Fire Kissed (32 page)
They approached each other—Kaye, Bastian, and Khan meeting in the middle with Mason and her father. None would shake hands, which was only smart, but the introductions were made.
“I had no knowledge that anyone here intended to kill Kaye,” Mason said. “That mage, Kyoko, was included as an emissary from the Eastern Houses. We’ve been in careful talks with them for the past year, but I think, obviously, their position has changed.”
Kaye shook her head. The Eastern Houses had their own Councils, just one more faction with its own agenda.
“They’ve also been in contact with Grey,” her father said. “We’d hoped this meeting would sway them to our side. I don’t understand why they’d want Brand killed instead. Would’ve been nice to question her.”
Mason looked at Bastian and Khan. “Regardless, your daughter has formidable protection.”
“She doesn’t need my protection,” Khan answered. “Knock her down, and she will only rise again. It’s her nature.”
A swell of feeling rushed Kaye’s breast that he should think her powerful when she was quivering in her boots.
“So the two of you are associated with Segue?” Mason asked, and the conversation turned to wraiths and Segue’s mission. Bastian was dodging the necessity to lie, which made her smile, and Khan was enjoying himself by entangling the angel in more untruths.
Kaye excused herself to say hello to Marcell, who looked so alone among the group.
“Once I build, you are welcome in my house,” she said.
“I won’t live there,” he answered. “I only came to let you know that I’m going away for a while.”
“You’re going away?”
“If I have your permission.” He didn’t like asking.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Kaye said. This whole vassal thing was uncomfortable. “You can go whenever, wherever you want.” He was young, twenty at the most, but then, she’d been on her own since she was fifteen. “Do you need anything?” She didn’t offer money.
“Not from you.” He turned and stalked into the woods.
She watched, vowing to keep an eye on him. Keep him safe, for his father’s sake.
“Angry kid,” Gail said.
Kaye turned, a smile ready. This one was for her. Then she’d have to make the rounds with Mason and her father to at least meet the mages who had remained behind before returning to check on the construction of Brand House.
House. Vassals. Mantle. Assassin. It was a lot for one day.
“How are you?” Kaye tried for a warm voice. A woman friend. It would be good to have one of those.
“Better.” Gail smiled back. “My aunt didn’t want me anymore, so my cousin took me in.”
Kaye looked to where Gail pointed. “Mason?” Then he couldn’t be that bad. The aunt sounded like a witch. What was it with mage families and their young?
Gail did a surreptitious look around, then leaned in, as she had in the kitchen when she’d warned Kaye about Grey. Kaye leaned in as well. Innocent gesture until Gail took her hand.
Suddenly, Kaye had no will to pull out of her grasp.
“Gail” hovered on another face, so that two women gripped her: the one she liked, and someone else familiar. One of the many mages she’d been introduced to—but when, where?
“You will do me no harm. You will do Grey no harm. You will return to him at your earliest opportunity, when no one will notice you missing. And you will tell no one of this meeting, or of me.”
Kaye almost laughed. Like hell she’d return to Grey. She’d never leave Bastian like that again, not while she was living. And she’d burn up this bitch and inform Mason that he had two traitors in his group today. And, yes, soon, she’d deal with Grey too. She’d make it quick, and then everyone could move on with their lives.
But she was doing none of those things. She tried for fire, found it smothered. Tried to step back, but she kept leaning forward, as if listening pleasantly. She tried to yell, but her voice wouldn’t cooperate. All the while, her mind went mad.
Lorelei Blake, that’s who it was, the lure whom Grey himself had warned her about the night of her welcome back party. And hadn’t Grey also cast an illusion in the cellar? An engagement ring, Kaye remembered, a token of his affection. It was the Shadow he’d stolen from Darshana Maya. And the illusion now made everyone see Gail and not Lorelei.
Someone had to have been watching when Kaye had spoken with Gail that night at Grey House, and Grey had found out about their tentative friendship. The assassin with the knife had belonged to the Eastern Houses, an unsettling thought, but Lorelei Blake absolutely belonged to Grey.
And now Kaye did too.
The drive back was quieter than Jack anticipated. Kaye was sunk deep in her thoughts. Khan had taken his direct route through Twilight to the inn and Layla, always astonishing, and Jack had to wonder again what power Kaye could have to keep the Shadow of Death at bay. Fire was just as elemental, but ... ?
Beside him, Kaye seemed troubled—they’d discovered new dangers today, but he’d be by her side to counsel her and to catch the knives at her back, literal and metaphorical. The sad tension around her eyes had to be caused by thoughts of her father. Jack wanted to question her, gently, about how she was doing, if she’d considered taking her father into Brand House when it was completed, or if she’d leave him to the mercy of someone else’s wards. But those discussions were for later, when she had distance from the encounter.
“What did you think of Mason?” he tried. The drive was smooth, the afternoon sun just cresting the sky.
She shrugged. “I think he’s like the group he had with him today.”
“Indiscriminate,” Jack agreed. “He was shifty regarding his House too. Some mystery there.”
“Houses are hard to take sometimes,” Kaye said and looked out the window again.
Silence lapsed until Kaye indicated a preference to go to the building site first, and Jack thought that actually might help her. It was built on the Brand legacy, yet was her own. The past was easier to deal with when the future seemed bearable. Jack knew from experience. His memories of war hadn’t bothered him for days.
They parked and walked across the property, a new driveway having been bulldozed earlier that day. The turned earth was dark, smelled fresh in spite of the industry beyond. Steel girders were being craned into position to frame out the interior. Shadow reached upward from the foundation like octopus arms to grasp the lengths of metal and hold them in place while others worked. The thoughts among the angels building were hopeful, satisfaction and pleasure in a job well done and the promise of what such collaboration between a mage and an angel might mean.
Jack looked down at Kaye beside him, who still seemed forlorn.
You sold my youth
echoed in his mind, so he put his arms around her. “It’s quite something to see how much progress they’ve made, isn’t it?”
You sold my youth
echoed in his mind, so he put his arms around her. “It’s quite something to see how much progress they’ve made, isn’t it?”
He meant, look ahead. Imagine tomorrow.
“I’m amazed,” she agreed.
Still not quite there.
“We could help out for a while. Might make you feel better.”
A fierce emotion overcame her features, but she nodded. He wanted to get his hands dirty, hammer the nails himself for the place that would shelter her. Feel that body exhaustion that came from building, not cutting down. And then enjoy rejuvenating later.
She was called to examine the blueprints. Her “whatever is good” answer didn’t cut it with anyone.
“At least come see,” said the foreman/angel.
“You know how particular you are,” Jack chided. She didn’t have to be shy because The Order was building her house. When had she ever been shy? He’d actually enjoy her bossing them around a little. Let them see her fire. He hoped they’d made her closet very small.
The last image Jack saw of her was ingrained in his mind. She was walking across the construction-littered dirt, an angel’s hand at her elbow to keep her steady on those high heels. Wind whipped her hair. She looked back over her shoulder, face pale, eyes so dark, and then Jack dropped his gaze to pick up a hammer.
Chapter 17
Kaye dug her fingernails into the plywood table set up for examining blueprints and felt her manicure splinter with the strength of her grip. The wind was gusty, carrying blasts of cold, but it was nothing compared to the force that yanked at her to leave the site of Brand House and travel to Grey. Every time she’d tried to speak of the compulsion, no words would come out. She couldn’t scream, she couldn’t gesture, nothing that would communicate the dictates of the lure. She’d hoped, prayed even, that the ward stones might help, which was why she’d agreed to come here and not the inn. But the lure’s magic had ensnared her umbra, put it in a birdcage of her will, and carried it away by a hand of Shadow.
For the first time in her life, Kaye saw her penumbra, her foregoing intention, in a dirty trail that led north. She might grip the table until her fingers bled, but she knew she would eventually follow that path of Shadow. Her flesh was nothing, incidental. The umbra inside was her life, and it was caught on a very long hook. Deep inside, her umbra thrashed as she resisted.
She was battering herself by resisting. Doing damage and weakening her Shadow.
Then go? It was the only other alternative.
Face Grey strong.
But would that only give him more power when he touched her? Because that’s what he was going to do. Kaye was sure of it.
And yet, just this morning she’d only had to blink to kill the assassin from the Eastern Houses. And she’d held back Khan’s death Shadows. Maybe she was strong enough to break this. Or break Grey. Either was good.
She let go of the table. Her umbra beat against the bars of her rib cage.
She looked to find Bastian, but he was so far away, down in Brand Shadow. No good-bye. Again.
She’d just have to make it back. She’d promised.
“Just calm down for a minute, Jack,” Laurence was saying.
“I need keys!” Jack shouted. And he had to drop by the inn to pick something up before going on to Grey’s, though it would cost him time.
She had been going to look at blueprints. Jack knew she’d been unhappy about her father. The revelation had been difficult, but the more he thought about it, the less he believed it was the root of her melancholy. She hadn’t expected much from her father. The knife in her back? No, she’d barely batted an eye, which meant she was completely confident in herself, in him, in Khan as well. Mason or the others? They were unreliable, but not dangerous. Yet.
Then Grey? How?
Too many ways to count.
He wished he had time to go to The Order’s headquarters, arm himself properly.
Laurence commanded the angels to put down their tools. A very bad sign. But then, Grey sat in the High Seat of the Council of Mages. A strike against him was tantamount to a strike against magekind. War.
It was always going to come to war. They were ready.
“Is there any reason she might have taken off on her own?” Laurence didn’t want to fight again either. Once it started ... “Could she be on her way back to the inn?”
Jack didn’t even need a moment to think. “No.”
“Hello, darling,” Ferro said. He clasped his hands casually in front of himself, lightly touching his ring with his opposite thumb and middle finger to keep himself in check. The key was to hold on to his good mood, even though he’d itched to slap her from the moment she’d entered his house. But some of the Council members were there—Maya, Wright, Terrell—witnesses to her betrayal. Such things were necessary. “This way.”
He led the Council members into the small chamber next to his office. Wraiths brought the Brand bitch along and forced her into a chair in the center of the room. She sat at ease, as if at any moment someone would bring her a cup of coffee. She liked it sweet, with lots of cream.
Part of him still loved her.
Kaye’s black eyes laughed up at him. “You’re going to die.”
The lure had done her job well. Nothing was on fire.
Ferro waited while the others took up more comfortable seats. He took a wingback so as not to appear as though he was lording his possession of Kaye over the gathering. He was, though. Kaye was his business. She’d embarrassed him for the last time.
“Let’s begin.” He smiled to seem friendly. “Kaye Brand, I’m very troubled by a report I received today. I have a witness that places you in negotiations with a rogue faction of mages, mostly strays, but with one or two other Houses in attendance”—he looked up at the Council members—“whom we’ll deal with shortly.” Back to Kaye. “You were given a seat on the Council, and now, it appears, you plot against us. Do you deny it?”
“I don’t plot against the Council,” Kaye said. “Just you.”
Ah. “I am the High Seat.”
“You shouldn’t be. Everyone here knows it.”
Ferro looked at his fellow Council members, all loyal. They had generous stakes in the new world and were in positions to weather the shift to darkness easily. They all called him Ferro. Ferro, meaning iron. Pharaoh, meaning Great House. He’d been born for this.
“Ms. Brand. Your House has burned; you stand alone now.” Didn’t have to be this way. She could’ve been right next to him, burning into the Dark Age. “I move for the Council to deem you stray. We cannot have unallied, or suspiciously allied, mages among us during these trying times.”
“Maya will take her,” Arman said. “I can control her. My wards are open to Brand.”
Kaye stared at Arman, surprised.
So was Ferro. She’d made a friend. He counted on his fingers. Gail. Arman Maya. That was two. Good for her. She’d made some allies in his House. But was she in or was she out?
... in in in in in in in ...
Ferro smoothed his tie, ignoring the whispers. “You can’t even manage your own daughter, Arman. You’re certainly not a good patron for someone who burned her own house down.” Ferro looked to the two others. “What say you?”
... fire fire fire ...
“I was told she held back the pureblood’s Shadow,” Wright said. “We may need her, and soon. The Wright House wards are open to Brand.”
Ferro’s belly soured. As usual, Kaye’s fire brought things to light, this time treachery within his own Council. Had he been outmaneuvered? Impossible.
The woman actually had the nerve to smirk. “Your spy reported correctly.” She spoke to Wright, but she looked at Ferro. “I did hold Khan’s Shadow back. You should’ve been there. I was a little fabulous.”
He used to like her vanity. Now, however ...
“Terrell?” He could count on his vote. They’d been in this game from the beginning.
“Stray.” Raiden’s shifty eyes looked to the door; he wanted out.
Good. “Two votes for, two against, but since I am the High Seat, the vote is official. Kaye Brand, you are declared stray, at the mercy of the elements, humanity, and Order. No mage will shelter you.”
She smiled, gorgeous and bright.
He would’ve taken care of her. Given her absolutely everything.
“I make five thousand dollars per second,” Kaye said, “and the people who cross me burn. I think I’ll be okay. You, on the other hand, are looking older.”
Bravado. She wouldn’t be leaving his house. Though she was correct about one thing: He hadn’t been able to replace his angel. Usually he had one lined up before the other died. He
was
getting older.
was
getting older.
Ferro stood. “I think we’re done here. If you all don’t mind, I have a few things I’d like to say to my fiancée in private.”
Raiden exited quickly, didn’t even look behind him.
Wright rose, adjusted the sleeves of his suit jacket. “This is a mistake,” he said. To Kaye, “I’m sorry.” Then, he left too. A problem with the alliance, there.
Arman said nothing, but then his daughter was upstairs, and Lorelei was with her.
Still, Kaye had managed more support than Ferro had thought possible.
“Well done,” he said when he and Kaye were alone. “You haven’t rested a moment, have you?”
She lowered those thick lashes halfway. Her skin glowed, that generous mouth stretching into a curl.
He warmed, just looking at her. “In spite of everything, I’m still entranced. I would have given you the world.”
She made a
tsk
sound. “You couldn’t even touch me without stealing.”
tsk
sound. “You couldn’t even touch me without stealing.”
“I can’t help that,” Ferro said, “any more than you could help burning your house down.”
She made a face conceding his point. “Still makes you a parasite.”
The lure had bound her well. Her fire was checked; all she had left was attitude.
He walked a circle around her, slid his hand down the front of her shirt to rest on the silky skin of her breast. Her heart was pounding like mad. “Afraid?”
A delicious wisp of her fire entered him, though nothing like the surge he got when mounted on top of her.
“I’m a little afraid,” she said. “They will come for me, and I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“Who will?” Ferro brought his hand up to her chin. Tilted her head back so she’d have to look at him. “Your human lover?”
“I’m thinking they’ll all come.”
All. The pureblood. The human. Maybe that angel-fae monstrosity. Mason and his strays?
He pushed her head away from him and circled back around. “I’m in a warded house.”
“They’ll wait.”
“I have years’ worth of food and supplies.”
“They’ll wait years.” Her voice caught a little; she was overemotional, like a human.
Sweet Shadow. He’d have liked to fuck her one last time, but she might just be right. Her allies could be coming for her. He had allies of his own staying at Grey House, of course. Raiden could kill with Shadow.
“Huh. They care about you that much?” Ferro took her hand in his and turned it palm up. Loosened his ring.
She smiled, though her eyes were filled with pain. “I was as shocked as you are.”
“Then I’d better arm myself, eh?” And he pressed the iron circle into her palm.
A thick wave of Shadow blood flowed into him, sweet, potent, and true. The world around him wavered, as if it were a heat-induced illusion. The whispers of the fae sharpened and he saw the outlines of strange creatures prowling the room, predators looking on, yet another reason that he should take her into himself. Hers was indeed a power above all others. And now it was his.
She slid off the chair in a loose-limbed collapse. Her eyes remained parted, so she gave the impression of still being somewhat aware.
“If you could hold back Death,” Ferro said, leaning down, “then now I can too.”
Whispers woke Kaye. Her eyes wouldn’t open. Her cheek rested on a rough surface, but the rest of her was numb. Fire. She tried to lift her hand, find her hand, but her mind fuzzed, and the voices faded.
... Kaye Kaye Kaye Kaye ...
Something licked her nose. Instinct made her recoil and swat. She shifted to one elbow, which shook with her weight, then lurched up, her palm braced on cold stone. She was blind, amoebas of light swirling in her vision. Squeezing her eyes shut intensified the effect. She was in utter darkness.
A scurrying sound.
She turned her palm upward and tried for light. The spark came from within, but the Shadowfire that feathered upward, gold-orange-red, was fed by the fuel around her. Shadow.
Ferro’s cellar flickered into sight, a rimy tomb for slow dying. A rat-thing from faerie cringed in the corner. The place smelled wet and earthy.
... Kaye Kaye Kaye Kaye ...
Kaye breathed deep. Strangely, her mind was clearing. Either that or she was experiencing some deprivation-induced euphoria. No. She was feeling better, which was very strange because she was parched and cold and hungry and her body was weak.
How long had she been down here? Her heartbeat kicked up.
Bastian would know she was missing by now. He’d be frantic to reach her, but the Grey House wards wouldn’t let him pass.
As he and she had been from the beginning, they were each on separate sides of a magical line, Shadow on the one side, Order on the other.
And when Ferro was ready, he’d use her own Shadow to destroy her warrior angel.
How long? Would it really be years? She had seen the end-of-the-world supplies firsthand.
Kaye could feel her temper rising.
In spite of everything, she kept coming back to this same place. The cellar, under Grey’s power, an angel in torment, she not knowing what to do. It was a puzzle she couldn’t solve. The first time, she’d been a stupid kid far out of her depth. The second time, she’d tried to do the right thing. And now?
Other books
Darkening Chaos: Book Three of The Destroyer Trilogy by Gladden, DelSheree
Dare To Love by Trisha Fuentes
Broken Lion by Devon Hartford
Finding Haven by T.A. Foster
House of Dreams by Pauline Gedge
El cartero de Neruda by Antonio Skármeta
Chasing Shadows (A Shadow Chronicles Novel) by Moore, Christina
Ever Night by Gena Showalter
Practice Makes Perfect by Sarah Title
The Westminster Poisoner by Susanna Gregory
