by A. Vers
A wash of understanding rolls through me. But can a Hallow really be honorable? Especially one who seemingly kills without prejudice?
Nix’s long fingers brush something from the table in front of him, the motion angry and rushed. “I think knowing you fought with me… It was like telling him I think he is too weak to be at my side. To stand as a brother in arms.”
“Is he?”
Nix’s head raises, long ruby braid swaying before his gaze locks in mine. “No.”
The relief I feel has everything to do with making my job easier and nothing to do with worrying about a cambion prince.
Right?
“Then let him fight,” I say into the silence. His lips part to argue and I barrel on. “He can battle without being right next to you. Let him do what he can. Whatever that is.”
One corner of his mouth tremors. “Whatever that is?”
My face heats. “You know what I mean.”
He dips his head in mild acquiescence. “Even without amour, cambions are raised from birth to fight. Something about keeping them in peak physical condition… He is strong and very skilled, even among his kin.”
An unwelcome memory of Chol shirtless flashes through my mind. I exhale, but its tremulous. And if Nix notices, he never remarks.
“You were right earlier,” he says after a time. “Chol is being hunted. He has been for years. Sometimes it feels like we have been on the run so long…that it’s all we know. It’s a reflex now to shut out strangers. To only trust each other.”
“What about Erem? Or Lady Marlec? You don’t trust them?”
Though there is no noticeable change, he is tenser than before. “I trust Erem as a Hallow. And Lady Marlec is Chol’s mother. His Queen. But no one knew we were at the embassy but the four of us. And Chol is…” he peers at me, trailing off.
“Shadow bound?” I ask, gently.
He stills. “So you can see that too?”
I nod.
His exhale is tremulous, more relief than fear, maybe? “He draws on my Hallow magick to hide the light of his power. The closer we are, the better it works.
My lips part. “Which means nothing should be able to trace him by magick.”
Another dip of his head. “And yet, we were attacked the first night at the embassy. And the consulate was attacked too. That was our only hope outside the Void for shelter. For long term shelter,” he clarifies. “Attacked before we could speak to them. Before we got a chance to present our case.” He picks up his ticket and crumbles it in one armored fist. “I don’t know what we are walking into by going topside. But now we have no choice.”
I try not to let his words sway me. To not feel sympathy for the man speaking or the Prince he is fighting so hard to protect. It works about as long as my resistance to Chol’s charms lasted.
“I can help you protect him, Nix,” I say again. “For as long as you need.”
He starts to shake his head. “That’s a tremendous strain on you. And a risk you are not obligated to—”
“As guests of Midnight, you are under my protection. Even if we aren’t technically at the embassy. Therefore, it makes it my sworn duty to do everything in my power to keep you both safe.” He stares. “And since you’re a Hallow, I feel like it’s more along the lines that I have help keeping Chol safe.”
Nix continues to regard me in silence. I hold his gaze, letting him see and hear the truth behind my words. He turns a little on the bench. One hand extends towards me over the table. I hesitate before letting him take my hand in his.
His skin is hot, almost burning but velvet covered roughness under the half gloves.
“Thank you, Sayah. For helping us,” he says.
My eyes roam over him. From the tousled fringe of his hair, to the glowing carnelian eyes peeking out of the fall. Even his skin seems duskier. Richer in the warm light. Every hollow and dip in his arms under the crimson markings are strong, capable. His weapons are well-maintained. Clean and sharp.
It’s not just the embodiment of a warrior. It’s the precise care he gives to everything he does. The calculated mind of someone raised to defend. To protect.
To kill.
Because last night and this morning were just glimpses of the assassin’s deadly skill. Whatever it was that attacked… I have a strange theory it won’t survive Nix’s wrath a second time. Nor will anything else in the vicinity.
Maybe even Chol.
So I lick my suddenly dry lips, and squeeze his hand. “Of course, Nix. It’s my honor.”
Chapter 11
The carriage rolls to a stop and I jar awake. Nix peers at me from across the table, dark circles rimming his bright eyes.
Does he ever sleep?
“Are we at Emerald City?” I ask with a small yawn.
He shakes his head. “Coach fuel up. It’s a full depot, so you can stretch your legs.”
Oh.
I reach across the table and gently shake Chol. “Prince Charming, you got to wake up,” I tease. “Because I refuse to kiss you.”
He grumbles and tries to roll over on the narrow space. His long limbs barely fit, and I refuse to acknowledge how cute it is.
Nix coughs and pulls his short sword—loudly—from the scabbard with a musical ring. Chol jolts upright.
He gazes around in sleep-tousled confusion. “Huh?”
The Hallow next to him turns away and stows his blade, but not before his lips curve upward. I glare at him.
“We stopped for a minute. Do you want to walk around?” Nix asks, ignoring the scorching heat of my gaze.
Chol runs a hand through his bright hair and yawns. “Yeah. Sure.”
Nix climbs to his feet and opens the coach door with a press of his palm. We slip out onto the platform.
The awning overhead is scrolled in older weavings, but the lights give off a surprisingly welcome glow for a stop in the middle of the Void.
Chol staggers towards the dimly lit Depot building and the small counter with its bright display of drinks and snacks easily visible. Nix steps to the edge of the stone dais, gazing out into the dark. Back the way we came.
I follow him. “Anything?”
He shakes his head. “The coaches aren’t very fast, but they are hard to track. I don’t expect a tail this soon.”
“You didn’t expect one at the Embassy, either,” I point out.
He growls softly, but it doesn’t hold as much anger as I expect.
Willing to test the change a bit more, I nudge him playfully. The sound fades into abrupt silence. Though he doesn’t move away, he looks at me without speaking for so long, I cough a bit to hide my blush and turn away.
“Come on, let’s grab something to eat.”
We walk inside to find Chol, half asleep, nursing a hot cup of what smells like coffee. Personally, I’ve never liked the stuff, but with only a few hours of sleep…
I snag a cup too.
A slim girl behind the counter flips through a human magazine while chewing gum and blowing bubbles. She barely looks up as we walk around.
Or she doesn’t acknowledge me anyway.
But her eyes flow over Chol and Nix with interest. After about ten minutes of it, my patience snaps. I head down the short hall and slip into the bathroom for a break from the ‘Chol and Nix Show’.
The room is dim and empty as I exit the stall. Walking to the sinks, I tap the gems until lukewarm water flows out. Wiping down my face, arms, and the back of my neck, I force myself to breathe through the strange flare of anger.
It’s not some sort of idiotic jealousy. Because for it to be jealousy, it would mean I have to care about either male in a romantic sense and that would be…well, idiotic. Not to mention impossible and impractical.
And despite living in the Void, I’m nothing if not practical.
Despite sleeping in the coach, my hair only takes a few passes of my fingers before it flows back into some semblance of order. But my skin is paler than normal, so I pinch my cheeks a little to bring so
me life back to my face and then chide myself for caring about my appearance right now.
I step from the bathroom, drying my arms and neck with a clean rag.
At first glance, the depot is empty. Deserted.
My eyes land on the glass across from the hall, giving me a clear view of the rest stop in the mirrored surface.
Chol is pressed against the far wall, shirt charred and clinging to his reddened skin. But it’s the slim blade against the tan column of his throat that leaves my vision red.
With silent steps, I ease to the edge of the hall, searching for Nix.
Grunts and groans fill the glass chamber, but the fight is out of sight. Chol spies me, eyes going wide.
The girl behind the counter is the one with the blade to his skin, her lithe body poised and a terrible smile on her face. “Come on, your girlfriend has to have some sort of jewel in that coach. So where is your pass to get in?”
Chol glowers down at her.
Something sails past them, and a dark clad heap lands amidst the tables. The male climbs to his feet, orange hair blazing under the lights. He offers a slick smile to the girl, which she returns, before pulling a knife from his pocket.
He flicks it open and gestures back toward the counter I can’t see.
I don’t wait.
Pulling one of my blades, I throw it.
It sails across the distance and embeds in the male’s side. He screams and the girl turns, loosening her grip on the knife held to Chol’s neck.
The prince shoves her hard. She tumbles into the tables, jostling them, and falls to the floor. I run into the room. Nix slams his armor-plated fists into the male’s face and blood arcs. The girl tries to grab his cloak.
Setting back, my leg flies, cleaving into her cheek. Her head whips sideways and she crumbles.
I turn as Nix continues his barrage of blows. His eyes burn like living flames. Angry.
Deadly.
And the last thing I need is a repeat of this morning.
I grab Chol, pressing him toward the exit. “Nix!” His fists slam into the other male’s jaw, expression devoid of life. “Phoenix!” He jolts and his head turns. “Time to go.”
His eyes dim. I don’t take the time to silently cheer my quick thinking. Snatching my dagger from the male’s flesh, he steps in front of both fallen thieves and walks backward to the door.
The girl glowers as her friend groans with pain. But she merely scrambles to his side, placing her hands over the pouring wound.
Magick pulses in the air, filtering through the adrenaline coursing inside me. My eyes scan over our quarry, searching with more than regular vision.
Soft orange light pools under the girl’s hands. I spin, shoving Chol to the coach with one hand as my other reaches for the Hallow. “Tethetier.”
My magick loops around Nix’s waist, thinner than I would like with my weakness. I yank.
He sails past me, skidding to a halt on the old stone with a masculine grunt as Chol catches him. I throw up a shield around them as the power implodes under the girl’s pressing fingers.
I have no time to shield myself. No option to do anything but stare.
Fire races toward me, hot and burning. I close my eyes.
Heat flows over my back, cooler and almost welcome compared to the inferno that should be upon me. My elbow scrapes cool plates of armor as I’m pulled back into a large male frame.
My eyes flutter open, finding midnight fire battling back the raging magick.
“Sayah.”
I turn and look up.
Nix’s face is tight in concentration from right behind me, one gloved hand raised. Shadowed fire wreathes his fingers. “On my signal.”
I nod.
He shoves and the fire retreats in a burst of light. “Now.”
I clamor to get my feet moving, and we sprint for the already departing coach as Chol leans out the door. “Hurry!” he calls.
The big carriage rolls down the track, picking up speed. But so are the flames.
Hells.
My boots slam into the stone and I run, arms pumping. Nix is a dark blur beside me. He lunges. Chol grabs him and shoves him inside. The edge of the platform nears. It’s now or never.
I leap.
Small licks of fire flow over my ankles as warm hands grab my arms, hauling me up and inside the coach with a grunt. I land half in Nix’s arms and half across Chol’s body on the bench.
We collapse as the door seals back shut. My lungs heave, drawing in cool cookie and sunshine scented air. Bright gold light bathes the world behind us, illuminating the Void, but as the coach rattles on, the light fades in the distance. I sag in their hold, face pressed into the warmth of Chol’s shoulder, shaking slightly.
Nix’s arms shift around my waist and leg. Reminding me of where I am and who else has me.
Right.
I awkwardly move out of their arms. “What the hell happened?” I ask, pulling away from their heat to collapse back against the table.
Nix pants as he looks up at me. His hair is tousled and a single nick of blood mars one russet cheek. “Her boyfriend jumped me as soon as I reached the counter. He was some sort of elemental.”
I seethe. “Ya think?” He glowers. “The hair was a dead giveaway,” I say, trying to force a calmer tone.
Chol raises a brow, one tan hand pressed to his neck. “And the fire was too,” he says.
I push from the table and grab his hand.
He fights me, but eventually, with a sigh, he lets go.
A slim cut colors the strong expanse of his neck and part of one shoulder. It’s angry and red but not too deep. A slow trickle of blood trails down his skin like crimson paint as I examine the wound.
I grab the bottom of my tee and rip. The black fabric comes free in my hand, leaving my shirt brushing the top of my jeans.
Chol’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything as I gently hold pressure on his skin.
“You’re a walking hazard,” I tease, but under the light tone is a trace of worry I can’t hide.
Warmth colors his silver irises before they trail from my face down. “And you are quite the distraction in a deadly package.”
When his eyes lock on my cleavage, I press just hard enough to get his attention. Or maybe choke him.
He chuckles. “Even hurt, you won’t cut me any slack, will you?”
I smirk. “Hells no.”
Nix scoffs next to him. “Be grateful Sayah wasn’t the one holding a blade to your throat. You wouldn’t have a scratch…you would be missing your head.”
I peer at him. His bright irises gleam in the red light of the gem behind me. But the compliment is mild and there is no condescension in his tone. Nor is there a trace of anything else in his expression. Just the emptiness I’ve come to count on with the Hallow.
Chol’s pulse thunders under my hand, but there is a looseness to both of them that wasn’t there before. Almost a camaraderie.
Nix’s words earlier ring through my ears. ‘We’ve been running so long… sometimes it’s hard to let strangers in.’
Three battles, and three times I have protected Chol now. Standing as an equal among them. It’s high praise from the Hallow that he has let me in this far.
My lips curve, and I try not to show how much their acceptance means. Their trust. “True. But that’s what our relationship is,” I say, looking back at Chol. “You offer me pleasures I can only imagine, and I am the only one who can threaten to dagger you.”
Chapter 12
Emerald City is nothing like its name. I don’t know why I expect something closer to the fabled land in the human stories of Oz. Maybe a town with a large emerald castle, or a well laid path. There is none of that.
And I’m pretty sure Dorothy would rather eat her red heels than enter this Emerald City.
The onyx towers and glass storefronts roll into view just beyond the high walls. Some of my excitement morphs to anxiety as I get my first good look at the graffiti and boarded
up windows.
The towering structures of the city glint with old wards and dancing torches. Several strange lights whisk across the sky, weaving in and around each other like a proverbial ‘look at me’ beacon. And according to Chol, that’s what they are. Beacons for travelers in the dark.
Though I imagine only the desperate come to Emerald City.
Broken stone pillars wait across from the gleaming depot, and it’s not the only rundown thing in the area.
A pitch-black metal sign stretches across the expanse. Each letter on its front glows neon green in the dimness of the Void. Though one ‘e’ flickers off and on, Emerald City emblazons down at me.
I inhale softly and try to keep my eyes from bugging out of my skull. Fent is almost a palace of cleanliness in comparison.
Chol opens the door and I step down out of the carriage onto a cracked sidewalk. Tufts of trodden grass sprout from the grimy spaces, each blade is darker than regular grass and thick. A single lilac flower grows nearby. The urge to bend and whisk it away somewhere cleaner is a real ache, but I hitch my bag higher and walk through the arch behind the Hallow and the prince.
The city sprawls in hills and valleys before us. What I first thought were onyx towers, are massive buildings with turrets and balconies nestled in the heart of the city.
Beings move all around us. Some are humanoid in shape, glamours pulled tight to hide their true forms. Like Nix and Chol. Others walk around with flesh in shades of colors I have never seen before. Odd skeletal structures and appendages—in places they shouldn’t be—leave my head spinning.
Tentacles, claws, and scales are more common than not. And for the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel normal in comparison.
A dark grey male with a pinched, birdlike face, and beady eyes steps across my path. He wafts his arms in the thick, black fabric of his cloak. “Pretty girl, pretty girl,” he croons.
