Dark Kiss: A Reverse Harem Fairy Romance (The Twilight Court Book 12)

by Amy Sumida

  “Incoming,” a voice said through the two-way radio on the window sill.

  Nightblade picked up the radio to reply, “Everyone close in.”

  “Copy that.”

  We were cutting off their escape route as they entered. All of our people would follow Varcan in and flood the sixteenth floor. Between them and us, he wouldn't stand a chance. If we were able to subdue him before he pulled that ember disappearing act, that is.

  Then I felt them coming down the hallway. “He's got six guys with him. They're nearly here.”

  “That's fucking creepy, babe,” Killian said with a grin. “Creepy sexy.”

  The deadbolt rattled as Varcan unlocked it. He opened the door and stepped inside with a stack of pizza boxes in one hand and the keys in the other. Before he could do more than widen his eyes, Tiernan's shadow magic surrounded him, wrapping him as tightly as a madman in a straightjacket. The pizzas fell to the floor as Varcan snarled. He couldn't vanish when he was held like that, and his minions wouldn't leave him. Half of them roared and surged forward while the other half guarded Varcan's back.

  Sloane, Murdock, and Teagan swung their iron swords while Killian fought Florentine with his two swords swiveling like the blades of a Cuisinart. Nightblade manifested his mór—a slick, midnight sword that looked similar to the one I held. But he wasn't limited to one. Several gleaming black blades surged through the air at Varcan's minions. They stumbled and grunted as the blades pierced their bodies, but then began to steam. The nightblades slid free and fell to the floor, bursting into shadows.

  Meanwhile, Raza snarled his way forward, slashing at the minions who barred his way to Varcan. Sparks and flames flared with every strike of Raza's claws, but the fire didn't bother my dragon.

  “Blue! Gradh!” I shouted at the fairies; they both had ice magic.

  Eliane Blue swept out an arm and blasted one of the minions with shards of ice while Gradh leaned forward and blew frost over another. The minions trembled to a stop, steaming as their fire tried to melt the glacial attacks. The air went humid. Battle sounds came from the hallway where the rest of our group was fighting the other half of Varcan's escort, but thick steam blocked my view. Felix pelted them with hail, sending the third man to his knees as wind shrieked through the living room. God knows what the neighbors were thinking.

  Tiernan's shadows squeezed and tore at Varcan, but the blond alien didn't seem to be bothered by them. As I pushed past his minions and lifted my sword, Varcan grinned, and Tiernan's shadows expanded, lifting away from Varcan's body.

  “I can't reach him!” Daxon shouted. “He's got some kind of barrier in place.”

  The containment field, I thought just as I brought my sword down.

  Raza was right beside me, his claws a second behind my sword. As my sword rebounded, sending me stumbling, Raza's claws screeched over thin air. A pale, golden shimmer flared beneath our strikes, rippling out to briefly define a dome enclosing Varcan. As his minions realized they were outmatched, or at least outnumbered, more barriers popped into place around them. The minions got to their feet and glared at us while we ineffectively beat on the air around them.

  Tiernan's shadows faded away, and the rest of us went still, realizing we were at an impasse.

  “So, you found my stash of Gancanaghs,” Varcan noted as he strolled forward indolently. “Well done, Seren.”

  “I'm not working alone, Varcan,” I hissed his name. “What the fuck are you?”

  “Something you can't even conceive of. Or maybe you can, but you'll never believe it.” He grinned brilliantly, and his minions chuckled. Varcan looked around at all of us—fairies and humans alike—and his smile turned into a smirk. “You have no idea what you're up against. I'd tell you to give up and save yourselves the headaches if I thought you might listen. Alas, you're all so brave,” he sneered the last word. “And brave is just another word for a fool.”

  “So, you're a smart coward?” Raza growled. “Hiding behind your little bubble of magic. Pathetic. You truly thought you could win the love of my wife? With what?” He looked Varcan over scathingly. “You have no honor, strength, or beauty. Call us fools all you like, but Seren would never fall for a coward.”

  Varcan lost his grin, but not his cool. “I know what you're doing, Raza, and it won't work. You can't get me to drop my hakhil just because you call me chicken. You outnumber us, and I am not a fool.”

  Hakhil, there was that word again; it had to be the name of his little protection dome. But I was only half-listening to the conversation. As Raza and Varcan exchanged vicious words, I focused on Varcan. I could feel his barrier just as I could any other magic, and I knew I could break it like an enchantment. I concentrated, feeling it out, searching for its weakness, as violet light flowed from my fingers.

  “I will have her,” Varcan vowed. “None of you can stop me. I will have my queen.”

  Just as Varcan made his ridiculous vow, I shot forward and pressed my hand against his barrier—his hakhil. My magic seeped into it and the bubble burst. Varcan's eyes widened in horrified shock, the expression mirrored in the faces of his minions and in the other aliens who suddenly appeared, popping into existence around us.

  I looked up and locked gazes with Astar, standing just beyond Varcan's minions in the corridor. He was the only alien not horrified by what I'd done, only startled. But then Astar's surprise shifted to delight. With a wicked grin, he crossed his arms in an X formation over his chest, then brought them down sharply. Power pulsed from Astar and the barriers around Varcan's minions fell. Astar elbowed two of the minions in their faces at once, slamming his arms out to crunch bones and send blood flying. But he wasn't after them. Astar left the minions to stumble and fall as he shot forward, on a collision course with Varcan.

  “What have you done?” Varcan whispered to me just seconds before Astar collided with him.

  I had intended to strike Varcan down, but everything happened so fast—Astar and his team appearing and then attacking the minions. My team was too shocked to react at first and then didn't have the space to help. The fighting became so complicated that it was hard to tell who was on our side.

  Astar had Varcan on the ground, and I backed up, watching closely in case I got an opening. The men rolled, but they couldn't go far. They knocked into the feet of the others, grunting when they got kicked or stepped on. Astar's fingers sprouted claws, and he kept trying to sink them into Varcan, but Varcan blocked him expertly. Then Varcan pulled a dagger whose blade started to glow. Astar didn't look afraid of the dagger exactly, but he was definitely wary. And so was his entire team. They all jerked back as soon as Varcan revealed the shining knife. Finally, Varcan was able to dislodge Astar by using the dagger to blind him, and both men stumbled to their feet. I took the chance to swing my stolen sword at Varcan.

  Varcan spun toward me, dagger extending. He didn't realize it was me until the last second. I saw the moment it registered; his eyes went wide with fear and he tried to pull the blade back. But it was too late, we hit each other simultaneously, my sword slicing his arm as his dagger slashed my chest.

  “No!” Varcan shouted, completely disregarding his bleeding arm.

  I fell backward as fire burned through me. No, not fire, acid. Flames that weren't flames. I gasped for breath, the agony so overwhelming that I couldn't even scream. The dagger hadn't made it past my sternum—a minor wound as far as my fairy immortality was concerned—but instead of closing, it felt as if it were burrowing deeper. Someone caught me as the fighting paused around us. Minions began to vanish in clouds of smoke and embers. I stared up into Astar's grim face as he looked from me to Varcan, clearly torn.

  “Get him,” I whispered to Astar. “Leave me. I'll be fine; I'm fey.”

  “Fuck!” Astar growled with a furious shake of his head.

  “Heal her, Astaroth!” Varcan shouted furiously. “Don't you dare let her die!” Then Varcan was gone.

  “Fuck!” Astar growled again.

  The pain
lashed down my body. I began to tremble. Why wasn't I healing?

  “Let go of my wife,” Raza demanded in a deadly, low tone.

  “I'm sorry, Dragon King, but there is only one way to save her,” Astar announced as his grip on me tightened.

  “No!” I heard my husbands shout.

  Astar cradled me close as embers fell around us.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Astar and I reformed in a shadowy room. Firelight made patterns on the complicated coffered ceiling and reflected off the lacquered, blood-red walls. The furniture looked masculine, heavy, and comfortable. And old, very old. This place was a sanctuary for someone—warm, secure, and sensual. Astar carried me across carelessly placed carpets to a bed laid with velvet and fur. My breath went shallow, and the pain started to numb when he laid me down upon the bed. I had a feeling that wasn't good.

  “You're going to be okay, Seren,” Astar said gently. “Just focus on me.”

  I stared up at Astar as he leaned over me. The inner gold of his eyes was burning again, but his hand was cool and clawless when he set it on my sternum. He started chanting in a strange language and his palm warmed. I felt as if I was rising into his eyes, my soul hooked on his stare, but it wasn't my soul that left my body.

  I screamed as the burning started again, this time going in the opposite direction. Astar was drawing it out of me like snake venom from a wound. He didn't flinch or stutter as I screamed, just kept our gazes locked and his palm placed flat. I panted through the pain and pushed down the screams as I looked down at my chest. Black liquid was bubbling up from the wound beneath Astar's hand. As it hit his skin, it sizzled and smoked, evaporating.

  “What are you doing?!” a strident female voice came from my right.

  I couldn't look away from Astar, and he didn't look away from me, nor did he answer the woman. He kept chanting and the dark liquid kept flowing out of my body.

  “Stop, my lord!” A nut-brown hand went to Astar's shoulder. “You cannot! Don't you understand what you're doing?! It will be your death!”

  Astar shrugged her off just as the pain disappeared. I took a deep breath in relief, but said nothing. Because he wasn't finished. Astar's chanting shifted, the words sounding sweeter now. Tender. His gaze softened and the green around the gold in his eyes began to glow. The black liquid was gone but a green light replaced it. It sank into me, repairing damage that my fairy immortality couldn't. Damage that a dagger shouldn't have been able to do, even if it had made it past bone. But that hadn't been a normal dagger. The glow of that blade held magic, and that magic had seeped into me, tearing me apart at my very foundation. I don't know if it was destroying my DNA, bursting my cells, or perhaps consuming my magic. I just knew that dagger had damaged me deeply, but Astar's green light rebalanced me, setting everything back to rights. Then he drew his magic out, healing my physical wound as well.

  Astar stopped chanting at last and took a shaky breath. As he lifted his hand, I looked down and saw whole, healed skin through the tear in my sweater, then I looked up at Astar and blinked. Gaped. Suddenly, I could see him. I know that sounds stupid; I could see him before, of course. But this was a different type of seeing. I saw Astar with the clarity of familiarity. I could read every twitch on his face and every small movement of his body. I knew he was nervous, relieved, and just a little excited.

  I also knew exactly how to kill him.

  “Did you just save my life?” I whispered.

  “He did more than that,” the woman behind Astar growled.

  I looked over now that I could. She was curvy, beautiful, and had a thick braid of red hair draped over her shoulder. I recognized her; she was one of the aliens with Astar in the apartment. In fact, she was still in her black combat gear. Her golden eyes narrowed at me with menace.

  “Get out,” Astar said to her.

  “But, Star,” she whispered with hurt in her tone and her eyes.

  “Antaura, do not make me say it twice,” Astar's voice had taken on the tones of a king.

  Who the fuck was this guy? Where had he taken me? Was I on a spaceship?

  “My lord,” Antaura said with a hiss, bowed, and left.

  I sat up, my hand going to my chest. My sweater had a slash in it like something from the eighties. The edges of that slash were singed as well as stained with my blood, the damage ironically keeping it from fraying. Something shivered beneath my palm, an awareness unlike what I'd felt before. Stronger. Deeper. Truer. I sensed Astar's power but also a heavy weight of responsibility. If I hadn't already guessed it, I would have known it now; he was a leader. No, a ruler. And magical. So fucking magical. I could feel fire inside him, roiling with shadows and light.

  “What have you done?” I demanded.

  “It was the only way to save you,” Astar said as he stood. He clasped his hands behind his back and faced me steadily with a cool expression. “I couldn't let you die. You're beloved by the Twin Gods; your death could have had serious consequences.”

  “What are you saying?” I frowned. “What did you do to me?”

  “Varcan cut you with a cursed dagger. Only a Lord of Hell can survive its bite.”

  “Did you say Lord of Hell?” I gaped at him.

  “We are Demons, Seren.”

  Chapter Forty

  “Holy fuck,” I whispered.

  Demons. The fire magic, the strange names, the way they could twilight without limits. My mind raced, memories rushing forward to support Astar's declaration. I saw Drostan/Varcan smiling strangely after Killian had called Shahzy a demon. Varcan had said that calling demons the embodiment of evil was a little harsh. I remembered the way he snorted in amusement when Raza declared that Dragons were heroes while Demons were villains. Oh, sweet Goddess, Varcan had been giving us clues the entire time. Teasing us with the truth. Oh, my God, that fucking painting! He had rubbed my face in it at every opportunity and still, I was clueless. Something you can't conceive of, he'd said when I'd asked him what he was. And he was right; I never would have guessed Demons.

  I slid my legs over the side of the bed, feeling a little better with my feet on the ground. “You're a Demon?” I was proud of the calm tone of my voice.

  “I am Astaroth, Lord of Hell.” He inclined his head to me. “But as I've said before, you may call me Star.”

  “Like your girlfriend does?” I waved a hand after the woman—the Demon woman.

  Astar cocked a brow at me. “Yes, as Antaura does.”

  “You have a thing for red, huh?” I quipped as I glanced at the walls. I couldn't help it; jokes were a coping mechanism for me.

  Astar chuckled. “Yes, I like red. All the jewel tones are beautiful.” He glanced at my ombré stripe.

  “What's happening right now? Why do I feel as if I know you as well as one of my husbands?”

  Astar pressed his lips together before answering, “That feeling will fade. Quickly, I hope.”

  There was a tightness around his eyes that I read as discomfort and anxiety. He wasn't precisely scared, but he was nervous.

  “Well.” I blinked. “I don't know whether to be relieved or offended.”

  “I don't believe either one of us wants the complication that a continued bond would bring.”

  “Fair enough,” I conceded. “I just . . . I can . . . I feel like I know you. That sounds like a silly line you say to someone on a first date, but I mean it's the truth.”

  Astar stretched his neck, making it look refined, like an English lord dealing with an unfortunate incident. He waved a hand toward the fireplace where two chairs, draped in fur, waited. “Could we sit down and talk about this like civilized people, Seren?”

  “Sure.” I shrugged and went to the chairs. “Of course. A Demon Lord of Hell just saved my life and now he wants to have a civilized conversation in front of his cozy fireplace. In Hell.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are we in Hell?”

  “Yes. Technically, we are on Hell, not in it.” He waved again at the chairs. “Please, Seren. Hell i
s just another planet. Sit down, and I'll explain.”

  I sat with a sigh. “Oh, damn, I'm being an ungrateful bitch. I'm sorry. I'm just a little shocked.”

  Astar grinned and shook his head.

  “What?”

  He waved a hand at me as he sat. “You are just so fucking pure.”

  “There's that word again.” I scowled. “What does that mean? I mean, I know what it means, but what does it mean when you say it? Because I think your meaning differs greatly from mine.”

  “It means that you're special,” Astar said softly, his stare gliding over my face. “You're not innocent, but you're pure. You're noble, Seren.”

  “There are a lot of noble people, Star.”

  His lips twitched, and it took me a second to figure out that it was because I had used his nickname.