Her cheeks flushed. “Hurry up.”
For a twenty-two thousand-year-old night demon, Bael was shy.
She jumped in, holding on to the portal’s side, just like Cera. The icy water chilled her to the bone, and she averted eyes as Bael stripped off his clothes. She felt his silky, muscled body brush against hers as he plunged into the pool. She let herself drift underwater, enveloped by the cold.
She found Bael’s powerful hand and slipped her fingers into his.
Nyxobas. She let the thought rise in her mind like a voice. Grant us permission to leave. To return home, to Earth.
She felt inky magic spool through her body, coiling through her muscles, dragging her into the water. Deep under the surface, she held her breath, carried by the god of night. And at last—she saw light piercing the water.
Golden light—the honeyed tones of an earthly sunset.
With Bael’s hand clasping her own, she swam for the surface. At last, her head breached the water, and she sucked in a deep breath, staring at the warm glow over Central Park.
New York City. Home.
Chapter 1
Ursula clasped the rough stone of the fountain’s lip. She pulled her head from the water, and sucked in a deep breath, gasping after the long journey through the portal. Above, the sun burned hot in the sky, and the humid spring air filled her aching lungs. A faint scent of smoke floated on the breeze. She wasn’t in the Shadow Realm anymore.
A stony ground materialized under the water, forcing her upward. She ducked down, crouching behind the fountain’s shallow lip to shield her naked body from view. From the stone foundation of the fountain, bits of metal glinted up at her, sparking in the sunlight below the water. Nickels, dimes, and thousands of pennies. The portal had closed.
She whirled, looking for Cera and Bael in the icy water, but she was completely alone, icy water lapping at her bare breasts.
A chill snaked up her spine. What had happened to her friends? Just a few minutes ago, they’d all been jumping naked into the portal from the Shadow Realm. Bael’s muscled body had been exhausted, but he’d been conscious when they’d pulled him into the frigid water. On the journey here, she’d tried to keep track of him, but icy currents had ripped them apart.
And now it was just her, stark naked in a fountain in the center of New York City. Had Bael and Cera already climbed out, leaving her behind? Or worse—had they gotten lost in Nyxobas’s waters before the portal had closed?
As she huddled out of view, something felt wrong. It wasn’t just that she was alone, or that the scent of smoke floated on the wind. It was the eerie silence that enshrouded the city. When was it ever silent in New York? She peered over the fountain’s edge, her sodden hair dripping onto the weathered stone.
Directly in front of her, a tall building with ostentatious gold-filigreed awnings loomed over an empty street. She was within thirty feet of the Plaza Hotel, her New York home. All she needed to do to get home was dash across the street before someone arrested her for public indecency.
And yet—why would the street be empty outside New York City’s Plaza Hotel? She was right next to Central Park. In the middle of the day, there should be honking cars, throngs of tourists, those horse-drawn carriages clopping by. Yet no one was here.
Apart from the flags waving forlornly in the wind, she hardly saw any movement—at least, not until a diminutive form rushed across the street. Her white hair streamed behind her, gleaming in the sunlight, and she wore a black raincoat that came down to her skinny knees. Cera. Thank the gods. The little oneiroi hurried toward the fountain, carrying two overcoats.
“Ursula!” Cera chirped, her pale eyes shining.
Still crouching, Ursula peered at Cera over the fountain’s edge. “What’s going on? Why is it so quiet?”
Cera thrust one of the coats at her. “I haven’t got a clue. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. Perhaps a human plague or something. Surely you’re about due for one.”
Shadow demons weren’t great at reassurance. Ursula rose, water dripping down her body, and grabbed the beige overcoat. Shivering, she pulled it on. Even if the streets were empty, she wasn’t comfortable standing here completely starkers in broad daylight.
Tying the belt around the coat, she stepped from the fountain, her bare feet sloshing onto the stony ground. She frowned at the other overcoat. Who was that for? “Where’s Bael?”
Cera frowned. “He was with you. You went into the portal together. He is your betrothed, if you recall. You’re going to need to look after him.”
Ursula turned to stare at the fountain, her stomach clenching with dread. What if he was drowning under that closed portal? Without his wings, he was completely mortal.
“Bloody hell. I was holding his hand, but the currents forced us apart. Do you think he could have got out on his own?”
He hadn’t been in good shape before they’d plunged into the water. Bael—her betrothed, apparently. The man who’d hastily offered to marry her before a bloodthirsty crowd, just to save her life. He was occasionally brutal and emotionally remote, and he had a dark past she didn’t even want to think about. And yet, somehow, the powerful shadow warrior had been growing on her. “What do we do?”
Cera’s hand fluttered nervously to her mouth. “We need to open the portal again.”
Ursula turned to stare into the fountain. Instead of a stony base covered in coins, the fountain had gone murky and dark. Just then, a bubble popped, followed by another.
Ursula held up a hand. “Wait. I think the portal is opening again.”
Something dark lurked under the water’s surface—Bael’s hair. Frantically reaching into the icy water, Ursula grabbed him under the shoulders and pulled him out, straining at the weight. As she hoisted his torso over the fountain’s edge, his head lolled back, eyes open. Bael’s eyes, normally a pale gray, had turned completely black.
“Gods below,” whispered Cera.
He must weigh three hundred pounds, all of it pure muscle, and Ursula strained to lift him. “Help me get him out of the pool.”
Cera grabbed one of Bael’s arms, and together they pulled him from the water, until he dropped onto the stony ground with a hard thud. Immediately, he began coughing, and Ursula loosed a long breath. He can breathe, at least.
He lay on his back, his powerful body like a fallen Greek sculpture—golden and perfectly proportioned. But in Bael’s case, dark tattoos covered his skin. Her heart thrumming, Ursula knelt beside his head. She touched her fingers to his cold throat. A pulse beat faintly beneath the surface of his skin.
“Bael?” She leaned down, whispering in his ear. “Are you all right?”
“Ursula!” Cera pointed to his hip, at an injury from which blood oozed onto the stone, mingling with the water. It was where she’d stabbed him in the lunar arena. Ursula frowned at the wound, her throat tightening. It looked even worse now, as if someone had gnawed at it. He was hemorrhaging blood.
“I don’t understand,” said Ursula. “It wasn’t that bad before we went through the portal.”
“I think the Forgotten Ones attacked him.”
Bael groaned, shifting on the stone, his eyes now closed.
Ursula touched his shoulder. “Bael, can you move?”
He didn’t respond, but his enormous chest slowly rose and fell.
Ursula glanced at the little oneiroi. “We have to get him inside. I just have no idea how we’ll lift him.” Ursula was unusually strong for someone her size, but even so, carrying Bael was beyond her capabilities.
Cera straightened. “Wait here.” Before Ursula could respond, Cera darted back across the street and into the Plaza. After what seemed like an eternity, she reappeared at the entrance pushing a brass luggage cart. The cart creaked and bounced over the empty street as Cera pushed it—jarring sounds in the otherwise silent city.
Smart thinking.
Cera rolled the cart next to Bael, then covered his naked body in the second raincoat. Ursula grabbed Bael’s ankles, and Ce
ra grabbed his wrists. Grunting and straining, they hoisted him into the cart. As they lay him down on the cart, his feet dangling over the edge, his eyes fluttered, but they didn’t open.
Ursula gripped the brass bars of the cart, wheeling him across the road.
“We need to save the lord,” said Cera. “If he is going to marry you—”
“He’s not actually my betrothed, you know,” Ursula interrupted. “He was just saving my life with that proposal.”
“Don’t be absurd,” snapped Cera.
“You are aware that he killed his last wife?” The wheels of the cart creaked as she pushed it across the empty street.
“I’m sure he had a very good reason.”
They approached the desolate Plaza lobby, and Ursula forgot all about their discussion as a sharp tendril of fear coiled through her gut. Empty. New York City was entirely empty.
In the Plaza lobby, only the pale sunlight filtered in through the doors. No light shone from the wall sconces or crystal chandeliers. As the moved further inside, the vast hall was still and dark as a tomb.
“What the bloody hell is going on?” Ursula whispered.
Cera shook her head. “I have no idea. I just grabbed some clothes from a coat rack before I rushed back to the fountain.”
Ursula pulled her raincoat closer, wishing desperately for a weapon. The empty shops and corridors in the Plaza lobby deeply unsettled her. As they moved through the interior of the hotel, pushing the luggage cart along in front of them, shudders snaked up her spine. Months ago, not long after Ursula had learned she was a hellhound, demons and mages had attacked the city of Boston. Had something similar happened in New York while she’d been on the moon?
Under the raincoat, Bael’s chest slowly rose and fell. At his hip, a growing crimson stain bled into the overcoat, and Ursula’s stomach clenched. Once, he’d been immortal, but since he’d lost his wings, that had changed. Bael could be bleeding to death right in front of them, and the thought made Ursula’s heart hammer against her ribs.
Cera paused at a junction of pale marble halls, and Ursula pointed down a dimly lit corridor. “The lift to my flat is this way.”
As they moved further into the hall, two guards stepped from the shadows, and Ursula’s throat tightened. Just thirty feet away, they were dressed in military fatigues, gripping assault rifles. Ursula’s heart skipped a beat. Ever since Boston was attacked, humans had been openly hunting demons. Since her fire magic had been stripped from her in the Shadow Realm, she supposed she was an ordinary human now. But Cera sure as hell wasn’t, and these humans didn’t look particularly demon-friendly.
One of them was pointing the gun directly at her, his brow creased, sweat beading on his skin. His hands were trembling slightly. He looked scared out of his wits. “Identify yourself.” His voice echoed off the ceiling.
Ursula’s fingers tightened around the brass of the luggage cart, her legs beginning to shake. They were running out of time—fast. Bael was losing blood, and if he didn’t get medical attention straight away, he could die. She wasn’t going to let that happen. Her first instinct was to get the hell out here and take Bael to a hospital. But first, she needed to know what was going on. Given the desolation of New York’s streets, it didn’t look like a hospital would be an option.
She considered her options. Option one was easy. They could turn and leave, but that would put them on the sidewalk in what appeared to be a deserted New York City. Bael was apparently bleeding to death, and she didn’t think an ambulance would be coming anytime soon to take them to Mount Sinai Hospital.
Option two was more difficult. She could attack them. The problem was, she had no weapon, and she wasn’t anywhere near close enough. As she tried to think of a way to close the gap between them, a red dot appeared in the center of her chest—the rifle was fitted with a laser sight.
That left only option three. Talk to them, like a regular person. Just a normal, barefoot woman, naked and soaked under a rain coat, with a bleeding naked man on a luggage cart. Oh, and a tiny white-haired companion. Nothing untoward here. “I live on the nineteenth floor,” she said at last. “I think my friend Zee might be up there.”
The guard narrowed his eyes at her, studying her as if she looked familiar. “Are you…?” He trailed off, then shook his head. “What are you doing out of your apartment? The city is on lockdown.”
I’ve just transported here from the moon wasn’t going to cut it. She needed a lie. A convincing lie. “My friend is hurt.” She pointed at Bael. “He called me. He said he’d been attacked…” She allowed the sentence to trail off, unsure if demons were the actual culprit in this lockdown. “Do you know where we can find a doctor?”
The guard shot her an are you insane look. “A doctor?”
Ursula cleared her throat. Wrong question, I guess. “He’s very badly injured.” And you either need to help me or get the hell out of my way.
“No doctors around here.” The guard lowered his gun. “What floor was that again?”
“The nineteenth.”
The man spoke quietly into a microphone attached to his lapel, then touched his ear as someone replied. After a few moments, he nodded. “All right. You’re cleared to go up.”
Ursula pushed the cart toward the guards, with Cera trailing behind, eyes lowered.
As Ursula and Cera moved closer, the guards stepped back from the elevators, keeping their guns trained on them.
Ursula pushed the button, and the soldier’s voice echoed off the ceiling again. “What happened to his clothes?”
“He…” Ursula racked her brain for a convincing response. “He’s kind of an exhibitionist. I think that’s why he was attacked.”
From the cart, Bael groaned, his eyes still closed. Maybe he didn’t appreciate being slandered.
A ping sounded as the lift arrived, and Ursula loosed a breath. The doors slid open, and she rolled the cart into the elevator. Once they were safely inside, she punched the button marked 19.
The doors started to close, but then stopped, blocked by one of Bael’s legs. She yanked the cart further into the lift, and finally the doors closed.
She fell back against the mirrored wall, heart still racing. “What the hell is going on?”
Cera shook her head. “This is your world. I have no idea. Why didn’t you ask the humans?”
Ursula shook her head. “Something told me not to. Not until I have some idea what’s going on. What if demons attacked the city, like they did in Boston? I didn’t want them sussing out what we are. Did you see that soldier’s face? He looked really frightened.”
The lift pinged as it reached the nineteenth floor, and the doors rolled open to the familiar marble atrium of her apartment. Zee stood directly before them, her eyes open wide.
“Ursula!” She wore a white dress, smudged with soot. “What are you doing here? New York isn’t safe for you. You need go back to the Shadow Realm.”
Chapter 2
Ursula pushed the luggage cart into the hall, and Cera followed behind her. As they moved into the hall, Zee hurried past them and into the elevator.
“Zee?” said Ursula. “Where are you going? What the bloody hell is going on?”
Zee’s blond hair was uncharacteristically messy, and she had dark circles beneath her eyes. “I’ll be right back to explain. Did you talk to anyone on your way in here?”
Ursula frowned. “Only the guards at the door to the elevator. The ground floor was empty. What’s happening? I need to get Bael medical attention somehow.”
The lift door began to close, and Zee slammed her hand on it to stop it. “Did you give the guard your name?” she demanded, ignoring Ursula’s questions.
“No, I only told him the apartment number.”
“Okay. That’s good.” The doors closed on Zee.
Ursula’s stomach clenched as she crouched next to Bael, feeling for his pulse at his neck. It was there—faintly. “He’s losing too much blood. We’ll need to stanch the bleeding.�
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“Get some goldenseal root powder!” Cera barked.
Ursula stood. “What? I don’t have that.” She bit her lip. “We need to sterilize it, then apply pressure. I think. Can you please fetch the sterile gauze from the bathroom? It’s in the medicine cabinet.”
Her pulse racing, Ursula dashed into the kitchen. First, she washed her hands, scrubbing them hard to get off any New York grime that could infect Bael. Then, she yanked open a cupboard door.
Saline solution was supposed to be good for cleaning wounds. With shaking hands, she snatched a container of salt from the cupboard, then a glass bowl. She dumped at least a cup of salt into the bowl. Good thing Bael is unconscious, because I am about to literally pour salt into his wounds.
This wouldn’t help his blood loss—they’d need a transfusion for that—but maybe they could at least clean the wound and stop him from losing more blood.
Ursula rushed back into the hall, and pulled the raincoat off Bael. Dark blood had pooled onto the cart beneath him, dripping onto the marble floors, and she winced at the sight of his ravaged hip. Slowly, she poured the saline solution over his hip, and it trickled into his wound. She had no idea if she was doing it correctly.
Cera’s footfalls sounded in the hall, and in the next moment, the little oneiroi was crouching by the cart, frantically ripping through the packages. “No goldenseal root powder,” she muttered. “Savages. Absolute savages.”
Ursula grabbed the gauze from Cera, then stuffed it into Bael’s wounds. “Help me bind this together.” She unfurled a long piece of gauze, and tried shoving it under Bael’s enormous, muscled form, her hands slick with blood.
Cera reached under him from the other side, pulling the gauze through. Ursula pressed down hard on the bundle of gauze stuffed in his wound, then tied the long strips of gauze together over his hips as tight as she could. Her hands soaked in his blood, she pushed down hard on the gauze, applying pressure.
“Okay,” she said. “What next? What do we do about the blood loss?”
Shadows & Flame Complete Boxed Set: Demons of Fire and Night Novels Page 49
