by Kira Brady
Corbette offered a cucumber sandwich, which she refused. She wasn’t remotely hungry. “Intent is important in magic,” he said, selecting one for himself. “Unwilling, the blood sacrifice requires death, or close to it. But if your sister conducted the ceremony willingly, a bit of her blood would be enough.”
“Desi would never—”
“The kid.” Hart reached over and squeezed her hand. “He could have raised the kid to do the ceremony willingly.”
“Possible,” Corbette said, “There is the small matter of controlling Kingu once he is freed. Who knows what devious plan he concocted?”
Kayla shuddered. Hart wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She turned into his warmth.
She wondered when Desi had discovered his plans for her child.
Corbette set down his teacup and turned his heavy gaze on Kayla. “You see why I can’t let you leave. You’re vulnerable. You need my protection—”
“I’ll protect her,” Hart said.
“And when you grow bored of her?”
Hart showed his teeth. His eyes turned black, and his canines elongated. “Right. And you do a bang-up job of protecting your own.”
The oxygen in the study seemed to shrink. The air grew pregnant with the edge of violence. Outside, thunderclouds rolled in. She wondered who would blink first.
To everyone’s surprise, Corbette broke the silence. His expression said he didn’t admit defeat, only acknowledged that Hart’s accusation was legitimate. “It was an old custom. No Changeling had been moon-marked in over a century. You were the first. You were . . . unlucky.”
“Unlucky? You wanted to leave him to die on a glacier!” Kayla said.
“Hart and his mother left precipitously. There was, for certain, a call to uphold tradition in this instance, but not everyone agreed.” Corbette sipped his tea, as if they chatted about embroidery or the weather, not murder. “Our culture is on the verge of extinction, and our rituals sustain us.”
“Convenient for you,” Hart muttered. “ ‘Don’t blame me, the rituals made me do it!’”
Corbette gave him a flat look. “Like I said, you left before I ruled on the matter. We would have spared you, but you were already gone.”
“And you didn’t go after them?” Kayla asked.
Hart made a small noise and sat back slowly in his chair. The angry set of his shoulders eased. Now he just looked tired. “Maybe he did.”
Corbette studied the contents of his teacup.
“He did?” Kayla asked.
“We thought they were trying to kill us.” Hart ran a hand through his hair. “We were on the run for almost a year.”
“I am sorry for your loss,” Corbette said formally.
“Yeah, yeah.” Hart waved him off. “So you owe me one. Let us go now, and we’ll call it even.”
“I can’t.”
Hart settled his arm protectively around Kayla. “I say you can.”
Corbette sighed and put aside his cup. “We need her to close the Gate, should Norgard succeed in opening it.”
“But I don’t know anything.” Kayla protested. She hadn’t studied magic. She hadn’t read any books, attended any lectures, passed any exams. They couldn’t depend on her.
Yet this is what Desi had died for. What her mother and great-grandfather had died for. This was her legacy. She couldn’t ignore it, even though it terrified her. She couldn’t let them down.
“No time to train you,” Corbette said. “Trust your instincts. They don’t seem to have failed you yet.” His eyes flicked to Hart.
Kayla blushed. She couldn’t explain last night.
“She’s not going in there,” Hart said. “She’s staying in the safe house, or she’s going back to Philly. That’s non-negotiable.”
“Is she?” Corbette asked mildly.
“You said her blood’s diluted. You can’t use her. She’s not Kivati—”
“Isn’t she?”
Hart slammed his hands on the table. “She doesn’t owe you nothing!”
“Get it through your thick skull, Wolf: this isn’t about the Kivati or the humans or you or me. If we don’t shut the Gate, there will be nowhere she can run, nowhere she can hide from what’s coming. There will be no one and nothing left.”
Hart closed his mouth, but he didn’t look happy about it.
“Hart.” Kayla took his hand. “I want to do this. I have to.”
He searched her face.
“Perhaps,” Corbette said, “she could use another guard to increase her chances of getting out alive.”
Sneaky bastard. He had Hart right where he wanted him. The same thought flashed over Hart’s face—surprise, then resignation. Kayla wanted to tell him he didn’t have to risk his life for her, but she knew it would be a waste of breath. His eyes said as much.
Corbette stood. “That’s settled. You’ve one hour. I’ll loan you a guest room where you can get some . . . rest.”
Kayla had so many questions, but for the first time in her life she didn’t want to waste precious moments gathering information. One hour was hardly time to fit a lifetime worth of living, but it was all she had. She wanted to spend every one of those thirty-six hundred seconds with Hart.
He seemed to have the same idea. He put a protective arm around her, and led her into the opulent hallway.
The guest room was lavishly decorated with an antique four-poster bed and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking downtown Seattle and Puget Sound. The mountains in the distance were snow-topped and gorgeous, but she couldn’t help imagining them exploding in lava and ash in a few short hours. She closed the curtains against the multimillion-dollar view, leaving the room in shadow. She needed the world to be small again, narrowing to touch and taste. Not the fate of the world, just her and her lover. Hearts beating in passion, not fear.
He came to her in the darkness. His hot hands rubbed up and down her arms, soothing and reassuring. She strained her eyes to see his handsome face. She wanted to burn it into her memory, a gift to take with her into the dangerous unknown. Would he still be alive tomorrow? Would she? Would they stop Norgard before it was too late? Would humans rest peaceful tonight, ignorant of the disaster that hung on a knife’s edge? Until the next time some hell-bound lunatic tried to blast open the Gate.
“Shh,” Hart whispered in her ear. His breath on her sensitive neck sent shivers down her spine. He was so large and hot and deliciously male. She wished she could burrow into his strength and light, and take shelter from the coming storm.
“Don’t think,” he said. “Stop that beautiful brain of yours for a minute or two. Give me a chance to get started.”
She couldn’t help smiling.
“Yeah, I can feel that laugh,” he said. His hand caressed her breastbone. He probably felt the vibration along her chest. “Stay with me, babe. Tell me what you feel when I touch you here.” His fingers dipped beneath her shirt and found the pebble of her nipple.
“I feel . . .” She had to concentrate on what he was doing to put it into words. As a distraction, it worked. Her brain wasn’t big enough to both worry and make sense of the sensations cascading through her.
“What?” His teeth nipped her earlobe.
“Oh . . . I feel that down my nerves, down my neck and—”
He moved his teeth lower, biting gently over her carotid artery. She shivered.
“I love that sound you make,” he said. “A little breathy moan in the back of your throat.” His right hand cupped her breast and massaged. His left got to work on the buttons of her shirt.
“That feels . . . nice,” she said.
“Nice? That’s it?”
“Very nice.”
“I can do better.” He opened her shirt and replaced his hand with his mouth. His tongue and teeth laved her nipple. The sensations quickly overwhelmed her ability to form words.
She wrapped her hands in his hair and held on tight. Her lack of sight in the almost-dark served to heighten her other senses. His smell—mus
k and pine—shot north to her brain. His touch—calloused and hotter than hell—shot straight south.
Last night their lovemaking had been rushed. A race to the finish before the madness claimed him. A conflagration, burning all at once. This time they went slow, not because they had more time—they had less—but because they didn’t want to miss a second of the time they had. Every caress was like the first time and the last. Every inch of body and soul was savored to make it stretch an eternity.
Time stopped.
Hart carried her to the soft feather mattress and carefully laid her down. “A real bed this time. Should have been like this—”
“No.” She covered his mouth with her fingers. “It was perfect.”
He took her fingers between his lips and sucked on the sensitive tips. Desire pooled low in her belly. She helped strip him of his clothes until they were skin to skin. His hard length burned against her hip. He kissed his way down her torso, stopping along the way to suckle and lick, and made his way between her thighs. His hot breath tickled.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered. He dragged her uncertain hands to cover her breasts and showed her how to rub and pinch the alert tips. His head returned to her core. He lifted and spread her thighs for his perusal.
She tried to think of words to describe it, but she could only moan. Oh! There, and Yes, more! She closed her eyes and lost herself. In her Other vision, Hart’s body flared with light. Electric currents pulsed through his limbs and spine, shooting toward the place where his mouth suckled her. It was almost as if his light were feeding into her. It built higher and brighter, matching her body stroke for stroke. She reached the top like a firecracker.
He held her gently as she came back down.
“Is it always like this?” she asked.
“No.”
He filled her with one solid stroke. She didn’t think she could take any more, but somehow she did. He restoked the fire. Could Hart see how brightly their soul lights blazed? Like a beacon searing the shadows from the room.
“I love you,” Kayla said, when at last they lay still in each other’s arms.
Hart’s eyebrows shot up and his lips parted. “I—”
The door flew open. The sudden light blinded Kayla, but she sensed two figures quickly turn their backs to the room. They didn’t, unfortunately, leave.
Hart gave her a wry grin, but didn’t move. His body blocked her nudity from the intruders.
Kai stopped in the doorway. “Get the fuck up,” he ordered.
“I was up,” Hart said. “You should try it sometime, dickwad.”
“We’re leaving immediately—”
“Why? Corbette said we had an hour—”
“Something’s come up.”
“Not my problem.”
Kai drew his gun. Hart’s back was to the weapon, so he couldn’t see it, but he must have noticed Kayla stiffen beneath him.
“That’s going to do you a lot of good,” Hart said, “considering you need us alive.”
“Don’t try me, werewolf. Norgard has taken a hostage for his sacrifice.”
Kayla felt her stomach drop. “Who?”
“Lady Lucia.”
“Shit,” Hart muttered, pushing himself up. “Smart move on his part. Don’t know why we didn’t think of it. Poor kid.”
Kayla swallowed. “What’s he going to do to her?”
“Nothing,” Kai growled, “if we get there in time.”
“How’d he snatch her?” Hart asked. “Your people sleeping on the job?”
“Ambush. Killed one bodyguard, the other is missing. We found her sailboat scuttled in the Montlake Cut.”
Hart kissed Kayla’s ear. “I can see you wanting to feel guilty for this one too, but she isn’t like your sister. She had trained warriors guarding her. Not your fault.”
He knew her too well. Saw her faults and weaknesses, understood her need to help and heal. She felt a burden lift from her chest. She couldn’t change what had happened, but she could put all her energy into moving forward with his help.
Kai left clean clothes—Kivati battle gear—and gave them privacy to dress, with the order to “hurry the fuck up.”
Kayla’s hands shook as she pulled on the black leather pants.
“Leather is tougher for knives and claws to get through,” Hart said, when she asked why she had to wear so much black leather. She felt like a wannabe vampire.
The leather corset was a little too tight. It covered a black, long-sleeved cotton blouse that laced up over her breasts. Iron-studded leather arm sheaths protected her from elbow to wrist. The steel-toed combat boots were made for stomping. She could break someone’s kneecap with these suckers. She hoped she never got close enough to the enemy to test that theory.
Hart’s outfit had a similar leather-bound theme, though his pants were looser and his boots bigger.
“Hasn’t someone invented stronger material than leather for battle?” she asked. “Kevlar or something? Military grade.”
“Synthetics don’t hold up to the spirit world. Only materials that have once been alive work: linen, cotton, hemp, hide, leather. Natural fibers have residual Aether energy, like a memory of having life. It’s a small additional barrier to demons and spirits. ’Sides, plastics and other crap just fall apart close to the Gate.”
“But plastic is in everything these days. If the Gate opens, what will happen to skyscrapers, computers, modern technology in general?”
“Babe, if the Gate opens we’ll have much bigger problems.”
Kai returned to bring them to the armory.
“I don’t know how to use anything here,” Kayla protested. “I’d be more likely to shoot myself on accident.”
“I’ll be with you the whole time,” Hart promised. “But you have to carry something just in case.” He picked out a short knife and matching scabbard that had protective runes carved in the weathered hide. Lacing a belt through the scabbard, he strapped it around her waist.
He picked enough weapons for himself to outfit a small militia. Knives in each boot and strapped to each arm bracer. Silver throwing stars at his wrists. A long sword and an ax—well suited for beheading a dragon—crossed over his back. Guns too. Like Kai, he wore a bandoleer over his chest to hold ammunition.
Kayla didn’t want to think of him having to use all that stuff. He was armored and lethal, but she’d seen beneath his hard exterior. He wasn’t a killer, no matter what he said. He had a choice.
“I choose to protect you,” he said gruffly, “I don’t give a rat’s ass for those other dumb fucks.”
How sweet.
Chapter 18
Hart settled weapons against his body. The familiar weight was comforting. He couldn’t waste energy thinking about Kayla being in danger. Her scent—following delicately behind him—was comforting too, but it also sent fear coursing through him whenever he thought of her going into battle. All his training had led up to this moment. He was one bad motherfucker with a weapon in his hand. Nothing would get past him to touch her. Nothing.
They followed Kai to the weapon field at the front of the mansion, where Corbette waited. Corbette looked like someone had run over his dog. His face was dark as the thunderclouds above and his knuckles so tight on his cane they looked like bone. His left foot tapped with restless energy.
Hart tilted his head and studied the man. He’d never thought of the Raven Lord as a real person, with hopes and personal dreams, emotions even, before this. Corbette was legendary for his ruthlessness and self-control. He lived to protect his people, but he’d failed to protect the little princess. Was that the only maggot eating his conscience? Or did he have deeper feelings for the girl?
Corbette was supposed to marry the kid, but only to fulfill the Spider’s prophecy. Only to combine two strong bloodlines and create the next generation of iron-willed rulers. Convenience, not love. Right?
Hart wasn’t so sure about that anymore.
Corbette noticed them finally. His violet eyes
pulsed with the killing edge.
“Why Lucia?” Kayla asked. “Why not any Kivati off the street? What’s he going to do to her?”
“There’s a prophecy about her,” Hart said. “She’s supposed to be the Kivati’s ‘salvation.’ Norgard would like that, twisting her role so she’s their destruction instead.”
“He’s all about the grand gestures, isn’t he?” Kayla asked.
Hart nodded. “If you’re gonna do something, go all out. Balls to the wall.”
“What’s the prophecy say?” Kayla asked.
Corbette stared at the ground. “In an age of Darkness, the Crane will bring a great light. The people who lived in the land of the shadow of death will rise up, and the Harbinger will lead them. Cast off your shackles, oh Changers! See, oh you blind ones! Follow the Crane to destiny, for behind her lies ruin.”
Hart paused with “What the fuck?” sitting on his tongue, but he kept his yap shut. He must be learning. Corbette was not receptive to smart-ass questions.
“Destiny,” Kayla asked, “like the Tablets of Destiny? You’re saying her prophecy and the Drekar’s Tiamat legend are connected?”
Corbette and Kai both stared at her.
“No?” Kayla seemed uncertain.
Hart grinned and said to Corbette, “Now who’s a stupid half-blood, huh? Never thought of that, did you?” Nope, he couldn’t keep his yap shut apparently.
“No,” Corbette said slowly, “never thought of that.”
Kai swore.
“What’s he going to do to her?” Kayla asked.
Corbette stiffened. Ignoring her, he spun on his booted heel and began snapping out orders left and right. Kai followed. Apparently it was time to move out.
“Norgard will rape her, won’t he?” Kayla asked quietly. “He needs a virgin sacrifice.”
Hart put his arm around her and drew her close. He couldn’t stand the horror in her eyes. Would confirming the truth make her feel better or worse? He rubbed her arms, wishing he could take away some of the pain.
In the center of the field, Corbette raised his hands for a moment of silence. All the warriors bowed their heads.
The Kivati Spirit Seeker stepped onto the porch. She held a white feather in one hand and a fistful of earth in the other. She spread her arms wide to encompass the army and prayed. “May the Lady lift our wings today. Grant us the strength to overcome this great evil, and the courage to pass into the world beyond should we fall. May She hold us in Her heart whatever path lies before us.”
