“Some thank you,” she muttered under her breath. He dragged her out the back door and into the sunshine. Once there, he pointed to the black Mercedes in the driveway.
All her big plans at escape were dashed as she noticed Mick solemnly standing by the driver’s side. So much for a getaway. Raven knew Mick liked Luke. He told her they’d been friends for almost five years. She figured he’d exact revenge for his friend’s death somehow, but for the meantime he would wisely follow orders.
Raven stared blankly when she made eye contact with Mick. He subtly cast his eyes downward, his skin flashing a hint of the blush of embarrassment. His movements were swift as he walked around the car and opened the door for her, never forgetting his manners. She felt his anger toward Laroque, which was not of her imagination. Raven surprisingly discovered that along with her new human frailties came her new human gifts. Without the dominant Lamai DNA, she believed her mother’s psychic talents could shine through. She hoped it was true. She needed some type of advantage.
“He’s such the Southern gentleman-gentle-beast, I should say,” Laroque kidded, but Raven found no humor in anything he said. “Get in.”
How could she have fallen for his puppy dog eyes and sudden remorse? He’d easily convinced her that he’d somehow lost the anger he harbored for Tobias-except when she thought back, he never actually said the words. He merely asked for her help, and she romanticized the rest. If she were still Lamai, she would have realized he was full of shit. Raven silently berated herself for being so naive. Being entirely human, she was experiencing naivete. She fell for it hook, line and sinker. She realized she had a lot to learn, especially in matters of unwarranted trust.
She replayed their exchange in her mind. He talked of his love for Nicki and about how much his daughter meant to him, but he’d never once said he’d given up on his plot for revenge. Raven understood that her once-keen senses had dulled.
Her mind raced as the car pulled onto the main road.
But she still would have helped him, because she owed Jade that much, at least. She’d let her emotions get the better of her when she’d attempted to frighten her little sister in the hospital the day she kidnapped her. Seeing the past through Jade’s experience caused her to lock on with such force that she’d drained her almost completely. She’d had to transform her or lose her-and that she could not live with. Her mother would never forgive her, and Raven’s belief that her mother was still alive in a different form was very real.
She knew her mother had watched what went on. She saw the astral visit Jade had with Nicolette when she drank her blood. “Your sister would never kill you,” her mother had said to Jade.
What happened? How did things get so ghastly? Her world was spinning out of control, and she was helpless to stop any of it.
Her mother. It always came full circle and ended where it began, back with her mother. It was the love of three men for one woman that knocked Raven’s world off its axis and spun it blindly into chaos. Somehow it all seemed so familiar-as if this drama had played out before, during a different time, but the players were the same.
Her eyes became heavy with the passing miles, and soon she drifted into the dreamtime.
A man wearing armor and holding a shield stood before her. He was beautiful. Standing over six feet tall with black eyes that matched his wavy hair, he looked out over the landscape. Somehow Raven was able to know his thoughts, see what he saw. And what he saw was a fair-haired beauty named Helen.
Menelaus was his name. He was the king of Sparta. Helen was his wife. She was gone. No, not gone-stolen from her king. Visions flashed, and Raven saw that Laroque’s soul inhabited the body of King Menelaus, and Nicolette was Helen.
The image of a young girl appeared, and Raven knew it to be herself, incarnated as Hermione, the daughter of Menelaus and Helen. She watched as her father looked to the horizon, undoubtedly wondering how to get his beautiful wife back home.
He would need help-Achilles’ help.
He turned to his daughter. “Don’t worry, little one. I will bring back your mother, and they will be sorry they ever heard the name Menelaus.”
She knew her father meant what he said and would not rest until Helen was back in his bed.
Tobias stood with the gorgeous young woman known as Helen. He looked similar to the way he did now, except that the woman called him by another name: Paris.
They were in bed together, having just made love. Paris vowed never to allow her to return to Menelaus, and she was quite happy in Paris ’s arms. But she missed her daughter.
Menelaus had other plans, though, and they all involved bringing Helen home. It would not be an easy task, and Menelaus knew he would have to deal with Hector, Paris ’s brother, in the process.
At the thought of Hector, his image flooded Raven’s mind. He was pure muscle, standing just under six feet tall, with hair as black as night and eyes as blue as the sea. He was very protective of Paris and vowed to fight to the death to protect Helen.
Raven knew immediately Hector’s soul was that of Frank Dubois.
A swirl of mists wiped away the image of the two lovers in bed and replaced it with another. Lush greenery now surrounded Raven, the air full of moisture, the grounds wet after a spring rain.
Raven made her way through the forest and was transported to a castle on a steep hill. There she saw the walls shining with sand-colored marble and flags flying high above the tower.
Again the silhouette of a lonely man stood stark against the brilliant marble walls. Raven wanted a better look at him, and she soon found herself standing beside him-only he did not see her.
Another man came up behind him. “Arthur,” the handsome knight called out. He was blonde and fair-and yet he was Tobias, dark and brooding inside.
“Lancelot, my friend,” Arthur said, turning to the fair-haired man.
Arthur’s hair was the color of honey and his eyes sparkled like a fine port wine. It was Philippe-once again a king.
“My queen has informed me that you wanted to speak to me,” Lancelot said.
“How is she feeling? She has not been well these past few months. Who knew bearing a child could be this trying?”
Lancelot’s gaze turned to the landscape that spread out before them. “She’s better. I think she’ll be all right from now on. Sometimes the first few months are hard on a woman, but she has wanted this baby for a long time. She hasn’t complained one bit.”
Arthur cringed at the intimacy with which Lancelot spoke about his Guinevere.
Deep down, he knew it was not his child that grew in his wife’s belly, but Lancelot’s. Morgan le Fay, Arthur’s sister, had cursed him. He would never know the pleasure of fatherhood with his wife, but he kept that truth concealed for the sake of Camelot.
Raven also knew she was the child conceived by Lancelot and Guinevere, and Nicolette was her mother once more, embodied in fair Guinevere.
What Arthur didn’t know was that his sister had also betrayed him and tricked him into impregnating her before she cursed him. She bore a son, Mordred, and once more, the triad formed as Frank’s spirit took the form of Mordred, poised to do battle yet again with his enemies, Tobias and Philippe.
A crack of thunder and flash of lightning brought the dawn of a new day. This time Raven was in the desert. It was dry, and dusk coated the landscape with the glorious colors of a setting sun.
A woman stood looking out into the distance. Her hair hung down her back in waves the color of autumn. The sun caught flecks of gold in her mass of copper-colored tresses. She wore deerskin moccasins and a blanket of animal hide wrapped around her shoulders.
It was Nicolette. She was far from her encampment, and the energy surrounding her was drenched in apprehension. Raven knew her mother waited for two brothers to return from the hunt. One of the brothers was her husband, Running Bear.
“White Dove,” a voice called from up the sloping hillside. “Your daughter wants to be fed.”
Without a thought, Raven knew she was the little girl waiting to eat.
“I’ll be right there,” the young woman answered. Instead of mists filling the air, a cloud of dust whirled, and the pounding of hooves made the earth tremble. As the clouds settled, Raven could see a herd of buffalo racing through a valley. Brightly painted ponies galloped along the perimeter of the herd.
“Chief Running Bear, Storm Cloud has two down, and I’ve got one. Snake took two…”They spoke in a foreign tongue, yet Raven understood every word.
“Good. I have two back by the clearing, and I’ve got my eye on this big male…” With an explosive burst of energy, the man called Running Bear threw his spear into the hide of the massive buffalo, hitting him right in his neck. The beast kept running.
Raven heard words coming from the other man’s mind-evil thoughts.
“I could throw my spear right into the chief’s heart and no one would know it wasn’t an innocent mistake-one of the dangers of the hunt. Then, White Dove would be mine.”
Only Running Bear’s brother, Red Hawk, didn’t know another warrior looking in his direction was thinking similar sinister thoughts. The faces melted into their present incarnations, Running Bear became Tobias and Red Hawk morphed into Frank. The angry warrior turned into Laroque.
Over and over, the scenes played out in Raven’s dreams of the love affairs between Nicolette and Philippe, Frank and Tobias. All three men vied for her affection, and in each lifetime, her heart belonged to Tobias.
The car swerved over a bump in the road and jarred Raven back to consciousness. She opened her eyes, her mind still a jumble of sights and feelings from times long since past. Feelings that were still very much alive in her present.
It was clear this drama would continue to play out in subsequent lifetimes unless there was some kind of resolution.
Could she also be enslaved to her own saga lifetime after lifetime? Was there a similar connection between Bethany, Bo and herself? Did she really want to create
