She knew everyone watched her. Could feel the weight of their eyes as she struggled to tip the glass and swallow the contents. With a sense of the absurd, she wondered if this was what the field goal kicker felt like in football when it was up to him to score the winning points. It was all on her. Shutting her eyes, she opened her mouth and poured the contents down her throat.
Disgusting didn’t cover it.
Thick, hot, metallic-tasting, warm curdled milk. She gagged.
She wasn’t going to throw up. No.
For a long moment, biology fought with her determination. Her body wanted this horrible tasting, unnatural substance out of her right this second. She knew without being told if she allowed herself to expel it, they’d have to do it again.
She swallowed. Twice.
Done.
“Here.” Mikhail gave her a shot glass of vodka. She didn’t even think, but chased the foul-tasting blood with a sip of alcohol.
Not good, but not too bad.
She almost missed it. The quiet snap, like a button popping off within her, and the constant tiny connection she’d felt, a low hum, was gone. Her scars tingled. She put a hand to her face; they were still there. Her eyes flicked to Mina.
“It’s done. The blood-tie is broken,” the Darkling told her in a hushed voice.
“That’s it?”
The female Mage, Nicki, he thought her name was, sounded surprised.
Thomas Voda wanted to shake his head. These days many of their younger generation weren’t getting the proper training. But he’d have to look into her past; he thought he knew all strong Mage families here in the southeast. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place the face. There had to be a trail. Very few Mage- or Elemental-born were untraceable; those who were had a history of rebellion.
He watched the red-haired Elemental, Laurie. Power thrummed through her, making her skin glow. She was the rare exception of falling through the cracks. It made him wonder how many other bastards were out there from one-night stands with humans. Or was it some genetic quirk? A question long debated among Mage scientists.
“Yes.” Mina smiled, picking up the open bag of some awful-looking orange things.
Occasionally he’d indulge in potato chips, but anything with that sort of color should be avoided on principle alone. Mina looked well—surprising, if what he heard was true. Staying in the dungeons with Xander, she was either a fool or had more strength than he’d attributed to her.
His eyes swung back to Laurie, studying her. How much of this glow were the elements and how much her pregnancy? He didn’t doubt Mina. The girl always had a way about her, like her mother did. Should he tell them? Mikhail stood next to her. He no longer carried the Elements but was still someone to be wary of. A part of him wanted to see them both suffer because of what they did to him. Drained of a majority of his power, he could barely call up a spell to communicate with other members of the Board. No, Petrov hadn’t endeared himself to him, but he was his only option.
But if Laurie could come to term, this would be the first birth of a bonded pair in centuries. This could help his ailing race. How many times had his wife conceived only to spontaneously abort? Too many. There had been three births, and only one lived for an hour. No amount of magic could keep them strong enough to survive. But this fresh blood and energy of an Elemental could do wonders.
Not that they would be willing to have their children submit to siphoning. Thomas absently rubbed his chin as he thought. There hadn’t been a live Mage birth in ten years. What option did he have? None.
“Petrov,” Thomas called, and the tall Russian gave him a cool look as Laurie was surrounded by her friends. An odd group, if you asked him. One of those pathetic human witches, an untrained Mage, and a Dark. Not a good group at all.
“Voda,” Mikhail returned in his slight mocking tone of his. The man wasn’t going to make this easy on him.
He moved closer, not wanting to shout this information. “You know the risk of an Elemental carrying all four elements?” A part of him hoped the Russian would rebuff him. This way, he wouldn’t feel guilty about the results. He’d tell himself he’d tried, but he knew he’d continue to reach him. It wasn’t only about Elementals, but about his people.
“What about me carrying all four?” Laurie challenged as she turned around, green eyes bright.
Her skin was a beautiful cream. When Thomas had been younger, he liked redheads. But this was an Elemental and ultimately beneath him. Not that he’d tell her or Petrov this.
“Yes, Voda, tell us,” Mikhail encouraged with the slightest edge of sarcasm.
Thomas had to swallow once not to respond sharply. He was a Mage, but here he was a servant. But the fate of his race was far more important than his ego.
“She’ll lose the unborn children if she holds on to the elements.” He settled on blunt. “You are the first bonded pair in over a century.” He didn’t go into detail why, assuming they didn’t want to hear how they’d siphoned every last drop from any Cogent Elemental they found. He’d tasted one once—the energy sustained him for years. “You’re going to have to share the power.”
“But how—” Laurie started, but at a sharp glance from Mikhail, she fell silent.
“Even if she wasn’t a Cogent, she’d have this risk,” Thomas pressed on. He addressed Laurie, but her gaze didn’t make him as uneasy as Petrov’s. “Didn’t he tell you?” Laurie shook her head. “Fifty to sixty percent of all pregnancies end in a spontaneous abortion; this is true for all races. But as a bonded pair, you have an advantage many Elementals don’t.”
“It’s true,” Mina added. She still held the bag of orange food. “It’s the magic; it’s too much.”
“That’s terrible,” Laurie breathed as she rubbed her stomach.
“You Mages helped perpetuate this travesty,” Mikhail interrupted. “By keeping secrets. Tell us, Voda, this secret of sharing our power.”
Thomas knew he smiled. It wasn’t often he could get one over on the Russian. Even as a young man, Petrov had been hard to manipulate. As an adult, it was practically impossible.
“Why do you think we don’t want Cogents and Tri-elementals bonding? Their purpose was for both of them to wield the four elements together, not singly. Once you’ve bonded, we can’t access your energy to siphon.” He didn’t miss the flash of triumph in Mikhail’s eyes. “You have to want to share. Remember when you gave her all of the elements?” Thomas hadn’t been there, but he’d heard and seen the video. Not much to see, but he knew it was magic. “It’s a connection based on trust. Similar to how the bond was formed. You have to open yourselves to each other.”
“This sounds like some sort of pop-psychology class,” Nicki muttered.
Thomas didn’t answer as Laurie looked up at Mikhail.
“It’s that simple?”
“Laurie.” Mikhail’s sardonic tone returned. “Simple doesn’t mean easy.”
“But it does mean hope.” She looked down at her still-flat stomach.
Thomas tried not to let the flair of compassion get too strong within him. He’d given enough information. Mikhail Petrov was a smart man. He didn’t have to tell them if either of them resisted the transfer, it could still kill the unborn and injure them both.
Chapter Twenty-Three
PETROV WAS A FUCKING IDIOT.
Why the hell would he take him in now? Shirtless, Xander stood at the window of the luxurious bedroom where he’d been placed. It wasn’t a dank and foul-smelling cell like he’d been kept in under Cazacul. No, this was all sleek lines, of high-end Danish modern décor. A place he’d normally be comfortable in, but now was just another damn prison.
He’d have killed someone in his position. What was Mikhail’s game? He wanted him for something, or he’d have let him die—or helped him to that end. Right now, all Xander could do was wait, and it was beginning to piss him off.
He didn’t want to admit it, but the warmth from the sun streaming through the window felt inv
igorating on his scarred bare skin, a caress after the harshness of night. His view was over the tops of trees to the valley below, the thickness of the growth hiding all sorts of secrets of human, Elemental, and Dark. He’d be hard pressed to go underground anytime soon. Energy danced around the house and room. He knew the Elemental side, but the other he wasn’t familiar with. He’d known when the blood-tie had broken with Mina and Laurie—spells coming undone have their own signature—but he’d been too weak to attend. Now he was almost at full strength and still couldn’t push past the wards to pinpoint what else he sensed but couldn’t place.
The heavy thump of rotors in the distance told him the human military were engaging their helicopters. Not unusual, since a small military training base was located not far from here. But it bothered him.
A movement out of the corner of his eye had him jerking around. His heart beat a bit faster, elevating his already unpleasant mood.
“Who is it?”
No answer. He didn’t expect one. This had been going on since he’d been conscious. Glimpses of someone out of his periphery. It reminded him strongly of someone he knew, but he couldn’t catch it. Was this the result of the torture? Or was his mind finally fracturing under too much magic and pain? He dismissed the idea. He may be weakened, but he sure as hell wasn’t insane.
Disgusted, he pulled out a new white cotton T-shirt still in its plastic package. His mouth twisted in distaste as he tore the plastic. He preferred higher-quality fabric. He pulled it on anyway; what he wanted wasn’t a priority here. The mirror before him showed the bright pink gouges and the bright pink flesh of scars still-healing scars. No longer did he have smooth skin over muscle; now it was roughened and disfigured. No healer could get rid of this damage completely—not injuries done with the assistance of magic. His arms and legs were more demonstrations of the Dark’s fury and mercilessness. Only his face and neck remained unblemished.
This was war, after all.
There. In the mirror right behind him stood a boy—no, a child, really. Xander’s muscles froze. Not out of fear, for any such emotion was ripped from him in the last few days, at least for himself. This was shock.
It was him, when he’d been about thirteen.
Blue eyes he knew so well stared back into his. Xander didn’t turn to look, just watched as the boy shook his head, giving him a sad smile. Ice flowed through his veins as the boy’s skin cracked and began to crumble.
He must’ve said something, made a noise, because the image disappeared.
It was his “other self,” as Mina called it, and instead of grief this time, impotent rage licked through him. Caused by Dark or Mage magic, he didn’t know. He reminded himself he’d been bloodied and drained for an extended period. He may be stronger than most Mages, but even he needed time for recovery.
An excuse. That’s all it is.
This manifestation was stronger than ever before. No longer were his nightmares relegated to his dream state. Why should he be surprised? He’d been in one for God only knew how long. And who put him there? As if reading his mind, Mina opened the door to his room and slipped in.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he watched her with narrowed eyes as she entered. A part of him blamed her for where he was. It was a childish emotion, because he knew he’d put himself here. He found it interesting his door wasn’t locked. It made him realize Petrov didn’t think he was a threat.
“You’re always so angry,” Mina said.
For the past few days, she’d kept her hair smooth, making her dark eyes bigger. He missed the spikes of it. Today, she wore a short dress of deep green. Jewel tones suited her, bringing out the richness of her hair and making her lips seem even more red. It was the length of her legs, long and slender, which caught his eye. This wasn’t a child but a woman—a very beautiful woman with no shoes. Unbidden, an image of those same long legs wrapped around…He jerked his eyes from them.
“Considering you’re responsible for much of what’s happened lately, I’d say it’s a safe bet I’m going to stay this way.”
A small frown marred her features. It was the only indication she felt guilty.
“I told you I was sorry.” Her voice, once lighthearted, was now softer, lower. He ignored the small warning within telling him to not be such a shit.
“You always are.” He made his tone harsh to match the words.
Mina flinched, but it didn’t stop her from coming further into the room. When she stood before him, she placed a hand on his forearm. Her skin was smooth and cool on his.
“I have done what I can to fix it all,” she told him with a smile.
Xander knew she was trying to win him over. He told himself he wasn’t in the mood. “What do you want?” He softened a bit under the touch of her hand, his body’s reaction to what he’d been through, especially the last week or two. Hers had been the only hands to touch him with gentleness. Damn biology.
Tilting her head, she smiled up at him. He noticed the origami in her hair, nestled off to the side like some barrette, but it twitched, showing magic still animated it. His eyes slid to her lips. He knew sharp teeth lay behind them, and inexplicably, his anger turned into something more dangerous. Lust.
The urge to pull her to him was strong. No longer was she the young Dark he’d protected. Now she was a woman…who protected him.
“Have you spoken with Misha?” Mina asked.
Her tongue touched her lip, and something tightened deep within Xander. His blood no longer circulated in his brain, but to the far more imprudent head of his anatomy.
“No.” His answer was absent as focus narrowed on the slender curve of her neck. “Why?”
“I think he wants you to help with the negotiations between Mages and Darks.” She slid a hand up his arm, and his flesh tingled where she touched. For a second, he forgot about his marred skin. Instead, he breathed in her scent—citrus and sweet, with the faint hint of something spicier.
It was the subtle movement of her other hand pulling a reddish, smoke-like, wriggling thing from him which clued him in.
“You’re taking my emotions,” Xander ground out. The anger she’d removed surreptitiously reformed in a rush. He caught both her hands to his, jerking her flush with him.
She gave a small squeak, and her dark eyes widened. A strange tinge of regret settled in his heart. He didn’t like the look of fear on her face with him, further frustrating him.
“I told you what I’d do if you removed my emotions,” he said, his voice low and hard. He ignored how soft her body was next to his. How much he’d rather perch her on this dresser and show her another, more carnal, side of him. “This isn’t going to be easy for you.”
The spell came to his lips as if it had been waiting for this moment. He didn’t have to utter the words before the rush of his power filled him. He embraced a welcome tempest of energy.
The spell surrounded Mina, who was too surprised to utter a word. As her body trembled around him, he leaned over and quietly spoke to her.
“If Petrov wants me to be at the talks, he damn well better ask me himself.” At least he knew what the bastard was up to. Made sense—keep him in this gilded but warded prison and convince him to help the Russian Elemental. This kept Petrov’s ass out of the fire, but put Xander’s right back in it with his own people.
A shimmer of the air and Mina was no longer there. Instead, in his hand was a large, glossy black rabbit. As he held the warm, quivering animal, Xander thought he’d feel satisfaction. Instead, all he felt was remorse.
He wasn’t a Mage; he was a fool.
A bunny?
She hadn’t thought he’d follow through with his threat. This was Xander. He loved her; he wouldn’t do this. But he had.
Mina’s whole body felt squished and strange. Her nerve endings buzzed, and everything was so loud. The arms that held her were warm and strong, but her instinct was to get away. To run.
His anger at her was unnerving. Sure, he’d been exasperated with her, e
ven irritated, but not angry. She didn’t think calming him down would be a bad thing. It had certainly changed the way he looked at her—his eyes darkening to indigo, making her stomach flutter. She shouldn’t have gone for that last little bit of his emotion.
She totally miscalculated.
He moved with her in his arms, and it made her world shudder. Panic made her scratch and scrabble, as she couldn’t see directly in front of her. One eye caught his white shirt, the other the walls, giving her vertigo.
The jostling stopped, and she found herself on a firm surface—his lap. Long fingers stroked her now very small head and furred body. Slow and smooth. Even as her breathing came out in short pants.
Calm down, she told herself fiercely. This was another experience she could look back on and laugh about. After a few moments, the steady stroking calmed her, and her nose stopped twitching. Oh, how she wished she could itch it.
Scent was stronger. The chemical of the new, unwashed T-shirt Xander wore made her nose crinkle. Along with it was a taste of something else. Guilt. This was sour, similar to crabapples. A small measure of relief flooded Mina. At least she knew her abilities to sense emotion hadn’t been taken away, but now she couldn’t do anything with them.
All she wanted to do was help Xander. Didn’t he know that? She wished she could tell him, but in this state, the worst she could do was bite him, and she didn’t think that particular action would go over well.
There was nothing she could do but curl up in his lap. His body warmth was making her sleepy, but a small bit of anxiety wouldn’t let her rest. As her body trembled, Xander’s emotions wrapped around her, and they slid from one thing to the next—the tiny bite of anger, but also sadness, and something sweeter with a honey flavor.
Love.
He had a funny way of showing it.
Maybe it was wrong of her to interfere with his emotions. It wasn’t like she was consuming them. She preferred ingesting the emotions of strangers. Taking from those she knew usually resulted in unwanted feelings: bitterness, anger, and sorrow—not very tasty. She didn’t like it when Lev, her father, or even Elspeth had taken emotion from her.
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