The Elemental Collective: Volume One: An Elemental Paladins Spin-off Series Page 6

  His voice was clipped when he next spoke. “Are you even going to say goodbye to Max?”

  Dana reached for her daughter mentally, quickly cringing when she discovered Max and Ryker were otherwise engaged. “Umm, perhaps you could tell her for me? She is, uh, busy. With Ryker.”

  Mordecai screwed his nose up in disgust. “Oh, by the Goddess! It’s the middle of the day!” Dana could not hold back her giggle and Mordecai shot her an irritated look before he thawed a little, shoulders slumping. “I’ll tell her,” he offered.

  “Thank you,” Dana said, sincerity ringing in her voice. She was not just thanking him for passing on her message to Max. But also for the dance, for his admissions, for the wake-up call, and also for the easing of antagonism between them. She hoped the two small words were enough to portray all that and when she received a small nod in return, she felt relief and the beginnings of true happiness. Perhaps when she returned, things would be different. Perhaps, they could even be friends.

  Chapter Seven

  Mordecai was shaking as he prowled around the outdoor obstacle course of the training lodge. He knew his Order was anxiously waiting for him to allow them to touch him and recharge his vitality. But after using his domain, he often needed space before anything else. He had attended the lodge over ten hours ago, intending to check on some paladins who had lost their liege’s in the battle. Many knights were still lost, finding themselves grief-stricken, ashamed and Orderless. He had been somewhat derelict in his duties because he had been so focused on Max’s Order after she blew herself up. And then they had the Trials for the new IDC, and then the construction. Well, he’d had a lot on his plate. Still, when Blu had come to him and asked if he would help Glenn, Mordecai had felt a rush of guilt. Glenn was the only surviving paladin from Cinder’s Order and he knew the man must be devastated to not only lose his soldier brethren, but also his liege.

  After absorbing much of Glenn’s darker emotions, Mordecai found himself moving from one paladin to another. Many of the adrift paladins were staying at the lodge, having nowhere else to go. The homes of their wardens reverted back to the property of the IDC – as was tradition. That too was going to change, Mordecai knew. Paladins were going to be compensated for their time and they would also be allowed to own belongings and property. But that didn’t help the ones currently grieving and homeless. His skin prickled as dark energy moved around him – and through him – using him as an outlet or a filter. Hurt and pain, grief and loss, needed to be absorbed or it wreaked havoc on the whole world – and not just the person it emanated from. That was his job and also where his domain and that of Life overlapped a little. Pain knifed into his chest and he bent over, breathing through the pain.

  “Mordecai, let us –” Aiden began, only to have Mordecai shove him back. The prickling, writhing element of death was still too near and he wouldn’t risk his paladins. “It’s our job,” Aiden reminded him, frustration clear in his voice, as he read Mordecai’s thoughts. Mordecai ignored him, counting his breaths.

  “It is okay. I have this.”

  Mordecai jerked himself upright and saw Dana placing comforting hands on his paladins as she wove her way through them. They parted like the red sea. Naturally, he thought, snidely. Dana had said she would be gone for a couple of weeks. It had been closer to five. After their little interlude in the hallway, he had thought perhaps they could talk out their differences. Maybe even be friends. But the longer she was away, the more his doubts crept back in and the more his anger returned. She couldn’t be trusted to keep her word. He needed to remember that.

  She stopped only when she was within touching distance of him. When she reached out, Mordecai side-stepped her. “What are you doing here, Dana?”

  “I said I would be back,” came her calm reply.

  Mordecai was shaking so badly now that his teeth were chattering. His vitality was dangerously low, and his temper wasn’t helping the situation. “You said you would be away for two weeks. It’s been over four.” His words sounded like the accusation they were.

  “I know. It could not be helped,” Dana said, ever calm. She reached out a hand again.

  Mordecai snapped, “Don’t touch me, Dana. I mean it.” He was feeling raw and vulnerable, and the last thing he wanted was Dana to know it.

  “It hurts so bad,” Dana murmured, ignoring his snarling words and placing a hand on his chest.

  “It’s supposed to!” he retorted.

  Dana nodded, “Yes. It is. But that doesn’t lessen the burden.” She moved forward and placed her other hand on his opposite pec, warmth spreading from her palms in an outward motion. “My wardens; nature’s warriors. You do me proud. You have ever since you held that frog in your hands and sang to it as it died.”

  Mordecai barely noticed when the cold stopped invading his body and warmth took its place. He was too intrigued by the gorgeous woman staring up at him like he hung the moon. “Frog?” he questioned.

  “You don’t remember? A hawk decided it was going to make the little fellow its meal for the evening, but it accidentally dropped it. You found it on the ground and even though you could not do anything to save it, you still held it as it died. You offered it comfort and peace, and it died knowing it was not alone.”

  Mordecai did recall the incident she was speaking of. He had been perhaps four or five years old. “It was just a frog,” he muttered.

  Dana’s smile was like the sun as she replied, “The shell the soul housed was of no relevance. It was still a soul in need. It was still a soul who was dying. And that is why you felt compelled to take away its pain in its final moments. That is when you and your parents knew for sure you were linked with Death.”

  “Yes,” Mordecai agreed, reaching up and linking his fingers with Dana’s. He was warm all over, the feelings of grief and loss that had bombarded his system for the past ten hours were nothing but echoes now. Dana had taken it all away. “You were watching me even then?”

  Dana shrugged a negligent shoulder. “I was watching everyone. It is kind of what I do.”

  Mordecai felt trapped in her gaze and he moved slowly to cup her face in his palms. “Tell me, Great Mother. Do you ever get tired of watching? Do you ever just want to do?”

  Dana’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh, you have no idea how much I want to do.”

  “I think I do,” he murmured, before lowering his head to hers and covering her lips with his own.

  It was like a galaxy exploded behind his eyelids. Colours and lights filled his vision and his whole body felt like he had been struck by lightning. His body was alive with sensation as the soft mouth beneath his pecked at his lips teasingly a few times before opening and accepting the hungry caress of his tongue. He mapped her mouth, their tongues duelling and stroking, even as his hands gripped her full hips and pulled her forward and up. She gasped when she felt his hardness and he growled, capturing her mouth again and swallowing the sounds of her pleasure. He let his hands roam over the curve of her delicious arse, rubbing it and imagining it red with his handprint.

  “Ah, you might want to hold off on the whole sex thing until you’re behind closed doors.”

  Tobias’s voice penetrated Mordecai’s lust-filled fog, and he pulled back, breathing harshly. Casting a single dirty look at his paladin, he glanced back down at Dana – and nearly came in his pants. Her lips were swollen and shining and deliciously red. Her cheeks were flushed, and her pupils were blown wide. Her breath was coming in short pants, making her breasts push into contact with his chest repetitively. And her glorious hair was in disarray thanks to his hands fisting it. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “I want to sex you up so bad.”

  Dana’s eyes widened and she took a hasty step back. She patted at her hair as if that were going to fix the mess it was in, looking everywhere but at Mordecai. “Uh, we can’t be doing that.”

  Mordecai ignored the raging hard-on he had, amusement creeping in when he observed her obvious embarrassment. “Why not? As I recall, we w
ere rather good at it.”

  Dana coughed, her cream cheeks turning an appealing pink. “It is not that I don’t want … I mean, I want. But … you do not even like me,” she ended, rather lamely.

  Mordecai gestured to the hard length of his dick, clearly outlined by his pants. “I like you just fine.”

  Dana frowned at him. “That is not what I meant. I am not going to sleep with you just because you turn me on. You hate me, Warden.”

  His amusement fled in a second. “I don’t hate you.”

  “Since when?” Dana challenged.

  Mordecai eyed her for a moment before spinning and taking a few deep breaths. It was hard to concentrate when temptation was standing so close to him. And that kiss? It had been explosive. The chemistry he’d told himself had been a lie all those years ago clearly was not. He hadn’t remembered anything incorrectly. It had been the best sex of his long life, and he had no doubt another romp between the sheets with Dana would be just as incredible. But that wasn’t all he wanted from her. Was it? He didn’t actually know, and that meant Dana was right to stop. And to question him. He might not have all the answers, but he did know one thing. He turned back to face her.

  “I don’t hate you, Dana. If I’m being honest, I believe I really did hate you once. I hated myself as well,” he was quick to add. “But I don’t hate you anymore. I don’t hate myself anymore, either.”

  “That …” Dana drew in a deep breath, the beginnings of a smile on her lips. “That is good to know.”

  “Good. Great. Uh …” he rubbed the back of his neck, realising they were indeed very exposed where they were. Thankfully, the only other people outside were his four paladins. But that brought no comfort at all. He was never going to hear the end of this.

  “Maybe you should talk?” Madigan suggested, using his head to gesture toward Dana – who still looked highly uncomfortable.

  “Right. Talking. Good. I can talk. Can you talk?” Mordecai questioned – like a total fucking moron.

  Dana’s smile was genuine and relaxed this time. “I can talk,” she confirmed. “Tomorrow? I have yet to tell Max I am back. I want to see our daughter very much.”

  “Our daughter …” Mordecai mumbled, feeling the truth of those words for the very first time. They shared a daughter together and he knew absolutely nothing about her – other than the fact she was a great kisser and a goddess.

  “Mordecai?” Dana asked.

  He jolted. Hard. “You called me Mordecai.”

  Dana looked confused. “That is your name.”

  “Yes. But you never call me that. You always call me Warden,” he pointed out.

  Dana looked startled for a moment, and then thoughtful. “I suppose I do.”

  “I like it when you say my name,” he said, just for clarification in case it wasn’t obvious.

  Dana smiled, “Then I shall call you Mordecai from here on in.”

  His name on her lips had his dick twitching once again, and he wondered if he was going to regret telling her that.

  Chapter Eight

  Dana blinked a few times, wondering if she had somehow transported herself to the wrong property. The front of Max’s home looked nothing like it had just a month ago. When Dana had last left, the house had been surrounded by trees and rather dense bush on every side. The only clear area had been the driveway and the back of the house – and that was because the back was all beach and ocean. Now, huge areas of trees had been cleared and four smaller log cabins appeared to be emerging from the earth. Dana’s powers burst forth in a rainbow of light as wind swept them from one structure to the next. Each building was being made from the trees that were cleared from their exact locations. Each tree had been asked and was willing to give up its position so that Max’s Order could extend their home front. Dana blew out a relieved breath, finding no pain or anger from the culled landscape, just acceptance and happiness to be useful.

  She should have known better. There was no way Max would allow the senseless removal of living things simply for the sake of affording her paladins some privacy. For that is exactly what they were for. She had been privy to a few discussions about creating more room for the Order of Aurora and their extended family. Ryker had built a truly spectacular home by the sea and although it was large, it was now bulging at the seams. The knights, true to their nature, had refused to move away and simply ‘work in shifts’ as Max had proposed. The building of new homes close by on the same land was a compromise to everyone’s satisfaction. Dana had not been expecting so much work to have been done in the time she had been gone. Two of the four structures were nothing more than foundations. But the other two looked largely complete from the outside. It made her wonder just how much progress had been made at Eden.

  “This is what happens when I disappear, I suppose,” she murmured. She had been gone longer than she initially intended, and she also had not checked in via the veil more than twice. It had been difficult because she was fast becoming attached to the mortal plane. But it had been necessary. Not only had she spoken to the other members of her Triumvirate, but she had also gotten a huge surprise in the form of a strapping young man.

  Sensing life – endless life – Dana bent down and helped a small beetle onto the back of her hand. Smiling, she said, “Hello there, Bert. How would you like to hear a story before I go in? I could certainly use some advice.” The little slater bug gave no reply but he did continue to sit and watch her expectantly. “Okay, well, I returned to Otherworld in a bit of a tiz …”

  “Temp! Tanda!” she yelled into the black void that took up one whole corner of Otherworld. No other occupants of Otherworld ventured anywhere near the endless black. Only Dana, as Mother Nature; Tempus, as Father Time; and Tanda, as Death, could travel the roads of infinity. Which is what the other two must be doing, Dana thought to herself, because they were nowhere to be found in Otherworld. “I had an epiphany. Finally. We need to talk. Come on, give me a break, huh? So I made a boo boo. It is not like you both have not been there and done that yourselves,” she yelled. Silence met her ears and she was just ramping herself up to taunt them again when a voice from behind startled her.

  “I think they’re fucking with you.”

  Dana yelped, spinning and sending some of her power outward in a defensive motion. The young man in front of her merely smiled and caught the raw elemental magic between his hands. “You …” Dana began, finding her mouth too dry to continue.

  “My name is Gaias,” the man spoke once more.

  “Gaias?” Dana repeated. Feeling a rush of air at her back, she turned to see Tempus and Tanda. The pair looked exactly the same as they had for eons. Tempus had a real silver fox look going for him with silver hair and a short, trimmed matching beard. His eyes were impossibly blue and the few wrinkles he had were on his forehead, around his eyes and near his mouth, attesting to a life lived with many smiles and much laughter. Tanda was almost his polar opposite. Dark skin, smooth and blemish free, with a completely bald, shiny head. His eyes were as black as obsidian, only lighting up with gold and silver when his powers were active. That was not to say they lacked warmth, however. Tanda was a good man, and an affectionate one. But he was very choosy with whom he gave his friendship to.

  “What is going on?” Dana demanded, looking askance at Gaias.

  Tanda didn’t smile with his mouth but Dana could detect warmth and humour in his eyes when he replied, “Don’t you recognise him?”

  “Of course, I recognise him!” Dana snapped at one of her oldest and dearest friends. She turned to Gaias and held out her arms. To her relief, the young man stepped straight into them and hugged her just as hard as she hugged him. She was not ashamed of the few tears that escaped, and she gave a small laugh as she pulled back, taking in the visage of the fair-haired, green-eyed youth in front of her. “I do not understand.”

  “Your daughter set him free when she killed Emmanuel. I simply helped him into a body,” Tanda offered.

  Dana shook her hea
d, unable to comprehend what Tanda was telling her. Once, many, many years ago, Dana had birthed pure souls. The souls were nothing but energy and never destined to reside in a physical body. The souls were like children to her because she created them with her own body. But she did not carry them as she had with Max, nor were they made with the aid of another. Custodians were made by pure power with the purpose of being pure power. She had intended for there to always be one custodian on Earth at all times. Their presence was to be a balancing factor for the rapidly changing nature of the planet. But after a time, when the vulnerable souls kept getting lost or destroyed, Dana had not used her powers to create more. But somehow, Gaias, the flesh and blood man standing before her, was the last custodian she had ever created. The custodian who had been consumed by the infected warden, Emmanuel, and cursed to live on inside of the beast for decades.

  “Max set you free?” she asked Gaias directly.

  “She did. When she went supernova. She set all of us free. All of the souls Emmanuel had been collecting,” Gaias informed her.

  “And I, being in charge of where souls go, decided the custodian deserved a body of their own,” Tanda explained.

  “And I, being in charge of all things time, decided now was the time for him to step up,” Tempus added.

  Dana shook her head, “Step up? As what?”

  Tempus smiled, “As your protégé of course.”

  “And that is when I had a nervous breakdown,” Dana concluded to her audience of one. Bert scuttled around the back of her hand, his tiny legs tickling her skin and making her smile. “It seems I now have choices. Choices I had no idea were even a possibility. Is it not refreshing to know that even I can still be surprised?” Dana began walking down the path to the front door, placing Bert on a plant as she passed and thanking him for listening. Before she could even climb the stairs, the rarely used front door opened.