Shadow City Read online

  Xaphan’s fires had not destroyed the magically shielded greenhouses, but every plant inside had withered and died. Now every able body was tasked with coaxing seeds and cuttings to life. There was already a bite in the air that signaled early snows. There were few witches to help with the growing, although the recent additions of Max’s father and brother had been welcome, not to mention the two Triangle-level witches Alexander and Max had rescued when their California covenstead had come under attack.

  But those were not what caught Alexander’s eye. A girl sat on a boulder just outside the entrance. She was slender and wore artfully torn jeans and a form-fitting blouse. Her hair was the color of ripe wheat and hung loose to her waist. Earbuds hung in her ears, and she tapped her fingers on her leg as she scanned the darkness. She had not yet seen Alexander and Niko approaching. But then, Shadowblades could see perfectly in cave darkness, and Tory was merely human. She was also Max’s nineteen-year-old niece and a total pain in the ass.

  Since Max’s disappearance, Tory had started following Alexander around like a lovesick rattlesnake. She hated Horngate and hated that she had been dragged here against her will through the middle of a magical cataclysm. She hated that she was not allowed to go anywhere, that she had no friends, and that she had nothing to do except work. She was bitter and angry, and somewhere along the line, she had decided that Alexander was the cure for what ailed her. It did not hurt that her mother thought he was evil incarnate.

  She did not care that he was not interested or that even though he looked like he was twenty-five, he was really more than a hundred years old. She wanted him, and with the supreme confidence of a beautiful young girl, she had decided she would have him.

  Another time, her childish relentless pursuit should have amused him, but now it only infuriated him. He had little patience for anything at the moment. But because she was Max’s niece, he kept himself in check and avoided Tory as much as possible. She had taken to waiting outside for his dawn return, knowing that he could not survive the light of day. She followed him to the dining commons and to his apartment. She refused to accept even the most curt dismissals. Alexander was well aware that the other Blades found his predicament amusing, a fact that only ground his nerves more.

  “Not again,” he muttered. His patience was frayed to a thread.

  “She’s got a crush on you.”

  “She is a menace, and she is going to get hurt.”

  Niko’s brows rose. “She’s just a girl. Surely you can handle her.”

  “If she pushes much harder in the shape I am in, I could kill her. She drives me nuts. She is worse than a swarm of starving fleas. Just keep her away from me so I do not accidentally kill her. Consider it an order.”

  He strode away before Niko could answer. He was just ten feet away from Tory when at last she woke to his presence. She leaped down from her rock, yanking the earbuds from her ears.

  “Alex! I’ve been waiting for you. ”

  “You should be in bed,” he said, not stopping.

  “Hey, wait!”

  She reached for his arm, but then Niko was there. He intercepted her hand and pulled her away. “Tory. You’re up late. Can’t you sleep?”

  Alexander did not wait for the answer. He broke into a jog, swiftly leaving the other two behind.

  Giselle’s quarters were on the south side of the mountain. Outside was a hollowed-out area. It lacked a rug or any furnishings, those having been destroyed in the angels’ battle. The double doors were firmly fixed, having been repaired twice—once just after the attacks and once when Giselle had lost control of her powers and nearly burned the mountain down again.

  No one stood guard. Alexander glowered. That had to change. He banged a fist on the polished oak. The sound echoed. He waited a moment, then hammered again. It was another few minutes before Giselle opened the door. She was wrapped in a silk robe, her chestnut hair a shining cascade down her back. Her face was delicately formed, with high cheekbones and a pointed chin. Her blue eyes were relentless and cold.

  “What’s wrong?” she demanded.

  “I am taking Prime,” Alexander told her, shouldering inside.

  She stared, her mouth flattening to a thin white line. “That’s quite a change. What’s your game?”

  “The kind that brings Max back,” he told her. His Prime had risen again. His emotions roiled. He looked away from Giselle, his teeth gritting. He wanted to kill her for trading Max to Scooter.

  She folded her arms. “How do you figure?”

  “You remember I told you that Magpie had given me a prophecy. That she said I would have my heart’s desire and that I would be Prime.”

  “I do.”

  “You remember there was more to the prophecy that I did not tell you.”

  She nodded, her eyes narrowed. Magic gathered around her. He grinned wolfishly. It looked like he was not the only one with control problems. The air in the chamber grew thick with it. “Get to the point.”

  “Part of the prophecy has already come true. All that is left is that I be made Prime and I will have my heart’s desire. Since Max is everything I want, then I say we get on with it so we can get her back.”

  “You think it is that simple? Why should I just believe you?”

  “You’re blind if you don’t,” Niko said, coming in. “He’s coming apart at the seams. I believe him. So does Tyler.”

  She turned a cold look on Niko, who stared back, not backing down in the slightest. Max’s influence, no doubt. Alexander’s mouth curved in a fleeting smile.

  “I’m afraid I need more,” Giselle said.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Niko started, but his mouth snapped shut when threads of inky magic spun around her fingers and up her arms.

  She made a frustrated sound and turned her back. She drew a breath and let it out slowly. Another. When she turned back around, her face was pale, but the magic had disappeared.

  “Does that happen often?” Niko demanded as he pushed her into a chair.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “Yeah, I can tell. How often do you lose it like that?”

  Alexander went to a sideboard and filled a glass of water from a magically chilled pitcher. He brought it to her. She took it and sipped. Her fingers trembled.

  Over her head, Alexander exchanged a glance with Niko. Giselle had been terribly weakened in the angel battle as she fought to protect the Keep from the worst of the damage. The rest of the coven had been killed when the rogue witch, Alton—who had also been an ally, or so they all thought—had somehow sabotaged the shields so that when the coven had tried to bolster them, every witch but Giselle and Magpie had been drained to death.

  Giselle’s recovery had been slow, aggravated by the need for her to rebuild the shield wards and get the greenhouses growing again.

  “I’m just tired,” she said, setting the glass aside and folding her hands together tightly. “It is, after all, the middle of the night, and I was sleeping. Couldn’t this have waited until morning?”

  “I don’t think so,” Niko said. “You’d better get dressed. There’s something you need to see.”

  She went still, then stood and disappeared into her bedchamber without another word.

  “You had better fetch Oz. Bring Tutresiel and Xaphan, too,” Alexander told Niko. “We will meet you at the main entrance.”

  The other man gave a short nod and quickly left. Alexander stared after him. Whether or not Giselle actually bound him and made him Prime, Niko intended to act like she had. And if he did, so would the rest of the Blades. Giselle was in for quite a surprise.

  She returned quickly, wearing jeans, hiking boots, and a fuzzy green pullover. Her hair was caught behind her head in a ponytail. She caught him examining her. “What?”

  “It always surprises me how . . . natural you are.”

  “Natural? I bathe every day, and it’s not like I let my armpit and leg hair grow wild,” she said with a scowl.

  “It was meant as a com
pliment.”

  “Oh. Where’s Niko?”

  “I sent him to find Oz and the angels.”

  “Did you, now? Making yourself at home as Prime?”

  “I am at home, and I am Prime. You just have to decide if you want to bind me to service.” His grin promised violence. “It will certainly make it harder for you if you do not.”

  Giselle came and stood close, looking up at him. Magic swirled in her eyes, and he felt it crackle through her body. He scowled. She was too much on edge and was losing control of her magic. She needed protecting from herself.

  “You’ll be Prime when and if I say you are and not before. Do you understand?”

  He bent so that his nose nearly touched hers. “Try and stop me.”

  Her magic flared, and she drove a fist into his stomach. The impact was nothing, but magic lanced through him, and he staggered back a step. Without thinking, he knocked her arm up. Shards of rock blasted from the ceiling, and a black scorch mark curled in a short arc before she pulled the magic back.

  Before she could react, he grabbed her and spun her around, holding her tightly against his chest. “Stop it before you hurt yourself. You are wasting your magic and your strength.”

  Magic sizzled across her skin and scorched his. He did not let go.

  She drew a breath and held it, her hands clenching tight. Finally, the magic sank back down inside her. She slumped. Tears trickled down her cheeks and dripped onto his blistered forearms.

  “You will never replace Max,” she muttered.

  Fury swept him, and he shoved her away before he snapped her neck. “You bitch. You weep for her now, but where was your concern when you sold her to Scooter? You have the power of foresight—where is she? Is she even alive?”

  Her chin trembled as she lifted it defiantly. “I did what what I had to do for Horngate. If I hadn’t, the covenstead would have been destroyed. You will not make me regret what I’ve done.”

  “Of course not. You do not have to pay the price. Max does. So why do you even bother with tears?” he demanded scathingly.

  She went still. “I miss her more than you can imagine.”

  “Is she alive?” he asked, fear clutching his throat so the words barely escaped. “What have you foreseen?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I see nothing of her. I don’t know if it’s all the magic the Guardians unleashed or if I no longer have the power to foresee. But she’s alive. Her bindings are still intact.”

  His stomach lurched, and the bitter taste of bile flooded his mouth. Alexander swung around, not wanting the witch to see his reaction. Not dead. That still left a lot of room for her being hurt, but she was alive. He drew a painful breath, clawing at his Blade to settle. Finally, he faced her again and motioned for the door, his expression cool. “The others are waiting,” he said. “We should go.”

  She eyed him and then nodded, going out ahead of him. It was a small gesture of trust, but enough. For now, they had a truce.

  MAX ATE ALMOST MORE THAN SHE COULD STAND. Scooter had sped her healing and left her to her gluttony while he went off to prepare, whatever that meant. When she’d stuffed herself on potatoes, roast beef, ribs, eggs and bacon, fruit, and cheesecake, she went to clean up. Scooter had provided her with all the comforts of home, including a shower of sorts. Just beyond her bedroom was a small cavern filled with white sand and a deep pool. Thick steam rose from it and dripped from the walls. Hot spring water ran through an opening high overhead at the far end.

  Practically waddling, Max stripped away the rags of her clothing and waded in. Steam closed around her so that she couldn’t see. She swam to the end and sat on a natural stone bench beneath the cascade of water. It massaged the tight muscles of her shoulders and back as it pounded over her skin.

  She sat mesmerized, feeling the thrumming pulse of the water on a level she never had before. She sank inside herself, giving herself over to all the sensations of her new awareness. There were so many. It was like her body was waking from a deep freeze. Sparks danced through her flesh and coursed through her blood. A different kind of heat sizzled along her bones like captured lightning. Magic limned every cell, and she could almost see the glow of it. The spells that tied her to Horngate and compelled her to protect and obey Giselle were green vines that snaked around her spine and wrapped her heart, lungs, liver, and kidneys in thick coils. She could feel them stretching away into the distance, where they anchored in Giselle’s brilliant electric energy.

  Deeper down, Max’s inner fortress rose black and stark. She reached out spectral fingers to touch it. She felt the touch intimately, like she was brushing against her own soul. The cold was so intense it burned. She didn’t pull away but let the sensation bleed through her until she could no longer feel the warmth of the water pouring over her. The chill soon turned to an ache and then grew into agony. Max let it go on, gathering the pain and pushing it back down into the fortress. When it became too much, she kept on. Her heart thundered and then slowed as she allowed the pain to consume her. Finally, she reached a point where it hurt so much she felt nothing. Her mind was clear, the edges sharp as shattered crystal.

  It wasn’t until then that she pulled away and rose out of her trance. The fortress was her protection. She hadn’t been sure it would still hold her pain, now that she knew she had to pass through it to get to the abyss. She stretched, joints cracking, the memory of pain pulsing softly in her flesh. She reached for the soap and shampoo cached in a niche behind the curtain of water. It was lightly scented with vanilla and oranges. She wrinkled her nose. The scent wasn’t overwhelming to her Shadowblade senses, but she preferred things unscented. Too bad Scooter disagreed.

  Once she was clean, she got out, dried herself, and dressed in a black short-sleeved T-shirt and black cargo pants. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in her trance, but she was positive that once Scooter was ready, he wasn’t going to wait long for her.

  She eyed the weapons on top of her dresser. There was a .45 ACP, a .9mm Glock, a couple of extra clips, and a silver witch chain. None of which were going to do her any good. She hadn’t managed to pull her clothes into the abyss. She’d be lucky if she made it to this Chadaré city with a pair of socks, much less any weapons.

  With a sigh, she flung herself onto her bed and closed her eyes. Hopefully she could catch a little sleep before Scooter came for her.

  Max slept hard but came instantly awake the moment Scooter entered her room.

  “It is time,” he said. “We must go quickly.”

  She sat up and swung her legs over the bed. Scooter’s face was taut, and she could hear his heart pounding. He wore only his buckskin pants and carried a gray bundle under one arm. Sweat glazed his skin, and a purplish blotch had appeared on the center of his forehead and another in the center of his chest. Each one was only the size of a plum, but the edges seemed to seep larger while Max watched.

  “What happened to you?”

  “I am dying,” he said simply, like he was telling her the time.

  Max gaped. “How?”

  “Later. First, we must get to Chadaré before I lose my strength.”

  Lose his strength? The fucker was a god. Or a demigod, Max wasn’t certain. It was close enough. What could take him down?

  She folded her arms. “I think we’ve got enough time for you to tell me just what the hell is going on. I’d like to know just how much trouble we’re about to be in. Give me the quick and dirty version.”

  His mouth pinched together, and then he nodded. “Very well. You know I am the child of Onniont the Horned Serpent and Nihansan the Spider Woman. I was born with many of the powers of both my parents. Long ago, I was betrayed by those I thought were friends. They blinded me and stole my heart, my horn, and my silk.” He touched the bruises on his forehead and chest. “They wanted all of me—every drop of my blood, my bones, my scales. I was able to escape Chadaré, and so I fled. They hunted me since and have grown impatient in recent years. They have begun to bleed
my heart to force me back here. They know I will return and fight. I must have all three back, or I will die.”

  “Wait a minute,” Max said, trying to take it all in. “You aren’t blind.”

  “I have enough power to see using magic. Soon I will not.”

  Holy shit. “And what did you mean that they are bleeding your heart?”

  “My blood still pumps through it, though it no longer beats in my chest. Cut it, and I bleed to death. They must want me a great deal to risk destroying my heart and the rest of me.”

  She reached out and touched the bruise on his chest. His skin was raging hot. “How long do you have?”

  “Not long. Returning to Chadaré will take all my strength. After that—days, maybe.”

  “Shit.” She’d not realized how much her delay to fetch her family had cost him. Guilt wreathed through her stomach, and her body clenched. “This is what you wanted me for? To go with you and help you get your parts back?”

  He nodded. “Those who have the ability to travel the abyss are few. But not only can you do it, you also are a strong warrior. I had hoped to find you much sooner. I would have had the power to fight at your side. No longer. If you cannot help me, I will die.”

  Max stared at him, chewing her lower lip. She owed him, and not just because Giselle had traded her to him. He had risked his own life to let her fetch her family, knowing she could die and leave him high and dry, and knowing he might not live long enough for her to return.

  “Well, then, we’d better get on it,” she said, standing up. “I guess this means you aren’t going to be able to haul any weapons through for me.”

  He shook his head. “It will be all I can do to cross the abyss. Once we arrive in the city of shadows, I will be blind. I won’t have any power at all. We’ll need to find shelter quickly if we’re going to survive.”