Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  I opened my eyes and found her watching me. “You can’t read thoughts, can you? Now that we’re no longer attached—bonded?”

  “When we were first bonded, I became aware of thoughts that were not my own. I could speak to your mind, and you to mine, but I couldn’t so much read your thoughts as sense them.” She frowned. “Why?”

  It was a testament to my tiredness that I contemplated telling her all the times I had left my window open for her, all the times I had thought I had seen her in the market, and all the times I had wished to see her again. I smiled at my own foolishness. “No reason.”

  The bitter Brean air gusted into the loft. I hunkered down among a few empty burlap sacks.

  “The mages have the Eye.” I paused and swallowed hard. The smoke had singed my throat, making my voice hoarse. My thoughts whirled, barely anchored in reality. I needed to rest, but too many questions bubbled up in my mind. While we were in the Inner Circle, there would be no rest. The guards would flush us out soon enough. “I … Shaianna, there’s a mark on my back. The guard, Anuska, said it was the mark of a magic user. I didn’t put it there.”

  Pain throbbed behind my eyes and down the back of my neck.

  “It is the knot, a magic branding,” she replied, still gazing out of the window as though Brea held all the answers. “All mages have the mark.”

  “Why do I?”

  “Mages are people of the Inner Circle, corrupted long ago by a flood of magic. It is why the people here are forbidden to harvest magic, and why they are imprisoned behind these great walls. You and your kind were born mage. But you do not become mage unless you harvest magic. Your parents, and the generations before them, were the same. While I slept, the world changed. The past was buried beside me. The Inner Circle forgot the foundation upon which their great spire was built. The people grew content in their ignorance.” She smiled a sorry smile.

  I rubbed at my forehead and winced as the pain throbbed anew. “I don’t understand any of this. You’re saying I’m going to turn into one of those things?”

  “As Inner Circle born, you have the potential, but the knot proclaims you’re safe. You are under my protection, even from the threat you pose to yourself.”

  “You marked me?”

  She crossed the floor in a few strides and crouched beside me. After pushing her hood back, she stared into my eyes, trapping me under her glare.

  “Who are you?” I whispered.

  She hesitated, perhaps wondering whether to lie or how to word the truth. “I am torn. At odds with myself. I am lost. It was not meant to be this way.”

  “You’re the Arachian queen’s advisor. You’re the shadow on the wall.” What little light there was caught in her dark eyes. “The mages said you are the last.” I touched her face. She seemed so real, so normal, and yet so entirely foreign and unfamiliar, so unreal: an impossible contradiction, like night and day held together in one moment. “They said the shadow will embrace all.”

  Her glare thinned. “We must retrieve what they stole.”

  I brushed a thumb over her lips and down her chin. “You were hidden away. Forgotten. Like magic. Like the Eye. Why?”

  She caught my hand and held it still. “Why do you place artifacts in glass cases? To preserve them. All of my kind were destroyed, and I would have been too had my queen not hidden me from the world.”

  I knew enough about her to know she didn’t run or hide. She’d fought to the end atop that hill. “Why are you here now?”

  She swallowed and bit into her lip. “I’m …” Taking a breath, she tried again. “I am afraid.” She released my hand. “I was never afraid, thief. My vengeance was a swift and final sentence. A spark in the night.” Her lips twitched. “Fear has no place in my heart. And neither do you.”

  I’d seen fear in her before, but only when her guard slipped. It was there now, bright in her eyes and etched into the fine lines of her face.

  “Leave Brea,” I said. “Go far away. We can both go. There’s nothing left here for either of us.”

  “I cannot. They are gone, and I am dust, and dreams, and myth. Harnessed by duty, I must fulfill her wish. What else is there?” She took my hand again and pressed my palm to her cheek, then bowed her head into my touch. “There has never been one of us who has feared the ebb of the tide, the flow of blood, or the passage of the stars. But I do. I fear these things.”

  Time. She was talking about time.

  “I am not what you see, thief. I am not a hope or a dream of a better life elsewhere. I am something else entirely. Something hungry, and restless, and”—she looked up—“unforgiving.”

  I leaned in close. I might not understand her riddles, but I knew fear when I saw it. Fear as deep as hers could kill. It had killed my sister. I couldn’t let it consume Shaianna. I barely knew her—she’d made sure of that—but I had to help one of us, and it wasn’t me. “If your people are dust and dreams and myth, then let them go.”

  “You have made me wish it were that simple. But I am the last, and that burden is mine until my purpose is fulfilled.” She knelt forward and leaned gently into my side, tucking herself under my arm. Her hand settled lightly on my chest. “You have a good heart, thief. You surround it with guilt and anger, but the goodness is there.”

  I gently pulled her as close as I dared and let the quiet settle around us once more. Outside, the city slept, and sleep soon tugged at the thoughts chasing themselves around my head.

  Whispers filtered through my dreams. “Your good heart is not enough.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Birds chittered outside the hayloft as dawn crept over the Inner Circle. Shaianna stirred when I moved from her side, but she didn’t wake. With a little luck, I would return before she knew I’d left. Crouched beside her, I paused. Asleep, she looked younger, her expression light and unburdened. I moved a stray lock of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. I had lost count of the times I’d cursed meeting her in the alleyway, but somewhere in all the madness, I’d forgotten to thank her for saving me. Because she had. I’d been surviving—not living—since I’d watched my parents burn. I’d been stumbling from one day to the next—in the street, in the workhouse, in the pleasure house—finding solace by screwing over those I considered more fortunate. I wasn’t like my sister. I wasn’t brave enough to put an end to my miserable life. If Shaianna hadn’t found me, death would have, because I’d been looking for it.

  I climbed up to the icy rooftop, using the Inner Circle’s fondness for protruding ornamental brickwork, and navigated my way to where the winding narrow streets became familiar. Guards patrolled below, but they were unlikely to look up. If they did, their eyes would turn to the spire. The streets veined out in all directions, with the spire at its heart.

  Pitched roofs, chimney stacks, roof terraces—it didn’t take long for me to find my stride. I remembered the house as bigger and somehow grander, but now it slouched, forlorn and abandoned at the end of a terrace of similar houses across from a closed store. The faded black mark stamped on the stones beside the door declared it ocra: contaminated by magic.

  I climbed over the roof and down a solid iron downpipe to the rear courtyard.

  I won’t stay long, I told myself. Just long enough to say goodbye.

  The window glass in the back door cracked like thin ice. I arched my arm inside and flicked the lock. The table was set for breakfast, although rats had long ago eaten the food and upturned the bowls. A thick layer of dust painted every surface gray. After seven years, I could still see my sister playing with her doll at the table. If I listened, I could hear her voice and feel her little hand tugging on my sleeve.

  The furniture in the front room lay where the guards had kicked it aside, but it was the rust-red stains on the walls that caught my eye. I hadn’t expected the guards to attack. I’d been wrong, so wrong about so many things.

  “Where’s the woman?”

  I spun to find Anuska in the doorway. Her steel armor and white cl
oak sported new grazes and scuffs. Her hand trembled over the pommel of her sheathed sword. Soot darkened one cheek, and her tightly braided hair was matted, possibly with blood.

  She saw my gaze flick to the nearest window. “I’m not going to arrest you.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “It was the only place I could think to find you.” She relaxed her hand to her side. “Who was she?”

  “A friend.”

  “Do your friends usually slaughter a crowd of people?”

  “That wasn’t her. You saw the mages—”

  “Oh, I saw them. I also saw your woman return and cut through them as though they were nothing. Like a plague, she did not discriminate.”

  How could I explain that the people in the crowd were mages. That, in all likelihood, somewhere deep inside, the captain herself was a mage. That the very people she protected were monsters. She would never believe me. I wasn’t even sure I believed it.

  “Do you ever wonder about the wall?” I asked. “Why it’s built so high? Why we’re imprisoned inside?”

  “We’re protected from those on the outside. That way of life—”

  “I’ve seen life outside. I’ve lived it. And I agree, it’s far from perfect. On the surface, the Inner Circle looks like paradise, but the people outside, at least they’re free to do as they please. They can leave Brea whenever they want. It’s hard, but nobody said life was easy, did they?”

  “What are you saying? That the wall is meaningless? That our laws are worthless?”

  “No,” I said. “I’m telling you the wall, and the laws, are there to protect the people outside—from us.”

  She laughed, but the sound was dry and fractured. “When they brought you in, I thought you’d have horror stories to tell, but I didn’t believe you’d be telling me that we are the horror in Brea. What happened to the boy who wanted to be a city guard, who loved the Inner Circle so much he sacrificed everything to keep its peace?”

  “That boy died alongside his parents.” I righted a fallen chair as something to focus on besides her and the anger. Even after all this time, it burned bright and hot. Shaianna was right: I did cling to grief and rage and had for so long I wasn’t entirely sure there was any other way.

  “Who is she, Vance?” Anuska asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I straightened an ornamental clock on the mantelpiece, dislodging a small puff of dust. My mother had meticulously wound the clock every morning. I picked it up, gave the mechanism a few turns, and set it back down again. Dust muffled the tick-tock, but after seven years, it dutifully counted the seconds.

  “She is shadow and dust,” I mumbled.

  “It’s her, isn’t it?” Anuska’s plated armor clattered as she stepped into the room.

  I kept her in the corner of my vision. “Who?”

  “The Forgotten One.” Her hand hovered once more over her sword while she took a dagger from its sheath with her left hand. I instantly recognized the dazzling gem-studded hilt.

  “I believe that dagger is mine.”

  “We heard of the cup and its recent discovery. But I didn’t truly believe …” She came forward. Her sword rang as she pulled it free of its scabbard. “I didn’t have faith. Our history was written so long ago, but it’s all so clear now.”

  I lifted my hands, moving away from the fireplace toward the window. “I’m glad someone thinks so. Perhaps you could enlighten me, because I seem to be the only one who’s still in the dark.”

  Her smile was as dry as her laugh had been. “And you always will be if she has her way. You would have made a fine guard, Vance.”

  “Those things, those mages, they’re Inner Circle people twisted by magic.” She didn’t react. Not even a blink. She knew. “Is that why you burn them?”

  “Their numbers increase despite our best efforts. For those kept in the spire, it is too late. But there is a purpose for those poor souls. For others, those who show signs … we quell our ugly.”

  Those stoic faces in the crowd would have watched me burn, and nobody would have said a word, because they all knew. I wondered if my parents had deliberately lied to my sister and me?

  “You are all monsters,” I told her.

  “You would like to think so. She has her claws deep in you. How did she trick you? Did she offer you riches? Eternal life? Whatever it was, you’ll not get it. She is a creature of deception.”

  I stepped again toward the window as Anuska sidestepped around the fallen furniture, both blades out. The High Guard never exposed a blade unless they intended to use it.

  “The only deal I accepted was the one to free me of a bond.”

  Anuska’s smile stretched wide, revealing perfect white teeth. “Free you?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry to tell you there will be no freedom for the likes of those who work alongside the Forgotten One—unless you submit to me here. I can free you, Curtis Vance.” She lifted the dagger. “It’s a mercy, really. Make your final sacrifice, and it will all be over. You’ll be a hero. Isn’t that what you wanted as a boy? To protect the city you loved?”

  “I’m done making sacrifices for lies.”

  She stilled. “You’re trouble, Vance. The Circle is too fragile. I can’t let you leave to spread discontent. It must end here.”

  I had the window at my back. “Why does it have to end at all? I don’t want to hurt you over twisted beliefs.”

  “Nor I you. But there is no choice here. The mark, your companion. You must die—if not by fire, then by steel.” She lunged.

  I veered left, light on my feet, and dodged her sword thrust. She expected me to go for the window and had lined herself up to block me, but I feinted and dove in, tackling her around the waist. I hit hard, but not hard enough. She stood her ground and cracked her pommel between my shoulders, almost dropping me to my knees. I clamped onto her and blocked her dagger strike with my forearm, sending the blade upward. She staggered back and fell against the chair, but she used the space to draw her sword arm back. I sprang and locked my hand around her throat.

  “I don’t want this,” I hissed.

  She glared, teeth gritted. Unwavering dedication to her cause burned hot in her icy blue eyes. She would kill me.

  I tightened my grip, muscles trembling. “I’m sorry, I am …”

  She kicked and bucked, but the combined weight of me and her armor pinned her.

  “It didn’t have to be like this.”

  Her fanatical glare dulled. Her thrashing slowed. And her expression dissolved with the realization that it was over for her.

  I let go.

  She gasped and clawed at her neck, gulping down air.

  I tore the dagger from her loose fingers and backed away. “Don’t come looking for me. Let this crusade of yours rest here.”

  Her mouth moved. She groped for her sword and tried to advance, but a coughing fit doubled her over.

  I left her there and took to the rooftops before she could track me. Ahead, the ice-caked spire shone like a sword pointed high at the pale blue winter sky. In all the captain’s ramblings, some things had made sense. Anuska had told me where the mages were: in the spire, at the heart of the Inner Circle. If we wanted to retrieve the Eye, we would have to go into the nest.

  I dropped in through the hayloft’s loading door. Shaianna stood at the back of the loft, hands at her sides, peering straight through me. I tossed her a stolen apple. She snatched it out of the air and continued scowling. “I know where the mages are,” I told her.

  “Where did you go?”

  “They’re kept in the spire.” I showed her the dagger, now back in my possession, but her scowl was carved deep. I tucked the dagger against my back and bit into my apple, watching her watching me as I chewed. “The guard also admitted to knowing the mages are magic-corrupted Inner Circle people. Maybe everyone here knows, or maybe just a select few. Maybe I just didn’t stick around long enough for them to tell me the truth.”

  “Where did you go?” she asked agai
n, this time with more conviction.

  “Home.” Crunching into another bite of apple, I curiously noted her rigid stance. “I went home. Why?”

  Her eyes flicked to the loading door. “There was nothing there for you, was there? Just useless memories.”

  The same useless memories as those she had witnessed in her ruins. “But I had to see it all the same.”

  “To remind yourself of where you come from?” She tilted her head, scrutinizing me and my thoughts. “I understand, but it is dangerous here for you.”

  My lips twitched. “It’s dangerous everywhere.” It wasn’t concern in her eyes. Anger, possibly. Frustration, definitely. “The bond,” I began. “It’s not gone, is it?”

  She blinked, her expression schooled.

  “A mage tried to gut me. I got caught bleeding out on a whorehouse floor. I survived when I shouldn’t have. What did you do to me in that tomb? What was that ritual with the dagger and the cup?”

  “When I asked you to drink from the cup, we were tethered and I was weak. I needed your help to ground myself in this place and time. What you saw in the tomb, what I did …” She stopped, but from her shifting gaze, I could tell she wasn’t finished.

  “I have a mark on my back, Shaianna. You branded me. Captain Anuska condemned me as a magic user because of it. You almost got me killed.”

  Her gaze went to the door again. She was lying, or at least avoiding the whole truth. “It won’t hurt you. It’s protection.”

  “Protection like the knot on the mage you killed in my loft?”

  “Would you have rather died on that whorehouse floor?” There, a spark of anger hardened her eyes. I was wearing her down.

  “I’d rather you tell me the truth.”

  “I would never hurt you, Curtis. Without you, I wouldn’t be here. You’ve become”—she frowned—“integral. I’m just attempting to keep you safe.”