Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The headache was back. Everest wanted to blame Quentin. But that was a lie as the mind-reading witch had done little more than stand around and peer through already open doors. He hadn't rummaged through his thoughts the way Coven mind readers did. And while Quentin was untrained, he was also Kaine's fated mate. Fated mates wasn't something he'd allowed for in his plans.

And since Quentin knew what he'd done, that meant Kaine knew.

And if Kaine knew, it was safe to assume all his brothers knew—they were supposed to find out, as he had left detailed notes for them. It was the timing that bothered him.

If they didn't trust him and acted too fast, everything would come unstuck.

He needed to act faster, and Cadel was willing to help. He hadn't expected to have a willing accomplice.

Thousands of memories allowed him to weigh up the situation and potential outcomes. It was no different to playing chess. There were only so many options, and people were predictable. He had more than enough data to make accurate determinations. "Make your call."

Kaine already knowing could work in his favor.

But he hadn't expected Gerrit to lock him up for treason. It had been an unpleasant surprise as Everest thought he'd healed that rift. Clearly not from the way Gerrit looked at him while ordering his arrest…

A lump formed in his throat, and for a couple of seconds, the weight of everything became too much. He didn't want his brothers getting hurt. Not that they were his brothers by blood, only by kind. He wanted to tell them everything he'd remembered, all the things he hadn't had time to put in his books. All the details that would once again be forgotten when he died.

But they didn't trust him, and he wasn't sure they'd believe him.

Most of the time, they treated him like a child.

The only reason they let him work for the Coven was because they needed him. He'd been the perfect bait to draw the Shadow Board out, or at least that was the seed he'd planted. Sure enough, it had taken hold, and Dalmon had convinced himself that Everest was the in with the Board they needed.

Despite the centuries, his brothers hadn't changed that much. It was almost too easy to push the buttons and get them to do what he wanted.

Cadel gave a sharp nod and stood.

Everest tracked the lion shifter as he stretched, then walked towards the door to make the call. It was obvious Cadel was a feline shifter. It was the way he moved, the way he sat ready to leap into action or take a nap, depending on which way the coin fell.

He researched all his bodyguards and had since he was fifteen. By the time he was sixteen, he understood how to get what he wanted from them. Cadel was different. Not because he was aloof the way some people thought cat shifters were—Everest had never found that to be true, though they were a good judge of character and didn't waste their time with those who would waste theirs—no, it was as if Cadel expected Everest to bite, and so he watched Everest the way one watched a scorpion.

He remembered living in a desert and had felt the sting. And if he closed his eyes, he'd be able to sink into the memories of that life, and it would be as if he were three thousand years in the past. Everest bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to stay in the present.

In the tunnels beneath the castle, he'd heard echoes of the other times he'd spent there. Even sitting in the barn, he heard or saw flickers of the times he'd spent there with Olier and before he had used that name, which wasn't helping with the ache the soul bruise caused. The loss, and his part in it, was an open wound that hadn't healed with time.

Unable to live with it two lifetimes ago, he'd come up with a plan to fix it. This life had been planned. All he needed to do was see it through.

Cadel leaned against the door, back to him, keeping his voice low.

Bridgeman's refusal to follow had been a shock—he'd expected sex to ensure his loyalty. And he didn't like the way Cadel had deduced that he needed someone, even though he wasn't correct about the reasons. Not entirely, anyway.

Given Cadel's background, it was unsurprising that he didn't trust him. He would've heard the stories, and Dalmon would've warned him. Everest could imagine his brother saying he seduced every bodyguard ever assigned to him.

He hadn't .

But it was convenient because being a prince under the watchful eye of a bodyguard made hooking up very difficult. He was nineteen, and there was a part of him that wanted to live his own bloody life. This life wasn't his…not in the way it should be. And while he'd examined the memories of his previous two lives in depth to understand every string he'd pulled and every knot he'd tied, and he understood why the soul bruise needed healing—aside from the constant pain—and that rescuing Olier was the right thing to do, this life was merely the last few moves in a long game, and he was trying not to be bitter about it.

Unlocking the memories three years ago had been the start of the plan.

The headaches had been more or less constant for the last six months.

For the last three months, when he was in familiar places, there were echoes as the memories of different lives piled on top of each other. There was a reason he didn't return to the castle often, even though it hurt Gerrit. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt him again…hurt him more. They'd hurt each other so many times over the centuries.

In his last life. In this life.

He'd failed as a father and was failing as a son. But if he didn't find Olier this time, there may not be a next time. His brothers wouldn't let him do this again.

He wasn't sure he wanted to do it again. All he could do was hope the magic hadn't broken something within him and that when he hatched next time, everything would be as it should be. He'd be a clean slate with no memories of the past.

Cadel stared out the dirty window into the night.

Everest massaged his temples even though it wouldn't do anything; given how the headaches were increasing, he figured he had months left, not years, the way he'd expected—the way previous him had expected when he'd gotten the spell. But he'd left a note warning himself that it might be fatal.

All he needed to do was retrieve Olier, and then he could return home and face his brothers' wrath. He didn't know how the line of succession would work if he wasn't alive, but it wouldn't be his problem. Unless they hatched him immediately—he hoped they didn't.

Cadel glanced at him, and Everest dropped his hands. He did not want his bodyguard telling Kaine that something was wrong with him; otherwise, Kaine would send in his Black Ops team to haul him home. Being stuck in the castle made the headaches worse. Too many lives. Too many memories.

This phone call was taking too long. Everest spun his finger in the universal signal to wrap it up. Cadel nodded, and ten seconds later his phone was back in his pocket, and he returned to the fire.

His eyes reflected the golden flames, and Everest wondered what he'd look like as a lion. Would he look more like a European lion or more like an African one?

Lions liked to keep their bloodlines pure. Most of the cat shifters did. But Cadel's grandparents had broken that rule, which can't have made growing up easy.

"Well? Are we about to be surrounded by men with guns, or are we allowed to cross the border?" He pulled together contingencies as he spoke.

Cadel considered him for a couple of seconds. "Who do you think I work for?"

"That is a tricky question because National Security pays your wage, making Kaine your boss. However, you are paid to protect me and serve me."

"I work for you . My job is to keep you alive. I realize you have no intention of making that easy for me, so it's a good thing I enjoy a challenge."

Everest smiled. "You spent ten years as a cop. You'd be bored following me around to balls and political talks and university lectures all day."

"Being bored is underrated. Besides, I might enjoy attending a few university classes."

"Help me find Olier, and I will make sure you can attend as many classes as you want." They wouldn't be with him, though. His mind was breaking.

That pause again as if Cadel was aware something was wrong but didn't know how to say it. Ah…perhaps he'd been told about the unlocking spell. But his brothers didn't know about the side effects. He hadn't known about them.

No doubt that was deliberate.

He'd been an old man when he found someone to tell him how to unlock his mind. A Shadow Board witch had owed him a favor. Back then, the witches had been content with keeping the laws in their favor and dictating how to run the country. Something had changed in the time he was an egg waiting to be hatched.

"We will be cleared to cross the border come dawn. I am to report in every day. The Coven will provide assistance as required. Your brother said to be careful. They don't want to lose you."

Everest laughed. He was already lost. "First, they lock me up to keep me safe, and now they let me chase after him? What is really going on?"

Cadel stared at the fire. "The Shadow Board tried to hack into the security company. They could've destabilized governments around the world. This isn't a game."

"You don't think I know that? I trained with the Coven. They put me in place with the Shadow Board. "

"You're a double agent. And both sides are aware of that. The only thing we know for sure is that your brothers won't kill you."

He hoped they would when the weight of the past became too much. He would much rather be egged by his brothers than left to suffer as his mind disintegrated. "I'm sure you've been briefed in the correct protocol if I am killed?"

"Yes, though that assumes I am able to collect your egg without being killed myself."

Everest fluttered his fingers as though unconcerned. "The Shadow Board is in disarray. I will offer to help them in exchange for returning the phoenix. And if that fails, and I am captured, then please summon the Coven."

"Your plan needs work."

Everest barked out a laugh. He had been working on it for a total of three lives. He was so close to winning. A few more moves and he could be done. He was so tired of hurting and planning. "I need sleep. You can take the first watch. Oops." Everest covered his mouth. "There is no one to take second watch."

"I'm surprised Bridgeman didn't come, given that he was warming your bed."

"You can say it. He was fucking me. Though he wasn't doing a very good job of it." Which was disappointing, given his limited options. It also meant he'd misread Bridgeman's loyalty. "Are you disappointed you came…" Everest licked his lower lip. "Or not, as the case may be."

Cadel's lips curved as he shook his head. "Someone has to keep your ass safe."

"Then you'd better keep a close eye on it." Sure, according to what he found out about Cadel, he was straight, but that only meant he hadn't found the right man. Given that he only had months to live, Everest was more concerned about the right now man.

It didn't seem fair that he'd find Olier only to leave. But the guilt he'd carried through several lives would be discharged, and he hoped Olier would forgive him. That perhaps in their next lives, they could pick up where they had left off.

Until then, he only had the memories to warm him.

There was a part of him that knew it would never be the same as it was, and it was unreasonable to expect, especially when Olier had been gone so long. They were both different people, even though they had the same looks and personalities. There was another part of him which recognized that in fixing this soul bruise, he was causing another. By destroying this life, he was wounding Kaine, Dalmon and Gerrit.

But it had been two centuries, and someone needed to do something. And since he'd allowed Olier to be taken, getting him back was his responsibility. He'd written a lot in his book before working the magic. Had run through options and debated with himself about the right thing to do. But even at sixteen and barely shifting, he'd realized he was the one who had to do it. Everyone else already had jobs and responsibilities.

So he'd done the magic and gotten the memories…though they had taken a couple of months to fully unfold. And then started working to be where he needed to be. Which was here in a barn, close to the border of Switzerland.

Cadel picked up his blanket and sat next to him. "I don't need to stay up and keep watch because you're going to be next to me, and I sleep like a cat."

Everest glanced up at him. "And how exactly do cats sleep?"

"Lightly. So, if you need to take a piss or something, I suggest you wake me first."

"Or what?"

"I might accidentally pin you down."

Everest put a hand over his heart. "Are you flirting with me?"

Cadel growled, a deep rumble that rattled Everest's ribs. "If you want to do this, and you want to survive, we do it my way."

"Still flirting. Don't try so hard. I'll do anything you say." He leaned a little closer, knowing that Cadel wasn't flirting and that he was being serious. But he was flirting because if Cadel liked him a little too much, it might be easier to bend him to his will. Bridgeman was loyal but a coward. "As long as you call me ‘sir'."

"You're going to make this as awkward as possible, aren't you?"

"Moi? Non. I am being honest."

Cadel laughed. "Are you, sir? Because I'm not sure you know when you're lying."

Everest rocked back as if Cadel slapped him.

"I may not be as smart as you. But I'm a cat, and I was a cop. You have tells the same as any crook. Do you know when crooks get caught?"

"No." Everest was too shocked to say anything else. No one spoke to him like that. And until today, Cadel had been nothing but professional, no matter how much Everest had needled him.

"They grow cocky. They think they're smarter than everyone else. Or they become angry. Both lead to carelessness. And carelessness leads to death. I don't need to be fucking you to do my job."

"Perhaps not, but it makes things more fun." He hoped he hadn't gotten the last sex he was going to have in this life because it had been rather ordinary .

"This is a rescue, a hostage retrieval, and they are never fun."

Everest tilted his head. "You've done this before."

"Yes."

Cadel, who, until today, had been an absolute rule follower on the job, just got a little more interesting. Though, to be fair, the way he'd seemed immune to everything Everest threw at him was intriguing. It wasn't often anyone stood up to him, and Cadel wasn't the only one who liked a challenge. "Successfully?"

"The hostage was killed, but the criminals were arrested. You need to be prepared for that."

"Bringing him home as an egg is acceptable," Everest said carefully. It might be for the best given what the Shadow Board did to their bound shifters, the ones they didn't care about. He didn't know what kind of care they took of Olier. That they needed to raise him until he shifted around fifteen or sixteen, they'd want maximum value out of him, not just a few months or years. Everest hoped Olier had been well looked after.

Cadel lay near the fire and waited for Everest to join him.

"He will not be the man you remember. He's been held captive and tortured for over two hundred years. He may not want to escape. He might be convinced that the Shadow Board is doing the right thing."

"I have considered all of this." Everest lay down but left a couple of inches between his back and Cadel's chest.

"They may have told him his family sold him or that they hate him, and that's why they gave him up all those years ago. He may not be happy to see you."

Everest pressed his lips together. All scenarios he'd run through, but it was the way Cadel talked that raised more questions. "What makes you think I remember him?"

Cadel was silent .

Everest turned his head and put an edge in his voice. "Tell me."

"Am I wrong that you remember far too much?"

"No." Everest turned back to glare at the fire.

"What's your earliest memory?" Cadel's voice was soft.

"I haven't gone all the way back. There's too much." He only just managed to keep his voice level. He'd needed the memories to help him find Olier, but he wanted to learn more about their past. But there was so much. So many lives, so many deaths.

And Everest always ended up alone.

Dying alone.

Dalmon hated him.

Gerrit was hurting.

Kaine was always a willing challenger.

Olier had always been a friend and confidant and lover.

Cadel sighed. "Perhaps carrying centuries of hurt is not good for the soul."

"Perhaps. But it was the only way to outsmart the Shadow Board." He wished he had come up with a better plan last life because while following his own advice and plans had seemed like a good idea three years ago, he was now questioning himself. "And find the truth."

"What truth are you searching for?"

Why was he so unlovable? But even as he thought the question, the quip rolled off his tongue, pushing away the man he needed to get him out alive. "You forget yourself, McKeon."

Cadel didn't move, but there was a shift in his energy and his tone was clipped. "Goodnight, sir."

The lion fell asleep before he did, but he didn't consider running because every memory he had backed up Cadel's claim that he couldn't do this on his own.

He needed Cadel .

And he hated that because needing people led to being let down. To being abandoned and left alone. The pain of being the only one alive in his last life was a soul bruise that hadn't faded. He shouldn't have hatched them all, but he couldn't stand being old and alone again. At least this time, he'd die young and, if he was lucky, surrounded by his brothers. Maybe they'd be proud of him for a change.