Boss Fight (Beyond the Aura Book 1)

by Helen Adams

There was blood everywhere. It was splattered across the ceiling, the walls, the wide-screen TV; it was soaking into the carpet; it dripped off the leather sofa and armchairs. I stared around the room, wide-eyed with horror, trying to work out where it was all coming from.

  Oh. Oh. Um…

  What was left of Kristjan, warlock representative of the Midnight Conclave, was strewn across his living room. I saw a severed foot – still wearing a slipper – on the back of the sofa. His arm was draped over the TV.

  Lukas was tossing Kristjan’s head up and down as if it was a basketball.

  I screwed my eyes shut. There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home…

  When I opened them again he was still here, watching me with predatory amusement.

  “What…” The words stuck in my throat. “What’s going on?”

  The vaengrjarl pushed a steaming pile of entrails off the sofa and sprawled out, mindless of the gore. He was still tossing Kristjan’s head around. The dead warlock’s features were obscured by a film of blood.

  “I was flying back to London when I found myself… delayed,” Lukas explained. His voice was as calm as if he was talking about the weather, though the twang of his Scandinavian accent was stronger now. “Air golems, can you believe it? I had an awful time shaking them off. Blood is a nuisance to get out of clothes.”

  “Soak them in cold water,” I said before I could stop myself.

  “Daphne,” Raz interrupted, with a hard nudge to my ribs, “would you like to tell me about your… friend?” The last word was hesitant. “Your – vaengrjarl friend?”

  Shit. I was so busted. Lukas’s sharp eyes fixed on Raz.

  “This would be your mentor.”

  It wasn’t a question. He’d done his homework; within hours of our first meeting he’d turned the stalker dial up to eleven and found out everything about me.

  I swallowed. “Raz, this is Lukas. We, uh, we met a few years ago…”

  “Your contact is a vaengrjarl prince?” Raz’s eyes widened as he recognised the name, and his voice came out thin and reedy. Not a whisper, not a scream – somewhere in between.

  “She hasn’t told you?”

  I glared at him, furious. Of course I hadn’t fucking told him. I hadn’t told anyone.

  “So, um… air golems, right?” It was time to get this conversation back on track. Please, please let me get this conversation back on track.

  “Only a vaengrjarl has complete mastery of the skies.” Lukas, at least, seemed inclined to let sleeping dogs lie; I knew that when we left, Raz wouldn’t be so willing.

  “How did you wind up here?” Asking questions was the last thing I wanted to do, but for my own peace of mind I needed to make sense of this slaughter.

  “I tracked down the man who sent the golems.” He barred his teeth, and I remembered the long-distant sting of those teeth biting my skin. I’d never realised that biting was a turn-on until we’d met.

  “How… how did you track him?”

  He turned those brilliant, shining green eyes on me. I shuddered and tried not to step back.

  “Golems are raised and controlled with primal magic.” He waved Kristjan’s head at the room. Ugh. “I followed the scent back to the caster.”

  So now we’d both been attacked by golems, though we’d taken different paths to reach the same point. I gulped. There were any number of things I could say, but something that wouldn’t provoke the blood-drenched vaengrjarl would be nice.

  “We’re grateful for the assist,” Raz said, angling his body so that he partially blocked me from Lukas. Trying to protect me. I was pissed and touched at the same time.

  The vaengrjarl breathed deep, eyes closed with pleasure as he inhaled the stench of primal magic and gore. His eyes opened. He ignored Raz and looked straight at me.

  “I didn’t do it for him, Daphne. I did it for you.”

  He tossed Kristjan’s head higher – and harder – than necessary, catching it without looking. In that moment he reminded me of a cat who was done toying with his prey.

  “And we’re both grateful,” I said.

  It took everything I had not to run from that slaughterhouse. I put my sword over my shoulder and tried to radiate ‘bad-ass’, hoping I wasn’t putting out ‘mouse’ instead. Because right now I felt as if pouncing was definitely an option.

  Lukas tossed Kristjan’s head behind him. It landed on the sticky carpet with a dull thunk.

  “I’ll own you one day,” he vowed, eyes solid green lamps. “Deny me all you like, but your body remembers.”

  I had to leave. I had to go right now. Because if I stayed one more second I was going to punch the bastard right on the jaw, and that would go beyond the realms of ‘diplomatic incident’ and straight into ‘suicidally stupid’. Although with Lukas, who knew? Maybe he’d just think it was foreplay.

  Raz seemed to understand that I was close to the edge. He hustled me out of the house before I could say – or do – something that we would definitely live long enough to regret.

  That didn’t stop me punching the wall outside. I punched it again, teeth locked in a snarl, ignoring the pain that flared through my fingers and along my wrist. Ignoring the blood that stained my knuckles. I punched a third time –

  Raz stopped my fist with an outstretched palm.

  “I’m letting off steam so I don’t blow,” I growled. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “No. This is the blow-out you’re trying to avoid.”

  “Pretty sure that would be smacking Lukas…”

  “Let it go,” he advised. I shook my hand out, knuckles stinging. “It’s over. Kristjan made the golems; Lukas killed him. Whatever retribution the warlocks dish out will be aimed at him. What is not over is you telling me – in detail – how you came to meet a vaengrjarl prince.”

  “Not now,” I growled, eyeing the wall again. My bleeding knuckles could take another punch or two.

  “Yes, now!”

  “It’s personal!”

  “We’re berserkers. Everything is personal, sooner or later.”

  And Raz – father of many children – found out about everything, sooner or later.

  “In the van,” I scowled. “I’m not having this conversation in a dead man’s garden.”

  A sudden whump and a rush of heat made us stumble away. Lukas was burning Kristjan’s house to the ground.

  I felt a horrible smile tilt my lips. Any forensic evidence of Kristjan’s death was going up in smoke. It was a great big ‘a vaengrjarl did it’ sign to the warlocks, but it would keep the dewdrop police from ever guessing.

  We hurried away from the burning building, the wailing fire alarm loud in our ears. We hopped into the van. Raz drove, conservative, keeping to the speed limit.

  “Now tell me what happened,” he ordered.

  “Remember my birthday trip to London a couple of years ago?” I asked, slumping down in my seat. It had been a gift from him – the hotel, some spending money, a couple of nights out. “There was a… problem. Lukas helped me put things right.”

  “That’s it?” Raz asked, incredulous. “That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

  “That’s all you need to know.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  I glanced at him sidelong. It was hard to tell in the passing orange flare of street lights, but I thought he was glowering.

  “No.”

  “And you slept with him?”

  I gritted my teeth. “Yes.”

  He took one hand off the wheel long enough to find mine, strong fingers gentle. Whatever I’d been expecting, it wasn’t this.

  “You can tell me anything,” he murmured. “If you ever feel you want to share, I’m here.”

  “Thank you,” I said, humbled.

  I loved Raz. I really did. But there were some things I never wanted anyone to know.

  It was over. Now all we had to do was manage the aftermath. Some warlocks would band together and go after Lukas for retribution (a fut
ile and ultimately fatal exercise) while others would intensify their push for territory expansion. This, we could handle.

  There was just the outside possibility that the warlocks would get lucky, and either kill or seriously injure Lukas. While I wouldn’t weep over that, it would spark a brutal war between warlocks and vaengrjarl, one the warlocks didn’t have a cat in Hell’s chance of winning. And it would affect the balance of power between the Mythic Races for generations to come.

  More likely Lukas would grind their bones into paste. Either way, it ceased to be a berserker problem.

  I sat up straight and smacked my forehead.

  “Why would Kristjan attack Lukas? You know, he’s got the whole ‘prince of the vaengrjarl’ thing going on. He must have known he’d be signing his own death warrant!”

  “Maybe he guessed Lukas warned you,” Raz replied, though he sounded troubled. “The Midnight Conclave have eyes all over the place. Air golems are powerful, but that attack felt like the act of a desperate man.”

  “It doesn’t make sense… Kristjan’s not stupid.” I grimaced. “Sorry. Wasn’t stupid.”

  If I’d been the most powerful warlock in the country, I’d have sent more than a few air golems after Lukas. I’d have sent an army. And even that might not have been enough.

  “The Midnight Conclave doesn’t do anything alone,” I muttered. Something about this didn’t feel right.

  “That’s not true.” Raz was calm. How could he stay calm after what we’d just seen? “You know the Conclave exists to enforce the Quota and to arbitrate disputes,” he explained. “Beyond that, they can do whatever they like.”

  “What they like is to show a united front against the rest of us.”

  “Is your job so boring that you’d rather invent a conspiracy to liven things up?” he laughed.

  “If you weren’t driving this damned van, I’d punch you.”

  Raz dropped me off. I watched as the van pulled away, then trudged up all twenty flights of stairs to my flat.

  Sleep. Gorgeous, sexy, totally desirable sleep. Now the danger was over I was feeling every one of my hurts again. In the morning they’d be gone, but right now they were still reminding me that they were here. Hi, how you doing, did you miss us?

  I closed and locked the door behind me. Damn Kristjan and damn his golems. His death had been violent and bloody – there was no getting around that – but if I’d lost any of today’s fights my death would have been violent and bloody, too. I couldn’t feel any guilt for the warlock’s demise.

  The world was a better place without him. Even with the threat of warlock civil war or, worse yet, a warlock-vaengrjarl war, my world was a better place.

  I realised that I’d left the window open when Lorl flitted through, back from her night’s adventures.

  “No,” I said, holding up a hand. Lorl hovered in mid-air, a big, shiny monstrosity with too many legs clutched in her paws. “No more beetles!”

  Her whiskers dropped. But then, with a very human shrug of her shoulders, she popped the insect in her mouth and crunched, chewing happily. Gross.

  I rubbed a dab of leighis into my knuckles and crawled into bed, Lorl curling up in the space between my shoulder and chin. I was asleep in seconds.

  SIX

  The bleating alarm woke me five minutes later. Alright, so the clock said seven AM, but it felt like five minutes. I threw the alarm across the room. One of these days the bloody thing was going to smash against the wall… but that day wasn’t today.

  “Turn it off,” I muttered to Lorl, burying my face in the pillow.

  My taufrkyn uttered a scolding cheep. The alarm hadn’t stopped and now her soft warmth was gone. Hang on, why was the alarm getting louder?

  Because – ow, I was going to throttle her – the little minx had just dropped it on my head, that was why. OK! Time to get up, I got the picture.

  I went through the morning routines, grateful all over again for the healing power of leighis. The gashes and bruises were gone. A few thin scars across my ribs, but I could live with those. I looked like a regular human being and I walked like one, too, not even a hint of a limp.

  Which was good, because I had to leg it into town when the bus didn’t pull up at my stop. Another reason the trainers came in handy.

  I was late for work. Not just a little bit – a few minutes, even five or ten, would have been bad enough. But I was half an hour late. Mina pounced before I made it out of the staff room and waved me into her office. Fuck, I was in for it now.

  “You’re late.”

  I bit back my first response of ‘no shit’ and tried to find an apologetic expression, even though my feet throbbed.

  “Sorry, the bus didn’t stop –”

  “Is that my problem?”

  “No, but –”

  “You’re employed to work between certain hours, and when you don’t bother to turn up on time, someone else has to take up your slack.”

  “Don’t bother –”

  I bit my tongue, hard, tasting blood. What was it Raz had said? Oh yeah, let off steam. If I did that now, if I punched Mina’s Black Widow face across the room, I’d be letting off steam in prison.

  I glanced away, eyes coming to rest on her desk. Tucked under a magazine I spotted a few inches of a slender stick the colour of ancient ivory, perched on top of a thick old book. To a berserker those things looked like a wand sitting on top of a grimoire –

  “Well?” Mina interrupted, dragging my attention back. “I’m waiting.”

  “I told you,” I said through gritted teeth, “the bus didn’t stop.”

  “Save your excuses for someone who cares.” There wasn’t a scrap of feeling on her face. “You have two choices – receive an Official Warning, or I dock your pay.”

  I gaped, horrified. “Can’t I just make up the time?”

  “Half an hour? Your tardiness has become an issue. I can’t keep letting it go.”

  “My tardiness.” I glared, eyes narrowed, and deliberately crowded her. I was five inches taller and loomed into her personal space. “I’ve only ever been late a couple of times. By a few minutes.”

  Mina wasn’t cowed. The bitch didn’t even react. She just stood there, looking up at me with those soulless black eyes.

  “Choose. I dock your pay or you get an Official Warning.”

  I bit my lip, furious. I didn’t earn much and I couldn’t afford to lose even half an hour’s pay. On the other hand, I needed an Official Warning like I needed a hole in the head – three of those and I was sacked. Mina was gunning for me.

  Whatever decision I made would be a shitty one.

  “Dock my pay,” I said through gritted teeth, barging past. If I didn’t have a job I’d have no income at all.

  “Done.”

  Now she didn’t bother to disguise her gloating voice. It was the only emotion she’d shown.

  Alice was already at the checkout desk when I got there. Of course, she’d arrived on time.

  “You look as if you just killed someone,” she whispered, glancing at Mina as the older woman headed for the Fantasy section.

  She wouldn’t know that kind of face. I did. I’d had to look at it every day in the mirror for the past seven years, before the mask went on.

  “I want to rip her foot off and beat her to death with it,” I growled. “She’s docking me half an hour’s wages.”

  “She what? She can’t do that!”

  “It was either that or get an Official Warning.”

  “At least then you’d have the money!”

  “If I get three of those I’m out. She wants me gone.”

  Her face fell. I felt a momentary pang at being so sharp with her – she was my friend, after all – but she knew how things worked here as well as I did.

  “Sorry, Daph. Look, if it makes you short on the bills this month I can lend you somet –”

  “No.”

  “But Daphne –”

  “I said no!”

  I wouldn�
�t take charity, not even from a friend. When I’d been at my most vulnerable Raz and his family had looked after me. Those kinds of debts you could never repay.

  Friends, I reminded myself. That means you’re nice to them.

  “I mean, uh, no thanks.” I softened my tone. “That’s a kind offer. But I can’t accept.”

  Alice looked as if she might cry. Great. I’d upset her.

  Vent, vent, vent. Don’t blow.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap,” I said, softening further. “It’s just that bitch. I want to drive her head through a wall.”

  “I know.” Alice drew herself up, visibly brightening. “It’s OK. But I’m here, right? If you need anything.”

  Lee’s arrival at lunchtime splashed colour into what had been, until then, a frustrating morning. My smile must have been bright enough to warn ships away. Alice gave me a discreet thumbs up and headed for the staffroom.

  I didn’t worry about Lorl. When the coast was clear the little tealeaf would be rummaging through the fridge.

  The library was on the first floor. When we got out into the stairwell Lee swept me up and kissed me, hot and demanding. My hands were under his coat and inside his T-shirt before I remembered that we were still in a public place.

  “I needed that,” I gasped, reluctant to let him go.

  “Wanna tell me about it?”

  I kissed his stubble – man, I loved that stubble – and took his hand in mine. Together we walked down the stairs.

  “Not much to tell,” I replied. “Bus didn’t stop, so I had to walk. I was late. Mina made me choose between losing half an hour’s pay or getting an Official Warning.”

  “You got your pay docked, didn’t you?” Lee’s rich brown eyes were shrewd.

  “Yeah.” I grinned without humour; sometimes he really seemed to get me. “Three strikes and I’m out. I need my job.”

  “Ah, Mina’s a bitch,” he said as we made it to ground level. He put his arm around me. “You’re worth ten of her.”

  I leaned into him, grateful for his understanding.

  “Wanna go out for dinner tonight?” he asked a minute later.

  “You’re taking me to lunch.”