Rain of Ash: Skydancer Book 1 (The Zyne Legacy)

by Gwen Mitchell

  “What are you thinking?” Kean’s voice was soft, as if he didn’t want to disturb her.

  “That he was right,” she said, without actually thinking. She opened her eyes as Kean drove past the turn to her house. Was that intentional, or was he just tired?

  “Who was right?”

  “Lu—that guard.” In the corner of her vision, Kean stiffened. His foot got a little heavier. They drove past the second turn that could have looped them back to Mill Pike Road. Intentional, then.

  “What did he say to you?” It was clear from his tone the question wasn’t directed at her thoughtless reference, but was all-encompassing.

  Bri wasn’t in the mood to be drilled. She would fold way too easy in her current state. Her mind blundered for a loophole out of the conversation. “Just that I was getting in over my head.”

  “That Kinde shouldn’t be sticking his snout in our business. As far as being in over your head, me and Astrid have you covered. Besides, you’ve been doing pretty good on your own.” He gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze.

  “I know you guys are trying to help, but I still feel like I’m in the dark. You never even mentioned there were things you couldn’t tell me. For example, what exactly is a Kinde?” Obviously some kind of immortal, since she’d known Lucas centuries ago. She’d never heard any bedtime stories of the Synod’s security force, but Kean said it like a bad word.

  His jaw flexed. “A half-demon.”

  “Half demons? You mean to say there are full demons?” If the Hohlwen were real, why not? She had a feeling she still hadn’t tipped the scales on the freaky-shit-o-meter.

  He nodded. “That’s what we call beings from the Khaos realm. Eons ago, when the portals between our planes were open, some demons walked amongst us. They’re known as Fate Demons or Soldiers of Fortune. There are hardly any left here anymore, but they’re older than dirt and damn strong.”

  “Are they evil?”

  “They’re unpredictable. The only thing you can rely on is that they’re self-serving.”

  “But the Kinde are only half demon?”

  “As a result of the Fate Demons, we ended up with all sorts of demon-human mixes: goblins, incubi, succubi, drudes. When the Synod was forced to intervene to restore balance, most were exiled back to Khaos, but the Kinde found a loophole using the cycles of Zyne magic. They shift into another form at the full moon, usually a wolf.”

  The hair on her forearms stood up. It sounded preposterous, but then she remembered… A lone howl echoing through the night. Glowing eyes, circling, drawing closer. She hadn’t been afraid. A sharp laugh erupted from her throat. “Werewolves? Of course.”

  It made perfect sense in her little Fairy Tale gone wrong.

  “They’re more than that. Most of them are in service to the Synod now so they can keep tabs on them, but there are still rogues. When I served, I was on a detail that hunted down Kinde and Hohlwen that had stepped out of bounds. I’ve seen what they’re capable of.”

  She tried to imagine Kean working for the Synod as part of some sort of magical task force. While he clearly had the skills and strength, she couldn’t picture him there — that place was so cold and lifeless. His attitude about it made perfect sense now.

  “They can’t all be bad, though.” She hoped her voice didn’t betray how much she wanted that to be true. She and Lucas were linked somehow, and if he wasn’t to be trusted, then her instincts couldn’t be either.

  “The best policy is to stay away from immortals as much as you can. Humans, even Zyne, are only tools to them. They use us up and spit us out.”

  She wanted to argue that it seemed like the Synod was sort of the same, but she yawned instead, as the trials of the day caught up with her in a wave of sleepiness. It was a battle to keep her eyes open.

  They pulled into a long driveway off Division, beside a quaint two-story house with immaculately trimmed hedges. The front lawn was completely fenced-in. Two German Shepherds wagged their tails and tongues from the other side of the chain-link.

  Kean killed the engine and turned to face her. “You have a decade worth of stuff to learn, but you’ll have plenty of time to catch up after we find the bastard behind all of this.” He shifted to the middle of the bench seat and stroked her hair. “We’ll have the rest of our lives.”

  He kissed her temple and looked into her eyes. His were shining with sheer, stubborn belief. Her eternal optimist. Kean could see past the end of this battle. That vision gave him strength. And she — supposedly an Oracle — was mired so deep in it she couldn’t even see where it began anymore. She was a mess. A broken, glued-together wreck. He deserved better.

  He deserved the quiet country life he wanted: a pretty hometown girl waiting in his kitchen with his German Shepherds and a gourmet meal on the table. Kayaking trips on the weekends. Bri tried her damnedest not to put herself in that picture, and failed colossally. She couldn’t get past the image of Kean making passionate love to her on a secluded pebble beach beside a roaring bonfire.

  She’d spent so long convincing herself she didn’t want it, covering up the holes inside with a plaster of performances, dinner parties, and social engagements. Did she really think she had the courage to turn it down, when everything she’d longed for was right there in front of her? Feathering kisses across her nose and cheeks? Yeah right.

  She sighed and relaxed against him.

  “Come inside and get some rest. Everything will look better in the light of day.”

  Without any more words, Bri let him guide her into the dark house and up the creaky wooden stairs. He lifted her onto a soft mattress, peeled away her sweater, flipped off her shoes, and tucked her into a pile of covers that smelled like rain, and smoke, and mint. Like Kean. Like home.

  Barking. Loud, incessant barking. And the smell of bacon. Briana rolled out of the heavy blankets. Her rumpled clothes stuck to her body. Her hair felt like a matted snarl of tangles as she pulled it all the way free from its disintegrating French twist. Her mouth was pasty, but watering at the smell of food and coffee, which she followed to its source downstairs.

  “Morning, sunshine,” Kean greeted from over the sizzling stove. He wore blue jeans and a tight-fitting white T-shirt, and he had his boots on, as if he’d been up and about for a while. The barking came from the other side of a sliding glass door facing into the back yard.

  Briana scuffled towards the coffee pot, and Kean spun around to set a steaming mug in front of her, pecking her on the cheek. She quirked an eyebrow. “Thought you didn’t do mornings.”

  “Huh. Probably explains why it’s almost two in the afternoon.” He flipped a pancake artfully and winked.

  “Oh,” was the most articulate reply she could formulate. He’d let her sleep for fourteen hours. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept more than six. Aside from feeling like a contestant on one of those survival shows where they take away simple amenities for weeks, she felt…good. She settled into a torn vinyl seat at the Formica table and thumbed through a stack of old newspapers. She flipped through dates idly and realized it was Monday. Near two PM on Monday. Five PM New York time. She’d officially blown Eric off and hadn’t spoken to him in two days. She didn’t even know where her phone was.

  “What’s on your mind?” Kean set a heaping plate of food in front of her before settling at the other side of the table.

  Bri perked up, suddenly ravenous. Kean had prepared a veritable feast of all her favorite breakfast items — the ones she didn’t normally indulge in — bacon, sausage, fried potatoes, pancakes. She couldn’t help but smile. “Wow. I’m getting the royal treatment. So, you’re a culinary master when you’re not rescuing kittens, huh?”

  He cracked his knuckles dramatically. “I’m a man of many talents. Figured I’d treat you well while you’re my guest.”

  Her heart skipped into overdrive in response to that seemingly innocent comment, and she nearly dropped her fork.

  He chuckled. “Good?”

 
“Mmm,” she said. “Delicious. I was starving. Thank you.”

  “Nothing like what Astrid would have made,” he said. A brush of color highlighted his freshly-shaven cheeks. His hair was neatly combed, too.

  “I love breakfast.” She tried to hide her fool grin, but it was useless. Kean made her giddy inside. “I never take the time to eat a big breakfast anymore.”

  “Well, good, ‘cause it’s all I can make, other than grilled steak.”

  Bri snorted into her coffee. “You’ve increased your repertoire, then. It used to be just cereal and toast.”

  Kean shrugged. “I can microwave with the best of ‘em. The rest of the time I’m begging scraps off of Astrid or Cecelia.”

  Bri steered their chat clear of the stormier seas. “I’m not one to judge. I eat take-out four nights a week and left-overs the other three.”

  He smiled back, and they ate their meal in amiable silence. No doubt she and Kean could commiserate and grieve over what they had both lost until the sun went down and came up again. But she’d done enough of that. She had a new objective now, and needed to focus on being proactive.

  First order of business, getting bound into a coven. Then she would search through the vault for more clues, all the while trying to figure out how to un-block powers she hadn’t even known she was blocking. But first, she had one very delicate phone call to make. She rinsed her plate and set it on the counter. “Can I use your phone?”

  “There’s one on the headboard upstairs,” Kean answered. If his mouth hadn’t been full, it might have sounded surly.

  She stopped to kiss the top of his head as she walked by, then went to call Eric. His life was dictated by his Google® calendar. Now that their plans had slipped by, he would start to really fret. Conveniently, he didn’t pick up. He was probably flying. Bri couldn’t resolve anything via voicemail, but she was relieved she didn’t have to answer his questions or fight when he insisted she was irrational with grief and he was on the next flight to Seattle. The messy part had to be done sometime, but it would ruin a potentially peaceful day, or what was left of the day. She left him a message saying she would be staying for a while. She didn’t elaborate, just said she would call him again soon, because she had more to tell him.

  She sighed as she hung up. Avoidance. She was an old pro at it. She couldn’t straddle two lives forever. But even knowing how Eric would take it, she didn’t question the decision to end things. She didn’t agonize over hurting him, like she did with Kean. It was for the best. Eric loved the idea of her. He was a good man, had been good to her, but eventually, she would have fallen short. Or just become a hollow shell of herself. Karmically speaking, cutting him loose had to be better than committing them to a loveless marriage they would both be too polite to ever end.

  The flood of clear-headedness that came after a good night’s rest and a solid meal was humbling.

  She glanced over the cluttered dresser-top, then the rest of the room, and realized Kean was a total slob. The narrow walkways of floor between the peeling wallpaper and the overlarge bed were littered with clothes, shoes, dog toys, and various categories of outdoor debris. She ran one finger along the top of the six-foot high headboard and came away with a wad of dust-covered fur. She grimaced, wiping her hand on her jeans.

  The bed itself made an impression. It was so enormous it had to have been assembled in the room. The raw, knotted oak frame was sturdy and natural, just like the man who slept in it. She bit her lip imagining Kean’s powerful, naked body sprawled across the miles of mattress. Her breathing sped up as she envisioned the two of them there, and realized she could make it real. Would make it real. She glanced down at her day-old clothes and ran fingers through her tangled hair. Before any of that, she needed to feel like a woman and not some disaster victim.

  She yelled downstairs as she passed into the bathroom. “Kean, I’m taking a shower.”

  When she pulled the curtain back and stepped out of the tub, she found a stack of fresh towels, an unopened toothbrush, and clean clothes perched on the counter near the door. She pulled on the boxer shorts and too-big T-shirt, thankful she didn’t have to put her others back on. She combed her fingers through her hair and brushed her teeth, then snuck down the hall, pausing at the top of the stairs to listen. “Kean?”

  “In here,” he said. From the bedroom.

  She paused in the doorway, her heart thundering. Kean had cleared a path directly to the bed. He’d shoved the laundry piles off the mattress and put on fresh sheets, which he’d pulled all the way back. But what made Briana’s mouth go dry was the expanse of his bare chest and stomach against the fresh white cotton. He’d removed his boots and was stretched out on the bed in nothing but jeans. His arms were folded behind his head, ankles crossed.

  She felt a physical ache at the sight, a pang in her body that she’d somehow blocked out with all the rest of her feelings. Now she opened herself to it. She’d been living a half-life, barely holding it together, and then the world had tipped over and jumbled her up. Now all the messy pieces were scattered, waiting to be put back together one at a time. She would start with her heart.

  ***

  Kean sat up on his elbows, a mixture of awe and anticipation making his jaw slack.

  This is really going to happen.

  “Come on in.” He sounded way more cool than he felt. Bri stared for a long second, wet hair tumbling over her shoulders and soaking the front of her T-shirt. He patted the bed beside him.

  She laughed and shimmied around the bed to climb up from the other side. He drifted to the middle. She stretched out alongside him. “All right, you got me here. Now what do you plan to do with me?”

  He let his gaze roam lazily over the lush peaks and valleys of her body. “I plan to do quite a few things, Miss Spurrier, and I promise you’ll like every one of them.”

  A flame of desire flickered in the green depths of her eyes. She scooted a little closer. “What makes you so certain?”

  “I’ve seen it in my dreams,” he whispered against her neck before brushing his lips there. “‘Bout ten thousand times.”

  Bri was in his bed. Her magic had been flowing all along, and as he’d suspected, she could handle it. His every wish had come true, and now he would take his time enjoying it. He pulled her against him.

  Hard nipples brushed his chest through thin, wet cotton as she leaned in and dipped her tongue into the hollow of his throat, a spot she knew drove him nuts. The dreams hadn’t done her justice. His pulse kicked up. It took a tremendous effort to think straight with all his blood rushing south, but he was determined to do this right.

  He swallowed thickly. “But as I recall, you were supposed to be naked.”

  She gripped his arms as he drowned her in a hot, stroking kiss. Bri wiggled out of her clothes as he stripped them away, seeming just as desperate as he was to have the interfering fabric gone. His mouth watered at the thought of having her completely at his mercy, nothing for her to hide behind.

  When she was naked on her back, lifting up to meet his hands as they learned every inch of her skin, she breathed his name. Exactly what he wanted to hear, just not loud enough. He swirled his tongue around one nipple, then sucked it into his mouth. She smelled like his soap, his clothes. He reached between her legs, anxious to feel the silkiest part of her. She whimpered and ground against his palm as his finger slid inside.

  His cock throbbed, almost to the point of pain, and he hissed in a breath.

  “Kean.”

  “That’s it, baby.” He crept down her body. “I want you so hot and wet for me you can’t hold back. You’re going to beg me for it, Bri.” If he could wait that long. The sight of her naked breasts rising and falling as she panted, her eyes mere slits of green, her lips full and pouty… he reminded himself to breathe.

  “Please, Kean.”

  His chest rumbled in satisfaction as he spread her legs and trailed light kisses down her creamy thighs. He’d never been so turned-on in his life. Desire f
or this woman had compounded over years of yearning, not to mention the past few days of unimaginable restraint and bad timing. A fever roared through his veins. Blood pounded in his ears. What would she taste like?

  Bri threw her head back into the pillow when his mouth sealed over her flesh. She tasted like summertime — apricots and honey. He was instantly drunk. Addicted. He wanted to stroke her like that forever. But he also wanted to see her break loose. Wanted her to burn for him the way he did for her. He lashed his tongue against her in a ravenous rhythm, with complete and total focus. It was too good. He had to pull back, tease them both with light kisses until she lifted her hips off the bed, moaning for more.

  “You taste so good, baby.”

  “Don’t stop.” She rubbed her hands over her breasts. “Please.”

  He gripped her hips and yanked her down to him, fingers digging into the giving flesh of her ass. His tongue whipped against her, building her higher and higher. For every sound she made, he went harder, until her hips tried to buck to meet him.

  “Kean!” She cried out, fisting the sheets. He growled his approval as she came for him in a succulent rush, then teased her some more, until she pushed with her heels to get away.

  He wanted inside her something fierce, but let her sink back to the mattress, muscles quivering. A fine sheen of sweat covered her skin. Her eyes were closed. Every part of him swelled with longing and pride. He’d never seen anything more beautiful than Bri sated by his touch. But he would. Seeing her writhe beneath him as he lost himself inside her would be better.

  He slid off the bed, and shucked his jeans.

  ***

  “Look at me, Bri.”

  Kean’s bare thigh brushed hers. She pulled her heavy lids open to find him kneeling between her legs, totally naked and fully aroused. He was completely unselfconscious, as if he had no idea how beautiful he was. The power of his intense focus made her skin feel hot and ripe, ready to burst. His jaw was set with triumph. His eyes burned like golden flames from under blue-green water, fathomless and hypnotizing.