Ascension (Facets of Feyrie Book 2)

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Ascension (Facets of Feyrie Book 2) Page 19

by Zoe Parker


  The nymph dissolves in death and the sword vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

  Her eyes meet mine.

  ‘I did survive a long time on my own, ya know.’ She smirks and floats toward the surface the nymph in tow.

  I follow more slowly, double-checking that there are not any more. When I find nothing, I surface and jump onto shore.

  Adriem is holding the first nymph I tossed out, close enough to the water to give her hope of escape but far enough away to make sure she does not. It is cruel and comical, and well-deserved.

  Focusing my gaze on Iza yields yet another surprise. She is walking across the water as if it were solid ground, dragging the nymph along behind her by her hair. That is innovative.

  “Cool, eh?” she says, smiling at her newfound ability.

  Everyone standing at the shore watches her approach, curious as I am. I try to look into her thoughts and find yet another shield in place. I can feel intent churning behind the block, which means one thing for sure.

  She is going to do something I will not like.

  ‘Iza.’

  She unashamedly ignores me. “Auryn, come here please,” she calls.

  Auryn steps easily through the crowd, an inquisitive look on her face.

  “You wish me to kill her?”

  Iza shakes her head at the question and grabs Auryn’s hand.

  The nymph freezes, her mouth open in a silent scream. Iza’s face takes on a look of total concentration as her mouth tightens in pain. Before my eyes, the nymph starts to shrink in on herself as Iza pulls her very life energy from her.

  Which I know causes her pain. Iza cannot tolerate Light Magiks without pain.

  Auryn’s eyes widen as her face becomes more youthful and healthy. Iza tosses the dead nymph aside, releasing Auryn.

  “Give me the other one,” she says through a tightly clenched jaw.

  Adriem does readily. There is no disobeying that command.

  The nymph screams and fights, to no avail. Iza has her. Once again Iza pulls forth the life force, except this time she is changing it differently.

  Slinging her arm out, the sword appears. With eyes shining darkly, her aura flares to life. A purple and black mass of tentacled Magiks surrounds her. I do not like what she is doing, because I now know what it is. But I cannot stop her without it causing her even more pain.

  The sword begins to glow and Iza groans. Clenching her teeth so hard that muscles in her jaw stand out, she pours more Magiks into the sword. Swaying on her feet, she pushes it even more.

  The power she is using is incredible but also draining.

  Sweat beads on her forehead and upper lip, but what she is doing is working. The sword is starting to morph into the shape of a man. As she releases it, the form solidifies and there stands the naked, shivering form of Licar.

  Who is staring at Iza with absolute marvel.

  She tries to step forward and stumbles. Catching her, I lift her into my arms.

  What she did, she should not have been able to do. The miracle, because it is a miracle she wrought… cost her. Dearly.

  Auryn sobs loudly as she embraces her lost husband. She also looks at Iza with worship. Without a word, tears streaking down her face she drops to her knees, her head bowed. Like dominoes every single creature there does the exact same thing.

  “What did I tell you about the kneeling thing, Auryn?” Iza mumbles from my arms.

  The others are talking to Iza, but I block them out I am too busy looking at the white streak in her hair.

  ‘Do not ever do that again, Iza.’ The cost is too much—she gave of her own life force. Risked it for someone she barely knows. I am not pleased, at all. And if she ever tries it again, I will stop it.

  ‘She was dying. I couldn’t let one of my strongest die, Phobe. I could feel him in that sword, his soul.’

  “I would have never asked such a thing, my lady.” Auryn’s voice is breathless with emotion, as she stands, hands clasped with her lost mate.

  “I really want a milkshake.” Iza’s voice is barely above a whisper, but everyone hears.

  This creature in my arms sacrificed something of herself with no expectation of anything in return. And she wants a milkshake. That is all, a fucking milkshake.

  “Go get her a milkshake!” Auryn orders one of her children.

  Licar steps close to me, his eyes on Iza’s face.

  “We shall guard her with our lives, to the last one,” he proclaims.

  I nod my head, accepting on her behalf. Iza is sound asleep in my arms. In a roundabout way I am proud of her, but I am not happy about her hurting herself. I do not care who it is she is helping.

  Turning away from all the well-wishers, I head back into the Sidhe.

  Stupid, soft-hearted woman.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Phobe

  Harvest Moon came and went with no Romiel. His absence slightly surprises me. Something has happened to change his mind or send him running.

  Either way, he is not here.

  Iza is watching the lake again. She likes the water. She is thinking hard about her shifter child again, Knox. There are no shields currently between us.

  ‘He has done nothing strange or suspicious,’ I reassure her. I have been watching him and had others watching him.

  He spends much of his time with the boy Peter. Who, other than being oddly quiet, has done nothing out of character either. At least this time she is not sitting on the dock; I think she is a little wary after the nymph incident.

  Stopping beside her, I stare at her face and brace myself for the coming conversation.

  “It was you outside of the shack, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.” I see no reason to deny it.

  “How much did you hear?”

  “Enough.”

  Although she is bringing it up, she is not comfortable talking about it. In her eyes, this discussion is another task on her list that needs completed. A task she dreads.

  Later that night, I saw the child in her memories—the child that carried my name, the name no living creature has spoken before… and survived. How Iza knew it is a mystery.

  She was fourteen years old when it happened. A child herself.

  All-Father, a stupid name that gives him more credit than he deserves, shared the names with me. They sung out on the shadows to my mind. The names I will never forget—and one day will meet the owners of.

  “He was beautiful, perfect in every way,” she says quietly after several minutes of silence.

  I say nothing. Instead I wrap my finger around her finger.

  “Well, looks like the lizard is a chicken. Can we still kill him?” she asks, changing the subject as her finger tightens on mine.

  “Yes.” That will happen when he does show up, if for no other reason than I am annoyed he did not show up today for me to kill him.

  Just like I am going to kill the locks who hurt her so deeply. Slowly, painfully. As I study her pale face, see the frown between her eyes. I decide that I am going to stretch it out for days.

  Also in the process of hunting those locks, I will kill every other one I cross paths with. Anyone who hurts her will die.

  Chapter Forty

  Iza

  Standing in my massive closet, I flip through the clothing hanging up. Most of it still has tags on it because I’m extremely protective of it. And haven’t worn it. Which I know is borderline obsessive, but I can’t help myself. Dad says it’s the dragon in me, hoarding and all that.

  There’s no denying he’s right; I just don’t like admitting that to him.

  This instinct inside of me convinces me to buy everything that catches my eye and lock it in this closet and then guard it like a… well, shit. Like a dragon.

  Laughing, I pull out a pair of faded blue jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Not the fanciest outfit, but I’m tired of standing here looking. Nika actually started to comment on my clothing choices this evening. Well, she was commenting. I think the Fiends cha
sing her around the room might stop the nagging.

  She needs to understand I don’t wear dresses—it’ll get ruined with blood and then I’d be pissed off for ruining it.

  Jameson gave me a two hour crash course on the information he dug up on the shifters. They really like their pissing contests. Hopefully it doesn’t come down to my balls being bigger than theirs, because they are, and I don’t even have any.

  Phobe does though. Which makes me laugh as I pull the shirt over my head. Pulling on the jeans, I dig around for my boots. With a dismissive glance at the vanity with all the unopened face paint on it, I grab my jacket and head out the door.

  I have no idea how to put makeup on and tonight is not the night I want to experiment. Because I have a feeling things won’t turn out well with me and makeup.

  I keep seeing horrible images of clowns.

  When I see Phobe, I stop a minute and simply appreciate him. Good god, he really is too pretty. He even fixed his hair and it’s perfect too. How the hell does he do that shit?

  Wearing his normal black t-shirt and faded jeans—no shoes or socks, of course—he looks like he just walked off a runway model show. And it’s something that’s purely him. No frills. The only thing technically fashionable is the black metal bracelet on his wrist.

  I like it. I’ll have to ask him where I can get one.

  Unlike my other two self-appointed bodyguards he doesn’t carry any weapons. He doesn’t need one: he’s the weapon.

  “Everyone ready?” At my question, Auryn opens the door and walks through ahead of me, her eyes sharp.

  She looks really nice too. She’s wearing a sleek black pantsuit that looks as if it were made for her. If not for the big sword hidden in the back of her jacket and the gun bulge I could see under her armpit, she’d look like any professional woman.

  Licar is dressed suave as well. Smiling at me like I’m Santa, ha. He’s wearing black slacks that are complimented by a white button up shirt, with two guns strapped on and a sword slung over his shoulder as well.

  A peek of bright blue makes me look further down. Laughing out loud, I point at his flip flops. Smiling, he winks at me and follows his wife out the door.

  Adriem, he’s all grunge, including the sunglasses he’s sporting. Torn blue jeans and a band t-shirt. I also know he has knives strapped all over his body. He prefers them and he’s fast enough to get away with it.

  He then motions for me to precede him out the door, so rolling my eyes, I do. Phobe is a shadow beside me. I’m not even positive that anyone besides me can see him.

  Somehow, I end up in the middle of the group, being bounced around between them like ping-pong ball. I mutter a few complaints under my breath, but they have no heat in them. I already argued the arrangement and lost. Repeatedly.

  I will say I almost feel sorry for the first idiot who tries to get to me through them. Almost.

  When I received the stupid invitation for the club—called Bled of all things—I knew right off the bat it was from the shifters. So just to be a dick, I made them wait a full day before answering them and I had Jameson do it versus myself.

  Bet that pissed them off.

  In retaliation, we were informed I could bring four guests, because I am considered a ‘minor’ power only and do not require a large guard. The Nightmares didn’t give me a choice about it and Phobe… well, he’s a given.

  I climb into the limousine Jameson ordered for us—he said for appearances sake, I think it’s because they don’t want me driving. What’s the big deal? It’s not like I can seriously hurt any of them. They have Magikal airbags.

  Besides, driving would’ve made this night more bearable. I’m not looking forward to this outing. It’s almost Halloween time here and I still need to go pick out costumes for the kids. I promised to take them trick or treating.

  One way or another I am, too.

  Parking myself in the seat next to the door, I stare out the window. Snow comes early here in North Dakota. I kind of like it. The snow swirls around us as we drive, making a pretty white smoky trail. I’d rather be out there walking in it, enjoying the night, than dealing with this mess. Maybe making a snowman, or better yet, having a snowball fight. I’ve seen those on TV.

  Unfortunately, the drive is relatively short and when the door opens, any thought of getting back in the car and leaving flees. I’m committed now.

  Looking up, I get my first look at the club. It’s very… fancy. The building is an older red, brick one with a lit-up entrance boasting velvet ropes and suit-clad bouncers. There are two lines of people that stretch all the way around the building’s corner to disappear.

  There are at least 6 men guarding the door, big boys too.

  Eyeing them a moment, I can tell they aren’t human either.

  When they spot us, they move the rope that crosses the doorway. Why use a rope to dissuade entrance? It can’t stop anyone who wants to get in.

  ‘It is merely a symbol, not an actual deterrent.’ Phobe supplies the answer.

  Still seems like a waste of pretty rope.

  My first look in the club and I love it on sight. Gives me a great idea too, one that I need to talk to Jameson about. This place is packed full, which means money. Not that I personally need it, but others had been asking about jobs and a club of our own will provide those.

  ‘What do you think?’ I ask Phobe as we make our way through the crowd of people.

  ‘It is loud.’

  I hide my smile. He would say that. ‘It’s supposed to be loud.’

  I swear I feel him roll his eyes in response. ‘There are a lot of the diluted half-breeds— what do you call them? Blood suckers?’ he says calmly.

  Sometimes I have a hard time sensing them; they are more wrapped up in humanity than most Feyrie half-breeds. ‘Vampires’ interbred more with humans than even the shifters did.

  ‘What are you planning on saying to the Alpha?’

  I smile, unable to help it. I have no idea what I’m going to say. Probably something rude. I feel Phobe peek in my brain. He tugs on a lock of my hair when he snoops.

  I laugh out loud.

  The dance floor is massive, with colored lights all over the place. The DJ is on a raised platform in the middle that’s spinning in place. I have to admit he’s pretty good. The crowd loves him too.

  “Let’s go find where they stuck us,” I say to my group.

  At least I think they’ll stick us somewhere. They did invite us. Plus, I imagine they have better manners than I do.

  As soon as my foot touches the table area, a man appears before us quietly. Focusing my attention on him, I bite my tongue to keep my mouth shut. He’s wearing a leather jacket with a pink tie. Either he has a great sense of humor or he’s making a statement. Maybe both.

  “Good evening,” he greets, turning towards Auryn, who frowns at him.

  I catch on to the situation quicker than she does. He thinks Auryn is me. It’s an easy mistake to make—she’s all regal and I’m… well, whatever I am.

  Of course, she’s totally irritated about it and her thoughts are written all over her face.

  “I’m here to welcome you to the club. If you will follow me, please?” He turns and heads up the stairs.

  I raise a brow and motion Auryn to lead us. She gives me a dirty look and then does as bid. I’ll catch hell for this later but it’s totally worth it.

  Pink tie casts one look backward and keeps walking.

  “I do not see the humor, Iza,” Auryn scolds.

  “It’s going to be a constant thing with these people. I don’t have the look.” Or the fashion sense, but I keep that part to myself.

  “You let them think it on purpose but one day you’ll be too strong to do that, and they will know you whether you look the part or not.”

  I make a face at her and then say, “I’ll deal with that when it happens.”

  She smiles at her small victory. I usually don’t give in with so little argument. In this case, there is no
point in arguing a lost point. It will happen one day.

  Pink tie shows us to a large, enclosed VIP area. So says the sign on the door.

  ‘There are a lot of eyes on us. Including some hidden Feyrie.’

  At Phobe’s observation I put my sunglasses on and use the cover of them to look around without turning my head. I don’t want to draw on the Web and alert them that I’m aware of them.

  But I can distantly feel them there now.

  ‘How many?’ I ask, knowing he knows already.

  ‘Twelve inside. Twenty outside. There are powerful ones among them, old ones.’

  I mull over his words as I cross to the booth we’re directed to. A bunch of shifters are standing around it. Hostility bleeds off them.

  ‘They’re going to be pains in my ass, aren’t they?’

  His silence is the answer to my question. Of course they are. We had some debates about this visit. Phobe thinks I should force their dormant marks active. It’s something I really want to avoid.

  Doesn’t mean I won’t do it.

  I take in all the occupants of the booth and around it, using all my senses to get the information I need. The large blonde man sitting at the center of the booth, although I’m pretty sure he is being presented as the Alpha… isn’t. The ego is there—he wears it like a piece of armor—but the power isn’t.

  My money is on the slimmer gentleman hiding just in the shadows to the side of the booth. Letting my eyes rest on him, I feel him raise his gaze to meet my own.

  Pink Tie comes to stand beside us and says, “May I introduce—” He looks at Auryn expectantly. She smiles that beautiful smile of hers that can melt a man at fifty feet. It’s also the same smile she uses before cutting a head off with that big sword of hers.

  “I am Auryn, Guardian of the Shepherd,” she says, stepping back to leave me standing in the front.

  “I’m sorry, did you say Shepherd?” Pink Tie stammers out.

  So, the mention of a Shepherd makes him nervous? That’s interesting. I file it away for later.

  ‘This shifter is on the submissive side. His thoughts are a mess, but he has no shields against me. Right now, he is thinking of the prophecy his people have about a Shepherd.’

 

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