Nothing. There’s nothing!
Suddenly, Thomas lets out a gurgled yell, and I swing around to find him and my knight fighting for the gun. Rafe’s free—somehow, he was able to break out of his charmed cuffs. But how?
Brett runs forward into the fray, hoping to help his friend, but I freeze.
Slowly, I turn, searching for the pixie.
“Looking for someone?” he says from behind me, inside the arch.
I yelp and stumble back. He stalks forward, a dark figure in the night, looking more animal than human. His eyes glow, and his lips curl back, revealing a sickening grin.
This is it; I can feel it. One of us dies tonight.
And it won’t be me.
I feel for my Obsidian magic, let it swirl around me—coaxing it, begging it to rise to the surface. My hair moves in a nonexistent breeze, and the air around me begins to glow.
Trent freezes, his eyes wide with sick pleasure as he watches. “Yes. Call them,” he whispers, stalking forward, half-crouched, moving like a goblin. “CALL THEM!”
I focus the magic, give it my command, and scream into the night.
And easy as that, the charmed handcuffs fall from my wrists at the exact moment Trent lunges. Just before he tackles me, I yank off my shoes, preparing to finish this for good.
The pixie smashes into me like a linebacker. We fall, tumbling down the sandstone hill, crashing into the unforgiving ground. Something snaps, and my head cracks against a rock.
Around me, the dust settles, and I gasp for breath. Slowly, I take stock of my bones. I’m pretty sure several are broken. Agony wraps my middle, making it hard to breathe.
Trent lies face-down next to me, unmoving.
A gun fires, and I flinch, terrified that Rafe just received a fatal wound. The bang is immediately followed by raised voices—lots of them. Several yells are chased by two more gunshots, and then it goes completely silent.
“Madeline!” a male voice yells seconds later, sounding frantic. “Where is she?”
Jonathan.
It’s Jonathan.
“I’m here,” I call out, but my voice is tiny and pathetic. I wheeze and clutch my chest—pretty sure I busted a few ribs too.
Moments later, the Griffon is here, leaning over me. “Madeline,” he breathes, followed by lots of things I can’t focus on yet.
“Trent.” I roll my head toward the still pixie. “Check him.”
Jonathan jerks when he realizes Trent is so close. Immediately, he turns him and then barks out a curse.
“Is he dead?” I demand.
“He’s dead,” Jonathan confirms, probably shocked by my choice of weapon.
I don’t have the stomach to look, but I know there’s a heel lodged into the side of the pixie’s neck. Death by stiletto.
“Self-defense,” I mutter, needing him to know. “I didn’t murder him. I didn’t call my monsters either.”
Jonathan cradles me after checking me over, pulling me onto his lap. “I know.”
“I almost did.” I blink up at him, feeling my emotions threatening to spill over. It’s going to be messy. I mean, I just killed a man. “I almost called them.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I didn’t,” I breathe. I didn’t give in. I try to sit up and then cry out in pain.
“Stay still,” Jonathan says. “We’ll have you out of here shortly.”
“Rafe?” I ask suddenly, realizing I can’t feel him past my own pain. “How is he?”
“Shot three times, and he’s still kicking.”
That’s all I need to know.
“Stay with me,” I beg.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I close my eyes and let myself drift in and out of blissful unconsciousness.
26
There is something genuinely disorienting about waking in a hospital bed. I blink several times, feeling groggy. The room is bright and cheerful, done up with comfortable farmhouse décor—soft whites with warm wood accents. It’s nothing like a cold, human hospital room.
“Oh, thank goodness. You’re awake,” my mother says from near my head. “How do you feel?”
“Fuzzy.” Slowly, I try to sit. Everything is sore, but nothing screams.
“I had to put you out for several days.” Mom sits next to me, grasping my hand. Tears shine in her eyes, and she chokes up, looking away. “It took forever to knit your bones.”
There are some serious perks to having a Deer for a mother. Everyone should have a healer in the family if you ask me.
“How many were broken?” I ask, accepting a glass of water she hands me. To be honest, part of me doesn’t want to know.
“Several ribs, three carpal bones, and your left fibula. You also had internal bleeding, a concussion, and third-degree abrasions.”
I stare at her, wondering if I heard all that right.
“It was awful, Madeline.” She clears her throat, choking back her emotions.
“And Rafe?” I ask.
“He’s fine—we had him fixed the day he came in. He only suffered from a few bullet wounds.”
Right. Only bullet wounds.
A light knock sounds at the door, and I look down to make sure I’m decent. The soft white blanket covers my lower half, and my T-shirt style nightgown conceals my top—Mom must have bought it so I wouldn’t have to wear one of those awful hospital gowns. (One thing Aparian medicine sadly has in common with human.)
Mom stands to answer the door, and then she glances back over her shoulder after she peeks into the hall. “Are you up for company?”
“The team?” I ask.
She nods, and I tell her it’s fine.
The four knights step in as she slips out. They look acutely uncomfortable, standing stiffly, holding a strange variety of hospital gifts—Gray with a teddy bear, Rafe with balloons, Jonathan with flowers, and Eric with a card.
You don’t have to be a mind-reading Griffon to know they’re hating themselves right now.
“I’m fine,” I assure them, pushing my hair behind my ear. I must look awful—almost dying has a way of doing that to you.
Jonathan watches me, his expression unreadable. I pull my eyes from him, not sure what to say.
Rafe is the first to come to the bed. He frowns at the bright balloons like they’re personally offending him and sets them on the nightstand. “There is no way to tell you how sorry I am.”
“Because you didn’t read the Squirrels’ minds? Yeah, I’m a bit disappointed about that too.” I nudge his arm. “I’m going to start interviewing for a new Obsidian Knight.”
He frowns, but his eyes are a little brighter. “You were brilliant, Lexie.”
“The guild’s record of the event officially has “stiletto heel” as the weapon used for self-defense in the file,” Gray adds. “That’s a first.”
“Record?” I ask, my heart leaping into my throat.
“Yes, it seems Lord Traverly has come to the accurate conclusion that Trent, Thomas, and Brett kidnapped you in hopes of collecting a ridiculously high ransom from your father. It seems a note was even found at your house.”
“It was?” I say, wondering which one of the guys planted it. “And…what do Thomas and Brett have to say?”
Rafe’s eyes harden. “Dead men aren’t generally questioned.”
I shiver, but I can’t say I’m going to mourn them for long.
“How did you find us?” I ask, turning my eyes to Gray. “How did you know we were even missing?”
A strange smile flits over Eric’s face. “I received an anonymous tip via text.”
“Anonymous?”
He nods.
Who else knew? Thomas didn’t mention anyone…wait. There was a Squirrel who failed to show up at the threshold—one who Jonathan swore liked Eric even though she’s avoided him like the plague.
Could it have been Chloe? I have no idea, but maybe. Just maybe.
“When we found out you were missing, Parker and Jonathan were half
way to you,” Gray says. “Parker was already tracking Trent, though we didn’t know it was him at the time.”
I can’t even say I care that it was Parker who found us before we bled to death—I kind of like being alive.
“Also,” Jonathan says, speaking for the first time. “We found a surveillance bug in our suite. We believe Thomas placed it when Gray had him check the room.”
“They were watching us?” I ask, aghast.
Jonathan nods, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. That at least explains how they knew the moment Jonathan left me alone.
It’s too much, and I’m suddenly too tired to talk. I slouch back as a wave of nausea washes over me. I’m all in one piece, but it will be a few more days before I’m healed.
“We should go,” Gray says, setting the stuffed bear on a corner table. “Feel better. If you need anything, let us know.”
Eric crosses the room, hesitating before he hands me the card. “I thought this might cheer you up.”
He then says his goodbye and steps into the hall. I open the envelope and bark out a laugh that makes my still-sore muscles ache. Eric must have had the card custom-printed because on the front, the knight himself is stretched out on a black velvet settee in his favorite floral robe. He wears a sexy, solemn, dare I even say pouty, expression. Charles, in all his hairless glory, sits on the back of the couch, staring at the camera like he owns it.
I smile, tucking the card back in its envelope, and turn to the remaining knights.
Jonathan and Rafe both hover as if waiting for the other to leave. Gray looks between them and then frowns before he follows Eric out the door.
Rafe eyes Jonathan and then nods to himself. He turns to me, meeting my eyes. “I’m going to grab some coffee. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
In other words, Jonathan had better make it quick.
“Okay,” I murmur.
The Fox shuts the door behind him, and Jonathan and I are alone.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey.” He crosses the room, looking unusually hesitant. So much has happened, but there’s still a barrier between us.
“Madeline…” Jonathan begins, and then he trails off as if unsure what to say. He stares at me for another few seconds before he shakes his head and takes the final two steps to the bed. He sits next to me, and I fall into his arms, letting him hold me.
“Never do that to me again,” he whispers, making me look at him. “Do you understand me? Not ever.”
“What part?”
“The disappearing part. The nearly dying part.”
“I’ll do my best,” I say, trying to laugh.
He sits back abruptly—as if it hurts to be this close. He runs a hand through his hair, looking like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how to start.
I wait, knowing he’ll get to it eventually.
“They wanted you to open a threshold,” he finally says.
After studying him for a moment, I nod. “But I think they were wrong about the location. I didn’t sense or see anything.”
He nods, half laughing, looking like he’s about to groan.
“What is it?” I ask, tired of waiting.
Again, he turns, meeting my eyes. “You couldn’t see the threshold?”
“If that was a threshold, then no, I suppose I couldn’t.”
“Madeline.” He presses his lips together and then lets out a slow breath. “I can.”
I freeze, wondering if I heard him right. “You can what?”
“See the thresholds.” His eyes meet mine. “And now that I know what their magic looks like, I can find them for you.”
“And help me open one?” I whisper.
He nods slowly. “And help you open one.”
To be continued…
Note from Shannon
Hello!
Thank you for all your support—thank you for reading! I’m so incredibly grateful to all of you who gave this new genre of mine a try. I love it, and I’ve been so encouraged by your response!
I have a couple of fun things to share before I let you go. First, I’ve been working on book soundtracks! (One per book, basically the song I imagine playing in the credits if the book were a movie.)
For this book, I chose Shawn Mendes’s “Like This.” Check it out on your favorite music service!
Obsidian Four will release sometime in August. If you’d like to be notified when the book is available for pre-order, join my newsletter.
Finally, this is the part where I ask for reviews. They make such a huge difference in the success of a series. It only takes a few minutes. To make it really easy for you, I’ve added the link to the book’s page on Amazon below.
See you in the next book!
Shannon
Click here to review this book on Amazon.
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Just the Essentials
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About the Author
Shannon Lynn Cook is a pen name for an Amazon bestselling author who woke up one day and decided life would be more interesting with magic and lots of love interests. (For her characters, not herself.)
She drinks too much sweet tea, prefers pie to cake, and hopes to someday own a hairless cat of her very own. Shannon lives in Colorado with her beloved (romance-hating) husband, two creative kids, and several extremely demanding fur babies.
Shannon also writes contemporary romance and fantasy fiction as Shari L. Tapscott.
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Knights of Obsidian Page 21