by Nyna Queen
She straightened up. Max didn’t ease his grip, sharp bones digging into her sides. Any tighter and he’d crack a rib.
She turned her head. His eyes were still tightly shut.
“We’re on the ground.”
He opened one eye. “Already?” He opened the other. Raised his head and looked around, amazed. “That—wasn’t so bad at all.”
“Told you.” Alex grinned. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy. And now back up.”
Before the kid could protest, she’d wheeled around, taken a running start, and rocketed them back up toward the balcony. But she wasn’t used to carrying another seventy pounds on her back and underestimated the height. Just barely, she managed to clear the balustrade, her feet scraping the stone. She landed hard, skidded, and caught her balance just before they tumbled head over heels. Sweet Jester! She had trained every day since molting but she still wasn’t completely back to her old strength. Her heart pumped wildly in her chest.
Oblivious, Max slid off her back, ran to the balustrade and glanced down. “Wow! That was awwwwesome!” He spun, eyes sparkling. “Can we go again? Pleeease?”
Oh well, why not.
They jumped another couple of times and Max became more brazen with each jump they took, requesting higher points and farther distances, while Josy clapped her hands in delight and spurred them on. Slobber appeared as well, but quickly hid his furry hide behind some bushes, startled by the human beings flying around despite their lack of wings.
For a while, Alex forgot about being hunted, about trudging through etiquette lessons and about nasty old ladies who made you feel like dirt at least ten times a day. She was actually enjoying herself, until Max exclaimed, “This is so cool. I wish I was a shaper,” which certainly wasn’t the message she was trying to get across with this exercise.
Alex halted. “Nah.” She pursed her lips. “You’re something much better. You’re a badass teleporter. That’s why it’s your turn now.”
The boy immediately shied back, all excitement gone in the blink of an eye. Before she could lose him to his insecurity, Alex grabbed his shoulders and turned him toward the balcony.
“Come, we’ll do it together.” She held out her hand.
Max’s head moved quickly from side to side. “Uh-uh. Not supposed to teleport anybody else. Too risky.”
Alex made a dismissive gesture. “Ah, pshht, risky-schmisky! I don’t care. I trust you.”
His eyes turned as big as the moon that was shining down on them. “Really?”
“Sure!” Alex said with a lot more confidence than she felt. It occurred to her that if he screwed up they could end up anywhere, including impaled on a balcony balustrade. But any doubt she showed now would only ruin the trust they had just built.
Max contemplated the balcony with his lower lip caught between his teeth.
Come on, kid. Come on!
“Okay.” He fluffed his hair. “Let’s do this.”
He took her hand and she squeezed his in return and winked at him. Max took a deep breath. Magic wrapped around them. Alex felt a tug, as if someone had yanked a hook into her chest, though she didn’t feel any pain. The ground vanished, everything went dark and she had that particular feeling of falling you get in a nightmare and then—crack.
Alex swayed and grabbed the first thing within reach. It was the stony balustrade of a balcony. Of the balcony. Mother’s mercy and Jester’s grace! And the Blind Child’s cursed eyes in the dark! He’d done it. He’d really done it. Her knees felt wobbly. Around them, the furniture was upturned and scattered across the stones but at least nothing appeared to be broken. Max was standing beside her, his mouth hanging open in astonishment.
“I-I did it,” he murmured, then louder, “I did it!” Down below Josy let out a whoop of joy.
“I knew you could.” Alex ruffled his hair and he storm-hugged her.
With a wicked grin, he took a step back and—crack.
Ah, shit!
Alex stumbled towards the balustrade, fighting panic.
Max reappeared behind Josy and pinched her back. She squealed in surprise. Slobber let out a startled yelp. Max was giggling himself silly.
Alex quickly jumped down to them and joined in their celebration and an admittedly quite childish chorus of “Did-it, did-it, did-it.” After a moment, Slobber found the guts to join them and jumped around them with his characteristically drunken gait, sneezing with happiness.
“What’s all the racket?”
Alex swiveled around, the laughter dying in her throat.
Heloise was standing inside the terrace door, in a buttoned-up nightdress, curlers in her hair. A scrawny creature out of a scare story. She took in the scene, including Max, and her eyes turned into small slits. “What. Is. This?”
Max pushed himself to the front, emboldened by his success. “We’re practicing!”
“Practicing?” Heloise gasped with consternation. “Pract—! Now, that’s the limit!” She pointed a bony finger at him. “To your room, at once!”
The boy’s brow furrowed with anger. He looked short of crying.
“Fine!” he spat. There was another crack and he vanished, reappearing on the balcony above them. “Fine!”
He stomped inside, slamming the door with enough force, so that anyone who might have slept through the previous hubbub was sure to be awake by now.
His grandmother stared up at the balcony, her mouth slack with shock. “D-D-D …”
Oh, the look on her face. Priceless!
Josy seized the chance to vanish inside as well.
Alex picked up one of the kids’ jackets which had been discarded at some point and strolled past the old lady, unable to hide her smug grin. “I believe he’s learned his lesson.”
Before Heloise could break out of her stupor, Alex jumped onto the balcony and headed for her bedroom. The next day there would be hell to pay, there was no doubt about that, but that night she fell asleep with a big smile on her face and children’s laughter in her ears.
“AAAAAAAAHHHH!”
Josepha’s scream cut through the quiet afternoon.
With a vicious curse, Darken dropped his carryall on the stoop of Helton Manor, ripped the front door open—twisting the hinges in the process—and raced down the corridor, trailing the source of the scream. His magic was hovering at his fingertips, on the verge of exploding out of him.
He burst into the living room at the same moment his niece reached the door at a full pelt. She bumped into him, stumbled back and flapped her arms around wildly to keep her balance. Darken caught her shoulders and steadied her before she could fall, hastily looking her up and down. But besides flushed red cheeks, he saw no sign of injury—nor any sign of fear.
Instead, she grinned widely and grabbed his sleeve. “Help me, Uncle Darken. Help me! She’s coming after me!”
Before he could wonder who “she” was and why in the name of the Great Mother she was after his niece, a familiar female voice drawled, “Sugar, don’t you dare hide behind your uncle!”
Darken looked up. Alex was leaning in the door frame that led to the adjourning library, her thumbs hooked into the belt loops of a pair of soft, flowing, navy blue pants. On top, she wore a thin white blouse that had been unbuttoned, revealing her slender neck and a hint of cleavage, just deep enough to promise a glimpse inside that was never delivered. She watched him with guarded amusement.
Want!
Darken wasn’t exactly surprised by the hot desire that flooded him at the mere sight of her but it staggered him nonetheless. It wasn’t quite like the need he felt when he was due for a kill, that cutting physical and mental pain that threatened to rip him apart with fiery claws. No, this feeling was deeper, sweeter, burrowing out from the inside of his bones, working its way down his limbs into every corner of his being, unraveling him thread by thread, while he knew that if he could only hold her in his arms it would sew him back together and make him whole again.
The rush of desire teleported him back into
the little cubicle at the compound the night before, to the sound of heavy breathing and the feeling of cold, clammy skin beneath his burning fingers.
Despite the tests taking place without a hitch, the handlers had insisted that he get some extra relief to “be on the safe side” before they signed his leave papers. True, he hadn’t shown any high levels of aggression or blood lust but nobody wanted to risk anything by sending him out so quickly again. Since Darken had no way of explaining his aversion to touching another woman and declining would have jeopardized his leave, he'd had to accept.
He hadn’t looked at the woman beneath him while he had performed mechanically, filled with a deep-seated loathing. For the Order. For that room. For the sickening sterility of the onetime bedclothes. And for her. He didn’t remember her face or her scent, the only thing he remembered was that she wasn’t Alex and that it had almost driven him out of his mind.
By the time he finally got dressed, physically relieved but unsatisfied in heart and mind, the fury had boiled down to shame and an absurd feeling of guilt. He knew that these feelings were being reflected through his expression right now as he looked at Alex, his eyes a window into his churning soul.
The amusement fled from her face and her expression hardened for a second. Then she focused her attention back on his niece, who was still clinging to his arm.
Josy swallowed and took a quick step back, accidentally stepping on Darken’s toes. “Can’t—can’t we talk about it?”
“I think I made myself pretty clear.” Alex pointed one finger in Josy’s direction. “Another comment about my poor choice of language and you’ll bitterly regret it!”
“Ohhhh, I’m soooo scared now!” Josy made huge eyes at Alex but there was a twinkle of humor dancing in them.
“That’s it!” Alex cracked her knuckles. “I’m gonna throttle you.”
“A lady,” Josy said importantly, sounding eerily like her grandmother, “never stoops to making threats.”
“And I swear, if you say the words ‘a lady’ one more time, I’ll dunk your little ass in the garden pond until you won’t know which way is up.”
“A lady also doesn’t use the word a—aaaaaahhh!” Josy squealed as Alex pushed herself through the door frame and vaulted over the couch. The girl spun away from Darken, ducking under his arm, scooted out of the door and pelted down the corridor in a whirl of giggles and slapping slippers.
Alex gave chase. For a second she and Darken were both caught between the wooden door frame, her chest brushing his, their eyes locked, like two grains of sand in the middle of an hourglass. A frozen second, a moment of countless possibilities. But time always caught up too quickly. Darken leaned back just an inch, clearing the way, and Alex was off, racing after his niece. There were a couple more shrieks that made him flinch, followed by laughter.
A door at the end of the corridor opened and his brother poked his head out. “Is the coast clear?”
Darken blinked.
His brother waved him over. “You’d better come in as long as you can.”
With another look over his shoulder and a confused shake of his head, Darken followed Stephane into his study. Crossing his arms and ankles, he leaned against the closed door. “Did I miss something?”
Stephane fell into the chair behind his desk, which was overflowing with papers. “The last two days have been a bit … turbulent. I’ll admit, I’ve been hiding in here to escape the worst of it.” He pointed at the mess on his desk.
Darken arched an eyebrow. “That bad?”
Stephane snorted. “You have no idea. Mother and your spider are engaging in shouting matches at least half a dozen times a day. It’s lucky that our closest neighbors are too far away to hear or the guardaí would constantly be knocking at our door. Everybody is still alive, though. Under the circumstances, I consider this a success.”
Darken briefly wondered when the spider had become his spider but his brother didn’t give him time to ponder this thought.
“But enough of that,” Stephane said, nodding at him. “What about the Order? To be honest, I didn’t expect you back so soon. Not that I am not a tiny little bit delighted …”
Darken let him know quite graphically what he thought about that comment, then became serious again.
“Lord Falcrum couldn’t get rid of me quickly enough.” He told his brother all about his talks with the provost and with Belaris. “It appears we’ve been stirring up a hornet’s nest.”
His brother smiled grimly. “I’m not afraid of getting stung.”
“That makes two of us. Belaris will be in touch as soon as he can.” Darken glanced at the desk. “What about here? Parliament met, didn’t it? Anything on our suspects?”
The sound Stephane made could only be associated with smelling something rotten.
“Just the same old rut. If I could convert all the slime they’ve been dripping around me these past few days into coin, I’d be a made man. Everybody wants to express their condolences to me. Debayne actually suggested that I hand out tickets.” He smiled weakly, then shook his head. “You should have seen how they fell over each other to offer me their assistance. Of course, if I took any of them up on it, most of them would find a convincing excuse to back out at the last minute, and those who’d give me support would, in return, expect me to let them in on all of my secrets.” Disgust washed over his features. “All that eyewash, how I abhor it! I’m longing for the time when people still stood by their word.”
Darken laughed. “Was there ever such a time?”
“At least there was a time when I believed so.” Stephane sighed. “But in this political swamp you either become corrupt or you sink.”
“And you?”
His brother looked up at him and shook his head. “I’m still struggling to work out which side I belong to.”
Something crashed outside of the room, followed by a holler of outrage and the startled baying of a dog.
Darken was already halfway out of the door when his brother stopped him with a wave of his hand.
“Don’t bother.” He grimaced. “The household has gotten so used to the constant screaming and clashing, most of them barely flinch anymore. I tell you, if something serious were to happen under this roof, nobody would move so much as a finger. I’m actually considering installing sound wards to mute all the yelling.”
A wry grin curved Darken’s lips. “Mother is giving her a hard time?”
“If you can believe Mother, it is the spider who is giving her a hard time. According to Mother, she is rebellious, sassy, coarse, and utterly ineducable.”
Oh yes, that sounded like the spider. Still. “I admit she is a bit rough around the edges but—”
His brother coughed. “Sandpaper is rough, old son. That woman is as sharp as barbed wire.”
Well, there was no denying that.
He hesitated. “Do you think she will be ready?”
Stephane surveyed him over the papers on his desk. “That, my dear brother, I guess we will find out soon enough.”
“WHY are we doing this again?”
Edalyne gave Alex a lenient smile from the other side of the coach—perhaps because it was the third time she’d asked this question. Sweet Jester, she was becoming as bad as Max.
“See it as your litmus test, dear,” Max and Josy’s mother said and reached over to adjust one of the delicate silver chains woven into Alex’s complicated pinned up hairdo. “If you can fool them, then you should be fine at the ball as well.”
Which was all well and good to say but they didn’t have a Plan B at the ready if she screwed things up. The fact that she had to rock this weighed on Alex like a ton of bricks. Scratch that! An entire castle!
Their coach sped along the paved mountain road, its huge bulletproof glass windows providing a perfect view of a breathtaking mountain panorama to their right. Beyond a sharp incline, a crystal clear lake reflected the sun like a polished silver coin. The trees glowed cheerfully in the bright afternoon sun, qui
te different from Alex’s current mood.
She rubbed her hands on the soft lilac skirt of her dress, glad that shapers didn’t easily sweat. The dress’ bodice with its short, transparent whispers of sleeves, was made of lilac and lavender silk, accented by darker threads of violet and dotted with chips of amethyst stones embedded into the fabric, shrouding her in the pale sky of dawn, just when the sun made its first peek above the horizon.
She just wished it would shroud a bit more. Mother’s mercy and Jester’s grace, why did the neckline have to be so damn low? Although Josy had assured her several times that it was considered sufficiently prim, Alex, who wasn’t used to flaunting her breasts, had the feeling she only had to breathe too deeply and her tits would jump right over the top. No doubt Darcy would have loved this. Annoyed by the reminder, Alex reached up and tugged at the fabric.
Edalyne swatted at her finger. Alex bared her teeth with a snarl, then remembered herself and dropped her hands. Closed her eyes.
“You’ll be fine,” Edalyne told her, clearly able to feel her anxiousness. “Just remember your training. Chin up. Look like you belong.”
A lot easier said than done, when, clearly, you didn’t. Alex wished she could siphon some of the unshakable confidence the other woman projected. It had to be a facade, but, damn her, it was hellishly convincing.
“Your mother-in-law would say that’s a physical impossibility,” Alex muttered.
“Ah, dear, don’t take to heart what Heloise says.”
Alex looked down at her hands, manicured and soft from all the creams and oils, no outward sign of the venomous claws hidden underneath the skin. “Why does she hate me so much?”
“Oh, she doesn’t hate you. Not you, specifically, that is. It is shapers in general, she … has a problem with.”
“But why?” True, some shapers did horrible things, but so did trueborns and halfborns for that matter. Most of her kind just wanted to be left in peace.
Edalyne sighed and idly stroked one of the thick plush cushions on the bench. “Many members of the royal elite hold the opinion that we—trueborns—are what they call ‘a higher breed.’ An entirely different race than the halfborns. Vaguely genetically related perhaps, like the human race is related to the apes, but essentially different; an evolutionary lineage split off from the halfborns a long time ago. Born to rule by virtue of our genetic superiority.” A deep crease appeared between her fine, dark eyebrows. “However, there is a flaw in that theory. And that flaw is you. Shapers.” She indicated Alex’s silhouette. “You are the visible proof that we can breed with halfborns and produce viable offspring capable of reproduction, which is usually a strong sign of a close genetic relationship.
