Dark Angel

by Kim Richardson

  The cat turned around, thin spider legs still wiggling from his lips. “What?” he swallowed. “Protein. I’m starving here! Would you rather see me starve to death?”

  I let out a frustrated breath. I was starving too, which probably accounted for some of my temper. Low blood sugar or something.

  The faint sound of running feet broke the stillness. My heart pounded.

  Oh. Shit.

  “It’s not even sunrise!” shrilled Tyrius. Bits of spider flew from his mouth as he jumped to his feet, his ears and tail flicking.

  I leapt to my feet, soul blade ready as I gripped it in my hand. I wouldn’t let them take me without a fight. Gareth still sat on the floor, unmoving.

  “Gareth,” I hissed under my breath and then glared. “What’s the matter with you?” I was going to kick his ass, the rest be damned. I knew it. I felt it in my bones.

  Muscles tight, I waited, crouched in a fighting stance with my heart thrashing wildly in my chest.

  The sound of feet neared, and then Asher appeared at the bars, a smile on his face.

  He looked past me over to Gareth. “You all right there, little brother?”

  Gareth got to his feet slowly. “Never better,” he said, as he stretched. “Though a beer would have been nice.” Grinning, he reached out through the bars to grab his brother’s arms at the elbow in some secret greeting, handshake man thing.

  Mind racing, I straightened and stared at this exchange, not knowing what to think anymore.

  “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on!” cried the cat. “I’m starting to shed!”

  Asher’s smile widened, and kindness shone in his eyes. I really saw the resemblance to his brother now. “You have the key?” he asked, his stance confident and casual.

  Gareth let go of his brother and turned to me. “Rowyn, can you give me your necklace, please.”

  No. Freaking. Way. “It’s a key?”

  Gareth’s smile was breathtaking. “It’s a key.”

  “That sneaky elf bastard,” beamed Tyrius, his front canines showing. “You’ve been wearing a key to this hell hole this whole time and you didn’t even know it. It’s awesome.”

  It was my turn to smile. I pulled out the brilliant white stone from under my shirt, enjoying the warmth against my skin and the light it gave off between my fingers. It wasn’t just pretty. It was a key. The key to our freedom.

  I was going to jump my hot elf when we got out of here.

  “But? How? I don’t…” Now I sounded like a blabbering idiot.

  “That stone around your neck isn’t just a regular stone,” answered Asher, his dark eyes intent. “Elf stones are magical. They’re rare and precious. One of the reasons is because they protect you from elf dust. They can absorb it.”

  I glanced down at the stone, only now realizing how the elf dust got in there. It was absorbed.

  Asher shifted his weight. “You see. Elf stones have been used for generations as master keys to unlock magical doors or any protection ward by absorbing and removing its magic, the elf dust.”

  My eyes rested on Gareth. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Gareth shook his head. “I couldn’t. My father would have seen it in your eyes. He would have guessed you had an elf stone. I couldn’t risk it.” He took a breath. “You still mad at me?”

  “Not anymore.” I slipped the necklace over my head and gave him the stone.

  “Thank you,” he said and then handed it to his brother through the silver bars.

  Asher moved to the opposite side of the wall to the small glass box mounted there and filled with purple elf dust I’d noticed before. He pressed the stone against the box, said a few words in Elvish, and stepped back.

  “It’s happening. I’m getting the feels everywhere,” said Tyrius as he stood stalk still, looking like a taxidermy cat.

  The elf stone shimmered and glowed, turning from white to a deep purple. There was a flash of brilliant white light followed by the overwhelming scent of lavender. I closed my eyes and looked away from the light for a moment.

  And when I opened my eyes, our prison bars were gone. So was the purple elf dust in the box.

  “Hot diggidy dam!” exclaimed Tyrius as he bounded out of our cell. “Hate elven magic, but that was cool.”

  I had to agree. I looked at Gareth and the smug smile on his face. “You’re lucky it worked ‘cause I was about this close—” I made a gesture with my thumb and index finger, “to kicking your ass.”

  Gareth laughed, and then so did I. Damn. I was in serious trouble.

  “This is yours.” Asher handed me back my stone.

  I held it close and examined it. Not even a scratch. Satisfied, I slipped the necklace over my head just as Asher stuck out his hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Rowyn,” he said. “I just wish it were under better circumstances.”

  “No worries.” I shook his hand, feeling a surge of gratitude. “I’d kiss you, but I don’t think your brother would like that.”

  Asher laughed. “No. No he wouldn’t.”

  Tyrius rolled his eyes. “Please. Enough with the flirting. Will you? We’re supposed to be getting the hell out of here.”

  There was a short silence and then Gareth said, “You brought the dragon’s breath?”

  My heart did a little flip. Tyrius’s mouth worked but nothing came out.

  From the folds of his jacket, Asher retrieved a small glass vial filled with a red, powdery substance. “It’s all I could find. I hope it’s enough to save your friend.”

  Gareth took the vial and dropped it in a coat pocket. “There’s enough. Thanks, brother.”

  Asher smiled without showing any teeth. “You have to hurry. You have about forty-five minutes before the guards realize you’re gone. Make it count.”

  Gareth pulled his brother into a hug. “You come see me next time you’re in town. We’ll go for a beer.”

  Asher blinked rapidly. “Yeah.” His faint smile carried old pain.

  God, even my eyes started to burn.

  “What about your father?” I asked.

  “I’ve said my piece,” answered the elf as he pulled away from his brother. “There’s nothing more I can do for him. My brothers will look after him.”

  “He hasn’t always been this way,” said Asher, his face grave. “He’s changed since our mother passed. He never got over her death.”

  Gareth looked away for a moment, but I didn’t understand what I saw on his face. “Let’s get out of here.” He pressed his hand against my lower back, his tension making his movements rough and hard. There was something final in the way he’d said that, like this was the last time he’d ever come back.

  My pace was fast as I darted out through the cold, musty gloom of our cell.

  I smiled, my pulse spiking. Perhaps we’d been lucky after all.

  14

  The sun was arching upward in the sky, painting the inside of Evanora’s shop in yellows and oranges. Dust particles swirled around us like snow and I had to resist the urge to cover my face.

  Gareth had instructed us to open the curtains and the widows to let the sun in so he could perform his healing magic on Danto with the newly acquired dragon’s breath.

  Evanora had been waiting for us when we all burst into her shop. The witch was still up, waiting by the dying vampire, who she’d carefully covered with a thick wool blanket with another rolled up rag tucked under his head. For an old witch, she was pretty tough. Again, I was impressed but also curious as to why she even cared. But I didn’t have time to worry about that now.

  We all huddled around Danto, watching as Gareth performed another round of healing spells with his elf magic. He’d been at it for over an hour now, sprinkling the vampire with first a large dose of the dragon’s breath and then proceeding with different colored elf dust. His face was screwed up in concentration.

  Gareth had barely said a word as we drove back into the city—me stealing covert looks at my elf lord, him speeding d
own the highway, his expression guarded. I didn’t know what he was thinking, and it was irritating me. Yes, I’d had an intense glimpse into the elf’s life in only a few hours, but I wanted more.

  I was tired, but I was too wired and worried to let myself snooze for the forty-five minutes it took us to drive south back into Mystic Quarter. However, Tyrius dozed off as soon as he curled around in a ball on my lap. He even drooled a little.

  I watched, transfixed as the elf sprinkled a layer of blue elf dust all over the vampire, his mouth moving rapidly in an Elvish chant. Next to him, I could see the bright ring of the charmed circle of elemental magic embedded in the floor he’d drawn around Danto with the red dragon’s breath colored dust. Radiating out from it were red threads making a spiral pentagram with arcane Elvish symbols.

  The room buzzed with elemental magic, replacing the scent of mold, blood, and death, which was Evanora’s preferred shop fragrance, with the scent of earth, wildflowers, and pinecones. My heart pounded at the sudden jolt of magic as Gareth flung another handful of elf dust, this time a yellowish gold. Power that seemed to have picked up with the rising sun coursed in, finding a balance within Gareth and his elven magic.

  Was he drawing power from the sun? Was that even possible?

  A strong wind rolled through the open windows, sending papers scattering on the ground in every direction. The elf dust flowed with the wind, swimming with it, taking on a wave as though the elf dust manipulated the wind and told it what to do, bending it to its will. The wind stirred around Gareth, lifting his coat around him like a cape.

  Curious, I leaned forward, feeling the flow of energy coursing through me, winding its way through my DNA and right back out like a soul searching for its rightful owner’s body. I shivered as I felt it leave me.

  “Demon balls,” cursed Tyrius, the fur on his back shifting, his eyes wide. He saw me staring and said, “Elemental magic always gives me the willies. Something about Mother Earth and the Netherworld not seeing eye to eye. Just keep your hands to your sides. You never know.”

  Whatever Gareth was doing, it was strong. Very strong. Calling up the earth’s own energies, its own magic, and mixing it with his own wild magic—pullomancy. This wasn’t witch magic, borrowing from demons. This was natural, wild magic. It made me want to learn it even more.

  Gareth knelt above Danto as a faint glow of gold surrounded him, radiating from his skin. Then he leaned forward and placed his hands on Danto.

  Energy pulsed, the wind gusted around the elf and the vampire, and Danto’s pale skin started to glow. The same gold that radiated from Gareth was now glowing from Danto like he’d passed it on to the vampire.

  It seemed similar to the ritual Gareth had performed on the witch after she’d tried to remove my archdemon curse, yet particularly more complex, dangerous and powerful.

  My gaze fell on the old witch, her expression lost in her folds of skin. Evanora was silent as she sat in a chair facing the elf, her cane resting next to her.

  Even with only one good eye, the intensity with which it was absorbing every single bit of detail in the healing ritual was enough for two eyes. It was as though she was processing it, not wanting to miss the smallest detail and recording everything. Evanora was as smart as they came. Was she planning on learning pullomancy? Probably. I knew the white witches used elemental magic. Rumor was it wasn’t as powerful as the dark witches’ magic, but I wasn’t so sure anymore. If the elf was using it to heal a vampire from a powerful archdemon curse, perhaps there was more to the white witches than we knew.

  “I’m not seeing any difference. What if we were too late?” Tyrius sat next to me on the floor, his eyes wide with fear, looking dejected with his ears flat on his head.

  My chest contracted. “It’s going to work.” It had to work. My blood had kept him alive this long. It had to mean something.

  “Just…” the cat exhaled, as though he was formulating what he was about to say next. “Be prepared and expect the worst.”

  Pushing my morbid thoughts away, I looked at Gareth, but the elf gave no indication that he’d heard Tyrius or that we were in the room along with him. His face was set with grim determination as his lips moved in a chant.

  “He was still alive when we got here.” I looked at Danto and searched for a sign of improvement but found none.

  “Barely alive.”

  “Alive is alive. Alive is not dead.”

  The cat shrugged. “Not necessarily. I’ve seen the dead alive—in a matter of speaking.”

  A shiver rolled over me. Yeah. I knew exactly what he was referring to. Unlike many fantasy novels and movies, when a vampire died, he didn’t come back with a second life. He was dead, dead. Just like any other half-breed. Once you’re dead, you stayed dead. Unless a master necromancer decided to play with you, usually you were food for maggots.

  And trust me, that was the better option.

  A moan, though faint, cut through the air as though it had been a scream.

  I jerked upright and pulled myself onto my knees towards Danto. My lips parted.

  Gray eyes stared back at me, those lovely eyes framed with lashes that would make any woman envious. Though his skin was still pale and blemished with a few scars, it wasn’t burned or blackened but rather smooth with his natural fair color. Even his cheeks had a bit of color returning to them.

  Blinking fast, I reached over Danto and grabbed Gareth’s face with my hands, crushing my lips against his. I didn’t care how it looked, or that Evanora might even be taking notes. I just kissed the hell out of that elf.

  His lips moved against mine, and I knelt there, my heart pounding as I tasted him—oak and pine and water shining in the sun. His breath caught, and I swear the elf growled. The scent of lavender and male perspiration rose, and a soft sigh escaped me. God he smelled good.

  For a moment there was just me and the elf. Nothing else mattered. A thrill welled through me from my lips to my toes. My pulse jumped, and I kissed him harder, faster.

  “For the love of demons, get a room,” expressed Tyrius, and the laughter in his voice sobered me right up.

  My heart pounded as I pulled back. I looked at Gareth, the feel of our lips parting sparking through me. His eyes smoldered and I held their heat, tasting him on my lips.

  “That was a thank you kiss,” I said. My lips burned where he had been. I was tingling everywhere, and his eyes danced with desire.

  Gareth’s lips curled into a smile. “You’re welcome.” His eyes lingered on my lips for a moment, and then his attention snapped to Danto. “His breathing is regular. His color is back. It’s what I was hoping for. The dragon’s breath worked. The darkness is gone. It’ll take time, but I’m confident he should make a full recovery.”

  I let out a long breath, settling back on my knees. “Thank the souls.” He was going to be all right.

  The witch leaned back, snorting through her long nose. “Evanora told you the elf could heal the vampire.”

  I felt eyes on me, and I looked up to find Evanora’s milky white eye fixed on me. Damn. That was creepy. But even creepier was the way her lips curled on the ends, her face rising to give me a smile utterly lacking in warmth. What the hell was that about?

  Tyrius leaped up on the vampire’s chest and rubbed his face on his neck. “Dude. Don’t ever not-die again. You hear me? You nearly scared the demon balls right off me.”

  Danto’s eyes widened as his gaze darted about the room, clearly not recognizing Evanora’s shop in broad daylight.

  “We’re in Evanora Crow’s shop,” I told him, and he blinked several times, as though seeing the shop for the first time. A faint flush covered his cheeks. “Remember, we came here before…” I couldn’t finish. I didn’t want to bring up the topic of Layla right now. The woman he loved had tried to kill him. But I knew it was pointless.

  Those gray eyes fixed on me. “Layla?” his voice was weak and hoarse, like it was the first time he’d ever used it.

  I leaned over and gin
gerly pressed my hand on his shoulder. “Don’t talk. Keep your strength. I don’t want you to worry about her right now. We’re going to get her back. Don’t you worry. Everything will be fine. I promise.” Lies. Lies. Lies. I was going straight to the Netherworld when I died, so what did it matter that I said a little white lie to my friend?

  “Rowyn’s right,” said Gareth after a long moment of silence, a slight frown on his face. He took off his hat, settling it next to him on the floor, and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “You need to concentrate on getting better. On getting your strength back.” The elf’s eyes met mine, and I could tell we were thinking the same thing. The vampire was going to do something stupid before he was completely healed. We’d have to keep an eye on him. Because this time, if Layla fried his ass, he was going to stay dead.

  The truth was, I had no idea how to get Layla back or how to eradicate the darkness. We’d tried to remove it from me before and it had nearly killed the witch. It was hopeless. Part of me knew we’d never get her back. It was already too late.

  Layla had given herself over to the darkness completely. Those black eyes confirmed it. She wasn’t Layla anymore… she was something else.

  But I wouldn’t give up, not when I still drew breath. I wouldn’t let my little sister become Lucian’s puppet. I would get her back. I just didn’t know how.

  I looked at Tyrius and he shared a knowing look of bleakness with me. We both knew what we were up against—a dark power we couldn’t defeat. Lucian was up to something. And we were going to face it on our own.

  I hung my head, hands in my lap. Tyrius’s loud growl pulled my attention back to him as the cat flung himself off the vampire and landed on the floor behind me.

  The hair on the back of my neck prickled. With my jaw clenched, I whirled around on my knees and cursed.

  There, standing in the doorway was an angel.

  15

  “ W ell, my morning is ruined,” growled Tyrius, his fur standing on end. “What the hell is a freaking halo doing here?”

  I shrugged. “I dunno. I didn’t put up the bat signal.”

  The angel was female in her mid-twenties, her long, light brown hair styled neatly in a French braid. Like all angels on this side of the world, her fair skin glowed a soft white light, as though she was illuminated by the almighty from the inside. Dressed all in black in some subtle material, I could see her soul blade on her hip beneath her jacket. She was tall for a woman. Maybe even taller than me.