Empire of Secrets: A New Adult Paranormal Romance with Young Adult Appeal (God of Secrets Book 2)

by L. R. W. Lee

  I imagine stepping.

  Infirmary. Aimil. Infirmary.

  I hold the image with every ounce of determination I’ve got as everything goes dark.

  Please work. Please work.

  Secret magic brushes against me as shadows swirl. It has to be a good sign. I will it to be so.

  Come on. Come on. Come on. Infirmary. Faster.

  I hear a high-pitched screech. Just before my side slams into something with no give. Oh, that smarts. Weight falls on me, then wriggles.

  Finally my shadows fade away.

  A black-robed female struggles up from our heap, three others crowd around.

  It worked. It worked. I almost can’t believe it, but these are definitely healers.

  “Sorry. Sorry. It’s my first time tripping-for-two. Help him, he’s hurt.”

  The female stands and adjusts her robe, then offers me a hand. But the next instant she recognizes Harpoc, and the four healers move into action.

  Harpoc’s on a stretcher, then moved to an examining table by the time the eggplant-skinned female with gray hair that I really want to see appears.

  “Aimil, thank goodness.” I want to hug her but settle for drawing a hand to my chest.

  She shuffles into the room and shoos everyone else away with the stern warning not to breathe a word of Harpoc’s presence to anyone.

  “Close the door,” she commands me.

  She bends over Harpoc, her black and silver horns bobbing as she extends her scarred hands.

  I dart to do as bid.

  “What happened?” Aimil asks, moving her hands over his head.

  He still hasn’t moved.

  “We were in the court of the scarab queen. She… she…,” I say, holding one of Harpoc’s unmoving hands.

  Aimil ignores my stuttering, still slowly, methodically moving her hands above his head.

  I shift from one foot to the other. “What’s wrong with him?”

  She doesn’t reply, just continues her examination. “What else happened?”

  “There was… an altercation…. They separated, then surrounded us.”

  She pauses, hands over his eyes.

  “All hell broke out after that.”

  She eases one of his eyes open and grunts.

  “What is it?”

  “Saline. Middle one.” She points to three bottles above the sink.

  I fetch it, opening, then placing it to her grasping hand.

  She opens his other eye.

  I inhale sharply as I realize they aren’t gold and silver anymore, but sickly yellow.

  I only barely hold back a whimper. His beautiful eyes.

  She pulls back his lids fully and squirts saline liberally into both. “Rag. Drawer, right of sink.”

  Liquid is streaming down his cheeks, through his hair, across the table, and onto the floor by the time I locate the thing.

  “What happened? What’s wrong with his eyes?”

  She doesn’t immediately respond, rather hovers a healing hand above the eye she’s holding open.

  Another grunt, then she sprays more saline into both before allowing them to close.

  Only now does she straighten. “Scarabs have a nasty toxin that when it hits the eyes, nose, mouth, or any other sensitive tissues, it instantly immobilizes. With the size of those particular creatures, its potent.”

  “Will he be okay?” I blurt. It’s what matters most.

  “It’ll take a couple days, but he should make a full recovery. It’s just a good thing you got him here when you did.”

  I exhale loudly, so relieved that I can’t put it into words.

  “What else happened?” She shuffles around to my side of the table and turns, opening one, then another drawer.

  “What do you mean?” I get out of her way, retreating to Harpoc’s other side.

  “You’re disturbed about something else. I feel it.” She looks back at me, picking up the supplies, and returning to the table.

  Does she sense my confusion about what the scarab queen said?

  “Open these.” Aimil hands me two flat white packages.

  I tear open the seal on the first and extract a circular white piece, then do the same on the second.

  She unrolls a length of gauze then looks up when I haven’t replied. “Tell me.”

  It’s not a request.

  I look into her eyes. “The… the queen said… she said…” I wave my hands. “They attacked, and he wasn’t answering. I panicked. I was almost to him but….”

  “You froze in place, didn’t you?” She says it simply, like it’s expected.

  My eyes go wide and my breathing labors.

  “What…? How’d you…?”

  “Your scent is different.”

  “My… my scent?”

  A smile mounts her face. “Yes, it’s different than when I first met you. Your side of the bond that you share with him locked into place.” She bobs her head at Harpoc.

  My breath hitches.

  She chuckles. “Oh, child, it’s not the end of the universe to be bonded to a being such as Harpocrates.”

  I clutch the table. Harpoc and I are bonded. The queen wasn’t BSing me. We’re really bonded.

  The only reference I have for bonds is those I’ve read about in fantasy novels.

  They’re intimate and vulnerable and raw.

  We’re bonded?

  I look at his peaceful face, then up at Aimil.

  “He knew, didn’t he?”

  She just looks into my eyes. Answer enough.

  When did he know? When was he going to tell me? Or was he?

  Hurt wells up.

  He promised to be forthright. He promised.

  I thought he had been since he brought me here, but this whole time, he’s been keeping the mother lode of all secrets because I know this isn’t the secret that his magic nearly strangled him for. No, that secret has something to do with my ring.

  I feel like pulling my hair out.

  Too many secrets!

  When I chose to come, I knew there’d be secrets, but come on, they weren’t supposed to be about me. They were supposed to be about the double standards that drive me nuts. I was going to fix the situation. Bring justice to the underdog. Make things right.

  The memory of Aimil patting my cheek the first time I met her, saying “The Ancient One did well” leaps to mind. I was so confused.

  Harpoc covered when I asked him about it, saying she was probably referring to my magic showing promise. What BS. I knew things didn’t add up. I knew it.

  “You knew.” I can’t hold back the pissy from my tone as I look at Aimil. I don’t care that she’s ancient. She was in on Harpoc’s little game. Keep Pell in the dark. It’ll be great fun.

  She nods. “Yes, I did.”

  “Nuria knows too, doesn’t she?”

  I know the answer before she even says, “She does.”

  Because I also remember Nuria giving Aimil a mere shake of her head. I knew something was up. I knew it. The pieces are starting to fall into place.

  And they’re not creating a very pretty picture. Far from it.

  I feel betrayed, and my temper’s rising.

  This is my life. Mine.

  My heart feels like it’s shrinking, caving in on itself.

  They… they all knew. Every one of them, and who knows who else.

  Why am I the last to know?

  Aimil moves to Harpoc’s head and says, “Here, help me.”

  I don’t obey. I clench my jaw instead. “Who else knows?”

  She just looks at me.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  That’s it. I’m done. I’ve never felt so alone, such an outsider.

  My heart’s in full blown agony. This is no pang, or twinge, or soreness. No, it’s full-out anguish. Doubly so because of the intimacy we shared in Harpoc’s garden just this morning.

  I’ve been hurt plenty of times in my life, but this is a pain unlike even when those adoptions fell through.r />
  I can’t stand here another minute or I may say or do something I’ll regret.

  I have to get out of here. I have to get away… from him. From everyone involved.

  I look his still body up and down. His onyx hair is a mess. His chin’s darkening with scruff. His clothes are rumpled, and his duster flows off the table.

  I don’t want to care about any of it, but, of course, I do.

  Aimil said he’d be okay in a couple days.

  “You’re sure he’ll recover?” I ask the ancient healer.

  She gives me a frown. Answer enough. He’s in experienced hands.

  I turn and walk out the door.

  “Pell….”

  I ignore her, never looking back.

  I exit the infirmary and turn left, striding down the hallway. Gray and black marble all around with that rose emblem climbing along vines, it makes me want to scream because he’s been secretive all right.

  I walk faster, following the path Nuria lead me down to get back to Harpoc’s place. But that’s the last place I want to be at the moment.

  I long for old and ancient ruins. I can count on them not to betray me.

  I stop suddenly, startling the pair following me from their conversation.

  I don’t care about them either.

  They pass, giving me strange looks.

  The ruins of Mete on Kivarna. They’re the first ancient ruins to pop into my brain, and a second later I’m picturing them and stepping.

  _______

  The afternoon shadows are stretching under the jungle foliage when I step from my swirls onto the terrace of Harpoc’s ancient palace.

  It’s where he turned my world upside down the last time—You have secret magic. You’re immortal, Pell—but I block that out for now. I also refuse to think about the fact that this place is a glimpse into him, not much different than his apartment.

  I push all those thoughts away, because there’s something about knowing that this empire has a past that extends back to the beginning of time that settles me.

  I step over thick roots that have pushed through the tiles and set them at angles as I amble over to the low part of the wall that spans the front of the plaza and look out over the ruins of Mete.

  I ran.

  Bond mate.

  My inner minion is silent. I’m glad because I can’t deal with her right now.

  I blow out a breath. A gentle breeze makes the leaves on tall trees lining the plaza sway. The smell of jasmine hits my nose. A pair of birds call to one another.

  Peaceful.

  Calm.

  Just what I need to think.

  I wanted adventure. I sure got it.

  I hear Aimil’s words again. “It’s not the end of the universe to be bonded to a being such as Harpocrates.”

  “I’ve got secret magic, I’m immortal, and I’m bonded to Harpoc.” I start talking to myself. It’s what I do when my head doesn’t have space enough to think something through.

  My laugh is bitter. “But wait, there’s more!” I raise a hand. Yes, at least one more secret involving me that neither he nor Nuria, nor anyone else if they’re any indication, can tell me, lest they risk being strangled by secret magic.

  Bonded. Mate.

  Mate.

  A big cat roars, no doubt to his lady friend, disturbing my thoughts, and I’m never so happy because even though the thought of such creatures inhabiting the area scares me, the sound rescues me from thinking on this whole “mate” business further, because ain’t no way I’m ready for something as honking big as this.

  Dusk will soon be upon me.

  I’d been thinking only of getting out of there, but I have things I need to do if I’m going to stay here tonight, like food, fire, a safe place to sleep, and a weapon or two to protect myself from whatever else is out here.

  Good. Perfect. Distraction.

  I plan to lose myself in this ruin come daylight.

  LOL. Double entendre here I come.

  Your life is hardly a ruin, Pell.

  I ignore her.

  Crap, I’ve got nothing but secret magic for tools—my long coat pockets are empty. It’s the first time in years that I’m completely unprepared for any eventuality. I shake my head. Things really have changed in the last few days. Note to self, fix that once back to civilization.

  Problem is, I’ve no idea how to use secret magic for anything but tripping.

  I know it can be useful. I’ve seen… him… use it.

  Mate.

  I clear my throat. “Right then, knife first.”

  I’ve seen him conjure a blade when he sealed that secret for Comrade Li—bloody Chinese communist—but I’m a novice. I scan the buildings lining the terrace. Night is falling fast, and I don’t have time for lots of experimentation. Perhaps if I offer up the raw materials to make a blade, secret magic will create one for me.

  I spot shiny decorative rose emblems inlaid in a grand rounded archway through which the ornate stairway up to the palace ascends, but there’s no way I’ll ever consider desecrating such an ancient treasure.

  I decide the same after noting a host of other moss enhanced metal rosettes adorning the half walls leading to the arch.

  There’s only broken tiles I’m willing to use.

  I retrieve a larger shard, one the length of my hand, wedged between one tile and its neighbor. Who knows where the piece fell from, but I’ll take it.

  I lay it at my booted feet. All I really need is a sharp edge. It’ll be enough to cut stuff, and affixed to a thick stick with a vine, it can double as a weapon.

  Now, for a little hocus pocus. If there’s anything I’ve learned about secret magic, it’s that it’s all about intention and being as specific as possible.

  “Okay, secret magic.” I speak aloud because that’s sure to make it listen. “I need a knife with a very sharp edge made out of”—I point—“this tile.” Oops, almost forgot to tell it when. “I need it now, please.”

  I envision what a possible blade from the tile might look like based upon the countless primitive tools I’ve unearthed and hold that image in my mind.

  Wisps of shadows erupt from me, but they don’t head for the tile. Nooo, that would be way too easy. Rather they surround me from my neck, down to my feet and I feel them brush… everywhere.

  It was erotic earlier, but not now. Not after…

  Mate. Bonded.

  I shake the thought away.

  It’s hard to hold the image of the blade with my shadows doing what they are.

  “No, create a blade with a very sharp edge from that tile, right now.” Again, I point.

  They ignore me, continuing to brush my legs, my arms, my waist, my chest, my back. I yip when they get really fresh between my legs.

  “Did Harpoc put you up to this?” I’m a bit ticked, because I realize only now that I never took back authority over my magic from him earlier.

  Of course they make no reply.

  “Stop obeying Harpoc and obey me.” There’s bite in my words. “Now, create a blade with a very sharp edge like I’m imagining, from that tile, right now.” I point.

  My shadows surround the tile and occlude it from sight.

  Was that him directing my magic, or was that my magic’s willfulness at play? No, I don’t want to know.

  My shadows retreat.

  And what to my wondering eyes should appear….

  I pick up the former clay tile by its smooth rounded side and inspect the opposite that is now a sharpened edge. The handle fits comfortably in my palm.

  “Nicely done, now return to me.”

  My shadows slither back inside me, and I realize they’ve not been leaking like they did when I first discovered I had secret magic. Is my body starting to control them automatically? I’m not sure how I feel about that. But I’ve more important things to focus on.

  I scan the trees lining the terrace, spotting a number of low hanging vines. Perfect, because I can use the outer fiber for kindling to get a f
ire going.

  But as I head for one, a swirl of shadows not far away makes my pulse speed. How would he even know where I am?

  Please don’t be him.

  I exhale when Nuria steps from the shadows, but how did she know my location? I’d hoped to disappear from everyone temporarily.

  “Good, you’re still in one piece.” She strides for me, her long white braid bobbing over a shoulder of her leathers.

  “A lot of confidence you have in me.” I don’t mean to be snippy, but some slips out because doggone it, she’s ruining my solitude.

  “What’s going on? Harp tells me via Aura, to get my ass here and make sure you’re not dead.” She puts her fists on her hips as she stops. Her violet eyes search me up and down.

  “How long have you known?” There’s steel in my voice.

  She hesitates a second too long, and I know she knows, but she asks anyway. “Known what?”

  I roll my eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me.”

  She huffs. “I knew this would happen. Look, Harp asked us not to say anything.”

  “How long?” I clench my teeth.

  She shakes her head. “Since he first introduced you to the three of us.”

  “How’d you know?” My brain’s replaying that first encounter with the Core, Aura’s barely there robe and all, but there was never any conversation about us being bonded.

  I would definitely have remembered.

  “He held your hand. Honestly, I’ve never seen such a proud grin on his face as he had that night.”

  I frown, not understanding.

  “Oh, that’s rich.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head, realizing I’m not following. Her face assumes a pitying looks. “A male only holds the hand… of his bond mate.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  My eyes go wide, and my breathing labors.

  The scene from my first moments here as beings bowed when we walked down the hallways, replays in my mind. Harpoc glibly dismissed their surprised looks, saying, “They’re curious. They’ve never seen me holding a female’s hand.”

  “Everyone, every damn being we met, knew we’re bonded… except me?” My voice rises along with my temper.

  She stiffens. “How’d you…?” She’s more timid than I’ve seen her.

  “The Queen of Scarabs told me. Aimil confirmed it.”