The Soother (24 page)

Calliope cleared her throat — more to keep from gagging than anything else.

“Oh,” Riona said, slowly pulling her gaze from Eron’s crotch. “You’re still here? Well, of course you are. Where else would you be?”

Calliope snorted. “You should totally take your show on the road. Seriously, take it elsewhere.” She clapped her hands hoping to irritate Riona to the point she’d leave her alone for a while. Calliope figured she’d stored just enough magick away to combat some of the gloom around her. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have the strength to fight. But she couldn’t use her magick with the dysfunctional duo in attendance.

“You are a funny little witch. Let’s see how you like being left alone with the rats. Let’s go, Eron. Calliope has some thinking to do. Wait,” she said, one finger in the air. Riona padded toward the cell and wrapped her fingers around the bars. “I’ll leave you with this parting thought, Ms. Brennan. When it comes down to it, will you save your coven or will you save my son?”

Calliope stood, made her way to the door of the cell. She grabbed the bars, her hands just on the other side of Riona’s. “Don’t be surprised when I save them both.”

Riona stiffened, her back so straight it was like a steel rod had replaced her spine. She smiled slowly. “Oh, you are an interesting little thing. You hear that, Eron? She thinks she can save everyone from me.”

Eron laughed, but didn’t come forward. He lifted a brow at Calliope, a twisted and permanent smirk painted on his face.

“You overestimate yourself, but more importantly,” Riona hissed. “You underestimate my power.”

Calliope channeled Bevva. Her fiery sister wouldn’t let Riona’s comment pass without a biting remark of her own. “Isn’t that what this is all about?” Calliope asked. “You being jealous of Krystoff’s power?”

Riona reached in the cell, grabbed a fistful of Calliope’s hair and pulled until Calliope’s face was smashed against the bars. “I am not jealous.” Her cheeks grew flush with seething anger.

The cold bars bit into Calliope’s skin, pushing against her cheekbone so hard she heard a crack. No amount of pain would stop her now. She was on a roll. “I disagree,” Calliope said, her voice as calm as a pond on a warm spring day. “Ask Eron. He thinks you’re jealous, too. Don’t you, Eron?” she taunted. “Who can blame you, really? I mean everyone loves Krystoff. There’s just something about him. Something you’ll never have even if you possessed all the power in the worlds.”

Riona screamed and shoved Calliope away with a white-hot blast of magick. Calliope hit the stone wall and fell to the ground. Didn’t matter. Laughter seized her. She threw back her head and cackled just as madly as Riona had. All for effect, but Riona wouldn’t know that. Every word she’d said was true. Krystoff was everything Riona would never be. As she watched Riona retrieve the cell key from her pocket, Calliope hoped she lived long enough to tell him.

• • •

Riona clucked her tongue. The ornate skeleton key, which was attached to a fine gold cord, dangled from her fingers as she scrambled to get her emotions under control. It wouldn’t behoove her to let the smart-mouthed witch get the upper hand. That could never happen. Not only was Riona the queen, she knew in her shadowed heart she was the superior being. In all ways. From her beauty to her power, she had the witch trumped ten-fold. Even a blind man could see that.

She couldn’t quite figure out what Krystoff saw in Calliope. Cute, maybe. On a good day. Definitely not beautiful. And absolutely no sense of style. Riona laughed to herself. Krystoff might feel differently once he got another look at his skinny, dirty girlfriend. Calliope Brennan really was a mess. Upon arrival, Riona had ordered Eron to remove Calliope’s boots. Then he’d thrown her in the cell. Riona took in the bare feet and ripped jeans. The dried blood staining Calliope’s right knee held a hint of Krystoff’s scent. The witch wasn’t hurt, but she had all the appearances of being roughened up.
Perfect
. Everything was going according to plan.

Riona shook her head and took a deep breath, inhaling the cool shadows that resided in the lower levels of her castle. The shadows slid down her throat and swam in her bloodstream, cooling the shade of her temper from fiery red to a muted orange. Cocking her head, she wondered why she’d ever unsealed Calliope’s lips. Lips that spewed such venomous lies.
Jealousy
.

And what was so damn funny? Calliope’s laughing sounded more like a wheezing hyena. The sound annoyed Riona to the point she envisioned ripping the witch’s tongue out. Perhaps she would. Surely, that would upset Krystoff. And
that
was the real point of all this. Not jealousy. Respect. Her son did not respect her. Never had. He would now, though. Yes he would.

“Time for you to shut up,” Riona said to Calliope. The witch was laughing so hard, tears streaked down her cheeks, leaving clean tracks on her dirt-smudged face. For security reasons, she’d fortified the cell doors against all magick. The only way to gain entrance was with the key, which she slid into the lock easily. Riona turned her wrist until she heard the mechanism
snick
. Her smile widened. She slowly wrapped the cord around the key, tucked it back into her pocket, and then pulled the cell door open. The metal door groaned and creaked. Music to her ears. The dungeon wasn’t very old at all. She’d gone into painstaking detail making it appear and function in the archaic way of her ancestors. No one knew torture like those from the days of old. Riona would do them proud, emulating their techniques, revising and expanding on them until her tactics excelled.

Stepping through the door, Riona threw both hands forward. Magick pulsed from her palms, snaking through the air, hissing and crackling, until it reached Calliope who stopped laughing and tried to dodge the hit by back-crawling to the corner. With the help of her magick, Riona lifted Calliope off the ground. She held her there, suspended in air like a marionette. Riona drew circles in the air with her pointer fingers. Calliope’s body began to spin like a hamster on a wheel. Turning, turning, faster and faster until she was but a blur in the dark.

Eron laughed and came to stand next to her. “Do let me play with our toy, my queen.”

Riona glanced at Eron. A bead of drool collected in the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. “In due time. In due time,” Riona said.

Eron adjusted his pants. “I’m ready now.”

An odd feeling washed over Riona. She swallowed before answering. “Not yet,” she gritted out through tight lips. Riona sucked in a shaky breath, pulled her arms back and closed her hands, instantly cutting off her magick. Calliope plummeted to the ground, landing with a bone-jarring thud. Riona licked her lips, tasted salt. That couldn’t be. She didn’t sweat. Sweat meant exertion and the power of magick should come easily to her. Damn Krystoff. She needed his power. Every last drop of it.

“Are you all right?” Eron asked, his eyes narrowed.

“Just … dandy, thanks,” Calliope answered with a cough.

Eron stomped toward her. “I wasn’t speaking to you.” Riona reached out to stop him, noticed her fingers were trembling. She fisted her hands at her side.

Calliope shoved off the ground to her knees, her breath ragged, sweat dripping from her head to the floor. “My bad. And here I thought … you were … the caring … type.”

“Enough!” Riona demanded, collecting herself. “I am perfectly fine and I don’t appreciate you thinking otherwise.”

“Is that so?” Eron questioned, turning to face Riona. He leaned over her, forcing her to crane her neck.

Nervy fool.
“It is so. You forget yourself.” Riona shoved Eron away. He stepped back and for the first time she wondered whose effort had caused the motion. She needed to get back to her room. It had been a long trip. Maybe that’s why she felt so blasted weak all of a sudden.

Eron tilted his head. “My apologies. I only meant — ”

“Silence! I care not what you meant. Question me again and my plans for you will change.”

Eron nodded tightly. “I understand. Plans change.”

Riona cocked her head. “They certainly do. Now, take the witch to the circle and keep her there. I’ll join you in a bit.” She stepped forward, coming toe-to-toe with the hulking man she had never thought to fear. After this mess with Krystoff was concluded, Eron would no longer be necessary. “And, Eron, I warn you … if she is not in the same state she is now, you will perish right beside her.” Yes, time to find a royal replacement.

A candidate quickly came to mind. Perhaps Krystoff’s old friend Scout would make an acceptable king. Strong and powerful. A bit odd looking, but sexy nonetheless. In a freakish sort of way. She basically had Scout eating out of her palms as it were, what with her being in possession of his sister’s soul and all. A little incentive went a long way. The more Riona thought about it, the more she grew to like the idea. The fact that Krystoff would despise them both only added to the excitement coursing through her veins.

Riona clapped her hands. “Oh, Ms. Brennan, aren’t you so very glad we met? I know I am.” Riona didn’t wait for a response. She glided up the stairs with the details of her new plan spinning through her shadowed mind.

Krystoff fisted his staff and shoved away from the table. His chair scraped across the floor, sending a screeching echo through Hannah’s Place. “Pay the bill, Scout. We’re leaving.” Needing to distance himself for a few minutes, he ignored Scout’s questioning stare.

Krystoff inclined his head to Jessie on his way out. “Thank you for breakfast. Sorry for the disruption.”

Jessie nodded, and said nothing as she backed farther into her corner. He’d apologized. Nothing else he could do but leave.

Outside, Krystoff paced while waiting for Scout to join him. A cool drizzle fell, coating the ground in refreshing moisture. A sheet of grey clouds blocked the sun that had been irritating his skin, dousing the day with a heavy hand of shadows and murk. No doubt a reflection of his current mood.

A soft
hoo
sounded. Krystoff lifted his gaze and spotted the bird watching him from a crop of trees. Had he been following them through each realm? Even more evidence that this winged creature was more than just an owl. “Where have you been?” he muttered. He should have been glad to see a familiar face, even a feathered one. But the owl, like everything else, only reminded him of Calliope. The owl stared back at him, unblinking, his golden eyes the only spot of color in the grey world.

Scout stepped through the door, drawing Krystoff’s attention away. When he looked again, the owl was gone. He didn’t need the guidance anyway. Krystoff knew exactly where he was going.

“Don’t worry, man. Breakfast was on me.” Scout squinted as the rain came down harder. “Where are you going, anyway?” he asked.

Krystoff tilted his face toward the sky, letting the rain clear his head. He breathed in the cool air. His shadows stirred beneath his skin. “Not me. We.”

“Maybe,” Scout said. “Where?”

Raindrops collected on Krystoff’s lashes. He blinked them away, and then gave a pointed look to Scout. “Mistropa.”

Scout rocked back on his heels, nodded like he was impressed. “Really? I thought you were avoiding that place.”

“Not anymore,” Krystoff answered. “I’m done with this.” He swiped a hand through the air. “You, her, all of it.”

“And by
her
, you mean the witch?”

Adrenaline surged. Krystoff leaped, pushed Scout so hard the nomas fell to the ground and landed on his ass with a splash.

Scout took his time standing, and then bowed like an actor after an encore. “Well played, my friend.” He wiped mud splatter off his pants, then gave up with a shrug when it only smeared.

“We are not friends.”
Why do I have to keep reminding Scout of that?
“And you know damn well I wasn’t talking about Calliope. She is mine and will always be mine. Is that understood?” His voice was low, a rumbled growl enforcing every word.

Was she his? In his mind, yes. Had been since the moment he’d looked into her angelic blue eyes. Whether or not she felt the same was another question. One he planned on asking.

“Got it. Yours. Clear. Crystal clear and all that shit. I wasn’t gunning for her anyway. If I had been … ” Scout let his thoughts trail off, sucked on his teeth.

“You weren’t and you won’t. Ever. Simple as that.” Krystoff swept a hand down his face, scrubbing away the exhaustion. “We’re going to check on Calliope and then we’re going to Mistropa. You and I will get Hannah’s soul back. And then you will immediately return mine.” Knowing what it was like to live without a soul — existing and never feeling entirely whole — Krystoff didn’t wish it on anyone.

“You think it’s that easy?”

“I don’t think anything about Riona is easy. I’ll do it anyway. When this is finished, we’re done.” Krystoff lifted his chin, settling the matter. Or was it settled? He certainly didn’t feel as if anything was resolved.

Scout nodded. “If you can do this, I’ll owe you.”

Barking out a laugh, he jabbed a finger at Scout. “You already owe me,” Krystoff informed him with a snarl. “Look where that got us.” He spotted Jessie peeking out the window, chewing on her thumbnail.

“Sorry you see it that way,” Scout said.

“No, you’re not.” Jessie stepped away and the curtain settled back into place.

“Jessie know Hannah is your sister?”

Scout threw a glance over his shoulder, then turned back, his icy eyes dimmed by the darkening weather. “I’m sure she figured out we’re related. Probably what rattled her.” Scout closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he stared past Krystoff, seemingly deep in thought. “Hannah looks like me,” he finally said. “But that’s where the similarities end.”

“Lucky her,” Krystoff said, though he wasn’t sure if he actually meant it. Part of him refused to let go of everything he and Scout had been through over the years. Before Scout had turned his back on him in the stone circle of Mistropa, Krystoff would have done anything for him. He’d considered Scout’s betrayal unpardonable. But if Scout was telling the truth about his sister …