Page 52 of Dark Rebel’s Reckoning (The Children Of The Gods #93)

52

KYRA

T he penthouse was quiet when Kyra and Max returned from the briefing. The living room was empty, and for a moment, Kyra wondered if everyone had gone to bed, but then she heard soft voices drifting from the girls' rooms.

"They're still up," she murmured, relieved she would have a chance to see them once more before going to sleep. She needed to hug each and every one of them.

Max squeezed her hand gently before releasing it. "Go, do some bonding with your nieces. I'll be in the home office, going over the mission specs again."

Kyra nodded. "Thank you," she said, suddenly feeling the inadequacy of words.

How did you properly thank someone who had not only risked his life to save yours, but was willing to risk it again for people he'd never met, simply because they mattered to you?

"No thanks needed," Max replied with that crooked smile that never failed to stir something inside her. "Get some rest, my warrior queen. Tomorrow we fight."

As he disappeared down the hallway to the office, Kyra watched him walk with that confident swagger of a man who knew his own worth. Only when he was out of sight did she head toward the sound of voices.

She found Jasmine and the girls in Arezoo and Laleh's room, Jasmine sitting cross-legged on the floor between the two beds. The girls were wearing new pajamas, looking impossibly young and sweet with their damp hair and fresh faces.

"Everything okay?" Kyra asked from the doorway.

Five heads turned toward her. Jasmine's face lit up with a smile that was quickly followed by a more complicated expression—relief mingled with worry.

"We were just talking about the village," Jasmine said.

"Did you hear anything about our family?" Arezoo asked.

"They're all safe for now. Extra security has been posted at each sister's home."

"They can't stop the bad people," Laleh said softly. "They have magic," she added in a whisper.

"It's not magic," Arezoo said. "They have mind control like what Max showed us. But you are right. The regular guards can't stop them."

Kyra crossed the room and sat on the edge of Laleh's bed. "You're right," she said, not sugarcoating the reality. These girls had endured too much to be patronized now. "But we're going to get them out."

"All of them?" Donya, who was hugging a pillow while resting her back against Laleh's knees, asked, "including our father?"

"No, not him," Kyra admitted. "I'm still not sure what to do about him."

"Leave him," Donya said. "He doesn't love us."

"I'm sure that's not true." Jasmine turned toward the girl. "He might not show his emotions, but I'm sure he loves you."

"He doesn't." Donya joined Jasmine on the floor. "He calls us useless girls and berates our mother for not giving him a son. The idiot doesn't even know that he is the one who determines the baby's gender. Didn't he go to school?"

The other girls looked at her with stunned expressions, probably because none of them would have dared to say a thing like that before, but Donya's eyes blazed with defiance. "You are all thinking it, and it's time someone said it."

The other girls did not protest, so Kyra took this to mean that they agreed with Donya.

"Okay. That's good. I mean it's bad because you deserve a father who loves you. But it's good that no one would care if he's left behind." She cast a quick glance at Laleh, who had previously voiced a different opinion.

She'd said that her mother would miss their father, but perhaps her sisters had convinced her that wasn't true.

"You'll be doing him a favor," Arezoo murmured. "You have no idea how many times he threatened our mother that he will take another wife. The only reason he hasn't is because it is frowned upon even though it is allowed."

A long moment of silence followed, and then Jasmine rose to her feet. "Time for sleep, ladies. It's a big day tomorrow for all of us." She bent to kiss Laleh's forehead, then Arezoo's. "I'll be right next door if you need anything, okay? And tomorrow Ell-rom and I will move into Kyra's room so we can be close to you."

That seemed to ease some of the tension, and after several rounds of hugs and kisses, final goodnights, and promises to wake them up before Kyra left in the morning, Kyra and Jasmine retreated to the living room.

Jasmine's posture changed as soon as they were alone, a subtle slumping of her shoulders that revealed the strain she'd been hiding from the girls.

"Finally," she said, sinking onto the sofa with unusual weariness. "I don't know how you maintain that steady confidence all the time. I'm exhausted just from an evening of trying to pretend everything is hunky-dory, and I'm an actress, which means pretending is my thing."

Kyra joined her, tucking one leg beneath her as she turned to face her daughter. "You've had a full life with many experiences. My life was one-dimensional. I was a rebel and then a rebel leader, and I always had to keep up the brave face because I could never let the team see me wobble." She smiled when a sudden thought occurred to her. "Perhaps you got your knack for acting from me. During the many infiltrations and reconnaissance missions, I've played different characters. Frankly, those were the moments I was most terrified because I was on my own without any backup."

"You were?"

"Well, maybe terrified is too strong of a word. Anxious. Determined. A little angry."

"Angry?"

"At those who took my memories away." Kyra's hand went to her pendant, finding comfort in its familiar weight. "I'm still angry about all the time that was stolen from us."

Jasmine's eyes started to glisten. "And now that we've finally found each other, you have to leave." She shook her head, frustration evident in the tight line of her mouth. "I know you have to go, but I don't have to like it."

The raw emotion in her daughter's voice pierced Kyra's heart. She reached across and took Jasmine's hand. "I don't like it either," she said softly. "If there were any other way…"

"There isn't." Jasmine squeezed her fingers. "I know that. Those are my aunts, my cousins. They deserve the same chance we've been given." She attempted a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Doesn't mean I won't be counting the minutes until you're back."

"I'll be careful," Kyra promised. "I've survived worse odds with far less support."

"You'd better." Jasmine's voice took on an imperious tone. "I have plans for us when you get back, you know."

"Like what?"

Jasmine's expression softened. "Mother-daughter things. Shopping trips. Movie nights." She pursed her lips. "We can sing together."

Kyra had no idea if she had a good singing voice. She occasionally hummed a tune, but she didn't remember ever singing.

"I don't know if I can measure up."

"I remember you singing to me when I was little. In my mind, it sounded beautiful."

"I don't remember that," Kyra admitted. "I don't know any children's songs or lullabies. In fact, I don't remember the lyrics to any songs. The best I can do is hum a tune." She sighed. "Even my short-term memory leaves a lot to be desired. The monster in the dungeon might have given me immortality, but he did irreparable damage to my mind."

"You can train yourself to remember lyrics," Jasmine said. "It's a skill, and like everything else you want to get good at, it needs to be practiced." She smiled. "By the way, Max is an amazing singer. You should ask him to sing for you. If you have a good voice, we can have fun singing together."

She hadn't known that. What else didn't she know about the man who had captured her heart?

"Oh!" Jasmine straightened suddenly. "I almost forgot. I've got something for you. I'll be right back."

She hurried from the room, returning moments later with an object clutched carefully in her hands. As she settled back onto the sofa, Kyra saw that it was a jewelry box.

"I brought this from the village and forgot about it." Jasmine shook her head. "Perhaps the memory thing is hereditary." She opened the box and handed it to Kyra. "I thought these might help you remember."

Two delicate rings, a gold chain, and a photograph, worn at the edges and slightly faded with age.

Kyra took the photo, holding it gently with just the tips of her fingers, and her heart accelerated as she absorbed the image. Three people smiled back at her from another lifetime—a handsome blond man, his arm wrapped proudly around her shoulders. She hadn't changed much except becoming harder. Between them sat a small dark-haired girl, her tiny hands reaching up to cup both parents' cheeks, her smile radiant with uncomplicated joy.

They looked happy. All three of them. The man—Boris—was younger than in the photo Jasmine had shown her before, his face unlined, his eyes bright with contentment. And Kyra looked soft and carefree, with a wide smile and rosy cheeks.

"That's the three of us," Jasmine said softly. "Before you were taken."

Emotion surged in Kyra's chest, a complicated mixture of loss and longing so intense it threatened to overwhelm her. Her fingertips traced the faces in the photograph, lingering on her sweet child.

"You were so beautiful," she whispered. "Are beautiful."

"I have your eyes," Jasmine said, leaning closer. "And your hair. But I have Boris's build. He's a big guy, and I'm a big girl. I mean tall. Well, I also have the hips and ass to match, but I'm not complaining. I like my curvy body."

"You are perfect," Kyra managed through a tight throat.

This was evidence of a life she couldn't remember—proof that she had once been someone else, someone who had loved and been loved in return.

"I'm sorry," Jasmine said, misreading her silence. "I thought it might help you remember. I didn't mean to make you sad."

"No," Kyra managed, finally finding her voice. "It's precious. Thank you for showing me." She reluctantly put the photo back in the box. "You should keep it safe."

"The box is yours, and so are the rings and the chain, but I'll make a copy of the photo for you," Jasmine promised. "In fact, I'll make two blown-up copies so we can both have one to frame and hang on the wall in our houses."

"I'd like that," Kyra said, wiping at her eyes. "Very much."

"I also want to keep the tarot cards if you don't mind." Jasmine opened a secret compartment in the box and pulled out a velvet pouch. "I'm attached to this deck. I can get you a new one."

Kyra shook her head. "Keep everything. I just want a copy of the photo."

"Would you at least take the rings?" Jasmine asked. "I've never worn them. I've just kept them in the box, cherishing everything inside because that was all I had left of you. But now I have all of you, and it would make me happy if you put the rings on."

Kyra couldn't say no to that. Pulling the two rings from the box, she slid them over her fingers. "If I brought these with me from home, my sisters might recognize them "

"It didn't even cross my mind, but you are right." Jasmine pulled out the thin gold chain and handed it to Kyra. "Put this on as well. You can keep it under your shirt."

The rings still fit perfectly, and the chain rested against her chest without interfering with her pendant.

For a long moment, the two of them sat in comfortable silence, both lost in thoughts of what might have been.

"I've been thinking about what happens when you bring everyone back," she said. "Practical matters, I mean. Housing. Integration."

Kyra welcomed the shift to more pragmatic issues. "Is there enough room in the village for everyone?"

"More than enough," Jasmine assured her. "Right now, Ell-rom and I share a house with his twin sister Morelle and her mate Brandon—he's the one who arranged for the personal shopper—for reasons that I don't want to bother you with, but we've been talking about getting our own place." A smile curved her lips. "I would love us to live next to each other."

"That would be amazing. How many available houses are there?" Kyra asked, already trying to envision what life might look like with all her sisters and their children in one place.

"Enough," Jasmine said. "Kian wanted his sister Sari to move her part of the clan into the village, and he built it to be big enough for every clan member to have a house of their own, but she decided against it. Then the Kra-ell joined the clan, which is another story that I will tell you when you come back. Then there is Kalugal and his former Doomers, who have a dedicated section of the village as well."

Kyra frowned. "Former Doomers live in the village? I thought they were the enemy. The devil's spawn."

Jasmine laughed. "Most of them are, but there are exceptions. I'll tell you about that too." She squeezed Kyra's hand. "We have so much to talk about, so many things to tell each other."

"I'm looking forward to it. And I'm also looking forward to reconnecting with my sisters and hearing all of their stories."

Jasmine's face lit up. "There's a cul-de-sac near the old center of the village with four houses around it, and by old I mean nearly brand new, but I digress. Anyway, they're all empty right now because the Guardians who lived there moved to Kian's part of the village." Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "It would be perfect for us. You, me, Ell-rom, and all your sisters with their families. Everyone together but with their own private spaces."

The image was so vivid, so tantalizing, that Kyra clung to it. A safe haven for all of them, a place where they could heal and reconnect, where the children could grow up surrounded by family.

"It sounds magical," she admitted.

A shadow crossed Jasmine's face. "I wish I could come with you," she said, the words bursting out as if she'd been holding them back. "I hate the thought of you going into danger without me there. But I also know the girls need me here."

Kyra reached out to brush a strand of hair from Jasmine's face. "You're their anchor, Jasmine. Their link to this new world. And you are so strong. They know that they can count on you."

"Yes, and they are not wrong, but they need you more. Promise that you will come back."

The simple request carried the weight of all their lost years, all the separation and longing they'd both endured. Kyra felt her pendant warm against her skin, as if responding to the gravity of the moment.

"I promise," she said, meaning it with every fiber of her being. "Fate didn't bring us together only to tear us apart."

"I love you, Mom," Jasmine whispered. "I always have."

The words broke something open inside Kyra's chest—a dam holding back emotions she hadn't allowed herself to fully acknowledge. She reached for her daughter and hugged her tightly, breathing in the scent of her hair, memorizing the feel of her in her arms.

"I love you too," she whispered back, the words feeling both new and ancient on her tongue. "Subconsciously, I've always known you were out there. I just didn't dare to believe."