My gaze shifted to the wet blot on my couch. “You’re also wet.”
After another brief staring contest, she rose with a sigh and went to the bathroom. A moment later, she emerged with a large bath towel wrapped around her and her wet clothes in her arms.
“Dryer?”
I gestured to the stairs, then followed her up and opened the closet that hid the laundry machines.
“Marcia will not come after you for it,” I announced after she’d started the dryer. “Being a Moura will offer some protection, because you all are enigmas. We know there is a bond between you and the Aufero, but she doesn’t know how strong. You now possess the power to do what she has done to many other witches. She’ll stay away because she doesn’t want it done to her.”
“First I have to figure out how to use it,” she said, her confidence quickly deflating.
I volunteered, raising my hand. She agreed with a reluctant nod, her mind no doubt absorbed with the risks. She didn’t want to be responsible for causing me harm should the experiment go south, but the risks were mine. I was ready to accept any risk to be rid of my grandmother’s inheritance. We stood quietly next to the rumbling dryer while her doubts played out in her expression. I considered a pep talk, then decided better of it. She was willing, and that was enough.
After a few minutes, she checked her clothes and found them dry. Responding to an expectant look, I returned to the living room. She arrived a moment later, dressed. After acknowledging the wet stain on the couch with an impish smile, she sat on the other end of the couch and placed the orb in her lap.
“It shouldn’t be hard,” I explained. “The Aufero should do most of the work.”
When I reached for the orb to demonstrate, a shimmering protective field sparked to life around it, quickly expanding to engulf Sky. Orange-red light pulsed from the orb. I froze, suddenly aware that the Aufero had a mind of its own, and it saw me as a threat. Slowly, I withdrew my hand and took a cautious step back. After a moment, the pulsing faded and the field slowly dissolved.
I straightened, clearing my throat. “I guess I will walk you through it.”
Crossing to my desk, I unlocked the top side-drawer and retrieved a printout Josh had sent me, replacing it with the iridium band. Keeping a wary watch on the orb, I slowly extended the instructions to her.
She glanced at it and bit her lower lip. “Shouldn’t Josh be here?”
“You can do it,” I promised. “When you read, it must be continual; you can’t break the invocations. If you stop, then you must start over. Okay?”
She nodded, but her doubts remained.
I retrieved the candles required for the ritual. Preferring not to antagonize the orb again, I placed the candles on the ottoman, then pushed it toward her and took my seat in the black-and-white chair.
Following the directions on the paper, she went about placing the candles in the required pattern. To her chagrin, I made a few slight but necessary adjustments; precision was important. Once the candles were in place, I retrieved a knife from its hiding place beneath the ottoman and handed it to Sky.
She frowned at the blade. “Why is it always blood? Why not a strand of my hair, a tear, a flake of dandruff, or something?”
Withholding an amused smile, I leaned toward her and drew her gaze to mine. “You can do this.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her courage, then smoothed out the already flat paper. Skimming over the instructions, she placed the knife next to the candles, then quickly adjusted its position before I could do it for her. Her frustration grew as she adjusted the knife several more times, each slight, until she rose to retrieve her phone and placed it beside her on the couch. Her hand rested on the phone, pushing it against her leg as if she took comfort from its presence, like a security blanket.
“Whatever happens,” I cautioned, eyeing the phone, “you can’t involve Josh. Understand?”
She answered with a half-hearted nod.
“Promise me you will not involve him.”
Anxiety gave way to a flash of anger as she raised her eyes to glare at me. “Your constant protection will form the resentment that will eventually destroy your relationship with him.”
I bristled. “I didn’t ask for your advice, just your compliance.”
She shook her head in disgust.
When I reached out to touch her arm, she reacted reflexively, jumping back into the couch. She struck the frame, causing her to wince and clutch at her elbow. I straightened and pushed away from her, surprised and horrified that I could’ve frightened her into such an instinctive reaction, just by the mere act of touching her. Blood rushed to my cheeks, coloring my embarrassment.
“There are many things in my control,” I said in a restrained voice, “but far more that aren’t. I protect Josh because the things that I can’t control are the things that could hurt him the most. You may not see the point of what I do, but there is one. I ask that you respect that. Please,” I stressed, “don’t involve him.”
She offered a begrudging nod as she massaged her elbow, then slowly slid off the front edge of the couch and knelt next to the ottoman. Relieved, I took my place next to her.
With the Aufero in one hand, she stretched the other arm across the ottoman, leaving her palm up. My heart raced as I stared at her hand, afraid to touch it. I closed my eyes and took several slow, deep breaths to calm myself, then looked to Sky for approval. She scrutinized me for a moment, perhaps surprised at my deference, then nodded. Slowly, I laid my hand over hers. When she didn’t flinch, I weaved my fingers into hers and felt the slight squeeze of her acceptance.
“Please,” I whispered, “don’t get Josh involved.”
She nodded again, seemingly sincere, but I knew if something happened to me, if the ritual went truly wrong, she would call him to save me. If I pressed her, she would admit it, but no amount of arguing would change her mind. I gave her a warm, appreciative smile and she smiled back.
Concentrating, I allowed my own doubts to melt away and shared my strength and confidence with Sky the way only Alphas could.
Visibly bolstered, she began to recite the invocation from the paper. Following along from memory, I slipped back onto my heels, waiting for my part of the ritual. When the time came, I picked up the knife and gently cut a long shallow line across her palm, just enough to draw a faint trickle of blood. Ignoring the sting, she continued the invocation, passing the Aufero to her cut hand, where the orb came into contact with her blood.
At the required moment, I drew the knife across my palm, then placed it over top of the orb.
A hostile wind rushed into the room as if through an opened door, creating a wailing sound as it snuffed out the flames of the candles. The wind whipped about, gathering loose books and candles and other objects and flung them in an increasingly violent storm. Glass shattered. The Aufero expanded until I thought it might burst, casting a stifling magic that descended on us like a smothering shroud. Suddenly the orb collapsed to its original shape, then expanded again, this time releasing a force that sent us tumbling from the ottoman.
Sky crashed into the bookcase, toppling it. I barely managed to drape my body over hers, absorbing the weighty impact on my back with a grunt as books spilled over us. Resisting the wind, I threw off the bookcase, but continued to shield her body with mine, absorbing the impact of flying objects until the wind finally died. The magic retreated, and an eerie calm descended over the room.
Expecting the Aufero to react with a new, more powerful burst of magic, we remained entwined on the floor, gazing into each other’s eyes. For a moment, I was lost there, entranced by the warmth of her body against mine. Instinctively, I bent to her neck and lightly brushed my lips against her skin. Her head turned almost imperceptibly, inviting my touch, and I felt a rush of anticipation fill my body. She relaxed against me, her heart calming faster than mine as we listened to each other’s beats.
“Are you okay?” I finally whispered.
; Slowly, reluctantly, she nodded.
Swallowing my desire, I lifted from her, pushing aside the books and debris that spilled from my backside. Once standing, I helped her to her feet. The Aufero remained on the ottoman, its orange-red glow stifled now, replaced by a dark fog within the orb. It remained active, vibrating and throbbing until it expanded once more. Anticipating another burst of magic, I positioned myself protectively in front of Sky, but then the orb snapped back to its normal size. A battle seemed to continue inside of it as it alternated between bright and subdued colors, until it finally settled on a dull burnt orange and became suddenly still.
Had it worked?
I froze, tuning into my body. The disconcerting thrum of the dark elf magic was gone. For the first time since my grandmother had died, I felt like myself. Suddenly panicking, I reached for my mother’s magic and found it. Panic gave way to relief.
“How do you feel?” Sky asked, her gaze still fixed on the orb.
“Fine,” I said, surprised.
The orb, it seemed, had permanently changed, as if marred by the magic it had absorbed from me. Wary of it, I picked up the scattered candles and returned them to the kitchen cabinet. My movements were sluggish; I felt drained but relieved. We set about cleaning up the living room, avoiding each other’s gazes while silently acknowledging the tension between us. By the time she finally broke the silence, the tension had become unbearable.
“If your grandmother was able to hide,” she said, “I’m sure there are others. We can use the Aufero to convince the elves that they no longer need to ‘contain’ the dark elves, but instead remove their magic.”
I offered her a comforting smile. Dark elves possessed a dangerous, deadly power that none of the factions could tolerate. It would always be easier to kill power than to tame it.
“I’m serious,” she said.
“I know. You want to save the world, but realistically, you can’t,” I gently admonished her. At her core, she remained stubbornly altruistic, untainted by the moral flexibility that pervaded our world. Better to serve a cause than an ideal, I felt, but I admired her conviction. She was not easily swayed from her moral center.
“No, not the world,” she said defensively, “just people given a death sentence for being born into something they can’t help. Maybe we could work out something with Mason and save the lives of these people.”
She carried on her argument for some time before I interrupted. “Letting everyone know you have the Aufero and what you are capable of doing with it isn’t a good idea. You are part of this pack; just by association people will be reluctant to trust you because they will not believe your motives are altruistic. They will assume that you have ulterior motives.”
“Then you all need to do better about improving your public image. Doesn’t it bother you that people have so little trust in you all?” Her eyes widened, as if she’d only just realized she was one of us. “We need to do more about our image. I don’t like people fearing us.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” I said sardonically, my irritation rising. “We should work harder at making people see us as docile and ineffectual, deny what dwells in us, and work on people seeing us as soft and cuddly pushovers. Easily subjugated by anyone who would choose to dominate us. Sounds like a brilliant plan.”
Her hands went to her hips, complimenting her scowl. “I realize the importance of a strong pack; there isn’t a need for you to be such a jackass. But what’s wrong with helping others? I can assure you that possessing the ability to restrict those that have the ability to kill with just touch will work in our favor. I think Mason would appreciate that, and if he can’t, then whoever is chosen next might.”
“You mean Gideon.” I smirked. “Contrary to what you choose to believe, we are not monsters. Less than a century ago, others felt they needed to contain us, so we are more understanding of the situation. The three times that we abided by the agreement were unavoidable situations and we didn’t find any joy in doing so.” The memory of the last incident rose to sear my thoughts, reminding me that I’d nearly been a victim of the same cruelty, had it not been for Sky and the Aufero.
Perhaps I shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss her ideals.
As I took a seat next to her, she shifted a few inches from me. “Mason is unnecessarily difficult,” I continued, softening my voice. “He will not trust such an altruistic gesture because it is easier to believe we are incapable of such acts. When Gideon is in power, then we will visit this again.”
I couldn’t blame her for distrusting my sincerity, but I was too tired to argue further. Exhaustion was quickly overtaking me. For the first time in over a week, there was a chance I might actually sleep.
“It’s getting late,” I said. “You should go home, get some rest.”
She frowned at the clock as if I’d just sent her to bed. “Of course, I can’t continue to live this party lifestyle.” She settled herself deeper into the couch, like an anchor. “Tell me about the fifth object,” she insisted.
I stiffened, surprised by the sudden shift in topic. “It’s late,” I said dismissively. “We will talk about it tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
I sighed, rubbing exhaustion from my forehead before answering. “If possible, we will talk and I will answer whatever question you have to the best of my ability. No more secrets.”
She rose from the couch with a skeptical look. “I expect more than answers ‘to the best of your ability’; I expect the truth and real answers.” Eyeing me sternly, she gathered her purse and the Aufero, and then walked out the front door. Before I could close it behind her, she stopped and turned at the bottom of the porch, dangling my spare keys from her finger.
“I’ll be back tomorrow at nine.” She grinned. “I’ll let myself in if you’re not awake. Is this one for the office? Oh, let’s not bother with such trivial things. I will just snoop around until you get up. Okay?”
I barely stifled a laugh. First she’d beaten Marcia, then she’d taken my keys right from under my nose. She was becoming formidable. A smile cracked my lips when I felt my wolf suddenly rush to the surface, warning me.
Danger.
Peering into the shadows across the street, I caught a hint of movement. Chains clanked as something approached. Six doglike beasts stepped into the street, revealed by the light of the half-moon reflecting from the pavement. The beasts growled, spilling drool from their lips and baring rows of daggerlike teeth. Only the thick, clinking chains around their necks kept them from charging. At the end of the chains, a tall, thick man in a dark blue duster effortlessly steered them, three chains clutched in each hand. A rifle was strung across his back, and I noticed the protruding pommel of a sword beneath his duster.
Samuel.
“Skylar,” I hissed, my eyes fixed on the oncoming threat, “come here.”
The chains groaned as the dogs lurched toward her, their jaws snapping, but Samuel held them to a steady, driving advance. She hesitated, her eyes straining to her left as if to drive her head around to face the threat, but she was terrified, frozen as if by a spell.
“Skylar, come here,” I commanded.
She remained frozen.
The elven hounds strained against their chains. They were magical creatures, mutated for war. Six of them were more than a match for me, but I could draw their attention, buy some time for Sky to escape. Ready for a fight, I stepped out onto the porch. Before I could unleash my wolf, the Aufero glowed in her hand. Suddenly freed from her fear, she clutched the orb to her chest and charged up the steps. I pulled her up, stepping aside to let her run into the house, then barred the doorway.
“Samuel,” I growled.
He pulled at the clinking chains, stopping the hounds just a few feet from my porch. He fixed his attention on Sky behind me, and his lips twisted into a cool and mirthless smile.
“Can you read the Clostra?” he asked her.
How the hell did he find out about that?
When Sky didn’t
answer, he urged his beasts closer, allowing them to lunge and jump against their restraints until he whispered a command that calmed them.
My wolf’s howl echoed in my skull as it demanded to be set loose. “What are you doing here?” I demanded.
“Give me the books,” he said almost casually.
“You know that will never happen.”
“Of course it will,” he promised, then disappeared, taking the chains with him.
The hounds charged.
Targeting the largest of them, I leapt from the porch. If I could face down the leader, the rest of the pack might scatter, but he was an experienced fighter, his neck and face marred by scars. The leader pulled up short, growling and snapping and baring its teeth as we squared off. As we half circled each other, looking for an advantage, the other hounds barked and gnashed their teeth, waiting for blood.
Surrendering to the primitive ferocity of my wolf, I slammed into the leader just before it leapt, driving it back. Its jaws clamped on to my left arm, its teeth piercing my flesh. Ignoring the pain, I hammered my right fist into the hound’s ribs, blow after blow. The unusually dense bone refused to break, but the rain of blows loosened the hound’s grip. Pulling my arm free, I slipped around the hound, wrapped my arm around its neck, gripped its jaw, and twisted. Bone snapped. The body went slack and I released it, allowing the hound to collapse to the ground in a heap.
Another hound leapt, its teeth reaching for my throat. Turning, I struck the animal in the side, sending it sprawling across the grass.
Sky cried out from inside the house. Glancing around, I realized with panic that two of the hounds were scrambling in the doorway. Two other hounds were already inside. Howling my rage, I charged up the steps, took one of the hounds two-handed by the scruff, and hurled it toward the driveway. The other hound turned, snapping its teeth at my hands until I kicked in its skull with my boot.
Inside, Sky was on the floor of the entryway, a hound clamped on to her leg. Her face was scrunched in violent rage as she drove her elbow into its head, forcing it to release her. Before it could lunge, she raised the glowing Aufero. Magic hurled the animal into the wall next to me.
Midnight Shadows (Sky Brooks World: Ethan Book 3) Page 26
