Where once innocence and integrity had been her course, in the end, her blood had run true. The Van Nostren line of Dark Lords continued with its most promising son, ‘Sin Garu, and now, its menacing daughter.
“I,” she paused, her mouth pursed in what promised to be an interesting lead. The paleness of her features only emphasised the full, bloody-red pout of her mouth. The dark shadows under her eyes made her gaze that much more piercing, the light blue so pale as to be almost ashen, but striking set against the inky blackness of her hair.
“Yes, Blue, you what? Wanted to see me again? Wanted to talk? Wanted me to forgive you? Take your pick.”
He stood against the wall, his arms and legs splayed, unable to do more than stand there. Yet his words had scored their intended damage.
“You forgive me?” She slapped him hard across the face, her slender palm shooting pulses of blue flame where it touched. “I hope it burns,” she seethed, glaring like a she-wolf prepared to strike. “You weren’t worth the effort then, and you sure aren’t worth it now.”
He sighed. “I’m shocked. After all this time, that’s all you’ve got?” He knew pushing her wasn’t smart, but he couldn’t help wanting to hurt her as much as he possibly could. And given her powerful magic and his inability to strike using his, words were all he had. “Sweetheart, you used to beg for my affection like a stray dog. So weak at heart, while so strong in Dark magic. But at least you left on a grand scale, killing Muri and her kin, a fitting tribute to your real family.” He shrugged, as if reminders of the thoughtless deaths hadn’t wounded him a thousand times over.
“I never killed Muri,” she said in a low growl, her eyes almost wraithlike in blinding white brilliance.
“And you never knew who your real parents were, right?” He stared with apparent disbelief. “Don’t tell me your intelligence has gone the way of your looks? Give me some credit for knowing you back then.”
She trembled, her fists clenched as she leaned so close their breaths mingled. “Your time is coming, and sooner than you think.” She kissed him softly, the cold of her breath scalding his throat and lungs. “I can only hope Cadmus isn’t as pathetic as you were when I left. That boy’s got potential.” She licked at his bottom lip. “Now I have better things to do than play with you. Thanks for the memories.”
Rage, the likes of which he’d only once before felt filled him, burning through the buffer and the manacles at his wrists. He balled his fists to gather a fuelling storm of violence when a sudden flash of light filled the room, then…nothing. Lexa had vanished, and with her the restraints holding him back. It was as if she’d never been there at all.
Her threat about Cadmus worried him, so much so that he teleported back to his room in Tanselm in the western kingdom. Disregarding his various wounds and the blue flame licking its way towards his core, he teleported Darius and Marcus to his quarters at once.
They blinked at him in surprise, no doubt taken aback by his rough handling and ragged appearance.
“Cadmus is missing, the Van Nostrens are aligned, and the Djinn are pushing closer than ever. I need you to return with me. Now.”
Chapter Nine
Aerolus and Alandra stood in the kitchen over the centre island, sipping coffee and making plans as if the day was like any other in Seattle.
For a moment Alandra wished it were. How novel to imagine that she and Aerolus were xiantopes, a couple preparing for a day’s work, chatting about mundane matters. Groceries, errands, who would cook dinner and what would they do that night.
Aerolus stared at her strangely.
“What?” she asked defensively, hoping she hadn’t been obvious in her daydreaming.
“Is it me, or is your glow completely gone, and you’re three inches taller?”
She smiled. She’d toned down her skin’s brilliance in hopes of fitting in with the inhabitants of this world. But the height stemmed from Aerolus’ gift that morning. Now standing, she could stare at his throat instead of the middle of his chest. “I’m taller!” Whirling around on a pair of black leather Nine West boots, she posed for him. “Do you like them? They’re really me, aren’t they?”
“Where did they come from?” He looked puzzled. “I set out a pair of jeans, sneakers and a sweater for you on the bed.”
She rolled her eyes. “Thanks for conjuring me some of the ugliest clothes a woman could possibly wear. I just did a little fiddling.”
He scowled, surprising her. More and more he lost his control around her, showing her what he felt instead of masking his expressions. Excitement surged within her at her mage’s temper. Storm Lords were an intimidating lot, and Aerolus’ grey eyes snapped like lightning when he was irritated, as he was now.
“Change back.”
“What?”
“I said, change back. I like the way you look, the real you. Now change back.”
She grumbled to contain the smile that threatened to spill. Imagine that. Aerolus Storm liked the way she looked, short stature and all. With a shimmer she reverted to herself.
“Well, here I am, in all my ‘off the rack’ glory.”
He sighed but lost the scowl. After planting a quick kiss on top of her head, he stepped back and drained the rest of his coffee. “Purie, I forgot something. Wait right here and I’ll be back.” With a silent stealth she admired, he flashed out of sight before her eyes.
The Mir stone made a popping noise when the Aellei teleported. At the thought, she frowned, reminding herself to demand he return the charm. Without it, she couldn’t skip worlds at all.
“Must be nice to have teleportation at the tips of your fingers,” she murmured. “Control freak.”
“I heard that,” he whispered in her ear and nuzzled her cheek, half scaring her to death. “And no, you can’t have it back until I’m sure.”
“Sure?” she breathed, clutching her chest.
“Sure that you won’t leave until we can talk, really talk,” he said quietly.
An undercurrent of unease rumbled through her, and a feeling not unlike that she’d experienced when the wraith had invaded struck her.
“Thank the Shadow,” she murmured. She wanted to delay the conversation, hoping they could avoid it altogether until she returned home. She didn’t want to hear all the reasons why they’d never work as a couple. Talking about it would only depress her.
A shudder grabbed her, refocusing her concern. “Something’s coming.”
Without hesitation he thrust her behind him and erected a shield of frothing wind in seconds.
“I can’t see,” she complained.
“Alandra,” he growled. “Stop being a pain in the ass and stay the hell back.”
“Nice language. I bet you wouldn’t say that to your affai, now would you?”
Silence met her taunt, and she wanted to kick herself for blurting what she’d just managed to avoid. Wasn’t it enough she’d been dwelling on his affai all night? So what that they didn’t have a future? They had right now, and reminders that Aerolus had an unknown bride waiting for him somewhere weren’t conducive to hot, heavy sex.
He held up a hand. “Not another word.”
Thankfully— how desperate am I to view a threatening intrusion as a thankful delay?—a dark void appeared on the far wall of the living room. Keeping the kitchen island and the wall of wind between them, Aerolus pressed Alandra back until only the dishwasher stood between her and the wall.
“Aerolus, I can’t breathe,” she huffed, only slightly appeased when he gave her half an inch.