by Amy Sumida
“Carus?” Azrael finally asked in concern.
“Um, that was the Eiffel Tower, wasn't it?”
Azrael looked at the conglomeration of metal and wood before us. “Yes. It's lovely, don't you think?”
“Sure,” I said with a little whimper. “Lovely. The new, improved version.”
The tower's metal frame was still there—not intact but there. The base was unchanged except for the fact that it was full of tree trunks—four, to be exact. The trees had grown in each corner, the metal caging them in and forcing them to wind together into one tree at the center. But that was where they stopped conforming. Just past the first horizontal line of the tower, right above the first arch, the spiraled tree burst free of its cage and spewed forth. The top of the tower had split and peeled back like a banana to allow for this—four lengths of metal strips drooping toward the ground in perfect curves, like the sepals of a rose. The tree that emerged from this new Eiffel Flower went from a normal brown shade to a rich black, darker even than the night sky.
Yes, it was night in Paris, and the tree might have blended in with the sky beyond it if not for the electric lights that were—despite all the damage—still attached and working. They blazed gold along the curves of metal lattice and shone upward to illuminate the glossy black branches and massive lavender leaves. But all of that wasn't as startling as the shadows that swirled within between the four trunks below, uniting them with darkness. I'd never seen a tree like it, not even in the Dark Kingdom.
“How are the lights still working?” I asked Az.
“The magic is a step forward, not back, Carus,” he chided me. “The human machines that power cities are still functioning, they just do so more efficiently now. They run on clean energy—water, wind, and geothermal power. I've done what the humans have been trying to do for many years but have failed at for ridiculous reasons like politics and greed. Now, providing power to the machines necessary for human survival and comfort will not pollute the planet. And you still have your precious Internet.” He smiled indulgently at me.
“I thought you said that the magic surged forth on its own?” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“It did.” he gave me a wounded look. “I may not have been able to stop it from spreading, but I was able to guide it in small ways. I did what I could to help them and I will continue to do so.”
“Oh,” I deflated. “Good. Thank you.”
“You're welcome.” Azrael grinned. “Would you like to fly up to its branches and take a closer look?”
I stared up at the ebony branches that swayed ever so slightly despite the fact that they were too massive to be moved by any breeze. “Uh. No, I've changed my mind. Let's go to the Louvre.”
“The museum?” Azrael frowned.
“Yes, the museum.” I gave him a long look. “You love art, Azrael. Maybe even more than I do.”
Az blinked and considered this. “You're right, I do. Very well.” His wings whooshed open. “Let's go to the Louvre.”
I spread my wings and launched myself into the night sky. I had to admit that it was glorious to fly freely across the world with Azrael beside me. We had flown over human cities before but always hidden under magic. Now, I could see him beside me. The moon glinted off Azrael's golden horns and softened his fey features. He was still in there, just past the madness and ferocity. The magic hadn't won yet.
We flew over Paris and I had to admit its new look was beautiful. The historic architecture was enhanced by the climbing vines and alien flowers. The cracked streets, sprouting trees in a rainbow of colors and mazes of thorny thickets, looked like a watercolor painting from above. The wrought-iron balconies and gates were perfect for hosting fragrant night blooms, and will-o'-the-wisps danced through the dark alleys, shining on prowling predators whose feral beauty came alive in the glowing light. Echoing cries of night creatures and the scent of exotic flowers filled the air.
But the flora was consuming, the fauna dangerous, and several buildings had changed into other things entirely. The city that had survived bombings and fires and all manner of destruction was buckling beneath the weight of wild magic from another realm. Most of its citizens hid in what was left of their homes, windows covered tightly (in some cases boarded), and those who walked the streets were either armed heavily or transformed.
Gangs of ex-humans stalked the streets. Muscles bulging beneath patches of fur, scales, or pebbled hide; long hair twining with feathers, or horns, or leaves; teeth tapering into dangerous points; and limbs ending in hooves or talons. They weren't any race of faerie I'd ever seen but instead, a new race. The Wild Fey—that's what Azrael had called them. They stopped what they were doing to watch us soar above them, then howled and roared at us. I wasn't sure if it were in greeting or warning.
Then we reached the Louvre.
The famous glass pyramid had survived the magic but had become a greenhouse, full to the top with plants, some of which glowed. The buildings that curved around the pyramid glowed as well, lit by fey lichen and flowers. Whole sections of architecture had been transformed into crystal, trees, and, in one case, a waterfall. The front entrance was gone, but we found a way in through a tangle of vines that drew aside like a curtain at Azrael's approach.
Azrael held his arm out to me as if we were entering a ballroom. I took it and let him lead me inside. Light bloomed above us, arcing across the domed ceiling, as we strode forth, and sleeping flowers opened their petals for the Faerie God. The thick bushes that spotted the cracked marble floors rustled and creatures ventured out of their hiding places to stare at Azrael in fascination. Furred things with huge eyes, scaled things that spat flames, little things that flew on insect wings, dark things that vanished into mist, and slimy things that surfaced from marshy puddles—they all paid their respects to their god.
Azrael waved his hand and the foliage coating the walls parted, revealing precious paintings by dead artists. I left his side to go to the art, inspecting each piece carefully for any damage. Painting after painting was revealed, all unharmed, and although the ancient statues on display were now adorned with plant life, they were also whole. Well, as whole as they had been before the world went fey.
“They're all right,” I said in relief.
“Of course, they are.” Azrael took my hand and started to lead me through the galleries again. “As you said, I love art. I want to preserve the beauty of the human race.”
“You do?” I asked cautiously.
“Yes, Carus, I do,” he said in reproach. “I want to save the Earth and its people, not harm it. Now, which of the paintings do you wish to take back with us?”
“What?” I asked in shock.
“They are ours now. The world is ours,” he said simply. “The art will not be admired here as it would in our home. So, which ones shall we take?”
“Uh. Let's decide that later.”
“They could be damaged by humans if we leave them,” Azrael said softly. “I am not controlling them, after all.”
“Damn it!” I hissed under my breath. “You're asking me to choose which masterpieces to save?”
“Or I could instruct the animals here to protect them,” he offered.
I looked around at the wildlife that had moved into one of the most amazing museums in the world and hesitated. What was worth more: a human life or a priceless painting? There was no question, really.
“No, don't do that,” I said. “Can't you protect the art in other ways?”
Az considered this, then nodded. The plants that had moved aside for us fell back into place and hardened. They gleamed in the fey light with the sheen of metal. I reached out and touched one—yep, metal.
“I cannot protect all of the world's treasure, Carus,” Azrael said softly as he wrapped his arms around my waist. “Wouldn't you prefer to take some with us?”
“The Mona Lisa, I suppose. I think that's here. It may not be my favorite but it's one of the most famous paintings in the world; it should be protected.”
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“As you wish,” Azrael said indulgently before kissing my throat, right above my rapid pulse. “Your scent,” he groaned and went back for another kiss. “Your body calls to me, Carus. I have a beast inside me now. He is not a stag, nor bird, nor dragon, but all of those and more. He is every creature of Earth and Faerie and he is in rut for you. He demands that I cover you with my body—hold you down and fill you.”
“Not here.” I tried to pull away.
His arms tightened. “Submit to me.”
“Say that word again and I will bust your antlers, Azrael!” I hissed and tore away from him.
Azrael chuckled—a dark, hellish sound—reminding me of where he came from. Not the magic, but Azrael himself.
He held a hand out to me, unfolding the claws from his palm in a way that seemed sinister. “Come here, Vervain.”
“Not happening, caveman,” I growled. “Your talent for seduction has lost its polish.”
“We are both beasts,” his voice filled the room and my head while his power slammed at me down our bond. “Get on your knees and mate with me.”
“Fuck you, Az.”
“Why are you so angry, Carus?” Azrael cocked his head in confusion. “You are my wife. You accepted me mere hours ago but now, you balk.”
“Because now, you're acting like an asshole. And a cretin. A crasshole.”
“Ah, I see. You want to be seduced.”
The darkness clothing me slipped away, drawing over my skin like silk. Air caressed me, hardening my nipples and stroking my sex. I shivered and gasped. Flames formed in the air and circled me, calling my scales forth to run down from my cheeks to my belly, outlining me in gold. Water formed on my skin and slid over my most sensitive places, drawing my own moisture forth. Sinister shadows slipped inside me and solidified. I cried out as darkness impaled me like a lover.
“Stop!” I roared and jerked away.
The elements vanished in a flurry of golden sparks.
“I don't understand why you're denying me.” Azrael frowned. “Tell me what you desire, Carus.”
I covered myself with scales and faced off with the madman before me. “I want my husband back!”
“I am right here.” He held his arms out to his sides. His clothes vanished and his wings spread wide. Only his long hair covered him but it was more like curtains on a stage, framing the star. “What about this form displeases you? Tell me and I will change it. I will be whatever you need me to be.”
“Az,” I whispered brokenly, “I know you're still in there. Please, honey, try harder.”
“I offer to change my body for you but you want me to try harder?” He scowled. “What else could I possibly do, Vervain? You wish me to empty the seas? Pull down the stars? Name it. I am your willing slave.” He went down onto his knees. “All I ask is that you submit to me.”
I clenched my jaw before responding, “You almost had me there but then you went and said the S-word again. And I always make good on my threats.”
I launched myself at Azrael, grabbed him by the golden antlers, and twisted. In my mind, a thought had formed—that if I could just get those damn things off his head, it might let some sense in. Azrael howled as the antlers started to crack. Even magic antlers aren't a match to dragon strength. He tossed his head and threw me into a wall. Metal vines scraped my scales, making a sound like nails on a chalkboard as I slid to the floor. I gasped in a breath as Az got to his feet and advanced on me. His eyes were glowing and so were his antlers—healing the fissures I'd formed.
Fear lanced through me suddenly.
I scrambled to my feet and ran, too afraid to remember that I could trace. The Faerie God gave chase with a howling roar that raised gooseflesh on my skin. A primal sound that made even my dragon feel like prey. My heart pounded wildly as I darted around fey flora and startled fauna, desperately trying to find an exit. I finally jumped out a window that had been broken by creeping vines and landed in a patch of thick grass. I could have flown but I continued to run. The predator part of my brain had switched off. I fled like a scared rabbit searching for a place to hide.
It had been a long time since I'd felt that sort of fear. I'd forgotten how dumb it could make you. Scared stupid, as they say. I always yell at the idiots in movies who blunder toward danger instead of away, ignoring the things that could save them. I assume it's simply entertainment, that no one could be that stupid. But there I was, running through the streets of Paris like a sorority girl trying to escape a bunch of inbred hillbillies while passing unlocked vehicles and loaded shotguns. So dumb. I'd kick my own ass later... if I survived.
I could feel Azrael behind me and inside me—a presence that was growing like the magic in this realm. His masculinity and virility were like physical things, pulsing across my back like the lashes of a whip, demanding that I yield. If I stopped for a second, his magic would shove me down onto the cracked pavement and keep me there until he arrived to conquer me in the most base way. The strong woman inside me whimpered and ran faster, sensing that my strength would be snatched away if I made a stand. Retreat doesn't make you weak when you're outmatched; it makes you smart. Sometimes, brave is just a pretty word for a fool. And I was being foolish enough as it was.
You only excite me more, my love, Azrael said in my mind. Is that what this? Are you trying to drive me into a frenzy? I think I like this game. Run, my sweet goddess. Run and I will hunt you.
I couldn't even form a response; I was that terrified. I functioned on instincts alone and those instincts told me to get the fuck away from that crazy motherfucker right the fuck now! My instincts have a potty mouth.
Then a howl echoed in front of me. I stumbled to a stop and stood there panting as I searched the tangle of plants that crowded the street. Something yipped like a hyena on my right. Eyes glowed in a dark alley. A thorn bush that should have been surrounding a sleeping princess shivered from the passage of something very awake and not at all pretty. I turned in a circle, seeing them everywhere.
Wild Faeries stepped out of the shadows, shoulders hunched and teeth bared. As they closed in around me, I finally remembered that I wasn't a rabbit; I was a dragon. I straightened my spine, regrew my lady-balls, and settled into a crouch as I growled a warning. The ex-men—that's ex with an E; these guys were far from superheroes, though one did resemble Beast—pulled back, eyeing me warily. But then they remembered that they were many and I was one. Their circle closed in tighter.
“You fuckers are toast.” I grinned and drew in a breath. They were about to be ex-fey too.
“How dare you!” Azrael roared before I could release my fire. He bashed two Wild Faeries with his wings, knocking them into their kin as he entered the ring they'd formed around me. “Do you not recognize your goddess! Kneel!”
The Wild Faeries dropped to their knees and bowed their heads immediately.
Azrael stepped up beside me and took my hand. He lifted it to his lips and kissed my palm adoringly. “Our game is over now, yes? Shall we go home, Carus?”
My heartbeat calmed and a tinge of embarrassment crept up my cheeks. Why had I run? I should have traced away. Or flown. Or even used my damn ring. But I realized then why I hadn't. Even in my terror, my heart was his. I couldn't leave Azrael. Not now, when he was so close to losing all of himself. It was crucial that I stay and remind him of who he was. The fate of the world could depend on it but, honestly, all I cared about right then was him—my angel.
I lifted a hand to his cheek, right where his angelic symbol should have been. “Yes, let's go home, Azrael.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
It didn't occur to me until after we returned to the castle that Azrael had controlled the Wild Fey. He handled them as he said he would. Which meant that he wasn't just controlling the magic but also the things that the magic altered. He could form armies of Wild Faeries if he wanted to. And he'd want to. Because humans don't stay beaten for long. They'd eventually find a way to fight back and then the Faerie God would have to crush
them. Probably with their own, transformed people. Talk about rubbing salt in a wound.
“Az, do you remember when you first took me to Shehaquim?” I asked softly as we stepped out onto the balcony of our bedroom suite.
Azrael had led the trace back into the castle, holding my hand to bring me through his wards since he still wouldn't trust me enough to give me tracing access. We had reformed in the bedroom, right beside the bathing pool, but I'd caught a glimpse of our reflection in the mirror across the way and it made me shiver. We both looked wild now—our long hair tangled and skin flushed. I had to find a way to reach the real man behind the magic.
“Yes,” Azrael said as he slid an arm around me and pulled me in against his side. “I showed you my paintings and—” He stopped suddenly and drew away from me. “Something is wrong.”
