Evermine: Daughters of Askara, Book 2

by Hailey Edwards

  I strained my ears but heard wind and the promise of thunder. “Did you guys decide on movie night after all?” I toed off my shoes, then grabbed a dish towel to dry my arms and face. Tired of squishing when I walked, I hopped on one foot and peeled off a damp sock. “Maddie?”

  “Sorry to disappoint.” The rumbled male voice swayed me off balance. “No Maddies here.”

  I jolted upright, leaving one sock hanging while I scanned the darkness. “Harper?”

  He blew out the candles with a sigh, mood, or whatever he’d meant them for, ruined. “I should have called first. I haven’t been here long.”

  Dual clicks filled my ears and light flooded both rooms. Blinded, I blinked white spots.

  I heard his footsteps rush seconds before his hard hands trapped my hips.

  “Steady there,” he said. I guess I’d listed. “Let me get that.”

  He hooked an arm around my waist so his cheek brushed my navel when he bent down and slid the soggy sock from my foot. His skin warmed me through my soaked shirt.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” He knew where the dirty clothes went and took them there. So domestic.

  “Did you need something?” I called to his broad back. “It’s a hell of a night for a visit.”

  “I found your candles and matches.” He came out wearing a lopsided grin…and no glamour. I licked my lips, swore I already tasted him there. “I thought we could watch a movie.” He shrugged dark muscles, adjusting his wings. “I’m sure we can find something to do after.”

  I’m sure he thought so. He chuckled as I stared, captivated by the flush of scarlet through his carmine wings. Glamour made him human, handsome with his blond hair and blue-gray eyes. Without it, words failed me. His burnished ebony skin fed into thick, leather wings. Fathomless eyes returned my gaze, rimming silver around his irises. His midnight hair was darkly tousled.

  I wanted to run my hands through the shaggy length, twine my fingers, tug his scalp and bend him to my lips. He would taste of dates and cardamom, exotic and potent as the hunger sparking silver in his eyes. Crushing the desire swirling white hot through my limbs, I smiled.

  “Yeah.” I played along. “You did promise we’d talk. No time like the present.”

  I sat at the kitchen table and indicated the seat opposite me.

  He hesitated. His gaze actually tagged the door as if debating whether to brave the storm or converse. “Okay.” He sank very slowly into his chair. “What would you like to talk about?”

  I leaned forward until the aged oak bit into my chest. “How about what happened today?”

  He appraised me for a minute. “I’m assuming Maddie filled you in on our summons?”

  I nodded that yes, she had.

  “We arrived at the vernal castle, as requested.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Feriana’s streets were packed. The entire city was crowded. Vendors weren’t hawking wares in the market, and no one was buying anyway. They were all just…there. They waited outside the lower gate, watching the castle and holding their breaths.” He frowned. “It was damn eerie.”

  Absorbed by his tale, I almost failed to notice his hesitation. “Then what happened?”

  “Nesvia’s guards met us at the gate and ushered us into the great hall. First Court was in session, and the hall was filled with Askaran merchants, slave traders, breeders, other assorted scum.” His jaw flexed for a moment before he continued. “We were seated to Nesvia’s right.”

  “A place of honor. I’m guessing the nobility didn’t take that well.”

  “Better than you’d expect.” He shrugged. “I think they anticipated Eliya-esque entertainment.” His fingers drummed against his arms. “Guards at our backs, slitting our throats from behind while First Court cheered, or some other type of amusement. When that didn’t happen, then they got antsy. And after Nesvia made her speech, the whole court fell silent.”

  “They didn’t know it was coming?” I imagined shock on all those noble faces, expecting trickery, an impromptu execution, some cruel tidbit. A low whistle pursed my lips. “Well, damn.”

  “Exactly.” He flexed his wounded wing. “I figure someone must have tipped off the slaves. You know how gossip spreads among our own. I think it’s why they gathered around the castle in the first place. They must have gotten word, but didn’t believe it. The nobles, though, had no clue.” He smirked. “When Nesvia made her decrees, they flipped the hell out.”

  I leaned back with a curse. “What was she thinking?”

  “Shock and awe. Simple, but effective.”

  “So effective she almost got you all killed.” I indicated his shredded thigh. “How did that happen? Wasn’t Dillon pulling guard duty?”

  “Don’t give me that look, Emma. What happened wasn’t his fault. Think about it—Nesvia freed the source of income for half the attendees.” He ran his tongue along the edge of his teeth. “The slavers couldn’t very well attack her, not with Rideal and his guards there. So they turned on the next best target—the nobility. It was fun to watch for a while, but you know how my brother is.” He grunted. “He’s allergic to chaos.”

  “So you three waded in to break things up?”

  He nodded. “The guards were covering Rideal as he herded Nesvia into the queen’s tunnels. We were offering them backup while she escaped.” His expression told me what he thought of that idea. “It worked pretty well until our involvement caused united-front syndrome. Before long, differences were cast aside and the room turned on us, since, as newly minted freemen, the queen’s decision must be our fault.”

  “So they figured a little vigilante justice was good for the soul?”

  “Pretty much. The guards were content to watch until one of the nobles we were helping started screaming bloody murder. Turned out one of the guards was an archer with damn good aim.” He shifted in his seat and winced. “After the tide turned against us, I tore a page from Nesvia’s book and led the others through the nearest entrance into the tunnels. I think we made out all right, all things considered.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Spoken like a male who enjoys a good brawl.”

  He didn’t bother with denial. I knew him too well.

  “It had to be done. She wanted the nobles to understand they aren’t dealing with her mother, that behaviors Eliya endorsed won’t endear them to her. She wanted to ensure they understood the part of the equation where anyone wanting slave labor now has to pay the ex-slaves for it.”

  “Maybe so, but she still could have handled it better.” I saw his point, but I didn’t have to like how she’d dragged him into danger without so much as a warning. Scowling at Harper, I considered if she had. He’d have gone regardless.

  Seconds passed before I identified the low growl in the room as coming from me.

  Harper’s fixed attention made my skin grow hot and made me burn for contact.

  “So.” I mirrored his pose, crossing my arms over my nipples, which punched through the wet fabric of my shirt. “Anything else you want to tell me?” Our gazes collided and his shifted.

  “You have a good idea of what I’m thinking, or you wouldn’t have asked that question.”

  “I think…” I owned up to my newest worst fear, the one he’d instilled in me this morning when I realized how far his convictions carried him, “…that I’m going to wake up one morning to a Dear Jane letter, if that, and find out the hard way you took Nesvia up on her colony offer.”

  He hesitated. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “If someone had asked me a couple of days ago if you…” I waved my hand. “It doesn’t matter. You were right when you said you didn’t need my permission. You’re your own male.”

  “I shouldn’t have said that.” He reached for me. “Your feelings matter.”

  “They just don’t change anything.” I swallowed a hard lump when he didn’t answer.

  For years I had dealt with his death every morning while my mind teetered on the brink of waking or never waking.
Every night I cried until breath left my lungs and my soul wept for him. God, I never would have… So many things I wouldn’t have done, had I known he lived.

  Shame glazed my skin with a thin sheen of sweat.

  “That’s not true.” His smile softened around the edges, or maybe it was my vision.

  He came closer, cupped my face with his large palms and wiped rough thumbs across my cheeks. Warmth spread in wet smears. Fierce madness trapped in my chest made me shudder.

  Sniffling, I pushed him away. Seemed I did that often. “What’s on tonight?”

  “Emma…” He clutched my forearms, pulling me to my feet.

  “You said we’re watching a movie.” His touch broke things in me, brought pain bubbling beneath my skin in the shape of his fingers. I couldn’t breathe with him so near. “So what’s on?”

  “You wanted to talk—let’s talk. What’s wrong?” He lowered his face level with mine.

  When fresh moisture leaked from my eyes, my nose, I knew I’d come too far to fall back into our every little thing is fine as long as we don’t talk about it routine. “This is wrong.” I gulped air. “Finding you here, waiting for me, is wrong.” Disgust with myself boiled over my lips, lashed out at him. “I believed the legionaries when they said you were dead.” My chest heaved. “I gave up. And it came so easily.” My fingernails lengthened to claws and pierced his skin. “If I was worth this…” I indicated the candles, cookies, movies stacked on my coffee table, “…I would have demanded proof. I wouldn’t have rested until I saw your body. I would have—”

  “You had Maddie to think of.” He dragged me to his chest. “You did nothing wrong.”

  “I cheated on you.” Whisper sharp, my words must have sliced him to ribbons as he stood there, comforting me like I deserved it. “Every time I flirted or dated or…” I couldn’t finish.

  His arms banded tighter around me. “Emma-mine…” he pressed his nickname for me into my hair, “…you did nothing wrong.” He kissed my cheek. “Anyone would have done the same.”

  Not true, my conscience railed. My sister mourned him harder, longer and more faithfully than I had. Clayton had coaxed her back to life, but grief still gnawed at her bones.

  Friendship made her ache for Harper’s loss, but my insides had shriveled and dried up during those years. Love had torn out my heart and ground it to a fine powder scattered by the winds of change. I wasn’t his Emma-mine. I was the bruised imprint she left behind, desperate to reconnect and panicked because he had shut me down at every turn. He acted as if he hadn’t been brutalized. He pretended I was still innocent. He forced his denial on me, and it suffocated.

  “I can’t do this.” This time I made him let me go. His strength was no match for mine.

  “Okay.” He cast me a wounded glance, and I all but saw his heart bleed. “We’ll do this another time.” His lips kicked up in the smile I adored. “How about after work tomorrow, I—”

  “I won’t be here.” Where the certainty came from, I hadn’t a clue. Already my mind ticked down seconds like a bomb set to blow. He would leave me. I knew he would. He was too dedicated to his cause not to find a way to help. If I blocked his path, he would go through me.

  Then I’d be alone, waiting for Maddie’s Clayton-free weekends so I could pretend I had a social life. I’d end up the diner owner with the beehive hairdo, too-long fingernails and ten cats.

  “What are you saying?” He didn’t get it. I was the one talking, and I barely understood.

  He wasn’t the only one with options. I had one too. Maddie had given it to me.

  “I know about the consul position.” My voice cracked. “I want your vote.”

  Obsidian eyes drilled into me. His jaw clamped over what might have been his objection.

  “I need to get away from this.” I scrubbed my face. “The colony, Earth, my sister…”

  “Me.” The word sounded so final when he spoke it.

  “Yes.” I bulldozed ahead before I lost my nerve, before the voice wailing desperation in my heart gained the upper hand, made me take it back.

  “Where does this leave us?” he ground out between his teeth.

  Snared by his question, I faltered over the only answer that made sense, the one that hurt the most. “It leaves us two very good friends who missed their chance at being something more.”

  “Make no mistake, Emma.” His gaze flickered, and silver rimmed his eyes. “I was never your friend. I would never settle for so little with you. Not when I want it all, every part of you.”

  My pulsed hammered in my veins. “Harper—”

  “Stop right there.” He held up his hand. “Don’t say something you’ll regret.” His arm dropped. “Something we’ll both regret.” He scratched his scalp and cursed at his bloody fingers.

  “Let me get you something…” I stepped toward the kitchen.

  “I don’t need something.” He caught me by the wrist. “What I need is you.”

  “What you need is a body to play anchor in the present so you don’t have to face your past, or mine for that matter. I can’t be that person anymore. It’s killing me to need you healed, to need you whole, to need you. Your past, present, future, all of it—all of you.”

  “I can’t… I don’t have those things. I can’t give them to you.”

  The crack in my chest split wide. Harper had a past, one we’d shared until his bid to save his father and brother took him from me. His present was here, with me, but even he knew his thoughts were a realm away. His future…he had plans for that too, didn’t he? None involved me.

  “Then give me what you can.” A chance to start over, see if I sank or swam on my own.

  He turned his back on me, human again. “My vote is yours.” Then he strode out the door.

  I had seconds to stop him. I locked my knees, closed my eyes and covered my mouth with my hand so I wouldn’t cry out to him. My teeth sank into the meat of my pointer finger.

  Skin tore and blood flowed. Heartbroken and will ebbing, I sank to the floor. I’d won independence from my past. Severed the only tie I’d ever wanted to the only male I’d ever loved. I curled tight, rocked against the frigid planks. I couldn’t move. Minutes passed. I counted them by the frantic thump in my ears. Strange how steady my heart beat long after it was broken.

  Chapter Four

  Realm of Askara, City of Feriana, One Year Later

  Freedom tasted empty in this city where slaves roamed unfettered. Some looked as lost as I felt. Those, I offered room and board at the consulate. After a lifetime of servitude, wishing daily your shackles were unhinged, once they were, you missed the familiar weight, the security.

  Staring at the corner of my makeshift desk, I saw metal glint in the light cast by Askara’s twin moons. I smoothed a finger over the glass covering my contraband. Nothing of Earth was allowed in this realm. Cross-pollution caused problems none of us wanted on our conscience. Yet this one indulgence made my new life bearable on the long nights when my room echoed with my breaths and the padding of feet down the hall reminded me it wasn’t my sister out there.

  The photo in the picture frame showed Maddie sandwiched between two near-identical males. Clayton stood to her right, his face caught in profile as he gazed down at her, as if the sun rose and set wherever she stood. To her left, the younger, leaner brother tossed a lazy arm around her shoulders and stared through the camera lens, straight at me. Silver encircled his eyes. His lovely wings pulsed red with his desire, peeking over his shoulders and beguiling me even at a glimpse. I traced the curve of the tiny hooked claws topping each one, then smoothed the pad of my finger across his jaw, his mouth, down his shirt and pants, past decency.

  A hoarse sigh, sounding too much like a sob, deflated my lungs.

  “Emmaline Gray?” My name came on a whisper in the dark.

  I slipped the frame into a drawer and wiped my face dry before I turned. Then I gasped.

  Fear launched me to my feet, spiked my pulse to burn through my veins.
Instead of a boarder asking timid favors to quell the rumbling of their stomachs or quench their parched throats, moonlight sliced streaks across an unfamiliar male’s aristocratic face.

  No wings, no subtle crackle of glamour, so he wasn’t an Evanti demon. His lithe build and pale features made me think Askaran noble instead. His easy bearing screamed I am royalty.

  He approached. “Queen Nesvia requires an audience with you.” His low voice all but purred. His hot breath fanned the shell of my ear. “Are you agreeable to such an arrangement?”

  “I’ll need to dress first.” Relief expanded my chest. If Nesvia sent him, he was safe.

  His gaze slid over the silken gown teasing the tops of my knees and lingered. “I’ll wait outside.” Seconds passed while I wondered if he would go. Then he flashed a smile, exited.

  I shivered, rubbed my arms. He couldn’t see my tattoos. I held out my arms but saw only smooth skin, wan as the light filtering through my bedroom window. No lavender scrollwork crept over my body. No ritualistic markings showed through my workman’s glamour. He knew, though, what I had been. For a second, the magic flex of glamour fizzled, and I read the words inscribed on my forearm. Written in Demonish, it translated loosely to: Property of the royal house of Askara. If found, please return to her proper owner. Your fealty will be compensated.

  A surge of anger, shame, prickled my skin as I made the words vanish. Yes, my sister once owned me. No, I was not keen on ever being possessed again. This royal, whoever he was, could keep his sidelong glances and sinful intentions. When he brought me before Nesvia, I would ask him to be stricken from the precious few able to summon me during nighttime hours.

  Glancing toward the door, assured it was closed, I let silk fall from my shoulders and dressed in a pantsuit made of some distant cotton cousin, then shoved a comb in my hair, scooping the mass of blonde curls from my eyes.

  Wood groaned on oiled hinges, warning my escort in time to settle a smile on his face.

  “You look lovely, lady.” He took my hand, brushing warm lips across my knuckles.