Shadowed Fire (Veil of Midnight Book 1)

by A. Vers

  Chol’s grip on my hand tightens. A million butterfly wings dance through me, taking flight in a volley of fear and cookie-scented need. My heart stutters.

  I try to force the fire down and focus as I sprint over the stones, dragging Chol behind me. “What? What’s going on?”

  “My wards tripped,” Nix states simply.

  “What?”

  His lips part to reply but I pull away from the prince, already feeling the house.

  There is nothing. No pulses or energy. Nothing but the strange quiet from this morning. An emptiness.

  But at the edge of that deathly quiet is darkness, a darkness filled with hate and a coldness that seems to chill me to the bone.

  My eyes widen.

  And it’s coming right for us.

  Chapter 9

  I drop my bag beside the half wall in the foyer. With no front door, all the ledgers are in scattered disarray and leaves clutter the floor. I bend down to pull two thinner volumes from the bottom shelf of the broken cabinet.

  Something rattles gently inside. With shaking hands, I open the top cover and scoop out the few coins and slips of Earth money before shoving it all on top of my clothes in the bag.

  Hurry. Hurry. The word repeats over and over, and I swear it’s Nix’s haughty tone.

  I’ve never been away from the embassy. Ever. And now we are running away. I fight to stop my shaking. But I can’t stay. Not with whatever that dark energy is getting closer and closer to Midnight.

  Glass crunches and a sharp knock sounds on the doorframe.

  I peer over the broken edge of the desk as that harsh wave of hate seems to seep deep into my bones.

  No. Not coming.

  I gulp. It’s already here.

  Three large men and two women wait just inside the door. All of them are in unrelieved black, and weapons litter their muscular frames. Even the women sport a fair amount of strength despite the willowy grace with which they move. I nudge my bag out of sight.

  An older male, with dark hair and a carefully trimmed beard, steps forward. “It seems we may have missed quite an event,” he says mildly. His voice is deep, rasping. But it’s the dark energy swirling in and around him that leaves my knees knocking.

  I try not to look around at the mess as I stand slowly. “Going away party for the last group that came through,” I quip, leaning into the old counter and shoving my bag deeper into the shadows. “Dwarves are a rather rambunctious group.”

  His smile never quite reaches his dark, lifeless eyes. “Would you have lodgings for the night? Anything with a door is fine.”

  I start to shake my head when steps echo down the stairs. Nix slips around the narrow half wall beside me. Glamour hides his features, leaving his hair solid black and his eyes a human cognac and gold. Even his face seems harder, more sinister. Leaner. And his crimson markings are gone. His expression is emptier than the newcomer’s and as menacing as the day he arrived.

  They stare at each other. It becomes hard to breathe, suffocatingly tense. Deadly.

  Nix drapes an arm over my shoulders, making me jump, and his heat sears through me. “I’m afraid we have nothing available,” he says with malice.

  The male shifts, eyeing Nix with more loathing than I would like. “Shame that.” His compatriots shift around him, forming a loose half circle. I swallow. “I would have welcomed a rest before the fun began.”

  Those words seem to be a command as every member of his little group draws a weapon in readiness of battle.

  “What do you want?” I ask, voice hard. Nix’s hand tightens on my arm reflexively.

  The man leans back, cold black eyes fixed beside me on Nix. “We want Chol.” His dark head tilts. “Well…the boss wants the bastard prince. I want Phoenix’s head on a platter.”

  Phoenix? Nix?

  I try not to look at the man at my side.

  “You and every other being on all three plains,” Nix snarls. “Get in line.”

  The leader smiles, and two long white lines mar the left side of his face. “See that’s where you’re wrong, boy. I am the line now,” he says to Nix. “And I will destroy the man that killed my wife and daughter.”

  Nausea rolls through me as Nix remains silent. There is a resigned quality to him, a waiting.

  Then, “I’m going to give you one chance to leave. Go back to your master and I will consider letting you live.” The words are an empty rumble as Nix steps a pace in front of my body. “For now.”

  The leader smirks. “Does she know what you are?” he asks absentmindedly, more of Nix than me. Those cold, dull eyes flow in my direction. But only for a moment. “He’s more than an assassin. Or a Hallow. He’s a killer.” The way he says Hallow is how it’s meant to be uttered, with equal parts reverence and fear. But the fine undercurrent of rage is what makes me back up. “The lowest of the low, without morals or direction.”

  “And I’m going to slit his throat,” the leader says with a grin that holds zero sanity.

  My head starts to shake. “Not on my watch.” Nix glowers at me and I glare right back.

  The leader’s eyes flash with malice. “And who will stop me? Surely you wondered why no one alerted you to our presence?” he asks. “Why no one came to tell you there were guests?”

  He reaches into the pocket of his coat and pulls out dark matted clumps of hair. They fall to the floor and stick there with a wet slap as clotted blood smears the pale marble. Bile rushes up my throat.

  The other supernaturals didn’t leave like we thought. They were killed.

  “Left none alive to call you,” he sneers. “And I’m gonna do worse to both of you before I take the Prince.”

  I grind my teeth and motion at my side, preparing to weave. My body jerks and purple flames wind around my frame, holding me so tight my lungs constrict. I inhale in harsh, shallow pulls. Nix moves forward.

  “Uh uh, now,” the leader says, wagging one gloved finger. The female mercenary at his side raises a hand, sickly purple light crackling at her fingertips. She begins to close them inward and the magick binding me tightens. I gasp.

  “Call the prince, bastard. Or Serena here will boil your girl’s insides.”

  I choke as my stomach and lungs seem to ripple, heating unnaturally until all the air seems to scorch me. A whimper tears free.

  “Stop,” Nix commands. “She is innocent in this. A mere passing supe.”

  The leader smirks. “Does the great Phoenix have a conscience after all?”

  Nix growls. “Let her go.” His fists tighten and every muscle in his arms ripples. “And I will go willingly.”

  The leader watches him, waiting. Serena closes her hand and I choke again, neck cording as my body strains to break free. Burning flesh and cotton fills the air and I choke as tears spring from my eyes at the scalding pain.

  Nix drops to his knees, hands up.

  The leader smiles, and the bands around me loosen, but don’t disappear. I cave forward, hands on my knees as I suck in air rapidly. It wheezes past my lips and stars dance through my vision.

  Nix peers at me, flames shimmering in his angry eyes. He jerks his gaze sideways.

  To my bag.

  I blink. He cuts his eyes at the backpack and then toward the door.

  My eyes widen in understanding, and I hope I got his message right. Because if not…we are going to have to improvise.

  Pivoting in the binds of magick, I rip at the charm bracelet of crystals on my arm and toss it. It slides over the wood. The leader glances down at the small stones, his lips curling. Pulling tendrils of my power, I shove them outward as Nix drops low under the blast.

  The bang that follows rocks the house, throwing everyone back. Almost.

  There’s an audible pop and dark smoke fills the foyer. Strong hands grab my arms.

  I wreathe my body in flames.

  Masculine shouts echo in my ears from so close. I kick left then right, catching both frames with the heel of my boot.

  Nix rushes to me,
swords already in hand.

  “Drop,” he bellows.

  I sag in the men’s arms and he swipes down with his blades in a great arc. Hot blood sprays over me, but the grinding pressure on my arms disappears.

  Turning, I urge power into my fists, cloaking my knuckles in a diamond-hard shield. My punch snaps Serena’s ribs as she reaches for me. Her scream reverberates. I jam my boot into her knee, relishing the wet pop as it dislocates. She starts to buckle and my fist finds her jaw, throwing her back into the wall with a sickening thud. She slides down, but doesn’t move again.

  Her companion shrieks, the sound hair raising and not quite human. The woman rushes me, hands curved into talon-like hooks. I duck and bring my fist into her midsection. She gasps. Multiple lines of fire scrape over my arms, digging deep into flesh and muscle. I slam my foot into her ankle, clipping the bone and forcing her away. She snarls.

  Pulling against my low reserves, I weave a registant. The glowing bands catch her along the wrists, pulling those deadly claws away. She bucks. The bands spiral higher, sickly green and tightening with every move she makes. Spinning, I draw my leg back and seat my boot into the hard surface of her temple.

  Her whole body contorts in mid-air. Unable to catch herself, she crashes to the floor.

  I turn, wary of another opponent. Both other males are down, too, blood pooling under their severed arms as they moan.

  Nix parries a fast slash by the leader’s sword, but the blade nicks his midsection, slicing the fabric of his shirt and leaving a narrow, bleeding line. He snarls and reverses his hold mid swing.

  The pommel of his blade crashes into his opponent’s nose and blood sprays. The man drops his weapon, reaching for his face. I push him back with an incantus. He careens into the counter, toppling it and the remaining papers all over the floor. There is a sickening thwack. With a soft groan, he goes still. Nix advances, sword in hand and death written into every line of his body.

  I grab his arm. His skin is hot, too hot. I wrench back with a small sound of surprise.

  He rounds on me, chest heaving and strange light spilling from his eyes. There is little humanity left in them. He stalks me, his focus now pulled from the fallen mercenary.

  I stop breathing. “Nix?” I say in a gentle whisper, hands up. “It’s me. Sayah.”

  A growl rumbles from him and I shiver with fear.

  Ah Hells. He’s in a rage cath.

  There are few supernaturals who can still fall into one of the fabled battle rages from legend. Most are primal, elemental, or celestial types with little humanity to begin with. Some of the really old supernaturals have the ability, too, and they can hide it easy enough behind a humanoid facade. But Nix is in his early twenties. So it’s not his age. It’s his bloodline.

  Whatever the hells that is.

  “Nix. Damn it, don’t make me hurt you,” I say, steadily backing away as I pull more power I don’t have to spare. He follows. “Snap out of it, damn you.”

  But there is no one home. No one to talk to. I tremble, and know my mimir magick isn’t going to cut it right now. And the other… Well, that definitely isn’t a good idea. Damn, damn, damn. My hand flies before I can rationalize the stupidity of the motion.

  My palm halts an inch from Nix’s face. I stare at his fingers around my wrist. But I never saw him move.

  “Don’t,” he pants, “run.”

  I stare at him. “Nix?”

  He swallows, his eyes muting slowly. Not quite human, but closer. “Never run from me, Sayah.” His fingers let go, one long digit at a time. “And never hit me to get my attention.”

  I cradle my hand. “Then how do I wake you up again, genius?”

  His expression is wry, defeated. “Pray it never comes to a point when you have to.”

  Heart slamming with terror, I sidle a step away. “You need to go, Nix. Please. Grab Chol. I’m right behind you.”

  He takes in my reaction in that same quiet stillness as before. The sword in his grasp drips blood onto the floor; little patters that are barely audible over the roar of my heartbeat in my ears.

  I watch as he shoves whatever he is feeling down, some of the carnal rage fading like a slate being wiped clean. It’s the scariest thing ever. One minute he’s murderous…the next…nothing.

  He shakes the sword off and shoves it back in its scabbard before picking up the other and stowing it too.

  “Don’t take forever,” he says softly. He runs to the stairs without a backward glance.

  Only once I know he is out of hearing distance do I sag, gasping for air as my heart relearns how to beat at a normal tempo.

  Whatever Nix is…he’s deadly. How the hells Chol has survived his little episodes, I have no idea. And I’m not crazy enough to ask.

  Moving at a fast clip, I scramble to my bag. But halt as the only conscious forms in the room register. Both men glare at me where they rock on the floor. Teeth gritted, I slam my magick into their faces and their heads sag, blood dribbling from their lips.

  Nix is nowhere in sight as I rise and the house feels empty upstairs. Praying he grabbed Chol, I race down the steps into the dark.

  Turning back to the house, I shove as much power as I can spare into the wards. A flash of black light races across the doorway before fading into nothingness. Invisible to everyone but a mimir, the block should buy us a little bit of a head start.

  The nausea and fatigue that follows from using my reserves leaves me bent nearly in half. But I grit my teeth and run to the trees.

  Blades of fading grass fold in half as I speed across the lawn to the side yard, but I’m careful to find as many shadows as I can and stick to them. The brush and trees swallow up every depleting ounce of light, leaving me stumbling in the dark. But I don’t dare use an incantus. Out here--far from the manor--it would be a beacon. Feet inside the tree line, I slow, searching the dimness for the guys.

  Not that it would be a huge loss if they left—

  A warm hand lands on my shoulder. I whirl, fire crackling from the tips of my fingers.

  Chol stumbles back. “Easy, Sayah. It’s just us.”

  Chol and Nix grow more distinguishable from the neighboring shadows and the urge to laugh hysterically bubbles up inside me.

  Yeah. Just a wanted cambion prince and his homicidal inhuman bodyguard.

  Nix motions to the distant house. “Well?” he asks, moving closer to meet me halfway. I slip deeper into the trees. He stops, jaw rippling.

  Unable to talk to him without gaping at his supposed normalcy, I hold my hand up and urge them onward with my finger over my lips.

  We start off at a quick walk, maneuvering through white ash trunks and low hanging branches. Only after a few minutes of silence, does some of my tension dissipate. “I’ve bought us a bit of time if they move. Now what?”

  “We need to put distance between us,” Nix grumbles.

  “No shit,” I snap, peering at him in the dark.

  His brow arches.

  Hells.

  “Sorry.” I scrub a hand over my face. “So those are the ones after Chol?”

  I carefully avoid asking if the leader was honest about the rest. Particularly the bit about Nix killing his wife and daughter.

  One problem at a time. And it’s better to not anger the walking time bomb.

  He seems to measure how much he should say. “Yes,” he whispers and I exhale. “Marlec hired Erem and myself. But we aren’t the only Hallows in the world.” His expression blanks. “I’m not willing to chance their boss sending others.”

  Great.

  I exhale and scrub my face with my hands like I can wipe all of it away. “The closest town is Fent. And it’s no where I would want to take Chol, but there is a convergence there.”

  Chol glances between us. “I’m right here, you know?” he quips, sulkily.

  Nix ignores him. “The sooner we get topside and make for the consulate, the better. Attack or no attack, they have more resources than we do right now. But it’s go
ing to take some time to get there.”

  And that’s time we may not have.

  I dare a glance back towards the embassy but can only find shadows and darkness. “Fent it is.”

  With a nod, we dive into the trees.

  Chol’s panting and Nix’s dark form is the only indicator I’m not alone. That they are keeping pace and following my lead. My boots crunch through decaying sticks, rotted leaves, and fragrant loam. Every noise seems too loud in the quiet.

  Nix slips through every tangle with ease, blending in and out of the shadows before falling out onto the old dirt road leading from Midnight.

  He slams to a halt, head whipping in both directions. “Which way?”

  I slip past him onto the old packed earth and point down the path. “Fent is that way.” I start walking.

  Strong fingers close over my arm. I glance down at Nix’s hand.

  His eyes glitter just above his veil. “The road is too open. We need to stay in the shadows.” Not being able to really see his expression sets my already frazzled nerves on edge.

  I pull free. “We need to blend with regular traffic. With others in the Void.” Still he hesitates. “If we take the forest, it will add almost two hours to our travel time. And it’s too hard to maneuver if we get ambushed. We take the road.”

  He scowls but starts off at an easy jog in the direction I pointed. Chol and I fall in with him and we pound down the lane. With every distant snap of a rustling branch, my heart stutters.

  I wait for magick or a blade to slam into my spine, to grind me to a halt amidst the old compacted gravel and windswept forest litter. Each second that passes leaves my body tighter and tighter. Tense and on edge.

  The embassy is miles from the nearest Void depot. And hours from the closest human town. But at the blistering pace Nix sets, we might as well be running all the way to the human realm.

  By the time we reach the gate into Fent, my side aches and I can’t breathe without wheezing. Chol leans over, hands on his knees as he pants along with me.

  Nix remains annoyingly unwinded.