King Cave (63 page)

My heart was crushed so badly I could barely breathe, my pants coming in great gulps as I carefully climbed onto the nearest side of the bed. Setting my items aside, a soft whimper escaped as I crawled to him. Normally this close I could feel his heat. But as I lay on my side directly beside him, I actually felt a chill coming from his body, instead of a Com-like fever when diseases hit. Death was approaching.

Resting on one elbow, I bent my face over his. His eyes didn’t move beneath their lids as some do in sleep. Instead, they were peaceful. His face glistened with his cold sweat, his lips dry and cracked, and his pallor hideous. My tears fell upon his face and he didn’t stir.

Leaning down, I swallowed through the blockage in my throat that physically hurt and began placing light kisses on his face. His forehead. His eyebrows. His eyelids. His cheeks. The tip of his nose. His chin. Staring at his lips, I brushed them with mine, the barest touch.

Pulling back, I lifted one of his heavy arms and placed its slack weight over my shoulder, resting against his side and lying my head on his shoulder. As I intertwined his fingers with mine, my eyes burned fiercely as our ruling rings sparkled in the lamplight.

As he lay dying, I held him, letting my tears fall as they may.

Voice hoarse and trembling as badly as he was, I began explaining, “So, I have a plan.” I sniffed hard, which didn’t help much as I still couldn’t breathe. “I think sometimes we’re all dumbasses. And Antonio has to live with us. Deal with us.” I rubbed my thumb slowly back and forth over his. “And he knows the future. But what would you do if you knew the future? You certainly couldn’t tell anyone because that might alter it, but that’s not to say you can’t give hints and pray that the dumbasses around you would understand.”

Rubbing my cheek against his cooling flesh, I stopped when another sob racked my body until I was able to pull myself together. Pushing my face closer to his neck, I kissed his jaw gently. “He said,
she travels the journey alone
.” I kissed his jaw again. “He never once glanced at you. If someone was going to die, if it was someone’s time, others would normally say goodbye, even if it was secretive. He never did for you.”

I nuzzled my face against his neck. “Which means you’re going to live.” Gently, I sat up, his arm sliding down and catching on my hip. Staring down at his face, I ran my fingers over his cheek. “And it means my journey isn’t done yet.” Placing one last kiss on his mouth, staying there against the lips and skin and scent, which were him but also not, I wept. I only pulled away when I was afraid he couldn’t breathe. Resting my hand on his cheek, I whispered, “You made the call to say goodbye, and now I’m doing the same, because I have no clue what I’m getting myself into.” I echoed his previous words. “I love you. Just remember that.”

Staring down at him, I took a fortifying breath before rolling away. I had to talk to a Mage. Grabbing my case and gun off the bed, I took one last look before exiting the room just as quietly as I had entered. And stopped dead in my tracks.

Bindi was still in the other room, but Cahal wasn’t with her anymore. I knew this because he was standing with his back against the wall beside Ezra’s door, hands clasped in front of him, head bowed. His eyes weren’t closed, but he never once glanced at me even though I stood less than a foot from him. And I knew without a doubt that his hearing could have picked up whatever I had said inside the room for however long he had been standing there for. And I didn’t really have time to deal with his intellectual questioning.

I waited for his fury at my intrusion, but he said nothing and moved not at all.

Maneuvering around him, not turning my back on him, I crept across the room. Unlocking the door swiftly, I slipped outside before he came back from his grief to delay my quest. Bonnie was standing there silently. I had no clue where she came from, but I motioned for her to follow as I began racing down the twisting hallways.

Everyone moved for me, all Mys alike, getting the hell out of my way without me having to say a word or glance in their direction. I ran with purpose until I stopped in front of Antonio’s office door. I debated a polite gesture, but then just barged in. Eyes scanning the room, I saw that it was empty.

Shouting in frustration, I stalked the room, wondering where the hell I could find him because I didn’t know where his suite was. He could possibly be in the dining hall or a conference room or in the pools. Any was a strong possibility. Or, unfortunately, he might not be at King Cave at all, doing God knows what.

I stopped and rubbed my face. I needed him. I needed another damn hint to keep me sane.

Scrubbing at my scratchy eyes, deciding I would try the pools first since they were closest, I blinked and stopped. Bent down, peering closer at the coffee table. On it was a rusty brass doorknocker. Beside it a note, written in a man’s scrawl I didn’t recognize.

Reading it slowly, my breath caught.
When death knocks,
knock
back.

Oh, hell yes.
Grabbing the rusty brass handle, which was in the shape of a horseshoe, I felt Mage magic sizzle in my hands. I did as the note said. I knocked with it. Something tried to appear before me, but it quickly fizzled out.

I stared. Then blinked. Realization dawned.

I needed to get the hell out of King Cave and try this again. It was dark magic. Nothing like that worked inside the cave. Only pure Mage magic worked.

Without hesitation I raced from the room, Bonnie hot on my heels. I bypassed the main areas so I didn’t draw even more attention to myself, and then stopped to walk sedately through the cave’s main entrance. It was hard to keep from running as soon as my shoes hit the sand, but I stayed steady and began heading down the beach as if I was only going for a normal stroll, so that no guards were alerted.

Feeling the boundary of the Mage’s protection magic drawing closer, I peeked over my shoulder. The guards were talking amongst themselves, not paying me any mind, so I quickly slipped to the side, out of their view thanks to the sand dunes, and raced through the protection ward. I felt the familiar zap, especially when it encountered my hand that fisted the knocker. It didn’t want to pass through, but I grunted and yanked with all of my Shifter strength. And still, as I fell on my butt when it released, I was pretty sure it only did so because it was going out instead of in.

Jumping to my feet, I didn’t bother wiping the sand off my black cargos, and I grabbed my case and gun I had dropped. And raised my hand. Placed the knocker a few inches taller than me, less than a foot ahead. I used it, knocking into thin air.

My eyes widened as a golden door shimmered and wavered in front of me, quickly becoming a solid gold door with a glimmering doorknob. I glanced around it, but it only looked like a door standing tall in the middle of the beach. Eyeing it, I pocketed the handle, then palmed my gun.

Hearing footsteps racing my way, I didn’t look back and quickly opened the door. It swung open and a blast of cold winter air blew against my face and body, making me shiver. Tiny flakes of snow drifted through the doorway to instantly melt against the heat of the beach. Through the open doorway it was night, the full moon shining down on a ton of trees, the forest’s floor covered in snow. Directly in the center of it, almost fifty yards away, was a log home, two stories tall with a wraparound porch, snow covering its overhang and roof, smoke billowing from its chimney and its windows lit merrily.

It looked like a Christmas card, it was so picturesque, but I could feel the taint of black magic surrounding it, ruining its beautiful effect. But that didn’t matter because I needed to get through the door before whoever was almost on me stopped me from doing this. So I stepped through, my feet crunching and falling down into six inches of snow, Bonnie following dutifully even as she hissed.

Instantly, the door disappeared, only the forest behind us. It was eerily silent. Unlike the normal sounds you would hear in a location such as this. Even the wind made no noise through the trees as it blew snow down on me.

The feeling now surrounding me was reminiscent to what Southern Coms called bad juju.

Flatly, it felt
wrong
.

I shivered, not from the cold, and started trekking toward the log home. Bonnie moved with me, growling softly and scanning the area. It was my destination and I wasn’t about to stop now. My husband would live. No matter the cost to myself.

Getting to the cabin was harder than originally appeared. Minutes stretched into an hour. Every foot I put forward seemed to make the cabin that much farther. Some type of spell to keep others away. Eventually I began to tire, but I pushed onward and began to run.

I needed in there.

Now.

And abruptly — unexpectedly — Bonnie and I were on the front porch. Still running. I skidded to a stop on the slick snow and banged into the front door, Bonnie having less trouble.

As I cursed, rubbing my shoulder, I heard a cackle from inside. Someone thought they were damn funny. But I straightened and didn’t growl in anger when the door opened only moments later. A Mage woman, appearing eighty Com-years old, stood inside the lit entry.

Her clothes looked like a gypsy’s. Her shirt was made of cotton, gold and flared at the cuffs. Her ankle-length skirt was also cotton, black and ruffled. Her wrists were adorned with gold bracelets. And her gnarled, wrinkly feet were bare. Tipping her head to the side and peering down at me, her waist-length golden hair fell over her shoulder.

I barely kept from staring. But not because she was dressed for balmy weather while there were the makings of a blizzard outside. I had to avert my eyes because her own eyes were black. This was odd because all Mages had a variation of golden eyes, but hers were completely black. As in, not even white showed. I knew instantly — her scent surrounding me — it was because she had been practicing dark magic for a very long time.

She stiffened and whispered, “Not yet.”

I peered up at her, staring at her forehead. “Yes, now. I need to speak with you.”

She was still for so long that I wasn’t sure she would allow me access, but eventually she moved aside, whispering, “Justice.”

Carefully, I toed the entrance. I felt nothing awful, so I stepped through, Bonnie pretty much imitating me. The place was just so wrong, it was throwing my senses out of whack. Although, at first glance, it was like any other Mage home. Gold galore in the entry, in the living room to the left, in the dining room to the right, and in a long hallway and wooden staircase straight ahead.

Except for, at a closer inspection, the tiny jars on the shelves lining the walls. The glasses were golden and inside each of them were items I hastily averted my gaze from. I was pretty sure inside the first ones I had seen there were fingers, small animals, and a shitload of eyeballs. I didn’t look again.

She shut the door behind me. There was no lock. I didn’t expect it. She didn’t need it.

She crossed her arms. “How did you get here, Queen Ruckler?”

My lips thinned at hearing a creak upstairs, like someone was walking around. “I used a knocker.” She knew who I was. “Who else is in the house?”

“No one who will harm you right now,” she mumbled absently, holding out her hand. “Return.” I blinked and stared at her bony hand, and quickly patted my pocket. The knocker was gone from me. Now in her fisted palm.

Fuck, I’ll just have to worry about getting back later.

Absently, she shook the knocker then stopped, and started cackling. “Ah, now…now…” She waggled the knocker. “I had wondered who stole this so long ago.” She chuckled deeply. “He thinks he’s so pure, going along with the universe’s master plan.” She spat to the side, her spit sizzling on the hardwood floor at her feet. “A bona-fide thief, he is, sneaking in here without me knowing.”

Ignoring her rant, I cleared my throat. “I’ve come because—”

She waved the hand with the knocker, shushing me. “I know why you’ve come. The question is, how far will you go to make it happen?” She didn’t wait for my answer, turning and walking into the living room on the left.

I followed, watching her approach a large wooden hutch, which glowed golden. “What do I need to do to save his life?”

She swung open the doors to the hutch, placing the knocker inside. “There are three things that I want from you in return.” Her back was still to me as she spoke and rifled through the cluttered contents of the spelled cabinet. She pulled out a small vial of black and gold liquid and shut the doors, turning to me.

I stared at the, now, locked hutch. “What are those three things?”

“One. You will kill this Mys, if you live through this.” She waved her hand, and suddenly, a translucent image of a man appeared beside her.

I stiffened, knowing him. “Why do you wish for his death?”

She flicked a finger, the image gone. “It is none of your concern.”

I stared where the image had been, my stomach rolling in nausea. “And the second?”

She cackled, glancing over her shoulder to a window then back at me. “Two. When a Mys by the name of Tipkin arrives, you will not disregard him as others do, making the mission he desires happen, if you live through this.”

Well, that one wasn’t so bad.
A roll of my shoulders. “The third?”

“Three. You will shoot to kill when needed, if you live through this. The individuals will be unknown to you until it’s time, but I tell you now, it is no one you love or hold dear.”