Remnants of Night (Darkest Despair Book 1)

by Keri Salyers

  He did not even glance down at my dress but the way he was keeping eye contact made me think he had already had ample time look. Sneaky mage. The sudden recollection of who and more specifically what this man was, sent a jolt through me and I quickly tamped down on any potentially misleading thoughts. Who’d think a Pelthocian was good-looking? Not me! Delicious like a decadent dessert? No way!

  His smile was sinful.

  I called for taxi service to take us downtown. Devi could not be dissuaded from riding with me and I didn’t want Ian and Cen to be alone together for too long less old rivalries heat up. That meant Ian, Devi and I in one cab, Cen and Eleanor in the other. When her golden ringlets bobbled in acquiescence with only the typical level of trepidation, I gave in with a nod and we all clambered in the cabs.

  Was I feeling butterflies? Maybe. There was a lot on the line and it’s not like I often played the heroine part. I wanted this over with. I wanted to win—to teach Invyrchal not to mess with me and my retirement. When we arrived and stepped out of the taxi, I looked up at the multistory building and felt the stirring of resentment. What was he playing at?

  There was a lot of foot traffic. A man with an ear piece stood next to the concierge who was directing people inside. The lounge was busy, the sitting rooms as well. A figure broke off from the shadows near the back hall and approached us. Anyone with connections to Lehiras could see this man was a Sarkkrai under that illusion so that meant pretty much everyone was clueless but us. He didn’t bother with pleasantries. “You are to join the other guests. He will come for you in time.”

  He moved back to his position but not without acknowledging Cen first. A human concierge congenially directed us up the elevator—an exciting ride to be sure.

  The doors opened to the sound of elegant orchestral music, of conversation and gasping Pelthocian curses when Ianarius shoved his way out. He drew a few curious gazes and made quick to recover his poise. He straightened his tie and bowed his head gentlemanly at those who were still staring. When we stepped out to join our metal-fearing mage, I couldn’t help but admire the scenery. Whomever this Sho Hashida was, he knew finery and he was loaded, plain and simple.

  The ballroom boasted two full walls of open glass, lucky it was not a typical gloomy Oregon day. Natural lighting combined with beautiful chandeliers and even a few modern candelabras chased away the shadows throughout the expansive floor, glancing off diamonds and brocade and laser-whitened teeth. People danced and sipped, mingled and laughed. The orchestra switched to a faster tempo much to the delight of listeners, inspiring several couples to leap to their feet and take to the center floor.

  It was all lovely for those who expected nothing more than a delightful party to celebrate an apparent milestone in operations. But we saw the stationed guards—the Sarkkrai lurking just out of the common area, present and ready like stalking shadows. I hoped they stayed put. I knew Sarkkrai and how they would react to a room full of soft weaponless targets and it would be a merciless slaughter. Watching one stand there like a perfect little soldier, I recalled what Ian and Ve’Sath had both said about my son making a name for himself, how his troops emulated him. These were the Sarkkrai Cen trained, had to be! Ve’Sath’s troops were ruthless, Cen’s were disciplined. If Invyrchal was using Cenav’s men in this, where were Ve’Sath’s?

  I herded my little group to a table closest to a wall and out of the way so we could keep an eye on the goings-on. Extricating my Harbinger from a conversation he introduced himself into, we took our seats to await what we had yet to know. Cen was hiding his disgust well, managing to merely look unfriendly but the tapping of his large fingers on the tabletop meant he had something in mind. He wasn’t watching the humans—they were probably beneath his notice—instead eyeing his Sarkkrai critically. It wasn’t long before he excused himself to speak with them. We watched him go.

  “You have to admit, my son makes a good human. He blends better than I would have imagined any Sarkkrai could,” I commented, trying to fill in the awkward silence between us.

  “That’s like saying a claymore fits in with steak knives. It’s like… saying Devi makes a good Pelthocian,” Ian responded.

  “I do make a good Pelthocian.”

  “Your teeth say otherwise.”

  “I can’t change bone.”

  “And Sarkkrai can’t change what they are truly at heart, no matter the spell concealing them.”

  “Ugh! Ian, you are so stodgy. I was just offhandedly remarking that Cen is behaving himself nicely and you go turn the conversation into a philosophical debate.”

  Ian was silent for a moment. “Yes, he hasn’t mauled anyone. That is always good.”

  I simpered at him. A waitress in a tiny purple cocktail dress brought us glasses of champagne. Eleanor whispered to me she had to use the restroom and I told her she didn’t have to ask my permission. When she got to her feet and headed off, I got the distinct feeling that I had missed something. Was I supposed to go with her? Did there really exist some sort of female code about restrooms? Drat. When the realization hit me, she was already gone. Some friend I was.

  I turned back in my chair to see Ian regarding me thoughtfully before I called him on it. “It is just… I never thought the day would come when we would just… sit and talk. I will admit that I had at one time entertained the lofty goal of being the end of Darkest Despair.”

  “Oh? And now?” I smiled, settling back in my chair, pleased for some reason that I had been subject of many a thought, albeit negative ones.

  “I would be remiss to say I have not enjoyed my time…”

  “Are you saying there is no unrequited need for avengement? Pelthocia was never big on forgiveness.”

  “Justice is important to us,” he replied. “But so is peace.”

  “And here we are.”

  “And here we are,” Ian repeated with a soft laugh. He had a nice laugh. It was fitting, warm. I had never really noticed it before when I was trying to, you know, kill him and all.

  “What if—damn it, where is Devi?” Suddenly I noticed we were occupying the table by ourselves and I had forgotten to keep an eye on him. Oh God, what if he were luring people off to kill in the restrooms? Ian nodded his head over toward the windows and I looked in the indicated direction. There was Devi, center of attention, all smiles and social grace while he told some fascinating story to an audience who was hanging on his every word. He winked at a pretty girl and they all joined him in laughter. Ah good, my inhuman assassin was enjoying himself… Wait, Devi didn’t speak English THAT well. I looked at Ian questioningly.

  “He asked me to spell him for the evening. As long as he is within range, he will know all the words I know.”

  “You… spelled him?” Huh. How about that. Then: “Hey! That’s my Harbinger! You go get your own!”

  He flashed his teeth in a smile, surprisingly me by ruining the cozy moment by saying he was going to take a look around. But he said he would bring me back something from the table of luscious foodstuffs. Joy. All was forgiven there. I kept my mental shields wrapped tight while he walked away but that didn’t keep me from downing the rest of my champagne in a single gulp. The waitress happened by at that moment. I took two of her glasses and no, I was not going to share.

  Cen I could see on the other side of the orchestra speaking to a couple of his men. Their posture was relaxed. Devi was being Mr. Popular. Eleanor had yet to return from the restroom and was perhaps lost. That left me, in my sophisticated dress and flawless hair, alone at an empty table watching a Pelthocian mage case the room. He never stopped for long, exchanging pleasantries where necessary, even smartly sidestepping a collision with a distracted waiter. It wasn’t just the posted Sarkkrai who took note of him. Eventually he caught the eye of a wingless harpy. I mean, one of the female attendees to the extravaganza.

  The woman tittered obnoxiously and I couldn’t help but think ‘foul floozy’. It took all my self-control to not un-inspire the stitching on her too-tight dress.
When she reached out to take off Ian’s sunglasses, the mage moved preternaturally fast to seize her hand. To mollify her shock he gave her a charming smile and pointed up to the bright lights overhead then placed a disgustingly smooth kiss upon the inside of her wrist. Utterly in his thrall now, the floozy blushed, eyes bright. Her friends joined her, looking like a tramp rainbow in their gaudy dresses.

  Now what was it I was supposed to do in order to properly play the part of hero? Incinerate people? No wait, not incinerate people? Ha, it’s so easy to get those two confused. I downed the glass of wine, moving on to the other one and jiggled a foot, feeling… what, put off? I glared at the table before glancing back at the happenings across the room. I involuntarily gave a start to see Ian watching me. Dropping my eyes, I attempted to find something more attractive for my attentions. I failed. Looking back at the mage, I saw him give up his female company amidst a chorus of forlorn sighs. He strode from them like they no longer existed and I gulped my wine to try to bury the very real feeling of pleasure I took at their dismay. I couldn’t help but notice the other appreciative glances thrown his way while he passed by several groups. Their eyes devoured him, roving over his shoulders, his backside, his long legs…

  Hmph lousy Pelthocian. Lousy handsome Pelthocian.

  “You shouldn’t make that face. You’re scaring all the potential weekend romances you could be lining up. Though I must say, you are encouraging a whole different sort with your grousing. Wine, dancing and a bevy of eligible men? Yet here you sit?”

  “Be silent for once,” I said, justifiably piqued. “I don’t need you of all people to tell me how to enjoy myself.”

  “Then let’s dance.”

  “What?”

  “Come now, just you and me.”

  I flushed to my roots. “Y-you forget we are not here for fun, I have something important to do.”

  “Just one dance. It may be our last chance.” He smiled that brilliant smile that had so entranced those floozies. He was bound up so tightly that I couldn’t sense a trace of emotion from him. “Or would you rather I choose a worthy partner for you instead? I can practically feel the desire from…” He cut himself off, mouth forming a stern straight line for a moment as he glared past me. Wait, what was that? I fervently wished those dark glasses were gone so that I could see his eyes. Would they have darkened in a scowl? Would they have flashed? Was I imagining what was clearly not there?

  I took his hand and he led me to the dance floor. The music was slow and soft. The other couples swayed in each other’s arms, content to be together and unmindful of anything or anyone else. Such contentment was lovely, I had to admit.

  “So… are there any…” Gods above and below, help me. “ladies in your life back in Osiril?”

  Ian chuckled, easing a hand around my waist and pulling me closer. “Oh they just line up. Something about moving things with your mind, remembering everything no matter how small a detail, being almost religiously devoted and knowing eventually you will hurt all those around you… and if that doesn’t do it, these eyes certainly will…”

  I hadn’t expected that. Though he was smiling, there was an underlying sadness.

  “When I first became Master Mage for my liege Burend, the court hangers-on made a game of it, seeing who could get me away from my studies. And I let them. And why not? They were using me, the same as I used them.” We moved slowly, the music a distant hum. “To them, I was a novelty, a curiosity. None of them were interested in me, per se; certainly no one likes what I do. Pelthocians may accept my kind but it’s not without its withholdings and reservations. Things went on like that for a while. Then I met…” He opened his mouth then closed it, pressing his lips together. “Her name doesn’t matter. I thought I had finally found someone who could get over…” Ian waved his hand as if to say, ‘everything about me and my magic’.

  “The whole creep factor?” I supplied. Our slow circling paused for a moment. Curse those dark glasses!

  “Over what I do and what my future will be.”

  “Ah.” He had someone then? Really “had”. I could feel the loss through our contact and it was a biting one. Cold, like Pelthocian winter mornings. “What happened?”

  Ian swallowed. He opted to look away for a bit, but we continued to move about the floor. “She was a caretaker. A nurturer at heart. She always went with the soldiers whenever they headed out of Osiril to take back cities from the Sarkkrai or to defend against raids. They always kept her safe. I… I didn’t get to know her well but, sometimes, I really wish we had had more time.”

  “What happened?” I gently asked again.

  “The Sarkkrai don’t take prisoners. There are no exceptions. Not for anyone. They were wiped out down to the last man. Or woman,” Ian said. “That is who we are dealing with. This Invyrchal is being backed by people like that. Exactly like that. Ve’Sath will help him if he thinks he can cause torment and destruction to anyone.”

  “Ve’Sath—”

  “Do you think he won’t? Honestly?” Ian asked, voice heated. “You know him better than any, I’d say. He’ll use you for that end, mark my words.”

  “I... I won’t…” My thoughts were jumbled. Loyalty, love… honesty… What did I truly feel? What did I truly want?

  “And you will let him. I have seen it. Even now, you would let him. You are being delusional, Zofeya! That bastard will use your feelings for him against you and by proxy, Invyrchal will be able to do the same damn thing! With you and your son.”

  Emotion overwhelmed me and I couldn’t think. His grip on my hand and around my waist was tight and too warm. My words jumbled and fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. “He’s a monster and I am just like him. We’re the same. We’re the same! I deserve—”

  “Stop it!” Ian said, grabbing my wrist when I tried to pull away and giving me a shake. “Just stop. You aren’t like him. You’re nothing like him anymore. I can feel… things… about you. I know you care for this world—this Earth—and its people. I can even feel the deep-seeded guilt you harbor over Cenav like a wilted leaf on a flower—as well as the love. Not even the fact that he is part of that creature can keep you from feeling so fully for him. It nearly… it nearly breaks the heart.”

  “Ian, why don’t you hate me? For all I’ve done?” I sounded like a spoiled brat and I didn’t care. Even my sniffle sounded kiddy.

  “By all accounts, I truly should,” he said, lifting his chin. “But I can feel the sincerity in all the things you do.” He brushed aside a strand of my hair. “Can we perhaps retire to a different location? Just for a moment while we await the guest of honor?”

  Can we get off the dance floor? Read that loud and clear. There was a balcony overlooking the bulk of the room. We headed there. I leaned back onto the railing, admiring the painting behind us where Ian was leaning forward to watch the people below us. “I meant what I said.”

  “I know,” I responded. When I met his eyes, I tapped my temple like he often did to me. His smile was gorgeous. I moved a little closer. Our arms touched on the railing. Surprising me, Ian removed his glasses, turning them this way and that in his hands.

  “I’m a Pelthocian mage, doesn’t that bother you?” His eerily colored eyes drew in mine, pulling my gaze from his mouth.

  I studied him for a moment before responding. “And I am the bringer of war, the taker of countless lives. My hands are so stained with the blood that Sarkkrai revered me and considered me a god. I’ve tried to destroy everything you have valued at one point in your life. I also cheat at card games.” So much for sweet nothings. “Does that bother you?”

  I leaned in close, pulling him boldly to face me with a collar in both hands. He smelled good, like ozone and the darker personal scent that was simply him. I breathed him in—so intoxicating, this mix of man and arcane—his warm body unyielding against mine. Lifting my head, I eyed his perfect cupid’s bow of a mouth. What would he taste like? I’d never kissed a mage before. His lips parted and I could he
ar the breath drawn between. With my wrist over his heart, I could feel its rapid tempo. On my toes, I went in for the kill…

  Only to have him snap out of the moment as if I had just stepped on his foot. Ian latched on to my wrists and pulled them off his collar, blinking rapidly like he just woke up abruptly. “Ah, wait, Zofeya. I… I’m sorry…” he said awkwardly, his lips thinning into an uncomfortable smile. “I… I don’t...”

  “What? Don’t do what?” I replied, a little peevishly. Well that moment was certainly ruined. I realized I sounded like a jilted prom date left hanging for the goodnight kiss that would never happen, but whatever.

  “I am sorry. I just don’t kiss…” He at least had the courtesy to look as embarrassed as I was beginning to feel. He released my wrists and I stepped back.

  “Oh I see. So those harlots at Burend’s court, did you kiss them?”

  “No.” His eyes darkened and his jaw set. We stared at each other for several breaths. “They aren’t—were never—special to me. I’d rather our first ti—” He caught himself and his eyes darted upward. The muscles in his jaw flexed again.

  I was too set on righteous indignation for what he said to truly register. I mean, this man was literally in the process of training his own eventual-killers back in Lehiras, that there might be another side to him—a side that wasn’t about instant gratification, of living in the moment, of doing what he wanted purely because he wanted to—was a thought totally alien to me.

  “Even through your barriers, Mr. Master Mage, I can tell you’re attracted to me. It doesn’t take anything special to realize that. So what is it? What’s stopping you, huh? You may not be power-hungry, but you desire it anyways. I am one of the most powerful beings in Lehiras and that is no boast. You studied me and now you have me, right in front of you.”

  He did not respond. He just looked at me with his strange eyes. I felt nothing. I could read nothing.

  “Fine then,” I said, drawing up and resisting the temptation to run a hand over my eyes. It might smear my mascara, after all! With all the dignity I could muster, I pulled in my leaking feelings. He didn’t deserve to be able to feel anything. “I am tired of waiting for that pompous ass to show. This game sickens me.”