Ascension (26 page)

Taig turned towards her.

Gregori smiled calmly.

She didn’t see the spell that hit her. He lifted his hand and darkness descended on her. The shadows in the room came to life and the air turned to ice. She shivered and her magic withdrew, fearful of the things she could see, twisted shapes that crawled towards her. Spirits. He had sent her to that dark place that Taig had brought her through.

Lealandra backed away, casting glances around her at the encroaching shadows. Her breaths shortened. She pressed a hand against her tight chest and felt the pounding of her heart.

The black fog lifted enough for her to see Gregori smiling at her, his eyes full of darkness as he held the needle up. Her magic rose again at the sight of the blood he had taken from her and she took a step forwards, intent on reclaiming it. Another spell collided with her, wrapping her in a cocoon and then seeping into her. White-hot pain blinded her, bone-deep and threatening to steal her consciousness.

She doubled up, clutching her chest and stomach, and tried to expunge the spell, managing to force it away from her bones. It fought back, tearing at her flesh until she felt as though it was ripping her apart from the inside out.

Strong arms wrapped around her and the world brightened. A gust of wind hit her and then sound splintered through her mind. Silence followed with a cool rush of air over her body. Her magic pushed the remaining shreds of the spell from her body and the darkness left her. She leaned into Taig’s chest and wrapped her arms around him as he cradled her, one arm under her legs and the other behind her back. She frowned and opened her eyes when she felt his wings and the strong beat of wind against her hands.

The world passed by below them, a myriad of twinkling lights in the silence.

She was flying again, floating in Taig’s arms, and this time it didn’t frighten her at all.

Lealandra idly watched the cars on the dark streets. It all looked so beautiful from up here in the night. Was this what the moon saw when it looked down upon them? How could a world so full of darkness look so beautiful from a distance?

“Hold on, Lea,” Taig whispered and held her tighter. There was so much hurt in his voice. No, not hurt. Fear. He was afraid for her. “We’ll be home soon.”

Home.

She still liked the way he said that. As though his place was theirs.

She could see Central Park in the distance. Taig’s wings beat heavily in the air, strong and taking away any fear of falling she had. He wouldn’t drop her. He would keep her safe just as he had promised. She believed in him.

But could he protect her from Gregori?

He had her blood now.

Her only chance of defeating him was to make it through her ascension.

She had to survive.

She had to stop him.

T
aig sat in silence on the end of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers forming steeples in front of his face. His eyes didn’t move, fixed on Lealandra where she lay sleeping. Warm sunlight flooded into the room, casting a pale glow over her skin and marking that a day had passed since he had brought her home. He had tended her wounds, had done everything he could for her, and had waited ever since. It had been difficult, wore him down worse than any form of torture, but he endured it, knowing that she was regaining her strength little by little. His rage had quietened as she had improved and it was back under control now. She looked brighter at last. The greyness was gone from her skin. The sunlight made her look peaceful. Dead. Only the steady rise and fall of her chest beneath the deep red covers reassured him that she was alive.

Time crept on, the shadows slowly moving around, marking the passing hours across the black wall behind her.

Taig waited a few minutes more, willing Lealandra to stir and show signs of regaining consciousness. When she didn’t, he stood and walked over to her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, breathed in her sweet scent, and then grabbed a fresh black t-shirt and left the room.

The apartment was spotless now. He put on the t-shirt and walked across the room. The only sign of his fight with the demons was the dent in the far wall next to the long black side cupboard and a couple of holes in the pillar near the kitchen. He had cleared everything else away, including the remains of the demons. It had been the only way of distracting himself while he waited for Lealandra to come around. Now he had nothing to do to keep himself occupied. He paced across the room and came to a halt next to the picture of his parents. Without thinking, he reached out and picked it up.

Their happy faces smiled up at him. He stroked a finger over his mother’s stomach. She had been so happy. His gaze shifted to his father. There was no lie in the demon’s expression. He had been as happy as his mother. They had both wanted him. So why had they left him?

His demon surfaced along with his anger but again it didn’t push for freedom. It lingered below his skin, one with him, called out by his need and his despair. He thought about what Lealandra had said to him. He was a man. Both his demon side and his human side made him who he was—a man who Lealandra loved, a man who was strong enough to protect her.

His fight against the demons and the coven had made him realise that without his demon blood, he wouldn’t be able to protect Lealandra. It had been a difficult thing to accept and was only made harder by the fact that on some level he was glad now that he had demon blood. It was that which gave him the power to look after her, not only to protect her but to help her control her magic. When the ascension came, she would need his demonic power more than ever. It would be the key to her survival. If he had been born wholly human, he would have been useless to her, impotent in his desire to take care of her.

The smiling faces of his father and mother radiated affection up at him. The years he had spent with them had been full of tenderness and acceptance. They had both loved him and he was sure that they had loved each other too.

Were they really dead? Did he really want to go with Lealandra to find out what had happened to them? He had never wanted to venture into the underworld in search of them before but now he was considering it.

Meeting Lealandra’s parents had made him think about how his would have reacted to her. His mother would have liked her. His gaze shifted to his father. Perhaps he would have been able to accept that his son loved a witch. After all, he had broken with the demon world to live with his mother and marry her, and have him. He had dared to love a human.

That was no less sinful than loving a witch.

Taig placed the picture down on the long black side cabinet and opened the cupboard below it. He chose a gleaming black-handled hunting knife and looked around the apartment. Where to start? He had to protect what was his, had to keep Lealandra safe. Gregori had her blood now but something told him that it wouldn’t end there. Lealandra wouldn’t let it and while she was alive and had a chance of surviving her ascension, Gregori would be after her. He would want to get rid of her.

Taig went to the door and ran his fingers over the marks on the wooden frame. The protection they offered was strong but not enough to make him comfortable. He took the knife and began carving symbols into the spaces on the wood, marking out the most powerful protection at his disposal—the protection his father had used on their home and had taught him as a child.

Nothing would be able to get within fifty metres of his apartment without him knowing about it, and, if they dared to attempt to enter by force, the enchantment would send them to the shadow world and trap them there with the evil things that it spawned. It wasn’t a temporary or easy to break thing like Gregori’s pathetic spell. It was permanent. The shadows would eat them before they could even think about trying to escape.

Over an hour had passed by the time Taig had finished scoring the protection marks on the door and window frames.

He ended up in the kitchen, leaning against the black glossy cupboards beside the red refrigerator. He toyed with his knife and tried to think of something to do now to keep his mind occupied. Humans moved in and out of the perimeter of the incantation. Nothing for him to be concerned about. He shifted focus to the bedroom when something moved. Lealandra. His heart said to go to her but she appeared in the doorway, holding a white robe closed around her, before he could move. The tiredness in her eyes spoke volumes. She was still weak. Gregori had done a real number on her but Taig knew it wasn’t only that which had sapped her strength. The ascension was close. She would be constantly fighting her magic now in an attempt to control it.

“Morning.” She rubbed her eyes and yawned. “What time is it?”

Taig smiled and put his knife down on the black granite counter top. Her gaze moved to it and she frowned briefly before looking at the front door and the windows. The rise in the power of protection over the apartment would be significant enough for her to sense.

“You’ve been busy. We in trouble?” she murmured sleepily and padded barefoot across the living room to him. He rounded the kitchen island and helped her sit on one of the black stools. She leaned one elbow on the black granite counter and yawned again.

“You’ve been sleeping a while,” he said and she looked at him. When she frowned, he took it as an order to expand on what he had said. “Over a day.”

Her eyebrows rose and then fell again when she leaned her head heavily on her upturned palm.

“A day.” She sighed. “Gregori has my blood.”

“I know.” Taig sat on the stool next to her, took hold of her hand and held it. It was warm in his, the feel of it comforting him as much as seeing her awake. “He can’t get to you here. Not now.”

She nodded. “I can feel it, you know, the barrier you’ve made. I couldn’t before. I don’t think it’s your upgrade. I think it’s close.”

“The ascension?”

She nodded again and wrapped her arms around herself. “Real close.”

Taig sighed, placed his arm around her shoulders and drew her towards him until she shifted and leaned her head against his chest. He held her in silence, memorising the way it felt to have her in his arms and to have her relying on his strength again to comfort her. His thumb started a soft motion against her arm through the robe and he stroked it while he thought about what they were going to do. If Gregori was after her, he would want her gone before the ascension hit. He wouldn’t wait until afterwards, not even to see if she died during the process. Gregori wouldn’t risk her becoming stronger than he was.

Lealandra was strong and just as stubborn as Taig. She wouldn’t give in to the ascension and would fight to master her magic. It wouldn’t defeat her. Taig wouldn’t let it. If Lealandra needed all of his power, all of his blood, then he would give it to her. He would give her everything to ensure that she survived.

He placed his fingers under her chin and lifted her head. She looked up at him with round fearful eyes, their grey depths as stormy as the ocean. Taig lowered his mouth to hers and claimed her lips in a gentle kiss, one that he hoped told her everything that he still couldn’t voice. He loved her and he wasn’t going to allow anything to happen to her.

Lealandra was still a moment as his lips moved over hers and then she uncurled, her hands coming to rest on his waist and her mouth opening. She returned the kiss, as softly and slowly as he was, her lips barely meeting his. He frowned when her tongue traced his lower lip and then brushed over his teeth and groaned when he touched it with his. She slanted her head and thrust her tongue into his mouth. One hand slid around the back of his neck and pulled him closer as her kiss turned fierce and hungry.

Their tongues duelled for dominance, drawing a quiet moan from her, and his brow furrowed. The hunger of her kiss was electrifying, shattering his restraint. It became a battle, a violent clashing of lips and tongues, full of desperation and need. Taig’s breathing turned as choppy as the kiss and he dug his fingers into Lealandra’s shoulders, clinging to her, holding her so she couldn’t break away from him. His whole body tightened at the delicious feel of her fingers running down his chest. He moaned to encourage her and then frowned when she raked nails down over his pectorals. He loosed a muffled ‘ouch’ into her mouth when she clawed him again. Literally.

His tongue touched her teeth. Sharp. The taste of magic flooded his mouth, coppery in its scent, and then it felt as though it was crawling down his throat, infecting his body and sapping his strength.

Taig shoved Lealandra off him. She smiled, wicked and seductive. Dilated pupils darkened her bright red eyes.

He threw a cursory glance down at his chest. She had torn his black t-shirt to shreds. He went to touch it but Lealandra clicked her fingers and it disappeared. She was still smiling when he looked at her. Hunger flitted across her eyes as she stared at his body and she reached over and stroked her fingers lightly down his chest, following the marks she had made, and then took her hand away and licked each bloodied finger clean. She sucked them in turn, her eyes fixed on his, her moans making him breathless. He clawed back a little control over his libido and frowned at her.

“We have to get you to your parents.” Those words didn’t go down well.

She pouted at him and raised her hands. Red magic swirled around her fingers like ribbons in a breeze, her skin drained of colour and her eyes brightened, until the red began to bleed into the white.

“We really have to get you to your parents,” Taig said, afraid that even his blood wouldn’t be able to stop whatever was happening to her. Her magic was strong, flooding the room with a heavy feeling that pressed down on him, as though gravity had suddenly doubled.

“I refuse,” she said in a voice he didn’t recognise as hers and tilted her head to one side, her smile coy and seductive, and her eyes narrowing on him. He frowned when she reached out and ran her palms over his chest, trailing her fingers over his nipples and teasing them. His nostrils flared and his jaw tensed as he fought for control. Her magic seeped into him, stealing his senses and making his head feel light. Lustful thoughts filled it, urges so dark that they frightened him. His blood called for violence, for him to slake his thirst for Lealandra and have her, take her in ways he had only dreamed of. As a demon. “Everything I need is right here.”