The Soother (10 page)

Krystoff moved in, steered her back outside with a firm hand on her elbow. His fingers dug into her skin, and he grew unnaturally still. “They’re here because of me, Calliope.”

Instead of shrugging off his hold, she leaned into him, seeking that forbidden comfort she’d grown to crave and forcing him to soften. “They’re here because of us.”

“There’s more to it than that.”

Calliope stepped away and waved off his words. “We’re gonna have to talk about that later,” she said. “You know, time ticking and all. Many of my coven are still out there fighting. I’m hoping most have made it to the other safe houses. I haven’t even begun to check on the witches in the outer regions. My mother, Krystoff … ”

He pulled her back into his arms. She went willingly, taking the time they truly didn’t have to bask in the uncertain safety of his embrace. His shadows lingering at a safe distance allowed her to stay on her feet instead of collapsing in a fit of fatigue.

Krystoff swept his hand over her hair, and then cradled her face. A brush of his cool lips against hers and Calliope’s vision fogged.

“Tell me how to get there,” Krystoff said, pulling her out of the haze. “I can only carry one at a time, but I’ll be quick.”

She told him, in as much detail as she could without making it confusing. The trek would take at least an hour on foot. Calliope worried none of them would be here when he got back. That they’d been afforded this much time was a miracle in itself.

Krystoff stiffened.

“What is it?” she asked, following his intense gaze.

“Nothing. I thought I saw someone.” His stare held strong.

“One of them?” Calliope whispered.

He blinked and turned his head. “Not long ago I would have said no. Now? Undoubtedly.”

Krystoff stepped inside, Calliope on his heels, pondering his cryptic words. He chose the most injured, scooped her into his arms and vanished.

Rubbing her eyes, Calliope yawned, then quietly addressed the remaining, giving instructions and offering reassurances she had no business sharing. But she’d learned long ago that empty promises in the form of flowery prose eased the panicked mind more often than not.

A sigh of a breeze not five blinks later and Krystoff was once again standing beside her, nodding, scooping, disappearing.

Calliope could scarcely believe his speed. Unless he hadn’t gone where she’d directed, he was truly an incredibly powerful being. She’d experienced glimpses of that power before, barely touching it. But now, now she wanted to discover all the complexities that made him who he was. When this was over, and if he let her, she would help him find his soul. He’d very possibly just saved her people. For that reason alone, he deserved to be whole.

One by one, he shepherded her coven away. Calliope stood like a fortress, guarding her small group. It was only when several Mistropans had passed without a sideways glance, that she realized Krystoff had hidden them within his shadows. She was so very wrong. Krystoff was the fortress here. Not her.

When only she was left, Krystoff smiled, exposing cheekbones that appeared to be etched into his skin. At that moment, he reminded her of a Greek god. “It’s time to get you out of here.”

Calliope planted her feet. “Not yet. There are three more. I can’t leave without checking,” she said, backing away and shaking her head. She wasn’t going anywhere without finding her mother, Carrine and Isabelle. Bevva would have been on that list, too. But Bevva remained M.I.A. For once, Calliope was thankful for that.

“We’ll find your mother. I promise you that,” he insisted. “If you’re looking for Isabelle, I know where she is. Who else?”

He knew Isabelle? The
how
of that would need to be answered. “We’ll go together. I can’t stand being here alone any more. I have to find Carrine, too, Krystoff. I just have to.”

Krystoff nodded, whisked Calliope into his arms and flashed them away. His shadows were now a part of them and although she welcomed the warmth of sleep, she knew she had to fight it. Pretending this had all been a dream, a terrible nightmare wouldn’t make it so. They stopped, his shadows retreated, and one look at Isabelle’s tormented face told of a tale all too real.

Calliope reached Isabelle in two steps and pulled her close. “It’s okay.” A possibility wiggled its way into Calliope’s mind. She hadn’t thought Isabelle strong enough. Hadn’t thought she and Isabelle could connect in that way. Could she have been wrong? “Did you find Krystoff?”

Isabelle said nothing, but nodded.

“You did great, Isabelle. Thank you.”

Blue eyes shimmering, Isabelle mumbled, “You’re welcome.”

Calliope handed Isabelle over to Krystoff. “Get her to safety, please.”

“Consider it done.”

A flash. Gone one moment. There within ten breaths. Carrine was next. And though they searched, Calliope began to lose hope. “She’s strong. I have to believe she’ll be okay. Maybe she’s helping the others.” Calliope wobbled on her feet. “I can’t take much more. Let’s get my mother … ”

Wrapping his arms around her, Krystoff kissed the top of her head. “Where?”

“Not far.”

They found Ambra sitting in a corner of her bedroom, moaning and crooning, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. Though there was no evidence anyone had been here, she had obviously heard the sounds of battle, the screams of her sisters.

“Mama?” Calliope crouched, reached out and touched Ambra’s shaking hand.

Ambra batted her away. Krystoff stepped in, threw her over his shoulders and tugged Calliope close with a strong arm around her waist. “Hold my staff.”

“You can’t carry us both,” she replied, wrapping her hands tight around the heavy staff.

“I can and I will.”

Rage raced a hot streak through Riona’s body, igniting flames even her typically fearless shadows ran from. How dare Krystoff leave her such a vulgar message? Even without the panic-stricken Samone divulging the source, Riona recognized her son’s adolescent insolence.
Suck ass
, indeed. A befitting punishment would be to have him do just that. To a donkey. Preferably for the rest of his sorry life.

She tore the note from the quivering fae’s chest, ripped it to shreds and threw the pieces over her shoulder. As if possessed, the confetti swirled like a miniature tornado, buzzing around her head and pulling her hair out of its knot before floating away at a leisurely speed. Riona blew out a long, huffy sigh. Another one of Krystoff’s taunts, no doubt. She bound her hair into a severe twist with a quick flick of her wrist. If nothing else, she would maintain the appearance of having it together.

If Krystoff thought his jokes would hurt her feelings, he was severely wrong. She hadn’t appreciated his warped sense of humor when he was a child, and she certainly didn’t appreciate it now. His disrespect only added more fuel to the inferno of fury that already raged to dangerous heights. If Riona couldn’t manage to get her own offspring to obey, what kind of message did that send to her people?

A show of authority was in order. Immediately. She turned away from Samone to face her troops. Her dress sashaying around her ankles, she narrowed her eyes at Eron, who stood tall and proud, his chest puffed out like a conceited blowfish. Shadows that didn’t yet belong to him, but were compliments of the destroyed backdrop, flickered across his face. Eron parted his lips and took a controlled breath, pulling the shadows inside. The dark vapors crawled beneath his skin like a mole burrowing underground. He’d essentially turned free shadows into his captives, now owning them for life. Mesmerizing as that was, Riona wouldn’t get distracted. Why hadn’t Eron delivered the two witches to her? Another act of rebellion? He would have to be dealt with. But first things first.

“I am impressed by many of you.” True statement and one she didn’t offer lightly. Much of the village was consumed in flames. Dancing orange and blue sizzling serpents lit up the night sky and produced heat that could rival the flames of hell. When the fires burned out, there would be nothing but charred remains for the witches to come back to. The ones who still breathed, anyway. Her heart sped up as giddiness doused some of her anger. Many had lost their lives here tonight, and the fact that the tally of living was in her favor pleased her to no end. On the other hand …

“But I’m not so impressed with others. Not in the slightest.” She heard the rustling behind her, knew that Samone fought against the magickal restraints. What did he think? That if he broke free, he could dash away before she could capture him? Not hardly. His ignorance sealed his fate.

“My lady, please,” he begged. “Let me explain.” Riona threw up her hand, silencing Samone with her own dose of black magick. She didn’t have to turn around to know his mouth now bore a gag. The sounds of his struggle against the filthy cloth was evidence enough.

Choking on fear wouldn’t be cruel enough, wouldn’t set the proper tone. Using a combination of her nails and black magick, Riona spun and decapitated Samone with one smooth swipe. His head fell with a thud, eyes wide open as his shadows crawled out of his neck, twisting through the air, already searching for new hosts. A symphony of astonished hisses and gasps floated to her ears, and she knew her message had not only been clear, but had been taken as the warning she’d intended. Riona lifted her skirt and stepped away from the blood, frowning at the splatter on her new leather boots.

“You two,” she said, pointing to a pair of yellow-eyed shifters. “Bury him.” Fur immediately gave way to flesh, and elongated muzzles flattened into more human-like features as they rose from all fours to stand as men. Samone was one of her people after all, and as such deserved a proper burial.

She walked down the line until she came upon a disturbing being, his skin so pale she swore she could almost see the muscle and ligaments beneath. Eyes the color of clear blue crystals stared back at her, unblinking. His face showed no emotion. Never had. How Krystoff and he had become friends was beyond her, but she had every intention of using that relationship to her advantage. Didn’t hurt that she had an ace card stored away. Yes, this interesting creature would do her bidding for a long time to come.

“Nomas?” She wouldn’t give him the respect of using his given name. Since he was the only nomas she had ever come across, there was no doubt she was addressing him.

He crooked his head. His white spiky hair reminded her of the quills on an albino porcupine.

“Do whatever it is you do and find my son.”

A tight nod was the only response he gave. Fine by her. She had another situation to handle. Riona nodded, and then crooked her finger at Eron. “A word.” Certain Eron would follow, she strolled into the forest.

Back straight, Riona wiped the blood from her nails with a black lace handkerchief, then buffed them to a high shine. “My orders were clear. Where are they?”

A deep voice answered with a tone that portrayed annoyance. “Only one was present.”

“Which one?” She turned, sucked in a quiet breath. Eron stood so close, he was practically on top of her, his gleaming chest but an invitation for her tongue. Unwilling to take a step back, she waved him away with her hand.

Obviously knowing the affect he had on her, Eron quirked a smile, but distanced himself. “The dark-haired one,” he said. “The flame-thrower wasn’t in the village. I searched for her myself.”

No doubt.
Not that it would have done Riona any good if he had found her. “At this point, I would settle for the one. Why did you not bring her to me?”

“I could have, yes. But then we would be finished here. I’m not ready to be finished.”

Her gaze drifted up and down his body. It was as Riona thought. Torture excited Eron. His thickening shaft proved that. How unfortunate that his erection had absolutely nothing to do with her and everything to do with his thoughts. There went her plan for punishment. He’d only get off on the beating. Riona took a step toward Eron. He held his ground. “What do you value?” she asked, placing both hands on his chest.

Eyes flickering, he said, “Nothing.”

Riona pushed ever so slightly and sent Eron flying twenty feet through the air. His back slammed into a tree. The trunk splintered as if it had been struck by lightning. Eron managed to land on his feet, though he appeared dazed.

“Wrong answer.”

The temporary camp Calliope had guided them to proved to be nothing more than a tree-filled plane measuring about a half-acre and flanked by sloping green hills on all four sides. They wouldn’t be able to stay here long before being detected, especially if the nights grew too cold and they had to build fires. Yet, Krystoff could see why she’d chosen the spot. Her signature magick shimmered in the air and whistled through the trees. Twinkling motes sprang from the earth every time she took a step. This lush piece of land had chosen its caretaker, and that was Calliope. Whether she knew it or not, Calliope was now the proprietor of her very own enchanted forest.

Krystoff stood away from the group, watching as she covered her mother with the blue blanket he’d provided. Calliope carefully tucked it against Ambra’s body, enclosing her in a warm cocoon of cashmere and cotton. Krystoff had conjured so many blue blankets since last night, the camp looked like a reflection of the clear sky. Blue had become his favorite color the moment he’d locked eyes with Calliope. One day, he’d build a home and paint every room the exact shade of her irises. Assuming he could ever stay in one place long enough to put down roots.

Ambra Brennan sat with her back against a large tree, staring at something, or
someone
, no one else could see. Her red hair had been braided and tied back with a white ribbon, the frayed ends dancing in the wind like a pair of white flags signaling defeat. This witch was more than a little haunted, but Krystoff noticed the unparalleled knowledge swimming in the depths of her striking green eyes. If she could ever get past the demon that had forced her to retreat, he had no doubt she’d be a force to be reckoned with. Perhaps even strong enough to sit on the witches’ council he’d heard about, possibly in the head chair.