Veil of Thorns

by Gwen Mitchell

  That much was true, then. Lucas narrowed his eyes. “What was it?”

  Ryder ruffled his hair. “Since it went after you and not her, I would wager on a trap set for curious Kinde. They alone pose a threat to Hedvika. Hence why I wanted you along.”

  Lucas’s fists flexed reflexively. “You said nothing of any such trap.”

  “I did not sense it, or I would have.”

  “Then what good are you?” Lucas snarled.

  “To you? Not much. But to Briana, I am her lover’s salvation.”

  Lucas held back a growl. He was not going to take the wraith’s bait. He leveled a piercing gaze at Ryder. “Tell me why you want her dead.”

  Ryder leaned against the opposite wall and lit a cigarette, looking bored. “Or else?”

  “Or else I will take Bri away from this place right now, and you can whither to a scrap of shadow, or beg leniency from the Synod. I don’t care which.”

  A few tiny stars winked in the wraith’s obsidian gaze.

  Lucas smiled to himself, anticipating finally turning the game in his favor. “And I’ll have something else from you before I leave this cave, or all our prior negotiations are void.”

  “What else could you possibly want? Besides a peek at all of my cards?”

  “I want your true name.”

  Ryder recoiled and practically hissed, “How dare you—”

  Lucas held up his hand. “For Briana. If ever I am not…if ever she is in need and I cannot get to her, she must be able to summon you.”

  Cold anger flattened the lines of Ryder’s mouth. “How do you know of such things?”

  “You’re not the only one who deals in secrets.”

  In his early years of service to the Synod, Lucas had once hunted a rogue Hohlwen for a councilor whose son had been led astray by the immortal. He had earned a reputation for doing certain types of discreet favors for those in power in exchange for access to information he thought would lead him to his mate. But he hadn’t collected payment that time. When he’d found the runaway couple, he’d stayed his blade in exchange for the other immortals most guarded secret. He had learned that each wraith had a hidden name that worked like a magical password to call upon them. He had kept his word and let the lovers go.

  Ryder sank half into shadow, only the sparkling stars and his white teeth showing. “I should drop you into a volcano for what you know. But I need you alive.”

  For now went unspoken.

  He solidified, flicked his cigarette over his shoulder, and straightened to his full height. Gone was the sarcastic flirt. Now he stared down his blade-sharp nose at Lucas with the air of the obscenely old, calculating immortal being that he was. His eyes became the fathomless emptiness of the Void. “What do you offer in exchange for my name, demon?”

  Lucas had been prepared for this. “Besides the means to your survival and helping you kill the witch?”

  Ryder’s gaze sharpened. “Killing Maxxim was part of our original deal. You are upping the stakes. I have grounds to want more.”

  Lucas’s ears picked up Bri calling his name. Instincts inside of him leapt to attention, and it took an effort to keep from running to her immediately, but she didn’t sound distressed. He would be back with her soon. He was anxious to see her awake, to talk to her. It felt like it had been an age since he’d last gazed into her eyes.

  “I will swear with blood magic that in exchange for your name, I will not hinder you anymore from feeding from Briana when you need to.”

  “I accept those terms. But there is no need to spill any blood.” Ryder slid closer on a wave of shadow, a feral smile twisting his mouth. Bri called out again, more urgent, but either Ryder didn’t hear or didn’t care. He was too intent on coiling Lucas up in a cocoon of silken darkness.

  “What are you doing?”

  Stars popped in the dark pits of his eyes, beckoning. “The bargain is struck with lips and breath, it must be sealed with the same.”

  Lucas flinched and backed away. “I told you, I do not ask for myself. And there will be no sealing. You will give her your name free and clear—none of your shadow magic. Those are the terms.”

  For a moment, Ryder looked so affronted, he wasn’t even handsome anymore. The moment passed, and he was back to superior and bored. “You have no idea the gift you refused.”

  “Do we have a bargain?”

  Ryder shrugged.

  Lucas made him swear a carefully worded oath that he was certain didn’t leave any loopholes through which Ryder could secretly seal Briana in his own magic or wiggle out of giving her his true name before they crossed the wards.

  Ryder added in several eyerolls and expletives, but the oath was sworn.

  “Now tell me what you’ve left out about Hedvika, starting with why you want her dead so badly. You said she took something—”

  A blade of cold cut through the very center of Lucas’s being, and he doubled over. Spots filled his vision. A hollow ache blossomed in his chest, carrying a long-forgotten panic, an echo of the moment he’d felt Vivianne’s life snuffed out. It spread like an inkblot of misery, threatening to engulf every other thought.

  “What’s wrong?” Ryder asked.

  “Briana,” Lucas gasped. He held his hands out in front of him. They were shaking. “I can’t feel her.”

  He didn’t finish the words before he was leaping out of the cave and bounding through the snow as the wolf. He tore through the camp, not bothering to check the tent. Her scent trail was clear and led down the hill of the bowled valley…toward the woods.

  Her tracks were deep but fresh. She’d been here only moments ago. Yet he heard nothing.

  Over a berm, he ran into a frozen river. Frantic, Lucas circled the last hint of her scent. It evaporated into a breeze of snowflakes, and he lifted his muzzle to the sky and howled.

  ***

  Ryder hovered in the sky, waiting for the moment Lucas realized he was too late. He could no longer feel his connection to Briana because she had already crossed Hedvika’s wards. A mournful howl spiraled into the air, and sure enough, the great beast lunged directly toward the nearest tree line.

  Ryder shot down into the wolf’s path and created a wall of shadow behind him.

  With a snarl, Lucas leapt at his throat.

  Just in time, he wrapped a coil of shadow around the wolf’s snout, muzzling him. He caught the wolf’s weight and they toppled into the deep snow together. He had an advantage over the Kinde in wolf form, since he couldn’t draw a shadow-slayer. Khaos-wrought weapons and the demon touch—which forced him to stay corporeal—were some of the few vulnerabilities of his people.

  He coiled more shadows around Lucas’s hind legs and yanked.

  The wolf growled, but finally stilled its attack.

  “Listen to me,” Ryder said in an admonishing tone as he stood and dusted the snow from his clothes. “Calm your beast and get a hold of yourself. Really.”

  When the growling ceased, he released the shadow bindings. Lucas shifted into his human form, but his eyes continued to glow with the wolf’s golden fire. He was dressed in Khaos battle garb, both blades strapped to his massive body. He paced back and forth like a caged animal. “Did you know this would happen?”

  “Of course not. Do you think I wanted our only bargaining chip rolling across the table on its own?”

  Lucas stopped in front of him, fists clenched at his sides. “Is she in imminent danger?”

  Ryder stared at him, refusing to answer such a ridiculous question.

  Lucas shook his head and resumed his pacing.

  Ryder stopped him, bracing his shoulders, coaxing Lucas’s gaze to his with a little taste of his hypnotic powers. A Kinde free of the Synod’s collar—and the protective magic imbued in it—was as susceptible as any witch.

  Lucas blinked and refocused.

  “You must go after Briana, and soon. That is what she expects you to do.” This was an unfortunate beginning. He hadn’t realized Hedvika’s reach extended so f
ar beyond her wards, or he would have been more careful.

  Her powers have grown. A gnawing ache coiled in his core. A tiny voice whispering how much sweeter she would taste with the extra centuries of accumulated magic…

  “Then why are we wasting time talking?” Lucas tried to shake loose of his grip, but Ryder held fast.

  “Because, thanks to the oath you made me swear, I must give my name before I can cross the wards. Clearly this constitutes a change of conditions,” he whispered, wrapping them both in a swath of shadow.

  Lucas stiffened.

  “Easy, wolf.” He smoothed his hands down the Kinde’s arms as darkness closed around them.

  He gazed at Lucas’s silver glow, his aura blazing with the rich fire of demon and witch magic co-mingled. Ryder had subsisted on that magic, diluted by the Synod’s siphoning spell, for centuries. But he’d never tasted it directly from the source, freely given. Mana was much more palatable when the other party was willing. When forced, it immediately turned sour and brought little satisfaction. Which was why he loathed the Synod—they enslaved and starved his people, forced them to work for scraps of rotten, malnourishing food.

  Lucas’s energy would be stronger than Zyne mana, but not as powerful as Bri’s or Vika’s. Still, when he’d thought Lucas was offering himself earlier, he’d lusted for it. Rich. Spicy. Old. Mana grew more flavorful with age.

  He drew on his hypnotic powers, until Lucas relaxed against the shadows, no longer flinching away when they caressed him.

  “Good,” Ryder purred, using the shadows to lift them both from the ground and draw them closer together. He wrapped the larger man in a loose embrace. “You must listen to me. This is our only choice. I cannot give Briana my name now that she is within the wards—Hedvika will have placed spells preventing it. So, I must give it to you. Now.”

  Lucas blinked, straining to free himself of Ryder’s coil.

  He began to drain away some of the Kinde’s energy, drawing it forth, mixing it with his own. The Kinde’s eyelids grew heavy, and Ryder thrust a wave of energy back into him, mingling their auras. Lucas gripped him by the forearm, fingers digging in as Ryder eased closer, their lips almost touching. “We have not made a bargain for this, but I offer it freely, in exchange for your trust.”

  He sealed their mouths together, a press of lips and a shared breath. Drawing, restoring, drawing, restoring. Until the mana flowed between them like a river between two distant banks. He sent his name across the river, a kiss of magic floating in a glass bottle to break upon that other shore. He had never given his name without placing the geas of silence on his vessel as well. It felt wrong—too vulnerable.

  You have no other choice.

  He placed his hands on either side of the Kinde’s broad, strong face and pressed their foreheads together as the spell soaked in. His voice was a hoarse whisper as he said the words that would tie him to this warrior for the rest of eternity. “What is my name?”

  Lucas’s gaze flared with a ring of fire as the mantle of the spell settled over him. He rasped in surrender, “Theliel.”

  Theliel shuddered as the not-unpleasant sensation of his own magic sealed him to the Kinde in his arms. He cursed whatever tiny thread of weakness remained in him that he still longed for that connection on some level. To be named. To be known. To be needed.

  A vestigial craving from his time in the Light. Useless.

  Weakness.

  He dropped the wolf in a heap, and quickly schooled his features to neutral disdain as Lucas gathered himself from the ground. Just as quickly, he found the tip of a shadow-slayer at his throat.

  “Don’t ever hypnotize me again.”

  Theliel stared back at him, annoyed but unfettered. He knew the threats on his life were all for show. A matter of pride. But he was weary of the posturing. “We are wasting time.”

  Lucas paused for a few heaving breaths, then shook himself and sheathed his weapon. The look of anguish that crossed his face almost made Ryder feel sorry for him. “Where do I go?”

  He followed Lucas’s gaze along the river, toward the nearby falls. “You want to enter the woods there, due west of that peak. You’ll find the least resistance cutting straight through that way. Her lair is at the edge of that mountain.”

  The wolf lifted his nose, as if trying to discern the truth of that by scent. He turned back to regard Ryder. “And what will you do, since you haven’t found your way through the wards yet?”

  “Oh, I’ll think of something.” He flashed his most dashing smile, winked, and launched into the frostbit sky. He watched Lucas shift into his wolf and bound off towards the falls. Once in the thick cover of the clouds, he drifted for a while, collecting his thoughts.

  He’d known the risks of entangling himself with another Skydancer. Briana was his first chance at freedom in half a millennium. He’d deemed it worth a toss of the dice. Lucas had been nothing but a thorn in his side from the beginning, but he’d expected as much.

  The Kinde did not trust him a whit. Another point in his favor. And he was more cunning and manipulative than Ryder had originally thought, harder to mislead.

  What if you are the one being used?

  Could he have made such a grave miscalculation? Risked too much? For the first time in eons spent on this plane, he’d given his name without a sealing. There was no magic compelling the wolf’s silence.

  Still, it could not be helped. He needed some element of surprise now that the plan had morphed again. All three of them would soon be in the enchantress’s clutches. She’d already tilted the table. He could not remain hidden in the shadows now.

  You were foolish to think you could defeat her without getting your hands bloody.

  He’d hoped to let the other two do the dirty work, leave himself out of the equation until it was time to collect his due. That was the deal he’d made with Lucas, and it suited him fine.

  Because you do not trust yourself.

  Could he see her again—feed from her again—and not lose himself?

  You will soon find out.

  Now, his plan hinged on a bluff, so he needed an ace up his sleeve. But this ace was a wild card. He had no way to control what Lucas did with the gift he’d been given.

  Lucas was a formidable tactician, yet also brash and unpredictable when it came to the witch.

  The only thing Ryder trusted was the look of panic in the wolf’s eyes—that he would do whatever was necessary to keep Briana alive. As long as Ryder was allied in that cause, he could count on the wolf’s cooperation.

  The irony was not lost on him that he’d placed the most important bet of his existence on… love.

  A gamble indeed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A brain-numbing, breath-stealing, heart-stopping haze of water and froth swirled around Bri as she slipped beneath the frozen surface of the river. She was trapped in an unnatural current, an icy fist coiled around her. The water whipped in a tight cyclone and yanked at her feet as if she was being sucked down a pipe, yet she somehow had a pocket of air. She screamed in terror every time the cyclone yanked her in a different direction, presumably dodging rocks or turning with the river’s course.

  Once she realized she could breathe, she forced herself to relax. It was torture. Her mother had drowned. Her grandmother and sister had plunged off a cliff in their car and crashed into the sea. She’d seen it all, relived it all many times over. She was almost numb to the idea of dying.

  But she thought of Kean that day when they were sixteen, following her out into the frigid waves. Dragging her out of the water, pressing their foreheads together and promising she would never be alone. He would always be there to pull her from the abyss.

  For him, she had to survive. So she relaxed, despite all her instincts to thrash and escape.

  She couldn’t tell how fast she was moving, couldn’t open her eyes, and couldn’t hear anything beyond the deafening rush of churning water. Until she heard a deeper, louder rumble over the shush of the cyc
lone. A familiar sound she knew instinctually.

  Waterfall.

  Her stomach convulsed with dread.

  She’d heard this sound in her dream. It hadn’t been symbolic at all—it was prophetic.

  The bear. The river. Being pulled down a tunnel with no control. The rushing water. And then it was the… choking.

  As Bri broke the surface of the raging river, whatever magic had been protecting her from drowning also broke. She heaved in a giant gulp of water and had barely hacked it back out before swallowing more.

  She was going to drown.

  Slowly.

  The current was carrying her through whitewater now. She couldn’t steer. It took all the power of her numb legs to keep her head above the frothing current.

  The whole time she was fighting to stay above water, the unmistakable roar of the falls grew closer and closer. She slammed into a rock and bounced off, inhaling another mouthful of water. Tears streamed from her eyes as she paddled, but her limbs were beginning to feel heavy and slow.

  She caught a peek of the edge as she slid over it. She took in a desperate breath before a raging shroud of white blocked out the rest of the world. But instead of a long tumble to a brutal smash at the bottom, she had the feeling of being squeezed in that icy fist again. It slowly unfurled until it was swaddling her, bearing her to the surface of the pool at the bottom of the falls. A wave pushed her gently across the water and onto a pebbly beach.

  She lay splayed out like an offering, trying to remember how her lungs worked. She had coughed out the water and managed to crawl mostly onto land when the bear reappeared. Bri spotted him and rolled onto her back with a bitter laugh. “Follow the white bear—great idea.”

  Curiosity killed the Oracle.

  Lucas would be frantic, Ryder livid.

  Maybe if she was a better witch, she would have understood the difference between a symbolic dream and a prophetic vision. Or maybe she would have guessed that her visions were warnings and not breadcrumbs for her to follow.

  Her body curled in on itself as shivers racked her in waves, an instinctual response to bone-deep cold. She hated that it made her look and feel so pathetic.