I lay on the blanket, then folded one half over myself, curling into a ball. I lay my cheek on the soft wool, hugging the blanket tightly.
In the shadows of the sycamore grove, my heart was beating hard against my ribs, and the darkness felt as if it were closing in on me. And in the shadows, those sharp, pointed memories—the dragon’s teeth in Marcus’s chest—
Sharp teeth piercing an arm—
I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders, trying to stave off the feeling that I was standing at the edge of a void. If I fell in, my soul would rip apart.
“I can hear your heart pounding.”
My eyes snapped open, and I met Adonis’s curious gaze.
“It’s nothing.” I loosed a slow breath. There was no way in hell I was telling him I was scared of the dark. “I just get a bit nervous being outside at night with demons roaming around.”
“You’ll be fine, Ruby,” he said quietly. “I’m the most dangerous creature for thousands of miles. And I’m on your side. Just relax.”
Somehow, I found that reassuring, and I tuned in to the strangely soothing feel of his magic, which kissed my cheeks like a night breeze.
Now, when I closed my eyes, a vivid memory lit up the hollows of my mind: I lay in a field, my arms spread out to the sides. White puffs of dandelions dappled the tall grasses, and from my spot on the ground, Hazel toddled over to me. She must have been two, and smears of chocolate ice cream streaked her chin and lips. She straddled my tummy, knocking the breath out of me, then reached for a white puff of dandelion by my side. She plucked it from the ground.
“Make a wish!” she commanded, holding to her mouth. Her dark curls framed her chubby cheeks.
“You’re supposed to make the wish,” I said quietly.
“Make a wish!” she shouted again, this time angrier, cheeks reddening.
I’d given in. I always gave in to her.
“I wish that you’d find another place to sit because you’re crushing my stomach.”
She touched the dandelion to her mouth, then blew. The filaments caught in the breeze, and some of the fluff stuck to her chocolate-streaked cheeks.
Slowly, sleep claimed my mind, and with it, the sun-drenched park of my memory receded, replaced by frozen, windswept fields. I dreamt of a barren landscape, and icicles gleaming from tree branches.
As I slept, I was dimly aware of the cold air piercing me to my bones, of shivering and teeth chattering. At least, until a blanket of warmth covered me, and my dreams shifted. A river rushed from a cavern, flowing over a cliff. It smelled of melted mountain water. At the base of the waterfall, banks bloomed with tall grasses and crimson flowers. The scent of myrrh trees coiled around my body.
When I woke in the dazzling, ruddy sunrise, Adonis was nowhere near me. He leaned against a sycamore trunk, watching as the sun streaked the sky with lurid shades of orange.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, then slowly sat up. Adonis had covered me in his black cloak during the night. Maybe it was the smell of myrrh, but I had the strangest feeling that I’d been dreaming of something from his memories.
The full power of his icy eyes fell on me. “You’re awake. We have a whole day’s riding ahead of us. I hope your legs hold up today.”
I didn’t want to take his warm cloak off my body. “How’s your wing?”
“It’s healing quickly. In a few more days, it will be good as new.”
“Good.” I rose slowly, my body groaning, and I handed Adonis his cloak. “Thanks for the extra warmth.”
“The sound of your teeth chattering was driving me insane.”
I scooped up the blanket from the earth, crossed to Thanatos, and tucked it into Adonis’s leather satchel. The horse snorted, steam rising from his enormous nostrils. Then, he nuzzled my face. I smiled. It seemed Thanatos liked me better than Nuckelavee.
“Any chance you could tell me how much farther we have to go?” I asked.
“We’ll be riding until nightfall, assuming we can keep the same pace as yesterday.”
I suppressed a groan. Adonis’s healing magic had been helpful, but it wasn’t a panacea. I leaned over, rubbing my thighs. “Sure. All day riding again. No problem.”
He wrapped his dark cloak around him, and the shadows seemed to thicken in the air surrounding him. “This time, tell me when you’re falling apart instead of randomly screaming uncle, will you?”
Chapter 12
My pride took a serious hit that day. By sunset, Adonis’s magical attempts to soothe my muscles were no longer working, and I’d completely given up.
A cold rain had begun hammering down on us as we traveled, completely drenching my clothes. When the cold had me shivering uncontrollably in my saddle, Adonis had reared Thanatos to a halt. In the icy downpour, he’d pulled the saddle off Thanatos, loaded his satchel onto Nuckelavee, and scooped me onto his horse with him.
Now, I rode wrapped in his powerful arms, with his soothing magic pulsing through my muscles. Drakon soared above us, occasionally igniting the dark air with sharp bursts of fire.
Nuckelavee cantered on beside us, completely compliant, with only the help of Adonis’s orders.
Adonis’s body kept me warm, his feathered wings shielding me from some of the wind and rain. As we rode into the night, I hated myself slightly for the disturbing thrill that surged through my body whenever his arms brushed against my sides, just skimming my breasts…
Don’t fall for his charms, Ruby. He seduced every woman he met. Plus, that whole thing about him being a god of death, born to kill. It made sense that someone like him thought of nature as brutal and cruel—a paradise sown with seeds of destruction. The world around us was a mirror, reflecting our own souls back at us. And Adonis’s was savage.
When we got to his castle, I’d be doing a bit of spying. Mainly, I needed to find out all the things Adonis was unwilling to tell me, starting with—what the hell was a Bringer of Light, and why did he need me?
Exhausted, I leaned back against his muscled chest, and the feel of his warm body against mine sent my pulse racing. I could have sworn I heard a low growl rise from his throat as I did.
Still, the movements of the horse began lulling me into a sense of calm, along with the slow rhythm of his pounding heart at my back. As I leaned into him, I breathed in his soothing smell. My eyes began to drift closed.
After only another minute, his deep voice pierced the silence. “We’re here, Ruby.”
I opened my eyes. There, in the darkness, a castle loomed above us. It towered over the edge of a cliff, its dark stone walls gleaming with rain in the faint light. Shadows claimed the space beyond the cliff, but the sound of waves crashing against rocks filled the air. I ran my tongue over my lips, tasting salt.
“When we get inside, I’ll find a room for you.” His voice was a soft murmur in my ear.
“Where are we, exactly? And what time is it?”
“Scotland, and late,” he said quietly. “Everyone will be asleep.”
“Everyone?”
“You’ll meet them tomorrow.”
Adonis led Thanatos over the rocky terrain toward his castle. Rain slid down my skin, between my breasts. Still, Adonis’s warmth kept me from freezing.
As we moved closer to the gatehouse, I caught sight of the carvings in the walls—the skulls and gargoyles—haunted, human-like faces whose mouths and eyes gaped in horror.
Looks cozy.
My breath caught in my throat at the sight of the castle looming above us, the peaks and towers majestic against the dark night sky. At our approach, the heavy portcullis began to creak open. The gate’s iron teeth speared the air, giving the entrance the appearance of a wild beast. The gatehouse’s narrow windows gaped out onto the rocky landscape like empty eyes.
When the gate had groaned fully open, it revealed a towering, arched hall, lit by the dancing flames of torches. The horses’ hooves echoed off a vaulted ceiling high above us. Vines climbed the walls, blooming with blood-red flowers
.
The hall gave way to the open air—a wide outdoor passageway between towering gothic structures.
As I dismounted from Thanatos, a movement in the shadows caught my eyes. Cloaked in a cowl, a figure glided over the stones. I caught the faintest hint of bone-white skin under his hood. Creepy.
Adonis slid off his horse, and pulled our leather bags off. He handed over the reins, and the cloaked man led the two horses away, their hooves clopping over the stones. Adonis handed me my sodden bag, and I clung to it.
I surveyed the walls around me, each one carved with leering or agonized gargoyle faces. This place was built to intimidate, but I’d already lived through one horseman’s castle. I didn’t scare that easily.
Wordlessly, Adonis stalked to a second arched doorway, expecting me to follow him. We crossed a stony courtyard. Here, a statue loomed over the center of the courtyard—a beautiful man sitting on a pedestal, his wings arched and demonic. He looked down at the ground, and a stone snake coiled up his leg.
Drakon landed on the ground by the statue’s feet. He hissed, and a flame shot from his mouth at the statue’s base.
“Lucifer,” I said quietly.
“Also known as Azazeyl.”
“He’s beautiful.” I paused at the statue, frowning. “Who was he, exactly?”
“He introduced humans to the magical language. He was an archangel, and when he plummeted to earth, he fractured into the seven earthly gods. Then with him, a horde of angels fell, transforming into demons.”
I hugged my sodden coat tighter. “Why do you have a statue of him?”
“The other horsemen think it’s to remind us of our mission—to correct the great original sin. I have no interest in doing that. I admire him.”
“Why?”
“Because he rebelled against those who would control us,” he said with a touch of awe. “He broke the rules.”
Like the snake at the statue’s base, Drakon began scaling the statue, crawling up the stone in a slinking motion. He seemed quite at home there, almost as if the marble god were a long-lost lover.
Apparently done with our conversation, Adonis moved on toward one of the towers that loomed over us. As we neared it, an oak door swung open on its own.
I followed him into a hall—a vast, stony atrium. From here, a wide stairway led up to a second floor. Wordlessly, Adonis led me up the stairs.
Vaulted stone ceilings arched above us like ribs, and my footsteps echoed off a stone floor. Faintly, my fae senses tuned in to the distinct scent of old parchment and leather. Bingo. Somewhere around here, I’d find a library. Maybe the Dark Lord had one or two books about the Bringer of Light on his shelves.
He wasn’t big on filling me in on things like what we were doing, or why we’d come here. Or what, specifically, a Light Bringer was going to do. He didn’t seem to feel the need to tell me how I’d help him rule the heavens, or why he wanted to return there if he had such contempt for the celestial angels in the first place.
I was still a spy, though, wasn’t I? I didn’t need to wait for the information to come to me. I went out and found it.
At the top of a stairwell, Adonis led me down a long mezzanine. To my left, sculptures of twisting and thorny vines snaked over the walls. In the hallway’s guttering candlelight, the sculptures looked half alive.
“Nice place you have here,” I said. “Real homey.”
“It suits me.”
He paused at an oak door, and pushed it open to reveal a cavernous bedroom. Here, pale light shone through steeply peaked windows onto an ornate, tiled floor, inlaid with rubies. A canopied bed stood on a dais, the blankets a deep crimson. Black, thorny vines climbed the stone walls, and poison hemlock grew among them. A dark, arched doorway led to another room—the bathroom, probably. Candles hung in chandeliers high above us, but none of them were lit.
I swallowed hard. When I said before that I was no longer easily intimidated by creepy spaces, I was vastly overestimating myself.
“You’ll be comfortable here,” he said.
“You must be misreading my facial expression.”
“What’s the problem?”
I glanced at the marble fireplace, as gaping and empty as the gargoyles’ eyes. “It’s cold. Do you think we could get a fire going?”
He studied me, his eyes gleaming like stars in the shadowy room. “That’s right,” he said softly. He crossed to me, his hands in his pockets. “I’d nearly forgotten that you were scared of the dark.”
I bristled. “How did you know that?”
“I can feel it.” His eyes gleamed in the dim light. “You said darkness surrounds me. Do I scare you, Ruby?”
I wasn’t sure what to say to him, so I thought I’d just go with the truth. “Yes. You were born to scare, weren’t you?” Born to seduce, too, but let’s not get into that. I turned, meeting his gaze head on. “But you don’t scare me all the time.”
Sometimes, he made me feel calm.
He snapped his fingers, and firelight burst into the empty fireplace. “That will keep you warm.”
With another flick of his wrist, curtains fell over the windows. At least in Adonis’s home I’d have some privacy from the ever-watchful eyes of the sentinels.
“You can hang all your wet clothes by the fire to dry. I don’t have anything for you to sleep in, I’m afraid.”
“I’ll sleep naked.”
His eyes widened, body tensing.
“As long as no one randomly barges in here, it’s fine.”
He paused, eyeing me for a moment before heading for the door. “Get some rest. Tomorrow, you meet my friends.”
Or, I could find out more about all of you while you sleep.
Chapter 13
Pressing my ear against the door, I waited until I heard a nearby door open and close. To my surprise, the sound had been nearby. In this enormous castle, Adonis had put me in a bedroom right next to his.
Keeping an eye on me, I supposed. Still, unlike at Hotemet Castle, no one had explicitly told me to stay in my room, nor had I heard a lock click to trap me in here.
Before crossing into the hallway, I pulled off my boots so I could move more quietly. I slipped off my sodden jacket and laid it out by the fire. Then, I slowly opened the door.
Creeping into the hallway, I peered over the balcony’s ledge to the stony floor below.
I searched for signs of movement around me, any flickers in the shadows.
A complete and eerie silence had fallen over the castle, and I could hear only my own breathing. I sharpened my fae senses, until the sights and lights dazzled me.
As I did, I homed in on a particular smell—one both deeply familiar and enticing. The smell of old books, luring me closer like a siren song. Books were my home, my refuge.
More importantly, a library might have crucial information.
I moved silently over the balcony floor, drawn in by the smell of paper and leather, until I reached an open archway. I’d found the library.
I just didn’t want to walk into the darkness, exactly.
I pulled a torch from its iron bracket on the wall, and its light wavered around me as I stepped into the library.
Moonlight poured through a towering window onto vast walls of old books that reached to the ceiling. I let out a long breath. In Hotemet Castle, Kratos’s book choices had given me a window into his mind. Would I learn anything about Adonis here?
I crossed to one of the walls lined with oak shelves, each one crammed with old tomes. Spindly ladders led up to the higher shelves.
I held the torch in front of a bookshelf, and some of the lettering on the spines glinted in silver and gold. I couldn’t read it, unfortunately. The languages looked ancient and unfamiliar. One of them, I was pretty sure, was the angular markings of the Phoenician alphabet. What secrets were contained in these old books?
I moved on from there, eager to get to the books I could actually understand. It took me a few minutes of wandering around the bookshelves bef
ore I arrived at anything written in English. Bafflingly, they seemed to be books about gardening. Ancient catalogs of trees, herbs, some of flowers.
What did that tell me about Adonis? I could hardly see him tooling around in a garden, crouching down in a pair of rubber boots to do the weeding, but maybe he was into it.
I moved on again, this time to books of poetry—romantic poets like Coleridge and Shelley, Shakespeare, modern poets, ancient epic poems like The Epic of Gilgamesh…
So far, Adonis’s book choices were a complete surprise. I hadn’t expected a death god to be into gardening and poetry, but I supposed I didn’t know much about death gods.
In any case, I was no closer to learning about the Bringer of Light. I didn’t suppose there was a Bringer of Light for Dummies book around here…
Still, I wasn’t in a rush. In this forbidding castle, I actually felt like I belonged here. When I was a kid, I’d spent hours curled up in an alcove in my parents’ old library, reading books about faraway places. I used to like the books that scared me—the ones about ghosts and haunted castles—and then I’d see monsters in the corner of my room when I tried to sleep at night. I’d call to my mom over and over again, asking for protections, for spells and charms. Over time, she started hiding the scary books, but they called to me.
I crossed to a dark corner of the library along the far wall, then slid my torch into an empty sconce. These books were in an altogether different alphabet—one with squat, sharp marks that looked millennia old. As I scanned the shelves, one book caught my eye, the lettering on the spine seeming to gleam brighter than the rest.
I pulled it from the shelf, and cracked open the spine to the faded parchment pages. Gently, I leafed through it. I scanned text, then drawings of angelic destruction—winged beings lighting fires, sending curls of dark magic streaming from their fingertips while piles of skeletons lay beneath them. Each one had his own horse. Halfway through the book, I found a picture—a simple, stylized drawing of a woman standing in a grove of trees, her hair painted the color of straw. Golden light beamed from her head.
Black Ops Fae (A Spy Among the Fallen Book 2) Page 7