But I heard a great deal. The wind whispering through the trees. Branches snapping. Something crunching—
Under my hand, something brittle cracked and I picked it up.
Gorge rose up in my throat to choke me as I found myself staring at a bone.
“Are you going to scream, Jianna? The lemera will find you so easy then. And she prefers to hunt her prey.” A taut moment of silence. Followed by the malicious whisper, “Run…”
⸸
I came awake starving for air, choking for it and clawing at the air.
Nothing made sense.
The blankets were ropes binding me.
The darkness was that of the forested foothills surrounding the mountains where the Dominari had been run. The mountains where I’d planned to go so I could just…die.
Swallowing reflexively, I continued to fight the tangle of blankets while Damon came awake next to me.
“Kit?”
Shaking my head, I ignored him and stumbled off into the bathroom.
“Are you going to scream, Jianna? The lemera will find you so easy then. And she prefers to hunt her prey.”
The lemera.
Myth, I told myself as I stumbled into the bathroom. The light came on automatically, so I smacked at it, half blind, my head aching. I didn’t want light. I didn’t want to look at my reflection.
Some part of me was convinced I’d look into the mirror and see…
That did it.
I ended up over the toilet, hurling up what little I’d eaten in the past twelve hours.
Even when I’d emptied my stomach, I continued to wretch. Sweat trickled down my face and neck, but I couldn’t stop the spasms.
Damon crouched down behind me and I jumped when he put a cold, damp washcloth on the back of my neck. A shiver raced through me, but it felt good against my overheated skin.
This wasn’t happening.
It couldn’t be.
Bits and pieces of a broken memory flashed through my mind and I cringed, feeling like the young girl I’d been as I stared at the battered, destroyed body that had been carried through the gates of Aneris Keep.
Fanis had come out of Aneris Hall and stood at the top of the stairs, watching with a faint smirk.
“Jianna never should have run. Why some think they are capable of taking on the Dominari, I will never know. But this is a lesson for you younglings. One day, you will have the choice to make. You can run and prove yourself worthy to serve in my guard, perhaps one day lead my guard…but if you fail…”
She’d gestured to the body as Jianna was turned over to her mother.
The woman, clad in training leathers, hadn’t even looked down at the body still on the stretcher, remaining in formation with the rest of her unit.
My aunt had been leading the guard’s training that day and she’d gone to Jianna’s mother and dismissed her, ordering a few of the others to take up the stretcher since the men who’d carried it had already left.
I’d seen her then.
The children had been in the yard, doing their own training session.
It was the first time I’d seen anything dead, save for animals.
Jianna could have been an animal, for all that was left of her. Her face looked like little more than meat and two of her limbs had been all but gone.
I started to heave as the memory, so long forgotten, played itself in my head, over and over.
Jianna’s body hadn’t even left the training yard when Fanis spoke again, her voice cold and mocking. “There is too much weakness within my ranks. The aneira were once such a strong, proud race…I should turn the lemera loose, point it here. Only the strong would survive and perhaps we could rebuild our people anew.”
I’d wanted to ask what a lemera was. But I’d already learned that lesson—I was better off not asking questions. Not speaking. Pretending I didn’t exist.
Another asked anyway.
We were told lemera were monsters from legends, not even real.
Our trainer that day had ignored the boy who’d pushed for answers on what had happened to Jianna. It had been Anista who had authority over the younger pupils at the time. She was my great-aunt, or perhaps a great-great. But she’d been older, slower in speech and movement, time finally starting to show in her face.
“Just legends, boy. The lemera don’t exist.”
I’d seen her face as she walked by me, tucked away at the very back of the class.
And she’d lied.
Maybe the lemera shouldn’t exist, but they did.
Another violent spasm wracked me but nothing came up this time. Damon stroked a hand up and down my arm and I realized he had been holding me up for some time, while I was gripping the forearm around my waist so tight my fingers ached.
“Think you’re done?” he asked softly.
“Yeah.” It came out in a croak, my voice raw, throat sore.
As he helped me to my feet, there was a knock at the outer door, followed by the sound of it opening.
“Not now,” he said.
“It’s important.” Chang was already at the door to the bathroom, his eyes tracking from my face to Damon’s. “Are you ill, Kit?”
I shook my head even as Damon said, “What do you think? Unless somebody is dead, go away.”
Chang did not go away.
“Please tell me somebody isn’t dead,” I muttered as I turned the water on.
“As I said, it’s important.” There was a faint pause. “Kit, your aunt is here.”
Bent over the sink, face now dripping from the water I’d splashed over my face, I froze.
The knee-jerk instinct was to run.
I quelled it and splashed my face with water once more.
If Chang was calmly telling me this, it wasn’t one of my grandmother’s diligent daughters, or even one of younger sisters, here to kill me in hopes of seeking favor.
So it wasn’t the mysterious blonde woman.
There was only one who could show her face and not immediately expect claws in the gut, or worse.
The tension coming off Damon only added to the nerves jumping and dancing inside me, but I managed a nod. “Okay,” I said. Rinsing out my mouth, I straightened over the sink and stared at my reflection. “Tell Rana I’ll be there…soon.”
I was pale, shadows lying under my eyes like bruises. The exhaustion hadn’t let up with the nap so I still felt hollowed out and drained. I could use some food, but the thought of eating while that dream still danced in my head only made me want to the hit the floor again and start vomiting all over.
In the mirror, I could see Damon glaring at Chang and the other man inclined his head before disappearing.
“You need to rest. Eat.”
“If I eat anything right now, it won’t stay down.”
He put his hands on my shoulders and met my gaze in the reflection. “Were you dreaming about her again?” he demanded.
Her being my grandmother. The nightmares about what she’d done to me had woken me from my sleep for years and sometimes, those dreams came back.
Tonight, though…I couldn’t describe tonight’s dream.
A nightmare within a nightmare?
Reaching up, I covered his hand with mine.
“I can’t explain it. I should talk to Rana, see why she is here. I’ll get some more rest when I think I can do it without seeing…” I wasn’t ready to tell him about the dream, so I just grimaced. Turning around, I went to my toes and kissed his chin. “Growl later, okay?”
⸸
Rana was waiting in the Clan’s war room.
The long table had enough chairs placed around it to seat every high-ranking shifter and strong witch in the region, but there were rarely more than a few people in this room at any one time.
Five or so shifters was enough for me, their energy coming together to make my skin itch and crawl.
I would have rather been in that room with every shifter in the damn state, every witch, even a couple of vamps, than t
o walk in there and stand face to face with my aunt.
My hands were sweating as she turned to look at me.
The sight of her didn’t do anything to make me feel better, either.
She looked…tired.
I couldn’t say she looked old—I had no idea when she’d been born, although I suspected she’d seen more than a century.
In human years, one might think she looked to be in her late thirties—and beautiful with it. It was the strong sort of beauty, nothing frail or delicate about her. Confidence all but exuded from her, even as tired as she was.
But that confidence seemed duller somehow and she carried herself as if she was worn thin.
“What’s happened?” I asked, not even thinking about how she might take that.
Rana slid into a chair at the far end of the table, folding her hands in front of her. A faint smile danced on her lips as she turned to face me. “You are so like your mother. She was as impetuous as you, Kitasa.” Then she shrugged dismissively. “My troubles are not why I am here. They needn’t concern you.”
“If they’ve got you looking like you’ve been on the run for weeks on end, then I kind of think I should be concerned. What’s happened?” I sat down at the far end of the table. A moment after I did so, a steaming pot of tea appeared at my elbow, along with a delicate cup.
Chang said nothing as he took up position next to me.
Damon had already moved to the window at the far end, staring outside but at my comment, he looked back at Rana and I could see him taking her measure.
Pouring myself some tea, I sipped at it. The spicy-sweet brew hit my belly like a balm as I waited for her to respond.
“Considering the fact that you look like you have fought a war—and lost—I would think you should concern yourself with matters closer to home,” Rana responded. Then she lifted a shoulder and tipped her head back to study the ceiling overhead. “I overplayed my hand, niece. The queen knows I aided you, knows I brought you the shield. I have been cast out.”
Shock hit hard and I put down the delicate cup before I dropped it.
She turned her head and met my eyes.
“She sent people after you,” I said quietly. “You have been on the run.”
“She sent people after me,” Rana agreed. “And those people died.” Tone pensive, she shook her head. “Our numbers are so few and she sent them after me, knowing I would slaughter them. I am her strongest warrior and she thought I would meekly allow my own life to be taken, simply to satisfy her.”
“Perhaps it’s time for a coup within your ranks,” Chang suggested.
She glanced at him. “Too many are still loyal to her. Until they either see the light or they die, it would lead to the annihilation of my people.”
“I’d like to say it sucks that you’re having a shitty family life and I’m sorry you and your mom are having problems, but frankly, I don’t give a rat’s ass,” Damon cut in caustically. Turning from the window, he moved over to the table and took a chair across from Rana. He dropped into it and pinned her with a hard look. “If you led anybody here—to Kit—I’ll kill you.”
“I know you would.” She smiled, looking pleased. Then, she sighed and shook her head. “But I’m afraid that cat is already out of the bag. Fanis knows where you are, Kit. Puck took care of that.”
“Yet one more reason to hate Robin.” After taking another sip of tea, I got up to pace myself. I was too tired to sit in one place and not give in to the urge to sleep. “Is she sending people here after me?”
The odd silence sent cold tripping down my spine.
Slowly, I turned to face Rana.
She was staring at me with an expression I couldn’t describe.
“She has made it clear she will not risk her loyal subjects to the unnatural peoples in this region and declaring an open hunt on you would do just that,” Rana said, her inflection flat. “She had a better plan in mind.”
Rana’s gaze bored into mine and I felt the weight of the silent message she was trying to relay.
But I didn’t need the heavy press coming from whatever weird connection we shared.
I already knew.
The deep, hidden part of me that still fears monsters in the dark had already pieced it together when Icarus talked about unseen monsters. That’s what had stirred the nightmares.
I just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. The dream had been my subconscious forcing me to do just that.
“The lemera,” I said, the word thick and alien on my tongue.
Rana inclined her head.
“She sent it here.” Turning away, I scrubbed my hands up and down my face, telling myself I wasn’t going to get sick again. I couldn’t.
“Not exactly.”
Relief formed, like a bubble swelling up. Spinning back to Rana, I waited.
But the look on her face had that bubble popping immediately.
“The lemera can’t be sent out like a good little soldier, given an errand and expected to complete an assignment. It needs a handler…a leash.” She brushed a hand across the sword worn at her side, a gesture I recognized. “Fenele is here.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
I’d blocked everything out when she said that name.
She’d tried to speak more on the subject, but I’d just raised a hand and shook my head, walking out of the room.
Behind me, I heard Chang asking, “Who is finale?”
“Fenele,” Rana corrected him.
Their voices grew fainter, but not fast enough. I moved quicker down the halls, aware that Damon was trailing me. He was always there—even when he wasn’t, a ghost lingering in my mind, heart and soul.
When I ducked into our rooms, he was just a few feet behind me, still keeping his distance.
Even when I sat down on the couch in front of the fire, Damon said nothing. He pushed a button on the table console in front of us, bringing the fire to a soft, warm glow and I tucked my face against my upraised knees.
Endless moments passed.
Still, he stayed silent.
“You’re not going to go away, are you?” I asked, my voice muffled.
“Did you expect me to?” The couch gave way under his heavy body as he shifted his weight from the coffee table to the cushions next to me. But he didn’t stop there. He pulled me onto his lap, his lips seeking out the mark he’d put on my neck months earlier.
“You never seem to.” Sighing, I snuggled into him.
“About time you get that through your head.” He rubbed the scar for a few seconds before changing direction and moving to one of the uglier ones on the other side, one left by a vampire. I tensed, but he didn’t stop and after a moment, I relaxed. He kissed one, then another.
Did you really think I wasn’t coming for you?
His kisses against the marks were a reminder of those words, spoken in a raw voice on that cold mountain. It almost felt like another lifetime ago. Almost. But it wasn’t.
The fear was becoming less and less a part of me, but it was still there. And buried under it were older fears. “I’m so tired of being afraid of things,” I said softly.
“Fear ain’t ever stopped you before, baby girl. Whatever this is, whoever this is, it’s not going to stop you now.” Curling his arms around me, he tugged me in closer and rested his chin on my shoulder. “Talk to me.”
Blankly, I stared at the fire. Talk…where did I start?
“The first time I saw Doyle, it was like I’d been punched. I should have figured it out then, you know. That something was weird. But…I don’t know. Maybe I blocked it out.” Belatedly, I realized my fingers were hurting and I forced myself to loosen my grip on his arm. “There’s this…race. Have I ever told you about the Dominari?”
I looked up as I asked him and he brushed my hair back. His jaw was tight, eyes nearly opaque. “You mentioned it when Rana first came here. She said you wouldn’t have survived. I thought maybe I’d be better off not knowing—trying to avoid us fighting. But…maybe I
need to know.”
“It’s no secret that I wanted to die, Damon.” I tugged against his hold.
He resisted.
“Please.” Shaking my head, I said in a thick voice, “I need to be up. I have to move.”
His hands squeezed my waist convulsively, then he let go. As I rose, he bent forward, elbows braced on his knees. His hands began a familiar pattern of flexing at the air, like a cat kneading at something with his claws.
“Tell me, Kit.”
“One runs the Dominari to secure a place in the Queen’s guard.” As I paced, I pulled a dagger from its sheath on my forearm. I twirled it and stared at the way light danced off the surface of the blade. “That wasn’t my goal. I knew I’d never finish the course. The Dominari is brutal. The terrain alone has been known to cause injuries that take months to heal. But there is…” I hesitated and looked away for a moment, bracing myself.
When I looked back at him, he was no longer flexing his claws. His fists were so tight, bone pressed white against his skin.
“Each of our races has its nightmares, right? Shifters dread when their young don’t make a successful transition, or when one or more of their numbers go feral. Vampires keep their newly dead contained until they know there will be no loss of control…and apparently, they’ll even kill those newly dead if an older vampire has decided he’s ready to die—all to prevent mass slaughter.” I hitched up a shoulder. “And every House among the witches can tell horror stories about those of their ilk that went wrong. We all have nightmares.”
His gaze lifted. “You have your lemera.”
“Yes.” The blade slipped. I caught it, barely, and decided it might be a good idea to put it away. Tucking it back into the sheath, I moved back over to him and took the spot he’d vacated on the coffee table. “They tell us it’s a fairy tale, an…” The word escaped me. “What do you call it? Like the bad guy with the hook, upstairs calling the babysitter?”
Confusion flickered in his eyes, then he nodded. “You mean urban legends.”
“Yes. That sort of thing. But the lemera aren’t just scary stories told to little girls and boys.” Images of Jianna’s destroyed body flickered in my mind. “Bodies come back from the Dominari—pieces and chunks of them missing. Like they were...” The urge to puke had me swallowing, hard. More saliva pooled in my mouth, but I fought it back. “Bones were broken. Flesh ripped. Sometimes they’d look eaten, other times just…torn. Our monsters are in the mountains surrounding our capitol city…and the queen controls them.”
Haunted Blade (Colbana Files Book 6) Page 21
