Jivaja (Soul Cavern Series Book 1) Read online

  “Good evening. How do you know who I am?”

  Claude’s lips turned up in a smile, but his teeth remained hidden. “You resemble your photos. A bit older, perhaps, but unmistakable. There are a few others here who may recognize you. You must be careful. But if you want to save your daughter, you should come with me. I have a proposition for you.”

  What the hell was this? David clenched his fists and forced himself not to show a reaction beyond the clipped tone of his words. “Where is she?”

  “We don’t have much time, Mr. Trenow. If you will please follow my man, Salas, there.” Tall and broad shouldered, Salas filled the doorway which led to the hall.

  He knew this could be a trap. But what could he do? How else would he find Mecca in this crowd, in this huge house? His feet felt heavy, as though his shoes were filled with sand, but he forced them to move toward the door. Claude fell into step behind him.

  Salas led them a short way down the hall before he opened a heavy-looking oak door on the right. When the lights came on, David saw a small sitting room furnished in classic pieces, including a wide Queen Anne chair as the centerpiece. Floor to ceiling windows covered the far wall, flanked by thick, royal blue, velvet curtains. The room smelled like lemon Pledge. Strangely normal in a weird place among weird people.

  David stepped in and though Salas stood near the wall and seemed to ignore them, he couldn’t help but feel as if he’d just walked into the world’s biggest mouse trap. If that man had a gun, David didn’t have a chance.

  “I am going to make this quick, Mr. Trenow, because I was not being dramatic about time being short.” Claude closed the door behind him and paced into the room. “Right now, Mecca is being hunted. I believe she’s holding up well, however, bigger hunters are now entering the game. She's killed at least two people, most likely in self-defense.” He tilted his head and gave David a pointed look. “She doesn't seem the type to kill for no reason.”

  David's mind fogged with questions. “How do you know? That she’s killed someone?”

  “I've established a link with her. I can feel when she has an influx of energy. Perhaps she didn't actually kill anyone. But I doubt it.” Claude remained so still, David found it unnerving.

  “Where is she?”

  “Out on the grounds somewhere, but I can’t say exactly where” Claude said. “As I said, we don't have much time. I want to cut you a deal.”

  “I won’t let you hurt Mecca.”

  “I have no interest in hurting Mecca. I would, however, quite like someone with your talents available to me.”

  What the hell? “You’re with Emilia.”

  Claude smiled again, lips closed in a thin line. “Not as such. I have been honest in our talks thus far, so let me be plain now. I will make sure that Mecca walks out of here alive and free. I will further ensure that none of our kind will ever hunt her down again. In exchange, you will make yourself available to me as needed.”

  “For what?”

  “Nothing that would be adverse to you, I think.” A slight quirk upward of his lips. “There are certain people of my own race with whom I have some difficulties. You would only be employed to deal with those individuals.”

  “Kill them, you mean.” David’s voice had lowered, registering the tension that coiled in every muscle. To the side, he saw Salas pull himself into a straighter posture.

  Claude shrugged, the move refined, almost dainty. Yet David felt nothing but raw power from him.

  “I could kill you now,” David said, ignoring Salas, who bristled.

  “You could try, yes. You might succeed, certainly. But a moment later, you'd be dead.” Claude nodded toward where his big bodyguard stood. “And who would save your daughter? Emilia will have her at all costs if I do not intervene. If we are both dead, there is no one left to save her.” He paused for the briefest of moments. “Again, Mr. Trenow, we do not have the luxury of time. I need your decision. Now.”

  “So if I say no, you will kill her?” The thought of Mecca dying at the hands of these creatures almost made his breath stop in his lungs.

  “I would do nothing of the sort. But if you won’t agree to assist me, then Mecca is the only one I have left to persuade.”

  Either I become his murdering lapdog, or Mecca does. David still couldn’t rule out this man killing his daughter. Because he couldn’t see her ever agreeing to these terms. “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “Well, I suppose you don’t. But logically, if I betray you, you have no incentive to work for me. So it really is not in my best interest to go back on my word, is it?”

  “And Emilia?”

  “I’ll handle Emilia. Do I have your agreement then?”

  “You vow nothing will happen to Mecca?”

  “She will be left alone to live out her life.”

  “All right, fine.” You just made a pact with the devil, old boy. The words came into his head in his father’s voice. But if he could save Mecca, he would make a pact with Lucifer himself.

  “Very good,” Claude said. He had been very still through the entire conversation, and now his body went into motion, impossibly fast. He passed David and reached the door so quickly, David lost focus on him. “I believe I mentioned we are a bit pressed. It’s time to find your daughter.”

  With Claude leading, David in the middle, and Salas taking sweep, they moved through the crowded party rooms and out into the night. The smell of clove cigarettes hung in the air as people milled about the patio, talking about who would win the Game, and making wagers on their favorites.

  David didn’t understand what the Game was, but he didn’t think it could be anything good.

  Claude led them off the patio, onto the lawn, and then along the back of the house. A large hedge ran parallel, several dozen yards away. David saw an opening in the front as they passed, and it suddenly became clear. A maze. Who had a maze in their back yard these days?

  He wanted to ask about it, but something kept him from speaking. He didn’t want to interact with Claude more than he had to.

  David looked back. Salas followed behind, the tall man crouching somewhat. The sides of his suit jacket flapped as he moved.

  David didn't think he'd be able to take Salas in a fight. Broad-chested and thick with muscles, Salas looked like he might have been a boxer or perhaps a football player. Just as David turned his head back, the left side of Salas's jacket swayed open and David caught sight of the butt of a pistol at his hip. His attention again on Claude, David thought the gun would make another good reason he wouldn't be able to take Salas in a fight.

  They walked quickly, staying near the edge of the house and moving away from the party. Where were they going? Maybe this was the real trap. Maybe Claude would get him out in the darkness and that would be it.

  When they reached the edge of the tree line near the corner of the house, Claude motioned to follow — as if David had stopped — then moved into the darkness of the woods. Leaves and pine needles crunched beneath David’s step as he slid into the coolness.

  “I didn’t want to stay close to the maze,” Claude said in a soft voice. “It’s all open space. Nowhere to take cover. It won’t take long to get over there if we need to but this way, our approach isn’t obvious.”

  “Who are we hiding from?” David asked. If Claude was so powerful, why did he have to hide?

  “Emilia is looking for Mecca. She said she was going to come this way. Mecca is familiar with this side of the property, so I don’t think it’s unreasonable to think she might be here. In any case, we will be able to keep an eye on Emilia without her seeing us. She is the biggest threat to your daughter at this time.” Claude pushed his way through the thick underbrush.

  David followed close behind. He was close enough that he could reach out and touch Claude. And kill him. But with Salas at his back, with his gun, David didn’t like the odds. He also reasoned that Claude seemed to have a plan to save Mecca from Emilia. It might be best to let him live in order to re
scue Mecca, first. David would have plenty of time and opportunity to touch Claude later.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: Mecca

  Mecca left the guest house and made it halfway back down the path toward the house and the maze, when Emilia stepped in front of her about fifty feet away. At first, she looked like a mirage. A silver, glowing angel in the leafy darkness.

  How in the hell did she find me?

  “I didn’t expect you to come back,” Emilia said. “I thought I would have to track you down.”

  “How did you know I was here?”

  “You should have figured that out by now.” Emilia smiled, but kept her distance. The smart thing to do, considering she wore cocktail attire and had a lot of exposed skin for Mecca to latch on to.

  “Don’t play games with me. Tell me or don’t tell me.”

  “We’re linked. I can feel you, especially when you kill.”

  The guard’s bloody face flashed across Mecca’s mind’s eye, and she winced. But she hadn’t killed him. Emilia must have meant the two in the maze.

  “When someone rips out a child’s heart, she deserves to be killed. This is an evil game you play here.” Mecca kept her voice flat, holding in the anger that bubbled just below the surface suddenly. The light from the stars didn't penetrate the oil-black darkness of the forest. The path felt closed-in, claustrophobic. The smell of decaying leaves and pine needles hung heavy on the air.

  “Yes, I’ll grant you that it is archaic. But it’s a tradition among my kind. It's somewhat barbaric, but it is expected, and so I accommodate.”

  Mecca shuddered.

  “Why did you come back?” Emilia asked.

  “To kill you.”

  “Oh?” Surprise registered on Emilia’s face for a second with her raised brows, then disappeared. “I suppose I should have expected that.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “No, I didn’t. Because of our bond.” She smiled again. “You shouldn’t entertain those sorts of thoughts about me.”

  In some ways, you are mine already. The words came into Mecca’s head with Emilia’s voice.

  “What the fuck?” Mecca reeled back and put a hand to her forehead. “Get the hell out of my head!” Thoughts of the dinner on the balcony slipped through her mind. How she’d felt drawn to, almost compelled by Emilia. Mecca glared at her. “Your blood. You really put your blood into me!”

  “Yes.”

  Energy, her own and what she had taken from the two Visci in the maze, prickled below her skin, mingling with her anger. Scenes from her captivity and her escape flew through her mind.

  Emilia hadn’t moved from her spot on the path. “It will protect you. It will keep you young and strong.”

  “I don’t want it. I told you before that I don’t want it.”

  I’m sorry. It wasn’t really a choice. Emilia’s voice edged along Mecca’s mind, grating like metal on metal.

  “And Claude?”

  “What about Claude?”

  “You put his blood into me too?”

  “No.” Emilia's brow creased just above the space between her eyes.

  She doesn’t know. Mecca laughed out loud.

  Emilia regarded her and Mecca realized she could feel a hint of the woman’s edginess in her head.

  “Oh, this is great! You don’t know.” She laughed again. “The bond you’re talking about?” She stopped smiling and narrowed her eyes at the woman in front of her. “It’s stronger with Claude than with you.” Even as she said the words and got satisfaction from Emilia’s reaction, fear crept into her belly. If her bond with Claude was stronger, what could he make her do? But it wouldn’t help her to let Emilia know that. “You didn’t even know it.”

  Emilia made no reply, but Mecca could see her working out the details as her gaze hardened.

  “Enough.”

  “Your lackey, working behind your back. I wonder how else he’s betrayed you.” She lifted a hand. “Oh, wait, I already know.”

  Emilia made fists at her sides. Anger radiated from her and pushed against the edges of Mecca’s mind.

  “Do you know how I escaped? Did he tell you?” She shook her head. “No, I can’t imagine he did.” As she goaded Emilia, the energy in her rose higher with her adrenaline.

  “Mecca, it’s time for you to come back with me.”

  “He gave me directions out of the house and off the grounds. He sent his little buddy — well, big buddy. That guy’s huge — to distract the guard at the back gate so I could get out.” She kept her tone light.

  Emilia raised her right hand. Without warning, a sharp pain bit into Mecca’s thigh. A small dart embedded there, having plowed through her jeans and into the muscle. She reached down and pulled it out.

  Inertia flooded her body. The forest swayed in her vision. She blinked several times to straighten it out and put a hand out to the tree beside her, steadying herself.

  This is like déjà vu.

  She stumbled but did not go down. The energy in her battled the drug from the dart. Everything took on a glittery, silver glow. She blinked again and tried to clear her vision. She realized, too late, that Emilia had closed the distance between them and grabbed onto her arm. To help her or put her on the ground, Mecca didn’t know. But Emilia had been careful enough not to touch her skin directly.

  Mecca leaned forward and tried to lay a hand on Emilia’s forearm. Everything had doubled, and she couldn’t tell which forearm was the real one. Time had become herky-jerky.

  Something large crashed through the woods on her left. An animal? She found that caring wasn't an emotion she had.

  She reached out again and this time felt cool, soft skin beneath her skin.

  Emilia jerked away just as Mecca sent her energy out. Her life force slammed back into her, ejected.

  “Mecca, stop fighting me.”

  Horrified, Mecca found herself doing as ordered. Her arm fell limp at her side, and she couldn’t raise it again. Move, damn it! You’re not going to get another chance!

  “I don’t want it to be this way, but I'm not afraid to break you if I need to,” Emilia said. She lowered Mecca to the ground. “Will, help me.”

  Mecca felt as though someone had put a lead blanket over her. She could sit up, but couldn’t get any of her limbs to do as she wanted them to. Will's face swam into her field of vision from the left, where the crashing sound had come.

  “Mecca!” A voice from the woods. “Move!” Claude’s voice.

  The blanket lifted.

  Mecca still felt doped, but her body seemed to be more responsive as she raised her hand and clamped onto Emilia’s bare upper arm. The Asian woman registered surprise again, but this time it wasn’t so quick to get away.

  Mecca shot her energy out into the Cavern. She found a shining ball of golden light there, but the Cavern itself was cold, dead. Grey tendrils — dozens — rose from the ground and covered the ball, keeping it bound.

  The smell of smoke infected the air, but Mecca could see nothing of a fire.

  She’d never seen the Cavern so clearly. She didn’t know if it was because of the connection between them or because of all the energy she’d taken in earlier.

  The walls stood grey with age, the same color as the things that held the golden ball in place. Craters pockmarked every surface, some deep, others shallow. It looked as though droplets of water had slowly eroded those areas, even though that was impossible for some. Water doesn’t drip upward.

  Mecca sent her energy to surround the bright ball of light. The taste of a fresh snowfall flooded her mouth. Another surprise. She'd never had a taste in the Cavern before. She didn’t know what that meant and didn’t have to time work it out. She tugged at the ball, but the greyness held it tight.

  “No!” Emilia shoved Mecca away and fell onto her backside with the strength of her push. She looked dazed for a long moment.

  Mecca propelled forward, but strong hands wrapped around her. Will’s scent — musky and dark — enveloped her. He held
her tight to his chest.

  “Will, let go!” Mecca struggled against his grip. His hold on her was too strong.

  “I can’t. I’m sorry.” And she heard the regret in his voice, real.

  She groaned. “I’m sorry too.” She sent her energy into him and followed the warmth of his soul to the Cavern. It was easy to find. The ball of light glowed gold, with silver veins pulsing through it. Again, she tasted fresh, clean snow on her tongue. She still didn't understand it.

  Mecca slammed her energy into his, like a metaphysical head butt. She felt the jarring hit to her soul and staggered. She didn’t want to kill him. His grip on her loosened as he swayed too. She did it again and hoped this wouldn’t do real damage to either of them. She had no way to know.

  He broke his hold on her and stumbled down to the ground, more than dazed. With their break in contact, Mecca’s energy came back to her. Emilia, pine needles stuck in the sequins of her dress, was just pulling herself to her feet.

  “Mecca, stop.” Emilia’s voice rang with authority.

  When Mecca realized that her body had no response for Emilia’s words, she lunged at her. As soon as she felt skin to skin contact, she let her energy loose into the other woman, straight to the Cavern.

  She wasted no time tugging but circled the ball of light at its base, concentrating on sawing through the grey vines. At their bottom, where they merged with the wall of the Cavern, they had to be two inches in diameter. Mecca put more energy into the sawing, moving quickly, desperately.

  When the first tendril popped, Emilia’s screech assailed her ears.

  She managed to get one more ropey vine dislodged before Emilia threw her off. Emilia’s strength awed her.

  Mecca sailed six feet through the air and landed hard on her right leg. A mind-numbing crack and a knife of brilliantly and fiery pain in her shin tore a scream from her. Her heart pulsed as thumps of agony.

  “It’s not too late, Mecca. I don’t want it to end this way.” Emilia’s face looked drawn, old. Her beautiful acorn-colored eyes, world-weary, fixed on Mecca.

  “I will not be your pawn. You’re a monster.”