by Cassi Carver
Brakken snarled and twenty-foot flames burst into existence all around the throne room, burning the bodies in an instant until only the slick marble tile remained. “Let him come! I am not afraid of Ailexon.” The flames died down but continued burning low to the ground.
“I know this, Father.” Gavin almost smiled. Everyone thought Brakken was absolutely mad, but his sense of self-preservation was well intact. For all of Brakken’s cruelty and fervor in battle, his army was smaller and less devout. It wouldn’t stand a chance under direct attack from the chief of the fallen angels.
“I’m simply saying,” Gavin continued, “that with the excellent stable you have here, I don’t think one insignificant female is worth the inconvenience of battling Ailexon’s army. It only took me two months of breeding to sire a child. I doubt any Aniliáre in the Shadowland has females such as yours.”
“I do have an excellent assortment.” Brakken turned, his feet never touching the ground and his scarlet robes flaring around him as he drifted toward the throne. “I was thinking of putting you in charge of their care. The captain of the menagerie is recently de…parted.”
“Oh? What happened?” Gavin schooled his features into a blank mask.
“I learned that after his unit transported the females to their nest to renew on the surface, he and his men were regularly providing them with sexual favors.” Brakken sat on the throne and raised his hand. A tray of meat appeared, balanced on his palm. He lifted a chunk of barbequed flesh to his lips and sank his teeth in. After he swallowed, he held out what looked like part of a blackened hand. “There’s still a bit of him left. Would you like some?”
Gavin shook his head, his stomach revolting at the sight. “Thank you, but no. Too bony for my tastes.”
“I need someone I can trust to keep an eye on my females while they are in the sun, Gavine. And you… Well, I practically had to force you to mate them. For all your other attributes, you’ve become quite a eunuch, boy. I can’t imagine a safer captain of the menagerie.”
He couldn’t let this happen. He had to get back to his people, to Kara. “Imagine how it would look, Father. Your peers would think your men didn’t respect you if you had to bring your son from the surface because there wasn’t a single man you could trust within your own ranks.”
Brakken frowned. “I’m not sure why I ever let you go in the first place. I allowed Gable to spend time on your infernal island because he was growing bored here and getting into mischief.” He snickered, the memories of Gable’s deviant behavior clearly amusing him. “But you… You left me to wage war with Teras.” As he said the word, fire spewed from his mouth and the platter dissolved into mist.
“Teras was an enemy of your enemy, Father. I did it for you. And when people saw my strength—your strength in me—they credited it to you. Having my own clan now, standing as a silver-wing and yet a lord, proves how great is the blood of Brakken.” The brand on the back of Gavin’s neck began to burn with energy, as if Brakken was stroking his nape.
Brakken smiled and ran his tongue along the sharp points of his teeth. “That is true, my son. How many others can boast of their own thriving clan on the surface? And you turned Ailexon’s own son Aiden against him!” A cackle erupted from Brakken’s lips. “That was the loveliest thing to see! The old fool!”
Gavin nodded and stood tall. “Every day we rule over our clan with Kara Reed in our grasp is another day we make a fool of your greatest enemy.”
Brakken chuckled. “Yes, Gavine. You are a good son. I will take Gable Two as payment, and you may go back to your island.”
“Yes, my king and father.” He bowed.
“But expect to hear from me. Maybe I will come to visit one day soon.”
For the love of Og, please no. “I look forward to it, sire.”
With Brakken’s blessing and before his father could change his mind, Gavin pictured his home in his mind’s eye and flashed.
The irony hit him, as it had before, that “flash” might be an apt term when one was on the surface, traveling from one locale to another, but flashing from the realm of the spirits to the realm of the mortal was more like birth.
The darkness of the Abyss tugged at the edges of Gavin’s spirit, threatening to unravel his DNA strand by strand. He fought to stay conscious as the oppression bore down on him, squeezing him through a tight channel inch by inch, until his feet set down once again on the blessed rug in his very own room at the palace. In reality, it was an instantaneous journey outside of time, but it felt as though it had taken days.
He dropped to his knees, at once exhausted and desolate as he contemplated the past nine weeks he’d spent in the Shadowland. He’d done what he could to protect Kara, but at what cost? Instead of earning redemption, he may have flung himself into the mouth of hell itself. Leaving his child to one of the most twisted Aniliáre in the Shadowland blackened his very soul.
He scrubbed his hands across his face. The sun was bright here, everything solid and unchanging, and his body struggled to adapt to the reintroduction of a reality that didn’t exist in the land of the fallen angels, where the only thing that tipped the scales was the strength of one’s will.
There were few occasions Gavin had ever contemplated ending his own life, but if he focused on how defeated he felt in this moment instead of the tasks that lay before him, he might have returned to the Shadowland that very night and spat on Ailexon’s sandals just to have the king put an end to him.
What would Kara say when she learned what Gavin had done? Even if she could forgive him for mounting every woman with a hollow between her legs, how would she take the news that he was the type of man who would leave his firstborn child with an unfathomable monster?
With a growl of pain, Gavin rose and shook off his unproductive thoughts. He needed to speak with Aiden. He needed to know if Kara was well. Maybe she never needed to learn of Gavin’s time with Brakken. If he wanted to keep her alive in the land of the mortal, he couldn’t show anyone how he felt about her anyhow. He wouldn’t give Brakken another reason to target the woman he loved.
He pushed open the door and strode down the hall, extending his wings to fly to the square and seek out Aiden. But when he passed the other lord’s door, the sounds of lovers’ games stopped him in his tracks.
He rapped his knuckles against the door. “Aiden?”
A giggle erupted from inside the room, and Aiden shushed the female. Gavin heard the sounds of small feet padding toward the restroom, then leather pants being pulled on right before lumbering footfalls approached. The door swung open.
“You made it back?” The relief in Aiden’s voice was apparent.
Gavin’s jaw muscle hardened. “A messenger came to me and told me there was trouble here and I should return as soon as possible. They must have been mistaken. I’m sure you wouldn’t be lounging in bed with—” he sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose, “—one of our females if there was danger to Kara or our clan.”
With Aiden’s past, he usually steered clear of their females and took humans or witches to bed. Holy Mother of Eve. Why was he alone with a Demiáre female now?
Aiden listed slightly to the side, his face looking far too serene. “A messenger? Liel must have sent him, but it was premature. Someone was toying with our men, and Kara thought she saw Julian, but she has strong wards up. There hasn’t been another problem that I know of.”
Gavin frowned. What the hell was Aiden talking about? “What have the scouts reported?”
Aiden adjusted himself and retied his pant-strings. “The scouts?”
“Yes.”
“Well…after the scouts’ wings were clipped, and Kara refused our protection, I didn’t send any replacements. She acts as though she doesn’t want to be part of the clan.”
Gavin shut his eyes and opened them again. Julian and grounded warriors and Kara without protection. Was he still in the Shadowland, experiencing one of Brakken’s illusions? He took a breath and his nostrils flared, only now n
oting the sweet metallic twang in the air. “Have you been drinking, Aiden?”
“What?” Aiden’s expression was all affront and indignation, but Gavin wasn’t fooled.
He grasped the other lord by the shoulders and scented the air again. “Have you been drinking?”
Aiden craned his neck to keep from looking at Gavin. “Just a nip, Gavin. I swear.”
“How could you give in to it at a time like this?”
Aiden pushed at Gavin’s chest in defiance. “Kara is fine, the men are restless and Olivia hasn’t yet gone into labor. I’ve been passing my days here waiting for the child to be born and solving disputes over who stole someone else’s arrow design and whether or not the cooks should use seasonal vegetables in the minestrone. I’m going fucking insane, and I just needed a little distraction.” Aiden stumbled back a step, then righted himself. “Don’t be such a self-righteous ass.”
With a curse rumbling in his chest, Gavin pushed past Aiden and went straight for the bathroom. He opened the door and saw a naked, black-haired female sitting on the edge of the tub, cleansing the blood from her skin with a sea sponge. “Riana?”
“Gavin! You’re back!” She jumped up and threw her wet arms around Gavin’s neck. “We missed you.”
“I’m glad to be home.” He gave her a slight squeeze, then stepped back. “But I need you to tell me the truth, Riana. Have you been giving Aiden your blood?”
She smiled. “Only a few times. We were just having some fun. He buzzes around this camp morning and night, and we simply wanted to give him a moment’s peace. It’s been so depressing here lately with you gone and Julian…”
His heart still hurt when he thought about his brother-lord. He’d been so sure that Julian was regenerating. He’d promised Kara the same. But excavating what was left of his beloved Julian’s decomposing body was an image that would haunt Gavin for the next thousand years. “I understand it’s been hard. But you know every lady of this clan is absolutely forbidden to supply Aiden with her blood.”
Aiden stumbled into the bathroom and shucked his pants, then sank into the steaming water. “I said I only had a nip, Gavin. You’re making too big a deal of this—” As he slurred the last words, his head disappeared under the water.
“Aiden!” Riana called. “Gavin, he’s unconscious. He’s going to drown.”
“Just a nip, my ass. I should let him drown. The headache he’d wake up with would speak louder than any words from my lips.” Gavin reached into the water and pulled Aiden up by the hair, depositing his limp, naked body on the shallow seat of the tub with his face lying against the tiles of the floor. He turned to Riana. “How many of the others have given him blood, Riana? How long has this been going on?”
She blinked, adopting her most submissive air. “Just the last few days. Lace thought it would be all right. No one has given him too much.”
“How could you do this? Have you no care for our clan?”
“We did it for the clan. Aiden wasn’t meant to bear such a burden. He’s wound tighter than an eight-day clock.”
Gavin didn’t like to lose his temper with the ladies of the clan, but Riana’s we did it for the clan remark almost made him erupt. “That’s rubbish, and we both know it. I’m not as easily swayed by a pretty face as Aiden.”
Her doe-eyed look turned into a glare. That was the Riana he knew. “He barely touches us when he’s sober, Gavin. Forgive us ladies if we enjoy him more when he’s like this.” The corners of her lips curled. “I haven’t had such a good ride in years. And he’s right, you know. You are a self-righteous prick, and mark my words—one of these days, someone is going to knock you off that high horse of yours.”
Without another word, Gavin turned and left Aiden’s room. There would be no talking sense into Aiden today, and likely, Gavin would only be wasting his breath trying to get Riana and the other ladies to feel remorse for supplying a blood addict with his drug of choice. They simply didn’t care.
They were presented with the opportunity to satisfy themselves with someone of Aiden’s considerable power, and they took it. Fucking selfish, the whole lot of them, from Aiden to the ladies who exploited his weakness and left the clan vulnerable.
Gavin stopped in the hall and squeezed his fists so hard, the veins in his forearms bulged. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs. If it wasn’t for Kara, he might have taken a long trip somewhere and let the others figure this out on their own.
Five minutes later, Gavin alighted just outside the square where Liel was giving some of the younger warriors lessons in swordplay.
“My lord.” Liel bowed. “You’re a blessed sight to see. Brakken released you, then?”
Gavin ignored his question. He didn’t want to discuss his father where anyone could hear. “Your mistress has been giving Aiden blood.”
Liel’s shoulders sank. “I did what I could when I learned what was happening. But he is my lord, he won’t listen to me.”
“And your female won’t listen to you either?” Gavin demanded. Liel shrugged in response. “Are you the captain of the guard, Liel? Or have I landed on the wrong island?”
Liel exhaled. “I understand you’re upset, but I assure you that I’ve had the men training night and day on the chance Lord Aiden calls us to see to the black-wing in the city.”
Gavin leaned fractionally closer. “It’s true, then?”
“Walk with me, my lord.” Liel gestured for Gavin to follow him, then said to the group assembled, “Carry on, men. After swords, I want the silver-wings to spend another hour practicing shields.”
Gavin trailed behind Liel to a small hut adjacent to the food storage barn. He entered the hut, and the scent of medicine and torn flesh assailed him. Four beds lined the walls, and each bed contained a warrior sprawled on his stomach. A demibreed caretaker was hunched over one of the warriors, spreading oiled herbs on the stumps on his back where his wings should have been.
“What in the name of the Maker is going on here? Kara’s guards were grounded? When?”
One of the warriors turned his face away, his neck and cheeks flushing. Having one’s wings clipped was only slightly better than having one’s balls cut off. The warriors would be fine once their wings grew back, but for now, they were in pain, and they looked flaming ridiculous.
Liel nodded. “A black-wing came after the men. Lady Kara was unharmed. She’s safe behind a reinforced ward for now, but she won’t come to Mercury Island, and she asked for all guards to be removed from the city.”
Gavin ran a hand through his hair. That sounded like Kara. More bravery than brains when it came to protecting herself. “Aiden said something about Julian?”
“Yes. That’s the strangest part, my lord. The lady swears he’s returned—claims it was a Shadow Rising.”
The frantic beat of wings alerted Gavin to the messenger before he felt him coming. The silver-wing threw open the door and locked eyes with Gavin. “My lord, Lord Aiden is struggling to wake, but he can’t keep his eyes open for long. He says Lady Kara is summoning him with urgent need.”
“Where is she?” he asked.
“Her apartment in the city, he thinks.”
Gavin sucked in a breath. Kara. That was all he needed to know. He drew his sword and flashed.
Chapter Thirteen
Kara was frantic, her pulse skipping, and her forehead pounding. When she heard the sound of banging at the door, she threw on a white tank top and pulled up her jeans, then ran toward the front room to let Aiden in.
She cursed herself for not asking for Aiden’s help sooner. Maybe he knew what to do for Julian. She only hoped it wasn’t too late. She twisted the bolt lock and yanked the door open.
“Aide—” Her words stuttered to a stop when she saw another face framed in the entryway. The face of a man who’d haunted her thoughts and broken her heart. “Gavin?”
He held a sword, and his wings were still extended. Kara knew enough about the Demiáre now to know that he would be invisible to a
nyone who didn’t carry a trace of Aniliáre blood in their veins. It took her a minute to realize that neither one of them was speaking. Gavin simply locked eyes with her as if he couldn’t look away.
“Kara,” he said at last. “Are you hurt?”
She still couldn’t bring herself to say anything—she simply stepped aside so he could enter. He ducked his head slightly and walked into her apartment, scanning the rooms as he went.
“Were you calling for Aiden?”
Kara pulled out a dining chair and sat, hoping it would stop the room from spinning. “I did call Aiden. So why are you here, Gavin?” Why had he come back, and more importantly, where had he been these past nine weeks?
His shoulders were stiff, every muscle rigid, and he held his weapon as if he was expecting an enemy invasion. He usually tucked his wings away when he came indoors, but they were folded against his back. “Aiden is…indisposed. I came in his place. Have you really seen a black-wing in your city?”
“Seen one? I’ve practically been living with one the past couple of days.” Gavin’s brows shot up in response. “It’s Julian. He’s come back. And something’s wrong with him. He doesn’t even know who he is.”
“Kara…” He sheathed his sword and stepped closer to her, reaching his hand out to caress her shoulder. When she tensed at his touch, his face fell. He curled his hand into a fist and stepped back. “It can’t be Julian.”
“Well, it is.”
He shook his head and went to stare out the dark windows of the balcony doors. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but the chance that Julian has risen is almost nil compared to the chance that another Aniliáre has taken his form.”
Kara stood and joined him at the window. She needed to look into his eyes. “It’s him, Gavin. I’ve never been as sure of anything.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do. Can a black-wing access Julian’s memories?”
“No, not now that he’s gone. But that’s why it would make perfect sense to play as though he’d lost his memory.”
