“Who, or what, should I say, is Onix?” I question.
“Onix is a dark mystic, a very powerful witch. They practice their mysticism through spell weaving,” Asher interjects. “Because they only speak through telepathy, they’re forced to use their hand gestures to create their enchantments. Hence the term spell weaver.”
“And you think this dark mystic—,” Gage starts.
“Onix,” Nassa states flatly, cutting him off.
“Onix,” he repeats with a slight annoyance to his tone, “can help Galena?”
Nassa shrugs, continuing to avoid Gage’s eyes. “The mystic might know something about the dark magic surrounding the panther’s aura,” she explains. Okay, this isn’t awkward.
“When do we leave?” I ask, trying to cut the tension.
Asher’s callous laugh vibrates in my ear. “No, siren. Not this time.”
“Excuse me?” I step away from his hold. What the hell?
“Dark mystics live in solitude and are aloof. They are highly evolved and intelligent and their messages can be . . . cryptic and confusing. The human mind is fragile. A mundane who goes before them could become mentally unstable,” Asher points out.
“Are you saying if I look upon this spell weaver, I’ll go mad?” I clarify.
Asher’s expression tightens. “It’s possible and it’s not a risk I’m taking with you.”
We hold one another’s headstrong glares. “I can handle myself, Asher.”
“Your light source is useless in a magical cavern. Fear and pain don’t register with spell weavers. Do you understand?” he asks. “You will stay here.”
I narrow my eyes at his dominance and turn to Nassa. “Who else is going?” I ask her, ignoring Asher as he mutters under his breath about how stubborn and infuriating I am.
“My candle magic is strong enough now to transport four,” Nassa replies.
“Then Keegan, McKenna and I will join you, Nassa,” Asher states.
“Actually, dark prince, I’ll be joining you and Nassa,” Gage interrupts. “Not negotiable.”
Nassa’s entire demeanor becomes crestfallen at his words. “Gallagher,” she growls.
Gage leans on the wall behind him, bending one of his legs so his foot is resting on it.
“There’s no way in hell you’re going to a spell weaver without me, buttercup.”
At his severe tone, the rest of us avert our gazes, knowing what’s coming next. Never engage a sorceress. Never. Nassa snaps her angered attention to Gage, dramatically flicking her black and purple streaked hair over her petite shoulder.
“I don’t need your protection.”
“I’m not interested in protecting you.”
“Then why the fuck do you want to come?” she challenges.
He shrugs and pulls out a cigarette, rolling it through his fingers. “I’d like to meet Onix.”
“What?” she says on an aggravated breath.
Gage casually pushes off the wall. “Magical caverns and shit sound fun.”
Nassa stands taller as Gage makes his way to her, looming over her tiny frame.
“Fun?” she repeats.
“Like we were supposed to have had last night.” Gage taunts her in a seductive voice.
I inwardly cringe. If I was on the receiving end of Gage’s panty-dropping looks and sexy tone, I think I would be a puddle of water by now. Point Nassa for holding her own.
“Fuck off, Gallagher.” She spins to leave, but he gently grabs her arm.
“I’m coming with you. End of discussion,” he states, staring deeply into her wide eyes.
“I don’t want you to,” Nassa counters.
“This isn’t about what you want, buttercup. It’s about what I need,” he replies.
After a few moments of boring their heated gazes into one another, Nassa nods, giving in.
“Fine.” She pulls her elbow out of his grasp angrily. “Come. Maybe I’ll get lucky and you’ll go mad.”
“One can only hope,” McKenna mumbles under her breath behind me.
Gage lifts his unlit cigarette, bringing it to his mouth. “I thought you liked it when I came, buttercup,” he murmurs. “Besides, you’ve already turned me batshit crazy.”
“I really despise you.” Nassa releases a tight smile before turning on her heels.
Gage watches her retreating form before snapping his unlit cigarette in two and throwing it against the wall. “Goddamn stubborn-ass sorceress,” he barks out.
Asher tilts his chin toward Gage. “You and Nassa? How’s that working out for you?”
“Screw you, dark prince,” Gage snaps and saunters out of the room leisurely.
“Guess that only leaves one more spot for me,” I exclaim, victoriously.
“No,” Asher replies.
I fold my arms over my chest and give him a pointed look. “I don’t care how dark and broodingly sexy you are. The next time you say no to me, I will end your existence.”
Asher arches an eyebrow. “Using your daggers?”
I cock my head in challenge. “Care to find out?”
A silent beat passes between us. “You win, siren,” he concedes matter-of-factly.
“Holy shit! Did anyone else feel that?” Callan questions and we all look around, confused.
“Feel what, baby?” Abby asks her mate with an amused expression.
“The chill? I think hell just froze over,” he responds with a shit-eating grin. “I do believe his highness, the great and menacing Asher St. Michael, just submitted to his human mate.”
Keegan laughs. “I believe it’s called being whipped.”
Asher just shrugs. “Submission is underrated. Isn’t that right, siren?” He looks me up and down with a sexy eye roam. “Not to mention, I’ll be there to protect you.”
I smile at his antics. “Now that you’ve submitted to me, perhaps I’ll protect you.”
“Good to know you both will be using protection during submission,” Callan muses.
My eyes roll and slide to the adorable gargoyle. “Charming.”
“In all seriousness, be careful. Dark mystics aren’t to be taken lightly,” Keegan warns.
“I always am, brother.” Asher assures him with a pat on the back.
Abby takes my hand in hers. “Come on, Eves. I have the perfect outfit for a cavern trip.”
I groan as she drags me out of the room. “I take it back, I don’t want to go.”
The smell of musty, damp earth assaults me as we make our way down the darkened tunnel composed of rocks and soil. The stench is off-putting. It smells like the inside of a damaged soul. There are no plants, no animals, and no life. I shiver at the thought as we descend into the cool, stale air.
The knee-high, flat boots Abby chose for me sink into the dirt path with each step. I try to keep my breathing even in an attempt to not panic as we walk through the earthy passageway. An almost impossible feat since it feels like it’s closing in on me with every movement.
I sigh and wipe the sweat and dirt from my hands onto my jeans. Thank goodness Abby forced me to wear the dark ones. After what feels like an eternity, Asher stops the group from moving any further.
My lips part when I see the opening in the cavern’s mouth. Darkness extends for miles, lit only by the amber glow of a small, ancient city built within the grotto. I take in the sight with unease as my gaze floats between two castles, sitting atop a peak, looking down on the ancient city.
“Welcome to Xnuk Ek’,” Asher says.
“Xnuk Ek’?” I repeat with trepidation.
“It’s Mayan for evening star, love,” Gage answers. Why does that sound familiar?
“Evening star?” I play with the words. “Doesn’t Lucifer’s name mean the morning star?”
Gage slides his gaze to me. “This realm is named after Venus. It’s the first star to shine in the evening and the last to fade at dawn. It’s said that Lucifer was created at dawn. The mystic’s statement is poetic when you think about it, love.”
<
br /> “How so?” I ask.
Gage places an unlit cigarette to his mouth before he speaks. “They will be the last to fade at the hands of the one born at dawn,” he replies, flicking open his lighter, and at the same time, inhaling the nicotine from his habit.
I find myself in a trance, watching Gage’s agitated movements with curiosity. His face is shadowed as he shakes his head and draws in another deep inhale. The glowing embers of his cigarette reflect briefly in his sea-green eyes. I’m curious as to what has him so worked up.
“The settlement is divided into separate compounds.” Nassa’s voice cuts through my stupor, pulling my focus back to the ancient city below us. “To the right, where you see the small mud huts with the straw roofs, that’s where the less-powerful mystics live. On your left, the stone building is the Temple of Rituals. In the middle, you’ll see the Pyramids of the Sun and Moon. They’re laid out on a geometric pattern for sacrifices. The large fortress on the ledge, the one with the fireflies circling the drum tower, houses Aigle, the light mystic. The backlit monument in between the two castles is Ometeotl, the Lord of Duality. The palace on the right, surrounded by shadows, is where the dark mystic can be found,” she points out.
“What’s the alcove with all the lit candles?” I ask.
“Sacred ground. Where the dual mystics were supposedly created,” Asher adds. “One of light and one of dark.”
My eyes lift to the enclosed dome of the township, and a feeling of dread washes over me. I’ve come to the realization that there is only one way in and out. Crap.
“Let’s get this over with, yeah?” Asher sighs and steps toward the dark castle.
Half an hour later, we reach the first gatehouse protecting the fortress’ entrance. As we cross over the bridge, Nassa tugs on the back of my shirt, forcing me to face her.
I offer the sorceress a curious expression while she silently takes my hand, placing a smooth stone in it. Meeting my gaze, she folds her hand around mine so the mineral is secure.
“It’s eye agate mixed in with beryl and mugglestone. It will protect you from dark magic. The mugglestone sends evil spells back to the sender, acting like a mirror, so hold it at all times, Eve. I mean it,” Nassa instructs. “Don’t fuck around with this. Do you understand?”
I nod and offer a small smile. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”
She tightens her grip on my hand and begins to quietly chant in Latin. Within seconds, I feel a warmth wrap around my head, like a blanket. Then suddenly, it’s gone.
“What the hell was that?” I whisper.
“I placed a protective barrier around your mind. The dark mystics speak in circles. Like Asher explained, sometimes it’s too much for humans to take in. You will be no use to anyone if you go mad,” she adds. “Don’t tell Asher or Gage I’ve spelled you, okay?”
I pull my brows together. “Why not?”
Her expression turns to surprise. “I thought you wanted to prove to them you could do this? No offense, but your chances of surviving a spell weaver without my magic are slim to none. You’d be in a padded cell faster than you can blink.”
“You’re helping me . . . to show Asher and Gage up?” I question with skepticism.
“Trust me, it’s more for my enjoyment than yours,” she offers me a secretive smile.
“Where is your Noir?” Her familiar is usually present.
“Crows hate mystics,” she replies offhandedly.
“All right then,” I mumble lamely to myself and we follow the group.
Every so often, Nassa says something that reminds me she is the niece of Sorceress Lunette. Both are unique and oddly quirky. Must run in the family. Or is it a witch thing? Focus, Eve.
“Any idea on how we get in?” Asher asks, staring at the wooden door we’ve approached.
Gage lifts the circular black wrought iron handle and pushes the door open with force.
Asher nods his head. “Logical.”
“Good to know I’m useful for something,” Gage states and we step in.
It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the inky inner ward. It’s pitch black and frigid.
“We should probably make our way to the keep since it’s the highest point. My guess is it’s where we’ll find Onix,” Asher suggests, taking my hand in his and pulling me closer.
“What is a keep?” I inquire.
Asher looks at me as if I’ve asked him what chocolate was. “The strongest and most secure place in the middle of a castle,” he responds. “Common knowledge, siren.”
“Guess I missed Professor Davidson’s lecture on castle structures,” I banter.
“You should have paid less attention to the sexy, awesome gargoyle to your left and shown more interest in the incredibly dull and astute architecture professor,” he reprimands.
“Lesson learned,” I quip sarcastically as he drags me through the dark.
After navigating a few circular stone staircases and exiting the tower, we make our way down a long hall. At the end is an open arch exuding a faint blue light. On instinct, one of my hands tightens around the stone Nassa gave me while the other squeezes Asher’s.
As we step into the cerulean glow, my lips part. Across from where we stand is a stone balcony, overlooking the ancient city below. It runs the length of a full wall and has floor-to-ceiling slim arched openings. It’s framed on either side by unmoving, sheer burgundy curtains, hidden behind an oversized brown and gold marble spiral column.
Huge palm trees are sprinkled throughout the space. Apparently dark mystics prefer island motif. I snort-laugh at my own thought before my eyes land on an oversized brass birdcage. The cage is empty but it’s emanating a golden glow. Odd.
“Guess that would explain Noir’s mystic aversion,” I whisper, nodding to the enclosure.
Nassa gives me a told-you-so glance and focuses her attention on a low glass table decorated with a crystal carafe and glasses. Both are filled with a red liquid secreting vapor.
“The cage contains a protected portal,” she rasps.
A slight motion to the left has me shifting my focus to an . . . um . . . hermaphrodite? What in the hell? Though the androgynous figure’s body is curvy and voluminous like a woman’s, its face is angular and strong like a male’s. The stranger’s skin is pure white with gold tribal tattoos from its neck to its bare feet.
The genderless being is wearing a brass belt adorned with a slim, long piece of cloth covering a noticeable bulge under the fabric between its legs. Brass covers hide the nipples on its generous female breasts. The only additional piece of clothing is a sleeveless, floor-length robe made of red and gold silk. It has a high collar that sits straight like peacock’s tail.
The being sits motionless. It doesn’t even acknowledge our presence. A mass of long, thick, curly black hair is pushed off its face with a brass and ruby crown featuring the head of a snake. A chill runs through me and I try not to pee my pants when I take note of the chocolate boa constrictor rolling over the hermaphrodite’s body, like some weird fashion accessory. Holy crap this is insane.
The unknown entity is relaxing casually on a red velvet chaise lounge, ignoring our mere existence. I study its snow-white face, blood-red lips and black-outlined white eyes, which are focused on the oddity in the middle of the room. Just when things can’t get stranger . . .
A liquid female form floats over a circular pond of water, elegantly decorated with large jade lily pads and enormous white lotus flowers. Her naked figure is completely transparent. I can see right through her body and her skin is in constant motion, smooth like glass.
This live water statue is the female replica of the being on the chaise. Every detail of her body matches, except this one is undressed and her skin is clear, completely without matter. It’s like I’ve stepped into one of Gustav Klimt’s paintings.
“Mystics love erotic dualism, love.” Gage’s voice is at my ear in a low tone. “Even though the male has gender neutral parts, he is the dual form of the fluid female in the p
ond.”
“This is a complete mindfuck,” I exhale.
“You haven’t seen anything yet, siren,” Asher groans.
“Why have you come?” Neither being’s lips move, but the sound escapes the female.
“Thought transference.” Asher reminds me of how they communicate.
“I’m totally going to need therapy after this.” I meet Asher’s questioning expression. “I mean, more so than I already do.”
“Noted.” He smirks, amused.
Nassa pushes her shoulders back and begins to take a step toward the being on the chaise, but Gage grabs her hand before she can, refusing to release her.
The sorceress looks down at their connection with irritation. “Let go, Gallagher.”
“I don’t think I can, buttercup,” he admits on a long breath.
Chapter 6
Cruelty of Youth
A dark shadow passes over us and a flash of red catches my eye. I watch the creature on the sofa, whose pallid eyes have turned cherry, with apprehension. My jaw clenches as I push down the fear and compel myself not to run, but instead to stay where I am, next to Asher.
“Why have you come?” the water form asks again with unmoving lips.
Nassa squirms out of Gage’s death grip, using a spell. Clever. She huffs out her annoyance and authoritatively approaches the floating liquid female, unafraid. Girl has balls.
“To seek truth in the endless days the shifter suffers from,” Nassa answers.
“One who cannot be heard must be silenced,” the mystic replies cryptically.
“Are you implying someone hurt her on purpose, so she wouldn’t talk?” the sorceress attempts to decipher. “Why? Galena is an innocent in all of this.”
“Wounded conditions are consequences of betrayal,” the male thought-transfers.
My vision slides to Asher, who has his brows knitted. He shifts on his feet in agitation.
“Betrayal?” Nassa repeats in a confused voice.
“Bring forth the children of light and dark, sorceress,” the feminine form demands.
Nassa’s steady gaze flicks to mine before lowering to my hand wrapped around the stone she gave to me. Her intense stare never drops from my closed fist, while Asher guides us toward the mystic. Once he and I approach the liquid figure, Nassa steps away, and in an instant, Gage is by her side.
Restoration Page 7