Page 15 of Gift from the Tree

“Don’t be like that, T-man. Tell me you missed me,” he pleads, giving me a wounded puppy look. Little psycho is seriously like a lost puppy that needs affection and approval all the time. Until he gets mad or his feelings are hurt. Then a switch flips in that brain of his and he fucking destroys everything in his path.

Sighing, I give in without much of a fight, knowing he isn’t going to drop it until I please him. “Fine. I missed you. Happy now?”

“I knew you did. So what’s going on?” he asks confidently like he wasn’t just begging for a bone of my attention.

Rolling my eyes, I quickly explain what I know. Since we have so little to go on, it only takes a second to tell Draken everything and judging by the look on his face, he’s just as confused and annoyed with how little Gaster left us with.

“Who do you think it could be? Anyone we would know? What if they’ve hurt Gaster?” He starts rapidly firing questions.

“We’ve told you everything we know, Draken, and no, I don’t believe it’s anyone we’d know. I have no clue how Gaster even knows this person.” The frustration is evident in Corentin’s voice. The longer it takes Gaster to get back the more he loses it. This wasn’t a part of his plan today and it’s fucking him right off.

Corentin needs control, needs it more than his next fucking breath. He has to have the day planned from waking up to going to sleep. He understands in times of emergencies, shit will go down that he can’t change, and he can handle that, but this, this could’ve been planned better, and he can’t accept that it wasn’t.

“How long has it been now?” I ask him. I already know the answer based on what he said when he arrived, but he needs something to ground him, make him focus and not lose his shit.

This has always been my role in our group, peacekeeper. The four very different personalities we bring into this Nexus would cause huge fucking problems if someone didn’t do it. It’s much easier for me to have patience than the rest of them because I can easily look into their heads if I need to and know the true motives and reasons behind their shit fucking tones.

Although he glances down at his timekeeper for about a millisecond, he already has the time, probably counting the seconds in his mind. “Fourteen minutes and seven seconds,” he answers, clipped.

“So any minute now if it was a quick in and out. We can go ahead and start making calls to see if we can find someone who’s capable of getting to the nonmagical realm.” I know the likelihood of that is slim to none since Gaster’s the only person we know who can do that, but I need to get plan B, C, and D mapped out in my mind.

“And send them there for what? Send them there with no information, no location, just the possibility of death,” Caspian snarks out.

What the hell has crawled up his ass and died today?

Caspian thrives on knowledge, knowing everything. His mistrust of the world makes him pick everything apart until there’s nothing but bare bones left. Despite his don’t fucking talk to me vibe he gives off, females flock to him in masses, but he keeps everyone and everything except us at arm’s length. Also, he’s fucking deadly, he thrives in the shadows, and when he’s in a mood like this, he needs to feed that darkness.

“I’ve about had it with your—”

“Quiet, listen,” Corentin cuts me off to say.

All of us fall silent and sure enough, you can hear the faintest buzz in the air. Barely audible unless you’re purposely trying to hear it, transporting makes the slightest of sounds.

We gather around in a semi-circle facing the noise, four E.F. members to my left and my brothers positioned on the right, the rest of Team One in their assigned points. We all hold our breaths, waiting to see what’s about to happen. Those maybe ten seconds feel like an eternity, but finally, Gaster materializes. The individual with him immediately hits the ground on all fours, throwing up.

Okay, so probably not all that dangerous if he can’t handle transporting.

We all watch silently as Gaster bends down and rubs circles on this guy’s back, speaking so quietly, even our advanced hearing can’t pick up what he’s saying. Gaster blocks everyone’s view as he helps the guy stand and lifts the hood of his cloak and moves to stand beside him.

Not him. Her.

Standing there, pale as a ghost, is one of the smallest women I’ve ever seen in my life. She’d maybe reach my chest. Even if she wasn’t bloodied and beaten, looking like she just stepped off a battlefield, I’d be able to tell she was strong, a force of nature, and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

Her silver eyes shine brighter than the blade attached to my belt as her intense gaze starts all the way at the end of the line we formed, at the first of my team and she slowly assesses each of them, keeping eye contact as she goes down the line, sizing them up.

Until she looks at me.

My heart stops beating, or maybe it’s beating so fast I can’t keep up. The world around me quits moving, my mind silences, and my labored breathing is the only sound registering in my ears. Her plump lips slightly part in a gasp, and I can feel the air being sucked out of the atmosphere around us. As she takes me in, I swear she’s staring through my mind, trying to reach in and touch my soul.

She begins swaying on her feet, eyes fluttering, getting ready to pass out. Right before she goes down, eyes locked on mine, she opens her mouth and says one word that’s going to change all our lives.

“Mine.”

Yeah, little warrior. I believe I’m yours.

Six

Willow

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