| |
“I have not failed. I’ve just found 10 000 ways that won’t work.”
~ Thomas A. Edison
––––––––
A long strand of hair tickled Bear’s face. He startled awake and jerked up. His forehead smacked against something solid. Ouch.
“Mmmph.” Chloe reeled back and clutched her nose.
Bear threw off a blanket and sat up. Cool night air gently flowed through an open window, a nice refreshing change from the hot day spent cooped up inside. He winced and rubbed his forehead. The soft lamp light illuminated the couch and reflected off the blank television screen while casting Chloe in shadows. Her white hair cascaded down her body, clinging to her curves.
“You sure know how to thank a lady.” Chloe straightened and dropped her hand from her nose. It wasn’t bleeding and pain no longer crinkled her eyes. Instead, her gaze blazed from fire within, eyelids lowered, cheeks flushed, and mouth parted. He’d have to be a statue not to react to that look. Had she been anyone else, if this had been anywhere else, he would’ve reached out and pulled her to him. Every inch of his body wanted her right now, to sink into her heat and lose himself in the tangle of their bodies. Tension gripped him.
He shook his head. Not real. Stupid dark fae lust vibes.
“Sorry about the head butt. Reflexes. You okay?”
She grunted and sat down beside him. “I can see how you’d need to be vigilant with someone trying to cover you with a blanket.”
Vigilant. He was a mockery of the word. It had been over a week of hiding and although the scratches on his face and his hand had healed, he was no closer to figuring out a solution to this mess. Instead, he’d grown closer to Chloe and complacent. Last night, he’d fallen asleep with her in his arms. He didn’t pull away. He didn’t extract himself. Oh, no. Not this idiot. He’d stayed and enjoyed the comforting sensation of her pressed against him and her hair in his face. Tonight, he’d fallen asleep on the couch again and this time hadn’t stirred when Chloe got up, apparently. He was losing his touch.
“Oh, relax. It was just a blanket.”
He glanced at the runes that kept her prisoner in the apartment. If the runes didn’t prevent her from harming him, her own common sense would. Without him, she’d have no connection to the outside. Hmm. Was that the only reason he still drew breath?
“You mentioned the runes worked in a way I didn’t understand,” he said.
Her lips twitched.
“Why don’t you explain them to me?”
Chloe leaned back on the couch. “I think not, Pretty Boy.”
This wasn’t the first time he’d asked, and like the other times, she refused to answer. “Why not?”
“I find watching this play out much more entertaining.”
“Hmm.”
She giggled and the tiny bells of her laughter spread warmth through his chest. What the in the Underworld was wrong with him?
“Bear?” She turned to him, her arm brushing his own.
“Yes, Chloe?”
She leaned toward him, her serious expression turning her face to stone.
The door burst open. Splinters flew through the air and the door crashed into the wall. Dark fae soldiers poured into the room.
Bear sprang from the couch and lunged at the first soldier, blocking his strike and countering. His fist slammed into solid armour. Pain shot up his arm and he winced. He stepped out of the way, grabbing the man’s arm and twisting it behind him. Before he could use it as leverage, a gauntlet covered fist smashed into his face.
Lights flashed.
Something cold pierced his side.
Bear staggered, crashing against a side table and knocking it over. He deflected more blows, barely reacting in time while he frantically searched the room. Chloe fought beside him, but there were too many of them.
“Run!” he yelled, ducking out of the way of another attack. He kicked the soldier out of the way. “Get out of here.”
She shot him an annoyed glance and kept blocking her attacker’s strikes. She was breathtaking. Spinning, dodging, ducking. She was a whirlwind of deflections and efficient counterstrikes. Heat poured off her.
Another fist broke through his guard and slammed into his side.
Oomph. The strike knocked the air from his lungs. He doubled over. A lamp crashed to the ground. Furniture flipped over. Too many.
He gushed blood. He’d been stabbed at least once. His vision wavered. They were going to die here—in his shitty safe house apartment with two glasses, two plates, a bowl and three spoons. And it was all his fault.
Bear continued to deflect blows as the soldiers continued to press forward. They hadn’t drawn their swords—too cramped. He reached for his corvid energy and pulled. Desperate and grasping, he yanked at everything he had. Magic tore through him and he roared. The call of corvids filled the room, shattering glass and shaking the walls. Birds streamed into the apartment through the open windows, answering his call. They flew at the soldiers, pecking at faces, scraping and tearing skin with their talons.
The soldiers thrashed at the air, batting at the crows and ravens with their fists and knives. Birds croaked and cawed, squawking and crying out as they flailed to the ground.
No! Not that. Not them, too.
Where’s Tasha?
His gut sunk as he frantically searched for his shadow among the fallen birds. He didn’t see her, but he didn’t feel her energy pinging against his, either.
Out of the chaos, a soldier stepped in front of Bear and unsheathed his sword. Cold settled over Bear. This was it. This warrior would gut him right here, right now.
“That’s enough,” a silky-smooth, melodious voice rang through the room, a woman’s voice suggesting seduction and dark promises. Still enthralled by her voice, he wasn’t prepared for corvid energy to crash against his. Intense, twisted and strangely alluring, the magic reached inside him, surrounded his power and squeezed. His energy suffocated.
The surviving crows and ravens called out in confusion, beady black eyes wild. They stopped attacking the fae while he struggled to breathe. Two soldiers stepped in behind Bear and gripped his arms. Two more soldiers did the same to Chloe. Now contained, the suffocating pressure on his corvid energy eased.
The soldiers at the door stepped aside to let a woman enter the room. Tall, lean, with black hair pulled back in intricate knots, her pale face emitted a light all on its own. She wore a dress made of black feathers that hugged the top of her body and flared out into a skirt at her hips. It didn’t fit with the large metal scythe with a skull etched into the blade that she clutched in one hand.
“Poor choice of accessories,” his youngest sister, Juni, would have said. Fuck, he was glad she was nowhere near here.
Bear panted, sweat running down his face and blood running down his body. He likely faced death in the next few minutes and all he could think about was his siblings and their snark.
He focused on the woman with the commanding presence. Her black eyes and suffocating power marked her as dark fae, but she also wore a subtle black crown barely noticeable in her mass of black braids.
“Who are you?” he asked.
A cruel smile spread across her face. “I’m Lloth, Queen of Corvids, and you are...?”
Screwed. He was absolutely, one hundred percent screwed. His face must’ve said it all because the woman laughed. Unlike Chloe’s tinkling laughter, he had no wish to hear any more of this woman’s cackling.
“I know your name, Bjorn Crawford. I’ve been looking for you. I’ve even met your sister.”
Though he had two sisters, he knew automatically which one she referred to. “Stay away from Raven.”
She leaned forward. “No.”
Bear lunged at her, but the firm grips on his arms kept him in place. He looked around the room, desperately, frantically, searching for escape. If he could shift like Raven, he’d already be out of the room and Chloe wouldn’t have stayed. His abdomen ached with a painful throb.
“You should’ve run,” he told Chloe.
She shook her head, white hair clumped together with sweat and blood.
Lloth snorted. She pointed at the runes drawn on the wall. “She couldn’t leave when she’s bound to you.”
Bear groaned. He was an idiot. In the middle of fighting for his life, he’d forgotten about the runes locking Chloe in the apartment.
“She could’ve broken the spell quite easily, of course,” Lloth continued. “I find it interesting that she didn’t.”
Bear’s heart sank. He didn’t need help filling in the blanks. He knew he couldn’t trust the fae, even if he was half fae himself. He scowled and turned to Chloe. “So, that’s why you were so drawn to me, huh?”
Anger flashed across Chloe’s face. Not quite the emotion he’d expected.
Lloth laughed and stepped forward. He struggled against the other men’s holds, but they forced him onto his knees as the queen approached.
“You are pretty.” She reached out, cupped his chin and forced his face up. “Pretty stupid.”
Huh?
“She didn’t need to seduce her way out of the spell created by the runes. She couldn’t. To release herself, all she had to do was kill you.”
Shock spread through his body so fast he froze. What?
“And despite your impressive combat skills, mortal, the Claíomh Solais, the White Glaive of Light, the bastard daughter of Erebus, God of Darkness, has a few generations of practice on you.”
He gaped at Chloe. She could’ve killed him at any time. Unease clamped his spine. Chloe could’ve killed him twenty minutes ago when he fell asleep on the couch.
Lloth’s smile was wicked and cruel. “She could’ve escaped at any time.”
Chloe’s angry gaze burned the side of his face. She’d spared him instead of escaping. Maybe her attraction to him wasn’t a lie after all. But that meant...
He shook his head. No. He wasn’t the kind of person to swoon over a beautiful woman. There had to be more going on here.
“She found you special.” Lloth leaned down and stroked his face with her free hand. “And I think I know why.”
Bear used to want to be special. He wanted to stand out. Impress. Be that guy other men wanted to be and the women wanted to fuck.
Not anymore.
Any remaining ambition to be stand out from the crowd fled from the gleam in Lloth’s gaze.
And his change of heart wouldn’t matter. He could protest and deny and nothing would spare him from this moment. This fate.
She’d take him anyway.