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“I think it’s time we called Leraie back in. We need Roth back. If we have someone doing Mara’s dirty work they aren’t going to make another move without him here.” Lucifer sighed deeply.
A dramatic pop sounded from behind their backs and Jezzie caught Lucifer rolling his eyes.
“You rang, my boy?” Leraie’s distinctive voice rang out in her best impersonation of a TV witch of a mother-in-law.
“Drama Queen,” he tossed back.
“Of course. It’s boring to be anything else. Let me guess . . . you want me to bring Roth back? No can do.”
“But—” Jezzie started but Leraie cut her off.
“I know, I know . . . Mara. You found the letter, my clever girl. Yes, he is an idiot. That’s why I let him go. A few weeks isn’t the few months I was planning on, but it’ll do. You’re just going to have to go get him, is all. He’s safe where he is, and you will be too. Take some time to sort it all out. The four of you. We can come up with a plan for the other stuff later. Well, you can since I can’t ‘interfere’ according to our blessed leader.” Leraie’s lip curled and sarcasm dripped like venom from her words. Her frustration with her limitations clear as day to the naked eye, and ear.
“What are you waiting for? Go!” Her words halted milliseconds before a portal swept sideways at them and swallowed them whole, Jezzie’s last sight was of Lucifer appearing annoyed and Leraie looking as pleased as punch before the portal took effect and zipped them away.
Utter misery encompassed Roth as rage beat at the cage of his chest. Impotent and unrelenting. He felt small, useless, afraid, and angry. The feelings felt foreign but real. A strange paradox of his and not his. Memories of his time with Mara moved like a carousel through his brain and he longed to switch off the ride. His shadows lashed at his body, cursing his stupidity. His choice to run and protect than to stay and defend.
“But was it stupid to protect his family, his loved ones from the horrors Mara could unleash on them? Wasn’t that a major part of his purpose, his design? Or was it his flaw?” he whimpered, the four walls closing in a little more with every day that passed.
“And to loves and cherish thems, that’s part of our purposes too, idiots,” his shadows yelled back. “To kiss thems, and licks them, and fucks them, too.”
The thought of being intimate with his mates again tore through him and filled him with equal parts desire and shame. He didn’t deserve them after how he’d treated them. How he’d pushed them aside and berated them, how he’d shamed and denigrated them.
“I love more than just my mates,” he defended. “My whole family, including the Hounds, are at risk. If she can get to me, she can get to them. And I definitely don’t want to fuck anyone other than my mates.”
“Goods, justss our mates, always our mates. All threes of thems.”
Roth shook his head. What? Three? Nithe was Jezzie’s mate, his bondmate, his family.
“That’sss what you thinks. You can see how sexy he is, I knows you can. Thinks abouts it.”
“No more thinking, no more pain. It hurts too much in here. We need more firewood.” He wasn’t sure if he was referring to the pain in his chest, within the cocoon of his shadows, the cabin walls, or his never-ceasing existence.
Roth straightened his back, pulled the unruly shadows in before he lost his sanity, and pushed the memories from his mind.
Heading out the door he tore off his shirt and tossed it on a chair on the porch and grabbed the ax from its place near the steps.
Some good, old-fashioned hard work until he could neither see nor stand should help numb the agony. Please let if fucking help.
Jezzie was fucking tired of being shoved through fething portals. It was getting to be a bad habit at this point. And seriously, why the hell couldn’t Leraie just open a portal and step out right in front of his damn door? Oh, that’s right, some dumb fuck decided you can’t just appear inside someone else’s illusion bubble. No, instead you had to walk up to, and through the stupid thing.
Why’d Roth have to go and make this one so frickin’ huge, anyway? Anyone would think he didn’t want our awesome company. It was enough to hurt a girl’s feelings really.
Well, he better not be stupid enough to think he could just up and leave us behind so easily. He owed her an explanation, and he was going to sing like a bird. More importantly, he owed Athon a massive, huge, ass kissing apology. They were both hurting so bad.
That’s the thing with bonded mates, apparently, no distance was too far, the bond was always there. Roth’s turmoil and torment pulsed through, however faintly, and while the line of telepathic communication was closed on his end, his feelings slipped through the closer they traveled.
Yes, she was pissed. He’d been gone too long already. She’d been so upset when he left she’d locked down her emotional response and focussed on searching for a way to get him back. At one point she’d raged, said good riddance, and given up. If he hadn’t wanted her badly enough then he was free to walk, which he did, but it hadn’t made it hurt any less.
Now they knew about Mara’s note and were on their way to his hideout thanks to Leraie finally helping them. They’d set off happy and ready to kiss him senseless and drag his hot ass home. The longer they walked, the more angry she got though.
As they traversed the rocky terrain of the Australian wilderness, the bush as they called it there. The dry sticks on the ground flicked up to randomly scratch at Jezzie’s legs. The twigs on the almost bare branches which crowded their way forward snagged at her clothing and hair. Why in the name of the Devil’s daughter had she worn a freaking dress again? Yeah, the old ‘turn up looking cute and sexy, so he can’t resist you’ thing was turning into more of a ‘lost in the woods for three weeks’ kinda look. Bleeding scratches and cuts, torn clothing, tangled and knotted hair. Yep, she looked totally badass and not pathetic at all. Cue sarcasm so strong her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head at her own internal monologue.
Seriously though, she could fight monsters in Nestradia, taunt and lure evil psychopaths to their deaths, and endure torture all while looking flawless, but the bloody Australian outback had her looking like an angry, deranged mess in less than an hour. Go figure.
They’d been walking for about forty minutes already and despite those irritations she had to admit the air was so clean and pure, the sun was bright in the sky, despite the evident chill carried on the winter breeze. Even the sounds of the birds and other wildlife made the place feel almost magical . . . If you could forget about the deadly creatures the place was known for and avoid the damned sticks and prickles. The cat-head bindis were the worst. She could feel them embedding themselves into the bottom of her boots while other spiky things were tall enough to scratch her legs. Fuckers were going to be a pain in the ass to remove.
Her lips tilted up into a wicked smirk. Athon had been so serious of late. Too serious, really, and he hated earth snakes . . . Ironic really, given he’d told her his code name in the Hounds was ‘Snake’ because Leviathon meant serpent in the old language. He’d been named such for his unique eyes.
