Exaltation (Insight #11)(34)

Losing her lover was hell on Reveca. Ages later she still wasn’t over it even though she had a new lover, one that had been at her side for some time. Even though they had a family of bikers they fiercely fought with, Jamison always saw pain in Reveca’s fierce gaze.

Jamison’s visit there was exploratory. He wanted to see if Reveca had sensed her first love close, if perhaps there was some way she could awaken him, stop all of this.

Speaking with her, seeing her engaged in both mortal and immortal wars, high on the rush of power told him that just like he feared, she was as blind to Rydell as he was to her.

He spoke to Saige once he left Reveca. The seers of the coven had yet to find a way around the fate before Raven…she was going to have to destroy anyone in her path to accession; Rydell King was in said path.

Jamison didn’t trust that Rydell’s fall would not hurt Reveca in some way, then Saige, that his destruction would not bring down the coven as well.

On top of all of the issues Jamison was dealing with, he could not stop thinking about what Raven had said at their lunch. How upset River was about not knowing who her father was, that she’d asked Emery.

Two things stood between Jamison and Emery. Anger and guilt. He felt guilty for bringing her into this, for ensuring the family she wanted would always be a breath away from danger, would become warriors, legends. Jamison could only assume what Emery’s anger was about because the woman rarely raised her voice, embraced emotion.

She had always strived to be independent, and now she couldn’t be. She needed him to protect their girls, understand the power they would have and how to manage it.

Jamison had given her all the space she needed, granted every wish. At first the space built passion between them, and honestly when she was passionate was the only time he saw the real her—all walls down.

He’d always feared they were avoiding who they were, were letting too much time pass.

Today he was sure of that. Just the idea of River being upset destroyed him. She shouldn’t feel that way. She should know who her father is; even though her conception was not traditional it was still beautiful and guided by fate. She should know her father loves her. River knew Raven’s dad Jamison loved her, but she had no idea she was his, too. That cut Jamison wide open.

Jamison knew if he went to Emery’s they would fight. He didn’t want to fight with her when they had all this added risk lurking. But when he couldn’t stand it anymore he decided that way of thinking was exactly what landed him where he was—divided from his woman, his family.

He could smell the bleach in the air before he ever reached the back stoop, before he opened the door then closed it again. Witches were clean in general, liked to cleanse their homes often, but when Emery was worried or mad she cleaned constantly, obsessively.

When he stepped in the kitchen the first thing he saw were her bare thighs. She was in cotton shorts, on her knees bent forward cleaning out a cabinet under the kitchen counter.

She stopped almost instantly. He saw her hesitate before she fell back on her legs and glanced over her shoulder. Her hair was in a messy bun, and ringlets of curls were brushing against her long neck. The tank she had on was one of his undershirts.

Jamison bit his lip as his eyes moved down her nice and slow. His immortal status, ages of lifetimes, gave him enhanced senses. Right now he sensed her want, her worry, and her anger, each matching his own emotions.

Emery stood slowly. “I thought you were at work.”

Their nights together were rare, even though the girls were teens, young women. Emery still kept the same boundaries in line, them not spending the night with each other. Stolen evenings were hard to come by, too. The girls rarely went out during the week, and on the weekends for the most part Jamison’s business needed his attention.

The way Emery came to him varied over the years. The first two they shared a bed. That stopped when Emery got it in her head the coven would see their love affair as torrid, know the Rapture was coming.

After that, she’d show up on her way home from teaching a few times a week. Sunday afternoons, before all their friends from the coven gathered, they had time together, too. That’s when they were alone. The rest of the time they were ‘friends’ in front of the girls.

It wasn’t enough for Jamison.

“I had to check on something,” Jamison said in a gruff voice as he pulled his suit jacket off, then loosened his tie.

Emery blushed, turning that shade of scarlet of hers he adored.

“I talked to the girls,” Emery said as she broke her stare with him and started to put away all her cleaning supplies.

“And?”

“And River couldn’t seem to care less. Ash asked a million questions. I heard Soren took his talk well.”

Jamison pulled the chair out at the kitchen table faced it in her direction then sat down.

When he didn’t say anything Emery looked over her shoulder at him. “Raven was happy as ever when she came home.”

Silence.

Emery kept rushing through, putting her things away.

“We can’t keep doing this, Emery,” Jamison said in low, dark tone.

Emery froze. He saw her tremble ever so slightly. No doubt he had taken her off guard. Normally he would be telling her all that he had in place to protect the girls, his backup plan to his backup plan.

His tone was unforgiving, one Emery had never heard him direct at her. She turned to face him. All that was between them was the island in the kitchen, but it felt like a million miles.