The Dark

by Cheyenne McCray

  “I suppose I should tell you a little about the Mystwalkers before we meet up with them.” Cassia stepped on a log with Elvin grace. It was almost as if she floated above the ground and then over the log. And directly away from the subject of their relationship.

  Smooth in every way, aren’t you?

  Jake grunted as a sharp crack echoed in the forest when he came up behind her and stepped on the same log.

  “Mystwalkers are distant relations of the Elves.” Cassia slipped past a bush before pausing and looking at the ground. “They are beings who can change from mist to human form and back.”

  With a bemused expression, she picked up a pinecone from the forest floor and examined it. The pinecone had an unusual sparkle to it. Like sunlight winking through the trees.

  She continued, “But Mystwalkers have to stay away from salt water—as far as possible. If they are touched by salt water, they cannot hold their mist forms. They must be well cleansed in freshwater to be able to shift again.”

  Cassia again scrutinized the pinecone she held before she stopped and set it upright on a tree stump. Jake almost bumped into her before she went back to walking.

  “That’s a Faerie cone” she said, “and it shouldn’t be on the ground.”

  Jake glanced at the cone, which winked with tiny lights as he strode by it.

  Before he could ask her what a Faerie cone was, she went on talking. “Some believe Mystwalkers are rightfully slaves to the Shanai, a warrior race that is situated near a large ocean far from here.”

  “Are they?” Jake watched Cassia’s hair swing above her sexy ass as she walked ahead of him. “Slaves?”

  “That’s been of some debate.” Cassia glanced over her shoulder at him. “Many, many years ago the Shanai offered the Mystwalkers a trade. The Shanai would protect the mostly defenseless Mystwalkers from evil forces in exchange for the right to enjoy the Mystwalkers’ legendary talents at lovemaking.”

  She pursed her lips before facing forward again. “It was an agreement the Mystwalkers entered into willingly. But when they are in sexual service, they are banded with a ring made from a special alloy that keeps them from taking their mist form. That’s where the slavery debate comes in.”

  “What’s to debate? If they’re trapped, kept from leaving, they are slaves.” Another branch slapped him in the face, stinging his cheek and nose. “They don’t have a choice.”

  Cassia sighed, the only sound he heard from her as she slipped around more brush. “Again, that’s been questioned more times than there are leaves on this tree.” She pointed up into a huge tree. “The Mystwalkers made a commitment. The Shanai are holding them to it.”

  “Slaves,” Jake scowled. “Plain and simple.”

  “A willing trade, Jake.” Cassia scooped up a large dead leaf shaped like an oak leaf, only blue.

  “A great faction that is not ‘protected’ by the Shanai would agree with you,” she said. “They are free Mystwalkers. There aren’t a lot of free Mystwalkers compared to how many serve the Shanai, but the faction is growing. And they aren’t as defenseless as they once were.”

  She added, “In fact, the free Mystwalkers can be dangerous, if provoked.”

  “No way are you going to convince me that these Mystwalkers are anything but slaves,” Jake said in a growl.

  She turned and studied him as they both came to a stop. “There’s something more to this for you, isn’t there,” she stated in a thoughtful, gentle tone. “You don’t believe in slavery, for clear-cut reasons that I happen to agree with.”

  Jake set his jaw tighter, holding back words and emotions that wanted to burst from deep inside him.

  Cassia brought her hand up and rested it on one of his arms as she continued, “Something happened. Something bad. And that bad thing is what you’ve been holding back from me.”

  He gritted his teeth as he remained silent, but still she held his gaze.

  “It has something to do with what the Great Guardian said, doesn’t it,” she stated softly.

  Jake shook out of her touch and strode past her, his jaw set, his insides on fire.

  Cassia was instantly at his side and she snatched his wrist and brought him to a halt again. “You’re going to tell me.”

  He closed his eyes and inhaled the clean scents of the forest. When he opened his eyes, the words came easier than he’d expected, like Cassia had used magic on him to draw the story out.

  “When I served in the Marines in Afghanistan, I led a special recon squad.” Jake followed Cassia’s lead and sat on a relatively flat rock while she perched on a large fallen log. “We were responsible for ferreting out paranormal threats to our nation and theirs.”

  Cassia nodded in a way meant to encourage him as she said, “Over the years I’ve heard that such military activities take place all over the world.”

  Jake ran his hand over his stubbled jaw. “Yeah, well, I really screwed up with the recon squad I led.”

  Cassia didn’t say anything, and the words just kept coming out.

  “We discovered that a group of magical seers, healers, and practitioners from around the world had been brought to a small Afghani village in the Bamiyan Valley. They were being kept as slaves by a dark magic cult.”

  He spoke in a low, rumbling voice. “The people the sect captured were more than prisoners. They were forced to serve as slaves.

  Cassia looked as though she was holding her breath as he spoke. He could see his pain reflected in her eyes, as if she knew what had happened and what he’d been through.

  He shifted on the rock he sat on. “The dark magic cult used the seers to vision, scry, or use whatever other methods they could to spy on the U.S. military.”

  He shook his head. “Bastards threatened the seers by telling them if the seers didn’t give correct information on U.S. government intelligence, they would eliminate a healer or practitioner of their magical faith. They’d kill one person every time a seer failed in his or her vision.”

  Cassia studied him, her hands folded in her lap, a quiet, calm expression on her face.

  He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs as his thoughts continued back to that time. “During our recon, we discovered where one of these cults held their slaves. I was a cocky sonofabitch, and immediately organized my squad to go in and take out those bastards.”

  At the memories, Jake wanted to slam his fist on the rock he sat on, but figured a broken hand wasn’t going to do him any good. “I got approval, and took my men in”—he ground his teeth before continuing—“and got them slaughtered.”

  Pain from the gut-wrenching memories closed off his throat, and tremors caused his hands to shake. The image of Pacer’s body exploding seared his mind, along with images of the bodies of his men scattered around the cave entrance.

  Familiar rage twined with the pain and he wanted nothing more than to be back at the village, tearing every one of those black-magic practitioners into pieces.

  The tremors in his hands moved through his body, and he wanted to slam his fists into one of the trees over and over and over again until his knuckles bled, all the skin torn off from the power of his fury.

  Instead, Jake looked up and wasn’t sure how to read the expression on Cassia’s face. Shock? Concern?

  “It was a trap, and I led my men right into the middle of it.” He turned his gaze from Cassia’s again. A bitter taste was on his tongue and he spit it out onto the leaves on the side of the rock.

  “Half my squad was taken out.” He stared at the ground as he shook his head. “We finally eliminated most of that cult, but not before they killed my men—and most of the seers and other slaves.”

  He looked back at Cassia and her eyes were closed, an expression of pain on her face. Definitely pain.

  Jake couldn’t believe he’d just completely spilled his guts. He’d never even talked with Bourne about what had happened during that mission.

  Cassia opened her eyes and got up from the log she’d been sitting
on. She knelt between his thighs and rested her head against his chest, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held onto him.

  “You blame yourself for this so much that you haven’t healed.” She tipped her head back to look up at him. “That’s why you keep such an emotional distance from everyone.”

  The expression on Cassia’s features and the way she held him calmed the raging beast inside him, and the tremors in his body stopped.

  “I guess I do avoid getting emotionally attached.” Jake heaved a sigh as he reached up and stroked Cassia’s hair with his fingers. “To anyone but you,” he said in a low voice.

  Cassia hugged him again, her face buried against his T-shirt.

  “I don’t know how you got in, but you did.” He squeezed her closer to him. “And I won’t let anything get between us and keep us apart.”

  She didn’t say anything for a long time, but he felt the warmth of her tears soak through his shirt to his chest. Why was she crying?

  When she finally raised her head, she moved to her feet and took his hand in hers, drawing her up beside him. “You have to release the pain.” She squeezed his fingers. “Stop taking blame for something that wasn’t your fault. You did what you had to and made what you thought was the right decision.”

  “It was the wrong—”

  She put the fingers of her free hand to his lips. “Stop. Think about what I said.”

  Jake kept his mouth clamped shut as they started walking through the forest again. He didn’t know what the hell to think. Somehow she had calmed him enough that the painful memories slipped away and his focus narrowed in on her.

  Right now he just knew that Cassia was an extraordinary woman and he didn’t want to screw up with her. Yeah, she’d gotten inside him, and he knew he could never let her go.

  Cassia brought them to a stop when they reached a small clearing shadowed by extraordinarily massive trees.

  Jake was about to ask what would provoke the mist-beings, or whatever they were, when he realized the trees here were bigger around than two or three houses crammed along a San Francisco block. Maybe bigger.

  And damn they were tall. He craned his neck up to see as he walked. You could stack four of those houses on top of each other and still not reach the treetops.

  Jake turned his attention to the clearing itself. A crystal blue pond took up the center, the pond surrounded by thick grass and wildflowers that made the air smell perfumed. A breeze skimmed the hair on his arms and caused small ripples on the surface of the pond.

  Jake caught her hand and brought her around to face him. “How much farther?” he asked and took her other hand and squeezed.

  “Right—”

  A prickling sensation traveled up Jake’s spine and he caught the distinct scent of magic.

  He jerked his head up at the same time his right hand went to his holstered Glock.

  19

  Jake’s heart pumped as he scanned the meadow. He didn’t see anything but a thick mist gathering just feet from them, and he caught the strong smell of magic.

  It hit him. Mystwalkers.

  He was sensing their presence.

  And scenting their magic.

  Cassia touched his arm and he let his hand fall to his side, although he remained on guard.

  A sense of curiosity and wonder raised goose bumps on his arms as he watched forms rise out of the heavy mist and solidify.

  Three males. Four females. All wearing clothing so light it could have been mist, too. Around each of their necks was an engraved gold band about an inch wide.

  Didn’t Cassia say the Shanai enslaved Mystwalkers with rings, not collars?

  None of these men and women wore rings.

  With the exception of one woman, the Mystwalkers had long blond hair and gray-blue eyes. The other woman’s hair fell just as long, but as dark as the rich dirt at their feet, and she had an intense green, green gaze. The dark-headed woman had small braids to either side of her face and one thick braid down her back. Gold bands fastened the ends of the braids.

  The four men were as broad-shouldered and about the same height as Jake, and the women were fine-boned and a little taller than Cassia.

  Cassia gave a slight bow and the Mystwalkers did the same. Jake wasn’t into bowing so he settled for a nod in their direction.

  The dark-haired woman stepped forward and extended her hands to Cassia, and smiled. “You look well, Princess Cassiandra.”

  Cassia smiled in return as they took each other’s hands and squeezed. “As do you.” She turned to Jake. “Jake, I would like you to meet Alaia, leader of the Council of free Mystwalkers.” Jake gave the beautiful woman a slight nod. “Nice to meet you,” he said, unable to think of anything more original.

  “Alaia, this is Jake Macgregor of the Earth Otherworld.” Cassia and Alaia released hands. “He is a commander of his people and a leader of the Alliance.”

  A clean pure scent, like the light perfume of carnations, met Jake’s senses as she took a step closer and studied him. Her guarded look told him she was wary and that she was analyzing him, dissecting him. As if she might be able to reach inside and pull out every thought and emotion he had.

  Jake studied her as intently as she stared at him. Damned if he’d back down in a staring contest. He’d been a cop too long to break. Judging by her expression, the shrewd look in her eyes, and the way she carried herself, she was likely a strong leader. A good one? He’d have to do a little observation before he made that determination.

  Finally Alaia gave him a slight nod and turned her attention to Cassia. “Come. We have prepared for your arrival.” She glanced at Jake again. “However, the location of the free Mystwalkers is secret. Perhaps we should blindfold the human?” A teasing glint sparked in her eyes.

  “Let’s tie him up, too.” Cassia laughed. “I think I’d enjoy that.”

  Jake couldn’t help a grin as he looked down at Cassia. “You’d enjoy being tied up?”

  Cassia flushed. “You. Not me.”

  “Uh-huh.” He looked at Alaia. “Lead the way.”

  “Humans are not known for their stealth.” The Mystwalker leader lowered her voice. “Truly, we must be cautious.”

  Jake figured they’d probably heard him coming a mile away while he and Cassia approached the meeting place.

  “I’ll go barefoot if you’d like me to,” Jake said, half serious.

  “That would help.” Alaia surprised him with her stern reply as she gave a sharp nod. “You must be as quiet as possible.”

  Jake had the urge to salute, as if he was back in his military days.

  “If not, we will be forced to use other methods to ensure your silence,” Alaia added before turning away.

  “I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” he muttered as he jerked off his running shoes and socks, stuffing his socks into the shoes.

  Cassia smiled again. “Oh, I do,” she said before following Alaia.

  “I’ll just bet,” he added in a grumble.

  The rest of the Mystwalkers vanished as they shifted into nothing but thick mist that hovered close to the ground and moved ahead of them.

  Alaia remained in her physical form while they worked their way through the trees. Small stones and twigs dug into his bare feet as he walked and gripped his shoes in one hand.

  Soon it was pretty obvious that, for the life of him, Jake couldn’t be as silent as Cassia and Alaia. Every brush of a branch against his skin, or tiny snap of a twig, or slight crunch of a leaf beneath his feet echoed through the forest like he’d taken a ball-peen hammer to one of the trees.

  He’d never made so much noise in a forest back home. Granted, this forest was in a magical world and he wasn’t magical anything.

  Alaia stopped. Jake came up short behind her, and he winced as another leaf crunched beneath his foot. An expression of both frustration and determined resolution glittered in her gaze as she stared at Jake.

  Oh, shit.

  “Breacan.” Alaia glanced at one spot
in the mist, and a male form rose up from the ground.

  Jake stood his ground and clenched his shoes in one fist. The hard look in Breacan’s eyes caused Jake’s spine to feel like a rodent had crawled up his back to his nape.

  “What the—” Jake started when Breacan reached out and touched his fingers to Jake’s forehead.

  A sensation like all his bones had vanished caught Jake off guard. He had no feeling in his body and felt like he’d been shot with an elephant-tranquilizer gun.

  He dropped.

  Breacan caught Jake under his arms and then the Mystwalker slung Jake over his shoulder. His shoes slipped from his fingers and thumped on the ground

  “Sonofab—” Jake mumbled just as his face hit Breacan’s back.

  Lights out.

  * * *

  Cassia winced as Jake flopped against Breacan’s shoulder before the Mystwalker began striding north again. Jake was going to be so angry—or pissed, as he would put it—when he came to.

  She scooped up Jake’s big shoes, which still had his socks jammed in them. She had to smile at the sight of such a huge man as Jake being carried over another man’s shoulder.

  Jake hadn’t made that much noise—not for a human—but this was the world of Fae and Elves, and they made no sounds as they traveled.

  Any being trying to pursue them would find it nearly impossible. It depended on the race, though. Elves and Fae were excellent trackers, but so were races like the Shanai.

  The Shanai weren’t evil—far from it. They were a tough race of men and women who tended to be black and white in their judgment. And in their judgment these Mystwalkers were violating an ironclad bargain, and should be held accountable—not to mention returned to sexual service.

  “How is Geldian Princess?” Cassia asked Alaia in a voice too light for the wind to carry it.

  Alaia froze for a moment before continuing to walk. “The Shanai captured her.” A silent, but matter of fact statement filled with pain and bitterness. “Taken with Cerra.”