Dark Angel

by Kim Richardson

  “You chose a mortal whore over your own family, your own blood!” shouted Edwin, looking enraged. “He devoted years of his life to train you in elf magic. And you repay him by a scandal. By rebelling. You brought shame to this family, brother.” Edwin turned and chose to look at me then. “Seems you’re doing it again with this one.”

  Bastard . My pulse thundered. If Gareth didn’t punch him soon, I was going to clobber him.

  Gareth took a step forward, but another male elf jumped in. “That’s enough,” he said, and slunk between Gareth and Edwin, breaking their gazes on each other. “There’s no need for this. Let’s us all take a moment to calm down.” His hair was pulled back in a low ponytail that I hadn’t noticed before. He looked younger than Edwin, but older than Gareth and definitely a brother.

  For a long moment, Gareth looked at Edwin, unknown thoughts making his jaw clench and a dangerous light catch in his eyes.

  Silence. Gareth ran a hand over his face, his eyes far away, never really settling on anything. Edwin, well, he had the nerve to look at me like I was, well, trash.

  Gareth shook the tension from his shoulders and took a slow breath, looking shaken, but it was from repressing his anger, not fear. I wanted to reach out to him, but his brothers were in the way.

  My gaze fell on the female elf. I didn’t like what I saw on her face. Her smile was sour and showed a mild amusement and triumph.

  “If you choose to stay in this city with your kin,” said the High elf after a short silence, his voice softer. “I will let you live. You will still be an outcast, that will never change, but you can lead a peaceful life. If you refuse… you will die.”

  Gareth shook his head. “You know I won’t. Not after everything that’s happened.”

  “Gareth, don’t be stupid,” said his other brother with the ponytail. “You knew the risks by coming here.”

  “Asher. You know why I can’t stay here,” answered Gareth.

  Asher leaned towards his brother, his breathing quickened. “Do you want to live the rest of your life doing crap jobs and selling human medicine in this human city? What about your God-given gift? What about your family? Your people?”

  “My family died long ago,” said Gareth, and I held my breath at the pain in his voice. I hated seeing him like this. But I hated even more that I couldn’t do anything about it.

  Edwin’s permanent frown was cemented to his lightly wrinkled face. “Your family was always there. You chose to separate yourself.”

  “You excommunicated me,” Gareth all but snarled. “The entire community did. And because of what? Because I loved a human woman? I don’t want to be part of that kind of community.”

  “And where is your precious woman now?” Edwin’s tone was sour, and I hated the knowing expression on his face. “Where is she, eh? I heard it lasted but only a few years. All that scandal for nothing. You could have prevented this all together.”

  Gareth’s frown deepened, his expression frustrated. “You did this.”

  The High elf snarled, giving him an almost serpentine look. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t destroy you and your whore where you stand.”

  Gareth’s face was blank. “I don’t have one,” he said, and my breath escaped me.

  I leaned over, my blood pounding in my veins. “What are you doing?”

  “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry,” said the elf, through tight lips.

  “I am worried,” I hissed back, bewildered. What the hell was wrong with him?

  Gareth held his father’s gaze. “You exiled me all those years ago, High elf. But you’re still my father. I came because, after all these years, I thought maybe you would have changed. But I can see now that was a mistake.” Gareth turned to look at me. “I’m sorry, Rowyn.”

  My lips parted, but nothing came out.

  The High elf was pointing a shaking finger at Gareth, his lips pulled back into an ugly snarl. Finally, he said, “You are no son of mine,” spit flew from his mouth. “I shall have you both executed.” The High elf’s voice was final, making me shiver despite my anger.

  “Rowyn,” came Tyrius’s worried voice. “I don’t like this.”

  “Me either,” I answered, though the tremor in my voice betrayed me.

  Gareth’s lips curled back. “Don’t. Don’t do this.”

  “The law is the law.” The High elf smiled a snake’s leer. “You should have thought about that before you came here with them. Now, their deaths are on you. You will be executed along with your whore.”

  “Remind me never to come back,” I told Gareth, though my insides twisted. I thought I was going to throw up.

  “Guards,” the High elf called out.

  “Oh, shit,” I breathed. Fear galvanized me. This didn’t look good.

  The six elf guards looked unhappy about it, but they lined up around us, swords out, every movement in sync with the others.

  “Uh, Gareth,” I said, “this wasn’t part of our plan.”

  Gareth’s features twisted, his broad chest expanding and contracting, and he looked past me, towards his father, his fingers gripped into fists.

  “Father, if I may,” said Asher. “If Gareth agrees to—”

  “Be quiet!” howled the High elf as he pounded the armrest on his throne. “You may not,” growled the High elf. “I’ve made my decision.”

  I shot Gareth a look. “Gareth. Do something.” Was he truly going to let this happen?

  But the elf looked straight ahead at his father, venom practically dripping from his eyes.

  I stared at the High elf’s eyes, realizing we were going to die.

  We should have never come here.

  The High elf smiled his serpentine smile again. “You will die at sunrise. Take them away.”

  13

  As it turned out, Stormhold Castle had a dungeon. And yup, we were its newest tenants. We didn’t have to pay rent or anything. We’d just pay with our lives.

  We found ourselves in a room off a long hallway every bit as opulent as the others that lined it. Our prison cell was mostly a cavern with a dirt floor and walls—no windows, just rows of wrought iron bars that looked like pure silver and gave off a purple glow. Across from our cell was a glass box with what I suspected to be purple elf dust shimmering on the wall like a dim light fixture. The light was subtle, but it was all we had, leaving our prison comfortably dim without being dark.

  Nine feet from ceiling to floor and about twenty feet wide, most of the walls were natural stone, cold, wet, and gross. Piles of old blankets and bloodstained clothes had served as a bed for the tenants before us. Across from me was a stack of bones. Probably the remains of the tenants before us.

  The smell was the worst, like years of accumulated piss and feces and rotten meat. I breathed through my mouth. You would too.

  My butt was getting cold and numb from sitting on the floor for so long. I’d slid down after my useless attempt of hacking at the silver bars with my soul blade.

  “You’re wasting your time,” Tyrius had said after half an hour of hitting and sawing the bars with my blade. His eyes gleamed in the semi-darkness like two blue moons. “You can’t cut through silver forged with elf magic. It’s like trying to drill a hole through granite with a sewing needle. It’s pointless.”

  Stranger still was that the elf guards had stripped Gareth of his elf dust but had let me keep my blades. The elves had known my soul blades were no match for their prison equipment with magic bars. We were screwed.

  The cell was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Tyrius and I could pick locks with our eyes closed, and yet, after searching everywhere, running my fingers over every single silver bar, I couldn’t find a lock nor a door to our cell. I don’t even remember having seen the bars when they pushed us in the room. They just sort of appeared when I turned around. “Elf magic,” Tyrius cursed again and then spat. Guess he couldn’t do anything about it either.

  An awful feeling of dread settled in me, and my gut clenched. But I was angri
er with myself. We didn’t get the dragon’s breath and now in a few hours we were going to be executed.

  Excellent. Best trip ever.

  The elf scent of sulfur mixed with lavender pressed into me musty and sharp. Tension pulled through me, and I took a calming breath. No need to have a freak-out. I needed to think, to come up with a plan to get out of here.

  I heard Tyrius’s tsk before I realized he was lying flat on his stomach on the floor next to our jail bars, his ears swiveling back and forth, listening.

  “Any luck?”

  A tired sound escaped the cat. “I’m sorry, Rowyn,” he said as a deep frown appeared on his furry face. “There are wards protecting this cage from my own magic. I can’t pick a lock I can’t see. We’re screwed.” His sour mood matched mine.

  “It’s not your fault, Tyrius.” I sighed, letting my head fall back against the cold wall. “There’s got to be another way out.”

  Tyrius scrambled to his feet. “You know any spells to blast away rock?”

  “I wish.”

  “I told you, you’re wasting your time and energy,” came Gareth’s voice from across the cell.

  I glared at him, though his eyes were closed, his head resting on the wall behind him. “You,” I seethed. “You shouldn’t even be talking. You got us into this mess. And you did nothing while your father threw us in here to die.”

  Gareth bobbed a brow. “Do you trust me?”

  “No.”

  “Rowyn.”

  “Gareth.”

  Head bowing, Gareth opened his eyes to look at me. “Be patient. It’ll all be okay.”

  “Oh, really?” I was going to kick his insufferable ass. “Okay, then, Master Yoda. How about you do some of your Jedi tricks and remove these damn bars!”

  “I can’t.” The light from the silver bars showed the lines around his eyes. The hint of weariness in his eyes shifted to warmth as he took in my irritated expression.

  I bit my tongue to stop the relationship-damning words from flying out of my mouth. Because once they were out, I couldn’t magic them back in. There was no undo button in the real world, though I really wished there was right about now.

  “Don’t worry,” soothed Gareth. “I’m telling you. It’ll be fine.”

  “Be fine?” I growled, shaking under the temptation to kick him. “How can it be fine? Sunrise is in less than two hours. I’m not dying in this shithole. You hear me?”

  “We’re not going to die,” he said, his voice calm and controlled, which only made me more furious.

  “How can you be so calm?” I yelled, and then I crossed my arms over my chest. “I should kick your ass. That’s what I should do. Tyrius—stop eating spiders!”

  The cat turned around, thin spider legs still wiggling from his lips. “What?” he swallowed. “Protein. I’m starving here! Would you rather see me starve to death?”

  I let out a frustrated breath. I was starving too, which probably accounted for some of my temper. Low blood sugar or something.

  The faint sound of running feet broke the stillness. My heart pounded.

  Oh. Shit.

  “It’s not even sunrise!” shrilled Tyrius. Bits of spider flew from his mouth as he jumped to his feet, his ears and tail flicking.

  I leapt to my feet, soul blade ready as I gripped it in my hand. I wouldn’t let them take me without a fight. Gareth still sat on the floor, unmoving.

  “Gareth,” I hissed under my breath and then glared. “What’s the matter with you?” I was going to kick his ass, the rest be damned. I knew it. I felt it in my bones.

  Muscles tight, I waited, crouched in a fighting stance with my heart thrashing wildly in my chest.

  The sound of feet neared, and then Asher appeared at the bars, a smile on his face.

  He looked past me over to Gareth. “You all right there, little brother?”

  Gareth got to his feet slowly. “Never better,” he said, as he stretched. “Though a beer would have been nice.” Grinning, he reached out through the bars to grab his brother’s arms at the elbow in some secret greeting, handshake man thing.

  Mind racing, I straightened and stared at this exchange, not knowing what to think anymore.

  “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on!” cried the cat. “I’m starting to shed!”

  Asher’s smile widened, and kindness shone in his eyes. I really saw the resemblance to his brother now. “You have the key?” he asked, his stance confident and casual.

  Gareth let go of his brother and turned to me. “Rowyn, can you give me your necklace, please.”

  No. Freaking. Way. “It’s a key?”

  Gareth’s smile was breathtaking. “It’s a key.”

  “That sneaky elf bastard,” beamed Tyrius, his front canines showing. “You’ve been wearing a key to this hell hole this whole time and you didn’t even know it. It’s awesome.”

  It was my turn to smile. I pulled out the brilliant white stone from under my shirt, enjoying the warmth against my skin and the light it gave off between my fingers. It wasn’t just pretty. It was a key. The key to our freedom.

  I was going to jump my hot elf when we got out of here.

  “But? How? I don’t…” Now I sounded like a blabbering idiot.

  “That stone around your neck isn’t just a regular stone,” answered Asher, his dark eyes intent. “Elf stones are magical. They’re rare and precious. One of the reasons is because they protect you from elf dust. They can absorb it.”

  I glanced down at the stone, only now realizing how the elf dust got in there. It was absorbed.

  Asher shifted his weight. “You see. Elf stones have been used for generations as master keys to unlock magical doors or any protection ward by absorbing and removing its magic, the elf dust.”

  My eyes rested on Gareth. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Gareth shook his head. “I couldn’t. My father would have seen it in your eyes. He would have guessed you had an elf stone. I couldn’t risk it.” He took a breath. “You still mad at me?”

  “Not anymore.” I slipped the necklace over my head and gave him the stone.

  “Thank you,” he said and then handed it to his brother through the silver bars.

  Asher moved to the opposite side of the wall to the small glass box mounted there and filled with purple elf dust I’d noticed before. He pressed the stone against the box, said a few words in Elvish, and stepped back.

  “It’s happening. I’m getting the feels everywhere,” said Tyrius as he stood stalk still, looking like a taxidermy cat.

  The elf stone shimmered and glowed, turning from white to a deep purple. There was a flash of brilliant white light followed by the overwhelming scent of lavender. I closed my eyes and looked away from the light for a moment.

  And when I opened my eyes, our prison bars were gone. So was the purple elf dust in the box.

  “Hot diggidy dam!” exclaimed Tyrius as he bounded out of our cell. “Hate elven magic, but that was cool.”

  I had to agree. I looked at Gareth and the smug smile on his face. “You’re lucky it worked ‘cause I was about this close—” I made a gesture with my thumb and index finger, “to kicking your ass.”

  Gareth laughed, and then so did I. Damn. I was in serious trouble.

  “This is yours.” Asher handed me back my stone.

  I held it close and examined it. Not even a scratch. Satisfied, I slipped the necklace over my head just as Asher stuck out his hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Rowyn,” he said. “I just wish it were under better circumstances.”

  “No worries.” I shook his hand, feeling a surge of gratitude. “I’d kiss you, but I don’t think your brother would like that.”

  Asher laughed. “No. No he wouldn’t.”

  Tyrius rolled his eyes. “Please. Enough with the flirting. Will you? We’re supposed to be getting the hell out of here.”

  There was a short silence and then Gareth said, “You brought the dragon’s breath?”


  My heart did a little flip. Tyrius’s mouth worked but nothing came out.

  From the folds of his jacket, Asher retrieved a small glass vial filled with a red, powdery substance. “It’s all I could find. I hope it’s enough to save your friend.”

  Gareth took the vial and dropped it in a coat pocket. “There’s enough. Thanks, brother.”

  Asher smiled without showing any teeth. “You have to hurry. You have about forty-five minutes before the guards realize you’re gone. Make it count.”

  Gareth pulled his brother into a hug. “You come see me next time you’re in town. We’ll go for a beer.”

  Asher blinked rapidly. “Yeah.” His faint smile carried old pain.

  God, even my eyes started to burn.

  “What about your father?” I asked.

  “I’ve said my piece,” answered the elf as he pulled away from his brother. “There’s nothing more I can do for him. My brothers will look after him.”

  “He hasn’t always been this way,” said Asher, his face grave. “He’s changed since our mother passed. He never got over her death.”

  Gareth looked away for a moment, but I didn’t understand what I saw on his face. “Let’s get out of here.” He pressed his hand against my lower back, his tension making his movements rough and hard. There was something final in the way he’d said that, like this was the last time he’d ever come back.

  My pace was fast as I darted out through the cold, musty gloom of our cell.

  I smiled, my pulse spiking. Perhaps we’d been lucky after all.

  14

  The sun was arching upward in the sky, painting the inside of Evanora’s shop in yellows and oranges. Dust particles swirled around us like snow and I had to resist the urge to cover my face.

  Gareth had instructed us to open the curtains and the widows to let the sun in so he could perform his healing magic on Danto with the newly acquired dragon’s breath.

  Evanora had been waiting for us when we all burst into her shop. The witch was still up, waiting by the dying vampire, who she’d carefully covered with a thick wool blanket with another rolled up rag tucked under his head. For an old witch, she was pretty tough. Again, I was impressed but also curious as to why she even cared. But I didn’t have time to worry about that now.