Insatiable (The Curse of Avalon Book 3)

by Sariah Skye

  I gawked. “No shit? Did you really just summon snowflakes like Elsa?”

  Xander bobbed a shoulder, wiggling his fingers as the ice ball grew larger. His other hand hovered over it, and with a sharp gesture the ball turned into thousands of tiny snowflakes—honest to god snowflakes—and he thrust the cold and ice directly at the door lock, careful not to hit the glass.

  Mathias jarred the doors again, and with a click, they opened. Xander had shattered the lock with ice and snow.

  “Shit. That’s pretty fucking impressive.” Rhys had his arms crossed over his chest, nodding slightly in approval.

  Xander shrugged modestly. “Just a simple tumbler lock; easy peasy.”

  “You’re a Chinese Elsa.” I snorted at the thought, trying actively not to picture him with a blonde wig and a pretty blue dress. Instead I just started humming “Let It Go”, and he glowered at me.

  “Stop. Or I’ll stick my hands under your shirt, and you’ll see how much fun snowstorm magic is.” His eyes darkened briefly at the notion, and I shot him a flirty look.

  “Enough flirting,” Bash ordered. Trystan and Mathias had already passed through as I was teasing Xander and he scowled; Bash urged me inside.

  We entered a decent sized atrium, with hallways splitting off to various places, restrooms, and a gift shop.

  “Any idea if there are cameras in here, Sebastian?” Mathias inquired, as we glanced around.

  “Don’t think so, but this should help nonetheless.” Bash produced a tied black bag from his sock, gripped at something, and tossed a handful of black powder on the ground. It sizzled and hissed like smoke, and rose higher, blocking the ceiling from view. I stared at him again for like, the umpteenth time so far tonight in awe. He smiled modestly. “Blackout powder.”

  “How the fuck do you get ideas for this shit?” I asked.

  His lips twisted into a devious grin. “I’m really twisted up here, that’s how,” he said, pointing to his temple.

  Mathias grumbled audibly. “Accolades later. Where the hell do we go?”

  “Right. I think it’s through here.” Bash motioned passed a handful of various artifactual displays and photos, dropping handfuls of the bizarre black powder along the way, to a very, very simple display of a slab of rock on an iron stand, underneath a glass case.

  I stared skeptically, the skin puckering between my eyes. “That is it? This is the whole thing? Shouldn’t it be… bigger?” I questioned, looking around at all the other various displays; ancient weapons under glass, photos… but nothing else that looked like it could be part of what I thought was missing.

  Mathias snorted. “Oh this will be easy. Why did I think it was so huge?” We looked at each other and shrugged.

  “The photos make it look that way,” Bash said with indifference, seeming to size up the display, calculating in his mind.

  I laughed shortly. “Obviously photos taken by dudes.” Rhys glanced blankly at me. “Because guys tend to over exaggerate the sizes of things.” He put his fingers to his mouth and snickered.

  “Seriously, Ava? Is this the best time for the joking?” Mathias looked darkly at me.

  “I’m sorry! The more uncomfortable I am, the more I joke! I can’t help it! It’s either that or pee my pants, okay?” I protested.

  “Well, let’s not do that. But we need to be on guard; Nimue could be around here anywhere.” Xander was intently eyeing everything suspiciously.

  “Besides, I do not need to exaggerate,” Mathias spoke, so quietly he could barely be heard, flashing me a gentle wink.

  “Does there appear to be any… alarms or anything under it? Are we going to have to Raiders of the Lost Ark it, or anything?” Trystan inquired, scratching his head.

  Bash frowned. “I don’t think so. Until recently this whole thing was seen as a total hoax; it’s only been the past few years anyone has really taken it seriously. I’m still pissed I didn’t think of it sooner.”

  “Are ye sure this is right, though?” Xander asked, eyeing a display of ancient Viking axes, worn and rusted from time and the elements. “Vikings? Isn’t the whole Avalon/Camelot thing British?”

  “People evolve, things change. My theory is,” Bash said, slowly walking around the display, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he eyed it, “that whoever left this was probably the descendants or friends of the descendants of the original group that took it into hiding. They buried it here for safekeeping or otherwise in 1362,” he said, pointing at the iron placard in front, “and it remained there until 1898. You can read it, though, right?”

  “To summon Avalon…” Rhys and I both spoke in Avalonian. It was only the top line that was legible; the rest were worn Norse runes.

  “Good. Can you read any more? I’m assuming the actual spell is hidden under what whoever it was who made this chiseled onto it to tell their story; throw people off. So there has to be more, right?” Bash asked. I nodded my head to Rhys and we slowly walked around to the other side. Strange rune characters were carved into the back, the top, sides… everywhere. But hardly any of it was legible to us.

  “Wait. This says… Camelot?” Rhys was concentrating on a spot towards the middle of the back. I rushed over to him to confirm, and after a moment of concentration the word Camelot came into display.

  “Look,” I pointed. “This says… something about… youth and… immortality?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “But, no spell yet?” Bash sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I wonder how it’s activated?” With a collective sigh, Rhys and I shrugged.

  “Och, being here makes me nervous. Let’s get this damn thing out of here and get home,” Trystan said uneasily. “Like some evil fae bitch is going to jump out at us at any time.”

  “You’re… nervous?” Xander swallowed, turning his free hand open and summoning sparks of lightning. Slowly, he lifted his shirt with his empty hand, grabbing for a shiv strapped stealthily to his chest.

  “Aye…” Trystan unsheathed a larger knife he held under his sweatshirt.

  “What’s the big deal?” Rhys whispered to me.

  “As an eagle shifter, he has a sixth sense at possible danger; it’s an animal thing,” Bash replied quietly. “It’s only been recently he’s been able to tap into it again.”

  “Shit.” Very slowly, I gently lifted my shirts, and drew Excalibur from the holster around my ribs. Lifting it into the air effortlessly, it activated, shimmering with a gold haze into a sword once again, complete with runes.

  “Look!” Bash pointed at the stone. The golden haze and mist emanating off the sword started to seek out the stone, and the writing on the front started to morph and change, swirling and spinning until the stone turned into something else entirely.

  “Holy. Fucking. Balls,” I said in awe. In place of the crude stone writing was now a beautiful script in Avalonian in gold, that seemed to shimmer instead of being ingrained in the stone; like it was floating. It certainly didn’t seem like enough words to be an entire spell.

  “I think it’s like the same magic as the Round Table; hidden in a normal object. Wow…” Rhys was impressed. “This is some serious magic.”

  Trystan jumped, and Rhys and I both gulped. I grabbed his hand; the guys were all sporting weapons and looking fierce.

  “What?” I squeaked, both entranced by the stone, and terrified of what was out there.

  Trystan relaxed his shoulders. “Just an overreaction, I guess. I don’t see anything.”

  “That might not necessarily mean anything; the shadow fae are called shadow fae for a reason,” Rhys said morosely.

  “That doesn’t make me feel better!” I hissed.

  Mathias lowered his weapon, turning to me. “Is this the right thing, for sure? Can you read the spell?”

  I tilted my head to the side, carefully eyeing it. “I’m… not sure. It still says, ‘to summon Avalon’ and ‘to find the kingdom of Camelot’ but… that’s basically it.”

  “Maybe you need to
ask it nicely,” Xander said, rolling his eyes bitterly.

  “Wait. Maybe you do,” Bash said. “Try it, Avie.”

  Sighing lightly, I leaned over to be closer to the “stone” and spoke, knocking on the glass gently, feeling generally like an ass. “Um, hey, stone? Can you show me the Avalon spell?”

  Nothing. The gold didn’t budge.

  “So much for that.”

  “Not so fast,” Rhys scolded. “Try in Avalonian.”

  “Oh. Duh.” I spoke the question again, “Please show me the spell to summon Avalon,” in what I hoped was Avalonian, but in my head it sounded just like English. I squinted as a bright flash of light shot from the tablet, before subsiding, twisting into another set of words. “‘To summon the isle, you will need, the life force and blood of loyal three. Take this stone upon the ground, where the isle is to be found.’ Catchy.”

  “That’s it?” Bash asked.

  “No… not quite. ‘If your soul is genuine and heart pure, you will walk along the isle, once and evermore.’” I cringed. “That is a bit scary.”

  “That’s just to assure that it’s someone with a connection to the isle, to prevent it from being summoned by the wrong people,” Rhys said. “Is that it? That sounds too easy.”

  “Well consider that you have to find three people with magic attributed to Avalon… where else are you going to find that? That’s probably generally next to impossible…” Bash rubbed his temples. “Almost like… there was some sort of plan or prophecy.”

  “Can we just take the bloody thing and leave?” Trystan asked uncomfortably. “We can figure it out later.”

  “Don’t suppose anyone packed a screwdriver?” Mathias grumbled, trying to lift the display glass off; it was sealed. Without breaking it, it wasn’t budging.

  “Don’t need one.” Xander summoned a streak of lightning in his hand and placed the other over it, pulling it apart slowly, urging it to grow. No thunder or wind this time, just the crackle of electric lightning. He flexed his arms tightly, and the bolt grew brighter, stronger. With a swift motion he opened one palm, and the lightning concentrated into an intense mass, he used his other palm to push it forward, concentrating the energy at the base of the glass, effectively turning it into a blowtorch or saw.

  “Fucking incredible!” I said, quietly awed, not wanting to break his concentration. Rhys nudged me excitedly at the incredible display of magic. Xander just shrugged nonchalantly but his smug, sideways grin told another story; he was pleased with the praise.

  When the glass was completely cut, Mathias lifted it off with no effort; we all stood there on bated breath, praying it wouldn’t drop or trigger some sort of alarm. Carefully, he set it on the ground beside him and we all sighed in relief.

  “I can’t believe it’s that easy,” Bash muttered, shaking his head.

  “Get the damn thing, let’s go!” Trystan barked.

  “We need a decoy!” Bash said. He poked Rhys. “Can you teleport me out into that giftshop we saw? There were plastic replica things there. I can use that for my spell.”

  “Right on.” Rhys held out his arm, and Bash grabbed it. In a flash, they were gone.

  “You can lift that, right?” I asked Mathias. He snorted.

  “Of course I can.” He poised himself before the stone, hands on either side, and lifted it into his arms. “The question is, how are we going to get it out of here without attracting attention.”

  “I’ll have to shield you. Bash can help, hopefully, if he can figure it out,” I said, willing Excalibur into a knife again and hiding it under my shirts.

  “Good a plan as any,” he agreed. A popping sound announced that Bash and Rhys returned, Bash had the cheesy knick-knack in his arms and set it carefully in the iron holder. He pulled a white crystal out of his pocket, a vial from his sock, and dipped the small crystal into the vial, saturating it with a reflective silver liquid. “Over there with that,” he instructed Mathias, and he waved the crystal over the stone several times. He nodded at the gladiator, set the crystal carefully under the stand, and poured the remainder of the vial all over the decoy. Slowly, like watching a Polaroid photo, the decoy shifted into a much more accurate version of the runestone.

  “Nice work, man,” Rhys praised, and Bash nodded appreciatively at him.

  “Och, there is something not right. I’m going to get out of here and fly around and see if I find something.” Trystan shivered.

  “Have Rhys teleport you, no sense in crashing into anything or accidentally setting something off we don’t realize,” Bash said.

  “Aye,” Trystan said begrudgingly. “But if you can teleport—”

  “I can only do one at a time, maybe two. It was quicker to break in,” Rhys said, knowing exactly what he was going to say.

  “Fine. And don’t look at me arse, hear me?” Trystan narrowed his eyes.

  “I make no promises.” Growling, Trystan reluctantly took Rhys’ arm and they left with a pop.

  “All right let’s get this covered and get the fuck out of here.” Mathias set the stone down momentarily and lifted the glass back on the display; nothing looked like it ever was out of place.

  “Ava, you ready?” he asked, lifting up the stone again, and I nodded. I slipped my arm in through the crook of his elbow, ready to shield us when we emerged.

  “I still can’t believe that was it; it’s too good to be true,” Bash said under his breath, and shrugged. “What do I know?”

  We quickly hustled out of the museum, not able to get out of there fast enough. The lock would remain broken unfortunately, but unless they looked really, really carefully, they wouldn’t know anything was out of place.

  I felt the magic beat in my mind and brought it forward, feeling it through my appendages, and mentally extended it out around Mathias and I just before emerged onto the street, right behind Bash and Xander. The door had almost shut back on us, but I hip-checked it open and we passed through easily.

  There was a light clicking sound of the door shutting… followed by a loud, screeching piercing sound.

  “Shit!” Bash exclaimed. “We triggered an alarm somehow!”

  “Just fucking run, Mathias… who cares if we’re seen!” Xander said, panicked.

  “Meet you at the car!” Without waiting for confirmation, Mathias took a breath and in a streak of motion he was already down the block with his super-speed.

  Rhys waved a hand; he was standing around the corner of the building, trying to remain inconspicuous. We dashed up to him, and I grabbed the fistful of Trystan’s clothing he must have given to him for safe keeping.

  “Take Ava!” Bash instructed him, and Rhys reached out for my arm.

  “No, I don’t want to—” The sound of the alarm was piercing and loud, but the sound of the police cars in the distance was terrifying. I didn’t get a chance to protest as Rhys whisked me away with a pop and in a blink, we were back in the parking lot down the road.

  The second we blinked in, we felt a force of unknown energy, and were knocked flat on our asses, skidding across the pavement. I felt a burning sensation as my leggings were scraped away and the concrete dug into my flesh. I squealed in pain when I finally came to a stop, feeling woozy from the impact, stars blinking across my vision.

  “Ava?” Rhys muttered quietly. I heard him nearby, but I couldn’t see him until I blinked a couple of times, rubbing the daze from my sight.

  Shaking my head, I groggily rose to my knees, trying to block the spinning. Everything around was still a dark blue, but I could barely make out Rhys’ profile.

  “Ava… please…” he uttered in a small voice.

  I finally was able to pull myself to my feet and stand. Rubbing my eyes with my fists, everything came into view.

  There was Rhys, bound with what only could be described as living shadow; it was so dark it was barely visible, and it swirled around him like a black tornado.

  “Hello, daughter of Lancelot. You fucking bitch.”

  The voice…r />
  Her silhouette nearly blended in with the dark, but slowly she flickered into view.

  I glowered instantly.

  “Hello… Nimue.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Nadina—Nimue—my father’s hopefully ex-bitch of a girlfriend stood before me in the parking lot. She looked the same as I remembered, except… dark. Soulless. There was something about her; the empty void in her dark eyes, the flat black of her hair… this was clearly no normal damn fae.

  “So, you figured it out, finally.” Nimue grinned evilly, flashing a set of unusually white teeth; starkly contrasting against the dark of her skin. Holding one hand motionless, she spun the other around her head in a fast motion, and her normal “Nadina” appearance returned. “I thought that boyfriend of yours was supposed to be a genius?” She snickered, clicking her tongue.

  “He is, you stupid twatwaffle,” I spat back venomously. “And, don’t ever speak badly about my boys. I have a blade I’ll shove so far up your stupid ass you’ll be swallowing steel for years.” No, it didn’t make any sense to me either, but it was the best I could do under duress.

  I reached under my shirt, unsheathing the Excalibur-morphed dagger from its holder. As if sensing what I needed before I even knew myself, I raised it in front of myself at a defensive angle, and it shimmered gold and burst into a bright light, illuminating the unnaturally dark parking lot. My smirk was wide as Nimue flinched in the golden light.

  “That’s not…” she actually sounded stunned.

  “That’s right, skank-fae. That’s Excalibur, and she’s mine. So release my friend, and we’ll be on our way. Or I’ll be forced to cut you down,” I glowered, praying I sounded more confident than I felt. I gripped the metal hilt tightly; a warmth like the sun skirted up my arms and relaxed my tense shoulders.

  She snorted. “Like you know how to use that thing.”

  “Try me.” I glared with menace.