 
RYDER ON THE STORM

For Autumn and Maddox,

Someday when you are ever so much older

I will finally let you read this.

Trace Broyles

Copyright 2011 by Trace Broyles

Smashwords edition

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used factitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons (living, dead, or undead) is quite honestly coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission from the author or publisher.

Cover Design By

Tammie Gibbs

Once Upon A Book Cover

Acknowledgements

First and foremost, my biggest fans, Autumn and Maddox, I send a million thanks for being the motivation to do something more with myself.

Thanks Mom for reading everything I write and being moral support in this endeavor. Dad, thank you for teaching me about real music and imbuing me with your excellent taste in tunes.

Ryan, in many ways I couldn't have done this without you – you are the good, the bad, and the ugly for me. I know you will get my meaning, you always do.

Many thanks to Tammie Clarke Gibbs for the amazing cover work!

Storm

When you first realize you are different it can come as a shock. It should come as a shock. For Storm Sullivan it had been different. She felt nothing, just took it in stride, staring blankly into the fireplace while her mother hyperventilated. Storm was seven at the time. Her first vision seemed as simple as a daydream. It hadn't hurt back then. No headaches or blinding pain. The most uncomfortable part of the experience was the rough fabric of the 70s style sofa chafing her legs. Storm kept adjusting the blue gingham-checked romper while Aunt Trin stroked her auburn curls, from the nape of her neck to her waist and over again.

Her mother wept as she explained the family curse. Storm stared at her, stone-faced, replaying her vision and thinking about her mother's fragility. Aunt Trin kept stroking her hair, the gentle rhythm a soothing gesture in the wake of her mother's emotions. Storm felt annoyed. The vision had been a simple one, her friend Sami stealing a pack of gum from the corner store and receiving a stern talking to after being caught. It hadn't even fazed her. But her mother, well, Sophie Sullivan's hopes of the curse passing over her only child were dashed in an instant.

Storm looked at her mother, mascara dripping down her cheeks like a sad circus clown, wild desperation and sadness warring behind her eyes. Aunt Trin had spoken up at just the right moment, "Sophie, luv, it will be fine. You knew it was a better chance than not that our Storm would receive the Sight as well. She is taking it better than you. Why don't you go put on some tea and I will figure out what she saw?"

Mother had nodded obligingly before disappearing into the kitchen. Aunt Trin had turned to her, those lovely emerald eyes flashing with excitement, "She did not take that well did she, luv?"

Storm suppressed an eye roll and forced herself to shake her head instead. As always with her aunt, the words flowed easily. Without emotion she relayed what had played out in the vision and Aunt Trin listened in earnest. She reclined back against the arm of the sofa and folded her hands together, the enormous jeweled rings clicking like castanets. Aunt Trin and her mother looked so much alike, from their creamy, clear complexions to their wide emerald eyes, but Storm marveled at how opposite their personalities ended up. Storm sighed as her mother sobbed loudly in the kitchen - very loudly since the dining room and a hallway stood between them.

Aunt Trin rolled her eyes, "I will take care of her. Don't fret about your mother, luv. Tomorrow morning I will call Sami's mother and give her a heads up. I believe you have done your friend a service. Why don't you get ready for bed, huh?" She passed her mother on the way out of the parlor and heard Aunt Trin begin recanting the vision. Her mother cried harder. Storm knew that Aunt Trin would be holding her, stroking her hair in that same soothing way. She climbed the stairs to her room and readied for bed wondering what life had in store for her now that her mind had opened to the Sight.

*****************************

Storm sighed and brushed the memory away. Looking around, she realized everyone had left. Storm was the last one standing – in more ways than one. Aunt Trin was gone. Aunt Trin who taught Storm about the visions, how to track and interpret them, and most importantly how to recover from the pain of one. Aunt Trin who'd taught her the craft and raised Storm after her mother gave up on life. Aunt Trin who was being lowered into the ground, the grinding of gears echoing through the graveyard. The stargazer lilies on the top of her coffin were wilting in the heat. Sweat dripped off Storm's brow. She wondered briefly if the sheen gave the appearance of tears. Trin would have liked that. The tears simply would not come, they never had. Most people thought her heartless. She didn't understand it, couldn't change it, wasn't even sure if she wanted to. Aunt Trin had told her time and again that there was a reason for her emotional paralysis. Storm just wished she could summon a few tears for the only person she'd ever cared about.

Two caretakers emerged from a truck with shovels and began filling the grave; burly men with sweat stains under their arms that spread in all directions across the gray polyblend jumpsuits. The larger man even had sweat lines down his back. Storm refrained from sneering as she approached them, her heels sinking into the soft soil with each step.

"Could I have another moment, please?" She loosed the belt of her jacket revealing the navy sheath dress beneath. As expected the caretakers' eyes bulged slightly at her defined curves and nodded in that stunned manner Storm had become accustomed to long ago. Once they were out of sight, she knelt beside the grave and took a handful of dirt from the pile. With the other hand Storm reached into the pocket of her jacket and withdrew a vial. She cast them both into the grave, stood up, brushed herself off, and nodded toward the caretakers to proceed. Storm felt their eyes on her as she walked away and pulled her jacket tightly around her, in spite of the sweltering heat.

In the driver's seat of her VW Beetle, Storm exhaled. It was done. Everything she'd been asked to do. She was free. Sort of. The visions would still plague her. Unless she could break the curse. Storm started her car and flicked the radio on, this one's for you Aunt Trin, as Jim Morrison blew through the speakers with her namesake song.

Ryder

Ryder closed the musty tome and placed it upon the cherry table beside him. The fire glowed against the ancient hearth of Durstine Manor's vast library, his favorite room for more reasons than one. A complex pattern of stone and grout, the fireplace ran floor to ceiling and covered more than half of the wall. Opposite the fireplace stood ornately carved double-doors with heavy wrought iron handles and matching hinges. He'd had them shipped over in pieces from Scotland, along with the sconces that lined each hall of the manor. Aside from the doors and the hearth, the library walls were floor to ceiling shelves overflowing with tomes from every age of man. Ryder had read them all, retained most of the information, and continued to seek more. Unlike the majority of his brethren, Ryder understood that knowledge was the true power and any who could wield it would prosper. As a result, he'd managed to do quite well for himself over the years.

Ryder tilted his head, footsteps echoed in the hallway, heels judging by the click. They came to a stop just outside his door. Reaching into his pocket, Ryder withdrew a small strip of leather and tied his shoulder-length, raven hair in a low ponytail. He stood and straightened his light V-neck shirt, adjusted his belt and slipped his notebook beneath the book he'd been reading.

"Come in, Angeline."

The heavy oak door slid open slowly followed by the polished assistant he had been forced to hire to replace Keene. He refused to think about that now. Besides, Ryder found Angeline to be adequate, and certainly easy on the eyes. Her hair always upswept in a chignon, held in place with gold-plated chopsticks. She most frequently wore a black skirt suit with satin or silk blouses of various colors. Tonight however, she had selected a kimono dress, brilliant blue with embroidered dragons whose heads met at the most opportune place.

"It is done, my liege." Angeline approached and handed him a blood red card the size of an invitation. A smile played across her mouth. "The Hunters seek Keene as we speak and the girl is being followed. She has shown no signs of supernatural skill."

"Well done, Angeline. Notify me when the Hunters have located Keene. He does not matter much, provided the girl shows no signs." Ryder looked to the card, pasted on it was a death notice for Trin Sullivan, last of a gifted line of Seers. He exhaled, the gravity of the accomplishment setting in. Flicking his hand in dismissal he turned to watch Angeline leave. Such a sweet sight, surely she had no lack of suitors, though not his type.

Turning the card over in his hands, Ryder pictured Trin as he knew her. Long flaming hair, bright green eyes full of fire and life, she had once been his greatest hope. Ryder flung the card into the fire and bowed his head. It was over; he would have to find another way.

Storm

The apartment sat empty but for a few boxes scattered about the kitchen and living room. Storm lifted one and headed out to the small moving truck. Dan and Shane were still arguing over the placement of the last load she took out. Two absolutely gorgeous men, brothers and her closest friends, they spent more time bickering than moving. At least they loaded the furniture on the back of the truck before laying into each other today. She paused for a moment to appreciate the scenery, rippling muscles glistening with sweat down to the waistbands of their matching mesh shorts. Storm thought of all the times she'd turned them down – separately and together – maybe she shouldn't have. She pictured herself running her fingers through their silky, sand-colored hair, tracing the contours of their defined chests, sliding down their six pack abs, teasing the waistlines of their shorts, could be the best first time ever. Maybe she could start a new journal and label it "Seer Sexcapades." Storm chuckled to herself, her only sex experiences came in the form of romance novels, her dirty pleasure. Man, she was on a roll today, too bad it existed only in her head.

"Guys, there are three boxes left in the apartment, since I have handled the last several loads while you two stood here bickering I am going to call it a day. I am taking Pac Man and heading over to the manor. You don't have to lock up but please don't take too much longer, alright? I promised the landlord I'd be out by dark." Storm dropped the box on the ground next to the others and slipped into her Beetle where Pac Man waited. He was already drooling, his tongue hanging out to one side and his little eyes flickering beneath their lids. She'd found the pit bull at a humane society in Alabama. They had tried to talk her out of it because he'd been abused and was scheduled to be put down due to his ferocity. Apparently nobody could get close to him. Still, Storm had a vision about the dog saving her and checked animal shelters in every place she lived. It took eight months but she knew him the moment she saw him. When she approached his cage, Pac Man stopped growling and started to whimper. As long as Storm stayed with him, Pac Man allowed the staff to check him over and administer shots. They released him to her care with just a little magical coercion. So, Pac Man stayed with her.

Storm cranked the air conditioning and that spurred him to sit up and sniff at the vent. He finally noticed her presence. "How do you intend to save me if you don't even know when I am around?" She reached over and rubbed his head. "Let's go home buddy."

Dan and Shane were still arguing as she pulled away. She decided to curse them if they didn't make it to the manor by dark. That seemed fair. Thankfully she packed her toiletries and other necessities in the Beetle. A cold shower sounded perfect. Bangs stuck to her forehead, tank top clinging to her back and wait, she could actually smell herself. Wonderful, surely Dan and Shane will find this attractive. Maybe it is best they take a little longer. I will never hear the end of it if they smell me like this.

The ride to Willow Wood had not changed in the ten years since she last walked out the white-washed front door. Of course it passed to her as the last surviving Sullivan. It still didn't seem real, still didn't make sense. She'd gotten a strange letter from her aunt, wouldn't have recognized it as Aunt Trin's if not for the handwriting. Storm had turned it over in her hands, the plain notecard with gilded edging. It triggered a vision of the murder. When Dan and Shane knocked on her door, Storm sat waiting in the kitchen with a pot of coffee on. She didn't cry.

At least she wasn't considered a suspect. Apparently the crime scene seemed too gruesome for a woman and they labeled it a gang-related attack, some sort of initiation. She didn't bother to argue. It didn't matter who did it. It didn't change the end result.

At some point a social worker showed up at her door, some sort of grief counselor dressed in shabby clothes, her plain face obscured by large framed glasses. The social worker handed her a card for a crisis line and offered to listen if Storm wanted to talk.

She never called the crisis line either. Sullivan women were prepared for the loss of their own, it came with the territory. They had been dwindling for generations, a powerful line of mystics nearly eradicated by generations of mysterious deaths. Storm knew the stories well. Aunt Trin had been overly cautious with their security and not just the technological kind. Her aunt's murder had been unlike the others though, far more brutal, no mystery to the humans. Storm knew better, she saw knives in the dark and strange runes marking the walls of the vast room. Aunt Trin should have known better than to put herself in such a situation, there had to be more to it.

Pulling into the drive she sighed heavily. Pac Man snorted in the passenger seat. "I know buddy, I know. You will like it here though, lots of room to run." Storm left the car idling while she opened the gate. The wrought iron bars were sealed with thick rusted chains and a large padlock. She fished the key out of her pocket. It felt heavy in her hand. The key had been delivered by the attorney with all of the paperwork including a small, handwritten note on a piece of parchment – Accept your destiny, you offer hope to many.

She would never accept it. Storm Sullivan may be returning home to Willow Wood but she had no intentions of going down that path – ever. She'd formulated a two part plan, solve the murder and sell the place. With money like that Storm could travel for the rest of her life, never having to stop long enough to risk exposure, and hopefully avoid the Sullivan fate.

Ryder

Ryder Cohen stood over the fresh grave, stargazer lilies in hand. No headstone had been laid yet. He wondered what the inscription would read. Would they use her full name? She hated that name. Ryder laid the lilies on the fresh soil and bowed his head.

"It is done then?" The voice came from behind him. Lucian must have materialized.

"Why can't you master the modern ways of transport? Humans are around, you could be seen." Ryder shook his head and stood to face the new arrival. "Yes, it is done."

"I understand you must be disappointed. She meant something to you?" Lucian's steel eyes studied his every movement. His face seemed gaunt; the flannel shirt and jeans hung on his form. His dark brown hair looked oily and unkempt even longer than he usually wore it. Ryder noticed dried blood crusted on a gash over his left eye but did not mention it.

"She did, for a time. It could never be under our laws. Immortals and Seers have never mixed." Ryder shrugged and deflected, "You do not look well Lucian, do you intend to stay for a while? I have plenty of room as you well know."

Ryder felt Lucian prodding his mind and quickly blocked his thoughts. "Kindly remove yourself from my head, I have done nothing wrong. The Hunters are tracking my last loose end and I have a watcher on the girl. I am holding up my end of the bargain, Lucian."

"I merely hoped to understand why you are here. I mean no offense, brother. I am truly your friend." Ryder felt a thick hand on his shoulder, "You must learn to relax, man, you are always so tense." The more characteristic, swashbuckler's grin spread across his companion's face.

"You know I do not like anybody probing my mind. But if we are trading troubles, why are you so thin? What have you been into?" Ryder gestured to the slash across Lucian's bicep and blood soaking through his right pant leg near the knee.

"There was a rogue coven causing some trouble just outside London. I intervened, it got ugly, and they had a goblin. I found the scuffle exhilarating. Sadly, I need time to heal and the others will have dissolved the coven by now so I will have to wait for the next supernatural uprising." Lucian smiled mischievously reminding Ryder of their past adventures as enforcers.

"A goblin? It has been a while since one of those surfaced. I am glad you had a good spar. I am heading home now if you would care to join me you are most welcome." Ryder led his friend to the black Benz he'd "borrowed" for the drive over. It would not do to have any of his vehicles at the cemetery. Lucian raised an eyebrow but slid into the passenger seat.

"It has been a while, Ry. What have you been up to?"

Ryder glanced at Lucian out of the corner of his eye as he slid the car into drive. "This issue has been time consuming, far more complicated than I imagined, Lucian. Trin Sullivan was different than the others, far more powerful. I am relieved it is over. It is time for a new mission; I am weary of this one."

Lucian scowled, "Enough of this serious talk. I did not come to discuss work. It has been decades, what are you up to other than Seer-slaying? Have you met anyone? Any women in this lifetime?"

"No. I may take it solo for a while longer. Jasmine was hard on me." Ryder blinked out her face, the smell of her hair, the feel of her skin; he could not go there now.

"Jasmine was special, brother. Women like her are hard to come by in this modern world, pure in soul and wild in bed." Lucian wagged his eyebrows, "I am flying solo as well. Of course, that does not stop me from enjoying women as I see fit."

"Lucian, you give us all a bad name." He chuckled silently as he navigated the route back to the manor, "How long are you in town?"

"That remains to be seen, friend."

"Stay as long as you will. We can catch up and I would like to bend your ear on something I am working on."

Lucian settled into the seat, "Well then, start talking. I love a good research project."

"You said no more serious talk. Tell me about the goblin, how did you take him out?"

Storm

Storm pushed open the white-washed doors in the most dramatic fashion she could muster; something she'd always wanted to do and finally could. Aunt Trin had left the doors unlocked and the foyer looked exactly as it always had, other than the wilted bouquet of lilies upon the round, marble-topped, catch-all table. Trin's keys were laid out in small porcelain dishes around the vase; dead petals littered half of them. Storm ran her fingers over the nearest dish, a Lamborghini symbol on the keychain. She smiled. Her favorite car from the lot, the one she parked her Beetle next to in the massive attached garage. She'd always shared her aunt's love of cars, especially fast ones.

Pac Man snorted and sneezed. He lumbered over, plopped on her foot and rolled to his back exposing his pink underbelly. Some faint scars littered his left side, a reminder of the abuse he'd sustained as a pup.

"You are such a big baby. I am not rubbing your belly now. Let's go up to my room so I can shower before the guys get here." Storm looked up the massive double staircase, modeled after the one used in Gone with the Wind. Cherry wood railings usually wound with seasonal lights were now bare, odd in and of itself; Aunt Trin had always liked the twinkling lights year round. The carpet that ran the middle of the stairs seemed worn, threadbare in a few places where they had been tread one too many times. She would need to replace the lot of it.

Twenty steps to the landing and she found herself gazing out into the back yard, the orchard where she hid as a child, the storage shed where she received her first kiss, the white washed cottage where Aunt Trin kept an herb garden for potions. All looked a bit worse for the wear but essentially unchanged. Storm relished the picturesque quality of the blooming trees; she'd painted the orchard several dozen times and actually won an award for a photography study of the trees. It seemed like an eternity ago. She found herself wondering about the harvest this year. Storm wondered who had handled it last season. Perhaps there were receipts in the study, though she doubted Trin kept much by way of books. Dammit. Stop procrastinating.

Storm's large boho purse weighed on her shoulder and the duffel bag straps dug into her palm as she climbed the next twenty steps. The room at the top of the stairs had belonged to her mother. Through the open door Storm could tell that Trin had not touched anything since Sophie's passing. The four poster bed still covered by an heirloom quilt and pictures of Storm on the bedside table, all antique pieces of course, exactly as they had been ten years ago. She forced her feet forward remembering the need for a shower when the stench of sweat and body odor overwhelmed her reverie.

The next two doors opened into guest suites with private baths where Dan and Shane would most likely pass the night. Storm had the room at the end of the hall, opposite her old studio. Storm sighed and pushed open the door to her past. It did not escape her notice that it was the only closed door she'd come across.

Her bedroom looked exactly as she'd left it. The heavy violet velvet curtains were parted and hung over wrought iron tie backs. Sheers of various shades of purple still draped the matching wrought iron bed, the lilac satin bedspread half turned down to reveal silky silver sheets. Yes, she had been in a romantic Goth phase before she'd left. The walls were still plastered with her favorite posters, a shirtless Jim Morrison, Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's, several John Hughes movie posters, and a tour poster for Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. Her bookshelf still overflowed with Stephen King, Jane Austen, and Tolkien. A well-worn copy of Catcher in the Rye lay half open on her nightstand.

Everything came back in a rush, the reason she fled. Seventeen years old, two weeks after her high school graduation, and a vision that rocked Storm to her core. She slipped out in the middle of the night and never looked back. Storm had not told a soul about the vision. She simply threw some clothes in a knapsack, grabbed her purse and hopped on her Vespa. The crisp autumn air had done little to numb the shock of seeing her own death.

Aunt Trin had tried her cell phone for weeks after she ran away. Storm ignored the calls and eventually chucked the phone altogether. At some point she'd mailed a postcard letting Aunt Trin know she was alive but that was all. Storm swore she would find a way to prevent the vision from occurring and hopefully find a way to end the visions altogether. If Aunt Trin knew she'd have stopped Storm and that would have made her an accomplice, would have made her life forfeit as well. Storm could not risk that.

Eight years Storm traveled the world, hopping cruise ships where she worked as a waitress and moonlighted as a cartoon artist doing those silly caricatures. Europe, Asia, Australia, each destination meant new resources, new witches and warlocks, other Seers and mystics, even a smattering of other supernaturals who might hold the key. Every lead came up empty. The visions continued and she logged them all. One of the boxes on the moving truck held more than 50 journals detailing the visions she'd had since leaving Willow Wood. Nobody knew about them and nobody would. It would never be safe for her. As long as she never acted on her visions, Storm could pretend and blend in with everyone else. The Immortals would never learn she could foresee her own death, never learn how deep her Sight could go. The thought of being their toy, their instrument, chilled her to the bone.

For a few years she felt guilty, hurts she could have prevented but didn't. Some as simple as a theft or broken bone, others more devastating. Of course, if she saw something deadly an anonymous tip mysteriously made it to the authorities, but always from an untraceable cell or payphone and then she would move on. Storm learned how to balance things; she had to in order to survive.

One horrifying vision, one moment, changed everything about her, made her hate herself in ways that did not make sense, made her miss her mother and most of all, made her want to apologize to Sophie for the tears she'd wept at that first vision. Storm understood everything after her death vision, understood even among Seers she would be an anomaly, hunted by her kind and coveted by the Immortals as a weapon. The Seer's Circle would imprison her or kill her to prevent the Immortals from collecting her. The Immortals would track her and imprison her to be their fortune teller. Either way, she would not be allowed to remain free. No matter how strong her family's influence. So, Storm ran. To save herself and her family she left. In the end, it merely delayed the inevitable.

After years without answers, Storm stood in the place where it all began. She dropped her bags on the bed and peeled off the sweat-drenched clothing. A cool shower would set things right, at least for the moment. Destiny may be unavoidable, but it certainly could wait a little while longer, until she had a shower at least.

Ryder

Ryder returned the car to its owner and left a wad of cash in the console. He led Lucian to the strategically parked Jeep Wrangler and sped off toward home.

"Why do you do that?"

Ryder knew what he meant. He remained an oddity among the Immortal Brethren, in more ways than one, but he often played dumb to make life easier. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean, Ry. Why do you bother returning it or leaving money or anything? We are superior and it is our right to exercise that superiority within the Code." Lucian paused briefly and Ryder realized his visit was more involved that it appeared. "You are an odd one Ryder. The Brethren are concerned that you are drifting from the goal. I assured them that you were still on board and the death of the Seer stands as evidence of that. They remain unconvinced. I confess I have been sent to speak with you on this matter."

It was Ryder's turn to sigh, more of a grunt of annoyance really, the Brethren were shortsighted and power hungry – the wrong combination. "Well then, ask what you came to ask of me, Lucian. I have nothing to hide. I eradicated the line of Sullivan Seers since they were deemed most dangerous. I am hunting down the last loose end. We may arrive at the manor to find him awaiting us in chains. What more would I need to do to prove myself to the Brethren? It seems they wish to make me an enforcer again. You know I no longer wish to live under their thumb."

Ryder cast a sidelong glance at Lucian who seemed to be working hard to disguise his true emotions. Ryder felt the internal conflict, friendship and duty at odds in his friend. Lucian had been his friend since their beginnings. They trained together, evolved together, and now Lucian felt influenced against him by the Brethren. Perhaps they were not as foolish as he once thought. They did send a friend and clearly gave him some reason to doubt Ryder's loyalties.

"Ry, I am not against you, Brother. I am on your side. I volunteered to come, just in case, I – well, you know we go way back and I would never turn on you."

"I know Lucian, but truly, I have nothing to hide that should concern the Brethren. I am working on something and I will share it with you. I have discovered some holes in our archives that concern me and should concern all of us." Ryder wanted to tell Lucian everything, wanted to share his true discoveries, but he could not bear to put his friend in such a precarious position, it would be better to send him in another direction. It would give him something to take to the Brethren to occupy their time for the foreseeable future, and it was only partial bullshit. Ryder nearly snickered; instead he turned up the radio and started singing to the tune, a cool number by the Doors that had been a long standing joke between them. Lucian recognized the song and chimed in, a broad smile on his drawn face.

Storm

Storm stepped out of the shower, wrapped a ratty old towel around her form, the only one left in her bathroom. She cursed herself for forgetting to hunt one down before climbing into the old claw foot tub. Shaking her hair out and minding her step so as not to slip on the slate flooring, she crossed back into the bedroom and checked the front drive. No sign of Dan and Shane. Of course. They were probably still fighting.

Neither one answered their phone. Storm sent them each a text before throwing on the lounge pants and tank she'd had the foresight to pack. Chuckling at her play on words, Storm ran a pick through her hair and whipped it up in a bun. And it hit; the searing white pain that felt as pleasant as an ice pick through her skull.

When she came to, Dan and Shane were standing over her, concern evident on their faces. Storm pushed aside the vision for the moment and feigned a weak smile. "Took you boys long enough, I actually passed out from hunger!"

"Storm, what happened? We searched the whole house and found you in here with Pac Man whimpering next to you."

"I told you, Shane. Very hungry, food with you, passed out." Storm struggled to sit up on her elbows. Dan slipped an arm behind her for support and Shane handed her a glass of water. They were two very sweet men. Looking from one to the other she felt safe for the moment; they would both do anything to keep her safe. If only they could. She would wrap herself between them and lose herself in their warmth. They were both still sweaty and their muscles bulged from the physical strain of the move. Shane's sandy locks lay haphazardly about his head, those in back curling at the nape of his neck. Several stray hairs had escaped from Dan's low ponytail giving him an even greater sex appeal than usual as they fell across his left eye. Truly beautiful men who wanted her, and she had to get rid of them. This one could not wait until they unloaded the truck.

"Guys, I am famished. Would you please take my car and run into town for some pizza?" The pair exchanged a worried glance and shrugged. That was easier than she'd expected, but, just to be safe, "Could you go to Sale's? I could really go for a deep dish and a beer. And if you don't mind, maybe a quick run to the grocery store for some staples, you know eggs, coffee, the usual." Hopefully she didn't overdo it with the sweetness, it sounded fake to her.

"You must have hit your head hard, Storm. " Shane raised an eyebrow at her, "You are never this nice, almost sounded like a lady for a second."

Storm flung a pillow at him as the guys scurried out her door. It bounced off the wall and fell to the floor. She waited until the Beetle's engine started before yanking her most recent journal from her purse. Thumbing through the pages she ran her finger over the words detailing her last vision, the one from two days ago. Somewhat similar but she knew they were different. Storm thought back to the current vision, wrote it moment by moment, and then compared again. Different shirt color, yesterday was green but today was bright pink. She didn't own a pink shirt, hated pink in fact. Why would she be wearing pink?

Okay, other differences. The warehouse looked different. Yesterday, there were boxes, stacks of boxes in all directions. Today, today it was empty but for an old car, a mustang perhaps, bright red. Her feeling, she felt frightened yesterday, the fear caught in her throat before she came out of it. Today, well, she felt exhilarated. Something excited her; heart racing in a completely different manner, like, well, like she was aroused. Storm didn't see her death today, didn't feel the steel piercing her abdomen, didn't feel the warmth of blood spreading down her legs as she stood looking at the faceless man. She never saw his face, just a body with a misty cloud where a face should have been. Today she felt different warmth rising in her abdomen, sweat beaded up in her palms and a smile spread across her face. She could feel. Storm sucked in her breath at the memory. The man in today's vision made her feel. This man had raven locks that touched his bare shoulders, and his body, the most smooth, sculpted chest she'd ever seen. And that was saying something given her previous company. His faded blue jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped revealing the waistband of undies that could only be boxer briefs. Wow. Why couldn't she have more visions like that? She would take the searing head pain if it meant seeing him again.

Storm's mind drifted, wonder and hope warring within her. A beautiful man, one stunning male specimen like no other she'd ever met - one who made her feel. A tear dribbled out of her eye, down her cheek, and onto the journal page. Storm marveled at it. She'd never cried, not once in her life. This was bad. This was very bad.

Ryder

Lucian whistled as they pulled into the garage. "Brother, you have done well for yourself. I truly appreciate the digs, my man. You will have to give me pointers. Is that a Maserati?"

Ryder grinned, "Absolutely. Want to take it for a spin? I also have a classic Mustang and a Delorean."

"I am definitely staying long enough to test drive everything you have collected. More importantly, we are going out on the town tonight, and I am driving."

Ryder noted the hungry look in Lucian's eyes as they passed each car. "You know, you could have this as well if you would just settle for a while. It is becoming more common among Immortals, especially with all the modern technology."

"Beautiful specimens like these are almost enough to make me give up the Nomad way." Lucian ran his fingertips across the hood of the bright yellow Hummer.

Ryder stopped and raised an eyebrow at Lucian as he pushed open the door into the back hall.

"I said 'almost,' brother." A throaty chuckle followed as Lucian crossed the threshold, his steel-toed cowboy boots clicked loudly on the hardwood and echoed down the length of the hall.

"I figured you would qualify that statement. Still, there is something to be said for the steady life. I have set myself as a recluse and the wealth of my enterprise allows for such an eccentricity. Not to mention, I can have an 'heir' and with a little sleight of hand, reinvent myself every once in a while as necessary." Ryder shouted down the hall after Rosalee, the only regular housekeeper he'd kept for this life. A rather voluptuous witch with a rocking nightlife, she had a small brood of her very own. Ryder often wondered if Rose even knew the fathers of her children. Rosalee liked to keep their business arrangement quite separate from their personal lives, except for the mornings she rolled in with dark glasses and hair quite askance. Those mornings she regaled her antics from the previous evening and he nodded along as expected.

Rosalee glided around the corner sporting a shocking pink spandex dress that left little to the imagination. Paired with black fishnet tights and shiny black stilettos, it seemed a rather odd choice for a housekeeper. As the light reflected off her shining raven locks, clearly sprayed with glitter and a can of hairspray, three things occurred simultaneously: Lucian whistled, Rosalee exaggerated her hip sway; Ryder elbowed his friend in the gut.

"Lucian, this is Rosalee. Rosalee, my good friend, Lucian. Will you adjust the wards before you leave, I'd like him to come and go as he pleases. You can take off early Rose, it appears you have some sort of engagement this evening." Ryder hid his disapproval as always, though this evening's attire seemed worse than her usual. Ryder shook his head as Rosalee sashayed away. Good thing he paid her so well because that woman could be trouble.

"I would stay away from that one, brother. She already has eight children and you are not the fatherly type."

"Eight you say? Well, that is no great surprise given that get up." Lucian nodded appreciatively once more. "I need a drink."

Ryder led his companion through the massive formal dining room toward the study. He allowed Lucian a moment to appreciate the mirror-lined walls and parquet floor, run his hand along the custom mahogany table and chairs, and take in the matching antique chandeliers. Ryder pushed open the doors to his study. Rosalee had lit a fire in the hearth. For all her eccentricities, Rose could be the best housekeeper Ryder ever employed, and one of the more talented witches.

Lucian crossed the study with instinctive knowledge of the liquor's location. How did he always know? Ryder had long ago made a game of hiding his stash. Lucian had to have heightened sense of smell as a gift. It made sense. The Immortals were forbidden from divulging their unique gifts to other members of the brethren. Unless you stumbled across another Immortal's gifts by chance you would never know what they were capable of. It not only evened the playing field it protected their secret. Only two of Ryder's gifts had ever been discovered, one by Lucian, the other by a dead Seer. Ryder shook that memory off and acknowledged the glass Lucian held in front of his face. They settled into the leather chairs opposite each other and sat in silence, sipping a rather expensive whiskey, for several moments.

"It has been a long time, friend." Lucian's tone turned very serious. His normal, sarcastic demeanor turned cold. If Ryder did not know the man better he would be concerned.

"About thirty years if memory serves, not by my choice. You are my true friend in this Lucian, I hope you believe that." Ryder looked into his glass, the clarity of the moment matched with the clarity of his memory of their last good-bye weighed on him more than he'd like.

"I understand, Ryder. I am yours as well. I come here as your friend, but I must also impart the will of the council. They have, shall we say, concerns regarding your loyalty to the Immortals." Lucian took a long drink from the glass. The twinkle returned to his eye, the self-assured sarcasm, "I told them to fuck themselves Ry. I am here as your friend to warn you that they are watching and offer my aide in this war you have created for yourself. And, I apologize for our last farewell, it was not my finest moment, brother."

Lucian downed the rest of the whiskey and grinned, his teeth flashing white and steeled face breaking under the humor he somehow found in his grim speech. It was contagious. Ryder laughed for the first time in ages, the first time since he'd left Her. He pushed that memory aside as well. She was not the one but she perished anyway and his true feeling over Her death would not aide his cause this evening. Ryder took a long gulp from his glass and set it on the table beside him. Now seemed as good a time as any, he supposed.

"The prophecy is wrong." Ryder held Lucian's gaze as he processed the statement. Sure enough, shock, then puzzlement, finally confusion. His mouth opened and closed a few times as if the thoughts would not formulate quite right on his tongue. Finally, he emptied the glass, walked to the liquor cabinet and refilled it before turning to face Ryder again.

"Brother, that is a pretty inflammatory statement. Do not tell me the council was correct to question your loyalties."

"Hear me out, Lucian." Ryder opened the small hidden cabinet beneath his table and withdrew the notebook he'd been working from. "We only have a part of the prophecy in our archives. I spent time with Trin Sullivan. Her ancestor is the mystic who gave the original prophecy and she kept records. I saw the journal. I swear to you Lucian, there is more to it than we thought."

"Shit." Lucian downed his drink, set the glass loudly on the counter and grinned at Ryder. "Do you have the proof?"

"Not exactly, but I know where the original journal is kept." Ryder knew exactly where Trin kept it, and that it would have been delivered to the girl, her niece, by now.

Lucian shook his head, "Brother, what on earth have you gotten yourself into?"

Storm

Standing at the long, glass-topped bar of Starlight, scrunched between Dan and Shane, Storm felt safe. Her vision from earlier tucked away in the recesses of her mind, she allowed the thrumming classic rock of the club to ripple through her. Christmas lights twinkled above, lining the ceiling, and below her beneath the plexiglass floor. The same lights trimmed the bar and liquor shelves. Starlight was the hip, new club according to her friends. They were clearly channeling some sort of big hair band vibes this evening forcing Storm to stifle sarcastic comments all evening. She was bored. Other than the music, she found nothing appealing about Starlight. Her foot refused to stop keeping beat to the medley of Jimi Hendrix, The Doors, Boston, and Lynyrd Skynyrd. Okay, so the music struck a chord and the boys had agreed to unload her entire truck and help her unpack if only Storm would accompany them for the night. They even offered to buy her drinks. Her guilt over sending them away coupled with the scrumptious pizza they'd delivered, well, she gave in right quick.

The worst part of the experience had to be the get up they'd produced for her. With all of her clothes packed away in the truck she couldn't very well argue. Storm dolled herself up - as in completely out of her element. In fact, she looked like a pin-up. Every time Storm caught a glimpse of herself in the enormous floor to ceiling mirrors behind the bar she cringed. It was uncomfortable only for the fact that men were staring at her and the only thing that staved their awkward advances remained her two beautiful companions. Storm felt painfully aware that she was not the typical fare for Starlight; the snug-fitting pencil skirt and off the shoulder top stood out in the crowd of spandex and sequins. Perhaps she'd gone a touch too far with the 20s style coif. She cursed herself for listening to Dan and Shane.

"Stop fidgeting, Storm. You look amazing." Shane's whisper tickled her ear and the compliment made her even more uncomfortable. Retreating behind the glass in her hand, Storm eyed her co-dates. She didn't get it. They could have anybody in the bar; she'd seen the droves of women watching the pair hungrily and shooting her death looks. Still, they flanked Storm, in the middle of the long bar, and fed her drinks and popcorn in attempts to force fun down her throat. Storm mentally checked herself; she had to give them more credit. Dan and Shane were not the average body-building, superficial thugs and she accepted that nobody could call her hideous.

Sighing, Storm placed the empty glass on the bar and gestured for another from the cute bartender, half clad in stylishly tattered jeans slung low on his hips, low enough to let the world know he sported nothing underneath them. Baron, that was the name he'd given her. Right. Storm could only think of Snoopy and the Red Baron when she looked at him now. That's what usually happened. Something would turn her off so she could no longer look at a man with even remote sexual interest. Dan and Shane were the same. Though she still wished she would feel something more toward them, it just didn't happen. Storm would always see them as the Hardy Boys, much worse since they'd become police officers. She didn't even really know where the correlation had come from. It just happened one day when they were at a football game, sophomore year perhaps? She couldn't be certain. Regardless, to Storm, Dan and Shane were beautiful to look at but it ended there. Sad but true. She sighed again as the Red Baron placed a drink in front of her and attempted to undress her with his eyes for the tenth time that night.

Turning back to watch the crowd milling about the dance floor in odd rhythms, Storm felt a ripple down her spine and nearly dropped her glass. Dan's arm found its way around her waist in an instant and concern flooded his face.

"I am fine, just turned too fast. Really. I probably just need to slow down on the drinks a bit." Turning her most reassuring smile to Dan, Storm slipped out of his embrace and leaned against the bar. His face fell and she knew it. They'd been friends for years, since childhood, and when she'd returned, Storm looked the guys up first. Well, she'd only looked the guys up. Storm found out that they'd kept the postcards she sent them from her various locations but knew her well enough to leave it alone. It was comforting to know they'd kept her secret – until Trin's death. She felt grateful they'd outted her for that. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Something was coming. Something she did not want to deal with. Dammit. How could she get the Hardy Boys to leave now?

"On second thought, I am not feeling too hot. Maybe you boys could get me home?" Storm feigned balance problems and put her arm around Dan's waist, leaning into his warmth. That did the trick; she felt his breath catch for a moment and then his arm around her in return. They followed Shane as he weaved his way through people and random tables toward the door. Storm didn't see who Shane nearly collided with but she heard the apologies. Her body reacted to the stranger's voice, a blend of silk and iron, coaxing and offending at the same time. She went rigid, that voice seemed familiar somehow.

Before she knew what happened, Storm found herself seated in the back of her Beetle and speeding toward Willow Wood. She felt lightheaded and realized the she had actually consumed more alcohol than she should have. One of the guys carried her in and laid her in bed. Storm fell asleep to their hushed argument, making out a few words in her drunken haze, something about immortals and almost blowing it. Then her focus became convincing herself not to wretch. She failed miserably and stumbled drunkenly to the bathroom.

Ryder

That smell. The wisp of hair from between the arms of the two seraphs. Ryder forced himself to keep moving, he didn't want a confrontation here. The niece, HER niece. This niece had some power, how did the watcher not recognize her as a Seer? How could they not know? Walking within a foot of her it became clear. And his body reacted to her surprisingly. Beads of sweat formed at his brow as Ryder pushed through the crowd to the bar. Even after she left the building, the remnants of her smell affected him. A Sullivan Seer still lived. A powerful mystic, far more than Trin had ever been. Did she know her power?

Ryder ordered two whiskeys and two beers, the bartender nodded in recognition. He'd worked at Noveau, the name of the club before it became Starlight. Ryder owned the club then as well, he'd owned it in one shape or other for some twenty years. He refurbished it every year or so to keep up with the trends, and occasionally set them. Classic rock seemed to be making a comeback as the children of the 80s reached their 30s and longed for reminders of their childhood. Judging by the crowd, more than few 30-somethings were relishing the music and ambiance of Ryder's most recent pet project. He noted at least two bachelorette parties and recognized a few members of the city's pro football team in the VIP corner. They were seated at the booth next to his. A pair of scantily dressed blondes with big hair and other large assets danced on the table back to back putting on a titillating show.

Baron the bartender, formerly Clyde, and before that Arrow, smiled at him. Ryder's payroll had the man listed as Frederick Whiteman for tax purposes but Ryder allowed his staff to utilize any pseudonym they chose fully understanding that having a persona could bring in more tips. The kid intrigued Ryder, a real chameleon, and a valuable asset. At his interview, Frederick had done a routine from Cocktails - that 80s flick with Tom Cruise – and Ryder had been so amused he hired him on the spot. As it turned out, Frederick was the best bartender in town, a lifer who readily changed his look in sync with the club, Goth, techno, jazz, you name it. Tonight he stood behind the bar shaggy-haired, shirtless, and barefoot with women throwing themselves at him. Ryder wondered how long that would last now that he and Lucian had arrived; it tended to happen that way, part of the Immortal package. If Ryder could change it for somebody, he'd change it for Frederick. Honestly, the kid was a good guy, a hard worker, with a good soul but no luck with the ladies, not that he would likely find his diamond in the rough at a club.

"We will not stay long, er, Baron. Just up for a drink and then moving on."

"Thanks, Boss, you know the ladies stop tipping when you stroll in. I saw a peach here a few minutes ago; you'd have liked her Boss – flame red hair, a rockin' bod, and dressed like a pin-up. Something about her made me think of you." Frederick/Baron, ran his fingers through his hair and gave a devilish grin, "Still on for a meeting tomorrow mornin' or should I plan on it in the afternoon?"

"Morning, eleven sharp." Ryder placed a fifty on the counter and slid it over to his employee. "May this be the tip of the iceberg for you this evening."

Frederick/Baron nodded back and pocketed the bill. Ryder downed the whiskey and snatched the beer off the counter. Lucian followed suit in silence. The Immortals walked across the dance floor to the corner booth and settled in. The football blondes stopped dancing for a moment and looked to leave their players but Ryder made a show of ignoring them. Instead, he sipped on his beer and stared out across the sea of faces, glistening with sweat, their reek filled his nose. Sex hung in the air. Lucian broke the silence.

"Nice place. Good beer, great whiskey, lots of sweet ass for the taking."

"It is a good source of revenue, and a great place to entertain when I choose." Ryder took another swig from the bottle, an import, a good one too. Thick, full-bodied, perfect for his mood.

"I find it amusing. What'd your barkeep say about the girl? You still chasing redheads? I thought you were done playing with fire?" Lucian raised an eyebrow meaningfully.

"I am. They saw me here with Trin. End of story."

"For your sake, I truly hope so. We have company, brother. And not the pleasant kind." Lucian nodded toward the door. He spoke the truth.

"Did you know they were coming? Lucian, tell me you did not know. Tell me you did not set me up for an inquiry." Ryder looked at his friend, square in the eye, unblinking, wanting to believe he knew the man better. Lucian merely shrugged his shoulders and took another swig of beer.

"If you are really asking me that question then I will take my leave." Lucian moved to exit the booth but Ryder laid a hand on his arm and passed a meaningful thought.

"Apologies, old friend. I am paranoid. You know how it is when your feet are to the flames. I wonder why they are here; I sent my account on the Sullivan Seers to Roane already." Ryder felt uneasy, not fully convinced that Lucian's arrival had been coincidence but hopeful that he'd arrived to be of assistance. "They do not look pleased do they?"

"No, brother, no they do not. Perhaps we should take this back to your residence and leave your business untainted?" Lucian nodded toward the door, tension rolling off his frame in response to Ryder's own. As always, Lucian's mere presence remained intimidating even among their kind.

"I do not wish to destroy my home, let us start with the alley out back." Ryder stood, leaving his beer beside Lucian's upon the table. Shoulder to shoulder the pair pushed across the dance floor to the new arrivals. Wordlessly Ryder ushered the guests back through the employee exit and into the back lot. Once the heavy steel door had closed behind them, Ryder turned and sized up his guests, nodding to each in turn – "Roane, Kell, Pollux, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"We have come to ensure the Sullivan Seers are truly extinct. It appears a new Sullivan resides at Willow Wood and that things were handled rather sloppily." Roane's baritone flowed so steadily it sounded eerie. The man never yelled. He never utilized inflection at all actually. Most people felt uncomfortable around Roane and the man used it to his advantage, even Kell and Pollux shifted awkwardly on either side of him. Ryder never understood it really. Sure, he stood eye to eye with Lucian and was nearly as broad, but he always reminded Ryder of Mr. Clean, minus the smile. Roane never smiled – ever. He always wore the same basic black cotton tees that stretched over his well-defined musculature. But beyond that oddly disconcerting voice-thing, Roane looked like just another man. Of course, it apparently irked Roane that he failed to intimidate Ryder. He did not like Lucian much either. Ryder got the impression that one of Roane's many personal missions involved putting an end to them both.

Kell and Pollux were another matter; Ryder had always been friendly with the pair. True brothers, Kell and Pollux had been born to a Scottish lord and a milking wench, or so they claimed. They were the youngest Immortals known to the brethren. They still wore their long auburn hair in plaits and as often as possible donned their family kilts. Ryder himself had found them in the Scottish foothills during one of the many Scotch uprisings. He'd been the one to teach them the rules, to train them in the ways of the Immortal life. Ryder found it quite odd that Roane had selected Kell and Pollux for this meeting, whatever his intention may be. He grinned broadly at the pair, both sporting stylish kilts and plain white tees with loosely laced biker boots. As usual, their outfits were coordinated nicely. Two pair of emerald green eyes twinkled back, admiration apparent.

"What happened to basic pleasantries? Right in to business these days, Roane? That's never been our way, brother." Lucian moved to embrace Kell and Pollux, held his hand out to Roane who looked at it blankly for a moment before shaking it.

Leave it to Lucian to not only break the tension but also give Ryder a moment to strategize. Roane's steely gray eyes bored into him as he exchanged pleasantries with the brothers. Ryder took a step back and offered his hand to Roane. He was met with the same blank stare and a stiff handshake.

"In my brief I detailed the entire situation Roane. I would have thought that sufficient for the Council." Ryder held Roane's gaze, neither one betraying their thoughts. The silent standoff continued for several minutes, each trying to glean something from the other.

"We frown on the part where you left a Sullivan alive and lost one of our familiars. The Council has sent me to review the situation in person and to offer assistance in the matter of the familiar." Roane looked for a moment as though he tasted something sour. Ryder knew well the man's distaste for familiars. He disagreed vehemently with the Council's decision to continue the practice of employing familiars; insistent that nobody outside the brethren should have knowledge of their existence. Roane preferred to reside in a monastery with the monks who maintained and protected the Immortal doctrines. He even disliked the monks, refused to dine or socialize with them at all. Ryder wondered at what divine plan would offer immortality to such a man.

"It was unfortunate to lose a familiar in the effort, but as is the way with mortals, he fell in love with the wrong woman. Trin Sullivan was not without her charms." Roane forced his face to remain smooth, "as for the Sullivan girl, she shows no sign of having the Sight. Trin put her out of the family home several years ago and the child never learned their ways or their history. Still, I have eyes on her just in case. If she shows signs of the Sight then I will put her down as well."

"Excellent. Nicely done Ry. Kell, Pollux, care to join me inside for another drink? There were some lovely females just ravenous for your attention." Lucian wagged his eyebrows at the brothers and pulled the steel door open. "Ry, Roane, shall we take this party inside and enjoy this glorious evening?"

The brothers shrugged, Roane grimaced, and Ryder felt himself stifling a laugh. He felt gratitude for Lucian's presence. Ryder nodded in agreement and followed Lucian back into the club, the brothers on his heels and Roane bringing up the rear.

In their brief absence, the club had become even more packed. For a brief moment Ryder considered occupancy codes but let that thought go and forced himself into the situation at hand. He felt Roane watching every move, something was still wrong. He could not put his finger on it, but something about Roane's visit seemed off. Ryder motioned to Baron for five drinks and herded his visitors back to the corner booth. The youngsters were eyeballing the crowd, their eyes clearly betraying their intentions. The football team took their blondes and slipped out the VIP exit, clearly tired of corralling the ladies and knowing better than to take on the five Immortals. At least a dozen more scantily clad women acknowledged Ryder's table. Tonight should definitely be interesting.

Baron approached with five microbrews, Ryder's own creation – a cocoa porter he'd been perfecting for a few decades. Baron had managed to make it popular in recent months, urging it upon the clientele as often as possible. Kell nodded appreciatively and returned to eyeing the crowd. A petite woman with a fuchsia punk cut and matching spandex dress approached their table. Her makeup appeared almost clown-like and what little cleavage she possessed had been squeezed upward. Giggling like a child, she asked the brothers what they wore under their kilts. Pollux took a deep swig from his beer and slid out of the booth, "Well, lass, if ye' play yer cards right I may let ye look for yerself." The giggling only multiplied from there as he swept her back onto the dance floor with her legs about his waist.

"Well, that's my cue to pick a lass of my own. Thanks for the beer, Ryder. How about lunch tomorrow?" Kell looked to him in earnest and Ryder nodded in acceptance. Kell disappeared into the crowd in moments.

"And then there were three." Lucian studied his beer bottle. "I think this recipe is perfect, brother. Just the right balance, how long did it take?"

Nicely done, Lucian. I owe you one. "About three decades or so. I am pleased you like it."

"What do you think, Roane?" Lucian did not even look to Roane as he addressed the third, silent member of their remaining party.

Roane tore his gaze from Ryder's face and looked to Lucian, clearly surprised by his inclusion in the conversation. He masked his reaction quickly and responded stiffly, "It is not unpleasant. I appreciate the hint of cocoa."

Thankfully, Lucian managed to control the conversation for the next hour and a half, small talk, sports, past battles they'd fought in, the usual. Ryder thought about the redhead, she had to be Trin's niece. Nobody but the Sullivans had hair that color. There was more to it of course, but hard to decipher since he could not manage a good read on the girl. She knew him somehow, he felt the recognition pass over her. How had the watchers been wrong? He would have to do some reconnaissance himself. If he could just get rid of Roane. Lucian caught his eye and broke the train of thought with a meaningful glance. Roane was studying him as well, curiosity flickered across his face.

"You alright, brother?"

"Yes, I am just growing tired. And I was trying to recall what meetings I have tomorrow."

"Cancel them all. I am certain you have some eager assistant who can handle it all in your stead. You agreed to lunch with the boys and I am in town. Let's party late and sleep late and then we can dine at that fabulous bistro you were telling me about on the way here."

"You are incorrigible, Lucian. Truly. We are not all nomads and I have businesses to run." Ryder noticed Roane's sudden disinterest in the conversation and relaxed his grip on the near empty beer bottle. He had not realized the amount of tension in his body until that moment.

"Your businesses are not going anywhere. You are not going under if you miss one appointment. Come on, brother, five Immortals in one town, let's paint it black."

"I believe the saying is 'paint it red.' I will call to my assistant and have her handle it. You are as bad an influence as ever."

"Indeed I am, and you need to have more fun my somber friend."

Fun indeed. The rest of the evening passed as a blur, but Roane remained with them and quite silent for the interim. Ryder felt unsettled for the first time since he'd met Roane and grateful to part ways at the club's front door. Fortunately, Roane had secured a suite at an area motel. It would not do for that man to be roaming the manor. Ryder had no Sight but even he could sense a storm brewing.

Storm

The guys stayed over. It would have been better if they'd slept in one of the spare bedrooms instead of on either side of her, but, since they didn't try anything she let it go. Storm woke to the smell of pancakes and bacon. She opened her eyes to Shane's sleeping form, the pillow damp from his drool. Of course Dan would be cooking breakfast, his claim to fame with the ladies as he told it. Storm slipped backward out of bed and pulled on the lounge clothes from the day before. She probably should have been shocked that the guys had stripped her down to bra and panties but her stomach rumbled in response to the scent of bacon so the thought evaporated quickly.

In the kitchen, Dan had laid out plates and silverware, the same ones she'd used as a child. Pancakes were stacked on a serving plate in the middle of the breakfast bar and he was dumping slices of bacon onto another plate.

"Coffee is just about ready. There are also some berries draining in the sink, I got a medley for you. Is Shane still sleeping?"

"Yes, drool and all. He will have to wash that pillowcase. I am not okay with boy smell where I sleep." Storm grabbed a slice of bacon simultaneously spearing a pancake as she slid onto the nearest stool. "This is delightful Dan, really. Thank you."

"My pleasure. You've had a rough go of things lately. This is what friends do, darlin' and I am your friend." Dan poured a cup of coffee, added some creamer and set it next to her. "Is there anything else I can do? When Shaner gets up we can unload but is there anything you want us to take away while we have the truck? I mean, are you going to keep all this?"

"I don't know Dan. I think I am going to have to just go one room at a time. Maybe I'll get one of those Pod things and just shift stuff in there as I decide to get rid of it. I don't know. This hasn't really settled in yet, I guess. I really appreciate everything you two have done. I owe you."

"No, you don't. We both love you, always have. We are here for you, anything you need, just ask." Dan reached over and touched her hand, his gaze intense. Storm wanted so badly to feel something when she looked at him, to return the affection he clearly felt for her. It just wasn't there. She couldn't conjure it. She'd tried.

"Alright! Bacon and pancakes! Good call, bro!" Shane emerged in boxer briefs, his hair a tousled mess. Storm withdrew her hand from under Dan's and smiled broadly.

"I was just thanking Dan for all you two have done for me. I owe you both."

"And I was just telling her that she doesn't owe us anything."

"Damn straight, Storm! We do this out of love!" Shane leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. "Face it, kid, you are stuck with us for the long haul!"

Storm smiled, this is how her life should be. Laughter and friends over breakfast after a night on the town, easy like a Sunday morning, just like the Commodores said. Was it the Commodores? It felt good to relax. They were good for her. Breakfast felt easy, they recanted old times, the many antics of their childhood and adolescence. When they were full the trio set to cleaning up and ended up in a dish soap fight which in turn ended in a sticky, wet mess on the kitchen floor. Storm extracted herself from the small scrum, steadying herself at the breakfast bar, her hair dripping with soapy water.

"Okay, okay! You two start unloading the truck; everything is labeled so it should be easy. I am going to clean up this mess. Then we will get cleaned up and go out to eat, my treat!"

"Yes, ma'am, we are on it." Dan bowed comically and slipped on his way out. Shane made to follow him and then remembered his lack of clothing.

Storm set to wiping up the mess, those boys sure could put away some food. Normalcy, she stopped to relish the thought for a moment and then slid the last dish in the dishwasher. Everything went white, Storm fell to her knees. Shit, not now. Then pain, that wretched, searing pain. Dammit.

When she woke, Storm found herself propped against Shane, his arms around her, still on the floor. "I think it is time we had a talk, Storm. A real talk. You can't hide this anymore, and you shouldn't have to. Not from us. Why don't we stay in tonight?"

Too drained to register the full meaning of his words, Storm simply nodded against his chest. She allowed him to stand. Shane lifted her easily, as if she were weightless, and carried her upstairs.

"I am going to help Dan unload the rest of your stuff and by then you should be rejuvenated so we can have that talk." Shane pulled the quilt over her and kissed her forehead lightly. "Oh, and don't try slipping out. We will find you. No more avoiding this, babe."

Storm drifted off, her dreams a strange kaleidoscope of faces and colors. Trin kept telling her to listen, to see, and to feel. She awoke with Trin's perfume in her nose. She'd been there. Somehow Trin had been there. Damn. Creepy. The thought passed quickly as she was interrupted by a sexy tenor.

"Afternoon, sunshine. How about you hop out of bed, shower up, and meet us in the study in ten?" Dan looked down at her, his expression unreadable but not unpleasant. The sunlight from the window cast a long shadow across the room. For a second she swore there were wings protruding from the shadow's back. She opened her mouth to speak but thought better of it, closed her mouth, and nodded her agreement instead. Storm rubbed at her eyes, still feeling heavy from the sleep.

"Shower, dress, study in ten minutes. Will do, boss. But, what is this all about? I am not used to you two being so serious."

"Quit stalling and clean up." Dan already smelled clean, his hair still damp and clean clothes had replaced the dish soap outfit. Man did he smell good, sweet and clean and somehow a little spicy. "Now, Storm." If not for his smile, Storm may have been a bit intimidated.

"Alright, alright, I am up and moving!" To illustrate her point, Storm sat up and threw off her cover in one fluid motion. "Ten minutes."

True to her word, ten minutes later Storm stood outside the cherry-wood six-paneled doors that led to the family study. Pushing the doors inward, Storm noticed immediately that the study was completely unchanged, and still completely unlike any study she'd ever seen. As a child, she'd spent hours reading on the patched up, antique sofa. Every book that filled the floor to ceiling, handcrafted cherry wood shelves an original print. The massive shelves spanned three full walls, the fourth a wall of glass with doors that opened to a patio overlooking the orchard. Storm spun around for a moment, taking in the thousands of glorious books in every genre imaginable. She had read them all by her seventeenth birthday, even the family histories that appeared to be locked in the same glass paneled cabinet that had housed them during her childhood. A fire danced in the cobbles-stoned hearth and the heavy cherry wood mantle still held all of the familiar pictures of Storm at various stages of life. She walked over and ran her fingertips along the mantle, stopping at a picture of that had been taken in the orchard just before she'd left. The last picture Aunt Trin had taken of her. She remembered the day. A throat cleared behind her, pausing the walk down memory lane. Storm turned to face the inevitable.

Dan sat at the enormous cherry wood desk. Her ancestors clearly had a thing for cherry wood. Sheesh. At least Aunt Trin and her mother had added some personality by way of various stained glass lamps including a small butterfly one on the desk. Shane lounged in her father's camel-colored wingback chair. It too had seen better days but he looked comfortable enough. The closeness of the space suddenly felt suffocating. She crossed to the wall of windows and began pulling back the heavy, burgundy velvet draperies.

"Storm, don't open them yet." Dan's voice broke the silence. It wasn't an order but left no room for her to deny him. Storm felt their eyes were on her even before she looked at them, their gorgeous faces more serious than she'd ever seen them. This would not be something she wanted to know.

"Babe, will you please sit down? We really need to show you something, it would be best with the drapes closed." Now Shane chimed in. They were ganging up on her. Cheaters.

Storm moved woodenly to the sofa. She sat and found a stray thread to pick at, better than to meet their eyes. Easier. Less uncomfortable.

"Storm." Shane knelt in front of her. "Babe, it is just us. We have answers for you. A lot of them, but you need to face us."

Sighing, Storm slowly lifted her eyes and found Shane's. They were different. He looked different. Dan knelt beside his brother. They each took one of her hands and smiled, their teeth glowed, was that the right word, sudden word-finding issues were a sign of stroke, right? Where did that thought come from? The room seemed brighter too. A silvery light seemed to radiate from the guys. And then, there they were, the wings flapping softly. Dan and Shane. Shane and Dan. Dammit. How could she not have seen it before. Some Seer she turned out to be. Aunt Trin would be ashamed. Aunt Trin. Double Damn. She had known. Aunt Trin knew. That's why they were allowed to sleep over. That's why she pushed their relationship. Protection. They were her protection. And they knew about her all along. Storm connected the dots quickly, that meant, no. Nope. Uh-uh. No way. She didn't even believe in it.

"Yes. Storm. Yes. You know it in your heart. It is time to accept who you are." A voice echoed around her, velvety smooth and soothing like a cool breeze and then it was gone, a figment of her imagination. Storm shook her head, her mouth silently opening and closing for a minute until she found words again, "No. I will not. I am not."

"If you keep running they will only grow more painful until they blind you. Babe, you don't want that. You knew when you came back. That's why you came back."

The wings were gone. Just Dan and Shane kneeling before her smiling their silly boyish smiles. Storm looked at them, shock rolling through her. She finally felt something toward them, withdrawing her hands from their grasps, Storm slapped them simultaneously across their gorgeous faces.

Ryder

Ryder's dreams had been vivid, more than unusual for him. All of them were of Trin Sullivan, or her niece; their faces interchanged several times over the restless night. Flame red hair spread across his black satin sheets, creamy skin flushed from their activities. Ryder's arousal verged on painful and he wished that Rosalee or Angeline were around. No, he actually did not. It seemed unlikely that any female would be capable of fulfilling the gaping hole left by Trin – until he glimpsed her niece.

He sensed her before the familiar red hair caught his eye. Something about her felt different, she had a good deal of magic in her and that meant she probably had the Sight. Dammit. He needed to check her out, his sources had been wrong. How could she have evaded them? Trin had lied to him. Why? How? And worst of all, Storm had the book. Ryder knew she moved into the estate already. Had she discovered the room yet?

Too many questions. This girl. One girl. The last of her line. What if she could save him? For a fleeting moment Ryder wondered at the possibility of having children of his own, aging, having an actual endgame. Excitement fluttered in the pit of his stomach, the possibility of another Sullivan Seer filled him with new hope. This would have to be handled carefully, even more so with Roane in town. He really had no choice, he needed Lucian's help and he needed the book. Ryder sat up and ran his hands through his hair. This would get complicated. First things first though - a cold shower.

The shower did wonders, but the dreams nagged at Ryder's conscience, how did he know the girl's face? He shrugged it off, probably just imagined it in from the photographs at Willow Wood, some trick of his subconscious. Hell, Ryder did not even remember her name, something odd, Spring or Autumn, Rain maybe? He would find out soon enough. Ryder threw on a long-sleeved, black thermal shirt and his favorite Express jeans minus the belt. He would need all of his, er, assets today.

Rosalee and Lucian were laughing in the kitchen when he walked in. The scent of coffee hung in the air, overpowering even Rosalee's gardenia perfume, not an easy task. Lucian's face lit up when Ryder entered though the effects of the prior evening remained evident in the dark circles beneath his eyes.

"I see you borrowed some clothes. By all means, help yourself."

"Well, brother, you were clearly too indisposed to be bothered with such a mundane question. I peeked in your room and you were snoring like a hibernating bear." Lucian raised an eyebrow, "are we going somewhere this early?"

"If you would accompany me, I would be most appreciative. Your particular skills could be useful where I am going. Get dressed and I will explain on the way." Ryder nodded toward Rosalee, "Sorry to deprive you of Lucian's company Rose, I think he will be around for a while though. Could you have some extra clothes set up in the guest suite for him?"

"Of course, Boss. Thanks for the chat, Lucian, I look forward to another very soon." She winked and flipped her hair seductively before sashaying out of the kitchen. Lucian had the decency to wait until she was well out of earshot before letting out a long, low whistle.

"That woman is smokin', brother. Have you partaken of her fruits at all?" When Ryder shook his head disbelief colored Lucian's face, "How is that possible? If you would have waited ten more minutes you'd have found her bent over the counter and well in the throes of passion with yours truly. She's got something."

"Yes, she does, she has eight somethings in fact. You are not the paternal type, Lucian. I would strongly suggest you avoid bending that one over my counter – for more reasons than one. Now stop stalling and get ready. We have an errand to run before we meet the others and it will be questioned if we are not timely."

"Has anybody told you that you are awfully cranky in the morning? Maybe you just need to get laid, brother. How long has it been?"

Ryder cast Lucian a warning look and pointed in the direction of his room, "Dress now, talk later."

Lucian grabbed an apple from the bowl on the butcher's block island and sauntered out the door. Ryder ignored the grumbling that disappeared with his friend. He helped himself to a mug of Columbian and stared out the wall of windows to the woods at the side of his property. The sun's rays broke through random thin spots in the trees. The leaves seemed to dance in the light breeze. He longed to run the length of the wood, feeling the branches cutting his arms and cheeks, the smell of dampness and sap surrounding him. Trin had run with him once, her laughter carried through the trees and enveloped him. She'd found it exhilarating. They stopped in a clearing and mated like true creatures of the forest. Trin told him that night. Confessed her truth reluctantly. Ryder had replayed the conversation a hundred times, relived the crushing sensation of her words. He might have saved her if she'd been the one. If she had the power she would be alive to run the forest with him, her flaming hair trailing behind as he gave chase.

"Brother, where are you? I thought we had a job to do but you seem more than a little dazed. Coffee is supposed to jump start your day, not send you into a stupor." Lucian stood a few feet away, suspicion and curiosity warring on his face. "I think it is time you filled me in. Something is obviously up and if you want my help I need the whole story."

"Lucian, I need to see about a girl."

"Now you are speaking my language. Let's go pick up a couple of ladies and have a day with them."

"No, I have to go see about a specific girl. Trin Sullivan's niece was in the club last night. I felt something in her. I think there is another Sullivan Seer. And she has the book we need."

Lucian leaned against the counter and grabbed another apple. He bit into it and wiped the excess juice from his face before speaking. "Brother, you better figure this out fast. If Roane gets wind of it he will not wait to hear your theories, he will take her out."

Ryder frowned. He'd thought of that too. Still, Ryder had studied the Sullivans for years and it seemed highly doubtful that Roane even knew about the book. "He will not know. She left before they arrived - two seraphs took her out as we entered." Ryder looked Lucian in the eye and suddenly understood why the others never realized the girl had the Sight. He backpedaled and nearly dropped the coffee cup. "Of course, the seraphs. Trin said that her niece had two close friends, males who would lay down their lives for her. The seraphs not only protected her physically, they shielded her spirit. We will have no idea what power she has unless we separate her from the seraphs which I suspect will be challenging."

"Seraphs? Hell, Ry, what have you gotten mixed up in here? This girl has to be special if she has two seraphs as protectors. This is going to be fun. I haven't taken on a seraph in ages!" Lucian's eyes flared with excitement and Ryder caught a glance of the flame within his friend.

"Lucian, we cannot harm the seraphs, if they protect the girl and she is what I believe her to be, then she needs them. You cannot let the flame out today." Ryder felt like a parent scolding a naught child. Lucian mocked him with a faux pout before grudgingly agreeing to keep his affinity in check. "Besides, I am merely slipping in to read her spirit and find out where she put the book, if she even knows about it. I need the proof if she truly is the Emerald."

"Who would have guessed? After all this time you may have stumbled on the Emerald Seer. Funny that you extinguished her whole line first." Lucian took the last bite of his apple. Ryder opened the oak cabinet door that hid his garbage can and Lucian chucked the core in with a graceful fade-away. He mimicked the sound of a crowd cheering and bowed comically. Ryder chuckled, he missed Lucian and it felt good to share his burden.

"Alright, if you will behave yourself, you can drive. Pick a car, any car."

Lucian looked like a kid in a candy store, a wide, mischievous grin upon his face. After a few moments of indecision he settled on a vintage Corvette, cherry red with a black leather interior and several customizations. Lucian drove fast, very fast. They arrived at the gates of Willow Wood much sooner than Ryder was prepared to. Their plan remained simple, Lucian just need to distract the seraphs long enough for Ryder to get a read on the girl and then it would pretty much be a 'run like hell' situation. There would not be enough time for a true fight if they wanted to be on time for lunch. Ryder clarified with Lucian more than once and ascertained his inner flame remained in check.

They parked the car up the road and scaled the wall taking two different angles to the main house. Lucian knocked first, rang the doorbell, waited, then knocked again. Ryder felt them before he saw them. The door opened and a voice like tinkling bells in his ears greeted Lucian with indifference.

"Greetings, Immortal. To what do we owe this pleasure?" The voice's owner stepped out onto the drive, his face only half obstructed by the potted shrub beside the entry – definitely one of the seraphs from the previous evening. The other one had not emerged but Ryder could sense him just inside the door. Ryder stretched his sense for the girl, must be in the study. Memories of Trin sprawled on the enormous desk, her creamy skin a stark contrast to the rich wood grain – no, not a good time to go there.

Certain Lucian had the seraphs occupied, Ryder snuck around the side of the manor. He opened a window and climbed into the formal dining room beside the study. Touching the adjoining wall, Ryder could feel the girl easily. She projected loudly. Anger, frustration, a touch of sorrow, perhaps, but mostly confusion. Ryder slipped into the hallway and peered through the open door of the study. She sat on the old sofa, her chin jutted out, staring at nothing in particular. Her name, what was her name? It finally came to him, Storm, the niece who'd been cast out. Ryder found that unlikely. This girl had the Sight, and something more.

Storm

She had no idea who would be at the door. A religious fanatic? Somebody who didn't know Aunt Trin was dead? A girl scout? Storm didn't think any option more likely than the other. Still, she relished the distraction from the startling news, and influx of emotion she'd just encounter. Storm did not like the loss of control that came with emotions. Sure she'd been considered odd her entire life but there had been a certain convenience to feeling nothing. Storm approached every situation, even incredibly volatile ones, with cool indifference. She couldn't remember overwhelming heartbreak or sorrow, nothing more than a pang when her own mother passed. But she'd never known love either. That pesky voice in her head always reminded her of the shortcomings. Now, emotions were awakening inside her in the most unsettling way. She felt off balance and awkward with no concept of how to control the emotions or the influx of power that accompanied them. Storm actually struck the guys. Dan and Shane, her oldest friends in the world. But they had lied, she reasoned, they knew about her all along. She could have used their support, could have used their aid to handle her visions correctly. Hell, as seraphs they could have helped in a million ways. They lied about themselves.

Anger. What a strange sensation. She should have felt anger when her mother took her own life. Or when her father left. Or when Aunt Trin was murdered. But no, not Storm, the unfeeling wonder. All of a sudden she could feel. And now, well, now she felt like – somebody was watching her. Storm turned slowly toward the study's entrance. She gasped and put a hand over her mouth, in a characteristic Trin action. Him, bloody hell, He stood there just inside the doors with the most scrutinizing look upon his face. Such a gorgeous face, and somehow familiar. He looked surprised for a brief moment and then nothing, stoic – flat affect her psych books would say – but beautiful. Utterly and completely beautiful.

"Why are you here?" Her voice sounded shakier than she'd intended. He continued to stare, unmoving, gorgeous. A different emotion started to develop in the pit of her stomach. Storm asked again, exuding more confidence with her second attempt. Still nothing from her stranger.

Finally, he spoke, "Hello, Storm." Yes, that voice. Velvet and steel all at once. His jeans were stylish but needed a belt, they were slung low on his hips and the black thermal shirt didn't quite reach the waistband so she saw enough to know he wore nothing beneath those designer jeans. Wow, yes, the unusual feeling in the pit of her stomach certainly reacted to that knowledge. He sauntered over, exuding a unique combination of confidence and purpose. Storm could not move. He stood before her, eyes piercing hers in the most relaxing way. She felt him trying to probe her head, wait – No. Get out of my head. Storm pressed hard against him, reinforcing her mental walls. He recoiled quickly and frowned at her.

"Who are you? I had a vision of you." Oops. Good job Storm. That one just slipped out. Dammit.

"I am Ryder Cohen. Your Aunt Trin and I were – acquaintances. I came to pay my condolences." He shifted uncomfortably and continued to stare at her. Still, Storm could not get a read on him. His nearness affected her. She reached out and touched his arm, a jolt shot through her. His eyes flared.

"I have to leave. Your friends are returning. I would advise against mentioning me to them. Jealousy would not be your only issue." He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. They were so warm. The electricity that passed between them as undeniable as her instant attraction to him. And then he left.

Storm sat back on the sofa. Her mind reeled. So much information in such a short time and now the questions warred for top priority. Dammit. What had she gotten into?

"Still angry with us, babe?" Shane stepped cautiously into the study, Dan at his heels. Storm turned to face them, they looked different now. Hard to explain and unfair, sure, but as her feelings unfurled, Storm couldn't seem to convince herself of anything other than pure emotion. She still sort of saw the glow around them.

"Who was at the door?" Storm worked hard to keep her voice even, to press that strangely satisfying sensation in her abdomen from flaring at the mere thought of Ryder Cohen. Dammit, just thinking his name brought his face to mind and – stop that. She forced an awkward smile and hoped they bought it as shock from finding out they were angels.

"Nobody important. We figured you may have some questions for us. Would you like to talk now or do you still need a little time?" Shane sat beside her allowing his hand to settle near the small of her back.

"I am still angry guys. This, well, this is a lot to accept. You could have told me ages ago and saved a lot of trouble. It would have been nice to have somebody to confide in too."

Dan knelt on the floor in front of her again, "Storm, honey, how would you have handled it? You may not have been able to see us at all since Trin bound so much of your power. But now, your visions are getting worse and you are starting to feel. I think you are going to have to pick up on the acceptance part of this and move on to a solution."

"Could I just have a moment? I mean, what are you guys? Angels? Fallen angels? What's the proper term here? How could I have the visions with my powers bound? Why are they coming back so slowly? How do I have no control over any of it?" Storm looked from one to the other, forcing a questioning expression to her face since her body was still in high sexual alert from her encounter with Ryder. The flutter returned to her gut and she put it in check by pushing thoughts of Ryder out of her mind.

"Seraphs. We like to be referred to as seraphs. Angel sounds so girly, don't you think?" Dan tried very hard to sound matter of fact with a touch of irony. She found it unnerving.

"Yeah, that's what I would be worried about, sounding girly."

"Good to know your sarcasm is still working just fine. Listen, we know this is a lot to wrap your mind around but we only know some of the answers. Right now, the most important thing is making you understand how much danger you are in." Shane stood and looked down at her intently, "Storm, we love you, we do, but we are here to protect you first and foremost. To do that, you need to tell us about your recent visions. It is going to be nearly impossible to mask your aura now that you have unlocked all of your power. We need to know what, and who, could be coming for you."

"I don't see much about me. A warehouse, knives in the dark. It changes a bit from time to time." Storm tried to sound nonchalant but this whole thing felt more than a little freaky. A sense of foreboding took hold deep in her gut, quickly eradicating the remnants of lust she felt from Ryder. It appeared that seeing her death would be the least of her concerns. Once word of her got out, Storm Sullivan, the Emerald Seer, would be the most sought after person in the supernatural world. Dammit.

"Okay, we don't know everything about you or what you are capable of. We know that your aunt bound your emotions to bind your power when you were five. That's why your mother was such a wreck when you started having visions, they should have been bound with the rest of your powers. We still are not certain how you continued to have them since most Seers' visions are tied to their emotions and their emotional read on a particular situation." Dan stood to stretch his legs, apparently giving her a moment to grasp all of that information, "So, Trin bound your emotions, the thought being that if you did not feel you could not exercise your Sight or any of the powers that you would develop as you aged. You however are an anomaly, Storm. Your visions are not tied to your emotion though it appears some of your other talents are. With Trin's death your true talents will emerge with your emotions. We are hopeful that it will help you control your visions and the pain they cause."

"So, wait. Aunt Trin put a whammy on me and made me an unfeeling freak so that I wouldn't feel anything but I still got painful, mind-splitting visions anyway? Awesome." Storm knew she sounded childish but she couldn't help it. Stupid emotions, just like going through puberty again. Yet she continued, "And, to really drive things home, nobody knows what I may be capable of once everything is restored in me. What the hell? Shouldn't there be a manual for this sort of thing?"

"Storm," Shane's turn to lay down his take on things, his voice took on that condescending tone he usually reserved for impersonating an authority figure, "Trin loved you. She tried to protect you. She kept us in your life, she let you go when you needed to run but kept tabs on you all the time. She feared you being the Emerald Seer. Trin researched everything she could find on the Emerald and the Immortal Prophecy. Honestly, what would you have done?"

"I would have told the truth. I wouldn't have gotten myself killed without explaining first. Hell, I would have done a lot of things different." Okay, so she sounded a little self-righteous, who knew what she would have done, probably the same thing. Dammit. It didn't make this any easier to swallow. "So what, I am the Emerald Seer? The one born to end the line of Immortals? Really? You guys buy into all that? I grant you I have some freaky mojo going on with my emotions being unlocked and I have always been able to deliver a wicked curse when I put my mind to it, but I would have to believe in the prophecy first and then I would have to believe I had the power to pull off something that ridiculous. Look at me. I am a waitress and a cartoonist."

"No, babe, you are not. You never were. I think you should take a stroll back through your studio. Then, unlock the secret room behind the dresser in Trin's room." Dan sounded serious. It seemed so strange to look at them now, knowing they had wings and were celestial beings. "We cannot tell you everything, a lot of it we know nothing about, some of it you need to unlock yourself, to remember on your own time, but you cannot put it off anymore. The Immortals know you are here. One was just at your door. It is only a matter of time and we cannot protect you from the entire force of the Immortal Brethren. Believe me, whether you believe in them or not, they believe in you and I can pretty much assure you that they have no desire to kiss their immortality good bye."

Storm waited for the laughter, clearly humor had returned to the situation, really, immortal brethren tracking her to kill her? "Okay, sure, a band of immortal boys are hunting me down as we speak so I can't take away their eternity. Can we get ready and go out for dinner now?" Storm stood and looked down at them, forcing a casual smile and a bored expression.

"Storm, this is serious. You are in some deep shit here." Shane folded his arms across his chest. Both brothers looked disapproving.

"Come on guys, this is ridiculous. I am okay with you being ang- I mean, seraphs, you are not the first I have met, though I am curious about how and why you kept it from me. I have met banshees and warlocks and witches and sirens and several other supernaturals. I even met a guy who claimed to be an original demigod. But never in all my travels have I come across an Immortal. They are practically mythical. That ridiculous prophecy is just a silly story. My best guess is that my ancestors made up the Emerald Seer story to protect our line and secure our place in the hierarchy of supernaturals." Storm folded her own arms across her chest in defiance, okay so she really did seem to be channeling her inner teen.

"If it is such a silly tale, then why did you run ten years ago?" Dan raised an eye brow, his eyes flashing silver. "Something happened. None of us knew what but you took off and that means something frightened you."

Storm felt her shoulders go lax, her whole body succumbed in defeat, and she slumped back to the couch. Dammit. Tell them the truth or confess to fear of the prophecy. She weighed her options. Shane poked at her mind so she clamped down a wall.

"Well done, babe. But you know we know when you lie, right? Like yesterday when you had the vision and sent us for food?"

Storm looked up into his eyes; Shane was smiling broadly, a gotcha expression on his face. She knew hers read question mark. "Seraph skill. We can tell truth and lies."

Well hell's bells. "So wait, all those times, you mean, -"

"Yep. Every time, babe. It was pretty fun to mess with you though." Shane's chuckle shook his body a bit and Dan echoed his sentiment. She should have hit them again. Storm considered it.

"Come on, babe. Don't be mad. We protected you. A lot. We didn't betray your whereabouts to Trin. We kept tabs on you and let her know you were alright but never told her where you stayed. That should count for something." Shane touched her arm gently. "Babe, we are on your side. Really, we are. Your own personal guardians. So you are going to have to talk to us."

"This is a lot to take in, guys. I really want to go out for dinner and just table all of this for a bit. Can we do that? Please?" Storm batted her eyelashes playfully and watched as their faces melted into relaxed smiles again.

"Alright, we can do that. But, one of us needs to be with you at all times now. The Immortals know you exist and that there is something special about you. The one who stopped by earlier seemed curious but he didn't wish you any harm. Still, we are aware of several others in town right now. Can you agree to be good?" Dan looked skeptical but his shoulders relaxed when she eagerly nodded her agreement.

"Now, how about we unpack the rest of my stuff? We can drive the Hummer tonight if you like." Storm stood and pasted an overly enthusiastic smile on her face.

Shane shrugged, "A promise is a promise." His face lit at the mention of the Hummer. Yep, she still had it; the way to every guy's heart was food and a good ride.

As they walked out of the study, Storm thought to ask one more question, "So are you two really brothers?"

"Yes, babe. We are." There seemed to be more to the answer than that, but she decided to let Shane off the hook - for now. Storm made a mental check of all the questions they had left unanswered, and suppressed her desire to go through her studio, and Aunt Trin's supposed secret room. For now, she just wanted to try being normal, to see if she could just be a girl moving into her family house with two gorgeous men. No visions, no Immortals, just her seeing the world as a young woman should, with all the emotions she should have had her entire life.

Ryder

Ryder slid into the driver's seat as Lucian slammed the passenger door. Thankfully his friend didn't fight to drive this time. Ryder needed to drive to occupy his shaking hands. She did something to him. That's the only explanation, cursed him maybe? But he did not feel any different.

"Well, brother? What happened? Does she have the Sight?" For Lucian that marked easing into the conversation. Ryder grimaced.

As they sped through town toward his meeting with Frederick, Ryder doubted there was time to tell everything. He did not get the book. Without the book he could not prove anything to anybody. If Ryder could persuade Lucian enough to buy some more time he could slip back in for the book later. He needed Lucian. Her face flashed in his mind. Those eyes. Her touch. Ryder shook it off. He had to focus.

"Lucian, I have to meet Baron for a few to go over Starlight's stock. Could you call the boys and see if we can meet them for an early dinner instead? Maybe 4:30 at Il Bistro? That gives us time to talk, and we have a lot to discuss." Ryder worked to keep his voice steady but his mind kept returning to Storm Sullivan. He found her innocence beguiling, so young and unaware. He doubted she even knew about the legend. She did not seem to understand the depth of her power. How could that be possible?

"Ry, what happened in there? Talk to me, brother."

"I will, I am ready to tell you everything but I need to meet with Baron. What happened with the seraphs?" Just a temporary subject change but the information could be helpful. Information could do that.

Lucian shrugged, "Nothing, brother, nothing at all. We shot the shit, turns out they've heard of me. They certainly did not want me to set foot in the house. One of them started to glow a bit, I could tell they wanted badly to protect whomever was in the house."

"You seem disappointed." Definitely more to the story, he knew somebody special lived in the house. "Please, just give me time to explain everything before you do anything rash."

"I will, I owe you at least that. A bit of a fight would have been nice, though, I am restless again. You know what happens when I have no outlet for my energy, for the fire." Ryder knew. He had hoped the seraphs would fight Lucian a bit, just a little sparring to dampen his inner flame.

"I am sorry, Luc. We will figure something out. Perhaps Kell and Pollux would be willing to spar for a bit? Would that suffice?" Ryder hoped one or both would agree to a sparring session. He had a room in the basement of Durstine that would work. Doubt rolled off Lucian in waves. Clearly he too recalled the last time Kell and Pollux had agreed to a sparring match. Clearly he had another kind of activity on his mind. "Not Rosalee. I do not care who else you choose, but not Rosalee. I can call Angeline if you like, she is quite attractive and a familiar."

"Very well, call that lovely assistant of yours then, I prefer a romp with a woman." Lucian wagged his eyebrows in that familiar way.

Ryder laughed, "I will search for a new familiar then. Speaking of familiars, would you care to have a hand in Keene's demise?" It seemed a good time to lay a few cards on the table, a show of good faith for Lucian's support.

"Ah, so you do have the betrayer in custody."

"Of course. Did you doubt me? I could not let Roane know that, he's probably out tracking as we speak. I even left a few false trails to buy us some more time." Ryder looked at his friend, "Do not look so surprised, I did not know Roane and the boys were coming but I knew somebody would be sent to collect the familiar for trial. I want to deal with Keene first, I deserve that much. Then they can have what is left of him." Ryder had found the photos of Trin in Keene's room, boxes of surveillance footage and other personal effects the familiar had stolen. As it turned out, Keene had been stalking her for at least a year prior to Ryder's reconnaissance.

Lucian's turn to laugh, "Ry, you are one of a kind. I truly have missed you these last several decades. I hope there is nothing to this prophecy of yours, I would hate to lose you as an Immortal, brother."

He could not think of a way to answer that. Instead, Ryder ignored it and focused on pulling into his spot at Starlight, "Stay here, call the boys, I will be back in fifteen. Then I will fill you in on how important knowledge can be."

Ryder walked into the club; the front door unlocked, and found Frederick scrubbing the bar top, still in his jeans from the night before but with a black t-shirt and baseball cap turned backward. He must be off tonight and planning on sleep. Angeline had set up shop at a table with her laptop and briefcase opened before her. She had a navy blue pinstriped skirt suit on, her hair tightly plaited, and a pair of tortoise shell reading glasses. When she felt his entrance, Angeline looked up from her work and nodded tightly.

"Hey, boss. I let Ang in, she said she had something for you and needed to speak with you. I am ready to go over stock when you are done." Frederick head to the back room, clipboard in hand.

"Angeline?" Ryder looked down at his assistant. She closed the netbook and placed it inside her briefcase, standing in one fluid motion. Ryder noticed that Angeline's fae side emerged when her emotions ran high. She smoothed her hair and adjusted the hemline of her blazer before meeting his eye.

"My liege, Keene has taken his own life. We are not sure how he managed it but I have a team examining his cell. He scratched a suicide note on his shirt, seemingly with his own blood. I bagged it before the others arrived and locked it in the safe in your study. The body will be moved to your lab by nightfall." Angeline paused, her deep blue eyes flitting to the side for a moment and a slight flush colored her cheeks. "I have other, er, news. Roane stopped at the manor earlier. Rosalee did not allow him entry, he became rather aggressive so I intervened and blackened his eye. He was, dissatisfied. I have been relieved of my position as a familiar."

Ryder laid a hand on her shoulder. "Angeline, you will remain as my assistant. Roane has no power to remove your status as a familiar and I assure you that will not happen. Please accompany me for the remainder of the day. Lucian is in the car, you can keep him company while I finish with Frederick." Ryder watched Angeline's expression change from relief to curiosity and back to her usual flat affect. She turned toward the door, "Oh, and Angeline, be sure to tell Lucian about your encounter with Roane. He will appreciate it greatly."

Angeline smiled tightly and nodded. Ryder sighed. Roane would be furious and demand reparations. Or perhaps not, he would not likely admit to the rest of the Brethren that a female had inflicted the injury he sought compensation for. Ryder turned toward the stock room. He heard Frederick shuffling boxes around, the sound echoed down the long industrial-styled hall. Perhaps he should do something with it; definitely an upgrade of the staff rooms would be appreciated. Ryder shrugged and turned into the stock room where Frederick stood counting a crate of Jack Daniels. When he looked up, Ryder noted the circles under his eyes.

"Let's make this fast so you can get some sleep, friend." Frederick nodded and shrugged, his form of agreement. They blew through the stock counts quickly, nothing out of the norm; Frederick knew how to run the bar more efficiently that any he'd seen over the years. Ryder signed off on the requisitions and entrusted Frederick with calling it in. Looking over the bartender once more, Ryder studied him, yes, definitely the right choice.

"Frederick, how long have you worked for me?" Ryder did not miss the brief look of concern that registered on Frederick's face. Perhaps he should have worded that differently.

"Uh, about eight years or so. Why?" Frederick shifted his weight, adjusting his baseball cap before removing it altogether and shoving it in his back pocket. Ryder wanted to smile, but it would just be mean to laugh at the guy too.

"I would like you to take over Starlight for me." And there it went. Ryder worked hard to stifle his amusement. It took a moment for the statement to truly register. Frederick opened and closed his mouth a few times before actually forming words.

"What? Whoa. Wait, boss. Are you serious? Why?" Frederick's emotions flushed over his face and he ended up going silent. Ryder could not understand why it would be a shock. The guy worked hard and knew how the business needed to run. He was loyal above all. What Ryder could not tell him was that he intended to take Frederick as a familiar. The guy had a spark, some bit of fae or something somewhere along his line. Ryder did not think he knew, but many never picked up on their other senses unless they were triggered somehow. Regardless, it should n0t be difficult to pass Frederick through the council and their readers would pick up on whatever his supernatural inclination may be.

"I will have the papers drawn up for your promotion. You do not have to tend bar if you do not wish to but if you like the tips and tail, then by all means –" Ryder let the idea trail off. Frederick got the gist. He smiled ear to ear, giddy with excitement. Frederick's thoughts blared and Ryder had to clamp down on the connection to prevent a headache.

"Thank you, boss. Really, this is such an honor and I truly appreciate it." Frederick crossed the room in two strides and held out his hand. Ryder took it and nodded brusquely though he had the urge to smile back, caught up in the bartender's emotions.

"You have earned it. Keep up the good work." Ryder patted his shoulder approvingly and took his leave. He chuckled at the whoop of delight that echoed down the hall after him. As he walked into the light of day, Ryder changed his focus to the day ahead. Hopefully Lucian was able to put off the boys for a while.

Storm

Unloading the truck proved to be more work than she'd anticipated. The dining room ended up half-filled with her furniture, the ragtag collection of pieces she'd assembled and couldn't bear to part with. The paintings she'd kept were stacked against a bookshelf in the study, her clothes filled in her old closet and the one in the guest room next door. Boxes of miscellaneous items and books were stacked in the guest room as well. Dan and Shane joked as they always had – at her expense – as if the morning's conversations never occurred.

"Do you really plan to keep all of this junk, babe?" Shane surveyed the stacks of boxes in the guest room. "I mean, I had planned on crashing in this room tonight but I am not sure there is room for me."

"If you call my belongings 'junk' one more time I am going to curse you."

"Oooooh, Shane, our little Storm is going to curse you."

"You know I can and I would. Maybe some explosive pimples all over that gorgeous face, the ladies would love that." Storm crossed her arms over her chest and formed her most impressive look of abject disapproval.

"Actually, babe, you can't. You can't curse a seraph. Sorry to disappoint you." Shane looked almost remorseful. She couldn't curse them? Well that sucked. Dammit.

"Aw, Storm, don't look so sad. There are plenty of ways to harm us. For example, you are quite talented at breaking our hearts." Dan put an arm around her and feigned devastation. She felt anger all of a sudden; it welled up in her like a volcano.

"Breaking your hearts? Really? Do you even have hearts to break? Aren't you two some special celestial beings above all of that pathetic human emotion?" Storm heard her own voice rising, the heat flushed her face and Dan backed away.

"Storm, babe, calm down, just breathe." Shane took a step back. "You have to relax, Storm."

"Stop patronizing me. You two are always patronizing me." Storm felt strange, something seemed to be growing inside of her.

"Look at your hands, babe." Storm followed the direction of Shane's gaze and faltered, she might have screamed if she weren't so shocked. Her hands were glowing golden, as in bright light emanating from her fingertips and palms.

"Whoa. What in the hell is going on?" The glow faded and Storm felt drained and tired.

"It is your true power. This is why Trin bound your emotions. You really don't remember, do you?" Dan seemed perplexed. "Storm, I think we should skip dinner and work on educating you before something happens."

"Babe, I think Dan is right, your powers are tied very closely to your emotions and you have so little control over them right now. It's not your fault but you need to get a handle on this or you could hurt somebody." Shane paused for a moment and then smirked, "you know how you like to road rage, and you are liable to cause an accident with that glowing thing if somebody tailgates you. Heaven forbid somebody cut you off!"

Dan gave his brother a warning look and Storm frowned. "I don't road rage that bad." She felt the pout coming on. Dammit, she just wanted to feel a little normal, dinner at a nice restaurant with friends. Storm actually had money now, for the first time in years she didn't need to live in a sad, miserly fashion. Of course, in exchange, life had become more chaotic than it had ever been. Still, now that her emotions were unlocked, she wanted to feel something besides sorrow and anger. The thoughts warred in her head, staying home felt safe and logical. Going out felt fulfilling and, well, normal.

"Storm?" Shane's hand on her arm grounded her. Storm looked at him, careful to keep her emotions in check.

"I want to go to dinner. Please understand. I know my life is about to get harder than ever and I get that I am a little volatile right now, but I need something normal, something pleasurable. Can you two understand that?" She hated the pleading tone in her voice, but she suddenly cared whether or not they understood. Dammit. She did not like feeling, the glowing hands deal seemed kind of neat, though. What else could she do now?

"Storm, babe, we understand. It is difficult to accept our, eh, uniqueness. Your situation is complicated; I apologize for sounding patronizing. Why don't we shower up and go for an early dinner? That way we can avoid crowds and get back here to work on getting you some answers. Is that a happy enough compromise for you?"

Shane looked so hopeful. He turned on the charm and flashed a debonair smile her way. Gods how she wished there were some electricity between them. Storm still thought "Hardy Boys" when she looked at them. How unfortunate indeed. Perhaps as her emotions unfolded she would feel otherwise. Somehow, it didn't seem likely but either one would be a perfect match. After her interaction with Ryder, it didn't seem likely she would feel that way about anyone else. The flutter returned to her stomach as the image of his face entered her mind. Storm absentmindedly touched the place on her arm where Ryder had touched her earlier.

"Earth to Storm? Are you in there?" Shane stood before her, hands on her shoulders, just shy of shaking her. "Storm, babe, are we on for dinner then?"

"Sorry, yes, I – sorry. I am not sure what happened."

"Another vision?" Concern registered in Dan's voice and he took her elbow gently. Both men were so close, she could smell them, sweet and spicy.

"No, I just wondered what kind of powers I might have, what I might be capable of. I think Shane's plan is a good one. Let's get ready and head out. How about Il Bistro?" A new restaurant that had just gone in, it seemed a good choice to try out her new checking account. She'd read a few reviews and it seemed the food and atmosphere were just what they needed.

"Ooh la la, the lady has a taste for fancy today." The trio erupted in smiles, mood lightened instantly, and they split up to shower.

Storm stopped outside her bedroom door and turned back to her companions. "Hey, guys, what are you going to wear? I don't think mesh shorts are allowed in Il Bistro."

"Oh, Dan ran out while you were sleeping and packed a few bags for us. We sort of moved in. Hope you don't mind, babe."

"No, of course not. This house was big and empty when I lived here with Aunt Trin, I don't really want to stay here alone now." It wasn't a lie. She'd never felt comfortable in the big house. Dan and Shane had stayed over regularly when she was younger to ease her mind. Storm realized now that they'd kept the nightmares away, the weird feeling of being watched, all of the things that made her uncomfortable in Willow Wood. A shiver rippled down her spine. She was missing something. Storm shrugged it off and pushed open her bedroom door instead.

"Great, roomies again – and without the sneaking around." Dan's smiled broadly before walking into the room he'd selected to stay in, the one next to Trin's.

"We never snuck around. Trin always knew, bro." Shane smiled and raised an eyebrow at Storm. "You realize she knew all along, right, babe?"

Storm rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Of course. She never cared that you guys stayed, remember, she just loved you. I guess I know why now. She knew about you all along, huh?"

"Yeah, babe. Yeah she did. Why don't you go get ready, put on something sexy." Shane turned toward the bathroom, dropping his drawers has he went, what a butt. Wow. Were all seraphs that gorgeous? She'd only met half a dozen other than Dan and Shane and they had all been lovely, males and females. As much time as Storm has spent around supernaturals it seemed she still had a lot to learn.

Storm forced herself to undress and slip into the shower. She thought about the guys, even if she couldn't get into them sexually she could appreciate their fine bodies from an artist's perspective. Maybe she could coerce them into posing for her. That thought kept her smiling as she showered and prepped. As it turned out, there were some new items in her closet, tags still attached. Storm shook her head. They had gone shopping for her.

Hair blow-dried and straightened, light makeup, simple knee-length, emerald green sheath dress and a pair of black boots made Storm feel like a different person.

Storm descended the staircase and found the guys waiting in the foyer, arguing over which car to take. They wore complimenting outfits as usual, black pants and stylishly cut jackets but Dan had selected a mint green shirt and Shane sported a soft blue-grey one. Halfway down the lower flight she stopped and cleared her throat. Dan and Shane stopped fighting and drank her in, toes all the way up to her loose locks. Dan's mouth went slightly agape and Shane let out an appreciative cat call.

Storm nodded and settled the argument. "I think we will take the Hummer tonight. It seems safer and while it may be more conspicuous than my Beetle, it is a little less so than the Lamborghini."

Dan stepped forward and offered his arm for her to take. "I just made that same argument to my dear brother. Might I say, you look stunning."

Shane, not to be out done, took her free hand and laid a gentle kiss across the back of it. "You are truly a vision, babe."

"Gee, thanks guys. Can we go eat now? My stomach is turning in on itself." She could feel the grumbling sensation growing in the pit of her stomach. Steak sounded awfully good all of a sudden.

"Sure thing. I'm driving!" Shane snatched the keys and led the way to the garage. Dan lifted Storm into the passenger seat of the Hummer. So she hadn't thought everything through, for example the logistics of getting in and out of the Hummer in such a form fitting dress, but that's what big, strong seraphs were for, right?

Ryder

Sure enough, Angeline's encounter had amused Lucian to the nth degree. He made her re-tell it a dozen times on the way back to Durstine Manor. Ryder noted how his assistant relaxed a bit more with each telling, accepting that she, and her position, remained secure. Lucian was definitely interested in her, good thing he had begun the process with Frederick. He had hoped to keep Angeline on, but perhaps she would be better suited with Lucian.

"Angeline, I think it wise for you to take up residence in the manor, at least until Roane leaves town. I would feel better knowing that you are safe within the Durstine. I will have Rose set up a suite for you on the far side of the manor. There is a kitchenette and we can have your belongings delivered within the day. Give Rose a list of groceries you would like."

Her eyes flared for an instant before she nodded in acceptance. He could not tell if Angeline resented or appreciated the arrangement. Of her many supernatural talents, Angeline had superb shielding skills. Nobody could read her if she did not want them to. Ryder appreciated the talent and hired her in part for that reason. They pulled into the garage and filed into the house. Angeline excused herself to find Rose. Lucian nudged him in the rib cage and mimed eating. Of course.

"Oh, and Angeline, please have Rose send for a dress for you. I would like you to accompany us to dinner this evening at Il Bistro. Please be ready at four o'clock. Until then, make yourself at home."

Angeline turned back toward them and offered her customary nod of understanding. "Yes, my liege. Thank you for your hospitality." Professional formality as always. He really hated that she referred to him as 'my liege.' No matter how many times her urged her to use his name she refused.

Ryder led Lucian to the study in silence. Once inside, Ryder cast a buffing enchantment around the room. Lucian poured a drink and settled in the same chair he'd occupied earlier. "This must be serious, brother."

"It is indeed, Lucian. My life depends on this." Ryder moved to the massive walnut desk and withdrew a yellowed scroll, a notebook, and a worn journal. He settled in the chair opposite Lucian and studied his friend intently. The inner flame seemed stifled for the time being, thankfully.

Lucian shrugged and grinned boyishly. "I had Angeline while we waited for you. The car was less than comfortable but the experience well worth it."

"I suspected as much."

"She is quite pleasurable. I enjoyed her immensely. She makes interesting sounds when –"

"I really do not want to know that, Lucian. I am simply pleased she could tame the flame." Ryder unrolled the scroll first and handed it to Lucian. He set his drink on the table beside him and accepted the parchment. "Trin Sullivan asked me to translate this for her. It has been handed down through the generations. She seemed to believe it was a gift from the Tuathe De. She also has a journal that documents everything about the Sullivan line including the prophecies related to the Emerald Seer."

"This is a Tuatha De Scroll? Truly? So things were hotter with her than you have let on. No Sullivan would have readily parted with such a relic." Lucian considered him appreciatively for a moment before turning back to the scroll. Ryder watched intently as Lucian scanned the document, read it again, more slowly, and a third time, his eyes growing bigger with each pass.

"Ry, this is a very different take on the prophecy. How do you know it is not a Sullivan trick to gain your trust and compliance?" Lucian read the scroll once more before handing it back.

"I know it is no trick because I saw the journal and I compared it to our archives. The time frames match as do the descriptions of the Sullivan Seer. The only differences involve what the Emerald Seer is actually capable of. And, to that end, it is noted in the archives that there was a scandal and some dissention regarding what would be submitted to our final record of the prophecy. I have been trying to find out who the dissenting Immortal was but the monks remain silent on the subject." Ryder paused and took the scroll from Lucian. "The Brethren are incorrect in their assessment of the legend. I do not believe the Emerald Seer is destined to end our Immortality as a collective. According to the Sullivan journal, and Trin herself, the Emerald Seer should be capable of ending immortality but only as an out for those of us who would ask for it. She was never meant to be the destruction of the Immortal line."

Lucian expression changed several times and he downed the rest of his drink before speaking. "Ry, if this is all true, why did you have Trin Sullivan killed?"

Ryder sighed, now for the biggest confession, "I did not have her killed Lucian. I do not know who murdered her. They are not coming forward and because of my mission I had to feign responsibility to buy more time. I have suspicions that somebody on the Council has been sabotaging me and there is a third party involved somehow. I need to get the Sullivan journal and keep an eye on Trin's niece. Whoever killed Trin will likely make an attempt on the niece so we need to catch him in the act. I have a team monitoring her already." Ryder did not tell Lucian that he lacked faith in the team on her detail or that he planned to slip out this evening to watch over her himself.

"How in Hades do you end up in a shit storm every time I visit you? It never fails. I bailed you out of the Inquisition and the Crusades, the Salem Witch Hunts and that tight spot you landed in at Woodstock. What is your plan with this? Do you even have one, brother?" Lucian's flame flared slightly in his eyes, excitement roused the fire as much as anything.

Ryder felt his shoulders fall, ducked his head and quietly responded, "I want her to take my Immortality. I want Trin Sullivan's niece to have the ability. I wanted Trin to do it, but she could not, she knew she could not when we got involved. Trin lied to me but I think she just wanted to live. I cannot fault her for that. I lied to her as well. I cared for her but did not love her." Ryder looked to his friend, he'd carried the guilt for so long it felt liberating to share the secrets. "You would have appreciated her, actually. Trin Sullivan had her own fire within, it plagued her, a curse she took on some twenty years ago." Ryder stood, suddenly it all became clear. He crossed to the far wall and poured himself a glass of whiskey, downing it and refilling the glass before returning to Lucian. "I just realized why the niece showed no signs of power until recently, and what exactly Trin's curse entailed. Trin used me as a means of protecting her niece."

"Ry, you are going to have to catch me up here."

"Lucian, things just got really complicated. Trin Sullivan must have bound her niece's powers twenty years ago which meant she took them on herself, to a degree. Her death unleashed the girl's powers. Storm did not register as powerful because most of her power remained harnessed within Trin. The girl is a grown woman whose powers have suddenly been unlocked. We have no idea how much Storm knows but she has just came into a good deal of ancient magic." Ryder began to pace. This could be bad. Very, very bad. Presumably the seraphs knew of her situation but had they informed her? Ryder's mind reeled with all the possible scenarios that could end in Storm's demise.

Lucian seemed to be following his train of thought, though he remained relaxed, lounging in the leather chair. "Ry, relax brother. We know she is guarded by two seraphs who presumably are aware of her unique situation. Now that you have figured it out, we can coerce Kell and Pollux to run protection shifts with us. We will keep her safe until this gets sorted out but you have got to relax."

Ryder slumped in the chair. Easier said than done. He felt something for this girl. When they touched something happened. It seemed less likely that she'd cursed him and more likely that there was something deeper at work. "Lucian, even if we protect the girl, we still have Roane in town with a secret agenda and the little matter of the unknown party who murdered Trin Sullivan. Even with Kell and Pollux we are spreading ourselves thin." Ryder placed his glass on the table and ran his hands through his hair. What a mess, Lucian was right, how did he always end up in these situations? And always revolving around the Sullivans.

"Ry, I know the girl's mother had to be a Sullivan, who fathered her?" Ryder looked at Lucian; his friend appeared deep in thought though the question seemed simple enough.

"Trin told me that Storm's father left early on and that it had been really hard on the whole family. She never told me whether or not the father had a supernatural ability of any kind. I do not know much else about him but I think it is safe to assume he was something supernatural." Ryder stopped moving and looked at his watch. "We need to get ready, it is nearly three and I want to make sure Rosalee has Angeline's belongings sent over. Perhaps you should go check on Angeline too; the flame has appeared more than once since we started this conversation. It will not do for your inner demons to emerge at dinner."

"What a fabulous idea. I will gladly check in on her, perhaps her dress needs to be zipped." Lucian smiled devilishly, the flame once again flickering behind his eyes.

Ryder replaced the notebook and scroll in his desk. He remembered that Angeline left Keene's supposed suicide note in the safe but decided to save that for later. Releasing the enchantment on the room, the Immortals parted ways at the main hall. On the way to his suite, Ryder stopped in the kitchen to fill Rosalee in on the living arrangements, not oblivious to the disappointment in her voice at the news Angeline would be moving in.

The shower felt heavenly, scalding hot against his skin, but not as hot as her touch had been. Storm Sullivan's face filled his head, her creamy skin and large emerald eyes, full of innocent wonder. He longed to pull her close, feeling the length of her body against his own. Like all Sullivan women, she was voluptuous with flaming red hair, his deadly combination. Ryder imagined her soft, full lips on his own. A simple shower turned into something much more involved but ended in only a partial release of his pent up desires. Drying off, Ryder realized he would need to avoid Storm Sullivan until all of his questions could be answered.

Storm

They pulled into Il Bistro creating a bit of a scene in the shining black Hummer, though it probably had more to do with Shane cutting off two cars and taking up two parking spaces, than anything else. He hopped out of the Hummer and Storm saw him shrug at the other patrons who, fortunately for him, happened to be women. Of course, they melted at the sight of Shane's charming grin. Storm shook her head from the passenger seat and shimmied out into Dan's waiting arms.

"Looks as though my brother is making friends already," Dan frowned disapprovingly.

"Oh, I don't think he means anything by it. He can't help himself." Storm stifled a smile feigning mutual disproval for a moment.

Shane joined them around the back of the Hummer and took her arm. Sandwiched between the guys, Storm felt safe and satisfied. She'd called ahead for a reservation but there seemed to be little need. When they entered the restaurant she noticed several empty tables, it must be too early for a dinner crowd at the trendy new dining spot. The hostess confirmed her suspicions in between sidelong glances at Dan and Shane. The woman wore a figure-defining black sheath dressed with a pair of trendy heels and her hair wrapped in a crisp, clean bun at the base of her neck. She led them through the maze of white-clothed tables to a u-shaped booth along the wall of stained glass windows. Storm slid around to the back and sank into the plush black leather. She admired the modern, slate-topped table and delicate centerpiece, vintage-style candelabra with white votives flickering in the breeze from the overhead fans.

The hostess handed menus to Dan and Shane, flashing her them her most stunning smile. "My name is Cherie, if there is anything I can get for you, please don't hesitate to ask." She practically threw the third menu at Storm before sashaying away.

"I don't think she cares for you, babe." Dan nudged her lightly and opened his menu, presumably to hide an amused grin.

"No, and I think she cares a bit too much for you two. I am pretty sure she is now imagining a wild night involving both of you at once." Storm opened her menu.

"There is only one woman we would consider such a night with." Both men lowered their menus and looked at her meaningfully. She knew how they felt but she didn't return the sentiment. Storm lifted her own menu to break eye contact.

"Babe, you know how we feel. What would be so wrong about us being together?" Shane's hand landed on her arm. She dropped the menu. Time to change the subject.

"I think I am going to order the crab bisque. What about you guys?" She avoided eye contact by focusing on the delicate contours of the candelabra, wrought iron she supposed. Maybe they would just drop it if they sensed how uncomfortable it made her. Storm didn't think she could tell her best friends in the world that they made her think of the Hardy Boys.

"Storm, how often are you going to change this subject?" Dan's hand now rested on her other arm. She felt cornered, slightly desperate, definitely wanted. Her thoughts drifted to Ryder. He made her feel something, the right something. Everything about him spoke to her. Storm looked at her hands and bit her lip. Dammit.

"Guys, uh, I think we need to dial this down." Her fingertips started to glow. Dan realized it first and took her hand in his, moving it beneath the table top, to hide the light.

"Right, we will discuss this later. Crab bisque you say? I am thinking about a steak. Still your treat, right?" Shane followed suit and Storm worked to clamp down the feeling in her gut until the glow receded.

"Of course, order whatever you like. We are celebrating after all. Shane?" She looked to him, his eyes burning with something fierce. "Shane, honey, what are you going to order?"

The waiter arrived at that moment, a plain, college-aged guy with no outstanding qualities whatsoever. He eyed Storm's cleavage for a moment before introducing himself as Ray and asking for their drink orders. Shane did not miss the glance and clearly took offense to it. Storm took his hand and squeezed lightly. When he met her eye she gave a warning look. Dan fortunately covered and ordered a round of drinks, dismissing the waiter quickly.

"Shane, what is going on?" Dan sounded harsh but Shane seemed to snap out of it.

"There is something wrong with that waiter, brother. I read darkness on him. He has mistreated women and he has set his eyes on Storm." Shane grimaced, "He is the one we have been looking for. We haven't found him because he moves restaurants regularly."

"Well, then we will take care of this after dinner. You cannot let on that you are aware of his intentions. Storm, care to help us out with this guy?" Dan turned to face her, his expression a mixture of exhilaration and curiosity. Storm remembered the stories in the paper, the guy carving runes in his victims and then splaying them in very public settings to bleed out. Dan and Shane had been searching for him for months. She shuddered remembered the body count, at least a dozen women over the past year. This could be just what she needed.

"I thought you'd never ask. That creep needs to be locked up. What do I have to do?"

Dan leaned in to whisper in her ear, it must have looked intimate to anybody who didn't know better, "Just flirt with him a bit. Make him think you are interested but play coy. Now push me away and laugh, he is walking our way."

Storm did as instructed, giggled in a way that made her seem vapid. It sounded strange coming out of her mouth but delivered the desired reaction as their waiter raised his eyebrows in her direction. Storm arranged her lips in a slight pout and used her Marilyn Monroe impression to order. She finished with a little wink. For the remainder of their meal, Storm behaved as such whenever the waiter returned to their table. He was definitely invested and Shane seemed to be having a difficult time with the mental images he projected. Storm paid with cash and slipped a note in the small black leather binder asking the waiter to meet her in the alley in ten minutes. She signed it with a fake name and a little heart for good measure.

Dan and Shane made a point of going out to the car first while she loitered for a few moments and caught the waiter's eye. He nodded in agreement, his gaze hungry. Storm made a show of leaving out the side exit.

Ryder

Ryder found himself struggling to finish his meal. How could she be there? Of all the restaurants in town why Il Bistro? He worked to focus on the conversation, to laugh appropriately with his companions. Fortunately, Roane had chosen not to join them. It proved impossible to extract his eyes from the Seer. She sat at a booth directly across from them on the opposite side of the restaurant but stood out in the crowd like a beacon. He barely noticed the seraphs on either side of her, their power suddenly paled in comparison to that emanating from Storm Sullivan. How did his companions not see it? A golden glow around her entire being, far brighter than Trin's had ever been. For that matter, far brighter than any he'd ever seen. She had to be the Emerald.

Eventually Lucian caught his wavelength and worked to keep Kell and Pollux occupied but Angeline clearly noticed his obsession with the redhead across the room. She nudged him under the table at one point to break his eye contact. He was not sure if Angeline worried more about his fixation for business reasons or because he failed to acknowledge her appearance. Ryder had actually noticed, even appreciated what she'd done with herself, but Angeline was not Storm Sullivan. Lucian seemed interested however and had nodded approvingly more than once in her general direction. Angeline garnered a more appropriate response from Kell and Pollux whose eyes bulged slightly when she entered the restaurant. The black satin dress hugged every curve, dipped low in the appropriate places, and had a slit up one leg that left little to the imagination. She'd done her hair in a glamorous twist and added dangling diamond earrings for added effect. Every man in the place had eyes on Angeline, every man but four – Ryder, the seraphs, and the strange waiter.

The waiter. Something seemed off about that kid. When Angeline got up to apparently powder her nose, Ryder leaned into Lucian and asked his opinion on the situation. Lucian furrowed his eyebrows meaningfully and focused on the issue at hand, he'd always been better at reading humans. Lucian observed and nodded tightly after witnessing a few interactions between the waiter and Storm.

"How do we handle this one, brother?"

"I do not know. The Seraphs should know better. What do you think?"

"That kid is bad news. He is a hunter, not a flicker of supernat in him but more than a healthy dose of evil. He is a pure sociopath and seems to be gunning for your girl." Lucian's inner fire flickered briefly; he'd always had a thing for punishing those who liked to abuse women. This guy clearly set Lucian off. Yet another bad sign for the kid.

"She is not my girl." Ryder worked to keep his tone level. Inside he seethed. This boy intended to harm Storm. Rage and frustration bubbled below the surface; he felt it rolling under his skin as the power amplified. Every talent Ryder possessed warred within him fighting for the same purpose – to protect Storm Sullivan. He paused for a moment to consider the complete over-reaction but he could not deny the impulses. Pollux nudged him hard in the ribs causing Ryder to realize he gripped the table so hard it had cracked.

"Whatever you say, brother. We have to act if you want to help her." Lucian nodded toward the side of the restaurant where Storm slipped out, completely unescorted. Why would the seraphs leave her unprotected?

"Pollux, stay here and wait for Angeline, have her pay with the business card and stall her. Kell, Lucian, will you join me in the alley for a moment?"

Everybody nodded silently and moved to action. The three Immortals walked out the side exit moments after the waiter. Already he had Storm up against the wall of the building, a hunting knife to her throat.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, kid." Lucian made a show of cracking his knuckles and simultaneously flexing his size. The kid stood half a foot taller than Storm but looked scrawny to Ryder. Storm turned to face them; her eyes fell on Ryder and flared briefly. She mouthed 'no' to them.

The kid hesitated. This had never happened to him so he could not register how to react. Ryder's skin crawled, all of the fury rolling into his fists. Lucian and Kell clearly felt the heat and backed away accordingly. Ryder advanced on his prey, certain his visage frightened the freakish boy. The kid's eyes flew wide as he questioned the intention to harm Storm. The knife clattered to the ground. Storm closed her eyes and tried to slip from the kid's grasp but he held her tight, his left hand in a death grip on her shoulder and pinning her to the wall with his pelvis and knee. This kid most certainly wished for death. In that moment Ryder could read him like a book, his fear unlocked a door into the mind and Ryder saw how many times he'd victimized women. The fury ran over, he could not control it.

"Storm, push him off and slip away. You can do it." Ryder's voice came out steadier than he felt. He registered her nod before acting. Things happened quickly after that, Storm brought her free leg up and connected with the waiter's groin. The kid released her and grasped at his genitals allowing her to slip away and out of Ryder's line of vision. The waiter keeled over, tears pouring from his eyes as he clutched at the injury.

"You should have listened to my colleague, freak. She is far out of your league, you have no business looking at her let alone touching her. It may be different if you had not done this before, or if you had not chosen my woman. You have made a series of bad choices, freak." Ryder bent down beside the waiter and leaned in close, "Every choice has consequences. What do you suppose yours should be?"

"What are you doing?" Ryder spun around, the intruding voice one he did not recognize. He looked beyond Lucian and Kell to see the seraphs fuming at the alley entrance. They each sported handguns and badges. Their plan became clear but it did not ease Ryder's hunger for vengeance. The freak would have harmed Storm if he'd not intervened. So much could have happened in the time between the waiter entering the alley and the seraphs arriving – too much. He seethed. The power inside him simmering. Ryder tried to remind himself that she was safe. Storm stood close to Lucian and Kell had taken a step in front of her.

"I saved her from this thing. Where were you two? You were sent to protect her yet you left her alone with this thing?" Ryder kicked the kid in the gut to drive his point home.

"We have been looking for this guy for months. We have more than a dozen murders to pin on him. We can put him away legally and give peace to the families of his mortal victims. What is your plan?" The seraphs lowered their guns and casually walked forward. Storm stood there between Kell and Lucian, looking from one man to the next, clearly trying to figure a way to diffuse the situation. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and kiss her. Hell, Ryder wanted to whisk her away and undress her to check over every inch of her and – the freak moved to stand up virtually annihilating the fantasy building in Ryder's mind. Ryder's brought his foot up and smashed it down on the freak's leg. The sound of shattering bone echoed through the alley.

"I would stay down if I were you, freak. We would not want any more broken limbs, would we?" Ryder looked down at the kid who started blubbering but had the good sense to avoid screaming.

"Immortal, you are out of your element here. We had her covered and –"

"Would you all stop acting like Neanderthals? I can absolutely take care of myself and I had the situation under control. Seriously, you all need to breathe for a moment and recognize that this lady can handle herself." Everybody turned to look at Storm. She looked beautiful, her eyes flaring in fury and resentment. Ryder had thought her innocence beguiling, but this other side of her sent him over the edge. Lucian looked over and moved toward him.

"Brother, reign it in. Seriously, you can't do this here."

Ryder blinked and breathed deeply. He looked to Storm. She shrugged and turned toward the seraphs. "I don't think this man is going to be rehabilitated. Dan, Shane, I think we let these guys handle him from here. Why don't you two take me home and we can continue with our evening as planned. You don't have to know what happens, it won't be on your conscience if he, oh, I don't know, disappears." She turned to face Ryder, her eyes boring into him. He suppressed a shudder of pleasure.

"You, Immortal. I am not your woman and if I ever hear those words out of your mouth again I will see to it that they are your last." She stepped closer to him. The electricity between them became palpable, even she noticed it, and they both took a step backward. "As I suggested, you three, take care of this thing. I don't want him to hurt another woman – ever." She turned on her heel, shoulders back and chin jutted out, and walked away. The seraphs followed her, perplexed expressions on their near identical faces.

Ryder turned to the waiter. "Freak, my friends and I are about to have some fun with you. You enjoy hurting women, right? Well, my friend here, he likes to hurt freaks like you."

Lucian stood beside him. "Brother, you have created a serious shit storm here. What do you intend to do with this thing." He kicked the kid too. The fire flickered in Lucian's eyes.

"I thought maybe we could feed your flame with him. You know, appease the beast for a bit?"

"Ry, you know how I feel about freaks who abuse women, but I think the seraphs had the right of this one. If you breathe through this for a moment and let your feelings for the girl dissipate some, you will realize I am right."

"Ry, I agree. You are incensed over this girl. What is going on here?" Kell chimed in and Ryder realized he'd never win this one. He would regret this.

"Stop the seraphs. Let them take him. On the condition that I take the girl home so she is still guarded."

Ryder did not miss the silent exchange between Lucian and Kell. It did not matter, Storm was all that mattered. Kell took off toward the parking lot. Lucian kicked the kid in the gut once more, apparently for good measure, and clapped Ryder on the shoulder.  
"Brother, you have it bad. Maybe I should guard her instead."

Ryder glared at his friend. Lucian withdrew, "Sorry, brother, apparently a bad suggestion. You have to get a grip or you will scare her. We don't know how much she knows about our kind, let alone your particular intricacies. Come on, Ryder. I have never seen you like this, not even with Jasmine." Lucian's voice fell off as he said her name. Ryder's last wife. He'd mourned her for decades, now he barely remembered her face. Storm had replaced her; all he could see now was the Emerald.

"I do not know what it is Lucian. I see the girl and I just want to protect her."

"I'd bet my immortality that is not all you want to do to her." Lucian wagged his eyebrows, an obvious attempt to diffuse the situation. It did not seem to be working. Ryder still felt riled up. He wondered for a brief moment if Lucian felt this way when his inner flame flared.

Kell came around the corner at just that moment. Ryder felt nothing but gratitude for the interruption.

"They have agreed. You are to take the girl back to her home and wait with her until they return. They were not pleased with the arrangement but agreed that she needs protection." Kell half smiled, "A word of warning though, the girl is not pleased, and it seems she does not believe she needs protection, least of all yours."

"I think you have your work cut out for you, brother." Lucian smiled, "I will get Angeline home. Don't worry, we won't wait up." He disappeared through the side entrance. Kell stood there staring at him. Ryder knew he wanted to ask about everything.

"Let it go Kell. Just for a while. Please keep it to yourself, everything that happened today. You can tell Pollux but don't let it go further, alright?" Ryder met his pupils gaze.

"I get it, Ry. We are with you. Always." Kell placed a fist on his chest and bowed before heading back into the restaurant. Ryder knew he meant it. The seraphs rounded the corner.

"Good luck with her, Immortal. She is feisty and then some. I am Shane, this is my brother Dan." They exchanged handshakes before acknowledging the waiter. "Don't worry seraph. We will handle this. He will not harm her. We are curious as to why you do not want to harm her, though. You clearly know what she is."

Ryder looked Shane in the eye and spoke his truth, "I did not harm Trin Sullivan. I have no intention of harming her niece either. My reasons are my own for now. I will not allow anything to happen to her. I swear it."

The seraphs exchanged looks and shrugged, Shane spoke for the pair once more, "You have it bad, dude. She is a tough one, our Storm. Don't say we didn't warn you. She is in the black Hummer; since you knew Trin you should recognize it."

Storm

Dammit. She actually regretted hitting them. Now Storm wished she'd hit them harder and more than once. How could they betray her like this? She planted her hands on the steering wheel and exhaled in the irritated fashion she'd recently developed. For a fleeting moment, an image of Trin doing the same exact thing, popped in her head. A calm washed over her and it registered that Dan and Shane were oblivious to the confrontation she'd had with the Immortal earlier in the day. They had no clue that her body reacted so intensely to him. It really couldn't be their fault. Dammit. Still, she didn't need a baby-sitter. That they should have known. Ha. She could be angry with them.

The driver's side door swung open. Storm whipped her head around, face held in a mask of fury and irritation in hopes of disguising the excited flutter she felt inside. There he stood, hairs falling loose from the leather throng, the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. His face betrayed his confusion for a moment and then he regained that smug expression she'd seen in the alley.

"I have been instructed to accompany you home as protection." That smooth, velvety voice with the tinge of steel, dammit, he even knows he is suave.

"Just because you are guarding me like a child does not mean you get to drive my car. I can absolutely take care of myself." Storm fought to keep her hands on the wheel; she wanted to fold her arms across her chest to drive the point home but thought better of it. She wouldn't put it past him to just remove her from the car or transplant her in the passenger seat. "If you are coming, you'd better get in. The trunk works for me."

He shook his head and shut the door. In seconds, the Immortal climbed in to the passenger side and buckled in. "What have I done to offend you?" His voice seemed sad somehow. Dammit, now she felt guilt. This feeling thing really sucked.

Storm chose to ignore him. She started the Hummer and pulled away, grateful that Shane had fought for the pull through spot. Her maneuverability skills in the Beetle would not likely translate to the Hummer and it would have been a great embarrassment in front of Him. She flipped on the radio and turned it up. Before she registered the song, her companion began laughing.

Storm reached over and turned the music down again, "What is so funny?"

"Oh, now you want to talk. Quid pro quo, Miss Sullivan, you answer my question first." That smug expression again. Gods he could be the most beautiful man ever created. His eyes twinkled mischievously. Storm looked back to the road, pushing the butterflies in her stomach aside, wading through the frustration over the encounter in the alley, and worded her response carefully.

"I could have handled him myself. I am not without talent. Not only did you interrupt what should have been an easy bust, you beat the freak down and referred to me as your woman. Does any part of that sound endearing to you? Hmmm?" She stole a sidelong glance at him as he rearranged his hair, replacing the loose strands in the leather throng.

"Point taken, Miss Sullivan. Please, tell me what did you plan to do to him?"

Anger flared again, he was mocking her. She decided to play it differently, throw him off his suave game. "No, it is your turn. Why did you start laughing at me?" He didn't respond. She turned to look, ready to berate him some more when she realized he'd turned the music back up and pointed at the radio. She tilted her head and listened. "Riders on the Storm" by the Doors. "Har. Har. You know Aerosmith too? They did a little song called Dream On."

"Touché, Miss Sullivan. I simply found it ironic and entertaining." Ryder paused, started to speak, and then apparently thought better of it. The rest of the ride to Willow Wood passed in tension-packed silence. Storm nearly suffocated in her desire, the fluttering in her gut multiplied and spread to every bit of her body. Her skin thrummed with excitement. Perhaps this part of feeling could become pleasant if she could somehow learn to control it.

She pulled into the garage, turned off the engine, and slipped out of the Hummer. Certainly Ryder would be interested in the cars, what man wouldn't? She pointed out the various models as they walked by, Ryder nodded appreciatively but she felt his eyes on her the entire time. It should have been unsettling instead of exhilarating. Dammit. This could get bad. Dan said it would take at least two hours to book the freaky waiter and she knew the precinct was at least a forty-five minute drive from her house. She could get into a lot of trouble in that time.

Storm led Ryder into the kitchen. "Would you like something to drink? They guys stocked beer and wine in the fridge and I have coffee and tea. What's your poison?"

"You are still angry with me." Ryder did not word it as a question. She felt her shoulders drop in response. He would not be letting this go.

"Yes. Look, don't take it personal. I am new to this feeling thing." Nicely done Storm, make the guy think you are an even bigger freak. Fabulously endeavored.

"Feeling thing? I am afraid I don't follow." Dammit. She turned to face him. Ryder was studying her, his expression a mix of want and confusion. Great. Why couldn't it just be want? She could work with him wanting her, confusion over wanting her was a different matter altogether.

"Come on, you Immortals have been watching me, you have to know." Storm didn't buy it. Dan had warned her that they were watching her but for some reason they trusted this one not to harm her. Something about him had sold them on her being safe in his care.

"Enlighten me, Miss Sullivan, please." He didn't know. Oh, that voice. She wanted to wrap herself in his voice, she wanted him whispering in her ear, she wanted – stop. Focus.

"My Aunt Trin bound my emotions when I was a child. She died. Spell broken. Emotions raging like a teenage girl in the throes of PMS. I am learning to control them, but, well, I am new at this." She pulled a bottle of pinot grigio from the fridge. "I choose wine. Would you like a glass?"

"I would, thank you." He crossed to the breakfast bar and sat on one of the stools while she uncorked the bottle. "Why did your aunt bind your emotions?"

Storm focused a little too intently on pouring the wine. She felt his eyes on her. Gods, she didn't want to go here, she didn't want him to know how messed up her life had gotten, or that she could steal his immortality if the legends were correct. Storm set the wine bottle down, it made a little clink on the granite counter top. She took a glass in each hand and walked around to sit on the stool beside Ryder. Their fingers brushed along the thin stem as she handed him the glass. That same electricity flared, she swore they actually glowed for a moment, dammit, that would be her emotions flaring. Ryder's eyes flared at the touch as well. She certainly did not imagine that.

"I don't know why." Storm looked down, not sure if she was more saddened by the absence of his touch or the lie she'd just told him. He moved slightly causing their knees to brush and this time her knee truly glowed.

"I seem to have an interesting effect on you, Miss Sullivan." Again, not a question. She felt a flush rising in her cheeks and that damnable fluttering in her stomach intensified and spread downward. His fingers were on her chin, gently attempting to lift her eyes to meet his. "Storm, look at me." She did. How could she not? It wasn't exactly an order but every inch of her body reacted to the velveteen words. Several strands of hair fell across his face as Ryder studied, searching her face for something. She smiled awkwardly, embarrassed by the glow building around her.

His lips met hers, softly at first and then more intense as he took away her wine glass and set it on the counter with a clink. Then she was in his arms, crushed against him as he kissed along her jawline, down her neck and back up. Ryder pulled back and looked into her eyes, his flashed blue to green to silver and back again, excitement flaring and mixing with a hunger she'd never seen before. He kissed her again, tugging at her bottom lip as he withdrew. Storm rose to her tiptoes and threw her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his wherever possible. Her body raged internally, the emotions rumbling through her like waves on the beach. She kissed him, pushed her tongue gently into his mouth. He groaned in response, a throaty sound that sent a new wave of flutters through her stomach. Ryder grabbed her legs and wrapped them about his waist. She realized what came next, a flicker of concern flashed through her mind and then his lips were fluttering along her neck and passion hit full on once more.

Ryder carried her out of the kitchen to the dining room and placed her on the edge of the massive table. Sliding his hands down her sides he masterfully unzipped her dress and slipped it off her shoulders to her waist without altering the rhythm of baby kisses he simultaneously peppered along her collarbone. Storm reached down and unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and used her feet to maneuver them down. Ryder wore nothing underneath. She instinctively slid to the edge of the table allowing her hemline to slide up. Ryder pulled back, looked at the bunched up dress, frowned and ripped it open along the side seam. He cast it aside and looked down on her, his eyes two strange silvery pools. She felt suddenly self-conscious in nothing more than her bikini undies and lacy black bra. Ryder tore her bra open in the middle, his hands palming her breasts and then his lips found her left nipple, a soft suckling sent a fire through her. He shredded her underwear and switched to her right nipple.

Ryder pulled back and found her face; he gave her a sexy half smile and pulled his own shirt off before falling on her again. He laid a barrage of kisses from her earlobe down her neck, between her breasts, down her abdomen, to the crook of her leg and hip, along her inner thigh and back up. Storm moaned in response and he entered her causing her to cry out. Ryder moaned and drove into her, his hands holding her hips in place. She grasped at the edge of the table but couldn't quite reach, her body moving in rhythm with his. Storm glowed golden and she didn't care, all that mattered in her world stood over her, in her. His silver eyes never broke contact with hers. The flutter inside built as Storm panted and moaned. Something was coming, growing with each thrust. The tingling sensation heightened, more and more intense, until it exploded from her core in a tidal wave of emotion and power that lit the entire dining room. Storm swore she was floating. Ryder cried out her name and then fell on her, his body warm and sweaty, smelling of spice and salt and him.

They lay like that, half on the table, half off for what seemed an eternity. Ryder rose and looked on her again; his eyes still that gorgeous silvery color. He smiled. She couldn't help but smile in return. The glow had subsided some but her body still felt electrified.

Ryder broke the silence, "Well, that was eye-opening. Miss Sullivan, you are something more than human."

Storm slid from him and tried to cover herself as much as possible. "What do you mean?" Insecurities abound once more. Not exactly what she wanted to hear after her first sexual encounter. The nerve, an Immortal calling her a freak!

"Storm, you are unlike any female I have ever encountered. I cannot get you off my mind and I can assure you, I have never reacted in this manner to another woman." Ryder ran his hands through his hair, pulled the leather throng out and casually re-tied it. "I apologize for your dress and I will gladly replace it for you." He reached over and plucked his shirt from the floor and in a fluid motion settled it over her head. She pushed her hands through the armholes and inhaled his scent. Her body rippled with excitement and his naked form kept her thrumming. A tinge of sadness washed over her when Ryder pulled his pants back on and re-fastened them.

"Though I am loathe to cover your lovely breasts, I believe your guardians will be arriving soon. I do not believe either would take kindly to our encounter." Ryder scooped her into his arms and carried her up to the second floor, down the dimly lit hallway, to her bedroom. He set her gingerly on the bed and proceeded to rummage her drawers for underclothes.

Storm watched him, the afterglow of their intense lovemaking slowing fading. Then it dawned on her.

"How did you know this was my room?" Her shaking voice betrayed her confusion and fear. He paused, shoulders slumped, and turned to face her. She read sorrow and regret in his expression.

"I have been here before."

"I know, earlier today. I was here too, but we never came up-"

"No, Storm. I have been here many times before." Ryder approached her slowly and sat on the bed. He took her hand in his. "I knew your Aunt Trin. I should have told you sooner. I am very sorry for your loss. Trin was very special and very talented. She deserved more from life."

Realization washed over her. The way he spoke about Aunt Trin. The questions he'd asked. Dammit. Storm jumped off the bed. "Get. Out." A different emotion was rippling under her skin, in her gut, through her limbs. As she raised her hand to point at the door, the glow flared red for a moment and then back to golden. Ryder looked at her helplessly; half-naked and beautiful, silently pleading with her.

"Storm, please, just listen. You are in such danger –"

"Get out of my house. How dare you come here? Get out before I harm you. Get out before I steal your precious immortality. Leave my home, Immortal."

"You can hate me later. I am not leaving until the seraphs return. You are not safe no matter how much power you hold." Ryder walked toward her, his hands held in front, cautiously creeping her way. The power built in her gut. When he came close enough she pushed out with both arms and released everything she felt into him. Ryder flew through the large window to the right of her bed, glass and wood exploded and fell to the ground below. Storm walked to the window and looked down. His body lay contorted on the gravel below. Good. Serves him right.

Dan and Shane pulled into the drive at that moment. She saw the headlights from her blown out window. Dammit, she needed something to wear. Storm threw off his shirt and tossed it in the corner, rummaged the drawers for some undergarments and slipped into them quickly. She heard a car door slam, then another, then two more. Her ears pricked and the hairs on the back of Storm's neck stood at attention. Something felt wrong, very, intensely wrong. She crept to the closet and withdrew a tank top and sweats. There were at least four voices outside, none of them familiar. Dammit. Storm slipped on a pair of sneakers and crept out of her room. The front doors were thrown open. Storm tried to figure out how many men arrived, it was hard to tell by their footsteps.

"Fan out. She couldn't have gotten far judging by the amount of blood down there."

Confused, Storm crept down the hall keeping to the shadows. Pac Man lifted his head as she passed him at the top of the stairs. Dog tags rattled lightly as he dropped his head again but Storm was already in Aunt Trin's room when the intruders acknowledged the sound. She scanned the dark room, her eyes slowly adjusting to the absence of light. She slipped beside the enormous armoire, hidden by the shadows as she sought the whereabouts of Trin's secret room. Dammit!

Ryder

Everything hurt. His shifted slightly. Both legs were broken, his left arm, half the ribs on his left side, probably a dislocated shoulder. And she just stood there, stood in the remnants of her broken window looking down at him with all the rage her body could contain. Storm did not know they were coming. Ryder felt them. Through the pain, through the sorrow, he felt them coming for her and he had to work fast. The van entered the front gate which gave him a little over thirty seconds to get a plan and put it in motion, with a very broken body. Willing his fractured limbs to move, Ryder ignored the bloody mess and awkwardly lurched through the open garage door. His bones were already healing but it hurt like hell. Storm certainly had a lot to learn about his kind. That would have to wait. He needed to save her first. Again. Flipping open his phone, Ryder punched in a quick text to Lucian just in case the seraphs were not on their way yet.

Ryder crept along the vehicles careful to keep out of the shafts of light from the exterior garage lights. His legs ached and the broken ribs made him wheeze. The thugs were not Immortals, he sensed Were on them but they had to be hybrids of some kind. Ryder slipped in the back door and moved into the dining room. He could smell her there, remnants of what they shared, images flashed through his mind. Ryder had to work to suppress his arousal at the thought of her bare breasts. He illusioned a trail of blood from the foyer into the dining room. If he could just draw a few toward him she could probably handle the rest. Except she just exerted a lot of power throwing him out of the window, what if she needed time to regenerate? How long would that take? For all he knew she lay passed out in her room. Where the hell were the seraphs?

The front doors blew open breaking his train of thought. Focus, take out as many as possible. Reinforcements should be arriving in one form or another. Straining to hear the voices entering the foyer, Ryder slid into a position that would allow him to swing with his good arm. He counted six males. His legs ached as they mended and he leaned against a side bar to alleviate some pressure. Lucian might have to re-break them later. Damn.

Ryder inhaled quietly. A searing pain flashed through his side as the flooring outside the dining room creaked. Cocking his good arm, Ryder swung and connected with the first intruder's jaw. The crack echoed through the room as the guy fell but also alerted the second one to Ryder's presence. Little good it did him. Ryder chuckled as the second thug fell over the first allowing Ryder to smash his face with the door. Two down, four to go. Listening for the other hitmen, Ryder sniffed at the two fallen ones, still unable to place their species. Ryder heard movement at the top of the stairs followed by a low snarl. Some, or all, of the group thudded up to the second floor. The thought of stairs with his mangled legs made Ryder cringe. If she made it out of this he may kill her himself.

Tires rolled over the gravel outside. Finally, some back up. Ryder crept to the foyer in time to see Lucian put down one of the Were-hybrids, the fire flaring in his eyes.

"Come out, come out wherever you are. It is not good sport for six men to hunt one little girl." Ryder shook his head. Only Lucian would invite them all to come running. His friend flashed a wide smile as two of the remaining thugs clambered down the stairs. Ryder shoved a side table into the first of the two, grabbed his head by the hair and slammed him against the wall twice. The second leapt over the table toward Ryder, oblivious to Lucian's presence, only to find himself soaring in the other direction courtesy of a strong uppercut. Lucian fell on him and Ryder knew the Were-hybrid would not survive the onslaught.

"There's still one more, Lucian. He's mine." Ryder moved for the stairs.

"No, he is mine." Storm stood at the top of the flight looking down at him, her face completely unreadable. Her hands glowed golden as she dragged the limp figure of the last thug down the stairs. "Do not think this changes things between us, Immortal. But thank you for your assistance." Storm dropped the thug on the floor and stepped toe to toe with Ryder. Her face hard and emotionless, so different from her expression an hour ago. He still wanted to touch her, to brush the stray hair from her face, check her entire body over for signs of harm. More than that, he wanted to destroy these things that sought to hurt her. Rage bubbled within, warring with his passion for her, dampened only slightly by the pain in his body. The idea of something harming this girl did something to him. She changed him somehow.

Lucian let out a low whistle, "I believe the lady can handle herself quite nicely, Ryder. Perhaps we should move out."

"Storm, I mean, Miss Sullivan, are you harmed?" Ryder heard the emotion in his voice and nearly cringed. Lucian would let him have it later.

"What do you care? I am fine. Remove yourself from my house. Leave these men. Dan and Shane will handle them." Storm kicked the one at her feet without breaking his eye contact. Ryder felt the passion flaring between them again. Maybe she was not that angry. Then she slapped him. He should have seen it coming.

Lucian stifled a laugh with a faux cough, "I'll show myself out. Ryder, I brought wheels."

Ryder nodded in response. He wanted her again. Now. The fight brought it out even more intensely. Her hair circled wildly about her head, her eyes flaring with all the emotion her face masked.

"You are impossible." The words slipped out and he immediately wanted to take them back. Her stony expression faltered and then anger flared. She raised a glowing hand to strike again, a blow that he would clearly feel. In one fluid motion, Ryder laced his fingers in hers, bent her arm behind her back at the waist and pulled her in to him. She tried to fight but he held her gaze and slanted his mouth over hers, delivering everything he felt in that one kiss. When Ryder withdrew, Storm looked as dazed as he felt. "I love you. I have waited many lifetimes for you. I am sorry."

Storm

And then he left. Damn him. Truly. Damn him to hell. You don't kiss somebody like that, tell them you love them, and then walk away. He had been with Aunt Trin. How could he be with her aunt and then be with her? She had a million questions and couldn't be sure whether or not she really wanted the answers. Storm sat down in the middle of the foyer, surrounded by the bodies of her six unconscious attackers and cried. Dan and Shane found her just like that, tear-stained face, shirt soaked, hair a complete disaster.

"Babe, what happened here? Where is the Immortal? Storm?" Shane knelt and wrapped his big warm arms around her. Dan rounded up the intruders and handcuffed them together with zip line cuffs. Their arrival sent her into a whole different bout of tears.

Storm calmed slightly when the other officers arrived to take her statement and cart away the would-be attackers. Shane agreed to take the statement himself when she started to cry again. The poor young officer muttered something about shock and let Shane escort her to the kitchen. He made her some tea. She noticed that he acknowledged the bottle of wine and that there were two glasses but said nothing.

"What happened, babe? You have to give us something. Dan and I can doctor it to cover your powers but we have to say something. There are six big guys completed knocked out in your foyer, to say nothing for the busted window in your bedroom." Shane set the mug in front of her and sat in the stool opposite her, the one Ryder had been in earlier.

"Did you know?" The question escaped her lips before she realized what she really wanted to know from Shane.

"Did I know what, babe? That you were in danger? I told you that." She looked up at him, poor Shane, clearly perplexed.

"Did you know about that Immortal, Ryder, and Aunt Trin?" The words tasted sour on her tongue. She wanted to spit his taste out, extract the memories of the dining room from her mind as though they'd never happened. Storm wanted to feel something for Shane, or Dan even. She wanted to love a good man. They were both good men who wanted her. What good were emotions if they just lead you down wrong and painful paths?

"Yes. I did. I sort of figured that he would work harder to keep you safe for her sake. They ended things some time ago. I am not sure why. He went to her grave, Storm. He cared for her."

Storm couldn't hear anymore. She didn't want him to care for Trin. She wanted him to care for her. He probably found her to be some poor sad replacement for her almighty aunt. Dammit. How stupid can one person be?

"Shane?" Storm realized what she had to do, what had to be done to make her alright again. Nobody hunting her, no weird powers, no crazy emotions.

"What, babe? Ready to talk?"

"Sure, but first, I need to know if you and Dan can do something huge for me."

"Anything, you know that."

"I want you to bind my emotions again. You two can't die, right? I mean, seraphs don't really die. If you bind them this will all go away forever and I can just be me again, right?" Storm heard the desperation in her tone and fought the urge to cringe. She stood her ground. It had to work.

"Babe, that's not the way. Even if we could, we wouldn't. It would alter your destiny too greatly. Trin should not have done it." He took a long dreg from his own mug. Shane stared at her, watched her finish the mug of tea in silence. "Storm, babe, what happened here?"

Shane's hand on her arm felt warm and real, she looked into his eyes and smiled. "I fell in love, I think. Then I found out he really loved my aunt so I threw him out a window. He and his friend helped me take down the attackers, I thanked them and kicked them out. Happy? Great. Now leave me alone." She stood and walked out of the kitchen, took the long way around to avoid the dining room, and locked herself in her room.

Dan and Shane took turns at her door, alternating pleas to let them in. She lay in bed, blankets to her chin, and stared at the wall.

Ryder

"Brother, what have you gotten yourself into?" Lucian drove as Ryder tried to readjust his injured arm though he found the realignments difficult to complete correctly in the car. "Would you please let me do that when we get back?"

"I do not know. This is a mess; possibly the biggest shit storm I have ever kicked up." Ryder hung his head, giving up on his arm. Breathing still hurt and his legs were going to require re-breaking too. He'd be laid up for at least a day. Good thing Angeline would be at the manor.

"Ry, what is going on with you and the Seer? And I know those Were-things did not do that to your body. What happened?"

"I believe I love her, Lucian. I mean, I want her. I had her and it was unlike anything I have ever experienced. She glows. I mean that gold thing she did with her hands; imagine her whole body doing that. She is definitely the Emerald." Ryder groaned. He sounded like a prepubescent boy after seeing his first smut.

Lucian did not laugh. "Are you certain she is the Emerald?"

"Yes. I saw it when we kissed. Somehow." Ryder hesitated. "I am right though, Lucian, it is not an all or nothing deal. When we, well, when we were together I could see everything. She completely opened a piece of herself to me and I could see everything she is capable of. I am not sure how to describe it to you." He probably could if he tried but Ryder had no desire to share anymore of Storm than he had to, not even with Lucian.

"Well, then let's hope the Seraphs can protect her until we get you well enough to help. I am pretty certain that will not be the last attempt to take her." Lucian fell silent, his thoughts loud enough for Ryder to pick them up.

"Yes. We need to know who is sending those things or she will never be safe. I still cannot place their species. They were more than just Weres." Ryder recalled their scent but still could not place it. In all his years he never met anything like the hybrids. Not a good sign. The mystery third party had upped the ante and discovered, or possibly created, a new species of supernatural.

"Maybe we should work with the Seraphs?" Lucian pulled into the garage and parked the car. Ryder cast him a warning look and moved awkwardly up the back steps, fighting a groan with each step. Lucian followed him silently to the master suite and shut the door behind them. He flipped through an ESPN magazine while Ryder changed into a pair of boxer briefs for the leg re-breaking. Ryder did not look at his mangled legs, the pain let him know how badly he'd been injured.

Lucian loomed over him, "Before I do this for you, I need to know what happened."

Ryder sighed and closed his eyes, the memory of her face still more painful than any of his physical injuries. "She sent me flying out her bedroom window after realizing I had been with her aunt." Lucian laughed hard, the deep belly laugh that reminded Ryder of their earlier years. Eventually he joined in. It helped with the pain of re-breaking, and the heaviness in his heart. How would he ever make things right with Storm? How could he make her understand?

When the re-breaking and setting was done, Lucian set him with some morphine and left mumbling something about finding Angeline. Ryder fell into a restless sleep, dreams of Storm and Trin plagued him, their faces interchanging in grotesque ways.

Ryder awoke in a cold sweat to Angeline knocking on his door, "My liege, Roane is without requesting to see you. I said you are not well and he refuses to accept that. If you do not present to him in ten minutes he intends to enter your suite. Lucian is trying to pacify him now but he is adamant about speaking with you."

"I will be there in five minutes. Thank you, Angeline. Perhaps you and Rosalee should go shopping for a while." Ryder was not sure what to expect but thought better to have the ladies gone. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and texted Kell and Pollux quickly. His legs felt pretty well, slightly weak but functional. The remnants of morphine still dulled the pain. His arm and ribs were another matter, still quite tender to touch and the arm did not function well. Lucian must have snuck back in to tape his ribs at some point, that was something. Ryder tossed on a thermal shirt to hide the wrapping and pulled on a pair of track pants.

Kell and Pollux must have opted to stay over at the manor after all because they were already in the study with Lucian and Roane when he entered. Tension filled the air in all directions. Everybody was standing, Lucian's fists clenching and unclenching at his sides told Ryder all he needed to know.

"Well, hello, Roane. Welcome to my home. To what do I owe this distinctive pleasure?" Ryder crossed to his desk, settled in the leather executive chair, and propped his feet on the desk. "Kell, how about pouring us all a round of drinks?"

"Sure thing, Ry. Whiskey sound good to everyone?" Kell was met with silence. "Alright then, scotch it is." Pollux followed Ryder's lead and sprawled on the black leather sofa facing the fireplace. Lucian and Roane remained standing, staring each other down with obvious disdain. Ryder hoped his friend's inner flame stayed hidden. It would not do for Roane to see that side of Lucian.

"Roane, Lucian, please, make yourselves comfortable. Let us have a friendly talk." Ryder waited patiently, a jovial grin on his face, as the remaining two Immortals recognized the situation and settled into opposing leather chairs. "Now, what can I do for you today Roane?"

Tearing his eyes from Lucian, Roane adjusted to Ryder's presence, his face slightly reddened from whatever interaction he had with Lucian. "We must speak of the Seer. I hear she suffered an attack last evening. I need to know if you ordered the hit."
Ryder held his gaze and regulated his tone, "No. I helped save her from the onslaught. I came upon her in the alley after dinner yesterday and saved her from a twisted human. Her protectors became otherwise engaged with the human so I accompanied her home in an effort to determine her power. She went up to shower and the attackers entered. They were unusual, a Were-hybrid of some sort. I called Lucian who helped me dispatch them. We returned here and that is all I know. However, I suspect this means that there is another party seeking the girl."

"Indeed. What do you know of the creatures that attacked her? Were-hybrids you say? And who do you believe to be after the Storm Sullivan?" Her name on his tongue drove Ryder mad but he managed to reign in the emotion. Roane held his gaze.

"I was with her long enough to sense a fair amount of power, perhaps somebody else has picked up on it? She has been gone for years, maybe it is a former flame seeking to reclaim her now that Miss Sullivan has come into a bit of wealth. Who knows?" Ryder worked to sound as nonchalant as possible. "I apologize for the lack of immediate answers, Roane, but I am certain I can gather the information we need within a day or two. I have disbanded the team on her detail and will take over the project myself. In the meantime, I am certain she is quite secure. Storm Sullivan is protected by two seraphs and I doubt they will allow her to leave the grounds until this is resolved. It will be much easier to protect her there." Ryder refused to break eye contact with Roane. He worked to keep an air of indifference as Roane weighed the information carefully.

"You have created quite a mess, Ryder. You have forty-eight hours to clean it up and complete your mission with the Sullivans. Should you fail, I have been charged with handling this as I see fit." Roane stood, brushed his pants off, and adjusted his shirt. "I will leave you to it. Oh, and I will see myself out."

Ryder nodded in agreement. Once Roane turned toward the door, Ryder exchanged a significant glance with Pollux who chimed in casually, "Actually, Kell and I were just leaving, we are looking at a rental property on the east side in an hour. Later Lucian, Ryder."

Kell nodded and waved as they followed Roane out. Ryder stood and walked to where Lucian sat. He tapped his friend on the shoulder and gestured for them to vacate the study as well. Lucian followed silently down the hall, through a secret passage, into Ryder's training room.

"I am going to have the study debugged. We are safe to speak here though. What happened with Roane?"

"Brother, I loathe that man. He has it in for you. What did you do to piss him off?" The fire flashed behind Lucian's eyes briefly but receded.

"I wish I knew. There has always been animosity between him and me. I just thought he felt that way about everyone." Ryder shrugged, well half shrugged as his arm still did not seem to be functioning normally yet. "I am more worried Storm right now. I have two days to heal myself, figure out who else is hunting her and why they want her."

"Brother, have you ever considered that Roane sent those men?" Lucian leaned against the weapons table and casually folded his arms across his chest. "If he hates you so intensely it would make sense for him to discredit you. Roane could press for your exile if he is aware you were intimate with Trin Sullivan."

"It has occurred to me, yes. But this is not his style. Those creatures were bred. If Roane had created Were-hybrids the Immortals would have known." Lucian looked skeptical. "Think about it Lucian, he would need money, resources, and Were infants to carry this out. At the very least, the monks would have noted his absence and you know they are true to the brethren as a collective more so than any individual among us."

"That's true, brother. So Roane did not do this. Who does that leave? Some other supernatural group who managed to piece together that Storm Sullivan is the Emerald?"

Ryder realized he was pacing again. Lucian just watched him, half a smirk on his face. "You are really keyed up over this girl. What is the deal?"

Ryder leaned against a dummy. "I really do not know. I do not understand it. I am drawn to her. When we touch it is charged, like the air around us surges with power. That is not quite right either."

"Was it ever like that with Jasmine?" Lucian always softened when he mentioned Jasmine. It had been a tender subject for so long that Ryder imagined it had become a programmed response.

"No. No it was not." Ryder sighed. "I think I am going to regret this, but I believe you had the right idea when you mentioned working with the seraphs. They have known her since childhood and may have some idea as to who is behind this. Think you would accompany me? Storm may be less likely to kick me out with you present."

Lucian found that amusing. In fact, he laughed all the way to Willow Wood.

Storm

Fluttering wings? Storm stood on a beach, the ocean waters lapping at her feet, sun warming her skin, and all she could hear were fluttering wings. She didn't see any birds. The fluttering seemed louder than a fly but she swatted at the air around her ears anyway. Then the ocean receded. The sun disappeared behind a massive storm cloud. Aunt Trin stood beside her.

"This is a dream."

"Yes." Aunt Trin's voice seemed to echo across the beach.

"You are still dead?"

"Yes. But I am still with you." Her voice became clearer. She turned to face Storm and smiled that familiar smile. "You are so beautiful, Storm. Your powers are coming along well. I held them off as long as I could."

"Who, Aunt Trin? Who did you hold off?" Storm knew she needed this information but the fluttering grew louder and her aunt started to fade.

"Wake up, Storm."

"No, Aunt Trin, don't leave yet, you have to tell me. Who?"

"Storm? Storm, wake up, babe."

Shane came into focus. His wings flapped gently behind him. Storm blinked several times.

"Storm, honey, wake up." Dan's voice echoed through her head and she opened her eyes fully. Shane knelt beside her bed and Dan stood behind him, both with their wings out.

"Sorry, babe, but you had the door magically sealed somehow so we had to enter through the window. I will patch that up, at least magically for now, but right now I would love to know how you held that seal in such a deep slumber. We have been trying to wake you for half an hour." Shane stroked her arm gently, his warmth soothing.

"I saw Aunt Trin. She tried to warn me. You guys woke me too soon."

"Storm, you have been asleep for well over twelve hours. We were worried. Plus, you have some serious explaining to do." Dan nodded toward the window and frowned down at her.

"I know. I get it. A lot happened last night but I don't understand all of it. I found Aunt Trin's secret room and I intend to go through it later today, but first, I want to go through my studio." Storm hopped out of bed, right past the brothers and walked to her bedroom door. She wasn't sure how the spell over the door worked, didn't really remember casting it, but smiled when she touched the knob and it opened.

Across the hall in her studio, Storm flicked on the overhead lights, curious as to why it seemed so dark. The wall of windows that looked out over the orchard usually provided excellent light at this time of day. Paintings and photos still covered the easels and every available wall space. The picture windows were all covered with blackout curtains, a new addition since she'd left. Sculptures and all of her old media still covered the shelving units. Everything should have been covered with dust after this long, the paints all dried up. Instead, it appeared that everything had been meticulously cared for in her absence - fresh tubes of paint, unopened packages of charcoals and pastels, brand new brushes and even some blank canvases in various sizes. Storm sighed. A tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek. Aunt Trin knew she'd return.

Storm walked from easel to easel, running her fingers along each piece. Something else was different, some of the pictures were older and she noticed that some of the easels had been shifted. Storm could not find rhyme or reason to the changes and in the end chalked them up to whatever cleaning had been done. Trin wanted her to see the studio and know she'd been missed, that had to be it.

"Did you find anything, Storm?" Dan and Shane appeared in the doorway, wings tucked away.

"Just a reminder that Aunt Trin loved me and knew I would be back." Storm smiled. "Come on, I found the hidden room. It is absolutely amazing."

"Babe, we'd love to, but we have company."

"What?" Storm went to full alert, "Now who?"

"Babe, calm down. They are here to speak with us. Why don't you go on to her room and we will handle the Immortals." The guys turned to walk away.

Storm seethed, "Do not let them in my house. I told Ryder he is never to enter my home again." Rage rose in her stomach again, her fingertips warming in response. She knew without looking that her appendages were glowing golden.

"Calm down. Please, relax. They have information that could keep you safe and they have pledged to protect you. Storm, you apparently have a lot of enemies so you need as many allies as you can get." Dan walked slowly toward her, always logical one.

"I do not want him in my house. I loathe him." Storm put on her best pout; it had worked dozens of times in the past with them.

"Nope, sorry, no pouts today. You were attacked last night, if not for that man down there who knows what would have happened. Whether you like it or not, you owe him, babe." Dammit, Shane always took her side. If he was on the Immortal's side she had no hope of winning this one. "Besides, methinks you do not loathe him as much as you claim."

Dan's eyes widened with understanding, "Hell, I want to shake the hand of the man who can make our Storm turn eight shades of red."

"You are both incorrigible. Do what you like, I simply loathe the man. I will be in Aunt Trin's room. He has fifteen minutes to give you the goods and remove himself from my home." Storm turned on her heel and headed for her aunt's room. She could hear the guys conferring over whether or not the Immortal had tamed the beast. Storm slipped into the boudoir and slammed the door before she could hear them refer to her loss of virginal status in yet another off color analogy. She leaned against the door and exhaled. A fizzle of golden energy welled in her fingertips but she shook it off. Seemed she was mastering her new skills fairly well, other than sending Ryder through her bedroom window. He deserved it though.

Storm surveyed her aunt's room. The furniture, a fabulous mish mash of antique pieces including a turn of the century four poster bed, had all been refurbished by her aunt. Antique lace curtains billowed lightly in the cool breeze from the windows. Storm could smell Aunt Trin's perfume, her own special blend, and inhaled deeply – a combination of florals with amber undertones. Making her way around the armoire, Storm slipped inside the walk in closet. Aunt Trin loved clothes and shoes. A massive organizational unit had been installed at some point but the sheer mass of clothing and footwear overtook every inch except for a narrow pathway down the middle. Past the heavy winter coats and shelves of hat boxes Storm located the small switch she'd found the day before while hiding. Flipping it up caused the wall of hat boxes to swing outward just enough for a person to slide through.

The room was modern and twice the size of the closet. Storm figured her aunt must have had the upgrades done recently though the room had to have been built with the original second floor. Monitors lined the far wall and showed various points in the house. A control panel sat before it with knobs to control volume and clarity as well as adjust the camera angles. This seemed intense; Aunt Trin had clearly grown paranoid over the last ten years. Storm sighed; guilt flared briefly but subsided with the memory of why she'd left. The side walls were laden with books, volumes Storm had never seen, and scrolls, some so old they were disintegrating at the edges. Storm turned back to face the door. A tall mirror leaned against the wall beside the portal. The ornamental frame reminded Storm of a Renaissance piece. To the left sat a small apothecary chest with neatly labeled drawers – all in Aunt Trin's hand. Several cloaks hung from decorated hooks to the right of the mirror, a lovely emerald velvet one stood out against the rest. Storm moved to touch it but stopped as a familiar voice registered in her head. Dammit.

Whirling around, she scanned the monitors. Sure enough, Ryder and his friend sat in her study opposite Dan and Shane. Storm crossed the room and settled in the leather executive chair before the control panel. She turned up the volume for the study in time to hear Shane respond to whatever Ryder had asked.

Ryder

"She's alright, shaken up a bit, I think. Physically unharmed though." The seraph shrugged. He did not seem to be giving the whole story. Ryder nodded tightly. He knew the seraphs felt for her as well, likely the source of tension in the room. They must know what occurred in the dining room the day before.

The other seraph spoke up, Ryder turned to face him, "What we really want to know is what you did to piss her off." Ah. There it was.

"I handled some things poorly. I met the wrong woman first. Though, I believe I may have been misled somewhat." Ryder made a point of speaking clearly and turned slightly to face one of Trin's cameras. He really hoped Storm had found the room and decided to take a chance. "Are we laying all cards on the table now? For Storm's sake?"

Lucian shifted at his side. He did not fully approve of this part of the plan but Ryder could not see another. It had after all been Lucian's idea to team up with the seraphs in the first place. He simply elaborated on the plan to allow a possibility for reconciling with Storm.

"Agreed." The seraph, Dan, spoke for the pair. Ryder liked Shane better, more laissez faire in his approach to life and likely easier to win over on the matter at hand.

"Lucian and I have no intention of harming Storm. We are unsure of the intentions of the rest of our Brethren but they cannot make a move until I openly fail in an attempt. I have been given forty-eight hours to resolve the issue. I have two other Immortals in the vicinity who will join us if we call on them. We have been unable to figure out who sent the Were-hybrids after her yesterday. We have something that may help however." Ryder nodded to Lucian who smiled knowingly and disappeared into the hall. Taking advantage of the slight break, Ryder addressed the seraphs on a separate issue, hoping that Storm was watching. "I did not murder Trin Sullivan. Please tell Storm. I had no part in it."

Judging by their expressions, he'd managed to convince the seraphs. That's something at least. Lucian walked in with a half-clothed body over his shoulder. Ryder moved the desk chair around to the center of the study and Lucian deposited the body in it. He removed the sack from the body's head to reveal his late familiar, Keene.

"I believe you both are acquainted with my former familiar? He has been a very naughty boy." Ryder punched him in the gut with some degree of satisfaction. It took a good deal of self-control to refrain from snapping the familiar's neck. Keene whimpered into the gag, a bit of climbing rope that matched the pieces around his hands and feet. "He went rogue, was captured about a week ago, supposedly took his own life yesterday and should be lying dead in my lab. Imagine our surprise when we found him creeping about my garage. Rather strange activity for a dead man, is it not?" Lucian chuckled at his side, he'd found the entire situation amusing of course. "Given his suicide and apparent reincarnation, I am certain he knows about Trin's murder and the attack on Storm. Lucian had to convince me not to torture my little friend, if you can imagine that."

The seraphs nodded appreciatively. Lucian smacked Keene upside the head and then made is way to the liquor cabinet. "Think Miss Sullivan will mind if I have a drink, fellas?" He did not wait for a response. Ryder bent over to meet Keene's eye, he really did look worse for the wear. Wonder how he pulled off the fake suicide. Eh, he'd work that out later.

"I am going to take away your gag. Those two men over there, they are seraphs. You cannot lie to them. As much as I would love to watch you squirm in agony, I would suggest you answer truthfully. They can cause spectacular pain when necessary, and then there is always Lucian. He does so like to fight. You have heard of him?" Keene nodded in understanding, grudgingly it would seem. It would have to do. Ryder removed the gag but not gently. Keene gasped for air and cast Ryder a murderous look.

"You will get yours, Immortal. There are more powerful beings than you in this world."

"Oh, you mean those Were-hybrids that I took out with broken legs, a dislocated shoulder, and several broken ribs?" Ryder smirked, daring a rebuttal, but Keene managed to hold his face in a mask of contempt. Almost impressive. He nodded toward Dan and Shane, "Alright, seraphs do your thing."

Poised to enjoy this, Ryder settled casually on the sofa crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. Lucian joined him, a drink in each hand. He planted one in Ryder's hand and clinked the glasses together. "Cheers, brother."

"Keene, did you aide in the murder of Trin Sullivan." Dan, the more grounded of the two, started the interrogation.

"Yes. I gladly helped bring about her demise."

"Why?" The other seraph chimed in. Ryder kept his eyes focused on Keene.

"She prevented the Emerald from claiming her true power." Keene went stiff and grimaced, Ryder knew it had been a half truth and wondered which one delivered the pain.

"Why did you really help?" This could get interesting. Ryder watched as Keene's face contorted in pain for several minutes before he whimpered and begged for release. His body went limp and he panted a bit before answering, Keene's voice trembling through every word. Aw, he might cry. Ryder found it almost satisfactory.

"She would not look at me. I kept the garden, maintained the orchard, ran her errands but she didn't look at me like she looked at him. And he didn't even love her. She knew it. She knew he loved the girl even before he saw her. She told me so. But he can't have her, he'll never have the Emerald." Keene spit at Ryder but one of the seraphs sent it back at him with a flick of the wrist. The spittle covered his cheek and ran down his chin.

"That is not polite. I would not spit again." Ryder noticed that Dan's eyes were flashing colors rapidly, the only visible sign of the seraph's rage.

"So you loved Trin Sullivan and were put out that she slept with the Immortal. Is that what you are saying? That is pathetic, man. Really." Shane clearly wanted to diffuse his brother and took over the role of lie detector. "Who did you work with? We need a name, preferably a location as well."

Keene looked to Shane; a demented smile crept across his face. "Seraph, you can't hurt me enough to reveal that."

"Oh, I would not be too sure about that. Have you ever seen our kind at work? You know that whole wrath of God thing? That is what I will deliver onto you in every possible way."

"I will readily die to protect my master." Keene jutted his chin out and sealed his lips in defiance.

"That is where you are mistaken. You will not die. I can suspend your death and torture you for all eternity if I so choose. You will endure hell on Earth. In fact, I may have a necromancer summon Trin Sullivan to watch over you for eternity." Shane had stood, a fire whip materialized in his hand and his wings threatened to break free. "What do you think, Dan? Think we could summon Trin?"

"I believe we can. Immortal, do you have a vault to store this creature in for eternity?"

Ryder nodded, "I am certain I have a few places we could stow him. In fact, there is a small private island with an excellent system of caves that would be perfect." Keene would certainly know which island he referenced, San Calina, a sacred place that would only amplify the seraphs' punishment, and completely impenetrable unless you knew its secrets. Doubt and fear warred on Keene's face, finally guilt took over and tears welled in his eyes.

"Wait, no, please. I don't want Trin to know. I didn't want to her die. I really didn't. She wasn't supposed to die. They lied to me." Tears flowed freely from Keene's eyes as he blubbered like a scolded child. Remorse and grief overtook his defiance. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry. He wants the Emerald. He says that she needs to come into her powers and then be broken. He is going to use her to rule the supernatural world."

Shane sat back down, the seraphs faces contorted to masks of misery. Ryder missed something in the interaction. They must know who Keene referred to.

"Who?" Lucian took the words out of his mouth. Ryder caught the impatience in his friend's voice. The fire flickered briefly in Lucian's eyes; he needed an outlet again and soon.

"Her father." Shane looked up at Ryder, his face full of sorrow. "Storm's father is doing this."

Storm

Storm stood, hand to her throat, reeling from the series of revelations she just witnessed. Memories came flooding back completely unbidden, bad memories that she'd suppressed for most of her life. The day her father left had been one of the worst days of her life. He'd fought with Aunt Trin after slapping her mother into unconsciousness. The fear and confusion settled in her chest like a familiar friend. She'd still had her emotions then; just before her birthday. Tears had fallen freely, soaking her Rainbow Brite t-shirt as she hid in the hallway, listening with her hand to the wall so she could 'see' what was happening.

They were arguing about some jewelry and Storm could not figure out what was so important about an emerald. Her father swore it would change the world and her mother and aunt were worried that it would be abused. Father had stormed out of the room and toward the front door. She ran from her hiding place and called to him. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her forehead gently, "I have to leave wee one. I cannot stay here."

"No, Daddy! It is just a fight, you can kiss and make up."

"Not this time. You can come with me if you want." He looked hopeful somehow and picked her up.

"I will destroy you if you try to remove her from this house." Aunt Trin had emerged from the study, her face raging with fury. "You have not yet felt my full wrath, McCallum. I would say your farewells and leave - alone."

Storm had started to cry. She yelled at Aunt Trin. Her mother walked out of the study, dazed. A thin line of blood dribbled from the gash on her temple. Storm wriggled loose from her father and ran to her mother. "Mama, don't let him go."

Aunt Trin had looked down on her, sorrow momentarily replacing the fury, "Darling, you have to let him go. Someday you will understand that we did this for you."

Mother sobbed and clung to Storm as she watched her father leave through the front door. Returning to the present, Storm realized the gravity of that one memory. The pieces seem to click into place. Her father wanted her, but not as a father should want his child. No, her father wanted to use her, manipulate her. They had argued over her, the Emerald.

"Storm?"

At the sound of her name, Storm spun around. Aunt Trin's reflection had appeared in the mirror, smiling at her just as she had so many times in life.

"You are so lovely. I am so sorry, luv. I never wanted you to find out this way."

"Aunt Trin?" No way. Not possible. Sudden emotional trauma could trigger hallucinations, right?

"Remember the vial? You bound my spirit to this mirror. I set this in motion when I figured out your father's intentions. I could not leave you alone. I so wanted to tell you everything before but I miscalculated slightly. I didn't factor the gardener in." Aunt Trin shifted in the glass. "Do you suppose you could give me a hand out of here, luv?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Yep, definitely imagining this. Maybe she had fallen asleep. This could easily be a dream. Storm could smell Aunt Trin's perfume just as she had before. She closed her eyes and pinched herself.

"Still here, luv. Just walk up to the glass and take my hand. Honestly, Storm, in all your reading and travels you had to have stumbled across a Soul Mirror." Okay, that was definitely Aunt Trin talking. She vaguely remembered hearing about Soul Mirrors in Singapore but it seemed a lifetime ago. Standing before the mirror, Storm reached out and placed a hand to the glass. It felt like a liquid and she managed to press through it. Storm clasped her aunt's wrist and began to pull. It took little effort in the end and Storm soon found herself wrapped in familiar arms.

Aunt Trin withdrew from the embrace and took her in, head to toe. "You are no longer a virgin."

"Um, huh? No, I mean, well." Storm heard herself stammering like a little girl all over again. How did her aunt manage to do that? Awkward.

"This is a good thing, luv. Your father will not have accounted for that. You must keep this to yourself for now."

Storm looked at her feet. "Some people already know, Aunt Trin."

"Who? Who knows? Surely you didn't tell anyone that you slept with Ryder?"

Storm opened her mouth to answer and then looked at her aunt harder, "How did you know it was Ryder?"

"Silly girl, I saw it. I have been working to protect you all these years. He loves you. I only went to him to set him on the right track, luv. He is charged with ending our line, has been wiping out Sullivan Seers for centuries to prevent the Emerald from coming into her power. I had to change his mind. It didn't take much." Aunt Trin walked over to the monitors, "He saw one picture of you and his whole face changed. When he smelled you, saw your studio, heard your plight, well, Ryder is still a man above all else. I didn't love him Storm; it really amounted to less than nothing. I never slept with him. He only thinks we slept together. I had to do something to keep him engaged long enough to hear truth. There is so much to tell you and I haven't enough time." Aunt Trin held up a hand which had visibly faded in the short time since she'd walked out of the mirror.

"Aunt Trin, am I really the Emerald?"

"Yes, luv. You are. Daughter of a Sullivan Seer and the Anomaly, you are a product of a powerful line and one who should never have been born. Your father is the son of an Immortal. I assure you that your mother had no idea, none of us did. He is cunning and powerful." Aunt Trin walked to the bookshelf at her right and pointed at a small leather bound book. "Take that and read it. The rest of your answers are in those pages. Trust Dan and Shane, they have always been on your side. Lucian is honorable but he harbors a volatile fire within. He is fully devoted to Ryder and therefore will remain devoted to you if you should choose to walk that path. Ryder will ask something of you but know there is another way. I have to go now, luv. Until we meet again." Aunt Trin faded away but her perfume still hung in the air, a comforting reminder that she'd just been there.

Storm looked to the mirror but did not see Aunt Trin. Touching the glass lightly she found it had gone solid again, just a regular mirror. She'd have to research Soul Mirrors and figure out how it worked. For now she took the journal and slipped out of the room, sealing it with a quick flick of the switch. She cast a quick sealing spell just to be safe. Storm sprinted down the stairs and flew into the study, completely unprepared for what she found. She should have checked the monitors first.

Ryder

Ryder felt Storm's presence before he saw her. He did not break eye contact with their new visitor. She stopped in the doorway and tried to back pedal but not before He noticed her presence as well.

"Ah, just the person I came to see. It appears these gentlemen were under the impression you had stepped out."

Storm quickly suppressed her shock and responded in a surprisingly flat tone, "Hello, father. What brings you to Willow Wood after all these years?" Well done. Ryder counted himself impressed. He chanced a side long glance at the seraphs whose wings were unfurling slowly. Hell.

"Until your dear aunt passed on I seemed unable to cross onto the property. Strange things, protection enchantments, they don't last once the conjurer is deceased." So far, Storm's father had not moved from his spot behind Keene, the now deceased traitor. His death came too easily for Ryder's liking, but none of them had reacted quickly enough to stop it. Storm's father arrived with a pop, directly behind Keene, and snapped his neck in one quick motion. Ryder had never seen anything like it and thought only Immortals capable of materializing in such a manner. Still, this man could not be an Immortal. Aside from having fathered Storm, his hair seemed to be graying and crow's feet were evident around his eyes. The man dressed well, a fitted black turtleneck beneath a gray blazer and paired with stylishly cut black slacks.

He turned to face Ryder and the others suddenly as if he'd forgotten something. "Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself; I am Storm's father, Jasper Whitforth, or if you prefer, Storm would remember me as Colin MacCallum." He made no effort to shake hands in greeting. Something seemed familiar about him; Ryder could not put a finger on it. Lucian stepped toward Ryder and made eye contact, the inner flame flickering angrily for an instant. He shrugged – what kind of supernatural could this guy be?

"Storm, darling, have a seat. We can have a civilized chat and I am certain we'll come to some sort of terms." Jasper kicked Keene's body out of the chair and sat down himself. The seraphs tucked their wings back in and grudgingly resumed their positions on the couch, leaving room in the middle for Storm. She still stood in the doorway when Lucian and Ryder assumed their former seats.

"Storm, don't be obstinate, take a seat." Jasper's cool collection broke for a moment. He realized the mistake and altered his tactic, "Please darling, I have missed you so. Come sit with us."

"No. I don't believe I will. I think you should leave, Father." Not good. Fury flashed over Jasper's face but he managed to suppress it again. This time her turned to face Storm, lowered his voice to an even tone and spoke through gritted teeth.

"Sit down, please."

"I am not five. I am not a child. I am not weak. Get out of my house the way you came and I will see to it that no harm comes to you in the immediate future. Should you choose to send your minions after me again I will consider it an affront and will personally hunt you down and end you."

Impressive. He could not be sure she had it in her to follow through with the threat but Ryder could tell she believed it. Jasper laughed. A deep, chilling laugh that reminded him vaguely of the Vincent Price cackle on the Thriller album. He noticed Storm's fingertips glowing. The longer her father laughed, the further the glow spread. Jasper didn't even notice his daughter lighting up like the sun. The glow enveloped Storm before her father took notice. Her emerald eyes danced with amusement and fury.

"Storm, I didn't remember you being so entertaining. I –" Her appearance finally registered and Ryder noted the fear in his eyes just before Jasper Whitforth vanished into thin air.

They turned to face Storm in unison. The glow evaporated slowly and there she stood, smiling and relaxed. She started to walk toward him, he stood and moved in response, like two magnets. Could she have forgiven him? Just as Storm reached out to him, an invisible force grabbed at her waist, shock flushed her face and she threw something at him before vanishing. Ryder caught it in his good hand as he realized what happened. He had her. Jasper took her with all four of them standing right there. Ryder fell to the floor, his wounded legs groaning in protest. Raising his eyes to the ceiling he screamed out for her.

Storm

Storm reached out to Ryder but couldn't touch him. He seemed to be screaming for her but no sound penetrated her ears. Had she gone deaf?

"You are on another plane. He cannot see you. It is so endearing to see the Immortal so smitten with you. Pity you will be his undoing."

She spun around to find her father staring at her, smugness etched across his face.

"What did you do?"

"Just a little parlor trick. I shifted planes just slightly." Her father, Jasper, she should call him Jasper, looked bored. "Are we done here? I have plans for you and we cannot linger, daughter."

"I am not your daughter." Storm jutted her chin out and folded her arms across her chest, "I am staying here, with them."

"I thought you said you were no longer a child? Stop behaving like one. You will go with me or I will kill the seraphs." Jasper withdrew a dagger from inside his blazer. Ivory-handled with a blood red blade. Dammit. Storm remembered that blade from her studies. She even saw one at a black magic market in Bangladesh once.

"No! You will not harm them." She tried to call on her power but it would not respond.

Jasper laughed again, that eerie, awful cackle. "I manipulate this plane, you cannot call on your power here, daughter. So, you see, come with me willingly or I take you after I sever their wings." He made to walk toward Dan and Shane whose wings had unfurled when she vanished. Dammit.

"Alright. I will go."

"I thought you might see it my way. I have a van parked at the end of the drive."

They walked in silence. Storm had many questions but didn't really want the answers from him. Pac Man bounded out the door behind them, sniffing at the ground. She pretended not to see him.

"So, where have you been all this time? I mean, where did you go after you left?"

"Oh, here and there. Do you really wish to know?" Jasper looked at her, somewhat surprised, maybe even suspicious.

"Well, since I am stuck with you, I might as well find out what you have been doing since you abandoned me." Storm knew Pac Man had her scent, the vision of him saving her kept flashing through her head, though the setting didn't fit. Regardless, she hoped he could help and visions were not always accurate.

"Very well. After your aunt and mother drove me out, I traveled extensively seeking a way to free you. I knew that once I left your aunt would bind your emotions and in turn, your powers. I did not wish that for you so I sought a way to unlock it. Then you took off and I followed you for a while but I did not have a way to break the binding spell. Why did you take off? You were perfectly safe here." Jasper seemed genuinely perplexed though Storm wished for the seraphs' lie detection talents.

"I had a vision of my own death." The words were out before she realized it. They just slipped off her tongue. The first person she'd ever confessed it to and he was kidnapping her. Dammit.

Jasper stopped beside her but thought better of it apparently and began walking again. His mouth open and closed a time or two before he finally spoke, gently like he did when she was a girl, "Are you certain you died?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Perhaps you didn't really die, could you have been comatose or having an out of body?"

"No, I don't think so." This line of questioning seemed unusual, even for Jasper. Storm felt the hair on her neck rising again. She remembered Trin's words.

Jasper exhaled and smiled. "Everything will work out, daughter, you will see. How old were you in the vision?"

Lie. The word formed in her head as clear as if it has been spoken to her. "I am not sure, forty maybe?"

His face fell. Tension rose from him in palpable waves. "Impossible." He paused briefly as if realizing his error, "I mean, you will not die so young. It is not possible."

They'd managed to get halfway down the drive without Jasper noticing Pac Man trailing them. When he grew angry Storm managed to push a small hole in the fabric of the enchantment. Pac Man noticed, recognized her and bolted back toward the house.

"Maybe fifty? My hair had grayed a bit. I cannot be sure." She watched his fists clench and unclench, ripples appeared in the magic. They were not in another plane; he had not lied about the parlor trick though. Storm just couldn't figure out how he'd managed to block her power. That would have to wait.

Jasper started muttering to himself, clearly growing more agitated. Ripples in his magic grew larger. He paid her less attention. Just a little angrier and she'd be able to push right through his illusion without much difficulty.

"I was seventeen when I had it so I couldn't be sure. After that, I started writing everything down but I haven't had that vision again. So, maybe you are right, perhaps I was simply having an out of body." Storm kept her voice even, the lying seemed to come easier with each one she spun for him, "I don't intend to go anywhere anytime soon. Especially now that I have taken a lover." Storm let her sentence trail off and sink in.

Jasper whipped his head around and looked at her, his eyes narrowed into slits. "What did you say?"

"I might not have been dead?" Storm feigned ignorance and watched the illusion dissipate a little further. Pac Man had returned, a mere ten yards away. He trotted closer but she waved a hand to stay his progress without breaking eye contact with Jasper.

"Not that part. You have taken a lover?" His voice went into a higher pitch as he said the word 'lover.'

"Yes, of course. I am an adult, you didn't think I would still be a virgin after all this time, did you? Don't worry about the talk, Aunt Trin had that with me a long time ago. Don't worry about grandkids right now either, I have been on the pill for years." She looked up at the sky and changed to a more passive tone, "Not that grandkids could count on you to stay around, I mean you weren't the fatherly type so how could we expect you to be a grandfather." Yep, that did it. Storm had to struggle to suppress her smile as the last bit of magic evaporated from around them.

"What have you done?" Jasper seethed. His face turned red and purple, his eyes became black discs. "You were to remain a virgin. With no emotions you could not possibly have developed a connection to anyone and then the other curse had to be broken." Jasper calmed, "Nice try, daughter. You lie. I know cannot feel anything for men. I cursed you myself, you cannot see a man as sexual, I don't even believe you can be aroused." That explained a lot, the Hardy Boys thing to start. That didn't explain the dining room with Ryder. Perhaps it was an Immortal thing? She didn't feel anything for the other Immortal. Hm, another puzzle for later.

"Funny story, when you decided to murder Aunt Trin, her binding spells shattered. I am no longer a virgin, Daddy. Is that a problem for you? Are you disappointed that I am no longer Daddy's little girl?" Storm felt her own rage rising inside, though she kept it out of her fingertips for the moment, "I never was a Daddy's girl though, you never looked on me as your daughter, did you? I don't think I will be accompanying you at this time, Daddy." She took great joy in enunciating the last syllable as she raised all of her power and blasted Jasper a good fifty yards out the front gate. The gate broke in the process but it mattered little, she would not be relying on the wrought iron structure for protection anymore. Jasper would return and she would be prepared.

Ryder

Ryder heard the gate break before he saw it in the dim light. The sound echoed through the night. They had followed the dog out the front doors but did not see anything until Storm's glowing form materialized about halfway down the drive. The glow faded and she dropped her arms, turning to face them. She looked so tired. Ryder strode down the drive, ignoring his protesting limbs, and caught her with his good arm as she fell unconscious. Ignoring the screaming pain in his bad shoulder, Ryder lifted her and headed for the house.

"Take Storm to her room." Dan stood at his elbow, "She has a natural protection there when she sleeps. I don't know how it works but it kept us out until we flew in through the window. We can take turns standing guard with her, inside and out. If we couldn't get in then I doubt Jasper will."

"I will stay with her in her room. Lucian can call Kell and Pollux to help guard the perimeter. We do not know what he is capable of." Ryder nodded to Lucian who already had his phone out. The seraphs did not argue. He almost lost her, no way would he let her out of his sight again. She smelled amazing. Having her so close sent his body into overdrive, he could hardly control the urge to sniff her hair.

The path to Storm's room should have been painful, but holding her, feeling her warmth, and breathing in her scent seemed to drown out the ache. Ryder laid her gently on the bed and brushed the hair from her face. She appeared unharmed, probably just drained from expending so much energy at once. Ryder covered her up and settled at the foot of the bed, watching the world out the hole he left in the window not so long ago. He watched her sleep all night, too concerned for her to sleep himself. Years with Lucian as a tracker and enforcer had prepared him for this.

Storm stirred and sat up, her eyes wild and exhausted. Then she recognized him and smiled. She actually smiled at him. "Hi." Her voice came out sleepy, soft and seductive all at once.

"Miss Sullivan, I am happy to see you back with us."

Storm's face fell slightly, replaced quickly with her usual haughty expression. "What are you doing in my room?" She made a show of pulling the blankets up to her chin. "Where are Dan and Shane? Hell, I would even prefer your friend, what's his name again?"

Ryder stood from the bed, confused by her sudden change in demeanor. "Storm, I –"

"Save it. Where is the book I threw to you?"

Ryder feigned deep thought but realized by her facial expression that it was not helping his cause. He pulled it from the back of his jeans and handed it to her, "Right here, Storm. It is safe. What's so important?"

She actually rolled her eyes at him. "It only holds everything we need to know to get out of this mess. Honestly, how have you made it through so many centuries?" Storm threw the blanket off and swung her feet to the floor.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to my study to read my book and figure a way out of this that doesn't involve my untimely death." Storm stood and walked to her bedroom door before Ryder could register what she said and react.

"What did you just say?" He slammed the door shut as she attempted to open it. "Stop. What is going on, Storm? We are all here to help you but if you know something you need to tell us." Ryder lowered his voice. Gods, he wanted to kiss her, to splay her out on the bed and – "Storm, please. What is happening?"

The look she turned on him was one of pure frustration. Through gritted teeth Storm answered in the most condescending voice he'd ever heard from a woman's mouth, "I can't tell you until I read the book and even then I am not sure you need to know."

Ryder released his hold on the door and stepped back. He heard the seraphs snickering in the window, the flapping of their wings the only other sound. "Wait, something is wrong." He turned to Dan and Shane who flew in to flank her, fire whips appearing in their hands.

"Have they returned?" Dan looked to Storm, "You may want to read it here."

"If it is them, they're faster than I gave 'em credit for." Shane smirked, "I am so going to enjoy this fight."

Ryder did not think so; it could not be Jasper already, no possible way he could regroup that quickly. His phone vibrated to indicate an incoming text.

Roane is here. He says he needs to speak to the Seer. Should we bring him?

Ryder addressed the seraphs, "It is not Jasper. Another Immortal is at the gates requesting to speak with Storm. Lucian has him." He realized his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth. Storm glared at him, her emerald eyes flaring and suddenly rimmed in gold. He reworded the statement and looked directly into her eyes, the gold rim receding slightly as he addressed her. "Storm, he wants to speak with you. Will you receive him?"

"That's better. You all need to stop acting as if I am a fragile child. I know more than you do about what is happening so get over yourselves." She paused and blew a hair out of her eyes. How he loved that, soft and sweet and so unbelievably sexy as she focused on blowing that one stray hair up and back. Ryder shifted his weight, now would not be a good time to go there. Storm looked up at him, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Tell Lucian that I will meet with the Immortal in my study."

"Babe, I do not think –" She placed a hand gently on Shane's lips to silence him. Ryder felt jealousy flare inside him, if only she would touch his lips like that, he would pepper them with baby kisses and – stop.

"Guys, I know what I am doing. Believe me." She finally turned to face Ryder again, without malice on her face, "What do I need to know about this particular Immortal?"

"Roane has an odd way of speaking. Most find it unsettling. I do not trust him. He has kept to himself in a monastery for the past four centuries or so. Roane does not have a friend among the Brethren though he has a seat upon our council." Ryder wanted to say more, wanted to tell her of his mission, tell her how he felt and how badly he wanted to take her to bed and make love to her in every way he could think of. He did not. He could not. "Miss Sullivan, I believe we should all accompany you for this meeting."

Storm looked at him with utter indifference, "Very well. I think we should lay protections on the study for all of us. We can't have my father popping in again."

Ryder found this take charge side of her to be even more appealing. His jeans were feeling rather snug at the moment and focusing on the situation at hand became increasingly difficult. How did she affect him so thoroughly? Storm sent Dan and Shane to gather some herbs and roots and he caught something about gathering red wine from the kitchen. Right, he needed to get the wine and meet her in the study. Ryder willed his feet to move, to leave the erotic images in his head behind, and reminded himself of the danger still lurking.

Storm nodded at him impersonally, "Tell Lucian to give us ten minutes and then bring the Immortal through the front doors."

Storm

Pac Man joined up with her from out of nowhere. He must have been sleeping in one of the guest rooms, silly dog. The sound of his chains seemed a small comfort as they descended the stairs. She focused on their sound to suppress her cravings for Ryder. It would have been so easy to grab his hand and sneak back to her room. When she woke to him at the foot of her bed, Storm thought for a second he might make love to her then and there. But he addressed her so coldly, "Miss Sullivan." It nearly broke her. Aunt Trin must have been very wrong about his feelings.

Once in the study, Storm tucked the journal in her waistband, under her shirt near the small of her back. Pac Man followed her in and curled up at her back as Storm sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor. She didn't actually know if she could lay a protection spell over the Immortals but it seemed possible with a few minor alterations to the incantation. It's not like they could die, Storm just didn't know what talents the new Immortal might have, or when her father might decide to drop in again.

Ryder emerged first, two bottles of red wine in one arm and a bottle of water in his other hand. He handed her the water and placed the bottles of wine on the floor in front of her. She thought he wanted to say something but the Immortal remained silent for once. His presence was distracting enough but if he started to lecture her again Storm would certainly lose control. Her body seemed to be responding to him again, even though her mind worked to turn it off. She vowed to find a way to bind her emotions again when this whole mess ended. They were really nothing but trouble.

Dan and Shane walked in just then, thankfully, their wings tucked away again and their boyish smiles quite intact. At least something remained unchanged, Shane seemed to be itching for a fight and Dan appeared wary yet determined. They laid the supplies at her feet and sat on the couch behind her.

"Alright, babe, work your mojo. We'll float you a little extra power." She knew without looking that Shane smiled so broadly his dimples would be showing.

"Lucian will be here in a few minutes, is that enough time?" Ryder sounded skeptical. Nothing like some healthy skepticism to piss her off enough to amplify that inner glow. Storm smiled at him, not the most pleasant of grins but a knowing one.

Storm wound some of each herb together and lit them in a decorative glass bowl her mother had always loved. Oh well. She called on the powers of the ancients, whispering the rites of protection and adding in a block in illusions, finishing up with a surge of power from her glowing hands that reverberated through the room and vanished. Storm stood, blew out the flame, and moved the bowl to the desk.

"That's it? What's the wine for?" Storm smiled before she turned to face Ryder who just looked perplexed. Good. Ha, that will teach him. She made a show of rolling her eyes. "Really, I can't be a bad hostess. The wine is for us to drink, Immortal. Grab some glasses from the shelf and start pouring."

Shane began laughing and Storm found herself stifling a chuckle as she settled on the sofa beside him. They heard the front doors open and within moments a knock at the door. Storm muttered a few words and the doors swung inward allowing their visitors to enter. Lucian approached first, followed by a strange man who could only be the mystery Immortal. Two kilt-clad Immortals followed him. Storm allowed the doors to slam shut behind them. Ryder stood over her, a glass of wine in his hand.

"For you, Miss Sullivan." Of course, the epitome of stoicism. Still, the familiar heat flared in her abdomen. It required a lot of control to force a tight nod and suppress her desire. The Scots stood behind the couch and waved off Ryder's offer of wine. Lucian declined as well but the seraphs accepted gladly. Ryder offered wine to Roane last. Clearly a power play on his part. Storm fought a scowl and instead smiled genially at the new arrival.

"Welcome, Roane of the Immortal Brethren, to Willow Wood Manor. What is your business with me? As you can see, I am well protected so choose your words well." Storm allowed a slight golden glow to rise in her fingertips.

"Miss Sullivan, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am grateful for the audience and hope that we can reach an agreement." Ryder had not been kidding, Roane's voice grated on her nerves, quite possibly the most irritating sound next to the emergency broadcasting system alert. Still, Storm fixed a pleasant smile on her face and worked to listen intently. "I know who hunts you and wish to offer my assistance in your protection detail."

She opened her mouth to respond but Ryder beat her to it. "How do you know who hunts her? Why do you seek to protect her now when you ordered me to extinguish her earlier?" Storm turned to Ryder who had squared his shoulders and moved forward, his fists and jaw tightly clenched. "Why are you really here Roane?"

Roane turned to Ryder, his face a strange mixture of indignation and sorrow. "I do not have to convince you, Ryder. Though I understand the source of your animosity toward me, I had to know you bore her no ill will before I could trust you." Ryder tensed further, Storm looked from her lover to her guest and back again. Roane turned to her and smiled warmly. "Miss Sullivan, I have some key information that will help you in your plight and convince you that I could never harm you."

"Very well, Ryder, sit down. I wish to hear him out. If you cannot contain yourself then you can leave. This man is my guest and you would do well to remember that." Ryder looked at her, shock and awe blanketing his face. It stung a bit to have him look at her in that way, as if she'd wounded him somehow. Well, no more than he'd done to her. Dammit, now she sounded childish.

Roane's grating voice dropped to a soft whisper, "You are my granddaughter, Miss Sullivan."

The room fell silent as everybody turned to face Roane. He in turn stared directly at Storm.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" Shane broke the shocked silence. He stood and moved closer to Ryder in an effort to obstruct Roane's view of Storm. While Shane and Ryder possessed very nice derrieres, she did not want to be eye level with them at this point in time.

Lucian chimed in; she recognized his voice though she couldn't see him either. "I believe Roane thinks Storm to be his granddaughter, if I am reading this situation correctly." Sarcasm, nice touch. She could definitely get along with him.

Shane and Ryder separated and turned to face her, in fact, when they moved, she realized all eyes were on her. Dammit. This could not be happening. How much more had Aunt Trin failed to tell her? Would she even find a family tree in the journal? Could things possibly get more complicated?

"She is my granddaughter if she is the child of the anomaly." Roane's voice took on a different quality when he spoke softly; Storm could hear emotion in it that was absent when he spoke normally. It seemed a strange thought, to be looking at her grandfather who looked younger than her father did, but somehow it fit.

One of the Scots spoke up, "How is that possible? Immortals cannot reproduce."

"That is why my son is the anomaly, and quite dangerous." Roane looked to Ryder, "You do not know my story, though you scorn and fear me. I once was a part of the world, once fought in wars and trained other Immortals, much like you. I took many wives in my long life, loved each of them in their own right. Then I met Damarra."

That name seemed familiar. Storm flashed through her history lessons. "Wait, Damarra as in the Celtic fertility goddess?" Storm remembered reading about her as a teenager. Celtic lore had been one of her passions and she'd spent a good deal of time in Ireland and Scotland on her travels.

"Yes. She and I were together for a century. Then Damarra decided that she wanted a child. Of course she knew the limitations of Immortals but would not hear reason. Damarra, sweet and innocent and gentle spirited, sought aide from the witch, Morgaine, and unbeknownst to me found a way to counteract the infertility of Immortals. When I found out she was pregnant I became angry and worried about interference from the brethren. That's why I joined the council and went to live with the monks. I had to know everything about our history and potential outcomes of what Damarra had done. I saw to Morgaine's punishment myself when I weighed in with Arthur in his conquests and Damarra fled to the safety of the Tuatha de Danann. I heard nothing of her after that." Roane took a deep drink from the wine glass, emptying it, and stared into the glass. "About fifty years later, I came across a village Seer, a woman with true sight. I still had not located Damarra and was desperate for answers. You see, the Tuatha de are a shifty race and they became more isolated as the world changed. So, when I found this Seer I recognized the depth of her Sight and asked for a reading. She knew me for what I am and obliged." Roane paused. "I am sorry, could I possibly get a glass of water? I am unused to speaking so much."

Storm stood and made for the door but Ryder took her arm and spun her around. "I will get it. You should rest, it has been a long day for you, Miss Sullivan." He looked down at her meaningfully, his eyes flared silver for a moment and she remembered the dining room. Dammit. How could she stay mad at him when he looked at her like that? Storm forced a nod and Ryder released her arm. He strode out of the study and she sat back down on the sofa beside Dan. Again the room fell to silence. Storm tugged on Shane's arm, urging him to sit down, in an effort to diffuse some of the tension while they waited.

"He cares for you deeply, child." She felt Roane studying her again. As an afterthought, he added, "As do the seraphs." Storm felt her face flush. Dan reached over and squeezed her hand. Apparently things could get worse. Mortification abound. Fortunately, Ryder returned with a glass of water and thrust it unceremoniously at Roane before settling on the arm of the sofa next to Dan. A few drops spilled out onto his pants but Roane paid them no attention. He simply took a gulp of water and returned to looking at Storm.

Roane took another drink before continuing, "The Seer's name was Celine O'Sullivan, a fiery redhead with four young girls when I first met her. She had three more and a score of granddaughters before her death. I am certain you see where this is going. Your ancestor predicted the birth of the Emerald, a Seer of the Sullivan line with unusual power and enough talent to end the line of Immortals. Celine predicted that the Emerald would come from my son and a Sullivan woman. Unfortunately, my familiar was outside her cottage and heard that part of the prophecy. He raced off to the council and told them about my son and the Sullivans." Roane hung his head. Storm wanted to comfort him, she couldn't pinpoint why, she just had the overwhelming urge to do so. Shane placed a hand on her leg and squeezed. The urge passed and she listened as Roane continued. "The council couldn't prove I had fathered a child or exile me for any wrong doing, but they wanted me close after that. I was unanimously voted into a seat on the council and removed from the traveling lists. Of course, at that point I knew my child survived and I had heard the entire prophecy. I did not trust anyone other than the monks who were bound to the brethren so I went to live among them spending my days and nights in the archives researching the Tuatha De and Morgaine's magic. I visited Celine a few more times before her death and I smuggled her daughters out of Ireland. Since then, I have been secretly helping the line of Sullivans, waiting for my granddaughter."

"That is an excellent story, but I am afraid it is simply not possible." Ryder stood and glared at Roane, if looks could kill, well, more like, if Roane could die. Storm's mind reeled with the onslaught of information. Questions formed and then were replaced with new questions, so many that she didn't know where to begin. Her head hurt all of a sudden and she really needed time to process this. It felt true to her. But Ryder seemed skeptical. Even Dan and Shane were eyeing the Immortal suspiciously. She really wished their lie detection worked on Immortals.

Ryder

Ryder could not believe his ears. No way had Roane been aiding the Sullivans this whole time, not once had Ryder come across him on any of the assassinations. He never even heard of Roane having a child, an utter impossibility for Immortals, and this Damarra woman, how convenient that she went missing hundreds of years ago.

"It is true. And, there is more. It would not make sense without the history, but I know so much more. I can help." Roane looked from Ryder to Storm and back again. "Ryder, I swear on the brethren that what I tell is true. I have been cursed for my knowledge and I came to town the instant I heard of Trin Sullivan's death." Roane seemed to be doing a smashing job of playing to his audience. Ryder folded his arms over his chest. He stared down Roane who looked, well, he looked sad. No, not possible. This could not be possible. Ryder looked to Lucian who met his eye and seemed just as suspicious. Kell and Pollux shrugged when he looked to each of them in turn.

"Why?" Storm's voice broke through the tension. Ryder turned to her, confusion and frustration marring her lovely face. Her eyes blazed and her fingertips glowed just slightly. Not a good sign. Ryder sat back on the sofa arm and nudged Dan who then noted Storm's fingertips as well. He took one of her hands and began massaging the pressure points in her wrist.

Roane finished off the last of the water and looked back to Storm, "Because, Trin Sullivan bound your emotions and with them your powers rendering you useless as the Emerald and deflecting the brethren's assassin, that would be you Ryder. She was very good, the best of your line since Celine. Unfortunately, my son grew up with the Tuatha De and possesses some of his mothers' powers. Your aunt was never meant to carry your power, though, she was merely mortal and her shell could not take it. Even the small portion she could use ended up being too much for her. In the end, it was rendered useless and Trin Sullivan knew it. She destroyed her would be assassins in one fell swoop, disintegrated them actually. I saw the wreckage. I cleaned up the mess to protect our world. To the police she was just another victim of gang violence." Roane continued to study Storm. Ryder watched, alert and ready to move if necessary. He stole glances at Storm from the corner of his eye. She chewed on her lip for a few minutes and blew that stubborn strand of hair from her eyes. Ryder clamped down on his arousal and focused on Roane.

"So I am part goddess and my magic is what killed my aunt because she tried to use it to protect me from my father who is trying to capture me to kill me for some reason. Is that what you are telling me?" Storm looked so small sitting on the sofa between the seraphs. Ryder wanted so badly to carry her away from all of this until the others could dispose of Jasper. He sighed. She would never leave. His stubborn Storm. His. Gods he wanted her to be his. Every part of his body wanted her. Have to save her first though. The words popped in his head and he looked over to Lucian who smiled knowingly. Gotcha. Lucian winked and turned back to watch Roane.

"For the most part, yes. Your father wishes to harness your abilities to rule the supernatural world. He thinks it is his true place, the son of an Immortal and a Goddess. I believe that he has gone a touch mad." Roane trailed off and then focused back on Storm, "wait, how did you come to think he wishes you dead?" Roane actually seemed perplexed. Something the mighty Roane had not figured out? Ryder wanted to interject a snide comment but thought better of it when he chanced another glance at Storm. Her brows were furrowed and she seemed just as confused.

"Well, when he had me earlier I told him about why I left home at seventeen and he became real interested in it. I actually used it to anger him enough to break down his magic. I am not a complete idiot so I put two and two together and voila! My father wants me dead." Storm sounded so matter of fact. Ryder marveled at how collected she remained under the circumstances.

"You told him why you left?" Ryder could not be sure which seraph asked since his eyes remained on Storm, but it did not really matter he supposed. She turned to Dan, must have been him.

"Yes, I couldn't help it. Honestly, I couldn't stop myself. The words just came out." She looked ashamed. Ryder wanted to comfort her, tell her it would be alright. He did not quite understand what the big deal was but apparently it had been bad for her to reveal that to him.

"You never told us. You never told Trin." Ah, that was the reason. Ryder felt himself growing increasingly irritated with the seraphs. They clearly wanted her. He would not share her. Ever. A strand of hair fell in Storm's face. He wanted for her to blow it backward as she had before. Instead, she glanced at him briefly, pain in her green eyes.

Storm looked at Dan, then Shane, then lowered her eyes and answered; her voice barely audible, "I saw my own death."

Ryder had not seen that coming. He moved to kneel in front of her, "Storm?" She did not respond. He lifted her chin with his finger, a jolt of electricity ran through him the instant he touched her, but Ryder kept his voice soft and steady, "Storm, when does it happen? How?"

A tear rolled down her cheek, "I don't know. It keeps changing now. The first time I saw it, I just saw my face, eyes wide open and staring at nothing with a trickle of blood at the corner of my mouth. Now, well, it changes."

Roane spoke up again in that soft voice that Ryder had never heard before today. "Do you see it often? When did you last see it?" He moved to kneel beside Ryder, "I promise you, Storm, we will save you."

Ryder looked at his fellow Immortal, nothing but love in his face for Storm, but not lust or want, true paternal affection. The kind Jasper should have shown her. Maybe Roane had told them the truth. It did not matter so long as he pledged to keep Storm safe, if he swore on the Immortal code. That would convince Ryder.

"Swear on the Immortal Code that you will keep her safe." Ryder heard the words out of Lucian's mouth as if they were his own. He turned to face Lucian, searching for the flicker in his eye but saw none. "Roane, if you are speaking truth then swear on the code and we will trust you in this."

Roane stood slowly. "If I must, I will. Ryder will you do the honor? I seemingly have you to convince most of all in this." Ryder nodded. Lucian flipped a lighter at him. Ryder caught it and flicked the flame. Roane put his hand directly over the flame, the scent of burning flesh began to seep into their nostrils. Storm began to protest but fortunately the seraphs silenced her. Ryder could not break eye contact. Roane spoke slowly, "I swear that all I have said is true as I know it, I swear on the code of the Immortal Brethren that I will protect my granddaughter, Storm Sullivan, always and I swear that I will do all in my power to help her find happiness in this world." Ryder nodded tightly and released the flame. Roane held his palm up to Ryder, then Lucian, Kell, and Pollux. They all nodded.

"That was barbaric. And, completely unnecessary." Storm folded her arms over her chest and glared up at Ryder. He would never win with this woman. How could she not see that he merely wanted to make sure everyone involved remained honest.

"Storm, it is our way. You have traveled; surely you have seen worse things?" Roane defending him. Ryder never thought he would live to see the day. She paused to think about it but the scowl remained.

"Perhaps we should figure out why Jasper wants her dead and how we intend to stop that from happening. Everything else becomes moot if we can't figure that out, right?" Ryder knew he owed Lucian in a huge way for his aide on this, he'd become exceptionally skilled at redirecting dangerous conversations since this whole thing began. Perhaps he could round up a few gremlins for the training room. Or maybe a special lady, somebody with a little more fire than Angeline and a few kids less than Rosalee. That too would have to wait. Ryder felt a lengthy to do list growing in his head.

"He goes by Jasper these days? Interesting choice." Roane shrugged, "It matters not. Based on what you have told us, I believe he has changed his plan. Rather than rule with you as his prisoner, my son intends to bind your powers to his own and then have you killed so that he can take permanent control of them. With your power he could certainly take over the supernatural world and of course, end me."

Storm

"Why would he want to harm you? How could he? I thought it against supernatural law to harm your kin?" Storm felt the situation spiraling out of control in the worst way. Something seemed to be escaping her, something that would tie everything together. She looked up to Ryder. He smiled at her, his eyes flashing silver again. Storm looked away quickly.

"It is against supernatural laws to harm your kin, but he believes himself to be above our laws. He believes himself to be divine." Roane's voice had regained that flat, eerie tone again. It sent chills down her spine. He seemed to notice her reaction and lowered his voice again, "He blames me for abandoning his mother and wishes to take my immortality for himself. I am sure you have noticed that he has aged somewhat."

"I don't understand. If you are Immortal and his mother is a Goddess, how can he age? That doesn't make sense." Storm had recognized the crow's feet and graying hair which now seemed odd given her father's lineage.

"It is part of the magic. He is not supposed to exist therefore he has a finite time to live. While his life has been long, my son has begun to show the signs of age, more so since your birth. I have come to believe that he feels you stole some of his longevity." Roane looked apologetic, sad even, "He wanted you to harness the power of the legendary Emerald but I do not believe he intended to bargain away any of his mortality in exchange."

"Will I live longer than usual? Do you know what I am capable of?" Storm had so many questions, now that she could put a history to her life and sit in a room of people – okay, very gorgeous males – who accepted her, life seemed far better than it had in a long, long while. Somehow, it would all work out. She looked at her grandfather, studying his smooth face and marveling at how he could be her grandfather, they could pass for the same age.

Roane shrugged, "I cannot be sure about your longevity as I am not sure of your father's, as for your power and what you are truly capable of, I would guess you have a fair combination of all of your ancestors. I am forbidden from sharing my unique talents, as is our way, but I am sure that with time you will figure it out. Your grandmother, as you know, is a fertility goddess. She had some other minor talents and history is filled with quarrels over her true abilities, but instinct remained her greatest asset. Damarra had a gift for the arts as well, I would guess that passed to you as well."

"What about from my father? If I know what skills he has perhaps I can neutralize them with my own, if I possess them too?" Storm felt hands on her shoulders and went rigid in response, until she realized they belonged to Ryder, the warmth seeped into her muscles and his scent saturated her senses turning the soft flutter in her stomach into a roaring inferno.

"I could read you to see what you are capable of." His velvety voice hit her as she registered how close his lips were to her earlobe. A flood of memories and fantasies washed over her. Storm closed her eyes and suppressed a moan but nodded in agreement. Ryder sighed and gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. Storm registered what he was trying to tell her, he wouldn't be able to read her in front of the others. That would mean more time alone, and the need to break away.

Storm stood and stretched. "You know what, never mind. I really don't think I can take anymore today. I need to process all of this, it has been," she paused for effect and feigned a small yawn, "enlightening and draining. Could we take a break and maybe I could get a little sleep? There are plenty of guest beds for all of you and I truly hope you will all stay."

"Everybody stays. We will take turns protecting the house." Ryder's voice sounded foreign with such a hard edge to it, no hint of the velveteen she loved.

The Scots nodded in unison and muttered something about first shift on the perimeter. Lucian nodded and volunteered for second shift. Dan looked at her, his eyes full of many unspoken things, most of which she doubted she'd want to hear. "Shane and I will take turns outside your window, just in case."

"Yeah, babe, I am going to catch a few Zs but I will be in the room next to you." He looked to Ryder, an unusual hardness evident in his gaze. "If you need anything, holler."

Storm looked to Roane, her grandfather. Maybe if she said it enough times it would sound less foreign. He smiled in response, she could see what Damarra must have seen in him. He could be dashing if he tried to be less severe. When he smiled at Storm, she saw pride and affection. How odd. "Roane, I mean, Grandfather, I – what should I call you?"

Roane laughed, a strange sound, not warm but not creepy like his speaking voice, "Why don't you call me whatever you feel comfortable with. I am not weary, my dear, so I will patrol with Kell and Pollux. We can speak more in the morning?"

She smiled and nodded, fatigue truly claiming her body and mind more quickly than she imagined possible. He stood and took a step forward, hesitated and started to walk out. Storm walked to him and grabbed his arm. When Roane turned, Storm put her arms about his waist and hugged him tightly. She felt his body tense and then relax into the hug. He sniffed her hair. Her grandfather smelled of the outdoors, no other way to describe it, like fresh cut grass and salty ocean air mixed with dried leaves and pine dust. When she released him, he smiled down at her, his face relaxed even further.

"Storm, you are an amazing child. I expect wonderful things from you." He winked and walked off leaving her alone with Ryder, again. Dammit. Could she do this?

Ryder

"That was creepy." The words came out before he realized it. Why could he not stop offending her?

"What?" She turned to look at him, fatigue etched across her face, her eyes glittering with excitement. Gods, he wanted her. Everything inside him yearned to scoop her up and have her against the bookshelves, on the sofas, the rug before the hearth – he pushed the memories aside and moved to adjust his growing arousal.

"I found it strange to see Roane behave in that manner. He has always been aloof at best."

"Oh, I thought you said something about him being creepy." She raised an eyebrow knowingly but half smiled at him. "It doesn't matter, I get it. Let's get this reading done. What do I have to do?"

"Nothing, really. I just need to touch you to be able to focus on just you and block all of the other supernaturals milling around." Ryder really did not need to touch her now that they stood alone in the room but she did not need to know that. Just one more touch, perhaps on her bare arms to feel her soft, smooth skin, that would suffice. "Would you rather move to your bedroom so that you can go to sleep if you like? You seem tired."

Storm eyed him suspiciously. Then she shrugged and nodded, "might as well. More comfortable up there."

They headed for the door but before exiting, she turned to face him, misjudged how close he'd been, and they crashed into each other. She backed up, a slight dazed look on her face. Storm must have felt it as well, electricity flooded him when they touched. His arousal had returned in full force that very instant. She stood so close he could smell her. Her energy pulsed through the air around them heightening the intense attraction even further. He could not take it. Ryder wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in, inhaling her scent deeply as her hair brushed under his chin.

"What do you think you are doing?" Storm's voice muffled against his chest did little to hide her irritation.

Ryder loosened his hold slightly and she tried to break free but he refused to let her. Instead, Ryder turned her, moved her to the bookshelf to their left and held her against it, at just the right level. Before she could protest, his mouth found hers. Ryder started strong but not too forcefully, his hands found her hips and rolled downward until he could pull her legs up around his waist. He kissed down her chin to her neck and back to her earlobe. She moaned loudly in response. Ryder pressed against her. He never wanted anyone so much.

Storm

She moaned. Dammit. She wanted this. She wanted him. Hell, she needed him. Her skin felt like fire and Ryder's hands and lips only fueled the burning. He cupped her bottom and pulled her in closer. She could hear herself panting with need. He stopped without letting her go.

"Storm, look at me." That voice, not a command but a request, soft and sincere but edged with lust.

She looked. Ryder's eyes blazed silver. "I want you Storm Sullivan. I want you to be mine. I want you in every way that a male wants a female. I have never in all my lifetimes wanted a woman as I want you. Will you have me?"

"Yes." The word came out before Storm even realized it. Ryder's eyes flared and then they were on the floor before the hearth, her pants long gone and his as well. The moment he entered her everything glowed gold, she exploded in ecstasy beyond anything she ever could have imagined. Crying out his name she dug her nails into his back which only engaged him further. He rolled them over so that she straddled him and instinct took over. Storm rocked in a rhythm as Ryder wrestled her shirt off. His eyes flew wide at the sight of her in the violet lace bra. He shifted her and sat up so that he could kiss her cleavage, soft fluttering kisses that caused the tension to build again. Storm pulled his shirt off and bent her head to kiss his chest, nibbling at his left nipple. Ryder moaned and she felt him tense against her. She pulled back and looked in his eyes, silver pools like small moons. Storm kissed him, sliding her tongue in his mouth to caress his. He moaned again.

Then they were up, her back against the bookshelf, his head buried in her breasts, her hands in his hair. He entered her again using the bookshelf as leverage and started a faster rhythm. She cried out his name several more times. Ryder called out her name as they climaxed together. Storm collapsed into him, her body thrumming with the after-effects. Lifting her head from his shoulder she noticed her arm glowing golden. She tried to will it away but couldn't even cause it to fade. Trying not to sound too alarmed or completely ruin the moment, she whispered in his ear, "Um, Ryder, I am glowing."

He kept his head nestled in her shoulder, "I know. You do that."

"Wait, what do you mean? I have done this before?" Storm felt the panic rising in her chest, she couldn't glow gold every time she became aroused. She looked at her arm again, still not fading. Great.

Ryder pulled back and looked her in the eye, his still that lovely liquid silver. "Yes, you did it before when we made love. Your power is simply tied to your emotions. It is not a crisis, Storm, it is part of the goddess in you. I think you can change the color if you like but I am partial to the gold myself."

"Wait, did you say goddess? You read me?"

"You knew you were part goddess. But, yes I read you, just now while you were having a meltdown about your glow." Ryder let her down and walked over to collect their clothes. He started dressing in silence. Storm stared at him. Gods he could be the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. She actually found herself growing aroused again, just looking at him and recalling his hands on her, his lips fluttering along her jawline, his – no, not a good idea. Instead, she put her hands upon her hips and tapped her foot.  
"Somehow, that does not have the same effect when you are naked." Ryder chuckled and approached her, clothes in hand. He slipped the shirt over her head and kissed her nose softly as she pushed her arms through. "You are lovely. I like when you glow."

"What else did you read from me?"

He silently handed her pants and undies over and stepped backward, leaning against the edge of the sofa. "Well, other than the Sight and your affinity for witchcraft, you have affinities for nature and fertility. It is very feasible that you could take immortality from my kind. In actuality, your purpose seems to be one of balance and healing. You can right any supernatural wrongs essentially."

"That's it? Really? So I can't do anything special?" Storm felt her shoulders slump. Dammit. She had grown excited at the prospect of having some real talents. What a let-down. Everybody made such a big deal about the Emerald and how much power she should have but in the end, she really was just a witch with the Sight. She felt Ryder's hand tugging at her chin and looked up to meet his gaze. The silver seemed to have faded slightly but he looked so intent.

"Storm, you are very powerful. I am not sure how you came to possess so much magic. There is so much that it seems generalized. Your magical fingerprint is completely unique. What I saw will make you valuable to any supernatural; however, I have no intention of sharing you." Ryder smiled, a lopsided sexy smile that made her want to jump him all over again. He released her chin and stepped back, watching her dress. Storm took her time stepping into her pants and adjusting her attire, allowing the news to sink in.

"So, what you are saying is that I am a freak."

Ryder approached her, cupped her face in his hands and studied her intensely. "You are no freak. You are amazing and talented and the most extraordinary woman I have ever known. Every male in this house wants you, wants to be near you simply because of the effect you have on us. Do you understand how stunning you are on every level?"

Storm felt the heat build in her cheeks. She lowered her eyes.

Ryder

Ryder gazed at Storm, her innocence and humility made her even more attractive. She really had no idea just how intriguing she could be. Beneath her hard exterior she maintained an irresistible vulnerability. Granted, he certainly did not want to spend any more time on the receiving end of her wrath. The affection on the other hand, well, that he could live with. Ryder wrapped his arms about her waist and pulled her close, relishing the feel of her body against his. Her hair smelled amazing. The golden glow seemed to be fading slightly, probably for the better since Storm seemed so self-conscious about it. She'd have to get used to it, though.

"What are we going to do about my father?" She pulled back and looked up at him, wide eyed and curious but not afraid, not an ounce of fear in her.

"I am not sure yet. We will come up with something. Any of our kind would be satisfied with his death if they knew his intentions. I could call on the brethren to eradicate him." Ryder had thought about that initially as the only option. He could not allow Storm to kill him and Roane would have the same problem. Kin-killers were tortured and executed in the supernatural community. Since Jasper had not yet crossed that line they could not call on the supernatural authority to intervene.

"If the brethren were to start arriving he would be alerted to their presence and flee. I don't believe that is an option. I think we need to handle this ourselves."

He saw the truth in her statement; surely Jasper would be watching supernatural movements in the vicinity, especially now that he knew the Immortals were involved. Ryder wondered if Jasper was aware that Roane had joined their company. It would certainly give them an advantage over Jasper if he remained unaware of Roane's involvement but they could not rely on that.

"No, you are right; we have to assume that Jasper is aware of Roane's involvement. We have to anticipate every possible move my father could make."

Ryder looked at Storm, "What did you just say?"

"I said you were right?" Her face registered confusion. She did not realize what just happened.

"You read my mind." Ryder paced the room. He had not seen that ability in her. How could he have not registered telepathy?

"I don't get it? You said that we should assume Jasper knows about Roane and I agreed with you. Why are you getting so upset?" Storm's pleas nearly broke him. She really did not know she did it.

Ryder turned and looked at her, "Storm, you read my mind. I did not say that aloud, I thought it."

She clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes widening in shock. They stood in silence, measuring each other for a few moments before she dropped her hand. "I – I'm sorry. I didn't know I could do that. I just heard you talking and - I'm sorry."

"Do not be sorry. It could prove useful. Keep it between us for now. Have you ever read the seraphs before?"

"No. I have never read anybody before. I didn't know I could do it." She shrugged. "I mean, I never tried to read anybody so I am not sure how it works. How come you didn't read that on me?"

"I am not sure." The thought troubled him greatly. "Let's go see if you can read somebody else, Kell or Pollux, I think. Just do not let them know what you are doing, alright?" She nodded. "Maybe you should grab a jacket or something?"

On their way out, Storm took a cardigan from the coatrack. He recognized it as one of Trin's but said nothing. The guilt of sleeping with her aunt still weighed on him. How would she ever forgive that?

"You didn't sleep with Aunt Trin. She just made you believe you did." Storm looked back at him and smiled. "You didn't sleep with her, Ry. She told me."

"What?" Ryder could not figure out what part of that made him more uneasy. He stopped moving and just stared at her. How could that be possible? He knew the feeling of her beneath him, all of her beauty marks, her – wait.

"Aunt Trin is linked to a Soul Mirror, I talked to her. She told me she spelled you to believe you'd slept together so that you would listen to her about the Emerald and your immortality. You never really slept with her." Storm shrugged and headed out the front door into the night. Ryder caught her, lifted her tops and tugged at the waistband of her jeans. Sure enough. Wow. He had not seen that coming.

"What are you doing" Storm hissed at him, a mixture of irritation and arousal, he could tell now somehow.

"I had to know. She does not have the same birth mark as you, does she? I mean, that small mark shaped like a flower on your left hip?" The pieces were clicking together slowly, at least to the mystery of him and Trin Sullivan.

"Nope. That's all me. Why?" Storm stopped and looked at him quizzically. The moonlight broke through and lit her auburn hair just so. Gods, what a beautiful woman.

"So, you are telling me that she fabricated an entire relationship. I am not sure how it is possible but I think she planted images of you in my memories." Ryder weighed the facts but still came up confused. "How could that be? Her magic should not have worked on me in that capacity."

"No, I know. But I think she used my magic to enhance her own. Hey, she only did it because she had a vision of us together and wanted me to be happy." Storm stopped and tugged at his arm. "It really isn't a big deal is it? I mean, she did it for us, so we could find each other. If you had killed her like the Sullivan's before her then you never would have found out about the real prophecy. You might have killed me." She smiled. Her whole face lit up and he knew it really did not matter. Nothing in the world matter but her. Ryder pulled her up in his arms and slanted his mouth on hers. He pulled back and rested his forehead on hers, eyes closed, inhaling her scent. "I love you. Nothing matters but you. Please believe that."

"Somehow, I do. I mean, I never saw this for me. Of course, I didn't have emotions until a week or so ago and my father apparently cursed me so that I wouldn't find men attractive, so it kind of goes without saying that love was not on my horizon before you. I still haven't figured that part out either, but I honestly don't care anymore." She stopped, an embarrassed look crept across her face followed by a truly flattering blush.

Ryder pulled back, lifted her chin with his finger and studied her, "Are you saying that you love me back?"

"Yes, I guess I am. It feels like I have been waiting for you somehow." Storm smiled at him, "Now quit stalling, let's go see what I can do with my new trick." She took off down the driveway, her hair blowing in the wind. He took off after her to find one of the Scots.

Storm

"Miss Sullivan? What are you doing out here? I thought you were going to sleep." The Scot looked more than alarmed to see her out and about. She caught enough of his countenance in the light from the front gate to know that.

"I know, I got into bed and found myself too restless to sleep." He seemed to accept her answer and nodded. "I'm sorry, are you Kell or Pollux?" She tried to reach in his head and pluck the information out but heard nothing. With Ryder it had been like he was talking to her; it didn't even register that she was listening to his thoughts.

"I'm Pollux. I know we look a lot alike. He simply refuses to cut his hair though it would make things easier." He smiled at her, she could see the charm he possessed glaring through in a boyish manner. "I am the elder so I should get to choose my look first, right?"

Storm couldn't help herself, she burst out laughing. Ryder walked up and greeted Pollux. "Hey, the lady wanted to get some fresh air. Any sign of activity?" He looked at her meaningfully and she stopped laughing. She shook her head to let him know she couldn't hear Pollux. Ryder shrugged and smiled. Storm heard his thoughts loud and clear, he didn't want her to find Pollux too endearing. Aw, he felt jealous. In spite of the impending attack from Daddy Dearest, Storm found herself in an amazing mood. It could just be the earth-shattering sex or the glow of love, but somehow it seemed more than that, like she finally found her true self, not the dour, uptight ice queen she'd been before.

"No, it has been unusually quiet. Roane seems anxious, well, more than usual anyway. Man, Ry, it was weird to see and hear him like that. No offense, Miss Sullivan. I have never seen Roane soften toward anybody." Pollux seemed a little embarrassed. Another charming attribute. The ladies must adore him.

"None taken, Pollux. And please, call me Storm. I have never liked formalities. Thank you for being here. I intend to return the favor someday." Storm smiled broadly. She meant it. She'd find a way to repay the kindness they'd all shown her.

"Well, Storm, I get that you'd like fresh air but if Roane sees you out here he is liable to go into a complete freak out. He believes that Jasper intends to make a move this evening. Perhaps you should be tucked safely away until this is over?"

Dammit. That ruined the whole charm factor. Storm did not like the damsel in distress feeling she kept getting from the Immortals. She may be smaller, softer, and newer to this life but there was nothing defenseless about her. Hell, she got away from her father on her own just a few hours ago and now she knew more about what she was up against. Storm felt her teeth grinding and then Ryder's hand on hers. He gave her a warning look.

"Pollux, I am certain that Storm can handle herself but perhaps you are correct, Roane will not appreciate seeing her out her just begging for Jasper to attack." Dammit, that was smooth. Ryder pictured her naked again, how could she argue with that. "Storm, let's go up to your room and you can shower up and rest. I could go for a hot shower myself and maybe I could prepare us a bite to eat?"

Dammit. She was bombarded with images of Ryder fondling her in the shower, then Ryder toweling her dry as he kissed her neck. Storm looked at him and raised an eyebrow. He just smiled and shrugged, tugging her back toward the house. They walked hand in hand up the drive.

"Why do you think I can hear you but not Pollux?"

"Perhaps one of Pollux's gifts is being able to block mind readers. Who knows? We can try again with the others but for now, let's focus on neutralizing your father. You have plenty of time to explore your many gifts." Ryder squeezed her hand and opened the front door for her.

"I have the journal still. Maybe it can shed some light on all of this?" Storm reached to the small of her back and realized it must be in the study somewhere after their little escapade. "It's in the study, I'll get it. Why don't you go make us something to eat?"

"No, I think I'll stay with you. I agree with Pollux, the night is too quiet. I am not letting you out of my sight tonight."

"Don't be ridiculous. He can't even get into the study. Ryder, there is one room between the study and the kitchen and I am not some helpless waif. I took care of him before. Trust me." He looked skeptical but Storm stood her ground. She needed some female friends in the worst way. All this testosterone could drive a woman crazy. "Ryder, I will be fine. I am protected in the study and you said yourself, I am powerful."

He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "I just do n0t want to lose you now that I have found you. Believe me, I know how strong you are and I trust you to handle yourself."

"I know. Now please, go make some food. You work up a hell of an appetite in me." Storm stretched up and planted a kiss on his lips.

Ryder

She bounded off toward the study leaving him with a raging arousal and consequently very motivated to make the shower fantasy into a reality very soon. Ryder sauntered into the kitchen, trying to sort out Storm's mindreading talent, how to defeat her father, and trying to control his growing desire to have her again. He failed to pick up on the other presence in the room. Ryder barely registered the pain in his head before everything went pitch black.

Storm

Storm found the journal under the sofa. She paused to remember the feel of his hands and the warmth of his skin on hers. Who would have guessed? The Emerald in love with an Immortal. It felt strange to know her role as the Emerald, a legendary Seer with great power and apparently a real destiny. Suddenly it felt too big, too much responsibility, too much power. She sat on the sofa and looked at the brown leather journal.

Opening the journal, Storm recognized Aunt Trin's scrawling hand.

My Storm,

If you are reading this it is because I am no longer there to tell you of our lineage. I have spent years collecting all of the information I could find on the legend of the Emerald and what you may expect with your powers. I know that with my demise it will all be unleashed on you, love. All of your emotions, and consequently your powers, will be unlocked. I am hopeful that they will not overwhelm you. I am confident that your strength and the strength of our line will help you.

Allow yourself to love Ryder. He is a good man, even if he is the Immortal who has hunting our line for centuries. That sounded bitter as I re-read it, but, I know now that he was misled.

Good luck, love. I am so proud of you and I look forward to seeing you again as often as possible. I will always be with you.

All my love,

Aunt Trin

Tears burned in her eyes. The tears she should have shed over Aunt Trin's grave. She wiped them away with the back of her hand and flipped to the first page. Her aunt had laid out the family tree, on one page the many generations of Sullivans back to Celine and on the other side, Jasper listed as her father and two lines that connected him to Roane and Damarra. Well, Roane seemed to be telling the truth. She flipped to the next page and found the legend of the Emerald. There seemed to be slight variations listed that went on for several more pages but Aunt Trin had labeled one as the true prophecy. She noted that it had been copied directly from Celine's journal and sure enough it matched what Roane had told them.

Storm felt a strange prickly sensation up the back of her neck. Ryder had not come for her yet. She couldn't hear him in the kitchen either. Storm reached out for him mentally but came up empty. He wouldn't have left her. Dammit. Storm crept out of the study, careful to hold her emotions in check so she wouldn't start glowing. She took the long way around rather than cutting through the dining room, instinct guiding her along the shadows. The alternate entrance to the kitchen didn't have a door so she could peek into the kitchen before entering.

Tucking the journal in the waistband of her pants so she could feel it at the small of her back, Storm gathered her power and allowed the glow into her hands. "Ryder? What are we having to eat? She focused on keeping her voice neutral as she entered.

The kitchen was empty but for a note stuck to the cabinets with an athame. Storm's breath caught in her throat. She recognized the dagger and the writing on the note. Dammit. Her father took Ryder.

Storm removed the athame from the note. She read it quickly and screamed for Dan and Shane. Then the vision hit, blinding pain seared behind her eyes. Everything went black.

Ryder

His head throbbed. Ryder half opened one eye, just to be safe. A light flickered somewhere above him and a strange buzzing sound droned in the distance. His hands were tied. He moved a leg and realized his legs were chained. The chair he sat in felt cold and hard, like an old metal office chair. He sniffed at the air, a combination of rotting flesh and mildew flooded his nostrils. An old meat packing plant, smart. There were two defunct plants, one located just two miles from Willow Wood.

"Ah, you are awake. Good." Jasper moved into Ryder's line of vision, a smug look on his face. "There is more than one way to get what I want. You all worried so much about protecting my daughter that you were careless in protecting yourselves."

"She does not need protection." Ryder glared at his captor. "What good am I? You cannot kill me."

Jasper laughed at him, the creepy cackle he seemed to enjoy. "I don't have to kill you. I can maim you. You are immortal but you don't regenerate parts that are magically removed." He gestured to a surgical table at the side of the room. "I intend to enjoy this immensely." Jasper actually licked his lips, like a demented villain off an old cartoon. He walked over to the table and ran his hand along the edge of the table, clearly determining which weapon to choose. Ryder had dealt with madmen before; he'd even been in this position before.

"The Brethren will hunt you down like a dog. Especially your father, I think he would enjoy it." Ryder knew he'd struck the right cord immediately. Jasper tensed then relaxed and turned to face Ryder.

"Mind tricks won't work with me. Mentioning my father as if it would trouble me. He is nothing. You are nothing. Immortals will cease to exist once I reclaim the power my daughter stole from me."

"No mind tricks, Jasper. You would require a mind in order for such things to work. You have clearly lost yours." Ryder faked boredom, "I mean, look at this. A meat packing plant not two miles from your daughter's home where she sits with two seraphs and four Immortals at her beck and call? Only a fool would attempt such a feat against Storm."

"You are just trying to shake me. I am no fool, I have planned this for years. Perhaps I did not see all variables but I built in a certain amount of flexibility. While I work on you here, my hybrids are surrounding Willow Wood. And I am certain my daughter has found my message by now." Jasper returned to fingering the tools. He'd select one and then shake his head and mumble something as he set it back down.

"Talking to oneself is a sign of insanity, Jasper." Ryder had loosened the restraints on his wrists, a poor tie job with old rope by the feel of it. He did not think Jasper had tied the ropes. The chains on his feet were clearly magically enforced but if he could use his hands Ryder would stand a better chance of remaining intact.

Jasper slammed the cleaver onto the table causing the whole structure to rattle. "I. Am. Not. Mad. I am misunderstood. I am wronged. I am brilliant. I am not mad."

"No, I am pretty certain you are batshit. As in, light's on but nobody's home, a few aces short of a full deck," Ryder had a book of such sayings that Pollux had sent him, he worked to remember some of his favorites as he played with his restraints, "a few fries short of a happy meal, a few ants short of a picnic, a few planes short of an Air Force, all wax with no wick - "

"Enough. I am not insane." Jasper turned to face him, his eyes narrowing, "You are trying to rile me up, it won't work. By the way, even if you slip out of your hand restraints, your chains are magically bound and believe me, you can't break them."

"...not playing with all your marbles...."

"It won't work, Immortal." Jasper returned to playing with his weapons. Ryder let the ropes fall to the ground. Time for a different approach. He stretched but found it impossible to take a step in any direction. However, Ryder could pick up the chair. He lifted it and flung it at Jasper. The seat of the chair hit him across the shoulders and caused the anomaly to fall forward on his table of torture with a grunt.

Storm

Storm came to in her bedroom. Several pair of eyes looked down at her. Shane sat beside her, washcloth in his hand. Roane spoke first though, "What happened?"

"Ryder went to the kitchen to make some food; I went to the study to find some books to help us plan. I got distracted and then realized I hadn't heard him. So, I went to the kitchen to find him but he was gone. Jasper left a note staked to the counter with an athame. Then I had a vision." Storm closed her eyes, replaying the vision in her head, not sure how it fit. She opened her mouth to relay the details when a howl shattered the silent night.

"The hybrids are here." Without opening her eyes to look at him, she somehow knew that Lucian smiled at the prospect. In fact, she found it possible to read the emotions of everyone around her, not so much their thoughts as she could with Ryder though powerful nonetheless. Kell and Pollux had been focused on sexual energies but abruptly changed gears to mirror Lucian's impulse to fight. Storm opened her eyes, her body suddenly very alert to the threats around them, and surprisingly aware of how many hybrids approached.

"Half a dozen are moving through the orchard, two dozen are coming through the front gate, and there are nine attempting to break in through the back door of the garage." They all looked at her. Dan opened his mouth and then closed it. Roane nodded toward Lucian and the Scots who crept out the bedroom door. Dan released his wings and flew through the hole she'd blown Ryder through.

"Go, seraph. I will defend her. The shield of this room will help me protect her. You will be more useful out there, you know I have the right of it." Roane sat cross-legged on the bed near her feet. Shane nodded at him and then stood.

"Babe, take care of yourself." Releasing his wings, Shane flew off after his brother.

Storm looked at her grandfather. "He has Ryder. I want him back."

"I know. You cannot kill him, Storm. I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself so that he can win by default. I will go for Ryder." Roane stretched his legs and leapt off the bed in a smooth motion.

"You cannot kill him either. I will not lose the only family I have left. There is another way." Storm looked to her grandfather.

"Storm, he is mad. My son has lost his mind, he must be put down. There is no alternative."

"Yes, there is. I saw it. The whole vision did not make sense, but part of it did. I know what to do." Storm pushed back the blankets and stood facing Roane. "I think it is time I meet my grandmother."

Ryder

Ryder stood there for a long time, trying to release himself and planning dozens of ways to torture his captor. Jasper remained unconscious on his table of torturous tools. He had to give the anomaly a little credit for getting a leg up on an Immortal, especially a former enforcer, but it ended there. Ryder seethed.

"Wake up you piece of shit." No response.

Ryder closed his eyes and reached out for Lucian. He touched his friend for a moment and knew the Immortals were engaged in battle with Jasper's hybrids. No help there. Hopefully somebody stayed with Storm, one of the seraphs at least. No, Roane likely refused to leave her side. He reached out for Roane and Storm, hoping they were together, but ran into a mental wall of golden light. What in Hades was she up to?

Storm

Storm felt a tickle on her conscious but brushed it away. She knew who it came from and he needed to be patient. Roane felt it too, she saw it in is face at the same moment but they pushed through. Storm had learned basic summoning spells as a child but she'd only used it for art supplies and books. Summoning a deity proved to be more difficult as it turned out, even with her grandfather's aid. Standing in the middle of her kitchen, holding his hands and surrounded by a circle of salt, Storm chanted and used Roane's memories of Damarra to call on her. The warmth of their combined power enveloped her like a swaddled infant.

A bright white light emerged between Storm and her grandfather. She watched it take shape, growing and stretching until a lovely woman stood before her smiling broadly.

"Hello, Storm." Her voice like tinkling bells sounded childlike and ancient all at once. Auburn locks, much like Storm's, flowed down past her waist and the diaphanous emerald gown contrasted her peaches and cream complexion. Storm released Roane's hands and took a step back. "You are lovelier than I ever dreamed, granddaughter. I have watched you grow and move about this world with such purpose. I met you once, when you were in Ireland. You seem so much warmer now."

Storm exhaled, realizing she'd been holding her breath. Wow, that's a lot of information to process on top of the fact she actually summoned her grandmother from wherever the Tuatha De resided. Emotion surged through her and Storm found herself babbling, spilling everything actually. "I – well – I don't know how to begin. When did I meet you? I don't remember you. My aunt died so her binding spell broke and my emotions were released and now my father has my Immortal and wants me to turn myself over to him so that he can kill me so that he can take back the power he thinks I stole from him somehow but I don't even know how to do that and I don't want to die." Once Storm started, everything came out so fast and then her grandmother's arms were around her accompanied by a sense of complete serenity. Damarra withdrew some and looked her over.

"There, that's better. You have some work to do on controlling those emotions of yours." She registered the other figure in the circle and frowned. "Hello, Roane."

"Damarra, it is lovely to see you again." Roane's eyes flashed silver; Storm figured it must be a trait of the Immortals.

"Of course it is dear, they all do it, except Lucian but he is a wee bit different." Damarra winked and projected into Storm's head, This is our way, dear. Part of my gift to you. When you care deeply enough for somebody it will be possible to commune in such a way. Sorry for eavesdropping, it just happens sometimes.

That explains a lot. Storm realized just how much she had to learn. Ryder first. She needed him.

Damarra looked at the salt circle, whirled her hand around and the salt cleaned itself up, vanishing into the garbage can. "That's better. So my son has your lover, my dear? That simply will not do. He only existed to allow you to be born. It seems he has lost his purpose and gone a wee nutty."

"I'm sorry, run that by me again?" Storm's head started to spin. No way did she hear that right.

"Which part, dear?" Damarra looked around the kitchen, absentmindedly responding to Storm. "This room is fascinating. Appliances have changed again, they are so sleek now."

"Damarra, I think our granddaughter has not been as educated as we'd hoped." Roane rolled his eyes and smiled at Storm. "Perhaps you could just give her the short version?"

"Well, didn't you read the journal, dear? You should have had that on your eighteenth birthday." Damarra ran her fingers over the handles on the refrigerator doors and opened one. She laughed, "How marvelous this all is. I need to visit modern times more often."

Storm sat on a bar stool and clutched the counter. "I ran away at seventeen."

"Well that was silly, dear. You were safe here. Your aunt had the journal and knew how to protect you. She would have given you the journal and trained you in the ways of the Emerald and when the Immortal came you would have fallen in love, healed the rift, and taken your destined place in this world. Easy enough. I do not understand where things went awry." Damarra walked over to the sink and turned it on and off. She looked up at Storm and smiled. "It matters not I suppose. Do you love the Immortal, dear?"

Dammit. It had been hard enough to confess her feelings to Ryder but to admit them to the grandparents she'd just met, well, that's a different story all together.

"I will take that as a 'yes.' Then everything is as it should be. Let's go collect your lover, shall we? We can answer all of your other questions once your course has been righted again." Damarra smiled. Storm wasn't sure what to make of her but it didn't seem to matter. Her grandmother slipped an arm around her waist and hugged her close. "You will get used to my ways, I assure you. Come along, dear, it will all work out."

Damarra led Storm across the kitchen. As an afterthought she looked back to Roane, "It is good to see you as well, Roane. Care to come along and right a few wrongs?"

"Of course." Storm thought he had more to say but her grandfather simply smiled and followed them out of the kitchen. He loved her still. Storm didn't know how she knew but it was very clear. Damarra leaned in and whispered in her ear "It is our way, dear. You can read emotions."

Never in her wildest dreams could Storm have pictured herself standing on the front stoop, arm in arm with her grandparents, an Immortal and a deity. They stepped into the middle of a raging supernatural battle. Dan and Shane were flying around with flaming whips taking the hybrids down by their legs so the Immortals could finish them off. Damarra released Storm's arm and gave her a light pat, "Watch this, child."

Damarra walked into the middle of the fracas and extended her arms in front of her. "Cease." Her voice reverberated through the night and all activity stopped. Damarra turned back to Roane and Storm, brushed her hands and winked, "Why do males always feel the need to solve everything with violence? It really never works, I mean, who can think with all of that noise and look at your poor lawn, to say nothing for that second story window."

Storm flushed, how embarrassing, "I may have done that to the window." Apparently, Ryder had healed from it alright, judging by their foray in the study, but she supposed she would have to make that up to him as well.

"In that case, well done, child." Damarra nodded approvingly, "Let's see that power of yours, I need to know what I am working with since you haven't been appropriately trained."

"You want me just to summon it? To do what?"

"Why not repair your lawn? You need to practice controlling it and show these hybrids who you are." Damarra gestured to Roane to step back a bit, "Give our granddaughter some room, Roane. I want to see what she can do."

Dammit. All eyes on her and she just wanted to be back in the study with Ryder. Then it came, no anger or frustration, it just welled inside her as she replayed their foray from earlier, his hands on her hips, lips tracing her jawline, Ryder moaning. Storm could see his face, eyes flashing silver in the firelight, hair in disarray as he cried out her name. She glowed, golden light surrounding her entire being. Storm imagined the lawn fixed and it repaired itself. She considered the window but thought better of it, no use showing off. Storm pulled the power back in, realizing she could indeed control it.

"See, that was not so hard. Well done, dear." Damarra wrapped her arm around Storm's waist. "Let us go handle your father." Damarra frowned for a moment and then smiled again. "He is not far, shall we walk, dear?"

"What about the hybrids? We can't just leave them here." Storm looked at the handful of survivors who were quietly trying to sneak away. She couldn't have them running off to warn her father.

"That's easy." Damarra looked at the hybrids and smiled, "Hybrids, children of my child, join us and earn your freedom."

Ryder

Jasper started to moan. He moved around a bit.

"Get up you piece of shit." Ryder had lost his patience a while back. "I hope a few of those toys of yours drew blood. Now get up and get me out of these chains."

Jasper stood up, clearly more than a bit woozy, and then spun around to face Ryder. "Why would you do that? Without me you can't get out of those chains."

"Well, see, now that is where you are mistaken. I know a very talented group of magic folk and I am certain they could break this –"

"No, no they couldn't. My blood went into the spell and only my blood can undo it, with the correct incantation, of course." Jasper grinned, "So you see, it would be a shame to kill me before I can free you. I will free you if my daughter comes through."

"What is stopping us from killing you and re-working your magic? It doesn't even make sense, Jasper."

"Oh, but it does make sense. You see, only my kin may pass through the doorway to this room and I am certain my daughter does not have the know-how to break my spell. Even if she did, Storm would have to kill me to free you and her life would then be forfeit." Jasper plucked a small scalpel from his chest, sized it up, and returned it to the table. "You see, I have thought everything out quite nicely. Now, what shall we remove first? Perhaps a forefinger? I am certain you will miss that."

"I am actually quite partial to my forefinger. I believe your daughter is as well." Ryder just had to get him close enough to get a hand on the anomaly. Jasper made one error, telling Ryder that it would require all of his blood to break the spell. It was clear the anomaly had no intention of ever letting Ryder go so the Immortal had nothing to lose. At least he could make Storm safe again. Maybe they could find a way to break the spelled chains if Ryder killed Jasper instead. "She seemed particularly partial to my forefinger earlier today in her study. Of course, I suppose that as far as parts go, there are other ones that pleased her more." Ryder knew Jasper caught his meaning when he tensed and turned slowly back around. His eyes narrowed slits and scalpels in both hands.

"What did you just say, Immortal?"

"I said that your daughter truly enjoyed my presence in her study earlier today, and in her dining room yesterday. She is rather exceptional in that capacity." Ryder masked his face as if he were reliving the experiences though he didn't dare to actually picture them. "She sort of glows golden when she climaxes. Truly a stunning sight."

"You did not mate with her. That is impossible. She cannot find males attractive. I saw to that." Jasper turned back to the table and set the instruments down, reorganizing those that had been disrupted.

"I am positive she is attracted to me, Jasper. Perhaps I should ask your permission to court her? Is that the way of things, though it seems pretty belated at this point." Ryder noted that the tips of his ears had gone slightly pink. He needed to push further.

"Do not push me, Immortal. She is not attracted to you. Nothing happened."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night Jasper. I mean, if believing your little girl is still a virgin helps you get through this then by all means, believe away. However, I will keep on picturing how sweet her ass felt in my hands as I had her up against the bookcase."

"That's enough. Keep your perverted fantasies to yourself." Jasper's voice took on a strange high-pitched quality. Ryder definitely had him riled up; the tension in the room had become palpable. Still, Jasper remained at his table, well out of Ryder's reach.

"Not fantasies, though I have plenty of fantasies I will live out with her once you are dead." Ryder pictured her face, her lovely face and longed to see her once more.

"Shut your mouth." Jasper slammed his hand on the table causing a few pieces to scatter, clattering on the floor with a noise that echoed through the room. Ryder grinned, help had arrived.

Storm

Storm heard the voices before she saw the lit doorway. Damarra and Roane flanked her followed by the other Immortals who were in turn followed by the hybrids. Dan and Shane flew overhead, whips at the ready. It felt strange, like walking to war. Ryder's voiced echoed into the night and when she realized what he said her face flushed.

"Well dear, I would say the Immortal is quite taken with you." Damarra nodded approvingly.

"He is just trying to rile the anomaly." Lucian put a hand on her shoulder and keeping his voice low added, "Do not judge him by this."

"I know, I can hear his thoughts. He knows we're here. He's trying to tell me something about a blood spell. Any idea what that means?" Storm stopped and looked at her grandmother who'd taken to humming a tune.

"Bloody hell." Lucian's eyes flared and Storm saw the fire within, understanding washing over her. Damarra cut into her thoughts, Focus. We will discuss Lucian later, dear.

"What am I missing? What is a blood spell and why is it bad?" It was becoming rather irritating to discover just how ignorant she remained in the ways of supernaturals. After all her travels there seemed to be volumes of knowledge she lacked – all of which would be immensely useful at present.

Lucian had walked away, his fists clenching and unclenching rapidly as he muttered to himself. One of the Scots stepped forward, she couldn't be sure which, "A blood spell likely means that none of us can enter with you. Jasper must have cast a spell that would allow only his blood to enter, that means you, Storm."

"Not true. I think it is time for a family reunion." Storm smiled broadly and sent a quick message to Ryder and grabbed her grandparents' hands. "Guys, stay here, just in case he tries to run."

Storm led her parents around the back of the dilapidated meat packing plant. She focused solely on Ryder and told him to duck.

Ryder

Heat flared inside him as Storm's voice reverberated through his head. The wall opposite him blasted inward as he curled into a ball, avoiding the brunt of the flying debris. Jasper stood far enough to the side that he too remained largely unscathed. When Ryder stood he saw Storm glowing golden and very clearly in the throes of rage, her eyes even flashed gold and all her fury seemed to be directed at Jasper who simply looked shocked. No, he looked past her at the couple entering the room just behind Storm. Roane nodded at Ryder casually and the woman who entered beside him smiled warmly in his direction.

"Hello, Immortal. I apologize for my son's foolish actions. This is not how it was to be." She turned and glared at Jasper, the calming tone of her voice switching as rapidly as her expression. "Really, did you think you would get away with this?"

"Mother, I – how – I – what -?" Ryder stifled a snigger as Jasper briefly stumbled over his words like a child. He quickly regained composure and seized a large scalpel from the table. "Hello, mother, it is good to see you after all this time. I am pleased you have come to witness my triumph."

"Silence. You sound like a wee child, so foolish and selfish. And you wonder why the Tuatha De banished you. It is a good thing you managed to bed the Sullivan Seer or your life would have been worthless." The woman continued to move forward, pure fury etched on her face. "Honestly, do you think the Tuatha De will allow you to live now? They foretold of the Emerald long before Celine, you knew your purpose from the time you could speak. You have only succeeded in making her stronger and angrier. What did you think would happen? You cannot fight destiny, Calibos."

Ryder noticed that Storm had been inching toward him, never taking her eyes from Jasper or letting down her defenses; her hands and arms still glowed brightly. Wait, did the woman just say Calibos? That would mean – no – oh Hades. Damarra? Storm nodded up to him, a slight flush rose to her cheeks making her even lovelier.

"Do not call me that. My name is Jasper. I am not going back there, Mother. I do not want to die." Jasper sneered and faced Storm. "You cannot break his bonds, silly girl. Thank you for moving away from your shields, though. Don't worry, it won't hurt – much." Jasper reached to the table and grabbed an athame, but as he cocked his arm to throw Ryder heard a jingle of chains and a low growl.

******************************************

"Pac Man!" Storm screamed out for her dog as he leapt toward Jasper and tore into his shoulder before her father could react to the attack. The athame fell to the floor and skidded across the room. Storm heard a sick crunch followed by a yelp of pain. Pac Man withdrew, trotted over to where she stood and sat before her. Her vision of Pac Man, she'd almost forgotten.

"Good boy! That's a good boy." Storm knelt down and rubbed his ears. Normally he would have kissed her face but instead Pac Man just looked at her, his muzzle stained with Jasper's blood. He nuzzled her chin with the top of his head and ran off through the hole in the wall. Storm hoped he'd be waiting for her at home.

Jasper lay on the floor the hole at his shoulder bleeding profusely and the arm itself lay a foot or so away. Her father appeared to be reaching for it with his remaining hand. Roane crossed over his son's body and kicked the arm aside.

"No use letting it reattach, son. I do not believe you will need it anymore." Roane crouched beside Jasper. He grabbed Jasper's chin and forced his acknowledgement, "Know Storm will always be protected by the Immortals. Know that she will live a long full life with children of her own and a happiness and peace you have never understood. Know that your curse on me will be broken and all you have attempted to do will disappear when you do."

Jasper started to cackle, more of a creepy croaking sound, "Not everything, the Immortal will never be free. If I go, he will stand there for eternity."

Damarra crossed to Jasper and knelt beside him, quite careful to avoid getting any blood on her gown. She traced a finger along the side of his face. "I think you will find that you are not so brilliant as you believe. You cast a lovely shield about this building, true, but you failed to account for non-human creatures and it cost you an arm. I am certain that the Immortal is quite stuck in place, however, I am equally certain that you left a small loophole in that spell. You are too careless. Now, why don't you tell me what spell you used and save yourself some pain, Calibos."

"I will not, Mother. She does not win. She took my power and my immortality. I want it back."

Storm looked down at her father, wounded and helpless, but she could only feel contempt. He wished her dead, her own father. Again she longed for the days when she couldn't feel. Storm didn't want to care that her father wanted her dead and had worked so hard to accomplish it himself. Something else registered as she ruminated.

"Wait, what was that about taking your immortality?"

"See, she doesn't even know what she has! Just another stupid woman like her mother. The whole line was useless." Jasper's color faded, a sickly ash color.

"Enough. This is useless. You were never even destined to be immortal. You only managed to extend your life through black magic and to what end? Calibos, my son, you were always a means to an end. I am sorry but that is the way of things. Now, let's figure out what you did." Damarra placed her palm on Jasper's forehead, a slight silvery web surrounded his head and then dissipated. "Just as I thought, a loophole. Foolish boy."

Damarra stood and brushed her hands and gown off. Jasper had gone limp. Storm realized her grandmother had left him unconscious.

"Oh, yes, I suppose I did. It matters not. I simply did not wish to hear him blathering on anymore." She turned to face Storm. "Do not look so surprised dear, I ceased caring for my son when he turned from his rightful path. You became my priority and I am, as I always have been, bound by destiny. It cannot be changed, adjusted in some ways yes, but some things cannot be altered."

"So I was always to be with Ryder? Like we had no choice in the matter?" Storm felt even more perplexed. How could she buy into such an idea? No choice? She really needed to read that journal.

Shaking her head, Damarra walked over and linked arms with Storm. "Yes, yes you do. Everything you need to know is in there. For now, let's get your Immortal free and then I am afraid I will have to leave for a while. The Tuatha De, are waiting for your father and they grow ever so impatient for creatures with no real sense of time."

Damarra gave her a squeeze and knelt before Ryder's chains. "Alright, dear, grab your father's limb, we need the blood." As the goddess began chanting a thin veil of blue energy materialized along the entire length from the ring in the floor to the shackles at his ankles. Storm plucked her father's severed extremity from the dusty floor, ignoring the flies that had already swarmed and the blood that dripping on her shoe. Gross. She held it by the forefinger and presented it to her grandmother.

"Oh no, dear. You have to do this, not me. Your father overestimated his power and underestimated your attraction to your Immortal. When you mated you formed a unique bond that Calibos failed to account for. See, foolish, always so foolish. Eh, well, he never believed that certain things were predestined. It is a shame you missed out on bedding those lovely seraphs though. Your father was very naughty to bespell you like that."

"I'm sorry, this is just a bit surreal. Could we not discuss my love life or lack thereof right now?" Storm looked at her grandmother with the most reproachful look she could muster. "I mean, like you said, it all worked out in the end."

"Oh, do not be so conservative, dear. It is clear you two have been together, and you have to admit that the seraphs are quite attractive. Now, stop stalling and do as I instruct."

Ryder

He had a lot of catching up to do. As Storm worked on his bonds, Ryder watched her grandparents working on Jasper's unconscious form.

"Could you please clear your head, I keep hearing your thoughts and it is disrupting me." He could not help flashing an image of them together in the study before blanking his mind once again. Storm flushed for a second and he stifled a chuckle. "I could just leave you here if you like." Ryder stayed silent until the chains cracked open. He wasted no time pulling Storm to her feet and slanting his mouth over hers. Her hands found their way to his hair and her tongue slid into his mouth forcing a moan out.

"Eh-hem." Roane's throat clearing ended their embrace before Storm things could advance much further. "Do you mind not doing that here?"

"Roane, when do you become so prudish? If I remember correctly, we showed little regard for others back in our day." The woman, smiled coyly at Roane. How mind-blowingly peculiar.

"She is our granddaughter, Damarra, it seems uncouth." Roane sighed and then laughed; a complete shock to Ryder who had never really seen the man smile. His laughter seemed rich and full, so unlike his creepy voice. "Ryder, do not look so surprised. I have not always been so sour, that was merely a byproduct of my son's curse and centuries without my love."

"I'm sorry, but what curse?" Storm must have plucked the question from his mind. He looked down at her and she shrugged in response. This mind-reading connection could be frustrating.

"He tried to prevent me from ever experiencing joy but it went wrong because he was inexperienced at the time, maybe twelve or thirteen. Needless to say, I have gone around with that irritating voice and limited range of emotion for centuries. As he fades, so does his magic." Roane shrugged and turned to Damarra, "Besides, Damarra still affects me as much as she always has."

"Ryder, take care of our Storm. I will return so we can get to know each other better but right now we have to be going." She turned to face Roane, "They will grant you entrance to the pyre to offer your charges and say your farewells but then you must leave again. Do you wish to return here?"

Roane looked sheepishly at Storm, "Would it be alright if I returned to your home? I mean, I don't need to stay with you, but I would like to see you when I am done."

Storm walked toward Roane. "You are quite welcome to stay with me. I have plenty of room and it is fully furnished. It is the least I can do. You are the only family I have left."

Roane smiled broadly and looked to Ryder. What could he say? Ryder nodded in agreement. He learned already that Storm would have her way whether he liked it or not.

"It is settled, Roane shall be returned to the manor when our business is concluded." Damarra smiled at Storm, "I will be back as well, dear. I hope you have room for me." She winked and disappeared in an explosion of water drops taking Jasper with her.

"That woman always did have style." Roane smiled and then he too disappeared in a splash.

Storm turned around so he could see her face, glittering with magical water droplets. "Well, that was interesting. We'd better head out, I am dying to get home." She dusted off her hands on her pants and took his hand, interlacing their fingers. A jolt of electricity shot up his arm and he instantly imagined her naked. "You are really going to have to get some control of that reaction, it is disconcerting to see myself naked all the time."

"Then stop reading my mind, already." Ryder frowned.

"If only I could. It is part of our love bond so you are just going to have to get used to." Storm turned and headed toward the hole she'd blasted in the wall.

"Wait, what did you just say?" Ryder tugged her back toward him. Storm looked up, her eyes sparkling with life. She leaned up and kissed him deeply until he could barely breathe. His entire body flared with desire for her.

"I love you. Don't make me say it again today. I am tired and I just want to go home, shower, and have a glass of wine." She turned again toward the hole in the wall. Damarra popped into the spot right before her.

"Hurry back, dear. Your Aunt Trin is desperately worried after you." And then she disappeared again, minus the water droplets this time.

"Don't say it, Ryder. I know they are strange. I get it. But they are all the family I have left." Storm tugged at his arm again. "Let's go, please, this place gives me the willies."

Storm

Stepping out of the shower, Storm listened for Ryder's thought pattern, he still seemed engrossed in discussion with Lucian and the other Immortals. Roane had not returned yet but she got the impression they were waiting for him, not that she minded. Storm had spent a few hours with her aunt at the Soul Mirror. It felt wonderful to talk freely with her again. They cried a good deal and Storm had been able to extract her for a few moments to embrace once more. At least she could talk to Aunt Trin whenever she liked.

Storm's stomach grumbled loudly and Pac Man lifted his head to look at her. "You're such a good boy. I think we'll drive into town tomorrow and get you some good treats. What do you think, boy?" He stood and rubbed against her legs, nuzzling her hand with his head and then gave a quick lick before trotting off through her open door.

"Are you decent, babe?"

Storm whirled to the hole in her bedroom to find Shane and Dan peeking in at her. She put her hands on her hips and frowned, "Would it matter if I weren't?"

"Nah, I suppose not. Could we come in?"

Storm nodded, not quite certain Ryder would appreciate the guys back in her bedroom, but she'd deal with that later. "What's up guys?"

"We just wanted to check on you before we left." Dan looked down at her, his wings flapping gently.

"What do you mean? You can't leave." Dammit. People really needed to stop leaving, it was starting to piss her off.

"Sorry, babe. It's the deal. We do our protection detail and then get reassigned. We count ourselves lucky that we stayed with you for so long, it is not always the case." Shane looked sad and then broke into that cocky grin of his, "But it warms my heart to know you will miss me, babe."

"You two have been my friends for years. Where do you go next? I mean, can I know that? Can I keep in touch with you? How does this work?"

"We will check in from time to time, don't worry. Can't tell you where we're going though, you know, seraph secrecy and all, but it won't be as fun as it's been with you." Dan leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek. Shane pulled her up in a bear hug and then set her down.

"Take care of yourself, babe. We expect great things from you. And take it easy on Ryder; he is a good guy, even for an Immortal." Shane winked and they flew off out the window.

Storm stood in the middle of her room, hugging herself for a while. It still amazed her that a person's life could change so drastically in a matter of days. She didn't turn when Ryder entered but let him sneak up on her. Storm relaxed into his embrace and smiled as he nuzzled his head into her neck.

"Is anybody staying here tonight?"

"No, Storm. They are going back to my home. Roane has not returned yet though and I suspect he will stay." His voice sounded muffled. He pulled back some and moved her hair away allowing his lips free access to her neckline and collar bone.

"Are you staying?" She tried to keep her tone level but a hint of desperation escaped followed by a soft moan. Dammit. So much for cool and collected. Then again, his thoughts were far naughtier than hers. Yep, he would definitely be staying over.

*******************************

Epilogue - Ryder

Ryder closed the ledger on his desk. "Come in, Angeline."

"Sir, I believe everything is in place. The packages are set to be delivered on Friday and your clothes are packed. I will make sure that things are ready when you return." Angeline smiled, all the way to her eyes, "Does Storm know yet?"

"No, and I am looking forward to the surprise. Thank you again for handling everything." Ryder stood and walked over to his assistant. He had not told her about the telepathic bond they shared, just asked her to plan their honeymoon secretly. Ryder stretched a hand out, decided against it and embraced her lightly instead.

Angeline's face registered brief surprise when they parted but she quickly replaced it with a smile. "Would you like to know where you are going now?"

"No, I think we will both be surprised. I trust you, Angeline." Ryder moved toward the door but turned back briefly, "Lucian is a good man, Angeline, he will treat you fairly."

She flushed for a moment, "I know, my liege- I mean Ryder. We will be well enough here. Rosalee is staying on as well, though I think she is a bit sore that you opted to hire a new housekeeper."

"That is all Storm's doing, Angeline. She does not wish to have a housekeeper right now and I am quite alright with that. Please tell Rose that I will contact her if things change." Ryder nodded and left Angeline alone in his study. He walked the long hall to his main entrance and scooped up the two bags Angeline had left for him at the door.

"Did you really think you could slip out without saying good-bye to us?" Lucian's voice echoed down the length of the hall. Ryder turned to see Lucian, Kell, and Pollux striding toward him.

"No, I, well, the driver is waiting and we apparently have a flight to catch." Truthfully, Ryder had hoped to slip out and avoid one of his least favorite customs.

"Oh, I think he was trying to avoid this, Lucian. Our Ryder hates this part." Pollux smirked and withdrew a needle and ink from behind his back. "Where do you want this one?"

"I had not thought about it yet. I figured it would wait until I returned, I mean, I have not even told her about this yet and I –"

"Brother, you were trying to avoid. How have you explained the others?" Lucian frowned, "She knows about the others, right?"

"Yes and no. She knows that I have had other wives but not about the ink. I do not think she has put it together." Ryder shrugged and moved for the door. In truth, she asked about them once or twice but he did not go into details about their true meaning.

"You have until you return. Be ready with your design and you'd better tell her." Lucian hushed Pollux when he tried to protest. "If you do not return here within twenty four hours of landing I will personally track you down and lay whatever I damn well please on your stomach so that Storm can enjoy that sight. Believe me, my work is not as pretty as Pollux's."

The Scots laughed as they took turns hugging him farewell. "Later Ry, have a great time. We'll be around when you get back as we agreed." Pollux led Kell down the hall, the pair disappeared into the training room before Ryder turned to face Lucian.

"Thank you for this. She is new to our ways, new to our life. I am not sure what she will think of it."

"It doesn't matter, Brother. It is still our way." Lucian's eyes flashed flame for a moment and then returned to their natural state.

"How are you holding up? It seems your problem has gotten worse. Angeline fears she is not sufficient for your needs and Rose says there has been a lot of blood in the training room." Ryder knew there was more to it, he'd seen more of the flame lately himself.

Lucian clapped him on the shoulder and took one of the bags, "Do not worry about me, Brother. Enjoy your woman and when you get back we will talk. Thank you for allowing me to stay on here. I will try my hand at this, for the sake of the Emerald and our friendship. Understand that it may not stick."

"I understand. I will be glad to have you here. Especially now, I do not know how the council will take Storm or her news." Ryder and Storm had agreed to keep things quiet for the time being, for very different reasons. She did not want people to think they married because of her condition. He had far darker concerns, besides the council there were several supernatural factions who would be gunning for Storm just for being the Emerald. If they found out she was with child - Ryder suppressed a shudder.

Lucian looked at him, "Brother, she is safe. They will both be fine. I assure you. No mother-to-be has been more thoroughly protected than your Storm will be. Please, enjoy your woman and we will worry about everything else when you return. Nobody knows yet, we will keep it that way as long as possible."

"Thank you, Lucian."

"Anytime, Brother." Lucian opened his mouth and then closed it. Ryder knew there was more.

"Just ask."

"Are you going to ask her? I mean, are you going to have her strip it from you?" Lucian stared at him, a rather earnest expression on his face, more than unusual.

"I honestly do not know." Ryder shrugged. He truly had not decided. He thought about the prospect for so long but now it seemed the farthest thing from his mind. They walked silently to the limo. Lucian studied him as the driver opened the trunk.

"Don't do anything rash, brother." Lucian dropped the suitcase in the trunk, tipped the driver, and clapped Ryder on the shoulder once more before heading back to the house. Ryder shrugged and passed his other bag to the driver.

The drive to Willow Wood went fast and he found Storm in the study staring into the hearth flames. Her auburn hair shimmered in the firelight. Ryder did not think he would ever grow tired of just watching her.

"Yes you will. When I am fat and swollen." Storm turned to look at him, circles under her lovely emerald eyes.

"You will still be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." Ryder walked over to her and knelt. He took her hands to his lips and smiled, "Storm, you can read my thoughts, lovely. You know what I think of you."

"It is still nice to hear you say it." Storm smiled, that sexy, sarcastic smirk that drove him wild.

"I will always say it." Ryder kissed her hands once more. "Are you ready?"

"Where are we going?"

"I honestly have no idea. Angeline planned it all. Damarra packed your belongings according to Angeline's instructions and we have a flight in an hour and a half. That is all I know." Ryder smiled up at his wife, frustration played out across her face. "Gotcha. Now, let's go."

As they slid into the back of the limo, Storm started giggling. She paused and pointed at a speaker, Ryder got it. He wrapped an arm around her gently shaking body and smiled as Jim Morrison's throaty voice surrounded them.

Stay tuned for the next installment in the Emerald Seer Series –

Light My Fire

The saga continues with Storm Sullivan delving into her past in the midst of an unheard of pregnancy, Ryder contemplating mortality while protecting his new family, and Lucian's inner flame comes to light. Can he save the Emerald and himself?

About the Author

Violet Patterson lives in Washington State with her family. She grew up in the Midwest and attended college there before starting her family and moving to the Pacific Northwest. Violet works full time in an office but has aspirations to open a bakery. To that end, she keeps busy preparing recipes, writing, and playing with her children.

Ryder on the Storm is Violet Patterson's first release.

Blog: http://emeraldseer.blogspot.com

Twitter: booksbyviolet

