The breath backs up in my lungs.
Sinister-looking creatures with large, red eyes float out in massive numbers. Their physical bodies look human, but not. Some have claws or talons in place of their hands, others are covered in fur, and still more have wings protruding from their shoulder blades. Yet, when their feet touch the ground and they surround the child, every one of them appears human.
Well, their bodies do. Their energy is markedly different. It flickers and rises like black fire, and I wonder how something that vile isn’t visible to the naked, untrained, and un-Gifted eye.
“Demons,” I breathe, backing away. Kye squeezes my hand.
The cloaked figure rises, thrusts the infant higher above his head, and yells something we can’t hear. He repeats the motion again and again, rhythmically, chanting a mantra, and the evil-looking creatures fall on their knees and bow.
My heart hammers as the lights fade and the picture falls apart. Juri removes the dagger and rewraps it, then closes the box and turns the key on the Cairn Elen.
When he looks up, his eyes are sad. “When I was young, I went on a quest for the Arawn Keys.” The corners of his lips turn up as he replaces the wrapped bundle in the wall safe. “Did Landon tell you about that? He came with me.”
“No,” Kye says, surprised. “He didn’t mention it.”
“Oh yes. All those years ago, Landon, Valdemar, and I set out to conquer the forces of evil all by ourselves.” Juri frowns. “Turned out we all wanted different things. Too bad. We never completed the journey.”
Feeling nervous, I brush the hair out of my eyes and manage to get my ring tangled in it. “Did the three of you keep in touch at all?”
Juri doesn’t answer. He’s staring at me. The back of my neck prickles with a sense of danger and a tingle of alarm races along my spine. My ring is still glowing, as it has been since we walked in—just enough to be conspicuous. I shove my hand in my pocket, trying to appear casual, but I’m ready to run.
“Where did you get that ring?” Juri asks.
Fear dries out my mouth and my mind blanks. Kye stands, taking my hand. He’s getting ready to run too.
“Where?” Juri’s voice changes and the lights flicker under his power.
Kye drags me behind him and backs us slowly to the door. “I bought it for her. Cheesy airport gift shop.”
“You’re a terrible liar, boy. There are probably fewer than ten people in the modern world who’d recognize the Ring of the Princess. I happen to be one of them.” He inches toward us. “Tell me, little girl. Do you understand what happened to that ring’s original owner?”
“Yes,” I squeak. “I was there when she died.” What if he killed Gram?
“Oh, to be so innocent. So clueless.” He shakes his head. “I assure you, Isabelle Johnson was not the original owner.” At my shocked expression, he explains, “Yes, I knew her. Quite well, actually. I followed her for years—never quite positive she actually had it.”
“My Gram. You killed her, didn’t you?”
He strokes his jawbone with short, stubby fingers. “Not personally. Another story for another day.”
If only I wasn’t frozen with fear, if I wasn’t absolutely certain that we needed to leave right now, right now, I would find a way to make him tell me about what happened that night. I would find a way to punish Juri for hurting my Gram. Except I can’t speak. Without Kye backing into me, I’m not sure I could think to move.
Juri’s thick legs swish together as he gets closer to us. His arms swing and I picture his knuckles dragging on the floor. “Seeing as how you’re Landon’s kids, I’m willing to offer you some extra assistance. It would be handy to know how to save yourself when the Dark Ones come after you.”
“No thanks,” Kye’s hand on my arm trembles.
“Perhaps it would be prudent for you to stay here. I can protect you.” Juri is only a few feet away, looking directly at me. “The ring makes Key number three. Only one more left to find. I save you from imminent death, and you help me with a special project of my own. It won’t take long. I’ll even make sure you have a nice room to share—and I won’t tell Landon.” He offers a nasty insinuating smile. “You know what they say—it all stays in Vegas.”
Kye’s body quivers like a spring at its limit. “I said no. But thanks for the offer.”
Juri pushes a button on his desk and Walt enters, followed by another security guard. Juri continues to advance, and now his guards are coming at us from behind.
My ring pulses again. Through the roaring in my ears, I hear Kye mumbling. Following an inhuman screech, five or six rats scurry in from the hall. One brushes my pants and I scream, but it ignores me and lunges for Juri—a mad look in its eyes. The rats sink their teeth into Juri’s shoes and proceed to climb his clothes, biting along his legs and arms, until one jumps for his face.
We lunge for the door, but there is no way we can get through the guards until a gust of wind fills the hallway with a rank smell, accompanied by the screeching of bats and a reverberating buzz not unlike a swarm of bees. The disoriented guards fall to their knees, stunned, while bats pelt their heads and backs.
Miraculously, the creatures leave me and Kye alone and we run. Clasping hands, we manage a speed made possible only through sheer adrenaline, down the hall, into the casino, out the door. Everything we pass is a blur as we run for what feels like miles through parking lots and around buildings and tourists. I want to turn around to see if we’re being followed, but Kye drags me with him until my breathing is ragged and the pain in my side forces me to slow down.
“Come on, Abby, we have to keep going.”
“I can’t,” I wheeze. “I’m too tired. I hurt.”
“Just a little farther.” Kye breathes more evenly than I, but slows so I can keep up. When we first arrived, there were taxis all over the place, but now that we really need one, I can’t see a single car.
We’re several miles from the hotel by the time we finally stop in an outdoor mall that’s closed for the night. I collapse on a bench and wrap both arms around my stomach, breathing hard. Kye sits next to me, stroking my hair. “Are you okay?”
“No.” I double over as pain shoots through my ribs. “You?”
He stretches his legs out, leaning back to stare at the stars. “I’ll be fine. I’m more worried about you.”
I try to straighten, then change my mind. “Oh man, I hurt.”
He pulls me into his lap, and I let him, because being held will help keep my mind off the ache. Once my breathing evens out and I can talk, I ask, “What happened back there?”
Kye picks up my hand and plays with my fingers the way he did on the bus. “Juri wanted your ring.”
“Yeah, I got that part.” I relax into him, leaning my cheek on his shoulder. “But why? And what did you do in that room?”
“The rats came from the crawl spaces and the bats and hornets were hanging out in the parking garage.” He shrugs. “Calling them was all I could think to do.”
“We’re lucky. It worked.” The rhythm of his heartbeat calms me, allowing me to release some of the pain with each ka-thump.
“Yes, it did.” Kye pinches the bridge of his nose like he has a headache. “I’ve been thinking about what we saw in the Cairn Elen, putting it together with some research I did while I was waiting for you to wake up. I have a theory.” He runs his hands through his artfully messy hair. “The Arawn Keys are powerful objects rumored to unlock an ancient prison that houses a demon army, but they have to be used all together. Over the years, hundreds of Gifted have attempted to find the Keys. I’m pretty sure that dagger in Juri’s office is one of them. That’s the only way it could’ve activated the Cairn Elen. So. There’s one Key located.”
Not that we’ll get our hands on it anytime soon. “If that’s true,” I ask, “why didn’t Mr. Akers tell us Juri has one of the Keys? Do you think he knows?”
Kye looks away, but I can see the tension in his jaw. “He must. They must’ve fo
und it together. Why else would he insist we come here?”
“No. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t keep it from us.”
“If he did, there’s a lot more to it.”
“Like how their friendship ended and how many Keys they found.”
“And where they ended up, and which ones were left to locate.” Kye shifts me off his lap so he can stretch out to lie lengthwise on the bench with me snuggled close.
A shooting star stripes the sky and I close my eyes, wishing I could talk to Gram. She would know what we’re missing. “What did he mean by the Ring of the Princess?”
“From what I gather, the original Elen lived in a place called Dryden, around four hundred years ago or something.” He pulls me closer when I shiver, wrapping me inside his jacket. I breathe deep, relaxing even more and ignoring my rumbling stomach.
Kye’s voice sounds sleepy. “Guess the king was a pretty popular guy, known for being fair. Diplomatic. People liked him, but they absolutely adored the queen. She was this raving beauty who loved the people, especially children. She had a strong Gift for premonition, which gave her visions of things to come.” He pauses, and I feel the weight of Kye’s words settle over me. “But more importantly, she had the Gift of Light. I don’t know much about Light, but it sounds like she could persuade enemies to become good and change loyalties and stuff. She could cheer people up and maybe even mend—though not Heal—broken hearts. Val says her Gifts were heart-based. Pretty rockin’ Gifts.
“But when she had Prince Theron, something happened to deplete her powers. She almost died. King Damon had an emerald pendant made to give her strength, and she always wore it, but she never completely recovered.”
I stifle a yawn and fight off a sudden heaviness in my eyes. “What happened to them?”
Kye runs his fingers up and down my arm on his chest. “The Prince spent a lot of time with Dryden’s Warrior Guards. Rhys, the Captain, treated him like a son. In fact, Rhys spent more time with Prince Theron than King Damon ever could. The king was a busy guy.” Kye leans his head on my hair. “Are you comfortable enough?”
“I’m fine.” I yawn. “Was Rhys married? Did he have his own children?”
“No. Rumor was he had his heart broken not long after being assigned to the Guard. His true love was promised to someone else, and Rhys couldn’t do anything about it. I guess he never recovered.
“Anyway, Rhys and Theron became inseparable. Then, during a hunt, Theron ended up lost. Three days later, they found him in the forest, and he had a maiden with him.”
Goosebumps rise on my arms. Something about the story strikes me. “Who was she?”
“No one knew. She came out of nowhere. But Theron fell in love with her, and they were soon engaged. Theron designed a diamond ring for the maiden—Raina—as a betrothal gift. She never took it off, even to sleep. It was said to have the power of true love.”
“You think my ring is four hundred years old?”
“I’m just saying it would make sense if Juri thinks it is.”
“I know it’s an antique, but it’s not that old. It can’t be the same ring.” It’s becoming difficult to keep my heavy eyes open. “I’m falling asleep. When do we have to be back to the airport?”
“We have a few hours. Go ahead and rest.” He strokes my hair and traces his fingers up and down my spine. “I’m sorry. I never intended for this to happen.”
I yawn. “It’s okay. Just make sure I’m awake when it’s time to go.” The world fades around the edges and my eyelids fall closed. “Tell me more about Theron and Raina.”
“Too tired. I’ll finish later.” He yawns. “We’re safe for now. Sleep.”
“I think I have to.”
Kye replies, but I’m already falling under the cloud of slumber and can’t comprehend his words. Sometime during the night, I dream he takes my hand in his and calls me his love—and I really, really like the sound of it.
EIGHTEEN
The Key
“Abby.” Kye jerks awake. “We should get to the airport.”
I sit up, blinking away the fog in my eyes, and try to rub out the throbbing bench slat indentations in my shoulder and back. The sky is turning a lighter shade of navy—sunrise isn’t far off. “What time is it?”
“Quarter to five.” Kye stands, stretches his arms over his head, and then offers to pull me to my feet. His eyes go soft as he brings my hand to his mouth, kissing my fingers above the ring. It warms to a soft glow.
My stomach rumbles as we walk toward the street. We still haven’t eaten. “So, bus or cab to the airport?” I ask.
“Cab.”
This trip has to be expensive. After considering my budget, I have to ask. “How much do I owe you for the plane tickets?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I am worried. How much?”
“It’s taken care of.”
“How? By whom?” Does he have a job?
“I have enough money. We’ll be fine.” He laces his fingers through mine and we head down the boulevard.
“You have money.” I turn to glance in the direction of the bench where we slept. “You couldn’t have mentioned that earlier?”
“Yeah, not so well-planned, was it?” His cheeks puff out as he exhales through his teeth. “In my defense, I’d hoped Juri would comp us rooms, or at least let us hang at the Luxor for the evening.”
“Good thing we didn’t.”
“Yeah. But I promise we won’t spend another night on a bench. As much as I enjoyed holding you, that thing sucked as a mattress.”
“Even though I enjoyed being held, I agree.”
He signals an approaching cab and then opens the door for me. “Come on. Let’s get outta here.”
The airport is crowded with early morning passengers as we check in and go through security. Once we’ve found our gate, I decide a trip to the ladies room is my top priority. No matter how hungry I am, hygiene is more important. After braiding my hair, brushing my teeth, and changing from my grimy T-shirt into a cable-knit sweater (purchased on clearance at the gift shop), I emerge feeling awake, alert, and infinitely more human.
Kye has cleaned up too, and has in his hand a pastry sack and two bottles of juice. “Breakfast is served.”
I sit next to him and choose a blueberry muffin from the bag. My mouth is full when I remember to thank him. “You’re my hero.”
“Remind me to bring you muffins every day.”
“You have no idea how badly I needed that.”
“Hard to miss.” He grins around a bite of his own muffin. “Luckily, it didn’t take much to vanquish the growling monster in your stomach.”
I glare playfully at Kye. “Yeah. I’d apologize, except I blame you.”
He scrunches his face into a frown—and I’m utterly charmed. “If you’re keeping a list, it’ll be holy-crap-long when we get home.”
“I’ll just keep track of the big stuff, then.”
The last drops of juice slide down my throat with a satisfying tang, and I toss the bottle in the trash as we line up to board, still flirting. Our plane lifts off the ground as the first rays of sun crest over the tops of the buildings, tinting the pale sky with shades of purple, pink, and gold.
Kye peers out the window with me. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Um-hm.” We’re cheek to cheek, and my heart races in anticipation, but his attention is focused out the window. Saliva pools beneath my tongue. Kye runs his hand up and down my arm as he leans back, his eyes dropping to my mouth as if he’s trying to make a decision.
I inch closer, licking my lips in anticipation.
Then he sits back.
He hasn’t kissed me—really kissed me—since the faery party. I’m starting to wonder if his earlier clinging was brought on by remnants of the faery enchantment. Stung by his rejection, I swallow and sit back, wincing when my ears pop and a tiny hammer drums inside my head.
The airplane seats are of the extreme straight-backed variety, but I
lean mine back the full three inches and close my eyes. Between the cold air, noise, and the crappy airline pillow, I can’t get comfortable. When frustration wins the battle with pride, I rest my head on Kye’s shoulder. As he did on the bus, he encircles me in his arms and covers us with a blanket. Sticking with what feels like a new habit, I drift off listening to the sound of his steady heartbeat.
A dark-haired woman stands in a stone doorway, a look of horror pasted on her face. Her hands fly to her mouth and she stifles a scream as a group of angry men drags a headless body—dressed in royal finery—through the corridor. Her skirt skims the floor as she backs into her room and slams the heavy wooden door, dry heaving.
Silent tears trickle down her cheeks as she searches for a place to hide, knowing there will be no escape. Something crashes in a room nearby and she knows the army will soon make a thorough search of her chamber as well. Her ring glows, and she rests a hand on her heart, relieved to know her true love still lives. For now.
With a new resolve, she dumps out the contents of a drawer, glancing behind her every few seconds. The soldiers are coming.
She removes strands of golden hair from a brush and rolls them into a ball in her palm, then retrieves vials from a drawer, opening some, tossing others aside. From each opened jar, a drop or two of liquid or a pinch of powder falls into her hand where she massages it into the hair. Satisfied, she rips a gem off her jeweled dress, dumps everything into a pestle bowl, and crushes it all together with a mortar.
The noises become louder and panic makes her throat feel thick. She opens her mouth, chanting—no words, just notes and sounds—tones of protection. The gems in her ring glow more brilliantly each time she passes her hand over the mixture. A smile lights her eyes. She will succeed.
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