“Penny for your thoughts,” Zen said, his tone as even and playful as ever, but when I turned to face him, there was something belying that placid exterior—that flawless beauty meant to draw others to him. Wariness, I realized the longer I stared; at what, though, I couldn’t be certain.
“I’m merely working through the possible difficulties we could run into this evening, of which there are many.”
“Do you know what the plan for your sisters will be?”
I filled him in on those details that Willow had shared, which sadly were fewer than I'd have liked. He listened with rapt attention, then sat back in his seat. “So, it sounds as if we share the same goal: obtain the opal.”
“Only they will not risk innocent lives to do it,” I added, my tone cautionary.
“Xandros can’t risk humans at all, so that will work to our advantage.”
“Neither can you,” I reminded him.
“As I’ve said before, it should not come to that.”
I hoped that he was right about that.
I feared, however, that he was not.
We stepped out of our carriage in front of a high-end restaurant on the edge of the Twenty-First Ward. A few people congregated near the building’s entrance, heading inside at what should have been well after hours, but in that part of town, this would not be uncommon. Private parties occurred there quite often. There were few rules for the elite of New York City; money could make almost anything happen.
Zen took my arm and ushered me toward the grand building. A lone, well-dressed man awaited us at the door and opened it as we approached. “In the basement,” was all he said before he shut and locked the door behind us.
With a hand on the small of my back, Zen guided us through the dimly-lit space to the staircase at the back. Anticipation of what was to happen that night mixed with the feel of his palm pressed low against my spine, and that now-familiar sense of push and pull grew within me. Before I could pull away and start down the steps, he caught my arm and spun me gently to face him. The warm, exotic smell of him invaded my senses as he moved closer, reaching around my neck to tighten the ribbon that secured my mask. “Wouldn’t want that to come loose at an inopportune time,” he said as his hands drew away, brushing my neck as they did. The teasing in his fingertips as they slid across my skin lit my senses. Gone was the press of evil he normally emanated, replaced with something far more dangerous.
My breath caught as I stifled the shiver his touch evoked. “Shall I check yours?”
“If you’d be so kind.”
When he didn’t turn around, I did as he had and reached over his shoulder for the back of his head. My dress made the gesture far more challenging, and I was forced to the tips of my toes, putting my face a hair’s breadth from his. My chest grazed his as I pressed forward, hesitating for a moment as he stared down at me. The warmth of burning coals in his eyes sparked a fire deep in my belly, and I canted my head to break the intensity and avoid those full, pink lips that seemed to beckon me.
Working as quickly as my racing heartbeat, I tightened the ribbons. As I pulled away, his hands encircled my upper arms, holding me in place. “All better?” he asked, his voice low and husky and all for me.
“Yes…”
“Good. Then we should go.” But the demon didn’t move—and neither did I. We just stood there staring at one another, as though neither one of us knew what to do next.
He bowed his head lower and whispered in my ear. “Oleander…”
The way my name slid off his tongue shot a warning through my mind. Visions of Xandros the night he had first seduced me assaulted my brain, clearing it—reminding me of where I was and who I was with.
And what I was there to do.
With a deep breath, I pulled away. “We really should go.”
Before he could object, I turned on my heels, scooped up my ridiculous skirt, and started down the stairs. They were narrow and steep and seemed to go on forever, turning to the right every ten steps. Candlelight danced along the walls as we went deeper below ground, until finally we came upon a vast room—one far too large and open to be a cellar. It looked like a lavish underground ballroom, filled with New York’s elite.
“Well, this is most unexpected,” Zen whispered in my ear. His playful, baiting tone had returned, as though nothing had just transpired between us, and I began to wonder if I’d imagined the whole encounter—misinterpreted his actions. “How do humans not suspect magic is at play here?”
“Because they would have to believe that was possible in the first place, and they do not,” I replied, biting the words out with a bitterness that I hadn’t expected and that wasn’t appropriate for the situation at hand. My emotions were seeping through, and there was no room for that on a mission like ours. “It is more palatable to believe that, for example, some rich man built this as a hidden palace away from his dreadful wife than to even consider that something supernatural is occurring. Their narrow minds are our greatest asset in the effort to keep the two worlds separate.”
“Except for the witch trials a couple of hundred years ago…”
“They only burned one witch. The rest were humans that paid for her foolishness.”
“And yet you protect these humans—creatures that would burn you alive if they knew you existed.”
I slowly turned into him, my cheek skimming the smooth fabric of his lapel as I lifted my chin to face him. “Women—human and witches alike—have long been subjected to a patriarchal society that, at best, sees them as lesser. Weaker. At worst, men see us as theirs for the taking; whipping posts for their insecurities and shortcomings. Outlets for their anger. Until that changes, I will protect those women with my life, as my mother tried to protect me.”
Anger tightened his features as that amber glow filled his dark stare. “You, Andy my dear, do not require protection.”
His stern expression was both sobering and unexpected. “Isn’t that why you’re here? Isn’t that precisely what our bond does?”
He shook his head. “I am here to stop Xandros from getting the Demonheart, as are you. Now, we need to locate both him and the Lilies before we attempt to find the opal. Xandros will be expecting trouble of some kind or another and will have brought reinforcements because of this. I want to know where your witches are so that I can have eyes on them, as well as the demons, at all times.”
“I can’t sense Xandros or any other demons,” I said, casting him a wary glance, “yet.”
“Then we find your Lilies first and deal with him when he arrives.”
From the shadows near the wall, we circled the room in search of the witches in question. The sheer size of the crowd made that challenging, but I had seen Ivy and Willow dressed in such finery many times and quickly recognized them standing near Judge Cartwright. Hazel and Petal would have been left behind, according to Willow’s account of the plan, so unless Ivy had intentionally misdirected her, we wouldn’t have to worry about their presence—or ambush.
“Over there,” I said, pulling Zen close to whisper in his ear. “They’re making their way over to the judge—probably trying to learn where the opal is.”
“Then we should go eavesdrop, don’t you think?” He gave me his elbow and I took it, as propriety demanded. With grace and speed, he wove us around the room. I held my breath as we approached Willow and Ivy, afraid that if he was wrong about his amulet, I’d be exposed for the liar that I was—perhaps even a traitor. Because I was going against my own guild to retrieve the Demonheart Opal. I feared that truth would come to light eventually.
I hoped it would not be that night.
As we grew nearer, they took no notice of us at all; their focus was entirely on the portly man all puffed up like an overstuffed peacock in his emerald green coat and top hat. Not even when the hem of my dress brushed against Willow’s purple gown did their attention falter.
“I can scarcely believe it,” Ivy said, pressing her hand to her chest. “It’s breathtaking, don’t yo
u think, Willow?”
“Truly,” the quiet witch replied just loud enough to be heard over the crowd. “The whole event is marvelous.”
The judge’s eyes raked over her, and the desire to skin him alive burned within me, but Zen tightened his arm around mine in warning, as though he could read my thoughts. Ivy inched closer to the judge to steal his attention from Willow, and he took the bait. His eyes lingered on her chest as he smiled at her like the lecherous old man he was. “So tell me, Miss Foxglove, what brings you here this evening?” His hand fell upon her shoulder, and I cringed as she smiled and laughed, showing none of the repugnance I knew she felt. Willow inched away slightly, but her expression remained a pleasant mask.
“I had my eye on a few items during the viewing,” she replied sweetly, “but I don’t dare tell you which ones for fear you’ll drive the price up, or dare I say, steal them right out from under me!”
The judge broke into raucous laughter, drawing the attention of those around us. “My dear, I wouldn’t dare take something precious from you.” He leaned in closer to her as I slowly walked past. “Unless you wanted me to…”
Rage coursed through me, and fire prickled my fingertips until Zen’s hands encircled mine and he turned me away from the judge, pressing his cheek to mine, his deep voice rumbling in my ear. “Easy now, Andy…”
“Perhaps something could be arranged,” Ivy said as I tried to calm myself—no easy feat with Zen’s light breath tickling my neck.
“Name your price.” The hunger in the judge’s voice made my skin crawl, and Zen’s grip on my hands intensified.
“I’d like to see one of the items again. Do you think you could make that happen? A man of your power and influence surely holds sway at events such as this.”
“Of course I do. Which item is it you desire?”
“The opal. I need to get a closer look to decide if it’s worth the price.”
I dared a look over my shoulder just in time to see the judge’s eyes lingering on Ivy’s plunging red neckline yet again. “Let me go see what I can do.” He gave a curt bow, then turned and headed toward a doorway on the far side of the room where we’d yet to venture. Zen and I quickly moved to follow, navigating carefully around Willow and Ivy as they whispered to one another, undoubtedly about their next move.
“That sister of yours has quite a way of getting what she wants,” Zen said as we passed a group of distinguished-looking men, drinking and carrying on as though this were their own private party.
“Ivy’s breasts render precious little impossible.”
“I can see why.” Though it made no sense, jealousy shot through me at the thought of Zen ogling Ivy’s breasts. “But yours have an allure you should not discount, Andy my dear.”
My cheeks flushed as we pressed closer to the edge of the crowd, careful to keep a safe distance from the judge. He knocked on the heavy wooden door and waited for it to open. A man—or being—poked his head out, and the two exchanged a quick word before the judge gave a tight nod and headed back into the crowd.
Then the door snapped shut.
“How are we to get in there?” I whispered in Zen’s ear, my lips grazing his earlobe for a fraction of a second. His arm went taut where I held it, then slackened.
He reached inside his coat and pulled out a sapphire blue crystal, hanging from a leather cord, that sparkled in the firelight as it dangled it in front of me. “This should do the trick.”
I reached for the pendant, but he quickly withdrew it, which further piqued my curiosity—and concern. “And what is ‘the trick’, I wonder…”
“You shall soon see.”
He led me toward the door and knocked on it with three rhythmic taps. Wood creaked as it pushed open, revealing the same dark-haired man the judge had just spoken with. He looked us up and down, then grunted, “viewing’s over.” The thick oak door started to close in our faces, but Zen grabbed its edge and held it open against the man’s best efforts to close it. “Let go!”
“You’re going to let us enter,” Zen said, pressing the crystal to the man’s neck. His eyes glowed blue for a second, then glazed over as he was entranced by the magic in the talisman. “And then you’re going to forget we were ever here.” The man stepped backward in silence, allowing us to pass. “How very gracious of you, good sir,” Zen said as he guided me into a wide corridor of sorts made of stone—something that looked far more like what one would expect to be below a tavern.
“Easy as can be,” Zen whispered as we hurried down the way. But the voices in the distance made me question just how easy it would remain, even if those voices belonged to supernatural beings. Assuming we could slip past them unnoticed, we still had no idea what sort of magic would be guarding the items for sale, particularly the Demonheart.
But that concern was soon eclipsed by the low thrum of evil emanating from the depths of the corridor—the faint prickle of demonic energy in the air. I pulled Zen to a halt so I could focus. “I feel something,” I said softly. “Like a demon, but not.”
“The Demonheart,” he replied. “It must be the Demonheart.” With renewed urgency, he continued through the hallway that led into the unknown.
“Don’t forget the guards.”
“I have all we need to deal with them,” he replied. My hackles rose at the words ‘deal with’, but he’d made a promise not to harm anyone unnecessarily, and I wanted to believe that—to believe him. As if he could sense my unease, he stopped to assess me, narrowed eyes scrutinizing what little he could see of my expression through the lace mask. “Are you still prepared to do what needs to be done to procure the Demonheart, Andy?”
I swallowed back my hesitation. “We must obtain it before Xandros or the others.”
A wicked smile crept across his face. “Then let us go and get it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
He released my arm and led us down the hall that seemed to be infinite. With every step, my nervousness grew, creating a deep-seated need to release that welling energy inside. My gaze shifted to Zen’s body, moving through the shadows with grace and stealth, and that energy shifted dangerously low in my gut, tugging at a part of me I’d long ago closed off. A part of me that was most certainly not the answer to my predicament.
Fixing my eyes firmly down the corridor, I could see the opening from which the voices came. The soft glow of light grew brighter, and with every step, I could feel the power of what we assumed was the Demonheart Opal grow stronger.
The hall took a turn and Zen stopped before it, pressing himself flat to the wall. He dared the slightest look around the corner while I held my breath, hoping that whoever awaited us there wasn’t human. “Two,” he whispered to me.
“Humans?”
“Only one way to find out.” He winked at me in the dim light, then stepped out into plain view. I cringed, awaiting the cries of warning, but none came. I inched out to join Zen, and the two of us snuck past the open door and the two men standing on either side of it into the room beyond. It felt incredibly wrong to be able to slip between them as they held their posts, but we did just that. Then we were in the room of treasures about to be auctioned off.
And that aura of evil grew stronger still.
“There it is,” he whispered, pointing to a glass case that held the shriveled black heart. It took a moment for Zen’s description to come back to me, reminding me that it looked different to our eyes than to humans’. To me, it was far from a beautiful prize—it was a means to an end.
I moved forward but he cut me short, catching me around the waist. “Wait.” He pulled something out of his coat pocket and held it out in front of him. What appeared to be a piece of rough-cut iron sat in his palm as he slowly pointed it into the room. “To detect the wards,” he explained. “Now we can go.”
With cautious, measured steps, we walked deeper into the room, Zen’s iron ward detector scanning the area with our eerie advance. The metal began to vibrate as we neared the table with the glass box contai
ning the Demonheart, and Zen reached into his pocket of magical wonders yet again, searching for something else. If he’d had a soul to sell to the druid he’d obtained the items from, he would have had it no longer.
A bright red marble appeared from beneath his fitted coat, and he dropped it on top of the case. Together, we leaned in and watched as it melted slowly, dripping down the planes of glass until the Demonheart was no longer visible. Then, in a blink, the magic from that tiny orb disappeared, and the iron in Zen’s hand stopped vibrating. He gave me a playful wink as he reached for the glass enclosure, and my breath caught in my throat. This was the moment we’d been working toward. This was the final step to defeating and destroying Xandros forever. A mix of relief and elation came over me as Zen’s hand moved toward the glass. The vengeance and victory I’d been seeking for so long was finally within reach.
“Well hello there,” he whispered as his fingertips touched the case.
Then a thunderous crack exploded through the air like a gunshot, throwing Zen backward into the far wall. He crashed against it with a horrible thud and fell to the ground. Pain tore through my spine, and I crumpled to the ground, fighting for breath—until I wasn't. The sharp, stabbing sensation paralyzing my back and lungs quickly faded away like smoke in the wind, leaving me virtually unscathed.
My gaze lifted to see Zen staring back at me, eyes wild with our shared surprise.
“Was that—”
“Our bond?” he said, finishing my thought for me. “Yes. Quite handy, is it not?”
“And the other? The explosion?”
The scowl on his face as he stood to make his way over told me all I needed to know. “That was magic the druid’s nullification orb didn’t account for, or so it seems.”
A Curse of Nightshade (Witches of the Gilded Lilies Book 1) Page 19
