by Sable Grace
Her bitter laugh fanned his face. “But you ended up fucking me anyway. I guess that means you quit seeing those things in me? Finally saw that a good screw was my best asset?”
Ryker wanted to punch the wall. He would have if he’d thought it might have done any good. “I made love to you because I finally realized I’d rather have the smallest piece of you than nothing at all.”
Her laughter died and her expression turned solemn. “You’re saying things you think I want to hear. I just want the truth from you. Even if it’s ugly and makes me call you a bastard for having the balls to say it.”
She jerked out of his arms and paced the tiny cell. “I’ll tell you what you’re too afraid to say. You loathe everything I value, value everything I loathe. You think I’m a bitch. That I’m heartless because I can’t find compassion for a race that—”
Ryker held his breath, watched her, waited . . . hoped. This was as close as she’d ever come to mentioning her past. He knew what had happened to her, he’d seen it, lived it in her nightmares. It would be so simple for him to say the words she couldn’t bring herself to say, but he wanted her to trust him enough to share that part of her with him.
“A race that what, Ky? Tell me.”
“Nothing. Nothing but Haven matters to me now and I’m stuck here, helpless to do anything to save her.”
Disappointed that she still didn’t trust him with the truth of her past, he gently tugged her chin his way, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You don’t have to be in Lychen form to be a bitch. But I can see beneath the hard-ass shell you wear. You act like you don’t give a damn, that all you’re after is what you can gain, but I’ve never believed it.”
Kyana pulled out of his grasp, but didn’t move away. She studied him intently. “Then you’re a fool.”
“I saw you tend that dying tracer ten years ago, watched you mother him as he died, watched you mourn him. I see the way you protect your friends, feel how the mere mention of a past you won’t talk about hurts you now. You’re not as heartless as you’d like everyone to believe.”
Kyana looked away.
He brushed his mouth lightly across hers. “You have a right to feel. Not just for Haven but for whoever you decide is worth letting in. Until you accept that, believe that, you’re going to be alone.”
“I am alone. Pity from you won’t change that.”
Ryker raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. What was it going to take to make her stubborn ass hear him? “Even facing what might be handed to you tonight, you can’t let someone care about you.”
Dawning swept over Kyana, forcing her to push away from him completely. This wasn’t about her and him. This was about Ryker wanting to make her last night memorable. Hell, if she asked for it, he’d probably screw her brains out just to offer her a way to stop worrying for a while.
“I don’t need you,” she whispered. “You’re right about me. I’m only interested in an orgasm. Go away, Ryker. Stop making me feel like a victim.”
He winced, and momentary grief struck Kyana in the chest. She shoved it aside. Better to die never knowing what could have been than leave him living with the regret of what shouldn’t have been.
It was her turn to take care of him for a change.
Chapter Thirty
The coquina walls of Kyana’s cell were closing in on her. She felt much like the lions she’d once seen in the Jacksonville zoo. Caged. Trapped. On display. Ryker had stopped glaring at her, but his anger was choking all the life out of the room. Yet he’d refused to leave.
Geoff strolled into view behind the electrified archway, breaking the glare-down between her and Ryker. Kyana anxiously greeted him from her side of the cell, desperately searching his face for some sign that he’d found Haven. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. Dread seized her chest.
“You didn’t find her,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “I haven’t given up, lass. Just wanted to see you. To say . . . to just make sure you were all right.”
To say good-bye. He’d come in case Kyana’s sentencing ended badly. Kyana swallowed. “I’m fine. Go to Haven. Find her, please. I have to know she’s okay before they come for me.”
“I’ve still got tracers searching but it’s difficult without Marcus’s scent. We gave up trying to trail Haven’s. Whatever she’s becoming, the change in her essence would throw us off anyway.”
Kyana stilled. Whatever she’s becoming. Because of Kyana’s mixed heritage, there was no way to know . . .
She hated the pitying gaze Geoffrey was giving her now.
Ryker rubbed his nape and sighed. Whatever anger and animosity had lain between them was unimportant now.
“I’m not sure what good it will do, but I’ll help. But Kyana, don’t forget. There’s also the possibility that she finished turning before he could get her to wherever he was taking her. She could have killed—”
Kyana held up her hand, stopping him from offering more false hope. What just happened between them no longer mattered. The anger had left his eyes, and compassion and understanding now filled them. She rested her hand on his chest.
“Just go. She needs you both more than I do.”
“We’ll find her,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Kyana’s forehead. He stepped to the barrier. The shimmery buzz of magical energy flashed as he stepped through the invisible bars holding her captive.
When they reached the arched exit, both men looked back. Unspoken good-byes etched lines into their beautiful faces, and Kyana bit back tears, terrified that this image of them was the one she’d take to her final grave.
“Go,” she said, shooing him away. “I’ll be fine.”
And just like that, they were gone.
How long had it been since Geoff and Ryker had left in search of Haven? Thirty minutes? An hour? Eternity? Kyana couldn’t tell. The tiny window in her cell gave no hint of time’s passing. There was only the sound of her breath to fill the never-ending panic tightening her chest more with each fraction of a second that passed.
It was hard to trust others to fix what she’d broken. She trusted Geoffrey and was learning to trust Ryker, but it came with great difficulty. Being trapped like a bloody animal made her feel helpless and out of control.
“Damn it!” She was going to have to beg for freedom long enough to look for Haven. Then the gods could deal out whatever punishment Kyana had coming. But she couldn’t die not knowing.
Kyana buried her face in her hands and let out a half laugh, half scream. Whom could she beg? There was no member of the Ancients left that she hadn’t thoroughly pissed off. She sat on the cold, dirt-covered floor. Something dug into her hip. Shifting, she reached into her pocket and felt Haven’s beacon. It was tangled and wouldn’t come loose. Straightening her legs, she rolled onto her back and dug deeper, feeling another small sphere brush her fingertips.
Haven’s beacon fell from her fingers and rolled toward her boots, and the other object tumbled after it.
Kyana picked up the necklace and let the tea ball–like charm spin slowly. The Charm of Nine Gods. She’d forgotten about it. Haven had spent a small fortune on the charm, and as excitement pounded in Kyana’s veins, she knew the money was going to be well spent.
Her enthusiasm over her find gave way to sinking fear. She didn’t know anything about the charm or how it worked. Haven said it would do the casting, allowing her to astral project, but Kyana still remembered the last time Haven had tried such a spell. Their friend Silas had warned that such attempts were extremely dangerous. Leaving her body, going on a blind search for Haven, could force her to spend eternity wandering the shores of the River Styx hunting for a body forever lost to her.
She wanted to do something productive, but could she really help anyone if she used the charm?
Kyana sighed and studied both necklaces. There had to be a way to use them to locate Haven. If she could get the beacon to Ryker or Geoff, they could use it. When she rushed to the opening, energy passed
through her body and she jerked, unable to control the spasms racking her body. Blessedly, the spasms forced her back. She collapsed to the floor, curled into a ball, and prayed to every god she could think of that the pain wouldn’t kill her before she had the chance to give the beacon to someone who could use it.
After several minutes, the burning pain eased. She crawled to the opening, careful to keep her body from the invisible barrier still pulsing with magic energy. Her first three attempts to call out to her guards were nothing more than garbled grunts. The fourth produced a whisper. Kyana forced air into her lungs, hoping the needless oxygen would give her the strength she needed.
“Guards!”
One of the sentinels marched into the hall, his massive hand on his sword.
Kyana rose to her knees. “I need to talk to the tracer Geoffrey.”
The guard shook his head. Kyana hated the blank stare that confessed he didn’t know who she was asking for. “Ryker. Can you find Ryker?”
Again, the guard simply shook his head.
“You have to know Ryker. Everyone knows Ryker.” She stood. “Just give him a message. Tell him I know how to find Haven.”
Seeming to take pity on her, the guard took a step closer. Not questioning her good fortune, she asked again, “Just get a message to him.”
“Those you seek are no longer here.”
Kyana gritted her teeth. “I know they’re not here, but they’re Below. Someone has to know where they are.”
“I cannot leave my post, Dark Breed. Especially not on the request of a prisoner.”
Kyana attempted a hiss that came out sounding more like a deflating balloon. Damn, why couldn’t she use a cell phone? She fingered the Charm of Nine Gods, and unease settled in her gut as she realized what she was going to have to do.
The guard turned to leave. “Wait,” Kyana called out. “The Seer Nettles. Can you get her for me?”
His gaze traveled over her. “You’re in need of a Seer?”
“I want to see if she can tell me if my friend will be okay before I die. That’s all.”
He studied her in silence, and after a long moment, nodded, then left the room.
“I’m not helping you commit suicide.” Nettles watched Kyana from outside the cell, her brown gaze wide in disbelief. “I’m not going to invoke that charm for you. Astral projection is frowned upon by the Order because it’s dangerous. That charm you hold there is ten times more powerful and a hundred times more unstable than a simple casting. You’d have an hour at most, maybe less. That’s what makes it so dangerous.”
“Then teach me how to use it,” Kyana pleaded.
“That charm is meant for a Witch. I don’t know what it will do to you. It probably wouldn’t even work. Or it could send you into another realm where you’d spend eternity looking for a body forever lost to you.” Nettles’s little body shook with her adamant refusal.
Her tight face softened as her gaze swung to Kyana’s black and red hands. “I’ve asked the guards to obtain permission to let me in there to tend that, but then I’m leaving. I’m not helping you use that charm, do you hear me? Give me the beacon. If I can’t find Geoff or Ryker to give it to them, I’ll use it myself to find your friend.”
Right. That wasn’t happening. If Nettles didn’t find Geoff or Ryker, she’d go after Marcus herself? No way was Kyana putting another person in danger. Enough of that was going around already. And if she gave Nettles the beacon and Haven wasn’t found, Kyana’s chance to use the Charm of Nine Gods and the beacon would be gone. No. There was only one shot here, and it was going to have to be Kyana who finished this mess.
“Nettles, you’re afraid it will go wrong and I won’t make it back. I get it.” Seeing the skepticism in the Seer’s face, Kyana forced all sincerity into her voice. “I’m going to die anyway. They’re not going to let me walk after what I’ve done. I have to be the one to do this. If something goes wrong, better it happen to someone whose fate is already sealed. Right?”
“It goes against my oaths to the Order to help you die.”
“I won’t die. Trust me. I’d rather get my ass back in time to face my execution so I don’t become one of those invisible creepy things along the River.”
Seeing the walls of Nettles’s resolve begin to crumble, Kyana pressed on. “I know you have no reason to help me, but you’re my only hope. Please.”
Nettles said nothing, her teeth worrying her bottom lip, her hands raking her short, spiky locks over and over as though she was having a furious, silent conversation with herself.
Kyana kept talking, afraid to give the Healer time to think it over. “What I did to Haven . . . she deserves a chance to live despite it. Worry about her, Nettles. Not me!”
What were normally kind, soft eyes now turned hard as Nettles ceased worrying and fidgeting. She glared at Kyana, her small hands falling to rest on her hips. “If you make me the cause of your restless eternity . . .”
Relief filled Kyana from toes to hairline. “I won’t.”
Nettles threw back her head and shouted in a voice unfitting her mousy stature, “Guards!”
In silence, they waited for the young sentinel to appear, then Nettles addressed him in a tone that let him know she wasn’t about to be refused. “Let me in there. I need to tend her wounds and give her something to help her sleep.”
The guard pulled a golden disk from beneath his tunic. The gold chain reached his belly, the disk a golden, sparkling replica of a Chinese Throwing Star. Its five spiky points looked deadly, but fit easily into a thin groove to the right of Kyana’s cell. Even as he slipped it into the lock, his free hand was unsheathing the sword at his hip.
The static sound that had become white noise to Kyana faded, and the sentinel nodded to Nettles, his wary gaze never leaving Kyana. “You may enter.”
“You’ll have to leave us,” Nettles said, stepping into the tiny cell.
“I’m not leaving.”
Nettles poked him in the chest, her easygoing manner forgotten. “You will. She is wounded beneath her clothes, and prisoner or not, she has the right to her privacy while I tend her.”
“Madam, I cannot—”
“Lock the cell and go! I’ll call for you when I’m done. She won’t be able to escape.”
The guard’s eyes narrowed, his face paling. “You’d willingly put yourself behind the gods’ magic?”
“I would. Now go.”
Looking as though he was in awe of Nettles’s courage, the sentinel did as he was asked and sealed the small entrance once again with the invisible, static-laced barrier.
“Is that such a big deal? You letting yourself behind the gate?” Kyana asked, suddenly worried.
Nettles shrugged. “In order for the magic to be released and let me out again, the god who provided the spell, likely Ares, must still be strong and powerful. There’s a chance the god will fade before that key is used again to set me free, but I doubt that will happen in the next ten minutes.”
Kyana shuddered at the thought of being trapped in this tiny room for all eternity.
Nettles finished pulling items from her purse and motioned Kyana forward. Kyana held out her hands and allowed Nettles to apply a cool, pleasant-smelling balm. It wasn’t unusual for a nonhealing Witch to carry such things. Most liked to play with herbal remedies whether they specialized in them or not.
“That guard’s going to come back any minute. What do we need to do?”
Nettles mixed some dark powder into a bottle of water. “Drink this.”
It was a good thing Kyana didn’t need to breathe because the smell would have strangled her. She downed the foul liquid. Her stomach rebelled, nearly forcing the horrible brew back up and onto her boots. Her eyes watered. Her throat burned. “What was that for?”
“To help you relax and be more susceptible to the magic we’re about to perform. This charm is meant for Witches. I’m not sure I have everything we might need to make it work for one like you.”
“It’l
l work.” It had to. Kyana took a needless breath. “Will others be able to see me in my new state or will I be free to move around?”
“Some will see you and dismiss the event without thought. Others will feel you but not know what’s caused the hair on their arms to stand on end. Most will have no idea you’re there.” Nettles laced the charm and Haven’s beacon together, then placed them in Kyana’s hands. “By lacing the beacon, you should be able to take it with you in spirit form. Listen to your heart and follow its glow. It should lead you to Haven. The closer you get to her, the brighter the light should become.”
There were far too many shoulds muttered with Nettles’s instructions. All the moisture evaporated from Kyana’s mouth. “And what happens if it doesn’t?”
“No more peaceful nights of rest for you. Ever,” Nettles warned. “Now think of Haven.”
Kyana swallowed her nerves and closed her eyes. In her mind, she pulled up images of her best friend. Memories of happier times with herself, Geoff, and Haven before the world fell apart.
Nettles’s voice droned on. Kyana couldn’t make out the words as the world faded and the images in her mind took hold. She prayed that this would work, that she’d be able to save Haven, that Haven would still possess a piece of herself that wanted to be saved.
“Oh my gods, what have we done?”
The panic in Nettles’s voice caused Kyana’s eyes to snap open. “Is it done?”
She clutched her throat with one hand, her breast with the other. “May the gods forgive me, it is.”
Kyana followed Nettles’s gaze to the floor where her own body lay crumpled and lifeless. “Whoa.”
She reached out, attempted to touch her own fleshy cheek, but her hand disappeared like smoke against the pale skin on her sleeping self.
“Go, Kyana!”
Kyana jumped, snapping out of the near-trance state caused by seeing herself so vulnerable. Right. This wasn’t the time to ponder the incredible magic allowing her to do this. She had to get to Haven.