Silver

by Talia Vance

  I glance back to where Christy is laughing at something Matt said. My work here is done.

  We drive toward the beach. “Back to the scene of the crime?”

  “Something like that.”

  I keep sneaking glimpses of Blake. I don’t feel the rush of heat and anger that I’d expected. Maybe it’s because Dart is alive. Maybe it’s because Blake isn’t Jonah. Still, I know better than to trust that I won’t find myself consumed with a heady mix of power and rage at some point. It’s like there’s a bomb ticking away somewhere deep inside me. Too bad there’s no digital readout of the countdown, so I’ll know when it’s going to detonate.

  We get out of the car and walk along the base of the cliff. The firepit is a dark pile of ash, barely visible in the moonlight. We stop in front of it.

  “Do you trust me?” Blake asks.

  “I’m not sure. I want to.”

  “I wanted to show you this when we came here before.” He blushes. “We got a little distracted.” He walks up to the small crevice in the cliff and sticks his arm inside. He ducks and disappears into the side of the cliff.

  “Blake?”

  “Just try it,” he says from somewhere on the other side, though he sounds far way.

  I inspect the cliff more closely. The crack can’t be more than six inches wide at the widest point. And it doesn’t appear to go anywhere. I can’t see anything but rock. “How did you do that?”

  “You just have to trust it.”

  I tentatively stick a hand inside the crack. It fits well enough. I push my arm in further, stopping when I feel Blake’s fingers close around my wrist.

  “Close your eyes,” he says.

  He pulls me to him, letting his arms close around me.

  The air changes. The heavy ocean breeze disappears altogether, chased away by a bone-chilling wind. I hear water, but it’s no longer the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the beach—it’s the steady pounding of a rushing river.

  Blake steps behind me, his hands clasped around my waist. “Whenever you’re ready,” he says.

  I open my eyes, fighting a wave of nausea. We’re standing on a stark bluff, flat gray rock under our feet. The cliff we came through is a barren wall of rock behind us. At least fifty feet below, water rushes over rocks and stones, moonlight reflecting off the surface. Across the river is another rocky cliff, and behind it, more stark walls of rock, with waterfalls that carry more water down to the river. It’s a bleak and unforgiving landscape, and it’s breathtaking.

  “Where are we?”

  Blake leans over my shoulder. “I have no idea.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I’ve been here a hundred times, and I’m not any closer to figuring it out than the first time I discovered it.”

  “How did you find it?”

  “Promise not to laugh?”

  I nod.

  “I come to the beach a lot. I run in the dark along the cliffs, as fast as I want. One night I ran right up to the cliff and couldn’t stop in time. I thought I was going to eat it. Instead, I went right through.”

  “It’s amazing. Why did you want to show me?”

  “I guess I just wanted someone else to see this.”

  “It’s beautiful.” It’s true. Stark, cold, barren, but all of it works together to create a sense of awe.

  We sit down on a large flat boulder and watch the river rush by for a while. I fold my knees up to my chest. “We need to talk.”

  “Do we have to do this now?” he asks, not as eager as he appeared at the coffee shop.

  “Dart was attacked today.”

  “Dart?”

  “My horse. His throat was cut.”

  “You’re sure?”

  He can’t hide the shock in his eyes. He didn’t know. I let out a breath. There’s a certain relief knowing that Blake wasn’t involved in the attack. As if I couldn’t be sure until now.

  “Marcy thought it was a mountain lion.”

  I feel the hope rise in his chest. “Was it?”

  I shake my head. “It was Jonah.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “The cuts were jagged, like Jonah’s knife. And Jonah was there, with Parker.” I feel tears welling up as I remember Dart lying on the floor of the stall. “I know it was Jonah.” And I’m going to kill him.

  Blake reaches out to rub my shaking shoulders. “I’m sorry, but let’s think about this. Jonah’s a hothead, but it still doesn’t sound like something he would do. He attacked you because it’s what he’s trained for. He believes in the war against magic. He wouldn’t have any reason to hurt your horse, unless your horse is some kind of magic creature. He’s not, is he?”

  I pull away from him. “Don’t defend Jonah. I saw him just before it happened. He meant to hurt me. It was in his eyes.” My anger mixes with Blake’s emotion, which feels something like compassion. It doesn’t help. I don’t want Blake’s sympathy. I want to be angry. I need to be, to do what I have to do.

  “I won’t defend him, Brianna. Don’t you get it yet?” Blake’s eyes sparkle, not with otherworldly silver but with something far more potent. “I will always choose you. I already have.” His lips curve into a melancholy smile and my heart feels like it will break in two.

  I finally loosen my grip on the dark emotions I’ve held so tightly since this afternoon. I let myself feel what he feels. The certainty. I grab onto it for dear life. It’s the only thing keeping me from being sucked into a pit of Dart’s crimson blood.

  He brushes my cheek with his fingertips. “I know you haven’t made up your mind about any of this.” My skin heats beneath his touch. It’s a stark contrast to the cold air that moves around us.

  “What if I can’t stop it? What if I end up killing you? It feels so much bigger than me sometimes. I don’t know if I’ll even have a choice.” I finally admit the truth. To him. To myself.

  “You always have choices, Brianna. No one can take that from you. You’re the only one who can decide how this ends.”

  How, not whether. “It has to end though, doesn’t it?”

  I hate that I even think this now. What if no matter what I choose, all paths are taking me to the same place?

  Blake doesn’t say anything at first. He leans forward and presses his lips to my forehead. Gently, so I feel just the lightest sweep of his lips against my skin. Then he lets his head fall until his forehead rests against my own. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  I bring my hand to his mouth, tracing the line of his lips with my fingertip. His mouth opens, just enough for the tip of his tongue to tease the pad of my finger, sending a shock of fire through my skin until every part of my body is heated through. I trail my finger down his chin to his neck, to the opening at the collar of his shirt. His breath is coming harder, mirroring my own.

  Then his hand closes around my wrist, stopping me. “Are you sure?” he asks, as if he can’t feel the answering desire that rages inside me, mixing with his own.

  I cover his hand and reach for my bracelet. I undo the clasp and let it fall on the rock. “What do you think?”

  His sucks in a breath. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”

  I close the tiny distance between us until our lips meet. His mouth covers mine, and then we’re lying back on the boulder. The cold stone against my back only serves to intensify the fire inside as we kiss.

  I pull Blake closer, my hands wrapping around him, every touch calculated to bring him nearer. I curl a leg around his thigh, pressing, pulling, pushing against him.

  The heat of his skin comes through his shirt, and the fabric becomes an intolerable intrusion. He helps me pull the shirt over his head, and it’s my turn to gasp. My fingers slide from his neck to his belly button, forging a tentative path along
his stomach. “You know you’re kind of beautiful yourself.”

  “You think so?” A dimple appears on his cheek. He kisses me again. A deep kiss that spreads through me until I’m not certain where my craving stops and Blake’s begins. We are of one mind, pushing each other forward, so that for a few minutes at least, we might both be blissfully whole.

  “Ahem.”

  We both sit up and spin toward the sound. Austin stands just in front of us, his hands nestled casually in the front pockets of his jeans, his lips curved up in a crooked smile. “Mind if I join you?” His perfect accent makes the question sound almost innocent.

  Almost.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Blake grabs his shirt from the rock beside him. “How did you find us?” Is it my imagination, or do Austin’s eyes travel along Blake’s torso as Blake pulls on his shirt?

  “Quite by accident, I assure you.”

  “How did you get here?” Blake’s emotions shift from a mix of surprise and anger at being interrupted to a more cautious suspicion.

  “Same as you, I expect. Through the crevasse.”

  “No one knows about this place.”

  “You might want to reevaluate that.” Austin looks at me and winks.

  I scoot closer to Blake. I haven’t told Blake about Austin, about what he can do. Austin looks completely relaxed, perfectly at home among the rocks and rushing water. Even the cold wind doesn’t seem to bother him.

  “You’ve been here before?” I ask. What is Austin?

  “You could say that. It’s my home.”

  “I thought you were from England.”

  He laughs at that. “That’s probably a crime in some parts. Ireland, actually. Although I have spent time in England.” His eyes meet mine, so dark they’re nearly black. “So, does all this small talk mean you’re not interested in my joining you?”

  Blake stands up, stepping in front of the rock. “You could say that. Or do we have to spell it out for you? She’s not interested.”

  I stand up. “I can handle this.”

  Austin laughs. “Yes, by all means, let the girl make her own decisions. She might surprise you.” As he talks, his eyes bore into me, drawing me in.

  Blake reaches for my arm but I shake him off.

  “Good girl.” Austin’s voice is sticky-sweet caramel.

  Everything is a blur. Like I’m walking in a thick, hot fog. Austin holds out his hand. The pull is strong. My hand moves toward Austin’s on its own volition. It’s not a choice. It’s a necessity.

  “Brianna?” There’s a voice in the distance, far, far away. I almost don’t hear it but it’s there, tugging at the knot of confusion in my heart.

  Austin’s low voice thumps through me again. “That’s it. You’re almost there.”

  I hesitate. “No.” The word echoes in my head, and I’m not even sure I’ve really said it. But the fog in my head dissipates and I can feel Blake again—a sense of relief that’s mine and his both.

  My hand drops to my side. I turn around and run the short distance to Blake. He pulls me against him, part protector and part possessor.

  “What the hell was that? Can you use Compulsion?” Blake glares at Austin.

  Austin laughs, but his eyes are angry. “Trust me, half-breed, you don’t want a demonstration of my powers.” His hard gaze slides to me. “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you? No wonder he’s keeping you alive.”

  I want to repeat Blake’s question. And what the hell is Austin?

  “Leave her alone.” Blake’s voice is strong, but I feel his wariness as it swims through me.

  “Easier said than done, I’m afraid. Magic practically spills out of her. It’s quite a turn-on, isn’t it?”

  Blake starts to move forward but I grab his shoulder, holding him back. Blake glares at Austin. “You’re more than a breeder.”

  I turn to Blake. “He’s a breeder?” Blake hasn’t told me everything by a long shot. I feel like I don’t know either of them.

  Blake nods. “He has the Killian gene, but we weren’t able to pinpoint a generation.”

  “The Killian gene, is that what you call it?” Austin steps closer to us. “What a piece of work is Man. Always looking for a natural explanation for the unnatural, aren’t you?”

  He’s just summed up the last three years of my life. I’ve spent them looking for a rational explanation for things that never had one, trying to overcome my birthright by pretending it doesn’t exist.

  I don’t want to contemplate what other secrets Blake has kept from me, so I turn on Austin. “What are you?”

  “I imagine that depends on whom you ask.” Austin’s smile is eerily sweet.

  “I’m asking you.”

  “I’m just like you, Juliet.”

  The nickname holds no magic for me. If anything, my stomach feels slightly queasy. “You’re a demigod?”

  “God, warlock, angel, demon. Would not a rose by any other name smell as sweet?” He puts his hands back in his pockets. We might as well be talking about the weather. “Of course, you’re only half god,” he adds. “I’m the real deal.”

  He turns away and walks toward the cliff wall, his back to us. “Enough about me. It’s clear you want to be alone. Might I suggest you take yourselves elsewhere?”

  “What is this place?” I call after him. I’m not nearly satisfied by Austin’s answers.

  “Avernus,” he answers, just before he disappears through the crack in the wall.

  Once Austin is gone, the cold wind stops. The sound of the river below grows louder.

  Blake pauses. “Something’s not right.”

  There’s a sound from behind a large rock by the edge of the bluff. The growl is so low I almost miss it.

  Blake disappears from my side and for an instant I am alone in the wilderness, looking around for the creature that made the sound. A thick fog rolls in, covering the ground so quickly that I’m disoriented. I can barely see the cliff behind me, the gray rocks fading in and out through the fog. I can’t see to the edge where the little stretch of land falls away to the river below. The ground just melts into the mist.

  The bright silver light flares next to me. Blake reappears, illuminated in silver. I want to touch him. I back away instead, my instincts recognizing my natural enemy even as my brain registers that it’s Blake.

  The growl is louder now, and much too close. I reach for any bit of magic, trying to call back the chill wind that blew earlier. The wind is long gone. I try again, focusing on the water that condenses in the fog, but the fog continues to churn around me with a mind of its own, so thick that I’m nearly blind. I stomp the ground, assuring myself that I am still in the here and now, not lost in the mists of magic. Not that there is any magic here for me. I’m on my own.

  I feel the beast’s approach before I see anything. Blake does too. His adrenaline combines with mine so that I’m even more anxious. He leans against me, urging me backward as a large shadow appears in front of us.

  I reach behind my back, searching for the solid wall of the cliff, not finding anything but empty air. In front of us, the fog dissipates enough for me to make out the silhouette of three massive heads pushing toward us. Not one, but three creatures. Blake pushes with all his weight, forcing me back faster as I try to get my bearings.

  My back hits the wall of the cliff hard, which

  momentarily knocks the breath out of me. I run my hands along the rock, feeling for the crevice that will take us back to the beach. Blake urges me to the left, and I continue to move as the shadowy figures draw closer.

  The three animals snap their teeth and all bark at once, in perfect unison. As they emerge more fully from the fog, I can just make out their features—three wire-haired wolfhounds, gray heads weaving and drooling in perfect synch.

  The
middle dog lunges forward, baring his teeth. It leaps at me with a speed that’s unexpected given the dog’s massive size. Blake braces himself against me, ready to take the bulk of the blow, his sword raised. I jump to the side, though there’s no way to avoid the massive creature. As I do, my hand and shoulder fall into a hollow gap. I throw my arms around Blake and pull him with me through the crevice. We land hard in the sand.

  I scramble to my feet, facing the cliff, waiting for the hounds to plunge through. Blake is already up, his jeweled sword in his hands. We stand like that for several minutes, our bodies frozen, our breath coming in shallow pants. The heavy, salty air blows around me and I breathe it in and out, letting it fill me with power. My arsenal is stocked and I itch to unleash it.

  The animals never cross over. Blake stalks forward, his sword raised. As he walks in front of me to investigate the cliff, my outstretched hand follows him, keeping him in my sights.

  Blake senses the shift in me. Tied as we are, it isn’t like we can sneak up on each other. He stops his examination of the cliff and turns to face me, his eyes flashing silver. “What are you waiting for?” It’s both a warning and a dare.

  It’s so much easier to see Blake for the killer he is as he stands bathed in light, the sharp sword raised. Every beautiful inch of him glows with dark power. His eyes are the eyes of a killer, one who’ll stop at nothing until the enemy is vanquished. His muscled body is designed for one purpose: to chase down and overpower the weak.

  But I am in no way weak. My survival instinct implores me to eliminate the danger, to take out the enemy. My eyes travel to the sharp blade in his hands, and I can’t help but recall the blood that flowed from Dart’s neck and throat. It should be enough. I should be able to let loose with a wall of fire.

  But there’s something else, something harder to grasp. Whether it’s the product of the bonding of our souls or something else, it stops me from pulling the trigger.

  Blake disappears in a burst of light. One second he’s there, poised to fight, and the next he’s gone.

  I blink, adjusting to the darkness now that the silver light is gone.