Windstorm (Nightwraith Book 1)

by Gaja J. Kos

  I narrowed my eyes at him, glowering at his blatant amusement. “How?”

  “You didn’t give me a manual when you blasted my body into particles, did you?”

  I was tempted to blast him to particles right now, but he had a meeting to get to, and I certainly didn’t want to go anywhere near Mommy Dearest, even with the Stone resting secured in the vaults.

  “I guided you,” I snarled.

  His fingers traced the curve of my breast, the touch igniting my skin even through the fabric of the white T-shirt. “And I have already guided you. Come on, Nightwraith. Your material empathy is unlike any other I’ve ever seen. Merge with it. You know you want to.”

  I so did not want to merge with another object of power, especially not one that defied each and every law of magic I knew. If the damned thing hadn’t responded when I touched it, opened to its voice and core to feel it out, it kind of made me think there must be a reason behind its actions. Or lack thereof. And it wasn’t merely that evanescing by chance wasn’t exactly practical.

  I let out a long breath. “Do I have to envision my destination or anything like that?”

  “I think you already know the answer to that, Liva. Stop stalling.” He flashed me his sharp incisors, promising a punishment I wouldn’t exactly mind, but I knew he was right.

  “Fine, fine,” I grumbled. “But if I end up somewhere weird, I expect you to come find me.”

  A deep laugh rumbled from his chest. “I would always come find you, love. After letting you stew for a few minutes.”

  “Gods, you’re impossible,” I groaned, but a treacherous chuckle escaped my lips. One that matched the mirth in his eyes.

  Knowing Cian wouldn’t leave for the meeting until I showed him that I could move around Faery and out of it at my convenience, I took a step back and squared my shoulders. The magic within my core greeted me, light and dark alike, swirling in anticipation to be used. But so was another.

  Even without touching the pendant, I could feel its energy calling out to mine. The sound was beautiful, so pure, so ethereal in its unusual strength, that my magic instinctively sought to merge with it. Only it wasn’t that familiar vine of empathy that reacted, but my power as a whole. I cursed under my breath and reluctantly allowed the damned things to do as they desired, all the while keeping the thought of the far end of the chamber in my mind.

  The power clashed somewhere within me, infusing every cell of my body with its unique blend, and for a moment, nothing happened. I barely had the chance to arch an eyebrow in silent question when the world around me fell away. My corporeal form disconnected from everything but the magic I was wrapped in, and I levitated through the in-between until my feet landed rather sloppily against the ground and I all but crashed into the wall behind me.

  The wall.

  I lifted my gaze to see Cian standing on the other side of the room, his muscular arms crossed in front of his chest and a satisfied smile playing on his face. I gratefully took in the sight this newly gained distance offered me, hoping to distract myself from the slight nausea that had accompanied the geographical shift.

  My gaze swept over the combat-appropriate pants that fit Cian like a wet dream, the purple hair he had swept back, which revealed the sharp, stunning planes and chiseled lines of his face. I took in the weapons that decorated his corded thighs next, coupled with a sword resting across his back, making him every inch the warrior that he was. Desire stirred within me, but it couldn’t overpower the pride that flamed in my chest. I did it. I actually did it.

  A smile stretched across my lips, and just as I wanted to brag that I fucking evanesced, Cian winked out of existence.

  I jumped as he materialized right in front of me, suddenly feeling every inch of the hunger that pulsed from his flesh. His mouth fell on mine, eager, demanding, his hands sliding around my body so possessively that I shivered, not entirely certain that my legs wouldn’t buckle.

  But his grip on me was unyielding.

  The next thing I knew, my back was to the wall, his knee spreading my thighs apart. The button on my jeans popped open under the pressure of his fingers, followed by the slow glide of the zipper.

  He kissed me fiercely before he tore himself away from my mouth to kneel down before me, his purple gaze dark with unbearable need as he eased the jeans past my hips. I barely managed to suck in a breath when the heated touch of his tongue swept over me. He stroked the sensitive bud above my folds, occasionally grazing the flesh with his teeth, interchanging the two until I moaned helplessly, my mind shattering under the entrancing blend of pleasure and pain.

  It was only his hold on my hips that kept me upright as I writhed, my entire body going up in flames. He slid a finger into the heat between my legs. Then another. Pumping. Stroking.

  I moved with him, small sounds spilling from my lips each time he brushed against that spot that drove me ever close to the edge until he pulled out of me sharply, but only to replace the skill of his fingers with his tongue.

  I came undone under his assault, the aftershocks that rode my body mixing with his groans as he drank in the creamy, silken evidence of my orgasm. He looked up at me then, his purple eyes alight with male satisfaction at the intensity of my reaction, and grinned.

  Gods, he was perfect.

  My taste was still on his lips when he captured my mouth once more, entrancing me so fully that I hardly noticed when we evanesced. He placed me on the soft mattress of his bed and smiled down at me, an aromatic glass of wine appearing on the nightstand with a flick of his hand.

  “A promise,” he whispered into my skin, his teeth grazing my pulse, “to continue when I return.”

  Breathless and boneless, I couldn’t do a damn thing but nod and watch him dissolve into thin air.

  Chapter 25

  The sudden commotion in the manor woke me up.

  I didn’t remember falling asleep, but the time spent with Cian, coupled with that delicious glass of red must have knocked me out. Not particularly surprising since I hadn’t been able to catch any true rest ever since the fiasco at the auction—at least not the kind my body and magic needed.

  But even as I felt the strain still riddling my limbs, my mind was on instant alert.

  The manor had been so quiet before. I’d been aware of other Fae going about their business somewhere in the vast chambers of the house, but their presence had been unobtrusive, giving Cian and me the privacy we had wanted. To hear them so loudly now…

  I braced myself on my hands, listening to the array of voices bouncing off the walls.

  Anger. Worry. Concern.

  My gut clenched as the word “High Lord” filtered through to me, and I instantly sought the bond now tethered to my core. I felt Cian’s essence there, but the sensation was dampened as if he were far away. Or as if something was blocking me from sensing him fully.

  My stomach did an uneasy flip. Something was wrong.

  I pushed from the bed, my bare feet padding silently down the hallway, seeking out the nearest source of the voices. I turned a corner and followed a spacious, window-lined corridor until I emerged on the landing. Three figures spun in my direction the instant I approached—muscular, armed to the teeth, and undoubtedly Fae. The pulse of their power assaulted me, not only brushing against my skin but reaching beneath it, assessing whether I was a threat. I felt the moment they touched the bond, their eyes widening in realization.

  “High Lord’s consort.” The tallest of the three—a male with shoulder-length auburn hair and jade eyes—bowed, and the other two followed suit.

  But I didn’t give a fuck about pleasantries. “What’s going on?” I pressed. “Something happened to Cian, didn’t it?”

  They stared at me with unreadable faces, but the shadows in their eyes gave away that I was right. Fuck. I released the hold on my own power, allowing it to rush over them, to carry the determination and the demand for answers alike.

  “Gather the others. I’ll join you shortly,” the Fae said to his
companions, sending them running down the stairs, before he turned his green gaze back on me. “Consort, my name is Tierney. The High Lord has failed to attend the afternoon meeting.”

  Anger coiled in the pit of my stomach, mixed with whispers of fear. “The Court of Fire?”

  “We believe so.”

  I let out a long, hissing breath. “He’s still alive, I know that much.”

  Though the Fae remained stoic, a glimmer of hope sparked up in his jade eyes. But that same emergence of hope reminded me why Tierney had thought the worst in the first place. The vision of Riordan’s heart swam in front of my eyes, as well as the repaired wards around the rental house. Dread washed over me in sickening waves, my magic swirling in response, but I forced myself to remember that Cian was alive. That they still needed him for something—although what that was, I had no idea.

  “The hallow?” I asked

  Tierney stiffened.

  “For Chernobog’s sake,” I cried out, more than a little tempted to smack the Fae. “I was the one that helped Cian get the bloody thing back! I’m not going to steal it now!”

  A hint of surprise flickered across the Fae’s handsome features.

  “Tell me. Is it secure? Is it still here?”

  He gave a curt dip of his chin. “Only the High Lord is missing.”

  And that was all the answer I was going to get, judging by the cold tone of his voice. I groaned and rubbed my temples, pissed at myself that I didn’t interrogate Cian about the ways of the Stone when I still had the chance. Getting Tierney to cough up the information meant losing time we didn’t have. Power saturated my flesh, light and darkness alike, growing, spreading, until I became every inch as lethal as the Fae standing before me.

  My voice was harsh, dry, perfectly devoid of any emotion as I demanded, “What happens if Cian dies?”

  “With the hallow in our possession, the power of the Stone remains with our court. Without a High Lord, we would be vulnerable for attacks, but our lands would not be defenseless.”

  A shiver crawled down my spine at the implication. “And your priorities?”

  “To keep the Stone secured at all costs. Even our High Lord’s life.”

  My heart sank, but the fury clawing inside me was stronger.

  Tierney must have felt the wrath carried on the currents of my energy and hastily added, “We have every intention to send out our warriors. But you must understand, our duty is to safeguard the hallow. I have sworn it on my life, as every other warrior has, bound to the court.”

  It took every ounce of my will not to let the demonic whispers inside me strangle the Fae. I was tempted. I was so fucking tempted. But their presence, their almost overwhelming need to protect our other half gave me another idea. Cold sweat broke on my skin as the plan took form, but not even my deepest fears could stop me from enacting it.

  I straightened my spine and met Tierney’s green gaze. “Show me where you suspect he was taken. And bring any items that have ties to the Court of Fire, as irrelevant as you think they may be.”

  The throbbing in my temples had grown into a crushing headache by the time I went through every inch of the grassy expanse where Tierney presumed the Court of Fire had jumped Cian. Unable to get to the hallow with Cian’s men stationed around it, as well as the additional wards I’d helped cast as soon as he locked it in the vault, the bastards seemed to have settled for the next best thing. Robbing the court of the High Lord that had thwarted their plans.

  I followed the faint traces of magic still lingering in the air, finding what I now recognized as Gearoid’s signature embedded within the energy. There were no other clues floating about, no hints as to how they had managed to overpower him—or the state Cian was in. But I really didn’t need anything else. I knew who my target was.

  So I returned to the manor and went through every damned object Tierney had been able to provide.

  Every nerve in my body urged me to hurry, to sweep through their cores and be done with it. But I had to be precise. And the teeth-grinding patience had proven its worth.

  Glimpses of the foreign court were now embedded in my mind as vivid and lifelike as they had been within the items’ memories. I hadn’t been able to puzzle together a complete picture, exactly, but it was enough to get a feel for the land. In more ways than one.

  Tierney was observing me with wary eyes as I placed the last of the objects down on the table and pressed my palms against the polished wood, sucking in long, slow breaths of air. Nausea stirred within me at the exhaustion, but deep down I knew it was only a petty excuse, masking the true reason behind my unease. I kicked myself mentally, and shoved away any lingering doubts.

  “That’ll be all, Tierney,” I said as I pushed off the table, my fingers already wrapping around the soothing, cool surface of the amethyst pendant.

  “We will send our men out, consort,” he said hastily as he recognized the object of power for what it was. And undoubtedly read my intentions, too. Only not all of them.

  Our gazes met, and, as much as I wanted to condemn the auburn-haired warrior for his lack of action, for his misplaced priorities, the light magic inside me kept me from passing judgment. The Kolduny placed their vows above all else; it was in our nature.

  It didn’t stop me from hating Tierney for his decision, but, at the same time, I understood. Especially when it was my own vow that prevented me from doing anything less than to try and get Cian back. Regardless of the cost.

  “I do hope we meet again,” I said, raw sincerity lining my words, then gave the Fae a sad smile. “Under better circumstances.”

  “Until then,” Tierney replied, dipping his chin in acknowledgment.

  My gaze swept over the Fae’s regal posture one more time, noting the concern—and gratitude—in his eyes, before I evanesced, entering the world I knew once more.

  Chapter 26

  Once I was back in my lair, I went through all the equipment I borrowed from Lena, immensely grateful that I hadn’t returned it yet. If the wards set up at the Court of Fire were anything like what I witnessed around Riordan’s rental home or around Cian’s manor, I would never be able to sneak in unnoticed—even with the gadgets I had. But, luckily for me, I didn’t care whether the fuckers noticed my presence or not.

  As long as I could get in, nothing else mattered.

  I zipped up the bag, went over to my wardrobe and pulled out one of my old outfits. I was grateful my curves had already fully developed in my mid-teens, so I didn’t have to squeeze myself into the formfitting garments I’d once trained in. The black pants clung to me like a second skin, the reinforced black long-sleeved T-shirt leaving little of me exposed to magic attacks. At least those of the mild variety, although it just might absorb something a bit stronger, too, giving me a fighting chance.

  I could feel the reassuring presence of the enchanted iron threads woven into the fabric, warding me from evil with its unique properties. It was kind of ironic, actually, that I, someone of demon and Kolduny blood, used protection that was initially designed to shield its bearer from those of my kind. But like everything else in my life that was twisted beyond compare—from my native magic to the turn of events that had taken over my reality—it made sense that I wouldn’t exactly go with any conventional methods of defense, either. It was one of those rare times when being my parents’ daughter actually had its benefits.

  However, as well equipped as I was, I did need something else to complete my ensemble. And it wasn’t going to come to me of its own accord.

  So I pulled on my boots with shaky fingers, swung the bag across my back, and strode out of my lair.

  The Shadow World wasn’t an alternate realm, exactly. More of a shielded section within the one the majority knew and lived in. It didn’t even overlap with the world like the Kolduny’s circle, from which my father originated, but rather existed as an opposite. The darkness to the light. The ethereal to the material.

  The rules here manipulated space, making our would-be realm
appear larger, grander, every inch of it submerged in the soothing shadows in which demons strived. It was a reality created of shapes and shades. Even the paths connecting the various lairs were without substance—merely threads of energy to walk upon, keeping you from falling into the endless void of gray.

  The place always gave me the creeps. I hated the ominous presence of death and destruction, the way my body felt translucent, merging with the silhouettes. Particle form was nothing compared to the sense of disembodiment that ruled the vastness of the Shadow World.

  I held on to the image of Cian in my mind, to the magic inside me, not light or darkness, but the inseparable blend of both that called to be reunited with its mate. His phantom kisses burned on my lips, on my skin, the sensation driving me forward, giving me the strength to do what I had to.

  Even if it meant giving up my own life, I knew I had to save his.

  I stopped as I reached a sizzling barrier of energy and uncurled a single vine of power. The ward recognized my essence immediately, its translucent surface parting like drapes until I was standing before a set of double doors with nothing but the cold iron separating me from the chamber. From what could be my death, in the end.

  I curled my fingers around the very solid handle and pushed inside, reluctant to give even one additional second for my doubts or fears to grow. The presence of demons washed over me the instant I crossed the threshold, lapping at me from all directions with a hint of surprise and a shitload of amusement.

  But there was only one thread of energy I sought.

  Keeping my chin high and my steps determined, I strode straight towards the far wall, ignoring the curious, hungry eyes that were following my movements. Bloody leeches. The lot of them.

  As I reached the throne of black mist after what seemed an eternity had passed, I went down on one knee and bowed. “Mother.”

  “Rise.”