Into Evernight: an Urban Fantasy Novel (Fearless Destiny Book 2)

by Debbie Cassidy

  I watched him leave, and as soon as he was out the door I slid off Baal’s lap.

  I was so done playing.

  Baal cleared his throat. “I apologise for the drama.”

  “Just the drama? You could have told me what acting like your sharmuta entailed.”

  “I was concerned you may over-think the role.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Some time to think at all would have been nice.” I ran my gaze over him, avoiding looking at his crotch which had been pretty hard for the full forty minutes we’d been at the table.

  I cleared my throat. “Good acting by the way.”

  His lips curled, and he unfurled himself from his seat and padded across the floor toward me until we were chest to nose.

  “You’re a desirable woman, Kenna, so it wasn’t a hardship. But trust me when I say I will respect your boundaries. This is a partnership, yes, but I am not the kind of man to forget what kind.” He sounded cool and unaffected by the heated moments we’d just shared.

  I forced myself to meet his eyes, wanting him to see that I was just as unaffected as him, but the intensity in his jade eyes stole my breath, forcing me to back up a step.

  “We should go speak to your sister now, right?”

  He inclined his head. “Of course.”

  He breezed past me on a waft of liquorice and spice. I followed behind, walking in the danger zone of his scent. I’d have to watch my step around this djinn, because my body was in complete disagreement with my mind on this one.

  10

  Baal led me to a door hidden behind a set of drapes, up a winding set of stairs and to another door.

  “You keep your sister in a tower?”

  He didn’t reply, simply knocked and entered.

  At least she wasn’t locked in.

  The stairs had been tight and winding, so I’d expected the room beyond to be small and cosy. Instead we walked into an airy circular room with a wrap-around balcony and gauzy drapes blowing in a gentle breeze. It reminded me a little of my room in Erebus’s fortress, except it was much bigger and much airier. The furnishings were mismatched, and colourful cushions and fabrics seemed to occupy every surface. The bed sported a princess canopy, and a huge mirrored dresser took up space to my right. The area to the left was filled with canvasses, some clean and white, others splashed with vivid hues, and in the midst of it all stood the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She was dressed simply, in a cream calf-length dress. Her indigo hair hung in waves down her back, her skin was pale as alabaster and tinged with the tiniest hint of rouge high on her cheekbones. Her large green eyes were fixed on me.

  “You came back?” she rushed toward me, hands held out, and before I could react she had me crushed to her bosom in a suffocating embrace.

  Baal moved to stand behind her so he was in my line of vision. He lifted his chin slightly in a go-with-it gesture.

  Ariana pulled back and cupped my shoulders. “I knew you wouldn’t stay mad at him for long. You two, seriously.” She tutted. “Anyway, now that you’re here you can tell me all about your trip.”

  She tugged me toward the dresser and pressed me onto the stool.

  “Look at your hair! Goodness, what did you do to it?” she picked up a brush and began to run it through my locks. “I know you like to be unconventional, but silver? Really? That is so … luma!” she chuckled.

  I glanced at Baal’s reflection in the mirror to see his brow crinkled in thought.

  “Ariana?” he said. “Ariana? Can you hear me?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course I can hear you Baal. I’m not deaf.”

  He moved forward to place a hand on my shoulder. “This is Kenna Carter, a friend of mine. She needs your help to remember something.”

  She stopped brushing, her hand going to her mouth. “Oh … oh, I see. Wrong time, wrong place.”

  “Yes, sweetheart. You need to focus.”

  She placed the brush back on the dresser and closed her eyes, exhaling through her nose. When she opened them, she locked eyes with me in the mirror.

  “Well it’s still lovely to see you again,” she said, “Despite the mixed-up timing.”

  I glanced at Baal again who shrugged.

  “I can’t interfere, you know, you have to do this yourself,” she said to me. “There is a time for everything, and now is not the time.”

  I knew she was different. Special, cursed whatever, but my head was spinning trying to keep up with what she was saying.

  I turned in my seat to face her properly. “Ariana, Baal says you may be able to help me access a memory.”

  She stepped back. “No. Oh no, no, no.”

  “Ariana, please.” Baal took a step toward her. “Focus.”

  Ariana shook her head. “It isn’t the time. I see a garden of Polyander flowers.”

  Baal froze. His jaw tightened and his expression shuttered. “I’m sorry Kenna, maybe we can try again another day.”

  “No.” I stood and moved toward Ariana. I needed to know why they’d taken Sabriel. “Ariana, please. Can you help me? They took my guardian angel from me, his name is Sabriel. I need to know why.”

  Her eyes glazed over. “They never punished him for what he did. They gave him a second chance and he transgressed again and this time they punished him.”

  Hadn’t the scribe said that Sabriel had messed up before? “Yes, can you help me remember what he did to get punished?”

  She turned her gaze on me, and the glaze dissipated to reveal a regard so piercing and intense it sent a shudder through my body.

  “Baal?” I made to take a step back.

  “Don’t move.” Baal hissed.

  I froze and Ariana pounced.

  I bit back a scream as her fingers dug into my scalp, and then my vision fractured into a kaleidoscope of scenes: Erebus training me, Sabriel in the library, Samson attacking me, Bella, sweet Bella holding my hand in the hospital, Brett carrying me down the stairs, the hoard, the eye of the storm, the funeral, a beautiful park filled with children playing … wait what?

  Ariana’s voice filled my head. “This …”

  This …

  “We can’t stay long, Kenna. And you can’t speak to her. Do you understand?” Sabriel asked.

  I nodded. It would be enough to see her, to know she was safe and happy. Sabriel kept his grip on my elbow, a shield hiding me from the eyes of the other angels. As long as I stayed in contact with him, no one would know he’d done this for me.

  The last thing I wanted to do was get him in trouble with the higher angels, but right then my need to see my baby sister was stronger than my desire to protect him. I felt terrible about it, but not bad enough to turn down this opportunity.

  The park was a space that seemed to go on forever, and the children here ranged in ages from five up to around twelve or thirteen.

  “So, do all children come here?” I asked.

  “No, some children opt to grow up, others stay for some time. Some adults opt to become children. Souls aren’t bound to one place here. At present, Bella chooses to be here, that may change in time.”

  I saw her here then—my beautiful baby sister—skipping imaginary rope, her ponytail bobbing up and down in the eternal sunshine.

  “There, I see her. Oh god.” I bit back a sob, my eyes misting.

  And then she saw me, she faltered, her eyes blinking slowly as if waking up from a beautiful dream.

  “Kenna we have to go.” Sabriel tugged on my elbow.

  Bella took a halting step toward me.

  “Kenna!” Sabriel made to grab me.

  He was going to take me away from her. Take me back to the reality of pain and responsibility.

  “No!” I pulled myself free and ran toward Bella.

  Her mouth soundlessly called my name.

  I was almost there, almost.

  “Kenna!” Sabriel’s voice was a desperate plea.

  Then the sun went out.

  “This …” Ariana’s voice filled my head.
>
  Her fingers relaxed, ready to retract, as I floated in darkness waiting to resurface, and then her hands flexed, and intense pain stole my breathe. It shot up my spine, through the base of my neck and into my head.

  I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t cry out. An invisible vice gripped my head, and then I was no longer in the dark. I was on a battlefield smeared with crimson, decorated with bone and flesh. The hilt of a sword sat comfortably in the palm of my hand, its weight a familiar burden. The air was a cocktail of summer breeze and charred flesh. Euphoria bloomed in my breast.

  “Not this!” Ariana’s voice was a boom.

  The vision shattered. The world came back into focus.

  I was gonna be sick.

  Baal’s arms enveloped me, holding me steady as I breathed shallowly through my nose to ride out the nausea.

  “It’s okay,” Baal soothed, his large hand stroking my hair.

  “Almost slipped. Not the time,” Ariana said. “Not yet.”

  “Did you get what you needed?” Baal asked.

  I nodded.

  He loosened his hold, allowing me to step out of his embrace. “I remember everything.”

  Ariana giggled. “Not the time, but when it is, promise you’ll come back and see me?”

  I glanced at Baal, not having a clue what she was on about.

  He inclined his head.

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll come back and visit,” I said to Ariana.

  Ariana cupped my face and looked deep into my eyes. “Be brave, conquer vast, and come home.”

  If I hadn’t glanced at him at just that moment, I wouldn’t have seen him flinch. I would have missed the dark shadow that passed over his face.

  “Come Kenna, we should go.” Baal held out his hand.

  Ariana released me and walked out on to her balcony.

  Something tugged at my solar plexus, a wretched sensation that I quickly squashed, and with a final glance at Ariana’s back, I followed Baal out of the room.

  _____

  “So what now?” I shrugged. “I caused this. I fucked up, and because of me Sabriel ended up being punished.”

  We were back in his chamber with me facing the door while he donned the clothes he had arrived in for our journey back to Lindrealm.

  “Now we wait,” Baal said. “The scribe said that once you remembered, Sabriel would get an appeal. So we wait, and if he’s not back soon we go back to the scribe. In the meantime …”

  I waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t I couldn’t resist a glance over my shoulder. He had his broad back to me, bare and bronze and all kinds of taut. He reached for a shirt hanging of his bedpost, muscles rippling seductively, and I turned away quickly.

  “We need to make a pit stop at the fortress,” Baal said.

  My heart stuttered. “Why?”

  “Because, like it or not, Erebus and his clan are linked to you, and since you’ve been resisting his attempts at contact he’s come to me. He believes that I’m holding you hostage. Keeping you from him. You can turn around now.”

  I spun to face him. “Well, did you tell him I was blocking him on purpose?”

  “Yes. But he wants to hear it from you.”

  Crap.

  “So we make a pit stop. He gets to see you’re okay, say whatever he wants to say, and then we can check in on Brett.”

  Crap I’d almost forgotten about Brett. He was in the lion’s den. “Shouldn’t we check on Brett first?”

  Baal’s gaze softened. “You can’t run from him forever, Kenna. You have to face him sometime. Monarchs do not run from the hard decisions, they face them head on.”

  I exhaled through my nose. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

  Baal held out his hand, and I slipped mine into it. He led me onto his balcony and wrapped his arms around me.

  “You ready?”

  “No.”

  And then we were in the eye of the tornado, and this time not even Baal’s scent could distract me from the fact that I was about to see Erebus again.

  11

  BRETT

  He’d been given his own chambers and a room in which to freshen up. Nadia had been permitted to remain by his side while he waited for the evening celebrations. He’d asked her what the party was in honor of, but she’d changed the subject in such a way that it left a hollow pit of foreboding in his stomach. If he didn’t need her as an ally he would have pressed her for more information, but his gut told him that if he pushed he’d spook her. If he played his cards right, Nadia could be a valuable asset in gathering information. He needed to know for sure that Lauren and the black mages were all right, and if he managed to find out where Caldwell was, even better.

  The party was in full swing when he strolled into the ballroom, Nadia hanging off his arm like a pretty adornment. They stepped onto the black and silver checked floor and circled the revelry, hugging the wall to avoid being crushed by spinning dancers.

  Great, finally some colour. Tonight it seemed the black and silver rule had been abandoned, and noble Twilighters twirled and spun, wrapped in fabrics of all colours. Silk and cotton, lace and sequins danced across the floor to a kind of lilting haunting melody he’d never heard before.

  Twilighters had a love for song, for melody and music, but why was it was so important to them? It was hard to focus on anything but the ocular feast before him, in particular all the hairstyles—sculptures of fibrous protein sat atop necks held so stiff you could have used them as golf clubs. The overload made his head spin. The sooner he spoke to the king and scoped this place out, the sooner he could get the heck back to Lindrealm and normality.

  Nadia’s grip on his arm tightened. “The king is summoning you.”

  Brett scanned the room, searching for this elusive king, and as if on cue the dancers parted to give him a view of the man himself: tall, broad, imposing. His silver-blond hair cascaded over his shoulders and his pale blue eyes twinkled in welcome. The huge pearl and coral throne rising up behind him paled in comparison to his presence, and Brett found his feet carrying him forward of their own accord.

  Nadia stuck to his side, and ouch, she was squeezing his arm tight enough to cut off the circulation. He shot her a quick glance, but her eyes were on Orin.

  They reached the steps where Orin stood, and the king stepped down, offering Brett his hand to shake.

  “A human custom is it not?” His voice was smooth like silk and thick like honey.

  Brett shook the proffered hand, his hand almost swallowed by the king’s paw.

  Nadia had said he’d been a warrior. One who’d captured and controlled The Hunt. He could see that; the man was a giant.

  “I hope you have been enjoying out hospitality,” Orin said.

  Brett nodded and cleared his throat. Great time to lose his voice. “Yes, thank you. Nadia has been very accommodating.”

  Orin’s eyes fell to Nadia, and he blinked slowly. “Good.” He turned his attention back to Brett. “This is a celebration of our renegotiation, an ushering in of new times.”

  Hang on a second. “Surely we would need to agree on terms first?”

  Orin’s brow furrowed slightly. “You are hardly in a position to refuse. From what I hear, your Fearless numbers are steadily dropping, and there seems to have been some confusion at the luma farms with regards to how much luma you should be getting, so the terms are simple enough, Emissary. Lindrealm must recognise me as its regent, and in return I will extend my benevolent protection upon you all.”

  Brett stared at him, waiting for the punch-line. Seconds ticked past and Nadia squeezed his arm again.

  He didn’t know why he was so surprised, after all, they’d come to this very conclusion around Kenna’s kitchen table, he just hadn’t expected the king to be so blunt about it. He’d expected some persuasive action, wining and dining, and a little time to explore Twilight. His heart sank—none of that was going to happen.

  Orin was watching him closely.

  Brett inclined his head and
fixed a thoughtful expression on his face. “I see your point. I’ll make sure to take your offer back to our government for consideration.”

  Orin’s lips curved. “You are the emissary?”

  “Yes.”

  “You have the signed document to prove it?”

  Brett reached into his pocket to retrieve the document.

  “Read it, Emissary.”

  What the heck was going on? Brett unfolded the document and began to read.

  “No, read it out loud, so we may all hear.”

  “The undersigned and named is authorised to act in the interests of the governing body of Lindrealm in matters of state, treaty, and negotiations.” He looked up.

  Orin smiled. “Read on.”

  He looked down at the paper. “There isn’t anything …” Tiny words that didn’t make much sense appeared on the paper as if by magic. An icy finger of dread skipped up his spine. “Et in ultima signature est auctor.”

  A murmur ran through the crowd.

  Brett looked up from the document. “I don’t understand.”

  Orin leaned in, his pale eyes gleaming. “Et in ultima signature est auctor—signature is authorised and final.”

  What was he getting at, whose signature … Oh, shit!

  His dawning comprehension must have shown on his face because Orin stepped back, his lips curled in a satisfied smile.

  “So, Emissary. All we need now is your signature.”

  _____

  How could this have happened? How could they have missed that final little bit of Latin on the document? It didn’t make sense. He paced his chambers. He was trapped—stuck here until someone came for him, or until he signed that damned document. This was supposed to be a negotiation visit. Just talks. His was supposed to take back the terms to Lindrealm for the government to decide whether or not to accept. But now … the power was literally in his hands and he was in Orin’s power.

  Fuck!

  “I’m sorry,” Nadia said. “I wanted to tell you, I did. You’ve been so kind, but …”