Malicious Envy (Sins of Proteus Book 1)

by Kitt Rose

  Then Libby threw her head back, crying out as she broke apart around me. I followed her into oblivion an instant later.

  31

  Ash

  Something was wrong. I knew it before I opened my eyes. The smell was off. Instead of laundry detergent and the usual fragrances, there was only the scent of must and mildew.

  Gooseflesh rippled across my skin.

  I shouldn't be chilly. But something wet and cold was against my back. Reflexively, I drew my limbs in toward my body. Or tried to, but they were spread wide. Something hard and unyielding holding me immobile.

  That was when I realized I wasn't in bed and opened my eyes.

  Libby was the first thing I saw. Something inside eased a little that she was unharmed.

  She was in one of my shirts, on a cot. The mattress beneath her thin and bare, a dirty yellow floral print. The cement wall behind her was damp, water marks staining it in dark streaks.

  I looked around. I was chained to a wall, iron shackles on my wrists and ankles. This place was familiar.

  The old feral cells. Just outside of town limits.

  They had stopped using the cells more than a decade ago. Once, they had been used to contain the rare Protean who reverted to pure animal instinct during a shift. It happened in advanced age or extreme grief. The cells would keep them from harming anyone, including themselves, until they shifted back to human.

  Evidently the building still existed. And Greg had brought us here.

  I had no idea how it happened, how Greg had gotten us out of the house. But I knew it was Greg Clayton. The scent of him was everywhere. I wanted to kick myself for not recognizing it on the witch. It was so obvious now.

  “Libby,” I said.

  When she didn't stir, I tried a little louder.

  At the sound of footsteps overhead, I froze and fell quiet. A door creaked open, and heavy footfalls sounded on the stairs.

  Libby jolted awake. She looked around, frantic. Her eyes wide and wild with fear. When she saw me, chained to the wall, she sagged back to the mattress in relief.

  “Oh, good, you're both awake,” Greg said from the foot of the stairs.

  Both Libby and I jerked toward the cell door at the sound of his voice.

  Greg strolled over, head held high.

  I suppressed a growl, feeling it vibrate in my throat.

  “I'm trying to decide which would be worse,” Greg said with a smile. “Torture your mate in front of you, then kill her. Of course, you'd join her immediately after. Or, and this one might be a stroke of genius, I could make her my mate. It had been my plan originally. A simple love spell and a bite, and she'd be mine. Making you watch me claim her would be so satisfying. You'd die knowing your mate was mine. I'm not quite sure which is worse for you. I need to think about it a bit. She's probably not worth the effort. Certainly, isn't all that much to look at.”

  Now I couldn't hold back the growl. Hatred grew as a black tide inside my chest.

  Laughing under his breath, Greg turned away.

  And then the air in the room electrified.

  The power was tangible. And nearly suffocating.

  Libby sat straight up, head swiveling. Her eyes… They were wrong. The brown drained away until they were nearly white and crackling with power.

  With a grace Libby had never shown signs of possessing, she rose, gliding to the door of the cell. Her hair floated around her in a wild halo, utterly defying gravity. Lit from within, her skin glowed with a pale pearl luminescence.

  “Gregory Tracy Clayton,” she said in a monotone voice that was clearly male. The voice was deep, the inflection and accent foreign. And it echoed in the cell strangely.

  The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

  “You will not survive to see the dawn,” she continued in that invader's voice.

  Greg laughed, but the sound was nervous. “What the fuck is this?”

  Libby raised one arm and pointed at him. “I know all your secrets. We see you and those that conspire against us. Your judgment will be swift. Your restitution eternal.”

  Time seemed to stand still when the voice stopped. Then, like a marionette with its string cut, Libby collapsed in a heap.

  I strained away from the wall, the skin of my wrists screaming as the shackles cut into my flesh. I screamed in frustration, rattling the chains and pulling against my bonds. But it was no use, I couldn't get to her.

  Greg stared down at Libby's form, face pale. Then he shook his head, shrugged. “Your mate is seriously fucked up. I've got things to do to prepare. Don't go anywhere.” Greg giggled, the sound drenched in madness, then turned and disappeared up the stairs.

  “Libby,” I yelled, not caring if Greg heard me or not.

  She didn't respond at first. I tugged at my bonds one at a time. Somehow, I had to get out of them. If I had a chance of breaking them, the shackles on my legs would be my best bet. Or perhaps I could shift.

  But I'd need to shift into something big.

  During my transformation, the actual moment the power in my blood swept through my veins, I was impervious to pain. For those few seconds, I was invulnerable. Shifting into something larger took longer, but those moments of being immune to pain and damage should be enough to pop the shackles.

  But the form would have to be large enough to push the metal past their limits. There was only one form large enough,

  A dragon then…

  I would need to control the size of it. The cell's ceiling was low, its walls close. But the tips of dragon's scales were like knives. If I wasn't very careful, I could end up hurting the woman I was determined to rescue.

  “Libby. Sweetheart,” he said again.

  This time, she roused.

  Slowly she sat up, blinked at me, looking dazed. It took a long moment for her eyes, once again a familiar warm brown, to focus. And then she sprang to her feet and rushed over.

  She cupped my cheeks. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, are you?”

  A deep frown line appeared between her eyebrows. “I think so. I'm not sure what happened, but I could feel… Something. It felt like I was trapped in my own body. And… Ash, I think whatever it was, it's been with me a long time. It felt familiar.”

  I blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “For as long as I can remember, I've heard voices. That sounds crazy, but I mean, I always thought they were my subconscious. Like my inner voice, you know? When I was about to do something stupid or asked a question, sometimes a voice would answer, or tell me not to do it. Or to do it. Recently, it's been Justice's voice I hear. Do you think… Johnny thought maybe it was the prophecy part of being your mate.”

  Fuck, but it bothered me that she'd confided in Johnny and not me. I tried not to let it show, but she must have seen something in my face.

  Libby frowned. “It's not like that. I only told him because I had to make him believe me. Had to make him go after you and Elliot. I was afraid that if I didn't tell him, he wouldn't go. And, honestly, the voice told me to tell him.”

  I stared at her. She held my gaze, fear bright in her eyes.

  I had to do something. Had to erase that fear. The Alpha inside demanded it.

  “I was thinking... I can shift into a larger form. Something big enough to snap these.” I rattled the shackles. “But I don't want to scare you.”

  Libby grabbed my face again, planting a kiss on my mouth that was nearly bruising. “You won't scare me. I know what you are. I know who you are. And I know that you love me. I love you, Ash. Do what you need to.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. Go to the other side of the cell. I'm going to shift into a dragon. It's going to take a lot of concentration to keep it small enough. But my scales will be very sharp. I don't want to hurt you so please, stay clear.”

  Libby nodded, retreating to the cot. She backed into it, climbing on to press her back against the wall.

  When she was settled, I reached down into myself, into that well o
f power.

  I couldn't help but be afraid that this would be like the last time. Afraid that I would be blocked from changing.

  But that wasn't the case.

  My Protean side responded. It rose up inside me like an irrepressible tide. And I welcomed it, letting the flood of power rush over me.

  32

  Libby

  I wasn't scared of Ash. Not even when he started to shift. In only a pair of boxers, it was easy to see the blue-black light that seemed to start in his chest, and radiate outward tracing through his veins. It was like sunlight through deep water, shimmering under the surface. Then his skin started to roll across his bones in sickening waves. His legs thickened and shrunk, growing shorter.

  It wasn't like the shift to wolf that my father had done. This was slow. Painful to watch.

  Bones broke with audible snaps and pops. Ash moaned low in his throat. This shift was too slow for my comfort. It was painful to watch.

  Finally, he began to grow. His form bloating up and outward.

  His wrist shackles snapped with a dull groan and pop. A moment later, the ones around his ankle gave way.

  And he was free.

  But he didn't stop the shift as I'd expected. He kept going, expanding to fill the cell. I pulled my knees to my chest, trying to ensure I wasn't in his way.

  Scales formed along his body, the skin raising to form what looked like welts, that solidified and changed color. Silver and grey. Dull like unpolished metal, with gleaming edges.

  His head was almost at the ceiling when that began to change.

  I had to look away.

  It was grotesque, the way his eyeballs bulged. How his nose stretched.

  I shuddered and squeezed my eyes shut.

  Long seconds passed before I heard a low rumble. I peeked open one eye, bracing myself for the worst. But he was done. His shift was over, and in his place, crouched a dragon.

  He was the size of a truck, with a long thick neck and wings tucked tight to his back. His scales were about the size of my palm, in varying shades of grey and silver. They were textured. Like the bark of a tree.

  As I stared, with my mouth open in awe, the dragon turned his head to look at me.

  His eyes… Ash's eyes stared back at me. The same violet, but with oblong pupils.

  I recognized him behind those eyes.

  Carefully, I climbed down from the bed and edged my way to stand in front of him.

  “You're beautiful,” I whispered. Because he was.

  Tentatively, I touched his nose. His scales were almost hot under my fingers.

  Ash exhaled and my hair flew out around me. A laugh bubbled free and, in my awe, I momentarily forgot where we were and how terrible the situation was.

  Ash snorted. Almost a dragon's version of a laugh and nosed me gently to the side.

  What was he doing?

  There was a soft hiss, then a click sounded. Ash's mouth opened, and he belched fire. A stream of insanely hot, blue-white flame poured from his mouth.

  He directed the stream of fire to the cell door, somehow narrowing the flame like a blowtorch.

  “You're melting the lock.” The amount of power that Ash possessed was stunning. That he could shift into this creature and do that. It was amazing.

  I strained my ears, trying to hear past the roar of fire. I didn't know what Greg could do, how much magic he knew. What would happen if he came down and saw Ash doing this?

  Something else occurred to me then, and I stiffened. How had Greg gotten us? Last I knew, we'd made love. I'd gone to clean up, slipped on Ash's shirt and a pair of panties. It hadn't taken me long to fall asleep after that. Safe in Ash's bedroom, his arms around me, I'd let the horrors of the day go and let the oblivion of sleep claim me.

  Escaping into dreams kept me from thinking about what I'd told Ash. Not about Sarah. No matter how much I wished I could avoid the conversation, I knew at some point he would have had to learn about my baby and my aversion to having more. No, it was the fact that in the heat of the moment I'd told him I loved him.

  I did. No question.

  I loved Asher Stefan with an intensity that scared the ever-loving shit out of me.

  The way I felt wasn't romantic. It certainly wasn't pretty. It was messy and raw, consuming. But I couldn't change it. And if I was being honest with myself—if I could push past the fear—I didn't want to change it.

  Being with him, being his, felt like the most right thing I could do. My future was with him.

  If I still had a future. If we still had a future. If he could get us out of here.

  There were so many ifs. Including how we had gotten here. And what did that mean for our family and friends.

  Johnny, Papa, Gigi, Elliot, Tobias, Lila, Izzy, Caleb, and their daughter Sarah had all been there. That was a lot of Protean ears and eyes to get past. And from what I had seen, there hadn't been a mark on Greg.

  So now, the question was, were they all still alive? And if they were, would Ash and I live to see them again?

  33

  Ash

  The lock was nearly melted, but the sustained flame was really taking its toll on me. I'd never been so tired. Shifts were not taxing in and of themselves. But shifting into a form usually required a certain amount of letting the magic have its way.

  I couldn't risk it this time, so I'd held tight control over this shift, forcing the dragon into the size limitations required.

  Transforming into the dragon was harder to start with. The sheer size demanded more from my body. But I went against nature and miniaturized the creature. Even now, the dragon strained at the limits I'd imposed on it.

  Libby was huddled on the cot, arms wrapped around her knees. I was half afraid she would never see me the same way again, and that was distracting me.

  The wolf had scared her enough, but this was an animal that didn't exist in the world anymore. It was alien.

  Still, she had said the form was beautiful. It was true. I'd always thought the dragon form was particularly spectacular.

  The flame wavered, flickering and sputtering, and I forced my mind back to the task at hand. I was tired. I couldn't afford to be distracted if this was going to work.

  And it had to work.

  Libby had just admitted that she loved me. I finally had what I wanted—Libby, all of her. And now that I knew what she had been through, I could help her work through it. Move past it.

  I wasn't convinced she would ever change her mind about kids, but I hadn't lied when I told her it didn't matter. So long as I had her.

  And maybe we could adopt.

  The flame spat again, and I forced my fatigued and wandering mind back again, sagging in exhaustion.

  Just a little bit more. I was almost there.

  The metal of the lock was red and sagging. And then it gave way.

  Relief was a buoy inside, rising quickly to the surface as I let the flow of flame stop.

  Libby jumped to her feet and started toward the door, edging carefully around me. She reached for the far side of the door, well away from the super-heated metal. One hard push and the door groaned, slowly swinging open.

  A sense of victory swelled inside me.

  And then something snapped in the air. The smell of ozone sudden and heavy in the air. And the door slammed shut with a deafening bang.

  Libby gasped, stumbling backward into me.

  There was no way to avoid her, and she hit my snout, bouncing off and sliding to the floor. I smelled the coppery tang of blood and heard her yelp in pain.

  She was holding her forearm, red welling between her fingers. Then the sound of footsteps announced Greg, and I looked back to the door to see the lock was unmarred. As if I hadn't just spent an hour melting through it.

  Greg clapped slowly, his feet hitting the stairs in time.

  When he hit the foot of the stairs, he wagged one finger. “Naughty, naughty. Valiant effort, but worthless. Did you forget, or are you just that stupid? My great-uncle hired the coven
to make these cells impenetrable decades ago.”

  I had forgotten. Self-loathing flashed through me. I was stupid, so stupid. I'd wasted so much energy.

  The fatigue and self-defeat worked against my control, and I lost hold of the dragon shape. My body began the shift back to human.

  An entire colony of fire ants started to consume me as my scales melted back into human flesh. I'd never felt this kind of pain with a shift before. Not ever. And I was too weak to do anything about it.

  Through the haze of my pain, I heard Greg talking, taunting me. But the words rolled over me and hopelessness rushed in.

  I had no idea how long I writhed on the floor before I was once again human. Sweating uncontrollably and weak. Too weak.

  I blinked up at the ceiling, trying to slow my breathing.

  Libby appeared above me, her hair a curtain around a very concerned face. I wanted to reach up and smooth the line between her eyebrows, but my arms didn't want to move. Her face disappeared, and her arms hooked awkwardly under me, pulling my head and shoulders up and into her lap.

  Her scent filled my nose, and my breathing finally started to slow.

  “Hey,” she murmured. “It's okay. He's gone.”

  Libby glanced up and toward the cell door. I tried to move my head to look, but lightning bolts of agony shot down my neck.

  Why am I so weak? “Why… why am I…?”

  “Why are you so tired?” she finished.

  “Yeah.”

  “It's the spell. Greg said the witches put a spell on the lock. It was meant to sap your strength, absorb whatever was thrown at it and redirect that energy toward reinforcing the cell door. It's brilliant, but I really want to hurt whoever thought it up right about now.”

  I laughed, the sound nothing more than a weak wheezing noise.