Darkness Within

by Carli Castle

  Then, a few years later, King Patrick had chosen him to offer the post as president of the council. He would never forget that day, because he had actually thought King Patrick was playing a joke on him. But it hadn’t been a joke, and here he was, serving as president under the best king Esmeralda had seen in a long time. They placed a lot of faith in him and his abilities, and he had done well up until now. At least King Patrick seemed to.

  And how had Caleb paid the man?

  The only way he could. He’d dishonored him by getting hot and heavy with his oldest daughter, which not only was against Esmeralda law, but it was a betrayal to the man who’d first given him a glimpse of who he could become.

  As a father, he would be absolutely outraged if he knew what his daughter was doing afterhours with a worker in the council. Because that’s what Caleb was, a worker. Someone with blood as opposite to royal as it got, despite his important position.

  Feeling gloomy—something he had not felt in a long time—he lifted his hand toward the knocker, which made noise deep inside the palace walls.

  Some days were harder than others, and since yesterday’s incident, he felt today was the worst yet. He thought, however, that he was fortunate to have so many supportive people in his life, despite not knowing where he came from.

  The heavy door opened and Stanislaus stood aside to let him inside. Caleb nodded to the stiff man and even managed a smile.

  “Stanny,” he said, watching the old man closely. He still reacted in a way that was just a bit funny to Caleb, but he thought maybe Stanislaus was getting so used to the teasing that it didn’t really bother him anymore.

  “Stanislaus, President Sillen,” Stanislaus sighed, as if he had given up on Caleb ever calling him by his actual name.

  “Stanislaus is such a mouthful. Can’t we just agree with me calling you Stanny? I won’t tell anyone else.”

  “My name is not Stanny. How about I start calling you Cal? Would you like that?”

  “Cal?”

  “It’s my nickname to you. I won’t tell anyone else about it. Our secret.”

  “Touché, old man. Touché.” Caleb had to chuckle. “Look, how about I promise to do my best to call you by that long name of yours?”

  “I’ve heard that before; excuse me if I don’t believe you.”

  “This time I really will try, Stanislaus,” Caleb said, then smiled. “See, I started already.”

  “Let’s see how long that will last,” Stanislaus said as he walked ahead of him toward King Patrick’s study. “I will let King Patrick know you’re here.”

  “Thank you,” Caleb said and entered the office, closing the door quietly behind him. He walked toward one of the big windows and looked out. It was becoming overcast. He liked rainy weather—the smells, the sounds, the look of everything after a good storm.

  His mind went back to Lana Juren and the questions that had come up because of her death.

  He rubbed his hand over his face.

  He believed it was the work of someone a lot darker than just a mere criminal, but he couldn’t say anything about it without any proof. The way she’d been killed was too macabre, because it was known Esmeraldans had their power in their hearts. It spread from there, grew there, so the fact that she’d been found without hers meant someone out there had her powers. Then there was the fact her soul hadn’t come forward to tell them who’d done it. It had never happened before, and it really made Caleb nervous.

  Hopefully, King Patrick had an idea about it. He took a deep, calming breath that came out in a rush when he realized he wasn’t alone in the room.

  Harper was sitting on a high-back chair, her nose stuck in a book so big she shouldn’t have been able to hold it up with such ease. She was wearing a cream colored dress with buttons all down the front. Her legs were crossed, and one of her shoes was on the floor. He imagined it slipped off when she got distracted with the book.

  Her hair, all that shiny, glorious brown hair of hers, was held away from her face at the nape of her neck. How many times had he pulled it free of its clasp, buried his face into it as he felt like he could spend the rest of his life lying next to her and not need anything else.

  It had all started suddenly between them. He had not been pursuing it, and neither had she, it just happened. One day she was visiting his office for some official business, and they’d ended up kissing. He couldn’t even remember who had kissed whom, he just remembered wanting that kiss more than anything. She was beautiful and smart, and he had always enjoyed her company. She was very shy, but she had always been able to talk to him freely, which he liked and took tremendous pride in. Soon, they had been entangled in a secret affair. Some nights she would come to his house, and some nights he would come to her and climb up to her balcony, like some tragic hero.

  It was all supposed to be casual, and he hadn’t realized just how attached to her he had become, until she suddenly broke it off a couple weeks before. He’d thought they were having a great time, but she’d just said she needed time apart.

  They had to keep appearances at the council, because the last thing they wanted was for people to find out, but sometimes it was hard for him to come to terms with it. She seemed fine, but he would never really know how fine she was, because he had never met anyone harder to read than her.

  She looked up from her book, as if she’d read his thoughts, and something in his gut tightened. Heavens, she was beautiful.

  She closed the book and stood. He found himself walking to her, already telling himself he was making a mistake, that he was in the King’s study and he could walk in at any moment. He couldn’t be close to her, because her scent was too intoxicating to his senses. He would grab her, and he would kiss her, and then he would have to work from the start to forget just how good it had been between them.

  “I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, hugging the book to her chest.

  He made a fist behind his back, his nails biting into his skin to avoid touching her.

  “You were immersed in your book,” he said, trying hard to push down that feeling that came over him when he saw her, that raw need deep in his gut. Long ago, he’d realized he could really fall for her, but they were casual enough that they never talked about taking the next step and letting things happen. Also, what was he going to do with that kind of affection? It’s not like anything could happen between them more than their late night encounters.

  It would be so easy to find himself someone who was completely available, because Harper Dahl was not available, at least emotionally. There was a barrier there, like she had erected a wall around her heart, and nothing could chip through it.

  “I needed to talk to your father, Your Highness,” he said, trying to rile her. He knew she hated nothing more than when he called her by her title. It was too formal, she’d told him on one occasion, and they were far past the formalities of it.

  He was sorely disappointed, because there was not even a flinch, no response from her, no reaction. Nothing like at the council meeting room when she’d blushed and he’d wanted to carry her to a cave like some Neanderthal and do things he wasn’t supposed to do anymore.

  There was rarely any reaction from her. Displays of emotion weren’t for princesses, and she had been taught that from an extremely young age. Maybe that was part of the problem.

  “Caleb, please, don’t call me that,” she said quietly, gripping the giant book more tightly against her chest. “I think we’re far past the formal names and titles.”

  “I think we reverted to that when you broke things off,” he told her, watching her closely.

  “You know it was not smart to do what we were doing. Sooner or later someone would find out and you would get in trouble. That is the last thing I want for you.”

  “I can take care of myself, Princess.”

  “Yes, I know you can, but I still don’t want to cause you harm in any way. One friend to another.”

  “Is that what we are? Friends?” He suppresse
d a bark of a laugh. “I am pretty sure you don’t do the kinds of things we did with friends, or do you?”

  “Of course not!” She sounded so indignant he smiled in triumph and put his knuckle against her cheek.

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he said, and she smiled a little this time.

  “I know you couldn’t.”

  He walked closer to her and his insides boiled when she didn’t step away from him.

  “This is not wise, my father will be here any minute,” she whispered, but didn’t move back.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to ravish you on his desk,” he said and was charmed by her blush. They had discussed getting busy on her father’s desk, but she’d been too afraid, and he respected King Patrick at least that much. He would have never been able to look him in the eye again, or be in this office without burning up.

  She turned away from him then, her face still burning, and he smiled more widely.

  “I was not aware you came here to try and seduce me.”

  “Not at all, actually, this is all just a very pleasant side effect of my visit,” he informed her.

  When she turned to him her face was almost back to its normal creamy color, except for her cheeks, which were still pink.

  “Are you here to talk to father about Mr. Anderson’s suggestion at the meeting?”

  “Yes, I am,” Caleb said. “Daniel’s idea seems too crazy to be true, but nothing can be discarded at this point.”

  “You’re right,” she murmured. “Do you believe it could be what he said?”

  “Do you?”

  “You heard what I said at the meeting. I stand by it, despite some of those men thinking I’m crazy,” she admitted.

  He nodded. “I just wish Lana Juren would come back and tell us what happened. None of this makes any sense.”

  She nodded and they were silent for a few beats.

  “Is it okay if I ask you a favor?” She looked a little uncertain as she brought the book in between them.

  “Of course,” he said, curious.

  She gestured at the book, which was leather bound, and had what looked like a million pages.

  “I was trying to find some information on the witch goddesses, but I’m not a very fast reader. Would you mind?”

  He studied her face for a moment. Her skin was clear and soft, so incredibly smooth. He remembered times when that skin had been flushed, shining with sweat after… he stopped himself before the memories started getting out of control. Even to himself he sounded like some sex-crazed maniac.

  “Sure,” he muttered and took the book from her, careful not to touch her hands in the process. He then let the book float in front of him, just about waist level. He brought his hands over it, hovering right above it. They didn’t look any different than other hands, and they definitely didn’t look like they could do what they were about to do. The cover flew open when he closed his eyes, letting every word in the book run over him, over his mind, learning everything that it said. It was almost as if he could hear the words in his mind. When he was done, he opened his eyes and grasped the book, handing it back to her.

  “Well?” She looked expectant.

  “There’s only one small paragraph and it doesn’t detail the story,” he told her and watched her face fall in disappointment.

  “Thank you for your help.”

  “You’re welcome.” His voice had turned husky, so he cleared his throat. She was still very close, so close he got a whiff of her scent, something floral and light.

  “I should go,” she whispered but stayed put.

  He didn’t know who moved first, but next thing, she was in his arms, and their mouths were fused together. The book had fallen right on his foot, but he didn’t even register pain, because all his attention was on Harper, and her body pressed to his. His hands gripped at the back of her clothes, wanting desperately to rip them off her and make reality of the talks they’d had. To lift her onto the desk and… she stepped back.

  “We can’t, Caleb.” Her breathing was as labored as his, and though he wanted to, he didn’t touch her again. He wiped his face of her lip gloss, which tasted like cherries.

  “I know, you said that already, I’m sorry,” he said, trying to calm his breath.

  “It wasn’t entirely your fault,” she said. “I wanted it just as much.”

  “Then, why are you doing this,” he asked her, taking her shoulders in his hands, gripping just a little too tightly, a flash of anger running through him.

  “You know why, Caleb, I don’t want to have to go over this again and again.” She closed her eyes and put her hands on his face. “Please, don’t ask me again.”

  He sighed, letting go of her shoulders, and went to pick up the book when the door opened and King Patrick walked into the study. Harper’s eyes opened wide for a split second before she completely shuttered her expression and took the book from him.

  “Excuse the delay, Caleb,” King Patrick said then threw his daughter a look. “I didn’t know you were home already.”

  “I got back from the council a little while ago and wanted to do some reading,” she told her father, lifting the book slightly. “I was just leaving. Thank you, President Sillen, I will see you at our next meeting,” she added without looking at him straight on, and hurried out. He avoided looking at her back as it retreated and disappeared through the door.

  “Take a seat,” King Patrick told him and sat behind his desk.

  “Thank you, sir.” He tried to get his galloping heart to calm down. King Patrick seemed completely oblivious of what had just transpired in his office, and that helped him a little. It still didn’t take away the frustration.

  “Tell me what’s bothering you, son,” the king said, crossing his hands over the desk.

  “Today, during out meeting, Daniel Anderson made the suggestion that Shadows could have been responsible for Lana Juren’s death yesterday,” Caleb said, and a line appeared between King Patrick’s brows.

  “Why would he suggest something like that?”

  “When I disclosed the cause of death it only made sense to a couple of the council members.” He didn’t mention one of those was his own daughter. “A couple others were not so keen to believe it, and others were even angry at the mere idea.”

  “I assume the angry ones were Aali and Prince Noren,” King Patrick said and Caleb almost laughed.

  “Yes, indeed.”

  “It is rather interesting Daniel would jump to that kind of conclusion, don’t you think?” King Patrick looked at him straight on.

  “Because her heart was missing from her chest, some thought it could have been.”

  “Yes, but how does that tie to her soul not returning? There is nothing in the literature that states something like that was even possible.”

  “That’s what baffles me the most,” Caleb said. “I don’t know why she has stayed away.”

  “Then, it’s about time we had a conversation with a few people. Maybe dust out the old books and try to make sense of it all.”

  “I know, that was my next step, compile as much information as possible and go from there.”

  “Excellent. That is all we can really manage for now.” King Patrick stood. “For the time being, talk to no one else about Daniel’s idea. The less people know, the unlikelier it will get out and panic the citizens.”

  “Yes, Highness.”

  As he walked outside to teleport home, he looked up at Harper’s balcony. She wasn’t out there, but her curtains were open. He had the urge to climb up and finish what they had started, but she had been clear. She’d said she wanted nothing with him anymore, and he couldn’t very well make her.

  So he continued his walk to the fence, and without looking back, he went home.

  Chapter Six

  Lucas had spent the entire weekend reading anything he could get his hands on to learn more about shadows, just in case. He hadn’t found much, or at least nothing he didn’t already know. Kind of.
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  He’d even spent many hours at the local public library and had found nothing more significant than what he already had at home, which was a glossing over the legend, never really expanding on anything and giving new information.

  He was regretting not paying more attention to the whole thing while in school.

  It was mildly annoying that all the work he’d put on finding information had given him nothing more than frustration. He didn’t like getting frustrated, because when he did, his crazy powers, especially his fire power, took over his life. That was why he tried to live a more relaxed life. It was a matter of survival, a matter of not landing in prison for killing someone without even meaning to.

  When he got to the council, Callie was busy dealing with the various animals delivering mail. She looked up, gave him a half smile when he greeted her, and went right back to sending the animals off.

  He felt horribly for what he and Caleb had done. Caleb for being a jerk, and him for not having the guts to turn her down like a real man. Maybe someday he’d get the courage to actually look her in the eye again.

  The day went by with him resorting to answering every citizen letter with a generic one of his own. Most people were concerned about the safety of Esmeralda, others were angry, and some plain curious.

  Once the time came, he walked over to Caleb’s office, knocked once, and opened the door slowly, just in case he was in another meeting. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t be in a meeting so late in the day, but with the current situation, impromptu meetings could happen at any time. Also, Lucas was not in the mood to fight with Althea, if what they did could be even called fighting. Most of the time she just glared at him and he pretended she wasn’t there.

  “Coast clear,” he asked when he poked his head through the door.

  Caleb looked up from the book in front of him on the desk. It was a shock, because Caleb really disliked reading, and doubly so, because he was reading like a normal human instead of with his power. It wasn’t something that happened often.