The Beyond (A Devil's Isle Novel)

by Chloe Neill

  Rachel looked without touching, blew out a breath, then looked back at Malachi. “Straight out, or do I need to twist?”

  “Straight out,” he said, teeth gritted. “Do it now.”

  She didn’t hesitate, but gripped the edge of the feather, her own muscles bunched, and pulled.

  His scream was otherworldly, a multilayered sound that rang through my bones like I was standing beneath a bell. Ibises rose and lifted from nearby fields, startled by the sound, and the advancing Paras stopped in their tracks.

  His fists were knotted, his chest heaving, his eyes closed as he battled the pain. After a moment, his breathing slowed, and he opened his eyes, turned his gaze to her. The heat in the look could have melted metal. “Thank you.”

  She just nodded, seemed a little shocked by his reaction.

  “I hate to interrupt this rom-com in the making,” Gavin said, “but are we ready to move this vehicle? Because we have a lot of company on the way.”

  We looked back. They were advancing from all sides now, a semicircle of Paranormals with weapons drawn and ready. If Malachi’s scream had given them any pause, they’d worked through it now.

  Malachi moved to the edge of the vehicle, extended his wings, stretched them. That halted them for a moment, but they regained their courage quickly enough.

  “Malachi, you’re on the right,” Rachel said. “I’ve got the left.” She looked back at me. “You ready?”

  I nodded, blew out a breath, looked at Liam.

  “When you’re ready,” he said, holstering his weapon and taking a position beside me. “You start the song and I’ll join in.”

  I turned to the vehicle, extended my arm, and began to unspool Elysium’s wild magic.

  It was potent, but thorny. Hard to control. Hard to direct. I clenched my fingers to force the threads of magic into every nook and cranny of the vehicle, filling it until the magic made it buoyant. Or at least that was the theory.

  I bore down, and I pushed.

  And nothing happened.

  It was heavier than I thought it would be. It clung to the earth like a grasping child, refusing to let go. I knew it was only a matter of mass and gravity, but I didn’t care about physical laws. I cared about magic—and getting this goddamn vehicle off the ground.

  “I saw the turn signal,” Gavin said, then fired twice. “So that’s great. Just, you know, add in the rest now, Claire.”

  Liam swore in Cajun, poured more magic into mine, amplifying the power I’d wrapped around it. Our magic danced together, melded, became stronger for the union.

  That seemed to be a common theme today.

  Metal creaked and groaned, shook, and then hovered, bobbing in the air, lifted by the force of our magic.

  “Truck’s up,” Rachel said. “Gavin, keep an eye on the rear.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Gavin said, and shots fired behind me as we began to move forward.

  Each step was a marathon. The ground was uneven, and I had to plant my feet to keep the vehicle aloft, had to use my strength, my magic, and Liam’s to keep it in the air. Telekinesis fought against gravity, against friction—and gravity fought back like a living thing.

  I bore down, poured all my focus into the truck. Five yards, then ten, then twenty. And then we were close enough to the border that the trees on the other side, the landscape of the Beyond, grew clearer, my head swimming from the open conduit of magic I needed to keep the Humvee in the air and moving forward.

  “Ten yards,” Rachel called out. “You’re almost there, guys. You’re doing great.”

  “Incoming,” Gavin said, and something shook the ground a few feet behind us, sparks snapping in the air.

  “What the fuck was that?” Liam asked, teeth clenched.

  “Peskies now have grenades,” Gavin said.

  “Peskies,” I murmured darkly, “are the bane of my existence.”

  “Along with that heavy-ass truck?” Gavin asked, metal snicking as he reloaded.

  I bit back a smile. I didn’t want to lose focus. Not this close. “Along with this heavy-ass truck.”

  One foot forward, and then another, I was fixated on the underside of the Humvee and the ground beneath my feet.

  “All right,” Rachel said. “We’re five yards out. It’s time to dump the truck. Y’all ready?”

  “Ready,” we said simultaneously.

  “One big push,” Liam said.

  “Just like you’re giving birth!”

  I heard someone slug Gavin’s arm. “Thank you,” I said aloud, to whoever deserved the kudos.

  “On three,” Liam said again. “One, two—”

  We were so close to the Beyond, to the magic it contained, that the world was aflame with it. I let it pour in, let it give buoyancy to the truck, so when Liam got to “Three!” tossing it was child’s play.

  It flew over our heads and behind, and hit the ground twenty feet behind us with a crash and a squelch that said we’d probably weaponized it. It bobbled, rolled twice, and came to a rest.

  “Go!” Rachel yelled, and ran through the filmy boundary.

  Gavin followed, and then Malachi put a hand on my arm, looked at me. “Magic?”

  “I’m okay. I had to keep replenishing to keep the car in the air. I can manage.”

  And I hoped that wasn’t just adrenaline talking.

  I crossed my fingers and ran through.

  * * *

  • • •

  “Everybody okay?” Liam asked when we’d made it into the Beyond.

  “Fine,” Rachel said, holstering her weapon and taking a look around.

  Elysium looked . . . a lot like southern Louisiana. The sky was blue, the clouds white and fluffy, a single sun hanging above us. The land was relatively flat and green, with clusters of trees edging wide fields and birds chirping within them.

  But it felt like standing inside a power station. The power a steady thrum in my head, a vibration that seemed to reach to the marrow of my bones. Feeling the Veil had been like being washed by a cresting wave of power. This was being set adrift in the ocean with no life preserver, no raft.

  The pressure grew until it seemed to fill my head, until the sound of the breeze, the grass, the birds, muted like a light being turned off. My eyes seemed too big for my sockets, my skin too tight to hold my body, my joints uncomfortable as I sank to my knees.

  I looked up, saw Liam’s mouth was moving, but there was no sound.

  My heartbeat was so loud, so slow, I thought it was the march of a coming army. I looked around, trying to find the source, locate the battalion that was obviously moving closer to us. But there was nothing but sunshine and grass. I put my fist against my chest, felt the beats there, and tried to breathe through the haze.

  Liam dropped to his knees and placed a hand on my face, and I saw panic in his eyes.

  I fought my own rising panic, tried to think what I should be doing about it. And of all the random things, I thought of the last plane ride I’d taken and what had worked when my ears had begun to ache from the pressurization. Without a better idea, I closed my eyes, pinched my nose, and blew.

  Sound returned with a sharp pop as the pressure equalized in my head.

  “Claire? Claire!”

  “I’m okay,” I said, wincing at the sudden volume increase. I was still shaky, and still felt bloated with power. But at least the fog was gone. “It’s . . . the magic. I’m adjusting.”

  “Adjusting well?” Malachi asked, looking me over.

  “Adjusting,” I said again. “That’s all I’m willing to commit to.” I looked up at Liam, gave him a quick scan, and found he didn’t look any different. “You’re okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he said, but there was an edge to his voice. He looked at Malachi. “It’s fighting me.”

  Malachi moved closer
. “How?”

  “It wants . . . in. Or out. Or . . . I don’t know. Maybe I want it. Want to grab it. Something in my head—the sixth sense, whatever feels the magic. It’s . . . aware how much is out there.”

  “The magic is outside you,” Malachi said. “It can’t get to you unless you take it in. Unless you pull it in. And you’re stronger than that.”

  His eyes were spinning gold, flashing coins, blinding suns.

  “Ça va,” Gavin said, squatting in front of us. “Snap out of it, frère. Apply some of that big-brother stubbornness and beat it back.”

  Liam squeezed his eyes closed, shook his head. “It wants . . .”

  Still dizzy, still full of magic, I put my hands on his face. “Liam. Fight it back.”

  He shook his head again, sweat glistening across his forehead as he fought the war we couldn’t see.

  “Liam,” I said again. “Stop this.” I made my tone as sharp as I could manage. As insistent as I could manage. “Ignore the magic and come back. We have things to do and you’re wasting time.”

  “Power,” he said quietly. “So much at the ready.”

  “Not your power,” I said. “It’s not meant for you, and you don’t need it. You’ve got the self-control. You just have to use it.”

  He shook his head fiercely, muscles rigid beneath my hands. I dropped them from his face, took his balled fists, brought them to my lips. I kissed each of them in turn.

  “I’m here,” I whispered. “I know you can do this. You’re strong. You’re devastatingly handsome, and if you don’t shut it down, I’ll use my magic to yank the desire right out of you. And I don’t think you want that.”

  His eyes opened. Gold swirled, dissipated . . . and faded to a bare shimmer.

  “You in there?” I asked. And I was half-afraid he wouldn’t be able to answer.

  “I’m here.” His eyes narrowed. “Did you threaten to magic me?”

  “Only a little. And for your own good.”

  He closed his eyes, turned his face into my palm, and smiled. “I always wanted a girl I could count on.”

  I let out the breath I’d been holding. He was back.

  “He’s all right,” I said, and could practically feel the group’s collective sigh of relief.

  “You’re gonna sleep really well tonight,” I said. “That was a good workout.”

  “Not ideal,” he said weakly, and I couldn’t really argue with that.

  We climbed to our feet, stood there a moment until we were both stable.

  “Humans don’t belong in the Beyond,” I said, “is the lesson of this particular experience.”

  “Cosign,” Liam said, running his hands through his hair, then took a swig from the canteen Gavin offered him.

  I opened my mouth to suggest we get moving, when an enormous shadow traced the ground. I braced for another fight, another impact, the glint of gold off Seelie armor.

  We all looked up—and stared.

  Not a Seelie, I realized. Not even a guard or an ironically named welcome committee. And I didn’t think it was a Paranormal. Or not really.

  It was a mosquito. If mosquitoes were more than a foot long.

  Its body was a narrow tube striped in brown and white, its legs long, skinny, and segmented, its wings narrow and translucent. And at the end of its disproportionately small face was the tubelike nose that could definitely do some damage.

  This thing wasn’t just a nuisance. It was a monster.

  “And speaking of things that shouldn’t be in the Beyond,” Rachel said.

  Liam slid his gaze to Malachi. “You didn’t mention this particular part of Elysium.”

  “It’s not native,” Malachi said. “It’s one of yours.”

  “It came through the Veil,” I realized. “Came through the Veil and was affected by magic.”

  “So it’s a Sensitive,” Gavin said with a grin. “Typical. Always with the drama. With the magic. Should we—should we kill it?”

  We all looked at Gavin.

  “I mean, it’s a mosquito, right? It’s not here to fix your cable. It’s a parasite.”

  “It is,” Liam said. “And it might be carrying viruses.”

  “Virii,” Rachel said with a smile, crouching as the—insect seemed too mild a word—leviathan flew overhead.

  “How would you even make a sleeping net for that?” He moved his heads around his head. “They could probably proboscis right through it.”

  “I don’t think you can use ‘proboscis’ as a verb,” I said.

  “Contrary to all evidence,” Gavin said, giving himself an air check.

  “It might be the only one of its kind,” I said, feeling suddenly Time Lord–y about it. “An Earth-Beyond hybrid.” Not unlike me and Liam and Burke. Affected by two worlds. “Do we really want to kill it?”

  Before we could wrestle with the ethics of it, an enormous bird—feathers ink black and gleaming, beak a brilliant vermilion—swooped through the brush and snatched the mosquito midair with clawed feet. Wings beating the air, but making no sound, it lifted and soared into a stand of tall trees and out of sight.

  For a moment, we just stared at empty space.

  “I think that was our best-case scenario,” Liam said quietly.

  Rachel nodded. “We were just saved from a moral conundrum.”

  Gavin looked at Malachi. “If we find more of those, you might as well just burn Elysium to the ground and start over. Malaria isn’t worth it.”

  “Let’s get moving,” Malachi said, and we began to walk.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Malachi had brought his beautiful map, now filled in with additional details about the land we were marching through. He took point, and Rachel held the map, pausing now and again to suggest formations when we crossed something unusual in the landscape.

  And as we moved farther from the Veil, the obvious effects of our world began to fade. The terrain dried out, so swamp-edged flats gave way to meadows carpeted with pale purple wildflowers that swayed gently in the breeze.

  “This is gorgeous,” I said, skimming my hand over the thick fringe of blossoms. The movement put shimmering pollen and the smell of lavender into the air, and left a faint tingle in my fingertips.

  It was magic, somehow condensed in the flora. Not magic that deadened soil or scorched trees, but allowed this beautiful landscape to thrive. What would it be like to live in a place like this, where magic was beneficial, not destructive? Where it wasn’t a sickness I had to manage, but a gift I could enjoy? A strength, and not a weakness?

  We walked through the meadow, following a neatly edged trail of packed grass. The trail curved here and there, but we moved steadily forward. After two hours of walking, most of us silent as we watched the landscape, I realized we’d seen no people, no farms, no roads, no houses, no animals. No sign of wildlife at all but for the distant chirp of some unseen birds. No signs that anyone inhabited this place. Just the rolling expanse of meadows, a breeze that smelled like lavender, and the cheerful call of birds hidden in the deep blanket of grasses.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked Malachi.

  “The population lives in cities,” Malachi said. “Homes and property are communally owned, divided, regulated. And there are fewer beings here than on Earth.”

  “And fewer still since the invasion,” Rachel said.

  I expected Malachi to argue, to make some defense of his homeland, but none came.

  “And no armed sentries,” Gavin said. “No patrols. No cameras, no fences. Are your people so confident?”

  “The division was between Court and Consularis,” Malachi said. “There had been guards, patrols. Destruction. Apparently they’re no longer needed.”

  But he sounded unsure, as if the pastoral scenery was surprising to him, too. But if he had more to say, he kept it to himself.

/>   We reached a glade of tall and slender trees that looked like willows—the bark almost glossily smooth, the branches delicate and fluid in the breeze. They arced overhead like the dome of a cathedral, sending dappled light. Their branches bore fruit: butter yellow spheres about the size of grapes that hung in clusters of four or five. The skin was bright and gleaming, and they looked like the kind of fruit my father would have warned me was very, very poisonous.

  “What are those?” I asked.

  Malachi looked, evaluated. “Honoras. They are similar to your, I think, blackberries.”

  “Can we try one?” I asked.

  We might have been on a mission, but this would probably be my first and only trip to the Beyond. I’d need to experience what I could while I could.

  With a faintly amused smile, Malachi reached carefully around prickly vines, plucked one out, and offered it to me.

  It was heavier than I’d expected. The skin was taut and smooth and, when I took a bite, nearly crisp. The center was softer, like the inside of a mango, and tasted like sunshine.

  “It’s like a cross between a pineapple and a grape,” I said, smiling up at Malachi. “You guys get points for produce.”

  “While we’re snacking . . . ,” Gavin began, and pulled a granola bar from his bag. He unwrapped it, began to crunch.

  Liam stopped, glared at his brother. “Why are you chewing so loudly? You sound like a damn beaver.”

  “Do beavers make that much noise?” Gavin asked, crunching again.

  “I will take the granola bar away.”

  “I think you need one. You’re irritable and testy.”

  Liam’s lip curled.

  “All right, children,” I said, and made the risky decision to step between them, putting a hand on each (well-muscled) chest. “We’re all tired and hungry. Gavin, stop irritating your brother. Liam, eat a snack, because you’re getting hangry.”

  “This is our Fort Walton Beach road trip all over again,” Gavin said.