The Opal Blade (The Ashen Touch Trilogy Book 1)

by Kristy Nicolle

  He had loved Demi Sinclair, more than he’d ever thought possible, and her death had not come easy on him. Still he waits, asking me over and over to check the registers at Golgotha, but she never rises, and he never ceases in his self-destruction when she fails to appear.

  I think he’d be a good father, if he can let go of the fact that she’s not coming back. If he can learn to love again. But then, what do I know about being a good father? The only thing I know about them is how they can ruin your life without even being in it.

  “You’re quiet,” he breaks the silence between us finally, and I look up to him from my dessert which I’m still gratefully spooning into my mouth, savouring each bite.

  Mortal bodies experience food in such a different way than I have been used to growing up, and I love it.

  “You’re evasive, and stubborn. Kind of like an old woman actually.” I quip about his age again, knowing it bothers him and watch the corner of his sculpted mouth twitch as he cocks one eyebrow.

  “Care to dance with an old dear?” he asks me, as he waves a hand, executing one of the few exertions on his magic he makes these days, flawlessly. Borrowed voices begin to croon about careless whispers at his command, and the sound of a saxophone vibrates out from the swirling musical mist overhead. The eerie glow grows denser as more instruments and sounds join in the melody and I feel the beat, infectious, stir my soul.

  “Well, I can’t let you dance by yourself now, can I? You have absolutely no rhythm.”

  I’m teasing of course; Haedes has the best rhythm of anyone I’ve ever met. He’s a fantastic dancer, a sexual dynamite when it comes to rock, roll, rhythm and blues. The way that he sings as well as his ability to master any instrument by only picking it up, is attractive, to say the least, and never fails to ease his pain and suffering. He adores music, and I’m pretty sure if it wasn’t for that, he’d have gone utterly mad years ago. It’s not often I don’t wake up to the sound of him on the piano, or the saxophone, or the electric guitar… at all hours of the night.

  Still, better that than screams I suppose.

  Getting to his feet, his angular frame makes smooth work of the transition from sitting to upright. He’s not what you’d expect from a God, not when you look at his brothers. He’s not broad or muscular. He’s tall, slim and handsome with a dark, sunken ruggedness that’s bordering on androgyny, especially when you watch him move. He’s one of the most graceful entities I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something because I grew up among some of the most beautiful Goddesses you can imagine.

  “Shall we?” He offers a manicured hand as I get to my feet, red dress pinching at my waist as the amount of food I’ve consumed causes my curves to push against the silk. The dress is dark in hue, contrasting starkly with my white blonde hair and pallor bordering on translucency. The tulle of the skirt trails behind me, weightless like bloody smoke.

  We tread away from the table and out across the sweeping quartz floors, which sprawl in billowing and smoky greys, blacks and whites throughout the entire space. He wraps an arm around my waist, and I place a light hand on his shoulder before the other finds its usual spot just above his elbow. The love song about broken promises and secrets spilled continues to play, and we dance, covering distances weightlessly together as though we’re no more than spirits ourselves.

  “I love our Thursday nights,” Haedes admits, looking down into my eyes and making me blush. He’s charming, sweet and kind, with a wicked mean streak and temper that would make any sensible person run in the opposite direction. He is a juxtaposition of all things, making him utterly irresistible to all women… well, except me of course. I’ve got absolutely no interest in delving into the tangled web of pain spun thick within his chest. Not a single ounce.

  “Me too. I just wish…” I begin, whispering against him as we turn again and our feet move in synchronised time, as though we were crafted from two halves of the same whole.

  “You wish what? What could you possibly wish? You shall have it. You know… I love you, Luce. You’re like a sister to me. A sibling I actually want.” Haedes’ hair shimmers beneath the warm lighting of the eternal flames, highlighting certain strands of his cobalt hair lilac. I widen my eyes, wanting to seem innocent, knowing that what I’m about to suggest might well get me thrown from the room altogether.

  “I wish that you’d at least find out if this Sinclair girl is your daughter.” He opens his mouth to speak, but I bring my hand from his shoulder to his lips, hushing his retort as I continue to spin in his arms. “If I’d had someone like you as a father, I’d have wanted to know him. She’d be lucky to have you. Even if you don’t see it, I do,” I express, and he cocks his head, raising one blue eyebrow with a look of half amused disdain on his lips and malice in his eyes.

  “You think I’d make a better father than a rapist reptilian demon God? Gee… thanks. I forgot how high your standards are when it comes to parenting.” His tone sings victory, as though this is the end of the matter, but I narrow my own gaze, tilting my chin upward in defiance.

  “Well… if you won’t do anything about it, I will,” I whisper the threat, pushing back out of his embrace and turning from him on the ball of my foot. The skirt of my bloody gown swirls around me, hypnotic as I stalk away from him.

  As I’m about to reach the high, arched, double doors that lead to the entrance hall, hoping to catch Xion before he leaves, my pupils contract, and I raise a hand in front of my face as flames rise from the floor. Haedes is now standing in front of me, blocking my path.

  “Don’t do this, Luce. I don’t want her. I don’t want anything to do with her. I can’t. I just can’t,” he pleads with me, looking weak and unlike a God.

  I push him aside, not caring for his own personal shortcomings, and take off through the doors, rushing down the sweeping crystal steps which are peppered with black and greys, much like the ballroom from which I’ve just come.

  My breathing relaxes as I sight him, a mass of leather and muscle, waiting by the edge of the small gondola dock which will allow him to board transport on the River Styx.

  The river runs directly through the centre of the open plan lobby of the Exilia Multum, surrounded only by wide arches interspersed with the supporting crystal columns which hold up the enormous faceted shard. The light in the lobby is pouring in, vermillion, from the sky outside and the horizon looks smoky. I expect a spark shower any minute now.

  “Xion! Wait!” I call out, pulling my skirt up so it’s fluttering around the middle of my calves as I hurry toward the rushing of the milky river water.

  It’s running high today, a sure sign that there’ll be plenty of paperwork waiting for me tomorrow with a bunch of new arrivals in tow.

  “Luce? I thought I was delusional.” He looks unimpressed as he turns to me, and I roll my eyes.

  “Hey, don’t blame me. It’s not my fault he’s the Goddess of Denial,” I quip, and Xion laughs.

  “Yet another thing he and Sephy have in common.” Xion enlightens me, and I pucker my lips as I scrutinise him. Every time he talks about this girl he gets a heated look behind his eyes, making me curious about his intent.

  “Do you really think she’s his daughter, Xion? I mean, we can’t just bring her here unless you’re certain. Are you?” I ask him, and he shifts on his feet, serious as he widens his stance.

  “If I was going to put a bet on it, I’d say yes. She even looks like him. She has control over the Eternal Flame… besides, she’s Demi Sinclair’s daughter. What are the odds of that happening and her being entirely mortal? Something’s not right. I just need proof.” I sigh out, seeing the undeniable certainty on his face as his eyes crease in the corners and his lips press into a hard line. The dark skies and dim lighting cause shadows to pain his edgy features, revealing his anxiety.

  “Right. Well then, there’s nothing else to be done…” I begin, but suddenly he looks uncomfortable.

  “Wait a minute… did you say you want me to bring her here?” he as
ks, referring back to my previous statement.

  “Well, of course. She needs to head on over to the Indicatus courts. Only the fates can reveal what has passed. Only they can give us the proof we need to convince Haedes of her legitimacy.” I feel as though this is an obvious next step, but Xion looks less than convinced.

  “It’s not going to be easy… I mean, I tried to tell her about her father’s debt, and she looked at me like I was insane. She isn’t exactly going to willingly take a journey with me across dimensions just because I say please…” he frowns and I laugh.

  “She had trouble believing you? I thought you said there was a Banshee attack? That you’d seen her use The Eternal Flame?” I query him, suspicious. How could any mortal deny the existence of this place after seeing the horrors that come from within its blackened rotten heart?

  “You know how I said she and Haedes have that whole denial thing in common? Yeah, well, she’s really good at it,” Xion explains, and I sigh, shaking my head.

  “Didn’t you present her with your true self? I would have assumed you’d have shifted when the Banshee attacked?” I question him, knowing that the level of threat when confronting demons is one of the most likely things to cause his Abraxian self to present.

  “I uh… I didn’t have to. She took care of it. I just stood there and watched.” He looks hideously embarrassed and blushes, something I’ve never seen him do in all the years I’ve known him. Not ever.

  “Wait… this girl, she killed a Banshee, and you just watched?” I want to laugh, but for his sake, I pull back the urge and settle for a smirk instead. He looks a little pissed off at my amusement, quickly changing the subject.

  “If you think that scaring her into coming here is going to work, then you need something a little more drastic than my face. Trust me. She’s pretty hard to rattle.” As he explains her further, or at least attempts to as she seems to have him utterly perplexed, a gondola moves beneath the arch of the external columns of the Exilia Multum, approaching us at constant ebbing speed with the cloudy current.

  “Look, just get her to the courts. Besides, it’s for her safety. If she’s been the victim of one attack already, who knows what’ll happen when the Demon Lords work out who she is, if they don’t know that by now. She’ll be dead within a week without proper protection.” I grimace, not sure why I care so much about Haedes being a father, but unable to resist the urge to meddle in his personal affairs. Maybe it’s because I’ve been bored lately, or because I feel that being woken up by the sounds of his electric blue Gibson Les Paul at three a.m. gives me the right to dish out a little payback. Either way, we need to know the truth, if not because the girl is in danger then because I’m nosey, curious, and I want my questions answered like a spoiled child wants a pony.

  “Okay, I’ll try,” he sighs, stepping into the gondola being guided by a female ferrywoman with white hair and cornflower blue eyes. The gondola shakes, dipping as he steps inside, and the wooden bones, which make up its structure carved from the black charred trees of the sanguine forest, creak beneath his weight.

  “Good luck.” I wish him on his way as the gondola doesn’t stop to allow a long goodbye, but just keeps on moving with the current of the ghostly river.

  I turn on my heel, not one for sentimentalism, and decide to return to my room, too excited by the prospect of fresh blood around these musty old halls to sleep.

  Besides, I’ll be able to watch the spark shower that is most definitely brewing from my balcony.

  I ascend the spiral staircase at the back of the lobby, which rises into the tallest tower of the Exilia Multum, bar one; the Solar Observatory belonging to Haedes.

  I ascend into the shadows of the tower which holds my alchemy chamber and the sprawling suite in which Thane and I spend most of our time. The room hasn’t been chosen for any other reason than that it’s at the furthest point away from Haedes’ room, and from here, the sounds of orgasm and expertly played instruments are at least dulled by the distance.

  I reach the heavy wood of the door and fall into it with my full weight, treading quickly into the only place I’ve ever really felt at home.

  It’s onyx, alabaster and scarlet in colour scheme, with crystal fixings and crushed velvet upholstery in every direction. The large chandeliers tinkle as I close the door behind me, the red of the eternal flame within each of the candelabra flickering at the disturbance in the air.

  I tread through the room, looking for any sign that she might have returned, and that’s when I hear it.

  Mangled cries, those that are all too familiar, coming from our enormous balcony. I hurry through the suite, grabbing a black velvet throw from the edge of the sofa and making haste towards the ceiling-height, faceted glass doors. I see her silhouette, transforming as she cries out in pain, and throw the doors open, revealing behind them the shaking and angularly broken form of my lover as she shifts from raven to mortal once more.

  “Thaney! You’re home!” A grin spreads across my face, the kind that only her presence brings on, as she looks up from her crouched position on the floor. Her skin is flawlessly rough again and only a few black feathers remain, scattered around her on the floor, where she has changed from bird to woman.

  I sweep forward, wrapping her in the blanket and pulling her lips against mine, desperate to feel her ragged breathing hot against my wanton flesh.

  I usher her inside through the doors, forgetting for a moment the events of the evening and taking in her androgyny, her stunning stormy eyes and messed black hair which is cropped and wild against her bony face and overly large eye sockets.

  She is beautiful. Just like the day I’d first laid eyes on her in the Othrysian Orchard. A memory which I relive every chance I get and a rare highlight from my painful childhood.

  “Yes, I thought I best come back early. Looked like a spark shower,” she breathes out, clearly glad to be home.

  I know the transformation takes its toll on her, a curse from her mother Nemesis for choosing me over her place among the purest Gods in The Higher Plains.

  I run my fingernails along her bare arms as I wrap the throw around her tighter, but she pulls away, shedding the material and stretching up high, presenting her breasts to me in their full glory. Her spindled form is an artist’s dream, and I wonder if she’ll let me paint her again…

  I realise I’m getting distracted, letting my gaze rise to her face as I try to cool the wanderlust of my eyes which trek, adventurous, across her skin.

  “Something’s happened,” I announce and she raises one eyebrow. I love it when she does that…

  “And what might that be?” she asks me, taking a few paces forward and dangling her long arms around my neck. “You look beautiful by the way… far too beautiful to be wasted on Haedes.” Her eyes sparkle with mischievous intent, and I almost fall into silence and move to kiss her again with no intention of stopping.

  Instead though, I check myself, blinking slowly and realising that my curiosity might, on this rare occasion, be greater than the want to bed my woman.

  “Haedes might have a daughter.” I drop the bombshell and Thane falls from her tiptoes, which she’s using to leverage her body against me whilst wrapping her limbs around my form like vines, and her expression turns confused.

  “Excuse me?” She looks rattled, so I move to explain.

  “Demi Sinclair’s daughter… Xion just came from their estate. Apparently, she’s got the ability to produce The Eternal Flame. She single-handedly took down a Banshee. Rendered our boy useless in the process…” I smile, remembering Xion’s embarrassment.

  “Well, I would’ve paid to see that.” Her eyes light up, and I feel my connection to her strengthen as we share the same thought.

  “Me too. Anyway, I told him to bring her to the Indicatus Courts. The fates will know what to do.” I explain, waving a hand and moving to begin kissing her again.

  “Wait… what are you still doing here? You need to be there, Luce.” Thane’s greyish-sapphir
e eyes are serious now as she steps back from me, causing my heart to deflate in my chest as the excitement in my gut dissipates like cooling mist.

  “But… you just got home…” I complain, and she smiles.

  “There’ll be time for that later, baby. You need to be there. You know Haedes will believe anything more readily if he hears it coming from you. He thinks The Fates are decrepit enough as it is. I’d love to hear them trying to convince him he’s a father.” She’s right. Of course she is. She’s the smartest person I know.

  “I better get changed then. Can you call down for a carriage?” I ask her, and she nods, crossing her arms across her bare chest. “Oh, have you seen my headdress?” I ask her, stalling her attempt to get dressed with a cheeky glint in my eye, as I move over to the dresser.

  “Oh, Luce. You’re not going to scare this poor girl, are you?” Thane asks me, running her fingers through her dark hair and ruffling its edgy style in that way I adore.

  “Well… I do love to make an entrance,” I retort, smiling back at her with wicked intent.

  She stares at me, more love in her eyes than I deserve, her perfect face adoring both my smooth and jagged angles as she whispers,

  “Oh… don’t I know it.”

  Chapter Seven

  Welcome To The Jungle

  PANDORA

  The scarlet heavens open and clouds of smoke from the lilac Mortarian sun begin to dissipate as a spark shower begins overhead. There is no mystery as to why everything here is scorched black, nor as to why the Nexus were wise enough to build their city from crystal. The showers can be brutal, not that I mind. I’ve never been afraid of a little fire, especially not when it comes from Haedes.

  The box inside my skirt pocket shakes slightly with the unmistakable rhythm of Banshee tread as Lilliana and I sit opposite from one another across the cracked table. Luckily for me, demons can sense weaknesses in dimensional walls where portals have opened before, or I’d be babysitting all the time.