Cassia tried to sit up, but her head and neck felt like she was trapped in a stockade and unable to move.
“Careful.” Alaia eased Cassia up in slow, slow movements, despite the imaginary stockade, until Cassia sat up on the floor mattress.
Her legs curled under her, her knees to the side. Cassia now wore a robe similar to the gauzy fabric of Mystwalker clothing.
Her thoughts cleared, her mind crystallizing. Horror replaced confusion as she remembered blinding white light and the sound of Jake slamming against the hard wooden wall when her magic flung him away from her.
She cut her gaze to Alaia’s as panic rose up inside like the magic was trying to burst from her again. “Where is he?”
“We were afraid to move him.” Alaia glanced to the left of Cassia, and she swung her gaze in the direction Alaia looked.
Jake lay in a corner of the room, on his side, facing her, his back to a wall. A huge crack, which had definitely not been there before, was now in a beam seven feet above where Jake had crumpled on top of fine, white powder that covered the floor.
She’d blown up something porcelain again.
Who cared about that? Her heart pounded and she held her hand to her chest. Jake. Jake was all that mattered.
A filmy Mystwalker blanket rested on his big body, to his hips, and he was naked from the waist up. His skin was a pale shade of yellow, the scars a horrible white instead of pink, his breathing shallow, his body limp.
A woman knelt near his head, crushing herbs that smelled of chamomile and mint in a mortar as she looked at Jake.
“We are not sure if he suffered internal damage,” Alaia was saying. “Our healers do not understand what has happened to him.”
Cassia had knelt in the white powder by Jake’s side before Alaia finished speaking. Heat seared Cassia’s veins, her entire body flushing so hot she thought her blood might boil.
Her healer instincts kicked in even as her heart pounded so much harder it hurt. She raised her hands and moved her palms above him from his head to his waist. The magic that she used to heal had always been more iridescent than any color, but now it was like liquid gold mixed with stars.
At this moment she hated it because of what her new powers had done to Jake. But, at the same time, that enhanced magic made it clear in her mind what was wrong with him and how she could heal him.
Visions of the Great Guardian tried to force their way into her thoughts but she shoved them back. Not now. Not now!
“An overload.” Cassia closed her eyes and let the surges of knowing rush through her. “Like some cases of being struck by lightning. He might experience temporary paralysis, numbness, tingling, and he will feel like his skin is burning.”
She swallowed hard and glanced at Alaia. “Did his heart stop beating? Did he stop breathing?”
“Barely breathing, but not completely stopped, nor was his heart, as far as we know.” Alaia shook her head. “He was just like this. His condition hasn’t changed.”
Cassia let her healing magic flow into Jake. His color gradually changed from the horrible yellow shade to his normal tanned brown. “How long has it been?”
“Not long.” Alaia knelt between Cassia and the woman using a pestle to grind unfamiliar herbs into the mixture in the mortar.
“Perhaps twenty minutes?” Alaia went on. “We heard you scream, your human cry out, and then a loud cracking noise.” She glanced up at the wall above them, and Cassia saw again the split wooden beam.
“Dear Anu, he’s got to have the biggest egg on his head known to any beings.” Cassia concentrated her magic on Jake’s skull and mind as she moved her hands above his head and closed her eyes.
“Definite bruising,” she continued. “A lump the size of Texas on the back of his head.”
“Texas?” Alaia said, but Cassia ignored her and continued to examine Jake.
Cassia let out a long exhale. “But his skull did not fracture.” She glanced up at the beam again. “He did more damage to it than the beam did to him.”
She looked back at Jake. “I think I can relieve some of his pain, but not all. He’s going to have the Underworld of headaches when he comes to.”
Cassia ran her hands along Jake’s body, drawing out some of the electrical charges still playing havoc with his internal organs. It was a wonder he hadn’t had a seizure.
The smell of herbs grew stronger, and Cassia opened her eyes to see the Mystwalker healer spreading a paste over Jake’s forehead.
“To ease the headaches when he wakes,” the pretty woman said.
Ringlets of flaxen hair fell around her shoulders, and she looked at Cassia with misty gray-blue eyes. The telltale eyes, hair, and pale skin of a Mystwalker made them easy to identify. No other being looked like a Mystwalker—there was something special about them. Something unique.
Cassia glanced at Alaia, the only exception she had ever known among the Mystwalkers. Dark hair, green eyes, and fair skin, about the same shade as the Light Elves’, certainly not the pale, pale flesh that distinguished Mystwalkers. Alaia never spoke of her differences and Cassia didn’t ask. It was far from polite to do so.
When Jake’s breathing deepened, his tan had returned to its normal shade, and his body no longer crackled with as much electricity, Cassia gave a sigh of relief.
“Shall I spread the paste on the human’s chest?” the healer asked, leaning forward as if to do so.
“I think he will be fine now.” Cassia relaxed and smiled at the healer. “He is already resting more comfortably.”
Alaia laid her hands on Jake’s ankles over the covering. “It is safe to move him?”
Between the healer and Alaia, Cassia was not sure she liked any other woman’s hands on Jake for any reason.
“Yes,” Cassia said. “We should put him on the mattress so he can rest more comfortably.” No doubt Jake wouldn’t be too happy to learn that two women could lift his big body onto the bed, but she and Alaia did so with ease. Distant cousins of the Elves, Mystwalker men and women had inherited Elvin strength, and lifting any man—Fae, Elvin, or otherwise—was usually not a problem.
Cassia decided she’d keep that little bit of information to herself.
22
“Abort!” Jake shouted as Pacer stepped onto the mouth of the cave.
An explosion erupted in the night.
Frozen, almost fried in the roiling fire, Jake watched Pacer disintegrate. Slow-motion. Vivid. Every detail sharply outlined in yellow-white flames and black smoke.
“No!” Jake’s voice vanished in the booming sound of the blast as horror ripped through him.
The explosion slammed into each of Jake’s men. In the orange glow, Jake watched as each was flung from beside the cave. Their flesh burned from their bones before they landed on the ground.
Jake started to shout out again, but the blast’s power slammed into his own body and propelled him through the air, away from the fire.
As if leaving him alive to remind him of his failure—and to torture him for the rest of his life.
* * *
Jake shouted as he bolted upright in bed. Images of fire and flesh being ripped from bones were all he could see.
Sweat poured down his body and he could barely breathe as he slowly returned to reality.
A nightmare.
A memory.
Pain.
Jake rubbed his chest. He deserved the pain. The agony he went through every time he had that dream.
More agony pierced Jake’s consciousness as pain splintered through his head.
He felt as if a Drow warrior had shot one of their diamond-headed arrows through his skull.
Jake collapsed onto the mattress so that he was flat on his back. He stared up at an open-beamed ceiling, gradually remembering where he was and what he was doing here.
Why the hell did his head hurt so bad?
Oh, yeah. Life-threatening sex. Giving Cassia an orgasm had just about killed him.
Jake put his hand to his fore
head, planning to rub his temples, when he touched something slimy and wet.
What? Jake rubbed the slick substance as he opened his eyes and brought his hand in view. Thick greenish-white paste was on his fingers, which smelled like herbs the witches used back home.
Speaking of witches. He wiped the stuff on his sweaty, bare chest, figuring he could take a shower, or a bath at the least.
He pushed himself up on the mattress and looked around the room where he’d given Cassia her first orgasm. Right before her magic pitched him like a fucking baseball.
He winced and glanced up at the ceiling.
Yep. One of the wooden beams was cracked.
Good thing he had a hard head.
Hard-headed and bullheaded, that was him.
If this was what happened every time he made love to her, it would be a wonder if he survived their next time alone.
Had that been the transition? Was she through it? Jake wondered if that was all there was to it, and if they were on the home stretch.
Or, when they actually made love, would it be worse? If he survived that, would it happen every time they made love?
And they would be making love.
If this hadn’t been the transition they’d been warned about, and there was more, maybe worse, to come—he had to convince the Great Guardian to teach him how to do this without getting his skull fractured.
The polished deep gold wood of the room looked the same—except for that crack in the beam.
Unfortunately, not everything in the room had survived. A mirror lay shattered on the floor. The glass of the window had been blown out and the shutters hung cockeyed. White dust coated the floor like something had been ground into a fine powder. A chair had lost all of its legs and a cabinet lay on its side.
Whoa.
He gingerly touched the egg on the back of his head. Thing was as big as two fists side by side.
Yeah, it was a wonder he’d survived.
But, damn, what an incredible moment that had been.
Jake eased off the mattress and spotted his jeans and T-shirt folded neatly on a long, narrow table against the wall that had managed to survive Cassia’s orgasm. Next to his clothing lay his shoes, still stuffed with his socks.
Other than a killer headache, a little dizziness, and slight numbness—he couldn’t feel the pads of his fingers or his toes—all in all he felt better than he’d expected.
What a woman.
On the polished wooden surface of the narrow table, a clean, dry cloth lay next to a pitcher and a water basin. His grandmother used to have one of those.
Before Jake put on his clothes, he poured water from the pitcher into the basin and then splashed the water onto his face. He splashed his face a few more times and rinsed the gooey crap off his forehead.
Some of that powder from the floor was on his body, too. He wet the cloth with clean water from the pitcher and washed his face and chest before draping the cloth over the basin.
He dressed, and his clothing looked, felt, and smelled freshly laundered, as if it’d hung on a clothesline in the wind and sunshine.
The nightmare wouldn’t totally leave him and the pain of it clenched his chest.
He was still numb from whatever Cassia’s magic had done to him, and he felt like that ball-peen hammer was being slammed into his head instead of him slamming one into a tree.
Jake left the cabin and entered the world of the free Mystwalkers.
That thought—free Mystwalkers as opposed to the ones who were kept as pleasure-slaves—gnawed at his gut.
Mellow sunshine warmed his skin as he walked away from the cabin. Thanks to the fact he’d been knocked out when he was hauled off to the sanctuary, he hadn’t seen anything but the inside of the cabin.
Man, the place was incredible. Sheer crystal cliffs veined with gold stretched toward the sky, and a waterfall cut a loud path through jagged spears of crystal.
Flowers in brilliant shades dotted the landscape. Small fields, about the size of a football field, of what might be vegetables, stretched out in one area of the sanctuary. Fruit trees, as well as trees with leaves of unusual colors, made the scenery bright and beautiful.
The sanctuary was even more incredible than the City of the Light Elves, as far as Jake was concerned. But he figured he might be a little biased considering the Mystwalkers actually seemed friendly.
Whatever they were doing—working in fields, caring for animals, or just passing by—the men and women here acknowledged Jake with a smile and a nod.
A few Mystwalker children giggled and waved at him before dissolving into low-hanging mist and slipping away through the trees.
Jake had to smile. Cute kids.
Cassia caught him off guard, seemingly from nowhere, and flung her arms around his neck.
So much for my Spidey-senses.
He winced as the jarring movement rocked his skull, but didn’t care. It just felt good to have her in his arms again. He only wished his fingers could feel her soft body as he stroked her arms.
“Jake,” she said against his chest as he held her close to him. “I was so, so worried about you.”
“I’m fine.” He leaned back and managed a smile. “In fact, incredible.”
Or he would be if only the haunting nightmare would leave him.
Cassia looked so worried it was adorable. “After what I did to you?”
He raised his hand and brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “I liked being your first.”
With an indignant and almost angry expression, she let him go and braced her hands on her hips. “I almost killed you!”
“What a way to go.” He grinned and she frowned, but he gripped her waist, brought her tighter against him, and kissed that frown right off her face.
Jake couldn’t get enough of her kiss, the taste of her, which included a slight honey flavor, as if she’d just had something to drink that had honey in it. He felt her gold magic expand and start swirling around them.
He groaned as he kissed her, and remembered the way her lips had felt around his length. The suction of her mouth, her soft little moans, and the way she stroked his balls. Time to change the subject or he would come right now.
A loud crack followed by a popping sound startled Jake, and something slimy pelted his skin.
Cassia broke their kiss as she moved her hands to his chest and pushed. He kept his grip on her waist, but raised his head to see her gold magic starting to wane.
Next to them lay a wooden field tool snapped in half, probably the crack they’d heard. Beside the thing, a vegetable that looked like a purple pumpkin had exploded. Goo scattered across the ground and pasted Jakes and Cassia’s clothing.
He turned his attention back to her. “I’ll take that as a ‘You really turn me on, Jake.’”
Cassia shoved harder at his touch, her expression turning confused, frustrated, sad even.
“What’s wrong, Princess?” He took a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers, enjoying the silk of it even as his concern for her rose.
Cassia closed her eyes then opened them. “What we did—it was a mistake. A really big one.”
It was his turn to frown, but she continued, “Not only was it the wrong thing to do, but I was terrified for you. I was so afraid I had hurt you.” Her eyes looked a little misty and her voice grew softer. “Or worse.”
Jake smiled, wanting to brush away her concern. “You could say sex with you is nothing short of explosive.” He moved his mouth to her ear and murmured, “I can’t wait to see what happens when I’m inside you.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I cannot let anything like this happen again.”
“Sure you will, only next time I’ll wear a radiation suit and a football helmet,” he said with a smile.
Cassia’s expression was so sad that his smile faded almost instantly. He was going to make her tell him what was going on when Alaia and Breacan walked up.
Jake looked at Breacan. “Where’s that wrestling ring?”
Breacan’s expression was serious but he had a teasing light in his eyes. “When we finish our discussions, I will be happy to show you, human.”
“You’re on, Mystwalker,” Jake replied, and Breacan gave a low nod, laughter now in his gaze.
Cassia glared from Breacan to Jake. “You are not fighting.” She narrowed her gaze on Jake. “Again.”
Jake knew these guys had superhuman strength, like the Elves, but he was spoiling for another fight and he wouldn’t go down easy. He was a black belt in jujitsu and a highly trained Marine who’d served on countless high-risk recon missions.
After splitting a wooden beam with his head, he figured he got a few points, or an honorary Otherworld black belt, or something.
Cassia still glared at him as they walked with Breacan and Alaia along a path and around a couple of bends to a bunch of shaggy trees. They slipped behind the trees and entered the yawning mouth of an enormous cave in the crystal wall.
Torches came to life as they walked into the cave made of pure, clear, cut crystal. The torchlight glittered and refracted on the crystal and a guy couldn’t help but be impressed.
The cave opened up even more into a small cavern. Here the crystals varied in colors, like different gems that glittered within the stalagmites pushing up from the floor and stalactites hanging from the ceiling. The veins of some kind of gold metal were thicker in here than they had appeared to be in the crystal walls.
“We did not complete our contribution to the war before the final battle with the dark goddess,” Alaia said as she moved toward a pile of something gold that Jake couldn’t make out. “We could not effectively produce the kinds of weapons required to destroy the demons and the dark goddess.”
She continued, “Our seers made it clear you would need weapons effective in water, after you dealt with the dark goddess. That, of course, is where our specialty lies.”
They reached the pile and Jake raised an eyebrow. Piles and piles of collars like the ones the Mystwalkers wore. “Collars?” he said.
Alaia had a regal tilt to her head as she looked at Jake. “Not everything is as it appears, human.”
The Dark Page 22