The Night Realm

by Annette Marie

  Eryx slid to a halt and sprang back to Clio’s side. “She obviously has a plan, and I’m all for lifting their best magic instead of waiting for one measly death spell.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Kassia snarled. “We’re trapped in the Underworld. If we break into Chrysalis—”

  Clio was about to drag them both back into motion when Eryx held up his hand, the gesture startling Kassia into silence.

  “We aren’t trapped here, Kass.” He fixed somber crimson eyes on his cousin. “I wasn’t supposed to reveal this short of an emergency, but I know of a ley line in the valley. Not the one we came through, but a different one.”

  Clio’s jaw dropped. “How do you know that?”

  He pointed toward the unseen mountains. “The ley line we came through is small and heavily guarded, but there’s another ley line at the opposite end of the valley. So we can break into Chrysalis, get some spells, then head straight out of Asphodel.”

  “That’s perfect,” Clio said before Kassia could fire questions at Eryx. “Let’s go!”

  She launched back into a sprint, urgency pounding in her head. How long had it been since she’d left Lyre?

  Kassia fell into stride beside Clio, Eryx a step behind her. “What exactly is your plan?”

  “I’m stealing a spell, but it isn’t for Bastian. It’s for Lyre.”

  “What?” they both yelled.

  “Keep your voices down!” Clio glared at them over her shoulder, slowing to a jog as Chrysalis came into sight. In a hurried whisper, she told them about Dulcet abducting her, Lyre rescuing her, and the spell that was killing him. “He has a special weave in his workroom that can save his life. I’m getting it for him.”

  “This is all to save that worthless incubus?” Eryx growled, fury darkening his irises. “What about your mission? If we break in now, we can’t do it again later.”

  “I know, but he saved my life. He fought his own brother for me.”

  “Bastian’s mission doesn’t matter anymore,” Kassia cut in before Eryx could respond. “A Chrysalis weaver kidnapped Clio. It’s obviously not safe here.”

  He bared his teeth but Clio hushed them both as she led them through the shadows. The front entrance of Chrysalis was dark and only a few windows glowed with lights. The building was closed. Good.

  She led them to a side door and reached for the metal.

  “Clio,” Kassia whispered. “Are you sure about this? He’s an Underworlder. An enemy.”

  “He was never an enemy. He’s just another victim of this evil place.” She pressed her hand to the door and dissolved the ward with a single shot of magic. She was getting better at parsing Chrysalis’s weaves as her instincts tuned to the common patterns and constructs they used.

  They slipped into the dim corridor, and Clio cast a cloaking spell over herself. Kassia and Eryx copied her, following in silence. She was kind of surprised Eryx was still accompanying her. She half expected him to storm off.

  Slinking through the halls as swiftly as she dared, Clio headed in the general direction of the lobby. They found it empty and silent, the reception desk abandoned. A sleepy quiet filled the building, lulling her into a false sense of security, but she didn’t relax. She had seen lights in the windows. Some weavers were still working tonight.

  They hastened toward the stairs and up to the second level, then down another hall. With her asper, Clio could see any spells that might stop them. Chrysalis was too reliant on their magic. They didn’t even have security guards.

  After three wrong turns, Clio found the right corridor. She remembered it well—mainly, hitting the floor on her butt after Lyre had activated his wards. He’d been so furious. She hoped he would forgive her for breaking into his spell cache a second time.

  The door to his workroom glowed bright gold, layered with weavings. Eryx and Kassia spread out to stand guard while Clio worked. Two she disarmed, but the third one was blood magic—keyed to his blood to prevent anyone else from disarming it. She had no choice but to destroy it instead, pulling apart the weak spots in the weave that only she could see. Lyre really didn’t want anyone in his workroom while he was gone.

  As she pushed the door open, Eryx and Kassia rejoined her. They exchanged a few quick words, then Kassia turned and went back down the hall.

  “Where’s she going?” Clio asked distractedly as she stepped into the dark room and felt along the wall for the light switch.

  “She’s standing guard for us. The other direction is a dead end, so I’m staying with you.”

  She found the switch and smacked it. Light bloomed. She almost asked Eryx why Kassia was acting as a sentry and not him, then she realized Kassia was probably equally worried about Eryx taking off on his own.

  “Don’t touch anything,” she told him. “There are defensive wards everywhere.”

  Leaving him in the middle of the room, she rushed to the bookshelf and pulled the books out. The panel was visible, devoid of any wards just as she’d left it. She popped it off and shoved her hand inside.

  It was empty.

  No! She’d assumed the lack of spells meant Lyre hadn’t noticed she’d broken them. But he had. And instead of respelling the hiding place, he’d moved the clock.

  She lurched backward, head whipping side to side as she fought to keep her panic under control. Where had he moved it? Where would he have put it? She raced to the desk, crawled under it, and disarmed the spell on the tile, but the clock wasn’t among his cache of emergency magic either.

  She almost backed out, leaving the tile open, when she realized Eryx was crouched a few steps behind her, watching. She pushed the tile back into place and rearmed it, then scrambled out.

  “What’s in there?”

  “Just some basic defensive magic,” she lied as she circled the room. “The spell I need eats magic—destroys weavings.”

  “Is that different from dissolving a spell?”

  “It’s the difference between dousing a fire and making the fire vanish like it was never there.”

  “Why didn’t you mention a spell like that before now?”

  She stiffened at his accusatory tone. “It’s not a weapon, let alone a war spell. It would hardly scare Ra into leaving Irida alone.” She pressed her hands to her forehead, unable to think through the burning urgency in her head. “I can’t find it. He moved it. I can’t see any weavings where he might have hidden something.”

  “Well, if you can’t see it, then the magic isn’t here.”

  Eryx was right. She wasn’t missing the magic—there was no magic. Lyre knew she could see any ward he created, so he must have hidden the clock in a way that wouldn’t tip her off. Something that didn’t require a protective ward.

  She stared around the room again. Where could he have hidden it? She scanned the table, the bookshelves, the sofa and coffee table, the heaps of junk in the corners—

  Her attention hooked on a pile of books. It looked different from what she remembered. Rushing over, she shoved books aside, tossing them carelessly to the floor until she reached the bottom of the pile where a metal box was buried.

  Grinning—that sneaky incubus wasn’t sneaky enough to foil her—she gave the box a quick examination. Seeing no magic, not even a lock, she popped the lid open. A puff of white powder erupted from the interior.

  She gasped in surprise—then Eryx grabbed her by the hair and clamped his hand over her mouth and nose. The box tumbled to the floor, spilling more powder as he dragged her to the center of the room.

  He removed his hand, letting her breathe. Dizziness rolled through her and she felt like her head was stuffed with cotton.

  “Clio, are you okay? Can you hear me?”

  She nodded woozily. “What was that?”

  “Some kind of drug in the box—probably intended to knock you unconscious. You should be fine in a minute.”

  “Holy crap,” she muttered, rubbing her palms on her skirt in case they had powder on them. “Lyre is serious about keepi
ng that spell locked up.”

  Eryx grunted. Holding an arm over his face, he plucked out the cloth bag. He shook it off, wiped it on his pants a few times, then handed it to her. She opened it and peeked inside. The altered clock lay within, its gemstones gleaming.

  “This is it.” She rose to her feet, wobbled, then steadied. The powder’s effects were already wearing off, though she hated to imagine what would have happened if Eryx hadn’t been so quick. “Let’s go.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I—”

  He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around to face the door. Stepping close behind her, he gripped her upper arms, squeezing painfully, and lowered his face close to hers.

  “Good. Now that we have the spell you want, you’re going to find magic for Prince Bastian.”

  “W-what? No, we—”

  His fingers bit into her arms. “We came here for Chrysalis’s best warfare spells, and we aren’t leaving without them.”

  “We don’t have time to—”

  “Look at it this way, Clio. If you find good weavings for Bastian fast enough, we can save your boy-toy. Otherwise, I’ll make sure you never get this spell to him.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “We aren’t leaving Asphodel empty-handed.”

  She jerked her arms and he let her go. Jamming the clock spell into her wide fabric belt, she faced Eryx. “You are my bodyguard, Eryx, and I will not be bullied by—”

  His crimson eyes were like bloodstained ice. “My loyalty belongs to Prince Bastian, not the king’s bastard daughter of a whore.”

  She stumbled back as though he’d physically hit her, pain ricocheting through her chest.

  Light exploded from the doorway—a fiery line that blazed across the floor straight for Eryx. The spell hit him square on and solidified into glowing ropes that sizzled with electric power. They rushed over him and he hit the floor, unconscious and bound in magic.

  “I almost wish I’d heard more,” a deep voice purred. “That sounded like a fascinating conversation.”

  Clio took an alarmed step back as Madrigal strolled into the room, his hands tucked in the pockets of his lab coat, a smile playing on his perfect lips. Shadows slid across his amber irises.

  “Bastard daughter of a whore,” he repeated in a croon, “fathered by an indiscreet king. So that would make you … a little nymph princess.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Clio stared at Madrigal, at those darkening eyes, then jerked her gaze down, focusing on his chin instead. Golden magic unraveled around him, spreading through the room like a fine mist. Aphrodesia. And he wasn’t playing around this time.

  She took shallow breaths, though she knew his magic didn’t work through inhalation. Warmth coiled in her center, and her limbs felt weak and tingly.

  “What are you doing in here, little princess?” His attention shifted around the room and stopped on the mess she’d made of Lyre’s books. “Looking for something, hmm?”

  She shook her head and backed up another step. Glowing threads encased his body—several defensive weaves that would deflect any attack. She had no magic that could pierce those protections. Just like with Dulcet, any spell she cast would slough off the weaves.

  The haze of aphrodesia in the room thickened, and her head got fuzzier with each passing moment. It was so hard to ignore his eyes. They called to her, black magnets she could see in her peripheral vision.

  “Why are you here, Clio?” His voice wrapped around her like irresistible music.

  Get angry, Lyre had told her.

  “Stop using aphrodesia on me!” she screamed.

  He smiled and her gaze locked on his mouth, on those soft, full lips and the flash of white teeth. The heat inside her reached a boiling point, and her skin burned with the need to be touched. Her knees were shaking.

  “Look at my eyes, Clio,” he commanded softly.

  “N-no.”

  “Look at my eyes.”

  She stumbled another step and her legs hit the edge of the coffee table.

  “Virgins,” he sighed. “Your resistance has amused me so far, but I’m losing patience.”

  “Leave me alone,” she quavered, hating how weak she sounded.

  “Oh no. I won’t be doing that.” He stepped closer and she had no room to retreat.

  Her pulse careened in her ears. She could smell him, spices and citrus that clouded her thoughts like a potent drug. She wanted him. She needed to touch him, to melt into his arms, to feel him on every inch of her skin—

  “Don’t cry, little princess,” he crooned. “I won’t hurt you.”

  Until he said the words, she hadn’t realized tears were streaming down her face. She kept her stare locked on his jaw, stubbornly fighting the pull of his eyes even as resisting became physically painful.

  “It won’t hurt at all.” His hypnotic tones enveloped her like an invisible spell. “That’s the catch though, you know. A girl as inexperienced as you …” He smiled. “I’m going to destroy you with pleasure, my love.”

  Fear burst through her, but it fizzled out as need burned in every nerve.

  His fingers closed gently around her chin. At his touch, shivering thrills ran across her skin and weakened her legs. Then he tilted her face up, and her eyes met his.

  Black pools of lust sucked her in, and in an instant, she was drowning.

  Her knees gave out. He caught her, sweeping her up against his body, and citrus spice filled her nose. Her arms snaked around him of their own accord, and hot need throbbed more painfully. She couldn’t stand it. She was losing her mind with a longing so potent it eclipsed even the need for air.

  Gaze locked on hers, he leaned her back until she was lying across the coffee table. His fingers slid down her arms and she almost screamed at the blend of pleasure and agonizing yearning. A moan slipped from her.

  “Ah,” he breathed. “Now I have you. Now you’re mine, little princess.”

  A distant voice inside her howled in denial, but she couldn’t think. Her heart would surely give out if he stopped touching her.

  “Tell me, my love. What were you doing in this room?”

  His crooning words wrapped around her like silken chains, gently cocooning her will until it didn’t occur to her she shouldn’t answer.

  “We came to steal a spell.”

  “What spell is that?” His warm hands glided up her shoulders.

  She shuddered with each touch. “Lyre’s special spell.”

  “What is his special spell?”

  “It …” A flicker of warning penetrated the haze, and a different pair of blackened gold eyes flashed in her vision—full of fury at her betrayal. “It’s a secret.”

  He leaned down until his breath warmed her lips. His hands caressed her shoulders and slid up the sides of her neck. She trembled, her body straining upward, needing more contact.

  “Tell me the secret, Clio,” he purred.

  She squirmed, one arm flopping off the coffee table as she tried to wiggle free from his hold on her mind. Her hand hit the sharp edge of something on the floor and a shock of pain bit into her flesh.

  His fingers stroked her throat, then across her jaw and up her cheek, those mesmerizing eyes pulling her deeper. “Tell me, Clio.”

  “The spell is …” She tried to swallow the words but his command had sunk claws deep into her will. “It’s a … a clock.”

  His brow furrowed. “A clock?”

  Her fingers closed around the metal lip of the object beside the coffee table, and she gripped tighter and tighter until sharp, cold pain cut through the soft heat that had taken over her body.

  As he opened his mouth to deliver another command, she sucked in a breath and held it. Then she whipped her arm up and slammed the metal box into the side of his skull. Powder puffed outward in a snowy cloud that engulfed his head.

  Madrigal gasped in pain, then doubled over in a fit of coughing, inhaling more powder. Clio yanked her legs up
and jammed both feet into his gut. He keeled over backward and crumpled. His limbs stirred weakly as he tried to roll over.

  Still holding her breath, Clio lurched to the cupboard, yanked it open, and pulled out one of Lyre’s spare shirts. Wrapping the clean fabric over her face to filter the air, she rushed back to the metal box and dumped the remaining powder on Madrigal’s face. He wheezed, then went limp.

  Leaving him on the floor, she grabbed Eryx by the ankles and dragged him into the hallway. After a moment of study, she unraveled the binding with a deft slice of magic. He stirred, eyelids fluttering as he regained consciousness.

  Discarding the shirt around her face, she darted down the corridor and found Kassia slumped against the wall near the end, bound in the same weaving. Clio swiftly broke it apart and gripped her friend’s arm as she struggled to wake.

  “Clio?” Kassia muttered. “Clio! An incubus came—you—what happened?”

  “The incubus is down. Eryx should be—” She paused as the chimera in question half ran, half stumbled to join them. “Eryx is here.”

  Kassia’s eyes clouded. “I failed you. I’m sorry.”

  “None of us are a match for those master weavers.” Rising, she shot Eryx an icy look. “We’re leaving now.”

  He didn’t argue, his face pale. Kassia clambered up, and the three of them sped back through the building, encountering no one. Clio tried to hide the way her legs were shaking. Her body ached, her skin flashed hot and cold, and throbbing warmth lingered inside her. A shadow of the need he had woken in her still thirsted for his touch.

  Maybe she should have done something else to incapacitate him. Fear had driven her away, but if he woke too soon, he could raise the alarm. Then again, to bind him with another spell, she would have had to first unravel all his defensive weavings.

  The powder would have to be enough. Presumably, Lyre knew what he’d been doing when he’d rigged the box. It would keep Madrigal unconscious for a while—she hoped.

  They slipped out of Chrysalis and back into the streets. Keeping an ear out for soldiers, Clio led her bodyguards back to the beacon she’d left at the entrance of the housing complex, then raced through the rows of houses to Lyre’s. Eryx and Kassia guarded her back while she disarmed the stack of wards.