by Boone Brux
Luc glared at Jade. “I wasn’t shackled.”
She covered her mouth with her hand in mock innocence. “Oops.”
Luc’s mumbles faded as he disappeared belowdecks to retrieve the keys. Within minutes he’d set the crew free from the manacles but not from the effects of the sirens’ song. Or Jade’s shovel.
Rhys clenched his jaw as Ravyn retold the events of the evening as best she could. The crew cursed and gasped at all the appropriate moments. With each detail, the weight of his failure pressed around him. What if he’d lost Ravyn? He stepped away from the crowd and moved to examine the smoldering hole in the deck.
As he reached for a blackened plank of wood, his hand quivered. He curled his fingers into a fist in an effort to stop the shaking, and squeezed until his nails dug deep into the palms of his hands. Loss. Grief. Failure. All the pain he’d shut away centuries ago boiled to the surface. A lump formed in his throat as the crushing weight of responsibility pressed down on him again. He could not run away from his duty, no matter how hard he tried. He was too close to Ravyn. She disarmed him and made him careless. He’d grown soft. And though he didn’t want to admit it, he cared too much for her to be a worthy protector.
The barriers around his heart galvanized as he wrapped himself in the duty and honor of being a Shield. Yes, he had been happy since he’d found her, more content than he could remember. But at what cost? He’d dropped his guard and become complacent. What right did he have to put others in peril just so he could be happy? None. He hadn’t earned the right. What’s more, he didn’t have anybody to share the burden of duty with. He was a full-blooded Bringer, a Shield, the protector of mankind…and nothing more.
He walked back to the circle of crew members. Ravyn leaned against a pole and yawned. Tomorrow would be soon enough to explain that he needed to distance himself. His chest tightened when she smiled at him, and try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to smile back. How could he? There was nothing to be happy about. He’d have to harden his heart against his feelings for Ravyn and once again embrace his coldhearted mistress, responsibility. His gaze slid from Ravyn and focused on Luc.
“Why are you on the ship?” Luc said to Jade.
She smiled sweetly. “To kill you.”
The crew snickered.
Luc’s gaze narrowed. “Where’s your family?”
Jade glared at him. “Dead.”
He opened his mouth but Rhys cut him off. “Enough. She saved our lives. We owe her our gratitude, not our suspicions.” He cocked an eyebrow at his friend. “Find her new quarters.”
Luc and Jade glared at each other.
“She can have my cabin,” Luc said.
“I don’t want your cabin. I can sleep on deck.”
“It’s not proper for you to sleep on deck with the men.” Luc crossed his arms as if setting up for battle. “You’ll take my cabin.”
“No. I. Won’t.”
“Yes. You. Will.”
“Noooo IIIIII woooon’t!” The menace in Jade’s tone increased with every syllable.
Not to be outdone, Luc scooped her up and hoisted her over his shoulder. Her high-pitched shriek filled the silent night.
“Hush up, you crazy wench,” Luc shouted.
Jade pummeled his back, her fists tangling in his unbound hair. “Put me down, you stupid ape.”
With a loud whack, he smacked her on the butt and marched across the deck. The entire crew gawked as he manhandled Jade down the ladder and out of sight.
“Cute couple,” Ravyn said.
Rhys stared at the hatch, not trusting himself to look at her. “I think he likes her.”
She leaned into him. “I’m tired. Can we go to bed?”
One last time. Would he allow himself this last indulgence? No. He couldn’t put his resolve to the test, not when the wound of letting her go was so raw. He wrapped his arm around her waist but didn’t pull her close. The comfort of her touch held too high a price.
He looked at the milling crew. “Weigh anchor and throw some water on that hole.”
A unanimous roar erupted from the crew members as they stumbled to their posts.
Rhys guided Ravyn to the hatch. “Go to bed and get some sleep. By this time tomorrow, we should be safely on dry land.”
She yawned and covered her mouth with her hand. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Later.” He rubbed the back of his head again. “Besides, I just had a pretty good nap.”
Ravyn hugged him. Just one more touch. He enfolded her in his embrace and pressed his mouth to her curls. His lips lingered longer than he’d intended as he drank in the scent. How could he let her go? Closing his eyes, he burned the feel of her body against his into his memory and reminded himself whom he sacrificed for—Ravyn.
When the sun broke the horizon, he’d be alone. Again.
Chapter Twenty
“How is it that one itty-bitty girl has managed to elude my fiercest soldiers?” Vile drew out his question. He draped his body across his throne and casually flicked a bug crawling on the arm of the chair. “My son couldn’t bring me the woman.”
Icarus stood stiffly at the left of the throne. Settled with legs slightly parted and hands clasped behind his back, he ignored his father’s jab. Last night he’d been so close to finally getting the Bringer. His plan had been almost flawless. Sha-hera had failed and he had meant to snatch Ravyn Mayfield and hide her away until he could perform the Ritual of Taking. But then she’d grabbed him. He shifted slightly at the uncomfortable memory of her touch. Like fiery webs spinning through his veins, she had invaded him. How, he didn’t know. Then she’d attacked and he’d barely escaped Sha-hera’s fate.
He stared out over the silent crowd, smelling the fear emanating from the mutts. The king’s penchant for ripping off heads or blasting the nearest Bane was well-known amongst the demons.
Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. Nobody laughed now.
For once, the sting of Vile’s biting taunts would not be directed at him. Sha-hera held that distinction, and he planned to enjoy every second of her humiliation.
His gaze wandered to the center of the chamber where Sha-hera knelt. Her spiny wings lay limp behind her back, still not fully formed after last night’s attack. Her twisted horns pointed toward the ground as she bowed her head, playing submissive. To Icarus, she missed the mark by an almost-imperceptible degree. Vile wouldn’t notice. He loved dominance in any form, but Icarus recognized the trace of defiance in her clenched jaw and fisted hands.
“I dispatched my impressive female army and the girl crushed you. Please tell me I’m wrong. Please tell me my commanders aren’t a bunch of idiots who can’t find their asses with both hands.”
Vile’s tone was deceptively mild but Icarus knew his father too well. The king’s deadly calm usually led to bloodthirsty punishment. Icarus curled his lip in a triumphant smile, the only movement he dared to make.
The she-bitch actually looked scared. Sha-hera prostrated herself on the ground before the throne. “You were not wrong to entrust the mission to me, my king.”
Her false assurance set Icarus’s fangs on edge. Sha-hera feigned humility like a master actress. She groveled and yet never once admitted her failure.
“Yes?” Vile sat up and held his hands out in confusion. “And yet, where is my Bringer?”
Sha-hera pushed upright but folded her hands meekly in her lap. A hint of panic crossed her face as she scrambled for a plausible explanation. Her eyes cut briefly to Icarus and he smiled, openly baring his fangs in genuine pleasure. Sha-hera cleared her throat. “There were complications, my king.”
Vile’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“There was another female on board. She helped the Bringer during the fight.”
Vile sat forward and rested his elbows on his muscular thighs. “Another female?” His eyes narrowed. “Was she a Bringer?”
Sha-hera glanced to Icarus. He raised his eyebrows in question. How would she explain this away? He loved watching her s
quirm.
She looked back at the king. “No.”
“Did she use fierce weapons against your highly trained army of succubi?”
A titter of laughter rippled through the chamber.
Sha-hera’s spine stiffened. “She dispatched several of us with a crossbow.”
“I heard it was the Bringer who wielded the crossbow while this mystery woman ran around the ship hitting the men over the head with a…” He paused. “Shovel.” He threw back his head and laughed. Icarus suppressed the urge to laugh as well. Vile’s amusement faded, the humor in his voice dying. “And still you couldn’t capture the Bringer?”
Sha-hera bowed her head. “No, my king.”
She made no further comment about the unknown woman on the ship. Why? She’d certainly known the human girl, so why hide their acquaintance? Icarus tucked this bit of information away for later scrutiny.
Vile leaned back and folded his hands over his rippled stomach. “Pathetic.”
Not a single demon stirred within the throne room. Icarus remained silent, letting Sha-hera’s disgrace hang in the air. She had no idea who she was dealing with if she thought to best him at the game of intrigue.
“Icarus,” Vile said over his shoulder.
He stepped forward. “Yes, Father.”
“I’m giving you one last chance to bring the girl to me.” He tapped one long talon on the arm of the throne. “If you fail me again, I will not be as happy as I am now. Do you understand?”
Icarus’s stare bore into Sha-hera, silently warning her to stay out of his way. “I understand.”
Vile stood and flared his wings. “I grow weary of fools.” He turned and stomped from the hall.
Icarus jumped down from the dais and marched toward the exit. Demons scattered from his path. As he passed Sha-hera, her hand shot out and grabbed him. He stopped but didn’t look at her.
“This is not over,” she hissed.
He turned his head in the slowest of motions. She blamed him for her humiliation. He liked that. Her fury would unbalance her judgment. “Get your hand off of me or I’ll break it off and feed it to you.”
She hesitated, but let her hand drop. “Where were you hiding? I know you were there watching. You couldn’t wait to run back to the king and tell him, could you?”
“Your failure reached the king long before I did,” he lied. He leaned toward her, his nose an inch from hers. “Your exploits circled the Shadow World before you stopped spinning from the Bringer’s blast. I told you not to fuck with me.”
Icarus marched from the chamber and down the corridor. His mind sifted through his options. Time was running out. Vile was growing impatient and suspicious and there would be no more chances to secure the girl after this. He slammed his fist into the rock wall. Chips flew in all directions, but he didn’t feel better. His father could not have Ravyn’s power. If he opened the Abyss of Souls there would be no hope of escaping Vile’s rule. There would be no throne. Cold settled over him and he shivered.
That couldn’t happen.
Icarus launched himself upward through the wide portal of the Shadow World. The orange sunrise kissed his face. He closed his eyes and spread his wings, basking in the dawning light. A new day. A new start. That’s what he wanted. Free from his father’s control. He opened his eyes and headed south. Hopefully, Brother Powell was in place.
Chapter Twenty-one
The ship landed on the shores of Faela in late afternoon. Ravyn leaned over the rail. As The Saints were her witnesses, she would never drink again.
She craned her neck and looked up at the huge passenger vessels on either side. Their ship maneuvered between the two behemoths, slicing the space with expert timing and skill. Crew members dashed around the deck, tying off ropes and battening down the hatches.
People swarmed the docks, their shouts and laughter rising above the constant drone of the lapping water and creaking ships. The harbor pulsed with life. Using the technique Rhys taught her, she blocked the mental din of the bustling mob. The noise in her mind quieted, but not the pounding in her head.
The smell of fish, wood, and oil permeated the air, and the light winds did nothing to dissipate the afternoon heat. Wedged between the larger ships, her hope for a breeze went unfulfilled. Thankfully, the tall, sloping sides of the neighboring vessels blocked most of the sun’s rays, giving her a measure of relief from what was sure to be a sweltering evening. Though she loved her wool pants, they were too much in this warmer climate.
Ravyn searched the ship for Rhys. He hadn’t come to bed last night, and she’d only seen him briefly at breakfast. He stood on the upper deck, arms crossed, legs spread in a wide stance, speaking with Luc. Tension radiated from him. Last night’s attack had put everybody on edge.
She stared at Rhys, willing him to look at her. Despite the compulsion she pushed at him, he continued to talk to Luc. She could’ve been wrong, but it seemed as if he was avoiding her. She struggled to squash the feeling that something had changed between them since last night.
A loud cackle drew Ravyn from her brooding and she turned back to the rail. She scanned the crowd below. A colorfully clad female threw her ample body into the arms of a disembarking sailor. The man caught her up and swung her around, planting a long, wet kiss on her mouth. Ravyn’s thoughts drifted back to Rhys. She touched her fingers to her lips as she remembered the feel of his kisses and his gentle caresses.
Already, she missed Alba Haven and the easy routine they’d fallen into. How long would it be before she could share his bed again? She liked sleeping tucked next to Rhys, his arm wrapped around her as if he were afraid she’d leave him while he slept. She scowled at the thought of having to sleep alone at Illuma Grand.
Their ship settled, and the crew moved around her as they secured the lines. Her throbbing head and roiling stomach prevented her from lending a hand. To let the men go about their tasks without her interference was more of a blessing than giving them her assistance. She continued to stare at the bevy of activity on the docks, riveted by so many sights and sounds.
Commands and greetings issued from all direction as the wharf’s habitants hastened about their business. Crates, sacks, and boxes were unloaded from every kind of ship by people of every color. Wagons parked along the road, awaiting their burdens. Young children flitted in and out of the crowd. Pickpockets. Ravyn remembered her outing with Nattie and the times she’d felt a gentle pressure at her hip, as if small hands searched her pockets. Vendors beckoned to newly arrived passengers and sailors in an attempt to part them from their money.
A man with large, gold hoops in his ears held his laden arms wide. Dozens of necklaces swung from his forearms in a sparkling display.
“A trinket for a loved one or a bauble for a special lady,” the merchant enticed.
Ravyn wondered how many of his jewels had been stolen.
Rhys moved behind her, his warmth mingling with the afternoon heat but his voice holding a note of stiffness. “What do you think?”
She turned and smiled. Her stomach fluttered as his energy caressed her. Since being together intimately, it was as if her soul was tuned to him. Her smile slipped. She couldn’t put her finger on the reason for his mood change, but prayed it was simply preoccupation with getting them safely to Illuma Grand.
Ravyn glanced back at the crowd and squared her shoulders. “It’s very loud.”
She broadened her smile, trying to act normal. After all, they’d only been together for two nights, and she’d practically thrown herself at him. It wasn’t as if he owed her anything, including his love.
“Very.” An awkward silence stretched between them as they stared at the activity below. “We’ll be disembarking soon.”
She turned away from the railing. “Wonderful.”
Last night she’d loved the ship and the freedom she’d experienced on the open sea, skimming across the water. Now the vessel seemed empty, somehow barren of the joy she’d shared with him and the crew. They’d lost thre
e crew members in the fight last night and she couldn’t help but wonder where they were now. Dead? Turned into Bane? Would these men be demons they would eventually have to vanquish?
Her limbs moved woodenly as she headed toward the gangway. Now, more than ever, she was happy she’d given herself to Rhys. Tomorrow was not guaranteed, especially now that they’d left the safety of Alba Haven.
He followed her to the exit, stopped beside her, and pointed toward two formal-looking men who stood at the end of the walkway. “It appears the Council sent us an escort.”
“How would they know we were here?” she asked.
The men waited on either side of the gangplank, positioned like two sentries. Were they here to invite, or insist she and Rhys join them?
“From me,” Luc said. He stopped beside Ravyn. “I sent a message ahead. You know how the Council is. They love to make us wait.”
Rhys arched an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”
Luc’s shoulders slumped. “All right. My father would have my head if we’d arrived unannounced.”
This caught her by surprise. Not only that his father would be part of something they fought against, but also imagining Luc having a father at all. Somehow, she’d pictured his birth as something more impressive, like rising from the sea or being born of the sun. Ordinary parentage seemed to dim his glorious nature a bit.
“Is your father part of the Council?” Ravyn asked.
“Yes,” Luc drawled. “For the most part, he believes as we do, but being immersed at Illuma Grand sometimes blurs the facts for him.”
“He’s a good man,” Rhys interjected.
“Yes, but he’ll have to pick a side. I’ve already chosen mine.”
Rhys held out his arm. “Shall we?”
The men sandwiched Ravyn between them in what she assumed was a defensive position. She mentally rolled her eyes. They were completely male. Even after last night, they didn’t believe she could protect herself. The thought grated on her. The men from Illuma Grand shifted as the three of them approached. She supposed they did make an impressive sight, especially with her dressed in her leathers.
