“I might be able to break through it, but it will take me some time.”
“Then I guess I go alone.”
He jerked his head to look at her. “This will kill you. It’s an extremely powerful shield, designed to hold back far more powerful creatures than yourself. You’ll never survive.”
“You might be surprised, Goldilocks,” she said.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said.
The barrier reminded Max of the one separating Horngate from Scooter’s den. Lair. Whatever it was. All it was was a door on steroids, and doors couldn’t hold her.
“Wait here for me. I’ll be back.”
She started down. Magic swallowed her step by step, creeping up her legs, over her hips and chest, and then over her head. Her armor squirmed, and she could feel it straining against the bite of the magic. But for Max, it was no worse than walking through a pool of bleach. It stung enough to clear the sinuses but was easily bearable. The wards on the two outer doors had been worse.
When she got to the other side, it was like stepping into a genie’s house. There wasn’t a single surface that wasn’t covered with a pillow in some shade of pink. It was revolting. Maybe the genie lived in a Pepto-Bismol bottle.
She looked around for something to key off the barrier and nearly tripped over the Calopus. She frowned. “How did you do that?” The beast just stared back with milky eyes. Not a wag, not a blink. Max shook her head. She’d worry about it later.
She circled the room, searching for the barrier switch, finding nothing but pink froth. She returned to the foot of the stairs, and there it was. A small pink spray of gemstone flowers inlaid in the riser of the bottom step. She bent and brushed her fingers over the surface. A jolt ran through her hand, and the barrier fell like a rain of rose petals. A moment later, Ilanion joined her.
“Neat trick,” he said. “I’m beginning to understand what Nayan sees in you.”
“Gee, thanks,” Max said. “I’m so flattered.”
“We should hurry. Shutting down the ward barrier might have sent a warning to Asherah, if her servants haven’t sent for her already. You don’t want to meet her in her stronghold.”
Max couldn’t have agreed more. They ran down the steps, passing through several levels. They were mostly living quarters. But both she and Ilanion were in agreement that they needed Asherah’s magical workroom.
It was on the bottom level, thirteen floors down from where they’d started. A nice magical number, Max thought. The floor space of each level had been steadily increasing as they descended, and this was the largest by far. Max stopped on the bottom step to survey the room.
On the left was an open space that was clearly used for working spells. To the right were long rows of work tables littered with plants, rocks, wood, cages, herbs, bones, feathers, jars, boxes, and many things Max couldn’t identify. Lining the walls all the way around the chamber were shelves full of more supplies and thousands of books and scrolls.
It was clearly the place where Asherah practiced her magic, but nothing jumped out as belonging to Scooter.
“What now?” Max asked. Her Prime was beginning to feel itchy, like trouble was about to come crashing down on their heads. “We don’t have much time.”
Ilanion strode toward the tables on the right. “Look for something strongly warded. She might have a vault here.”
Max looked down at the Calopus. “I don’t suppose you can sniff it out, can you?” Again, that completely unreadable look.
She started on the left. The open floor wasn’t all that likely a place to keep valuables, but she might as well rule it out and meet Ilanion on the other side.
Magic filled the room with such intensity that it was impossible to sort out stronger spells from the minor ones. But—
She was looking for something that belonged to Scooter, and she knew his smell almost as well as she knew her own. Nothing could hide it from her. She stood still, closing her eyes and pushing her predatory senses outward. Now that she was looking for it, she couldn’t believe she’d missed it. It was just a thread of scent, but it was strong as steel.
It led her back to the open floor space. She’d walked right past it and never saw it. Why should she? It was small—only about eight inches wide. But size wasn’t what disguised it. It sat on a shelf in the back on the end in the shadows and was warded to be invisible. If Max hadn’t had Scooter’s scent, she’d never have found it.
She lifted it down. The moment she touched it, the invisibility spell evaporated. It was a box made of ebony wood wrapped in layer upon layer of silver, gold, and copper wires woven in spell patterns. It was closed with a simple hook catch.
“I found it,” Max called to Ilanion. He joined her.
“It’s in your hands?” he asked, following her gaze.
“Can’t you see it?”
He shook his head. Max described it. He chewed his lower lip. “It’s possible that opening it without the proper incantation will destroy whatever’s inside. Even your ability to pass through locking spells might not be enough.”
She rubbed a hand over her mouth. Should she risk it? It meant Scooter’s life. But getting Asherah to open the box wasn’t going to happen. “Can you figure it out?” she asked Ilanion.
“Given time. But Nayan doesn’t have it.”
“I know.”
“You could wait.”
“For what? We have to know what we have and what we’re still looking for.” Holding her breath, Max flipped open the catch and slowly lifted the lid. Magic jolted through her like a lightning strike. Her hair crackled and stood on end, and she smelled it burning. Even her armor couldn’t absorb the entire blast.
Inside, a massive diamond filled the confines of the box. It was roughly shaped and unfaceted. Max lifted it out and hissed. “Shit.” Within the diamond was Scooter’s heart. A crystal straw had been thrust through the top of the stone to disappear into the slowly clutching pink muscle. A thin line of crimson filled the tiny straw.
“Good,” Ilanion said. “Blood was drawn off, but Ash hasn’t had time to use it yet. She’s probably hoping to get her hands on Nayan first. Even that small amount will help strengthen him when we return his heart to him.”
“I’m going to kill that bitch,” Max said through clenched teeth, carefully settling the diamond back into the box.
“Not today. We need to get out of here before she comes back.”
They dashed up the stairs, taking four at a time. The sense of danger was growing stronger. Asherah was on her way. Max knew it without a doubt. She also knew that Ilanion was right—today wasn’t the day to face her. Not without first getting Scooter’s horn and silk back.
When they reached the gray room where they’d entered, Max thrust open the outer door, wincing as the wards lashed at her. The paranoid bitch had locked the door from the inside and out.
“Can you fly out of here?” she asked Ilanion over the roar of the wind.
He nodded. “Of course.”
Max snorted but didn’t challenge him. “Get back to Scooter. I’ll meet you there.”
“How—” He broke off. How she was traveling was obvious. “You’re going to hide his heart?”
She nodded. “Somewhere the Korvad will never find it.”
He gripped her shoulder. “Stay safe.” With that, he launched himself out into the wind. It grabbed him, and in an instant, he was gone.
Max shut the door and looked at the Calopus. “This is where we part ways,” she said. But she made no move to leap into the abyss. Not yet. Instead, she waited.
The minutes ticked past. At last, the air thickened, and Max felt Asherah approaching. The smell was familiar. It saturated every corner of the tower and the outer palace. Sensual, sweet, and nauseating.
Pink light filtered in from the shadows above. It twisted and slithered, gathering together into a woman. Of sorts. She had long black hair that shone like the back of a beetle. Her face was oval, with black eyes, greenish-white skin, and pink lips
. Her body was curved and luscious. She had four arms, each delicate and graceful. Her fingernails were curving talons painted pink. She was clearly as deadly as she was beautiful.
Instantly, Asherah fixed her gaze on Max, her expression frigid with fury. Her mouth was full of sharp white teeth. She pointed with one of her left hands. “Who are you?” Her words were oddly slurred and breathy.
“I’m the one who’s going to kill you,” Max said. “Don’t forget it.”
With that, she dove down into her fortress and escaped into the abyss.
THIS TIME, GOING INTO THE ABYSS SEEMED ALMOST easy. Maybe practice made perfect, Max thought. She hung in the blackness for a long moment, gathering herself for what had to come next. Finally, she dove back through her fortress, all the while picturing Scooter’s lair.
She dropped onto the sand beside the stump. It was cold. The sand looked dull. It was the safest place she could think of. No one but she and Scooter even knew how to get here. She set the box on the stump and opened it again. Her stomach turned, and she closed the lid.
For a moment, she pressed her forehead against her knees. Her stomach ached from hunger, and the rest of her felt like a wrung-out rag. She needed rest. Not that there was any time for it. She needed food, too. There was some of that in her apartment. It would be nothing just to step through the abyss and be there.
She looked at herself and wrinkled her nose. She stank of blood and sweat, and her clothes were shredded. What she wouldn’t do for a shower! And her guns. She could bring her guns through to Chadaré. Her mouth curved. Yes.
Slowly, she stood, not letting herself think of the real reason she wanted to go home.
Alexander.
She wanted him to know that she was still alive. She wanted all of them to know. But there wasn’t going to be time for any of that. She would eat, clean up, get her guns, and leave. That’s all.
Having left the box on the stump, Max returned to the abyss. Her heart pounded, and her stomach fluttered nervously. Stupid. She wasn’t going to see him.
She pictured her quarters, imagining her bed. A soft landing. But when she dove into her fortress, the image in her mind shifted to somewhere else.
Max bounced down in Alexander’s quarters, sprawling across his bed. He wasn’t in it. He should have been. It was daytime. Disappointment jerked sharply inside her.
She couldn’t wait for him. Her stomach clenched, and her eyes burned. She didn’t let the tears escape. Instead, she searched his room for a pen and paper. She’d let him know she was alive, at least, if her scent didn’t tell him that already. She held her Prime tamped down. She didn’t want any of her Blades sensing her presence. They’d come running, and she didn’t have time for that.
The point of the pen hovered over the paper. What should she say? Dear Alexander, she wrote. She clenched her fingers on the pen and forced herself to loosen her grip before it snapped. Dear Alexander? It sounded so cold and formal. She was anything but. She felt wild and explosive. But she couldn’t think of anything else, so she left it.
She tapped her fingers on the table top. What else could she say? I was here. You weren’t. See you next time. Brilliant. She had to do better than that.
She was concentrating so hard that she neither heard nor smelled him coming.
The door thrust open. It slammed against the wall and bounced shut with a bang. Alexander charged through like a hunting lion, his body taut with emotion.
He said nothing. He grabbed her, crushing her against him. She held on just as tightly. His mouth came down on hers with the violence of desperate need. His tongue thrust inside her lips—devouring, demanding, owning. She clutched him, her kiss equally hard. Everything she felt poured out of her into that scorching caress.
He made a sound deep inside, raw and urgent. His hands slid over her as if trying to make sure she was really there. He picked her up, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, grinding herself against him.
Cloth ripped as he tore away her shirt and flung it to the floor.
She was barely coherent enough to tell her armor to get lost before grabbing the back of Alexander’s shirt and shredding it. The armor slid away, leaving her fevered skin feeling cool. Alexander hooked his hands into her waistband and encountered the sword belts. That caught him up.
He set her on her feet and stood back, his hands tight on her hips, his eyes so hot that Max thought she might burn up. She made a noise and pressed against him. He was too far away. She wanted to feel his skin on hers; she wanted his tongue in her mouth and his body hard against her. She wanted to be so close to him that she couldn’t tell where she left off and he began.
“I thought you were dead,” he said, his voice rumbling through his chest. “I thought you were not coming back.”
“I know. I came back to let you know. But it’s not over. Scooter still needs me.”
He snarled, jerking her against him. “Needs you? What for? You belong here. With me. You are mine.”
“Yes,” she agreed simply. That much she’d figured out. “But I made him a promise. He’s dying. They’re torturing him.”
That caught him. “Who? What is going on?”
There was so much to tell and no time. No time at all. “I want to tell you,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter. Not now. Just—”
She unbuckled the sword belts. They fell to the floor with a thud. Before she could unbutton her pants, he was there, pulling them open and shoving them down. His own swiftly followed. He didn’t wait. Couldn’t, no more than she could. The need between them exploded.
He lifted her again, turning her to brace her against the wall. His cock pressed against her, and she wriggled, hissing with pleasure as she sought to impale herself on him. He groaned and clutched her tighter, stopping her movement. Max kissed his shoulders and neck, touching him frantically. His skin was satin and tasted purely of him. It was enough to send her reeling, her mind lost in a haze of want. Her body throbbed. She couldn’t contain her moans as he licked and caressed her throat and shoulders, all the while teasing her, keeping her from driving herself down onto him.
He bent and sucked her nipple into his mouth. She went rigid, throwing her head back with a mewling sound of pure delight. He growled satisfaction, and drew harder. The feeling pulled tight down to her crotch and sent whorls of exquisite pleasure dancing through her body. If she’d been standing, she probably would have melted to the floor. He bit gently and then switched to the other breast. Max could hardly contain herself. She wanted to return the caresses, but her mind had spun out of control, and all she could do was feel. Her hips ground against him.
“Please, Alexander,” she whispered.
Her world exploded. He slid inside her with one thrust. Her body pulsed around him. She clutched his shoulders as her body spasmed. He groaned and bucked against her helplessly, driving hard. Now it was her turn to laugh with the power that came with knowing his need. She rocked herself against him, and he clenched his hands on her ass.
His mouth closed on hers again. Their tongues thrust together, sweeping, devouring, adoring. Another spasm shook Max, and her mind broke apart. She cried out, not knowing what she said. He whispered against her ear, but she couldn’t hear it. She couldn’t hear anything. All she could do was feel, and it was nothing like she’d ever felt before. As if she was full of fireworks and a delight so intense there were no words for it.
He thrust harder and then stiffened, his head buried against her shoulder as he came. His raw, rasping moan brought her to the edge of bliss one more time, and she tightened her legs as her body quaked with his.
They stood panting for a long minute before Alexander lifted his head, brushing the damp hair from her forehead. His eyes were molten, his expression faintly awestruck. Max knew how he felt. It was like the universe had cracked open and they’d swum in a primordial ocean of light and fire.
“That was—” Alexander shuddered and then kissed her long and slow. He made love to her mouth, teasing and
licking, delving with deft sureness. He slid his hands around her neck and around the back of her head, deepening the kiss until Max felt as if she were drowning in desire.
But there wasn’t time. She gently pushed against his chest and reluctantly let her feet slide to the floor. He groaned protest and kissed her harder, but she twisted away. “I can’t stay.”
He went utterly still, his face turning savage, his hands tightening on her. “No. Do not leave.”
“Scooter’s waiting for me,” she said. “I’ll come back.” But she couldn’t promise, and he knew it. “I need some food, weapons, and clothes. Then I have to go.”
His face contorted, and he shoved himself away. He pulled on a pair of pants and took out a shirt. He pulled it over his head. His hands linked behind his head, and he folded his elbows forward, staring sightlessly at the wall. “This is impossible,” he muttered, so low Max wasn’t sure she was supposed to hear.
The words kicked her in the stomach. “What is?”
He turned slowly, as if he’d forgotten she was there. His expression had smoothed and was now austerely chiseled, like the sharp peak of a wind-scoured mountain.
“What’s impossible?” she asked again, her stomach crawling up into her throat. She already knew the answer. She’d expected—no, demanded—so much from him and given little back. She was still making demands. Who could blame him for throwing in the towel? He wasn’t bound to Horngate. He could walk away and never look back. At the thought, Max felt herself drawing up inside, curling up around a hurt that was too raw, too deep to bear. She could lose him.
“Nothing,” he said in a clipped voice that did nothing to assuage the pain.
She couldn’t leave it at that. “C’mon, Slick. Spit it out. What crawled up your ass and died?”
His body jerked forward, and he caught himself. The power of his Prime filled the room like a thunderstorm as his emotions rose. It was dense and turbulent. Her own rose eagerly to meet it. She tamped it back. If the others realized she was there, they’d come running. As it was, she wasn’t sure how Alexander had figured it out. But that wasn’t the important question now.
Shadow City Page 19
