Chapter 8

 

He’d never met her. At least, he didn’t think so. He just couldn’t wrap his head around the images prodding to be remembered. They were all there, a whole waterfall of them crashing down on him, suffocating him, forcing him to put them together, but all that he could think was, holy shit, it’s her, although he had absolutely no idea who she was.

“Hey!” Reggie’s voice cut through his stunned horror, jerking Magnus back with a jolt. “I need a key,” he was saying when Magnus focused.

For one stupid moment, he actually glanced down at his own bloody hands as if expecting there to be keys there he’d forgotten about.

There wasn’t, and at some point, he’d also lost his blade. He found it on the ground by his feet where it must have slipped from his fingers.

He snatched it up.

“Magnus, keys.”

“Keys … right.”

He turned and hurried out in search of Clou. The Sorta demon was gone, so was his horse. In his place lay a set of bronze keys that shone too brightly in the inferno. He snatched them up with a handful of sand he shook off and hurried inside to find Reggie trying to revive the girl.

He looked up when Magnus stormed in. He caught the keys Magnus pitched at him and quickly undid the fastens from around her left wrist. The chains hit the ground with a resounding clatter, freeing her. He swept her up and followed Magnus into the cold night air.

The coach was nearly up in flames by the time they reached the sled. The light illuminated the night in a brilliant gold. It chased away the chill and left a strange metallic scent in the air.

Reggie laid the girl down gently in the flatbed and sat back on his hunches.

“What do you think she is?” he wondered out loud. “She’s not human, but not a demon, or a veil creature.”

Magnus had no idea what she was. But his brother was wrong and right; she was and wasn’t a demon. She was a veil creature, but wasn’t. Not entirely, but enough. Her scent was strong, but diluted. It was inhuman, but not entirely demon. There were no markings, no horns, or trail. Her long arms ended in small, delicate hands and slender fingers. Her legs were endless, toned, supple, and the right one was decorated with an intricate spiral of vines that twined in a clear tribal tattoo around a shapely thigh. It wove up and disappeared beneath the slit of her gown. Her feet were bare, the toes unpainted. But it was her hair that fascinated him.

Sheets of flawless platinum fanned out beneath her like silver wings that practically glowed in the darkness. Each strand glistened almost metallic, but he knew it would be as soft as a kitten’s fur. It hung in a single length all the way to her ankles in perfect lines. Wisps had been sheared around her face, framing the heart shape in feathery layers. Her lips are slightly parted, revealing straight, blunt teeth.

“Mag?” Reggie must have been speaking. He was watching Magnus expectantly. “Do you know her?”

Magnus shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Reggie fixed his brown eyes back on her. “I don’t recognize her. I don’t think I’d forget someone who looks like her.”

She was beautiful and definitely not someone a man could easily forget. Everything about her prickled along Magnus skin in a warm caress, like stepping out of the shadows into warm sunlight. The sensation was as daunting as it was unwelcomed. He had to roll his shoulders to shake it off.

“Is she the package?” Magnus asked instead, ignoring the tension in his own voice.

His brother shrugged. “I hope so.” He cast a glance in the direction of the crackling bonfire. “Otherwise…”

He didn’t need to say it. If the girl wasn’t what they’d come for, whatever their mission was, was now ashes.

“Why do you think they had her chained up?” Reggie pressed, pulling Magnus’s attention back to the girl and the bracelet of raw skin around her wrist.

At a glance, she appeared harmless enough. If anything, looking at her, all he wanted to do was protect her from all the world’s cruelties. Everything about her seemed incredibly fragile, yet he knew those were the ones to watch for.

“Get some rope.”

Reggie blinked. “Are you sure?”

“Until we know what we’re dealing with, yes.”

Reggie seemed to consider that, but his brows furrowed over narrowed eyes. “Where’s Nobu?”

It was only that moment Magnus noticed the warrior’s absence. The desert had gone back to its usual silence apart from the wind pushing loose bits of sand down the inclines. The fire popped and somewhere in the near distance, they could hear Dante snacking on the remains of the Creewel women. But no Nobu.

“Nobu!” Magnus cursed when there was no answer. “We won’t find him in the dark and I’m not searching for him.”

He stalked away before his brother could argue. He walked to the roaring fire ball and scavenged the surrounding area for weapons and anything else they could use.

He dumped what he did find, which was a length of rope and Clou’s sleeping bag into the sled and quickly tethered the horse to the front.

“We need to go before that fire draws any more unwelcome attention.”

“What about Nobu?”

Magnus tossed the reins over the horse’s back. “Either he’s dead or he took off.”

“Should we look for him?”

“If he’s dead, there isn’t any point,” Magnus rationalized. “If he’s taken off, we’ll see him sooner or later. If there’s anything I know about him, it’s that he’s like a roach.”

He whistled for Dante. The hound bounded out of the darkness and skidded up alongside the sled, tail thumping wildly.

“Where the hell were you?” Magnus asked him. “You were supposed to be watching Reggie.”

Dante’s tail ceased its movement. His head lowered in shame.

“I told him to stay,” Reggie cut in. “I figured we might need him not to get killed.”

“You told him to stay?”

Reggie nodded. “Yeah, I used that word … keese. It worked.”

Magnus could only shake his head. He motioned for Reggie to get into the sled.

Reggie climbed into the back as Magnus did the same behind the horse. He snapped the reins and sent the beast trotting forward into the straining darkness.

There was a reason he disliked traveling by night. There was no moon there, no stars, just an endless void that went on for miles. It was impossible to tell where they were going, never mind what lay ahead. And Magnus was done with surprises.

He took the horse as far south as he felt safe doing before drawing to a stop. He hopped out and circled to the back, one hand braced along the side.

“Stay with her, stay sharp.”

Reggie scrambled clumsily down after him. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to hide our tracks. Just stay here. You too,” he told Dante.

He lit a torch, a dangerous, stupid decision, but a necessary one as he set out, following their trail to the still smoldering coach. It was nearly a full twenty-minute walk, but he reached it without incident. From amongst the rubble, he unearthed a jagged slab of roofing and more rope. He tied one end of the rope to the board. The other was thrown around his shoulders. He dragged the board behind him, over the deep prints in the sand all the way back, leaving behind a smooth flatland behind him.

“Magnus?” Reggie’s voice caught him as Magnus made it over the ridge to where the sled was parked. The horse, the dog, the carriage, and his brother were a dark silhouette outlined against the rising sun. The light caught the sharp edges of his brother’s daggers. “That you?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, untangling himself from the rope and board, and tossing aside the torch. “That should be enough to keep anyone from following us.” He glanced to the north, more visible now that he knew where the sun was rising from. “We’re about half a day’s journey to the portal.”

“Magnus.”

He looked up at the low murmur of his brother’s voice.

Reggie stood stiffly by the wagon, his face tight. He gave a subtle jerk of his head and Magnus followed the movement to the wagon, and the figure sitting there, cocooned in blankets.

His stomach flipped. It was an involuntary plummet he couldn’t stop until it was too late. It hit the sand between his ankles and settled there like a rock. His skin prickled, a tingling ripple of heat that rode the length of his sweat drenched spine. He had an inexplicable urge to shiver.

It was bit back, as was the need to bolt. Instead, he steeled himself and strode forward, reminding himself he was a Caster and women couldn’t be trusted.

“You’re awake.” He closed the distance to the wagon in ten powerful strides.

In the pale gold of dawn, there was no missing the illumination of all the things he’d missed in the dark, like just how silver her hair really was, how absolutely flawless her skin was, and her face … there were no words to properly describe its utter perfection. Sitting atop a crate, clutching a blanket about her shoulders, she could have been an ivory statue, something sculpted straight from his very fantasies. Even her wide, violet eyes with their thick sweep of lashes were mesmerizing. They glimmered in the rising light, polished gems embedded on a landscape of freshly fallen snow. He had never seen eyes like hers. He couldn’t stop staring.

She never spoke. She didn’t even move. But her gaze was a steady force, dogging his every movement with wary curiosity.

“What’s your name?” He put force behind the question, authority, but there was a catch in his chest that he prayed only he caught.

She said nothing, but there was a defiant quirk of her chin that narrowed her eyes. It was the regal gesture of a queen, of someone who feared nothing.

“She hasn’t spoken since she woke up.” Reggie moved to stand at Magnus’s side. “I’m not sure if it’s because she can’t, or won’t, or maybe she doesn’t understand.”

No. There was intelligence in her eyes. There was arrogance and hatred, and anger. She understood. But she was a prisoner and they were the ones responsible for her current captivity. To her, they were the enemy and she would give them nothing. Something about that entertained him.

“She understands.” Magnus turned away and made his way to the front of the wagon. He paused to peer down at Dante. “Stay with her. She makes one false move, eat her.”

He glanced back just in time to see the spark of rage in those pale lavender eyes, see the flare of her nostrils and the muscles flex against the delicate line of her jaw. Her outrage prickled an amusement in him that he had to turn away to keep her from seeing.

He climbed onto the wagon seat, smothering a grin as he sat and gathered up the reins.

Reggie climbed in and sat across from the demon. Magnus waited a heartbeat before snapping the leather cords and propelling the horse further south.

There were no words spoken. The silence was filled by the steady squeak of wheels, the occasional snort from the horse and Dante’s panting. The sun rose high, scorching the sand and their faces. Clever, the demon used the blanket as shade, holding the fabric over her head for most of the journey.

When they reached the oasis, Magnus hopped down and left Reggie to assist their guest while he determined the best way to get the horse behind the waterfall. The cart would have to stay, but they still needed the animal. He contemplated crossing the lake, but he wouldn’t be able to haul the horse over the rocks. He could go around. It was longer, but at least the horse wouldn’t be roasted to a crisp.

“Are you thirsty?” Reggie was asking the demon when Magnus walked past them, guiding the horse to the water’s edge.

The demon said nothing, nor did she accept the canteen Reggie offered her.

“Leave her,” Magnus told his brother. “She can have water when she’s ready to talk.”

Reggie gaped at him. “Seriously?”

Leaving the horse to drink, Magnus returned to stand at his brother’s shoulder and peer down at the demon.

She had removed the blanket and sat stiffly on the smooth surface of a boulder. Her bound hands rested neatly in her lap as though the ropes were her idea and meant nothing to her. She looked every inch the goddess in her Grecian gown in layers of flowy, white cotton perfect for hot weather. The jeweled straps glinted over the delicate curves of her shoulders. The clear gems trickled down the sweetheart bodice to dust the tight sash confining her tapered waist. The rest was a shimmering waterfall separated in deep cuts up both legs to the hips.

She was trouble, and she wore it like a crown.

Everything about that made his insides hot.

“I’m not the sort you want to play with,” he warned her, careful not to let his gaze slip to her lips. “The only reason I’m not tying you to the cart and dragging you the rest of the way is because you are the means to a much bigger end. Now, you can accept the water and food you are given or don’t. Either way, it’s not going to change your fate.”

Her pale eyes met his, unflinching. It was the look of a woman who just stepped in dog shit, but oddly dignified. It remained even as she rose in a graceful wave of willowy limbs and stood before them.

For a moment, he honestly thought she was going to tell him to fuck off. Instead, she shoved between them and marched to where the horse was drinking. She bent at the water’s edge, uncaring as the moisture soaked her skirt, and drank from her own cupped hands.

Reggie met Magnus’s gaze. His eyebrow lifted in silent, amused question.

Magnus shook his head. He stalked to the wagon instead. He motioned Reggie to help with the jars of water.

“Let’s get these behind the fall,” he told the other man. “We’ll refill the water before the heatwave.”

Reggie scooped up as many jars as he could carry in one of the empty crates and started after Magnus. It took two trips, but they got their supplies beneath the veil of water, all the while, he kept a very close eye on their companion. She hadn’t left her spot, but Magnus wasn’t stupid enough to take her compliance as submission, especially not when he knew what he would do if he were in her place. It wasn’t coincidence that she had chosen a spot close to the horse or that she kept darting glances in his direction when she thought he wasn’t looking. She was beautiful, but she would be extremely stupid if she made her grand escape on the cusp of a heatwave. Only an idiot tried to outrun it and there wasn’t another safe location for miles.

“I wouldn’t,” he warned her as he took the horse’s reins, just to be safe. “You won’t make it very far before you’re burned to a crisp, nor before I catch you, which I will. That is, if Dante doesn’t eat you first.”

The glance she shot him was venomous, a sure sign he’d need to sleep with one eye open around her.

She joined them behind the falls. With the three of them, plus the horse, Dante, and most of their things, the slit of space had them practically on each other’s toes, but they waited out the heatwave and returned to the cart when it was over. Reggie helped Her Highness back into the wagon as Magnus fastened the horse to the front. Every so often, he found his gaze drifting over to their guest, to her calm stillness and wondered, yet again, how she was any sort of importance to Damier. Whatever it was, whatever she was, it and she were clearly rare. Damier didn’t waste his time on things that wouldn’t bring him the most profit. She clearly wasn’t very powerful if they were able to restrain her with a scrap of rope. She was a demon of sorts, a lower class one with some if not zero powers. Or she was extremely powerful and was just waiting for the right time to kill them. Either way, he would need to keep an eye on her.

“Offer Her Highness some food, Reg,” Magnus instructed. “We need her alive.”

He heard Reggie moving around behind him. He knew there wasn’t much food, but it would be enough until they reached the portal.

“She won’t take it.”

It was tempting to just keep going and let her starve. His job was to bring her back. Damier never said dead or alive, though he implied alive. Plus, she wouldn’t exactly die without food for a few more hours, then she’d be Damier’s problem.

Nevertheless, he found himself tugging on the horse. It whined in protest but scrambled to a stop. Magnus hopped out and circled to the back of the wagon. Grabbing the sides, he leaped up to join the two.

“Take Dante for a walk,” he told his brother. “I need a word with our guest.”

Reggie hesitated. His anxious expression darted from Magnus to the girl and back like he wasn’t sure he liked the idea of leaving her alone with the man. Magnus couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t beneath him to strangle her; she wasn’t human. She wasn’t even really a woman. She was a demon, a monster. Magnus could gut her and not lose sleep.

“I won’t kill her,” he promised the other man. “We, unfortunately, need her.”

“Killing her isn’t my worry,” Reggie muttered, but he rose and hopped to the ground.

Neither she nor Magnus said a word for several long minutes, even after Reggie and Dante had stopped at the top of a high crest nearly fifteen feet away. Their battle of wills clashed in a cacophony of iron and steel. Her startling gaze bore mercilessly into his, unnerved and too bold. It made him wonder what they would look like dark and filled with passion.

He immediately discarded that lunacy before it took root. He leaned back instead, a pathetic attempt at space.

“Do you know why you’re here?” he asked her.

She said nothing.

Magnus continued. “Because your presence means the happiness of my family. That might not mean very much to you, demon. But there is very little I won’t do for the people I love, including delivering you to your death or whatever may befall you once we reach our destination. You will not get sympathy or coddling from me because you’re a woman, because we both know you’re not. Beneath that…” He gestured to the lithe length of her. “Is a creature without a soul, a monster that cares only for blood and the pain of others. I personally couldn’t care less what becomes of you, so believe me when I tell you that you can’t play on my compassions. I have none.”

He expected a great number of things, anger, distaste, even tears maybe. He never expected the slow grin that curled the corners of her mouth.

“What—?”

“I know what you are, Magnus Avery,” a low, sultry purr hissed between his ears, a familiar drawl he recognized from the previous night. Once again, it was poured into his mind without her lips actually forming the words. “I have seen what is in your head and in your heart and it is blacker and colder than the longest night. I may be what I am, but at least I can still look myself in the mirror.”

A chill coursed the length of his spine with serrated fingers. Outside, he remained stoic, unmoved.

“Then you know I will do exactly what I say.”

Her smile widened. “You won’t hurt me. You want me. You want to defile me until I have paid for the price of your loss.”

One leg shifted, a subtle nudge that freed it from the fabric of her skirt. Every inch of skin exposed hooked a fresh anchor in him, keeping him rooted to the spot, fixated by every heartbeat that came out a little too hard. The slit in her dress slipped open over her marked thigh. The intricate web of vines appeared even darker against her ivory skin. Each one overlapped in a teasing play around the supple limb, winding and dipping until it disappeared beneath the dark V where the slit ended and she began.

“Shall I go on?” she toyed inside his head.

Her knees parted an inch, then another. It wasn’t nearly enough to show him heaven, but fuck, the madness was unstoppable.

“Show me.”

The words escaped without a shred of consent from him. He wasn’t even fully certain he’d spoken until he heard the deep, throaty laugh rolling over and over along the walls of his skull.

The sound jerked him back to the present and the woman watching him.

“Where is that animosity now, Caster?” she taunted, tossing her skirt back down over her legs. “Where is that disgust? You would use my body to pleasure your own, though I am vile in your eyes.” Her grin twisted into one of vile loathing. “You are but a little man who will die being nothing.”

Anger rolled over his shoulders and along the lines of his spine in rivulets of pure hatred. “And you will die being a soulless beast.”

Their gazes clashed for what felt like hours, neither one wanting to look away first. Magnus knew she was toying around in his head, searching for something to use against him, but she would find nothing. He had no weaknesses. He couldn’t afford to, not when he spent most of his day confronting demons like her, demons who could slip into a man’s mind and twist his thoughts. She wasn’t the first to try.

But he did notice she didn’t actually speak out loud. He wasn’t sure if that was because she wanted to remind him she was in his head, or because she honestly couldn’t. He’d known one other demon who could do that, but only because he’d had his tongue cut out as a child. Telepathy was his only source of communication. He, however, had had horns and green skin like a frog. Magnus doubted the two were related; there was nothing reptilian about this demon.

Reggie returned then with Dante trotting alongside him. He dusted his hands on his trousers, oblivious to the tension practically setting the wagon up in flames. He exhaled as he heaved himself up next to his brother.

“So, what have we decided?”

Magnus rose. “That in a few short hours, she will no longer be our problem.”

He turned, opting to climb over the crates rather than go around to regain his seat behind the horse. The faster they continued moving, the quicker he’d be rid of her.

“Would you like to know what your brother thinks when he looks at me?”

Magnus stumbled short.

“My comfort,” she went on seductively inside his head. “He’s a good man, loyal and strong. He would have made a wonderful husband and father. His children would have been beautiful. It’s a shame he will die.”

The world blurred as Magnus spun to the solemn faced siren watching him. Her violet eyes shimmered, mirroring the glimmer of triumph quirking her mouth.

“You touch him and I will rip your insides free through your mouth,” he snarled.

Startled, Reggie jumped. “What?”

Neither one paid him any attention.

“He will not die today, or tomorrow, but he will die and he will suffer in such a way that death will be a mercy.”

Magnus lunged before he could rein himself. His blade tore out of its sheath with deadly accuracy and ledged up against the underside of her chin, forcing it up, forcing her face up to his.

“Tell me!”

She never so much as batted an eyelash. Her gaze remained unnervingly focused, but void of its arrogance.

“I cannot see that.”

“See that?” Breathing hard, he loosened his hold enough not to slit her throat. “What are you?”

“What I am is of no concern—”

“Tell me!”

“Magnus, what are you doing?” Reggie was on his feet, eyes wide with panic. “What are you talking about?”

It dawned on him that she was talking solely to him. She was in his head only.

“What are you? What the fuck are you?” he roared when she remained firmly silent. “Tell me or so God help me—”

He closed a hand around her chin, a careless and stupid move, a recklessness that ripped through him with a ferocity that plunged day into night and winter into summer. The ground vanished, dissolving into powdery mist of sand and chaos. The heavens warped into swirls of colors so bright, they tore through his vision, blinding him. He may have screamed. Someone was. It echoed through the endless void of darkness in a desperate shriek.

Then there was nothing. No light. No sound. He was a bodiless soul drifting through an ocean of calm and eternal peace.

Peace.

He hadn’t felt that in eons.

Maybe he was finally dead.

Maybe his fight was finally over and he could rest.