Dead City

by Debbie Cassidy

  He got to his feet, chest heaving, eyes blazing. It was the most affected I’d ever seen him. “Do you want me to feed on you? Really? Is that really what you want?”

  Yes. Yes, it was. Right then, at that moment, that was all I wanted. Me but not me.

  He must have read the conflict on my face because he bridged the gap between us and pulled me into his arms.

  “Stop me.” His tone was a husky whisper. “I’m hungry, Echo. I fought and healed, and I’m fucking hungry, so stop me.”

  No fighting.

  My hands slid up his arms, over his taut biceps and to his shoulders.

  “Stop me.” He dipped his head into the crook of my neck and brushed my skin with his lips. “Stop me, Echo.” He sounded pained, his grip on me too tight. “Just say the words.”

  What was I doing? What was …

  He kissed my neck, his caress feather-light, and then his tongue flicked out to taste me. My moan mingled with his groan.

  “Echo, tell me to leave. Tell me to let go.”

  “I … I can’t.”

  “If you don’t, I will bite you. I’ll sink my fangs into you, and I will drink you, and then … God help me, Echo. I don’t know what else I might do.”

  The yearning was strong, the need to have him inside me was a craving. But this wasn’t me. This was something else. This was the power inside me, speaking … sentient? Hell no. I pushed him back with my mind and felt its grip slip.

  Sorry. So sorry.

  The craving, the desperate yearning, ebbed, leaving me clear-minded. Just me, Deacon, and his arms around me, his mouth on my skin, his tongue tasting me. My stomach flipped with desire, and I stepped into him before checking myself and pulling back.

  He released me abruptly and turned his back on me. His shoulders heaved, but he didn’t speak.

  “I’m sorry.” My voice cracked. “I don’t know what happened to me. I just … I can’t explain it.”

  He held up a hand. “It’s all right.” His voice was thick. Was he speaking around his fangs?

  He’d fought and healed, and shit, he must be hungry. “When’s the last time you fed?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “A month ago.”

  A month … wait. “Was it when you fed off me on the Run? When you were dying?”

  “Yes.”

  He hadn’t fed since? Shit. “You can feed from me.” The words were out before I could check them.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  He turned to face me, his eyes bright in his face, twin spots of color high on his cheeks. Fuck, he looked gorgeous.

  “Because right now, feeding won’t be enough.”

  What? What did he … Oh … I broke eye contact and dropped my gaze. The door opened and closed, and when I looked up, he was gone.

  I pressed a hand to my chest. The power was inside me, and it not only had a voice, it could also affect my emotions. Why me? Had it been a deliberate choice? Maybe it was chance. Whatever it was, my gut told me that Hunter had the answers I needed. All I needed to do was get him to talk.

  Chapter 14

  Micha was fast asleep when I peeked in on him at dawn. He was lying on his front, the blankets tangled around his waist and his broad back on display. Like that, the grooves in his skin where his wings materialized from were visible. How did it work? How could those huge wings fold up and fit inside him? It was inexplicable, it was beyond metaphysical.

  The urge to go into the room, to lie beside him, to stroke his cheek and breathe in his scent was an ache low in my belly, but he needed to rest and recuperate. The arcana had knitted the worst of his wounds and remade his wings, but there was still healing to be done, and he needed to recoup his strength. Sleep was the best medicine right now.

  I settled for blowing him a kiss. Walking away, that horrible feeling of having forgotten something filled the back of my mind. Was that what being kindred meant?

  “There you are.” Deacon appeared at the top of the corridor. “We’re leaving. This way.”

  With a final glance at Micha, I followed Deacon up the corridor and into the stone passage of the Keep. A flight awaited, and hopefully, when we got back to the Hive, I’d be able to get some answers from Hunter. And then there was Finn … My insides quivered. How would he take the news of my feelings for Micha? Would I end up losing the Lupin?

  “Stop thinking so hard,” Deacon said. “The tension you’re projecting is giving me a headache.”

  The corridor curved up and up, widening and opening out large enough to accommodate a Draconi in dragon form. A breeze tickled my cheeks and voices drifted out to greet me. We stepped through an arch into one of the cave exits to find Lyrian and Bastion standing in the dawn light.

  Bastian raised a hand in greeting, his smile warm, but Lyrian’s gaze was speculative. I was getting used to his cold demeanor, though. And he had saved my life.

  I walked over to him. “You giving me a ride?” I lifted my chin to look up at him, and he looked down his nose at me.

  “Of course he will. You’re family now,” Bastian said.

  Family?

  Bastian slung an arm around my shoulder and tugged me into his side. “The kindred of my brother is my sister-in-law.”

  Lyrian made a chuffing sound. “I guess it’s just as well I broke my no-dive-and-catch rule.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled up at him. “I mean it.” I reached out to touch his hand, and a shock ran through my fingers and up my arm. The breath rushed from my lungs, and the world tunneled in until it was just him and me.

  Darkness surrounded us. Lyrian stared at me, his eyes wide with shock. “Hell no.” He shook his head. “This cannot be happening.”

  He was staring at me now, really staring as if seeing me for the first time, and then he reached out and touched my face. Pleasant warmth seeped into my skin. It traveled down my neck to settle in my heart.

  “What is this?”

  “This is fucked up, that’s what it is,” Lyrian said softly, but there was only wonder in his tone.

  I wanted to hug him. To lay my cheek on his chest and just give him a squeeze. What the heck?

  “You can if you want to.” He said the words, but his mouth didn’t move. The words were in my head.

  There was a tightness around my arm, and then the world was rushing back in all its dawn-colored glory.

  I caught a glimpse of Lyrian’s shell-shocked face before he was hit by a crimson tornado.

  “Micha!” Bastian leapt into the fray, trying to get a hold of his brother. But Lyrian and Micha were grappling hand to throat.

  Shit. “Micha, Lyrian, stop.”

  They froze mid grapple and sprang apart, knocking Bastian back in the process.

  My head was reeling and pounding. “What the heck is going on?”

  Micha turned to me, his expression furious, and damn, I’d never seen him look so terrifying. I took an involuntary step back.

  “You’re scaring her,” Lyrian snapped.

  Micha closed his eyes and inhaled deep before exhaling through his mouth. “I’m sorry, Echo. I felt it and it felt invasive, and I …” He turned to Lyrian. “What did you do?”

  Lyrian’s gaze was on me. “I didn’t do anything. She touched me and … and it happened.”

  “What happened?” I looked from Micha to Lyrian. “Can someone please tell me what just happened?”

  “Lyrian just discovered you’re his scalemate,” Bastian said, shaking his head. “Motherfucker, this is insane.”

  He was right, it was insane? How could this be happening. Kindred to one and scalemate to another. I wasn’t one of them, and this made no sense, but right now Micha’s anxiety was a throbbing pulse in my heart, and Lyrian … Oh, God, he was in my head, a whirlwind of shock and confusion. Where was I? Where? The urge to fix this, to smooth it over, assaulted me.

  I bridged the gap between Micha and me and wrapped my arms around his waist. “He
y. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

  “She’s right,” Lyrian said. “It’s not sexual.”

  Micha’s body relaxed against me. “No?”

  “No.” Lyrian met my gaze over Micha’s shoulder. “It’s not like Mum and Dad’s kindred bond.” He canted his head. “This is the regular Draconi kindred bond.”

  I pulled back from Micha. “The soul mate, the close friend’s bond?”

  Lyrian’s throat bobbed. “Yes.”

  My stomach fluttered with an anxiety of my own. I looked to Deacon. “Can you please explain how this is even possible?”

  Deacon shook his head slowly. “No. I can’t. But I promise you, I’ll find the answers.”

  Micha released me with a tentative smile. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about the kindred thing. When I felt your touch the first time we shook hands, I thought … I thought I was imagining things, that it was a fluke. But then I felt it again on the Hawk, and again and again after that, and there was no denying my attraction. We had a connection, but I was afraid.”

  “Of what?”

  “You’re in love with Finn, and you said … You said you were a one-man woman.”

  I had said that. I’d believed it too, but … “I guess I was wrong. I guess my heart can cope with more than I thought it could.”

  He nodded, and then kissed my crown. “Go. Lyrian will get you safely back to the Hive. I’ll be with you in a day or so.” He gave me a lopsided smile.

  I pushed up on tiptoe and pressed my lips to his, soft and wanting but holding back. There would be plenty of time for more.

  I pulled away and caught Lyrian’s eye over Micha’s shoulder; there was darkness there, but then he dropped his gaze, and it was impossible to decipher what I’d seen, but I felt it, a stab in my heart, like a shard of glass. Pain.

  The ride back to the Hive was uneventful and almost pleasant. Lyrian didn’t fly too fast, he didn’t dip or swerve suddenly, and I was able to open my eyes and look, really look at the world below as we flew by. Deacon was on Bastian up ahead, holding on easily as the Draconi dipped and dove.

  You like what you see?

  His deep, rumbling voice in my head startled me, and I almost lost my grip on his scales.

  Hold on. There was amusement in his tone.

  I’m sorry. I thought the words back to him instinctively. I know this isn’t what you wanted. I don’t even understand it myself.

  It means we were meant to find each other, that we … that we were meant to be kindred spirits. The bond develops quickly between Draconi. If you’d been a Draconi, I would have known you were my scalemate sooner. In our case, it took us touching for the bond to activate.

  But we’ve touched before. I mean, you’ve given me lifts.

  I know. All I can surmise is that it needed to be … skin on skin.

  The way he said the words sent a shiver down my spine.

  So, what happens now?

  I don’t know.

  Silence settled between us, companionable, and the world below rushed by. I leaned into him, pressing myself to his obsidian scales, and closed my eyes.

  Don’t you want to see? he asked softly in my head.

  No. Fly … fly fast.

  His body vibrated against mine, into mine, and every inch of me was alive, and then we were shooting through the sky toward the Hive.

  Chapter 15

  Deacon

  Harker looks up from her desk as I enter. There are schematics spread out over the wooden surface, and there is a frown on her face.

  “Deacon?” She stands as I shut the door behind me.

  Forget the preamble and the easing in, my mind is on fire with conviction, and the words spill from my lips like an accusation. “What happened to Marika? What really happened?”

  Her face freezes for a moment, and then goes as blank as a sheet of unmarred paper. “You know what happened. She was killed activating the crystal, they all were. The last thirteen Arcana.”

  Her lie is a bitter taste in the air. “Yes, so you said. That was the story. An unexpected shockwave when linking the crystal to the Hive killed the last of the Merlin blood. But you see …” I stalk around the desk to stand in front of her. “I don’t believe you.”

  Before she can stop me, I’ve grabbed hold of her head, thumbs pressing into her temples. I dive into her mind, into her memories. Her cry of rage is cut off as I swim deeper, my grip unrelenting. Colors and faces whizz by, fear and sorrow, love and ecstasy. So many memories. A lifetime, a century, and then I see it. I see her face. I latch on to that thread and follow it deep into the maze that is Serenity Harker’s mind.

  “—Can’t let him know. You can’t tell him, promise me.” Marika is staring at me wide-eyed as I look back at her through Harker’s eyes. In Harker’s mind, Marika is stunningly alive. Her dark hair gleams in the lamplight, and her bronze skin glows with life. “I don’t want him to think I’m choosing to leave him. I don’t want him to hurt.”

  “He’s going to hurt, Marika. You can’t stop that.”

  Marika’s deep brown eyes brim with tears. “There is no other way.”

  “I know, but you don’t have to do this. We can come up with another plan.”

  “There is no other plan,” Marika says. “The crystal is humanity’s only hope, and it’s dead. This is the only way to give it life. The others agree. But this … this will have to stay between us. If it gets out … they might say that the council forced us to do this. They won’t believe that we’d willingly sacrifice ourselves.”

  Harker’s sorrow communicates itself to me in a tightening of my chest and the burning in my eyes.

  “You didn’t survive the war to die now,” Harker says.

  “But don’t you see, that’s exactly why I survived. It was all meant to be.”

  “I don’t know what I’ll do without you, Marika.” Harker embraces Marika, and for a moment, her scent is in my head, her body in my arms, and I am holding her. The woman I loved. The only woman I’ve loved.

  Marika pulls back, shaking her head and dislodging tears from her beautiful eyes. “We’ll do it tomorrow. Clear the hub, tell everyone that we’re activating the crystal, and then … once it’s over, you can retrieve … retrieve our bodies. This will save the Hive, Serenity. This will work.”

  “But I’ll lose you. We’ll lose the last of the Merlin bloods.”

  Marika’s smile is small and secretive. “There is a time for everything, Harker. And the Arcana will return. There are humans here that carry enough Merlin blood to channel the arcana the crystal will siphon from the air. The staffs and the smaller crystals will be their weapons, your defense.”

  The staffs were meant to be extras. The humans wielding them were meant to be extra bodies on the ground, but they’d ended up being our only defense.

  Marika takes Harker’s hand, and I feel the pressure of her fingers. “The world has changed; the delineations have changed. Draconi, Shedim, Merlin blood—they’ll mean little with each generation. Humanity is no longer pure, and soon there will be new races.”

  “The Interbreeding …”

  “Yes. There is hope. Hope that the Arcana will return.”

  “You saw something, didn’t you?” Harker says.

  Marika’s smile is confident, unafraid. “Maybe. But you know how it works.”

  “Yes. You can’t tell me.”

  She smiles. “If you knew, you might inadvertently interfere with fate. And on this occasion, I’d prefer you didn’t interfere, but I can tell you that I have put my own safeguards in place, and I can tell you that this … this starts with me and will end with someone spawned from the same blood tree as me.”

  A relation? Someone on the same family tree as Marika? Was the Patch family related to Marika somehow? And the safeguard … could that be Hunter, the shade?

  “Are you sure about this?” Harker asks.

  “Yes.” Marika raises her chin in a gesture that tells me there will be no dissuading her. “And now I’
m going to go and spend my final night with the man I love.”

  Harker watches her leave, her heart aching for what is to come. There is wetness on her face, but then she wipes at it with her sleeve and stands tall. This is what must be done to save the Hive, and she will not let Marika and the Merlin bloods’ sacrifice be in vain.

  I’m ejected from Harker’s mind by a hand around my throat, and then Bane’s fangs are in my face, his snarl a warning that he’s about to hurt me.

  “No!” Harker cries out. “Let him go, Bane. It’s okay.”

  Bane’s lip curls, and he yanks me close, so close I can see flecks of silver in his violet eyes. “Touch her again and I will rip your arms off.”

  I close my eyes, my throat tight, my chest aching. Marika sacrificed herself. She knowingly went into the hub and gave herself to the crystal.

  Bane releases me.

  “I’m sorry, Deacon,” Harker says. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but I had to honor my promise to Marika.”

  “She’s still here, isn’t she? In the crystal?”

  Bane looks to Harker, then back to me. “What’s this about?”

  Wait? She’s kept this from Bane too?

  Harker tucks in her chin. “This is something we’ll need to speak about privately, later,” she says to Bane, and from the tick in his jaw, it’s obvious it won’t be a pleasant conversation. “But for now, I can tell you that Marika and the Merlin bloods … it wasn’t an accident. They deliberately sacrificed themselves. They used their souls to activate the crystal.”

  “Is she in the crystal?” I press the issue, needing to know if the woman I loved is still alive.

  “I’m not sure,” Harker says. “For a while I dreamed about her, but then the dreams stopped. I’m not sure if the souls merely provided energy to spark the crystal to life, or if … if the souls are still inside, siphoning the arcana for us and acting as a conduit inside the structure.” She sighs. “I don’t think even Marika knew exactly how it would work, just that it would work, and it did.”

  The dreams … Vivid and real and coveted. But they’d stopped a year after her death. The pieces are falling into place now. Echo, the chasm, the voice … Marika’s voice and Echo’s abilities. Not to mention my insane attraction to the woman. Was I picking up on Marika’s presence? Was I merely looking for something that wasn’t there?