The Dark Matters Quartet

by Claire Robyns

Greyston dug his elbows in to help scrape himself into a sitting position against the headboard. She was right. For the first time, his muscles didn’t tremble with the effort. He folded his arms and narrowed his eyes on the bane of a woman.

  Her hair was twisted into a low knot, revealing a slide of slender neck. Her dress was chiffon, layers of bronze, silver and fire that played a wicked game with her seductive curves. Georgina was an erotic fantasy of his memories and current reality, and he wanted none of it. If she informed him right now that she was leaving, that this was the last time he’d ever see her, he’d feel nothing but relief. He couldn’t forgive, and he wanted to forget.

  She turned from the window and spent a long moment, far too long, looking at him. Her face softened in emotions that were usually reserved for the living dead.

  “I’m not dying,” he grunted. “I did not survive a mid-air collision, and a demon apocalypse, just to be taken out by a damned cough.”

  “My God, you make a miserable patient.” She pulled a smile on and came to sit on the edge of the bed. “Well, if you’re feeling strong enough to whine, then you’re strong enough to tell me.”

  “Tell you what?”

  “Lily told me what she saw. The Red Hawk sailed right into the middle of the Gossamer and both ships simply broke apart.” She selected a slice of buttered toast from the tray and held it out to him, summer dancing in her eyes. “How in blazes did you survive that?”

  “Ferdie.” He took the toast and bit down.

  Her nose scrunched. “The Red Hawk engineer?”

  “He was a regular visitor the last time I was laid up in a bed,” Greyston found himself explaining. Because this was Georgina, and she seemed to have a special gift for plucking his life stories straight from his gut. “In that clinic in Austria. I’d been there about a month, and the doctors had no hope. They informed me I’d never use my leg again.” He finished the toast in another bite and reached over for another slice. “As you can imagine, I was not at my most charming.”

  Georgina snorted. “Why, no, I could never imagine that.”

  “I was a wretched bastard,” Greyston admitted with a wry grin, his thoughts sinking back to that day. “Ferdie told me to think of one thing I’d like to do when I walked out that clinic and hold onto it. I told him nothing, there wasn’t a single thing I could think of that I wanted to ever do again.”

  “Let me guess what he said to that,” Georgina drawled. “Then you may as well hurry up and die.”

  “Close enough,” Greyston chuckled. “But then, of course, I did think of one thing. I wanted to set sail on the Red Hawk, turn her on a heading and just fly, sail a straight line for three days and then get off wherever I ended up.

  “By the time I was finally released from the clinic, Ferdie had installed a simulated co-pilot on the Red Hawk. A mechanism that locks in the bearing and speed, and triggers an alarm at foreign vibrations close enough to pose a threat.”

  He wiped the crumbs from his mouth and rested his head back against the headboard. “Because, he said, I’d need to sleep at some point during those three days.”

  “He sounds like a good friend.”

  “He is,” Greyston murmured. He’d always thought of himself as alone, but that wasn’t true. If he’d stopped to look, as he did now, he would have seen he was surrounded.

  “And did you do it?” Georgina asked. “Did you fly for three days straight?”

  He shook his head. “I came directly here, to Cragloden.”

  “To Lily.”

  “To finish what we’d both been roped into,” he corrected. Mostly for Lily, but for himself as well. “But the simulated co-pilot saved my neck today. Once I’d locked in to the Gossamer, I could leave the helm and make my way to the stern. At that speed, I knew if I lowered the platform from the hull, the hydraulic arms would rip loose. I’d ride the platform as it broke free and surf the waves below.” He gave a dry laugh. “It was a magnificent escape in my head, but obviously I didn’t quite pull it off.”

  Another bout of coughing racked through him and he bent over, a hand slammed to his chest. When it passed, he came up, reaching shakily for the glass of syrup water that seemed to ease his lungs.

  Georgina beat him to it, cupping his chin and pressing the rim of the glass to his lips.

  He sipped deeply before realising she played the damned nursemaid and he allowed it. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” he growled.

  “Not at all,” she said lightly.

  “Then I have a proper job for you.” He took the glass from her and drained the water. “It would seem that I’m in the market for a new airship.”

  TWENTY FIVE

  For every step forward, Greyston’s body relapsed one step back. One morning he flung the covers aside, determined to stand on his own two feet. His thighs shook, but he walked to the window and back. That night a fever put him into a delirious state that lasted well into the next day. But by the end of the second week of his incarceration, he was finally on the mend. He felt the shift in his bones, the restless energy that flowed through him from the moment he awoke.

  He climbed out of bed, made it all the way through his morning ablutions without having to pause once to catch his breath or steady the trembles.

  The door opened just as he put down his shaving blade.

  “You’re still here,” he said, his gaze sliding to Georgina as she entered with his breakfast tray.

  “Still here.” When she saw him dressed and clean-shaven, she glanced around the room. “Did I just miss Neco?”

  “No, he hasn’t been yet,” he murmured, his gaze absorbing every inch of knee-high boots, thigh-hugging breeches and breast-nipping cotton blouse, his body responding against his better judgement. The downside to being back on form. “I see you’re dressed for an adventure today.”

  She set the tray down and gave a little twirl to show off her outfit. “A victory gift from Evelyn. A set of breeches and boots arrived for both me and Lily, along with a note. The war may be over, but not the fun.”

  The mention of Evelyn led to thoughts of Harchings and stiffened his spine.

  “You know,” he drawled, “I do understand why you did it. When your husband died, Harchings was the one who travelled to Cairo and brought you back, back to life. You owed him a great debt.”

  The frivolity drained from Georgina’s mood

  “You have it wrong,” she said quietly. “I was already in service to Devon and the Crown. That’s how Henry and I met.”

  Surprise arched Greyston’s brow. “God, did Harchings pluck you straight from your debut ball?”

  “I wasn’t plucked, Grey, I enlisted and trained like everyone else. My uncle was a baron, his land a quarter mile from Harchings Castle.” She turned her back on him and crossed to the window. “Our families have always been acquainted and when Devon heard I’d joined the Queen’s Service, he invited me to take a position in his division.”

  “How very noble.” His jaw went rigid. “Tell me, how many other beautiful women did Harchings invite to whore themselves in the name of our Queen?”

  He didn’t recognise himself, this man who could be so cold and cruel, but he wouldn’t take the words back either.

  “I have no qualms about flirting for my country, Grey, but I draw the line at whoring.” Georgina spun about, her expression placid, no fire in her eyes. “Falling in… Falling into your bed was a mistake, not part of the mission. If Devon ever found out about us, he would have discharged me on the spot.”

  “Then maybe it’s time someone told him.”

  “You needn’t bother.” She shook her head with a small smile. “I’ve already discharged myself. I took a long, hard look at myself and didn’t like what I saw. So I decided to fix it.”

  His bitter laugh started a fit of coughing and he had to wait until his lungs were done before he could respond. “Too late.”

  “I don’t recall asking you to forgive me,” she said softly, coming forward. “You’re o
ver-exerting yourself, Grey. Why don’t you sit down for a moment?”

  He put a hand out behind, to steady himself on the basin stand. He wanted to stay mad, mad and bitter, but concern creased lines into the corners of her eyes and that left him feeling anything but. He was suddenly weary, and it had nothing to do with his health or physical well-being. “I’m fine, Georgina.”

  A wheeze disturbed the Aether, drawing both their gazes toward the window. Georgina turned and Greyston hurried over, unlatching the window so he could push it wide open and lean out.

  The sky was grim with pale grey clouds that had no purpose other than blotting the morning sun. The wheeze rumbled louder, closer…a candy-striped dirigible shaped like a bloated rat drifted into view. This was the third ship Georgina had scouted for him. He hadn’t managed much more than to drag himself to the window to watch the previous two fly overhead, but that was all he needed. Judging by the plumes of black smoke chugging from this one’s tail, it may well be the worst of the lot.

  “What did you do?” he muttered. “Throw a handful of flyers to the wind that read, ‘In desperate need of a dirigible. Only those on their last legs need apply.’”

  “Not at all,” she flipped back. “I put an advertisement in the Gazette. ‘In dire need of a thumping Aetherial ride. Will pay handsome coin for Scotland’s finest.’”

  “You didn’t,” he muttered. When it came to Georgina, one never knew.

  “Unfortunately, no. Lily helped me draft the advertisement. It was all very respectable and utterly boring.” She blew out a sigh. “I’ll go tell the poor Captain the bad news.”

  “Wait,” Greyston said, watching the ship carefully as it carved the Aether above the clearing at the top of the ridge. “I actually like the way this one cuts the sky. I think I’ll take her.”

  “Oh, Grey, she’s so…so ugly.”

  He shouted out a laugh and turned, resting his backside on the window ledge. “Ferdie will gut her and work his magic on the bare bones. You’ll change your mind when you…”

  He trailed off as he looked into her eyes, the words left unspoken in the air between them. They both knew she wouldn’t be around to see the finished airship. She’d never get that chance to change her mind.

  And right there, Greyston understood the cold, cruel man he hadn’t recognised in himself earlier. He didn’t want Georgina to leave. He didn’t want to run from this. He wanted them both to stay and fight.

  “You took the Red Hawk blue prints on that first visit, months ago,” he said. “You had no reason to come back.”

  Her lips furled at the edges. “I couldn’t stay away.”

  “And yet you didn’t stay.”

  “I should never have returned.” She stepped back, the warmth in her gaze fading to add another kind of distance. “I was already too wrapped up in you, but I knew what I was doing and I was prepared to take the gamble for a few more days with you. But that night…” Her hand lifted to him, then fell heavily to her side. “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with me. I never meant to be quite that selfish.”

  “You gave me fair warning and I refused to listen.” His arms shot out to snag her waist, tugging her forward, between his thighs, before she could think to resist. “Is that why you left the note? Why I found the safe hanging open?”

  “You needed to know.” She tilted her head to peer at him. “You needed to hate me before you fell too deep.”

  “Georgina…” His gaze slowly lowered to her mouth, to those sweet lips that were always so quick to smile her wicked thoughts. “I could never hate you. Don’t you know that?”

  Another tug pulled her flush against him and his mouth crushed hers in a hungry kiss, taking back everything he’d lost. He claimed her with possessive strokes, tasting every inch of her delicious mouth, falling deep enough for the both of them and then Georgina overcame her shock and she was kissing him back, her body softening into him.

  A knock at the door broke their lips apart.

  “Oh!” Lily gasped, stopping short on the threshold in a scramble to reverse direction.

  “No, it’s fine,” Greyston dragged through a heated breath, waving Lily inside while locking his other arm around Georgina’s waist before she could slip too far. “This is exactly the sort of thing that happens,” he murmured near her ear, “when everyone expects me to be too sick or too dead to answer the door.”

  His humour earned him an elbow in the ribs as she squirreled free from his side.

  “I was just about to tramp up the hill to see a man about a dirigible,” she told Lily in a breezy voice.

  Greyston grappled for her hand and caught a few fingers to link to him. “Wait a minute and I’ll walk with you.”

  “That’s what I came to say,” Lily said, her cheeks flushed a delicate pink as her gaze bounced from Georgina to him. “About the ship, I mean. I wasn’t sure if you were awake, or interested.”

  “He’s very awake and thoroughly interested,” Georgina declared, sending him a slow wink. “This one’s a keeper, apparently.”

  “Oh, really?” Lily sounded dubious.

  Maybe because she’d seen the ship, or maybe because she’d read between Georgina’s lines.

  Greyston gave a chuckle, which rumbled into a cough inside his chest. He pressed a fist to his mouth, shaking his head at Lily’s instant concern. “I’m fine, I swear.”

  “It’s certainly wonderful to see you up and about,” she said, her frown easing into a smile. “And before you go, I’ve more good news. Kelan’s just let me know, it’s time!” Her voice pitched in excitement as her smile broadened. “He intends to seal the Cairngorm Tear tomorrow morning.”

  Greyston’s blood turned to ice. There could be only one explanation for her uncontained joy. She didn’t know. When he’d rewound time to crash into the Gossamer, he’d also rewound everything Armand had told them and Kelan clearly hadn’t filled her in.

  “That’s marvellous!” Georgina rushed forward to throw her arms around Lily.

  “I can hardly believe it’s almost over.” As Lily pulled out of the hug to look at him, she noticed his lack of enthusiasm and set about reassuring him. “I haven’t seen a demon in days. We all agree the Cairngorm Cave was the blind spot in my demon glass, and Archibald and Liam have been camped there all week to ensure it’s clear as well.”

  “I get it, Lily. No more demons.” He squeezed the tips of Georgina’s fingers before releasing them. “Why don’t you go on ahead and bring the Captain down. Tell him I’ve seen all I need to see and I’m ready to negotiate.”

  Georgina rounded on him with a worried look, then turned that look on Lily and caught on that the sudden tension in the air had nothing to do with his health. Without another word, she shrugged her shoulders and left them to it.

  Her back pressed to the closed door, Lily gave a shaky laugh. “If this has anything to do with you and Georgina, you should know I’m delighted at your reconciliation.”

  “Do you know how the tear is to be sealed?” he said abruptly. Too abruptly, but dammit, Kelan should have said something.

  “Well, not exactly,” she hedged. “But I’ve seen the veil between our dimensions. It’s a mass of runes on the wall of the cave, all writhing into each other as if they were alive. So I imagine it will be done in the usual manner, by disrupting the flow of power to disable the runes.”

  “Has Kelan mentioned how he plans to disrupt this flow?” he pressed.

  “Why don’t you just tell me.” Lily folded her arms, her chin nudged high. “Clearly you know something I don’t.”

  “Lily, I don’t…” He felt the beginnings of another cough rattle in his chest. Or maybe it was despair. The echo of hopelessness slithering about. There was no gentle way to say this. “I think Kelan dies.”

  Her brow speared. “That’s preposterous.”

  “His death seals the tear. That’s what Armand said.”

  “Well, it makes no sense, no sense at all. How could his death deactivate the runes
?” She shook her head. “You must have misheard.”

  Greyston ran a hand through his hair, gripped halfway down the back. “I don’t know the details, Lily, but it has to do with Kelan being the McAllister heir.”

  “No…” Her mouth sagged, then firmed. “No, there has to be another way.”

  “There is,” he told her. “The demon Gorgon’s death will also seal the tear, but that is not within our control. If Kelan intends to do it tomorrow, then this much I do know. He intends to—”

  The door slamming behind Lily cut him off. She didn’t need to wait for him to finish.

  TWENTY SIX

  The walls pressed in as Lily ran down the stairs. Sound compressed, the soft soles of her slippers slapping the marble like the crack of rifle fire.

  All at once, the world was too small for her to fit. She couldn’t breathe. She raced across the foyer, fumbling with the latch on the French doors, banging on the glass, twisting, pushing…one of the doors flew open to expel her into the frosted morning air.

  She gulped in a lungful of biting cold as she stood there, looking out on the exquisite white-scrubbed courtyard. Fine-spun crystal fibres coated the gnarled trunk and each and every twiggy branch of the bared apple blossom tree. Nature’s beauty, not Agares’ wrath.

  Three perfect, demon-free days.

  Was that all the happiness that she and Kelan deserved?

  That’s more than some.

  No! There’d been enough death. Twenty-two on the battlefield, three of those McAllister guardians, the rest near the foot of the hill where Agares had blasted veins of ice.

  Lily closed her eyes, turning her face up to the sky.

  It was supposed to be over.

  We’re supposed to be done.

  Thoughts of Agares spilled into memories of these last three days.

  Kelan, surprising her with a picnic in the ballroom. He’d lit the giant hearth and spread out a blanket. He’d even rolled in an old gramophone. The soft strains of an orchestral overture washed over them as he made slow, scorching love to her before the fire.