“That was a fluke and you know it.” Adrian spoke quietly, holding her gaze so hard it was crushing. Layla saw him hitch a breath as something inside him died a little. Reaching out, he stroked his knuckles over her cheek, his blue-green eyes beautiful in their sadness. “I want to solve this for you, Layla, god knows I do. My heart has been twisting constantly ever since Deep Harbor, that I’ve been useless to you. But in light of what just happened outside, even I can see there’s only one way to fight Hunter now. You need to figure the ether out, so you have at least some kind of protection against his shit. And then get your Dragon back online so we can all fight as a group again. Not fractured like we currently are.”
“I know.” Layla spoke honestly, as another tear coursed down her face. “But I don’t even know where to start with this deep rift I’m facing between my human mind and my Dragon’s desires, Adrian. It just… it goes right to the foundation of who I am. Or who I think I am.”
“I know.” Adrian spoke quietly as he watched her. “I can feel how deep you’re churning inside, even without our Bind active. I love you, and I can see how much pain you’re in, battling against whatever you’re hiding. Though I want more than anything to solve this situation for you… I know you’re still hiding some deep truths even from yourself. And I don’t think our Binds to you or your Dragon will ever truly return until you can face them.”
“I want to understand why I keep banishing my drakaina.” Layla hitched a breath as her heart clenched in misery. “But I don’t even have total clarity on it myself yet.”
“And you need to get that clarity. Only through total clarity will you find your fullest strength.” Adrian spoke solemnly, understanding in his gaze now as if he’d had his own battles with his drake over the years. Nodding to the little white cube still in Layla’s hand, he spoke again. “Heathren gave that to me personally, to be used only in an emergency, and it can get you to him at once. You need only speak his name while holding the cube and you will travel to him immediately. It only has enough juice for one person and one trip, so—”
“You can’t come with me.” Layla blinked, a tear shedding down her cheek as she understood what Adrian was offering her. “None of you can. And if I go… I can’t get back. Not right away, at least.”
Adrian nodded, though Layla saw him swallow hard. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek with his hand, brushing away her tear with his thumb. His beautiful green-blue eyes were full of the saddest, most awful emotion Layla had ever seen, and the frustration behind it was endless. As Adrian’s straight dark brows came together in a frown, Layla saw him chew his lip. Flexing his jaw, his eyes filled with tears. Adrian hardly ever cried, and Layla watched him struggle with it now.
As he acknowledged the immense shitshow they were in – and what they had to do to solve it.
At last, Adrian pressed his lips to hers. Corralling Layla sweetly around the neck, he held her there, making her feel how deep his love was for her. All of his immense frustration and anger was in the sigh he heaved as their lips parted. For a moment, he set his forehead against hers, and Layla drank him in, loving him so hard it hurt.
And then he rose. Gazing down at her, Adrian gave an awful smile. “I’ll leave so you can get dressed. If you decide to go—”
But he got no further as Layla quickly rose, coming to him. His hands came up on instinct, cradling her close. Cuddling in, Layla let Adrian enfold her in his strong embrace, as he quietly kissed her shoulder. “I love you.” Layla whispered as he held her. “I want to tell the others goodbye, but—”
“I’ll help them understand.” Adrian spoke firmly as he nuzzled her damp curls. “They won’t like it, least of all Dusk, but explaining it to them will only cause delay. You don’t have time to delay. Not if Hunter can… get inside you like he did just now.”
“I’ll find Heathren,” Layla spoke as she clutched Adrian close. “We’ll figure the ether out, or contact an angelic who can teach me how to use it, I promise. I’ll get my Dragon back, Adrian, I swear I will. And when I do… we’ll go kick Hunter’s ass. For good this time.”
“Good.” Pulling back, Adrian set his lips to her brow, then set their foreheads together. “I love you, Layla Price. Dragon or human, no matter how this thing turns out. Come back to me. Please. That’s all I ask.”
“I will.” Layla spoke with certainty in her heart. Lifting up, she kissed Adrian one last time, indulging in his soft lips. His hands tightened on her as if he didn’t want to let her go. But then with a will, he did. Taking a deep breath, he stepped back, watching her with his devastated golden-aqua eyes but holding himself back with the strength of a battle-lord.
“Contact me as soon as you can, once you reach Heathren. I’ll be waiting.”
With those last words, Adrian turned, moving out quickly through the partition so Layla wouldn’t see him cry. His misery tore Layla apart as she turned, holding the tiny white cube to her heart. But she knew he was right – delaying getting to Heathren was a bad idea, especially if Hunter could invade her like he’d just done out on the patio. Part of Layla had wanted it, but part of her felt violated also, and she didn’t want to know how she might feel if it happened again.
Moving quickly to her suitcase, Layla unzipped it, then donned a beige bra and thong, followed by skinny jeans and a silky boho top with long flowing sleeves in a green, red, and white paisley print. She hadn’t brought boots, so she just rolled the cuffs of her jeans to mid-calf and slipped on her strappy sandals, leaving her curls loose to dry. Sunglasses went on her head, holding her curls back, and Layla added red tassel earrings and a plain gold bracelet rather than anything expensive for her journey, considering she didn’t quite know where she’d wind up.
Reginald’s pearl jewelry set was in Layla’s bag. She paused with her hand on the satin case for a moment, debating wearing them. But Reginald could find her anywhere in the Twilight Realm or human world if she wore them, and he would feel she was getting ready to leave. Her fingers slid from the case, then briskly zipped up her suitcase. Heaving her red leather purse over one shoulder and snatching up her charging cellphone from beside the bed and stuffing it in, she gripped the handle of her rolling suitcase.
And then clenched the little white cube in her fist.
“Heathren Merkami.”
Layla’s heart dropped the instant she said Heathren’s name. Doubt at leaving all her men filled her, as her body flashed through that awful blaze that meant she was traveling through a portal. But it was the same sensation as passing through Realms; and though Layla blinked on the other side, disoriented, her wits gathered quickly as her vision cleared.
She stood in an apartment. A tremendously elegant penthouse apartment in a high-rise building, beautifully appointed with all the finest details. A sprawling open-plan design, the penthouse had vaulted ceilings and a long curved wall with floor-to-ceiling picture windows, heavy clouds darkening the evening sky outside as if they carried rain. Everything was white inside the ultra-modern space; chic white leather couches, fluffy white sheepskin rugs on the ash wood floors in addition to white-on-white Persian silk rugs. Beautiful modern art in swirling whites adorned the walls. If it wasn’t white, it was silver or chrome; the glass coffee tables edged in chrome, sleek planters of silver holding flowers.
And living walls of orchids just everywhere.
Gaping around at the tremendously opulent apartment, Layla stood in the foyer by a set of massive silver doors, etched with intricate filigree like the glyphs in her little cube. But as she took it all in, she suddenly felt a presence surge into the room from one of the far archways. Blazing in from across the apartment in a blinding wave of light, the Intercessor Judiciary Heathren Merkami himself rushed in, leveling a long silver blade at Layla with the most unhingedly furious look she had ever seen. Layla could barely even see the Fallen Ephilohim Archangel as enormous seven-layer wings of dark silver-opal filaments heaved from his back, thundering through half the room with a tremendous menace. Blinding silver-opal light blazed from the Ephilohim, and Layla quickly turned her face aside and threw up a hand.
As a screaming, piercing tone ratcheted up inside the space – deafening.
But then Heathren’s eyes widened; Layla saw surprise take the Archangel’s perfectly sculpted face. Slowly, he lowered his long silver sword until the tip rested against the white ash wood floor, his enormous spread of silver-opal wings lowering also. Though he didn’t put his wings away, his blazing bright-darkness diminished and that screaming whine in Layla’s ears eased. Lowering her hand and breathing hard as her heart thundered from terror, she felt like she’d nearly gotten blasted by a star for arriving wherever she was now.
Unannounced.
“Layla Price! What in everything that’s holy?!” Heathren spoke in his cutting tenor voice as he calmed – though Layla saw his breathing was hard as his piercing white-silver eyes finally cleared of their wrathful light. She had clearly startled the Fallen Ephilohim Archangel, and Layla felt grateful to not be blasted to a million pieces right now as he stared at her in incredulous shock. Layla felt the demand of an Intercessoria Judiciary in his statement, and knew she had to say something, though she also knew Heathren could sense bullshit and lies instantly.
So she said the most honest thing she could, without having a breakdown.
