The Mortal Falls

by Anna Durand

  Nevan fell to his knees beside me, laying a palm on my forehead. He eyed Calder sideways. "She needs healing."

  "Uh-uh." Calder flicked one claw at Brennus, who conjured Skeiron's endued sword and wedged the tip at the base of Nevan's skull. Calder wagged a finger, tsking. "She has to die, you know that. I'm getting my mate back and this is the only way. She's gotta be forged and become like me — like us."

  Nevan's lip curled. "You and I are nothing alike. I'm a sylph. You are one of the kerkopes, a filthy shapeshifter, a monkey in a man's body. I can see why you chose the species, they are as vile as your soul."

  Calder slammed his fist onto the rock floor. "Shut up! Lindsey was mine way before she ever met you. She wore my ring."

  Nevan arched one eyebrow. "And yet she remained a virgin while with you. She gave herself to me after four days." His hand still on my forehead, he bent his fingers to caress me in a soothing gesture. "We both know which of us she chooses."

  Calder leaped up, his bare feet lifting off the floor and smacking down again. His feet bracketed my thighs, inches from Nevan. Calder bent, then flexed, his fingers. "Lindsey, tell him. You choose the forging. You choose me."

  My voice thin and reedy, I said, "Brennus said you wanted me dead."

  Throwing his head back, Calder groaned. "The bird's being too literal. You have to die to be forged."

  Nevan winced as Brennus prodded his neck with the sword. "She does not want — "

  "Shut up!" Calder screeched, clutching his head in both hands, eyes wild. "You don't get to choose for her."

  "And you believe you do?" The cold hatred in Nevan's voice made me look at him, but his face gave away nothing.

  "I love her," Calder growled. "It's my right."

  "Nobody decides for me," I said, lifting my head to meet Calder's gaze. "You tormented me for days, framing me for murder and sending Brennus to stalk me. You must've known Skeiron was after me, but you didn't do a damn thing about it. Guess who did." I smiled weakly at Nevan, then turned back to Calder. "Why on earth would I ever choose you? I'm sure as hell not dying to be with you, turning myself into a giant monkey-thing so I can be your mate."

  Calder backed away from me, past my feet, hiding near the wall. "Then you die. For good, for real, no take-backs."

  Nevan squinted at Calder. "I will never allow it."

  "That's why you die first, lover boy."

  Calder nodded to Brennus.

  The assassin sliced Skeiron's sword down at Nevan's neck.

  Nevan rolled out of the blade's trajectory, kicking at the sword with such strength it popped out of Brennus's grasp. Nevan snatched it up, bounded to his feet, and slashed the blade toward Brennus.

  "Stop!" I said.

  Nevan hesitated, the blade nicking Brennus's skin. A droplet of crimson blood trickled down the iridescent blue-black flesh of his throat. Nevan looked to me, a question in his eyes.

  He'd stopped because he had to, thanks to the life debt.

  "Don't kill him," I said. "You of all people should understand it's not his fault."

  "But he'll kill us both. His debt to this one — " Nevan pointed the sword's tip at Calder. " — coerces him to do so."

  I summoned the last ounce of my life energy, though it drained away on every drop of blood, to push up onto my elbows and address Calder. Pain coruscated through my nerves, my bones. "You signed up for the forging because you wanted power, didn't you? Not for me. Not out of love or a desire to stay with me. Anyone who loved me could never ask me to give up my humanity. And you're not even asking, you demand it."

  Calder inched toward me. "If you love me, you'll do it."

  A great sadness filled me, part grief over what had become of Calder, part regret for what I needed to say. "I never loved you, Calder. I wanted to, tried to, thought I should and even convinced myself I must have. It wasn't real. I'm sorry, but it's true."

  He leaped forward in a crouch to squat on my midsection.

  Nevan rushed toward me, but Brennus punched him in the chest, hurling him backward into the cave wall.

  Calder scraped a sharp claw lightly down my throat. "You're dying, baby. Let me help you be reborn."

  "I'm the Janusite. How do you know I can be forged?"

  "Worth a shot." He leaned down to press his rough, cold lips to mine. "The sylph must've put a spell on you, to make you forget how much you love me. It's why you ran away to this nowhere place. But you can't escape destiny. The forging will free you."

  The man I'd known — the sweet, charming man who swept me off my feet — had died three years ago, before I shot him. He chose eternal life and immense power over the peace of natural death. If I died here in this cave, my soul would move on and I would leave this world certain I'd achieve immortality through the memories of my family, my friends, and Nevan.

  He'd shown me real love, forged from trust and respect — not a need to control and possess.

  "Kill me," I said, "but I will never submit to the forging."

  Chin quivering, Calder shook his head. "You'll change your mind when the time comes."

  "I won't."

  "You will." He raised his hand and his claw elongated, the tip sharpening into a thin, double-edged blade. "You will."

  He lanced the claw across my throat. My arms gave out. I collapsed onto the floor, my head thudding on the stone floor. Lights flashed in my vision, then fizzled out.

  Nevan roared. He tackled Calder, the two wrestling and grunting and thrashing their limbs.

  My body had gone numb, the only sensation that of hot blood streaming down my throat. As my eyesight waned into a deepening darkness, the shapes of the battling elementals faded from view. The noise of their scuffling seemed far away.

  Crunch.

  Silence.

  A final thought flitted through my mind. One of the men had snapped the other's neck, and somehow, I knew Nevan had emerged victorious.

  The living world spun away from me as my consciousness receded toward a blessed emptiness and the void claimed me.

  29

  Sensory details pierced the numb haze enveloping me, one at a time. Pins and needles prickling my flesh from head to toe. Cool air on my skin. Soft, damp grass under my body. Voices, their words indistinguishable.

  A singular voice broke through, low and fierce. "Come back to me, love. Please. I need you."

  Nothingness overwhelmed me.

  Time passed — minutes, hours, days, who knew. My consciousness seemed to float back down into my body, and my mind roused from the deepest slumber. My eyes stayed closed, my lids too heavy to move.

  Soft fabric slid across my bare arms as I shifted position, and a puffy pillow cradled my head. Warm light glowed beyond my eyelids and warmed my face. Traffic rumbled nearby, muffled and intermittent. I pulled in a long breath and exhaled bit by bit, cleansing some of the grogginess. A tentative stretch of my entire body brought no pain.

  The scent of thunderstorms wafted over me.

  A smile parted my lips as I cracked my lids open. Nevan reclined in the padded wooden chair in the corner of my bedroom in the motor home. His eyes were shut, his head leaning against the wall, both arms slack with one hand on each thigh. He wore his khaki pants and polo shirt. I lay on the bed, beneath the blue-and-green quilt.

  I tossed the covers off me.

  Nevan's head sprang up, his eyes flew open. His lips trembled with a smile struggling to form, hindered by the concern evident in his gaze as he surveyed my body.

  Sitting forward, he asked in a tentative voice, "How do you feel?"

  I stretched again, with more vigor, swiveling my hips and thrusting up my breasts. "Mmm. I feel wonderful."

  And I did. How odd.

  The image of Brennus shredding my shirt and ripping into my chest exploded in my mind, followed close behind by the memory of Calder slashing m
y throat. My ex had turned into a shapeshifting monkey-man. I rubbed my chest, uneasy at the memory, then noticed a sky-blue cotton shirt and gray sweatpants covered me — and my wounds had healed completely.

  "How long — " Realization struck me, ushering in a relief that slackened my tight muscles. "The vortex. You got Tris to heal me."

  "Yes. Repairing the damage required a great deal of energy. Tris will be resting for days to regain his strength, but he was more than willing to help." Nevan watched me as if I might disintegrate, as if he'd imagined me. "Are you certain you feel no pain? No remnants of your injuries?"

  "Positive." I spread my arms wide, luxuriating in the softness of the satiny sheets. I felt alive, awake, vital. "Never felt better."

  "Glad to hear it."

  "Um… " I recoiled from the need to ask, but I had to know. "Is Calder dead? I mean, really dead?"

  Nevan nodded, eyes downcast. "I snapped his neck, then Brennus handed me Skeiron's endued sword and I drove it through Calder's heart. He will never haunt you again."

  "I hope he's at peace." I rolled onto my back, picking at the hem of my shirt. "Christ, I can't fathom why he volunteered to become a monkey-thing."

  "Doubt he knew precisely what he'd become."

  "What are kerkopes, anyway?"

  Nevan braced his elbows on his knees. "The first kerkopes were a pair of mortals who angered Zeus and were cursed to become shapeshifting monkeys. Over thousands of years, they've recruited more humans through the forging process."

  I considered his words for a moment. "Brennus is a shapeshifter, but he looks essentially human — except for his shimmery skin. Why did Calder seem so different?"

  "Kerkopes inherit their physical traits from the original curse. They are unable to completely shift back into humanoid form."

  "Creepy." I stretched my whole body, arms above my heads. "Let's talk about something more fun."

  In the literal blink of an eye, he lay on top of me, kissing me, running his hands up and down my sides. "No talking."

  His left hand grasped my hip, his right kneaded my breast. His mouth devoured me with a hunger borne of fear and desperation but fueled by joy, his tongue sweeping over mine, coiling around it, firing up my libido with record speed. I wrapped my arms around him and gave in to the passion, our bodies molded together, limbs entwined. My fingers wended through his hair. I inhaled his scent, savored his taste, thrusting my tongue into his mouth as he delved deep into mine.

  The door latch clicked. "Oops!"

  At the sound of my mother's voice, Nevan rolled off me onto his side, head bowed. I flailed for the covers — to hide myself, because in his fondling he'd shoved my shirt up and tugged one breast out of my bra.

  I aimed a sheepish look at my mom, but I couldn't meet her gaze. Sheesh, I was like a teenager caught making out with her boyfriend. My lips still burned from the intensity of Nevan's kiss.

  "I came to see if you're awake and I see you are," Mom said. Her gaze switched to Nevan and back to me. "I take it you're feeling better."

  "One hundred percent."

  "You must be starving." Her tone conveyed motherly concern, but her faint smirk suggested she knew exactly what would've happened if she hadn't interrupted us. "It's blueberry pancakes this morning."

  She shut the door.

  "Morning?" I pushed up onto my elbows. "How long was I asleep?"

  "The remainder of yesterday and all night." Nevan traced a fingertip over my collarbone. "I feared you might never wake, in spite of Tris's valiant efforts."

  I opened my mouth in a mock gape. "Did you just call Tris, the vile leprechaun, valiant?"

  Nevan rolled his eyes. "You will not hear me speak the words again."

  "Do you like blueberry pancakes?"

  He stared at me for moment, as if I'd spoken a foreign language. Leaning down, he teased my mouth with swift brushes of his lips and quick laps of his tongue. "I will eat whatever your family offers me, because pleasing them pleases you." He nipped my lower lip. "And pleasing you is my prime objective."

  I didn't know what to say to that, so I straightened my clothes and led him out into living room. We ate pancakes while my brother peppered us with questions about the Unseen realm, my status as Janusite, and the details of Skeiron's death. Nevan wolfed down the pancakes with obvious relish, even groaning his approval, and downed what must've amounted to a half gallon of milk. My mother kept offering him more of everything and smiled every time he complimented her cooking, her housekeeping, and especially her marksmanship and courage during the sylph battle.

  When my dad started his interrogation, Nevan didn't even seem irritated at the questions. Dad asked if Nevan had used his "voodoo spells" to control me and even that question didn't faze my sylph. He simply stated, "I would never betray your daughter in such a way. If I can't win her without magic, I do not deserve her."

  I couldn't stop watching him. His easy smiles, his honest answers, his charming quips and his obvious affection for my family. He handled my brother expertly, in spite of his incessant quizzing about the other world.

  Nevan cared for my family. There was nothing sexier in the universe.

  Mom noticed my infatuated stare and gave me one of those smiles only mothers could pull off, the kind that said she recognized the depth of my attachment to him and she approved.

  After breakfast, Nevan and I wandered outside. The shop building had suffered worse than any of us. The roof had caved in and a big hole gaped in the wall facing the parking lot. Through the gap, I spied overturned tables, the contents of their bins scattered over the floor.

  Things could be replaced. Saving lives, saving the ones I loved, that mattered more than property damage.

  We met Stan and Travis on the path to the shop door, where the two men were talking and gesturing at various wounds on the building. Instead of his sheriff's uniform, Travis wore jeans and an Aerosmith T-shirt. He looked different in civilian clothes, younger somehow, and more like the man I'd been friends with for years, back before Calder wrecked us both.

  I'd found my redemption. Maybe Travis would find his one day.

  Nevan slipped an arm around my shoulders. "Are you disturbed?"

  "Bad memories, that's all."

  As if he sensed my attention on his back, Travis turned toward us. He looked frightened for a moment, but regained his composure and traipsed over to us. He flashed me a tight smile. "Lindsey."

  One word conveyed more than I could interpret. Regret. Sorrow. Guilt. Maybe a tinge of hope.

  He offered his hand to Nevan. After a quick shake, both men jerked their hands away. Not exactly friends, but no longer enemies.

  Travis shifted his weight to one foot, then the other. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans, hunching his shoulders. His gaze flitted from the ground to me, back and forth several times, before settling on my face. "Lindsey, I need to apologize, again. I got no excuse and you know I ain't a drinker under normal circumstances. I don't expect us to be friends, won't ask for it but — "

  "Stop." I couldn't take his rambling. It made my skin itch. I realized what he wanted and I realized I needed to give it, for both our sakes. "I forgive you. Let's move on, okay?"

  His shoulders relaxed. "Okay. Thanks."

  I let Nevan shepherd me away. Stan smiled and waved, and I reciprocated. This whole craziness had brought positive changes to my life, like the way my relationship with my boss had improved.

  Nevan and I moseyed down the trail to the falls, his arm around my shoulders, mine draped around his waist, my head on his shoulder. The normalcy of our stroll, of our comfortable intimacy, made warmth swell in my heart. I'd thought I would never find this, but it found me. And at last, I understood what it was.

  We halted at the wooden railing that hemmed in the pool and the falls. The spray misted over us, dampening our skin and hair. Nevan p
ulled away to move in front of me, face to face. His expression was serious, almost wary, as he stroked his palms up and down my arms, the droplets from the falls lubricating the motion.

  Nevan dragged me into his arms, but rather than kissing me, he zipped us to the ledge beside the waterfall and jumped through the water with me snug against him. We lighted on the rock floor, dripping, my short breaths heaving my bosom into his chest. He ravished my mouth with passion and hunger, our kiss a mutual declaration of everything we couldn't express in words. The kiss heated swiftly, our hands groping, our bodies melting into each other, desire bursting inside me in tiny explosions of pure pleasure.

  Our lips still molded together, we dived through the portal and he whisked us to the clearing outside Nevan's home. He broke away, backing up several feet.

  I waved toward the slope that concealed his lair. "Why didn't you blip us inside?"

  "Blip?" His mouth quirked. "You do come up with the most interesting descriptions."

  "It's a gift."

  He ducked his head, scrubbing both hands in his hair. When he raised his head again, his face had gone impassive. "Stay with me."

  "Are you asking me to move in with you?"

  "Yes."

  I was mute for several seconds, my thoughts adrift. "I can't live with you."

  "Why not?"

  "I've never lived with anyone other than my family. And besides, we hardly know each other."

  His mouth tightened, his hands fisted. "But you love me."

  "That doesn't mean I'm ready to move to the Unseen realm and shack up with you."

  Nevan threw his head back and let out an exasperated growl.

  "Ugh," I said. "You are so melodramatic when you don't get your way."

  His gaze homed in on mine and his flaming eyes sent a erotic shiver through me. "I want you with me always, love. You feel the same, you told me so. Stay with me."

  The intensity he imbued into the last sentence shot heat through me, a lightning bolt of desire that throbbed in my sex. I longed to say yes. The word lodged in my throat and I swallowed. "This is a big decision, Nevan. We've known each for what, a week? I need time."