Ashes (The Divided Kingdom)

by Sophie H. Morgan

His voice had dropped a degree, low and intimate. And his eyes…

  Ana lifted her chin, fighting the shiver that stroked down her spine with a teasing hand. “You’re still as insufferable and arrogant as you were when I was twelve and had to do what you said.”

  “Pet, you never did what I said.”

  Ana chuckled before she could stop herself. She glared at him in accusation.

  He merely seemed amused. Arranging himself against the doorway, he watched her lift her tank top high enough to see four claw marks arcing upward. “Nasty,” he commented. “But I like the navel charm.”

  “I will cut you.” She grabbed the antibac from the case and unscrewed it, wrinkling her nose as the sour smell of the healing gum hit.

  “Sure you don’t want help?”

  She didn’t deign to answer, scooping some of the antibac up with two fingers and rubbing it into the wounds. Breath hissed out through her teeth. The cold gum quickly heated, sealing the edges of the wound together, forming a transparent, gummy layer to prevent dirt getting in. It would also clean the wound extensively, which meant her stomach would feel as though it were packed with ice—which to Ana was torture—for the next hour or so.

  Dropping the material back to shield her stomach—and the winking ruby navel charm he’d commented on—Ana replaced the lid on the pot of antibac.

  “What do we say?” Cade prompted, the devil in his voice.

  Ana tossed her head, smiling sweetly. “Fuck you?”

  He laughed, a husky chuckle that infused heat into her blood. “I have a bargain for you before we get to that.” He folded his arms. The muscles in them shifted, the sweater he was wearing doing little to disguise the fact that her old bodyguard was ripped. Fires, how she wished he weren’t her enemy. The old love of her life. Who had rejected her.

  Oh, is that all?

  “Let me guess.” Resentment curdled in her stomach. Her fire made a halfhearted attempt to rouse, but soon retreated to curl protectively around her core embers. “I tell you everything I know about Liberty, and you won’t kill me.” She grimaced. “Isn’t that the standard bad-guy threat?”

  “Close. Mine is usually tell me everything you know or I’ll peel your eyeballs. Oh, and…” He motioned to his chest. “Not a bad guy.”

  “You are from where I’m imprisoned.”

  “Point to you. But then, you work with a terrorist.”

  She shrugged. “You say po-tay-to…”

  “What would you call a woman who kills innocent men, burns buildings, and threatens the lives of children?”

  “Okay, first, Liberty never threatens kids.” At his scoffing noise, Ana persisted, scowling at him. “Second, those men were as far from innocent as I am. Third, what’s wrong with burning down labs where other races are experimented on?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t do your research, Shade?” She bared her teeth at him. If he wants to know… “Edward owns dozens of labs where he experiments on different races, attempting to splice human and Other DNA together. He’s harvesting powers for humans, Cade. For their race to become stronger than any other. Can you imagine what’d happen if one insane human gained the powers of Others? Can you say bloodbath?”

  He was frowning, eyes reflecting inner turmoil like a polished mirror. His head cocked in a way that spoke of his jackal being in on the conversation. He’d always been close to his animal. “Do you have proof?”

  “I’ve seen the aftermath. Furies minus wings, demons sans horns.” Ana forced the memories back into the steel lockbox in her mind. “I got involved five years ago, when I stumbled across a siren whose vocal cords had been shredded.” Sirens depended on their hypnotic abilities for a living, many using the power to loan themselves out as mercenaries. That somebody had mutilated one was a BFD. “Her powers were gone. That’s when Liberty came to me. We’ve been fighting against Edward ever since.”

  “If you were telling the truth, the Treaty would know.”

  “Newsflash: the Treaty doesn’t care. They’re concerned with overseas, the Divided States. Trying to settle disputes, assign territories. Why should one little spot of land matter?”

  “It’s their duty as a government?” suggested Cade with enough sarcasm to sink a ship. “If they didn’t care anymore, why set up the Committee to watch in their stead?”

  “They’re counting on the Committee to keep the peace while their eyes are over to the East.” She tapped her finger on her chin. “Now, who would be on that?”

  “The heads of the seven territories.”

  “No shit,” she repeated. “Edward’s pretty much got a free pass to do what he wants, as long as he keeps his nose clean in public. Nobody’s going to cry ‘killer’ on a ’crat.”

  She could see he was struggling with what she was saying. Frankly, what with his antagonism toward Liberty, she was amazed he’d let her speak this far. Their past counted for something, at least.

  “Even so,” he finally said. “Vigilantes aren’t sanctioned. Edan’s Champion of the Peace and the Prosecution squad will need informing—if not them, then definitely the Treaty. Liberty needs to be stopped, and without evidence I can’t help you.”

  Ana shook her head at him, unsurprised. “Always wanting proof. You haven’t changed, Cade.”

  “You can’t tell me one of the most benevolent humanitarians in the Kingdom is experimenting on Other races without proof.” He thrust a hand through that long hair, tugging on the ends. His skin was stretched taut over his cheekbones. “I’ve seen dozens of examples of Edward’s good nature. Just because you tell me something doesn’t make it true. I know the man; I like him.”

  “Then you’re a fool.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Alana…”

  She held her hands up, adopting a bland expression. “If you want to be a sheep, that’s fine. But you get in the way; don’t be surprised when Liberty comes a-knocking.”

  Blood, thick and hot and sweet as sin, flowed into Trick’s mouth as he drew on his victim’s vein. Rather than revel in the intimacy of the jugular, he preferred the wrist, and he clasped his victim’s arm as he sucked strongly on the twin puncture wounds he’d made.

  When he had finished, the man stumbled away at Trick’s direction. Trick leaned against the stained concrete and let his head fall back. Light would be dawning soon and he needed to go to his rest, but still he remained. The scents of the Maze assaulted him, trash and urine and rot. Accustomed, he ignored it, seeking the scent of heat and smoke. But the peppery smell he associated with Ana remained lost.

  Another night gone and still no trace.

  A snarl freed itself from his chest. He spun with vampire speed and jabbed at the wall. Concrete smashed in as if hit with a hover-truck, chips raining down to bounce on the cracked ground. His own snarl, multiplied by the thousands of crevices that built the Maze, answered.

  Concrete scraped Trick’s hand as he braced one against the fracture. Damn the merc, where had Shade taken her?

  One thought saved him from losing it and echoing Faer’s mindless violence—Shade had once been Ana’s bodyguard. Surely some protective instincts lingered to help shield her from the worst of the assassin’s infamous brutalities. He might be the justice assassin, but at the end of the night, he was an assassin.

  Faer needed to get a bead on Maia’s location before coin for the kill overcame old affection.

  The swish of a footstep had Trick straightening, his head cocked. His features fell into orderly lines, smoothing away the blind terror he despised. He was completely composed when Mikhel appeared out of the low-hanging gloom blanketing the alley.

  For a human, the man moved with a silent grace almost equal to a vampire’s, and similarly, something savage lurked beneath the arrogant exterior. It was a quality Trick appreciated, along with Mikhel’s spare don’t-ask-don’t-tell manner.
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br />   Besides that, Mikhel’s were the best eyes and ears in the Maze—nobody detected him, unless their heart already bore his knife.

  “Mikhel.” Trick gave a clipped nod, struggling against animal instincts to demand why the human had come. “You’ve found something?”

  Mikhel studied him out of eyes that were an evocative husky-blue. His hands were in his coat pockets, casual, but Trick would wager he had several weapons. The man knew no favorite. He employed swords, daggers, flash-guns. He even went the bow and arrow route, though nobody could match Ana’s skill.

  “The gutters are alive with gossip.” Mikhel’s voice was as deep as the mystery he cloaked himself with. Lean shoulders shrugged. “Apparently Shade can kill five assassins while making love to a siren.” An impression of dry humor, though naturally no smile. “No news of Ana’s whereabouts.”

  A tattoo of impatience drummed below Trick’s eye. “Remind me why I pay you?”

  “I’m the best.”

  “Prove it.”

  “I’m getting there.”

  One corner of Trick’s mouth hooked in a sneer. “I suggest, if you don’t want to be my dessert, you start spilling intel before I start spilling other things.”

  Undaunted, another shrug rippled through Mikhel’s six-foot frame. “Temper, Trick? Unlike you.” He continued before Trick could reply. “One of my palace contacts came through. Edward is organizing another lab, recruiting hungry new scientists with the promise of a happier future for humans.”

  Trick shook his head, hair escaping his queue. “I appreciate the information, but—”

  “There’s a buzz over this new lab because the formula has turned in a different direction. Exciting developments promised.”

  “Okay.” Deciding to humor Mikhel, Trick nodded. The dark coat he wore, a twin to Mikhel’s, rippled around his thighs as he thrust his hands into pockets. He wasn’t worried about being attacked. “What kind of direction?”

  “Every time they introduce Other DNA to human cells, the human withers. Dies. Edward has been searching for a way to circumvent this. Apparently he’s found it.”

  “What does this have to do with…?” Horror splashed across Trick’s senses as he connected the two. “Ana.”

  Phoenixes could be resurrected from death. It was tricky, but not impossible, a quirk of their genes, and how remained one of their most closely guarded secrets.

  Edward had obviously decided that if phoenix genes could resurrect them, maybe they could do the same for human cells.

  The fresh blood he’d taken beat wildly within his veins. “He’s using phoenix DNA.”

  “Mmm.” Mikhel couldn’t have sounded less interested as he tipped his head back to the sky. Moonlight, dim and straggling, smoothed over what would have been handsome features, were it not for the puckered scar that slashed his right cheek. “He’d have some trouble getting his hands on one. They don’t come this far south—usually. Snobs, one and all, they tend to stick to their own kind.” Mikhel leveled a look droll enough to bite on Trick. “Usually,” he repeated.

  Trick ignored him. If phoenix DNA was to work, it would have to be the strongest surviving. And if what Trick suspected about Ana was true, her DNA could hold the key to Edward’s highest hopes.

  If Shade handed her over, they were doomed.

  Trick’s gaze cut to Mikhel. “Has he captured any phoenixes yet?”

  “Unknown. Gossip says a small fire broke out at his newest lab about a month or so ago. Hushed up as an electrical fault.”

  Then Edward could be on his way to perfecting his formula. Didn’t matter that phoenixes usually stayed to their own territory. Ana didn’t. “Where is his new lab?”

  “A block away from the new hospital he’s opened in the Outer Boundary, on the corner of Pythe Street. A guard stands sentry out front, but only three inside at the moment. Edward hoping not to draw attention.”

  Trick didn’t question how the human had learned so much; the merchant dealt in information like it was diamonds. “We’ll shut that down too.”

  “While you search for Ana?”

  Her name stabbed into Trick like a blade he hadn’t foreseen. “If Edward is using phoenix DNA, rescue is pivotal.” As if retrieving her from Shade came down to only what she was worth in terms of the rebellion.

  Mikhel pursed his lips, rocked back on his heels. “Look for rooms that’ve been taken out within the past week. Shade will need a base, and the crystal palace is too obvious.” A dry smile. “Edward wants to keep his shining halo away from the dirt he shovels.”

  “As long as I live, I remain surprised Edward has fooled so many. It’s like they want to be taken in.”

  “Credit where credit’s due, he genuinely believes in helping his race. People respond to that. It’s hard not to be swept up in his enthusiasm, in the idea of bettering yourself and all you care for. How else would all the great dictators in the past have reached their positions if people didn’t want to be shepherded?”

  Surprise mingled with wariness as Trick narrowed his eyes. “You sound almost tempted to join the ranks of the foolish, Mikhel.”

  Mikhel’s gaze was steady. “Do I look like a sheep?”

  Trick’s fist unclenched. It was true. As far as Mikhel went, he could be trusted to march to his own beat. As long as Trick had known him, he always had. “It’s good work,” he said instead. “I’ll have your payment delivered per the usual arrangement.”

  Mikhel inclined his head in thanks, the slight breeze ruffling dark blond hair cut to his shoulders. As Trick made to leave, Mikhel raised his voice. “Trick?”

  Trick lifted an eyebrow in inquiry.

  Now he smiled. “Kill the bastard.”

  “Count on it.”

  As a new day was ushered in by the breaking dawn, Cade considered Edward’s crystal palace from the leafy guard of a one-hundred-year-old oak. Propping his foot against one of the branches, he popped the gum he chewed and watched the fledgling light strike the crystal surface. It spread until the entire building shone.

  Cade had to admit it was a clever idea, maximizing the rays that managed to penetrate the dense cloud layer. Not to mention the political advantage of owning a palace shaped like a diamond.

  He’d been here before, whenever his Treaty work brought him into the region. He’d admired the sheer decadence of the furnishings, the richness of the food, the lavish design of the twelve-acre gardens, ranging from a typical tea garden to an exotic waterfall enclosure. He might have personally preferred less extravagant surroundings, but it didn’t change the fact that the palace was visually stunning—and considered impregnable.

  He grinned as he popped his chewing gum again, cocking his head. Drawing air deep into his lungs, Cade scented cerberus and demon. Edward’s personal outer guard, hellhounds trained to flame demon hands. An unusual setup, but thanks to Edward attempting to save the flame demon general in one of the final battles of the Kingdom Wars, the ranks had vowed to follow him for his act of bravery.

  They were strong, well trained, loyal, and smelled like ash.

  His jackal snarled, baring teeth, butting its head against Cade’s skin.

  A sigh flowed out of him as he scanned the diagonal walls of crystal. He needed a private word with the high ruler, and he didn’t want his arrival announced. The things Alana had told him… Experimenting on the races. Innocents tortured.

  Edward? The man who opened hospitals, founded charities, fucking kissed babies’ heads?

  The battle tugged at him, veering first toward the man he’d known personally for eight years, and then the woman who’d never completely left his heart.

  He cursed under his breath. He didn’t know which was the truth, but he’d find out. His duty.

  It brought him to the high gates that surrounded the crystal palace, on the opposite end of the city from where he’d stashed Alan
a. He already missed her scent, that honey-and-blackberries perfume hooked inside of him, twisting him, until all he wanted to do was howl and sink into her.

  Another blue word. He had to focus.

  Shoving Alana to the rear of his mind, Cade slipped out of the tree and landed soundlessly on the balls of his feet on the spongy grass. Careful, he withdrew a tissue, sliding the chewed gum into it and into a pocket. Then he stripped. Although nudity was common in shifter society, many shifters turned without bothering to remove their clothes. However, Cade had grown up with few possessions, and as a result liked to save the things he had. He’d return for the clothes after his talk with Edward.

  Releasing the bonds that held his animal, he threw his head back in a silent howl as the fury of power exploded through muscle and bone. A wave of sparks burst through his body as it shrank, forming the jackal shape that was the other side of his spirit.

  The instant his paws were formed, Cade took off at an easy lope, covering the bright green and obviously fake grass that surrounded the walls. Although jackals were smaller than their wolf cousins, they were sleeker and able to run faster. And their ability to sneak in places undetected was unparalleled.

  The strands of grass beneath his claws fed the spirit of the animal, soothing both as he pushed to a faster speed. Being the jackal appeased something raw inside of him, allowed him to simply be. No worries about whether he was good enough; the jackal saw things in black and white. Something the human side was never capable of. Endless shades of gray choked Cade until he wished he’d never joined the Blades.

  He halted five feet away from where a flame demon and his cerberus stood sentry at the west gate. Black iron railings stretched to the sky, one fifteen-foot-tall wing wheeled back to admit visitors. That was where the demon stood guard, blocking the available space with its bulky body shielded by copper armor.

  The cerberus lifted its head, snarling as it caught Cade’s scent. The flame demon tugged at its crude silver chain, snapping at it to shut up. Red eyes flicked this way and that as the demon assessed the environment.

  In two minutes, the guard would change. They’d swap shit about whichever woman they’d nailed, or war stories from “the good old days” when they’d served under the family of four that ruled the demon stronghold in the Outer Isles.