Shadow Rising

by Cassi Carver

  Claudius laughed, and then from behind Kara, she heard a sickening thunk and Tray fell at her side, clutching his head. Blood stained his fingers and ran over his knuckles.

  Claudius nudged the gun to his left with his foot, and Sage bent to retrieve it. She cast the gun into the scrub and twined her arm around his.

  He chuckled, seeming truly delighted. “You know, Kara, if Tray’s people hadn’t been tracking you, we might never have known you had a weak Aniliáre within your reach.”

  So many questions went through her head. The first was why he wanted the blood for himself, and the second was, who in the hell were “Tray’s people”? But before she could ask, two burly men grabbed her arms and wrestled them behind her back. She fought it, but they twisted so hard, she knew they were on the verge of dislocating her shoulders. When they had her hands where they wanted them, she felt some kind of sharp strip cinch her wrists together.

  “Why are you doing this?” Her brain couldn’t keep up with what was happening around her. Tray was hurt and bleeding. The vial was empty, lying in the dirt near Claudius’s feet. And Claudius and Sage were smiling like someone had strapped birthday hats on their heads and yelled, “Surprise!” This was Abbey’s flippin’ uncle, for fuck’s sake.

  He didn’t answer Kara’s question but simply took two steps forward and tugged the cords from around her neck. “Which one is the black-wing’s charm?”

  “I don’t have it.”

  His smile grew dangerous. “Don’t lie to me.”

  “I swear I don’t.”

  Sage sidled up to him and stared at the charms. “Are you sure you can work them?”

  Claudius glanced sideways at her. “Of course. I’ve been studying nex veneficus since I was old enough to drive a car. But we need to get into position before we summon the Fallen.”

  The next thing Kara knew, they were tweaking her arms behind her back, using them to steer her into the cave. Tray still wasn’t alert enough to walk, so they carried him, grumbling about how much he weighed and how he’d be much lighter if they cut him into pieces. It was crystal clear that Claudius had never wanted to use the blood to help Abbey, but the rest was a murky mess.

  Kara recognized the tunnel at first and the red markings on the walls, but instead of turning left this time to go to the room with the sparkling stalactites, they veered off to the right, going deeper into the mountain. When they got to a heavy metal door, the already bleak atmosphere around her changed for the worse. Evil pushed out from beyond the frame of the door like skeletal fingers raking down her face.

  When they pushed her inside, it looked like the set of a medieval movie. It couldn’t be real. Shackles hung from the walls, anchored to jagged gray stones. Different contraptions made of metal and wood were set about the large room, for uses she wouldn’t even begin to contemplate. Was that a…guillotine? It was no comfort that most of the apparatuses looked as if they hadn’t been used in years.

  Her gaze caught on something in the center of the room. It was a clean, black sheet of plastic surrounded by a white triangle, and it wasn’t even dusty yet from the dirt floor. Witch magic always used circles.

  As they shackled Tray to the wall, Claudius played with the charms in his hand. “If you really don’t have the black-wing’s charm, then we’ll have to call someone else to relay the message to him. This one, maybe?” He held Jaxon’s silver charm up to the flickering torchlight.

  “No,” Kara said quickly. Jaxon was with Abbey. Now more than ever he needed to protect her. “He doesn’t know how to contact Julian. That charm won’t help you.”

  Claudius frowned. “What about this one? The sun is the sign of Gavin Cross. Am I right? I think it would be fitting to call on Gavin since his brother Gable got you into this mess in the first place.”

  “Gavin is in the Shadowland, you won’t be able to get a hold of him there. Trust me, he was gone for nine weeks, and I tried.” It was a lie, but she couldn’t allow Gavin to be hurt along with her.

  “Well, this is the last one. The beetle.” He gestured to the guillotine. “Get her in position, and let’s get a move on.”

  Aiden paced the room. The spaces between his fingers were sweaty as he listened to Olivia’s cries of pain, and he wasn’t sure how much of his reaction was from coming off the blood and how much was concern for a lady of the clan.

  Another wail from her chambers. Was the damn child stuck? Was he going to have to cut Olivia open and deliver the child that way? She’ll heal, he said to himself, but with soothing as her only anesthetic, the thought made him sick. “By the wings of hell, what’s taking so long?”

  Ryen and Liel cast their gazes to Aiden at the same time, but Ryen spoke first. “Aren’t you supposed to be the one attending the birth of the child, my lord? You have the strongest gifts. Shouldn’t you be in there with Olivia instead of out here with us?”

  Aiden ran his fingertips over the deep gash in his temple. It was already mending, but he wasn’t excited about the idea of Olivia clawing his face again when he sat beside her. “I’m not sure she’s ready to accept my help quite yet.”

  And then there was the little issue that whether or not he had above average healing and gifting abilities, he’d never actually delivered a Demiáre child—and certainly not the first of the clan. This child was the ultimate symbol that they could thrive as a people on the surface, autonomous and free from their black-wing sires.

  Liel smiled. “Perhaps you might try again. If it were my child with Riana, I would want you there to seal the boy’s gifts when he was born. Surely, that must be worth a scratch or two.”

  “A scratch, Liel? She cut me down to the bone.” But still, they were right. “Yes, I’ll—” He frowned and paused where he stood. Kara? Kara was summoning him now? “Shit. That woman is a pain in my ass.”

  Ryen growled, looking Aiden straight in the eye. “She is my lady, and I ask you to treat her with more respect, my lord.”

  Aiden grimaced. This was the only time he would ever excuse such insolence. “Not Olivia. Lady Kara.”

  “Is something the matter?” Liel asked.

  “What’s the matter is being bound to answer the call of a lady who has renounced our clan. And yet, she won’t be happy until she has all three lords dancing attendance on her—even Julian back from the grave. Now I’m supposed to hold her hand while she weeps over his departure?”

  He glanced at the captain of the guard, while Ryen just looked confused. Thankfully, not all the men knew of Gavin and Julian’s infatuation with Kara. “I’ll bet you ten gold pieces, Liel, that she wants to know if Julian made it safely and how soon he can visit.”

  Liel shook his head. “Last time she called you, she was reporting grounded warriors. Make it five, and I’ll take that bet.”

  Aiden sighed. Five gold pieces was barely worth the trip. “I’ll be back before you know it, Ryen, and I will seal the child’s gifts. Olivia doesn’t sound any worse, so I’d say we have a few minutes yet.” With a bow, he flashed.

  Kara was flat on her stomach on a narrow wooden bench, and her head was pinned between two pieces of wood, one below her neck, and one above, locking her into place. It was horrific to gaze down into the weathered basket and wonder how many heads it had caught before tonight—and if hers was going to be next. She’d heard beheading wasn’t a bad way to go. But then, she wasn’t ready to go in any way, shape or form.

  “Tray?”

  He didn’t answer. She couldn’t see him very well from where she was, but she had a prime view of the black plastic in the center of the room and a sickening feeling she knew what it was meant for.

  “Claudius, listen to me. Abbey and Grammy D are going to find out what you’re doing here, and when they do, your days of being high priest are up.”

  Claudius approached her from the side and ruffled her hair. She could only see his expensive black Oxfords. “You’re wrong. Whether or not you gave me the blood, Abbey was never going to be the high priestess. The few call
ing for me to step down and hand over her ‘rightful place’ aren’t going to be saying a word once they learn that I have the blood of the black-wing in my veins. A sorcerer who channels the power of the Fallen… To put it bluntly—who’s going to fuck with me now?”

  As if to illustrate his point, she felt his power rising, a blinding tornado of electric smoke, until he unleashed it straight into Kara. Her entire body convulsed as though she’d been struck by lightning. She screamed, feeling like he’d burned her from the inside out.

  “Taste the energy,” he said.

  And she did. It burned through her veins with threads of her bondmate’s blood. Julian’s essence was a part of Claudius now. He had the magic of the witches and the strength of the Aniliáre, all rolled into one sadistic, power-hungry package.

  “You bastard,” she rasped. “I don’t know what you have planned for Julian, but you’re going to be disappointed. He’s in the Shadowland now, and he won’t be returning. Chopping off my head isn’t going to bring him back to offer his blood to you on a shiny plastic platter.”

  She felt horrible that she’d gotten Tray involved in this, and worse that she wouldn’t be around to warn Abbey about her uncle’s plans. But one thing she would not allow was for them to use Julian like a milk cow. And not just because she loved him, but because she finally understood what Gavin was saying about Aniliáre blood in the wrong hands. She should have listened to him.

  “I think he’ll come for you, Kara. I’ve heard detailed reports of just how passionately he cares for you. Apparently, you two can really burn up the sheets. Out of everything, that’s my only regret—not getting to work your debt off in other ways. I’ve heard Demiáre females have very unique…anatomy.”

  “Hey,” Sage broke in. “I’m going to pretend that was just a joke.”

  Claudius chuckled. “Just a little psychological warfare, sugar. You know I’d never touch the Fallen.” But when Sage turned and stalked away, Claudius ran his hand up Kara’s thigh.

  Trapped in her wooden collar, Kara felt Aiden’s energy just a bare second before he emerged on the other side of the chalk triangle. His irritated expression melted away when he took in the room around him, his clever eyes missing nothing. “Hello, Kara. You rang? Having trouble with the gym equipment?”

  Claudius faced Aiden. “I called you, actually. And before you try anything, I should tell you that if you so much as look at me wrong, your friend, Kara, is going to get about a foot shorter—” he paused and laughed, “—er…make that a head shorter.”

  “Very well,” Aiden replied. “What can I do for you, Mr.…?”

  “Sellers. Claudius Sellers. I’m high priest of the Northwestern Coven. Soon to be high priest of the other three hemispheres as well.”

  Aiden smiled. “I like a man with aspirations. Do you have a business plan, Claudius?”

  “Yes, and the first item of business is to host a conference here at my office. Our special guest is your black-wing friend, Julian. I need you to get him here.”

  Aiden nodded. “I see. And you’re threatening to what, use that guillotine on Kara Reed if I don’t?”

  “You’re a smart man. I think we’ll work well together.”

  Kara squirmed in the stocks. “He’s had Julian’s blood, Aiden. Bringing Julian back won’t help.”

  The muscle in Aiden’s jaw twitched. “It’s unnatural for a child of the earth to take in the blood of the Aniliáre. I’ve seen it once or twice before, Claudius, and it never ends well.”

  “Thanks for your concern, Aiden. I’d love to hear more of your expert advice, but right now, I need you to bring Julian to me.” He lifted his hand, and the blade above Kara’s head made a sudden scraping hiss. She tensed, waiting for the end, but just an insta-second after it began, the blade froze.

  “You’ve made your point,” Aiden replied. “No need to play with your toys on my account. There might be an accident, and if you kill Kara, you won’t have any leverage left.”

  “True. But I’m not sure how much leverage I need now that I’m a changed man. Anyhow, I’m planning to take very good care of her. All I need is for you to send the black-wing along. And if anyone else comes with him, she’ll be dead before we finish introductions. This coven ground has been warded by the magic of a hundred witches. If your Fallen aren’t invited, their wings won’t work here anyhow.”

  Aiden nodded. “I understand. But just to warn you, it might take a while to get Julian here. He was extremely weak when he left, and we never anticipated he’d be returning so soon. I’m assuming if we lose him to the Abyss, that would throw a wrench into your plans.”

  “I can’t deny that. I’d say I want that blood almost as much as your clan wants this female. So why don’t you head out and do what I’ve asked? It’s getting cold in this damn cave.”

  Aiden met Kara’s eyes. “Goodbye, Kara. It’s good to have you back in the clan.”

  After Aiden flashed, Kara’s only thoughts were for Julian. She hoped his inability to tolerate the surface would be the same thing that kept him safely in the Shadowland.

  She tried not to groan and give Claudius or Sage the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt to have her neck stretched out between the thick boards. If she rested her neck muscles, the wood cut into her throat. With her hands still tied behind her back, if she continued to lift her head, it was equally agonizing.

  She thought she’d moaned anyway until she realized it was coming from Tray. “Tray! Are you all right?”

  “I’m okay, Kare-bear. But I think my wrists and shoulders aren’t doing so good. You?”

  She swallowed, feeling her throat move over the stocks. “Peachy.”

  Claudius looked up from a leather-bound book he’d left lying open on a rough wooden table. Kara’s eye sockets were straining as she tried to track his movement across the room. She lost him when he got to where Tray’s voice was coming from.

  “Sleeping Beauty is awake,” Sage said, her tone seductive and frightening.

  “Glad you’re still with us, Tray,” Claudius told him. “I didn’t want to miss the part where you explain to Kara how you were sleeping with my niece for over two years, all the while spying for the Southwestern Coven.”

  Kara’s head bobbed in the stocks. “What are you talking about?”

  “Tell her,” Sage purred. “Tell her how your people almost killed her, and you were feeding them information the entire time.”

  Kara was in such pain, her muscles quivery and cramping, it was hard to force her bravado. “More psychological warfare, Claudius? I’m not as stupid as you seem to think.”

  Kara saw the end of a thick pipe dragging through the reddish-brown dirt, then a second later, heard the sound of metal against flesh as Tray’s breath rushed out in a muffled cry. “Stop! Don’t hurt him,” she shouted.

  Claudius bent down to make eye contact with Kara. “We may need you a while longer, but I’m not thrilled with entertaining a spy from the south. If I gave a rat’s ass about Abbey, I’d actually be offended on her behalf.”

  “Tray,” Kara called. “Are you okay? Say something. Tell them they’re crazy.”

  “Yeah, lie to us,” said Sage. “And every time you do, you’re getting another pipe to the gut.”

  “I’m sorry, Kara,” he said quietly.

  She looked down into the dust-coated basket. “You’re a witch?”

  “I’m a warlock.”

  She couldn’t believe it. How could she not have sensed it? He was a warlock. A warrior-witch from another hemisphere.

  “You weren’t helping me this week,” Kara breathed. “You were staking me out.”

  “I was doing both. It’s not what you think. Just trust me.” Someone behind her hauled off and hit Tray again. If Kara could have freed her hands, she would have plugged her ears against the sound of his anguish.

  Once he caught his breath, she asked, “Why? How could you do this to Abbey? Did you ever care?”

  “Of course I care. And I tr
ied to help you the best I could.”

  Kara ground her teeth together. “Those witches who followed me to New York were doing death magic—nex veneficus. They tried to kill me! They were no better than Claudius!”

  “Hey,” Claudius protested, looking at Kara with his head canted sideways like hers. “You don’t need to be mean just because you’re upset.”

  “I’m not defending them, Kara,” Tray said. “But there was a bounty on your head, because nobody wanted you to get that blood for Claudius. I think now you see why. And I was looking out for you.”

  “Oh, please, Tray. Save it for someone who’ll believe you.”

  Kara didn’t want to listen to more, but he continued. “I helped you the night the Southwestern Coven coven tried to clobber you with the beam. I could have let you get in that car with Johnson—he was sent to San Diego as my backup if I failed—and if you’d gotten in the car with him, that probably would have been the last ride you ever went on. I washed your blood from the blankets so he couldn’t use them to put a spell on you. I took care of the body when I found the dead bounty hunter in the alley that you speared with a crowbar.”

  “I had no idea he’d been such a busy boy,” Claudius commented to someone Kara couldn’t see. “Please, Tray, don’t leave us hanging like this. Enlighten us about the other accidents and the witches in New York. It’s been torture watching from the sidelines like this, wondering if Kara could outsmart the other idiots involved and get me the blood.”

  “Kara, you have to believe me,” Tray pleaded. “I didn’t know about the New York witches or the other accidents Abbey mentioned. Once the bounty hunters got involved, it got really complicated, really fast. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?” Her mouth hung open.

  “That’s wonderful, Tray,” Claudius said. “Make your peace with her before you go.”

  “Claude,” Tray bit out, “you’re the fucking idiot. I just thought you should know that.”