Ethan remained close, his breath warm against my face. He moved his head slightly, his lips brushed lightly against my skin. It seemed like a million years ago when Ethan being this close would have made me uncomfortable, and now I relaxed against him. His heart was beating erratically. “Are you okay?” he finally asked, as we remained stilled against the floor, our ragged breaths finally slowing to normal. We lay in silence, his body enveloped around mine, his lips brushing against the nape of my neck. I was vividly aware of everything around me, the sound of his breathing, the warmth of his body, the way his lips brushed lightly against my skin.
By the time we were standing, the Aufero was pulsing against the ottoman, the sunburst coloring smothered by a dark fog. It throbbed for its survival, expanding to the brink of destruction, then relaxing.
The Aufero wouldn’t stop moving. There were erratic bursts of color as it attempted to regurgitate what we had forced into it. As though it resolved to its fate, it calmed, but lost its vibrant color, now a burnt orange. What type of magic had the Aufero pulled from Ethan that devoured it, leaving an eclipsed version of its former self?
For nearly five minutes we stood in silence until I couldn’t deal with it any more. “How do you feel?” I finally asked. It wasn’t what I really wanted to know, but saying “What the hell was inside of you?” felt downright rude. So I picked the alternative.
“Fine,” he admitted, his gaze shifting to the changed Aufero.
Once again, we were standing across from each other, the unspoken words screaming in the silence. He moved slowly as he started to clean up, starting with the candles that had been extinguished. It was nearly an hour before everything that wasn’t broken was put back in its original spot.
The Aufero had accomplished something that no one could—it saved someone from being “contained.”
“If your grandmother was able to hide, I am sure there are others. We can use this to convince the elves that they no longer need to ‘contain’ the dark elves, but instead remove their magic,” I said.
He stopped clearing away the candles that had survived the gusting winds, vibrations, and trembling of the furniture. The small smile was encouraging, although it was to placate my idealistic views. It was done in that same encouraging manner in which a parent encouraged their talentless child to pursue their dreams. He might as well have patted me on the head, and said, “Of course you can catch the rainbow, you just have to try harder.” And he would continue with his small smile at my failed endeavor.
“I’m serious.”
He didn’t stop clearing things away. “I know. You want to save the world, but realistically, you can’t.” He stopped and looked up, I couldn’t read his expression: not quite blank; there was a hint of something. Admiration? Nope, that wasn’t it. Pity? Maybe I was getting close. Concern? I think that was it.
“No, not the world, just people that are given a death sentence for being born into something they can’t help. Maybe we could work out something with Mason and save the lives of these people.” Or Gideon. Based on what I had experienced of Mason, he didn’t seem willing to work with Sebastian under any circumstance, which only made me appreciate the potential change in leadership.
Ethan’s smile of amusement and condescension remained. But I didn’t care, I rambled on about the possibilities and what this meant for the elves and everyone. No longer faced with the obligation to commit manslaughter that Aufero had opened a new door for me. I wasn’t going to be discouraged.
“Letting everyone know you have the Aufero and what you are capable of doing with it isn’t a good idea. You are part of this pack; just by association people will be reluctant to trust you because they will not believe your motives are altruistic. They will assume that you have ulterior motives.”
“Then you all need to do better about improving your public image. Doesn’t it bother you that people have so little trust in you all?” I paused. I was now part of the all. “We need to do more about our image. I don’t like people fearing us,” I admitted,
He nodded again, just another placation. “Perhaps you’re right. We should work harder at making people see us as docile and ineffectual, deny what dwells in us and work on people seeing us as soft and cuddly pushovers. Easily subjugated by anyone who would choose to dominate us. Sounds like a brilliant plan.”
“I realize the importance of a strong pack; there isn’t a need for you to be such a jackass. But what’s wrong with helping others? I can assure you that possessing the ability to restrict those that have the ability to kill with just touch will work in our favor. I think Mason would appreciate that, and if he can’t, then whoever is chosen next might.”
He smirked. “You mean Gideon.”
Of course he knew.
He continued to feign interest in my plan, his titanium eyes distant and intense. “Contrary to what you choose to believe, we are not monsters. Less than a century ago, others felt they needed to contain us, so we are more understanding of the situation. The three times that we abided to the agreement, it was an unavoidable situation and we didn’t find any joy in doing so.”
When he looked away, I remained focused on the defined features that hardened as though something dreadful occupied his thoughts. Ethan’s movements were always too quick, sharp, and predacious even when he wasn’t trying. I stiffened when he took a seat next to me. He said, “Mason is unnecessarily difficult. He will not trust such an altruistic gesture because it is easier to believe we are incapable of such acts.” He exhaled, “When Gideon is in power, then we will visit this again,” he said. Was he serious, or just pretending consideration to quiet me?
He looked out the window, then the clock. “It’s getting late. You should go home, get some rest.”
It was nine forty-six. Yeah, that was late. I was living like a rock star. Hanging out into the wee hours of nine o’clock.
“Of course, I can’t continue to live this party lifestyle,” I said. There were too many things unanswered and I couldn’t leave. “Tell me about the fifth object?” I asked, sinking back into the chair, an act of defiance. A subtle way of saying I wasn’t leaving until I had answers.
Ethan was back to his typical persona, stoicism eclipsed his face, supple lips pulled into a firm line, as a frosty gaze held mine. “It’s late, we will talk about it tomorrow,” he said as he opened the door. The long day had drained most of the fight in me.
“Promise?”
“If possible, we will talk and I will answer whatever question you have to the best of my ability. No more secrets.”
That was worded so perfectly that a novice in dealing with Ethan would have let it slide. “I expect more than answers ‘to the best of your ability’; I expect the truth and real answers.” I gathered my things, including the Aufero, and headed out the door as he watched me from his front door.
“I’ll be back tomorrow at nine,” I said. Then I let his keys, that I had swiped earlier, dangle around my index finger. “I’ll let myself in if you’re not awake.” Then I fiddled with several of the keys on the ring. “Is this one for the office? Oh, let’s not bother with such trivial things. I will just snoop around until you get up. Okay?”
He scowled, but there was still a hint of amusement to it, just a glimpse the danced around the corner of his lips as he worked at the frown. Then things changed. Titanium rolled over his pupils as he focused behind me. He inhaled a deep, ragged breath and spoke as he exhaled. “Skylar, come here,” said the low rough voice. I heard the growling behind me, rumbles like deep like rolling thunder. Chains clanked as they loosened, only to be yanked taut again. Padded footsteps sounded closer, just inches from me. Snarls cut through the air, vicious rumbles. Magic whipped at my back, different from Josh’s, but not the same as dark magic. It weighed against me, freezing me in where I stood. “Skylar, come here,” he repeated in a low warning voice.
Quick hard steps pounded closer toward me. I pulled the Aufero closer to me, and charged toward the door. Once I was clos
e enough, Ethan pulled me into the house behind him, shielding me from the stranger who was behind me and him. The tall man that was barely controlling the monsters he had confined to the thick chain leash. Nothing else would have been able to restrain them. His ocher hair was just a shade darker than his skin. The broad, sturdy body was enough to control the six hounds he had restrained in front of him. The animal, must have been a dog in its previous life, until magic had defiled it into what was before us, just fragments of its former self. They had mutated past that point into malformed monster hounds. Their floppy maws could barely close over the mouth full of canines sharpened to dagger points. Thick legs supported their long sinewy flanks. Dull stubbed variants of black and gray hair covered their bodies.
The stranger was a statue moving ever so slightly to constrain the feral hounds. The breeze made his sand-colored chin-length hair flutter around his face, obscuring his face as the wind hit. As the long blue coat parachuted behind him, it was unable to hide the concealed sword and rifle he had with him.
“Samuel,” said Ethan in a rough, strained voice.
Samuel looked past Ethan, focusing on me. His head tilted slightly. A light smile formed, when I finally met his gaze. “Can you read the Clostras?” he asked.
I didn’t bother with an answer. I was sure he already knew.
“Give them to me, ” he demanded, stepping closer with the hounds more restless than before, lunging and jumping toward us. Samuel whispered a command and they came to a calm.
“What are you doing here?” Ethan asked.
“Give me the books,” he requested again in a very gentle voice.
“You know that will never happen.”
“Of course it will.” With a simple command, the chains that kept that hounds at bay disappeared and so did Samuel. The largest one led the pack.
Their heavy paws stampeded across the ground, causing it to rumble as their pace continued. One lunged at Ethan. He charged at it with force but it only went a fraction of the distance I expected. It snarled and Ethan’s growl matched its menacing sound. They charged at each other again. Ethan slammed into the creature, holding the creature as it clenched down on his arm. He pounded into its flank, gaining the advantage as he slipped to the side and twisted the massive skull.
Another hound pounced at me, pressing the Aufero to me. I waved and my hand slid through the air. The hound crashed into the other side of the wall. But another attacked me from behind, biting into my leg. I struck into it with my fist, but it clung to my flesh, gripping deeper into it. Blood dampened my pants. Using magic to push it back wasn’t an option because it would have ripped away muscle. I needed him to release. Drilling into it with my elbows, it finally freed its hold, then I used magic to back away and hold it at bay. The Aufero glowed bright orange and black, pulsing erratically as it had during the spell with Ethan. It still hadn’t recovered from the odd color it had changed to.
Ethan took the third creature down even quicker, and his platinum eyes didn’t resemble anything remotely human. I backed up closer to Ethan until we were touching, then I formed a protective field around us. Ethan was injured, bite and claw marks wept blood, and he panted. He looked as feral as the animals that had attacked us, his eyes sharp and gunmetal, the color of his wolf. Keeping my hands in close contact with the Aufero, the thin shield covered us. It was no longer the sheer diaphanous color that I was used to; it was a thick smog that enveloped us and sucked the air out of our bubble and even Ethan noticed. The hounds snarled, chomping aggressively at the restriction. They thrashed against the field. It quivered, but held. The malformed creatures jumped onto their hind legs to claw at the barrier. Then the growling came to a halt. A single growl, then they fell back. Dead.
I dropped the field and considered doing the same with the Aufero. Something was wrong with it. The magic felt off, distorted. I looked at Ethan. He was too distracted to care about the dead hounds laying at our feet and the fact the protective field had done that to them. I had done it to them.
He grabbed my hand and ran toward his garage. Its doors had been ripped from the hinges and all five of the cars had been rendered inoperable. I tried to keep pace with him as he ran, not allowing his injuries to slow him down. He darted through thickets behind his home. Overcrowded by trees, bushes and tall grass, there wasn’t a clear path as we navigated deeper into it until we came to a Jeep Rubicon. Behind it, enough of the area was cleared away to allow passage away from the house to the streets. I am sure that is the way he intended. If the situation were different I would have made a snarky comment about this being unnecessary. But his doomsday preparation was exactly what we needed.
“Do you have your phone?” he asked after we were both seated in the jeep.
“Not with me, I left it in my car.”
He reached over me to open the glove compartment and pulled out an old-school flip phone. I had one too. They were more durable and held a charge longer than the new smart phones because the only thing it could do was make phone calls.
He pushed one button. Josh picked up on the first ring.
“What’s wrong?” he said.
"Samuel's in town and he has the third book and wants the other two."
There was an extended silence and then a rumble of curse words from Josh, and then another temporary silence before he spewed another string of them.
"You need to get out of there. Go to the cabin."
Cabin?
"Okay," he said, then there was a thunderous boom over the speaker followed by a loud crack and then a thud. The sound of struggling went on for a while: grunts, crashes, glass shattering against a hard surface and then silence. Cold hard silence.
Ethan called again and the phone went straight to voicemail. He darted and weaved through the traffic, and I kept checking the rear view mirror for the flashing lights of police cars. Slamming the car into the driveway, he jumped out and approached at a pace that had me running to keep up.
The front door dangled off the hinges, fragmented glass was sprinkled over the floor, furniture tossed around the room, the sofa flipped over, and the remnant of powerful magic was a dense fog in the air. Josh’s distinctive imprint was speckled throughout the room. The permeation of a foreign imprint, strong and overwhelming, cluttered the room as well.
Ethan stared at the splattered blood for too long and the knife, just a few inches from it. “It isn’t his,” he exhaled in relief.
“But this is,” I said about a trail of it leading into Josh’s bedroom. The window’s glass was gone, the dresser embedded in the wall. The mattress was tossed off the frame. I wasn’t sure what a fight between powerful witches was like typically, but this one had been very violent.
I had to run to keep up with Ethan as he left the house. Minutes later, we were speeding down the highway. Ethan focused intently, but not on the road, as he maneuvered in and out of traffic, and twenty minutes later we drove up a gravel driveway to a farmhouse. It was deserted. Ethan grabbed a flashlight out of the car. We searched through the house. Samuel had been there at some point, and had performed magic. Its vestige crept throughout the room as did the odd scent of the hounds. Ethan cursed under his breath and snatched a piece of paper off the counter. Gritting his teeth, he left the house.
By the third semi-deserted home, Ethan’s search became more frenzied and desperate. There wasn't a method; he was just trashing the home, going through the rooms, tossing things around, checking the walls for hidden rooms. But Samuel hadn't been to any of them. The distinct trace of his magic was missing. Ethan’s gaze was erratic, lacking the control I was used to.
“Ethan.” I said his name softly, but there wasn't any calming him.
The vacant look bathed his face, and he grew pallid as he accepted the circumstances.
“He's gone,” he whispered. He left the house, and I made a quick sweep trying to clean up what I could in an acceptable amount of time. I wasn't totally confident that he wouldn't leave me.
One call was m
ade to Sebastian, but I wasn’t surprised to find him along with Winter, Gavin and a few other were-animals at the pack’s house. The moment he walked through the door, Sebastian started with the questions.
“It was definitely Samuel?” Sebastian asked.
Ethan nodded, and handed over the paper he picked up from the other home.
Sebastian looked at it, and the tension formed sharp lines on his face. It was a long moment before he was able to get them to relax. “He thinks we are stupid enough to drop the books off at some disclosed location and trust that he will release Josh. How arrogant.”
Ethan nodded. “I don’t know how he knew we had the books. I am sure he thought Josh had them in his possession. The house was trashed.”
Sebastian contemplated the situation, keeping a careful eye on Ethan, who was pacing the area like a trapped animal. Unrestrained energy rebounded viciously through the room. His hands clenched into fists, and the ragged breaths he took didn’t seem to help.
“Ethan,” Sebastian said quietly, “we cannot give him the books for Josh. I can’t let that happen.”
Sebastian’s hand washed over his face a few times, and the weight of the situation placed a worrisome scowl on it.
As Sebastian watched him, it was a long moment before he spoke. When it came to Josh’s safety, Ethan worked on impulse, not logic. I took my cue from Winter and positioned myself between them. They were now working on separate agendas. For Ethan, getting the other book came second to Josh’s safety. Sebastian had vowed years before that he would protect Josh’s life as though it were his own. And I was sure, in theory, he meant it. But if the Clostra was as dangerous to the lives of thousands, if not tens of thousands, he couldn’t risk it for Josh. He couldn’t for anyone.
Midnight Falls (Sky Brooks Series Book 3) Page 23