Midnight Lies (Shifter Island Book 2)

by Raye Wagner

  He rubbed his hands together as his expression went from glaring daggers to eager, bright-eyed-grin in a heartbeat. “When?”

  I gulped. He wanted a timeline? “Excuse me?”

  “We’re making a deal. I want to know when I can expect her soul.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip. I had no idea how hard it would be to kill her.

  “Give us a week,” Rage demanded.

  The Keeper winced. “Your brother has…” He paused a moment, closing his eyes. “Seventy-two hours, thirty-nine minutes, and seventeen seconds before he’s stuck here forever. I suggest something less than that.”

  “Fine,” I growled with frustration. “We’ll give you Surlama’s soul within seventy-two hours if you let us see Honor, release us back to the mortal realm, and when we call for his soul, you let him come back. And you’ll owe me a favor worth a soul stone,” I added quickly.

  Lesson one: Ask for a lot.

  Lesson two: Obviously wording was very important.

  I waited for him to push back, but he just grinned like a lunatic.

  “Deal. I look forward to future negotiations with you, Spirit Walker.” Reaching out, he extended his hand.

  I grasped it, and a jolt of electricity zapped me, all the way up to my elbow. “Oww.”

  Rubbing my arm, I glared up at him. His smile, which I’d thought couldn’t be any bigger, stretched, and his eyes warmed with humor.

  Dude was twisted.

  “Honor is by the lake. You may have five minutes with him, and then I’m sending you back to the Magic Lands before your boy-toy”—the Keeper pointed at Rage—“bites the dust.” Then, the Keeper took a deep breath, eyeing me up and down, before finally shaking his head. “Besides, if I keep you any longer, the temptation may be too great—even for me.”

  Did I even want to know what he meant by temptation? Before I could ask, he snapped his fingers, and we … poofed to the edge of the lake.

  “This place is weird,” Rage growled, grabbing his stomach.

  A spectral lady jogged past us with a wave, and the air shifted with her passing. Her steps made little puffs of dirt fly up as her feet hit the ground.

  Huh. Interesting. She appeared so normal—like we were passing in the park and not the Realm of the Dead.

  I was about to agree with him when I spotted Honor on a dock at the edge of the lake. The sweetest of the Midnight brothers sat with his feet dangling into the water. An older man was seated next to my friend, and as the older man spoke, Honor shook his head, his chin dropping to his chest.

  “Honor!” I shouted like a maniac. Without Rage saying anything, we both took off at a full sprint toward the edge of the lake.

  Honor raised his head and turned our way, and the man next to him did as well. Rage skidded to a stop, and I nearly tripped over my feet in my haste to find out what was wrong with my mate. His eyes were wider than I’d ever seen, and his mouth hung open.

  One strangled word tumbled from his lips. “Dad?”

  My heart followed my feet to a full stop before resuming its normal pace. Holy Mother Mage…

  It never crossed my mind that…

  I turned back toward Honor and his … dad. Whoa. Now that I looked closer, the man sitting next to my friend was the spitting image of him and all the Midnight princes, albeit a little older. Maybe … twenty-eight? Rage had been a few years old when he lost his dad, so they’d never gotten to know each other.

  Was my mom here?

  I wanted to spin around and look for her, but we were on limited time. What did we have, four more minutes? Three? Then the Keeper would zap us away, and that would be it.

  Rage stumbled toward his father in shock, but my eyes were glued on Honor. Something wasn’t right. He wasn’t looking at us excitedly or anything. He looked dead—all the light and love inside my friend was gone.

  “Son?” Rage’s dad stood, mouth unhinged. “You’re alive?”

  When Rage tried to embrace his father, the two of them stumbled … and Rage walked right through his dad.

  Oh … wow.

  I had about a million questions, but … I knelt at Honor’s side, ignoring Rage and his father’s brief—and awkward—reunion.

  “Honor?” I hesitated to even try to touch him after witnessing how well that went over for Rage. “It’s me, Nai.”

  Honor looked at me, frowned, and then turned back to look at the lake. “You’re not real.”

  I drew back in surprise and then looked up at Rage’s dad for answers.

  He frowned, looking down at me. “A shocking and painful death has … repercussions.”

  Oh mage. A sob formed in my throat.

  “What do you mean? Is he okay?” Rage asked his father.

  The man gazed down at his son, who stared out over the lake.

  “I hope so.” The elder Midnight’s voice was distraught. “I’m working with him, and all we have is time… Eventually, he should be fine.”

  I hope so? Eventually? Should be?

  Oh no. No, no, no. I couldn’t have sweet Honor be a depressed shell of his former self.

  Sucking in a sharp breath, I reached out and rested my hand on Honor’s shoulder. As solid as when he’d helped me train.

  He met my gaze, and tears filled his eyes.

  “Don’t you dare get comfortable, Honor,” I said, pulling him in for a hug. Then I stood, knowing our time was short: “We’re bringing you back to the mortal world. You’ll live again, I swear it. I’m not letting you go. Not like that, you hear?”

  Honor swallowed … and then turned to look back over the lake once more.

  His dad frowned. “I’m sorry, but … who are you?”

  Rage cleared his throat. “Dad, this is Nai Crescent … my fated-mate and an alpha heir. She’s also a high mage heir with the master element of spirit. Nai, this is my dad, Valor Midnight.”

  Whoa. Hearing that out loud, from Rage no less… I straightened, trying to find a way to wear all of those titles and still be comfortable. While meeting my mate’s dead father—whose name was Valor.

  Awkward.

  His dad’s eyebrows hit his hairline, green eyes widening. “Oh.” He stared at me, his jaw moving but no sound coming out for several painful heartbeats. Then, he shook himself and extended his hand. “Nai, it’s so lovely to meet you.”

  “Same,” I replied, taking his hand. Just like with Honor, Valor’s grip was solid in mine despite his spectral appearance.

  His gaze went over my head briefly then returned to mine, and he grinned. “I think there is someone you should meet.”

  Did he know my mother? My mouth went bone dry, and it was my turn to be at a loss for words.

  But the former Midnight king wasn’t paying attention to me gaping like a codfish. Instead, he put two fingers to his lips and blew an ear-splitting loud whistle. “Mackay!”

  Uncle Mackay! I’d forgotten he was dead too! Spinning around, my excitement drained as I watched my uncle walk toward me, holding hands with a woman … who looked exactly like me. My mother? She had to be. Like me, she was tall and slender with long, silvery-white hair and covered in high mage marks. But … why was she holding hands with my uncle? Why would my uncle and my mother…?

  The second my mother saw my face, the color drained from hers, which was saying something considering she was a ghost.

  My attention jumped back to their entwined hands, and my stomach turned to stone.

  “No,” I breathed, backing up and nearly knocking into Honor.

  Uncle Mackay and my mother? I shook my head in disbelief. Either my mother and my uncle had some Realm of the Dead love affair or … or … Uncle Mackay was actually my father…

  I gasped, and my mind reeled.

  It would explain so much. Like, why my dad had no pictures with my mom, why he never spoke of her, and why he never wanted to talk about what happened. Did he, the man who’d raised me—the man I’d always considered my father—was he my dad? Did he know what had happened? Did he know I w
as the high crime?

  My mom and Uncle Mackay both started running, arms out, reaching for me. Suddenly, I didn’t care about who’d raised me or what really happened or anything. I just wanted to hug them.

  “Mom!” I took off running across the grass, tears streaming down my face as my chest heaved, threatening to explode from the emotions rocking me. “Uncle Mackay!”

  I never knew them, and yet … I did. All of my father’s stories about them centered around their love for me. So even if I didn’t know them, I loved them. We were all grinning, inches from each other. My heart was so full that I burst into laughter and leapt into the air, preparing to be wrapped in the best hug ever…

  And then I was falling.

  “No!” I screamed, reaching out as I flailed through empty space.

  The light dimmed; blackness stole my vision.

  My feet slammed to the ground, jarring my entire being. Screams and howls filled my ears. Acrid smoke singed my nostrils, and I opened my eyes, only to have them burn and fill with moisture from the heavy soot and smoke as well as my emotional pain.

  I blinked, turning in a circle, and time seemed to stand still as I took in the destruction and rubble, trying to catch my bearings.

  Through the hazy darkness and glowing embers, I spied Rage on my left, holding his ribs. We were back in the magic lands, but… Was this Dark Row?

  I glanced down and recognized the white silk of Madame Surlama’s tent. As understanding dawned, I raised my gaze and took in the heavy cloud of smoke where Dark Row had been.

  It was gone.

  All of it.

  No way.

  The Keeper had snapped us back to the magic lands, and now every single tent and stall appeared to be destroyed or burning.

  Singed shreds of Madame Surlama’s tent lay at my feet amidst broken shards of glass and pottery. Several crumbling coals glowed red, giving us enough light to make out details. I kicked over a stained chunk of a clay jar and my guts twisted. The fragment was labeled “Virg—” and on the next line: “Blo—”

  I didn’t need a Ph.D. in linguistics or even have psychic abilities to know what that was. Madame Surlama wouldn’t have just let that go. Who did this?

  The stalls of spices, meat, bread, and all the other things sold in Dark Row … gone.

  The scorched ground smoked, and all around us embers glowed through the silty darkness of night.

  A high-pitched scream cut off suddenly, and three figures raced past us. The sharp popping of bullets pierced the air.

  Holy crap!

  I crouched as Rage pulled me into himself. The smoke hung too thick for me to see very far, and my heart rate picked up double-time when the lumbering form of a large bear shifter passed us followed by two Alpha Island guards chasing after him.

  Luckily, the cloak of nightfall covered us a little—but for how long?

  “Nai!” Rage grabbed my arm. “We need to go.”

  I nodded but stood frozen as the grizzly bear turned and, chuffing the air, rose onto his hind legs, facing us.

  Holy shifter babies.

  I craned my neck up at the beast, and my breathing turned shallow.

  “Nai!”

  Rage’s voice registered but seemed far away.

  The grizzly stepped forward.

  “Shift now!”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Rage let his wolf take over, but me? My wolf seemed to think my mage form was better suited for this madness.

  As the nine-foot-tall bear stepped closer, I urged my wolf to come to the surface. We needed to go, and my wolf was faster, but she—

  The bear roared.

  Oh. Mother. Mage.

  Rage’s wolf darted between me and the other shifter, and the sight of my mate risking his life shook me from my stupor. Instinct took over, and I threw my arms and hands out, hurling any and all of my magic at the large grizzly.

  Don’t hit Rage, I told the magic.

  Sparks danced in the air, appearing like fireflies in the night, and then flames erupted on the bear’s pelt. In multiple places. All at once.

  Rage’s wolf shifted, and suddenly he was standing before me, shaking my shoulders as I stared in shock at the burning bear.

  Howls rose up in the distance, and human-Rage forced me to meet his gaze. Breathing heavily, he scooped me into his arms, hooking his arm under my knees and hauling me up to his chest. “Nai, we’ve gotta get out of here.”

  I nodded, repeatedly, and then the world blurred as he started running, the snapping of bullets following us into the thick forest behind Dark Row.

  Chapter 3

  Rage cleared the perimeter of Dark Row and darted into the surrounding forest. A dozen paces past the tree line, my mate stopped.

  “I … gotta … rest…” he gasped, releasing my legs.

  Not even a heartbeat later, he dropped me completely as he fell to his knees.

  Crap!

  I’d been so shocked that I’d let Rage carry me into the forest like a damsel in distress when he was clearly hurt.

  “Rage,” I whisper-yelled, crouching next to him. “What’s wrong?”

  Could we go more than an hour without my mate being in peril?

  Swaying, he blinked, and the glazed look in his eyes receded. His breathing came heavy and hard, and he clutched his side once again. “I think something grazed me.”

  His fingers were wet, and the coppery tang of fresh blood wafted from the wound. I peeled back two of his slicked fingers from where he held his side and immediately let them go as my stomach heaved. Shaking my head, I pressed my hand to his and told him to keep pressure there.

  Scooting over to allow the moon’s limited light to be at the best angle, I forced a swallow and then peeled his fingers back again to get a better look.

  It was a bit more than a flesh wound. A deep puncture cut right through his ribs.

  “Rage, I-I think you’ve been shot.” My voice came out ragged and hoarse, shredded with disbelief.

  Could he heal from that? Maybe … but it wouldn’t be fast enough for us to get away if the alpha king had trackers out. They’d smell his blood from a mile away.

  “Can you shift?” I asked, my eyes wide as panic thrummed through me.

  Rage rolled his eyes. “You know I can, woman. But the wound isn’t going to go away—”

  “I’m working on that.” Apparently, it was time for more blood magic experiments. Didn’t Surlama say the healing potion she’d made for Kaja had virgin blood in it? Or maybe I made that up, but my blood had certainly worked to heal Rage in the Realm of the Dead.

  I grabbed Rage’s dagger and, gritting my teeth, ran the blade across the meat of my palm for the second time tonight.

  “What the hell, Nai!”

  I stepped up close to him and braced myself. “Trust me. Pull your hand back so I can put my blood against your wound.”

  His eyes widened with understanding, and then he grimaced. “Umm, no. That’s weird.”

  “Umm, yes. I’m pretty sure that’s what healed you when you passed out right before the four horsemen came.” Like 81.2% sure. I wasn’t that good at CPR.

  He sighed in defeat and dropped his hand from the wound with a muffled grunt. “Bloody fu—”

  I pressed my hand to the wound, and Rage’s shoulders sagged.

  “Oh,” he exhaled. “That’s … a … bit … better.”

  A bit? “Like ten percent or forty percent?”

  Rage closed his eyes, and his breathing slowed.

  “Uh … hello?”

  “Like twenty percent,” he answered just as a low howl filled the air.

  Fear bubbled up in my chest.

  Rage’s eyes snapped open, shifting from green to yellow in a single blink.

  “Let’s shift.” He started to sprint into the forest.

  “Umm, you seem to be doing more than twenty percent better!” I called after him as I ran.

  Come on, girl. Time to shift.

  My wolf surged to th
e surface; my clothes fell in tatters around me.

  Yes!

  Rage and I both raced on four paws into the woods, away from Dark Row. I had no idea where we were going, so I followed his lead through the trees. Eventually, the acrid smoke dissipated, and all that was left was the smell of earthy loam, pine, and woodland animals. We started to climb, and the terrain changed. Instead of soft, spongy earth, the soil became more rocky and the trees more sparse though they climbed much higher into the air. The temperature dropped, and the air kissed my nose with an icy bite as fatigue pulled at my limbs.

  ‘Are there other shifters out here?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes. Keep mate safe.’

  Always chivalrous. My mate’s wolf was like a white knight. Not that I was a helpless princess. In fact, as we continued to run, I debated telling him that thus far, I’d had to save his life twice tonight—three times if I wanted to count the negotiations with the Keeper. But none of those had anything to do with his wolf. I’d be better off keeping those tidbits tucked away until I wanted something from human Rage.

  Guilt welled up from the depths of my wolf’s hidden corner, shaming my petty thoughts. As if I’d really keep score. I was kidding, girl. I want him happy too.

  Surprisingly, that truth resonated strongly. I did want Rage to be happy. There was still just a tiny bit of me that was pissed he’d kept his identity as my mate secret from me most of first semester and that he was a giant jerk every time I saw him. Okay, maybe more than a little bit. Yes, he’d apologized, and I was ready to move on, but it wasn’t wrong that I needed more time to build trust, was it?

  We ran for a solid two hours until my eyes burned and my head drooped.

  ‘Mate tired?’ Rage’s wolf asked. ‘Need rest?’

  Tired? ‘I’m exhausted. Rest would be … amazing.’

  It must be well after midnight. The mid-year games seemed like days ago and yet only hours had passed. Regardless, I was dead on my feet.

  How could twenty-four hours change so much? Several things made more sense now. Like why my wolf didn’t speak like a cavewoman—I wasn’t fully wolf. And why she usually avoided surging to the front when I was in danger—I was probably way more powerful as a high mage. Or I would be, once I was properly trained. All of the information and crazy reveals swirled around my head until my brain ached. The truth bombs were a lot to take in.