Shadow and Bones (Dullahan Book 1)

by Ryvr Jones

  She shoved him. Surprised, he stumbled back. What the fuck?

  “You apologize?” she hissed. “You tell me you want to die, that you’ve tried to kill yourself, and then you apologize.” Fury sparkled in her eyes. “I was sent for you, to help you. And you want to die?” She shook her head. “I apologize,” she mocked, “but you can’t kill yourself before we figure out what in the freaking hell I came here to do.”

  “It doesn’t matter, since I don’t have any choice!” he shot back, ticked off by her indignation. She couldn’t possibly understand what it was to live in hell for centuries on end, without a way out. Feeling his soul rotting away, knowing the darkness that lurked inside him grew every day. It rumbled under his skin at that very moment, wanting out, clawing at his control.

  The wind howled around the walls and through the naked window frames, whipping rain drops in their direction.

  “Rhys.” She rubbed her chest, her face pained. “I can feel it. Don’t give in.” She stretched her arm, beckoning him to her light. Almost against his will, he took her hand and let her tug him closer.

  Wedging her arms under his, she hugged him and rested her head on his chest, over his heart. “I won’t forsake you. I won’t let the darkness take you away.” Thunder punctuated her softly spoken promise.

  Rhys clutched her to his body, hiding his face in her hair. She was a lifeline, a beacon in the midst of the dark night that was his life. He almost believed her light would keep the darkness at bay.

  I’m your last hope. For the first time, he understood her words, and it terrified him down to his core.

  Of all the horrifying things he’d battled through his lonely existence, hope was the most dangerous of all.

  Tamerah was terrified.

  Rhys’s words kept echoing in her head. I want to die. He’d tried to kill himself. How much pain and misery had he endured, if death was all he wanted?

  Her entire being screamed in denial, a certainty flaring up in her heart. If he died, something horrible would happen, something that transcended both of them. But what? She cursed her lack of memories. Knowing he wouldn’t believe her without more concrete evidence, she took comfort in his breath rustling her hair, the solid wall of his torso, the strong arms keeping her close to his warmth.

  Little by little, the ache in her chest eased, and she knew he felt better. She tilted her head back, searching for his face. His gaze collided with hers, his dark eyes swirling with light instead of desperation and death.

  “I don’t want you to die,” she whispered.

  Heat flared in the obsidian depths of his stare, and her breath caught up in her throat. His fingertips traced her mouth, a fleeting, almost there touch. Her lips parted as her heart hammered in her chest.

  Rhys leaned in, until his face was a blur and she had to close her eyes. He buried his hand in her hair, clasping the back of her neck. His breath glided over her mouth for a second, before he closed the sliver of space between them and kissed her. His lips were warm and soft, caressing her with gentleness. Her world turned upside down, floating in pleasure.

  Going on instinct, wanting more, she traced his lower lip with her tongue, reveling in the taste of him. Rhys groaned and pressed her more tightly to him, invading her mouth, tilting her head back. Fire coursed through her veins as she clutched his coat, wishing she could feel his skin under her fingers.

  Tamerah bit his lip lightly, tugging the warm flesh until he growled and conquered her mouth once more, licking and plunging inside. Getting bolder, she battled for dominance, seeking entrance to his mouth, exploring, learning the shapes and flavors of him.

  Something coiled tightly in her lower belly as he sucked her tongue. “Rhys.” Her strangled moan was a plea for more, but he stopped and rested his forehead against hers, his breathing as shallow as her own. For long moments, the only sounds were the falling rain and their heavy breathing.

  “Forgive me,” he finally said, his eyes closed, his face tense with…regret?

  The possibility slashed her heart open. He let her go, stepping back, and Tamerah huddled inside her coat, feeling unbearably cold and vulnerable.

  “For what?”

  “I shouldn’t have kissed you.” He turned to stare at the rain, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  Her shoulders slumped. She leaned against the wall, needing something solid to support her and keep her from crumbling under the weight of the hurt. “Why?”

  “I don’t have anything to offer you. I can’t make any promises. I’m a worthless, hollow shell. Darkness, death and misery, that’s all I am.” Rhys said the horrible words quietly, resignedly. He believed it was the truth, and it made her soul bleed. “You’ve seen what I did, you know what I am.”

  “What I see is an honorable, courageous man who was dealt a hard hand, and did the best he could. A man who carries a horrible burden, who fights the darkness every day, when it would be so easy to let go and let the world be damned. A man who took a naked, crazy stranger under his protection, when he had no reason to do so.”

  “I’m not even a man anymore, Tarani.” His gaze went to the floor, defeated, sadness radiating from him in thick waves.

  She walked to him and took his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes. “I don’t care about what you are, Rhys. I know who you are, I know you. That’s all that matters to me. You.”

  A rueful, lopsided smile curled his lips. “You are crazy, lady.”

  Smiling back, she caressed the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “Maybe I am. But I’m your crazy lady, and you won’t get rid of me. You can’t scare me away.”

  His eyelids fell, shielding his gaze from her. “I don’t want to scare you.” He caught her hands and brought them to his chest, holding them tightly. “Fuck me to hell and beyond, I don’t want you to go away.” He opened his eyes, something menacing lurking in them. After a moment, he shook his head and stepped back, looking around. Avoiding her gaze. “We came here to find something. I need to take care of it before…” He grimaced. “Before my boss starts to worry.”

  Tamerah sighed. “What are we looking for?”

  “I don’t know.” He sounded pissed off, and she turned back to him, certain she hadn’t heard right. He was silent for a moment, obviously thinking about how much he could tell her. “My boss says there’s something important here, but she wouldn’t tell me what. I know it sounds crazy, but Seersha—”

  “Seersha?” Something tugged at her memory, and she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to remember.

  “That’s her name. Why?” He crossed his arms, going stiff as pole.

  “I think I’ve heard it before, but I can’t remember.” She rubbed her temples, focusing on the name. Nothing came, and she threw her arms up, frustrated. “I hate this! And you,” she pointed a finger at him, “don’t give me that look.”

  “What look?” He scowled, which ticked her off even more.

  “The you-are-lying-to-me look. Every time you mention your boss, your face does this thing,” she mimicked his expression, “like you’re sucking on a rotten lemon. So, I gather you don’t like her. Now I say there’s something familiar about her name and there you go, thinking I’m trying to deceive you. I’m not!”

  Rhys’s mouth hung open, his jaw slack, his eyes slightly wide.

  Great, Tamerah. Making fun of him definitely will help with the whole trust-me thing.

  “Okay, the rotten lemon was a bit too much,” she rushed to add. “But I can tell you don’t like her. And you were about to be an asshole, and you asked me to call you on that, so there.” Oh, much better. She cringed and covered her face with her hands.

  To her utter surprise, he laughed. She spied on him between her fingers. His head was thrown back, his hands linked behind his neck, and he was laughing. Really laughing. Her soul warmed hearing the sound for the second time since they had met. His laugh was definitely better than his almost-laugh.

  Rhys turned his gaze to her, zeroing in on her eyes thr
ough her fingers. He grinned, and her limbs melted. Oh Goddess, he’s gorgeous.

  His face was relaxed, his dark eyes sparkling with light. The strong line of his jaw, his strong nose, the muscled chest hidden revealed by his stretched shirt, the way he stood with his hands clasping the back of his neck and his powerful legs slightly apart—everything about him called to her in a primal level.

  “A rotten lemon, huh?” he asked.

  She closed her fingers, mortified. “It was an unfortunate metaphor.”

  “You can come out of your hiding spot.” There were traces of laughter in his deep voice, and she wanted to kiss him again. So badly. Her whole body tightened, her skin flushed with heat. “I won’t be an asshole. I promise.”

  She let her arms fall, then shoved her hands in her pockets to keep from grabbing his shoulders and kissing the daylights out of him. Focus, Tamerah. She let her gaze wander to the pouring rain. “So, we don’t know what we’re looking for?”

  “No.” His voice turned serious, but he didn’t seem tense anymore. “Nevertheless, there’s something important here. I know the symbol created by the glass, and what it means.”

  “It was destroyed.” Tamerah looked to the now empty window frames, the rain falling through the arched holes. She remembered how he’d spun her around, protecting her from the shattering glass with his body, making her feel safe in his embrace. Longing engulfed her, her arms itching to hug his solid frame.

  He shrugged. “If the storm hadn’t destroyed it, I’d have done it myself. The display was created for me, and I don’t want anybody else to see it.”

  She knew better than to ask why. “What do we do, then?”

  “Tarani.” She turned to him. His shoulder was propped on one of the gallery’s pillars, his arms crossed over his chest. “For reasons as of this moment unknown, you know more about the—let’s call it the supernatural world—than most humans.”

  “But we don’t know if I’m human.” He didn’t say anything, but the answer was written on his face. Fear struck her, strangling her with icy claws. “If I—” She choked, but forced the words out. “If not human, then what am I?”

  “You could be a number of things, but then again, you may be human. Someone may have involved you with things you shouldn’t be aware of. Until we know for sure, I don’t know what I’m allowed to tell you.”

  “Allowed?” She swallowed.

  He nodded. “There are rules. If you’re not one of us, they’ve already been broken. You know things a human shouldn’t, and you’re going to know more, before we go back. You can ask your questions, but I won’t answer most of them.” His voice got low and rusty. “Will you help me anyway?”

  “Of course.” She gave him a small smile.

  “Only moonlight will show where this fucking mysterious thing is.” He stared at the rain. “If we’re lucky, the rain will stop before dawn, and we may have a shot.” Rhys ran his fingers through his hair. “We could search the place, but it’s too dark and I don’t want to risk getting you hurt, especially since I believe the search would be fruitless.” His gaze came back to her face, his brow creasing. “Aren’t you hungry? Thirsty? Fuck.” He rubbed his hands down his face. “I’m a fucking moron.”

  Tamerah tilted her head, pursing her lips as she paid attention to her body. “No, I don’t think I am.” She wrinkled her nose. “That’s weird, right? But I feel fine.” He stared at her, sorrow on his face, and realization dawned. “If I were human, I’d probably be hungry by now.”

  “I’m sorry, Tarani.” He apologized as if it was his fault she wasn’t human, and it was a bad thing.

  “Is it bad?” He seemed puzzled at her question, so she explained. “This not-being-human thing, is it bad?”

  Pain flashed on his face, and she cursed her stupidity. Of course for him it was bad. So bad, all he wanted was to die.

  Her gut lurched, bile rising to her throat. If she couldn’t even think about Rhys dying, then what must have it been like for him, knowing that all the people he’d loved had died, leaving him alone?

  Grief washed through her and she doubled over, feeling like she was about to vomit. She’d have crashed to the floor but Rhys was there, keeping her upright, supporting her weight with his strong arms.

  “Hey, hey. Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” She took a deep, steading breath. “It’s just…” What could she say, that wouldn’t add to his burden, wouldn’t make him sad? She burrowed into his arms and put a hand over his heart. “It doesn’t matter what I am, you’re not alone anymore.”

  A strangled sound rumbled through his chest, and she knew what he was thinking. “No, Rhys. I won’t die and leave you behind, all alone in the dark once again. I’ll kill you first. I’ll find a way.”

  His almost-laugh echoed in the empty hall. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in centuries.” He brushed his lips over her temple. “I don’t have a right to ask, but I will anyway. Do you promise?”

  Her heart cracked open, and she swallowed the pain lodged in her throat. Silent tears slid down her face, but she nodded. “I promise.”

  They stayed silent for a long time, watching the rain fall.

  The rain had stopped and the sun was setting behind the thinning clouds, but Rhys wasn’t happy with the prospect of getting the moonlight he needed to get the freaking job done.

  Job, my ass. Seersha must have known he needed to get to the ruins during daylight, to be able to see the colored pattern on the floor. Which meant she also knew the display was a message from Brianna, telling him she’d left something for him, hidden behind a magical lock.

  Seersha had sent him not to get something for her, but to receive Brianna’s message. How does Seersha know about it? Why send me here now, centuries after Brianna died? Does this have something to do with Tarani? So many questions. And his gut was still saying something was wrong. He couldn’t shake the feeling they were in danger.

  They’d been sitting in the floor side by side for hours, shoulders touching, their backs propped against the wall. The gallery’s protection kept them dry, and despite the temperature dropping fast, Tarani said she wasn’t cold.

  He was almost certain she wasn’t human, and he didn’t know if he was glad or not. They hadn’t talked about it. They’d barely spoken after she promised to kill him.

  Jesus fucking Christ. He’d asked her to promise something he knew was impossible. That if at all possible, would leave her soul tainted, scarred. I have to take it back. She’d never give up trying if he didn’t release her from her promise.

  His soul rotted a little more at the thought of being all alone again. But it was his burden, one that he’d brought on himself. He wouldn’t drag her to the darkness with him. She didn’t deserve it.

  Rhys opened his mouth to say it, but he sensed someone approaching the castle’s ruins. He got up and strolled to the front door, Tarani right behind him.

  “Someone is coming,” he informed. “I know him, but don’t say anything. Don’t ask questions, and above all, don’t answer any questions.” After a second he added, “Please.”

  “Okay.”

  Rhys turned his attention to the stone path ahead. A minute later the visitor appeared between the stone dragons, his walking pace fast and purposeful. As he approached, nostalgia filled Rhys’s chest.

  Caeron looked exactly as Rhys remembered. Brown hair and dark blue eyes, his tall frame dressed in an aviator jacket and faded jeans. His combat boots didn’t make any noise as he walked, almost as stealthy as Rhys.

  He wondered if Tarani would think their visitor was handsome, and swallowed a growl. Get you shit together, dickhead.

  “Caeron,” he greeted.

  Caeron stopped in front of them, crossing his arms and widening his stance. Rhys fought the urge to hide Tarani behind him. Caeron wouldn’t be a danger to her, but he didn’t want to discuss her presence. Least of all with Caeron.

  “Rhys.” Caeron dipped his head. “Long time no see.”
<
br />   “There was no reason to.” Anger flashed in Caeron’s eyes, but Rhys ignored it. “There’s one now, I gather.”

  “You tell me.” Caeron shoved his hands in his jeans’ pockets. “You came to my turf without letting me know you were coming, but you knew I’d be aware of your visit. You can’t be surprised by my presence here. So, let’s cut the crap. What’s up?” He eyed Tarani briefly, curiosity in his eyes.

  Fucking shit. Caeron had always been able to get under his skin. Get this over with. Fast. “Seersha sent me. She persuaded me to take a job.”

  “I can imagine how happy you are.” Caeron laughed. He knew Seersha almost as well as Rhys did, and was definitely familiar with her persuasion tactics. “Need help?”

  The offer gave Rhys pause. They had been close a long time ago, until Rhys had decided to cut ties, despite Caeron’s protests. Since then, they rarely had contact with one another, and Rhys didn’t want to open that door again. “I think I can handle it. I appreciate the offer, though.”

  “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” Caeron shrugged. “Things tend to get boring over there, I’d welcome some distraction.” He turned and started back to the gates, tossing over his shoulder, “Be careful if you stay the night. There are rumors this place is haunted.”

  Rhys snorted and Caeron kept walking, rising a hand above his head and saluting with two fingers.

  As soon as Caeron disappeared from sight, Tarani broke the silence. “What’s so funny about those rumors? It doesn’t seem funny to me.”

  Shit. He didn’t want to lie, but he wasn’t sure yet that she wasn’t human. On the other hand, he’d promised he wouldn’t be an asshole, and he intended to keep the promise to the best of his abilities.

  “I can only tell you half of the truth,” he said and she nodded. “Caeron is Tarmanagh’s gravedigger. It’s kind of a running joke between us, how the gravediggers aren’t scared of ghosts.”

  “Because you’re used to dealing with death?”

  Because the ghosts are the ones scared of us. “That’s part of it, yes.”

  Her eyes drilled into him, and she tilted her head. “I could swear he has more in common with you than being a gravedigger. But that’s another thing you can’t tell me, isn’t it?” After a heartbeat, she lifted a hand, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have asked. Forget it.”