Windstorm (Nightwraith Book 1)

by Gaja J. Kos

  I did. It was hard to believe that a Fae couldn’t sense his own relic from a distance, but I certainly had no trouble following its alluring trail. Although the whole thing still raised more questions than it answered.

  Pushing my inquiries into the back of my mind, I shifted to the side and nudged my head in the direction of the door. “It’s in there.”

  Cian’s fingers entwined with mine. “Then let’s go.”

  The room we entered was far more narrow in depth than in width, reminding me more of a container than anything else. Especially with all the items it stored, scheduled to be auctioned in the second part of the event. Although two more walls separated us from the main chamber, where the lethal elite rested, they did little to settle my nerves.

  We had timed our break-in so that the event would have already started, ensuring that there wouldn’t be any member of the staff lurking this far back, since the antiques were already prepared to go and wouldn’t be relocated until the break. However, that also meant the room adjacent to the one we were in right now was far from empty.

  Cian lifted two fingers, telling me how many men he sensed readying the items to be rolled out in front of the crowd as soon as the current one sold. Not as bad as I feared, but even a low number like that could cause us some serious problems if we were discovered.

  Our footsteps silent against the concrete, we veered around the many boxes and casings, gradually moving towards the far end of the space. My heart pounded the entire time, amped up on the adrenaline that rushed through my veins, and, not for the first time, I couldn’t help but wonder how Lena managed to do these things on a regular basis.

  My suppressed demonic side might be strong, but I definitely wasn’t someone who felt at ease under constant threat. Especially the life-endangering kind.

  Cian, on the other hand, oozed total confidence. He was the embodiment of a true warrior, calm in the midst of a storm, and with such brilliant focus that all but stole my breath away. Even the violence radiating from him was a honed blade, created to strike with lethal precision.

  My cheeks flamed at the sight of him, the promise he had made echoing in my very soul.

  I hid away a smile, fully aware that grinning like a jackass wouldn’t get us the hallow, and pushed forward. We were nearly halfway across the room when a loud bang came from the main area, followed closely by an array of growls and screams, the air suddenly so thick with bloodlust I almost gagged. Without a second of hesitation, Cian spun around to shield my body with his, and swore.

  A cold voice boomed through the basement, muting the chaotic explosion of sounds. “Where is the hallow, Faolan?”

  And then everything went to shit.

  Chapter 18

  Cian threw himself on top of me the second the wall exploded.

  Debris flew everywhere, lethal, sharp pieces of wood, brick, and plaster. Cian took the brunt of it in those precious moments we needed to cast a protective shield, and the slight twitching of his body told me a fair amount of shit had outraced our magic.

  I coughed as dust filled my lungs, the one damned thing our barrier wasn’t created to stop, and Cian’s gaze instantly darted down to see if I was okay. I gave him a quick nod that thankfully must have looked more reassuring than it felt, because the next second he was pushing off me, muscles rippling as he readied himself to face the shitstorm brewing in the main hall.

  Both of the walls separating us from the central area had lost their middle parts in the combustion of power, so we had a clear view of the chaos that raged beyond. And it was chaos.

  Like Nenad had said, the elite was fucking lethal. And they were willing to guard their precious collectibles with their lives, even if they were destroying some of them in the process.

  I knew what the intrusion was about, but the rest of them didn’t. Holding back wasn’t an option. Not for them.

  The gathered crowd was now nothing but a mass of well-dressed bodies, bolts of magic, and waves of energy that didn’t care what they hit. I even managed to catch a glimpse of long, deadly werewolf teeth before a translucent hand smacked the brown muzzle away.

  Having absolutely zero desire to mingle with that particular crowd, I scurried behind a massive block of stucco and wood, seeking the moderate cover it offered and hoping to the gods nobody would spot me. As I crouched there, more than a little terrified, Cian kept to the slightly shielded side on my right and prowled forward, muscles flexing in lethal harmony. He plastered himself against the blown-out wall, his face all hard lines and angles as he readied himself to strike if anyone came near.

  Watching him standing right on the edge of the maddening violence that pulsed from the room—the room where the bloody Fire Fae were tangled in the whirlwind of bodies—I wanted nothing more than to get him the fuck out of there. Nobody saw us yet, and my entire being called out to me, urging me to protect him. But I knew he wasn’t going to leave without the hallow. Or allow anyone else to do so.

  So I blew out a long breath and detached myself from the fight in the other room. Cian would stand guard. And I had a job to fulfill.

  The whispers reached for me without hesitation—not merely the voice of an object speaking for anyone to hear, but a call, made out to me specifically. The connection with the earth both Cian and I shared seemed to have marked me as an amicable presence. As someone worthy of possessing the hallow.

  A shiver crawled down my spine. I never wanted that kind of power. But I would gladly hold on to it for the one it rightfully belonged to.

  On all fours, I crawled forward while the demonic magic within me stayed on alert, almost too eager to see if anybody was foolish enough to try and make a grab for the numerous valuables stored in here. I sure as fuck hoped not. The grunts, the screams of pain and fury intensified over the past seconds.

  Although I didn’t know how that was even possible, the posh guests had cranked their lethalness up a notch. Perhaps two.

  “Téigh transa ort féin,” a voice shouted.

  I peered over the edge of the crate in time to see a blur of a man throw himself at no other than the High Lord of the Court of Fire himself. They got lost in the sea of all the supernaturals that had given in to the drive of violence and bloodlust the Fae had brought with them, and when my gaze flickered to the side, alarms rang inside me.

  Cian wasn’t by the wall any longer.

  I scanned the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of his purple hair, but the main area was a mess of bodies, blood, and magic, making it impossible to make anything out. Shit.

  It took every inch of my will, but, somehow, I managed to crawl farther. Cian could handle himself. He had to.

  And I had a bloody hallow to steal.

  I could hear it clearly now, the alluring song of pure power, the words of millennia upon millennia of history that had gathered within the core of the Stone. My eyes watered at its beauty, making me forget about everything but its unique otherness.

  Until a body crashed into the wall beside me, that was.

  I threw myself on the ground, cursing the gods for the rutting bad timing. I half hoped the collision would knock the bastard out cold, but as luck had it, the damned Fae blinked, and hazel eyes met the gray of mine.

  Oh, fuck.

  “You—” he said, but another body crashed into his and cut off whatever charming sentence he would otherwise have sputtered.

  The familiar touch of power brushed against me the split second before I noticed the spill of purple hair and the honed arms that were now dragging the enemy Fae in the opposite direction. But I also noticed the murderous intent oozing from the other male.

  The bastard wouldn’t be satisfied by anything less than a kill.

  Magic hissed and coiled within me, wanting to protect what was ours at all cost. For a split second I wavered, torn between helping Cian and finding the hallow. And that heartbeat of indecision was enough.

  The High Lord of Fire strode into the storage area, a male that could be no other but Dalaigh prowli
ng by his side.

  Their elegant, dark clothes were tattered, rivulets of blood marring their otherwise spotless skin. I followed their gazes to the two males locked in combat, but even without the visual diverging any particular details, I could tell that Cian was hurt.

  I felt it in the weakening pulse of his power, and once I caught a glimpse of the bloody gashes cutting his back wide open, I knew there was no other way. No other choice.

  Before the two brothers had the chance to spot me, I propelled myself from behind the crates, my legs carrying me as fast as they could towards the back wall. The entire time, more and more energy bubbled inside me, the light mixing with the dark into a unanimous whole, a mass of magic that was stronger than I had ever imagined it could be.

  As I reached the crates and shelves, I dropped into a roll, then slid behind a marble statue to evade Gearoid’s whip of power. The statue exploded, the bits cutting into every unprotected part of my skin. But it didn’t matter.

  I’d done all that I wanted.

  And I was bloody determined to get the fuck out of this place.

  Finally, the joined light and shadow erupted from my core and irradiated the entire room. Potent and thoroughly pissed, the magic fell upon the Fae like acid, leaving only Cian untouched. When Faolan pushed away from him, fighting off my assault—as were the other two bastards—I made a run for it.

  Though his wounds were practically dripping blood with every step he took, Cian met me halfway, and I immediately drew him into my arms.

  “Trust me,” I whispered hurriedly. “Don’t fight it.”

  And let our particles dissolve into thin air.

  Chapter 19

  Particle form wasn’t something I could take at liberty—one of the few demonic abilities I actually missed. But, being my mother’s daughter, I was inherently linked to my place of power.

  Not only was it the place of refuge, the place to heal, to replenish, to grow—the second womb every child of demonic descent had had—but it remained our companion for the length of our near-immortal lives.

  The unique connection my lair and I shared allowed me to dispel my corporeal form and adhere my particles to the umbilical cord of power that still flowed between us and use them to bring me to safety. But for that, I needed to let the darker side of my magic loose.

  Although the thought made me uneasy, I was even more worried by the fact that I had never, never tried to transport another person with me. All I could do was hope Cian would come out on the other side in one piece.

  Time and space lost their meaning as our particles flowed though the stacked portals all the way to the ritual chamber—the very heart of my lair. We materialized on the pentagram that took up the width of the floor, only the demonic strength running though my veins preventing Cian from collapsing on the ground as our bodies retained their shape once more. He thrashed in my arms, causing more blood to spurt out of his wounds, but from what I could sense, there were no lingering side effects of the transition.

  I held him steady, ensconcing him in my warmth and magic alike. “We’re safe, Cian. We’re safe here.”

  Gradually, he stilled, and I risked taking a step back to see just how badly the Fire brothers had injured him—and how he was coping. Recognition flared to life in his eyes as his gaze left mine and took in the surroundings, the purple of his irises darkening to a dangerous, dangerous shade.

  “You took me into demon territory?” he snarled, but the sound was weak, diluted by the strain of his wounds.

  “My territory,” I corrected as I guided him towards the eastern wall of the ritual chamber. “No demon can enter without my consent. Nor can anybody else.”

  Some of the anger within him subsided, but his steps were still reluctant. Right. As if I would harm him now.

  But as much as the sudden reemergence of his attitude bothered me, it couldn’t overcome the immense relief of knowing he was alive. Even if a little battered.

  “I have living quarters here.” I nudged my chin in the direction of the warded gate ahead. “They aren’t much, and I haven’t used them in a decade, but we can stay here while you heal.”

  “Why not your apartment?” He grunted as we stopped within inches of the ward.

  I uncurled a vine of power, pushing aside the barrier, and sighed. “Because Faolan knows where I live.”

  “WHAT?”

  I bit my lip and motioned him to step across the threshold, but Cian wouldn’t budge. Stubborn male.

  I had really hoped to bring up the disturbing fact at a later time. Much later time. Preferably once he wasn’t bleeding all over the place any longer.

  But I knew he wouldn’t let me tend to his wounds until he got the answer, so I gave him a little shrug. “I ran him off the road after the incident with the pin.”

  “YOU WHAT?”

  “I was pissed and cut a corner, okay? He crashed his car into a tree, so I gave him my info to avoid calling the police.” I groaned as Cian arched an eyebrow. “He looked the same as he did at the auction, minus the teeth and ears. And he certainly felt human. I didn’t even catch a whiff of an accent or anything else out of place, so I didn’t think anything of it.” I scrunched my nose. “I just wanted to get the fuck away from that house…”

  With a gentle shake of his head, Cian stepped though the gate. “Too bad you didn’t hit him harder.”

  I angled my head in acknowledgment, noting the light mirth in his eyes, then fished a velvet pouch from the back pocket of my pants.

  “True.” I flung the thing at him. “But then we wouldn’t have this.”

  He caught the pouch in midair, a brilliant grin stretching across his lips as he saw just what lay inside. “Well I’ll be damned. You got it, Nightwraith.”

  “I did,” I gloated, my own lips quirking up in response. I almost had a hard time believing I’d actually snagged the Stone from under their noses myself, but I had. And it felt damn fine.

  Cian looked at my all-too pleased self with disbelief, rumbling laughter exploding from his chest not a second later. Before I knew it, before the echoes of his melodic voice died down, his mouth was on mine and my body flattened so deliciously against his. My fingers wrapped around the firm swell of his ass, but the warmth of the blood that soaked the fabric snapped me out of the spell.

  I chuckled and broke the kiss, but didn’t let go completely. “Come on, let me take a look at your wounds first. And if you’ll behave like a good little Fae, I’ll let you thank me later.”

  A violent pulse of power shot out from his core, the energy laced with the promise of just what I’d gotten myself into—and just how thoroughly he would enjoy delivering his gratitude. I swallowed heavily, then stepped out of the embrace of his arms, but only to be met by that pure, satisfied male expression that all but tore my clothes off.

  “Jackass,” I breathed and strode past him into my lair, my steps accompanied by the unnervingly erotic sound of his low laughter.

  Immensely grateful that I hadn’t cleared my lair of the basic supplies when I’d moved out, I cleaned Cian’s wounds and packed them with the dried herbs I kept stashed in the drawers. The entire space smelled of the healing aroma of spring that would speed up his recovery, as well as helped me manipulate the particles in the air to soothe his skin.

  Much to my surprise, Cian didn’t object even once while I worked, but instead lay still on my queen-size bed with its pink-and-gold quilt, his steady breaths filling the otherwise silent room.

  Whatever magic the Fae brothers had thrown at him hadn’t been designed to merely maim. The gashes were deep, angry red mouths that hadn’t only parted his skin but reached towards his internal organs. I didn’t doubt for a second that it was purely the colossal strength of Cian’s power that had kept them from becoming fatal.

  But as bad as they were, the slashes responded to the mixture of herbs and the will of my combined light and dark magic that urged them to close. Once that was done, I laid a protective sheen of energy over them like a Ban
d-Aid and bent over Cian to tap him lightly on his shoulder.

  “One Fae, packed and sealed,” I whispered, brushing my lips against the strands of purple hair that fell down his tattooed neck.

  Cian rolled over, and his hands wrapped around my hips before the sudden motion could throw me off him, as well as pressed me down against the rigid length of his erection at the same time. His gaze was a kaleidoscope of need and desire, his lips half parted as he watched me settle upon his naked body. A slow, wicked smile spread across his handsome face. Oh, gods.

  He tugged on the hem of my shirt. “Off.”

  That single command sent sparks shooting through my flesh, as did the hunger in his eyes that only deepened when I obliged. His hands were on me even before the shirt hit the ground, roaming all over my skin, and tracing my every curve with a gentleness that was so at odds with the steel of his erection nudging between my thighs. He hooked his fingers behind my bra, undid the clasps in a single move, and liberated my breasts.

  “Divine,” he whispered as his gaze drank in the sight. “So fecking perfect.”

  His Gaelic accent was as thick as my own arousal, my entire body yearning to be touched, to be ravaged by all the desire that transformed his features into something so raw, so sexual that it ensnared me completely.

  With one hand on my back, Cian pushed up from the mattress. His tongue flicked over my left nipple while his fingers worked at the other, rolling, pinching, caressing the sensitive flesh until I moaned and arched into his touch. Gods, no one had ever felt this good.

  He was without reservations, his power dancing with mine as if they belonged together. As if they had been waiting for one another from the very start. And they only inflamed us further. His mouth was relentless, teeth grazing my skin, the sensation keeping me suspended on that coveted line between pleasure and pain. Liquid heat blossomed between my thighs, an ache only he could fill. An ache I wanted only him to fill.