Etched in Silver: An Otherworld Novella (10 page)

“Empty your pockets on the bed,” I said with a snarl, waving my blade toward his face. As he began spilling his pockets on the bed, I suddenly felt the energy shift. The camouflage was breaking. Shit, we just needed a few more moments. While Roche was focused on Trillian’s blade, which was dancing around his midcenter, I dropped my knife and whipped out the death scroll from my bag.
I had barely unfurled it when the illusion broke. Roche bellowed and grabbed for what looked like an amulet around his neck. Trillian thrust with his blade, but Roche darted away from him. He caught hold of the pendant and stared at me, his eyes gleaming as he shouted something in sorcerers’ tongue. A whirling orb of energy blasted out of the talisman.
A blink of an eye till impact. No time to leap out of the way. I steeled myself for the flames. But before I could stop him, Trillian pushed me to the side and took the blast right in the chest, shouting as the magical flame burned through his clothes.
“No!” I swung around to face Roche, bringing up the scroll. “Enough mayhem. Enough murder.
Enough! Mordente dezperantum, vulchinin, mordente la saul ayt Roche!

Time seemed to slow. My voice hung heavy in the air, the words trickling out like honey on a cold morning. Roche’s eyes grew wide and he dropped the knife. His head fell back and his mouth opened, as a black smoke poured out of his throat. Above our heads, a swirling vortex opened and sucked the smoke into it. With one last solitary shriek, Roche tumbled forward as the vortex closed.
Ignoring Roche’s body, I dropped to my knees beside Trillian. “Trillian, Trillian, are you okay?”
Darynal kicked Roche once, very hard, then joined me.
Trillian groaned, wincing with pain. There was a platter-size burn on his chest—the material had melted to him. “I’ve been better.”
“We should get a doctor—” I glanced over at Darynal.
He shook his head. “I’m skilled at healing. I have to be, living out in the woods on my own. Let me look at it.”
Within minutes, he’d stripped away the burnt clothing and was smoothing the skin with his hands. A crackle of magic told me that his healing abilities weren’t limited to herbs. The pulsing heat of Trillian’s burn began to fade. After a few moments, it was bright pink, but the worst of the blisters were gone.
“How’s the pain?” he asked Trillian.
Trillian closed his eyes, then shrugged. “Bearable. Much better. Thanks,
druneh
.” He took Darynal’s hand and slowly rose to his feet.
I hesitantly moved toward him. “You saved my life. You took the hit that was meant for me. Being half-human, it would have probably killed me.”
He gazed into my eyes, then reached out and stroked my lips with one finger. “How could I not? After what’s happened between us? We’re linked—I don’t know how or why, but it happened. I’m not sentimental, Camille. You’ll find that out very quickly. But what’s mine, I protect.
And you are mine
.”
Normally, I’d snap off a quick
fuck you
to any man who said that to me, but Trillian wasn’t playing testosterone games; he wasn’t being the macho he-man. He meant it, and it was true.
I slowly kissed his fingers, then bit them lightly. “And you are mine.”
“You should get the body back to headquarters now.” He motioned to Roche. “You bagged your killer. This should shut up your prick of a boss.”
“Aren’t you coming with me? You’re the one who made it possible for me to catch Roche. Without you, I’d still be trying to figure out where he was.” I wasn’t the kind of woman who took credit for other peoples’ work.
“No. I want no mention in this. You take him back, you tell them you managed to track him down, and you get that idiot off your back. Or I’ll take care of your boss in my own manner.” His eyes flashed dangerously and I realized he was more than willing to take out Lathe if I asked.
I nodded, slowly. I didn’t like lying, but in the greater scheme of things, what mattered most was that Roche was out of commission. “Thanks,” I said slowly. “I owe you one.”
Trillian shook his head. “Camille,” he said softly, “that’s another thing you’ll learn about me. With you, I won’t keep score.” He held out his arms and I slid into them. Once again, he held my heart. And in that moment, I knew what I had to do. What
we
had to do.
 
LATHE stared at Roche’s body. I’d hired a wagon to haul him back to the palace and then dragged him through the halls by the scruff of his collar, ignoring the trail of blood as his body bumped over the rough marble. I was determined that my boss wasn’t going to take credit for the catch and I made sure that every agent, guard, and noble that I’d met on the way to Lathe’s office knew that I’d taken Roche down and brought him in.
“You got him?” The look on Lathe’s face was priceless as I dumped Roche at his feet.
“No thanks to the false leads you threw my way,” I said. “But here he is. Sorry I couldn’t bring him in alive. He might have confessed that you were trying to help him get away then.
But you listen to me, Lathe.
Every agent and guard between here and the palace steps knows I collared Roche, so don’t you dare try to steal credit for this.” I jabbed him sharply in the chest, hard enough to leave a mark. “You play by the up and up or so help me, I’ll make sure you’re exposed for the sicko you really are.”
Lathe blinked, then reached out and grabbed my wrist. “Don’t you threaten me, little girl. You won this round, but one of these days you’re going to go too far. And then, you’ll have to run straight to me. And my price for help just went through the roof.”
I pulled away from him and backed toward the door. “You wanted Roche. I brought him in. Do I get my promotion or do I tell people what scum you are?”
Without missing a beat, Lathe turned back to his desk. “Oh, you’ll get your promotion. You’ll get a raise for this, and eventually, you’ll get a
promotion
. But Camille, you’re going to wish you’d played it my way. Trust me.” And with the flick of a hand, he dismissed me.
THREE nights later, Trillian was waiting for me by the doors to the temple of Eleshinar, the Fae goddess of passion and love.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” he asked, glancing up at the temple.
“I’m sure.” And I was. Sure of only one thing in the world: that this was the right thing for us to do.
“You didn’t suggest this out of some sense of obligation, did you?” Once again, he cupped my chin and gazed into my eyes. His touch was like fire, and I wanted him, all of him. “I don’t want you only because you feel guilty, or because you feel you owe me something. Especially like this.”
I clung to him. “I’m so hungry for you that I ache. I want you inside me. I want your arms around me. But there’s far more to it than that,” I whispered. “Last night, I asked the Moon Mother what I should do. And she confirmed what I was thinking.
Eleshinar’s Ritual
.”
“This ritual—it can’t be undone.” He gazed into my eyes, his own ice blue ones searching my face, looking for the truth of my heart. I opened myself up so that he could
see
. . . could see that I wanted this more than anything. That I
had
to go through with this.
“We’re meant to be together. What happened . . . you know we forged a link. All we’re doing is formalizing it.”
“I know. I may not pray to the gods, but I have my own sense of destiny.” Trillian shuddered. “I’ve never felt this way before. You are part of my future. And so . . . for better or worse, yes, we’ll perform the ritual.” He let out a long sigh. “What will your family say? Do they know where you are?”
“They think I’m at the Collequia, as usual.” I laughed, suddenly happy and feeling like a bride on her wedding day. “Oh babe, trust me, you don’t want to know what they’ll think. You don’t want to know.”
There was nothing more to say. I took his hand and we walked through the temple doors.
THE altar was composed of a long, cushioned dais, surrounded by tables filled with lush baskets of fruit, loaves of bread, sweet chocolates, and pastries. Another table, near the dais, held inks of all colors, and several long, thin brushes. Near the altar stood a stone tub, embedded into the floor, steamed with swirling water as the scent of roses and jasmine and ylang ylang rose to perfume the air.
Nori, the priestess I’d spoken to that morning, slowly glided up.
She was beautiful, bare-breasted, and her skirt was a sheer drape of sea foam and silk. Golden armbands encircled her upper arms, and her hair was smoothed back in a long ponytail. But most arresting, a brilliant tattoo of green and gold curled its way across her forehead to wind down the sides of her face and neck, coiling farther still to encircle her breasts and spiral in to her nipples.
When she smiled at us, the room lit up and I stared at her, unable to tear my gaze away. She laughed, her voice a tinkle on the wind, and my heart lifted. Whatever magic the priestesses of desire wielded, it was infectious.
“You are certain of this?” she asked.
“I am.” I expected to hear myself waver but my voice came out surprisingly strong, as if I wasn’t the one speaking but instead, the Lady of the Moon herself.
Nori turned to Trillian. “And you? Are you so certain, as well?”
He nodded. “I am.”
“Then we shall begin.” She gestured toward the tub. “Disrobe and enter the ritual bath.”
Suddenly shy, I began to remove my dress. I’d worn a simple shift, aware that the ritual would entail removing my clothing. It was much easier than fumbling with a bustier and buttons and ties. As I slipped the straps off my shoulders I glanced over at Trillian, all too aware that he was watching every move I made. As the shift fell away, grazing my nipples, I shivered in the cool air of the temple.
Trillian’s look said everything. Desire, passion, hunger, longing . . . it was all there. After a moment, he slid off his tunic and trousers and stood there, five-foot-ten inches of gloriously toned muscle. He looked like a statue carved out of onyx, polished and smooth. As I lowered my gaze to his hips, his cock rose, erect, smooth and with just a drop of liquid on the tip of the head. I licked my lips, aching to slide up against him.
Nori walked between us. “I can see it,” she said softly. “There is a cord that binds you already. This ritual will only be the confirmation of what you’ve already begun.”
She motioned for us to get in the tub. I carefully lowered myself into the chest-high water, spreading my arms as the bubbling warmth surrounded me. Trillian joined me, but we didn’t touch. We were forbidden to touch.
Yet
.
Inhaling the fragrant steam, I closed my eyes and let the stress of the week wash off me. I tried not to think about the coming months. My father would be furious, my sisters, too. But this was something that I knew would happen sooner or later, and the sooner, the better as far as I was concerned.
“Please, dip fully under the water,” Nori’s voice spiraled into my thoughts.
I held my breath and lowered myself under the water level, letting it immerse every part of me. Trillian did the same and when we came up for air, he gave me a glowing smile, all I needed to remove any lingering doubts.
We exited the bath and Nori handed us long bath sheets to wrap ourselves in. The air had grown warmer, though I couldn’t see any fireplace around. She pointed toward the dais.
“Please, lie down on your backs.”
I settled myself on the dais and she helped me adjust my soaking hair. Trillian joined me, and we lay there, not touching, inches apart, the lazy air currents playing over our bodies. I sucked in a deep breath. He was inches away and I could feel him there. I wanted to reach out, to touch, caress, but forced myself to lie still, the tension in my body driving me crazy.
Nori’s voice was a rustle on the wind as she began a faint chant. I gazed into her eyes as she leaned over me, adjusting my position. Her breasts hung heavy and full like my own. Her lips were thick and lush as she softly sang out her spell. Part of me wanted to reach up and caress her, too. But she was as far away from my grasp as the Moon Mother.

Other books

The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls
The Stillburrow Crush by Linda Kage
SG1-17 Sunrise by Crane, J. F.
Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
The Winemaker's Dinner: Entrée by Dr. Ivan Rusilko, Everly Drummond