City of Everdark (Chronicles of Arcana Book 3)

by Debbie Cassidy

  I pulled myself off the ground. “I’m okay. It’s okay.”

  The mesh was gone now, and the sunlight had condensed to a tiny golden ball. It hovered in the inky black and then surged out of the darkness beyond the metal door and into the room. It bounced off the walls, rebounding and ricocheting, and there was laughter, maniacal laughter that sent shivers of apprehension down my spine.

  He was free and he was insane, and he was—The ball of light slammed into me, into a part of me that I hadn’t known existed and yet I’d missed all the same. Like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle, it slotted into place. The laughter died and then rose again, but this time it was a mournful cry, a child’s sobs. A child’s pain.

  I knew those sobs. I knew that pain. And then a freight train of memories slammed into my mind, knocking me backward. I scrambled to latch on, to grab a singular moment and examine it.

  A young boy with silver hair brushed off his face sits on the floor playing with a pile of blocks. He holds one out to me. “Come on. You love building.”

  “Not today.” I don’t feel like playing make-believe. “I want to wake up.”

  “We will. Soon. I promise. And when we do, there’ll be so much to see and do.”

  “Food?”

  “Yes. Real food.”

  “Grass?”

  “Yes. We’ll play on the grass. We’ll smell the sunshine.”

  My mood lifts. “And we’ll grow up.”

  “Yes, we’ll grow up.”

  Panic seizes me. “But you won’t leave me, will you? When we grow up?”

  He stands up, walks up to me, and pulls me into a hug. “We’re kindred. You know what that means. It means there is no me without you, no you without me.”

  Happiness fills me. No me without you, no you without me.

  My kindred is pale, and there are dark smudges beneath his eyes. I reach out to touch him, but my fingers slip through him and fear grips me. “Please. Don’t go.”

  More tears spill down my cheeks. My chest aches and twists and fear blooms in the pit of my stomach, a thousand claws waiting to shred me.

  He opens his mouth to speak but no sound emerges.

  My sobs tear into the fast-approaching darkness. Born, I am being truly born. But where is my kindred? I have to hold on to him. Must not forget, must not ...

  Angry, devastated sobs shook my body and filled my soul with an empty ache. Gone. He was gone. They’d taken him. Ripped him from me, and now I was alone. All alone.

  “Not alone.” The voice was bemused and dazed. “Tethered, finally tethered.” A soft laugh. “I’m here. I’m connected. Do you see me? Wila, open your eyes. See me. Am I real?”

  He’d bloomed into existence in the ether because of my existence. We’d been connected even before we’d been born—my vulnerable flesh and blood form linked to his powerful ether one, a form that could become tangible because of its connection to me. We were entwined. Forever entwined, and I ached to see him again.

  Light blinded me for a moment, then muted to reveal a tall, lean man. His silver hair was brushed off his face, and his turquoise eyes stared into my soul. His body seemed to glow as if from within, but there were dark smudges beneath those beautiful eyes, a sorrowful tilt to that perfectly formed mouth. His skin was pale like alabaster and smooth. What would it feel like to touch it?

  I knew this face as if it were my own. As if I was looking into a mirror created for souls. He was the light to my dark. I stepped into him, my hands reaching for his face, a face I’d known before I’d ever drawn my first real breath, and one that had matured into a handsome man. Not just any man but my ether kindred. His eyes fluttered closed as I ran my fingers down his cheek and brushed the pad of my thumb across his full bottom lip. He allowed me to explore his features: the ridge of his Roman nose, the hollow of his cheeks, and the razor line of his jaw. He allowed me to drink him in, and when my touch faltered and fell away, his body tensed.

  His eyes snapped open, rage glittering in their turquoise depths. Terror flooded my blood, freezing it and stalling my breath.

  “My turn.” His voice was frost fire. And then his hand was on my throat, squeezing enough to stem my cry but not enough to kill me. “So you finally opened the door.” Gone was the playful, mocking tone, and now there was only the promise of pain. “And tears too? How touching. How very fucking touching.” He cocked his head. “Sorry? What? Forgive you.” He glanced up at the ceiling as if contemplating my silent request. “I don’t know? I mean, on the one hand, you didn’t know who I was, but on the other, you didn’t actually do a great deal to find out, did you?”

  He was right. He was so fucking right.

  “No. You left me to rot for over two years. The rest…” His throat bobbed, the only sign of his emotional ambivalence. “I can forgive the rest, but these last two years ... Do you know what it’s like to have freedom at your fingertips? To know that your salvation is mere meters away, sleeping above you, dreaming, breathing, while you remain locked in the dark, but that she’s too self-absorbed, too preoccupied to give a shit about your crime or lack thereof.” His grip tightened, and a strangled squeak made its way past my lips. “They punished me for loving you. They punished me for being born. And you? You got to live. You got to fucking live.”

  He needed this. He needed to lash out, to blame, to hurt because he was hurting, because he’d been a prisoner in the dark forever while I’d bathed in the light.

  There was no defense. I closed my eyes, dislodging more tears.

  The sound that tore from his throat was pain and frustration, and then he was hauling me closer, his grip easing slightly as he pressed his forehead to mine. When he next spoke there was a different kind of heat to his tone. “Have you any idea how much I missed you?”

  There was a tsunami of tears rising in my chest, because yes, I knew it. I remembered it all, and his longing, his pain and loneliness weren’t his any longer. They were mine.

  “Wila ... Fucksake.” His fingers slipped from my throat and down to bridge my collarbones.

  I tilted my chin and pressed my lips to his in a salty, teary kiss. He shook his head, trying to pull away, but I cupped his face, holding him steady to whisper against his mouth. “I missed you so fucking much, and I didn’t even know it.” He was me and I was him and yet he was everything I wanted. “Please ... I need you. I need us—”

  His lips softened, parted, and then he was kissing me, his hand sliding into the hair at the nape of my neck, his body pressing up against mine, his tongue claiming my mouth in a sweeping motion that flipped my stomach and knocked my knees out of commission. He kissed me for the last two years and for every year we could have been together. Light filled me, rushing into my pores and settling into my soul. The connection that had been muted for twenty-five years flared to life, and the kiss deepened into something harsher, hungrier, and desperate to take a new form. The power inside me twisted and morphed, dragon one moment, Shedim the next, and then merged together as one, as something new and wonderfully powerful—his gift to me, his to control through me. My hands tore at his shirt, wanting more, needing the union that would bind us and give us back what had been stolen.

  He tore his mouth from mine, his ebony-fringed eyes dark with desire. He ran his hand lightly over my face from forehead to chin, fingers catching my bottom lip and leaving me aching to taste them. He was under my skin, inside my soul. He was in every pore of my being, and suddenly that empty feeling, that need for more, was a distant memory.

  “We’re back.” There was an edge to his tone.

  How could I blame him for being torn? “You can hate me if you need to.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t want to.”

  “I know. But I understand. You need to. Take whatever you need.” My voice broke.

  His hand slid back up to my throat, his thumb rubbing my carotid artery, and then he dipped his head and claimed my mouth again, sucking in my bottom lip and then biting down hard enough to
draw blood. My moan was part pain, part pleasure.

  He released me abruptly and stepped back, averting his gaze. “I want to hurt you, and at the same time, I need to protect you,” he said gruffly.

  I reached up to touch my throbbing lip. “Well, I guess we have to wait for that time when you no longer want to hurt me.”

  He met my gaze. “And what if that day never comes?”

  “Never say never.” My lips curved in a small smile. “There is no me without you and no you without me.”

  Pain lashed across his features. “You remember ...”

  I swallowed hard. “I remember it all.”

  He bridged the gap between us, hauling me into his arms and claiming my mouth again, and again, in a series of kisses that teetered between punishing and soothing, until my lips were swollen and overly sensitized. He said my name over and over, and my lips ached to return the favor.

  I pulled away and pressed my hands to his chest. “What should I call you?”

  “You don’t remember?” He frowned, his mouth turning down.

  Panic gripped me, because I needed to make him smile. Needed to please him.

  His brow smoothed out. “You chose Bastion as a surname.”

  “Yes.” Matron had filled out the necessary paperwork when I’d turned thirteen to give me a surname. Bastion had been what I’d chosen.

  “Do you remember why you chose that name?”

  “No. I ... I just, it just popped into my mind because...”

  “If I could choose my name it would be Poppy.” I twirl a strand of my hair around my index finger.

  “Poppy? No, that isn’t who you are.”

  “It so is. What about you? What would you choose?”

  “Me?” He looks up at me with his stunning eyes. “I’d choose Sebastian.”

  His eyes seemed to glow as he watched the memory take me. I pressed my free hand to his chest. “Hello, Sebastian.”

  He exhaled and looked away, as if too overcome to meet my eyes. “You named me. You loved me, and you forgot so easily.”

  The anger was back, creeping into his voice like deadly ivy.

  There was nothing I could say that he didn’t already know.

  He took a heaving breath. “It was her, Liana. She did this to us.” His lips curled in a sadistic smile that made my pulse spike with twisted desire. He met my gaze. “Wila, there is only one way to make this right. Mother has to die.”

  My desire for vengeance echoed Sebastian’s words. Liana had hurt us. She’d taken twenty-five years of our lives. She’d manipulated us, and she’d stolen Sebastian’s youth, but killing her wouldn’t bring any of that back, killing her would simply send Sebastian into a spiral of destruction. If I was to get him back, I needed to steer him away from the path of ruin that his rage was hell-bent on taking him on, long enough for the rage to leech away, long enough for him to find hope.

  “Killing her won’t bring back the time we lost.”

  Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. He leaned in, his lips twisting in disgust. “I want to watch the life drain from her eyes. I need it, Wila. I need it like I need to touch the ether.”

  “More than you need me?” I tilted my chin so our lips were a hairbreadth apart. “More than you need this.” I brushed my lips against his, flicking out my tongue to taste him.

  His hands gripped my hips, squeezing punishingly, holding me still, holding himself in check.

  I pulled back a fraction, allowing my breath to caress his mouth. “I, for one, won’t be wasting any time on her. She’s dead to me, but this—us—this is where my attention will be going.” I raised myself on the tips of my toes. “I don’t want to waste any more time, Seb. I don’t want to give her any more of my time.”

  His hands left my hips and tangled in my hair, rough and punishing. “You’re fucking lucky I love you so much.” His grip tightened. “Enough to hold the darkness at bay for now.” He stepped into me, his body flush against mine. “But when the time comes, will you love me enough to step into the darkness with me?”

  My body ached and throbbed at every point of contact, and my heart thudded hard and fast against the cage of my ribs. “Yes. A thousand times yes.”

  He exhaled against my mouth and then pressed the tip of his nose to my cheek, inhaling before releasing me abruptly and stepping back. The darkness in his eyes retreated. “Well, are we going to stand around in your basement making out, or are you going to offer me a cup of tea?” He canted his head. “I’m fucking parched.”

  Knees trembling, body still acclimatizing from the exchange, I led him to the basement steps.

  Chairs scraped back as we entered the kitchen.

  Noir’s gaze swept over me, examining me for injuries. “Are you all right?” I nodded and his fists unfurled. His gaze finally settled on Sebastian. “Well, that was certainly an entrance, or was it an exit?”

  Sebastian didn’t respond, but his regard was sharp and just as assessing as Noir’s had been a moment ago.

  Mack was staring at Sebastian in awe, but Sebastian ignored the troll blood and turned his attention to his surroundings. Everything would be so new and strange to him. Unlike Quinn, he hadn’t had TV to give him a glimpse into the outside world.

  Quinn walked around the table and held out a hand in greeting. “From one captive to another, welcome to the outside world.”

  Sebastian snorted and shook his hand. “Quinn, right?”

  I looked up at him. “How do you know?”

  “Is there anything you haven’t told me?”

  Point.

  “And the stuff you didn’t sometimes filtered into my consciousness.” He pursed his lips. “No you without me, no me without you,” Sebastian said softly. “It’s just strange seeing it with my own eyes.”

  I waited for that feeling to assault me, the one you get when someone has invaded your privacy, but nothing happened. Wait, did that mean even my bedroom exploits were—

  Both his brows flicked up.

  Aw, shit. Now that was just too much. The air in the room thrummed with tension as the other guys watched the exchange almost warily.

  Trevor entered the room. “So that was what was behind the door,” he said sarcastically.

  It defused the tension, and a pot of tea floated across the kitchen to land on the table. Gilbert didn’t say a word, but the tension he was radiating was palpable.

  “Gil? Are you okay?”

  “No,” he said. “I’m not. This is my fault. I discouraged you from going into the basement. I prevented you from engaging with your kindred. We could have let him out sooner. We could have done more digging.”

  Yes, to all of it, but we were both to blame. I’d listened to him, after all. I’d ignored my gut instincts and allowed the fear of peeling back the veil to control my actions, because yes, I’d feared the voice, and even though a part of me had yearned for him, I’d been terrified. Be it some kind of twisted self-preservation or the effects of whatever mojo Liana had placed on me ... It no longer mattered because the past couldn’t be altered. We needed to look to the future.

  “You were protecting her from the unknown,” Sebastian said. “I don’t blame you. There’s only one person to blame, but unfortunately she isn’t in this room.”

  He sounded like a different person out here. The darkness latched to his soul was obviously under control, and I was grateful for his kind words to Gil.

  Gil made a strange sound, half sob, half laugh. “In that case, you’re a better man than I probably ever was.”

  He was never a man. It was Sebastian’s words in my head. His thoughts. I glanced up at him, and he arched his brow. Take a closer look, Wila. He pressed a hand to the small of my back. This is part of our abilities. The ability to see the truth. To feel it. Look at him. What is he?

  My gaze found the spot where Gilbert was standing, just as I’d always been able to, and then he manifested. Or did he? Could the others see him or was it just me? I looked harder and his form coalesced: large, powerfu
l, dark hair falling to his shoulders, and his eyes ... His dragon eyes were a startling green.

  Draconi ... he was Draconi. I staggered back against Seb, and this time, his hands were gentle as he gripped my shoulders.

  “Wila, are you all right?” Gil asked. “You’ve gone pale.”

  What could I say? That you’re Draconi. That you’re not a human or a neph, and that you belong to the other side and are somehow here in my house. I bit back the words, because he deserved more than an answer that would pose a hundred more questions, and if anyone could give me those answers, it would be Lex. He’d bought this house. He’d have to know who Gilbert was, and once he told me, I’d relay the information.

  My smile was shaky. “It’s been a long day. I think we should all get some rest. We’ll pick up Valance in the morning, and then we’ll find a way to get Azren back. Getting into the pit where Elora has him isn’t an option. We’ll need to somehow convince her to let him out. We need leverage.”

  “Or an opportunity,” Quinn said. “Tell her, Gil boy.”

  Gil huffed. “I asked you not to call me that.”

  I bit back a smile. “You have something?”

  “I’m not sure. But I did some research while you were away and stumbled across something called the Triumph games.”

  Triumph games ... I’d heard of these. Elora forced Draconi females to challenge her in battle to prove she was the most powerful Draconi female in the land. It was done by lottery because no one wanted to volunteer any longer. Her rule forbidding Draconi females from taking more than one mate had ensured she was the most powerful. With five mates to draw energy from, she was unbeatable.

  “Yes. I know what they are, but how do they help us?”

  “Ooo, ooo. Let me,” Quinn said.

  Gilbert sighed. “Very well.” His tone was indulgent, though.

  “The winner is granted a boon.” Quinn gave me a pointed look, brows raised, mouth curled in a close-lipped smile.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention. “A boon, as in a wish? As in she can’t refuse?”