TravelersKiss

by Sherri L. King

  She could see it all. Everything. He let her see it, like a confession.

  Raine blanched. “That’s sick.” She swallowed hard.

  “I had thought that supplanting Litha’s soul in your form would be a blessing to you—releasing your spirit so that it could fly free to join your love in the afterlife. I had since rejected the notion, even before I learned that Grimm still lived—you can see that plainly. I find myself unwilling to harm you, Raine.”

  His words did nothing to reassure her. “You were going to rip my soul from my body and put another in its place,” she said weakly, reeling.

  “I did not act upon it.” He blinked owlishly, as if he were bemused by her reaction. Then understanding lit his face and he granted her a smile that made her skin cold, despite its angelic beauty. “Ah. I see—you require an act of contrition in order to get past this, what you view as an offense against your ego and self-worth. Of course, and quite right too. So we will proceed with the original sentiment in my plan—we will destroy the Leviathan. Will this appease you?”

  “You’re damn right we’re going to destroy her,” Raine spat. “Fuck, Daemon, get your head straight. She’s going to break reality if we don’t stop her, don’t you understand that?”

  “Raine—”

  “Shut up!” Her voice cracked with the violence of her shout. She felt time passing on winged feet, so fast she grew afraid. Grimm needed her. “I want you to listen to me like you have never listened to anyone in your life. We’re going to stop this bitch, end all this suffering, cease all this bloody, mindless killing once and for all. You’re going to help me do this, all the way, or I swear to God there is no cave too deep for you to crawl into where I can’t find you, Daemon. You do not want to test how loud I can scream inside your head, trust me on this. You will never find peace. We can end this now, or a whole new world of suffering begins for you. It’s your choice.”

  Daemon tossed her hands away, not wanting to feel her fragile bones in his grasp lest he break them in a fit of raw, untamed emotion.

  He sat back and scowled. He hated what Raine was making him feel. But damn her beautiful eyes, she was more than he’d bargained for. He realized how blind he’d let himself be in his bid for one last attempt at controlling…what? He didn’t even know anymore.

  He’d lost control of this situation long ago, before Raine, but she had been the one to make him see his folly and it rankled. Raine, wild in her rage, was beyond his ability to predict. It amazed him that she had the courage to stand up to him so fearlessly, especially after the darkness he’d shown her in his heart. They both knew he could end her with but a wave of his hand, yet here she was threatening him. It stirred something inside Daemon’s cavernous soul that both thrilled and frightened.

  In his brilliant mind, he couldn’t help replaying the last meeting between him and his brother. Tryton had been wrong about so many things, but he’d erred about one thing in particular that stung most horribly in this moment. Tryton had told him that there was no love in his heart.

  Tryton had said his heart had bled out long ago. He was wrong. Daemon’s heart bled now. It gushed a mortal flow. There was only one way this farce could play out…

  He stared Raine down, eyed the cord that bound them and knew what must be done. He knew what she planned. Knew it wouldn’t work—he wouldn’t let it. He had his own plans. He loosened his hold on her. “If you’re done posturing, I think now would be a good time to join the fray.”

  Raine pursed her lips, closed her fingers around his hand and without further preamble, she slid sideways from one dimension to another, straight into the chaos of the Gray Land, without a thought for what might be waiting when they arrived.

  Daemon kept one careful, calculating eye on her, waiting for the ideal opportunity to make his move…

  * * * * *

  Obsidian felt the ripple in his center when Raine entered the vortex of chaos that had taken hold of the Gray Land in a punishing grip. He turned and saw her across an expanse of fighting warriors as they struggled to take down a rabid Cankor Worm, but it wasn’t the sight of her that gave him pause, it was the one who followed in her wake.

  Daemon. He felt his lips curl around a snarl.

  Raine’s head snapped up and her gaze locked with his. She was no more immune to their tie than he was—this had always been a strange comfort to him—and he used it now to convey his outrage at her incredibly poor choice of allies to bring to this battle.

  But hadn’t she said she was off to “gather the right weapons to see this war to its final end”? Obsidian was spiritually bound to trust in Raine, but more than that, over these past years of knowing her mind and heart, of seeing the courage and hope she evinced despite all she had suffered and endured, he had come to trust her beyond the demands of any metaphysical link. If Raine had brought the trickster into their midst, then she had her reasons and they were no doubt sound.

  Obsidian wanted to believe in her…but why Daemon?

  “Cady!” he shouted into the fray, the air dampening the sound.

  Despite their numbers and their fury, the Shikar army hadn’t even drawn close to the Leviathan yet. He dreaded what was to come when they did and there was still no sign of Grimm. Obsidian had not dared to dwell on what that might mean. He’d not dwelled on much since arriving in this most alien of landscapes—he had traipsed in foreign lands but never in a place as strange as this one. The ground beneath his feet and the air in his lungs were anathemas he felt all the way down in his bones and from the very first second he’d arrived, he’d known an instinctive urge to flee, as if the realm itself was aware—alive—and did not welcome him here.

  “Cady!” he called again, knowing his mate was never far from his side and that she would hear him through the din somehow, someway.

  She did not disappoint, appearing through the ash and smoke like a war goddess. “’Sup, babe?” She was hardly winded, though he’d seen her bring down two Worms already. His woman was an amazing creature—he was the luckiest warrior in all creation.

  “Raine is here.” He took her hand in his and they broke into a run.

  It was a gantlet, a dodging of flying foils, growling Worms and searing flame. There were thousands of Shikar warriors fighting to free their world and save Grimm, all of them valiant and dedicated to giving everything—including their lives—in order to shut the door on this war that had raged far longer than any of them had been alive.

  Save Daemon and Tryton. They had been here from the start. They had been the catalysts that began the fighting, the matches that lit the fuse to the fire of the longest, grisliest war on the planet.

  Coming to a sliding halt in front of Daemon now, it was all Obsidian could do to keep from running the monster through with his foils. He felt his blades shoot out from every bone in his arms, saw the bright, electric-blue glow out of the corners of his eyes as it reflected off the floating ash in the air, and he trembled with the monumental effort it took to keep from striking out with all the rage and fury of his people.

  Cady growled at Daemon. “Mamabicho,” she spat. Cocksucker.

  Daemon merely blinked at her, unfazed by the naked hatred in her voice.

  Raine shook her head, warning Cady with her eyes not to do anything rash.

  “Sid.” Cady’s voice was soft now, just for him, and for once it was not cocky or flippant or sassy. She was all empathy for his suffering, for only she knew what he had been through on account of this creature before them. He had been bred to violence, born into struggle and strife—as had every one of his kinsman—because of Daemon. Obsidian had died and been reborn because of a domino effect of actions this selfish creature had taken…and for what?

  “Sid, it’s okay. It might be over soon, forever, if you can just hold on. Please, can you do that?”

  Obsidian felt something stir the cord that connected him with Raine and a cool, gentle calm that was not his own washed through his nerves. His foils retracted back into his skin, resti
ng along his bones in their home, though he’d not willfully pulled them back—Raine had soothed the savagery heating his blood.

  “He’s going to help us.” Raine’s gaze slid from Obsidian to Daemon, and Obsidian couldn’t stomach the surety he saw buried there in the swirling colors of her eyes. He knew that assured trust was misplaced and he feared for her—there could be no trusting a creature like the one who stood at her side, no matter what deal they’d struck between them.

  “Aren’t you, Daemon—helping us?” Raine reiterated.

  Daemon said nothing. He stepped forward until he was toe-to-toe with Obsidian and then he did something that stunned them all. He reached out and took hold of the invisible cord that extended between Sid’s and Raine’s hearts, binding their life energies, and wound it around his hand like a rope.

  A halo of light pulsed and grew bright where it twisted around his clenched fist.

  Raine surged forward with a cry. “No, what are you doing!”

  Daemon threw out his arm and held her off with a hand on her chest…right where the cord entered her heart.

  The light flickered along the length, brightest still around Daemon’s fist.

  Obsidian gasped, his strength flagging suddenly, his knees turning to water in his legs. He sagged against Cady, who caught him with a desperate, confused cry.

  “What’s happening?” She was the only one of them who could not see the cord. “What are you doing to him, you bastard? I’ll kill you!”

  “Daemon, stop it, that’s enough!” Raine tried to call up a sandstorm, lift a boulder, open the ground beneath his feet—anything to stop him—but Daemon’s hand over her heart was doing something to her, interrupting her ability to call on the element of Earth. She screamed at him in impotent rage while Obsidian gasped a wordless cry that was alarmingly weaker than the one that had come before.

  A brighter flare of light in Daemon’s fist blinded Raine and she reared back as it exploded. Sightless, she could only guess at what happened when she heard the roar of pain wrench forth from Sid’s lips. The light disappeared and spots danced before her eyes. She heard Sid collapse to the ground, heard Cady say his name over and over, and terrible thoughts raced through her mind. Raine blinked furiously, digging her nails into Daemon’s arm to hold him there, thinking he might disappear, flee, but he stayed, he never even tried to run, and she feared the worst.

  Then she heard the sweetest music she could have hoped to hear in that moment—Sid spoke.

  “What the fuck did you do to me?” Obsidian wheezed, rubbing his chest. Cady grabbed him, helping him keep his feet.

  “I relieved you of your bondage,” he said, and hearing his voice when he spoke to Sid, Raine realized he spoke differently when he spoke to her. Here, among other people, he sounded cold and metallic, while with her there was a mournful tone, a different melody in his voice—not quite warmth, but not this frightening, dangerous music at play either. She wondered at it, at what it could possibly mean.

  “Now thank me,” Daemon commanded imperiously.

  Obsidian appeared dumbfounded by this.

  Raine searched herself for the tie that had connected her to Obsidian for so long and found that it was indeed gone. With something like desperation, she delved into the void that was left behind but no trace of him remained. It was a bittersweet loss Raine felt then—she was happy for Sid, but it still hurt to lose that tie and that was something she had never expected to feel with the severing of a cord.

  “Thank you.” Obsidian seemed surprised to hear those words leaving his mouth, and he blinked, a puzzled look on his face. He appeared as lost as Raine felt and she wished she could comfort him. But those days were gone. Cady held him now, as was right, offering him succor and support.

  Raine realized something, too late. “I-I don’t understand, Daemon. You should have sent his life force into me. I don’t feel any stronger. What did you do with it?”

  Daemon said nothing, only met her gaze with steady silence, letting the hand he’d been holding over her heart fall and grasping the one she still had digging into his arm. He extricated it with a strength she could have never hoped to fight against, even had she wanted to. Instead of letting go of her hand, however, he threaded his fingers with hers.

  “Don’t let go,” he instructed, his voice soft once again, his words quiet and for her ears alone.

  * * * * *

  Obsidian, dazed by all that had transpired, watched them depart. For a second he debated following in their wake as they Traveled between the skirmishes taking place all around them, all the smaller wars that led to the penultimate battle ahead, but he was so wearied he knew it would be an effort in futility. He couldn’t have Traveled ten feet in front of him if he tried. Instead, he watched them disappear into the dense ash fall.

  He turned and took his wife’s hands in his. He saw the worry and fear in her bright eyes. “It is finished. No matter what happens here, I am free now.”

  Tears like diamonds sharpened the glitter of her gaze, but she was nothing if not a fighter. She would not give up on him, ever. “You’re weakened, you can barely stand straight. C’mon, Sid. We have to find cover.” She put herself under his arm and hefted his weight, almost dragging him to a lumbering pile of debris that might have once been a great tree but was now a looming darkness covered in layers of gray and black soot.

  Cady pulled a canteen from a sleek, fitted pack she wore on her back and gave him some water. “What the hell did he do to you, babe?”

  “He severed the cord that tied me to Raine. He erased our bond.”

  “How?” Her scowl did nothing to hide the worry in her eyes. “How did he do that? I thought one of you had to die for that to happen. How could Daemon do that—no, scratch that, the question is why would he do that? What purpose would it serve him, because you know he wouldn’t just show up out of the blue to do you any favors, right? So why did he do it?”

  Obsidian swallowed more water and struggled to think clearly. His head was a storm of emotion—it wasn’t at all like him to think with his heart at a time like this—and he could barely wrap his head around what had just occurred.

  Why? Yes, that was the real concern.

  “You said yourself he does nothing that does not serve him. Raine remarked that she did not feel stronger after our bond was severed—is that because I am still alive and there was no life force for her to absorb?” His thoughts reeled. “Or is it something else…?”

  Then questions didn’t matter as they were forced to shrink back beneath the lee of their shelter as the distant roar of the Leviathan rocketed through the air and a sonic blast turned the world to riotous confusion.

  Precious seconds were lost…

  The world righted itself and a pressing urgency spurred him into action. He struggled to his feet in the wake of the blast, unable to do more than gawk at the hundreds of warriors strewn across the battlefield who were also doing the same, having been knocked to the ground by the awesome power of the sound wave.

  Cady put her hands on his shoulders. She was dazed but still full of fight, too stubborn to relent even now. “What are you doing? You’ll be no good in battle in this condition. Stay down for fuck’s sake!”

  “I must find Tryton.”

  Obsidian knew it was imperative that he find The Elder immediately. He may be their only hope now. When he saw no sight of their friend amidst the chaos surrounding them, he turned to his mate, shouting feverishly, “Cady, we need him. Now think, where did you last see Tryton?”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Daemon’s method of Travel was fluid and seamless, far different than she would have imagined. It was a floating, drifting, swimming jaunt across the length of the battlefield that drew them ever closer to the mountain in the distance that was the central mass of the Leviathan. Raine envisioned a bubble wrapped around them that was separate from time itself, and held her breath reflexively as if oxygen could not exist within this singular space.

  The bu
bble popped, Daemon came to a halt and Raine could breathe once more. She still held his hand as he’d commanded and she’d never once thought to let go—it was unlike her to blindly follow without question, but it had come naturally on this occasion and that unnerved her. Now, when she might have put some distance between them, he tightened his hold on her and pulled her closer to his side. But this did not alarm her senses as it should have. Instead it gave her a measure of comfort here in the midst of all the chaos that raged about them.

  The noise of war, the horrible music of the dying, was a torture to hear. Of everything she’d learned in the media during her life as a human, of all the fighting and war across the globe that graced the news networks every day, never once had Raine seen or read anything about the terrible soundtrack of war. It was just as scarring and traumatic as the images themselves, and she realized that no one could ever understand the horrors of battle unless they had lived through it firsthand—it was a rape, an attempted murder of all the senses. It left permanent scars all their own.

  “Will Obsidian be all right?” she asked Daemon as soon as she recovered the ability to speak.

  “You shouldn’t worry about him.” His eyes scanned the distance between them and their destination.

  “That wasn’t our arrangement, Daemon. I need all the energy I can get if this is going to work—”

  “Shut up, Raine.” Despite the harshness of his command, his tone was soft enough that she almost missed it. “Our arrangement still stands. The Leviathan will be destroyed.”

  Raine pursed her lips, but she had no time to vent her mounting frustration. Through the ash and smoke, a shadow grew and descended upon them. There was only time for her to cringe away as the Cankor Worm flew into view—

  Daemon was faster, however. With a casual motion of his free hand, he obliterated the Worm and it fell upon them not as a solid mass but as stinging sand.

  A group of Shikar warriors ran up to meet them. One of them spoke, his face covered in grime and blood. “Our apologies—we did not see you appear before we had launched the Worm through the air, Elder.”