“Not fair,” she panted.
His lips brushed against hers, the spark of their touch rushing through him. He didn’t have to fake any sort of attraction to her. Their touch was electric.And her body responded in kind, the steely way she held herself melting against him, fitting her every contour to his like two pieces of a puzzle clicking into place.
He made quick work of his gloves, freeing his hands. Her heart thumped hard against his bare chest as he snaked a hand up the curve of her hip and around her back, climbing until he grasped the nape of her neck and pulled her lips hard against his, swallowing her gasp.
Every ounce of his desperation to be near her, to feel her—to be sure she was really here, and he wasn’t still living the nightmare her two-week absence had been—was channeled into the way his tongue delved between her lips, tasting her.
His loosened grip allowed her to free her arms. After getting her own gloves off—the soft thump of them hitting the mat lost to his ears—she wound her fingers in the back of his hair and tugged him even closer.
Then she broke away, grinning slyly, though her eyes looked a little dazed. She raised her hands, gesturing him to continue their sparring.
A rumble sounded in his chest as he launched himself at her, his blood thundering in his ears.“Picture whoever it is that attacks you in your dreams, Emma. Conquer them.”
She faltered, and he barely had enough time to draw back the force of his blow so it didn’t knock her unconscious. At the last second, she leapt right, and his fist hit her shoulder. She didn’t even seem to notice.
“What? No, I can’t.”
He shook out his arms, expelling the excess force he’d fought to contain.“Just try it, it might help.”
“I could hurt you,” she protested, standing frozen and unprotected. But the vulnerability in her eyes kept him from taking that advantage.
“You won’t hurt me.”
She bit her bottom lip, seeming to consider it. Then she nodded.
He smiled, as though this were a small victory toward her being able to confide in him.
She backed up, rolling her shoulders then her neck. He tried to avoid staring at her impressive form. In every way, she was a formidable opponent and—he had no doubt—his equal. A woman more than worthy to fight by his side in this war, and if they survived, any wars that threatened humankind thereafter.
When she looked at him again, her expression hardened, and her eyes pulsed with emerald light. She stepped into a ready stance.
Then she lunged.
Faster than he had ever seen her move before, she blurred, and then in a burst of blue, yellow, orange, and red—
She ignited.
Dancing, curling flames covered her body. He shot back in surprise, but the sight of her distracted him enough that the first hit came to his jaw. Cold, then searing hot, exploded in his face as she landed blow after blow. Then his chest and anywhere else she could reach was filled with pain. Everywhere she touched, she burned.
He roared as agony pierced him, dropping him to his knees.
The smell of charred flesh and burnt hair was everywhere, and his vision blurred. But mercifully, she no longer touched him.
“Ohmygod! Blaze!” Her voice was choked and distant. She fell to her knees in front of him, her ivory skin unblemished by the fire that had covered her. Though his attention stuttered on the fact that he could see her knees when she had been wearing full-length workout pants.
He held up a hand, feeling himself sway. His body fell forward, onto his other fist, and he gritted his teeth against the jarring pain.
“Did you know you could do that?”
He heard her sob.“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His words were slow. Pained.
She didn’t answer.
As his body worked to heal his wounds, he dragged his eyes up her crouched form. Which held a few burned scraps of clothing that did little to cover her. His gaze made her look down, and her face turned red instantly.
She jumped to her feet with a squeaked “I’m so sorry,” then turned and ran from the room.
If his entire body hadn’t been engulfed in enough pain to make his vision swim, he’d have chased after her. Instead, all he could do was wait until his accelerated healing eased the burning from his wounds.
He hung his head, his breathing shallow. It was clear that whatever Emma was dealing with in her dreams haunted her during the day too. He had no doubt she had faced many horrors in Sheol. But without her willingness to share, he wasn’t sure how to help her get over it.
A low whistle sounded from the doorway. “Playing with matches again, brother?” Axel called, amusement thick in his tone.
Blaze wanted to pummel his brother for cracking a joke when he no doubt looked like he’d run through a house fire.
“Ah, no, I get it!” His brother snapped his fingers. “You wanted to look like a Blaze, so you set yourself ablaze.” Axel cackled with laughter.
“Dear god, why do you act like you’re still sixteen?” Blaze muttered.
“It’s quite common to go through another adolescent-type phase every few centuries. Without the puberty, thankfully.”
Blaze groaned. “Your presence is more painful than these burns.” But he could feel the sting receding enough that he sat back onto his heels, ignoring the way his head throbbed.
Axel smirked.“I could give you some more to even it out.”
“I’ll pass.”
Axel strode toward him, stopping to stare at the smoking crater of blackened training mat where Emma had attacked him.
“Lover’s quarrel?”Axel asked wryly, though his brows knitted together in a small show of concern. When Blaze didn’t answer, he continued.“I’m actually here to tell you the happy news first.” He paused, meeting Blaze’s gaze. His sky-blue eyes seemed duller somehow, though Blaze was sure it was just the light.“Emerelda and I are engaged. We’ll be wed in two weeks’ time.”
Blaze gave a humorless laugh. “And if we’re at war in two weeks?”
Axel shrugged. “She’s planning the engagement party for Friday. No doubt her whole family will try to find some way to make it over for the wedding.”
Blaze shook his head and sighed. This certainly wasn’t the time to be thinking about weddings. They were about to go to war with the Shediem, on top of the fact that they still needed to secure as many numbers for their side as possible. There was no doubt that the Shediem were taking Spellcasters and any other supernatural beings by force.
“Now just isn’t a good time to—”
“When is a good time?” Axel snapped. He sighed, the brimming anger in his eyes fading. “Look, you know Emerelda and I have always had wrong timing and whatnot. I betrayed her once, brother. I won’t do it again. I love her.”
With the deep, oozing wounds on his body mostly healed, Blaze stood, keeping eye contact with his brother. He deserved happiness after being forced to break courtship of Emerelda fifty or so years ago, because their father didn’t approve.
Blaze nodded. He clasped his brother’s hand, shaking it with a smile.“I wish you both all the best.”
“Thank you, brother,” Axel said. With a dip of his head he turned. Stalking from the room with a jaunt in his step, he called back over his shoulder, “I’d hide that mat and that particularly unfortunate side effect of your girl’s anger from Uncle if I were you.”
Looking back to the blackened spot on the mat and then down at his obliterated shirt, Blaze sighed.
5
Adrianna
A
message materialized on the mattress directly in front of her at noon. It was coal black with words inlaid with gold script, requesting her presence for dinner.
Pushing aside the letter she had been writing to her siblings— letters she wrote but never sent, considering her family no longer remembered who she was—she picked up the thick card. She imagined the invite was extended to Tlahaz too, though it was addressed only to her.
/> The king had perfect, elegant penmanship. She stared down at the note for several minutes, her heart beating wildly. Athena—who had been snoring a low, rumbly sound, curled up beside her—lifted her violet, scaly head, no doubt sensing Adrianna’s rising panic. Adrianna patted her wyvern’s head just above the small, studded spikes dotting the crown of her skull. Her fearsome familiar snorted in contentment before continuing her snooze.
Adrianna had met the king already, but he’d never insisted on her presence at all since being brought to Sheol. She knew why she was here, and so did the king. Perhaps he wanted to discuss the little progress she’d made so far. Every morning she was marched down to Levaroth’s cell, and every morning she tried accessing his memories. Levaroth kept a solid wall in place attempting to thwart her attempts, but today, she’d had a small success.
She’d gotten inside his mind. Seen his intimate memories of Emma, both as Rowek and as a suave businessman. She’d seen other things too, horrible things. Like murder. So much murder. He enjoyed killing. It sustained him; he needed it like humans needed food and water.
Tlahaz fed off emotions, not just fear, but it was blood that he preferred. He said the emotions were more potent in the bloodstream. It was why he’d fed from her.
A shiver coursed through her at the memory of how it had caused both pain and pleasure. Unwilling to stop, it had nearly driven him mad. Now, even when he looked worn down or just plain hungry, she offered him a little bit of her blood, and always he refused.
She couldn’t decide if the twisting in her gut when he refused was due to relief or disappointment. They had a mutual attraction that was undeniable, but it ran a little deeper. He didn’t want to hurt her, and despite the constant tricks and pranks she pulled on him, she had to admit she liked having him around.
As if her thoughts had summoned him, Tlahaz opened the door and stormed inside, looking agitated.
“Bad day at the office, dear?” she asked, smiling sweetly.
Tlahaz grunted, shucking off his armor with a clang. Black liquid was splashed across his ruggedly handsome face and arms. Training, he always said. She pursed her lips as her gaze slid from his face to his wings.
With a gasp, she leapt off the bed, ignoring Athena’s rumble of disapproval. “Your wing!” Adrianna rushed toward Tlahaz, magic rising to her palms, filling them with gentle light. One of his wings was bent at an odd angle, dragging on the floor, many of the lustrous feathers ripped off and exposing the same leathery grey flesh as the rest of his lethal, muscular body.
With a low growl he held up a hand, and she stopped with a huff. His golden eyes flashed dangerously.
Folding her arms over her chest, she cocked a hip to the side. “I know you can heal it on your own, but it looks damn painful.”
“I don’t care,” he said, his words muffled around his full, distended canines.
So that was why he didn’t want her getting close.
“What happened?” Adrianna asked.
“Training,” he answered.
She rolled her eyes.“Who could have possibly broken your wing like that? Is anyone that stupid?”
His answering grunt almost sounded like a laugh. “Apparently.”
He started to move past her and toward the bathroom, but she stepped in front of him, blocking him.
“Move, Witch.”
She smirked. “Please tell me your next words are ‘Get out the way.’”
He lifted a single brow.“You say the oddest things sometimes. But yes, get out of my way, or I’ll move you myself.”
She didn’t budge.“You need blood. When was the last time you fed?”
“I don’t need blood, Witch. Your damn scent makes me hungry.”
His words sent a little thrill through her—part fear, and part excitement. She loved that she had an effect on him, but she tried not to push him. She’d seen enough teenage vampire flicks to know that when a hot guy craved your blood, it was best not to tempt him.
“You say the sweetest things, darling. Now about your wing.” Her tone was flat.“Who broke it?”
Tlahaz grumbled something too low for her to hear before scrubbing a hand down his face and huffing a breath.“I’ve been training the young hybrids—the half-Giborim, half-Shediem children that Prince Asmodeus sends to the king for testing. They have powers much like your friend, Emma.”
She tried not to bristle at the way he said friend but stayed silent for him to continue. She’d heard about the newest little army the king was concocting. It was vile and sadistic, and most Spellcasters were used to speed their growth. The resulting child had powers beyond the average Shediem, making them valuable weapons.
“One of the little hell-spawns can move things with its mind, and thought it’d be a good idea to try to remove my wing.”
Her eyes widened as she clapped a hand to her mouth, stifling her gasp.“Holy crap. But at least the child was unsuccessful.”
Tlahaz glowered.“No, it broke in four different places before it was ripped off. I had to hold it in place until it could reattach before the breaks healed. It looked much worse than this.” Already, it was straightening.
She marveled at his accelerated healing. It would be a nice thing to have in the coming war, but she’d just have to settle for her magic.
Tlahaz, no longer wanting to chat, picked up Adrianna under her arms and lifted her like a bag of feathers. She sighed as he set her beside the doorway and stalked into the bathroom.
“Oh by the way, your king sent an invite for dinner tonight,” she called in after him, peeking to catch a glimpse of him stripping out of the tight-fitting pants he wore, to no avail.
“You’ve got to be…” The last of his sentence was drowned out by the water turning on. Part of her wanted to invade his privacy, just to annoy him. Instead, she turned, a sinking sensation in her gut causing her to climb back to bed and burrow under the covers.
The heat of her familiar along with her soft, vibrating breaths gave her comfort and strength to face the evening ahead.
Tlahaz walked beside her in the echoing halls with only the sound of their steps for her to focus on. That, and imagining a million ways the night could end in her death, or worse.
The gauzy pink chiffon dress that had been delivered to their door an hour before they were meant to leave swayed about her ankles. Delicate layers fluttered behind her, giving the illusion of a princess trapped in the castle with a fire-breathing dragon preventing her escape. Except it was an all-powerful king of darkness as well as a surly Shediem general that prevented her from leaving her elaborate dungeon of sorts. And in her case, it wasn’t a dragon at all, but a wyvern who guarded her. The fire-breathing thing was still not present, but as she and Athena strengthened their bond,Adrianna could feel the beast’s strength growing.
Perhaps soon she’d be breathing flames.
When they reached the golden double doors with thick black vines creeping over them,Tlahaz straightened, his cool, detached demeanor slipping into place like a mask. Adrianna’s stomach clenched, feeling like the doors would open and reveal a lion’s den.
Inside these doors, Tlahaz would not protect her, if he even acknowledged her.
Without warning, the doors creaked and opened seemingly of their own accord. They stepped into what Adrianna thought was a room, though she couldn’t say for sure. Vines and trees grew wildly. Underfoot were roots and soft, spongy earth that her heels sank into. Sounds of birds tweeting and a stream gurgling filled the space.
Above, a warm buttery sunlight streamed in through the canopy of trees. In the center of it all was a long wooden table. Nakosh sat at its head, a small smile playing on his full, sensual lips.
It had to be an illusion of some kind. She’d been outside the walls of the castle, where nothing grew and there was certainly no sunlight.
The coiling black shadows that danced and played over the king’s body moved away from his hands when he stood, gesturing to the two empty seats on either side of him.
Adrianna didn’t argue, instead heading for her seat as carefully as she could without screaming. At one point she was certain that something resembling a root had slithered away. There weren’t live snakes in here, were there?
Tlahaz took his seat, back ramrod straight, his expression vacant. Adrianna sat in her own, her gaze on the setting before her: glimmering, meticulously placed forks in various sizes to her right, knives to her left, and two odd-looking spoons above where a plate should be. A silly, sparkling cage.
“Welcome, welcome,” Nakosh greeted in his soft, velvety voice.“Do you like what I’ve done with the place?”
Adrianna nodded, glancing up to offer a small smile. His stunning silver eyes held her gaze for several moments.
Around them, people she hadn’t noticed before—probably because they were dressed like trees—stepped forward to fill their crystal goblets with wine the color of blood. It smelled sweet, yet earthy. The one pouring hers truly looked as though their skin was made of bark. She tried not to gawk at the realistic foliage. Or at the caterpillar slinking up the server’s trunk-like torso.
Her nose wrinkled involuntarily at the sight, drawing a soft, melodic laugh from the king, and she promptly schooled her expression.
Across the table, the tree-person looked like they might tip over at any moment from the tall, sprawling branches and vines hanging from them that swayed when they moved.
When the servers finished filling the glasses, they stepped back, materializing into the shadows again, their steps eerily soundless.
“The most powerful Spellcaster to ever live sits at my table,” the king mused softly.“I just wonder…”
Adrianna felt a lump rising in her throat, but she fought the urge to swallow it down, knowing he’d hear it.
Tlahaz shifted in his seat, forcing both their gazes to him. “Master, we appreciate your hospitality, but may I enquire as to the—”
“You want to know why I’ve brought you here,” Nakosh finished briskly, bringing his goblet to his lips and swallowing a healthy mouthful of the wine.
The Throne of Broken Bones (Weapon of Fire and Ash Book 3) Page 3
