He waited for Corey to comprehend the meaning of his words. And she did. “If we escape through the other world, we might never get back to Allinan,” she voiced and gasped.
If they got past the guards on the other side of the borders, they might be free, but how would they ever find their way back? And Gan Krai had an army of Shalleyn at his command. At least, that was what he said. Plus, he was a Yutu-shifter. He could easily track them down and send his demons after them. How far would they get before he found them?
“Maybe there is another way…” As she was processing that fleeing now potentially meant running for the rest of her life, she was searching her mind for alternatives—any alternative was better than never seeing Wil, Maray, Jemin, and Heck again.
A pounding on the door alerted them that there wasn’t enough time to make a decision.
“Quick—” Feris motioned her back to his side. “He is back.”
The moment Corey’s backside touched the floor and her gaze of defiant innocence had steeled on her features, the door flew open, exposing the view on a face she had seen before in court.
“You didn’t think I was going to let you starve in here, sis.” Oliver Gerenhoff fashioned a smile so brilliant it hurt to look at it.
Going from perplexed to confusion and back, Corey tried to decipher the meaning of his words.
“Food?” He held up a tray loaded with Kaiser-rolls, butter, and berry jam.
“Thanks, Oliver,” Feris slowly got to his feet and walked to the door to get the tray, graciously allowing Corey to find her composure.
“What are you doing here?” Corey asked bluntly, wasting her adopted father’s efforts.
Oliver strode toward Feris, balancing the tray in one hand while using his free one to spin Feris around by the shoulder—he allowed the boy to do so—then continued with both to where Corey was slumping on the floor.
He pushed Feris in a sitting position, set down the tray beside him, and dropped to the floor, cross-legged, resting his hands on his knees, looking delighted. “The last time I saw you, you looked thoroughly guilty,” he noted.
Corey tasted venom in her mouth. “The last time I saw you, you were being an asshole to Maray,” she spat at him then lifted one hand to her chin, pretending to be thinking. “Wait… no… nothing has changed about that.”
Oliver broke into a laugh that seemed to come directly from his stomach rather than his lips. “I forgot how feisty you are.” He leaned to the side, picking up a roll and a knife, and held them up in front of him in a display of what was awaiting Corey. He shoved the knife into the bread and sliced it open with a grin.
Corey shrank away from him, her gaze darting sideways to seek help from Feris. The court warlock, however, watched the spectacle with calm eyes. “What flavor is it today?” he asked Oliver with a tone that was unlike the distressed tone Corey expected.
“Blackberry,” Oliver informed him without looking away from Corey. “Butter?”
Corey shrugged, unsure of what to make of Oliver’s behavior.
“Where is the other boy?” she asked, thinking of the blonde boy who usually brought them food.
“The Master thought it was time you got to know more of your brothers and sisters,” Oliver explained as he opened the roll and dipped the knife into a small butter dish.
“I don’t understand.” Corey watched him as he spread the butter on the bread then added a spoon of blackberry jam before he handed it to Feris.
“Here, old man,” he offered without dropping his grin.
Feris took the bread and bit into it, gesturing for Corey to relax.
“Oliver is the Master’s first claimed son,” Feris said as if it was not in the slightest disturbing. “His magic is strong, and he has the Master’s trust.”
As Feris spoke, things clicked into place in Corey’s mind. “You are a devil-child?” She couldn’t help staring at Oliver with a sense of pity.
“Like you, I have been blessed with the Master’s dark gift,” he confirmed, his white teeth flashing at Corey as his smile widened in recognition of her understanding.
“But you’re not an orphan,” Corey thought aloud. “Devil-children get murdered at infant age. Families leave them at orphanages’ doorsteps. They do anything to not have them around.” Bitterness constricted her heart. She had been left by her parents.
“My parents simply realized that it was noble to assist the Master by bringing up one of his future protégées.” Oliver shrugged. “They offered me to him when I was little.”
“And they were rewarded greatly,” Feris added, drawing a proud gaze from Oliver.
“My family’s business has been growing and flourishing ever since.” He reached down to fetch another Kaiser-roll, repeating the process he’d executed on the first, then offered it to Corey, who took it with a shaky hand. Why was Feris acting as if Oliver wasn’t an enemy?
Corey took a hesitant bite and chewed to gain some time, finally able to hold Oliver’s gaze. There was nothing there that indicated he wished her any harm.
“Brother,” she finally said, acknowledging that in a sense it was true, and his face lit up double while, internally, Corey wanted to run. She had seen the cruelty in his gaze when he had spoken to Maray without any disregard for her situation. But could it have been fear that drove him to act like that? Compassion struggled with fear in her chest.
“Sister.”
“If Gan Krai is claiming Maray for himself,” Corey asked, suddenly eager to understand. “Why did you apply for her hand? Wouldn’t that have been against his plan?”
Secretly, she was hoping to find out what Gan Krai’s plan was at all.
Oliver shook his head, face darkening a bit at the reminder of his failure. “Yes, I applied, and I am not proud I didn’t secure the Princess’ hand. The Master wasn’t pleased at all.” Subconsciously, he reached for his shoulder, an expression of pain crossing his features for the briefest of moments. “It would have sped up everything. But now that she didn’t come willingly, we will have to take her.”
Corey shuddered as the palms of his hands flickered with white flashes, a sign that magic was building up inside of him, threatening to brim from his hands uncontrollably.
Corey forced her face to keep a flawless composure. She knew what it meant to lose control over her own devil-magic. It was how she had burned Feris when she was a child. It was also how Maray had almost killed them all in the tunnels when they were on the rescue mission for Jemin. And yet, she needed to learn as much as she could while Oliver seemed willing to speak. “What do you mean, ‘take her’?”
Oliver blinked, his face suddenly blank. “I don’t know,” he realized to his own surprise.
Feris clapped the boy’s shoulder. “He’s under Gan Krai’s spell again,” he said to Corey who wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Oliver is so dedicated to Gan Krai that most of the time, there is no mind-control necessary,” he explained. “But I guess when he was about to spill the details of the evil master-plan, Gan Krai’s power kicked back in. Isn’t that right, Oliver?”
Oliver nodded and picked up another roll absently.
“What were we talking about?”
Corey watched as the Oliver, who had made eager conversation with her, disappeared into a shell of characterless smoothness and shimmer of the perma-anger he seemed to hold when in his role at court as he threw allegations at Maray to undermine her position with the council.
“Can he understand what we are saying?” Corey asked Feris, wondering what the boundaries of Gan Krai’s spell were and if an empty shell like that would be what she would soon become herself.
“Yes and no,” Feris said. “He is not quite himself. He is a puppet, and his mind isn’t his own. But it’s not like Gan Krai can listen in through his ears.”
“Will he remember when he returns to his normal self?”
Feris shook his head. “It’s a blessing in a sense.” He gave Corey a stern look. “When it happens to you… If it ha
ppens to you,” he corrected, “you’ll not be able to remember what you did during those periods of time you were under his spell. It will spare you a lot of pain.”
Painful wisdom replaced the ever-curious expression in Feris’ eyes.
“He’s done things to you, hasn’t he?” Corey concluded, but Feris didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. It was there in the uneasy twitch of his mustache, in the tension in his arms, and in the slump of his shoulders.
“Whatever he’ll make me do,” Corey promised, “I will resist him. I will not hurt you or Maray, or anyone else.”
Feris sighed, and a genuine smile appeared on his pressed lips. “I don’t think you’ll have much of a choice.”
Jemin
Heck’s footsteps were echoing along the hallway behind Jemin.
“I’m not going to let the Princess wait.” Jemin controlled his urge to snarl at Heck. It wasn’t Heck’s fault that Maray had chosen him. It was nobody’s fault, truly, but Allinan’s traditions’. The Allinan council simply preferred to have the prospect of an heir before the coronation, and that included a wedding. “She called for us, and I am going now.”
Maray hadn’t called on Jemin in what seemed like forever, but now that Pia had brought her message, it didn’t matter that it was before dawn. He was going even if it meant enduring watching Heck and Maray as they behaved more familiarly than Jemin had ever wanted to see them.
“You think I’ll let her wait?” Heck asked, appearing outraged. He had caught up with Jemin, his hands trembling as he was struggling to keep up the pace.
“Well, apparently you spend a lot of time away when she needs protection,” Jemin hissed in accusation. “Where were you exactly when Gan Krai attacked her in her own chambers?”
“Don’t tell me you’d rather have me in her chambers at night,” Heck growled.
Jemin jerked his arm forward in a frustrated motion as he realized what his accusation was implying. Of course he didn’t. If he knew Heck was spending his nights with Maray in her chambers, potentially sharing her bed the way he was soon going to once they were married, it would shatter his already broken heart beyond repair.
He quickened his pace and put enough distance between him and his best friend to arrive in Maray’s chambers and find her tossing under her blankets in a restless sleep before Heck could even enter the room.
“What’s wrong with her?” he asked Pia, who was sitting beside the Princess, hand checking her forehead.
“She’s been sleeping like this since Corey’s and Gan Krai’s projection,” Pia said with concern. “She only woke up for a moment to ask for you, then dove right back into her dreams.”
“Nightmares, it seems,” Jemin noted.
Heck pushed him forward as he stepped through the doors and shut them behind them.
“Do you think Gan Krai did something to her?” he asked, his voice full of affectionate concern. This tone from Heck’s lips sickened Jemin. It should be his job to ask those questions, not like a guard but like someone who was allowed to openly care for her.
“I don’t think so.” Pia shook her head. “She is exhausted and scared. An evil warlock just proposed to her through a holographic projection right after she learned that her best friend has fallen into his hand.”
“He did what?” Jemin darted forward and knelt at Maray’s side, finding himself shaking her shoulder.
“Jem,” Pia cautioned him, but it was too late. Maray’s eyes had popped open and locked on his. The instant their gazes met, his insides squirmed, cringing from the pain he was going to suffer every second he stood in her presence. He had promised her he was going to be strong enough. That he was going to stand by her side and protect her, and not fall victim to his own feelings. But now that her eyes softly and gently asked for him to shield her from the world, he now wasn’t so certain he had spoken the truth.
“Jem,” Maray repeated, her voice the opposite of Pia’s hiss. His hand on her shoulder jerked back as he noticed he was overstepping boundaries.
“I apologize.” He lowered his eyes, escaping Maray’s gaze, and slid aside to make way for Heck, who should be kneeling there in his stead.
“What can we do for you?” Heck asked, more practical in his thinking than Jemin.
Maray cleared her throat, returning to reality, and sat up, her blanket pulled up to her chin as if she was freezing.
“Corey,” she said as if that would explain everything. “You have to find her.”
Pia explained in a few quick sentences how she had tried to keep Maray from running out to rescue Corey herself earlier that night, and everything within Jemin’s body rebelled when he thought of Maray escaping from the protection of the palace to hunt down the warlock who was planning who-knew-what for her. The only thing he did know was that it couldn’t be good.
“Of course.” He gave her what she’d asked for, not thinking the consequences through.
Again, it was Heck who took the part of being practical. “And where should we start looking, Jem?” He gestured at the fireplace. “We have no clue where the projection originated from. We should involve Scott and Neelis,” he suggested.
“And wait until tomorrow when it might be too late for Corey?” Jemin asked, feeling that his urge to fulfill Maray’s request wasn’t purely triggered by his urge to please her but by his fear for his friend, who was facing Gan Krai all by herself.
Heck fell silent. He knew Jemin was right. “Then at least, let’s get help,” Heck said. “Seri could help track down Corey.”
“So can I,” Jemin reminded him that his shifter nose was in no way inferior to Seri’s just because she was Neelis’ Beta.
“I know.”
Something told Jemin that it would be better to go along with Heck’s wish, and he nodded briefly, already thinking of strategies on how to best find Corey.
“The Shalleyn who attacked us after your speech mentioned that he was bringing a message from Gan Krai directly,” Jemin said to Maray. “Maybe your father can help—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Maray shot him a desperate look.
“He knows more about Shalleyn and the informant network in the other world than any of us.” Heck admitted that it might be a good idea, and much to Maray’s dismay, the two boys together drew a nod of agreement from her.
“Wake him up, Pia, please,” she sent her handmaiden on an errand, and Pia’s gaze darted to seek Jemin’s with a silent warning.
“I know,” he said under his breath so only the shifter-girl could hear it. “I won’t forget again that Heck is Maray’s fiancé, not I.” His own words tasted bitter on his tongue.
Heck got back to his feet, his eyes wandering to the fireplace which was now so innocently sitting there. “That’s where Corey came from?” Heck asked.
“And Gan Krai,” Maray added, her pale complexion turning ashen at the memory of it.
“And he did what exactly?” Heck pushed.
Maray stole a sideways glance at Jemin, which sent his heart into an unjustified gallop.
“He proposed,” she whispered, now waiting for Heck’s reaction, but Heck didn’t seem remotely as disturbed by the fact as Jemin. “He basically told me that if I didn’t agree, he will open the rift between worlds and let the Shalleyn cross the borders.”
Jemin felt his body turn cold at her words. He knew what it meant. He knew the stories about the night of the first breach of dimensions. He knew the dreads people spoke about in hushed voices.
“We cannot let that happen,” Heck correctly responded.
“Why do you think I want to get Corey back now?” Maray asked, a glimmer in her eyes letting Jemin guess she had a plan.
Her expression, however, became more worrying by the second as she gnawed her lower lip in an obvious attempt to steal some time before she had to verbalize it. And while Heck patiently waited for her to gather her courage and spit it out, Jemin’s nerves tingled. He studied Maray’s face as her eyes blinked at an unnatural speed. Her hair wa
s hanging in tangles down to her shoulders and disappeared into the sheets with the rest of her body. Sweat from the strain of nightmares had pasted thin strands to her temples, making her look feverish, and her lips, now flushed from the pressure of her teeth, stood out against the white of her skin, reminding Jemin of the last time he had looked at them, her hot breath just an inch from his face.
“What is it, Maray?” he wondered aloud, words escaping in an unintentionally harsh tone. He evaded her gaze and got to his feet to save himself from the draw of her eyes, settling down in the closest armchair, putting all of his attention on the blue brocade flowers decorating its surface.
He felt both Maray’s and Heck’s eyes on him, and while the curtain of his outgrown hair graciously hid his face from them as he lowered his head in exasperation, his body was sure to give away his tension.
“It’s something I need to talk about to Heck,” Maray finally said, toneless, sending an avalanche of little daggers down on Jemin’s heart. That’s how it was going to be from now on. Heck was going to be the first and, sooner or later, only one who Maray would confide in—and with a fresh stab, he noted to himself that that was the way it was supposed to be between husband and wife: closest confidants, best friends, lovers.
He pushed himself up in a recklessly powerful motion and sent the chair sliding toward the wall behind him. “Let me know when you’re ready to rescue Corey.” And without another look at Heck or Maray, he leapt to the chair, forcefully pulled it back upright, and placed it where it had been with a clang that hurt his sensitive shifter-ears before he crossed the room in two long strides and was out the door.
Ambassador Johnson was headed toward Maray’s chambers in rushed steps, Pia at his heels, when Jemin stalked from the room, resembling a fuming cloud of smoke.
Two Worlds of Dominion Page 9