Shadow Rising (11 page)

“Why would your feelings matter?” His cool façade hardened. “The heir to the seat of power of the Northwestern Coven has an Aniliáre king’s sign carved into her stomach. It’s an insult to every witch under my care.”

Kara clasped her hands before her. Everything he said was true. She’d never meant for this to happen to Abbey, but Gable had come after her because of Kara. And now there was nothing she could do to fix it.

She lowered her voice and peered up at him with tortured eyes. “I understand what you’re saying, but I don’t know what to do to make it right. I’ve tried everything. And I know if you kill me, you’ll only hurt her more.”

Claudius cocked his head. “I’m not planning to kill you.”

“You’re not?”

He rose and walked around the fire with his robe trailing in the dust, then he knelt down beside Kara and met her eyes. “Killing you isn’t enough.” He swept a finger along Kara’s cheek, and she was amazed at the current of power flowing through him. She’d never felt such raw energy in a witch. “You’re going to heal her.”

Kara swallowed. “How?”

“The only way she can be healed—by drinking the blood of the Aniliáre.”

Her burst of laughter sprayed spittle onto his chin. “Are you crazy? How am I supposed to get that?”

“Very carefully?” He grinned as though he thought it was funny, and the men around him snickered.

“They’re
spirit
bound in flesh,” she sputtered. “They don’t live here. I don’t even know if they bleed.”

“You don’t need to educate me on the Fallen. That’s your mountain to conquer, Kara. You have three days, or I’ll take what recompense I can.”

“And what’s that?” She could tell from the flat tone of his voice it wasn’t good.

“Your life,” he said, and Sage smiled triumphantly at his words.

“So you are going to kill me, after all. You know I’m not strong enough to get the blood of a black-wing.”

“I’ll take your life to use as I see fit. I never said I was going to kill you. There may be other uses for you.” His gaze slipped fleetingly over her body and landed on her neck, but her pendants were tucked away under the collar of her long-sleeved dress shirt. “What clan do you belong to?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t belong to a clan.”

His grin stretched wider. “Oh, that’s unfortunate. I would have been willing to negotiate your freedom if you failed to bring me the blood. Now I don’t have any other option to restore honor to our people. I’m a fair man, Kara. If you really believe you can’t get the blood of the Aniliáre, tell me now, and I’ll take you as payment in full before anyone else gets hurt.”

Kara took a deep breath. “No, I’ll get the blood. But I need more time.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Okay. Why am I such a pushover? I’ll give you four days. But that’s it. Not an hour more.”

Kara nodded. She could tell he was just toying with her, and he’d enjoy it if she pleaded for more. “How much do I need, and what do I do with it?”

Claudius rose and offered a hand to help her stand. She ignored him and got to her feet in an awkward display of agony. He gestured to a woman sitting near the fire. “Bring me the vial.”

The hunchbacked woman pulled a red glass bottle from a pocket in her robe and came forward. The gold stopper in the top of the bottle was adorned with what looked like a real ruby.

Claudius took the bottle from her and turned to Kara. “If you succeed in getting the blood, put it in this vial. The blood must overflow the top before you seal it. Then you call me. I will personally do the ceremony, and Abbey will be healed.”

“Wow. Easy.”

He handed the vial to Kara, but when she grasped it with her right hand, her ruby ring sent a shock through her. She released the glass like it had bitten her, and Claudius snapped out his hand to catch it before it hit the floor. He was faster than he looked.

“Let me see your ring,” he said.

When he reached for her hand, she snatched it back. “No. It’s all I have from my father. You see, all Aniliáre artifacts contain
Quanta
, and this ring just doesn’t like the bottle. It’ll be fine.” She didn’t know what the hell she was talking about, but she hoped he didn’t figure that out.

“Keep your ring, for now. If you don’t deliver what’s expected of you, it’ll belong to me in four days anyhow.”

Kara took the bottle with her left hand and clutched it tightly to her. She’d had enough of these witches. If it wasn’t for helping Abbey, she wouldn’t do a damn thing they asked without putting up a fight. “Can I go now?”

“Are you forgetting something?” He handed her a card. “This is my personal number. If you want to give up, call me and the challenge is over. Of course, Abbey won’t be healed, but you might survive the week.”

She shoved it carelessly into her pocket. “I doubt I’m going to be calling in the next couple of days, but thanks for the offer.”

Sage stepped up beside Claudius and wound her arm around him like a python. “Would you like an escort out?”

Kara glared at her. “That didn’t work out real well for me the first time.”

Claudius laughed. “Suit yourself. You’ll see we really aren’t so bad if you keep your end of the bargain, Kara.”

Biting back a resounding
screw you
, Kara turned and slowly limped from the room. She didn’t know how such a beautiful place could house such cold people. She wound her way through the tunnels, aware of witches all around her using their cloaking spells. Even after she’d stashed the vial in her pocket, grabbed her weapons and walked into the ebbing light of dusk, they followed. It was hard not to break into a run as she headed for Tray’s car.

When he saw her ambling toward him, he jumped out of his vehicle and ran to her. “Holy shit, Kara. What happened?” He grasped her upper arms and helped her into the passenger seat of the car.

“Just drive.” She fastened her seat belt as he kicked up a cloud of dust on his way to the main road.

“Did they do that to you?” he demanded. “Why didn’t you dial my cell?”

She leveled a “get serious” look at him. “Kind of hard to get a signal from inside a mountain.”

He pointed to her charms. “You could have used one of those…necklace things.”

“And called who? Gavin is gone, Aiden’s looking for a reason to strand me on Mercury Island, and Jaxon needs to keep an eye on Abbey. I’ll deal with this myself.”

Tray shook his head. “And how are you going to do that?”

Kara pulled the red bottle from her pocket. “With this. And Julian’s blood.”

Chapter Seven

It made for an interesting discussion on the ride home from the summons, explaining how the man Kara had said was dead now had his face attached to the body of a black-wing. Other than the few facts she knew, she couldn’t tell Tray much. She didn’t even understand it herself.

Along the way, she tried calling Jaxon twice, but the calls went straight to voicemail. When he finally called her back, he told her that the phone’s reception was spotty and getting worse. She filled him in on what Claudius had said about the blood healing Abbey, and he seemed to think the idea had merit, but he warned that getting the blood would be almost impossible.

By the time Kara and Tray pulled alongside the curb in front of Kara’s apartment, the sun was long gone. She was starting to heal—not quite enough to want to go out for drinks, but enough that she felt bad for standing Tray up. “I’m sorry, Tray. You’ve been so great.”

He shrugged it off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, if you ever need my help for a case, all you have to do is ask.” She almost salivated at the thought. “Really, I mean it. I don’t get out there as much these days.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed a decrease in anonymous phone calls and suspects left drugged in alleys. Can’t say I’ve missed it.”

“Hey! Abbey and I were committed public servants for years. I can’t even count how many criminals we caught for you. We’ve just been a little off our game lately.”

“I think you’re right not to take her out there until she’s better. I’ll tell the guys in my unit to stop doing such a good job and leave you with some thug ass to beat as your reward.”

“Thanks. It would help take my mind off things until I can figure out how to get the black-wing to donate blood.”

“First you call it Julian, then ‘the black-wing’. Which is it?”

She wiped her palm across her dusty suit. “I don’t know.”

“Well until you do…” he began.

“I know,” she said with a laugh, “
be careful
.”

He smiled. “Wow, you
are
a mind-reader. But I was also going to say, stay in your apartment. The preliminary reports from the scene of the accident show the beam was exposed to a massive flash of heat at the seam before it fell. Forensics can’t figure out how it happened, but I have a hunch.”

“Magic?” The first face that popped into her mind was Sage. Could she hate Kara enough to want her dead before she’d even had a chance to fulfill the bargain?

“Magic. What else could it be?”

“You’re sure adjusting to the supernatural better than most humans would. We should make you an honorary Demiáre. Our mascot, or something,” she teased.

“Your
mascot
? Get the hell out of the car, Reed. I’m one hundred percent human male and proud of it.”

She laughed and closed the door behind her. He rolled down the window and pulled away from the curb saying, “Call me if you need me.” She gave him the thumbs-up as he drove away.

They’d actually had a conversation that didn’t involve him pumping her for information about Abbey. She was so shocked, a gnat’s breath could have blown her over. And spending more time with him, she could understand what Abbey saw in him before the attack.

She wasn’t the matchmaker type, but she wondered if Tray deserved another chance with the woman he loved. Was that disloyal to Jaxon? She didn’t know. Being in love with a dead man who wanted to kill her the next time their paths crossed didn’t exactly make her a love guru.

Kara walked through the lobby and punched the button for the tenth floor. The elevator seemed like a better option tonight, since her back still ached. She rode it up to the top floor, then entered her apartment and went straight to the bathroom to run a hot bath. It was weird coming home to an empty place. How quickly she’d gotten used to the smell of food cooking and the soft rise and fall of the television in the background.

While the water was running, she set the vial and Claudius’s card in the top drawer of her dresser, then disrobed, inspecting her suit for damage. “Noooo,” she groaned.

The blood and soil might come out, but the rips and pulled threads were a lost cause. It wasn’t even in good enough shape to add to her give-away clothes pile. What a waste. She’d have to put it on Sage’s tab.

She walked into the bathroom and threw the wadded clothes in the trashcan, then looked herself over in the mirror. Halfway down her spine, a black bruise darkened her skin. If she were human, she’d be paralyzed right now or maybe even dead. Anger made the hairs on her arms prick and the tips of her fingers itch. This wasn’t what she needed. She needed to relax.

Once the tub was full, she lit a votive and placed it on the sink, then she turned off the light and stepped into the bath, releasing a long, blissful sigh as the warm water covered her skin. She washed her hair and massaged her scalp, feeling her fatigued body beginning to relax. After dunking her head to rinse away the lather, her muscles finally gave way, and her head slumped against the side of the tub.

He cries for you. His moans shatter the dark sky. Come to him. Save him. He’s balanced at the edge of a great precipice. Don’t let him fall.

Come, Kara.

Kara awoke with a jerk, her arms flailing in the cold water. The faint smell of burned-out candle filled the air. She shivered and rubbed her eyes with wet hands. How long had she been asleep, and what had woken her up?

The muffled cry of a newborn baby rang through the walls. It had to be another bad dream. She’d had so many of those in the past few months, she wondered if she would ever sleep peacefully again.

She splashed water on her face, then groped on the counter for the towel she’d placed there. It was so damn dark, she couldn’t see a thing. She pulled the plug and rose to her feet, instantly chilled by the cool air on her frigid skin. The sound of the water draining mixed with a low whine of misery coming from somewhere outside. Goose bumps broke out over every inch of her skin, but she wrapped the towel tightly around her and tiptoed out the bathroom door and into the master bedroom, her dripping hair leaving a path of glistening drops in her wake.

The keening intensified, coming from the other side of her balcony window, but now that she was awake, it didn’t sound so much like a baby. She stopped in front of the doors, and it was all she could do not to close her eyes when she pulled back the curtains. The quick movement of the fabric and her frightened gasp startled the white cat huddled against the railing of the balcony. He met her eyes through the glass, his ears pinned back.

“Pibby!” She threw open the doors and was just about to bound through when reality hit. She lived on the tenth floor. There was no way Mr. Pibb, missing six long months, could have made it up to her apartment.