Sūnder (Darksoul Book 1)

by Lexi Ander

  Extending his senses further, Sūnder sent energy into the vegetation struggling to survive, giving it some of his vitality. Locating a small amount of toxins, he gathered them up to prevent any further harm. The air became richer, more alive, with every passing minute.

  “Sūnder, the L’fÿns are fools.”

  9

  NOTHING COMPARED to what Gabe felt when the heat poured into him, lighting him up in ways he couldn’t explain. He’d sensed that same energy while having sex with Sūnder, but this was much, much stronger. In his mind’s eye, everything shone with an almost blinding brilliance that caused Gabe’s physical eyes to water, even though he technically wasn’t looking at anything. Sūnder glowed from within, and Gabe had seen nothing, no one, more beautiful.

  He’d expected magick to be an intangible thing, something like telekinesis, where Sūnder manipulated objects with his mind and all he saw was the result. No, this was Sūnder, the magick a part of him. It was him. But the complete understanding of what the essence actually was remained just out of Gabe’s reach.

  With growing awe, Gabe watched as Sūnder reached out, tendrils of his light touching their surroundings. He shared himself with every living thing, and they gave back to him. The flowers suddenly burst into bloom, as if showing off for Sūnder. Inexplicably, Gabe could feel how Sūnder balanced nature, feeding a part of his energy into the work he did. Then Sūnder crossed a patch of pollution and reached out to cleanse it away.

  Gabe opened his eyes. Sūnder was just as brilliant in real life as he was in that ethereal way he’d seen when his eyes were closed. The red, outer ring of Sūnder’s irises gleamed as if a million jewels sparkled in their depths, the bright blue having been reduced to a thread. As Sūnder handled more of the toxins, his light, his… soul, dimmed. Darkened.

  Something clicked into place within Gabe, but he didn’t have time to examine it because he could see exactly how badly the contaminants were harming Sūnder.

  Relying on this new, instinctual information, Gabe reached out and buried his hands in Sūnder’s rapidly sickening light. If left alone, the wrongness would taint Sūnder permanently, so Gabe gathered the sticky goo onto his hands as he finger-combed through the darkness, dragging it away from Sūnder. The inky black began to seep into his own skin, the oiliness making his stomach roil. He didn’t stop though, not until he’d collected every foul drop that had latched onto Sūnder’s soul. When he was finished, Gabe broke the connection to Sūnder, afraid he would undo what he’d accomplished if he continued to hold on.

  “Sun and stars, Gabe, what did you do?” Sūnder’s voice wobbled, sounding stretched thin.

  Gabe ignored him and slowly crawled away, flinching when Sūnder reached for him. “Don’t touch me!” he rasped. “Not yet. I need to… to…” There was something odd about the ick Sūnder had attempted to cleanse from the park. What is it? It didn’t feel right, not like it should. How would he know what pollution should feel like?

  “They brought it. The ones that smell like spring rain and angry winds.”

  Gabe didn’t understand what the trees were trying to tell him.

  “Un-Earth ones, bright and golden and angry.”

  “Gabe, tell me what to do. How can I help you? What are the Ènts speaking of?” Sūnder sounded frantic. Gabe wanted to soothe him, tell him everything was okay, but it wasn’t. He burned. Something moved within him, every part of his body aching as if he had the worst flu of his life.

  “I need a container… a bag or something. Quick.”

  Sūnder barked commands in a language Gabe didn’t know. Knights scrambled, but Gabe couldn’t see what they were doing because his eyes watered as he coughed and hacked. Something scratched at his throat and he swallowed it down. His body wanted to purge, all the signs were there, but he held back because he needed a sample. The nurse in him ran through the symptoms of this sudden illness and compared it to those he knew, a small voice in the back of his mind whispering this was unlike any sickness he’d seen or read of before. Darksoul.

  A clear plastic bag was shoved into Gabe’s hands. It looked like the one from the trashcan in the back of the limo. He didn’t care where it came from, he just retched long and hard into it, his eyes clenched shut. He did not want to see what had clawed its way up his throat. Gabe continued to heave until his stomach was completely purged, emptied even of his breakfast.

  Keeping his eyes shut, he viciously squeezed the top closed and lifted it up to whomever was nearby. “Don’t let it out.” He stamped down the shiver that gripped his spine when the bag shuddered in his grasp. What felt like several hands covered his, and he slowly released his grip, allowing them to take the foulness away.

  The Panthrÿns spoke rapidly in what Gabe was coming to think of as their native tongue as he collapsed onto his elbows, cradling his head on his forearms. His body ached. Sweat drenched his shirt and hair, and holy hell was he tired. He wanted a toothbrush and a gallon of mouthwash to gargle.

  “Please, my Gabriel, can I touch you now?” Sūnder sounded so lost and, if Gabe didn’t know better, afraid. Gabe assessed himself, glad to find he couldn’t feel any of the taint that had threatened Sūnder.

  “Sūnder,” he rasped, his throat too sore to say anything else. But it was enough; he was lifted into Sūnder’s arms. Later, he would be embarrassed at letting Sūnder cuddle him out in the open, maybe even gripe at Sūnder not to do it again. He was a man, not some romantic novel’s damsel in distress. For now, he buried his nose in the column of Sūnder’s throat and breathed in, checking to make sure Sūnder’s scent hadn’t changed, corrupted.

  “You’re scaring me, Gabe. How did you pull the contaminant away from me?” Sūnder stroked his back, the motion soothing Gabe.

  “Wrong. Angry. Un-Earth.”

  Gabe coughed again. “What they said.”

  “You can still hear them?”

  His eyes still watery from his stomach turning inside out, at Sūnder’s strained tone Gabe glanced up, uncertain. “Can’t you?”

  Sūnder looked wary. “Yes, but that’s because of who I am.”

  “Maybe it’s because you’re touching me.” That had to be it. Gabe had never heard the whispery voices of nature until Sūnder showed him. Unless now that Sūnder had revealed them, Gabe couldn’t turn the ability off?

  Sūnder nodded in agreement, although he didn’t seem as if he really believed the excuse. “They are saying the pollution I attempted to cleanse was wrong, not from Earth. How can that be? I should be able to reset the balance of nature here the same way I’ve always been able to on Slorèx.”

  “They brought it. The ones smelling of spring and rain and angry winds. Trap.” The leaves stirred almost angrily.

  Thinking furiously, Gabe sat up, carefully pulling away from the circle of Sūnder’s arms so he could concentrate. He’d become a nurse because he wanted to help people. Ronan had pushed him to become a doctor, asserting Gabe was more than smart enough, but Gabe didn’t have the money. Nor did he want to spend twenty years paying off loans. But just because he hadn’t become a doctor didn’t mean he’d quit learning. He moved the puzzle pieces around in his mind, considering all the information he knew. Darksouls. Panthrÿns. L’fÿns. DarkHunters. Scarab War. Pollution. Magick. Souls. Dementia. Environment. He didn’t know enough. He needed more information… but he had a strong hunch.

  Paulo handed him a bottle of water, startling him. Gabe had forgotten the knights were there. As he drank, he glanced around to see they had their backs to them, keeping him and Sūnder in a tight circle among the trees. Sūnder continued to caress him, his tail wrapped possessively around Gabe’s calf as if he was afraid to let Gabe out of reach. Gabe used the bottom of his shirt to wipe the lingering sweat from his face. Disconcertingly, the plants closest to him also petted him. It was such an odd sight that Gabe grinned, wondering momentarily if he was in some children’s show that was only missing the perky music and talking birds.

  “You won’t do that again,
” Sūnder admonished.

  “Bossy much?” Gabe quipped, not really angry with Sūnder, simply out of sorts.

  “I’m a commander: it’s what I do.”

  At the tremble in Sūnder’s voice, he relented. “I don’t plan on it but, Sūnder, if I asked you not to do something, would you? I know I have no authority to order you, but what you tried to clean up, it was poisoning you. I can’t explain how I knew, I could just see it.” He didn’t dare say more without proof to back up his assertions.

  Besides, they were out in the open, and the trees insisted the pollution had been planted there. On purpose. It wasn’t possible for anyone to have known they would be here. Was it dumb luck that Sūnder had picked this place, or did someone know Sūnder well enough to guess where Sūnder would be? And who knew that he’d be compelled to balance nature? Could there be identical traps planted throughout the city just in case? The idea was far-fetched, but…

  He rubbed his eyes against the dull ache forming behind them. The knights’ talk of DarkHunter assassins must have tainted Gabe’s outlook, not to mention the number of hate-filled articles written by L’fÿns that he’d read when researching Sūnder. Regardless, he couldn’t push away the conversation about L’fÿns waiting for Sūnder to turn into a darksoul. Although, based on what had just happened, this darksoul thing might be a mental illness, perhaps even one connected to or sparked by an environmental matter.

  “What you did shouldn’t be possible, Gabe.” Although outwardly Sūnder only scowled, intense fear radiated from him. But was it fear for Gabe or fear of him?

  He couldn’t figure out how he could still hear the plants, or how he could still feel Sūnder. Was it a side effect of Sūnder showing him his magick? The word magick implied something inexplicable happened when Sūnder reached out to nature, yet that was so far from the truth it was ridiculous. From what he’d seen, Sūnder’s magick followed logical rules, just on a scale most weren’t aware of. And that was another thing: Sūnder shouldn’t take anyone else with him when he accessed his magick. When he did, he exposed his very soul. Someone could damage Sūnder horrifically at that moment.

  “Gabriel? Are you with me?”

  Somehow he was lying in Sūnder’s arms again. He blinked, looking up into Sūnder’s worried expression. Lord, he was beautiful. “I think I need to see one of your Chándariān doctors. Someone you trust implicitly.” Gabe struggled to stand, only managing when Sūnder gripped his elbow and placed a steadying hand on his side.

  “I can carry you.”

  Gabe snorted. “Not in this lifetime if I can help it. I can walk.”

  Sūnder grumbled but didn’t argue further. Gabe wobbled at first, but the more steps he took the better he felt. The entire way to the path out of the park, he and Sūnder endured the affectionate pats and caresses of the woods, which did nothing to help his stability.

  When they reached the sidewalk, he glanced back at the trees. “Are they going to remain animated, alive, like that?” The trees seemed no different than when they’d entered the copse, but he could sense, feel, how alive they were.

  “Plants normally exist in a sort of half slumber. The more I visit a place, the longer they remain fully awake after each visit.” Sūnder squeezed Gabe’s shoulder reassuringly.

  “You called the trees ‘Ènts’. Do they have individual names?” Gabe looked up into Sūnder’s eyes. The red ring was smaller than before, the blue returning to its former brilliant hue and width.

  “On my world, the trees self-possessed enough to relay information are referred to as Ènts.” Sūnder’s gaze was piercing, as if he were trying to read Gabe’s thoughts. More and more, Gabe was beginning to believe there might be some truth to the specualation that L’fÿns crash-landed on Earth long ago. Too many terms were similar, and too many of the myths fit L’fÿns.

  Giving into the need, Gabe put his arm around Sūnder’s waist, trusting the guards to keep watch while he thought today’s events through. Not so long ago he’d convinced himself he could keep company with Sūnder, even sleep with him, and remain unaffected. But when was the last time he’d liked someone upon the first meeting, not needing time to get to know them before he considered them a friend?

  If he were smart, he’d leave. It was his best option. But how could he desert Sūnder if there was a way he could help? From what he’d heard so far, very few people had Sūnder’s back. What if Gabe could correct the misunderstanding between the L’fÿns and other Chándariāns over the darksouls, and lessen the threat to Sūnder and those like him? Sūnder would be able to have a more normal life on Slorèx. He might even find someone worthy enough to be his mate.

  Gabe’s heart hurt at the thought of Sūnder settling down with someone, but if there was a chance to remove the threat posed by L’fÿns and their DarkHunters, Gabe would do everything in his power to make sure Sūnder got the life he deserved.

  You’re just looking for excuses to stay around him longer.

  Gabe pushed the nagging voice away. Whatever the outcome, he’d do what he could to help regardless of the inevitable emotional cost to himself.

  Unhurried, they strolled through the park, Sūnder and the guards slowing their pace to match Gabe’s. The body aches gradually dissipated; he felt almost like himself again by the time they reached the edge of the park. He didn’t gripe at the steadying arm Sūnder kept around him though, and if he leaned into Sūnder, well, he’d blame his weakness on his unsteady legs. Why confess he needed to be close to Sūnder when there was a convenient excuse available? Sūnder’s warmth and scent surrounded him, soothing the sharp edges of his worry and lulling him into a contented bliss.

  Which was shattered when the knights let out an alarmed battle cry, drawing their double swords and encircling him and Sūnder more completely.

  Despite the fact Gabe was tall by human standards, the Panthrÿns practically towered over him. Much to his annoyance, their wide, bulky bodies kept Gabe from seeing over or around them. Sūnder, of course, had no such disadvantage. The string of harsh syllables that came from him suggested Sūnder cussed in his native tongue.

  Paulo tossed Sūnder a couple of sheathed blades.

  “Halt, DarkHunter! Come no further,” Paulo barked.

  “We felt the rise of the taint and only want the darksoul, Knight. There is no need for us to quarrel.” Gabe had expected something more sinister that screamed I’m a murderer of the innocent, not the soft, reasonable voice he heard.

  “Aye, the taint has been expelled, and we have it bagged here if you wish to confirm it.” Through Paulo’s legs, Gabe could barely make out the knotted trash bag that sat on the ground at Paulo’s feet. When Paulo kicked it, the sack writhed, making Gabe’s skin crawl.

  “Nice try, Knight, but it won’t save your tainted prince. We all know there are no means by which to cleanse the fouled. Please, step aside. I vow the execution shall be quick.”

  “You know I will not do that, DarkHunter,” Paulo said, his voice grim.

  “So be it.”

  Gabe had never felt more helpless than when the fighting began, not even when his parents left. At first he couldn’t see much, only catching glimpses of dark-clad, golden-haired L’fÿns from time to time. When one of the knights fell, Sūnder took his place.

  Everywhere he glanced there were so many fighters. Where did they all come from?

  Gabe had only seen such battles on television, and in the movies the action was choreographed so that all the moves were smooth and beautiful, if in a horrific way. Real life battle did not imitate art, and was sloppy by comparison. The clang of metal was loud and almost ear shattering, the smell of blood something Gabe was familiar with from work, but this was mixed with the saltiness of sweat and the stench of offal as people died, losing control of their bodily functions.

  Then there was Sūnder and the haunting song he sang. Fierce and darkly devastating, any who set themselves in his path fell. The circle of knights slowly loosened, the gaps between them becoming wider. A
knight fell without another to take his place and two L’fÿns entered the circle. That they hadn’t expected Gabe to be there was evident in their puzzled expressions.

  One of them sniffed the air, then sneered. “You are defiled, human. Come, we’ll put you out of your misery.”

  The L’fÿn swung his sword impossibly fast. Gabe screamed and fell backward. How he was able to move quickly enough, Gabe didn’t know. He should be dead, sliced through. Instead he lay on the ground looking up at an astonished L’fÿn. Undeterred for long, the male raised his arm for a killing blow. Instead of cringing, Gabe rolled.

  A ferocious, screeching roar filled the air. The nearby trees trembled and groaned.

  Without thinking why, Gabe scrambled to his feet and stumbled toward the tree line. All he could think was that he would be safe if he could reach them. Dodging another L’fÿn, Gabe stopped in his tracks when a silver-haired, dark-skinned dròw leaped on to the back of the L’fÿn chasing him. With unimaginable strength, the dròw tore the head off the darkhunter.

  Whoa!

  “Run to the trees, little Guardian!” The dròw threw the head at another charging darkhunter before he leaped on the distracted fighter.

  Gabe didn’t have to be told twice. Sliding through the blood-slick grass, on the edge of hyperventilating, he was about six feet from the nearest tree when something grabbed him around the waist and at the nape of his neck. He screamed and flailed, attempting to turn and kick out at whoever had caught him, but no one was there. Hoisted into the air, he quit struggling as he rose higher, afraid he’d fall and injure himself. Leafy branches twined around him creating a nest-like basket. Gabe’s skin prickled where the branches touched him. His stomach roiled, and he swallowed convulsively to keep from throwing up again. Burying his face in his hands, Gabe sucked air into his lungs, unsure what to make of his rescue by tree.