Mystic Realms: A Limited Edition Collection

by Nicole Morgan

  A week too early.

  The transference was happening.

  Stop fighting this and we’ll co-exist in peace. Your sire fought it, too, and lost his mate. I am you, just another facet—something more. Go back to our mate. All will be sooo goooood.

  The taste of Saia still on his tongue, Riley groaned with unfulfilled need. At times, he liked to dominate in bed, made no excuses for it. But this—this was a burning desire to restrain and devour. The bastard inside him wanted to consume her. It was what it did.

  “It’s the way we are,” it said. “Your needs are darker now.”

  Over my dead fucking body!

  Riley flashed again, but couldn’t get away from the thing hammering inside his skull, crushing his mind. He wasn’t going anywhere near his mate while this shit rode him.

  Damn his sire! Was this so he’d be forced back to Stygia? Not fucking happening.

  He yanked his cell from his pocket, and with shaky hands, made a call. “I’m going to be unavailable for a while. Guard her with your life.”

  “Aye, my lord,” Ikaria responded.

  He rang off. Shoved the phone back into his pocket.

  With his skin stretched taut like an elastic band, his mind ruptured into a whirlpool, along with his brain. His erratic thoughts scattered into a thousand fragments then reformed with fierce, sharp focus.

  Through a crimson blur, he scanned the area around him. Yup, lots of dark buildings. Perfect for what he wanted. A fetid, sulfuric scent burned his nose, and he inhaled deeply. Caligos.

  Ohhh, yeah, they would do. He swaggered up the alley, dragging a fingernail against the rough wall. The spark of pain emerging from his fingertip and the harsh scraping sounds barely made an impact. Seconds later, he drew to a stop.

  Well now. He eyed his prey. Two thick, swirling, black veils of mist trying to inhabit some poor human sod at the same time.

  “That’s not real sporting, is it?”

  Both half-submerged into their dazed victim, the Caligos stilled. Bastards didn’t eat, but emotions were fair game.

  “Ménage, huh? Who knew you things rolled that way?”

  Confusion thickened their emotion-drugged mind. Since the mortal was already done for, Riley leaped at them, punched the one on his right. It didn’t even hurt—felt way too good. With both Caligos trapped inside their human host, they would feel every bit of pain. He spun around and kicked at the corporeal form. The body stumbled.

  The Caligos rushed to attack him, two shapeless black mists trailing from the human’s mouth.

  “Oursssss.” The disembodied voices floated to him.

  “Of course, he is,” Riley drawled, dark laughter echoing in the alley.

  He didn’t care about that mortal, cared only about one. A female with hair like miles of black silk. He craved her.

  Go back and let’s take her.

  Fuck off! Anger and absolute possessiveness strummed through his psyche. He hated this trespasser inside him. With a vicious right hook, he sent the human with the two Caligos stumbling. A single thick swirl of mist escaped from the human’s body this time.

  Riley lashed out again. Like a blade, his sharpened talon sliced across the Caligo’s human throat. The abomination fell to its knees.

  A wave of his hand, flames burst out and consumed the body.

  The escaped Caligo, a formless shape, hid in the shadows, unable move as fast in its true state.

  With his mind, Riley willed the mass to him.

  It folded in on itself and returned, wobbling to him, its disembodied voice slow and raucous. “No ennnnd…no ennnnd…” it pleaded, its shape hovering between a shapeless black mist with a bloated middle and a hideous human with a bulging belly.

  Obviously, it had already devoured some poor sucker to be able to take his form, even if for a few minutes. “Go back…Gehenna…no return.”

  Back to the pits of Hell? Yeah, right. A shitload of lies. But its soliloquy was top form, even for an amorphous shape-shifting scourge.

  Riley flung out a hand, releasing a spear of flame, engulfing the black mass. Its ear-splitting shriek resonated in the alley, then absolute silence.

  Absently, Riley glanced around. Yeah, the city could do with a bit of cleaning.

  “You cut a fine line, Sin,” a cool voice drawled from behind him.

  Riley turned and smirked. “Archangel, come to watch over me?”

  Raphael strolled closer, the foul, piss-filled breeze lifting strands of his silvery hair, a stark contrast to his pale, emotionless face.

  “Despite choosing a mortal as a mate,”—he got straight to the point—“you can no longer remain for long periods on this plane among humans. Same rules apply to vast powers.”

  “Stop throwing your panic around me, old one. I hurt anyone, then do your job—take me out. But FYI, my mate cannot exist for long periods without me, you do the math while I go find another scourge to annihilate.” Riley sauntered off.

  “There is a place safe for her, too.”

  Raphael seemed determined to stalk him. Fucking pain-in-the-ass angel.

  “Yeah?” Riley tossed over his shoulder. They thought him that stupid? These righteous fools didn’t want him on the human plane. If they thought he’d take Saia to some forsaken shithole, not happening. “Can’t stay and chat, but I’ll keep you in mind when I want to move house.”

  “You do that.” Raphael’s cold voice followed him. “You do that, Sin.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  A crash of thunder broke over the house, and Saia shot up from her armchair, too jittery to sit still. She switched off the television, unable to concentrate on anything, the gnawing hole in her tummy growing into a giant-size crater.

  Her bedroom door opened, she whirled around. “Riley?”

  “No. It’s just me.” Ikaria slipped into the room and shut the door behind her. More rumblings sounded in the distance. A burst of lightning brightened the room.

  “Is he back?”

  Ikaria shook her head, looking as worried as Saia felt.

  “It’s been three days. Where can he be?” She scrubbed her hands over her burning eyes. She hadn’t slept a wink since Riley had disappeared from her room.

  Her head heavy, she hurried to the window to peer out at the pouring rain. Puddles formed on the ground, drowning the plants in a deluge. Much like how she felt. Noon and so much rain. She couldn’t see anything in the silvery haze hovering over the garden. Almost like she existed in some fantasy world. Locked in a tower, never to leave…

  Christ, she couldn’t take this, not knowing what was happening to him.

  She spun around and rushed to her dressing room. Yanked on tights, boots, and a hip-length mossy green sweater. Grabbing her coat, she headed back to her room and halted at the sudden eerie silence. One could almost hear an ant sneeze. The rustling rain had ceased.

  “I’m leaving. I’ll see you later.”

  Ikaria spun around from the window. “No. Wait, you cannot go out alone.”

  Saia pulled on her leather coat. “I know it’s dangerous, but I have to find him.” The hollowness in her chest grew into a gaping hole. “He’s not answering his cell, and it’s killing me being stuck here, helpless—not knowing what’s happening.”

  “I’m troubled, too,” Ikaria finally admitted. “Réomer would never leave you alone this long. Whatever it is that keeps him from coming to you makes me uneasy. Let me change. I’ll help find him.”

  A half hour later, Saia impatiently maneuvered her Corvette through the heavy traffic, heading toward The Quarter.

  “If you can sense him, would I be able to?” she asked. She wasn’t immortal, so the thought was implausible, but she was desperate.

  Ikaria turned from watching the passing scenery and nodded. “I need to scan for his vibration. Our kind can sense each other when another is close. As his bonded mate, you’ll always feel him in here.” She touched her chest. “Immerse yourself with the emotions you feel for him and let it be your
guide.”

  That simple? She’d always felt him in her heart but thought it was just her being so stupidly in love with him. Inhaling a deep breath, she let her feelings expand. There. In the deepest part of her soul, she felt him…a shadowy light. But the essence was all him. It appeared dull, quiet.

  As she drew closer to his bar, she slowed down. It didn’t feel right. She slammed on the brakes, sent the Corvette screeching on the wet pavement. Ikaria grabbed the dash, staring at her wide-eyed.

  “Sorry,” Saia muttered. Ignoring the furious honking, she spun around, floored the gas, and bulleted out of The Quarter toward the I-10 west and the bayou.

  Two hours later, she pulled up under a canopy of trees and switched off the engine.

  Heavy moss hung limply over the treetops like thickly grown hay. She coiled her hair into a bun to avoid it snagging on branches, clipped it, and pulled on a beanie. Grabbing her tote, she got out of her car and inhaled a lungful of sulfuric air.

  Aww, crap! The stench made her belly roil. She shut the door and glanced around. An uneasy stillness hung over the place. A narrow trail led to the river’s edge. Several fallen trees were half submerged in the water, while others sprouted from the murky depths, their trunks bleached gray; all heavy on the moss.

  No, not that way.

  Trusting her instincts, Saia turned around and continued to search the tall cypresses fringing the river for another path.

  “Too many spirits linger here,” Ikaria murmured, staring into the thick, dark grove of trees.

  Really? Okay, not touching that one, well aware of the superstitions of the folks living in the bayou. She needed to find her man, not worry about unseen entities lurking about.

  Swiping at the buzzing flies, Saia took the trail leading away from the river. Her booted feet squished in the marshy ground as she trekked deeper into the forest.

  After a while, she stopped and dug through her pockets for a mint.

  “You okay?” Ikaria asked.

  “Yes.” She made a wry face. “Smell’s awful. Here.” She offered Ikaria a peppermint.

  “No, thanks.” Then she smiled. “I like those Tootsie Pops better. Let’s not linger. It will grow dark soon.”

  Ikaria started off again. She shoved the low-hanging branches, laden with moss and moisture from the rain, aside. Saia followed.

  The deeper they went, the quieter it grew. Occasionally, trees groaned and creaked, filling the silent forest with creepy sounds.

  “Wait.” Saia stopped and glanced around, slapping at the buzzing mosquitoes determined to get up close and personal with her plasma. Now that she’d opened her mind to Riley, her soul-link to him grew stronger. “I feel him. Where can he be? The trees here are so congested.”

  “One moment.” Ikaria closed her eyes and concentrated. “He’s close, but he remains silent. I can’t pick up on any conversations…just the rumbles of the trees.”

  Saia’s mouth dropped open. “You can hear trees speak? Of course, you can, you just said so. And I sound like a parrot.”

  Ikaria laughed. “It’s more a sense of feeling, not actual words.”

  She shook her head in wonder. How could anyone call them evil when they had such amazing gifts? But she knew, too, not every demon was like Riley and Ikaria.

  Saia trailed Ikaria as they made their way through the undergrowth, her leather coat the only barrier keeping her from becoming sopping wet.

  Nervous now, she examined the shadows in the trees. An eerie shiver skated over her skin, and the malevolent sensation slid through her again. Her ring heated. Several dark shadows detached and slithered onto the next tree trunk, staying in the gloom. Her iron stiletto wouldn’t kill them in this form. Her skin started to itch. Grimacing, she pulled the ring off and scratched her finger then realized she could still sense them—sense the sheer evil close by.

  “Ikaria…” Saia lowered her voice, dropping the ring into her pocket. “Are those Caligos?”

  Her friend continued walking. “Aye,” she said quietly. “I think this is their nesting ground. They like dark, wet places. The swampland’s ideal for them.”

  Crap. Her heartbeat sped up, but it didn’t slow her down.

  “Stay in the light and you’ll be safe. Even a smidgen of it will destroy them. It’s why they steal human bodies.”

  Saia didn’t need the warning. She had no plans to be a receptacle for those creatures. Riley was all that mattered, and she had to get to him.

  She swatted at the pesky insects humming around her. “Can you pick up on anything else out here?”

  Ikaria didn’t respond. She glanced around again, and her eyes narrowed. Clutching Saia’s hand, she set off at a fast trot.

  “What? What is it?” she panted, hurrying to keep up.

  “A human Caligo.”

  Trevor? No, he’d come charging for her if it was.

  “How long has it been trailing us?”

  “The moment we took the trail away from the river.” Ikaria pushed at the overhanging branches, and they found themselves at the edge of a small clearing. Even though the forest had claimed back its land, fresh destruction surrounded the ruins. Torn trees and shrubs littered the ground like a tornado had swept in and destroyed the place.

  Farther into the thicket stood an old, moss-covered, crumbling ruins. Vines grew heavily, their long arms spread over what had once been a colonial house. It appeared to have burned down ages ago. Trees protruded from where the ceiling had caved, but thickly grown moss added its own protection. And she felt Riley in there.

  Before she could move, Ikaria yanked her back into the safety of the thicket, her attention on the violent damages. “Wait, Saia. Réomer won’t be happy you’re here. I know. I know I can’t change your mind, but please be careful. Something happened in this place, I’m worried because I can’t pick up what it was.”

  Saia felt it, too. Darkness and rage cloaked the area. Her chest constricted. “Probably from a storm.” She brushed it off so Ikaria wouldn’t worry. “I’ll be fine. Go back to the house, don’t wait for me.”

  “No, that is not a good idea. I should remain.”

  “Riley won’t let harm come to me.” If Ikaria weren’t with her, he’d have no choice but to let her stay.

  “I know. It’s just that anything can happen here.” At her obvious concern, Saia hugged her.

  Sighing, Ikaria returned her embrace then reached into her boot and drew out a dagger. “Here, if you insist on staying, please keep this.”

  “I’m good.” Saia pulled out the curved blade from her tote. Why she kept this with her instead of her own iron stiletto, she had no idea.

  “Where did you get this weapon?” Ikaria snatched the blade, her pale eyes wide with shock. She traced the engraving on the hilt. “This seal—this is my Lord Wrath’s scimitar.”

  It was? Stunned, Saia glanced at the wicked-looking weapon. For the first time, she noticed the black stone embedded in the pewter guard. She’d never thought to use the dagger again, but being mated to Riley, it was a good thing she had it.

  “Wrath must have given it to me at the wyverns’ fight.”

  Ikaria frowned, handing it back. “You are not sure?”

  “No. I just sort of wished I had a dagger when those blood-demons nearly assaulted me, and it appeared in my hand.”

  Her friend smiled. “You are accepted by Réomer’s sire. Humans rarely are. It is said his power is engrained in the blade. A strike and you will kill your enemies. A summon, and he will appear.”

  Ugh, she so wasn’t summoning Wrath for anything.

  And he had been protecting her when he’d snatched her from the wyverns’ attack and taken her back to the fortress.

  “Don’t forget all the techniques I showed you during training,” Ikaria reminded her, pushing her dagger back into her boot. She pinned Saia with a resolute stare. “And stay alive. I don’t want to face your family should anything happen to you.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Saia turned to the
building and slipped the blade into her coat pocket. Inhaling deeply, she stepped out of the trees.

  Saia crossed the clearing to the crumbly, moss-covered ruin and pushed back the vines hanging over what had once been a doorway. Blinking, she peered into the darkness. As her sight adjusted, she saw more. Trees had taken root inside and had grown taller than the building. Late afternoon sun peeked from behind the clouds and dappled the place in an array of dancing light.

  She glanced up. Yep, most of the roof was gone. What remained sagged precariously in parts, topped with blackened moss that looked in danger of falling at any second.

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  At the sound of Riley’s voice, Saia whipped around, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs.

  Wearing only jeans, his body gleamed with a fine layer of sweat. He sat on the sill of what had once been a window, concealed from the outside by swaying vines. He leaned against the moldy frame. One booted foot planted on the ground and the other on the ledge, his arm resting on his bent knee, he continued to stare outside.

  No wonder she hadn’t seen him. Though he had a bird’s eyes view of everything around him—he had to have seen her. “Riley?”

  “Go back, Saia.” Cold. Emotionless.

  Her spine stiffened. “No. If you really didn’t want me here, you could have left when you sensed me coming. Or shut your soul’s link to me. Yes, I know. Ikaria told me. It’s how I found you.”

  “I don’t want you here.”

  “Yeah?” She forced back her scowl at his stony attitude. “Well, I’m not leaving. You’re just going to have to put up with me. You left three days ago with no word. I was worried sick about you.”

  He didn’t say anything or look at her.

  Too bad, he should know by now that she never gave up. She glanced around. On the far end of the decaying room, near a water-stained wall with some roof coverage, he’d spread his leather coat on the ground. Apparently, it doubled as his bed. Good, he could share it with her.