by Elle Cross
I shooed him back and pressed my palm against the door. The sigh of magic recognizing its caster trembled beneath my skin and released the safety latch.
I was once again ushered behind West so that he could open the door and make sure that Enver was indeed the one on the other side.
Scents of citrus, spices, and grassy earth rolled into the room. I was immediately transported to the last day that I had seen Enver. I had unsurprisingly been challenged again, and I was hiding out in my room for as long as I could.
He had known where I would be. He always knew. I had been under my bed, tracing the outlines of the bed frame and mattress. A pile of pillows waited for him in the small space between the bed and the wall. He waited there patiently for me, his dark presence akin to a shadow.
My shadow.
At least that was my mother’s nickname for him. He was my shadow, and if I was invited anywhere, there had to be at least one extra seat because of Enver.
Whenever I was ready to come out from under my bed, I had only to reach out my hand to him, and he would grasp my forearm and pull me out of the space. I would inevitably cry, and he would hold me.
That night had been more or less the same.
Until it had become completely different.
The person who was my shadow, my most loyal guard, had become something more. It was like when the planets and stars aligned in such a way that one moment you see something that you see every day, an ordinary thing, and then the next moment that same thing changes from ordinary to significant.
It had been that way with me.
I had known exactly when I had realized that his devotion and loyalty was more than that of a subject, a bodyguard, or even friend. It had been in that last glance before I shut the door to get ready for the challenge.
He hadn’t had time to act on it. The next glance we shared was the moment I had died before his eyes.
From what the oracles told me, his anger had turned the Nightmare Court into a killing field. He had wreaked such havoc that he made my mother’s grief look sane, countering his power with her considerable force to subdue and not destroy him. When he still was too crazed to listen to reason, she had him driven out of her court and toward Winter to cool off.
And here he was.
His form took up most of my doorway, his shields whipping around him blotting out the rest of the space. His gaze locked onto mine directly and he walked toward me.
I shrank behind West. I didn’t mean to, but it happened.
He stopped inches from me. He was about to speak to me, but directed his next words to West. “Does she not remember us?”
What West had relayed as my mother’s words rang in my head. She has forgotten herself and needs to remember who she was.
I heard the uncertainty in Enver’s voice. And I heard what he had not said: Why is she afraid? He pressed all he could into the gossamer thread connecting us. I barely felt the tug of the bond, even in the same room.
The bonds that awakened briefly from the power transfer were already fading.
I didn’t wait for West to speak for me. “I remember you.” My voice was barely above a whisper, but it might as well have been a scream for all it echoed in the room.
He slowly moved toward me, as if I might bound off like a deer. Hells, I kind of wanted to.
Something within him warred. Like he fought against himself: one wanting to crush me to him and never let me go, and the other one realizing that it had been years and I may not be at my peak strength.
I could at least ease that bit of torment within him. I moved around West, and after a few pauses, I scooched myself into Enver’s waiting arms.
Love surged from him like an electrical pulse and it crackled against my skin. I nestled my head on his shoulder, tucked perfectly under his chin. His pulse fluttered strongly against my face.
He was saying something and it took a while for me to hear what he said: Never Again.
Over and over.
He stroked my hair, pet my cheek. Kissed my forehead. He wanted more, but was content with touching. I was overwhelmed by the emotion and had half a mind to sneak off underneath my bed so I could process it all.
I felt more than heard more steps on the landing.
I moved away suddenly, giving West and Enver room to maneuver if needed. Enver bared his teeth at the intruder, who he recognized. “There you are. Took you long enough.”
“You do not keep me for my speed.” It was Taran, and I was ever so glad to see him.
Where Enver was intense, and West was efficient, Taran was the lovable and patient teddy bear, if teddy bears were massive juggernauts who could crush skulls with one hand.
A scar danced over his eyebrow where an arrow skimmed off his face, nearly piercing his skull. His head was shaved down the sides, showing where tattoos graced his skin. The rest of his sandy-colored hair was contained in three thick braids that ran down the length of his head and joined into what looked like a length of rope that trailed his back.
Light gray eyes sliced around the room as dangerously sharp and cunning as blades. His power rode him, filling his normally green eyes with steel. They warmed when his gaze found mine, lighting up like blazing emeralds.
I ran to him. “Taran!” I practically squealed and jumped right into his arms. He swung me around the room, and then kept me in the crook of his arm like I was a child. The scents of apples, cardamom, and amber wood surrounded me, and I breathed more of him in.
Amusement and mild jealousy flowed over the thread bonds from Enver.
“Hey at least she didn’t try to fight you with a television remote,” West said.
“She tried to what with a what—?” Enver’s confused face was amusing.
“In my defense, I woke up on my couch with my ghost looking at me. It was unsettling,” I said. “Were those Banshees?” I asked so Enver wouldn’t start asking about the ghost, too. I’d tell them soon, but first things first. I needed to know how safe we were from attackers.
He nodded curtly. “Havoc should be along soon.”
I grinned again, and could not keep from clapping. Havoc was endlessly entertaining. He didn’t speak much, but when he did, they were the driest and most deadpan lines. When I was first introduced to him, he always seemed too serious. The one able to survive and adapt anywhere.
He had the least weaponry on his person, but that was because he was able to turn anything around him into a weapon. Once, I’d witnessed him kill a Goblin with nothing but a spoon. He had been covered in blood and gore from head to toe.
When my mother’s powers were conferred on me during my first Blessed Moon revel, he gravitated toward me and had stayed at my back since. I didn’t always know where he was, but when I called him or needed him, I knew he would be there.
And as if thinking of him made him appear, he stepped on to the landing. Where West stepped through shadows, Havoc appeared to step from light and air. Like the others, he was also dressed in his leathers, a near mirror to West with his lean, sinewy build. He wore his black hair short and spiky, with longer locks in front.
Just as he carried the least weapons, so too did he wear the least armor. Where the rest of the guard wore their usual protective gear, he didn’t even wear a shirt under his leather vest. He wasn’t exactly bare, though. Monsters graced his skin, tattooed with be-spelled ink so that he was a walking tableau of artistry.
And when he was really pissed, he could call upon them. A living army fit for a Lord of War.
“I’m already here.”
I smacked a kiss on Taran’s cheek then shimmied off of him to hug Havoc as he approached the room. He let me, his hand warm on my back as he pressed me to him. He always smelled of ozone and leather. It made me want to get closer and breathe him in. He was the most reserved of all my guard, so I always tried to give him his personal space.
When I thought to pull away, though, his hold tightened. I looked up to see his usual black eyes fade to a bright gold. The eyes
of a hunter seeking prey. He nuzzled my neck and inhaled, face rubbing against mine. Gods only knew what scents he smelled on me. “You’ve had a busy night.”
He spoke next to my ear, breath dancing over my skin, making my body stand at attention. I suppressed a shiver that was not entirely from being cold.
Confused by my body’s reaction, I bit my lip and stepped away from him. My body screamed in protest. “A girl’s gotta have hobbies.”
“Keep her within this room, it’s protected,” Enver called out.
“Yeah, I figured that out when I couldn’t get in any closer. Which might as well have been a beacon saying, ‘Attack me here.’”
I knew that it wasn’t directed at me, but I still bristled at the censure from the survivalist of my men. “Nothing has come close to attacking me until today. I seem to have managed just fine all by myself for years.”
I realized my mistake as I said it. The air seemed to leave the room. No breath, sound, or movement.
Way to tell your most loyal people that they were unwanted. I could slap myself.
Before I could apologize, Havoc cupped my cheek. I did my best not to flinch at his touch. “I didn’t mean anything by that. I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”
Enver was at my back, a hand at my shoulder as if protecting me from Havoc. “You never think,” he bit out.
“Stop. This is not happening.” I shrugged Enver off me, and closed the gap between Havoc and me. I held his hand between both of mine until he met my gaze. “I know what you meant, and as a strategy I agree. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Then I turned to Enver. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to tell him that I could protect myself. I have proven that time and again in duels. Well, except for that last one when I kind of died.
And that was probably what he remembered over and over again. That I’d died. And that he hadn’t been the one to protect me.
So instead I did the only thing I thought could put his mind at ease. I stood up on tiptoes and pressed my lips to his hard and unyielding ones. Like lightning, he snaked his arm around me to bring me closer, to kiss me more deeply.
Power and magic were poised to pour into my mouth. My body shook with a need to receive it, accept it. Accept him.
Now was not the time.
I pulled back, trailing a light caress down his neck. “Were you waiting for anyone else?”
By my count, all four of my Inner Circle were here. The foundation of my power base. Or, what would have been the foundation if I had decided to claim them and build my own court. Four who had pledged allegiance to me in front of my mother and the Oracles’ conduit for approval.
Each of them in turn had his own warriors who answered to them.
Enver shook his head. I took it as both an answer and also as time to clear his head. I used that moment to leave the space of his body, and head toward the stairs. Passing Havoc, I asked, “You got the other baddies that may be lurking, right?”
“You know it,” he answered.
I bound down the stairs. West and Havoc beat me to the first floor, but only because they bent shadow and light to do so. Enver behind me, and Taran taking the rear.
My bag was already slung over my shoulders.
“You don’t mean to leave right now do you?” West was the only one who would have known that I intended to leave.
There was no trace that anything happened in my home. No trace that Banshees wailed their death cries here. No trace of Una.
“West, I can’t feel Una any longer, and the last thing she told me was that she wanted to go home. The Oracles intend for me to find out who her killer is. There could be someone else taken out there, or will be taken or whatever, and every minute that passes is one where she is afraid or in danger.”
“Okay, I get it. I really do. But you don’t even know who you’re searching for, and the Oracles are reluctant to speak to you straight if at all. And the one lead you have is someone who disappears because she said, and I quote, ‘You need to get stronger.’ Isn’t that also true?”
I sighed. This was true.
“Maybe it would be wiser to plan, even for just one hour. Or one minute.” He cupped my face and grazed my cheek with his thumb. “Of course if you want to go right now, we will go now.” He looked around and they all nodded.
Enver’s gaze especially pierced into mine so fiercely it was like marking my soul. “We will follow you wherever you want to go, whenever you want to go.” His voice was soft, but rang with a lethal promise.
Their loyalty and conviction did something to me. My heart fluttered in my chest and I felt a little lightheaded. In light of it all, I became more aware that I felt unprepared and disorganized. I would not be the person to screw stuff up and go charging into a battle that could have been won if only I had the right supplies with me or if I’d rested.
What was it that Havoc always said?
“Rest is a weapon.” The quiet voice answered my thoughts.
He stroked the backs of his fingers down my cheek, and trailed down until he held my upper arm in a soft grip.
When had he gotten so handsy? I found I rather liked him like that. My body for sure was perking up and paying attention.
West’s dimming voice from inside of me was like a touch, too, and made my stomach and other muscles tighten.
Out loud he said abruptly, “I’ve decided I will be your strategist and advisor.”
“Hey now,” Havoc chimed in. “As the Lord of War around here, I think I’d be a better strategist and advisor than a Lord of Storms.”
“Spell ‘strategist,’” West countered.
I snorted. “All right, all right. No need for duels. West can be my Advisor as you’re already so fit for the role.” He puffed up his chest as Havoc glared at him.
“And, as Havoc brought up, as a Lord of War, I find it fitting that we defer to his judgment as Strategist.”
He stuck his tongue out at West. “Glad you agree, my queen.” Havoc marched me away from the front door and toward the kitchen.
Along the way, Taran removed the pack from my shoulder and held on to it. Slung on his arm like that, it looked like he carried a doll’s bag. I wondered what it would be like to climb that body of his—
Havoc tightened his grip on my arm, enough to stop my thoughts. “What West said about getting stronger tells me you gotta eat. As your newly-appointed Strategist, that means we gotta feed you more. And then rest.” He booped the end of my nose with his fingertip for emphasis.
I blinked at him as if just seeing him. Where had this talkative, playful person been, and why did it feel as if I was seeing him—heck, all of them—for the first time?
Thoughts more than words brushed up against my shields, but Havoc’s came through his hand and into my skin.
I just realized that I hadn’t strengthened my shields from before. I had been an open sieve just now. Had I been projecting my thoughts?
I flushed, and the way the others looked with their dark and knowing looks—Taran’s especially cheeky smile—made me realize that yes, I had been projecting.
By the gods, why was I a queen again? And why did these men follow me?
West’s voice was barely a whisper in our dimming thread.
Karina
BETWEEN WEST’S EFFICIENCY AND Havoc’s tactical advice, I could not fault the plan to stay here for one more night.
It was really odd seeing four biggish men in my kitchen. It was really only comfortable with two people and delightfully squishy with a loving family of four. For five grown adults, four of whom being battle-trained and hardened warriors ranging from six-two to six-nine, thanks to Taran’s mountainous bulk? It was a bit tight.
But somehow, perhaps because they fought and trained
together, they found a method inside the meal prep dance, and got a pretty good meal pulled together.
I was not planning on coming back to this house after all was said and done, so there really was no need to let this food go to waste.
As West and Enver finished prepping, Havoc and Taran scouted the defenses and made sure there were shields up and going and I was reminded yet again that it was like I was seeing them for the first time.
The Oracles were still unreachable, so I leafed through the files to keep myself busy since I was shooed away from helping in the kitchen. Determined to commit the information to memory, I scoured it all. Seeing the information squeezed my heart, and I vowed to find this girl before she left this world before her time, like Una.
Where was she, anyway? I’d hoped she would be able to appear now that there was more energy to feed from. Or was it that the men kept the ghosts away? I really needed to ask my mother how it was she managed to keep the ghosts around her so much. Some of whom had been at the court my entire life that they even had their own set of chores and duties.
A pamphlet fluttered to the ground, and it was of a housing development from Indiana. Odd. I didn’t remember seeing that before. And why would it have been in a file for an ongoing murder investigation.
I shifted the contents of the folder to see where it may have come from when there was a sheaf of creamy, embossed papers neatly clamped together with one of those brass binder clips that fancy offices use.
Okay, these definitely weren’t here before.
They were house contracts and escrow paperwork. The numbers kind of swirled together for me, like trying to read inside a dream. I checked out the brochure again.
‘Welcome to your new home’ was emblazoned at the front of it.
I looked at the brochure, and then back to the contract as understanding dawned on me. Una hadn’t been saying that she wanted to go home. She wanted me to go to my new home.
Even as I thought it, black ink and letters swirled and affixed themselves on the paper, with my name, Karina Bright, across the top, along with an address and other contact information. The realtor information was still a little blurry, but no doubt it would be made clear once I was on the path toward the house.