Caress of Darkness

by Julie Kenner

  “Yes,” she says. “We do. Look.” Her voice softens and I feel a gentle pressure as she takes my hand and squeezes my fingers. “Welcome back, Callie. You’re going to be just fine.”

  “Callie?” Raine’s voice is urgent, and it is his hand I feel next. Strong and warm and safe. Despite everything—or maybe because of everything—I am certain that he will keep me safe.

  “Come on, angel. Open your eyes. I’m fine, and you’re fine, and I need you to open your eyes. Everything else can wait, but I need to see you. I need to know that you’re okay.”

  I hear the urgency in his voice, the fear and the pain, and it twists at my heart. And somehow I manage to claw my way up through the fog.

  My eyes flutter open, and the first thing I see is Raine’s gorgeous face. The tight line of his mouth matching the worry in his eyes. And then it fades, and those beautiful blue irises shine even as his mouth curves into a smile of pure relief.

  “Thank god,” he says, then lifts my hand to his mouth and gently kisses my palm.

  “You came after me.”

  “I did. I almost didn’t. I’ve told myself so many times that no matter how much I want and need you, that I can’t force your hand. And yet I couldn’t simply stay back. Not with you running from me in fear. I had to at least make sure you were okay.”

  “I wasn’t. Those men.” I shudder. “Thank you.”

  “It was my pleasure. Except of course for the dying part. That is never much fun.”

  “That really happened?” My voice is coarse, my throat raw. “I didn’t hallucinate? You really burned?”

  “I really burned.”

  I frown, trying to wrap my mind around that, then take a sip from the glass of water he holds for me. As he bends close, I see the wing of a bird peeking out from his collar to rise up his neck. “That’s new,” I say, reaching out to stroke it.

  “It is. La petite mort, as you said. With each death, I get a new mark.”

  I shake my head. “I feel like this should be making sense, but it’s not. The only thing I’m sure of is that you were telling me the truth—although I still don’t entirely understand what that truth is. And I didn’t believe you. I’m sorry.”

  “You have no reason to be,” he says as I scoot up on the bed, moving back to make room for him beside me. I take the opportunity to look around and don’t recognize the room.

  “The guest quarters. I wasn’t sure you’d want to go back to my room.”

  I can’t help but smile. Even with the horrible things I said to him, he is still taking care of me.

  I draw a breath. “So back up. You die. And when you do you burn? And when you burn you get a tattoo?”

  “A nice summary, though it leaves out some of the finer points.” He traces up and down my fingers, and though I don’t pull my hand away, the contact is both intimate and distracting. “What do you know of alternative dimensions?”

  “About as much as you know about Tom Hanks’ movies.”

  I’m grateful for the smile that flickers on his lips. “Then I’ll give you the concise version. There are other dimensions that exist parallel to ours, and with the right technology, they can be traveled. In my world, a very long time ago, I was part of an elite team sent to recover a malevolent energy that had become uncontained.”

  “A bad guy.”

  “Very much.”

  “In our dimension, energy is sentient.” He frowns, obviously trying to figure out how to make that more clear. “You don’t need a body. You just need what in your world might be called a soul.”

  “No body? No physical love.”

  “Not as you understand it. No skin on skin, body against body. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t feel passion, connection, sensuality. Even climax. It just means that there is no point of reference that can help me explain what it is like to make love in my dimension.”

  “I feel like I should understand,” I admit. “Like I almost do, even. As if I’m reaching for something in a dream.”

  “Livia,” he says, and I nod. Because like it or not, I now believe that is true, though I am no closer to fully understanding it.

  “So you didn’t have a body?”

  “Again, it’s difficult to explain. Yes, and no. We had form inside the consciousness. Like an avatar. Or a dream. It wasn’t until we arrived here in this dimension and on this planet that we acquired this human form.” He grins. “And while I will not say that one is better than the other, I will say that the pleasure that can be had with a body of flesh and blood rises to a level that I never imagined in my youth.”

  I smirk. “You must have liked it. From my perspective, I’m willing to bet you had a lot of practice.”

  He smiles in response, and I know that I’d said the right thing, lightening the moment just a bit. Because this is heavy stuff we are talking about, and though I know I won’t understand all of it, I am trying. Both to understand, and to believe.

  “So you became human after you chased the energy—”

  “We call it the fuerie.”

  I nod. “Okay. So you chased it to this dimension?” I’m proud of myself for keeping that much straight, and I say a silent thank you to reruns of Star Trek and my love of science fiction movies.

  “Exactly. You don’t need to know all the details, and to be honest, I don’t want to relive them. Suffice it to say that there was an accident. We crashed here, on earth, and so did the fuerie. We melded with a party of traveling warriors and wise men and women sent by an Egyptian prince to follow a comet they had seen racing across the sky.”

  “You.”

  “Us,” he affirms. “I’m human now, albeit immortal.”

  I nod, figuring that I could get more details on all of that later. “And the bad guy?”

  “It crashed nearby and forced itself—or bits of itself— into unwilling human shells before riding to our location to attack.” He drew in a breath. “The battle was hard-fought and many of the humans who had traveled with the warriors’ party were killed, and many of the fuerie escaped. And until we can reopen the void and send it back, it is our duty to track down the fuerie and destroy it, in whatever form or forms it has taken.”

  “You can send it back?”

  “The amulet your father was searching for is the last of seven pieces that can reopen the void and direct the fuerie back to our dimension.”

  “So that’s why you wanted it.”

  “That,” he says. “And so that I could go back.”

  “Go back?” Something cold, like dread, washes over me. “You’re going away?”

  “No.” The word is harsh and firm and I am instantly relieved. “Not anymore. But I won’t lie to you. I’ve been lost. Reckless. I wanted to get back because I thought Livia was lost during the battle. The fuerie created a rift, and I thought that she’d been thrust into it. I thought she was gone. Neither in this dimension nor any other.” He meets my eyes. “For creatures made of pure energy, that is the essence of death.”

  I nod. “So you were grieving.”

  “I was, yes. But it was more than that.” He runs a hand over his head. “In our world, when two beings mate, it is a permanent melding that even death doesn’t shatter. How could it when, for beings of pure energy, death does not exist?”

  I frown, not sure I’m following.

  “Don’t you see? I was grieving for Livia, true. But I was also grieving for myself, and my knowledge that I would spend eternity alone.”

  I suck in a breath as understanding washes over me. “That’s heartbreaking.”

  “It’s part of who we are. Or who we were. Those of us in the brotherhood aren’t truly one or the other anymore.” An ironic smile tugs at his mouth. “It’s a brave new world.”

  Since I don’t know what else to do, I squeeze his hand, and am gratified when he squeezes back.

  “And in all this time, you never once felt her presence?”

  “Not once. But keep in mind that the world is a very big place. And three tho
usand years passes in the blink of an eye to a creature made purely of energy. Even to those of us in the brotherhood, time moves at a different pace than for pure humans.”

  “I think my head is spinning. I want to understand it all, but I have so many questions and all the answers are coming at me at once.”

  “I know. Suffice it to say that for a very long time, I was lost. I was reckless. When I lost hope that we would ever find the final amulet, I chased death. I took unnecessary risks.”

  “But you’re just reborn,” I point out. “Not fun, maybe. But why is it a risk?”

  “I wanted the pain,” he says, his voice so low I can barely hear it. “And eventually, I wanted to just be hollow.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”

  “A body can only take so many deaths. Then something switches, usually with no warning. I had a warning tonight. I am running out of free passes. Too many more burns and I will be hollow, my humanity lost.”

  I swallow as cold fingers of fear grab me. “You risked that for me?”

  “I would risk more than that for you.”

  “Because of Livia,” I say flatly.

  “Some part of her essence is inside you, yes. We call it transference.”

  “And that’s different than you? The way you—what did you call it?—melded with the wise men?”

  “The prince was a man who had visions, and he had sent his wise men prepared and with a mission. We merged with them at a genetic, bodily level, and with their consent. But transference remains a process of energy. Like you think of a soul. Or what you might call reincarnation.”

  The thought makes me shiver. “So she’s just there? Inside me?”

  “Yes and no.” He frowns. “These things aren’t easy to understand or explain. She is there, yes, because energy can neither be created nor destroyed.”

  “Einstein.”

  “He got that right, yes. But it can be changed. And at least some of Livia—of her essence—is part of you. Inseparable now. And dormant, though that is the wrong word, as it suggests she is only sleeping and could wake and take over. She can’t. She is you and you are her.”

  I hug myself, feeling overwhelmed. What I’m not, however, is freaked out.

  I’m not entirely sure if that’s a good sign or a bad.

  “You thought she was gone.” I pause because I’m trying to organize my thoughts. “But she didn’t know you believed that. She thought you left her.”

  “I suppose.”

  “No,” I say with certainty. “She did.” I meet his eyes. “I think that fundamental belief is an ingrained part of me. Not just because my mother left me, but because that fear of being loved and then pushed away is deep inside me.”

  “Oh, god, Callie.” The pain is clear in his voice.

  “It’s not your fault,” I say. “It was a mistake. And honestly, I’m glad to understand.”

  Raine, however, looks unconvinced, and very guilty.

  Since that wasn’t my intent, I cast about for another question. “The men who attacked me—why were they looking for the amulet?”

  “The fuerie was inside them. They want to open the void as well. If they have all the pieces of the amulet, they can escape this world and run wild across all dimensions. If we have all the pieces, we can send them back through to a containment center. Or we could open a rift and thrust them into the netherworld between dimensions, essentially destroying them.”

  I nod, thinking that over. “Okay. But how do you know for sure the fuerie was in them? Maybe it was just an old-fashioned mugging.”

  “I could see it in them.”

  That surprises me. “Really? So does that mean you can see Livia, too?”

  “No. As I said, you and she are one, though I can feel her essence in the core of you. In order to survive, Livia made a choice all those years ago. The fabric of your dimension doesn’t allow us to remain unbound as energy for long. So Livia had to either allow her energy to merge with a human’s, or fill the human and remain separate. But that is violent and disrespectful, and is not our way. It is what the fuerie did.”

  “Possession,” I say. “When you hear a story about demonic possession, it is the fuerie?”

  “More often than not,” he affirms. “As much as I’ve told you, I’m still only scratching the surface.”

  I nod because I’ve already figured that out. How could he possibly explain in just one conversation everything there is to know about how beings of pure energy interact with our world?

  I cast about for a less complicated question. “So when you see the fuerie, what does it look like?”

  “Flame. Heat. Energy. It’s the foundation of our world. You could have seen it too, if you were properly trained. I’m surprised you didn’t, actually, since you were scared. Often adrenaline triggers the reflex.”

  I frown because something about that sounds familiar. I can’t imagine why, though, and I temporarily push the thought away. Right now, I’m about to go into information overload. Still, I can’t stop asking questions. “You killed them? With that weird blade?”

  “A fire sword. It’s a weapon of the Phoenix Brotherhood. I go nowhere without it.”

  “You don’t really have a security company.”

  Now his grin turns boyish. “Absolutely we do. And we have one hell of an elite clientele. It’s a useful cover for our search for the fuerie. And many of our cases are entirely legit and unconnected to our original mission.”

  “So can I see it? The fire sword.”

  He laughed. “It burned in the fire. Usually I manage to toss it clear before collapsing, but not this time. I’ll have to forge a new one. But I promise to let you watch.”

  We share a smile, and I feel something between us click back into place. I like it. And something in that gentle moment triggers the thought I’d been searching for earlier.

  “Dad told the paramedic he saw a face in flames.”

  I can tell I’ve hit on something interesting by the expression on Raine’s face. “Did he?”

  “Why could he see them if you have to have some of your world’s energy inside you?”

  “Because of you.”

  “Me?”

  “Livia.”

  “Oh.” Automatically, I hug myself, then tug the blanket up higher on my legs.

  “I think she must be attached to your family.”

  I nod because things are starting to make sense. “So when Daddy came to me in a dream, it was real?”

  “It was real,” Raine says. “And you can speak to him as well.” He squeezes my hand. “It will be dreamlike at first, but with time you can communicate as easily as talking.”

  It takes me a second to process what he’s saying. “So even if Daddy doesn’t wake up—”

  “So long as he’s in there, he can get out.”

  I close my eyes, and warm tears spill down my cheeks. “He knows that, I think.” I sniff and wipe the tears, then manage a watery smile. “He gave me a clue about where to find the journal. It was filed under my name. Not C, but O.” I meet Raine’s eyes, then hesitate, not sure I want to tell him the rest.

  His brow creases with a frown. “What?”

  I take a breath and tell him. “My given name is Olivia.”

  For a moment, he just looks at me. “And your father is Oliver.” He nods as a slow smile spreads across his face. “Another piece of the puzzle slips into place.”

  He shakes his head as if in amazement. “Dear god, I have loved you for an eternity, and I will never lose you again.”

  He pulls me close and holds me tight, but despite the fire that I now know burns in this man, I still feel cold, and the shiver that runs through me is one of apprehension and fear. And, I think, of loneliness.

  Chapter 10

  An hour later, I’m curled up in one of the plush leather recliners in the VIP room at Dark Pleasures. Beside me, Jessica is telling me about the last mission she went on with Liam.

  “To Prague, which was an a
bsolute treat as we stayed a week even after the job was done. We’d lived there once, but that was well before indoor plumbing, and this was a big improvement.”

  I like the stories, and I definitely like Jessica, but I feel as though she thinks she knows me, but of course she doesn’t. Livia, perhaps. But I am not her. And I can’t help but fear that all of the brethren, Jessica included, have forgotten that very basic fact.

  Across the room, Liam and Dante are bent over the chessboard while Raine and Mal are deep in conversation at a small table tucked into a corner.

  After a few moments, Raine comes over, and I hold out my hand. He bends to kiss me in greeting, the gesture warm and comfortable and familiar.

  “They all think they know me.” The words are out before I have time to think about them, and I realize that this has been bothering me more than I have let myself realize.

  “You’re mine. Of course they want to know you.”

  “They think they already do.”

  He nods slowly. “But that’s true. At the core of it, at least.” He bends to kiss me, and I curl my arms around his neck, wanting something more from him, though I’m not sure what.

  “I love you,” he whispers, voicing the words for the very first time. But instead of filling me, the words seem to hang heavy inside me.

  “I love you, too,” I say, then brush a kiss over his lips to camouflage my confusion and strange, dark thoughts. I shift in my chair, then lever myself up, feeling suddenly antsy. I smile, as if there is nothing in the world on my mind, and ask him if he wants a drink. Then while he takes the chair, I go to the bar and pour myself a shot. I toss it back, and as I do, I see my reflection in the mirror behind the bar.

  Me.

  Callie Sinclair.

  So why do they all see Livia?

  I look harder, and I cannot deny that I can find her inside me. The truth is there—Livia is part of me. Her core. Her essence. Her soul. Whatever you want to call it, it has become a part of me. And perhaps that piece of her is part of the reason that I fell in love so quickly and completely. But that does not make me her.

  She is not who I am. The girl in the mirror is not Livia.

  I close my eyes because although Raine might understand that with his head, until his heart understands, I can’t make this work.