Interlude (The Stone Legacy Series Book 2) Read online

  Interlude

  Book Two of the Stone Legacy Series

  Theresa DaLayne

  Interlude

  Copyright © 2015 by Theresa DaLayne.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: January 2016

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-438-7

  ISBN-10: 1-68058-438-3

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Foreword

  From the moment I imagined Tara and Peter, I knew they would be special. Unfortunately, getting to know someone involves getting to know their past, and not everyone’s past is peaches and cream. That goes for Tara as well. As revealed in Mayan Blood, Tara was a victim of childhood abuse. As a courtesy, I want to provide a warning to readers who have been victims of sexual abuse or childhood abuse because I’ve learned reading about such experiences can sometimes trigger unwanted memories or feelings.

  While Tara has this in her past, there is absolutely no depiction of her time spent in the abusive environment where she was raised. However, the situation she finds herself in during this book could be upsetting to some.

  Chapter One

  Tara rested her head on Peter’s chest while they lay in his bed, watching TV. She kicked the blanket off of her, and then sighed. She should be happy. She finally had a family of sorts—a boyfriend who would do anything for her, and a best friend who was more like a sister. But she wasn’t happy, and she couldn’t tell anyone.

  Peter’s bed was somehow more comfortable than hers, and he seemed to want her there. That didn’t stop her from feeling terrible over waking him up—for the third time that week. Her plush bed looked inviting, but it was home to her horrible nightmares. At least she wished they were nightmares…

  She used to find solace in Zanya, back in the orphanage, when they were all each other had. Funny how life had changed so much, so fast. Best friends, they spent their entire lives dreaming of a future outside of the orphanage’s walls, only to be sucked into a reality that surpassed even their idea of insane.

  Back then it was Zanya whose dreams were filled with terror.

  They’d been taken from the orphanage to Renato’s estate in Belize, where they’d experienced so much, and discovered Zanya’s dreams were real. Then they traveled to Moscow. That’s when things had gone from bad to terrible for Tara.

  Her throat tightened. She curled her fingers around Peter’s T-shirt. Half asleep and with the TV on, he didn’t seem to notice.

  She fought to stay awake out of fear of reliving her time spent with Sarian, the underworld general. The nightly reminders hadn’t gone away. In fact, they had only gotten worse.

  It was just like when she was a kid, before she was taken from her mother by child protective services. Then, the fear of another encounter with her mother’s “boyfriends” had coiled around her in a paralyzing way, stalking her day and night.

  Her eyelids grew heavy, and her muscles ached for just a few hours of sleep. Being close to Peter somehow made it all better, for the moment. He chased away her demons and made her forget.

  Peter pushed one of her curls aside and placed a soft kiss behind her ear. “How are you feeling?” he said in a groggy whisper.

  She shrugged. He nudged her shoulder with his chin and rested his lips on the curve of her neck. His breath teased her skin.

  She smiled and cringed away. “Knock it off. You know I’m ticklish.”

  “Mmm.” He trailed kisses down to her shoulder.

  The tickling subsided, and Tara’s eyes fluttered closed. Her lips parted, fingers tightening around the blankets underneath her.

  The smell of fresh rain filled the air. God, she loved his scent. The first time Peter had stepped close to her at Renato’s house, it had washed over her like a wave of relief. After that, she just couldn’t stay away.

  “You think you can get some sleep?” he whispered. “You need it.”

  Tara composed herself and nodded. Even though he didn’t push the issue, a tiny piece of her wished he’d keep kissing her neck to see where it went—see if she felt comfortable, without committing to anything from the beginning. After all, it was she who didn’t want to take the next step in their relationship. Peter, however, would never put her into a situation she didn’t ask for. He loved her too much. It was the first time she had experienced that kind of commitment from anyone. There was no way she’d risk ruining it with sex.

  Tara sat up, rubbing the tight muscles in her neck. Every nightmare threw her body into a more tense and agitated state. Her appetite was all but gone, her sense of humor dimmed, and since the flashbacks had become more vivid, she’d nearly lost the ability to smile.

  Peter’s hands replaced hers and worked around her shoulders, massaging the knots into submission. Warmth radiated from his fingertips and spread through her body, soothing the tension. His healing ability had come in handy more than once over the last few weeks.

  She exhaled and melted into him. “Thanks.” She glanced at the digital clock. It was almost four in the morning. Guilt tore at her. “I really have to stop coming in here every time a memory breaks through. I’m not five.”

  “No, what you really have to do is tell Marzena that you’re remembering more.”

  Marzena, the group’s dreamwalker, had helped Tara unlock the hidden door in her mind, allowing them to find the memories to locate Sarian. If only she could go back in time and block that door with concrete and chains to seal the memories inside...

  “I won’t do that,” Tara said. “Not yet anyway. It’s not that bad.” Only bad enough to wake her in a cold sweat with her stomach knotted and muscles so tender she was achy for days. “Besides, she isn’t even in Moscow, so it’s not like she could do anything about it.”

  “She would come back if you needed her.”

  “Well, I don’t.” Not if that meant putting her issues on display. “She already reached into my head once. I don’t need her doing it again.”

  Peter leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her. “Even if it’ll help?” He kissed her temple. “Come on, Tara. You know you can’t keep doing this.”

  He was right, but she couldn’t admit it aloud. She had been so selfish, staggering to his bedroom, shaking like a leaf. Not exactly a romantic midnight rendezvous. “I’m sorry I keep dragging you into this.”

  If she could just leave him alone, at least one of them would get some rest and not feel like a zombie.

  With her stomach in knots, she scooted to the side of the mattress and stared blankly at the wall. Lights from the TV danced, casting shadows over the room.

  “Whatever you’re dealing
with, I’m here for you.” His voice was soft and comforting.

  She swallowed down the urge to cry.

  Zanya was still working to counter Sarian by travelling decades into the past with Renato, Arwan, Hawa, and Jayden, leaving Marzena, Tara, and Peter behind. Tara had tried to curb her bitterness about that, especially since she had nobody to channel it toward. It wasn’t Zanya’s choice to leave them. That’s what she kept telling herself, anyway.

  Tara rubbed her throbbing eyes. It was probably good that Marzena had gone back to Belize to manage the workers while they patched up the damage to Renato’s house. It needed to be done before they all went back—if they went back. Renato’s house had already become her home. Her heart ached at the memory of it under attack. And with Marzena gone, no one had to know Tara was steadily losing her mind. Again.

  Peter grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels. “There’s nothing on that’s not in Russian.”

  She glanced at the screen. Had the actors been speaking Russian? Showed how much she’d been paying attention. He stopped on a news station with a woman speaking English in a heavy Russian accent. Behind her, emergency lights from police cars and ambulances flashed. Tara sighed and slumped her shoulders forward. “The news?”

  “There’s nothing else on.” He lifted the remote. “You want me to just turn it off?”

  She shook her head. “Nah. Leave it. At least it’s in English.” She tuned in for the first time.

  “Officers responded to a call of a suspected gang clash outside of the Moscow Academy of Science. Authorities say a confrontation occurred between a student and an alleged gang member when the student’s younger sister was forced into a gang-marked vehicle. The victim, who was wounded at the scene, was a freshman. Sadly, he died before the ambulance could respond, while the alleged attacker, who was also wounded, is now being treated at the Yakimanka Hospital where he is in critical condition.”

  Tara pushed the power button on the remote and the screen winked off. “I changed my mind. Even if it is in English, that’s just depressing.”

  “Yeah. Seriously.”

  “Poor guy,” she whispered, imagining the look of terror on the brother’s face while his little sister was being dragged away. “I hope they get her back.”

  Peter moved to the far side of the bed. “Get who back?”

  “The girl who was kidnapped.”

  “Yeah.” His yawn deepened her guilt. “Come on.” He patted the mattress. “Lie down next to me.”

  It was still dark out. If she left now, he could catch at least a few hours of sleep before the morning. She stood up and walked toward the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  She paused with her fingers wrapped around the handle. “I’m letting you get some rest. I’ll be fine until morning.”

  Whether that would prove true or not, only time would tell.

  Chapter Two

  Rays of morning sunlight crept through the windows of Tara’s hotel room. She was already awake, staring at the door. Harsh whispers echoed from the hall, paired with rushed footsteps on the carpeted floors. She flung the covers aside and hurried across the room. The knob rattled, followed by several sharp pounds. She flinched, then peered through the peephole before flipping the deadbolt aside and swinging open the door.

  Renato rushed in with Hawa hanging limp in his arms.

  “Oh my God! What happened?”

  Renato laid her on the bed. Black hair spilled over Hawa’s face as she moaned.

  Peter stumbled into the room, his eyes glossy with sleep. Renato waved him in. “We need your help.”

  “Why didn’t you come to my room?” Peter asked, rushing toward them.

  “I…” Renato ran his fingers through his hair. “I was confused. I couldn’t remember…”

  Tara had never seen him like this before—scattered and completely undone. Her chest tightened. “Where’s Zanya?” Renato didn’t say a word. Tara stepped forward. A knot formed in her gut. She gripped the bedpost, her legs beginning to feel like mush. “Mr. Renato, what happened to Zanya?”

  “She’ll be fine,” Peter said while examining Hawa’s bandaged leg. “I don’t sense any breaks or fractures. But I think she may have a mild concussion.” He stared up at Renato. “What the hell happened?”

  Renato paced, rubbing the five o’clock shadow darkening his jaw line. “Sarian was much stronger than we anticipated. When Zanya tried to retrieve the stone, he somehow sensed her, even with the masking spell.”

  Figures. It was dangerous and stupid to accept the witch’s offer to help. Tara had hated the idea from the start, but being outnumbered, and a girl with no abilities to contribute, she’d thought it better to keep her mouth shut. For all they knew, Contessa could have given Zanya a dud spell so she could take the stone herself. The witch only helped to get revenge on Sarian in the first place. It still wasn’t clear how strong Zanya’s stone really was, but since every underworlder wanted to get their hands on it, it had to be capable of some unworldly things.

  And Zanya, as its guardian, was the only thing in their way.

  “Who healed Hawa?” Peter asked.

  “Contessa. At her home.” Renato checked his watch. “We arrived in Moscow several hours ago.”

  “Besides a small concussion, it looks like she did a decent job.” Peter laid the back of his hand against Hawa’s forehead. “No fever. One or two healing sessions and I think she’ll be back to normal. Right now she’s exhausted. We should let her sleep.”

  Tara let go of the bedpost, anger peeling away her layers of patience. There was no way she’d let them keep ignoring her. With her fists perched on her hips, she narrowed her eyes. “If someone doesn’t answer me in the next two seconds, I swear I’m going to flip the hell out.” They both stopped and stared at her. Tara swallowed. “Where is Zanya?”

  Renato gave a deep exhale. “Tara.”

  His calm, solemn tone sucked the heat right out of her body. It had to be bad.

  She wound her fingers into her mess of red curls. “Oh no. What?”

  “Please don’t panic,” he continued. “She is not hurt.”

  Tara exhaled. “Thank God.” She swallowed down the spike of anxiety. “Don’t scare me like that.” She gestured toward the hall. “I’m gonna go talk to her.” When she started toward the door, Renato stepped into her path. She examined his tight features. “I’ll be right back,” she said. “I just want to go see how she’s holding up.”

  “Tara.” When he said her name the second time his tone hadn’t change, and the look in his eyes told her something was wrong. He ran his hands down the length of his jacket, smoothing it down. “She’s not here.”

  “What do you mean she’s not here? You said she’s all right.”

  “Yes, that’s true.”

  Tara shifted her weight. “Well, where is she?”

  “She and Arwan left to get Jayden back.”

  “Back?” Tara scanned the room. In the chaos, she hadn’t noticed the absence of Jayden or Arwan. “Is Jay pulling another stunt to try and win Zanya over?”

  “I don’t think that’s what’s going on this time,” Peter said.

  “Sarian is stronger than we realized.”

  Her heart pounded faster. “But…” Tara’s gaze darted between them. “I don’t understand.”

  Renato rested his hand on her shoulder. “Tara…Jayden was killed in battle.”

  It was as if someone had kicked her in the stomach. She wheezed and gripped her belly. “What?” Her bottom lip quivered along with her voice. She had known Jayden nearly as long as Zanya. Even if they weren’t as close, he was a dear friend. She swallowed past the ache in her throat.

  Peter took her hand.

  “Zanya and Arwan have rushed to Guatemala,” Renato continued. “To the caves of Naj Tunich.”

  She tightened her grip around Peter’s hand while suspicion crawled over her. “Zanya hates caves. Especially after her run-in with that demon thing Sarian se
nt. Why would she want to go there?”

  “I attempted to convince her it was a dangerous, reckless idea, but she insisted. She was determined. She and Arwan have traveled to the caves to find Houn—the Guardian of Souls. She has the insane plan to get Jayden’s soul back and resurrect him.”

  Tara pulled away from Peter, grabbed Renato’s collar, and jerked him forward. “Are you trying to tell me that my best friend is going to meet up with the Grim Reaper?”

  Renato stared down at Tara’s fingers clenching his coat.

  She let go and stepped back. “No. Zanya wouldn’t just take off like that. Not without telling me first.”

  Renato straightened his posture, smoothing the wrinkles in his clothes. “I managed to rent a cold chamber for Jayden’s body in the local morgue.”

  Tara snorted. “Yeah, I think you’re full of it.” No way this could be real.

  His lips formed a tight line. “If escorting you to see his body is the only way to convince you I am being honest, that is certainly an option.”

  Tara’s eyes widened. “You’re not joking.”

  “Unfortunately, no. If Zanya and Arwan cannot retrieve his soul before Houn places it in the underworld, the morgue is where Jayden’s body belongs. Either way, we need to preserve it the best we can.”

  “Preserve?” She choked on the word and slowly sat beside Hawa on the mattress.

  “Something has been bothering me since we left Moscow,” Renato said, staring into the distance. “Why would Houn hold his soul when Jayden died in battle? Why would he not go straight to the heavens?”

  “It would have…unless there’s a good reason he’s there,” Peter said.

  Renato nodded. “Unless someone wanted him there.”

  Tara cupped her hand over her mouth. Was this another trap for Zanya?

  Peter rested his hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be all right.”