Cimmerian Shade: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance & Urban Fantasy Collection

by Kiki Howell

  “That doesn’t look good,” Kirsten said from behind him, her voice apologetic.

  Jacob glanced back at her. She was still wearing his jacket, and it reminded him of when she’d first worn his clothes. When they’d first met, first held hands, first kissed, first—

  He shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he get a grip on himself?

  “No, it doesn’t,” he replied gruffly. “Pretty sure it’s infected.”

  She stepped closer, until she was close enough to touch the very tip of her index finger half an inch away from the edge of the cut. When Jacob shivered, she snatched her hand back.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just—”

  “It’s fine,” Jacob murmured, and kept it at that rather than admit it was her touch that had sent a jolt down his spine, not pain.

  “I could try a healing spell,” she offered. “I’m not sure it’ll work on an infection but it’s worth a try, I think. I should have done it last night. I’m sorry. With everything, I even forgot you were hurt. It’s my fault it got this bad.”

  “No, it’s my fault for not saying anything.”

  The truth was, she’d looked tired, and he was used to his body healing up without help, so he hadn’t brought it up again.

  “But go ahead, do whatever you think can help.”

  She started to turn back toward her bag of magic tricks, but stilled and met his gaze again.

  “I’m sorry. About earlier, I mean. It was uncalled for.”

  “It’s fine,” Jacob said again. “You’re stressed, I get it.”

  She observed him for a second or two, biting on her lower lip. She used to do that when she was thinking. It had always caused Jacob to want to replace her teeth with his own on that plump, delicious lip.

  Whatever she’d been about to say, she kept it to herself and walked away. Jacob remained where he was, looking back at the lake. Twice more he splashed water onto the wound, trying to cool it down. When, behind him, Kirsten announced that she was ready, he pushed himself to his feet to join her.

  But instead of standing, he ended up on his knees, a hand pressed to the ground, his head feeling so light it might just detach from his shoulders and rise up into the warm air like a balloon. His ears were buzzing so loudly that he barely heard Kirsten call out his name.

  KIRSTEN SHOOK THE GLASS vial, keeping her thumb firmly pressed to the opening. The helebor powder dissolved into the oil, while the gray lavender flowers floated through the vial. As spells went, this one was quick and simple to prepare; the execution, on the other hand, was altogether trickier, and Kirsten only knew one other person who could make it work. It had been one of the first spells Julie had taught her when she wanted to check how strong a mage Kirsten might become.

  “All right, I’m ready,” she said. “Do you want to come closer?”

  She looked up just in time to see Jacob rise... and promptly collapse to his knees. Her heart jumped inside her chest, fear seizing her and making it hard to breathe.

  “Jacob!”

  Abandoning the vial on the ground, she scrambled to her feet and rushed to him. He looked up at her, but his eyes were unfocused. His face was scarlet. He’d had more color in his cheeks than she was used to all morning, but she’d thought it was a trick of the odd sun gliding in the sky, or maybe that he was angry she had failed to return them home.

  Now, as she rested a hand against his burning forehead, she realized he must have had a fever all that time. She couldn’t remember him ever being sick before. Was it the cut? Had the infection spread that fast? Shouldn’t it have taken more time than that to affect him that much? Was it because they were in a different world, with different bacteria, maybe? Or—

  She tried to calm her mind. She wouldn’t get any answers, and all these questions were only diluting her focus.

  “Don’t stand up,” she said as he tried again to get to his feet. She rested a hand on his right shoulder, keeping well away from the wound on his left arm. The strength she was used to feeling under her fingers was gone. Pulling her hand back, she swallowed hard and tried to get a grip on her fear. Being afraid wouldn’t help anything now. After she helped him—after she made him better—there would be all the time in the world to be terrified.

  She shrugged out of his jacket and folded it into a pillow. She set that on the ground, tapping it with her fingers.

  “Here. Lie down until you feel better.” Clutching his arm, she helped him turn over and recline. “There you go. Are you in pain?”

  He blinked repeatedly, his mouth working a few times soundlessly before he said, “Kirsten? I’m not... not feeling so good.”

  “Yeah, I see that, sweetie. Give me a second, I’ll make you all better.”

  Only when he smiled did she realize what she’d called him. How fast old habits sometimes resurfaced...

  She hurried back to where she’d dropped the vial, bringing it to Jacob along with bandages from her bag.

  “I’m gonna have to touch the cut. I’m sorry, it’s going to hurt.”

  Jacob didn’t reply, although he gave a tiny nod. His eyes, their green cloudy enough to look almost gray, never left her as she used her fingers to spread the oil mixture over his wound. Her hands were shaking, but once she started reciting the spell and imbuing the oil with every last bit of magical strength she possessed, her fears started to abate. Jacob would be fine. She refused the possibility of him being anything other than fine.

  His eyes were closed by the time she finished; his cheeks, already, didn’t seem so red anymore. She rested her fingers against his forehead to check his temperature. Her hand lingered much longer than was strictly necessary.

  SEEING JACOB WALK DOWN the staircase, Andrew was glad his heart didn’t beat. If it had, surely it would have stopped.

  “What happened?” Andrew blurted out, while Nicholas said, “You scared the hell out of us,” and at the same time Jacob said, “Not so loud, you’re gonna wake Kirsten.”

  As his son came down the last few steps, Andrew’s eyes swept over him, looking for the wound inflicted by the demon sword. He didn’t find it. What he found instead was that Jacob seemed to have lost weight in the past few hours. And he’d tanned—in the middle of the night. And... was his hair longer? Or maybe it only seemed longer because it was wet. Jacob had apparently taken a shower and changed clothes. How long had he been home? Why was Kirsten sleeping there for that matter?

  “What happened?” Andrew said again, and was startled when Jacob threw his arms around him for a brief but tight hug.

  Before Andrew could react and hug him back, Jacob had pulled away and was offering the same greeting to Nicholas.

  “God, I missed you guys,” he said, pulling back and smiling at the two of them. “I’ve got so much to tell you.”

  Despite the smile, there was something in his eyes, a darkness that spoke of pain, or grief. Andrew exchanged a quick look with Nicholas, assuring himself that Nicholas was just as confused as Andrew himself felt.

  “We missed you too, kiddo,” Nicholas said. “Longest three hours of our lives.”

  Jacob’s smile vanished, replaced by a frown. “Three hours? Huh?”

  At that moment, Nicholas’ phone rang. He picked up the call without taking his eyes off Jacob.

  “Yeah, we’re home,” he said, presumably talking to Julie. “Jacob’s here.” A pause, and then, “He looks okay. Haven’t had time to talk yet. How about I call you back when it’s a decent hour for you?”

  After a word of goodbye, he put the phone away.

  “What day is this?” Jacob asked.

  “What do you mean, what day?” Andrew said. “It’s Saturday. Well, Sunday, by now, I suppose. It’s gotta be past midnight.”

  “I mean, the full date.”

  Andrew and Nicholas shared another look. What was wrong with Jacob?

  “It’s the fifteenth,” Nicholas said. “Or sixteenth if it’s Sunday. What’s up, kiddo? Bumped your h
ead? Why did you leave your car in the woods? How did you come back?”

  Jacob’s eyes widened. He passed a hand through his damp hair.

  “So... it’s the same day we left?”

  “What do you mean, left? Where did you go?”

  Jacob gestured to the seating area. “How about we sit down and I tell you how Kirsten and I just spent a week in the demons’ world?”

  Andrew’s legs suddenly turned to lead, and it was all he could do not to collapse before they’d sat down.

  Chapter Seventeen

  JACOB’S HEAD FELT like it was floating in an ocean of clouds. Everything was soft, muted, a little unreal.

  Everything except for the fire consuming his arm.

  With a groan, he tore at the clouds, pushed them away until his vision cleared, until he could see the sky above him, caught between blue and steel-gray, without the hint of a cloud anywhere.

  He tried to sit up, but a hand pressed into the center of his chest and held him down. For a half-second, he thought it might be one of his dads; no one else could hold him that easily. But when he looked down at that hand, the thin, elegant fingers were familiar, even if the nails weren’t quite as polished and neat as they usually were. How weak was he that Kirsten could keep him in place with just one hand?

  He blinked a few times, and tried to focus on her face. Her expression was set on the one that, in the privacy of his own mind, he called her ‘serious face.’ She was at his side, sitting—no, kneeling next to his bed. No, that wasn’t right. He wasn’t in his bed. He wasn’t home. But oh, how he wished he was...

  Her eyes were focused on his arm, and her free hand was hovering above the cut, though not touching it. If she wasn’t touching it, though, why did it feel so hot?

  “Hush,” she said, and only then did Jacob realize he’d spoken aloud. “I’m almost done.”

  He wasn’t trying to move anymore, but her hand remained in the center of his chest. Her warmth seeped through his tee-shirt, still familiar even after all these years. His mind still not quite back to the real world, he didn’t realize he’d raised his good arm to lay his hand on top of hers. He closed his eyes again and drifted back to the clouds.

  When he woke again, a cool hand was cradling his cheek. He opened his eyes, pushing at eyelids that each weighed a ton or more. The sky above him was dark, a few stars already lit. None shone as brightly as Kirsten’s smile when she saw he was awake.

  “Hey, there you are, sweetie. No, don’t try to talk, just drink. That’s it. Just a little more.”

  The water was cool and soothing, and Jacob was thirsty enough to drink up the lake. It was too soon that Kirsten took the metal tumbler away.

  “How about some food?” she murmured. “There’s a bit of that egg thing left. Do you want to try to eat?”

  Jacob blinked his assent. He was famished. The egg tasted bland. Kirsten fed small pieces to him from her fingertips before offering him more water. When she passed a hand through his hair, he tried to smile, tried to thank her, but his eyes were closing and there was nothing he could do to stop himself from drifting away again.

  He woke once more to the sound of his name being repeated by Kirsten’s quiet but urgent voice.

  “Huh? Wha...”

  He sat up, fully awake in no more time than it took him to blink. Kirsten was at his side, although on his left, when the last time he’d awakened she’d been on the right. The sky was much lighter, the air still cool with the new dawn. And the cause of Kirsten’s alarm was all too apparent.

  His two little friends had returned.

  And they’d brought company.

  Taleeh and Gertruh were small by demon standards, only four and maybe five feet and half, but they had thick, strong bodies. The demon standing next to them, on the other hand, was as tall as any Jacob had ever fought, somewhere around nine feet. It wore the same kind of rudimentary clothing Jacob was familiar with, including the crude embroidered patch on its shoulder. The pattern of bony spikes on its body was different from the other two’s, but at the same time it seemed vaguely similar; was it a family trait, maybe? Was he Taleeh and Gertruh’s dad, or maybe their older brother?

  Jacob had never thought of a demon as a ‘he’ before. He’d never seen an unharmed demon either. There was a first time for everything.

  His tongue felt too big for his mouth, but he thought he said the word of greeting the kids had taught him competently enough.

  “Lersuhn.”

  The demon, as far as he could be said to have an expression, looked startled. He glanced at the two smaller ones, and the three of them chattered rapidly for a few seconds. Jacob tried to follow the exchange, but his vocabulary in the demon language counted only a few words and he didn’t recognize anything they said.

  “What’s going on?” Kirsten whispered close to his ear. Her hand settled on his shoulder, the touch ever so light, and yet strong enough that he could tell she was shaking.

  Jacob looked at her, but quickly turned his attention back to the demons. He didn’t dare take his focus off them for too long. They weren’t armed, but then, neither was he. He could see his sword a few feet away, next to the fire. He didn’t want to fight if he could avoid it, but he’d nonetheless have felt better if the sword had been within his reach. He rested his hand on top of Kirsten’s, trying to reassure her with that simple touch.

  “Not sure,” he murmured back. “How long were they here before I woke up?”

  “Just a few seconds. I woke you up as soon as I noticed them. How do you feel?”

  Only when she asked did he remember his wound. His arm didn’t hurt anymore. He was tired, thirsty, and hungry enough to feel weak, but other than that he felt all right.

  “Better, I...”

  He lost his words when the demon spoke, louder now. And said Jacob’s name.

  “JACOB. FA-I-TERR?”

  Every thought that had been tumbling through Kirsten’s mind, every ounce of tiredness that had been weakening her body, all of it was obliterated by those two words. She’d been waiting for almost a full day for Jacob to wake up completely, scared out of her mind that the infection had spread too far for her magic to heal him. That fear was nothing compared to what she felt now.

  The demon was speaking to them. It pointed at Jacob’s sword, laid out on the ground next to the fire where Kirsten had used it to cut some kindling into smaller pieces, and at the same time it repeated that second word. And Kirsten realized she knew what it meant. It was speaking English.

  It was asking Jacob if he was a fighter; if he would fight—kill—demons.

  Jacob squeezed her hand once before letting go and raising both hands, palms out, toward the demon.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said in a slow, cool voice. “I’m not here to hurt anyone. Ask Gertruh. Ask Taleeh. I didn’t hurt them.”

  Did the demon understand? Did it know enough English to understand? Did it even care what Jacob said, or had it been an accusation before it attacked and tore them both apart with its bare hands and—

  “Calm down,” Jacob murmured. “Kirsten, please. You’re starting to hyperventilate. Your heart is beating too fast. Please, calm down.”

  Her heart... Jacob could hear her heart. No, not just Jacob. The demons could hear it too. Their hearing was as good as a vampire’s, like Jacob’s. They could hear how scared she was. They would probably smell it, too. There was no place for her to hide. No place to run. She was in their world, she couldn’t escape, she couldn’t even breathe!

  Jacob’s face filled her vision, blocking her line of sight so that she couldn’t see the three demons anymore. She looked into green eyes, and she remembered all the times she’d seen those beautiful eyes from this close before, all the times she’d felt Jacob’s hands cupping her cheeks ever so gently, like now. All the times his lips had caressed hers.

  But those lips weren’t touching her now. Instead, they said her name again, repeated that plea for her to calm down and breathe. Claspin
g Jacob’s wrists, holding on to him for sheer life, she forced her breathing to slow down until the little black flecks that were obscuring her vision started to disappear.

  “Better?”

  Talking was beyond her. She gave him a jerky nod.

  “I’m going to turn back to that thing, now,” he continued, still as quietly. “I don’t like having my back toward him. But you don’t have to look at him, okay? I swear, I won’t let anything happen to you. Just... focus on your breathing. Keep calm. Can you do that for me, love?”

  She nodded again and released her grip on his wrists. His thumbs brushed against each of her cheeks, then he let go of her. Before turning away, he smiled at her. At this moment, she realized what he’d just called her, the old term of affection rolling off his tongue as easily as though they’d still been teens.

  She realized what she’d been too blind to see until now; too convinced that leaving him had been for the best; too certain he’d moved on and only wanted to be her ‘friend.’

  She realized he still loved her every bit as much as she still loved him.

  ANDREW LOOKED READY to faint. Nicholas didn’t feel so steady, either. He knew the perfect cure for that. Rather than sit down with Jacob and Andrew, he opened the liquor cabinet and pulled out two glasses. After a glance back at Jacob—there was a tightness around his eyes that didn’t use to be there—he added a third glass. He poured generously in all three, and took his first sip before handing out the other two glasses to Andrew and Jacob.

  He expected Andrew to mutter some protest about Nicholas giving alcohol to their son, even though Jacob was well over the legal age. It had to be a measure of how troubled Andrew was that all he did was offer a nod of thanks as he wet his lips. Nicholas sat next to him on the sofa, and the two of them considered Jacob. He still hadn’t said another word about that trip of his. He clutched the glass Nicholas had given him in both hands, and was peering in as though looking for answers in the amber liquid.