She hoisted herself over the fountain’s edge, leaping into the rain-slicked cobblestone street. Caine followed—along with his raven, who cawed and flapped into the air.
Rosalind shivered, her drenched clothes clinging to her body.
Caine pushed his wet hair off his face, his black clothes melding to his muscled body like a second skin.
Rosalind’s teeth chattered. “Orcus said you didn’t need me to transport between worlds.”
“I don’t need you. But it requires an awful lot of energy without you.”
She squeezed some of the water from her shirt. “What about Tammi?”
“Oh—her. I’ll send someone for her when we get inside.”
“Good.” Shivering, she crossed her arms, walking alongside him. “I have some questions for you.”
“Of course you do. You’re a trained interrogator.”
“I just want to know why you locked me in the cemetery. Like you said, I’m the one who can sense Miranda’s magic. And she was just outside the ward you put up around me. I could have found her myself.”
He shot her an irritated look. “What are you talking about? I never locked you anywhere.”
She shook her head, still dizzy from the portal. “You locked me in the cemetery, with the ward.”
He narrowed his eyes, looking at her like she was insane.
He really doesn’t know what I’m talking about, does he? “One evening when Orcus and I awoke, a warding spell had been put up. I couldn’t get much further than the sphinx outside the mansion. Orcus said there was a note from you, with your seal and everything. And there was a sigil that had trapped me in.”
He stopped walking, fixing his glacial gaze on her. “And what did the note say?”
“It said you’d locked me in there for my own safety. Orcus wasn’t allowed to tamper with the spell.”
“You should probably be locked up for your own safety, but I didn’t do it. I need you to help me, and I’m pretty sure I’d never hear the end of your complaints about being imprisoned.”
“But the note said that you took Tammi—” Oh, gods. If he didn’t take Tammi… “You didn’t take Tammi to a safe house, did you?”
“Abduxiel Mansion was the safe house.”
“Shit.” Panic sank into her chest. “She hasn’t been there in weeks.” If anyone hurts her I will hunt them down and make them suffer.
“Who would bother abducting an ordinary, pedestrian human?”
“The Brotherhood would. They want her dead for escaping one of their prisons. And they want me dead. They could use her to lure me in.”
“That’s a fair point. They’ll use your loyalty against you. It’s an unfortunate vulnerability.”
She shot him a sharp look. “They probably want to stage a big PR coup and lure me into the light. But their entire reason for being is to stamp out the existence of magic. And whoever took Tammi put up a magical ward to keep me in the house. So basically, I have no idea who took her.”
“What about your little boyfriend Drew? I don’t trust him.”
“It could be…” She shook her head. “But he’s the one who gave me a clue to getting free from the ward. Find a sigil, he said. Is that right?”
“I suppose.”
“A lot of mages came to Abduxiel Mansion while I was there. Not just Drew. Orcus had me selling mushrooms, herbs, and potions the whole time.” Tammi had been kidnapped, and Rosalind felt like she wanted to throw up. “And I’m certain Miranda was there briefly. I felt her watery aura wash over my skin, tasted the salt of her magic. I have no idea what she was doing around the mansion. Her mind has been warped, as far as I can tell. She might have taken Tammi.” She took a long breath. “You didn’t have any luck finding my sister?”
“I’ve been searching for her, using scrying spells. But the images are clouded.”
Rosalind’s forehead wrinkled. “Like she’s shielded herself?”
“Either that, or she’s flitting between dimensions.”
Dread snaked up Rosalind’s spine. “Do you think she took Tammi to another dimension? Like Maremount?”
“Perhaps. But I’m not going back into that city unless it’s absolutely necessary, and I know exactly where I’m going.” Steel underscored his voice.
“Right. You’ve got a bit of a history there, with all the regicide.”
They approached the towering, arched portcullis, its silver bars gleaming like metal teeth. Menacing stone gargoyles leered above, and Rosalind was almost certain she saw one of them blink. No guards stood before the gates. A fortress this forbidding hardly needed extra fortification.
Tammi… Her throat tightened. If Miranda had taken her friend, there was no telling what she might do. Hard to predict the actions of a complete lunatic.
At the fortress’s entrance, Caine whispered a spell, and his magic rush over her skin. As the gate rose, it revealing a steep-peaked, blood-red hall. Bileth’s enormous painted image hung at one end. The high demon had tried to kill her more than once, and his image only reminded her that this was enemy territory.
Caine’s gaze slid to her. “Why, exactly, was Drew so certain I was behind the attacks?”
“He saw you there, and he thinks you’re a monster.” She hugged herself. Maybe Drew did have something to do with all this. She wasn’t ruling anything out, nor was she taking anything at face value anymore.
Caine’s footsteps echoed from the flagstones. “And who, exactly, is Drew?”
“Just a mage from Maremount, as far as I know.” She shot a glance at Caine’s perfect profile—his straight nose, strong jaw, icy eyes, and sharp black eyebrows. He certainly didn’t look like a monster. He looked too beautiful to be real.
In Drew’s opinion, Caine was only keeping Rosalind alive because he wanted to use her for something. But she just didn’t believe that. He had the ability to control her mind, and he’d never used it. That has to mean something, right?
As they neared the end of the hall, an imposing set of black doors opened. In a stream of silvery light, a woman stepped forward, descending down the stairs as the doors closed behind her.
Caine’s hand shot out, as if to block Rosalind. Obviously, this chick is bad news. Rosalind’s muscles tensed, fingers reaching for the gun in her pants—but it was gone. It must have been sucked out in her portal trip.
A lump rose in her throat as she stared at the overwhelmingly beautiful woman before her. She stood nearly six feet tall, her skin the color of desert sand. Powerful, ancient magic swirled from her—a dark, shimmering silver, just like Caine’s.
The woman’s midnight hair tumbled over a delicate pearly gown cut in a deep V down to her belly. Only her eyes were wrong. There was something about her deep, amber eyes that seemed unfocused, hungry—almost like she’d been drugged. And was it Rosalind’s imagination, or were there hints of other colors playing about the edges of her aura?
The woman flashed a brilliant, cold smile. “Welcome, Rosalind. My husband, Lord Ambrose, has sent me to greet you. I am Queen Erish.”
Demons are hierarchical. Play along, Rosalind. She bowed deeply. “Thank you for welcoming me here.”
“I’ll have a servant show you to your room.”
“I’m taking her to her room,” Caine cut in.
The queen’s nails dug into her own forearms, and her eyes flashed. “You’re the son of the shadow prince and the leader of an army. Showing a human girl to her room is a servant’s job,” she hissed.
“I said I’m taking her to her room,” he growled.
Rosalind frowned. What is going on with these two?
The queen prowled closer, heels clacking over the stones, and began to circle Rosalind, like she was inspecting a farm animal. The woman’s hair began to snake from her head, undulating in the air, and Rosalind’s blood turned to ice.
“This is her?” Erish said, her voice dripping with disdain. “One of the two girls who are supposed to defend Lilinor? I’d expected someone a little more…
epic. She looks like a drowned rabbit who hasn’t eaten in weeks.”
Rosalind opened her mouth to speak, but Caine cut her off with a flick of his hand. Oh right. The hierarchical thing.
“She’s been imprisoned in a cemetery and attacked by shadow demons,” Caine growled. “Speaking of which, you wouldn’t happen to know about an army of keres attacking Cambridge, would you?”
Erish’s eyes widened. “Honestly, Caine. As if I don’t have better things to do than meddle with keres. They are grotesque and traitorous creatures.” She turned, climbing the stairs, and the large black doors opened just wide enough to let her through. She cast a final glance back at Rosalind before disappearing. “I’m sure you’ll want to bathe, girl. You have that human stench.”
After watching humans being eaten by demons tonight, a little insult about bathing was hardly going to rile her up. Plus, the queen seemed slightly mad.
“Follow me,” Caine said. Instead of climbing the steps after Erish, he led Rosalind to a smaller oak door to the left and pushed it open to reveal a narrow, curving stairwell.
Rosalind’s mind churned with visions of Tammi bound to a chair in a dungeon, and she tried to push the images under the surface. She’d need to keep a level head if she wanted to figure everything out.
Dim candles lit the dark stairwell, and she traced her fingers over the damp stones as they climbed. “What did you see at the keres massacre? You were there before me. I felt your magic as I approached.”
“You could feel my magic before you even got there?”
“You’re extremely powerful.”
He turned, arching an eyebrow as if she’d said something filthy. “Am I now?”
She ignored him. “And I felt Miranda’s, too.”
Caine’s footsteps echoed around the hall. “I knew Miranda was there. It was the first time a scrying spell had worked, and I caught a glimpse of her in Harvard Square. But when I got there, the atmosphere rippled with magic. I can’t see it like you can, but I can feel the auras. I transformed and flew above the city. I saw the keres, and I was fairly certain Nyxobas hadn’t sent them.” Irritation laced his voice. “They shouldn’t have been there.”
“Orcus seemed perplexed, too.” She frowned. “But what made you certain Nyxobas hadn’t sent them?”
“He’s the god of shadows. He doesn’t like to draw attention to himself.”
“I see.” Her muscles burned as she climbed the steps. She rubbed her arms, her damp clothes chilling her to the bone.
At last, he stopped at a door, pushing it open into a long hall that seemed to stretch on forever. She crossed into the high-ceilinged hall. Moonlight shone through tall windows.
“I’ve secured this wing for you,” Caine said, walking quickly. “No vampires are allowed in, so you’ll be perfectly safe from all the monsters.” He arched an eyebrow. “Apart from me.”
“Thank you, Caine.” Her teeth chattered. That fountain had been pure ice, and the vamps weren’t big on heating in here. “Do you think Miranda would have given Tammi over to the Brotherhood? My sister seemed completely brainwashed. Although if she was working for the Brotherhood they wouldn’t have let her put up the ward. You know how they are about magic. All I know is, the Brotherhood have the motivation.”
“It’s true—they would use her to draw you out of the shadows.” Moonlight washed over his golden skin. “Tomorrow, when you’re rested, we’ll search for both of them with a powerful spell. But we must stay focused on our objective. Our first priority is retrieving your sister.” Caine’s silver magic whirled from him. “And, in the future, you’d be wise to limit your emotional attachments. The Brotherhood will prey on them. It gives them an advantage.”
“Right. Loyalty is a weakness.”
“It can be,” he said, looking straight ahead.
Drew’s family motto was Loyalty binds me. Apparently he was at odds with Caine on this issue, too.
Caine approached an oak door, stopping to turn the knob. He opened it into an enormous, dark-walled room. “This is where you’ll be staying.”
The room was beautiful, but strangely forbidding—not unlike Caine himself. A tapestry hung on one wall, depicting a beautiful vernal scene: a grove of trees and plants blooming. A canopied bed stood against a wall, opposite an expansive bay window draped with sage green curtains. A fire burned in the fireplace, and a stone table stood by its side, set with drinks and food. Across from the fireplace stood a tall, oak armoire.
Caine turned, letting his gaze slide over her. “You need to eat, and sleep. I need you at full strength.” He pointed to another door by the armoire. “There’s a warm bath already made up for you, and you’ll find clothes in the armoire. You should have everything you need. I’ll be back after you’ve rested.”
“And we can’t search for Tammi or Miranda until then?”
“The spell we need to use to search between dimensions will require a tremendous amount of energy from both of us. And you can’t perform any powerful magic until you’ve rested. I’ll admit, I kind of like the tired and drenched look on you. Your soaked clothes leave nothing to the imagination right now, and your eyes look like I’ve kept you up all night. On the other hand, they also tell me you won’t be particularly helpful when it comes to magic.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. He had a way of distracting her, but her mind resisted the idea of sleep. It would be even harder to turn off her brain now that she knew Tammi was in danger. “I’m not sure that I can sleep.”
“It’s about time you did something useful for once, and you need strength for that. Bathe. Eat. And sleep. In that order.”
She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. “You’re quite bossy in Lilinor.”
He took a step closer, his pale eyes rooting her in place. He moved with that strange, preternatural grace that always caught her off guard—the same way she was caught off guard when he seemed to stare at her without blinking, or when he sometimes fell completely still, forgetting to wear his mask of humanity. “It’s in my nature to order people around, and it’s in my history. I’ve been leading an army here for centuries.” He shifted closer, and she could feel the heat coming off his body, warming her through her clothes. “You’re alive now because you serve a purpose to that army.”
“Is that the only reason I’m alive?”
He closed the distance between them, resting his hands on the wall, boxing her in. He smelled amazing, and Rosalind’s eyes lingered over his perfect skin. “Are you asking if I could find another use for you?” He let his gaze roam over her body, leaving her with the distinct impression that he could see right through the pink lacy bra she was wearing under her T-shirt. “Because I can think of at least one.” His words were cold, but his tone was pure velvet.
Suddenly, her clothes felt much too restrictive, and she wanted to pull them off. Is he distracting me with his seductive spell? She stared into his glacial eyes, reflexively running her tongue over her raspberry lip gloss.
He watched her lick her lips, his chest rising slowly in a deep breath, and his aura whispered over her skin like a breeze. He inched closer, his lips hovering just inches from hers. His leg slid between her thighs, and his eyes blazed with intensity.
She wanted to run her hands all over his perfect body, but she swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus. “I want to know the answer. Why do you and Ambrose want me here? How are Miranda and I supposed to protect the city?”
He pulled away from her slightly, staring at her for so long she thought he wasn’t going to answer. At last, he said, “Daywalkers. You, Miranda, and I are going to turn Ambrose’s army into vampires who can walk in the light.”
“And that’s how you plan to fight the Brotherhood.” She shook her head. There it is. The purpose I serve to him. “Is that even possible?”
“It’s been done once before, or so Ambrose tells me. King Cranaus of Athens, with three powerful mages. Just like us.”
His aura slid over her skin, distracting
her. She was still fighting the urge to pull him close, to feel his body against hers. “If you didn’t need me for this daywalker spell, would you have come for me after the ker massacre?” Would you have pulled me from the house before it was bombed?
The air around them cooled. “I’m not going to engage in pointless hypothetical questions.”
Her fingers tightened. Who exactly are you, Caine Mountfort? “How about a factual question? What did Erish mean when she said you were the son of the shadow prince?”
He backed away, taking his delicious aura with him. “Unless you need help bathing, I’m going to be on my way.”
She exhaled slowly, watching him walk away. “I’ll manage fine, I think.”
Standing in the doorframe, he turned. “I’m sure I don’t need to explain to you what could happen if you leave this corridor.”
“Death by vampires.” She nodded. “I know.”
He closed the door behind him, and she pulled off her boots, then walked over to the fireplace. Thick, thorny hawthorn boughs hung over the hearth, blossoming with red berries and white flowers. She ran her fingers along the petals. Hawthorn blossoms. He must have told the servants I love them.
Her muscles burned, and she wanted out of these frigid clothes. Shivering, she tried not to think about what Tammi might be enduring.
She did need sleep, and she wouldn’t get that by dwelling on her worst fears.
She lifted up her soaked shirt, pulling it off while she crossed to the bathroom—an octagonal room with a silver clawfoot tub in the center. Thin curls of steam rose from the water. Sharp-peaked windows overlooked a stony courtyard, and candles guttered in sconces. She let her shirt fall to the stone floor.
Maybe Miranda was drawing her into a trap, for her own deranged reasons. She pulled off her soaked pants, which stuck to her legs as she rolled them down her calves. She’d sensed Miranda in two places—near Abduxiel Mansion before the ward went up, and at the massacre tonight.
She unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Goosebumps rose over her skin as she pulled off her underwear. Is my own twin a complete monster?
She dipped her foot into the hot water, letting it turn her skin pink. The bath smelled of lavender and mint.
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