This tunnel was completely dark, and only the sound of the air rushing by her head told her they were still flying. After what felt like an eternity, Sotz slowed the beating of his wings, and glided to a landing.
Ursula slid off the bat, falling to her knees on a dusty floor. Pure adrenaline pumped through her veins. “What was that creature? I couldn’t even see the bloody thing.”
Cera pulled something from her pocket—a glowing, violet crystal. From the stone, tendrils of magic snaked into the air, creating a sphere of light that illuminated the space.
Ursula surveyed the derelict subway platform, the space around them covered in broken wood and debris. “That creature,” Cera smoothed out her dress, trying to regain her composure, “was a dragon.”
Chapter 3
Ursula stared at Cera. “But I remember learning that dragons were extinct, and that’s why their wyrm-skin hides are so valuable. I was told they were all killed in the ninth century.”
Cera brushed the dust off her black dress. “Definitely not extinct.”
“I don’t understand.” She hugged herself, her body still buzzing with panic. “Why did it attack?”
Before Cera could answer, a heavy thud reverberated from the ceiling, and bits of plaster drifted down like snow.
Thud. “It’s followed us.” Cera looked up, shielding her eyes from the plaster dust. “We need to leave at once.”
Thud.
White dust rained down on Ursula’s clothes.
She scanned the platform, instinct kicking in at last. If there was one thing F.U. had seared into the lizard-part her brain, it was how to find the best escape route when danger closed in. In either direction, two tunnels curved off into the darkness. Her odds were fifty-fifty of choosing the best one.
Thud.
Thick chunks of plaster littered the floor, and her pulse sped up. We’re running out of time.
“Which way—” she started to ask, but the sight of Cera leaping down from the edge of the platform interrupted her. “Cera?”
“We always keep one of these around in case of emergencies,” she called out from under the platform’s ledge. Slowly, the oneiroi dragged a child’s play-pool onto the tracks. Murky water filled the blue plastic, and faded yellow seahorses and scallop shells decorated its sides.
Ursula gaped. “Are you going to bathe the dragon into submission?”
THUD! This time, a scratching noise followed the impact. It took a moment for her to realize the dragon was digging.
“Look,” said Ursula, raising her voice. “We need to run. It’s fifty-fifty odds. We just need to choose a direction.”
“Be quiet,” Cera hissed. “And take your clothes off.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“There is nowhere to run. Not in this realm, anyway.” The demon fixed silver eyes on her. “If we don’t go now, we will be eaten.”
Before Ursula could protest, Cera stood, holding up her violet crystal. The rippling water in the pool stilled. Black shadow magic curled over a glass-smooth surface.
Cera turned to hear again, her eyes sparking with irritation. “Why are you still wearing your clothes? I told you to strip.”
Bloody hell, woman. Another thud sounded from above, and chunks of masonry and plaster poured from the ceiling. Definitely running out of time. Screw it. She pulled her shirt over her head.
“Hurry!” Cera shouted, giving an unnerving display of her sharp teeth.
Ursula unzipped her jeans. “Will you at least explain the need for nudity?”
“No clothes may contaminate Nyxobas’s water.”
Ursula unhooked her bra just as a great crack split the air above them. She glanced up at a shimmering claw tearing through the ceiling. She tore off her knickers.
“Jump in!” Cera leapt into the center of the kiddy pool.
Completely nude, Ursula held her breath, and plunged into the black water.
Her feet didn’t hit the bottom of the pool—instead, she plummeted deeper into the inky water, sinking below the surface. Instinctively she shut her eyes, her chest clenching as frigid water completely enveloped her naked body.
How deep was this pool? She opened her eyes, searching for a point of reference in the pitch-black water. Fear tightened her chest—the pool’s surface was nowhere in sight.
From the depths, a deep voice whispered, “This one has fire in her veins.”
She kicked her legs, moving away from the sound. Who the fuck is that?
“The shadow god’s enemy,” murmured a second voice—a gravelly tone.
The water grew colder, freezing her skin, and shivers wracked her body. Her lungs ached for a breath.
“But there is darkness in her, too,” said the first voice.
“And pain. She did a terrible thing,” hissed the gravelly one.
“What should we do with her?”
She needed to get away, to get to air and out of the water. She kicked her legs frantically, her fingers clawing for a surface that no longer seemed to exist.
I need to breathe.
“She wants to visit the Shadow Realm.”
“But her fire is forbidden.”
“Then we take it from her.”
“Yessss,” said another voice. “Her flames will warm us. It is so very cold here.”
Her body shook in the frigid water.
Something cold and slimy brushed her cheek, and the words deadman’s fingers rang in her mind. She thrashed in the darkness as an ice-cold hand grabbed her foot. What the fuck is happening?
More hands grasped her limbs, pulling her deeper. Agony inflamed her lungs, as water began to trickle down her throat. She jerked and twitched in the grasp of the fingers. The hands were all over her, clammy fingers pulling her mouth open.
Cold water rushed in, and her lungs spasmed. I’m dying. With each spasm, more water filled her lungs, dousing the flames of her magic.
“Remember the darkness. Only the darkness will save you.” the voices whispered. The hands released her, and a light appeared above her.
Am I dying? No, she couldn’t accept it. She’d hardly begun to live, and she still had no idea who she really was.
The voices were lying—where there was light, there was air. Life.
Fighting her body’s desire to convulse, she stretched out her arms, kicking her legs to swim upward. The circle of light grew larger. Her lungs burned.
She kicked her legs, reaching for the light. If she weren’t drowning, she would have sighed with relief as one of her hands brushed something solid. A final kick and her fingers broke the surface. Pain ripped her mind apart, and it took every last bit of strength to control her body. She clawed, grasping at an edge. With the last of her strength, she heaved herself up.
And then she was gasping. Coughing. Cold water pouring from her mouth, hot tears streaming from her eyes.
Chapter 4
Ursula lay on a marble floor in the fetal position, as she coughed up another lungful of water.
Cera wiped the wet hair from Ursula’s face. “Earthly gods below, what took you so long?”
Ursula sucked in a deep breath, trying to find her voice again. “There were dead things in there, dragging me down.”
“Oh, dear. The Forgotten Ones found you?”
Ursula rolled onto her back, staring up at a ceiling painted with constellations. Her teeth chattered, and she hugged her naked body. “The Forgotten Ones? Is that what they are? They took my fire.”
Cera sighed. She’d already dressed in a cozy-looking black robe. “There wasn’t time to warn you, but at least we’ve escaped the dragon.”
Ursula forced herself up on her elbows, surveying her surroundings. She lay in the center of a round room, her feet dangling in a clear, circular pool no more than six inches deep. Was it really possible that she’d been drowning in this shallow water just moments ago? She’d nearly died.
Around the room, thin columns flanked windows that reached from the floor to ceiling. Through the
glass, a gray landscape stretched out under a canopy of gleaming stars. Only a few rocks interrupted the flat horizon—no buildings, nor trees or any sign of life. Where the hell are we? Her teeth chattered.
Before she could form one of the million questions on the tip of her tongue, the little demon came up behind her and handed her a velvet robe. “Perhaps you should put this on.”
Ursula took it gladly, wrapping it around her freezing shoulders. Instantly, her muscles began to relax.
Enveloped by the robe, she glanced out the window again.
Ursula drew in a slow breath, her gaze drifting upward. Above the stark landscape, the pale wash of the Milky Way splashed across the night sky, more vivid than she’d ever seen. Too vivid. This is not Earth.
Her breath caught in her throat. “I guess we’re not in Brooklyn.”
Cera snorted. “No, we’re not in Brooklyn. The Shadow Realm is on the moon.”
“The moon,” she repeated, turning to gape at Cera.
“Of course. Nyxobas’s water carried you here,” said Cera, crossing the room to a black door. She cast a critical eye over Ursula’s bedraggled hair. “Shall I show you to your quarters? You look half-dead.”
“Okay,” said Ursula absently. Barefoot, she padded over cold marble as she followed Cera, still trying to process the fact that she’d left the earth. She didn’t feel any lighter. Shouldn’t she be floating around the room?
Cera pushed open the door. “This way.”
Ursula followed Cera into the cold air, her heart skipping a beat as she realized they were outside.
Outside. On the moon. Without a spacesuit or helmet. They stood on a milky, marble bridge, a thousand feet above a deep, cratered valley. The bridge spanned the space between two round towers.
Ursula paused as a bitterly cold wind ruffled her hair, gripping the marble ledge to peer into the crater. Her pulse raced. In the center of the caldera, a towering spire of purple glass loomed above them. Unlike the sleek lines of New York’s skyscrapers, this tower was all jagged edges and sharp angles.
All around them, stark palaces of shining, silver towers jutted from the crater’s walls. If she strained her eyes, she could see a faint horizon on the far side of the spire, the gleam of distant buildings.
She gazed down at the vast valley spread out below, filled with stone dwellings. She drew in a slow breath. The human race had managed to send twelve people to the moon, and yet here was a vast kingdom no one had ever noticed.
She searched the skies for the Earth—home, something familiar—but only stars twinkled in the black sky. Out here, the air smelled faintly of creosote, and dizziness overwhelmed her. She glanced at Cera, who moved at a fast clip across the bridge, her silver hair trailing behind her.
“Wait!” Ursula called out. “I don’t understand. There’s a whole colony on the moon? Why doesn’t NASA have pictures? And how can I breathe if there’s no atmosphere? And why doesn’t the gravity feel any different?” Those were just the first four questions that entered her mind, but she could keep going.
Cera paused near the other end of the bridge before a gray door. She pointed at the sky. “Can you see that glimmer there?”
As Ursula walked, she looked up at the dome of stars. At first she couldn’t see what Cera meant, but then she noticed a faint shimmer along the horizon. Like the sheen of gasoline on a puddle.
“A glamour of magic surrounds us,” said Cera. “It both hides us from satellites and gives us air to breathe. And it takes care of the gravity problem.”
“How?”
“Magic.”
“Oh,” said Ursula, searching again for signs of the earth. “Are we on the dark side of the moon?”
“Yes. The far side, some call it.”
A dry wind toyed with Ursula’s hair. Shivering, she pulled the robe tighter around her. When she’d left for the Shadow Realm, she hadn’t realized it would be quite so far from home.
Cera pulled open the black door. “It’s freezing out here. Are you quite finished gaping?”
Not yet. She pointed at the spire. “What is that?”
“It’s called Asta. Where the god of night dwells.”
Ursula looked back at the building, trying to imagine what the home of a god might look like inside.
“Are you quite ready?” said Cera impatiently. “I prefer to walk around clothed and wearing shoes.”
Ursula hurried toward the door, her eyes focused straight ahead. As soon as she glanced at the bridge’s ledge, she knew dizziness would overwhelm her.
Through the door, Cera led her into an octagonal hall—half of it black marble. The other half lay completely destroyed, as if a giant fist had smashed through the wall, opening it to the night air. What happened here? Hugging herself, she surveyed the space.
The hair rose on the back of Ursula’s neck. On the mangled side of the hall, sheared steel beams twisted into the air like gnarled fingers. Wind rushed between them, chilling her skin. Shards of glass glinted in the starlight from the remains of old window frames. On the floor, a tile mosaic of a lion’s head lay half smashed. Part of the lion’s mane had been scorched and half its face smashed to dust. Opposite where she stood, steps climbed to a small platform with a circular black door. Some sort of crystalline stone—obsidian maybe.
“Okay. What happened here?” she asked aloud this time.
“A battle.” Cera’s eyes shone in the darkness like starlight. “Our lord is very strong. He protected us.” She turned, crossing to a door in one of the remaining marble walls. “We must cross another bridge to get to your quarters.” She yanked open the door.
Carefully, Ursula tiptoed over the shards of smashed glass and tile, following Cera onto another towering bridge. She kept her eyes on the demon, refusing to look over the vertigo-inducing railings as she crossed.
At the far end, Cera pushed open a door into a pitch-black room. As Ursula stepped over the threshold, candles in silver sconces flickered to life, casting warm light over a dark hall.
“I will be back in the morning,” said Cera, stepping back to the door. “You’ll have everything you need here.” She pulled open the door, then stepped out and slammed it shut with a click.
Ursula crossed to the door, tugging on the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Locked in.
Chapter 5
Ursula surveyed the wide hall. On one side, a spiral stairwell curved upward. The opposite wall abutted a delicate wooden table, adorned with a display of faintly glowing mushrooms.
Beautiful, but slightly unsettling.
Pulling her robe tighter, she followed the hall into a dimly lit, semicircular room.
A great panel of windows curved in the shape of the tower. Through the glass, she had a perfect view of Nyxobas’s gleaming spire, jutting from the crater like a jeweled spear. Guess I won’t be walking around here naked.
A set of marble statues flanked the windows, each at least eight feet tall—nude, athletic men with curly hair and vacant eyes. Ancient Greek, by the look of them.
Arranged about the room, glass cabinets held clay urns and vases, painted with symbols from dead languages and geometric designs. Apparently, moon demons had major hard-ons for the Classical era.
Possibly the hots for human men too, given the choice of statues.
She scanned the walls, eyeing the fine glassware. She tried not to stare at the black velvet couches that were nestled into the corner of the room, or she’d give in to temptation and sleep in one for days.
Water portal travel did a number on a person’s body.
Her eyes lingered on a silver clock on the wall that looked like an antique ship’s clock. It featured a complicated lunar cycle of waxing and waning moons that she couldn’t quite figure out.
Before she could move on to another room, her gaze landed on a portrait, framed in silver. The subject—a woman—had gorgeous dark eyes, and long brown hair that curled over a delicate white dress. She wore a solemn, regal expression. Olive skin, sharp cheekbones,
full lips. Beautiful as hell. Something about the vulnerability in her eyes seemed remarkably human.
She wasn’t exactly an art history expert, but it looked like something from the Renaissance. From one of those painters who depicted gorgeous women—Botticelli, maybe.
So maybe Classical Art Demon was into women, too.
Her rumbling stomach turned her attention away from the beauty. I’m starving.
She spotted a small bar tucked in another corner of the room. On it was a platter of cheese, grapes, and a carafe of wine.
Cera might have locked her in here, but at least she’d left something to eat.
As Ursula drew closer to the food, she noticed a beige envelope resting against the carafe. Someone had scrawled her name in deep red ink. She popped a grape in her mouth, then snatched the envelope, tearing it open. She scanned the letter.
I have asked Cera to look after you during your stay. She will be able to provide anything you need. This apartment is yours, and you are free to move about as you wish. For your own safety, I cannot give you free rein of the entire manor at this time. We will speak in the morning.
She crushed another grape between her teeth, letting the sweet juice run down her throat.
Had Nyxobas written this letter? She’d been expecting to meet him here upon her arrival, but now the idea that a god would greet her personally seemed completely stupid.
Then again, she hadn’t quite understood Nyxobas’s power until she’d come here. Now she could see it, visually represented. Total domination over an entire planetary body, not to mention the demons he controlled on the earth.
Grabbing a chunk of bread, she walked over to the window. Nyxobas’s spire glinted in the starlight. She’d been expecting to stay with him, that he had some sort of purpose in mind for her. But clearly, she hadn’t been brought to his palace. So what the hell was she doing here?
A hollow opened in the pit of her stomach. She was in some sort of manor, and she had no clue who owned it. And the first name that came to her mind was Abrax. The incubus had tried to murder her more than once, and she was pretty sure he was a rapist. He’d pulled some kind of mind-control seduction trick on her. At least, until he’d become disgusted by her and moved on to the attempted murder. Clearly, the guy had issues with women.
Nocturnal Magic (Demons of Fire and Night Book 2) Page 2
