Shadowstorm (The Shadow World Book 6) (19 page)

“It is well,
i’lyren.
Do not be afraid. I think I understand.”

Relieved, Deven closed his eyes, breathing hard from the near-panic that had gripped him for a moment. He thought back to what Kai had said, and told him softly, “I never meant to hurt Nico. I still don’t. Tell me you believe that.”

A sigh. “I believe you. I would not be here if I truly thought you had intended any of this. You have been bleeding for most of your life, and losing your Consort was one wound more than you could bear. I understand that. And I understand your fear.”

If Deven had been upright he might have sunk into a chair with relief, but instead he just buried his face as deeply into Kai’s neck as he could. Gradually he felt the Bard relax, returning to the level of comfort they’d been enjoying with each other.

“You are a treasure,” Kai said, his voice vibrating against Dev’s temple. “And, just to alleviate your fears, no—I am not looking for another lover, and my history is made up of, let’s estimate, 80% women. I have lived too long to stick to the same thing forever, of course, but for the most part it is females with whom I walk into the woods.”

“Good…I mean, that we have incompatible preferences. I have this tendency to do stupid things that hurt people if I’m left alone with a mutual attraction.”

He’d told Kai about his history with David, and with Miranda—clearly the Elf was smitten with the Queen, and when Kai said she had confessed to similar feelings, Deven was surprised. He had always been taken aback with Miranda’s acceptance of her Prime’s voracious heart, but hearing she was even remotely entertaining the idea of a full-on polyamorous arrangement of four, even just as a dalliance, Deven had been genuinely shocked.

She must have been so confused by all of this…God, no wonder she said she needed someone to talk to…I should have…what am I thinking? I’m the last person she should look to for relationship advice. Look what I’ve done to everyone I’ve touched.

Kai raised an eyebrow, not liking the direction Deven’s mood was headed. “I find it interesting,” he said, “that you place the blame for all of these events on yourself, when there was always at least one other person who participated. Why is it more your fault than theirs? The Prime is an adult. So is my brother. So was your Consort. We all make our own decisions, my Lord. You give yourself too much credit—unless I am gravely misinformed, you are not a god, nor have you ever forced anyone to lay mouth or hand upon you.”

Before Deven could frame a reply, a knock at the suite door nearly sent him flying out of the bed. He turned over to face the room’s entrance, about to ask who on earth would come to see him, but the door was already opening.

“I know you don’t want visitors,” came a familiar voice, “but I thought you should at least know…that…”

David stared at them for an uncomfortably long moment. Deven realized with a lurch that this must look like exactly what he and Kai had just established it certainly wasn’t.

Sure enough, when David finally spoke again, it was in that deadly quiet voice that Deven recognized all too well from a thousand nights that had ended in beheadings.

“What…the hell…is going on here?”

Kai’s temper flared. “It is none of your affair what is going on here, and if you are not going to give Deven the respect of waiting to enter until invited, there is certainly no reason for him to explain himself to you.”

David’s eyes grew cold, their irises starting to pale, and his hand moved to the hilt of the Oncoming Storm.

Deven winced as Kai made a disdainful sound. The Elf was brave, and could be a match for David in the energy department, but no one, not even a cocky Bard, should ever, ever attempt to stand up to the Prime of the South once his hand was on that hilt.

“Go ahead,” Kai told David. “Attack me. See what your Queen and your lover have to say about that.”

The silver edge in David’s eyes spread deeper, and their perimeter began to darken to black.

“Wait just a goddamned minute,” Deven snapped, sitting up. “Both of you need to calm the hell down. Kai—you are powerful and treated like a demigod in Avilon, but I will remind you whose house you are in. Whatever you think of him the Signet should command your respect if nothing else. And David, there is nothing going on here but talking — we’re friends, that’s all.” At David’s dubious eyebrow, Deven said, “I give you my word.”

David looked a little shocked that Deven, who had barely lifted his gaze from the ground in months, had at least for the moment become something of himself again. He didn’t back down, but he did take his hand off the sword, and after a moment his eyes started to fade back into blue.

Kai’s aura also pulled back into itself—God, they were like a couple of bulls butting heads over a cow.

Deven took a deep breath. “All right. What do you want?”

David continued to stare daggers at the Elf for another second before answering. “I came to tell you that Olivia has found her Consort.”

Now, it was Deven’s turn for shock. “Where? Who?”

“Miranda’s tour stopped in New York last night—the man we were hoping would eventually become Second was her head of security, and the moment he and Olivia saw each other, her Signet lit up like a marquee. Miranda says they have absolutely no idea what to do with each other, and are just sort of sitting and staring — I told her that’s the first stage and she should let them be.”

“Wait…Second?” Surely he didn’t mean…

“Yes, Israel’s former right hand, the one the Mossad recommended. Avishai Shavit.”

Deven stared at him, mouth dropping open, the sheer ludicrous enormity of the news causing something in his brain to flatline for a moment. “What?”

The Prime sighed. “I don’t know much about him, on a personal level, so I have no idea whether to be glad for Olivia or worried. Obviously the Signet wants the former, but…you mentioned once you’d heard of Shavit. Do you know anything about him that we don’t?”

Deven couldn’t help it—he laughed. Again, David looked astonished, and glanced at Kai, then back, tacitly acknowledging the change in the fallen Prime just in the last few days.

“Yes,” Deven said, shaking his head wryly. “Yes, you could say I do.”

Chapter Seven

She took the stairs down two at a time and hit the ground running, handing off her guitar to Harlan—he and the other guards would make sure her things got where they belonged, but she couldn’t stand another minute anywhere but in her Haven, or rather, with her Prime.

He’d said he was going to meet her at the airstrip, but she didn’t give him a chance; it was only a ten minute walk, or a five minute run, from there to home. They’d had the strip built last year to bypass questions about weapons from TSA. It had saved hours from every trip they’d made, and if she’d really tried she could have Misted from there, but she still hated Misting unless it was necessary and after hours stuck on that plane she wanted nothing more than to run, hair flying, boots thudding quietly on the ground.

As she came around the corner to the Haven’s front entrance she saw the doors open, saw a dark figure emerge no doubt intent on going west along the same path she’d just run east, and before he could even reach the steps, Miranda had flung herself into him, only centuries of practice and immortal strength keeping the embrace from becoming a tackle.

He laughed, and his arms wrapped around her and held tight as he spun her around, absorbing the impact. His heart was pounding with hers, and she pressed into him as hard as she could. By the time her feet hit the stones again his mouth had already claimed hers.

In that kiss she felt the slowly-encroaching misery of the last three weeks, a pain he’d been fighting off less and less successfully the last few days…and, with a long exhalation, she felt that pain ease as the energy between them balanced itself, restoring their precious equilibrium and setting everything right with the world again.

Miranda kissed him harder, pushing three weeks’ worth of pent-up desire and vicarious pleasure back at him so he’d see just what she’d been dealing with. He’d had the novelty and wonder, not just of new love, but of learning how to be with an entirely new race, so his level of sexual frustration was a tiny, rather smug thing compared to the howling demon horde that had taken possession of her hips.

“I must beg your forgiveness, my Queen,” he murmured, kissing down the side of her neck. “Allowing you to sleep in a solitary bed day after day is torture of the cruelest kind.”

“I accept your contrition…but penance must be paid.”

“Name your terms, my Lady. I am your humble servant.”

“Damn right you are.” She grabbed him by the arm and hauled him into the house, ignoring the grins they got from the door guards.

She didn’t remember the trek from the front door to their suite being so goddamned long before.

By some miracle, her luggage had reached the suite first—the Haven staff was arcanely efficient. That was good; it meant no interruptions. She had no place to be until after sunset, giving her the entire day to repeatedly accept her husband’s penitence.

He was disinclined, or perhaps too wise, to argue, and instead of telling her how much he missed her, he picked her up and set about stripping off her clothes between the door and the bed. Once there she took hold of his belt and hauled him down with her, trying not to claw off his shirt—it was one of his favorites and she’d already left nail holes in much of his collection.

She had intended to just let the fever she’d been battling rise up and engulf them both, and to spend hours biting and screaming, and frightening the servants, but she found that, when she finally had his body against hers again, blue eyes locked on her green, that driving need had become something different, and she slowed down, putting both hands on his face and locking gazes for a moment.

“Welcome home, Miranda,” he said softly.

Suddenly she couldn’t speak—there was too much tumult in her heart, emotion after emotion trying to take over. It all became a single ache, one she couldn’t articulate even if she’d wanted to. She nodded silently, blinking back tears.

He smiled and kissed her again, this time taking her cue and slowing down, removing what was left of her clothing little by little and nipping lightly at the newly exposed skin. She snaked her arms up to do the same to him.

Curious, she ran her senses over him to see if his attention was at all divided, but whatever extracurricular activities he’d been occupied with these weeks, there was only one lover on his mind right now, only one heart whose happiness he would break the world to ensure. Sighing, she lay back and closed her eyes, hands drifting—one up around the headboard, the other around his neck as he devoted himself to re-learning her skin with his mouth.

At the center of a world spinning off balance into war and destruction, with sadness and fear waiting to attack at every crossroads, there was one thing, the stillpoint of darkness and light, that mattered above all else. Two red stones glowed in the candlelit room, two pairs of black eyes for just a moment filled with stars, two heartbeats fell into a single rhythm.

All of Morningstar could have poured into the room and lit the bed on fire—she could have destroyed them all with a glance. There was no force evil enough to overcome the simple truth that together they were unstoppable…now, and always.

*****

“How do I look?”

Stella grinned. “Kind of weird, but also kind of hot.”

Nico looked down at himself, biting his lip. “Are you sure this is necessary? I feel like a clown.”

She giggled and came up behind him, sliding her arms around his waist. “Honey, if you go to Miranda’s concert in Elf robes you’re going to stand out way more than in pants. Don’t worry—I think Kai’s dressing in human drag too. I have no idea what he’s going to do with all that hair, though.”

Nico toyed with his sleeves nervously. He had only been out in the city a handful of times, back at the beginning when David had been trying to teach him to hunt. The Shadow District had been too much for him—all that darkness and hunger, and he so vulnerable—and large groups of humans had terrified him.

Tonight, though, he was feeling a lot better, and it would be a pretty simple outing; they only had to walk about a block to the theater’s rear entrance, and they’d be up in a special seating area apart from the crowd. He’d be surrounded by Kai, Stella, and David, and if anything could get past all three of them, he was doomed anyway. He had to start somewhere.

Kai appeared in the doorway. He was splendid as always, in his usual dark colors chosen specifically to set off his eyes. He’d pulled his hair back and braided it in the Elven fashion—younger Elves loved doing their hair up in complicated configurations, but after about 200 most opted for the simplicity of unbound hair, or a couple of braids on each side to keep it out of the face for important work. Kai often kept his back when he was practicing or teaching, so it wasn’t entirely strange to see, although the way he’d doubled its length on itself to make it appear shorter was odd.

“Very nice,” Stella told the Bard. “You don’t exactly look human but I think you’ll both pass.”

Stella for her part was rather amazing to behold. She’d reverted to her pigtails and striped arm warmers, big platform boots, and a ruffled skirt with what looked like polka dots but were in fact skulls. Nico was amazed at the sight of her with eyeliner and black lipstick, tiny sparkling gems dotting her temples. It looked like several different fashion styles had mated hastily in a closet and fallen out covered in glitter.

Nico absolutely loved it.

Kai gave the Witch a once-over and shook his head. “You would scandalize our entire population,” he said. “Excellent work.”

“You seem excited,” Nico observed of his twin.

“I am. I’ve been wanting to see Miranda work her gift on a crowd—I want to see how it compares to the way I use mine. She mentioned so casually that she’d influenced audiences in the thousands. That kind of power…I cannot wait to see it.”