Shadow Reaper (Shadowlands Series) (27 page)

I didn’t know what to say, but I knew there was more to this story than he was telling me. He. So weird but so right.

“So what do I call you?”

“Bernie, of course, like you always have.” That smile again. “You came to find me.” This time, when he reached for my face he didn’t pull away again. He caressed my cheek with the back of his hand, so gently and with such longing it made my heart ache.

I couldn’t help but return his smile. If Bernadette had been striking as a female then as a male she was stunning.

“I came to find you, yes. Daemon, a . . . a friend brought me, but now he’s in trouble and I’m hoping you can help me.”

“Tell me everything.”

And so I did.

When I finished, Bernie pressed his lips together. “It won’t be easy. Brialla is used to getting what she wants. If she’s taken Daemon, then she’s reasserted her ownership over your friend.” He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes narrowing in thought. “I doubt any amount of gold would persuade her to sell. Aether, on the other hand, may persuade her. Unfortunately, there is little of that to go round at the moment. The mines are shut due to the Shadow problem. Inferna is in crisis and . . .” His eyes widened and his gaze dropped to my hands.

I looked down at the ink that decorated my skin. I had the power to save Daemon, and yet I couldn’t quell the unease that crept up my spine. Daemon had told me not to reveal my ability to anyone, but I’d told Bernie because, well, it was Bernie, and now I had to face the fact that I had the power to save Daemon, but to do so, I’d have to expose myself as a valuable commodity.

“No.” Bernie shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I thought you had influence. Surely you can protect me from Brialla.”

Something dark and uneasy passed over his features, too fast to decipher. “I was talking about the Shadows. The mines are crawling with them. It’s too dangerous.”

“Daemon was worried that the nobles may try and keep me here if they found out what I could do.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

I cocked my head and studied him. “Look at you, all macho and shit.”

He grinned. “You have no idea.” He leaned in, his lips hovering above mine. Our breath mingled enticingly and I felt myself sway toward him but caught myself just in time. I pulled back, confused and flustered by my reaction toward him. I needed to focus on the task at hand and worry about this . . . other stuff, later.

I cleared my throat. “So what do we do now?”

Bernie sat back and studied me. “First we get you some appropriate clothing, and then we pay Brialla a visit. The invite I received to a gathering makes perfect sense now. She wants to show off her new toy, or old toy, depending on how you look at it.” He stood and moved toward a rope hanging from the ceiling by the bed and tugged on it twice. “The good thing is that there are bound to be other nobles there. It’ll make it harder for her to ignore our offer.”

I looked down at my hands again. “More nobles to try and claim me?”

“I won’t let that happen. You’re my guest and under my protection. Nobles can be sadistic bastards, but they operate on strict etiquette, and attempting to claim another noble’s guest is considered the height of impoliteness.”

“Noble? Is that what you are now?”

He moved back toward me and knelt at my feet. “Yes, I guess I am.” He took my hands. “But I’m still me, the Bernie who was, who is, your friend.”

I looked deep into those hazel eyes and saw my reflection staring back at me.

He squeezed my hands gently and then raised them to his lips, dropping a kiss on my knuckles.

There was a rap on the door.

“Enter!” He didn’t take his eyes off me.

I felt my cheeks flush under his attention.

The door opened and the male Hellion stepped in.

“Valma, we’re going to need some clothes for our guest, clothes that befit a gathering.”

***

I felt stupidly overdressed in the crimson dress Darma rustled up. Tight at the waist, with a push-up bodice, and a skirt that flowed around my hips and thighs, it was flattering, alluring and so not me, but I could see that Bernie liked it. His eyes had lit up like lanterns whose beams swept me up and down, lingering provocatively on my breasts. It made it that much harder to breathe, that much harder to think. I was grateful when we set off in the carriage to Brialla’s. The suit Coralee had made for me was bundled up under the seat. The night was cool enough for me to survive without it.

Bernie sat up front with Valma. It gave me a moment to breathe, to collect myself and assess my feelings. I was overwhelmed. Bernadette was alive. Bernadette was a man! An Infernan noble! Of course my emotions would be all over the place, not to mention Daemon and the fact that he was in trouble. All that coupled with the fact that I hadn’t had sex in like . . . forever, explained why I was feeling so damn horny.

Feeling a lot better about my haywire hormones I settled back to take in the scenery as it whizzed by, and ignored the tiny voice that told me I was overanalysing things. So what if I wanted Bernie? I was free to fuck who I wanted. Didn’t I deserve a little relief? The memory of Bernie’s tongue lapping at my clit had me squirming in my seat.

Shit! I needed to get it together.

I needed to get laid, but not by Bernie, I told the naughty voice. Bernie’s friendship meant too much. I couldn’t risk things getting complicated.

I focused instead on the world outside.

Reds and oranges and greens, it was dusty and lush all at the same time. The sun was setting and the world was tinged with crimson. The scent of incense, sweet and spicy, filled my nostrils, and I allowed myself a moment to revel in the beauty of this strange world. The strange creatures that pulled the carriage—half-horse, half-bear, like the beasts the riders that had taken Daemon had ridden—spewed plumes of smoke from their flared nostrils. It wafted under my window and vaporised behind us.

We passed fields and trees and a river, and then we were climbing. The scenery changed to low, neat buildings—a town. We turned onto a private road that ended in gates painted gold and white—some kind of metal twisted into flowery shapes. Several carriages were already parked beyond those gates. The large building beyond was lit up with lanterns. They hung from the trees and balanced on sticks, creating a path up to the building, a huge sprawling building, with towers.

The gates opened and we were through. Then it hit me. Daemon was in here somewhere and it was up to me to get him out.

So what’s the plan?

I don’t fucking know.

Stop swearing!

Sorry.

I shook my head. Why the hell was I apologising to my inner voice? My annoying Clay voice.

Bernie applied a little pressure to the small of my back, and I smiled to hide my nerves. The mansion was massive, elaborate, and filled with Infernan nobles: tall and regal-looking beings that, for all intents and purposes, looked human. If not for the strange colour of their eyes, or the multi-hues in their hair, they would easily pass as incredibly good-looking humans. On the periphery, were the Hellions, creatures of all shapes and sizes in shades of red, orange, and varying depths of black. They kept out of the way, appearing only to serve and then slipped in to the shadows.

Bernie stayed close, stopping here and there to speak to nobles in that strange otherworldly tongue. They eyed me with curiosity but never pried as to my purpose there. Bernie introduced me, in my language, simply as his guest. That seemed to be sufficient. Despite his ease, I sensed that his guard was up. His arm beneath my hand was taut, tense. He was on edge just as I was. We moved from group to group. Some spoke my language, others conversed in foreign tongues. Bernie explained that the nobles were multilingual, priding themselves on knowing every language and dialect spoken in all the realms. They were strict about tutoring their house Hellions, because a multilingual house Hellion meant an extra pair of ears at gatherings such as this. Information was power.

These Infernans were beginning to sound more and more cutthroat and calculating by the second.

We broke away from a small group of nobles that Bernie had been speaking to, and I exhaled then blinked in surprise. I hadn’t realised I’d been holding my breath.

“Where is she?” I asked.

Bernie glanced about, his eyes straying to the top of the wide, curved staircase that opened up onto a balcony on the first floor. “Brialla likes to make an entrance. Tonight, with her prize returned to her, she’ll make an even bigger one.”

I rolled my eyes. She sounded like a total twat. “So what do we do? We approach her and negotiate?”

“Most definitely not. If we negotiate privately she’ll turn us down for sure. Brialla is selfish, she cares only for her own pleasure and, from what I hear, Daemon gave her plenty of that. No. We call her out in front of everyone. We put her on the spot and we force her hand. She may not care about the mines, but the other nobles do. She won’t be able to turn us down without causing an uproar, or losing the possibility of a place on the council.”

“Sounds good.” And it did sound good. This new Bernie, his speech, his bearing, it was more . . . regal. I liked it, but, strangely, I missed my Bernie, the crass, sometimes coarse, woman that I’d shared a laugh with, whom I’d trusted with my life every time I went into the Cusp.

I looked up to catch him staring at me. “What?”

His expression softened. “It’s still me, Ash. You know that, right?”

I looked deep into those hazel eyes flecked with gold and amber, searching for the woman I knew. If I focused on just his eyes then I could see her. My Bernadette. She was still there, still the same person underneath.

“Ash?”

“I see you, Bernie.”

Bernie smiled and then straightened abruptly. “Here she comes.”

I turned, nonchalant, to follow his gaze, but I might as well have been obvious about it, everyone else was. The conversation dialled down until it was a low hum and all eyes were on the stunning woman gliding down the stairs. Her crimson hair was piled high on her head with tendrils left to fall loosely about her heart-shaped face. Her lips were rosy and glossy, and her cheeks still held the plumpness of youth. Compared to the other nobles, she was tiny, probably the same height as me. Coupled with her youthful face, it gave her an almost childlike impression, all except for her eyes. Her eyes ruined the illusion: dark, almost black eyes that seemed to suck at the energy in the room, devouring it. Those eyes were filled with too much knowledge, an all-encompassing void. I honestly believed I was staring into an abyss of evil.

My assessment only took a few seconds, and then Daemon came into view. He strode several steps behind Brialla. He held his head high, his eyes blazing with defiance. I almost didn’t notice the shackles that bound his wrists in front of him. The thin, silver chain connected those shackles to her, tied neatly at her wrist like a pretty decoration.

Fucking bitch.

I shifted in agitation as Daemon’s gaze swept over me. A slight frown marred his forehead.

Brialla passed right by us, and I realised she was, in fact, much smaller than I had first thought. Her head was barely at my shoulder. I stepped back to let her pass and clenched my fists to prevent myself reaching out to Daemon as he passed a moment later. His nostrils flared as he moved away. He shook his head infinitesimally and tucked in his chin.

He didn’t want me here. That was obvious. He was trying to protect me, and maybe he was right, maybe I shouldn’t be here, but I owed it to him to try. Besides, there was no way I was leaving him to that bitch’s mercy.

The hum of conversation grew, a strange excitement in the inflection and tone of the outlandish language around me. I wished I could understand what they were saying.

“They’re wondering how she got him back. Why he came back. They’re wondering if they’ll be invited to the show,” Bernie said.

“What show?”

“The show she’s bound to put on to prove her control over him. She’ll make him bleed, torture him until he breaks, until he’s back under her control. Since he left, her mastery has been under question. Brialla doesn’t like being questioned.”

A hot flush crept up my skin, and I clenched my fists, digging my nails into the palms of my hands. I didn’t know Daemon that well, but I sensed that despite his sexual issues, he was a good guy. He could have forced himself on me when I went into his lair, he could have taken what he needed, but he didn’t. He gave me the chance to run, and now, thinking on it, I couldn’t help but believe his issues were somehow directly related to his time as Brialla’s plaything. If so, he’d come too far to fall once again.

“We need to approach her now, quickly, before this . . . show,” I said.

Bernie pressed his lips together. “She’s angling for a seat on the council, has been for a while now.” He glanced about. “All the council members are here. I have a feeling she intends to invite them, to invite me, to the show, a chance for her to demonstrate her mastery over her abomination and reinforce her position as a contender for the open seat. Unfortunately, sadism is a highly prized quality in an Infernan noble.”

My eyes found Daemon’s back, broad and solid and covered in some kind of silky material. A shirt that looked out of place on him. “We need to act before she starts hurting him.”

Bernie was silent, and I broke contact with Daemon’s back to shoot him a glance. His eyes were narrowed as he considered me.

“What?”

“Has something happened between you two?” Bernie asked.

Was that jealousy in his tone? It made me uncomfortable. I mean, what did he have to be jealous about? I could fuck whom I pleased.

But he obviously has a thing for you.

What?

Seriously, stop pretending to be dumb. Bernie always had a thing for you. You just chose not to acknowledge it.

“You know what, forget it. I don’t need to know. None of my business.” Bernie looked away, focusing on the crowd once more, but there was a tightness in his jaw that hadn’t been there before.