The Lost Souls (The Holy Trinity #2.5)(16)

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Sorta.”

“So, what happened to your…your caravan?”

“Fat?,” he said, sitting up straight and glaring at her. “Do you ever stop talking?”

Her lips twitched. “I haven’t had anyone to talk to in months.”

Oh. Great. And he was getting the side effects.

“Clan,” he mumbled, leaning back, getting comfortable again. “They’re my clan, and nothing happened to them…at least nothing recently. I left them in Ohio, backtracked to Pennsylvania, got thrown off course because of the storm, and here I am.”

“Why did you come back?”

“Enough questions,” he said and pointed to the stove. “More cooking.”

Looking disappointed, Carrie bit her lip, but thankfully turned around and began slowly stirring the pasta.

Thank f*cking God.

“One more question,” she asked, spinning around.

“What!”

“How do you know that woman? Was she part of your clan?”

“Trinity,” he grumbled. “Her name is Trinity, and she was married to the clan *. Long story short, she got separated from my clan, and the * she married sorta…freaked out. Did some shit he shouldn’t have…with my fiancée.” Marko’s jaw clenched. “And I did something I shouldn’t have. The. Fucking. End.”

“Your eyes are white again,” Carrie whispered.

“Yeah,” he shot back. “Because this shit makes me mad.”

“Maybe talking about it would help.”

He shot up off the couch, wishing he were the kind of * who didn’t have a problem with punching a female in the face. Grabbing his coat and hat, he dressed quickly and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” she asked, her voice shrill, her words laced with panic.

“Gonna see what I can get from your tat? mare’s closet,” he grumbled.

“What’s a tat? mare?” she asked.

Yanking open the door, Marko stepped out into the roaring winds. “Grandfather!” he shouted and slammed the door closed behind him.

Suddenly, freezing to death seemed like the best thing ever.





Chapter Nine


“Your turn, Hockey,” Rachael said, smiling. “Tell us something about your life…before.”

Hockey looked up from his meal and glanced around at the waiting faces surrounding him. He’d made it months without incident by keeping mostly to himself, helping out as much as one man could with as little interaction as possible. But he supposed this was bound to happen sooner or later. After all, the six of them were stuck with one another, at least until winter passed.

“You don’t have to,” Rachael said. “We can move—”

“No,” he said, clearing his throat. “It’s all right.”

What to tell them?

He couldn’t exactly be forthcoming about his clan or the magic they embodied. Anything he told them about his life would have to be an altered variation of the truth. They’d think he was crazy unless he proved it by using his own power. And that could go one of two ways. They either accepted it or they freaked the hell out, and out of fear, tried to kill him. Not having known many Gajes in his life, and just from gauging the personalities of these five people—Mira being the only exception—he found them to be high-strung, easily excitable, and not at all pliable in their opinions. All of which told him they wouldn’t understand what he was and, after finding out the truth, would fear him as much as the creatures they were hiding from. Therefore, he would be keeping both his and the abilities of his clan to himself.

Hockey didn’t want to talk about his family either. Every day he worried about Becki and the baby, his mam? and tat?, his frate and sor?. Even his dreams were riddled with horrifying scenarios of finding his clan, their trailers all burned to the ground and bones scattered around the camp. A baby was always crying off in the distance, but no matter how far he ran in every direction, he couldn’t find it before the crying would suddenly stop and he was left standing alone, surrounded by carnage and deafening silence.

“I’m married,” he said quietly. “She was pregnant when I left her, but she would have given birth by now.”

“If she’s even alive,” Chris muttered, “which is highly unlikely.”

“Shut up!” Mira snapped. “We’re alive, which means others could be, too!”

Hockey didn’t say anything. Chris was right. Becki might very well be dead…or she might be alive and well and safely hidden away under the protection of magic.

“I was married,” Tyler said, thankfully drawing the attention away from Hockey. “Two kids, a dog, no picket fence, but you get the picture.”

“Ty,” Rachael whispered. Turning in Tyler’s lap, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Their relationship had been a recent development, and one that had woken them all up in the middle of the night. The following few days had been awkward for everyone except Hockey; he was used to living in close quarters. He had heard many, many different couples sexually expressing their feelings for each other. He’d initially woken up to the sounds of soft crying and heavy breathing. Knowing exactly what was happening, that no one was hurt or needed his help, he had rolled over and fallen back to sleep. But the rest of them…