Guardian's Redemption

by Marie Harte

  Arim’s gaze narrowed. We’ll speak of this later. Say nothing to your mother. She doesn’t look as if she can handle any more stress.

  Darius discreetly nodded, shooting his mother a concerned glance, and turned back to Marcus to agree with his brother’s latest tangent about instilling a curfew at night, to help protect the people from Netharat invaders.

  While his nephews came up with a game plan to better secure their people, Arim tried to see past his sister’s inner shields. How injured was she? Like Lexa, Ravyn had fallen during an attack by ‘Sin Garu. For weeks she’d lain unconscious, her energy perilously low. None of the Light Bringer sorcerers had been able to help her. Until Lexa had done something to restore his sister’s power.

  Arim still didn’t understand it and planned to fully interrogate Lexa when he found her again. Why would she do something so out of character? For that matter, why help his family at all? She’d saved Ravyn, Aerolus and Cadmus. Had turned both her Dark Lord kin into blooddrinkers, weakening them substantially, and even had a hand in B’alen’s death. But why? There had to be a sinister motive in there somewhere, something he didn’t see, or couldn’t see, because he was still too damned close to her.

  Despite the years and battles between them, the passion that existed whenever they neared was still in force. Hell, taking care of her had soothed him in ways he couldn’t explain, even as it bothered him to still feel for the murderous—he glanced at Jonas—alleged murderous, Dark Lord.

  Why am I concerned with Lexa when my sister sits wounded before me? Shaking free of his traitorous desire that should no longer exist for the enigma constantly taunting him, Arim focused again on Ravyn. The idea floating in her mind shocked him into speech.

  “You know who the next overking of Tanselm will be?”

  The room fell silent, and all eyes turned to Ravyn.

  Arim didn’t understand why she hadn’t told him before now. Like Arim, Ravyn possessed a strong background in sorcery. A Valens by birth, who up until a few months ago had kept their sibling bond a secret from even her sons, Ravyn commanded Tanselm’s magic and wielded it with astonishing skill. She had particular talents that ebbed and flowed as she aged. The telekinesis that had once been her strongest gift had faded decades before, but her telepathy was still powerful. She still commanded the lightning her husband, a powerful Wind Mage much like his son Aerolus, had mastered when alive. And apparently, Ravyn could still prognosticate—an ability she’d passed on to Cadmus not long ago.

  “Mother?” Darius croaked. “Who is to be the next overking? Which of us has sowed the next Royal Four?”

  “Tell us, please,” Aerolus said with a smile, seemingly the only Storm Lord not panicked at thoughts of ruling all of Tanselm.

  “She isn’t pregnant yet, and until she gives birth, I’ll say no more.” Ravyn glared at Arim. I’ll talk to you about this later. Had I wanted any of you to know, I’d have said something. Now stop digging through my mind. You’re giving me a headache trying to repel the intrusion.

  Arim released his mental hold on his sister, shocked she would have kept anything from him at all. From the time he’d been old enough to understand their place in the world, they’d bonded with a strength that had withstood curses, spells and familial deceit. Even while Faustus had lived, Ravyn and Arim had maintained that blood bond, though in secret from all but her husband.

  The Valens name, once synonymous with fear and death, had undergone a transformation centuries ago after Ravyn had recreated herself in order to marry the man she loved, King Faustus Storm. Even so, she’d pledged to remain faithful to her brother, her last living blood relative, and she had. Keeping their relationship secret had protected him as much as it had helped her. Only recently had they shared their relationship with his nephews, and only with the Royal Four and their affai.

  For Ravyn’s ceaseless selflessness and dedication to helping those in need, Tanselm had chosen Ravyn to birth the next generation of Storm Lords. Not only that, but the land and the Light had graced Arim with the power to protect his sister and her children, so that they might one day return the favour, defending Tanselm.

  Arim, however, had not protected his sister well enough. His inattention when it was needed most had given ‘Sin Garu the opportunity to kill not only Ravyn’s beloved husband, but nearly herself as well. Arim took a deep breath, trying to release the rage roiling within. He would do none of them good by sinking in self-blame, not when he had a kingdom, and a sister, to protect. Logically he knew he could never have protected Faustus from the insidious Djinn poison that had killed him, considering it had been served by a loyal servant. Emotionally, Arim couldn’t help second-guessing the measures he’d once ordered to protect the king.

  “Sorry,” he said to her softly before standing and addressing the others. “I’m going to take Ravyn back to her chambers. The rest of you, continue to plan our defences. And Cadmus, focus. You need to see when ‘Sin Garu plans to hit next.”

  Cadmus nodded.

  Arim took Ravyn by the arm and helped her to her feet, concerned when she glared but said nothing about not needing his help. The fact that she clearly did spoke volumes, and her sons noted as well, their faces strained with the knowledge.

  “Jonas,” Arim continued, walking with Ravyn from the table. “Stay here and gather the Sarqua Djinn. I want you and Cadmus to keep a sharp eye on your people. I have a feeling one of them is not as innocent in all this as he appears.”

  “Why do you say that?” Jonas didn’t protest the accusation, and his lack of defence against his Dark brothers told Arim what he’d wanted to know.

  “Just keep a sharp eye out. In the meantime, the rest of you watch your affai. ‘Sin Garu has thus far failed in his attempts to prevent the next coming of the Storm Lords. But if he harms any of your women before they conceive, Tanselm will fall.”

  Ravyn nodded beside him. “I’ve seen this possibility. It’s not pretty. You must take care with my new daughters.”

  Darius nodded. “We will, Mother.” His gruff voice softened as he stared at her hand clutching Arim’s forearm for support. “Now why don’t you let the Tetrarch take over the city’s protection and get some rest? You must remain strong. We still have need of our overqueen.”

  “And of our mother,” Aerolus added softly, his eyes bright. “Please, go with Arim. I’ll send Alandra to you soon.”

  Arim thought about it. “No. Keep her in the east with the Aellei. She’s safer there. Cadmus, the same goes for Ellie. Jonas, play bodyguard, you and the select Djinn you can trust.”

  Jonas nodded, his expression tight.

  “Marcus and Darius,” Arim continued, “send Tessa and Samantha to the keep to help your mother. Ravyn, don’t argue.” He halted her objection before she started. “This will keep both affai safer than they would be without you. And they won’t argue if you tell them they’re needed.”

  Darius raised a brow at Arim. You want Samantha and Tessa with Mother to keep her safe, or to keep them safe and out of the way?

  Both. And despite my reasoning, the plain truth is that your mother needs to take her mind off her worries. Having her daughters near comforts her. It makes her think of babies and a future instead of the bleak promise of Darkness over the land.

  “Good idea.” Darius nodded with vigour. “Mother, tell Samantha how much you need her with you. It would put me at ease to know she’s safe with you. She’s a little bloodthirsty when it comes to setting fire to invading Netharat,” he said with pride.

  Marcus agreed. “Tessa will listen to you over me. For some reason, she questions everything I tell her.” But he didn’t sound displeased.

  Cadmus snorted. “That’s because you don’t ‘tell’ her anything. You order her around.”

  “I do not.” Marcus grinned, his blue eyes lighting with pleasure. “I lovingly suggest. I am, after all, her lord and master.”

  “’Lord and Master?’ Please. She’d kick your ass. From what I hear, the master thing is
more Aerolus’s department,” Cadmus ragged, earning a flush from the tight-lipped Wind Mage.

  Arim couldn’t help staring. He’d once overheard Alandra saying something of the sort to Ellie, and the two had shared a wicked laugh, but he’d believed her to be joking. Apparently, his nephew really was quite ‘masterful’ in bed.

  He winked at Aerolus. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

  Ravyn coughed, not managing to hide her laughter, and tugged Arim away from the others. “Before Aerolus gets any redder, let’s go back to my chambers. We have a few things to discuss in private.”

  Arim teleported them both to her room. Ravyn had never believed that he no longer cared for Lexa, so he was fully prepared to stave off any more questions about Lexa and his nonexistent feelings for the woman. He was shocked to see Ravyn’s dead husband, Faustus, shimmering with the glow of the afterlife, waiting for them with open arms.

  Chapter Three

  Seattle

  Lexa’s fury gave her the magical strength to flip Sava over the couch onto his handsome ass, the golden strands of his hair flying over his face. “The next time you invade my memories without permission, I’ll do worse than muss that pretty hair.”

  “Duly noted.” Sava groaned. Once on his feet, he ran his hands over his hair with pleasure, unable to resist her compliment. The Aellei were so typical. Inhumanly beautiful, tricksters of the universe, and so utterly vain as to be comical.

  Sava stretched. “Now that you’ve gotten that out of your system, ready to return to Tanselm? I’ll even go with you. I need to talk to Arim about what happened at that mall.” He said the word with disdain. “Imagine purchasing pre-fabricated wares in an open forum. So incredibly common.”

  Lexa couldn’t help grinning. “You’re cute when you’re arrogant.”

  “Cute?” He looked affronted. “Try incredible. Magnificent. Godly.”

  “Yeah, yeah. All that. But I’m not returning to Tanselm yet. I have things to do here.”

  “Like what?”

  Like lick my wounds. Like try to get a handle on my weird libido that flares whenever Arim’s around, even after three hundred freakin’ years. “I’m not fully healed yet—”

  “Which you’re never going to be without help.”

  “—and until I am, I need to gather my strength.”

  “No, you need to grab that Light Bringer by the balls and make him see the truth.”

  “What?”

  Sava had the oddest manner of throwing urban slang in with his archaic rhetoric.

  “The truth that you and I have always known. That you’re not as Dark as you pretend to be, or even as you want to be. You didn’t kill Muri and Esel anymore than you could stop crying at the sight of Sercha mutilated beyond recognition,” Sava said bluntly. “We both know who killed them.”

  “No, I don’t.” She honestly didn’t. At one time, she’d thought ‘Sin Garu had murdered her hapless family. After some careful digging, she’d found that to be untrue. “I’m not discussing this,” she added coldly, getting well and truly pissed at the Aellein king trying to stir painful memories best left buried.

  “Lexa,” Sava said gently, returning to her on the couch. He sat across from her on her solid mahogany coffee table. “Until you put it to rest, you’ll never be free. With or without your soul intact.”

  He brushed her hair back from her cheek, his fingers frosting as she allowed her anger to bleed over into the physical.

  Shaking his hand, he clenched it tightly into a fist. “I’m not going to argue with you about this. Either you go to find Arim before night falls, or I’m dragging you with me to Tanselm. I’ve kept out of it for years, letting the two of you knock each other over with magic so in tune, it’s a wonder you haven’t been fucking each other senseless with every stroke of anger between you.”

  Lexa flushed at his crudity, and the jerk laughed.

  “Tell me you don’t desire him with every fibre of your curvy little body,” he murmured, his gaze roving over her with appreciation. “If I didn’t know for a fact that Ini was your mother, I’d doubt your Dark Lord influence. You’re pretty enough to be an Aellei, or even a lesser Djinn. But you have Ini’s eyes, as much as that must pain you.”

  “Nothing pains me, Sava.” She smiled, the expression absent in the icy gaze she deliberately gave him. “I’m a Dark Lord. We’re inured to pain, didn’t you know? We feed on it, like the carrions of the universe we’ve been bred to be.” She pushed his arm aside when he would have touched her knee. In comfort. She wanted to snarl. As if she needed his pity.

  For a while, she’d welcomed him. Been glad to find a friendly face amidst a world that didn’t notice her, visited by creatures that wished her serious harm. Now she remembered why she’d stayed away from the Aellei, and from Sava himself. That press of cloying sentiment, of like and affection, led to powerful emotions that had once crushed her almost to nothingness.

  Lexa had no plans to return to the wounded little girl ripped from her world. To the naïve, trusting fool who’d thought love could conquer prejudice and fear. How wrong she’d been then, and how wrong she’d be now to embrace such foolish affection.

  “I think you’d better leave.”

  Sava stared at her, his dark eyes flashing into a white so bright it was as if looking into a mirror. Oh, so she’d annoyed him, had she?

  “If I find you’ve mentioned my whereabouts to Arim, I’ll curse you with magic you’ll never break. Dark magic.” She paused for effect, staring at his head. “Your golden tresses will never grow back.”

  Sava’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “You little witch. You’d curse me for trying to help you?” He quickly stood, surprising Lexa with the menace oozing from his being. For all that Sava could intimidate, he was still a Shadow Dweller. But right now, he felt as Dark and powerful as a Dark Lord, or the Night forbid, as righteous as a Storm Lord. “Fine. Wither away to nothing while your brother takes over Tanselm.”

  A low blow, referring to ‘Sin Garu as her brother. Lexa had made it clear years ago she wanted no ties to that malevolent creature.

  “Don’t come crying to me when it’s too late to save yourself from the Malinta demons. Because I’ve been there before, Lexa, and the pain you suffered is nothing compared to a few hundred years in the Pit.”

  He winked away into the between before she could say anything, and she stared in surprise at the empty space before her. Sava had been imprisoned in hell? How had she never known that? And how old was he if he’d been there for hundreds of years?

  As far as she knew, he’d been alive and well in Tanselm and Aelle since she’d known him. When she’d first met Sava, she had been young, a mere ten years old. She’d assumed Sava was the same. She couldn’t see her friend, or maybe ex-friend, in the bowels of the Pit.

  Lexa shuddered, remembering the screaming and dread welling from that bleak area surrounded by cursed rocks in the middle of demon hell. The demons had recoiled when touching the stones, and went so far as to give the entire area a wide berth. Sava had been jailed there?

  For a moment she felt bad about refusing his help. Then she remembered Arim’s scorn, the disbelief and hatred on the faces of those Light Bringers she’d once called friends. People she’d opened herself up to. People she’d trusted.

  No, a Dark Lord’s best friend was herself. She’d do well to remember that if she wanted to outlive ‘Sin Garu and the Netharat. Come Light or Dark, Lexa would make it out of this tangle with her feelings intact. She rubbed at the ache deep within her. Her soul, however, was another matter entirely.

  * * * *

  Jonas stared with consternation at Sava—apparently unconcerned at being caught uninvited in Tanselm’s northern territory—as he paced back and forth in Jonas’ room. While the king of Aelle recounted his meeting with Lexa, he raged, seeming to grow taller. Jonas watched with both awe and amusement as Sava swelled with fury.

  “You want to keep it down? Need I remind you I’m barely tolerated in this
place, much like you scheming Aellei?”

  Sava’s eyes glittered with anger.

  Jonas shrugged, unconcerned with the male’s power. He was impressed, but like all Djinn, he had little tolerance for royalty. Jonas didn’t even treat his own leader with reverence. He liked and respected Ethim, but he’d never bowed to his king and never would. “I told you she’s a handful.”

  “Stop acting so damned superior. I know she’s a handful. I’ve been around the woman since she was a child. Don’t tell me you think you know her better.” Sava’s glare turned as cold as ice.

  The energy in the Aellei’s being fed the Dark within Jonas, and he warmed with delight. “Ah. That rage feels really good. Not that I’m encouraging this displeasure, mind you.” Jonas grew tipsy on Sava’s energy. “I did try to tell you she’d reject your help. You’ve known her for years, but you haven’t spent much time with her recently. Why do you think I didn’t grab her when I sensed her at the mall?”

  “Because she might have killed you if you had?”

  Jonas chuckled. “There is that. I knew she didn’t want to deal with Arim yet. Not until she’s fully healed.”

  Sava’s brows met in worry, his mood growing dimmer, his energy richer. Jonas forced himself not to absorb any more from the Aellein king and concentrated on the wrongness he could see in sparks and lights in Sava’s flickering aura.

  “Sava? What aren’t you telling me?”

  The man came to a stop a few feet from Jonas. “We have a major problem, Jonas. My people and yours have felt Tanselm’s rumblings for weeks now.”

  Jonas nodded. That’s how he and Sava had first met. Tanselm clearly had a thing for the Aellein king, and for Jonas, though he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Flattered, of course, but also a little worried. The sentient land had a way of loosening her magic. Suddenly, Storm Lords were marrying Darklings. Sava spent more time in Tanselm than in Aelle. Light mixed with Dark. Night help them all if Jonas would be forced to wed a Light Bringer.