I leaned across the table, ignoring Finn’s glower. “It was in a dream.”
Ryder’s golden eyes narrowed thoughtfully. A few beats later, his fingers spread wide. He and Finn shared a look.
“Yeah, seems that much is true,” Finn muttered.
“Fascinating. I wonder if the other stories of the Gods are true, too, then.” Ryder responded, his head tilted side to side, chin raised, and he folded his arms in front of him. “Interesting. Anyway, why do you suspect the Order of killing a group of girls?”
“Anisra.” Finn said.
Ryder went still. “Come again?”
“Anisra. They used it.”
The pulse in Ryder’s neck throbbed. Wisps of smoky black uncurled from under his hands, and I tipped back on my stool when it spread across the table, reaching for me. The timbre of his voice deepened, turning soft as velvet, when he finally addressed Finn. “That’s been locked away for centuries.”
“I know. And I know you know better than anyone.” Finn raised a hand helplessly. He glanced between us. “That’s why I know it must be them.”
Ryder cursed viciously and his head dropped; the searing intensity of his focus fell with it. My chest swelled as I began pulling in air once more. I hadn’t realized I’d stopped breathing in the first place. Danger wafted from this man, this stranger, in waves. Like a Venus Fly Trap, he drew prey in with beauty and promises, but one snap and it was done for.
“I have a lot to consider,” Ryder said. The smoke dissipated. The level of control he exerted was incredible. I’d watched Finn fly off the handle at craziest turn of emotion on more than one occasion. He wore emotions like clothing. But this guy, this guy was all about internalizing. I got the feeling we’d stunned him; I didn’t think he’d meant to allow the smoke to slip.
“You’re asking me to go against the Order. And we don’t have a temple behind us.” It felt like I was missing a very important conversation. Finn had mentioned it before, the Order and the temples being at odds, but Ryder’s eerie comment made it seem like it was much more than that.
“There are many who don’t appreciate the way the Order has treated them these past two centuries,” Ryder continued. “But there’s a difference between passive irritation and a willingness to actually go up against the establishment. Also, throw in a God and you’ve got yourself a very messy situation. If the Order does want her dead, there are fey who will make it happen, even at the cost of their magic. I can’t trust just anyone.”
I tugged the sleeves of my shirt over my knuckles. My body shrank in on itself as the weight grew even heavier. It seemed no matter where I turned, nothing got better. Nothing got easier. I risked a glance at Finn who appeared as defeated as me. His head hung on his shoulders.
“Fortunately, you picked a good place to find me. There are many here trying to hide from something.” Ryder shifted his weight on the stool. His tone lightened. “Though some might recognize you, Zara, it’s unlikely they’ll report you. As far as nearly everyone outside of this table is concerned, you’re a swimmer on hiatus. A teenager running from responsibility. Many here have much bigger problems than that.” He flicked at hand at a woman with green hair talking rapidly on a cell phone. Two men wearing suits and scowls flanked her. A tattoo of an owl covered her entire arm, and the longer I watched the redder it glowed.
“She has secrets you don’t want to know, for example. Like me.” He smirked, all intensity from earlier having apparently faded—for now. Ryder pointed a finger at Finn. “I’ll have an answer for you in the morning.”
“Good,” Finn said and stood. His back arched and he stretched. “We’ll head back to the hotel.” He rattled off the name of the establishment and our room number. “I’ll plan on seeing you in the lobby first thing. Neither of us have phones.”
“Fair enough.” Ryder braced a hand on the table, then hesitated. “What’s wrong?”
“I—” I didn’t want to head back. Not yet. It was dark out and I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep, even with Finn in the same room. I closed my eyes, shivering when Kaz’s glassy gaze appeared against the reddish skin, and reopened them. I picked at my cuticles, not sure how to say what I needed to say without coming across like a scared little girl.
“I forgot, we were talking earlier, weren’t we?” Ryder blustered. “And then you asked me about myself and, naturally, I monopolized your time talking about myself. Now you absolutely must stay and tell me all about you.” My breathing hitched at the kindness and understanding I found in his face. Ryder sank back into his stool and held up another finger. Finn looked between us, jaw slack, as a young man dropped off another shot of the liquid lightning.
“You want to stay?” he asked.
“Would that be alright?” I smiled up at him. Please don’t make me go back, I silently pleaded. Please don’t make me.
“I don’t know. It seems dangerous.”
“Come now.” Ryder interjected smoothly. “One more drink can’t hurt. And I’ll walk her back myself. I have a vested interest in her safety now, don’t I?”
Oh, he was good.
Finn’s tongue traced his lip ring in thought. Finally, he said, “One drink. Then you come straight back. No detours. No magic. Straight back. And Ryder leaves you at the door.”
“Aye aye, captain.” Ryder said, saluting the kelpie with a snappy gesture. Finn sighed, and I could tell he immediately regretted his decision. “Your charge is safe with me, sir, guardian, sir. I’ll handcuff her to my own arm if I must.”
“Nobody is handcuffing anybody,” I said quickly. But I couldn’t hold back a small smile at his gusto. “But I promise to stick to his side like glue.”
“Are we talking Elmer’s or Gorilla, here?” Ryder asked, propping his chin on one hand. “Because there’s a vast difference in quality. And stickiness.”
“I can tell you’ll get along swimmingly,” Finn cut in. “I’ll leave you to it.” He turned to go, but Ryder’s hand snaked out and grabbed his arm, holding him back.
“Try to relax, Finn. Take some of the edge off, if you know what I mean.”
Finn went pale and he tugged away from Ryder without comment.
“What was that about?” I asked, losing the kelpie in the crush of bodies.
“Don’t worry about it.” Ryder dismissed my question with a wave. “I’d much rather talk about you.”
“What about me?”
He leaned in, hand coming up to cup my cheek as his face tipped toward mine. I did nothing to stop him as my heart tripped, uncaring of the sudden transition to intimacy. “Those eyes of yours are very intriguing, glowstick.” He smoothed the crease that formed between my brows and his voice softened. “They make me want to know everything about you.”
I leaned into his hand, playing along with his flirtation, then said, “Now that Finn is gone, what do you really think about having this problem dumped in your lap?”
His face twisted in an impossible expression. “Stranger things can happen. Have happened. The universe has a strange way of working, I’ve discovered. If you’re here now it means something incredible is about to go down. I, frankly, find myself intrigued.”
I shuddered, pulling away from his grasp. Yep, he’d gone a step too far. Too much. Too many feels. I didn’t really know who he was, no matter who he was friends with, or how charming he could be. I needed to diffuse this before it grew into something that I really couldn’t handle.
“Are you using your influence on me?” I teased, half-joking, half-serious.
“Nope. Trust me, you’d know if I were trying to influence you.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Then again, I’m not sure if I could even influence a God. I’ve never tried.” He smirked as something occurred to him. “Maybe something to test out later if you’re game…”
I couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t any laugh either, it was a full-bodied, deep from the belly laugh. The kind of laugh that sweeps you away as you lose yourself in the moment. He was too m
uch. This whole night was too much.
When I finally looked at him again, I saw the grin stretched across my whole face reflected in his. I stopped him before he could say something else that would send me through a loop of lust, hope, and confusion. I snatched up my shot.
“Do shots technically qualify as drinks?”
Ryder’s pupil’s dilated. “Depends on how you look at it.”
19
Zara
The chill of the night wrapped around me, nipping at my exposed skin, sneaking through the gaps in my clothing. Rather than wrapping my arms closer to my core, I welcomed the sensation, throwing my arms wide and spinning in a circle in the parking lot outside the club, unaware and uncaring of the wide-eyed glances cast my way. I drew in a deep gulp of air, marveling at the refreshing chill on my tongue, so completely opposite the heat and sweat inside the club.
Ryder’s laugh boomed, loud and deep, at my unwarranted enthusiasm. The flat of his palm smacked the thigh of his jeans as he bent in two, equally uncaring of the few people around us. It probably looked like we were a pair of drunken fools.
We kind of were.
“You truly are something special,” he hooted and reached out to catch one of my arms and pull me close. He was blazing hot, a mini-inferno right here on this brisk summer night. I welcomed it and pressed closer to his hard body, snuggling tight into his chest. He tensed in surprise, but after a moment his muscles relaxed, his arms tightening around my shoulders.
“What was the drink you gave me?” My words came out muffled and slurred because my face was smashed against his shirt, but Ryder had no trouble understanding.
“It’s something we fey call ‘Eliriah.’ It means ‘light.’ It’s basically the essence of the elements boiled down into liquid form. Humans can drink it, but since they’re so far removed from the natural state of the elements, it only tastes like a sweet, tangy beverage.
“For fey, like me and Finn, we have a purer elemental connection. It’s like taking a shot of moonshine. It opens us up to the elements, too, making magic more easily accessible. Witches swear by it and will often drink it during rituals to open themselves up to the spiritual world when trying some particularly difficult task or spell.
“But you, you’re a God.” He pushed me away a little so he could look down on me. “You’re the purest of us all. For you, there’s no alcoholic comparison. You aren’t drunk, you’re something past that, and someday I want to know what you’re capable of in this state. I’m sure it will be a wonder to see.”
Awe trickled into his tone, and I swallowed hard, trying to imagine that kind of power. What exactly could I accomplish? Heck. What could I do right now? Suddenly, I had to know, I had to explore what I was, what I could be. I pulled away from Ryder and slipped inside my own mind, the links of my magic pulling taut like guitar strings. I played with the strands, the beat resonating deep inside me.
But it was something more. Was it only me? What was that shaking? Firm hands gripped my arms and shook them, but I couldn’t figure out why. I brushed away the annoyance and looked around. No, the feeling wasn’t something reverberating inside me. The ground was literally shaking. People around us were screaming, running from the club as the world swayed. Ryder’s grip returned to my arms, hard and bruising. He was saying something to me, but I pushed him away again and knelt, pressing my hand to the rough asphalt in awe.
Using Iridescence, the world glowed silver and blue—long strands of life connected my body, my energy, to my element. From the leaves in the trees to the gasoline in the tanks of the few cars left in the lot to the man standing in front of me, I was part of it all. I wondered if this is how the trio of sisters in the Underworld felt as they carefully snipped the life from people, reeling their souls in for Judgment Day.
But that wasn’t all. A river of blue flowed under my feet. A stream of water rushing beneath the city. It bubbled and frothed wildly, demanding my attention.
I wanted to touch it.
I had to touch it.
In its clamor for me, the water started reversing and rising, flowing from the gaping mouths of the gutters, spilling toward my outstretched arm.
Before it could reach me, something crouched in front of me.
No.
Someone.
A single, thin strand of bluish-silver tied me to it.
Him. Yes. Him.
His shadowy arm snaked out, fingers speared through my hair, and my mouth dropped open in what I think was protest. Before any sound could come out, a warm mouth fused with mine, soft lips firm against my own. My hands flew up, ready to push away the intrusion, but instead, they curled into the softness of fabric, pulling him closer. Silver sparked in my vision, silver that had nothing to do with my sight and everything to do with the shivers of bliss rolling through me. A low moan slipped out of my throat. A deep rumble reverberated in his chest, and I tipped my head back, dropping my internal walls, welcoming the invasion. He took advantage, tugging on my hair, pulling my head back our lips fused more tightly, tongues clashing in a sensual dance.
All thought of my connection to the world vanished as I drank him in, my body pressing against his as the ground stopped rocking. I was shaking, trembling, as his arms pulled me impossibly closer. I tasted wintermint and threaded my fingers through the short, fine hair at the back of his neck, whimpering softly as he sucked lightly on my tongue. It felt like he was pulling something from me, filling the void with a dark and demented pleasure.
I couldn’t get enough.
Emotion crested high, but before it spilled over in a wave of ecstasy, he shoved me away. I tumbled to the road, the asphalt digging into my skin. The quaking in my body stopped. The sudden stillness foreign and strange.
I stared into Ryder’s swirling amber and red eyes, the glow of his white irises, the look of shock that pulled his features tight. A few moments passed like that, us staring at one another before his face crumpled.
“Fuck!” He screamed, his fingers digging grooves in his hair. His face twisted in agony, bowing toward the street. “Fuck,” he repeated, softer this time.
Drained and sober, I shifted to take some of the pressure off the cuts in my palms, wary again of the stranger in front of me, of the hints of danger I’d picked up on earlier. I scrubbed at my face, uncaring of the blood and grime. The movement caught Ryder’s attention, and his head flew up again, dark eyes boring into mine.
Horrified.
Hopeful.
“Ryder,” I started to say, the words soothing but wary, like someone trying to calm a rabid animal approaching with its hackles raised. The words barely passed my lips, and suddenly he was there, smashing me against the softness of his t-shirt and the hardness of his chest.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured into my hair, the heat of his breath fanning stray strands. “I’m so bloody sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. You were going to break the water main. Everything was shaking. I thought someone was going to get hurt. I was screaming at you, shaking you, but you weren’t responding. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Was that what I was doing?
Was that the river of blue?
I suddenly felt afraid of myself, my utter lack of awareness. The feeling of ecstasy was swamped by guilt. What if someone had gotten hurt? I didn’t want that. I never wanted that.
“Well, I’d say your way of getting my attention was effective.” My raspy voice cracked, ruining my attempt at lightheartedness. Gathering myself, I pushed past it and looked up through my lashes. “That was a pretty incredible kiss.”
He shook his head and my expression faltered. “You don’t understand. I could have hurt you.” I pulled away. “I couldn’t think of any other way to get through to you. I used my abilities to distract you, but I lost control. That shouldn’t have happened.”
“How exactly would you have hurt me?” I asked, pushing out of his lap, the rough asphalt of the parking lot grounding me once again.
“You need to understand h
ow my abilities work,” he began. “Incubi and succubi get energy from sex or at least energy derived from sex or sexual acts, like dancing. It’s why I have the club. The incredible volume of raw, human energy takes away most of my hunger.” He reached out to touch me, but stopped when I shook my head. His hand dropped.
“That sexual energy is more potent when it’s actual, physical contact. It helps feed our deeper, greater desire: the desire to steal souls. Stealing a soul brings on an ultimate high for us, but leaves our victims like zombies.” Ryder winced. “Now, there are ways to be physical without fully taking a soul. But even a little contact, even controlled, can chip away at that person’s soul. It doesn’t matter if they’re human or fey. Everyone is affected. We can feed a little bit from someone, sure, but it leaves a mark. And if we aren’t careful, we can take it all.”
The night air didn’t feel crisp and welcoming anymore. Out here, with him, with this conversation, everything felt more sinister. The steady throbbing coming from the club stopped as the DJ wrapped up his last song. The stillness increased my edginess.
“As if that weren’t enough, the people whose souls we steal are damned to hell, cursed to spend their eternal lives among monsters. We are some of the few fey that are actually, technically demonic. We don’t like to use that term, but it’s true. That’s why there’s so much judgment about our kind.”
“What kind of mark?”
“Your soul makes you who you are. When we take part of it, we are taking part of what makes you, you. In most cases, taking a little can take away some of your kindness, some of your light. We make good people bad, bad people worse.”
I thought for a minute, taking inventory of my body. I didn’t feel any darker. Maybe as a God, it took a little longer to kick in for me to feel different.
Walk on Water Page 15
