Before the Storm

by Claire Ashgrove

  He turned then, his stare locking on the fall of my arm as I lowered it to my lap. I glanced down and blinked twice. I was back! All of me. Solid as I’d ever been. His gaze lifted to mine, the evident surprise there softening.

  I brushed my fingertips across his cheek and gazed into those soulful blue eyes. The odd tenderness reflected there unlocked everything I wanted to say. Words spilled free, unhindered. “You’re the only person who’s ever cared enough. And you do it all the time, while I push you back and away. I’m sorry I haven’t trusted you entirely. Sorry that I thought you’d betray me the minute I was out of earshot. That’s why I wanted to be there—I expected you to laugh at me and insult me like Beth did. I doubted you. I don’t deserve praise like—”

  He gently set two fingertips against my lips, turning my prattle into a gush of unintelligible sounds. I gave up trying and simply looked into his eyes.

  When I remained silent, Kale whispered, “I meant every word. I believe in you, Halle. I’ll earn your full trust if I have to spend a decade trying.”

  “But…why?” My words came out muffled. Immediately after the question slipped free, I grimaced. Could I sound any more stupid?

  Kale slipped his hand to the nape of my neck. “Because somewhere along the line you became more than just a tool to benefit the camarilla. More than a duty I had to finish. I care about you, and your trust means everything.”

  Oh no—sucker punch. My insides melted, and my heart flipped all the way over. “You have it,” I blurted quietly. “All of it.”

  Slowly, his gaze traversed my face. Emotion radiated in his somber expression—what it was, I dared not name for fear I’d call it all wrong. He lowered his head, and his mouth tenderly captured mine.

  His kiss was languorous, as if nothing else mattered, nothing else could interfere. So thorough my stomach fluttered and my very toes began to tingle with the yearning to somehow become part of what he was, part of him. Like maybe if I could get close enough, I could absorb the faith he had in me. That I deserved it.

  He pulled away and rested his forehead against mine. “You are beautiful and courageous, and I’d follow you to the end of the world.” He lifted a hand, captured a fly-away lock of my hair, and rubbed it between thumb and index finger. “Not because your fist is wrapped around my heart, but because I’ve never met someone more capable of leading.”

  Shit. I was toast. I sat before him, stripped to the bone, more raw and exposed than I’d ever been. I didn’t know what to say, couldn’t have spoken if I did—my throat felt like a narrow straw.

  As if he understood the overwhelming vulnerability engulfing me, he slipped his arm about my shoulder, turned toward the horizon once more, and tucked me against his side. With his free hand, he pointed to the west. “See that distant cliff?”

  I nodded.

  “Those are the old strip mines. The Yaksini are there. That’s where—”

  “My mother is.”

  “I was going to say your uncle.”

  “But it’s true, isn’t it? She’s there.”

  “Yes.” His chest expanded as he inhaled deeply. “What’s left of her.”

  I turned to him once again. “I have to go there, Kale.”

  Immediately, he stiffened. “You’re not ready.”

  “I may never be ready.” I pulled out of his embrace, annoyed. “I can’t wait forever. She’s there. She’s my mother. If it were yours, you’d go.”

  The muscle along the side of his jaw ticked. Once. Then he pushed to his feet and faced the north, presenting me with his back. “My mother is there, and she can rot there.”

  His vehemence so startled me, I forgot what sparked my irritation. “What?”

  He pushed a hand through his hair and glanced over his shoulder. “She’s power hungry, and your uncle was a better prospect than Gerard. She arranged for my abduction about five years ago and gave me over to your uncle’s purposes. I was a soul offering, another vessel to feed his dark power.”

  I stared, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, unable to comprehend what I was hearing.

  “He took me. And he took her. Only not as the bride she’d hoped to become. Gerard rescued me, which caused the drain on his own power and led to him marrying Beth.”

  Oh my God. I’d never stopped to consider what had happened to his mother, just assumed… I don’t know what I’d assumed. But hearing she would sacrifice her own child certainly hadn’t ever entered my head. “I’m…sorry, Kale.”

  “Don’t be. If I’d been more alert, I’d have caught onto the band of Noita warriors she paid to trap me and my training party that day. Four men died. Good men. Men I should have been able to save. But things had been relatively quiet with the Yaksini, and I wasn’t paying attention.”

  I rose to my feet, moved to his side, and ran my hand down the length of his spine. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Oh, it was. As much as it was hers.” He shrugged off my touch. “But it can’t be undone. Nevertheless, she will waste away to nothing in the mines. A deserved fate.”

  Silence strung out between us as I chewed on the details of his past and tried to find something to say. When nothing suitable formed and the quiet became unbearable, I asked the only thing that kept running through my mind.

  “Who are the Noita?”

  Kale dismissed the question with a shake of his head, but that same anger burned in his gaze, fierce and coldly dangerous. “They have their own agenda. No one really knows where they came from. Those who are smart enough keep a wide berth, because you never know what purpose they’re serving. You can almost guarantee it isn’t what they tell you.”

  “I see. And…there’s many of them?”

  His gaze narrowed further and lifted to the surrounding trees. “There’s one lurking around these woods. Marcus Wintergrave.” He spat the name out like a bad poison. “We’ve sent out a few parties to drag him in for questioning, but he’s always one step ahead of my men.”

  Suddenly nervous, I glanced around the woods. “Here? Like nearby?”

  “I don’t think he’d come that close to the camarilla’s compound. Just in our territory. We know he’s here. So far, he’s not posed a threat. Doubtful he’s that stupid. Not after—” Kale stopped, clenched a fist, then methodically relaxed his fingers. “Guaranteed, he wants something.”

  “So he’s not…dangerous?”

  “The Noita are always dangerous.” Kale let out a bitter laugh then captured my hand. “Enough about those faithless fools. I can think of better ways to spend the evening.” He turned me into his arms and held me close, his lips grazing the shell of my ear.

  A pleasant chill raced down my spine.

  “What do you say we go tuck that duck of yours in for the night? Then tuck ourselves in?” Slowly, he captured my earlobe between his lips.

  “Mm.” I wound my arms around his neck. “I think that sounds perfect.”

  Twenty-one

  There was something different about making love to Kale that night. Something more profoundly intense than before. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was, but in a strange way, it was as if both of us sensed something building around us and the more we touched, the deeper we melded; the more we believed we could hold it at bay.

  I woke in the middle of the night, terrified. My heart pounded frantically, and my eyes snapped open like something had exploded near my ear. I bolted upright, gasping for air. But try as I might, I couldn’t recall what dream yanked me out of sleep. One thing was certain—I wouldn’t be going back to dreams anytime soon.

  Careful to not disturb Kale, I crawled out of bed and pulled his T-shirt over my head. After wriggling into my undies, I headed for the door. Tufty let out a muffled quack and hopped off the end of my bed. He followed as I traipsed through the darkness to the front room.

  Once more, I sought comfort from the horde of books. The windwalker’s story remained in Kale’s room, a subject I hadn’t been brave en
ough to broach, so I couldn’t turn to it for the answers I so desperately wanted. But a different thought had been plaguing me since our conversation about my mother. She was alive, but what had happened to her exactly? Why did everyone keep saying she couldn’t be saved?

  I thumbed through the titles, searching for something on the history of the Tolvenar, or the Yaksini, or even the Noita Kale mentioned. I should have known better—my luck wouldn’t be so good. Nothing remotely close to what I wanted stood on the shelf, or in the pile next to it, or in the stack on the coffee table. My only alternative was magic, once again.

  Preoccupied, I robotically opened one and set it in my lap, not bothering to inspect the title.

  Kale had been so vague about his mother, only saying she’d been taken and Gerard rescued him. He mentioned soul offering—had my father done the same with my mother? I’d heard the disgust and resentment in Kale’s voice when he spoke about his mother. Not once had anything run remotely similar when he discussed mine. If she’d given herself to my father willingly, surely Kale would have spoken the same about her.

  Which could only mean, as he’d said, she hadn’t gone willingly.

  Which meant my father destroyed her.

  Which made his death even more justifiable…and satisfying. She’d been good and decent, kind and gentle. The kind of mom all girls hope to have. If she’d lived, no doubt by now we’d have been the best of friends. Yet he had taken her from me. Taken her from Faye. Denied us both the one relationship we likely needed most.

  And now my uncle was in charge of the Yaksini. Leader. Ruler. Commander of all. No wonder he had such a twisted way of demanding Faye’s obedience. Was my aunt part of his vile ways as well?

  No. She couldn’t be. If she were, someone would have been hunting me long before Kale. Maybe that’s why she suggested I go with the supposition I’d died in the tornado.

  But why did she stay?

  I sighed and dropped a hand to Tufty’s back. He sat tucked against my thigh, his beak resting just above my knee. He chirred as he was prone to doing when he dozed. Sometimes he made everything seem so simple. His only cares were: eat, swim, sleep. Then repeat.

  And snuggle. The little duckling loved to snuggle.

  I had to admit, I’d become pretty fond of it too. Both with my feathered friend and the pain-in-the-ass sleeping in my bedroom.

  Ugh. I was turning all wishy-washy girlie. Blech. Pretty soon I’d be fantasizing about rings and weddings and families…and then I’d know the world had gone to hell.

  Though I couldn’t deny the idea of long-term with Kale sounded pretty fantastic. He had a way of infuriating me by refusing to help when I wanted assistance. But at the same time, he forced me to believe in myself. And that had a calming effect somehow.

  “What are you reading?” His voice echoed from the entry to the hall, quiet and filled with gravel from sleep.

  “Um.” I glanced down at the book and scanned the spell I had absently opened to. My eyes widened as I read the title: Animal Binding. I blinked. No…after all this time?

  Kale rounded the arm of the sofa, and I dog-eared the page. Hastily, I answered, “I wasn’t reading, really. Thinking more like it. I couldn’t sleep.”

  He dropped heavily onto the edge of the couch. “Me neither. Tossed and turned and kept waking up. Discovered you’d left.”

  I set the book aside, hoping the action came off casual and didn’t betray the careful way I watched where I put it. I’d explore that later, when it was just Tufty and me. “Bad dreams?”

  “Think so. Can’t remember them, though.” Kale reclined against the back of the couch and stretched his muscular legs. Dressed in only his boxers, he presented a tantalizing picture.

  I could look at that man for hours, I swear.

  As the thought registered, my cheeks heated.

  Kale chuckled. “Why the blush?”

  I refused to do as instinct suggested and look away. Instead, I managed an awkward smile. “I like looking at you.”

  “Huh. And to think I was a jerk not so long ago.” He gave me a wry smirk.

  I leaned over, grabbed the throw pillow off the floor, and pitched it at him. It thumped into his abdomen. “You still are.”

  He let out a deep chuckle. “At least you like me more, though.” He patted the cushion beside him.

  With a nudge, I eased Tufty aside and joined Kale on the couch, leaning into his side, breathing in the cologne that made me all warm and fuzzy inside. Tempted beyond the limits of my will power, I flattened a palm over his corded abdomen and ran it in lazy circles. “I’ll give you that one.”

  He dropped an arm to my shoulder and tucked me closer. We sat that way for several minutes, both of us merely savoring the nearness of the other. But try as I might, I couldn’t convince my mind to relax along with my body. The questions kept hounding me—what had happened to my mother, why couldn’t she be saved, what was she now? Why did the camarilla need me when they had him? And if they mistrusted me so much, why had they hoped he’d convince me to stay?

  “Kale?” I asked, hesitantly.

  “Yeah, princess?”

  “I need to know more.”

  “About?”

  “Everything.” Shrugging off the protective clasp of his arm, I sat up straight and swiveled to face him. “Beth’s made it clear there are several people who don’t trust my heritage. If that’s the case, why did the camarilla send you after me?”

  He scrunched his forehead into a frown. “I already told you—they want you to defeat your uncle because you’re the only one who can.”

  “No. That’s not true. You are as strong, if not stronger than me.”

  He chuckled again and smoothed a hand down my bent leg. “Only for the time being. I can’t command the wind like you, Halle.”

  Hm. Maybe that’s really all there was to it. Still, the simplicity didn’t feel right. I huffed a sigh. “They invited someone half of the camarilla believes will turn against them, like my mother in their eyes, to reside with them. It doesn’t fit, Kale.”

  His brief amusement faded, replaced by a distant, somber light in his eyes. “It’s war. When you’re losing, you become a bit desperate, I suppose.”

  Now that made infinite amounts of sense. I’d been so desperate to eliminate my uncle that I’d put myself directly in his path just to invoke the degree of feeling necessary to repeat what I’d done to my father.

  “Why are you losing?”

  Another frown flitted across his brow before quickly smoothing away. He gazed out the window, evidently searching his thoughts. After a moment, he answered, “Your uncle isn’t a sorcerer. He is vested in the undead. His power comes from the lives he’s taken.”

  “Necromancy?” I asked in disbelief. “That’s for… games and such.”

  “It’s not. It’s real.”

  By now, that shouldn’t surprise me. Still, I experienced the reflexive urge to laugh. I choked it down before it could escape. “Explain,” I managed through my amusement.

  Kale peered at me quizzically. “Do you know what an archlich is?”

  “Um. Make that a no.”

  “Do you know what a lich is?”

  “Uh…” I was beginning to feel stupid, which was entirely nonsensical. I shouldn’t have any idea what he was talking about given my isolation from these things. “I’ll have to go with no, there again.”

  His expression fringed with a hint of exasperation. “Have you read Tolkien?”

  “Duh. Have you seen the movies?” I thumped him in the belly with the back of my hand. “Stop talking to me like I’m dumb.”

  He let out a grunt then sat up straighter. “Okay, the ring wraiths—that’s a close example. And don’t get caught up in aesthetics. There’s no such thing that floats off the ground, runs around in shadowy robes, and screeches like some sort of owl on crack.”

  No, but there were hooded riders who rode black horses and whistled. A c
hill crept down my back as the windwalker’s words came back to me.

  “Basically a lich isn’t living, although it’s perfectly alive. It’s a slave that looks just like you, just like me—like any normal human being. Like your father did and your uncle does.”

  I gave Kale a sideways glance.

  “They serve. It could be like our warriors here, or our healers, or like the elemental summoner you are. The difference being, those in the camarilla choose to fight, heal, summon, or what have you. A lich is ordered and cannot disobey.”

  “What happens if they do?”

  Kale emphatically shook his head. “It’s impossible. Their soul is controlled by the archlich. And in turn, those collective souls grant him power. The more souls controlled, the more strength amassed. The more strength amassed, the more souls needed to feed his thirst for total power.”

  Oh. I was beginning to catch on. Entirely more than I suspected I wanted to. “And that’s what happened to my mother. And yours.”

  Kale nodded slowly. “Yes…and no.”

  “No?” I didn’t want to know, I really didn’t. Still, I couldn’t silence the question.

  “My mother is a harvester.”

  I grimaced in disgust. No need to ask for clarification there.

  “Because of her incredible talent, yours is part of his personal guard. She will do anything, anything to protect him.”

  A sick feeling possessed me. My sweet, gentle mother turned into some vile servant. What had she ever done to deserve that fate? If I could have killed my father a second time, I would have bolted from my room and hunted him down all over again. He’d destroyed her—utterly.

  Struck with a new sense of urgency, I pushed to the edge of the couch, intending to stand. “I have to get her out of there.”

  Kale caught my wrist, gently tugged me back. “You can’t save her. I don’t know what to say to make you believe this.”

  I jerked away. “All this time you’ve been telling me what I can do, what I’m capable of. That I’m stronger than everyone else. That I can defeat my uncle, for God’s sake!” As my voice rose, Tufty jerked awake. I stepped around him, possessed by the need to move, and paced in front of the bookshelf. “How do you know I can’t save her, Kale? What if I can?”