Chronicles of Arcana (The complete collection books 1-4)

by Debbie Cassidy

  “You’re taking a shower,” he said calmly, water skating off his chiseled visage.

  I blinked against the water pattering against my face and nodded, my voice trapped in my throat.

  He pouted contemplatively. “So ... you’re not in mortal danger?”

  Oh, fuck. The ring, the fucking ring. A hysterical giggle crawled up my throat and exploded from my lips.

  His lips twitched and then we both burst into laughter. It lasted mere seconds and then a hot flush of awareness swept across my skin—my wet, naked skin, which he was up close and personal with. His shirt was soaked, the skin beneath visible through the now transparent fabric. A new kind of heat unfurled in my belly.

  “Wila?” His tone was pregnant with expectation.

  It was the first time he’d said my name. Not Miss Bastion, but Wila, and that combined with the intimacy of the situation set my blood on fire.

  I pressed a hand to his chest, intending to push him away, but my fingers curled against his taut flesh uselessly, absorbing his heat. “You should go.”

  “Look at me.” His voice was an echo reverberating inside my head.

  That voice, that compelling siren call of a voice. This was bad. Wrong. But my chin tilted as if of its own volition, and then I was trapped in his dragon gaze, spiraling out of control. My fingers clutched at his wet shirt, desperate to gain some kind of purchase, desperate to remove the obstruction of fabric, because he was inside me—in my mind, under my skin—tugging, drawing. I was melting, needing to be closer, while drowning in the essence of him—fire and brimstone and sweet almonds.

  “Oh, fuck. Wila.” His words were a rasping throb somewhere deep inside me. “What the fuck?”

  His fingers bit into my waist, and my feet left the ground. My back hit the tiles, and the roar of water blocked out everything else as his mouth descended on mine in a lip-crushing, tongue-tangling kiss. Almonds, he tasted of almonds and honey. Oh, God. Closer. I needed to be closer. As if hearing my silent plea, he lifted me up and wrapped my legs around his waist. There was only the harsh brush of his trouser fabric against me, the taut press of his chest against my breasts, his mouth, that clever, hungry mouth, and that tugging in my chest, sweet and delicious and ...

  Hungry.

  The haze that had fallen over me lifted slightly. Oh, God. This was no ordinary kiss. This was something else. Something sinister.

  A feeding.

  He was feeding off me and it felt amazing. Let him, let him have it. Were those my groans? He devoured them, rolling his groin against mine, his hard length pressing against me separated only by a thin layer of fabric. Sharp, electric pleasure radiated out from the point of contact, tightening in sweet torment until my lungs ached to take a breath. He dragged my lips between his teeth, sucking away the sting and then claiming my mouth once more. My pulse throbbed in my throat and wrists, and my heart slammed against my ribs. More. Please.

  A tiny voice whimpered in the back of my mind. No, this was wrong. Dangerous. The pleasure didn’t matter. It had to stop. He thrust against me. Oh, God. Oh ... No! The voice screamed, taking control. Summoning every ounce of willpower, I shoved at Valance’s chest, bucking against him to get free.

  He gripped me tighter, harder, his fingers digging in deep enough to bruise. Pain lanced up my back, and the spell was completely broken. Hurt. It hurt. I flailed, knocking against the shelf holding all the bottles and bath stuff. The clatter echoed against the tiles, and the edges of my vision bled to crimson.

  Something surged up inside me, molten and dangerous and fucking furious. The splinter and crack of wood was like a gunshot, and then Valance was torn off me. Azren’s roar was a primal thing as he shoved the prince out of the bathroom.

  Oh, fuck. Valance had tried to eat me, and not in a nice way. Oh, God. He’d actually... Azren, shit. I had to stop him from beating the shit out of his liege’s son. Legs like jelly, I climbed from the tub, grabbed a towel, and staggered into the hallway.

  Azren had Valance pinned to the wall, fist drawn back to lay a punch.

  Oh, shit. “Stop!”

  Azren paused mid-punch, bicep trembling.

  “Azren, you can’t. Elora will probably kill you if you hurt him.” I gripped his shoulder gently. “Please.”

  Valance’s gaze was dazed, totally out of it. He looked intoxicated. His attention drifted from Azren to me. He blinked slowly several times and then his slack expression morphed into something intense and shell-shocked.

  “Oh, fuck. Oh, fucking hell.” He vanished into thin air.

  ***

  The ruby ring sat in the center of the kitchen table. I nursed the mug of hot chocolate and stared at the innocuous-looking item of jewelry. Who’d have thought it could cause so much trouble? The world was still fuzzy around the edges.

  “It doesn’t fit anymore.” I picked it up and turned it over. “It adapted to fit me when Valance gave it to me, but now it’s too small. Have I put on weight?”

  “I think she’s in shock?” Trevor said.

  “My pinky was blue. I had to take it off, and we laughed, and then he ... he kissed me, and I wanted him to.”

  “That’s his power,” Azren said. “When the prince feeds, the victims die in ecstasy. You were lucky.”

  Lucky? “You saved me.” I looked up at him. “You were totally gonna kick his ass.”

  Azren’s jaw ticked. “Yes. I forgot my place and you reminded me.” He ground out the words through clenched teeth.

  “I think you’re my hero.” My grin hurt my cheeks.

  “No. I take it back,” Trevor said. “She’s not in shock, she’s high.”

  “Endorphins,” Azren said. “The prince’s saliva is filled with them. It will wear off soon. Just a few more minutes.”

  “Drink your hot chocolate, Wila,” Gilbert urged.

  I sipped and blinked and sipped, and slowly the world came back into focus, bringing a godawful headache with it.

  “Oh, fuck.” Setting the mug down, I pressed my hands to my temples.

  “It will pass,” Azren said tightly. He wouldn’t look at me. Why wouldn’t he look at me?

  Sure enough the headache receded. “How many times have you seen this?”

  “Enough,” Azren said.

  “I don’t get it. The first time we met he said I smelled off, inedible. I don’t ...”

  “It wasn’t your flesh he was feeding off,” Azren said. “It was your soul. I’m assuming that tasted fine to him.” His tone was laced with bitterness.

  My hands went to my chest. “I felt it. I felt him taking it.”

  “Luckily, neph souls aren’t so easily drained,” Azren explained. “He would have needed to feed for several hours to kill you.”

  “But why attack me now? He’s been around me several times, and I know he doesn’t want to hurt me.”

  “You do?” Trevor’s voice rose incredulously.

  Now that my equilibrium was returning, now that it was possible to view the situation in a clear light, I was certain he’d never meant to hurt me. He’d somehow lost control.

  “He saved my life under the mausoleum, and there’s no way he’s gonna piss off his mother by ending me. No. This was a slip up. I saw the shock on his face.” He’d looked devastated.

  “As much as I am loath to admit it, I agree,” Azren said.

  “Wait,” Trevor said. “Weren’t you the one who wanted to punch his face in?”

  Azren exhaled through his nostrils. “I still do. But upon reflection, he was not himself. Valance is usually in complete control when feeding, and yet he looked dazed. Almost as if he was intoxicated.”

  That was all very well, he’d messed up. We’d all been there. Okay, I’d never accidentally snacked on one of my colleagues before, but each to their own, however … “What’s stopping him from losing his head again? I mean, like it or not, he’s kinda part of the team, even if that part is affiliated to she-who-shall-not-be-named.” I leaned in conspiratorially. “I actually get the imp
ression there’s no love lost between those two, but that may not stop him from snacking on me again.” I pressed my lips together to halt the ramble. Maybe I was still a little high off the endorphins.

  “You don’t get to be alone with him,” Azren said simply.

  “He’s right,” Gilbert said. “Someone will be with you; if not one of the others, then me. I’m surprised The Collective aren’t knocking on our door right now.” He sounded perplexed.

  “Oh, shit. The Treaty.”

  “Yes,” Gilbert said. “Valance feeding on you was a breach, and the Arcana magic in the Treaty would have detected it.”

  “Unless the wards Noir installed are somehow interfering,” Trevor pointed out.

  Azren was looking from me to Trevor, his brow creased in confusion. “Do you really believe the Arcana magic in the Treaty is used to detect every single breach?”

  I met his gaze. “Um. Yeah.”

  He shook his head, lowering his gaze to the table. “I suppose it makes sense that the Arcana would perpetuate that misinformation. But ask yourself this, if the Treaty could detect every breach, then why didn’t it detect the rogue Shedim?”

  My mouth formed an ‘o.’ “Crap. Wait. Then what the heck does the Treaty do?”

  “It’s an agreement that we won’t cross the border without an official invite or authority. And yes, your Arcana Institute probably has methods in place to check that we keep to that rule, however those methods wouldn’t extend to Arcane detection of every breach of contract. That power is being hoarded for a time when there is evidence of a Draconi plot to attack. In that case, the Arcana would release a burst of magic that would wipe out the Westside completely.”

  We had that much power? “I don’t understand ... if the institute has that much power, then why didn’t they just use it at the beginning, when the breach first opened and your people spilled into our world.”

  Azren’s eyes darkened. “Consequences.” His lips curved in a sardonic smile. “The expulsion of that much power would probably have negative consequences for the Arcana. Maybe they’d lose their power for some time. Maybe they’d damage whatever connection they have to the arcane.” He shrugged. “Whatever the reason, they’re holding it over us as a last resort.”

  It was why Elora hadn’t gone to The Collective about the rogues. She couldn’t risk them finding out that a bunch of Shedim had breached the treaty just in case The Collective saw it as an act of war. Instead, she’d sent Azren to clean up the mess and contracted him to be my employee.

  Well, that explained why The Collective weren’t knocking down the door. But another question was bugging me now, one that had cropped up a week ago and never been answered. “Why is Valance helping us? Covering for us about the loss of the dagger, warning us about the contract, that kind of thing.”

  Azren was silent for a long beat. “You were correct in your earlier assumption. There is no love lost between the prince and his mother. She is far from maternal.” He blinked as if surprised by the words he’d uttered. “Valance would happily act to undermine her.”

  “Okay, I feel there’s more to this revelation.”

  His lips twisted, and he closed his eyes, breathing evenly in and out of his nose. “There is no more that I can tell you. Just that if there is a way for him to derail her plans, then I am certain he would employ it.”

  “But this was his idea. You had me by the scruff of my neck, shaking me like a bag of bones, and then Valance whispered in his mummy’s ear, and then bam she comes out with the whole contract deal.”

  Azren frowned. “Maybe he merely wished to spare your life?”

  “Well, there’s only one way to know for sure and that’s to get him to answer the damn question without employing any evasion tactics. He owes me.” I glanced at the clock above the cooker. “Shit, look at the time. I need to get dressed for the party.”

  Azren gave me an astounded look. “You’re not seriously still considering going, are you?”

  “Drop it, Az,” Trevor said. “This is the woman who got swallowed whole by a Karnworm and cut her way out from the inside. Covered in green gloop and entrails, she was. A near-death experience, it was, and what did she do? Shower, put on her glad rags, and head out for a pint. This soul sipping, it ain’t got nothing on the Bastion files.”

  Oh, damn, I’d almost forgotten about the Karnworm. The ugly fucker had been snacking on the Southside canine and feline population, and it’d almost had me for supper.

  Azren still didn’t look too keen. “You’re insane, you know that?”

  I scooted back my chair and moved around the table. “Thanks for the memo. Look, you don’t have to come. I know it may not be your scene ... you know, all that F-U-N.”

  He gave me a deadpan look. “The fun on my side of the border would probably kill you. I’m sure I can handle your definition.”

  Gilbert let out a choked laugh.

  “Oh, is that a challenge?” I braced my palm on the table beside him and leaned in.

  He lifted his chin, meeting my glare head-on, but there was no playfulness in his expression, only a probing intensity. “It’s all right to take a moment to fall apart.”

  His words poked at my vulnerable center, the part that was usually hidden under a coat of armor but that the incident with Valance had yanked to the surface. “Yeah? And how often do you allow yourself to fall apart?” Anger flared in my chest. “Just because I don’t have a dick doesn’t mean I need to melt down every time a fucking monster gets his claws into me.”

  The part of me that knew he meant well was drowned out by years of instinct. When things got bad, we put on our big-girl boots and grabbed another case, and then another, until the bad feelings just went away. There was no point in dwelling on how vulnerable I’d been in response to Valance’s attack. It wouldn’t change anything. It was over. I was okay. Time to move on. I swept from the room and ran smack bang into a frail-looking woman hovering in the foyer.

  “Oh, my. Oh, dear, I fear you’re closing up for the night.” She flapped her hands in agitation.

  Perfect. “Hey, it’s okay. I have a few minutes. What can I help you with?”

  She raised her red-rimmed eyes to mine. “Oh, my dear, I do believe I have a monster in my attic.”

  Chapter 4

  The old lady lived alone on the edge of Southside in the ramshackle homes that were more deathtrap than sanctuary. Shingles from the roof littered the ground outside the building, and the windows were covered in grime, but despite its sorry state of disrepair, this building would have been beautiful in its heyday.

  Instructing the old woman to remain outside, Azren and I headed up the worn stairs, past dust-covered frames of family portraits containing happy people and past peeling floral wall paper. We hovered under the hatch that led to the attic. I shifted from foot to foot, trying to ease the pinch in my toes. First my hands and now my feet? What was this? A late growth spurt?

  “Why are we here?” Azren asked roughly. “You don’t really believe there’s a monster up there.”

  “It’s unlikely. But she’s scared, so there must be something—maybe a bird or bats. If we can help, then we should." Plus, it gave me something to focus on aside from being soul sucked by Valance in the shower.

  Azren studied me for a long beat. “I doubt she has any money to pay you.”

  “Do I look like I go around extorting grannies?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I thought you were running a business.”

  Ooo. He was throwing the words back at me that I’d hit him with when we’d first met. “Yeah, I am. My business. So I get to do whatever the fuck I want. I can think of worse things to do than helping put an old lady’s mind to rest.”

  “There are no old ladies on my side of the border.” He said the words softly, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

  “What?”

  He averted his gaze for a second as if suddenly uncomfortable. “The elderly and feeble serve no purpose and so they are culled.�
��

  Wait, had he just said ... “Culled? You mean you kill them?” Okay, so my voice had risen several octaves, but this was ridiculous. “How could you do that?”

  He shrugged. “They have a duty to remove themselves from society, and when the time comes, they enter the Sleeping.”

  “Where you kill them.”

  “They are put to rest, yes.”

  “Killed. They are killed. Come on, say it. You kill old people.” I threw up my hands. “Not using the word doesn’t change the facts.”

  His jaw clenched. “We do not have the resources and connections to the rest of this world that Arcana City has. Our resources are limited, and those unable to contribute to the functioning of society are a burden. It’s simply a fact.”

  “Nope, uh-uh. There is no justifying murdering old people.”

  The lines of his face tightened and sharpened as his glamour weakened in the face of his anger. Yeah, he was pissed, but so was I.

  “I don’t make the rules, I follow them,” he snapped.

  “Yeah? Then maybe it’s time you stopped being a fucking puppet and thought for yourself.”

  His eyes flared bright green, and his face rippled as the glamour fell away, giving me a glimpse of the monster beneath. It lasted less than a second, but the flash was a cruel reminder of who I was dealing with. He was a demon. Elora’s right-hand man, and no matter how close we grew, he’d always be loyal to his liege and her inhumane methods.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Forget it. Forget I said anything.”

  His glare softened. “It’s not as easy as a click of your fingers.”

  I reached for the string attached to the concertina folded ladder pressed to the hatch. “It could be.” Why was I still trying to influence him? He was what he was, but my mouth refused to quit, because, heck, he couldn’t be the bad guy. He wasn’t. “Things could change if enough people stood up to Elora.”

  His ire was back in an instant. “How can you be so naive? Challenging the order would bring nothing but war. Why do you think Elora bound you to the contract? Why do you think we’ve been charged to find the rebels?” He stepped closer, and I held my ground. “The rebels challenge the order. If left unchecked, they could bring us to war once more.”