The chattering of squirrels roused me at sunrise. Eyes closed, I luxuriated in the softness of my sheets, the fluffiness of my pillow, and the whooshing of cool air through the vents. Thank heavens I'd found an apartment with central air. This heatwave would've killed me without a retreat.
Safe in Nevan's arms last night, I'd fallen into a dreamless sleep and not woken until morning. He'd said I was exhausted, and man, was he right. Soul-baring could really tax a girl. My long night's rest had recharged me for the day ahead and whatever new surprises it might bring.
I was alone in the bed this morning. The chair by the window sat empty. Nevan must've popped out to check on my family. I silently thanked him, stretching my arms above my head as I yawned.
Unease crept into me. My gaze migrated past the curtains to the gloom in the corner near the foot of the bed. I shivered at the unearthly sensation of invisible fingers probing my skin, and tugged the blanket up to my chin.
The darkness shifted.
Something is there.
I pushed up onto one elbow. "Nevan?"
Tentacles of energy, unseen and oily, stretched out to me, licking at my body as if testing the flavor. Whenever I sensed Nevan, his presence aroused and yet calmed me. This energy slithered over my skin. It seeped into my pores, infesting my psyche.
I heaved my body up into sitting position. The blanket slumped down to puddle around my hips. The tentacles fused to my flesh, to my bones, to my soul. Not Nevan. His presence activated my senses, nothing like this engulfing blackness.
"Who are you?" My voice came out strained, my throat was parched and tight.
The curtains billowed. An icy draft churned through the room.
My clammy hands dampened the sheet. The window was shut.
"Show yourself." As if I held any sway over supernatural beings. If Nevan refused to obey me, why should this entity? Still, I couldn't huddle on the bed praying the thing might vacate the premises. "What do you want?"
The darkness seethed. It siphoned fragments of light from the shaft of sunshine that warmed my skin. The bright and the black coiled, spun, coalesced into a tall figure.
A man.
I clutched the blanket to my breast, abruptly aware of the my nightie's low-cut neckline.
He moved away from the wall. His knee-length white toga swished around his thighs and the curtains fluttered behind him. Blades of sunlight scraped away the shadows enshrouding him to unmask his tall, muscle-bound frame. The light coated his olive skin with a golden sheen. His platinum-blond hair blazed as if set afire by the sunshine. Energy spun out from his body to entwine me in its frigid, slick embrace.
The being eyed me with detached interest, like a scientist examining a petri dish full of multiplying bacteria.
My ears rang. Darkness invaded my vision. I realized I'd stopped breathing and hauled in a lungful of air tainted with the sharp odor of something vile and indefinable. This was the man I'd met in the shop two days ago, the one who warned me the guardian was bound to him.
This was Skeiron, the king of the sylphs.
I fought to break eye contact but I couldn't blink, much less avert my gaze.
The immortal being before me bent his head back. "Are you the one?"
I struggled to speak, but my voice had frozen, along with the rest of me.
In one stride, he crossed to the bed. His mass towered over me, eclipsing the light and, as if on command, I raised my face to him.
He grasped my chin in one massive hand.
"You," he said, his voice cool and even, "have lured my best guardian away from his task. If you are the one, and he is concealing the truth from me… "
"Guardian?" He must've meant Nevan, the only guardian I knew, but I couldn't summon the brainpower to interpret Skeiron's words. His presence overwhelmed all else — the surroundings, my thoughts, my ability to feel anything save for his alien touch.
Skeiron's eyes shrank to slits, his mouth became a slash. "You know of whom I speak. You have spent three days with him, seducing the guardian into forsaking his duty for you."
Black hair. Swirling metallic eyes. The memory of Nevan rushed through me, sweeping my mind clean. "I haven't seduced anybody. Nevan does what he wants."
The sylph king tightened his grip on my chin the slightest bit. Flames of hellfire red erupted within his irises.
I scuttled backward, away from the pull of this creature's gravity.
Serpents of power whipped and snarled around me, unseen yet tangible, biting into my skin with every lash. I swatted at my arms and face, driven by the impulse to sanitize my flesh, but the spectral serpents tore at my flesh, firing shocks of pain into me.
The assault cut off with a jolt. The energy snapped back into the humanoid being who loomed over my bed.
Between gasps, I croaked, "I know who you are. Skeiron."
His nostrils flared, his eyes too. "A mortal may not speak my name. It is forbidden."
The nerve. I opened my mouth to spit out a snide retort, but snapped my jaw shut. This bastard stole into my home, into my bedroom, and accused me of luring Nevan away from his job of enchanting gorgeous, hapless women. Yet I was forbidden? I gulped back the hysterical laughter rising in my throat.
Skeiron exuded everything dark — anger, envy, greed, and a hunger I preferred not to examine. My stomach twisted into razor-sharp knots. I clambered backward, away from him, and jumped off the bed's opposite side to barricade myself with its bulk. As if that would deter an elemental creature.
The king's top lip wrenched upward in a nasty expression. "I will root out the truth. If you are the one, I shall have you."
"I don't understand."
Skeiron flew across the bed to slam down in front me. On his knees on the mattress, inches away, he seared me with his glower. "Another seeks you, but he will not be as restrained as I."
He exploded into a black tornado the size of a man. It reeled through the room, knocking me off my feet. I cried out as my hip smacked into the dresser, my body ricocheted off it, and I crumpled to the floor.
The man-size twister plowed into the window. Glass shattered, raining into the room with a harsh tinkling sound. A final gust ripped through the space.
In the stillness that followed, I blew hair from my eyes. With both hands, I grabbed the mattress and hauled my ass off the floor. On my knees, bent over into the bed, I gaped at the shattered window. Bits of glass stuck to the wooden frame, which had splintered into multiple pieces. The curtains hung in tatters.
Nevan had alerted me to the danger, but I refused to listen. Refused to believe. Here, in my own home, the king of the sylphs had thrown down a gauntlet at my feet. And I still had no clue what Skeiron wanted from me.
Thunder boomed overhead. The building rattled around me and the floor trembled.
I staggered to my feet, bumbling sideways into the bedside table. Water sloshed in the glass I'd left there last night.
My battle with Calder nearly destroyed me, but at least my foe had been human — if deranged. This time, I floundered for the words to describe my predicament. Somehow I'd earned an enemy with unspeakable power and motives beyond my comprehension.
Skeiron's voice bellowed on the wind. "The guardian shall not have you. Your power belongs to me."
He thought I had power? This guy was terrifying and insane.
A bolt of dark power sliced through me. Nausea twisted my gut. Tears burst from my eyes, borne on a retching sob as the agony of Skeiron's energy clawed at my soul, and I clutched at my stomach, doubled over on another body-wrenching sob. A single thought seared my mind, a frantic call sent out through the ether, on a wavelength I'd never imagined existed. Maybe it didn't. Maybe I was freaking out from the knowledge I was about to die, but my mind — my heart — screamed the plea.
Nevan, I need you.
Thunder detonated overhead. The building trembled. Bits of paint and plaster showered down from the ceiling. The quaking escalated into a bone-jarring crescendo as framed photos bounced off the wall, striking the floor one by one. Glass cracked. The bed jounced.
The ceiling collapsed on top of me.