Reaver of Souls Page 19

  “Jillian,” he said, meaning to ask the man to wait, but his words froze in his throat as he saw who was standing there.

  “Mace?” he asked, his eyes wide in shock as he looked up at the captain of his father’s personal guard. “Qua tu vere?” Why are you here?

  “I was sent to retrieve you, Torn,” said the big man, his eyes watching him with a hint of fear in them as if he expected Torn to do him harm. His stance was almost at ease, but was held in a lethal readiness that showed his less than trusting nature.

  This was not right, Torn thought as he released Sable to stare at Mace.

  Mace was the man who had befriended him and invited him to join the warriors’ ranks. Mace was his mentor when his father was not there to train him, was there to teach him to handle sword and lance. Mace had, on more than one occasion, doled out some sorely needed punishment as well as given him a shoulder to lean on when his isolation became too much. Now Mace, his friend and confidant, appeared to be…afraid.

  “So now, you fear me?” Torn asked, hurt obvious in his tone even if his words were not understood by all.

  “Torn,” Mace began, but as Torn stepped closer to him, Mace took one small step back. It was enough to make Torn start to ponder his decisions to accept these things all over again.

  Sighing deeply, his head dropped, his shoulders slumped, and the new pride in which he carried himself faded.

  What had he been thinking? Even here on this plane where the people thought him large but normal, he was a freak. There was no getting over the fact that he was different and would always be different. He was deluding himself if he thought that people could accept him for what he was. And if Sable could overlook the monster that dwelled within him, how would the people treat her for being in the company of one such as him?

  “What do you want?” he asked as he seemed to shrink in on himself, defeated before the fight had begun.

  “I…it takes some getting used to,” Mace said, realizing that something had broken in Torn in that moment and knowing that his inadvertent reaction had caused it to break. “But I have been sent to secure your safety.”

  “My safety? That is a laugh,” Torn stated bitterly as he turned to look at Sable.

  “What did you say to him?” Sable growled at Mace.

  She too recognized the fact that something had deflated in Torn, that he was about to tell her something important that would change her life, and now he had withdrawn into himself.

  “What does she say?” Mace asked Torn, a confused look on his face.

  “Stop talking to him!” Sable shouted, pushing her way in front of Torn and glaring at the oversized man. “I let you into my house and you say something to make my man upset! I want you and your lackeys out!”

  “What’s going on?” Jill asked as he popped up on the side of Mace, staring at Sable in consternation. “Are you fighting again? Honestly! I can’t take you anywhere!”

  “He hurt Torn!” Sable cried out, not noticing that Torn shook his head sadly.

  She was trying to defend him, but she still had no inkling to what he really was. He was something to be feared, hated, something his own father could barely tolerate.

  “Well then, I guess I am going to have to kick his ass!” Jill said, rolling up his sleeves as he too began to glare at Mace.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Not liking the way this whole conversation was going, or the heated looks directed at him while he could not understand their words, made Mace a bit more defensive.

  “What are the little man and the spitfire saying?” he asked as he kept his eye on the red-haired man.

  “I think we had better move this conversation inside,” Jack’s deep voice intoned as he drew the attention of the combatants back towards the house. “Torn is wet and cold, and I do not want to have to kill someone for Jillian’s benefit on the front stoop.”

  “Inside,” Torn sighed to Mace as he motioned towards the house. “We will discuss this inside.”

  Mace nodded and stepped around the murmuring, glowering red-haired man and past the larger dark-skinned hairless one. People here were so volatile, he decided as he met the eyes of his first and second.

  “Torn has arrived,” he said, and the two rose to their feet.

  Torn warily made his way into the house, again marveling at the floor coverings as he moved into the living room.

  Sable instantly, it seemed, had a towel and was doing her best to smother him, dry him off, and direct him to a chair at the same time.

  “Sit!” she said and the three strangers watched, amazed as Torn did not do that embarrassing wiggle before he placed his rump on a chair. So that was the meaning of the word “sit”! One didn’t have to do that ridiculous dance before parking your bottom. All three blushed in embarrassment.

  “Where were you? Why did you leave? Are you okay?”

  Sable shot questions at him even as she shot evil looks at the three men who now stood looking at them.

  “Let the man speak,” Jack said to Sable as he placed a calming hand on Jill’s shoulder, his other hand rubbing the high-strung man’s back, easing the heavy muscles that had tightened as he moved to defend Torn.

  “Men of Terror,” he stated as he peeked longingly at Sable. He sighed as he gazed upon what he could never have. No one deserved to be tied to one such as him, two things trapped inside of one body.

  “Men of terror?” Sable glared at the three. “They don’t look too terrifying to me. In fact, they look like a bunch of overgrown bullies! What did they say to you?”

  Sable was still hot about the unknown words spoken that had caused Torn pain.

  “They have come to take me to Terror,” he said with a sigh. “I must go.” It would be better for all concerned if he disappeared right now. He would hurt, but he would bring more pain to Sable if he stayed.

  “What?” Sable shrieked and placed her hands on his hips as he stood. “They are taking you nowhere!”

  “They bring Terror,” Torn tried to explain, and didn’t understand Jack’s growl and Jill’s indignant gasp.

  “They will do no such thing,” Sable shouted, the force of her words and the heat of her anger forcing the three warriors to back up a bit.

  How did one battle an unknown element, which happened to be a female one at that?

  “They are a bunch of bullies and there will be no terror or fear brought upon you while I am still alive!”

  Torn blinked as he stared at his little fierce warrior. She would defend him to the death, she said. But what did fear have to do with his father?

  “Terror is good,” he tried again, thinking that maybe Zultha’s lies had reached her here on this unknown plane.

  “It is not!” she said as she turned to Torn, her heart in her eyes. “It is not good for anyone to be afraid.” She turned to the big three again. “And I’ll be dammed before they bring fear to you, no matter what they say.”

  “Fear?” Torn asked, knowing the meaning of that word. “My father…fear?”

  “Father?”

  “Father?” Jack and Jill chimed in together, disbelief in their voices.

  “Father… Terror,” Torn said as he tried to find the bridge between their two languages. Why would they think that his father was fear?”

  “Wait!” Sable cried out suddenly, bringing everyone’s eyes on her. “Child abuse?”

  “He ain’t no child, honey!” Jill snickered, only to be elbowed into silence by Jack.

  “Abuse?” Torn said, realization dawning. “No! Father is Terror.”

  “His father is that bad?” Sable breathed, wondering what could terrify a man who turned into a giant flying cat with black angel’s wings. Did he turn into a floating lion?

  “Terror is Father! Torn, I am,” Torn explained, looking at Sable and willing her to understand as he pointed to his chest. “Terror, he is. And Mace, he is,” he said, pointing to the man who had made him cringe. “Del, he is.” He pointed to the man roughly the same size as th
e first one. “Joz, he is,” he said finally, pointing to the largest of the three. “Terror’s men. Father’s men.”

  “Well, that is a relief,” Sable said, relieved, pictures of fire-breathing felines banished from her mind. “Now tell them to go away. You are mine and I am not giving you back.”

  There was a pleasant smile on her face as she said this, dismissing the men at a glance.

  “I need…go,” Torn said at last, sinking into himself again.

  “No! Torn, no!” Sable said, her smile leaving as she sat on the couch beside him. “I just found you again. I can’t let you go.”

  “What does the female say?” Mace asked, looking at Sable, uncertainty still in his eyes.

  Clearly this female was no good for the lad. She was trying to get him to do something he didn’t want to. He understood the body language, Torn sadly shaking his head as he gazed at her and the set to her stubborn chin. He had to get him out of this place before he was corrupted.

  “Nothing that concerns you, Mace,” Torn said as he tried to stop the pain that he felt welling up in his heart.

  “Nothing… A few days with these creatures and already you show no respect for your teachers,” Mace growled, causing Torn to sit up at attention and Jack to move forward.

  Del, whose hand went to his scabbard, and Joz, who moved beside him countered this move.

  Not one to let his partner face danger alone, Jill again got the pugnacious look on his face as he stepped forward. This battle would be well and truly met.

  “Stop it!” Sable shouted as she leapt to her feet. “All of you!”

  Her heart was breaking. Didn’t they understand? Torn said he had to go.

  Silence fell in the room as Torn rose and took Sable’s hands in his.

  “I don’t want…go!” he said passionately, his eyes tearing up as he stared at the woman who almost made him believe that he was lovable, worthy of love. “Have to! Not safe, not safe…you!”

  “I don’t care! Stay with me! What can be so dangerous?” she cried out. “What?”

  “Me,” he answered solemnly.

  “Oh, come on, Torn! You are not going to hurt me!”

  “But the others will!” he said with conviction.

  “Them?” She pointed to the trio who watched them with major curiosity.

  “No! Others!”

  He pointed towards the door.

  “People? Other people? Torn, they don’t have to know!”

  “Know what I am? They will know! I cannot…hide!”

  He looked imploringly into her eyes, begging for understanding, but she held fast to her dreams.

  “What are you?”

  “What am I?”

  “What are you, Torn? What is that thing you turned into? Why are they taking you away from me?”

  Tears began to break free of her control. They poured down, crystalline droplets of grief that left their trail of sorrow down her face, splattering on the floor, even as her heart shattered into a million pieces.

  “I am…Reaver.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Terror stepped out of the void and into…hell.

  “What is this place?” he asked as he stared dumbfounded at the metal boxes that moved on big black wheels and the so very tiny people who rode in them.

  There was a loud clashing in the air, a klaxon of horns and talking people moving about in a manner the likes of which he had never seen before.

  The men, if you wanted to call the swordless knarks that, were dressed in the soft fibers, not the tough animal skins of warriors. They looked feeble and weak, not worthy for a true solider at all. A few stared gape-mouthed at his party, the giant white-haired healer and his assistant, in wonder.

  “Torn was in danger because of…these people?” he asked, incredulity in his voice.

  “They may have hidden dangers,” offered the Healer as he too shook his head at these strange people and their devices.

  “What? They will gnaw on his ankles until he yields?” Terror snorted.

  “Um, well, their danger may be a bit more subtle,” the Healer said as he shook his head at Terror. “Like a certain child who appeared to be a dreamer, but held within him a nightmare.”

  Snarling in rage, Terror turned towards his old friend.

  “If you ever call my son a nightmare again, I will pull your tongue out of your mouth and shove it up your ass!”

  Startled, the Healer backed up, but held his ground. “You deny that the child is cursed? That he carries darkness within him?”

  “That darkness is there because he purges it from people! Torn is my child and the son of my heart! I have lost so many years out of fear, Fal. So many wasted years because I believed that I had cursed him. All the time I was the one cursed. I let my misgivings take him away from me for so many years and I will not sit back and let someone defame his name. He is my child, Healer! Watch your words!”

  Nodding, Fal turned again to the people that moved swiftly around them. The sky was dark and there were stars out, but there was a damp chill in the air.

  “Very well, Terror. Let us see to your son. Maybe these hidden dangers will become more apparent to us as we search. No one is to be underestimated.”

  “I agree,” he said as he too turned to observe the people and the quickly emptying streets. “But this is still a strange place inhabited by strange-looking people. Can you not see how short they are?”

  “Size isn’t everything,” Fal said as he nodded to his assistant. “Let us be off.”

  “Nello will soon follow,” Terror said as he halted the procession. “She needs to track us.”

  “Can she not follow the collar on Torn?” Fal asked.

  “Yes,” Terror said quietly as he closed his eyes and had to fight a sudden urge to cry.

  “What is it?” Fal had not missed the paleness of Terror’s face.

  “My son! He is in pain. He needs me.”

  Without a word, they were off, the cloaked assistant following behind. No one noticed her long red hair or her teasing smile. But she moved swiftly, staying behind the men, biding her time, waiting for her chance.

  * * * * *

  “What is a Reaver, Torn?” Sable asked, her eyes searching. “What are you?”

  “Reaver kill…evil.” he said looking into her eyes. “It takes evil.”

  “Takes evil?”

  “Inside! In me! It is inside me.” He pointed to his chest, staring deeply into her eyes, willing her to understand, to know the meanings to his words.

  “You take evil inside you?”

  “Evil, hurt, pain. It is all…inside…me.”

  “Criminy! I get it!”

  Everyone in the room turned to stare at Jill as he sat up and made his declaration.

  “Remember I told you I felt purged, cleansed inside? Torn did it. He took my pain away and I think it is with him, inside him, Sable.”

  He turned to face Jack who now had a stunned look on his face.

  “You all right then?” Jill asked as he examined his mate, as the revolution took him as well.

  “Yes, the pain. I have…had a lot of darkness in my past. After Torn reaved me I guess, it all seemed not as important. I could suddenly get past it and not just deal with it. Is that what a Reaver does, Torn? Do you take away the pain so that a person is…free?”

  Nodding vigorously, Torn smiled sadly at the two men before turning to face Sable once again.

  “Reaver takes pain, takes hurt.”

  “I can live with that, Torn,” Sable sniffed. “I just can’t take life without you.”

  “Reaver is…not only inside, Sable. Reaver is…ugly.” He searched for the word to let her know how distasteful his second form was to others, how hideous he appeared to himself, how he could never accept the part of him that dwelled within.

  He snorted in disgust as he seemed to sink into himself again. His eyes dropped as if he were ashamed of ever thinking that something could come of an infatuation with Sable. His desolat
e sighs seemed to echo within his body as defeat settled like a heavy mantle around him.

  “There is nothing ugly in you, Torn.” Sable denied as she slipped to her knees in front of him. “In you, I only see goodness and light.”

  “I see…saw your face,” he struggled. “Here, I have not…” His eyebrows twisted as he fought to find the words. “Not enough control. There is much evil—no, pain—here. I change when…I change.”

  He ran frustrated hands through his hair as he thought of the futility of his situation.

  “Better if I…go.”

  “I was surprised, Torn.” Sable took his hands and pulled them gently from his hair, bringing his gaze back to hers. “I have never seen anything like you before. But I truly don’t care Torn. I don’t care. You can grow three heads and I will love each one of them.”

  “Depends on where they are located,” Jill added, then winced as Jack whacked him one.

  “Look into my heart,” Sable urged. “You will know if I lie.”

  Staring into her face, her dear familiar face, Torn fought the urge to use his powers, just to see. But the truth of her words showed brightly in her face. She really was not afraid of him.

  He blinked then sat up, eyes still glued to her visage.

  “I love you, Torn. I am jealous of everyone who comes near you; I would fight to keep you near me. I love you!”

  “Sable,” he began and almost automatically his face began to lower towards hers. “You love…”

  “At vort, Torn!” What did you do, Torn?

  He jerked his head up and turned to his father’s soldiers and Mace’s frowning glower.

  “Why do you dally with that woman? She may be fair of face, but remember, so was Zultha. What can you offer this woman? Better you leave with us now. Your father should have received my signal and is probably already here. Do not waste her time with this foolishness.”

  Torn pulled away from Sable, who glared at the tall man who spoke so harshly to her Torn.

  “Better I go,” he said, again regret shining in his eyes as he eased Sable to her feet and rose to stand beside her. “Mace is correct.”