Haunted Blade (Colbana Files Book 6)

by J. C. Daniels

  I learned, though. At least I learned enough. They seemed to think I learned insanely fast, but it wouldn’t have impressed my aunts…my grandmother. And it definitely wasn’t enough to stay safe, because even though it had only been two days since I’d gotten off the island, I had to move—

  “Hey.”

  I jumped at the sound of Damon’s voice and lifted my head, staring at him in the doorway of the bathroom. He had somehow managed to lock down everything he was feeling and I only caught the vaguest hint of his presence, even as he came closer. He stopped a foot outside of the shower stall.

  “Want some company?” His gray eyes held mine.

  With a jerky shrug, I eased back away from the door, giving him room to come inside.

  He joined me a moment later, his clothes in a messy pile on the floor. “You never pick up after yourself,” I mumbled, leaning against him and absorbing his heat.

  “If I did, you’d have less distraction,” he said amicably.

  “So you’re messy just so I have something to bitch about. Nice.” Another shudder wracked me.

  “See how much I love you?” He boosted me up and pressed me to the wall. Then he just held me, staring into my eyes. “You’re a mess, Kit. What’s going on?”

  “It’s just…” Shaking my head, I closed my eyes. He was blocking the water but he was a better way to warm up than a hot shower anyway. “Too much of it is coming back, and all at once. I’d blocked out the lemera—or at least, I hadn’t let myself think about it.”

  “I can’t understand why you’d block that out.” He restlessly kneaded my hips, brushing a kiss across my brow. “Some undead spirit of your ancestors that actually has form and likes to eat things out of spite…nah, it’s not unpleasant at all. But avoidance isn’t going to help us figure out how to handle it now that’s here.”

  “You sum things up so nice, cat.” Curling my arms around him, I sighed. The memory of the ice was fading, bit by bit.

  “Why are you shivering? You’ve been acting like you’re freezing ever since your aunt showed up.” He chafed my skin with his hands, sending warmth coursing through me. “Are you…do we need to get her out of here? Or a more permanent solution?”

  I couldn’t tell if there was hope in his voice or not. It wouldn’t have surprised me though.

  “It’s not her. It’s just…memory.” Looking at him, I said, “We had a homeland, once. It was in Greece. According to the race’s legend, as it became clear that mankind was becoming the more dominant species, the earlier aneira decided they wanted to withdraw from the world. They’d send their best warriors out in order to bring in money…riches…I think it runs in the blood. We’ve always liked shiny things. Baubles and jewelry, gold and silver. And they didn’t want their legacy to fade into the nothing either. So the warriors still left to fight. But they didn’t want to be in the world—so they sought out someplace so remote, nobody would ever think to seek them out.”

  “That kind of place doesn’t exist in this day and age.”

  Steam choked the air now and I nudged him back. I couldn’t stay in here forever. I’d already scrubbed my hair, my skin, twice. “Water off,” I said, grabbing the heated towel hanging just outside the door.

  “I just got in here,” Damon said wryly.

  “I’m turning into a wrinkled prune.” As I wrapped up in the towel, I wasn’t surprised when he followed me out. I was the only reason he’d gone in there to begin with. “You’d be surprised how many places in the world are still fairly untouched by man.”

  “Fairly untouched and completely hidden are two different things.”

  “True.” I shivered, chilled again now that I’d left the heat of the shower—and him.

  He slung a towel around his hips and pulled me close.

  “They bargained with witches, traded services. Usually, it was the males of our line who’d go out into the world and make such deals. Witches would come visit the island, key up magics that would…hide…us from the world.”

  “Why men?” Damon frowned, but the confusion faded when I glanced up and met his eyes in the mirror.

  “Take a guess.”

  But he’d already done that. “They studded out their services.”

  “Yes. It wasn’t ever advertised, but the abilities aren’t as strong in the male DNA. The women did the same—but they weren’t exactly hiring out their services. They’d just go out into the world, find a suitable man of the desired power, and get pregnant. Then they’d come home. And the males of our race…the deal was struck that if the first child was a girl, she would come home with us and the man would…offer his services again.”

  “And everybody was okay with that—giving up their kids?” Damon demanded.

  “There are a few houses in Europe that are still rather used to the old ways. That’s one of them.” I wiped my hand over my lips, mouth dry, a knot lodged in my throat. “A male heir and all that.”

  “Witches were…acceptable progeny. Or at least that was determined as our numbers decreased. It…worked. For almost two thousand years, the aneira have made their home on an island in the North Atlantic. Most think it’s uninhabited, a small bit of land that is too inhospitable for habitation. But it’s not so small, and it’s definitely not some empty stretch of rock and sand.” Another shiver wracked me and I turned, leaning into him.

  “An island in the North Atlantic.” His arms tightened around me. “And when you left…you said you swam. Five miles.”

  “We were taught to swim in those waters from the time we were young children.”

  A growl escaped him. “You could have frozen. Drowned.”

  “No. It was miserable, but I’m not human enough for that.” But the cold had felt like it would stop my heart.

  “One day, Kit…one day.”

  He didn’t finish it, but he didn’t need to.

  “I don’t want to think about them anymore,” I said, turning my lips into his neck.

  He was rigid, even as I rose onto my toes and rubbed my mouth against his. But when I dragged my nails down his chest, scraped them over the flat circles of his nipples, then lower, a hard shudder racked him from head to toe.

  He caught my wrists and pulled them down.

  Slowly, he turned me around so that I faced the mirror.

  Coming up behind me, he smoothed his hands down my back, then sliding them around until he cupped my breasts in his hands. The tattoo of the clouded leopard that stretched across my skin there looked nearly alive now. Dropping my head back against him, I shivered, lids fluttering shut.

  “Watch,” he murmured against my ear.

  I had to force my eyes to stay open.

  Looking into the mirror, I watched as he toyed with one nipple, his other hand sliding down over my belly to cup me between the thighs.

  He bit my neck at the same time he speared one finger inside me.

  I moaned and gripped his forearm, reflexively rocking my hips against his hand.

  He growled in approval.

  The sound was like a velvet stroke against my senses and I tightened around him.

  “Don’t come,” he murmured against my skin. “Not yet.”

  “Then you’d better stop.”

  “Why would I do that?” He laughed and twisted his wrist, adding to the friction as he continued to pump his hand.

  He tugged on my nipple again.

  Teeth sought out and found the mark he’d put on me.

  Stroke.

  Tug.

  Bite.

  Over…and over…

  “Damon…” I couldn’t fight the pleasure that was swelling inside me, threatening to knock me flat.

  Rocking against his touch, almost feverish now, I lifted one arm and curled it around his neck, tugging him closer.

  He responded by grabbing my hips and moving in on me, his weight throwing me off balance. I slammed my hands forward onto the marble of the sink. And he slammed into me.

  I cried out, pleasure hitting hard and
fast.

  He tangled one hand in my hair, dragging my head up so we could still see each other. His eyes had gone green-gold, all animal…all cat. “Kit,” he rasped, his cock swelling inside me.

  Need, thick and heavy and sweet, swamped me.

  He twisted his hips, canted mine higher.

  Another hard thrust, the head of his cock scraping just there—

  The climax crashed into me and threw me under, knocking the breath right out of me.

  He growled, a wordless, raw sound of desire as he came with me.

  I barely heard it over the crash of blood pounding in my ears.

  I did, however, hear him cursing like a sailor a few seconds later.

  “What the ever-loving, blue fuck!”

  My feet on the floor, knees wobbling, I looked up at the mirror, confused.

  He grabbed a robe and threw it over my shoulders.

  “Somebody is going to die!” he bellowed.

  Because I was looking in the mirror, I was able to deduce one thing.

  He wasn’t talking to me.

  He was glaring in the direction of the door.

  Okay…so…shit.

  I moaned, embarrassment flooding me.

  Damon rubbed my back. His cheeks were flushed red, but I doubted he was blushing. No, he was pissed off.

  A low voice reached us.

  Scott.

  “Damon, Kit…I…please, forgive me. You…please. This can’t wait.”

  Damon gave me a look of complete and utter fury, although, I knew it wasn’t because of me. “Anything can wait a few minutes, Scott!”

  “It’s about Jude Whittier.”

  Once more my knees wobbled. I locked my elbows to keep from collapsing right there.

  Damon, for once, looked too stunned to speak.

  Then, slowly, he turned to me. “We should get dressed,” he said quietly.

  I just nodded. Numb.

  I turned to the shower and stiffly, I climbed back in.

  He didn’t join me this time.

  But he didn’t leave the bathroom until I climbed back out, either.

  Jude. Jude Whittier.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Scott had very little news for us.

  There was a caucus being held—the Assembly had called for it and as it involved Jude Whittier, they’d offered me the courtesy of informing me.

  The courtesy.

  I wanted to tell them all to eat parasite-infested vermin and fuck off.

  We were climbing into the car when Rana came striding out. I recognized the cloak she was pulling on—she’d worn it months earlier when she’d approached me, hiding her identity.

  Damon hesitated at the sight of her, watching as she wrapped the headscarf around her, concealing her hair and face, tucking other ties in to conceal her leathers.

  “What are you doing?”

  Her eyes flicked from me to Doyle, then to Scott before she met Damon’s eyes. “I heard a name. Did you really think I’d stay away?”

  “You weren’t invited.”

  She laughed, the sound muffled by the robe—altered somehow, too. That was part of the disguise, part of why I hadn’t recognized her.

  “I don’t need an invite from you. I can walk into the Assembly as I am and request permission to attend—but that links Kitasa to me. Is that what you want?” Only her eyes showed now and the cool amusement there held both confidence and a hint of arrogance.

  Damon continued to glare at her.

  She leaned in, intruding on his space in a direct challenge.

  Damon inclined his head.

  Sucking in a breath, I braced myself. I wasn’t ready for the two of them to go at each other. As much turmoil as I felt toward my aunt, she was a connection I had to the only part of my past that I didn’t hate—my mother.

  “There is one thing you need to understand. I have no allegiance to Fanis. I would die for my people, but until they are ready to stand up to a sick and faltering queen, I cannot help them. However…Kitasa is a different story. I made a promise to my sister, her mother. I’ll cross through hell and back to protect her. I’ve been doing everything in my power to keep her alive and I’ve been doing it since before you even knew she existed. You will not get in my way.”

  Damon reached up, lazily scraped his short nails down his stubbled jaw.

  That casual action didn’t deceive me.

  And when he lashed out, moving quicker than my eyes could track, my heart stopped.

  But Rana saw it.

  I saw the blur of his movement—and the blur of silver as she pulled a knife.

  I stepped forward.

  But I only made the one step because both Chang and Scott crowded around me, hands locking gently, but firmly around my upper arms.

  Rana stood there, a silver knife pressed to Damon’s throat.

  All around us, shifters stood tense and ready to attack.

  Damon held up a lock of hair—Rana’s. It had escaped her notice as she was tucking the thick, heavy mess inside her headscarf. “I can tell you mean what you say,” he said, unperturbed by the knife she held. “I’m going to let you do what you think you need to do, because I’ve seen you fight and I know who taught her. She needs every strong hand at her side that’s willing to fight—she deserves that.”

  A split second later, he moved again and there was a brief struggle, this time, one that I managed to keep up.

  He disarmed her, but not for long.

  The smaller knife she’d pressed to his throat was replaced by another one—a longer one that was almost a short sword. In her other hand, she had the blade she carried when she went into battle.

  Shit.

  “Damon,” I said in a low voice. “Please.”

  He didn’t even look at me.

  “I’m the one who’s there at night when the nightmares come. You, your fucked-up bitch of a mother, your sisters…all of you…you’re why she has so many of those nightmares. You’re here because I believe what you say about the choices you had to make, that you did what you think you had to in order to keep her safe in what was apparently a den of rabid lions. But you did a shitty job of it—you should have just gotten her away from the lions. She might be ready to accept having you around and if that makes her happy, I’ll deal. But I fight a battle every time I see you and when you walk away still breathing, it’s because I love her more than I hate you.”

  He tossed the knife up and caught it by the blade, holding it out to her.

  Rana banished her other weapons and took the blade slowly, lifted her chin in acknowledgment.

  “Understood…Alpha,” she said.

  My heart started to beat again.

  As Damon turned toward me, she spoke again. “But one thing you don’t understand about those rabid lions…they can hunt. They can track. These aren’t the sort of animals one might see in a zoo in this world. You’ll figure that out soon enough.”

  Then she dismissed us all, tucking the knife into some hidden place in her leathers before returning to the adjustments on her cloak.

  It was like the past two minutes hadn’t happened.

  Damon met my eyes.

  Chang and Scott let me go.

  Shuddering, I covered my face with my hands and turned toward the waiting car. Behind me, I heard Damon speak.

  “Rana, you follow Scott’s lead. If you’re going with me, then you’re a member of my unit and you will follow orders and instruction.”

  Instead of waiting to see how she took that, I climbed into the car.

  Damon slid in a moment later and the door slammed shut behind him.

  “How pissed off are you?” he asked, leaning into the padded seat cushion without looking at me.

  In the front seat, one of his enforcers sat waiting for the order to drive and although I knew he could hear us, he was dutifully tuning us out.

  “I’m not sure pissed is the word I’d use. And…” Shaking my head, I looked out the window. I could just barely see the othe
rs in the sideview mirror as they climbed into another car behind us. “I don’t want to talk about it now.”

  Damon stayed quiet.

  A few minutes later, we were rolling through the streets and I kept my attention on the familiar sights of the businesses, the sidewalks. Everything looked…empty.

  “Where is everybody?” I asked softly.

  It had only been a few short days since I’d been out here, walking to the tea shop for a quick cup and a pastry, or hopping into my car for a job across town. Just days ago, everything had been humming with life.

  Now those busy streets were practically vacant.

  East Orlando looked like a ghost town.

  “I pulled my people in,” Damon said quietly. “Last night was…rough. More ferals got out. I had teams already on the streets. Dair did, too. We took care of them before the Assembly or Banner had to interfere, but the way things are going…we’ve got a curfew up. Most of the families moved into the Lair or are staying at the rec club. There are a few other fortified facilities, too. I had to send out groups and bring some in under…well, we’ll say they came under duress. But they’ll be alive when this is done.”

  I nodded. “Alive is good.” I hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Where are all of the ferals coming from?”

  “Outside.”

  The curt answer finally had me looking at him.

  He slanted a look at me. “Maxine and Icarus are keeping in contact as much as they can. Their people are running interference and trying to get control over as many as they can, but a lot of the vamps aren’t even from around here, they’re telling me.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  Damon looked away.

  “According to Assembly scholars, it makes perfect sense. Explains the mess in South Carolina, too. Unleashed vamps are drawn to chaos and vamps have some limited psychic ability. Probably a survival instinct, like sharks scenting blood in the water.” He jerked up a big shoulder in a shrug, still staring outside. “Some of the vamps that were put down…Icarus says one of his specialists believes they might have gotten out of Carolina and come down here, drawn by the power struggle.”

  “Why would he think that?”