He whispered something into her ear, and she smiled shyly, looking down at her infant with all the motherly affection Blaze had seen in his own mother’s eyes. He moved past them with care, heading up the wide, winding staircase to the top floor, where he stopped outside Emma’s door.
Listening for sounds within the room, he let the warmth of her presence and her sweet, smoky scent fill him and clear his mind.
When the sounds of shuffling came from within Emma’s room, he knew she was awake. He raised his fist and knocked gently.
There was movement. He heard her breathe in shakily. Then her soft steps as she made her way to the door. Another pause, then the door opened.
Her hair was mussed; some strands looked as though they’d been tugged on. The scent of smoke and ashes intensified. Emma’s lips were pursed, her eyes filled with a look of betrayal that made him frown.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Blaze snorted.“I’ve been around long enough to know that when a woman says ‘nothing,’ it’s most certainly something.” When her expression didn’t lighten, his amusement faded. “Please tell me.”
An array of emotions played on her face, too quickly for Blaze to read them all. Then her head tilted down, her shoulders rounded.
“It’s nothing. I’m tired.”
A stab of disappointment flared in his chest. Another lie. Another secret. The wall she was building around herself was getting higher and thicker—so much so he wondered if he’d ever be able to knock it down.
Blaze lifted a hand and cupped her cheek, lifting her face to meet his gaze.“Whatever it is that you’re keeping to yourself is a burden that could be lifted from your shoulders if you’d confide in me. I told you before, that no matter who or what you are, I don’t care. I know you miss your mother, and I can’t imagine how hard that must be for you. If you’re blaming yourself, don’t. It’s not your fault. We will find a way to save her. Sergei and Gertie have been consulting every written text regarding Sheol—”
She shook her head and huffed a sigh.
Blaze switched directions.“I just want you to know that I’m here to help you carry this weight. Don’t let it crush you.” His thumb stroked her cheek.“I can help you.”
Anger and hurt crossed her beautiful face, but her lips remained tightly pressed together.
He pushed down another wave of disappointment, but he didn’t let her go. He stepped closer, leaning in to kiss her lips, but her face turned away from his, forcing his lips to brush her jaw. A cord of rejection snapped taut in his chest, bringing with it a sharp stab of pain. He sighed, dropping his hand, and stepped away.
As he did, his gaze fell over her shoulder, to the dusting of ash on the carpet in front of her mirror.
“Did something catch fire?” he asked before she could shut the door.
She swallowed hard, then nodded.“A candle tipped over and caught some of my school papers.”
Blaze flicked his attention to her clenched fists.And the stain of smeared ash that coated her fingers. Then, with more scrutiny, he noticed the smudge of ash above her brow. And caught in the fine hairs was a fleck of crimson. The damp roots of her hair looked as though she’d washed something from it.
Something like blood.
His teeth clenched and his nostrils flared, picking up a trace scent of blood. She was lying to him again.
Something far worse had taken place.
“We’re leaving in the morning. Be downstairs with a packed bag at six.”
She nodded weakly, her eyes looking as though they were trying to say the words she wouldn’t speak.
“Goodnight,” he said, this time gentler. He started toward his room, flinching when her door slammed shut.
He entered his chambers with a long exhalation. The party continued downstairs, though the noise was barely audible to his hypersensitive hearing.
Just after his shower, a knock sounded at his external door.
He couldn’t help but pause, trying to feel for Emma’s presence next door. She was there, a tiny beacon of warmth against his skin, like the direct rays of the summer sun but without the blinding light. It wasn’t her that had knocked.
Blaze hurried to his door, a towel wrapped around his waist, droplets of cool water trailing down his back. He pulled the door open, finding Manny and Garrett standing outside, with grim expressions.
“What is it?” Blaze asked. Neither bothered commenting on his attire, not that either of them cared.
Manny spoke first.“The gate was attacked. Shediem.”
The words were a punch to his chest.“How many?”
“Six,”Garrett said, rubbing a spot on his chest with a grimace. “We managed to capture one. Destroyed the rest.”
Blaze’s brows lowered.“Six? They couldn’t have hoped to get past the gate with just six,” he said, mostly to himself.“Have you questioned the one you caught yet?”
Both shook their heads. “Not yet,” Manny said. “But we thought it was odd. Six Nybbases. Their packs aren’t the type to attack the compound.”
Blaze nodded.“No injuries?”
Garrett exchanged an uncomfortable look with Manny before saying,“One.”
Blaze’s spine straightened.“Who?”
Manny rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.“Emerelda.”
Blaze frowned. “What was she doing on the other side of the gate?”
“See, this is where things get a little awkward,” Garrett explained. His freckled face had gone red and his eyes were fixed on a spot on the floor.
When he opened his mouth to say more, Manny cut him off with a glare.“She claimed that earlier, one of the vendor trucks had dropped a box of tablecloths and she wanted to search for it.”
Blaze looked between the two men, tasting the lie on the air like battery acid. From the way Garrett’s face had begun to resemble a beet, Blaze was fairly certain he could deduce the truth. She’d snuck out to meet with someone. But with whom was the question.
He leaned forward slowly, stopping a few inches from Garrett’s face. His voice was soft and menacing when he spoke. “Who was she with?”
“We couldn’t tell,” Manny said with a sigh.“He took off when the Shediem attacked. We didn’t see where he went. Anyway, she just got scraped. Nothing major.”
Blaze drew out a long breath.“What was she doing with this guy, and how do you know for sure it was a man?”
Garrett seemed eager to jump in.“We heard a gruff voice. It looked like they were just talking, but she seemed a little more than friendly with this bloke, if you know what I mean.”
Blaze rolled his neck, trying to loosen the growing tension. How would he tell his brother that his beloved was not being faithful? He didn’t have any proof.
Manny started to speak, but Blaze held a hand up, silencing him.“We need to keep a closer eye on her. Report directly to me if she sneaks off again. I want to know who she’s meeting, and I want him brought to justice. My brother deserves that much.”
Manny swallowed audibly.“Will she…will she be punished according to our laws?”
Blaze sighed. Their laws were harsh toward women caught in infidelity. An engagement between Giborim was nearly unbreakable. The blood ritual which was done early that morning had bound his brother to Emerelda and her to him. If she was found to be unfaithful, their law dictated she be stripped bare and stoned to death. Which for a Giborim often took weeks.
“We would need proof first. Does my brother know?”
“I doubt it,” Manny replied.
With a final nod, Blaze gestured them away. “Now that the party is over, make sure the gate is guarded by five, starting tonight. And add seven extra men around the perimeter. I’ll be leaving in the morning, and so will Axel. We’ll be gone for about a week.”
The men nodded, turning to go.
“Don’t let her out of your sight, and stay vigilant. We can’t let another attack happen.”
12
Le
varoth
Pain exploded through him like bombs, tearing through flesh, muscle, and bone. His eyes wouldn’t open, but he could see the pain behind his lids, even though he was
alone. He’d soon be paid another visit from the Spellcaster and Tlahaz. He just hoped Tlahaz had agreed to let her try to remove the mark from Emma. The silky cord that stretched from him to her had vibrated with pain and fear only hours ago, while Asmodeus rammed magicked tools into his broken body, making him unable to visit her. To protect her. But the surge of protective rage had helped stave off the worst of the pain.
Now, he was strong enough, and tugged on the link, launching himself into her consciousness.
Her nightmare had already begun, footfalls echoing through the labyrinth halls of Asmodeus’s palace, trying door after door. He didn’t have to ask who or what she was looking for. He’d found her in a similar dream before, and it took only a moment for her desperate cry to confirm it.
“Mom!”
“Emma,” he said behind her, making her turn.
She looked him up and down with cold anger.“Is it actually you, or the you that betrays me and gets me thrown in the dungeon? Not that there’s really a difference.” Then her eyes dragged over the wings tucked in at his back and some of the tension left her.“It’s you.”
Levaroth nodded. She seemed more agitated than usual, like a caged animal. He knew how she felt. The only moments he could step out of his prison were the moments he spent with her. But this was only a projection of the two of them. Neither of them was truly here. The constant throbs of pain reminded him of that.
“I can get us out like last time,” he suggested. Even though this was her dream, where the halls turned and forked to different halls endlessly, when she would let him take the lead he found the exit. But never her mother.
Emma glanced at the corridor filled with locked doors, her anguish plainly written on her face. It tugged on a deeper thread in his chest that he tried to ignore. She shook her head, shifting her weight to her other side as if unable to stand still for long, arms crossing and uncrossing. The behavior reminded Levaroth of the sensation that sometimes raced through his veins and tingled up his wings when he needed to stretch them: to fly. The girl looked as though she wanted to sprout wings of her own and take flight. The image tugged his lips to the side.
“I have to find her,” she said.
“Let me help,” Levaroth offered.
She shook her head.“I don’t want you here. Leave.”
Levaroth ignored her and walked past her to one of the doors, and with as much strength as he could manage, he gripped the handle and yanked. The door groaned and the hinges cracked as it was ripped from its frame. He tossed it behind him, the resounding smash against the stone wall causing Emma to jump. She sucked in an alarmed breath, then rushed to his side. The flames that danced and undulated from the floor illuminated enough of the room to see inside.
It was dark and monochromatic, stacked with dust-covered furniture. Levaroth snorted. This was what her mind thought of the Prince of Wrath. She didn’t acknowledge Levaroth’s amusement, only started for the next door.
She pulled and pulled on it, even tried sending balls of fire at it. But only Levaroth could open it. She folded her arms over her chest, huffing with frustration.
“If I were to analyze why only I can open doors and find exits in your nightmares, would you try to kill me?” he asked with wry amusement.
She flashed him a sickly-sweet smile. “Oh, I wouldn’t try. I’d succeed.”
He gave a gruff laugh, trying to ignore the flood of desire her words unleashed within him. They sprinted down corridor after corridor as Levaroth tore each door from its frame. But each room was uneventfully empty.
At last they reached a dead end: a door with chains across it, decorated with hundreds of locks. A white light seeped around the edges, giving an eerie vibe that made Emma shiver next to him. They both stared at it for a moment. Then Levaroth started for it.
Emma wrapped both of her small hands around his comparatively large bicep and tugged on him. He stopped, instead of dragging her entire body along with him, though the idea amused him.
“What?” he asked.
“This is my nightmare.” She stressed the last word as though this was new information to him. Her eyes were wide, but there was no fear in them. Only wariness.
“That’s why I’ll go in first.”
She swallowed hard.“I can’t see my mother dead or beaten. I just can’t. I need to wake up.”
Levaroth raised a brow. “It’s just a dream. Besides, if you conquer this fear, you likely won’t have any more nightmares about it.”
Emma bit her plump bottom lip, and Levaroth watched, wanting to taste it again.“We could always occupy ourselves in another way,” he suggested, grinning.
Her gaze snapped to him like a taut rubber band, her brows drawn and lips pursed. “By the way, thanks for all your help getting this mark removed.”
Levaroth’s jaw tightened. “I made the offer, but Adrianna hasn’t visited in over a week.”
Emma looked back at the glowing door. “Is she okay?” she whispered.
Though his answer could not be entirely truthful—seeing as he hadn’t seen her in so long—he still said,“Yes.”
He wanted to reach out and touch her. To assure her that he’d find a way to remove the mark. But deep down he wasn’t in any hurry to forget her. He wondered, even if Adrianna was successful in removing all those memories, if she’d truly be able to wipe away all traces of Emma Duvall. She was a drug laced through his blood. An addiction that only grew stronger. He didn’t need to remember her to crave her, though it would be more painful—an addict looking for a high but unable to determine what would set him free.
Her throat bobbed, as if she could hear his musings. He watched the nervous ticking of her pulse and let the sound of it fill his ears. With a deep inhale he closed his eyes, and her intoxicating scent wound through him. He shuddered, wishing he could press his lips to the base of her slender throat. To feel her strong, feminine body beneath his again.
A squeak came from directly in front of him and his eyes flashed open. He’d backed her against a wall, arms on either side of her head, caging her in. The tip of his nose rested against the silky curve of her neck, just below her jaw. His canines had lengthened, and he bared them with a low growl. Her heartbeat thundered in his ears.And though he had never been able to taste her emotions, he could see the hint of fear in her eyes.
But her heart thundered for an entirely different reason: excitement. Despite not wanting to admit it, she wanted him too.
“I’m the only one that can withstand your fire,” he whispered against her skin, which pebbled in response. His breath skated to her lips.“I know your inner darkness better than he ever could.” She was rigid in his grasp, unbreathing. “He can’t handle your fiery passion like I can. I set you aflame, I can feel it.” Her eyes fluttered closed and he considered sinking his teeth into her at last, letting her taste coat his tongue.“I can make you burn hotter than you’ve ever felt before.” His tongue flicked out, running along the sensitive area that thumped wildly. She sucked in a sharp breath.
Actual fire leapt from her skin, burning neither of them.
He chuckled deeply. The irony of his statement had come to life.
Her eyes snapped open at the sound of his laugh, realizing what had happened. With a hit to his chest, she managed to knock him back a step. A mixture of hatred and disgust filled her every feature. His rage roared to the surface at the sight of it, his beast fighting to break free.
“Don’t you dare touch me!” Her chest heaved as she tried to regain a sense of calm.
“Why?” he challenged.“Why do you fight it? I can hear your pulse. I can sense your desire. Stop fighting it. You know we’d be perfect together.”If just this once were the words he didn’t say. Because soon, he wouldn’t remember what it felt like, this raging desire that only she incited. Th
is fight to make her his. To make her bow at his feet.
“It’s not me! It’s the mark or something, this isn’t me!” Emma glared up at him as if every touch and kiss didn’t drive her wild, while Levaroth fought the urge to crush her body against his, to feel her every curve. His frame trembled with the effort.
“You’ve been drawn to me since the day you laid eyes on me, sunshine.”
“Don’t call me that!”
He smirked, forcing himself to take another step back. The heatless fire still lapped at Emma’s flesh, like a pet seeking affection.
“I haven’t fed in weeks,” he said, his voice still gravelly.“And your unique scent is impossible to resist in every way.”
“What, are you some kind of vampire or something? I thought you could feed on emotions.”
Levaroth snorted. “I’m far scarier than any silly human imagining. I don’t feed on blood.” His smiled turned wicked. “Unless I want to.”
Emma scoffed, though she seemed determined to keep a safe distance between them.“Do you need to touch someone to feed off their emotions?”
“No. I can feed off a room full of humans if their emotions are strong enough. But touching someone is more potent. It tastes better. Usually because it’s fear.”
“Have you ever fed off mine?”
Levaroth glanced back at the waiting door. The light behind it poured out brighter than before, pulsing with urgency.“I can’t taste your emotions,”he said. Then he looked back at Emma, who now watched the door too. “I can feed off you, but it would be muted. And you wouldn’t die like humans do. It would weaken you, but you’d be fine. And even if I could taste your emotions, I don’t need to. They’re always written so plainly on your face.”
Her cheeks grew pink, but she didn’t look at him, only stepped toward the door.
The feeling of hands gripping his spine made him stiffen. Then he felt a tug.
Shit. He lunged for the door and ripped it from its hinges before he could be pulled from Emma’s dream.
The Throne of Broken Bones (Weapon of Fire and Ash Book 3) Page 10