Reaper's Dark Kiss (16 page)

“I don’t mind,” Harli said and stopped talking.

That tripped up Sky. Even after he came into the Shadow World, it took Harli a while to learn English. He’d spent decades speaking Romanian. He was answering what she’d asked.

“How’d it happen?” Sky asked, a note of genuine curiosity in her voice.

“Marek,” Harli said, “he’s a Furie. He can make revenants.”

If Julian stopped Harli now, it would just draw attention to what he didn’t want Sky to know.
Not yet. Please, gods, not yet.

Chapter Twenty-Two

It was possible, Julian told himself, that Sky thought Harli was calling Marek bad-tempered. Maybe she’d missed it. Maybe.

“If Marek bites a mortal, they turn into a Shade?” Sky asked.

“Yeah. Like me. It’s not exactly biting,” Harli said. “I died. Then I woke up and swore an oath to the Creed.”

“What was it like?”

Harli sank into a brooding silence, and Julian knew he was remembering the early years.

“It’s hard when you’re young,” Harli said after a while. “The thirst is bad. You have to do a side-by-side hunt, not by yourself, or you could drain. And the Creed doesn’t.” His gaze turned inward before he went on. “Only vampires drain mortals.”

“How come you don’t call the Creed vampires?” Sky looked from Harli to Julian.

“The book,” Julian said. “
Dracula
. Stoker gave us all a bad name.”

“Was he a Shade?”

“He was till he got reaped for stealing people’s journals and letters and telling secrets he should have been quiet about,” Julian said. “He should have stuck to worms.”

“After that book, we started calling Dominion followers vampires,” Harli said.

“Where did you live?” Sky asked Harli.

“I lived in a…honeycomb?” Harli looked to Julian.

“Catacomb,” Julian said.

“Under Night Crypt,” Harli said. “It’s neutral ground. Vandar came there to talk. Mostly younglings went to hear. He thought the king did things wrong.”

“Marek did wrong things?” Sky asked.

“Vandar thought the Creed should do things a different way.”

“What did you think?” Sky made her tone intimate, inviting a secret.

“At first, nothing. But then I started listening. Went to hear him talk at gathering times.”

“Kind of like village town halls,” Julian added for Sky’s benefit.

“I wanted to hunt,” Harli said. He leaned against the tree behind him and rested one foot against the trunk. “When you’re young like that, you’re always hungry. And Vandar said he’d let the young hunt. All we wanted.” He looked at Sky. “I didn’t want mortals to die. But I wanted to feed.”

“It’s hard to say no when you want something that bad,” Sky said, with just the right hint of helplessness in her voice.

“Vandar had castles made out of brownstones in Dominion territory,” Harli said, “I went there. Joined the Dominion.”

“Brownstones off Washington Square Park,” Julian said.

Harli stared off into the black water of Turtle Pond. “It all went wrong,” he said. “The first time I drained a mortal and I felt his heart stop, it was bad. Come daytime, I couldn’t sleep. I kept hearing him begging me to stop. But I couldn’t.”

Sky let just a few seconds go by before she said softly, “You couldn’t?”

“I couldn’t stop. I was too hungry all the time. Couldn’t control it. I didn’t drain every time I drank. And I never meant to do it. The third law says Creed shouldn’t. But I did. A lot.”

“Don’t go around saying that, Harli,” Julian said. “You don’t want a confession getting back to the council.”

“Sorry, Julian,” Harli said.

Silence. Sky gave Harli time with his memories before she said, “But something happened.”

Harli nodded. “One night, there was a mortal. He knew I’d drain him. I don’t know how. All I wanted was to feed. He touched my face, looked in my eyes. ‘I forgive you,’ he said.” Harli breathed out, letting off excess heat. “I let him go. Then I tracked down Julian. I told him I wanted to come back to the Creed, or I’d walk into the sun, because I couldn’t stand it anymore. I couldn’t stand
me
anymore.” He gave Sky a quick, sad smile. “The council wanted to exile me for leaving the Creed. But Julian fought for me, and now I’m his ward.” He went quiet a moment. “I still get thirsty sometimes. But it’s better like this.”

Then Sky did exactly the right thing. She walked up to Harli, rested a hand on his shoulder, and said, “I’m glad you came back.”

And she meant it. Sky, Julian thought, was everything he’d ever wanted in a mate. She was brave, honest, and nearly fearless. He caught her hand and pulled her to him for a soft kiss.

Viper landed behind Julian and pushed a leaf into his hand. “Oracle says to come see him when the leaf calls you.”

“A leaf?” Julian said.

“He can make leaves talk?” Sky tried to pry Julian’s fist loose. He let his fingers fall open.

Julian barely held his temper. “What is this, Viper?”

He smoothed a hand over his bristle cut and raised his eyebrows. “It’s Oracle.”

A rustle of footsteps made Julian pull Sky behind him. No one got that close to a reaper without a greeting. Harli fell in beside him. Viper backed off, watching, waiting.

“Welcome, Prince.” The vampire who’d appeared offered Julian a short bow. “I trust you’re finding Mid-Year a pleasant celebration,” he said.

“Only if I can watch you walk off a pier at sunrise, Kraeyl,” Julian said.

* * * *

Sky tried to push between Julian and Harli, but it was like trying to squeeze between two boulders. She settled for looking at Kraeyl through the small gap between their shoulders. As he straightened from his bow, his long black hair gleamed. He moved with the controlled elegance of a lethal tai chi master. In his light green eyes, Sky sensed the intensity of a savage fighter. This was a man who would reduce his opponent to screaming agony and only grant the mercy of death long after it was due.

“Such threatening words on neutral territory, Prince,” Kraeyl said. “What kind of example are you setting for the Creed?” He nodded to Harli. “Lord Vandar sends his regards, young Harlique. He forgives your error in judgment. And he awaits your return.”

Sky felt a tremor run through Harli, like he might spring at Kraeyl and rip off both arms.

“And you, SkyLynne.” Kraeyl fixed his translucent eyes on her. “I look forward to having you with the Dominion. Vandar will enjoy you.”

Julian bowed his head.

Oh no, Sky thought. In the alley, Julian had given the men a chance to back down. It looked like the only chance he’d give Kraeyl was to breathe one last breath. The wind died away. The night sounds of the park melted into the wildly furious silence between Kraeyl and Julian. Everything froze. The clouds seemed to stop moving through the stars.

The tableau held until Viper eased between Julian and Kraeyl and murmured a warning to his brother. “Neutral ground.”

Julian raised his head and said, “When I come for you, Kraeyl, you won’t have any place to run.”

His right arm swept back in elegant grace, one foot forward, Kraeyl gave a low bow and said, “I await your pleasure, Prince.”

He took a step back, and then he was gone.

For long moments, Julian stared at the spot where Kraeyl had been standing. Viper touched his brother’s arm. “He wants you to go after him and break Mid-Year truce. What do you think he’s doing here? You’d be exiled. By sunrise, Vandar would have Sky.”

Julian’s gaze didn’t shift. This time when Sky pushed at Harli, he moved as if he were paper and she were the wind. She grabbed the front of Julian’s duster and shook. “Look at me,” she said. “I do
not
want to end up on the Vandar Gold Exchange.” She gave him another shake. “If you do something to make that happen,
you
won’t have any place to run.”

Behind Sky, Viper snickered. Harli was tactfully silent.

Julian gave a rueful smile and held his hands up in the classic gesture of surrender. Oracle’s leaf fluttered to the ground. “I give.”

A silent explosion of light went off. Julian swept Sky off her feet, rolled to the ground, and covered her.

“It was Oracle’s leaf. It caught fire,” Viper said from above them. He was putting his knives away. “Looks like it’s your turn.”

Tightening his grip on Sky, Julian said, “Maybe I should stay here.” He kissed Sky’s neck. “See if I can negotiate peace.”

As much as Sky loved the feel of Julian on top of her, she slapped at his shoulder. They were on the ground in Central Park. Was he crazy? “Get off me,” she said.

“Stay there, brother,” Viper said. “Me and Harli could watch history happen, a mortal female kicking Creed ass at Mid-Year.”

Julian got to his feet and Sky let him help her up. He was looking in the direction Kraeyl had gone. She could see in his eyes that some part of Julian wanted to chase after Kraeyl, tear out fingernails, then get out his knives and get serious. Trying to distract him, Sky said, “You’d really let me kick your ass?”

“You’re female,” he said.

But he didn’t say it the way a man from her world would have. His tone said
you’re royalty.

Just as he was reaching for Sky’s hand, Julian turned to Harli. “Go back to Night Crypt. I don’t want you out here with the vampires.”

“Not going, Julian.” Harli looked at the grass as if it were suddenly the most interesting plant he’d ever seen. “Told you. I owe you.”

“You owe me doing what I tell you so Marek reinstates you in seven years.” Julian sounded like a man who knew he was in a losing argument. And really, Sky thought, what could he do? Oracle was waiting on them. Sunrise, which would force Harli to shelter, was hours away.

“No.” Harli shook his head slowly, back and forth. “I’m staying.”

“I’ll watch over him,” Viper said, looking like a fighter who didn’t need a reason. “It’s not neutral ground for me.”

“Don’t turn crow,” Julian said.

Crow? Sky thought.

Viper looked over first one shoulder, then the other. “Nothing but gold wings,” he said.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sky kept a close eye on Julian because if there was a man most likely to kill tonight, it was him. Best to keep him talking. “Marek doesn’t seem like he’d have a bad temper,” she said.

“He doesn’t.”

Julian was keeping his promise—
no more lies
—but he wasn’t giving up answers.

“Harli called him a fury,” she said.

They were at the foot of the castle. Julian pointed up. “Oracle’s on the terrace. Better if we fly than take the stairs inside.”

He held his arms out to Sky, and she saw that Julian was stretched thin. It was in the way he held himself, as if he had to rein in something brutal and vicious every second. Whatever was inside Julian, driving him, he could barely stand it.

She folded herself into his waiting arms, heavy and strong, as if he’d been built to protect, to fight, to defend. They lifted gently from the ground, and when Sky looked up at Julian, his lips were there. They kissed, and everything Sky knew was Julian.

They landed on the broad terrace of Belvedere. Sky had been up there before, but never at night. Turtle pond was a black mirror, reflecting the soft amber light that lit the castle. Behind them lay the New York skyline.

Ankle-high mist rolled across the ground. The cobblestones threw back muted echoes of Julian’s boot heels. Jutting out at one corner of the terrace was an enclosure that always reminded Sky of a tiny replica Roman temple. Mini white columns held up a roof shaped like an upside-down flat-bottomed bathtub. Tonight the little temple, as Sky thought of it, swirled with restless mist.

As they drew near, a voice came from within, like wind whispering through dry leaves. “Welcome, Prince.”

As she watched, Julian downshifted, the way a driver with manual transmission would if he had to climb an unbelievably steep hill. “Oracle,” he said and nodded his head in greeting. “Been keeping all right?”

“All things are well with me,” the whispery, rasping voice said. “Please, enter and let us speak of dreams.”

Julian brushed his fingers over Sky’s hand. “Stay close,” he said, then went into the little enclosure. Sky waited a beat, then followed. The mist took them in. Neither the backwash of light from the castle nor the glow of the city penetrated. Oracle was standing with his back to them, at the farthest wall, hidden under a floor-length hooded black cloak.

“Welcome to the Shadow World, SkyLynne,” Oracle said. “I am sorry for your time of difficulty.”

It sounded eerily like a condolence, and Sky didn’t know what to say except, “Thanks.”

Quiet filled the small space, unbroken by anything except the sound of Sky breathing. Were they supposed to say something? Julian was looking out at the city, his face set, obviously waiting.

A sudden gust of wind billowed out Oracle’s cloak. “What is it you would have from me, Prince?”

As if he’d been waiting for this, Julian said, “Your wisdom.”

“And yet how strange,” Oracle said, “that you believe I have none to give.” He turned toward them, his face lost in the even folds of his hood. “But the mortal you would have for your mate is a believer.” He made a strangely slow bow to Sky. “You are a believer in dreams, are you not, young one?”

“Julian’s the only dream I ever had that came true,” Sky said, surprising herself.

Oracle brought his hands together just below his chest. His long exaggerated sleeves gave him the look of a monk in contemplation. “Spoken like a poet,” he said.

Julian, sounding like his patience was worn transparent, said, “Can you help me or not?”

“Not.” Oracle laughed, a whispered series of breaths. “Forgive me, Prince. I so rarely have the chance for entertainment.” He bowed his head as if in apology. “While it is true I cannot help you, I can help SkyLynne.” He turned his head toward Sky, who felt caught in the unforgiving glare of a thousand-watt searchlight. “You may ask three questions. No more. No less. You will ask them together, and then I will answer. Perhaps in sequence, perhaps not. You may not consult with”—he hesitated—“the one known to you as Julian. Are my terms understood, young one?”

The sudden shift from Wise Holder of All Truths to Wall Street Lawyer on a Mission stunned Sky into silence.