Exaltation (Insight #11)(2)
It infuriated him that he’d lived for ages alone, with only the coven he protected, no child of his flesh, no woman he claimed, only to become mortal the instant he needed to live forever. Fate is a twisted bitch, he thought as he tightened his fist and thought once again of the one woman who’d stolen his breath at first sight, the one he knew now he could never have—no, he’d let a demon goddess seduce him…and give him a child. An equal hell and heaven.
He felt powerless in that moment, which was a first.
Saige never answered Jamison’s question. She had no idea how much time he had, she wouldn’t swear to it at least. Saige was nearly sure he would walk away from this unscathed. She, however, would not. Neither would Raine.
Saige trusted her heart, the same heart that forecasted her dark future.
This night had been plotted for some time. It began with Raine invading Saige's dreams and asking for a sacrifice, one Saige agreed to once she realized this request linked to the Rapture she had been waiting on for so long—a Rapture which would eventually free her very own daughter.
Saige caught her reflection in the antique mirror, which hung in the narrow hallway.
Her image had been captured in immorality at the age twenty-five. Her hair was a vibrant blonde, her eyes still sparkled blue even though their base was gray, and her ivory skin easily made her look years younger.
This sacrifice, one she gave Raine when it was requested nearly a year before, would age her twenty-five years. Raine needed a body of that age to carry a child to term.
Saige wondered how much difference those years would make in her appearance. She had never given much consideration to her outward image before. Still, twenty-five years was a lot of time.
Saige envisioned her skin turning gray, her hair silver, deep lines forming around her eyes, drooping shoulders accompanied by an arched back. The mere idea should have made her tremble, but it didn’t. She would look like an old hag if that were what it took to bring her daughter back, to release her from her shadowed existence, an existence Saige had fought to protect her from but failed.
“You understand how important the child is, brother.” Saige emphasized her last word to point out how long she’d been at his side, how much they’d witnessed in this life. What they had been waiting on, preparing for.
Jamison's blue-gray eyes slowly rose to Saige as she went on pacing. “This coven has already sacrificed enough for this Rapture,” he spat, and he meant that. Saige’s twin sister, Reveca, had been through hell. So had Saige. Each original who’d come to this dimension with him had all paid some kind of price.
Saige closed her eyes slightly, feeling the pain of the past and knowing the future would not be any easier, it would be worse.
“You’re a powerful soul, Jamison. Your seeds are everlasting,” Saige said in a whisper. She had been reading deeply into the prophecy her own father had written ages before. She knew how vital Jamison was to not only the Rapture, but also the coven as a whole. He was fierce, but he was also the peacemaker. He could see past the chaos. He was a fallen angel who still had the power of the great beyond within him—a power he would pass on easily to his children…his daughters.
“What have I allowed?” Jamison asked Saige, finally realizing he had reached the point of no return.
“A new beginning.”
“How sure are you?”
“As sure as dreams are.”
Another bellowing scream then a faint cry. Jamison charged through the bedroom door just in time to see Raine hold their child for the first time.
***
On a dark stretch of highway, somewhere in west Tennessee, Rydell King had just reached sixty-two miles per hour in less than eight seconds. He could feel the vibration of a hundred and eighty-five horses under the hood of the 1975 cherry red Firebird.
He’d rebuilt the fifteen year old car from the ground up and was seriously thinking of keeping it all for himself. He rarely gave his gourmet meals up, but this ride was just too sweet. His hands only left the respectable vibration of the steering wheel to turn up the song that was playing: Freebird by Lynyrd Skynyrd.
His one and only passenger and closest friend, Dagen, grinned as he rocked his head to the rhythm and he bellowed, “I can’t change!” This was all too true for the pair of them.
They had long since left their foundation, the home of their sovereign, Revelin, the King of Exaltation, and created their own faction of Escorts. The name they chose for themselves was Helco. Rydell adored how closely that one word resembled ‘hell no’ but nevertheless the word in some way meant ‘handle,’ meaning they were going to handle themselves from this point out. No more orders, no more taking without giving, no more bloodshed, well, not on purpose at least—without merit.
Rydell and those who followed him knew they could survive without bringing the ruthlessness his sire had demanded they invoke. Of course, he knew he was not sinless or noble in his own actions either. He still hurt people, but what soul does not harm life in order to survive? None. Circle of life. Fact.
Even if it weren’t for his Creator-given birthright, Rydell undoubtedly would still be the leader of the Helco faction. The raw energy that rippled off of him demanded authority. Not to mention he had a lethal smile accompanied by a carefree laugh that would put any of his victims at his mercy. Rydell could look like a boyish high school quarterback one second and the very next a powerful businessman shrouded in wealth.