by Meg Anne
“Now?” Effie whispered as the buzzing became so relentless she felt like something was actually crawling beneath her skin.
Khouman was saved from answering by a wet snarl. He turned his face to the cavern below.
“See for yourself,” he said, his voice broken.
There was another snarl. It seemed to be emanating from a dark corner the torches didn’t reach. Squinting, Effie stared into the darkness as the sound of her racing heart filled her ears.
A long, low growl began to reverberate off the walls, followed by two shuffling steps. Far below them one of the Caederans twisted her face up to the light and let out a shriek of rage.
Effie couldn’t stop the horrified gasp that left her lips.
Mother no. Not Tinka.
Chapter 8
There was little left of the woman Effie remembered in the pale creature stumbling out of the darkness. Tinka’s lustrous black curls hung in dirty clumps around a gaunt face. If not for the familiar bells dangling limply from a few tangled patches, or the distinctive necklace hanging from her neck, Tinka would have been unrecognizable.
All of her feminine curves were gone, as if her body had consumed itself and only left behind a sack of skin to hang off the frame of her bones. She might have even been mistaken for a child, except that her head was too large for the otherwise tiny body. Even so, she would have still looked almost human, if not for the slithering black lines in her eyes.
Tinka was turning into a Shadow.
Effie shuddered.
“You said there were survivors?” Ronan asked, turning away from the shrieking woman. “Do they know what caused this?”
“There were,” Khouman replied, any remaining life within him extinguished after confronting what was left of his wife.
“H-how?” Effie asked, tearing her gaze away from the creature below and back to their guide.
Khouman took a deep breath. It was like watching a man try and will himself back together. Her heart broke for him. It must be the worst kind of torture having to witness the woman he loved turn into that thing and be completely helpless to stop it.
“One of our scouting parties, a group of about ten, returned a few weeks ago. They mentioned fighting off a group of Shadows near the Eastern border, and that they sustained injuries, but nothing their assigned healer couldn’t handle. I never thought . . .”
“How many are left?” Ronan asked.
“Just T—just her.”
“What happened to the others?” Reyna asked.
“They turned on each other.”
Ronan rested a large hand on Khouman’s shoulder. “Perhaps you should start at the beginning.”
Nodding, Khouman stared down at a spot on the floor. “Caederan is a peaceful realm, but we’ve always had scouts. It’s how we tracked the movements of the packs that live nearby and make sure that none of our caves get breached by them. Once the war started, we increased the size of our scouting parties, and focused more on our borders than the caves.”
Khouman sighed, looking so worn down that a gust of wind could knock him over. “Each group would go out for about a week before returning and sending the next group. We all take turns, you see, to share the burden of being away from home. Well, the group returned like usual and they seemed fine, until . . .”
When Khouman didn’t resume his retelling, Lucian stepped forward. “Until?”
Blinking a few times, Khouman refocused. “Until the fighting started. First, it was just Jinx and Cal. Those two were little better than drunks on a good day. Always rough ‘round the edges. No one thought anything of them acting up. But then Laurel and Wylmar started up. They’re married, see, and have been going through a bit of a rough patch. Wyl never lifted a hand against her, but they fought ugly more often than not. A couple days after they came home, Wyl came barreling out of their house, a dagger hanging out of his thigh. He was completely crazed, practically foaming at the mouth. When we could calm him down enough to ask what happened, we learned that Laurel stabbed him for asking when dinner would be ready. The only thing that kept him from slitting her throat was he couldn’t get the blade free before she ran off.” Khouman looked at each of them, his bafflement evident in his wide-eyed stare.
“What about the others?” Ronan asked, his stance stiff, as if he already knew what was coming.
Khouman shrugged. “More of the same. As the days went by, it was clear no one from the party were themselves. The first couple of incidents were odd in a way, but not completely out of character. But once the others started up it was obvious something more than just a Shadow attack must have happened out there. By then, it was too late to question any of them. One by one, they changed before our eyes. All of them turned—even old Marge, the healer.”
Khouman sucked in a breath, his voice thick with emotion. “Tink was the last to turn. Tink is—was—such an amazing woman. Strong and kind. Would never hurt a fly unless it was to save someone. When she returned to me, I thanked the Mother for keeping her safe, but then I started to notice the changes in her, too. A savagery so out of place with her gentle heart. And not just her . . .” he said, his voice growing stronger. “It was the same with all of them. Small things at first. Surges of temper out of place for the situation. A new proclivity toward violence.”
Effie scratched at her arms, the incessant buzzing growing more uncomfortable as Khouman spoke.
Lucian shot her a look, his frown deepening as he noticed her fingers raking over her skin.
The small man looked so lost. Like he couldn’t believe what he’d seen. The terror of it still held him firmly in its clutches.
“After Marge attacked Kevlyn, we knew we couldn’t risk keeping them in town with us anymore,” he said.
“Kevlyn?” Ronan asked. “Another party member?”
“Her grandson,” Khouman replied.
The story was bad enough already, but for the woman to harm her own grandchild . . . Effie wasn’t sure she needed to hear the rest.
“Once that happened, we knew that we couldn’t risk harm coming to the rest of our children, you see?” Khouman said as if begging for their understanding, or perhaps it was their forgiveness.
“Of course not,” Effie murmured.
His dark eyes met hers, anguish on full display. “We brought them here.”
Effie tried to keep her face from showing the horror she felt at the admission. The verdict wasn’t just exile; it was death.
“Did the vines . . .” Reyna started to ask, glancing over her shoulder.
Khouman shook his head. “No. The vines didn’t attack them like we expected. They walked freely.”
“Come again?” Kieran said, pushing off the wall he’d been leaning against.
Khouman shrugged. “We were just as confused by it as you. After weeks of destroying every poor soul that went down there, the damn things didn’t so much as wriggle once.”
Lucian’s eyes were burning bronze as he unleashed his power and turned to look down into the pit.
“Lucian?” she asked.
“They’re the same,” he said, not facing their group.
“What do you mean?” Khouman demanded.
“At their core. Whatever corruption has tainted them is the same. It’s why what was left of your scouting party moved freely. The vines recognize them.”
When Lucian faced them again, his eyes were dark umber once more.
“That’s to be expected,” Kael said, his hand running over his face. “But it doesn’t help us get any closer to finding the source.”
“No,” Lucian agreed. “Not without survivors to tell us what happened.”
“So whatever is harming the land, it can harm us too?” Ronan clarified.
Lucian nodded. “Seems that way.”
“Has the corruption spread outside of this cave?” Kael asked.
“Not as far as we can tell. It seems confined, at least for now,” Khouman answered.
Effie frowned. They were missing somethi
ng. The buzzing that hadn’t dulled since entering the cavern transformed, turning into a familiar tingle that worked its way up the back of her neck.
A startled gasp left her as Effie’s vision took hold.
The last thing she saw was Lucian lunge toward her as she started to fall.
In every direction the world was black. Wind raged around her, causing her hair to whip her face. Each new lash broke the skin, leaving trails of sticky blood in its wake.
The world tilted, and she started to fall back as the sense of weightlessness took over. Her mouth opened in a scream that was lost to the wind; her arms windmilled and her legs kicked into the nothingness.
Pain exploded through her body as she crashed into a wall of glass. Thousands of tiny shards flew up, filling the emptiness above her with fragmented reflections of herself. Instead of mirroring her reality, each bloody shard revealed something more terrifying than the last.
In the first, Effie was screaming, her body curled in on itself as her nails tore through her skin.
Another had Effie rocking back and forth staring vacantly into the air.
Then there was one where she was laughing manically as she ripped out a man’s throat with her teeth.
It wasn’t until she saw the image of her broken and tortured corpse that Effie slammed her eyes closed. As she did, the shards rained down upon her, feeling like daggers as they sliced open more of her skin.
Blood began to pour from her ruined body until she was drowning in the now familiar sea of blood.
She tried to open her eyes, knowing that she wouldn’t be alone here, but she was blind.
Drowning, surrounded in darkness, Effie could only scream when the monsters came for her. There was no knowing how many there were, but it felt like dozens of hands moved over her, twisting and pulling until she was torn apart.
When they were done, there was nothing left of her but the sounds of her screams.
Chapter 9
Lucian’s heart stopped as he watched Effie’s body teeter backward. He hadn’t realized she’d been standing so close to the edge.
Time froze, the ripple of Effie’s cloak the only movement for one fractured moment as her eyes met his. There was no trace of fear there, she had no clue how much danger she was in.
Springing forward, Lucian roared her name, his fingers outstretched as he grasped for her.
Her limbs spasmed, the vision fully taking control as she started to fall.
Panic he hadn’t felt since he was a child took hold. He wasn’t going to reach her in time.
Time had slowed to a crawl, each second stretching out until it felt like an hour. He could see everything as it was happening, but he was helpless to stop it.
Lucian’s fingers skimmed the air where she’d been standing, mere inches away from her body as it continued to fall. Her feet were barely touching the edge, the heels of her boots sliding backward off of it.
Already the vines were coming to life, the scrape of their stalks moving against each other as they unfurled, ready for their next meal.
No. They couldn’t have her.
With another savage bellow, Lucian took a lurching step, stretching his arm until he felt the burn of muscles tearing. When his fingers grazed the supple leather of her chest piece, he could have wept with relief.
The cool metal of one of the garment’s buckles slid against his skin, and Lucian closed his fist, holding onto the strip of leather with everything in him.
His relief was short-lived as his momentum continued to propel him forward. Eyes flaring wide, he tried to counter the motion by pulling Effie back, using her slight weight to slow his movement.
It wasn’t enough.
He continued forward, his stomach rolling as his feet skidded along the ground.
Almost as one, two hands wrapped around him, their grasp stronger than iron. One around his free arm, the other on his shoulder.
“Not so fast, Brother,” Kael said.
Lucian came to a grinding halt, Effie half-suspended over the ledge, held up only by the fist wrapped around her buckle.
“Mother’s tits,” Ronan swore as he and Kael pulled Lucian farther back from the edge.
Lucian barely heard the other’s frantic voices as they crowded around him. Their words were drowned out, their presence entirely forgotten as he dropped to his knees. The only thing that existed for him right now was her. That he’d come so close to losing her.
Pressing his back against the wall of the cave, he cocooned Effie’s much smaller body in his.
It had been close. Too close.
Adrenaline caused his body to shake as he wrapped his arms around her.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered against the cool skin of her forehead. He hoped wherever Effie was, she could hear him. That she would come back to him.
He wouldn’t feel quite human again until he could see her eyes twinkling with impudent laughter. Or see one of her smirking grins as she called him a bossy asshole.
Anything to affirm he hadn’t lost her.
Lucian’s heart continued to slam against his chest as he held onto her. The whole thing happened in under a minute, but Lucian was still breathing hard. Each ragged breath coming out in a harsh pant.
Taking a deep breath, he watched as tremors continued to rack Effie’s limbs, her vision unaffected by her brush with death.
It was another full minute before she grew still, her eyes slowly opening.
“Lucian?” she asked, her voice faint. “How did you get over here so fast?”
A shudder tore through him. He almost hadn’t been fast enough. All he could see was her, the delicate pulse fluttering in her neck, the bright blue eyes blinking up at him, the soft pink flush returning to her cheeks.
He’d almost lost her.
With a low groan, Lucian dropped his lips to hers in a desperate kiss. He cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand, his fingers splaying in her soft curls as he pulled her closer.
Effie’s breath washed over him before she was kissing him back, her body arching into his. Each press of her lips against his was just as frantic.
It wasn’t enough.
Needing more, Lucian changed his angle. He slid his tongue along the seam of her lips, taking the bottom one between his teeth and biting down before gently sucking on it.
Her lips parted on a wordless gasp, and he slid his tongue against hers, needing to taste her. Lucian’s heart continued to race, his need driving him as their tongues tangled together.
It still wasn’t enough. Lucian feared nothing would be.
She was inside him now, laying claim to part of him he’d never given to anyone else.
Never had a simple kiss affected him like this. Effie was sweeter than honey, more intoxicating than Daejaran wine. He’d never tire of tasting her.
His hand moved over her cheek, sliding down the side of her neck to rest on the exposed skin just below her throat. Her heart was beating hard beneath his palm, and Lucian would have moved it lower, continuing his exploration of her tempting body . . . if not for the distant sound of someone clearing their throat.
Remembering they weren’t alone, Lucian tore his lips away. His was still shaking when he pressed his forehead to hers, although this time perhaps not from fear.
Her eyes were dazed when they met his, her cheeks flushed. “What was that for?”
Brushing his thumb over her lips, Lucian’s voice was rough when he replied, “Don’t ever do that again.”
“Have a vision?” she asked. “I can’t exactly control those.”
His arms tightened around her without conscious thought as he shook his head. “No, almost die.”
“Oh,” Effie said, swallowing.
Her vision was momentarily forgotten as she studied her Guardian. He looked wild, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths and his eyes equal parts bronze and umber. She could tell he wasn’t totally back in control. Whatever had happened while she was under had terrified him. It clearly wasn’t
a feeling he was used to.
“You almost fell off the edge,” he told her.
“But you caught me,” she said, resting her hand against his cheek, sensing that he needed the reminder.
“Barely,” he whispered, the confession guttural.
And there it was. Lucian wasn’t used to coming anywhere close to what he considered failure. It had cost him something, those moments of uncertainty. No wonder he looked like he was on the brink.
“I’m right here; I’m safe,” she promised.
Closing his eyes, Lucian took a deep breath before relaxing his hold on her.
If not for the shuffling of the others beside them, Effie might have stayed put awhile longer. Coming to in Lucian’s arms—his worried eyes raking over her face—wasn’t something she’d ever forget. It took more effort than it should to force herself to stand and move away from him.
He moved with her, holding his hand out to help her rise. She had to fight back a smile when he didn’t let her go.
Her Guardian wasn’t quite okay just yet. Effie wasn’t about to complain. Holding his hand did just as much to soothe her as it comforted him.
“Are you alright?” Ronan asked, once they were both upright and facing their small group.
Licking her lips, eyes darting to Lucian a final time, she nodded. “Yes.”
“Gave us quite a scare, little warrior,” Kael said, his dark skin ashen.
“I’m sorry, I seem to be doing that a lot lately. I wasn’t expecting a vision to be triggered.”
“Of course you weren’t,” Ronan said, shooting Kael a censorious glance.
“I should have warned you to stand back from the edge,” Khouman said, the small man looking a bit shell-shocked.
“Never seen a Keeper in the throes of a vision?” she asked, offering him a small smile.
He shook his head, the small bells in his beard tinkling.
“What did you See?” Ronan asked.
Ice danced down her spine at the memory of her vision, cooling some of the fire Lucian’s kiss had set off inside of her. This vision felt different from the others; darker somehow. Her Guardian insisted that Keepers never had visions about themselves, but Effie couldn’t shake the feeling that this one was personal.
