As usual, the shimmering stars blinked down at her a million miles away, taunting her. Sighing, Emory opened the door and got comfortable. Throwing her bag onto the passenger seat, she had the inclination to pound her forehead against the steering wheel. She decided to start the car and make her way home instead, her mind throbbing painfully with knowing exactly what Moore would say.
She started the engine of her Honda, pulling out of the parking lot. Picking up speed, she turned onto the street and raced beneath the streetlights, the city that was so much like a cage flying past. But like most things in her life, she had grown accustomed to it.
***
“Oh, come on!” Emory seethed, her keys stubbornly sticking in the lock.
She wrenched them to the right, and the doorknob eased underneath her grip and swung open. The low lighting from the lamp had been left on, casting her apartment in its warm glow. She smiled, throwing her coat and bag on the well-loved couch, the grandfather clock ticking soothingly amongst her stuffed bookcases. Her phone buzzed distantly, but ignoring it, she walked down the hallway, kicking off her shoes and letting her hair down in one motion.
As the night grew longer, thunder rumbled in the distance, the promise of summer storms lingering in the air.
Her phone buzzed again in the living room, and she knew Moore had been waiting up. Her friend would have to wait until the morning.
Shimmying out of her jeans, she put on a worn baggy t-shirt and flicked off the lights. Outside her window, lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating disjointed shadows and structures before plunging them back into darkness. She flopped on her bed, her blankets molding around her body. Groaning, she soaked it in.
Having her freedom for the last three years had been pure bliss. This was all she ever wanted. No more pushing from Lourie, no more families looking to adopt her, no more of anyone shaping her into someone she didn’t want to be.
She knew she came from somewhere, where people knew her, her past, her family. And until she figured out what had happened, she would dictate her future. It was no one else’s decision.
The rain began to fall, and it lulled her into oblivion.
***
Like usual, she dreamt of the forest. The lush canopy of leaves, the world around her blooming with life, and, of course, the alluring secrets hidden in its heart. Her face broke into a wolfish grin as she whispered into the air, “Are you here?”
The wind tousled her hair, the towering trees filtering a soft light, and she stepped forward, abandoning all rational thoughts, all aspects of reality, waiting to hear his voice. A voice that was the warm brush of calm, of reassurance, of home. At first, as a teenager, she thought of him as her guardian. A spirit amongst the living, only meeting in her dreams. It was a delusion, yet very much a reality to her.
The first time, she had woken shaken, the world was churning. Emory had thought she would never see these woods and him again.
The second time, she wished to never wake up. It was an intoxication, an addiction of being high and far away from her reality, and she desired it. Needed it.
But as the days blurred to months, the months to years, he had never left her and had always called her back. Back to the earthy reprieve—and to him. It was here, she felt safe. It was here, where fantasy took over.
“Emory.”
Shivers ran up her spine, curdling her nerves into mush. Exhaling, she turned slowly and took him in. They had to be around the same age, his long blonde hair tied back, his strong angular face hiding secrets and temptations tucked within the corners of his mouth. Her gaze roamed, uncontrolled and blatant, working from his jawline to the crook of his shoulder. His loose shirt clinging to the edges and valleys of his muscles. He radiated, and it was all for her.
“Emory.”
He strode toward her—everything else faded away. Dream, reality, she didn’t care about the definition. Her feet carried her, not faltering as she closed the space between them. His strong hands cupped her face gently, securely, the warmth from his fingertips flushing her skin. Resting his forehead against hers, she closed her eyelids, breathing in the scent of fresh rain and mint.
“Em.”
No, don’t say it. Please. Do not say it.
“He is coming for me. For us both.”
Eye lids fluttering open, Emory took in his ice blue eyes. A snap of a twig sliced through the woods, and a nervous tittering rippled around them. He froze, and she could practically taste the tension rolling off him.
“Memphis,” Emory whispered.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
She was thrown backward, and the world was devoured in flame. The fire towered above her, eating away at the trees, the lush leaves. She could taste the ash, clogging her throat, blinding her, tickling her skin like she was standing in the eye of the storm.
Rolling, she tried to stand, to scream, to escape the turned nightmare. Golden eyes flashed through the haze.
“Run.”
Memphis’s voice hooked into her mind, her heart, the very marrow of her bones. Teeth flashed as his screams grew desperate and terrified around her.
“Em, run!”
She wheezed through the smoke, her lungs searing, her vision spinning. The ground shook behind her, and she pumped her arms faster. She flung herself forward until gravity left her. Her teeth sank into embers and dirt. Spitting and coughing, her flesh burned, but she tried to stand, to keep going. Sharp claws ripped through her pants, shredding skin and muscle. Bile clawed up her throat, as she was dragged backward, screaming.
Being flipped on her back, she expected to see a monster. Instead, a man smiled down, and the flames crackled hungrily around them, the scenes dancing in her eyes.
His golden eyes narrowed, and he leaned in closer, like a lover’s embrace. He whispered, “Emory.” From his knuckles, smooth inky talons ripped free. They stroked her legs and sides, trailing along her shoulders. “Come back to me.”
Her scream lodged in her throat, as the man’s hand shifted to a giant paw before her eyes. Locking her eyes with golden ones, a wolf hovered over her now, thick golden fur shimmering like molten. Growling, its muzzle pulled back revealing glistening teeth. Snapping its teeth, Emory screamed as the world tipped and disappeared.
***
Her body was soaked in sweat, and her skin prickled as she tried to still her racing heart. Her room took shape under the blanket of the night, thunder rolling ominously. Her tongue felt thick and swollen, as she got her bearings. Her legs were tangled in her comforter, her hair sticky and slick.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Looking to the walls surrounding her, lightning flashed, illuminating everything before plunging them again in the darkness. Her pile of laundry, assortment of books, her mish-mashed dresser. No trees. No thicket of woods. No two men. One, a mystery, a gravitating lull that pulled at her. The other, a killer. A monster.
She shuddered, frowning as she pulled her sheets closer around her. It was just a dream. One she had in variations since she was a teenager. Always ending the same. Always in blood. In fire and ash.
Groaning, she pulled the sheets over her head, lying back down. Thunder rolled, growing in tempo, and Emory squeezed her eyes shut, hoping she could get more sleep, and thanking the forces in the universe that she was off tomorrow. She drifted, piercing eyes and soft murmurs chasing at her heels, trying to lead her back, and she allowed them to.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Memphis
Six Years Prior
Memphis just stared at the empty space where both of his best friends had been. The snow, the ice, and the howls seemed a world away as his hands trembled and tears streaked down his skin. The shock of what Memphis had done pierced through his heart. He had wiped Emory’s memory; he had felt her entire sense of self disappear. Pacing, bile seared his throat, and the aches in his bones and bruised and bloodied skin roared in pain, but he couldn’t stand still.
What had he done?
Mind reeling, t
he air around him churned, as if being sucked in on itself, only to expand, blasting energy backward, as Brokk reappeared, swaying.
Memphis surged, spittle flying from his mouth as he demanded answers. “Is she safe? Brokk?!”
“She’s safe.” He looked down at his shaking hands.
Memphis swore, looking at Brokk as he swayed, and relief flooded through him. He closed the space in between them in two seconds, his muscles constricting as his fist flew, cracking against Brokk’s jaw and snapping it backward. Blood stained the white snow, and Brokk swore, swiveling back toward him. Ebony claws sprouted from his knuckles.
“This is really a priority right now?”
Memphis was unhinged, and his voice rose serval octaves, “How long?”
“How long what?”
“Have you been lying to me?”
Spitting on the ground, Brokk jabbed his half-formed claws into Memphis’s chest. “Memphis, how do I explain something I don’t understand? That I never wanted? How can I tell you about a part of myself that I fear most above anything? I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to admit it to myself.”
“That’s not answering the question.” Memphis’s voice was a whisper, and Brokk growled. Memphis knew they had to go now, but the world had stilled, and it was just them. Just this.
Brokk was shaking. “Our world is falling apart. Adair is waging war. Emory is on a different planet, and all you care about is that I haven’t been telling you one secret? One?”
Memphis snapped, “Yes, I do care because we have always been able to trust each other. But everything is a lie. Emory knew. Why didn’t you think to tell me? And now she won’t know anything, thanks to me. Not you. Not this world. Not me.”
“Emory found out by chance, Memphis. I never wanted her to know. Never.”
The words hung between them, as their silent argument did before. Memphis was reluctant but knew Brokk was right. He normally was.
“She can’t live a life that is always torn in two. She would never move on, never fully experience what that life would offer her. Is that what you want?” Brokk asked.
“I want her to be here. I want us to be together,” Memphis said.
Brokk stalked up to him, spitting in his face. “What, so she can die? Stop whining and look at the reality. Adair can hunt her down, manipulate her, and use her like he did with Roque and Nei.”
Brokk shoved his chest hard, and Memphis said, “Get away from me, now.”
“No, for once, here’s the ugly truth, Memphis. She didn’t feel the same way that you do. Your image of your relationship and life together will never be what she wants. As one of her best friends, trust me, I know. She had a crush on you, and you have been in love with her for years.”
Both of their chests were heaving, Memphis’s ability churning with his anger. He was ready to tear through and obliterate something when the pieces became blaringly clear. How many times had Brokk used this powerful ability? Did Memphis even truly know his best friend?
“Get away from me. You have been controlling this situation all along. Have been controlling her all along. Me too.”
Brokk scoffed. “You’ve got to be joking, right? Memphis, no.” He shook his head, stepping closer.
“Get away from me.”
The ground shuddered beneath their feet, their impending doom clawing closer. Memphis stared at the sky, ashes floating and cascading down at them, overtaking and blotting out any color that lingered there. Looking past Brokk, the first line of dabarnes roared toward them, their festering skin and bloodied teeth coming into focus.
Fear curled into Memphis’s heart—all along he thought he could be a savior of the Academy. Now, there was no guarantee that he would ever see Emory again, or that they would survive this day.
Shifting his weight, he turned, his decision steeling in his heart.
Something heavy slammed into his temple, and the world spun into a giant mass. He saw Brokk’s face, his eyebrows knitting together as he whispered, “Hold on. Please.”
Memphis dropped, his body colliding with ice, and he was plunged into oblivion.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Adair
Landing on the ground in a plume of smoke, Adair’s fingers dug into the dirt, as the sun broke over the horizon. The smoke settled, curling around his feet in black and purple hues. The brisk morning air collected dew, and as he rose, small puffs of mist flared in front of him.
“My King?”
The dabarne’s voice brushed up against his mind, and the creature prowled to his side when he stood. It was a question and a recognition, and Adair bared his teeth as he fixated on the city in front of them. They had traveled through the night, groups of his army breaking off, Adair feeling the shifts of energy like stars streaking across constellations, creating a beautiful serenade of screams that followed him from below.
His fire. His carnage.
He rolled his neck slowly, bones cracking. Sarthaven and his father waited for him down below.
A distant thought tugged at his mind. Once, a lifetime ago, this city had been his lifeline, his hope to explore and to create. Swallowing hard, the thought dissipated, as another thought filled his mind, the magic ripping through his bloodstream, building and building.
“I go in first, alone. Cesan is mine.”
Approving roars and cackles rippled behind him as he unsheathed the Curse, his reflection shimmering in the steel, distorted by blood.
Looking up, he stalked toward the city that once was said to bustle with life, flourish with culture. It was the heart of their country, where trading routes were established with the Shattered Isles, where the first King of Kiero sat on his throne, where the monarchy was built and then destroyed.
Now, red and black smears stained the ivory towers. Adair shivered, clenching his blade tighter as the first wall of magic hit him like a breaking wave against a rock.
Smoke curled, floating above the streets, and he could hear the distant cries, the shuddering roars.
So, not all the dabarnes came to the Academy.
His footfalls were soft against the dirt, the late summer air humid, making his clothes stick. The homes and towers curled up in the sky, and as he drew closer, the true might of the city unfurled around him. Excitement surged through him when he approached the blackened gates, the curled metal creating beautiful designs reflecting a night sky.
The tang of magic intensified, as a guttural growl sounded behind the gates when they slowly opened. “And who are you?” a voice asked.
Slow steps sounded, and the owner of the voice came into view. Adair stood still, raising his eyebrow in cool composure. Inside, he blanched, ripping against his confines, sickened yet unable to watch, unable to do anything.
It resembled a human, but its grey skin was now decaying. Its blackened eyes took him in, the bone structure poking violently out from its skin, no muscle mass holding anything strongly. Its hair hung limply, leeched of any color, and the color was the same as bone.
Adair didn’t answer, and the creature shuffled toward him, sniffing, tilting its head. Its voice turned grating, “Once, I dreamed of being like you. Like him...” It motioned to behind at the city. “Born into a world with no ability, no power, no status, watching the world thrive with magic. And all my life, I could do nothing.” It smiled, which was more like a grimace, showing a mouth empty of teeth. “Until now.”
It bowed its back, this creature that once had been a desolate, screaming shrilly as spittle flew from its mouth, and it charged toward him. The magic rippled out, the creature thinking it was powerful, that it was enough to destroy him.
Adair stood, chest heaving. A fire burned through his veins, consuming him. His anger, his lust, exploded through him, fusing with his magic, as Adair smiled darkly.
The creature was maybe a few paces from him, its eyes bulging, completely overtaken by the madness of the magic raking through it, feeding on it.
It leapt through the air, and he ducked.
Slicing up, the blade cut through flesh, and the body hit the ground with a heavy thud. Panting, Adair bowed, not caring that he had been showered with blood, placing his hand on the ground, and the earth quaked. The dark magic flowed down his arms, pooling into his palms. Dropping to connect his hands to the earth, the ground shuddered as it caved in, splintering toward the city.
Adair was running, following his magic. The buildings around him shuddered, and his magic flared as every single standing architecture cracked, blackness running through them like a spider web.
He stopped; his shield surrounded him as the city crumbled down around him. Screams were crushed, roars silenced, and the world was one of dust and bone.
The dust settled in the rubble, and Adair flicked his shield down and then began running again. The streets were winding, the once bustling roads deserted, the gore of war staining Sarthaven. Pumping his arms harder, Adair flew deeper into the city, knowing his father would be waiting for him. Or at least he certainly hoped.
Adair raced, gritting his teeth, pushing harder, leaping over rubble. Both his ability and the dark magic worked together in unison. The magic cleared his path, burning and destroying, all the while he could feel his ability webbing out in the city, searching for his father. He would not hesitate ever again to take over Cesan’s body.
His surroundings were a blur, and he was vaguely aware as he turned, a clear view of the Draken Mountains stretched up to the sky, and in the middle of the courtyard was Cesan. Adair saw Cesan’s eyes flick up toward him before all the cement rubble rose and shot at his father under Adair’s command.
Snarling, Cesan flicked his hand, the rubble turning to dust before his eyes, skittering around him. “You’re not the only one who has learned new tricks, son.”
The ground quaked, and Cesan grinned, his cloak floating around him. Resting above his brow was an inky black crown, the base made up of bones, the spires jagged. Huge vines shot through the ground, racing up to ensnare Adair, but he cackled, fire exploding from him with such force, Cesan staggered back. A wall of green flames circled Cesan, and for a second, he was entranced by the inferno. A second was all Adair ever needed.
Heir of Lies (Black Dawn Series Book 1) Page 24
