Feathers and Fire Series Box Set 2

by Shayne Silvers

  You know what I mean.

  “We set lightning traps since we’re up so high,” he explained. “And…we don’t like lightning very much,” he added in a vaguely suspicious tone. “Anyway, the bolts freeze when they hit our traps. I kept this one as a reminder to keep one eye on the sky.” Then he grunted and let out a harsh, cold laugh as if he’d made a joke.

  I nodded slowly, not completely following, but not wanting to appear judgmental. “It looks kind of…pretty,” I admitted, studying it more closely. I swore I could see swirls of color within the grains of…whatever element it was.

  He nodded. “This one hit a…rainbow I made,” he said stiffly, as if he’d changed what he’d been about to say. Then he hurriedly set the staff down beside him. “You chose a hell of a time to visit. But that should be the last attack of the day,” he assured me.

  So casual about it, I thought to myself. Be careful.

  He reminded me of a live electrical wire, yet he looked completely calm at the same time. I wondered again who had thought it a good idea to leave him alone up here like this. Even I could see it was changing him, and I’d only been here ten minutes or so.

  The little girl skipped up to the fire, tugging Last Breath by the paw. She stared at me thoughtfully, cocking her little head as she pointedly gazed upon my forehead. I squirmed beneath her assessment, feeling like a subject in a science experiment. Then she eyed me critically from head-to-toe, seeming to stare through me—or possibly inside me. Her dimples were as deep as bullet holes, and her cute blue eyes made me feel like a white rabbit targeted by twin hunting rifles. “I’m Alice. Nate took me on an adventure. We had a fairy tale story with backwards dragons and knights,” she said by way of introduction, not even giving us a minute to introduce ourselves. “Have you decided what you are here to do?” she asked sweetly.

  I blinked once. Twice. Her outward demeanor and age had initially led me to assume she was nothing more than what she seemed—a beautiful little girl. But hearing her name and staring into those deep blue eyes now, I heard a small warning bell ringing inside my ears. Alice…she was Alvara’s daughter. The mother and daughter Nate had promised to take to Fae—in direct violation of their still-standing banishment. On some instinctual level, I knew she was incredibly powerful, young enough to be led by her emotions, and her emotions were suddenly suspicious of me.

  I nodded my head, trying not to show fear, wondering where her mother was. “Yes.”

  She nodded somberly, eyes calculating. I remained perfectly still. Nate folded his arms behind his head to lean back against a stump and grinned—a little of the man I knew shining through.

  “Why are you wearing Demonskin? You’re supposed to be royalty. It’s confusing. Unless this is a masquerade ball.” She turned to Nate. “This isn’t a masquerade ball, is it?”

  I stiffened for several different reasons, trying to shrug off Nate’s sudden interest—like a wolf locking eyes with you in the middle of the woods when you were miles from habitation. He finally turned back to Alice and shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “How do I take off my…Demonskin?” I asked her, not realizing my curse had a name. I’d assumed it wasn’t visible at the moment. Nate had definitely recognized me, or he would have attacked on sight. Maybe the Demonskin was the source of the initial tension I’d felt from him. She had also mentioned a masquerade ball, just like Xuanwu had.

  Alice frowned. “It’s not my Demonskin. How would I know how to take it off? It’s tied to your soul, and that’s about as tangled up as I’ve seen in a long time. Worse than his was.” She shot Nate a long-suffering look, but he was grinning, not saying a word to aid me. She turned back to me. “You must have big family problems to go to such great lengths.”

  Her words bit deep. “I’ll try to take care of that,” I said, wanting to punt the child off the cliff. Of course I had big family problems, but that didn’t explain why I’d used this Demonskin on myself. Whoever had convinced me to do this was going to pay. Which was one of the reasons I was here.

  Her personality was very…loud. Not necessarily in volume, but in energy. It would have been a lot more entertaining if she’d been targeting someone else, the tiny, Napoleonic bully.

  “Your forehead is dusty. Royalty should keep their crowns clean,” she said, eyeing my forehead again.

  Nate coughed into his elbow, his shoulders shaking. “I’m not sure how to clean it, Alice,” I said with a sigh, her comment making me think of what Pandora had said about toys collecting dust on the shelf. And a crown was another word for a head.

  “You don’t clean it. You must dominate it. Like he did. His shines like the sun, now.”

  He blinked at her. “I have a tattoo on my head, too?”

  I sure couldn’t see anything on his forehead.

  Alice nodded absently. “Different, but the same language as hers. But you have so many other problems going on,” she huffed, gesturing in his general vicinity without actually looking at him, “that I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

  He frowned darkly at that—but not until she looked away from him.

  “It seems being royalty is harder than I thought,” I said.

  Alice sniffed. “We haven’t even gotten to the royalty bits. Those are just the lady bits.”

  Nate coughed violently into his fist.

  Alice casually picked up a snow goon’s head and set it in the kettle over the fire to boil. I almost gagged at that imagery but managed to keep my composure. “I’ll make some tea for you. Can’t have a decent reunion without some tea. Right, Nate?”

  “Right, my lady,” he said seriously.

  Was this actually Alice from the Lewis Carroll stories? I watched as she very carefully set four stone cups down beside the fire. She glanced at Nate and pointed to one. He nodded. Then she turned to me, pointing to a different cup. I nodded, wondering why this felt ritualistic.

  The smile that split her cheeks upon my nod made me wonder what I had just agreed to.

  She then glanced at the other two cups, shook her head, and stood to her feet. “Kitty and I will be in the igloo. Grimm will leave to scout the camp borders and search for threats.”

  He snorted. “And slaughter them mercilessly.” Then he took off to the skies, obeying the little girl without question. He almost seemed eager to be away.

  When I turned back to Alice, she was already tugging Last Breath away by the paw, leaving Nate and I alone with the four cups. Two had tea in them, even though I hadn’t seen her pour anything. “Be careful with her, Nate,” Alice teased over her shoulder. “She’s seen the omegabet. You haven’t seen the omegabet.”

  Nate watched her, scratching at his jaw and looking perplexed. “Sometimes, she says things that I can’t even begin to comprehend,” he explained in a low whisper, dismissing her comment. “She’s been teaching me Fae magic There is a lot to learn. And a very steep learning curve.”

  Alice scoffed, hearing his whisper even from across the clearing. She glanced back at him from over her shoulder. “You are only taking twice as long as I feared. Which is quite good, considering my mother gave up all hope with you.” She turned to me, scrunching her nose. “Speaking of hope, I would appreciate you saving the murder until after tea.”

  Then she slipped into the igloo with Last Breath, leaving me all alone with my victim.

  Well.

  Shit.

  Chapter 42

  Nate tensed, leaning away from me in a swift jerk. He studied me warily, eyes narrowed ever so slightly. I held up my hands, shaking my head in a calming gesture. “Wordplay,” I assured him in a gentle tone.

  Nate’s unease slowly changed to deep thought. And like a wild animal looking at an open cage, he continued to study me, suspicion flickering in the depths of those eyes. I smiled warmly at him.

  I hadn’t seen Alice grab tea leaves from anywhere, but our cups were emitting a minty scented steam. I handed Nate his cup of tea, taking one for myself and leaving the two str
angely empty cups beside the fire. Instead of speaking, I studied the two empty cups thoughtfully as I sipped the warm tea. Flavor exploded across my tongue, much more intense than any mint tea I’d had before. I licked my lips, smiling down at the cup.

  Nate sipped at his own cup, but I could feel his eyes on me, still waiting.

  Alice’s comment had gone off about as well as a bucket of gasoline hurled at a fire. I needed to establish trust, like Qinglong had told me. But it wouldn’t be through a blood bond. I’d already decided how I would bond this man to me. I’d made the decision shortly after speaking with Xuanwu—several of his statements taking time to reveal their true meaning. But each step I’d taken since had only confirmed my decision.

  “Alice asked if you knew what you were here to do…” Nate said softly, rather than asking about the obvious statement she’d parted with—about murdering hope.

  I nodded confidently. “About some things, I’m conflicted. About one thing, I’m convicted,” I admitted, pointedly refusing to look at him.

  “What are you conflicted about?” he asked softly.

  I smiled inwardly at his choice of question—not that it was any easier to answer, but it spoke volumes about the man before me. I let out a breath, thinking of my talk with Qinglong. “I have something I need to talk to you about, but I can’t do so right now.” He frowned, opening his mouth to argue but I held up a finger. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, it’s that it would require time I don’t have.” I took a measured breath, closing my eyes for a moment, knowing that, in order to be honest, I had to say this next part. “And it would take an objective, non-emotional mindset that you don’t currently seem to have. It would detract both of us from our current…battles,” I said, settling on a word. “You with Mordred, and me with Kansas City.”

  He studied me thoughtfully, definitely not pleased, but he apparently trusted and respected me enough to finally nod. “I…think you may be right,” he finally said, his voice slightly raspy. “To be honest, this is about as clear-headed as I’ve felt in quite a while. Which means I’m clear-headed enough to realize how much further I still have to go.”

  I smiled reassuringly. “Thank you.”

  He glanced at me curiously. “Why even bring it up if you didn’t want to talk about it?”

  I stared into the fire, giving his question deep thought. “We have both suffered too many lies from those we care about. I have this information I need to share with you, but neither of us can afford to discuss it yet. In my opinion, choosing not to let you know I have this information feels exactly the same as an outright lie. I figured the only way to be honest was to let you know I have it, but that I’m not ready to talk about it yet. Otherwise, if you found out later and thought I had hidden it from you…” I shuddered at the thought.

  He tensed. “I wouldn’t hurt you, Callie. Jesus—”

  I gripped his hand suddenly, cutting him off. His skin was hot to the touch, and he froze like a startled deer. How long had it been since someone had touched him? For him to react like that meant it had been too long.

  “I know you would never hurt me, Nate. It’s just that…I couldn’t bear knowing you thought I had lied to you. So, an unpleasant middle-ground is better than nothing.”

  He studied me in silence, his face expressionless. I turned back to the fire, releasing his hand and feeling very small under his gaze.

  “Thank you, Callie,” he finally said. We sat in silence for a time, the fire crackling between us. “And what are you convicted about?” he finally asked. I felt him shift his gaze away in my peripheral vision.

  I didn’t look up, staring instead at the smoldering blue fire, at the glowing coals that looked like neon blue lights one might see illuminating a pool in the evening. I continued watching the dancing flames until I had regained my composure. I turned to Nate, my voice clear and confident. “I want to see it.”

  He tensed, shooting me a surprised look. It slowly began to morph into a frown, and he opened his mouth.

  “I want to see it,” I repeated in a firm tone.

  He studied me silently. “Why?” he finally asked.

  Unbidden, a smile slowly stretched over my face. “I need to make sure it matches my boots.”

  His eyes widened and he grew very still. I waited, nodding my head as I pointed at the satchel lying beside the log at his feet—the Darling and Dear satchel I had given him. Ever so slowly, and in complete silence, he reached inside his satchel without looking, and withdrew a white stone mask that glittered like sunlight striking fresh snow. He stared down at it for a second, a smile creeping over his face as if the two had just shared an inside joke. Then he shook his head, his smile fading as he extended it towards me.

  My heart began to skip as my fingers drew closer. The moment my fingertips touched the surface, I gasped as the Horseman Mask stuck to my skin like a magnet and my every sensory receptor exploded, overloaded with input for the space of a single, eternal second.

  Then it was gone, my skin tingling sharply in its abrupt absence, seeming to hum on a molecular level as it resonated with the Mask now cupped in both of my hands—which I didn’t recall doing—like I was holding a purring cat. The interior of the Mask was a sort of crystal, looking sharp and jagged with veins of silver streaking throughout. I ran a finger over the interior, not liking the concept of putting sharp jagged stone against my face.

  I gasped as my finger brushed through what felt like velvet, seeming to want to latch onto my fingertip and hug it tightly. And my forehead pulsed a single time, like a cool breeze over damp flesh. I shivered.

  Nate chuckled. “Creepy, right?”

  I nodded, unable to peel my eyes away from it. I didn’t even need to ask, knowing exactly which Horseman Mask it was. “Despair,” I said in a breathless whisper.

  It hummed stronger, warming my hand as it responded to my voice. I turned it over in my lap to inspect the front and instantly felt myself smiling. What appeared to be a beautiful woman’s face stared back at me—even though what looked like a ragged bandage covered her eyes. And from beneath the bandage, three rivulets of silver streaked down the surface from each eye. Six tear drops for the Sixth Horseman.

  On a not so distant level, I was very pleased to see this, because deep down I had been fearing I would lose my eyes at one point and actually be wearing a bandage around my head in the flesh. My vanity purred, pleased.

  Although the Mask was so detailed that it almost looked like actual flesh, it was most definitely the same crystallized white and silver stone, glittering whenever the light hit it just right. I noticed a faint indention on the forehead—a horizontal crescent moon, points up. I frowned thoughtfully at that, fairly confident that it didn’t match the word Despair branded into my forehead. But for the moment, it didn’t matter.

  I set it on my knees, finally looking up at Nate. I was silent, studying the growing frown on his face with absolutely no reaction on mine. I let the silence stretch, not reacting as he began to twitch and fidget subtly.

  “What are the rules on workplace romance?” I finally asked.

  He blinked. Then he leapt to his feet, breathing huskily. “I know the boss. I’m sure he won’t mind…” he said carefully.

  “Good,” I purred, allowing a wicked grin to finally touch my cheeks. “Because that would have been a deal breaker.” Because I had realized that my love for Nate had actually been a predominant factor in instinctively wanting to decline—not the dangers the job entailed, even though I had lied to myself about it with that line.

  I hadn’t wanted to choose the Mask of Despair over Nate.

  This was the way I wanted to bond with Nate.

  I lifted the Mask in my hands, gauging its weight. Although it looked dense, it felt no heavier than a thin tank top.

  “You can change its shape,” he said, pulling out the coin hanging from a chain around his neck. The moment he touched it, a dark charcoal Mask with a single golden streak down the center appeared in hi
s hands. That gold streak looked more like a fracture, or a bolt of electricity than a naturally occurring element of the Mask—like mine with the silver streaks. The stone was so dark that it was hard to make out what the face looked like. A moment later it was a coin again. “Just imagine what you want it to look like,” he said.

  I thought about the silver butterfly charm he had given me the day we first kissed, the one currently in my pocket, and I smiled. With a faint curl of vapor, a new silver butterfly charm sat in my palm.

  “You’re going to have to teach me how to use it,” I said, grinning down at the butterfly.

  He grimaced slightly. “There’s kind of a learning curve. I can share my experiences and help you as best as I can, but I think each Mask is entirely unique. They seem to adapt to the user’s abilities or inclinations. At least that’s what mine has seemed to do.” He thought about it. “Each seems to have its own personality. It might be best for you to figure it out on your own, rather than me limiting you by telling you what to do. You aren’t an extension of me, of Hope—”

  “I’m Hope’s counterpoint. Despair and Hope, two sides of the same coin. We are each other’s murderer,” I said, smiling faintly, alluding to Alice’s comment, finally.

  Nate nodded his agreement. “I had…hoped that was what Alice meant, but only because I’ve spent a lot of time around her recently and know how she thinks.”

  I had much I wanted to discuss with Nate. About the Masters, our parents, and what we’d each been up to this past year. But that conversation would have to wait for another day.

  Or maybe that conversation was for a couple days. And nights. With a lot of alcohol, room service, and privacy for miles in every direction. I glanced up at Nate, trying to conceal my rapidly blushing cheeks. “You know…and I’m just spit-balling here, but it might be a good idea to take this training seriously. Go somewhere secluded. Very secluded, mind you. Just to be safe. And we will need food and drinks. Shelter. And no one knowing where we are. You know, so we don’t get distracted. Because training is important. Very important—”