The Adversary

by Thea Harrison

  “I guess. Maybe?” She gave the sorcerer a baffled look. “I didn’t stop to look at it very closely.”

  “I’m not sure what they’re doing,” Bel said. She and Grace had gravitated to one side and stood close to each other. “Do you understand?”

  “I think they want to talk to us.” Grace turned to Pia. “Actually, I think they want to talk to you. One of them is making this hand gesture.” Grace cupped her own ears with both hands, and then offered her cupped hands to Pia. “Does this make any sense to you?”

  She finally captured Pia’s attention, who frowned, puzzled, until she thought of the encounter in the forest. Her gaze darted quickly around the group. Some of the party knew what her Wyr form was—Rune and Graydon, and Bel and Eva—but some of them didn’t, and she had no intention of filling the others in.

  “One of them tried to touch me earlier this evening,” she told them. “I wasn’t okay with it, so I backed off. He held his hands like that.”

  “Maybe he wanted to cover your ears?” Grace lifted a shoulder. “At least that’s what it looks like to me, anyway.”

  Bel met Pia’s gaze. “If they want to talk to you, he could be offering a communication spell.”

  “Don’t do it, Pia,” Eva said sharply. “Don’t let them. First Rule in Magic Club: you don’t ever let a strange critter throw an unknown spell on you.”

  Bel’s expression turned wry. “Eva has a point. We don’t believe they mean us any harm, but that’s not enough reason to undertake such a risk.”

  “I know a translation spell or two that could be of some use,” Morgan offered casually. “But my feelings won’t be hurt in the slightest if you decide you don’t know me well enough to allow me to cast a spell on you either. Mostly, though, I want to see what’s in that sarcophagus.”

  “You and me both,” Carling told him. “Let’s take a look.” She glanced at Pia. “If the unseen are still hanging around, you can take a few minutes to decide how you feel about a stranger, or a near stranger, casting a spell on you. Eva and Bel are right—it’s no light thing to consider.”

  Morgan felt like a better bet than letting the unseen do something to her, but… Pia was pretty sure she knew what Dragos would say about it. She just didn’t think she should give any weight to his opinion at the moment.

  She glanced around uneasily, catching the glimmers at the edge of her vision. “They’re still here.”

  “How well can you see them?” Grace asked eagerly. “They’re faint and translucent to me, almost like powerful ghosts.”

  “It’s the same for me,” Bel told them.

  Pia hesitated but could see no real harm in confessing. “In my human form, I can only catch glimmers of them at the edge of my vision, but I can see and hear them perfectly in my Wyr form.”

  “Ahhh,” the Oracle sighed. “So jealous. That must be amazing.”

  “To be honest, it was pretty unnerving,” Pia muttered. “I’m keeping a tight rein on it, but my Wyr form is fairly crazy right now.” She bit her thumbnail as she watched Rune, Carling, and Morgan approach the sarcophagus.

  Could there be anything in that contraption that could take all three of them out? That sounded outlandish, but never in a million years could she have conceived of that terrible moment when Dragos fell to the ground in convulsions.

  Others in the group seemed to have had similar concerns. Khalil quietly dematerialized again and enveloped Grace in a protective shroud, and Graydon dew closer to Bel.

  Morgan, Rune, and Carling paused at the edge of the sarcophagus. Morgan murmured, “I think it’s okay. You?”

  “Agreed,” Carling replied after a moment. “There’s a lot of magical residue, but nothing active.”

  “Number Four also left his eau du parfum here too.” Rune pointed. “Especially where the lid and one corner of the sarcophagus got broken. I think that crazy bastard crawled in there.”

  Working together, the trio lifted and heaved away the broken stone lid. Eva muttered, “That had to have weighed thousands of pounds. A werewolf, a Vampyre, and a gryphon walk into a bar, and what do they get? They get anything they want.”

  Pia did not want to laugh. Nothing was funny right now. A snort escaped her nose. Torn between equal parts dread and fascination, she drew closer to the sarcophagus and the others followed suit.

  Morgan broke another glowstick. It lit his handsome features with a macabre slant. “Well, well, well,” he said. “Just as I had begun to suspect.” He glanced up. “It’s safe. You can come closer.”

  They ringed the sarcophagus, all looking down at the contents. Inside, there was a golden human-shaped shell, the lid of which had been dislodged. Inside lay a mummy, wrapped in cloth that was gray and frayed with decay. The arms were broken off at the elbows. Pieces of bone and cloth lay strewn around.

  “It appears this gentleman was holding something. A scepter perhaps, or a wand.” Morgan’s gaze met Pia’s. “Or maybe a sword. Whatever it was, it’s gone now.”

  Rune grasped the lid and heaved it upright. Eva said dryly in Pia’s head, And that’s another several hundred pounds. I think my ovaries just gave a little mouse squeak. I might be in love with someone else, but I’m not dead.

  Stop it! Pia shoved Eva’s shoulder. I do not want to laugh right now.

  Oh, don’t you, sweet pea? Eva gave her a look filled with pure, limpid wickedness. I can go on for days. I still owe you for that exchange back in the hall.

  God, Pia loved that woman. She threaded her arm through Eva’s as Rune propped the bottom end of the lid on the edge of the sarcophagus. It was a piece of staggering beauty, studded with dusty gems and lapis lazuli. He wiped off the golden face, and they fell silent as they stared at it.

  The face had large eyes set with onyx, a long, lean jaw, high, strong cheekbones, and sensual, thick lips that were quirked into a slight smile. The likeness was so realistic, there were creases in the lean cheeks that bracketed the sinfully luscious mouth. The unsteady illumination from the glowsticks gave the image an uncanny lifelike animation.

  The tiny hairs at the back of Pia’s neck raised. She knew who she was staring at. She had seen that same, knowledgeable smile on Dragos’s stolen face.

  “What do you think, guys?” Rune gave the face another swipe.

  Graydon cocked his head to one side. “I think he looks a bit ironic.”

  The whispering in the wind turned into a hiss, and a feral growl broke out of her. “I want it melted into slag and poured into the sea,” she snarled, and the alert interest in Morgan’s face softened with compassion.

  Back in the direction of the sinkhole, a scatter of debris and rocks fell clattering to the floor. Pia and the others spun around. With any luck the newcomers were Liam and Bayne.

  A massive, lithe figure dropped from the surface, landing in a crouch on the floor. As he rose to his full height, glowstick light glinted off short black hair.

  Pia heard the sharp, indrawn breaths from her companions, and the metallic slide of swords being drawn. Carling and Morgan raised magical Power that shimmered in the air like deadly arrows set to longbows.

  Chapter Six

  But even from that distance, even in an instant, Pia knew better. She knew.

  The man strode toward her, his long legs eating up the distance, gold eyes gleaming.

  “It’s about damn time!” she screamed at him. She launched.

  He was far enough away she had time to build up to her best sprinting speed. Her control over her Wyr form vaporized, and Lord have mercy, she didn’t have the sense to slow down. No matter how fast she ran it still wasn’t fast enough, and when she was about ten feet from him, she gave up and leaped.

  He snatched her out of the air and swung in a circle to break the force of her momentum, and he was still spinning as his hard mouth slammed down onto hers. She latched onto him with everything she had, arms, legs, lips, soul.

  It was just too bad. They were going to have to live like this now and go everywhere toge
ther, her clinging to him like a limpet.

  Bathroom visits would be awkward. Maybe over time their skins would melt together. They would become the PiaDragos. Or maybe the DragosPia. Part of her knew she was babbling telepathically like an insane idiot.

  “I hear you,” he whispered against her mouth, hand fisted in her hair, one muscled arm wound around her hips. “I hear everything you’re saying. It’s okay now. Shh, Pia, stop crying.”

  She had to drag her mouth away to sob raggedly, “I can’t stop, you motherfucker. Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

  His face. His face was everything. He looked fierce, and determined, and tender at once. Carrying her over to a large boulder, he perched on the edge. “Then you take all the time you need and let it out.” He said over her shoulder, “Give us some space.”

  The others went somewhere else. She didn’t know where, and she didn’t care. “I’ve been just about as crazy as I have ever been, and I’ve been pretty nuts at times before.”

  “I know.” He stroked her hair and pulled a strand out of her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Stop that!” She slapped his shoulder. “Don’t you apologize for what that corrupt, thieving, evil, nasty, smarmy, grasping, parasitic, lying son of a bitch did.”

  “If I could rip him limb to limb, I would,” he growled. His eyes glowed brighter than any glowstick, any forge, and the length of his powerful body felt feverishly hot, so much so she started to squirm.

  “You’re getting too hot to handle,” she told him, in what someone who didn’t know her might think was a more or less calmer voice. Then she thrust her face into his and glared at him nose-to-nose. “Don’t make me let go. THAT’S NOT OKAY!”

  He drew in a breath. “No, it is not. Hold on.”

  As he forced his Power under control and cooled down, she started to notice details. He was bruised and bloody again. “You’re a mess. I can’t take it. I’ve got to heal you.”

  “PIA, NO,” he said with such harsh urgency, it brought her up short. He added telepathically, The others are still nearby.

  Oh. Okay. She sniffled. There was no time like the present to get everything off her chest. Live every moment like it’s your only one, right? I punched you a lot, and the unseen saw my Wyr form. And I’m not proud of this, but I might be a helicopter mom after all.

  What?! he snarled. Outrage flashed over his brutal features.

  I know! I tried my best. I wanted to let Liam go off and be an adult, but then I broke down and sent Bayne after him. She plucked at his dirty shirt. I hope he’s not too mad at me—oh, and I also didn’t put on Kevlar when Eva wanted me to.

  What are you talking about?

  I’m reciting a litany of my sins, she explained.

  Forget about that! Those creatures SAW your Wyr form? He glared around, his mouth set in a hard, ruthless line. I’m going to have to find a way to kill them. All of them. I just have to figure out how to see them first.

  She yanked at his shirt. I’m not done talking about me yet.

  “Jesus, give me strength,” he uttered out loud.

  Her mouth dropped open. “You’ve never said anything like that before. Y-you’re not religious. You’re especially not Christ—”

  Cupping her face, he kissed her, and she forgot what she was saying. Here it was, what she had needed so desperately. Home. He was home. She was home. She kissed him back with all the longing that had been pent up in her terrified soul. Gradually, her Wyr side stopped beating at the inside of her skin to be let out and calmed down, soothed by the presence of her mate.

  At last he pulled away just enough to whisper, “Better?”

  “Mmhm.” She nuzzled him.

  “Me too.” Stroking her hair, he told her telepathically, As much as I am struck by the idea of melting together and becoming the PiaDragos—

  Or the DragosPia, she interjected.

  —or the DragosPia, he added with a slight smile, I’m pretty sure you don’t really want to sacrifice your alone times in the bath. Ready to be set on your feet?

  She considered that. Let’s negotiate this.

  Oh, I’m not letting go of you, especially not down here. He planted a swift kiss to her forehead. I’m just putting you on your feet. We have an audience of eight waiting for our attention.

  I don’t care what they want. She scowled at a particularly dark bruise discoloring his hard jaw. She had thrown everything she had into her punches. Had she done that?

  He gave her a quick, bladelike grin. I don’t either, but we all have things to say to each other.

  Pfft. Another thought occurred to her, and she shook a finger underneath his nose. Do not—let me repeat this, Dragos—do NOT become intrigued by any treasure down here.

  He narrowed one eye at her skeptically, as if he couldn’t comprehend the magnitude of what she had just said. Generally speaking, treasure is just inanimate stuff, Pia.

  Then why did he like it so much? She knew what he was doing. He was trying to plant a conversational opening that he meant to walk through at a later date.

  I don’t care. She met his gaze with an implacable stare. He needed to hear how serious she was. We’ve discovered some shiny stuff down here, but before you lay eyes on it and get all dragony, you have to know—this is a line in the sand that I need for you to not cross.

  He frowned. You’re that invested?

  You can acquire all the treasure in the world, and I mean aaaaaaallllll of it. You can barter, gamble, cheat at cards, bust open bank deposit boxes and steal it, blackmail for it, go to war with any nation you like to bankrupt them, I don’t care. The stuff down here has evil possessor cooties, and you can’t have any of it. I’m not…I’m not stable enough to be okay with that. We’ll talk about the house later.

  His gaze had darkened with speculation and then compassion as she spoke, but at the last bit, his black straight brows pulled into a sharp frown. The house?

  She scrubbed her lips with the back of one hand, trying instinctively to wipe away ugly memories. HE was in that house. He did things there. He ate in our kitchen and rummaged through your closet. He showered in our shower.

  He touched me, kissed me, fondled my breast.

  Earlier, she’d told Dragos the truth—that bastard had done only what she had allowed him to do, but mostly because there hadn’t been enough time for him to get insistent. And the whole time a part of her had been consumed with what she might have to do if he did.

  At her words, the rage that rolled off Dragos was almost impossible to face head on. The tremendous musculature of his body locked rigid.

  The dragon said in a deep voice that caused the floor to shake, “I will burn that place to the ground.”

  The tremor ran through the gigantic chamber, causing the stressed stone to ring with a great noise like a sonorous gong. A scattering of dirt and rock sprinkled down. Dear gods, if he wasn’t careful, he was going to cause another earthquake and bring the whole place down around them.

  “Shh—it’s okay,” she whispered quickly, framing his deadly face with both hands. “I’m okay. Everything is okay now.”

  When Dragos’s killer side came out, he was utterly terrifying. He said between his teeth, “I’m not done talking about me yet.”

  “I get it, baby, but we have people we care about down here. We don’t want to bury them under tons of rock and dirt.” She touched his ruthless mouth with unsteady fingers. “Please, you’ve got to rein it in.”

  He hissed, the image of his savage expression burning into her retinas. Then with a palpable effort, he closed his eyes and breathed heavily. When he looked at her again, the savagery was still there in his burning gold gaze, but he had pulled it under control—maybe just barely. She wouldn’t want him to undergo any more stress at the moment.

  She breathed, “I’m asking a lot from you right now. Thank you.”

  He shook his head, grasped one of her hands, and pressed his lips to her fingers. Then he eased her onto her feet, kept one hand
captured in his, and straightened.

  The others had sensibly gathered underneath the clear night sky at the opening of the sinkhole while they waited to see if the dragon was going to cause any more damage to the ruins. Dragos strode over to them, pulling Pia along with him. He hadn’t been kidding when he said he wasn’t going to let go of her.

  “Report,” he said to Graydon and Rune.

  Well versed in the skill of debriefing, they gave him a clear, concise rundown of what had happened. Morgan and Carling added comments at various junctures, and Grace and Bel inserted their own parenthetical observations about the unseen.

  Since Pia had been there for the whole thing, she let it wash over her, concentrating instead on the long, hard fingers grasping hers, the solid sense of Dragos’s presence. Now that the thread of almost unbearable tension had eased, tiredness hit her in a dizzying wave. She fought the urge to curl up on the dirty floor.

  After listening to the report, he walked with them back to the sarcophagus and looked at the golden image for a long, throbbing moment.

  Watching him, she whispered telepathically, All the treasure in the world can be yours for the taking, except this.

  The muscle at the corner of his tense mouth twitched. I agree. This piece of hubris will not be allowed to survive. Finger by finger, he carefully released her hand.

  Then, moving so fast he was a blur, he leaped at the sarcophagus and slammed his fist into the mummy’s head, shattering it so hard pieces of bone and cloth flew out. Grace and Bel flinched back, but Pia’s attention was caught by Rune and Graydon, who stood watching Dragos with approval. The sentinels had always resonated with Dragos’s more feral side.

  As Dragos straightened and turned back to her, she said, “I approve, but just so you know, I am not letting you touch me again until you wash off that mummy dust.”

  He grinned. He was beginning to look calmer; at long last, she was beginning to feel calmer. They were making their way back to normal.

  “Since this seems a good enough time as any to start asking questions, how did you get free?” Morgan asked.