On Wicked Ground (Solsti Prophecy Book 4)

by Kay, Sharon

  How am I here? How did I survive?

  Tomorrow, she would find out with Whysper. Tonight, she needed to think about something else.

  Someone else.

  Leaving most of the fire bulbs off, she crossed the room to the rumpled king size bed and sat down. A chocolate brown duvet was haphazardly tumbled across white sheets. A wrinkled gray T-shirt lay wadded up on one pillow. Alina grabbed it and pressed the cotton to her face, breathing in the scent of soap and clean sweat. I’m definitely sleeping in this.

  Looking up, she gazed at a huge painting on the wall above the bed. It depicted a serene lakeside, beaches, trees thick with foliage, stone patios, bright flowers, and boats in the water. She wondered where it was, having never been anywhere that looked so tranquil.

  In contrast to the bright painting the walls were dark, as were the curtains at one large paned window. Beyond, Torth’s moons hung in beautiful, full symmetry. They were bright enough to allow some light into the room, so she extinguished the fire bulbs. Better to not let anyone think she was in here.

  Eyes fully adjusted to the low light, she walked around the room. His dresser had a mirror above it, and a ceramic bowl full of different amulets. She eyed them but didn’t touch, not knowing what they could do. Though she’d guess they were probably for transportation.

  She crossed to his closet and opened the doors, realized it was a walk-in and was met with a row of black tactical pants and black T-shirts. She pushed farther in, amused and wondering if he had anything else, and sucked in a breath as she reached the last hanging item.

  A tuxedo. Where in the world would he wear that? Black satin lapels and soft wool felt like magic under her fingertips. A crisp white shirt hung behind it. A vision of Caine wearing it hit her hard. He’d look so handsome…

  She shook her head, turning to leave the closet, and bumped her hip against something hard. Her hand reflexively flew out to steady herself and she looked down to see a black iron safe. The dial with silver numbers on the front made her smile. I could open that. But that’s not why she was there.

  Utterly comfortable in his space, she walked back out and plopped onto the bed, settling herself sideways. She sighed and pressed her back into the bedding as if she could absorb Caine’s essence from it. Blissful quiet met her ears, and she lost herself in the peaceful waters of the gorgeous painting.

  Closing her eyes, she imagined she was in that tranquil place in the picture. With Caine. She clutched the cotton T-shirt again and sighed, hoping he was safe on his assignment. Memories drifted back from their talk on the balcony last night.

  He’d lost his whole family.

  She’d just found hers.

  The irony saddened her, and at the same time made her wish like hell she could fix it or help him somehow. She’d seen the flicker of hurt before his eyes hardened, explaining what had happened. How had he phrased it? Sometimes forgetting isn’t an option.

  He could have left her in the rubble of Hell’s Gate, but he hadn’t. Honorable, lethal, scarred, and sincere. There were so many facets to this formidable male and she couldn’t wait to explore every one.

  She allowed herself a few more moments of luxuriating in Caine’s bed, then got up and opened the door a millimeter, listening for footsteps. Silence.

  Engaging the lock, she slipped out and clicked the door shut behind her. She wrapped herself in shadows, not wanting to call attention to being in the single warriors’ quarters. With rapid light steps, she walked to the end of the hall and stopped just before the circular area containing the elevators.

  Seeing no one else, she dropped the shadows.

  Ding!

  The elevator doors opened and a tall blond Watcher emerged. She recognized him as one of the Watchers who’d come from the house with her sisters. He radiated strength and power, and with his long blond hair, he looked like a modern Viking.

  He smiled when he saw her. “Hi, Alina.”

  “Hi…” Damn it, she’d forgotten his name. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember your name.”

  “Brenin. And no worries. You met a lot of people lately, I’m guessing.” He looked behind her. “Are you looking for your sisters?”

  “Um, no…” Shit, how should she spin this? The excuse she’d given Ana popped into her head. “I was leaving a note for Caine.”

  He nodded and his expression sobered. “Actually, I’m glad I ran into you. Something came up, back in Halice.”

  Her heart rate tripled at his serious tone. “What?” she whispered.

  “We got a call from a contact in the city. Apparently, the owner of the hotel where you and your dad were staying was killed earlier tonight.”

  “Killed?” Her lungs squeezed at the thought of the male elf who ran the place. He hadn’t been friendly, or unfriendly, just happy to have paying customers.

  “I’m sorry to put it so bluntly but there’s no other way to say it.” He shoved his long hair away from his face. “We have a couple leads and we’re keeping an eye on things. We’ll go over it more in a meeting coming up. But I just wanted to let you know.”

  “Oh my god,” she said softly. All tranquility she’d gained in Caine’s room disappeared. Sebastian had said someone would come after them. She folded her arms tightly across her chest as worry hit her hard. First her sisters were targeted, now the hotel owner had gotten fatally caught up in her mess. Maybe.

  “It’s safer that you and your dad are here.” Brenin rested his hands on his hips.

  “Yeah.” She nodded.

  “How good are you with weapons? I know you’re a Solsti, but knowing how to use a blade can’t hurt.”

  “I know a few moves.” She had to, in her line of work. Either to incapacitate a guard, or to fend off creepy males.

  “But you weren’t formally trained.”

  She shook her head. “Only in fighting dirty.”

  He chuckled. “There’s a place for that. Especially for tiny females.” He tilted his head. “I found a dagger in the weapons room here. It’s small, like it was made for a fae. I bet it would be just right for you.”

  “Really? That would be great.” She smiled at his thoughtfulness. “Well, I need to get to my room. I’m beat.”

  “You know where to go? This place is like a maze.”

  I know how to get from my room to Caine’s. “Yep, got it.”

  “Okay, see you tomorrow.” With a wave, Brenin walked down the hall she had just left.

  Alina hurried to her room, thankful Brenin hadn’t asked her about the T-shirt she still clutched in her hands. At least she’d folded it up, making it hard to see exactly what it was. She unlocked her door and pushed it open, then yanked off her clothes and pulled Caine’s T-shirt over her head. It fell almost to her knees.

  Tugging the neckline up, she inhaled the scent that was soap and woods and uniquely Caine. She dropped into her bed and tried to focus only on her demon.

  The soft cotton of his shirt next to her skin helped but still, worry, fear, and exhaustion pressed in on her. For all the wonder of meeting her sisters, she felt like she had just dipped her toe into an inky, terrifying swamp. Murder and a planned attack, unknown evil, a potential biological weapon, and a target on her head. It was too much and yet, a tiny spark of defiance glowed in her heart. Fate had somehow granted her another chance to fulfill her purpose. Whatever happened, she vowed to take it on with everything she had.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ALINA FOUGHT TO CONTROL HER nerves as she sat in the center of a plush red couch, with Ashina on her right and Sebastian in a chair next to the healer. The quiet room was filled with cozy couches and armchairs. Every seat had a blanket or a pillow, or both, tossed on it. The walls were covered with dark brown velvet. That, plus the hand knotted Aubusson rugs, further muffled any noise.

  From the low ceiling hung an old-fashioned looking lighting fixture, with delicate iron curls and a huge shade of opaque glass concealing a dim fire bulb. The whole effect was soft and peaceful and Alina’s muscle
s wanted to relax, but her brain was wired.

  Whysper bustled about, putting sage and other herbs in bowls on low corner tables. True to her name, her voice was soft, yet held a commanding edge that Alina wouldn’t want to cross. The petite old witch’s skin was brown and wrinkled. Long wavy gray hair hung down her back, and she wore a green tunic over loose gray pants. “Almost ready.” She smiled at Alina with dark brown eyes that shone with intelligence and perception.

  Alina nodded and took a deep breath. Whysper would join her on the couch when she finished her preparations.

  The old witch exchanged a few words with her apprentice Melixa, the last occupant of the room. Alina looked around, glad to have a small group. She liked her sisters, but what she was about to do held too many unknowns for her to go through it in front of everyone. Just her hota, her dad, and the two witches were enough.

  Melixa crossed the room to crouch in front of her. “Can I get you anything before we start?” The woman’s blue eyes shone brightly against her smooth ivory skin, her thick black hair pulled into a ponytail.

  “No, thank you.” Alina’s voice was small and betrayed her nerves.

  The young witch smiled. “You’ll be fine. This won’t hurt, and if you feel dizzy or sick or anything, Ashina’s right here.”

  Alina nodded and took a deep breath. With one pat to her knee, Melixa got up and Whysper sat down on the couch. She held a small wooden bowl and a knife.

  “I need a drop of your blood. Mine, as well.” Whysper reached for Alina’s hand, her rough wrinkled skin hiding a surprisingly strong grip. “Do you have any questions?”

  “Um, so…you’ll see what happened to me?” Alina asked.

  “Yes. And maybe we all will.” She nodded at the room. “Each species and each memory is different. The images may project from your mind to mine, or into the room. They may show on the wall, like a movie, or on a table, like a holographic reenactment.”

  “Wow.” Alina blinked, stunned at the options.

  “I will give input as the events unfold. Sometimes it may seem painfully clear what is happening, but at times, not. We don’t know what we’ll see…sometimes it can be hard to examine one’s past…though it can also be exciting.” Whysper winked. “If you’re ready…”

  “I am.” Alina felt like she was about to jump off a cliff. Scared, excited, and not sure exactly where she’d land.

  “We’ll begin.” Whysper closed her eyes and chanted in a language Alina didn’t recognize.

  Energy crackled in the room, making the tiny hairs on Alina’s arms stand up. A gentle air current moved through the room like a sentient creature, ruffling the edges of scattered blankets and settling around Whysper’s slight form. The ends of her hair fluttered. The witch stopped her soft words and opened her eyes.

  Alina gasped. Gone was the natural brown of the old witch’s eyes, replaced by pure milky white. She’d heard of this happening with certain spell casters, but had never seen it in person, and it was downright eerie. Instinctively, she started to withdraw her hand, still held in Whysper’s.

  The witch’s grip tightened and her white eyes seemed to focus on their entwined fingers. In a movement too quick to process, Whysper raised the knife and drew it across both of their hands. Alina winced at the small pain, but the cut wasn’t deep.

  The witch then turned Alina’s hand so that one drop of blood fell into the bowl, then did the same for her own. Speaking again in that unfamiliar tongue, she released Alina and cupped the bowl in her fingers.

  Electric zaps danced down Alina’s arms. A thin tendril of red mist rose from the bowl and swayed in the breeze surrounding Whysper. It stretched out and then curled up tightly, held aloft by the spell. Alina’s eyelids grew heavy, but a sense of urgency forced her to keep them open. Magic stirred in her veins, like when she used her cloaking ability, but way more intense.

  Sitting there, caught between a trance and the most exciting moment of her life, Alina stared breathlessly at the sudden movement on the velvet-covered wall.

  Her eyes widened and she wanted to press a hand to her chest, but her arms were too heavy to move. Before them was an image of a tiny girl surrounded by white satin, in a brightly lit room. A bracelet made of plastic flowers encircled her wrist. Her hands lay folded across her white ruffled dress. Eyes closed. A coffin. Oh my god.

  “Gods,” Sebastian muttered. “That’s you.”

  Next to her, Ashina let out a shaky breath.

  The image changed. The coffin was closed and underground, but Alina was able to see the child inside. Peaceful stillness projected from the girl’s face, then…

  One of the girl’s tiny fingers twitched, a barely perceptible movement.

  Alina bit her lip, agonized by how this had happened.

  As if knowing her question, Whysper spoke. “You’re not human, child. You are not of Earth. Human medicine didn’t know what to make of you.”

  Alina got the odd sense of time passing in her reflected memories, though if days or months, she couldn’t tell. As she watched, the image changed again. They were looking at the burial vault from under the ground. Small cracks formed in the pink concrete, spreading out like vines, until the vault cracked.

  Cracked? Riveted, she stared as pieces of it shifted away. Large and small chunks moved slowly, as if the dirt itself was working to move the pieces away from what lay within.

  A white casket.

  The same pattern of cracks appeared there next, racing across the pale wood in a spider web of promised freedom.

  The box split apart. Pieces of wood and scraps of satin crumpled around the small child within.

  Alina let out a strangled cry. She tried to form words, but her numb lips weren’t responding and her thoughts were a jumble of wild fear. That was me. Oh my god.

  “Your affinity is with the earth, child,” Whysper said. “The human custom of burying the dead embedded you within your element.”

  Alina stared at the witch, whose eyes were still bone-white as she faced the magic reproduction on the wall.

  “Your element responded to your body’s need. It removed you from the human bindings of death.”

  “How?” Ashina’s voice was an awed whisper next to her.

  “Ley lines.” The witch was silent for a minute. “Sensing the need to heal its mistress, the earth drew on the power of the ley lines, even redirecting them so more magic would be concentrated in the area where the Solsti needed it.”

  Ley lines? All the realms had them, but Alina had heard that they were weakest on Earth. Her attention back on the wall, she stared as the dirt shifted gently around the girl’s small body. Tiny pockets beneath her opened, allowing her to move down, inch by inch until she was free of the shreds of satin and broken casket.

  By creating air pockets one after another, each one deeper than the last, the child moved down. Deeper and deeper into the depths of the earth, always with a halo of air around her head, she moved. Cradled gently, a peaceful expression on her face, her eyes remained closed.

  Alina had no idea how long this took. Years? Finally, the girl reached a cave with a stream trickling through it and a gentle trickle falling from the ground above. Not tall, maybe six feet in height, it looked like …well, a nest. Alina wondered if it had been created for her or if it was there all along.

  “That’s the place,” Sebastian said, voice thick with emotion. “That’s where I found you.”

  The group watched in silence as Alina’s body grew.

  “The earth is healing your heart, child,” Whysper said. “It recognizes you, and knows you are needed. But this is a lengthy process.”

  Staring at the image, it seemed like nothing was happening except for Alina growing bigger. Her toddler’s body lay on its side, curled in a fetal position on the floor of the cave. At regular intervals, water dripped from the tiny spring high on the wall and into her mouth. The girl’s body was able to turn to drink, and grew slowly into that of a young girl.

  Whysper’s body
jerked and she sucked in a breath. “You are healed. But at a price.”

  The intensity of the magic in the room dropped. Alina finally found her voice and turned to the witch. “Price?”

  Whysper’s eyes returned to their natural brown. “The earth took ten years to heal you. It kept you alive through its connection to you, plus the magic of the ley lines, making sure you were nourished and warm. And in return, it requires a price.”

  “What?” Alina whispered.

  “The earth healed your heart, and so…it claims your heart.”

  Confusion beat a pounding rhythm in her head. “What does that mean?”

  “It belongs to the earth. You are not free to give it to another.”

  “Give it?” None of this made sense.

  Ashina’s hand was warm on her back as she spoke to the witch. “You mean, given in romantic love?”

  “Yes, healer. The Solsti’s heart cannot be given away. She cannot utter words of true love to another.”

  Alina blinked, trying to process the information. “I can’t fall in love?” Not that it had ever seemed like a possibility. She wasn’t in one place long enough to get to know anyone.

  Caine’s image flashed in her mind. Gorgeous chiseled face and muscles. Lethal fighting skills and lips she was dying to kiss again. Her stomach dropped like a lead balloon. “What happens if I do? It’s not like people can control that.”

  “The earth claims your heart. If you love another, it will then claim your body.”

  “What?” Sebastian shot to his feet. “How? You mean, kill her?” He paced the room. “Why would her element heal her only to cause her death—again?”

  Sad certainty glimmered in Whysper’s eyes. “That I do not know, vampire. I don’t always know the why of a situation. All I can say here is that the earth will reclaim her if she acknowledges her love for another. But whether it will mean death or imprisonment, I’m not sure.”

  Alina covered her face with her hands. “Death or imprisonment? Oh my god, no. No. I didn’t ask for this.”