  Jax continued to grin. “Consider Luna your fairy godmother.”

  Silence blanketed the kitche
n.

  “Um, okay. Does that mean she’s going to put me in glass slippers? Because that seems impractical and uncomfortable. A soul-finding machine, on the other hand, would be helpful.”

  He grabbed my hand and held it to his chest. I gently pulled away, not ready for the intimacy of the gesture. “I’m serious, little gem,” he said. “They’re called Tuatha De Danaan. A branch of the fae created by the goddess Danu. Teryl can give you a better definition, because that’s the limit of my knowledge.”

  I groaned. “Why do the gods have a hand in every damn thing?”

  Amusement flickered across his face. “That is one question I cannot answer, nor would I even try. Regardless, you shouldn’t underestimate her.”

  Before I could dish out a pithy remark, I heard my mother’s voice as clear as day in my head. Honey, you might not walk an enchanted path, but there will always be someone outrageous to make it interesting. Stop being so stubborn and go with it.

  Chapter Seven

  The voice I heard sounded so much like my mother, it physically hurt. The tone, the words…everything. It had been a few months since her voice had last popped into my head, but I took it as a positive sign now. If she said I should trust Luna, I would.

  Even from beyond the grave, my mother’s voice was something I trusted with my life. For the first year after her death, I’d heard her words on a weekly basis—my mind would pull up little snippets of wisdom when I’d least expect it, and it had been comforting to have those small reminders. She had always been the first person I’d call if I needed to brainstorm, vent, or talk through a decision.

  My mother was—is—my hero. She had been one of the classiest, most beautiful women around. She’d never said a bad word about anyone and had more integrity in her little finger than my father had possessed in his lifetime. I could see why he had wanted her. What I couldn’t understand was why he’d ever let her walk away from their marriage, only to kill her so many years later.

  Jax rubbed a hand across my shoulders. “I will help however I can, little gem.”

  “I know. Thanks for that. But some of this I’ll have to do on my own.” Which scared me to death.

  He wrapped his arms around me in a quick, fierce hug. “I know. You should go start your day before I decide to take you and run.”

  I took a reluctant step back but smiled wistfully. “Would you really do that?”

  Silver swirled in his eyes as he stared down at me. “Yes. If I thought it would help. And if I thought you would let me.” His tone was serious, like always. His declaration made me go mushy inside.

  I stood on tiptoes to give him a soft, quick kiss, then ran out of the front door before I could change my mind and stay. I wanted to take him up on the offer. Desperately. But like Jax, I knew it would solve nothing. I had too many loose ends to tie up, powerful beings to deal with, and people to kill. How I longed for a simple fashion disaster or haircut crisis. Something emotionally traumatic, but at the end of the day, trivial.

  Life never played out that simply, in my experience.

  I walked around the side of the main house and entered through the downstairs kitchen door. Or, what my father referred to as the “servants’ entrance.” Three people stood at various counters in the massive kitchen, chopping, stirring, and mixing, already preparing food for the day. They didn’t spare me more than a cursory glance. Jedren expected his employees to do their job and ignore everything else.

  I followed their lead, stared straight ahead, and kept walking, though my stride slowed. The training room occupied most of the downstairs.

  Where Luke used to torture me.

  I’d been tied up, beaten, branded, you name it. Luke had done it all and then some. Sadistic as they come, Luke is Psychotic with a capital P. He made my Top Two list of monsters to be slayed because every breath he took meant someone could die or be maimed. I wouldn’t have that on my conscience.

  My father had told me for years that the abuse—he called it corrective practices—was necessary to modify my behavior.

  A shiver snaked down my spine, followed by an icy chill. Memory Lane is my version of hell. But I didn’t have time to dredge up the past, not now. How do you mentally prepare to step foot back in your torture chamber? Excuse me, the corrective practices room.

  Unfortunately, I was about to find out.

  Calling on the strength of my mother and on my newfound courage, I squared my shoulders and walked down the steps. Where Falon waited.

  He stood and watched my slow descent. Those eerie white eyes seemed to track my every move. Uneasy, I faltered on a step and grabbed the banister.

  Falon smiled.

  His face held an ageless quality that made it difficult to determine how old he was. I guessed his forties, but I could be off by a decade in either direction. He had his straight white hair pulled back in a neat braid, and he wore a plain blue T-shirt and black athletic pants.

  Relief coursed through me when I noticed his hands were empty. In fact, I didn’t see his weapon anywhere. But his bare feet gave me pause. Large mats were set up on the floor of the open room. I wondered how fast I could get back to Jax, and how long it would take us to pack if we ran away.

  “You’re almost late.”

  I frowned down at Falon, stopping three steps from where he stood. “I’m right on time.”

  He didn’t move or speak, just waited. His stillness unnerved me. It wasn’t normal. After a few tense seconds, he turned and walked away, so I let out a quiet breath and followed. Dread and anxiety curled around me, nearly freezing my lungs. My stomach churned as the memories came screaming to the surface of my consciousness.

  Luke pinned me to the floor, at this exact spot, taunting me with his knife.

  Luke wrapped his hands around my throat until my vision began to turn black.

  “Focus, Princess.”

  I gasped when Falon’s words penetrated the horrifying memories. Blinking, I looked around, half expecting Luke to be there, but it was only Falon and me. That wasn’t any more reassuring.

  “Luke’s not here. I won’t allow him. He’d be an unnecessary distraction.”

  I met his gaze but said nothing. I didn’t trust myself to speak. And I didn’t trust Falon. God, what a nightmare this had turned into.

  Falon smiled. “I know what happened here, but you can’t let the past dictate the now.”

  “You’re a hunter and philosopher? Interesting combination.” I turned away, needing to break contact with those creepy eyes.

  Maxim’s schedule had me here until noon. These would be two of the longest hours of my life. I owed Maxim for that. I would probably owe him for a lot more before the week was out.

  “Hey! Sorry I’m late. Maxim needed a good verbal bitch-slap to get him going.” Teryl hopped off the last stair and offered me a wide grin. “Morning. Ready to get started?”

  Falon’s white eyebrows drew down as he frowned. “Go away.”

  Teryl turned the big grin on him. “Falon, good to see you, too. I’m Elle’s adviser now. Where she goes, I go. You know”—he waggled his eyebrows—“so I can best advise her.”

  “No,” Falon said in a clipped tone, not buying Teryl’s cheerful attitude for a minute. I felt the chill of that single word from feet away.

  “Jedren appointed me,” Teryl replied. “You’re welcome to take it up with him if there’s a problem. Of course, I don’t recommend that.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know how he is about being interrupted.”

  Falon’s lips thinned in irritation. He turned on his heel and walked away, his white braid whipping around his shoulders.

  I barely restrained myself from hugging Teryl. He winked at me, and then watched Falon as he moved to the center of the mats. “No way in hell would I leave you alone with him,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

  I gave in to the urge to hug him. My best friend rocked. “I owe you,” I whispered back.

  The wide grin slipped back into place.
“Just make Maxim miserable. That’s all I ask.”

  “Oh please. I’d do that anyway.” With great relish.

  “Put this on,” Falon barked, as he threw a pile of clothes at me. It landed in a heap a few feet away.

  I sighed and walked over to pick up the clothes. And so it starts, I thought.

  I quickly changed into some sort of martial arts gi in the small bathroom just down the hall. The white cotton pants and top were the right size, but not at all flattering. I avoided looking in the mirror. Two hours, and then I could move on to other things.

  When I walked back into the room, I heard Teryl say to Falon, “I won’t allow that. Contact will be kept to a minimum and you won’t draw blood.”

  Falon’s smile chilled me. “Agreed.” Somehow, I knew he’d make me regret it.

  Teryl gave a tight nod, apparently having had the same thoughts I did. He leaned against the wall and gestured for me to hit the mats. “You’re on a tight schedule today. Just wanted to make sure Falon’s on the same page.”

  “Oh. Okay, then.” I turned to Falon. “I guess I’m ready f—” I choked on my words when the end of a gun pressed into my throat. I tried to swallow. What the hell?

  “Meet Enforcer,” Falon said against my hair. “First rule of training: awareness is critical. The difference between life and death.”

  “Awareness. Got it.” My voice sounded hoarse from the pressure of the cold metal.

  “Second rule: trust no one.”

  I wrapped both hands around the wrist holding the gun and carefully pushed his hand away. I met his blank white stare head on. “I already know that rule.”

  He lowered his chin and let the gun hang at his side. A few strands of white hair framed his face. He reminded me of an unhinged Gandalf. Except this Gandalf enjoyed hunting people. “Third and final rule,” he continued. “Anything can be killed. Anything.”

  Anything, not anyone. That was interesting. And I believed him. For the first time in my life, I looked around the room in which I’d been repeatedly tortured. A spark of hope flared, causing the memories to quiet. Maybe I had a chance.