“What are you talking about?” Nicki hissed. He was speaking riddles to her. What did he mean, she didn’t like anger in others? And what about Rachel? Were all of Mina’s family this strange?
“Look at her.” Lev nodded toward Rachel.
“Yeah? She’s working, Einstein,” Nicki shot back, crossing her arms and taking a step back from the Dark. She had a feeling his abilities were affecting her, and distance would be key to keeping her own control.
“Yes. But she’s been on her feet all day.” Lev’s eyes narrowed as the subject of their whispered discussion leaned further over the bowl, hands on either side of it. “She didn’t have the power or the energy to scry when she arrived. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.” He moved closer to Nicki, and she found herself taking a step back to keep her distance.
She halted. She wasn’t backing down from any man.
“What? No. I didn’t notice,” Nicki admitted, not liking the heat of embarrassment passing over her. She’d been so caught up dealing with Lev, she hadn’t paid attention. A part of her knew her friend arrived tired and irritable—standard for a nurse. It didn’t occur to her to think that scrying would be difficult for Rachel. Hell, she couldn’t even control her Mage abilities. But come to think of it, they were worse when she was tired or upset. She frowned, not liking where this was going. “Of course you noticed.”
He gave a short nod and glanced over at her friend, whose shoulders tensed as she continued to look into the bowl.
“Anger, lust, joy—all extreme emotions call up adrenaline, our natural energy. I didn’t have time to seduce her. Laughter doesn’t last long. But anger…” His lips curved again as his eyes slid toward Rachel. Is he looking at her ass? “…stays awhile, and now she’s fueled by righteous indignation, her fatigue gone even as a part of her dreams up all sorts of dire things for me.”
“You don’t have to sound so…pleased about it,” Nicki shot back just as Rachel cried out.
“I found her!”
Conversation forgotten, Nicki and Lev hurried over to Rachel, her face pale, purple circles under her eyes. When was the last time this girl slept?
“Where?” Lev wanted to know.
Rubbing her eyes with one hand, Rachel looked back into the bowl. If Nicki wasn’t mistaken, her friend was at the end of her rope.
“She’s with a Mage. It’s hard to see through their magic.”
With that statement, Rachel collapsed as if the air had been released all at once from a balloon. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Lev caught her in his arms as Nicki glared at him.
“Anger lasts? Now you get to fix this, Dark.” She knew this pissed him off, but she didn’t care. One friend was still missing and another out of commission. Could this get any worse? Nicki already knew that answer: Yes.
Xander didn’t want to go with her. Mina felt it like the sticky taste of syrup at the back of her throat. They stood in the twilight of the shadow world, frozen. They didn’t have long; the monsters would find them soon.
“Mina, we need to find someplace to hole up. We don’t have time to ask questions.” Xander tried to be patient. She could tell because it tasted like chalk to her. Dry. His mouth was thinned, darkening his blue eyes; his voice was calm, reasonable. Internally, his emotions roiled: rage, grief, desperation, and regret tumbled together, fighting for release. She’d managed to keep most of his temper at bay, but he was getting wise to her tricks to bleed emotion from him.
“I need to find answers.” She frowned at him. Didn’t he understand? They both had to know this information. She didn’t know why, but it was important. The urge to follow this thread, to find this past she’d always subconsciously known, beat at her like bird’s wings. “We have to do it now. If we don’t, we may never get the chance again.”
“Your father is fighting a war. When will you get this?” Xander’s voice hardened. “He doesn’t have time. Seeing me will piss him off.”
“He won’t hurt you,” Mina assured him. “I promise you, he’ll help us.”
“If I were him, I’d kill me.” Xander didn’t move. “So, I’m saying no.”
Sometimes she wanted to kick him. In fact, that’s just what she did. Right in the shin. He swore and moved out of her way.
“All of this is connected,” Mina told him before he could speak. “That’s why my false mother, Elspeth, wants me dead. Why the Chairman is getting strange. Xander, you know this. You feel it. We have to find out.” Mina tried to explain it in a simple way, because obviously he was going to be thick-headed about this whole thing. She ignored the tingle of unease rippling down her spine, making her shiver and telling her to back off. The need to find out the truth outweighed anything else, but could she accept the price of pushing this? Yes, she told herself. Yes.
“And what are we going to do about it?” Xander shot back. He didn’t bother containing his emotions, and they exploded out of him, sharp as daggers. “It’s not like we have anyone in our corner.”
“We do,” Mina insisted. “Misha and his bonded, Laurie.”
“I had him shot,” Xander bit out. “It’s safe to say that will certainly guarantee my death warrant.”
“Voda will—”
“Save his own ass.” Xander glared at her. She didn’t like it when he gave her that look. It made her uncomfortable, as if she’d given the wrong answer on a test. “He’s not going to help us.”
“Why do you keep thinking no one will help us?” Mina looked up at the angry man. She didn’t try to pull his emotions away. It would make him worse. “They will, if they know the truth.” And she was still tied to Laurie, something she was smart enough not to bring up.
“What truth?” he exploded, his voice echoing in the silence of the shadow world.
“I don’t know.” Mina crossed her arms. “But we have to find out.”
He turned away from her. The internal struggle within him not to become violent a tangible web. She didn’t back down.
“There are bodies being found. It’s not just Darks, but Elementals, and they’ve been experimented on. It all connects. About us, about the truth, we have to try to—”
“Save the world?” Xander mocked. “With what? A nosy Darkling and a traitorous Mage?”
“The world has been saved with far less.” Mina put a hand on his back, and it vibrated with his frustration, making her fingers tingle. Maybe he won’t notice. With a deft movement, she tugged away some of the darker emotions barring him from listening to her. She didn’t consume these because they were bitter and made her nauseous. “We can’t run; they’ll find us. We may die, but I’d rather say we tried than not try at all.”
He silently turned to look at her. For a moment, everything stood immobile. Neither of them took a breath for a space of a heartbeat. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, Xander’s emotions settled into resolve. “You’re right, Mina.” He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. The brush of his lips made a flutter of something ripple through her body. “I’m not one to run. Let’s go find your answers. Save the world or whatever the hell else you have planned. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
Mina smiled and slipped her hand into Xander’s, but he didn’t move. Instead, he pulled her flush with his body.
“Mina.” The vibration of his voice traveled the length of her. He didn’t wait for her answer. “If you take emotions from me again, without asking or telling me, I will transfigure you. For twenty-four hours, you’ll either be a bat, bunny, or bird, and you won’t have a choice. Do you understand me?”
She nodded, swallowing. So, he did notice.
“I didn’t hear you.”
“Yes,” she whispered, her breath touching his lips.
The lids of Xander’s eyes lowered, and something hungry swept through their blue depths. He smiled and touched her lips with his as he murmured, “Good.”
When he stepped away, Mina stood momentarily bereft. She could’ve sworn he had the same abilities as a Shad
ow Nymph—removing emotions. She felt empty, a thin remnant of herself, as delicate as a paper cup dried of its contents and easily blown away by any strong wind, without him near to keep her grounded. Shaking it off, she grabbed his hand and parted the doorway, tugging him through. Finally, he was seeing sense.
They landed in the middle of chaos.
Chapter Eleven
THIS WASN’T GOING TO GO WELL.
Thomas Voda knew this as soon as he found himself standing on a cracked sidewalk outside a beige brick building nestled in a small-hilled valley. Outwardly, this area appeared as a state highway rest area. Humans used it, never recognizing the heavy spells of illusion and re-direction. Great oak and cedar trees towered over stone tables and benches for picnicking travelers. A large parking lot was surprisingly filled in the deepening of twilight, the deep purple blush of shadows darkening to black. The air smelled of disinfectant from the public restrooms and exhaust from cars and trucks. He couldn’t miss the sizzle of energy from the Boundary just beyond the building. It felt like static electricity, making the hairs on his forearms stand up. Even at his most powerful, he couldn’t force a crossing. Instead, he had to be cleared. Usually his position allowed him a more prestigious checkpoint at a City Hall. Not today.
He should be thankful it wasn’t a truck stop with heavy vehicles and dubious clientele. The young Tri he’d exerted the extra effort into transporting sagged against him, a leaden, unwanted weight. Thomas was ready to drop, fatigue making gravity feel a hundred times heavier than it was. Instead, he steadied the boy.
“We’re almost inside,” he said. The young man didn’t respond, but he managed to keep his feet moving when they walked forward. Thomas gripped his briefcase firmly in his hand as it dragged at him. The extra energy siphoned from this Tri-elemental had been expended in the transport. At this point, he wasn’t sure who was supporting whom.
He had enough power to put a slight glamour on them to prevent the humans from noticing their sudden strange appearance. The words of the spell were difficult to enunciate in his fugue state, but he managed. The two of them lurched toward the ugly squat building when he spied two figures approaching. One was medium height, compact build in an off-the-rack blue suit, his dark hair cropped short. Following him was an older man in khakis and a sport coat.
They stopped in front of him and the boy, halting their progress. The glamour spell didn’t appear to affect their perceptions, because they looked directly at them and not past them.
“Thomas Voda?” The younger man in the suit spoke in a heavily accented voice. He shouldn’t be surprised. It was Petrov’s right to staff the crossing points with those of his own choosing—the Russian mob.
Thomas nodded, reluctant to reveal himself, but realizing he didn’t have much choice. He reminded himself it had been his decision. No one forced him to come to Mikhail.
“I am Gregori.” The Russian’s eyes slowly rotated through the color spectrum—a Tri. An icy prickle of unease made Thomas clear his throat. Why couldn’t it have been one of the weaker Elementals or even a lesser Mage who’d work for anyone who paid well enough? But Petrov wasn’t a fool. He never cut corners, which made him a fantastic ally and an enemy to be feared.
“I’m here to cross. I’ve got an appointment with Mikhail Petrov.” Of course they knew this, but as the boy sagged against him, he felt the need to state the obvious. He didn’t miss the narrowing of the other man’s eyes.
“We’ve been told to expect you. Who’s this with you?”
“The Tri assigned to my household.” He couldn’t help the hard edge of defensiveness. Damn Mina and her interventions. If she hadn’t interrupted, he wouldn’t be in this mess. She had a gift for destroying well-laid plans and lives. A part of him pitied Xander.
The older man, a water Elemental—Thomas could tell by the smoothly cool energy around him—stepped forward and slid a shoulder under the boy’s free arm. He didn’t look at anyone but Gregori as he pulled him away.
“He’s close to burn out. He needs a healer and balance.” His eyes flicked to Thomas. “What did you do? Drain him?”
Hesitating, Thomas knew their reactions to what his kind did to their Tri-elementals. He was prevented from answering by Gregori. The man leaned forward and pushed down the edge of the cotton shirt the boy wore, revealing the reddened and raw area encircling his neck.
“It is obvious you siphoned from him; I can tell the stink of it.” His eyes were brightening, moving faster through colors, showing his agitation. “Where is his collar?”
“I took it off.” They didn’t have to know it wasn’t him; Thomas figured it occurred in the same room and counted for something.
Gregori straightened up and frowned at him. When he spoke, his accent thickened with his contempt. “Good. If you came here with a collared Tri, I couldn’t guarantee your safety.”
Thomas kept silent. He was used to volatility, and his mission was important—too important to battle it out here in a public place.
The Russian pulled a cell phone from his inner pocket. “One moment.” He stepped away, talking in his native tongue. Thomas studied Russian when he was younger, but the man spoke too fast for him to keep up. Beside him, the barely conscious boy and the man supporting him waited. He didn’t bother with small talk. What was the point?
Disconnecting his phone, Gregori turned with a slight smile. It made Thomas wonder if he should’ve faced the Chairman’s security team instead.
“I have spoken with Petrov, and he has given orders.” He beckoned two men who’d been emptying trashcans over as he spoke.
“What did he say?” Thomas looked at the approaching men, both strong Elementals, and back to the Tri. “When can I cross?”
“As soon as I make sure you are no threat.” Gregori nodded to the two men who flanked Thomas. “Take him to the detention room. This shouldn’t take long.”
Thomas’s hand clenched around the handle of the briefcase he held. There was no going back, but he wasn’t sure there would be enough of him left to do so even if he wanted to.
The soft click of dice rolling around in his right hand echoed in the cavernous room. Laurie’s skin prickled at the savagery of his emotions rolling through the bond connecting them. How could a man be so outwardly calm?
Mikhail stood before a wall of glass wearing his customary gray Armani, his face smooth, his shoulders relaxed. He stared out over an impressive view of Monthaven; the homes and businesses scattered in the valley below crept up the sides of the hills and mountains like a technological fungus in the deepening twilight. Twinkling lights dotted the areas unaffected by the Mage explosion that had taken out a large portion near the mall and business area. The outlying areas were alive, giving the darkened patch a sinister look.
Laurie stood next to him, her nose crinkling at the strong odor of fresh paint on the unadorned cream-colored walls.
I can’t blame him.
Rage simmered in and around him like a low hum. It spread slowly over Laurie like a blanket. She hadn’t been able to shake it. He’d contained some of it when her wounds healed, but he’d only redirected it.
Still the soft clack of those damn dice. At this point she’d prefer the cigar.
“Misha.” She laid her hand on his back, and her hand tingled.
“I was fifteen when my fate was first decided by the roll of the dice,” he said in a low, conversational tone.
Words died on her lips. She didn’t know what to say; he’d never spoken about his past except early on when he’d started training her. She kept silent letting him speak.
“I was a great prize. Many Mages siphoned from me. I almost died more than once.”
“That’s awful,” Laurie whispered as she leaned into him. Thunder rolled in the distance, a response to the image of him collared and abused.
“Do you know what I told myself?” He glanced at her, sliding one arm around her, holding her close to his tense body. She looked up him, waiting for his answer and watchin
g his lips move as he spoke.
“I told myself if I lived, I would never again be helpless.” He looked at the soft-edged bits of carved bone in his hand and put the infernal dice into his pocket. “Now I find myself unable to do what must be done.”
He lifted his hand, and with his calloused thumb, he stroked the new white scars on her lip, nose, and eyebrow. Mouth twisting down as he gazed at her, eyes glowing, he fed her an image so clear it was as if she stood before it.
A day when the sky was so blue it hurt the eyes and the air so cold her skin burned. On a refuse heap, cradling a withered, broken body, wrapped in a torn and bloody blanket.
Katya.
She wasn’t sure she heard the name, but it ebbed through her mind with waves of emotion—impotent grief, rage, and despair so deep that tears welled up in her eyes. Reality snapped back as his mind released her, and she looked up into his face as he struggled with his memory.
His fear and helplessness was as tangible as the hand on her face.
“I’m not your sister,” Laurie said in a soft voice. “I won’t break.”
“You can break me.”
For a moment, she didn’t think she heard those words. Mikhail wasn’t one to admit a weakness, even to her. “If I could, I would give you all of my power.” Laurie would do anything to remove the shadowed look from the depth his eyes.
“Miliya, it is not only power I speak of. Although, that is not bad.” He smiled then, a shadow of his former charming self. “Power is not only magic or elements. It is finding out what the cost is. I need to know what price it will take to break this tie with the Dark. I will not lose you.”
“We will break it,” she promised. But what the hell did she know about breaking a damn blood tie? For all she knew, it involved irate chickens and dodgy sounding incantations. “I called Nicki while you were seeing to the building of the new Boundary room.” She stroked his cheek at his frown. Her friend was a Mage and roommate to the Darkling who created this blood tie—the cause of her recent injuries. She didn’t agree with his unhappiness at her comment, but she understood it.
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