Knights of Obsidian

by Shannon Lynn Cook

  Contents

  Also by Shannon Lynn Cook

  Magical Factions

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Note from Shannon

  Also by Shannon Lynn Cook

  Newsletter

  About the Author

  Also by Shannon Lynn Cook

  Obsidian Queen

  Guild of Secrets

  Princess of Shadows

  Knights of Obsidian

  Writing as Shari L. Tapscott

  Silver & Orchids

  Moss Forest Orchid

  Greybrow Serpent

  Wildwood Larkwing

  Lily of the Desert

  Crest of the Thanes: A Silver & Orchids Companion Novel (Coming Soon)

  Fire & Feathers: Novelette Prequel to Moss Forest Orchid

  Eldentimber Series

  Pippa of Lauramore

  Anwen of Primewood

  Seirsha of Errinton

  Rosie of Triblue

  Audette of Brookraven

  Elodie of the Sea

  Grace of Vernow: An Eldentimber Novelette

  Fairy Tale Kingdoms

  The Marquise and Her Cat: A Puss in Boots Retelling

  The Queen of Gold and Straw: A Rumpelstiltskin Retelling

  The Sorceress in Training: A Retelling of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice

  Contemporary Fiction

  Glitter and Sparkle Series

  Glitter and Sparkle

  Shine and Shimmer

  Sugar and Spice

  27 Ways to Find a Boyfriend

  If the Summer Lasted Forever

  Just the Essentials

  Knights of Obsidian

  Obsidian Queen, Book Three

  Copyright © 2019 by Shannon Lynn Cook

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Editing by Z.A. Sunday

  Special Thanks to Christine Freeman and Leah Feltner

  Cover Design by Covers by Juan

  For all my readers. Love you guys!

  Magical Factions

  Urocyon

  The Foxes

  Masters of Stealth and Manipulation

  Lupus

  The Wolves

  Leaders

  Gryphus

  The Griffons

  Masters of Magical Intuition & Insight

  Lepus

  The Rabbits

  Animal Whisperers

  Draconem

  The Dragons

  Masters of the Elements

  Cervidae

  The Deer

  Healers

  Passeridae

  The Sparrows

  Jack of all Trades, Master of None

  Taurus

  The Bulls

  Gifted with Great Strength

  Canis

  The Hounds

  Trackers

  Cristatus

  The Peacocks

  Gifted with Beauty and Grace

  Sciuridae

  The Squirrels

  Tinkers and Craftsmen

  Rhopalocera

  The Butterflies

  Masters of Light and Illusion

  Chamaeleonidae

  The Chameleons

  Shifters

  Strigiformes

  The Owls

  Alchemists

  Struthio

  The Ostriches

  Ungifted

  Equus

  The War Horses

  Metalsmiths and Enchanters

  Cathartes

  The Vultures

  Thieves of Magic

  1

  It’s all fun and games until your evil minions burn down the forest.

  “We need to move!” Rafe drags me forward, away from the flame-engulfed mansion, his focus on Gray…or more specifically, on Gray’s drawn dagger.

  “Knowing what she is, how can you protect her?” Gray demands, his eyes flashing. As our team leader, it’s his job to get us out of here unscathed. Except right now, he wants me very scathed. And by scathed, I mean dead.

  As I glance between him and the fiery mansion behind us, I realize Gray is not just a man on a mission to destroy the Obsidian Queen—the fabled dark ruler who is expected to open the barred thresholds to our land of Aparia and take over the human world (AKA me)—he looks like a man betrayed. He stares at me like I’m the one holding the dagger—and the blade might as well be lodged firmly in his chest.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” Jonathan snarls at Gray. “The humans are going to be here any minute, and the last thing we need is to be caught in the middle of this. Come on.”

  Still, Gray doesn’t move. He just stands there, staring at me. The only thing keeping me alive is the fact that the point of Jonathan’s dagger is positioned at Gray’s back.

  “We don’t have time for this.” Eric cradles my oddly calm hairless cat in the crook of his arm. Most unexpectedly, he hands me the cat and then, without hesitation or second thought, cracks the back of his fisted hand against Gray’s head. And just like in the movies, Gray stumbles forward, falling to his knees before his eyes roll into the back of his head.

  “Eric!” I breathe, horrified.

  The usually docile, six-foot-four Viking lookalike takes my horror in stride. “He’s fine—ancient Knights’ Guild technique. Very technical.”

  He then crosses back to Gray and, with Jonathan’s help, hefts the Wolf off the ground.

  Jonathan swears when he turns toward the garages and sees the fire has not only jumped from the mansion to the nearby trees, but also to the building that’s holding what used to be an impressive variety of rich boy toys.

  “The Porsche,” Eric groans.

  Well, that does it. We’re all dead. We might as well walk right into those flames because Gray’s boss, the man who lent us the car for the long weekend, is going to kill us slowly when we return to Avon.

  “My car is this way,” Rafe says, not even bothering to take a moment of silence to observe the loss of the hundred-thousand-dollar crossover. “Hurry up.”

  I follow, half in a daze, the tattered hem of my black satin ballgown brushing the ground with each hasty step I take. I keep my eyes off the carnage—the carnage my shadow creatures created. This is all my fault.

  Mine.

  Granted, I never asked for this. I didn’t even realize I had Obsidian magic until a few months ago—and I certainly didn’t invite the beasts to join me here.

  But join me they did.

  My exhausted, heartsick brain tries to put the pieces together. Not even an hour ago, I was dancing with Jonathan. We were keeping an eye out for a wily Heron that we believed was seducing human men here in this luxurious mansion, killing them
after, and then hiding their bodies somewhere in the woods.

  But instead, we ended up finding a deranged pixie who, earlier this summer, decided it would be fun to play an elaborate game of cat and mouse with me. Not only did Trent orchestrate the entire charade to coax our team here, but he also posed as an undercover cop and aided my uninvited guests in wreaking death and destruction.

  And that reminds me.

  “Did you see Jenna?” I stop, yanking out of Rafe’s grasp as I look back toward the mansion. Charles shifts, testing my hold on him, not as content with me as he was with Eric. There’s no sign of the Heron, of course. What did I expect? It’s not like the nefarious weather-wielder is going to pop up and yell “present!” just because I called her name.

  I turn to Rafe. “Is she…” My eyes flutter to the numerous bodies littering the ground, and my stomach churns.

  Rafe takes my arm again, tugging me forward. “No, I haven’t seen her.”

  I crane my head back to look at Jonathan and Eric as Rafe pulls me forward. “Did either of you see Jenna?”

  Not looking where I’m going, I trip over a rock. Before I can fall on my nose, taking my cat down with me, Rafe scoops me into his arms. My heart freezes as I remember the last time I was in this position—but it wasn’t with Rafe. It was Jonathan.

  No.

  Don’t think about it, not yet. Not until we’re away.

  Rafe moves forward, a panther in the night, heading toward the staff parking, which is farther from the mansion than the fiery garage. Unable to help myself, I glance over my knight’s shoulder.

  Jonathan stares at the ground, grunting as he and Eric pull Gray’s two hundred pounds of dead weight.

  I whip my head forward, focusing on the sharp bite of my heels. They weren’t designed for nights like tonight. They were meant for slow dancing in the dark, for leisurely moonlit strolls after dinner, for kissing in the shadows.

  My eyes begin to sting, but I blink several times and take a deep breath. I’ll cry later—tonight when I close my eyes and too many of the recently deceased humans stare back at me.

  We make it to Rafe’s car, and he unceremoniously drops me to my feet and yanks the back door open. I slide in, tugging at my skirt and the fifty billion layers of stiff tulle netting, trying to compress the fabric enough to get the door closed. Irritated, Charles leaps to the front passenger seat.

  Rafe is just shutting me in when I begin to tremble. I’m still high on adrenaline and fear, but the night’s horrific events are starting to sink in.

  The other back door opens, and Eric says to Jonathan, “Get in. You pull while I shove.”

  The Griffon slides into the middle, pressing next to me as he turns and guides Gray into the vehicle. Gray’s head lolls to the side, but no one seems to care about the crick he’s going to have when he wakes.

  My eyes move from Gray to Jonathan. His collar is ripped. So is his jacket. Thankfully, he appears to be nothing more than a little worse for wear.

  Rafe’s already pulling the car into drive when Eric launches into the front passenger seat and slams his door. And just like that, we’re on the road, heading down the streetlight-lit lane, dust flying behind us in the taillights as we scream for the main road.

  Please hurry, I think to myself. The last thing we need is to meet a police car before we’re clear. I begin to panic, wondering what the authorities will do when they find the dead shadow creatures. True, the human count is far higher, but my team is covered in slick, black blood for a reason—we weren’t the only ones with casualties this evening.

  Jonathan shifts next to me, trying to give me room. “Sorry,” he murmurs, realizing his elbow is jabbed into my side.

  I hadn’t noticed, but I nod, unable to look at him.

  “You okay?” he asks softly, keeping his voice low, talking only to me.

  Am I okay?

  “I’m cold,” I mutter, unable to look at him.

  The knight leans forward and tugs off his jacket, nearly smacking me in the shoulder with his elbow in the process.

  “Lean forward,” he commands once it’s free.

  Wordlessly, I do as he says. He drapes the material over my bare shoulders, wrapping me in the subtle scent of his cologne. Just the smell ties my stomach in knots. Then, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, he wraps an arm around my back and rubs his hand over my arm, trying to warm me.

  Up and down it goes…up and down.

  “Stop,” Rafe says through clenched teeth, taking us all by surprise.

  Jonathan freezes, his hand still on my arm.

  “I’m trying to get us out of here, and I need you to keep your hands to yourself.” Rafe sounds irritated, frustrated, and confused all at once, and that terrifies me. My knight doesn’t do rattled.

  Slowly, Jonathan removes his hand.

  Eric looks into the back, a questioning frown on his face. He doesn’t know that Rafe and I linked our magic, doesn’t understand exactly what happened back at the mansion. What will he say when he finds out?

  I can’t meet either of the knights’ eyes, so I don’t. I stare at the seat in front of me while slowly clenching and unclenching my hands on the skirt of my dress. From the corner of my eye, I see Eric rubbing his face, his eyes narrowed in thought, but I pretend I don’t notice.

  Finally, we pull onto the main road, and the mad dash is over.

  “Speed up a bit,” Eric says to Rafe.

  “I’m going the speed limit.”

  “You’re going exactly the speed limit—who does that?”

  Rafe flashes him a look, basically asking the Bunny if he wants to drive, but bumps the accelerator anyway.

  We’re a good thirty seconds past the turnoff for the mansion’s drive when I hear the high wail of a siren. I lean toward Jonathan, looking out the front window. Sure enough, blue and red lights illuminate the road ahead, barely visible through the trees. It’s a lone police car, racing through the night.

  I grit my teeth, waiting for it to pass, irrationally worrying that we’re going to be arrested right here, right now. But the officer flies past us, not even slowing when he goes by. I slowly turn to look out the rear window, mentally preparing myself, but I still gasp when I see the high flames dancing above the forest.

  There are more sirens now—an ambulance followed by a fire truck followed by another ambulance. I watch the second ambulance pass, and an invisible hand squeezes my chest. The paramedics won’t be rushing anyone to the hospital tonight.

  “Do you have your phone?” Rafe asks Eric quietly, his tone as somber as I feel.

  “Yeah.”

  “See if you can book us a room in Glenwood.”

  Eric pulls up the internet, and the bright screen illuminates his face. “Why not drive home? It’s only a few more hours.”

  Rafe glances at the still-unconscious Wolf next to Jonathan. “We can’t take Gray back, not yet. He’s dangerous.”

  Eric frowns as he thinks it over but continues his search without question.

  “Wait.” I rub my face, trying to think straight even though my brain is beyond foggy. “So what are you going to do? Lock Gray in a hotel room with us until we can convince him not to kill me?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “So we’re going to hold him hostage?”

  Rafe meets my eyes in the rearview mirror. He waits for a beat before he repeats, “Pretty much.”

  2

  Apparently, there’s a marathon tomorrow, so most of the hotels are booked up. That leaves us with the option of choosing an expensive suite in a historic hotel in the middle of downtown or a postage-stamp-sized room in a cheap motel on the outskirts of town.

  Which one do you think my team chose?

  I sit inside the car, peering through the windows of the motel lobby, watching Rafe and Eric request our room. Glenwood Springs is a tourist town, so it’s not like the area is terrible, but we’re surrounded by minivans and sport utility wagons. Half of them boast stickers that proclaim t
hings like: “My child is an honor student at…” Insert whatever school you like.

  A hippie bus, also covered in stickers (but a different variety than the honor student type), pulls in next to us. When the dreadlocked man emerges, a cloud of smoke billows out with him. I’ve never been so grateful for a closed window in my life.

  I watch him amble after his buddy to the lobby entrance, yanking up his fair trade, organic hemp-spun pants and tossing back a scarf that was likely beaded by impoverished women in Indonesia. When he reaches the door, he tosses an aluminum tea can in a wastebasket, forgoing the recycling bin sitting next to it, and pockets his thousand-dollar phone.

  There was a time I would point out the irony to Jonathan, and we’d laugh. Oddly enough, that time was this morning. Oh, how quickly things change.

  Jonathan shifts next to me. I watch him, but I try to be discrete about it. Gray sits on the Griffon’s right side, slouched down in his seat, eyes closed, with his head back against the headrest.

  He woke not long after we got onto the road, and let’s just say he wasn’t pleased with Eric’s method of getting him into Rafe’s car. The only thing keeping him in here now is my Foxy ability to control locks. He attempted to manually unlock his door five times before he finally gave up—because the instant he’d pull the lever, I’d flip it back into place. I’ve never attempted car locks before, and a detached part of me feels he should be proud. After all, he’s the one who wanted me to work on mastering my abilities in the first place.