by Vivian Wood
Lucifer? Kira felt a tear slip down her cheek. Rezeal wanted to take her to hell? Drawing in a shaking breath, Kira knew she needed to lure him closer for her plan to work.
“Come to me,” Kira said, trying to keep her voice level. “Embrace me, Rezeal. Show me you missed me.”
Rezeal’s face lit with genuine pleasure, and he rushed toward Kira. Before Rezeal could get close enough, Asher shouldered Kira aside, making himself a tempting target for the angel’s wrath.
“Kira, get back,” Asher snarled.
Asher pushed her back a step, shielding her with his body. His stance was defiant, challenging; she could feel the fury and violence rolling off Asher in waves as he prepared to defend her with his life.
You again. Rezeal’s face grew solemn as he contemplated Asher’s presence. You must know that Meredith does not want you, shifter. You are nothing compared to me.
“She’s not your fucking mate, Rezeal. This is your daughter,” Asher said.
Lies. All shifters lie. You, most of all. I am tired of your words.
Asher pushed Kira back another step and launched himself forward, his body rippling as he shed his human form. To Kira’s surprise, a glorious golden lion burst forth instead of a bear. The lion was much larger than any Kira had ever seen, standing at least five feet at the shoulder, with a flaming orange mane and blazing dark eyes.
Asher managed to surprise Rezeal, tackling the angel backward a dozen paces. Asher’s teeth snapped at Rezeal’s hip, just missing him, but it seemed too close for Rezeal’s liking. The archangel’s face contorted with rage and he actually bared his teeth at Asher, looking more inhuman than ever.
Rezeal raised a hand, lifting Asher into the air and holding him there. The lion convulsed, struggling against Rezeal’s power. Soon Kira realized that Rezeal was strangling Asher, slowly but surely cutting off his oxygen supply. Her mouth opened, a cry pouring from her throat without her consent or knowledge.
“STOP!” she cried. “Let him go! This is between you and me, Rezeal!”
Rezeal didn’t drop Asher, but he did turn to glance at Kira.
You will come with me, Meredith?
“I will leave you forever if you harm Asher,” Kira promised, fear and desperation making her bold. “Let him go, and we will talk.”
Rezeal’s lips twitched with amusement.
Promise me first, Meredith. Tell me you’ll come willingly, or I will kill the shifter while you watch.
Rezeal raised his hand again, slamming the lion against the Market’s tin roof, hard enough to bend the metal on impact.
“Okay! Okay, stop!” Kira begged, tears brimming in her eyes. “Let him go first, and I will come with you.”
Rezeal grinned, flashing Kira a row of perfect white teeth. He let Asher fall to the ground, the sickening crunch of the lion hitting the cement floor nearly making Kira vomit.
Now.
Rezeal turned and flung his arm wide, the sweep of his hand splitting the air somehow, creating a yawning black portal. As Kira watched with wide eyes, the portal flickered to life, giving her a glimpse of what lay on the other side. She saw flames first, orange and blue and white and black, burning and seething at the bottom of a towering mountain. Behind the mountain, the sky loomed blood-red and ominous. A winding, cruelly steep path was built into the side of the mountain, and Kira could see ghostly gray shapes clawing and crawling, trying in vain to climb the path.
At the very top of the mountain, Kira saw the stark white lines of a sprawling mansion, pure and perfect white marble clashing with the dark chaos below and the murderous sky above.
The master’s house.
Kira jumped when Rezeal’s fingers closed around her arm, his touch bringing another wave of nausea rolling through her body. His dark magic crept out over her skin, making her flesh crawl, making her feel tainted. His touch did more than that, though. It also sucked Kira’s free will away, gave Rezeal a strange kind of control over her body.
Her head rocked back, eyes staring up at his beautiful, angelic face. Her lips parted as Rezeal leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers. The kiss was chaste, but it went on and on. Rezeal pulled Kira close, his chest heaving with excitement, his grip on her waist nearly painful.
Inside, Kira screamed.
When Rezeal released her at last, turning toward the portal, Kira jolted to life once more. She looked at her father, looked at the literal gateway to hell that awaited them, and knew she couldn’t stall for another moment.
She shoved her hand in her pocket, pulling free the piece of black silk her grandmother had left her. Not knowing its purpose, Kira had kept it on her person since she’d received it. Now, she had no doubt what Grandma Louise had passed it on to Kira for.
Thrusting her arm deep into the bag, she ripped the blade free. Rezeal turned around, his eyes going to the blade as Kira held it in both hands, lifting it high. She was no swordsman, but the sword nearly carried itself as she heaved her body toward her father.
MEREDITH—
His shout was cut short as Kira plunged the blade into Rezeal’s belly, sinking it to the hilt without a moment’s effort. Rezeal’s mouth opened and closed in a soundless moment of shock, his expression one of complete disbelief.
“I am not Meredith,” Kira sneered, the sword’s dark, angry energy washing over her. “All my life, I pined for my mother. Raged at her for leaving me, silly as that sounds. Today, though… today is the first time I pitied her. What woman would want to be tied to you, Rezeal?”
Rezeal’s gaze bored into hers, but Kira refused to flinch.
“I banish you,” she gritted out. “Not to heaven, not to hell. Not to purgatory. I want you gone, Rezeal. I want you ended, out of my life, out of existence. You were all-powerful; now you are nothing. You are dust, swirling in the universe, never coming together again. Be gone!”
Kira pulled the sword back, freeing it from Rezeal’s body. For a terrifying moment, nothing happened. Kira thought that he might heal, that he might lash out, that he might drag her into the underworld and never let her go.
Then she saw it. Tiny fissures began to form around Rezeal’s mouth as it opened in a silent scream. A thousand porcelain-fine cracks spread over his face, infinitely small flakes peeling and falling away, a hungry black vortex forming as the cracks spread through his body, sucking and swirling. In mere moments, nothing was left of Rezeal but a few lonely motes of dust, drifting slowly to the ground.
The sword was heavy in Kira’s hand, the sinister energy crackling through her veins, making her palm tingle. She wanted more than anything to drop it, to fall to her knees, to rest. She was so drained, so impossibly tired, so overwhelmed…
Instead, she reached down and picked up the silk bag, struggling against the sword’s power as she pushed it back inside. The same magic that had guided it effortlessly into Rezeal’s chest was now fighting against Kira, desperate to stay in the human realm.
For that reason alone, Kira fought back. With every bit of will left in her soul, she shoved it in the bag and closed the opening, nearly wilting when the sword’s power faded away. When she glanced up, Pere Mal was rising to his feet across the Market.
“Don’t you DARE come after the Guardians again!” Kira shouted at him. “I will think up a much worse way to use this sword on you, I can promise you that.”
Pere Mal glanced at her with a grimace, then shook his head and walked out of the Market.
“Kira.”
Mere Marie’s panicked voice made Kira turn, fear in her heart. Mere Marie knelt before Asher, petting the massive golden lion’s haunch.
“No,” Kira whispered, running to Asher’s side. Even in his lion form, Kira could see that he was badly hurt, his bones broken and blood seeping out in several places. She dropped to her knees, pushing away her intense weariness as she leaned down to press her face to his chest.
She closed her eyes, seeking their mate bond, reaching for him. She felt the dimmest flicker of recognition, then it faded.
Kira actually felt Asher go, sensed his spirit slipping away from her, fleeing the human world.
There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation in her heart, though she had no idea what the repercussions might be…
Kira let her head fall back, opened her arms in silent salute to the sky. She sent a wordless plea outward into the universe, projecting all her power and fear and anger in one burst. She searched for the curtain she’d seen back in the cemetery, the misty barrier she now understood to be the Veil.
As she willed it, the Veil appeared. Kira thrust her hands into it without hesitation, ripping a huge hole in it, big enough for her to walk through. Swallowing, she stuck one hand in, marveling at how heavy and cold the air felt on the other side.
The second she started to pass through the Veil, something strange happened. A few ghostly gray forms appeared, watching Kira closely. As she pushed further, they darted forward and slipped through the tear, each moving past her like an icy shiver. She looked back, but the forms were already drifting away, off to do whatever ghosts did…
Giving herself a shake, Kira turned back to the Veil and closed her eyes. Asher was just on the other side, nearly close enough to touch. She could feel him… almost.
With another deep breath, Kira stepped through the Veil and out of the human realm entirely.
14
Chapter Fourteen
The man stood on the rocky shore of a wide, placid lake. To his left stood a gracefully massive gray apple tree, leaves blooming the faintest shade of green, fruit red and shiny as fresh blood. Looking at the fruit seared the man’s eyes, made him realize that the entire world had been bled of color. When he glanced down at his hands, they were an eerie shade of gray that nearly matched the tree’s bark.
There was a mark on his left hand, a dark-lined tattoo of a bird. Staring at the tattoo made something in the man’s chest tighten and flutter at once, but for the life of him he couldn’t work out what it meant.
Frowning, the man lifted his hand to shade his gaze against the silver-bright sun on the horizon. In the far distance, he thought he detected a cluster of mountains, but they were much too far away for him to distinguish more than a vague shape against the sky.
Why was he here again?
The man felt that he was not supposed to be in this place at this moment in time, but he had no idea why. Come to think of it, he wasn’t at all sure who he was, much less what he should be doing instead of standing here, looking out over the lake.
Dragging his gaze back down, the man noticed a soft ripple crossing the lake’s mirror-smooth surface. Cocking his head, he watched intently as the water swirled, shifting to reflect an image up at him. Like a scrying mirror, he thought. Or a thousand scrying mirrors, more like.
The lake started to form a picture, and the man quickly realized he was watching himself, bits and pieces of his own story. He didn’t know much about his own story, but as he watched he was able to puzzle out some of it.
There was the man, staring at a jaw-droppingly pretty girl. She was young, younger than the man by years. The man in the lake stared at her with such painful, intense longing… then turned away, shaking his head.
The scene shifted. The man stalked through a thick jungle, holding a black automatic rifle in one hand and a machete in another. Three men in black-striped face paint sprung forward from the bushes and shot at him, and the man fell.
Standing and watching, the man lifted his hand and touched his chest where the bullets had hit, feeling a familiar pinch of pain. He grimaced, but the lake wasn’t done with him yet.
The beautiful blonde reappeared, a little older this time, her curves filled out in all the right places. The man saw himself pick her up off a perfectly manicured lawn, saw him kiss her with fervent hunger, saw himself holding her close as she slept.
His chest ached again, but this time it was different. Not a physical wound, maybe… more a wound of the heart. The man winced at the thought, which seemed… unlike him.
How did he know what he was like? He didn’t even know his name…
Shaking his head, chest growing tighter by the moment, the man turned away from the lake. To his shock, a little girl stood right behind him, staring up at him with the most gorgeous baby blue eyes he’d ever seen. Her heart-shaped face was framed with soft golden curls, her bright blue eyes rimmed with dark lashes…
The blonde woman. This was her daughter. The man knew nothing at all, but he would have wagered his life on that fact.
He tried to open his mouth to speak to her, but his lips wouldn’t budge. The man raised his hands in a helpless gesture. The little girl gave him a quick, tight smile and reached out, giving his hand a quick tap. Then she pointed to her left, drawing the man’s attention there.
A solid gray wall rose there, formed of seething, teeming mist. It just hovered there, waiting. The mist seemed familiar, but it made the hairs on the man’s neck rise. Danger, maybe. Uncertainty, at the very least.
When the man looked back, the girl was gone.
A white dove came into his line of vision, flying the opposite direction of the mist. When the man looked over that way, there was a glimmering white portal. He squinted, trying to see better, but he couldn’t make anything out. He could have sworn, though…
For a second, he thought he heard a child’s laughter. A delicate scent drifted toward him, something like the smell of freshly baked bread… The light seemed to reach out to him, and for the first time the man realized how cold he felt, fingers numb with it. The light seemed so warm and welcoming…
The wind whipped up around him and a leaf blew by, reminding him of the tree and the lake. Whirling in place, the man saw that the world was turning cold. The sun had faded, the tree had dropped all its leaves and fruit, scattering them with the chilling wind. At the edges of the lake, frost began to form, seeping outward and freezing the waves into a solid image.
The man. The beautiful blonde. The man was on the ground, the blonde sobbing over his prone form. Blood, so much blood…
The softest sound caught his attention, a whisper nearly lost on the wind. The man tried to concentrate, tried to listen. It sounded so sweet…
He turned toward the white portal, trying to suss out the sound. Once again, it beckoned. Fresh cut grass. A note of some long-forgotten melody. And that warmth, offering to take him away from this cold, dying place…
Asher.
Just as the man was about to move toward the white warmth, he heard the sound again. Louder this time. A single word, but…
The man turned away from the light, struggling to move. The frost from the lake was spreading toward him, creeping across the ground and up his legs.
Cold, so cold.
Asher!
There… the man looked toward the mist, and there she was. His beautiful blonde. One hand anchored in the mist, the other thrust out toward him, reaching. She moved in slow motion, her mouth working silently.
Asher, please! Came her disembodied cry. Don’t leave me!
Something in the man’s chest thudded dully, a sign of pain soon to come. He hesitated. He was just so tired, and the white portal had seemed so wonderful and quiet…
Please! Asher, I love you!
The man’s gaze wrenched back up to the woman. She had been vividly colored a moment before, but now he could see that the icy gray world was bleeding her dry. Her mouth moved, and the man could almost hear her voice, but the wind stole her words away.
I love you.
The man could not resist her. She was in danger, his blonde. She needed him, needed something from him…
Working against all that seemed possible, the man began to move toward her. Her eyes flared with excitement, her voice echoing in his ears over the thudding sound rising, rising to drown out the whole world.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Then, Yes, Ash! That’s it!
Almost there… he reached for her outstretched fingers, pushing himself along. He felt icy water welling at his feet, a
s if somehow he was standing knee-deep in a rushing river, the water clawing at him and trying to drag him down.
It would be so easy…
No. The woman needed him. He needed her, too. Needed to touch her, take the hand she held out…
His numb fingers caught hers, so hot that he nearly let go. Before he could react, she’d grasped his wrist in her burning grip, yanking him closer, her chest heaving with the obvious effort of it.
Kira. Kira… “Kira?”
“Yes, baby,” she said. “Come with me, okay?”
Asher let her tug him into the mist, his eyes drooping.
“I’ve got you, okay?” Kira whispered into his ear, her arms closing around his shoulders.
Of that, Asher had no doubt.
15
Chapter Fifteen
Asher jolted awake, rolling over and coughing, struggling for breath. When his eyes opened, he found himself in his bed, staring straight at an equally stunned Kira. A thick pile of quilts lay over their bodies, draped between them so that he could only see her face.
“I did it,” she gasped, her voice a hoarse whisper. “You’re still here.”
Asher pushed off the blankets with a grunt, his muscles strangely weak. He reached for Kira, a groan escaping his lips when his fingers closed around her arms. She was solid, real, tangible.
“Where… what…” Asher murmured, cutting off his own tangle of thoughts when he pulled Kira flush against his body. She shivered under his touch, her skin feverish against his own.
Or no… actually, his body was freezing, and she was merely warm.
“Ash,” Kira said, unshed tears making her eyes bright. “You were—”
Asher brought his lips to hers, yearning for more. More of her warmth, more of her touch. Desperate for reassurance. That place, the icy lake…
He didn’t need to know where it was, or what it meant. He already understood all he needed to know. He’d been so, so far away from Kira, and he would never let that happen again.