But the moment she took a single step, the assassin vanished from sight, apparently teleporting to an unknown location—and for a few, brief moments, she thought he was gone for good, making it safe to tend to Mikail's needs.
Yet the assassin's destination turned out to be the empty space right behind her.
In an instant, a powerful arm wrapped around her neck, cutting off her air supply as she attempted to cry out. But it didn't matter. Her life was likely to end in mere moments, yet her struggles had nothing to do with saving it, and everything to do with reaching Mikail as he clutched his lacerated throat.
Unsurprisingly, such efforts proved fruitless, though it wasn't the assassin's strength or skill that prevented her success in assisting her mate. Instead, as she sputtered his name, the Perosian merely transported her away from him—and not simply by teleporting.
No, he opened a portal using a magic stone, ushering her to another world entirely.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
♦
Consciousness was fleeting, though Mikail was still aware when the assassin holding his cherished mate hostage produced a portal stone from his belt to open a mystical doorway to another world, then dragged Kivsey through it.
And the gash in his neck prevented him from making a sound.
His only option was to attempt reaching the temporary portal before it closed, but his injuries simply wouldn't allow it. Just a scant moment after the assassin disappeared with Kivsey in tow, the doorway vanished along with any hope of finding her before it was too late.
As if the resulting despair was a physical burden, Mikail collapsed to the floor, clutching his throat as blood seeped between his fingers, draining him to the point of blacking out. But the only pain he felt was the agony of uncertainty centered in his heart. Was his mate about to suffer the same fate as his parents? To be killed by Perosians worlds away while he was helpless to prevent it?
The thought was absolutely unbearable, and would've suffused him with enraged panic if he hadn't been on the verge of passing out. Already, his fingers were growing cold, his vision dimming to nothingness, proving his body was about to die beyond all doubt—and whether his newfound immortality revived him all depended on Kivsey's survival.
But for as resourceful as she was, the odds weren't good.
Still, in what seemed like mere moments after Mikail fell unconscious, he grew increasingly aware of a man's voice coming from somewhere nearby. Initially, the sound made it seem as if his spirit had found its way to some afterlife, and he tried to focus on what the voice was saying, but the phrases didn't make any sense. Return to your meals, it started, followed by once you do, you'll forget seeing this, as well as the anxiety it's caused.
The words left Mikail bewildered as his eyes slowly cracked open. Not only was he uncertain of who was speaking and what they meant, his body seemed to be fully functional again. There was no longer a gash in his throat, or any holes in his torso.
Had he actually regenerated? Could that mean his mate was still well? Or at the very least, still breathing?
“They've taken her, haven't they?”
Mikail was so consumed with both confusion and worry for Kivsey that he reacted violently to the unexpected question, quickly rolling aside to raise his blade. In turn, the tip met a throat belonging to someone he didn't expect to see—Ardilon.
Crouched next to him, the divinian didn't flinch in response to the offensive movement. Instead, he merely waited patiently for an answer, offering Mikail a moment to consider the situation.
Perhaps the strange comments uttered a moment ago were actually Ardilon's, directed at the humans currently visiting Joan's home for the dinner party. The commotion caused by Mikail's fight had likely drawn their attention, forcing the divinian to exert his influence and turn them all away.
But though Mikail was grateful for the assistance, he couldn't help thinking the divinian looked far too calm for the current situation to seem fitting.
“Yes,” he growled in answer to the question of Kivsey's abduction. “And I have no fucking idea where they went.”
As he spoke, his mind was inundated with questions. Why hadn't the assassin simply killed Kivsey when he had the chance? Did he fear the consequences of murdering a human in Terra? Had they learned Kivsey worked for The Bastion and were trying to avoid The Crucible's retaliation?
It was hard to say, and may not matter if he couldn't find a way to follow them soon. But how?
As if in answer, Ardilon nodded, then waved a hand and stated, “I do know where they went. It's why I came.”
He knows? The words crashed down like a boulder, and Mikail lowered his blade with the demand, “If you know, then take me there!”
In response, the divinian shook his head, mentioning, “I'm waiting on a few friends to join us before departing. In the meantime, you'll need to prepare while I inform you of everything I've learned.”
Mikail almost snapped to tell him they didn't have time. But, in realizing Ardilon's calm demeanor probably meant he knew Kivsey wasn't in immediate danger, he suppressed the instinctive drive to find his mate as quickly as possible, and did as directed.
Standing from the floor to locate the rest of his clothing, he asked the divinian, “What is it? Did you find more assassins?”
“I did,” Ardilon confirmed. “Three nameless arrived at Kivsey's apartment an hour ago, and once they realized she wasn't there, one of them used to a portal stone to rejoin their friends and give a report. The second came here to look, and the last remained to watch her abode. So I apprehended him, and learned they're not intent on killing Kivsey until they know more about what she's up to, who she is, and why she was seen spying on one of their assassins at Foxy's nightclub.”
Mikail shoved his arms into the sleeves of his button down so hard he thought the material would rip. If these bastards wanted information, they'd torture her for it, and because Perosian demons could read a mortal's fears and desires by simply gazing into their eyes, it wouldn't be difficult for them to terrorize her into answering.
Of course, her elven ancestry or their bond as mates might block their efforts. But in that case, they'd resort to harming her, meaning it didn't matter either way.
And he had to find her now.
As soon as the thought struck, three divinians appeared in the room behind Ardilon, two women and one man. Each looked like a normal human on the surface, dressed in casual clothing that could've been purchased from any everyday clothing outlet.
But they also possessed radiant halos of light in their eyes as a testament to their true abilities.
Looking back, Ardilon inquired, “Have you confined the Perosian?”
All three nodded, and one of the women remarked, “We have. So unless you've changed your mind and would rather take more of us, we're ready to depart.”
Ardilon seemed to consider that for a moment, then shook his head. “No, that won't be necessary. We'll be enough to defend the city.”
His response caught Mikail's full attention. “Wait, what do you mean by defend the city?”
Plainly, Ardilon explained, “The nameless we apprehended has informed us that a large group of assassins is now gathered in what you call The Hamlet, preparing to launch an assault on Satorala. Gyles has been an informant of theirs for years, and he's supplied the location of the city so they can commence with their plan of informing Empress Dalia that her policies, and even her reign, won't be tolerated.”
Mikail stared at the divinian in shock. So that's what Gyles was talking about at Foxy's. The nameless assassins didn't want Dalia instituting changes in the empire, and hitting her where it hurt meant attacking a place she considered a second home—Satorala.
So, in addition to saving Kivsey's life, it was necessary to warn everyone, saying the city wasn't already under attack. If so, they'd need all the help they could get, and Ardilon's plan to provide it was questionable at best, prompting his next inquiry.
“So a large group of
trained assassins have assembled to attack Satorala, and all you want to take are three divinians?” Skeptically, he added, “What about Kivsey? I'm not risking her life just because you have an inflated ego.”
At that, Ardilon actually smiled, providing a confident response Mikail could only hope proved true.
“Don't be so quick to judge, Mikail. For as dire as the situation is, it's likely to be over before you know it, particularly once you've alerted the necessary parties for us.”
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
♦
Kivsey was getting extremely tired of taking unexpected trips through portals, to say nothing for her vexation over the danger posed to her life each time it happened.
But strangely, it seemed her abductor wasn't actually intent on killing her—yet.
Instead, after they emerged from the temporary portal created by his portal stone, he wasted no time securing her wrists behind her back by jerking her arms into place so hard she thought they might break. Yet she didn't complain, realizing he'd only ignore her, if not hurt her even worse, which brought to mind a specific question. Why hasn't he killed me?
Perhaps, once Gyles told the assassins her name, they'd looked her up and learned she worked for The Bastion. If so, they may have been leery about killing a human with ties to The Crucible.
Whatever the case, she didn't question the matter for long in looking up to realize their current whereabouts were actually familiar. We're in The Hamlet.
For reasons unknown, the assassin had brought her back to Ithelyon, and they'd arrived a short distance from one of the stone bridges crossing the river where Mikail had fished during their visit. Just as before, the scenery was invitingly lush, but instead of finding a deserted haven where one might stop for a break, the area was now occupied by numerous Perosians, and even a few Dok'aal.
Furthermore, none of them looked very friendly.
In scanning over the numerous assassins, Kivsey didn't spy Gyles among them, but the same, blond Perosian she'd witnessed him speaking with at Foxy's was standing at the end of the bridge.
And her abductor shoved her toward him.
Stumbling forward, Kivsey fought to stay on her feet in coming face to face with the demon. But even knowing her life was on the line, she didn't fear him, or anyone else standing nearby.
She only feared for Mikail's safety.
At that very moment, he could be dead on her bedroom floor, or at the very least, be in dire need of her help. The thought alone sent a chill up her spine so powerful she was overcome with nausea, making it difficult to recall that their bond could keep him alive.
Short of a decapitation, we'll both survive as long as the other lives. Mikail spoke those very words earlier that night, meaning there was a chance he'd survive his injuries without her direct help, right?
Only if I live, too.
That being the case, she decided her own life took more precedence than she'd originally given it—and inwardly promised to aim for the blond assassin if her nausea got any worse.
Not that he seemed interested in her initially, and instead, focused on his companion still holding her arms in a tight clutch when he asked, “Have they left for Satorala?”
“They have,” the blond replied. “We wanted to get underway while waiting for one of you to return with news.”
Left for Satorala? Get underway? It was difficult to know precisely what the demons were talking about. Did he mean a group of assassins had gone to Satorala? If so, why, and how did they know where it was located?
Kivsey tried to piece it all together, but no answers came until she recalled Mikail's suspicion that the nameless intended to send a message to Empress Dalia, who'd spent most of her life in Satorala. So perhaps they planned to attack in a display of resistance to her reign, and Gyles was supplying the city's location.
Those possibilities certainly fit the facts, but there was no time to consider it in depth. Instead, a pain shot through Kivsey's scalp when the blond assassin reached up to grasp the hair at her crown in a tight fist.
Using that grip, he jerked her head back and pressed a knife to her throat with the opposing hand. The blade bit into her skin, as cold to the touch as his icy blue eyes—and she wasn't oblivious to the reason he was staring so intently into her own. Perosian demons had the ability to glimpse a mortal's fears and desires by looking into their eyes, meaning he was searching for leverage.
Of course, she had no idea if that ability would actually work on her. Being part elven might prevent him from using it—and the moment the thought struck, the assassin's brow creased in uncertainty.
“You're not fully human,” he concluded on a soft tone.
Sneering, Kivsey didn't waste a moment retorting coldly, “No, I'm mostly a bitch. So go fuck yourself.”
Removing his blade from her throat, a small, cold smirk curved his lips, proving he wasn't at all offended by her comment—just as a hand cracked across her cheek.
The force of his slap would've toppled her over if her arms weren't still gripped in a tight squeeze. But instead of falling, she merely stumbled, pain stabbing through her jaw with a distinct copper tang forming in her mouth.
Realizing her teeth had cut the inside of her cheek, she slowly lifted her head and inspected the damage with her tongue, then asked, “What the hell do you want from me?”
During her question, a waft of smoke appeared nearby. The occurrence seemed random, at least until Gyles emerged, his teleportation snagging the assassin's attention.
Looking over, the demon asked, “Has the attack commenced?”
“It has,” Gyles confirmed—and Kivsey's gut clenched.
If her assumption over their plans was correct, Satorala was now under attack, and the only thing that rivaled her worry was anger. Not only was the idea of what they were doing infuriating, she was also pissed at her inability to take direct action to stop them, making it difficult to focus when the blond demon finally answered her question.
Motioning at Gyles, he started, “You're here now because, after your visit to Foxy's, Gyles suspected Arias sent you to spy, but we couldn't be sure it wasn't actually Chancellor Gallos, or some other Dok'aal.”
Kivsey's gaze darted back and forth between them in uncertainty as the assassin continued, “So Gyles did a little digging for us and learned from the Satoralans that you're a friend of Arias.”
“A friend?” she asked, thinking that word was too strong to describe her acquaintance with the Ancient. But she didn't want to say so without knowing why their relationship—or lack of one—was of any interest to the nameless, and kept her question vague.
“You've been seen in his company, and most say you have his favor,” Gyles answered, his dark gaze sweeping over her body in qualifying, “I don't think it's hard to see why.”
Her skin crawled in response to his lecherous expression, and though she bore no love for the assassin questioning her, she was grateful when he cast a stern look in Gyles' direction, silently directing him to shut up.
Immediately, the short demon looked away, allowing the interrogation to continue uninterrupted.
“Tell me what you know of Arias, human. What incentive did he offer to spy on us, and what information did he require?”
Somehow, Kivsey had the distinct feeling that lying would work in her favor here, and not because she wanted to protect Arias, or even herself. Instead, her only incentive for spying was her desire to keep Gyles from causing anyone harm.
But if she fed these assassins such a line, they probably wouldn't believe her.
So she started by stating, “I don't know much about Arias honestly. I met him in Satorala, and he didn't ask me to spy.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “No, he blackmailed me by infecting a good friend with some alchemical illness and promising to cure him only if I kept a watch on Gyles for any signs of betrayal.”
She stated the lie as angrily as possible, which wasn't difficult when drawing from her anger o
ver Stephan's circumstances. But it was hard to say whether she'd been entirely convincing because the assassin's cold eyes took on a studious light, as if trying to decide whether or not she was telling the truth.
“Gyles, do you know anything about this?”
The short demon shook his head. “No, but it does sound like something Arias would do.”
As if unconvinced, the assassin pursed his lips in her direction, though he still suggested, “You must not be very fond of him, then.”
“Not at all.” Kivsey bit out the lie with feigned ire, then curiously inquired, “Why?”
Though the assassin parted his lips to respond, the next words spoken weren't his. Instead, another, deeper voice rang out from above, “Most likely, he wants to eliminate me, or knows someone interested in the prospect, and wants to use you to get close.”
In turn, everyone looked up to see Arias standing on one of the rope bridges connecting the various rock ledges above—and he wasn't alone. To his left stood a Perosian female Kivsey couldn't identify, but her regal headdress and affluent clothing suggested she was Empress Dalia.
Additional evidence of her identity came in the form of several armored imperial guards teleporting into The Hamlet to surround the assassins without warning.
And the Empress looked none too happy.
Conversely, Arias only seemed mildly disappointed, letting a soft sigh before relating, “You had one job, Gyles, which was simply to behave yourself. Alas, it seems all your begging for a chance at redemption was, in common parlance, a bunch of bullshit.”
Despite Kivsey's wish to be freed of the nameless' grasp, she couldn't help but find the unfolding situation amusing if only because of Gyles' reaction to Arias' comment.
Now staring up at the Ancient in a manner suggesting his pants had just grown a bit heavier, he sputtered the words, “No, it's not what—”
“Quiet!” Dalia commanded, her voice echoing through The Hamlet with authority, and she wasn't slow to take advantage of the silence that followed.
Cast Into Shadow Page 28
