"So, what? Play cat and mouse around the slot machines until daylight?" Weldon asked.
"If we gotta."
"What about Miriam?" Delano asked.
Thida stopped with a start. "Dang." Her hand slid through her hair. "We gotta ditch, then. Find somewhere private, shadow transport out, and wait 'til he thinks we abandoned our vehicles."
"Somewhere private?" Weldon grinned at Delano and me. "Can we trust ya won't get distracted with each other?"
"Why would—?" I gave Delano a tight smile. "Don't kiss and tell, huh?"
"I didn't!"
"Our rooms shared a wall." Weldon winked and clicked his tongue. Thida snickered when my mouth dropped.
Delano nodded pensively. "Hm. Yeah. You did get kinda loud."
"Huh?" My face flushed, turning Thida's snickers into laughter. "No I didn't! I—! I—! … I did?"
Delano smirked and popped an eyebrow.
"Oh God," I groaned into my palm.
"There he is," Weldon said.
My head jerked up. The sniffer strode along the casino's outskirt, scanning the crowd. He headed toward the cafe; we looped toward the bar. His cinnamon coat was buttoned shut. His leashed hound wore an orange service animal vest.
"He looks willin' to break Realm rules," Thida said as he disappeared behind a spinning sports car.
Weldon grimaced, then pointed to a staircase with a neon sign stating Fun Dungeon. "Down there looks emptier."
Delano pushed me to the front, keeping the three of them between me and the sniffer as we funneled down the stairs toward an arcade.
"We might need to stay another night in Vegas," Weldon said. "Maybe we can catch a Cirque du Soleil show or somethin'."
"Really?" I beamed at him from over my shoulder. "That would be amazEEE!" I shrieked as James snatched my arm from a burst of shadow. I tugged. Delano lunged. And the last thing I saw was Delano's panicked face as darkness engulfed me like the lethal, silky twirl of a reaper's cloak.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
KRACK! Tick! Tick! Foomf. Clack. Clack. "Hooyah!"
"How embarrassing."
My head swam. My eyes squeezed, trying to spurn the pounding in my temples.
Tap. Tap. "Eight left corner pocket," said a deep voice, swimming in darkness.
KRACK! Foomf-clack. Chuckling and groaning.
I curled my knees. My bare feet slid across plush cushions. The herbal and spice scent of gourmet kitchens weaseled into my nose.
"A fluke. Rack them again," James said.
James.
My eyes shot open. My heart raced, remembering Delano's panicked face, the shadow transports locked in James's arms. We'd emerged in a hallway, then an elevator, then, um, a utility closet? I'd struggled to keep consciousness, but it was too much too fast, each location another head-butt, and soon there'd been only darkness.
Darkness still lingered. It coiled along marble tiles, rolled atop plush geometric rugs, snaked around an enormous flat screen and stereo, and streamed out balcony doors to a honking city below. Frost coated the beige walls like sparkling wallpaper. I seemed afloat in a lake of shadow on a L-shaped, purple suede couch. A bobcat lifted its head from the far cushion, and blinked its yellow eyes.
I jerked up onto an elbow. Across the room, James's eyes locked onto me, flashing like bicycle reflectors. A breathing mountain stood beside him at a pool table, more torso than legs, a wood triangle in hand. The breathing mountain wore all black—his tight T-shirt, his pants, his patent leather shoes, the V pentagram tattooed on his enormous biceps. The only color was the blue light emitting from the stocked bar behind him, glinting off the black handgun on his hip.
"Awake already?" James eyed the wytch. "Time?"
The breathing mountain pulled an Android from his pocket. His eyebrows arched. "Twenty-two minutes."
James leaned against the pool table in khakis and a navy polo shirt. "My, aren't you the strong one. I expected you out for at least an hour. Our rematch is postponed, Fernando. Break out the 50-year Dalmore."
The breathing mountain lumbered to the bar. He filled a tumbler halfway with scotch, diluted it with bottled water, and handed it to James.
"Thirsty?" James appeared at the couch's edge in an inky cloud, offering me the drink. Ice cubes popped to the surface, tinkling against frosted glass. I curled my legs tighter. He shrugged and sipped, then plopped onto the cushion beside me. "You're excused, Fernando, but stay close." James made a clicking-purring sound. The bobcat chuffed from its cushion. "Bring veal for Bob, and…" James's lips twisted. He glanced at me. "What do you want for dinner?"
"I-I'm not staying for dinner."
James grinned; Fernando sniggered. "Surprise us," James said and waved him away.
Fernando paused in the doorway. "Uh, about next weekend."
"Yes, yes, take it off. Just leave."
Fernando beamed, then closed the door behind him.
James chuckled, shaking his head. "Trekkie," he said, jerking his thumb at the door. "You'd think missing a convention would kill him." He downed his scotch, then set the tumbler on the glass coffee table beside a copy of Atlantic Monthly. "So!" he said with a clap of his hands. "How do you want to do this? I was lit when I took the darkshine, but you don't seem the drinking type."
"Look," I said, crossing my hands over my heart with my politest smile. "You seem like a very nice man, but—"
"Hallucinogens would be a ride." He smoothed an eyebrow and admired the vaulted ceilings. "My latest peyote and shroom crops are stellar. Fernando can—"
"I'm sure they're lovely." I tittered nervously. "But about last night. It-it was an accident."
James's brow lifted, his stare intent on me.
"I-I didn't realize how much magic I was pulling, and had no intention of taking the darkshine."
James steepled his forefingers against his mouth, his left eye squint.
"I'm sorry I misled you, but I should find Delano and go home."
James leaned back, crossed a brown loafer over his knee. His ruddy eyes drifted along my body, never traveling above my neck. "Tell me, Miriam. Do you believe in fate?"
Oh, boy. My eyes searched for escapes. The balcony doors were open, the breeze rustling the sheer curtains. The front door was closer, but possibly guarded. The curved staircase to my left led to God-Knew-Where. And the kitchen—
"Well?"
"Er, I, um…" My heart thumped. I felt stranded, as if the penthouse became a frozen lake. I didn't know what answer James wanted, but I knew my answer meant a step onto secure ice or a plummet into gelid waters. So instead of stepping, I swallowed my guilt and threw Delano under the bus. "Del says fate is a taleteller lie, used to compel changelings into their darkling positions if they resisted. To make them feel special as a chosen one."
James blinked. "Delano doesn't believe in fate?" He laughed. "How egotistical. Escaping the Realm pits with the cripple was miraculous. That loser would've never succeeded without divine intervention."
I bristled, but forced my anger down. Okay. The sleazebag believes in fate. Maybe I can use that to my advantage.
James leaned toward me. I leaned back. "My last partner was from the Liath bloodlines, like you." His eyes shifted wistfully to the fireplace mantle, to a photo of a brunette in black lingerie spread on white satin. "She was taken too soon."
I frowned. "Fate isn't always fair, I guess."
"Madmen pretending to be God murdered my Keri, not fate!" James backhanded the tumbler from the table. I gasped as glass shattered against marble. He scowled at me squished in the couch's corner. His ruddy eyes blazed like embers; his chest heaved. The bobcat yawned and stretched, splaying toes and claws. It oozed off the couch, arched its back along James's shins, then padded up the curved staircase, jerking its stubby tail.
James slumped against the cushions and smoothed an eyebrow. "Fate's not set in stone," he said calmly. "It merely forces a path. Sometimes straightforward. Sometimes meandering. I thought I was wrong, but now see my fo
olishness. Fate does want me with a Liath. That's determined. The path meandered to bring you to me, and oh, the bonuses it brought."
My heart raced. I realized magic and words were worthless here. James had a thought virus. A belief. Beliefs clenched tighter than shackles and were impossible to outman. My eyes sought weapons. The cue sticks … too far away. The couch's side table … too awkward. Maybe I can escape to the kitchen, grab a knife and … No. If I killed James, the darklings would kill me. I decided on the vase of purple orchids on the coffee table, their petals like blooming bruises. It might distract him so I could fly out the balcony doors.
"I was born to lead." He leaned closer. My back pressed the couch's armrest. "But convincing the Progeny anyone other than the Fathers can save us, well, I never knew how to achieve that without finding a portal. Then I saw you walk between magics as those zealots spout, and my heart soared."
"It is a funny coincidence." I glanced at the orchids. Two moths preened their antennae on the vase's rim, their wings quivering blooms in the bouquet.
"Coincidence?" James laughed, revealing chipped incisors. "The night darklings establish leadership, you confirmed their prophecy. You awarded me the Progeny's support, and everyone felt you try to merge with me." He thrust himself at me. I snatched the orchids and smashed the vase over his head. Moths launched. James buckled. I bolted for the balcony, my feet on air. Shadows slammed me to the ground. I clambered to my knees, the marble's gray veins at my fingers shaped like a skeleton key. James snatched my wrists, his fingers tighter than handcuffs.
"I don't want you!" I cried as he yanked me up. "I don't even want the darkshine!"
"Then why hold so much darkness?" He inhaled, his eyes rolling. "How does Delano control himself, you cock-tease? You're begging for it!"
I jackknifed my body. He clenched my wrists tighter, forced me to his chest. "There's been a mistake! I didn't—"
"Your desire was no mistake. You craved me." His eyes glimmered lustfully. Shadows slithered up my jeans and shirt. "You crave power? I'll make you a queen."
"I swear I didn't know what I was doing!"
"Fate knew." I flinched when James's cool whisper brushed my ear. "It's okay, Miriam. Just because you were born to replace Lydia doesn't mean you have to."
"Then I won't be a darkling at all! Let me go!"
To my surprise, he released. I stumbled away, hugging myself, glancing over my shoulder to keep him in sight. His similarities to Del are more than appearances, I thought, relieved. He can be reasonable.
I darted for the door. James materialized before me. I jumped with a squeak. "Everyone fears the darkshine," he said. "Where do you think the saying cold feet comes from? But in thirty minutes it'll be over. In forty you'll scream my name through orgasms you believed possible only in romance novels." He backed up several steps, smirking. "You merely need help taking the plunge," he said, then blasted me with a black wave.
Darkness exploded from me, and our magics clashed. His magic pushed harder; I pushed back, every muscle straining. His finger twitched as if tapping a microwave button; his power plowed into me as if a dam broke. I writhed beneath his freezing onslaught, trying to wail without breath. His magic disintegrated. I scrambled to my hands and knees, gasping.
"Come on, changeling." James yanked off his shirt, tossed it to the ground. "Let's wrestle."
I darted for the front door. Shadows raced from the furniture, the walls. They snaked around me, slammed me to the floor. Protect me! I begged the night. Please, protect me from him! Vegas's energies rushed to my beckoning, absorbing James's magic as I scrambled toward the balcony. But as soon as his magic left, more flowed in. James cut me off in a burst of shadow. He tackled me onto the couch, encasing us in swirling ink. I squirmed and writhed and screamed beneath him.
"Yeah! Fight me!" James ground his pelvis against mine, manipulating his magic lightning-fast. Every energy I grabbed slipped away like grease, and two more pinned me harder. "That's all you got?" He chuckled, wedging his knee between my legs.
I burst into tears. "Please, stop!" He smelled like scotch. He smelled like my mother. My magic pushed against his magic. He pushed twice as strong. "Please!"
James pinched my face, forced a sloppy kiss through snot and tears. "Shhh. It's okay. No one likes it at first, but soon you'll love it. You'll love me. Your suffering will end, and nothing else will matter." He popped my fly. His magic scratched and tugged mine, faster, harder. I squirmed beneath him. My magic was too weak. I was too weak. The more magic I pulled the more I—
Come to me. Come to me. Come to me.
Blood drained from my face. Oh, shit. He's forcing me to fight so I'll slip into the darkshine.
I squeezed my eyes shut, made myself still. His magic assaulted my body, ice piercing, shadows groping. I cried and groaned and shivered and bore it, refusing to wield my own.
"Come on!" James clenched my shirt, slapped me against purple suede. "Fight me!"
"No!" I mewled, shaking my head. Frozen needles pierced my flesh. "No! No! No!"
"Little minx," he grumbled. His attack vanished; I gasped and jolted to the retreat. James sighed. "Get up," he said as if scolding a toddler. He grabbed my torso and hair and yanked me to my feet. I dangled in his embrace, my back against his chest, staring into the coffee table's reflecting glass. Seeing his arms around my body made me shudder. Another nightmare developing for my PTSD collection.
James slid his nose up my neck, nipped my earlobe. I despised my body for shooting electricity through my veins, throbbing my groin. Don't fight. Let him do whatever he wants. I cringed as his finger circled my belly button. He'll win if you fight.
"Take the darkshine." His cool whisper curled my toes. "Take me."
"Never."
"Take it!" he screamed, and slammed me face-first into the glass.
I shrieked. Night's magic rushed in—the amplified hard-fuck of Vegas—shielding me as I crashed through the table. Dark magic—my magic—swirled in the shards. Glass tinkled off my hair, my skin hardly scratched. A beating woosh! filled my ears. My heart sputtered to match its pace. Shadows cascaded out of me, my frequency incapable of controlling the Earth force trying to wield itself through my flesh.
Come to me! Come to me! Come to me!
"There you are," James said as if addressing a lost puppy. He yanked me to my feet, his touch electric and titillating, pinging off my shadows, surging between my magic and the night. My breathing was slow and deep, guttural and heavy. The taste of lavender was so potent I thought purple buds would topple from my mouth.
James dragged me onto the glass-fenced balcony, forced me onto my knees and into his lap. "Every girl dreams of the day they're plucked from their miserable existence to become the faerie princess." He grabbed my breast and forced my back against his bare chest; his other hand tugged my forehead to look at the night sky. "That's your home. That's your lover. The night and the darkness are what darklings fall in love with. The partner is merely the manifestation in bodily form. The person is meaningless."
He brushed my hair behind my ear. "You are fated for the darkshine, Miriam. So what lifestyle do you want? A beggarly existence, choked with faeries and filthy trees? Or do you desire luxury and a nightlife worth living centuries for? Will you selfishly think only of a territory's beckoning? Or will you lead your people to salvation? You and your partner will love each other, whoever they are."
Tears slid down my cheeks. "Del already loves me."
James laughed hard, then clucked his tongue. "Aw. No, honey. Who could? Not even your parents loved you, right?"
The world blurred behind tears, the night's summons overpowering my thoughts. He's—Come to me!—manipulating you!—Come to me!—Human parents are—Come to me!—incapable of loving—Come!—their —To!—changeling—Me!—children.
"I hear you were married. Did he love you? Or—" James chuckled as if recapping a favorite joke. "Or were you a beard he suffered for his own purposes?"
My face sc
runched as my husband's gay affair flashed through my imagination. Block him! My mind shoved James away, but the night screaming its desires rushed to steal his place. Come to me! Come to me! Come to me! Its womb was sucking me in, promising a new life, a reverse birth. Come to me! I pushed my consciousness away from its beckoning, and found James poised to attack.
"I understand," he moaned, massaging my breast. His magic scratched my spine, digging … digging … "My human mother favored the switch, my father his fists, but their words were the worst. Hands bruise the body, but insults destroy the soul. End your pain. You deserve happiness. Take it."
Stars hid behind Vegas's light-noise, yet I felt them with my body, my magic, every glow and every location, as if knowing myself, as if becoming them. My head swayed. James's magic dug. The night offered security, a home. Promises poured into me like moonshine, overflowing and dulling my senses.
Come to me! Come to me! Come to me!
Shadows cascaded out of me, shifting from magic to master. I couldn't break it. I couldn't stop it. With a sick, free-fall feeling, I remembered everything Orin insisted when we'd first met. Darklings were baby snatchers. Darklings were seducers. Darklings forced changelings into the night because they believed they were owed. Orin had told me the truth, but because Delano proved himself an exception, I foolishly dismissed all of Orin's warnings as wrong. I finally understood truth and reality were fluid, not concrete. A lot of good it did me now.
Come to me! Come to me! Come to me!
Moths fluttered onto the railing to watch the show, their voices crisp and distinct. "Hello, Miriam. Hello, new Mistress. Welcome to your desert. Welcome to your new home." My mind became fuzzy, intoxicated. My last clear thoughts were how much I hated Delano for not forcing me into the darkshine when he had the chance, and how much I hated myself for enabling anyone to make my decisions for me.
James's magic gored me, rooted and spread like a spider ensnaring and numbing prey. "Gotcha." His magic yanked the night through us, forcing me to take more and more and more. My body bucked. Every cell in me expanded. James squeezed tighter, the hungry spider. My thoughts scrambled. His hand slid beneath my shirt and I cried out. Yes! Yes! His electric touch overloaded my nerves, connecting me to a nighttime world chattering about ozone and riparians and groundwater nitrates. The starless sky swelled like my body, an enormous maw readying to feed.
Dark Ember Page 26