Shadows & Flame Complete Boxed Set: Demons of Fire and Night Novels

by C. N. Crawford

  “Abrax.” His eyes blazed. “And maybe we can get Hugo’s soul back from him, too, so Emerazel doesn’t need to claim your soul. Then I’ll crush the life out of him.”

  “What happens if we don’t get the rest of Zee’s soul back?”

  “She won’t live for more than a few days.”

  Dread snaked up her spine, and she pulled her white stone from her purse, rolling it between her fingers. “She’ll die?”

  “Yes. Put your charm away. I’ve got to refill you. You drained the rest of your remaining energy in your foolish attempt at fighting me.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but she was too tired for an argument. “How do you refill me?”

  He crossed to her, holding out his hand. She grasped it, and he pulled her up. As she stood, dizziness fogged her mind, and he slipped an arm around her back to steady her. “I will imbue you with Emerazel’s fire.”

  She was suddenly acutely aware of his bare skin and the heat radiating from his body. She looked down at the slow rise and fall of his chest, drinking in his delicious, earthy smell. Oh, God. I don’t have the hots for this guy, do I? “Will that be painful?”

  “No.” His gaze slid down to her shoulder. “I’m just going to put my hand on your scar. My heat will flow into you.”

  “Okay.” She couldn’t take her eyes off his stunning face. No wonder he’s full of himself.

  Kester pulled down the strap of her gown, then her pink bra strap. The cool cabin air tickled her skin. He pressed his palm flat against her shoulder. He closed his eyes, chanting in his strange language. A glorious, tingling heat pulsed from his fingertips over her skin, caressing her neck. The heat moved slowly, whispering around her throat, slipping lower over her breasts before pulsing down her abdomen. Was it her imagination, or was his thumb moving slowly up and down on her lower back, lazily stroking her skin through her silk dress? A hot, euphoric thrill seeped into her body, blazing through her core, and she fought the urge to press herself against his strong body. Molten power ignited her veins, and she felt a smile curl her lips. I’m back.

  Kester opened his eyes, gazing down at her. “Better?” His thumb still languidly stroked her lower back, and she could feel herself arching into him.

  Her eyes lingered on his perfect lips, and for just a moment, she considered kissing him—before she reminded herself that a) he was an entitled wanker most of the time, b) Zee’s unconscious body lay just a few feet away, and c) his nickname was “the Headsman.” Probably not a good idea to kiss someone named for an executioner.

  She rolled her neck. “I feel amazing. I’m ready to find this incubus.”

  Chapter 27

  Kester crossed his room, pulling open a drawer in a small, wooden dresser. He took out a black sweater, slipped it over his chiseled torso. “There’s a little problem with our plan.”

  “What?”

  “I have no idea where to find Abrax. He’s an ancient and powerful incubus. He dwells in Nyxobas’s Manhattan lair, and I have no idea—”

  “I know where he was going.”

  Pulling on a pair of grey trousers, he shot her a sharp look. “He told you?”

  “He mentioned a place called Oberon’s. Something about wanting to bring me there as a pet.”

  Kester curled back his lip in a snarl.

  “Do you know what it is?”

  “No, I was hoping you might.”

  “It’s a private club for the fae. Unfortunately, they have a strict door policy, enforced by ancient and powerful magic even I can’t manipulate. You can only get in if a fairy gives you explicit permission.” He nodded at Zee. “And she’s the only fae I know. Obviously, Abrax is connected.”

  Ursula shook her head, the guilt pressing on her chest like a rock. “If Abrax is as elusive as you say, I’m not letting this lead get away.” It was her fault Zee’s soul was missing. If she hadn’t screwed up her first mission with her off-putting personality, none of this would have happened. And, of course, if F.U. hadn’t carved the mark in the first place, Zee would be sipping a champagne cocktail in Club Lalique right now. “There must be someone you can bribe.”

  “The fae aren’t interested in money.”

  “Are you serious? Have you ever been shopping with Zee?”

  “She’s an exception—she’s a solitary fairy. Most of the fae in New York are part of Oberon’s court, and have all the wealth they could possibly desire.”

  “Oberon’s court. That’s where we’re going? Some sort of fairy realm?”

  “Yes. And Oberon is their king.” He slipped into a pair of shoes. “Maybe we can catch Abrax coming in or out. It’s our best chance.”

  “But he had a huge head start.” She closed her eyes, trying to think of all the times she and Katie had sneaked into clubs in London when they couldn’t afford the entry fee. They’d usually asked a bartender or waiter they knew to add them to the list. “Are there staff there? A hostess you could charm?”

  Kester paced across the floor like a caged animal. “We won’t be able to talk to them until we get in. It’s in another dimension. The only way in is through magic we can’t control.”

  Another dimension? Bloody hell. “Well, how does Zee’s hairstylist get in? Luis? She said something about how he’s always there with redheads.”

  Kester stopped pacing, and his green eyes flicked to hers. “Tell me about him.”

  She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know much, except that he’s slightly creepy and into gingers.”

  “How big is he?”

  “Big. Muscular. About your size.”

  Kester rubbed a hand over his chin. “He might be fae.”

  “What would a fae be doing cutting hair, if they’re infinitely wealthy?” She touched her lips. “Though you did say they’re hedonists—and he was a little too fond of massaging my hair. He leaned down and sniffed it at one point. I did think that was odd.”

  “Exactly. Fae have their own particular earthly pleasures that excite them. For some it’s food, for some it’s sex. And for Luis, apparently, it’s hair.”

  “I’ll call him.”

  Kester nodded. “Good. Just don’t tell him why we want to go. Oberon’s is supposed to be used for pure pleasure only. If he invites any trouble inside, he’ll be banned for life.”

  She bent down, snatching her purse from the floor. “Don’t worry. I’ll use my silky charm.” She pulled out her mobile phone, and dialed Luis’s number. He picked up on the third ring. In the background she could hear “Girl, You Got a Magic Body” playing.

  “Hi, Luis. This is Ursula. You, um, cut my hair recently.”

  “Mmm. Ginger. You want a scalp massage?”

  “Actually, I was wondering if you’re going to Oberon’s tonight? I heard you talking about it with Zee when you were doing that amazing thing to my scalp. And, well, I just wanted to try it out. I’ve heard it’s the best place to enjoy yourself.”

  “I wasn’t planning on going. But for you, I could change my plans.”

  “Ooh, that’s wonderful.” She let her voice drip with honey. “And Kester will be with me.”

  “Oh,” he said flatly. “They won’t want the Headsman inside.”

  “I’ll let you touch my hair,” she blurted. “It’s important. I mean, it’s important that I enjoy myself.” Lure him in, Ursula, like a master. “And it’s important that my hair… enjoys itself… with your fingers on it. You can smell it.” Bollocks.

  “Mmmm.” She heard him take a long breath through his nose. “Yes. Let me get dressed. You’ll be on the list under Kester’s name. Peele. I’ll tell them to make an exception for tonight, and the wards will be lifted for both of you. Your hair will get to enjoy itself with my hands all night.” He hung up with a click.

  She grimaced at what she’d just agreed to.

  Kester was staring at her. “That was your silky charm?”

  She scowled. “Hey. It worked. I’m getting us into Oberon’s, which is more than you could do. Let’s go.”
She was charged up with Emerazel’s fire, and her body burned with power.

  “Not so fast. We have some preparation to do first.” He looked down at her blood-soaked dress. “Staring with getting you out of that gown.”

  She arched an eyebrow. If Zee’s unconscious body weren’t a few feet away putting a damper on things, that statement might have made her blush. “And what did you have in mind?”

  “Fae fashion is extremely opulent.” He walked around her, his gaze sliding down her body. “I think I know just the right look for you.”

  She crossed her arms. “You’re going to dress me?”

  Before she’d even got the words out, he was chanting in his magical language, and his magic caressed her skin. Her dress began to transform, the grey silk taking on a stunning grass-green hue. It floated around her legs as if on a vernal wind, the delicate fabric skimming over her thighs. Two long slits inched up the front while her neckline plunged. Gold vines snaked around her waist to just below her breasts, holding the stunning fabric in place. Silver bracelets appeared on her wrists, and a warm, white fur jacket appeared in his hands. With a graceful flourish he placed the jacket on her shoulders.

  Staring at his creation, he ran a finger over his lower lip. “Now you look perfect.”

  She glanced down at her ensemble. “I didn’t have you pegged as a clothing designer.”

  “There’s very little I’m not good at.”

  She nearly pulled a muscle rolling her eyes.

  Chapter 28

  He turned to one of his bookcases and began retrieving magazines from a shelf and tossing them onto the floor. Each featured a boat on the cover, and had titles like All Things Sailing and Anchors Away.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Is there some sort of nautical solution to Zee’s missing soul?”

  He leaned over, staring into the shelf. “I need to consult my grimoires. We need to conjure a protective ward to prevent the incubus from using his shadow magic on us.”

  “You know when a magical ward would have been helpful? When I was at the opera.” She stepped closer, peering over his shoulder. The magazines had hidden a metal button, and Kester pushed it. Something clicked loudly, and a nearby bookcase swung forward on a hinge, creaking over the floor. On the back of the bookshelf was a small collection of swords and knives, but the real treasure seemed to be a hidden alcove in the wall, that glowed with that magical amber light. As she peered over his shoulder, she saw that the light protected a small collection of books, just like the ones in the Plaza apartment.

  “I’m going to need your help in a minute.”

  That was something she’d never thought she’d hear him say. “What do I need to do?”

  He glanced at her. “A ward spell derives its strength from the souls of the people who create it. Magic is always more powerful when there are multiple spell-casters. If we cast one together, it will be doubly strong.”

  “And we’ll be reading from one of those books?”

  “Yes.” He held his hands over the amber light, closing his eyes. Slowly he intoned a single word, his deep voice a velvet caress over her skin: Oriel. As soon as he’d enunciated the final syllable, the glow on the bindings ebbed away.

  The driving wind battered the boat, and Kester ran a finger along the spines of the volumes, muttering to himself. “The Heptameron is too celestial. The Liber Juratus should have it.” He pulled it from the shelf and began flipping through the pages, skimming the text. “Ok, here it is. Honorius’s Armor—this will repel almost any magic.” He pointed to the looping lettering written on the page. “It’s Angelic. Do you think you can read it?”

  She stepped over to his side, looking down at the yellowed pages. She couldn’t quite understand the words, but she knew how to sound them out—just as she had when she’d first summoned Emerazel. Obviously, F.U. had done something useful with her time. “Definitely.”

  Kester began to read and Ursula joined in. As soon as they began to speak she felt the magic rushing over her skin, like she’d just stepped into a warm bath. As they intoned the spell, her skin grew warmer and the sensation grew more sensual. The words almost seemed to draw her closer to Kester, like a magnetic pull. Underneath his cedar smell was something darker she couldn’t identify, something that drew her in. The dull ache of loneliness that always seemed to gnaw at her heart began to soothe.

  As they intoned the final stanza, she felt his arm brush against hers, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. But at the final utterance, the spell between them snapped away. Ursula gasped like she’d been dropped into the river outside. For a moment, her skin felt like it was encrusted with ice, then a dull fatigue took over again.

  “What was that? I felt something…” She struggled to describe the sensation.

  He closed the book, sliding it back onto the shelf. “That was a magical aura, a byproduct of casting a spell. It’s strengthened my aura, giving me a sort of magical armor from fae weaponry. On top of that, any spell I cast will be more powerful now.”

  “Your aura? What about mine? You said the spell would protect us.”

  “It protects me, and I will protect you. There’s a good chance we’ll need to fight our way out of there.”

  She fumed. “My role is to be protected? I thought I was supposed to be a demon warrior now.”

  “Swords are great, but you don’t know any magic.” He crossed to Zee, scooping her up from the table. “Look, I’m going to tuck Zee into bed and get myself ready. We’ll leave in five minutes.” He disappeared into one of the rooms in the bow of the boat.

  Alone in the main cabin, Ursula had time to look around. The fire crackled invitingly in the stove, while the spray from the river lashed the portholes.

  With a groan, she stretched her arms over her head. Her whole body ached like she’d just gotten over the flu. Giving Kester part of her aura was apparently hard on the nervous system—not to mention the rest of the magical shitstorm she’d been through this evening.

  She walked to one of the bookshelves. For some bizarre reason, learning that Kester was a voracious reader was the most shocking revelation of all tonight. She scanned the spines—a row of the classics: Shakespeare, Melville, Dante, Dumas.

  Ursula pulled out a volume of Homer and flipped it open. The pages were stiff and smelled of fresh ink; he wasn’t reading these books. The shelf below held more recent novels: Doyle, Verne, Burroughs, Christie, even Brontë. The spine of Jane Eyre was creased and faded. Flipping through, she noticed some underlined passages. I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.

  Kester’s heels clapped over the boards, and she nearly jumped out of her skin, suddenly overcome by the feeling that she was invading his privacy. She shoved the book back on the shelf before glancing at him.

  He now wore a moss-green shirt, open to his stomach to expose his chiseled chest, and leather bands around his wrists. His trousers were midnight blue velvet, and fitted to his body, and boots were laced up to his knees.

  Ursula gave a low whistle. “You look amazing.”

  He frowned. “I look like a knob. But this is how they dress.” He picked up the white fur jacket he’d spelled into existence and passed it to her. “Joe will be here any minute. I’ll instruct you in the car on the way over. Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  She shot him a sharp look. Ursula was gradually coming to understand that F.U. hadn’t been a girl to be trifled with. “Don’t underestimate me, Kester Peele. Let’s go.” She slipped into the jacket, and strode off his boat into the stormy winter air.

  Chapter 29

  The Bentley stopped on a deserted New York City block, the street lined with darkened brick buildings. Ursula stepped out of the car, tugging the fur coat tightly around her flowing green dress. A rusty steel door in a brick wall wasn’t exactly what she’d expected for a portal to the faerie realm. There was nothing around it but a small buzzer set into the brick, and a camera discreetly positioned above the doo
r. The air smelled of stale piss.

  Wrinkling her nose, she clutched her wyrm-skin purse, her good luck charm tucked safely inside. “Are you sure this is the right place?” she asked.

  “Yeah, this is it.” His green eyes flashed a look that said don’t second guess me. “Do you remember your instructions?”

  “Of course.” How could she forget them? He’d made her repeat them to him on the way over in the Bentley. “Don’t speak to anyone. Don’t eat or drink anything, but somehow manage to convey debauchery while not having any fun whatsoever.”

  “You’ll have to maintain control. You’ve never been exposed to a legion of fae auras before. Even going in there might make you susceptible to hedonistic impulses.”

  “And you won’t be susceptible to these impulses?”

  “Males don’t react to the fae aura in the same way. We’re more likely to get possessive or territorial. All the more reason for you to stick near me, so I don’t have to murder anyone who tries to take advantage of you.”

  “I feel like we’re walking into some kind of caveman era.”

  “Their culture is different from yours. The women are submissive. They’re only around to please the males.”

  She shuddered. What did he mean by ‘your culture’? She made a mental note to ask him about that later. “What century are these people from?”

  He shrugged. “The king is nearly a hundred thousand years old. So, yes, caveman era.”

  Her stomach tightened. “Are you serious?”

  “I’ll need to act as though I’ve claimed you. An unclaimed women can be taken by the king.”

  “What does claiming me mean?”

  “It means it’s a good thing you find me attractive.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “What are you talking about?” she sputtered.

  “Don’t think I didn’t notice.” He adjusted his leather wristbands. “Anyway, that’s not important. Abrax will probably be swanning around Oberon. We need to get invited into the king’s inner circle. You’ll have to catch his eye, while making it clear you’re with me, or he’ll try to drag you away to mate with you. The fae are quite keen on redheads.”