Where Dark Collides: Part 1 (Shades of Dark) (7 page)

“That was the window—” Kial’s voice cut off on a sharp hiss.

No comment about my bared shoulders and lacy bra straps. Only the sound of Kial hurrying toward me, the charge of urgency that thickened the air. One of the quirks about my household; when you saw a half-naked girl kneeling on the living room floor, you didn’t immediately assume a game of strip poker was in session. Your immediate assumption was danger, each and every time.

I didn’t look up, but I felt Kial reach my side. My fingers went to the crease at the apex of Beth’s jaw, feeling for a pulse. Weak, barely there, I wasn’t even sure if it was Beth’s pulse or my fear trembling to my fingertips. My T-shirt was already soaked bright red and Beth was too still, not a single flutter beneath her eyelids.

Kial leaned over me and took Beth’s arm, bending it back up on itself at the elbow.

Of course, make the flow of blood work against gravity. Usually I was good in a crisis, in life and death situations, but this was Beth, the closest person to family I had left. Losing her wasn’t your standard crisis, it was the end of my world, my personal apocalypse.

If the rate of life leaving her body had decreased, I couldn’t tell. The makeshift bandage was soaked, dripping excess blood onto my folded thighs.

“No…” I pushed to my feet, tears choking my thoughts. “This isn’t— How is it—?” I swallowed hard, pressing a fist to my mouth as my eyes found Kial. “Is it the poison? Can it do this? Gash her open again from the inside out?”

He shook his head, his gaze rooted on Beth, his face grim.

“No?” I demanded. “Or no, you don’t know?”

He gave a small, dry cough. “It’s not the poison, Raine.”

His eyes came to me, ice blue shaded with grief.

“Don’t…” The parts of me that had fled in panic rushed back. Focus. Gut instinct. Capability. Blind stubbornness. “Don’t you dare give up on Beth.”

I fled across the room without sparing Kial and his grieving eyes another glance, sliding into the hallway, twisting my ankle as I turned into the staircase and leapt the first two steps at the same time.

Not the poison spreading, attacking from within. Then what…?

At the top of the stairs, I sprinted down the passage, pushing through the last few stabs of pain shooting from my ankle up into my calf. By the time I’d flung open my bedroom door, the pain was a distant memory, faded by anxiety and healed by my Angeon blood.

The solid iron chest bolted to the floor of my wardrobe, three-by-two feet and about knee-high, took up most of the ground space and I had to swipe away the pairs of shoes piled on top. My grandmother would turn in her grave if she knew her chest currently served as my shoe case. Then again, maybe not. Granny Allora had had a wacky sense of humour.

My heart pounded as I worked the combination. All I needed was for Beth to hold on a little longer. All I needed was for her to hold on by a thread.

I’d regained full functionality of my head, but my fingers trembled with a mind of their own. Too many tries later, the lock snapped open. I heaved the lid up (super strength was not a special on the Angeon menu) and dug inside with both hands. My fingers closed on the vial and I tumbled out the wardrobe and onto my feet, racing back down to the living room.

Kial was sitting on the sofa. He’d gathered Beth into his arms, cradling her against his chest.

“Did she wake?”

His eyes lifted to me. “We’re losing…” the slightest hitch, nearly indiscernible. “…her.”

Losing her.
Which meant she wasn’t lost yet. Hope flashed inside me.

I sunk down beside them. “Hold out her arm.”

“Raine, what—”

“Just do it,” I snapped as I wedged my nail beneath the snug cap of the vial.

Kial gently unfolded Beth’s arm, but he was looking at the silver vial in my hand. “What is that?”

“Stygor blood.” I flicked the cap open, ignoring Kial’s probing questions as I unwrapped the sodden bandage and flipped Beth’s arm over.

What in hades is Stygor blood?

Where did you get it?

Raine, what are you doing?

I tipped the vial over the soft inner flesh of Beth’s lower arm, letting my actions answer at least one of his questions.

Once I’d emptied every last drop of precious Stygor blood from the vial, I rocked back onto my butt, suddenly drained.

This was it, my last trick.

All I could do now was wait.

If the Stygor blood didn’t work… I bit the inside of my cheek. I couldn’t, I wouldn’t think that way. I’d promised Beth. This Demor would not get her. I would not allow it.

And then, like a metal spike twisting inside my gut with sharp, painful awareness, I knew.

“It came back, didn’t it?” I looked at Kial. “The Demor panther attacked Beth right here, in my living room, while I was at the door—”
making dinner plans
“—while you were in the kitchen—”
arguing with a man in a van
.

“I think so,” he said quietly.

“But what about the shields?” Protection runes weaved around my property. They wouldn’t keep out a physical form, like an actual Demor or their fire, but the ancient runes blocked transient matter and Demors couldn’t fade across them.

“In panther form, Demors are ten times more powerful,” he reminded me in a weary voice. “Maybe you need stronger runes. Different runes. I don’t know, Raine, I don’t know everything.”

A groan escaped Beth’s lips, expelling all thought of Demors and runes. I lurched forward, staring hard into her face. “Beth, can you hear me?”

Kial shifted so that she was cradled deeper to his left, so that he could tip her chin to him. “Beth?”

Another groan, and then her eyelids fluttered. Just a flutter, not enough to open. I pressed two fingers beneath her jaw again, and this time the steady, insistent throb of her pulse was undeniable.

“She’s coming around,” I breathed out. “She’s going to be okay.”

I settled back on my haunches to examine her arm. There was so much congealed blood, I couldn’t see skin.

Kial’s gaze tracked mine. If his scowl was any indication, he was somewhat less convinced of Beth’s recovery.

Leaving him to his doubts, I fetched a bowl of warm water and a towel from the kitchen. When I returned, Kial was on his feet, making Beth comfortable with her head propped against the padded sofa arm.

“You’re right, her breathing is strong,” he said to me. “The longer she sleeps, the better. Her body’s healing.”

I gave him a terse smile, then set about cleaning Beth’s arm, starting with the dried blood furthest up. Slowly, carefully, I worked my way down to her wrist with circular motions, revealing flawless, unmarred skin all the way. The thin scratch scars from this morning? Gone.

“What have you done?” Kial’s deathly flat tone chilled my spine.

I glanced over my shoulder to find him towering over me from behind, his expression black, his gaze narrowed on Beth’s wrist.

“I saved her,” I said defensively and turned my attention to the floor, scrubbing furiously. I could feel Kial’s eyes on me, judging me, and I didn’t care. I’d have done far worse to save Beth and I liked to think so would Kial, that there was no line drawn when any of our lives were at stake.

When my arm began to ache, I stopped scrubbing. The dark stain on the hardwood floor wasn’t going anywhere, not with plain water. I threw the towel into the bowl and sat back, finally ready to face Kial and his accusing stare.

He’d waited patiently while I’d scrubbed my soul along with the floor, but that wasn’t all he’d been doing.

“What is this, Raine?” He opened his fist to reveal the tiny silver vial he must have found wherever I’d carelessly discarded it. “What is Stygor blood?”

A vein ticked at his temple. His jaw clenched so hard, I could practically hear his back teeth cracking down. He flung the vial across the room, his eyes pinning me. I’d never seen him this furious before.

“Beth lost too much blood. Her body wasn’t healing. She was dying.” I straightened, glaring at him, challenging him to contradict me. “Beth was
dying.
”

“Where would you get blood more powerful than Angeon?” His voice was gravel, scraping my nerves like asphalt burn. “What have you done?”

Had he heard a word I’d said? “I saved Beth’s life.”

“At what cost?”

My mouth dropped open. “Would you prefer I’d done nothing, left her to die? Is that what you want? Beth dead?”

The look he gave me could have frozen the bowels of Hades.

I backed down, feeling instantly bad. We were both shaken up, and I’d just thrown another unexpected horror into his day.

“A Stygor is a species of bat,” I told him. “And from the way you’re going off at me, I’d say you’ve got a pretty good idea of where it comes from.”

“You crossed into the underworld.” He rubbed his jaw, then pushed that hand through his hair. “Charon? Did he ferry you there and back across the River Acheron? What deal did you make, Raine?”

“Charon didn’t ferry me anywhere.” I hurled myself into the armchair and pulled my legs up, hugging my knees. I was raw, inside and out. We’d almost lost Beth. Demors were shape-shifting and my best friend seemed to be enemy number one. A panther had faded across my shield, fracturing the illusion that my home was a safe haven. “I don’t need your self-righteous act, Kial. I broke the rules and I don’t give a damn.”

“Self-righteous act?” He came to stand right in front of me, bringing that icy stare with him. “Rules? You think that’s what this is about? You don’t cross over without repercussions, Raine. What was the deal?”

“No one crossed the River Acheron,” I said irritably. He wasn’t angry I’d used contraband on Beth. That was a plus. But his caveman attitude was a whopping minus. If I ever did feel the urge to cross the Acheron, I certainly wouldn’t be asking Kial, or anyone, for permission. “Stygors make their habitat in the Pertyx caves.”

Kial growled at the mention of the opening to the river that tumbled through a series of underground rapids and waterfalls into the subterranean rivers of the underworld.

“I didn’t enter the caves.” I sighed noisily. “My grandmother did.”

“Allora?”

“You knew her?”

“Who hasn’t heard of her?” The tension at his jaw loosened. The crease between his brows smoothed. That lasted about a second, and then his face darkened to thunder. “You stole Allora’s chest.”

“I reclaimed what belonged to my family,” I said hotly. “The Third Council stole it first.”

“They confiscated it, and with good reason. That chest is filled with underground contraband.”

“Yeah, well, they were too dip-shit scared to take it from Granny Allora while she was still alive.”

“This is the Third Council we’re talking about, Raine. You don’t
steal
from them!”

“What was I supposed to do? When my parents were…” I swallowed, blinking hard. “All that remained of my mom and dad were body parts,” I said hoarsely. “They weren’t coming back from that, Kial, not without help.”

Kial shook his head. The thunder on his face sunk into his cheeks, adding a decade to his twenty-something years. “You thought Allora had something in there that could bring them back from the dead.”

“No, of course not… I don’t know.” I hugged my knees tighter. “I wasn’t thinking. What does it matter?”

It hadn’t mattered then, and it didn’t matter now. By the time I’d retrieved the chest, my parents were in body bags. By the time I’d found Allora’s enchantment to preserve their flesh and bind their souls to their bodies, my parents were six feet under. I’d never stood a chance, but at least I’d tried.

Kial looked at me, the silence dragging between us like a thief stealing a sackcloth of trust, pieces of our friendship, chunks of familiarity, leaving behind two people who didn’t know each other nearly as well as they had a minute ago.

I honestly thought he’d understand. Kial clearly never thought I was a person capable of doing the things I’d done.

“You’ve been hiding that chest for three years.” His voice was a low mutter beneath his breath, but I heard. “You silly fool. How am I supposed to help you, how do I protect you, when you play games with fate?”

When had he named himself my protector?

“A shape shifting Demor mauled Beth, twice,” I ground out, “and you’re bursting a vein over some little family heirloom I reclaimed! If you want to help, Kial, summon me a couple of Guardians. I’d love to hear them explain today.”

“You don’t summon
the Guardians,” he said bluntly, turning away from me to pace.

As if I didn’t know. The Guardians were a distant entity, so far removed from life on earth, I rarely spared them much thought. I certainly didn’t expect help—or enlightenment—from that quarter.

My gaze fell on Beth, on the steady rise and fall of her chest. Where there should have been comfort, relief, anger built inside me instead. Every breath Beth drew piled on another layer, thickening the foundation, heating behind my eyes. My caustic retort had been nothing more than a flippant throwback, but now the idea fuelled me.

“You’ve met one of the Graces, haven’t you?” I said to Kial. “Which one was it? How did you summon her?”

“The Graces are not Guardians.”

He hadn’t denied it.

“They are the eyes, ears and hands of the Guardians. The Furies and Fates, Muses and Graces, Winds and Rivers, all obey the Guardians.” I unscrambled my legs and stood, anger pushing through frustration into a blazing fury. “Who was it, Kial? Aglaia, the
Grace of Brilliance
? No, it would have been Thalia, right? The pretty one.”

Kial’s pacing had taken him around the sofa Beth lay on, and now he stopped there to raise an incredulous brow on me. “Zeus’s daughters are all beautiful.”

“But none more so than Thalia, the
Grace of Bloom
. Call her down, Kial. I have a message for her to carry back to her masters.”

When he did nothing but look at me as if I’d gone mad, I threw my head back and shouted up at the ceiling, “Thalia! Get down here.”

I wasn’t crazy. I didn’t expect her to pop in for a chat. But it felt good to scream at the top of lungs, to punch my impotent fury at someone, something, even if it was only the ceiling.