“So you’re planning on bringing her back to the castle?” I ask, a mix of surprise and trepidation settling in the bottom of my stomach.
“We will face Lithael – but he can’t kill any of us outright. Not openly. Without the bubble, and with access to whatever it is she’s doing with magic, and if they consider her a Saber and not a servant, we can keep her safe. She’s in just as much danger out here as she would be in there, and once we have control of the castle, she’ll actually be safer with us. Classes will be fine, training too – all of that will be good for her. And when we’re challenged to tournament, we’ll put her somewhere safe.”
I groan. “That didn’t work so well the first two times, brother. It’s a bad idea.” And a good one at the same time.
Seth clears his throat a little too loudly. “How are any of you three going to live with her?”
I look down at my own seal, aging at the same rate as Pax’s, Seth’s, and Killian’s. The clock is ticking.
“More sigils,” Seth suggests, having no idea how impossible that sounds. Like putting a single sapling in the desert and expecting it to survive.
But Pax nods. Long, slow head movements.
“The sigil is helping. If she were stronger, things would be different. If she could look after herself just a little bit, I might have time to work things out.” His fingers stroke through her tangled hair as he talks. The room is heavy with the desire to protect. “But she’s so fragile, and our seconds are limited. How long do we have?”
I’m sure he just did the math himself, but I confirm it anyway. “Until our seals dissolve? About two days, give or take. They’re never exact.”
He shakes his head, so I try again.
“Her bubble? I don’t know. I can’t work out why it’s shrinking. It’s got no rhyme or reason.”
“Is she safe in here from Hyll?” Pax asks, Thane growling behind the words.
I scrub a tired hand down my face. “I’ll double the magic. Eydis has a potion up there to add a key to her wards. If we use that, I won’t have to leave the domain and personally escort every triune in, and that will save time. No one would be able to get in without a key.”
“Do it,” Pax orders.
“How’s Thane handling it?” Seth asks.
“I know she will never fully be my mate. Thane does too. He’s a bit more stubborn about how we can overcome that hurdle, but I’m pretty sure he’ll accept the fact that this is as close as we’ll ever be.” Pax pauses, his brow creasing like Thane is saying something. “Yes, you will. We’ve talked about this,” he says to the wolf.
His eyes flash gold, accompanied by a deep growl, then settle again, enough to let Pax talk. “You can’t make her strong enough. No matter how much you try, she’s no stronger than a mortal,” Pax says, before continuing with our conversation, “And that makes keeping her alive all the more important. Demanding. Desperate.”
The room takes a collective sigh. All of us looking at the sleeping Kitten, lying with her head in the lap of a wolf.
“And it is making her ability to get herself into trouble so much more irritating,” he grumbles, his eyes flashing yellow in agreement. “We should get to work now, then eat, and sleep tonight. We’re dangerously close to needing it, and I don’t want to leave her unguarded once more Sabers begin to arrive.”
Seth claps his hands, making Kitten stir and roll over, nuzzling her face into Pax’s crotch.
“Mallow,” she mumbles.
Pax inhales sharply, slipping from beneath her with a muffled groan, and sticking a cushion under her head.
“Sorry,” Seth whispers, standing up. “What’s a mallow?”
“A man-pillow,” I answer.
“When do I get to be one?”
I ignore him. “Seth, stay with her. I need a break. I’ll bring you down some books.”
He moves to settle back into the couch, saying, “I can do that. Mallow time.”
“No, over there,” Pax orders, pointing to the single seat that Killian was in before he went hunting.
“My power isn’t going to hurt her, brother.”
“Concentrate,” Pax’s chest rumbles, then takes himself and his ignited lust out of the house. “We all need to concentrate.”
Seth watches him leave, then looks between his ordered seat and Kitten. Pax has let him choose – and the guy isn’t great at choices that aren’t impulsive. I almost laugh at the frown on his face, waiting for Seth to look my way. Waiting for his full attention before I start talking.
It takes a beat, and I’m pretty sure he’d almost forgotten I was here. Then he raises a questioning eyebrow.
“We’re running out of time. Even if Thane was at full power, none of us have more than a one week window from the moment our Release Seals dissolve to the time our souls ripping free from our bodies becomes very real. We can’t fight the Return Seal’s pull for long. If I break that time up, we have to reverse this bubble, organize a rebellion, and ride back to the castle. Then deal with Lithael’s temper tantrum and whatever punishment he is going to try and demean us with. On top of that, I don’t even know how that sigil on Pax’s chest has changed things; he might be weaker – might run out of the ability to fight the Return Seal quicker than usual. And there’s Eyv. Lithael can’t attack us in the castle, but Eyv can bloody try.”
Dealing with the potions might be our top priority, but it’s not the only thing on our plate.
“None of this is easy, brother,” Seth says, his eyes lowering to Kitten on the couch. Then he turns and drags the single seat closer to her.
I know there’s more to his sentence, something he’s left unsaid.
None of this is easy, but we’re still going to do it anyway.
Eleven Paces
When I stir, it’s dark. The night outside the window is lit up by a large fire burning beside the stream, where Killian’s carrying an armload of really big logs to the edge of the licking flames. Then one by one, he tears them apart with his bare hands.
I’m mesmerized by how easily he rips them in two. Who needs an axe?
Roarke’s nearby in one of the chairs, and Seth’s in the other. Both are reading, or rather, flicking through pages with grim determination, with piles of books on the floor beside each of them. Roarke has made stacks of three or four books, all tilting into each other. Seth has one tall stack in order of size and perfectly straight.
What surprises me is the fact that Seth can read at all, and the realization makes me feel a little inadequate around them. Not that I thought my Sethy couldn’t read – just that I thought we had the most in common, and I can’t read at all…
I nudge that thought aside as I stretch and push myself up from the couch. Pax’s gone, and I can’t see him anywhere inside or outside.
“Where’s Pax?” I croak.
Both guys stop what they’re doing and look up to watch me yawn and run my good hand through my hair. The pinky on my broken arm is twitching, and I groan, holding it in place with my other hand.
Roarke leans towards the window and taps on it a few times.
“What was that for?” I ask, but my sleepy voice makes it sound more like another groan.
At least my headache is gone.
“Where’s Pax?” Internally adding, and Thane.
I won’t lie, being Pax’s mate just got a lot scarier.
Scary like knowing Lord Martin is in a bad mood, but not knowing exactly where he is – and at the same time not scary, like when Lord Martin travels into Drayden, and the servants have the Manor all to ourselves.
“Looking for the Spring,” Roarke says.
I nod. That’s all I needed to know.
Killian’s big steps echo all the way up to the door, then stop. After a moment, he lets himself inside, taking much softer steps with only his socks on.
I pull my legs up underneath me and watch him advance, my skin prickling, because I know he’s in here to do something to me, and I’m not keen on the idea. I’m even huggin
g my arm to my chest.
“Give me your arm,” he says softly, sitting sideways on the couch beside me.
It’s the soft tone of his voice that slips under my defenses and makes me hold my arm out like a good little injured servant. My heart beats a little faster than it should – Killian talking softly is as unnerving as it is calming.
Then my finger twitches again.
“Why’s it doing that?” I ask.
“Just a muscle. I’ll relax it,” he says.
Seth goes back to his book, but Roarke flips the big red hardcover in his hands shut.
“She’s fine,” Killian grunts at him.
I run my fingers back through my hair again, snagging on knots, as Killian starts untying the splint, and Roarke crosses the room to his bag.
My stomach growls, followed swiftly by Seth, with the book still open and being scanned as he walks, shoving a jar of nuts into my lap.
I start eating, chewing each one slowly. Roarke returns with a brush in his hand, and slides onto the couch behind me to pull it through my knotted hair.
My Darkness runs his thumb down the inside of my arm, stopping to knead deep into the muscle until he releases exactly the right spot to stop the twitch in my pinkie. I sigh – that was getting really annoying.
I’m not sure which hurts worse. Roarke working the knots from my hair or Killian working the knots from my muscles.
Three of my guys are here with me, and Pax’s out in the dark looking for the Spring. But technically we’ve an extra member that I never knew existed before.
“What about Thane?” I ask, very tentatively. “How does that work?”
“They’re the same being,” Roarke says. “Same body, same soul.”
“But two names?” I press.
“Two threads,” Killian adds, pressing hard near the crook of my elbow.
I wince, squeeze my eyes shut, and almost chuckin’ cry. Almost, but not quite.
“Two streams of consciousness.”
I wait a beat, hoping Roarke will realize I have no idea what that means.
“They think independently. When Pax is a man, Thane can talk to him in his mind, but Pax has to talk to Thane out loud. When Thane takes over, and they’re all wolf, Pax’s words are almost lost in the wolf’s impulses. They rely on a balance that exists between them. On shared rules.”
Rules, that sounds like Pax. Killian hesitates, his thumb sitting lightly on my wrist.
Roarke stills.
“What?” I ask, not even sure I want to know the answer.
“You can’t use my power anymore. I don’t know what kind of damage you’re doing to yourself,” Roarke says.
“You can’t be serious. How am I going to stop doing something that just happens on its own? That’s like trying to stop a sneeze or the damn hiccups.” I hiss as Killian presses into the muscle at my wrist, stretching it forwards towards my hand.
“You compelled Pax to answer you,” Roarke continues. “You ripped the information from his mind.”
I chuff at him. He makes it sound so much more amazing than it was. I just asked. I was freaking out, and I asked a question. That’s it.
Roarke plays with the ends of my hair, pulling everything tight, before letting it go. A little pang of regret radiates through my chest – does he have to stop? Can’t he keep going? A little more – or forever?
Trying not to pout, I run my fingers over it. A braid. The guy has braided my hair. Both of his hands settle on my shoulders, sending shivers down my spine, as he leans in to rest his forehead against my now neater-than-it-ever-has-been hair. I suck in a breath, stuttered and desperate.
Wanting the world to hold. My eyes drift closed. Just this. Just us. Just now. For as long as the universe will allow. Killian even stops pressing his fingers into the tender parts of my arm.
“You can’t do that again,” Roarke says softly, but not soft enough. The air shifts, and the moment shatters. “Allure is a delicate, seductive power. You can’t force it.”
Don’t pout, I tell myself, trying to focus on what he’s saying and not the shivers still coursing through my body or the fact that Killian is moving again. I can’t force Allure, or it hurts.
I nod to show Roarke I understand because words aren’t possible right now.
It’s a few more moments, and another firm dig of Killian’s thumb, before I manage to put together a sentence.
“So whoever my dad was, he could have been an Allure?” Part of a memory is niggling at the back of my mind.
Actually it feels more like the upper-mid-right of my mind, and it feels like a word. I dig around for the syllables, almost losing them twice before settling on Haryk-Larsan.
“What’s a Haryk-Larsan?” I ask.
And get blank looks from each of them in return.
“I’ve never heard of a Haryk-Larsan,” Roarke says thoughtfully. “Why?”
“It was something in my memory, I think.”
“I can look it up,” he says.
“I think you’re tapping into our abilities because you’re so close to us all the time. This bubble is altering some of the properties of our powers, making us and our Seeds accessible to you. Which means we might burn your soul out before we manage to reverse these potions,” Seth says, his gaze on the fast flick of pages before his eyes.
All three of us turn to face him and his eyes go wide – like he’s just realized that something smart came out of his mouth, and he’s horrified.
“I’m going to help Pax,” he says, jumping from his seat and dumping his book onto the cushion.
Roarke stands and crosses to Seth’s neat stack of books. “I’m going to research Haryk-Larsans.”
“What were you guys looking for?” I ask, waving towards the piles of books.
“Lots of things. Anything we can find on tracking down the other Springs and breathing life back into them,” Roarke says. “Or how to shore up the border some other way.”
“Are you going to talk to that mage? He was–”
Killian’s grip on my wrist tightens, and that’s all I need to realize everything I was about to say was going to come out wrong.
“Where would we even find him?” Roarke asks. “We’ve got too much to do. When Pax gets his plans into place, we can send Sabers, other Sabers, to communicate with him, but not now. If Lithael is trying to bring the border down, we need to stop him. If the mortals want to start the great fire again, we need to stop them too. And before all of that, we need to research you – and your bubble.”
Both realms are in serious danger here. The fire would destroy these people, but the things being contained here can’t get out onto the mortal side either. My shrinking bubble, and the weird little side effects it’s having on everyone’s magic, is only one small dot on a canvas covered in dots. Most of them much bigger than I am.
Big dots. Splodges. Whole fists full of paint being smashed at a great big wall.
“We will work this out, Shadow,” Killian says as he puts the splint back onto my arm. He gives me a sneaky half smile, then gets up and goes back outside.
“Is it bad that I find his smile comforting?” I ask no one in particular.
Roarke chuckles. “Come on, he’s cooking meat, and the rain’s stopped.”
He insists I walk in front of him. Out the door, down the stairs, and onto the mud. I stop to give Roarke time to catch up, and also so I can roll my pants up to my knees. I’m really sick of every item of clothing I own getting taken from me, thrown away, ripped up, shredded, or covered in gravy. Roarke steps down beside me wearing boots with high ankles and a very long set of laces. I’m so jealous of those boots right now.
“Is it cold?” he asks, glancing at my feet.
“Yes, and wet. What kind of a question is that?”
He cracks a smile at me. “I meant too cold. Mortals don’t have the same temperature variation endurance as we do. You were always a smart-ass, weren’t you?”
“Um.” I stall, not sure if that’s
an actual question or an observation. He’s waiting – so question? “Yeah, born this way.”
He nods slowly. “Perhaps your Seed, if any, is closer to Seth’s abilities.”
“Isn’t there some magical test you can do?”
“No. A lot of Seeds overlap. If you don’t know your lineage, then working out your Seed is hard, but not impossible. Killian generally knows at first glance, and he swears you’re mortal. It’s not even essential to Sabers. We are our abilities, so using them comes naturally.”
“Unless,” I cut in, “you were dumped down a well as a baby, and everything about you is all screwed up.”
He nods. “Technically you were dumped down a spring and came up inside a well.”
I wave a hand at him. “Semantics.”
“Oh,” he coos. “That’s a beautiful word.”
“Semantics? You find words beautiful?” I ask, then instantly know he’s not going to answer me as his cheeks turn red.
He lifts his hand to run through his hair and starts walking toward the fire. I squelch through the mud after him, smiling at his back and unavoidably enjoying the view of his ass.
“You’re doing it again,” he says.
“Appreciating your hindquarters?”
He snorts. “That’s what a horse has.”
“Breech?”
“That’s what a kid has.”
“Then why do they call a man’s pants breeches?”
He turns to meet my gaze again – I win. I made him smile again. The victory gives my heart a rush, even though I have no idea when this became a game. Pretty sure he has no idea either.
But it’s still points to me.
He doesn’t say anything, just looks at me like I put a thought into his head that he’s never had before – and I get the feeling he’s covered most topics in that brain of his. He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him, snug against his side. Our bodies feel like they were made to fit together. I relax into his hold and let him lead me to the fire, even though staying right here and in his arms would be nicer. Cold, but worth it.
Shadows and Shade Box Set Page 80