Gwinn circled the weapons as if they were toxic, and they might as well have been. She had no idea where they came from, but it wasn’t the swamp. They were not wet, and there was no mark of time on them. In fact, they both looked as if they belonged in some royal museum. She couldn’t name the curved metal if she wanted to, but she could see her reflection within it. The hilts were vastly different. The one without a sheath was made of jewels, which made little to no sense when it came to combat, it seemed more for show.
What was alarming about the showpiece was it too had blood on it, dried blood. A cold shiver ran down Gwinn’s spine as she stared at. A feeling full of sick grief engulfed her. Dark energy almost stole her very breath.
When Shade said her name, the spell broke. When she looked at him the grief faded, and relief set in.
“This weapon ended your life,” Gwinn said with certainty.
Shade pressed his lips together. He was doing his best to keep his cool, to hold on to anger to take action, but haunts flinging swords at him had taken him back a bit.
What didn’t help matters was he had flinched just before rage set in when he saw the weapon Gwinn was giving all her attention to.
He knew the weapon, but he didn’t know how he knew it. He knew both these weapons.
“You gave me life back,” he said honestly, looking at her. A wave of relief came over him for no real reason. It was a sudden realization, a small voice in his head saying, you found her.
Ignoring the oddities about, Gwinn soared her body toward him, wrapping her legs around his waist and taking his mouth with hers. It was a desperate kiss, one that she needed to tell her that this was reality. He was not a dream.
Shade’s kiss was just as fierce and commanding. His hands began to wander across her body, and he barely stopped himself from throwing her down and taking her there in the mud of the swamp, with the dead passing and the blood dripping from his sword.
Luckily, she had more control than he did. She bit his lip as she pulled away then slowly unhooked her legs and slid down his massive body.
After staring deeply into the swirling lavender of his eyes, she broke away and began her prowl around the weapons once more.
“This is a royal blade, for decoration,” she said nodding to the one that slayed him. “Only a king would carry such a thing.”
“A backstabbing king,” Shade growled.
“This is a warrior’s blade,” she said circling the one dripping with Mia’s blood. The blade was just barely curved. The handle was wrapped in leather, and every inch of it was covered in symbols. Ones Gwinn had never seen.
“It is spelled,” she looked up at him. “More than likely only its owner can wield its wrath.”
She reached to touch the sword and Shade’s hand shot out to halt her.
“I’m testing my theory, it should fall to a pool of nothing if I touch it and rise for you.”
“You’re wrong.”
Defensive anger began to well in Gwinn again. “Then by all means, let me prove you right,” she said jerking her arm free and touching the sword.
Nothing happened. Nothing beyond her feeling a surge of energy, pure power.
Feeling humbled and slighted, she let go and looked up at him, prepared to be mocked.
“You are me,” he said without ceremony. “It will work the same for the pair of us.”
Gwinn nearly grinned. Her man was hot and cold, and she’d be a liar if she claimed she wanted it any other way.
With a flick of her hand, his sword found its way into the sheath, then like a hand in a glove, the sword took its place on Shade’s back, fitting his frame as if it were a part of it.
As the straps of the sheath fastened across the front of his chest, Shade sighed. He’d never speak the emotion he experienced, but to him, it felt like a missing part of himself had been returned.
Another wave of Gwinn’s hand sent his murder weapon inside the home. She turned to walk then, not toward the bike but along the bank.
Again Shade lurched his hand for her, gripping her upper arm. “Bike’s that way.”
“I don’t need a bike.”
“The hell you don’t—we’re leaving.”
“No, we’re not.”
He leaned forward sharply, sure he’d heard her wrong.
“I’m following the spirits.”
“The hell you are.” He pulled his phone from her pocket, wondering why in the hell neither Rush nor Reveca had responded. He was searching for Talon’s number as he spoke. “We’re going home. And we’re going to tell them Mia was here and we’re going to figure this shit out.”
“No,” Gwinn said. With a flick of her hand, his phone jerked out from his hand and landed in the water.
“What the fuck, Gwinn!” Shade roared as a chill went down his spine. He’d have to swim through the ghosts to get it back, and he was not excited to face the ones who just had a phone thrown at them.
“I don’t think they’re really there. I think they’re tension—like water tension but instead spirit tension. They are in passage, and I want to know where they’re going.”
Shade had a pretty damn good idea, but he wasn’t going to feed her curiosity. He was too pissed to do so.
“We can go on your witch hunts later when dead men are at peace. We have to deal with this now.”
Gwinn stepped up to him. “You mean the dead man who claimed to be of your blood? Who has the same eyes as you—who called you a Voyager and gave you a piece of your past?”
“That’s the one.”
Gwinn all but snarled as she pushed against his chest with her palms. “You are all about loyalty and family. I get it. I don’t, but I do. What I do know is that in this life you have to protect yourself. I know you have to find your own center before you can help others. Riding back to the Boneyard and rousing everyone to search for Mia is doing nothing but feeding a fire.”
Shade searched her eyes. He knew her way of thinking came from being on her own for so long, moving from one foster home to another, never having anyone to count on as she grew up, but he also knew sometimes family helped you stay focused. Unity was a gift in every war.
“They need to know this.”
“Then they can know it tomorrow.”
“You want me to ride up to the Boneyard tomorrow and say ‘Oh, by the way, I saw Mia last night,’ in fucking passing? Like it’s not the biggest piece of intelligence we have?”
“It’s not. You want Mia. Fine. You have three witches at the Boneyard, four counting me. One of us surely can use this blood and whip up a locator spell for you. No harm, no foul.”
She shook her head as a million thoughts raced through her mind. She was protective of him, and rightly so. “People fear what they do not understand. What Mia called you is not something to be ignored. Not only that, he connected you to him—someone who crossed the Sons, a man they intended to murder. And then you appear later, a mystery living among them—do you not think they’re all going to be a bit curious about that?”
“I’ve earned my loyalty,” he spat.
“Maybe so. Still. These spirits led Mia here and they’re going somewhere. I’m going to find out. Then I’m going to conjure a spell that will carry me to the library undetected and read further on Voyagers and make sure your secret doesn’t need to stay as such.”
“You’re going home now,” he demanded, pulling her toward the bike. Just as they approached, both tires flattened.
Shade squeezed her arm but she didn’t flinch. She grinned. “Now you have an excuse for your delay in reporting in. Your phone was lost in the water; the terrain or nature, your choice, flattened the tires.”
She removed her arm from his grasp and began her trek up the swamp bank.
She had made it nearly a quarter mile before he appeared at her side then stood before her like a wall.
“Fix the bike,” he began. Gwinn started to argue, but he lifted his finger to stop her. “Fix the bike, we’ll go on your adventure. You h
ave until dawn.”
“This is what you call a compromise?”
Shade leered, his temper was barely under control, but if there was one thing Talon, Thames, and Judge had told him about witches, it was to not fuck with them. Thames even said tempers amuse them. Talon said giving in marginally would get further than you think. Judge’s comment was wry, ‘they like it hot and cold—but keep in mind, balance is their game, turn it down or up as needed.’
It was killing Shade, but he was trying to turn down the heat now. “I’ve already sent a text to Reveca and Rush. They haven’t arrived. Something has to be wrong.” He lifted his chin. “My family may very well need me and I have the answer but I’m with you, following this swamp.”
Gwinn thought to tell him if there was any real danger, Dagen, King, or one of their men would have shown up at her side as a guardian but then thought better of it. Shade didn’t like their unexplainable power and he sure as fuck didn’t like they could find her anywhere.
“I promise it’s not a selfish request. I’m protecting you. The dead. Adair.”
She received only a stiff nod in response.
In the distance, they heard the roar of the bike. Slowly, it crept up the path toward them.
Wordlessly, Shade sat astride the bike and waited for Gwinn to mount.
They crawled across the path watching the souls. The bike wasn’t built for the terrain by any means, but at times, it glided across the bank as if it were on air. Shade ignored the fact that it had. He was proud Gwinn was able to use her magic without strain, but at this point, it was all but freaking him out.
Hindsight told him it was more than likely his fault. She had said before when her energy was high, when she was well feed, the magic was no more than a thought, a will she had to have. Her cup runneth over, he had fed her tonight. And he was eager to do so again.
Miles and miles down the twisted bank, he stopped the bike. The souls were turning down a sharp bend in the swamp.
“What do we do now?” Gwinn asked.
“Do you know where we are?” he asked, his tone had lost its edge but impatience still lingered behind his words. He nodded to the souls. “This is the path Reveca takes to the Edge.”
“It can’t be that simple. Why would they pass your place to end up there? Why not just go there?”
Half shrug.
Gwinn moved her body and appeared on the other side of the bank. She heard Shade’s cuss in the distance but kept moving.
Before long, he was at her side. Deeper they went, crossing banks only Nature herself had touched.
Then they came upon a fork in the path. The souls, the images of them veered to the right. To the left, an essence of white, blue, and lavender energy skirted along with the current.
It was almost as if it had delivered its cargo and was now moving on its way.
Gwinn looked up at Shade in question. The entire time they had traveled, he seemed to know where they were going.
“The Edge is to the right,” he announced, answering her unspoken question.
“I want to go to the left,” Gwinn said, gripping his hand.
The pair of them crossed the wide water bank and continued their trek, chasing the magic in the water.
Miles deeper, Gwinn smelled salt in the air, a sense of familiarity struck her.
“I’ve been here,” she muttered, pulling him away from the water. At immortal speed, she moved through the thick brush and came out at a familiar spot.
“Son of a bitch,” Shade whispered under his breath as his memory brought him right back to the night he wished he never witnessed. Finley murdered, Adair bleeding to death, and Judge demanding Talley be put down.
“It never let me through before,” Gwinn said rushing back into the brush—in her mind it was a door that was about to swing shut on her once more.
She’d felt pulled in this direction every time Adair had brought her to the water. Something always stopped her. It could have been Mother Nature herself, a storm brewing for no reason, or an animal in her path. A few times it was Adair, her needing to leave before emotion struck her.
Shade bellowed her name as he followed her. Gwinn all but ran down the bank following the magic.
Not even a mile later, the magic stopped. The waterway had pooled into a large oval, looking more like a lake than any other body of water at the time.
There was a statue of a beautiful woman with wings in the middle of it, only the silhouette could be seen in the night sky.
The magic swirled in a wide circle around the statue then it rose as if it were a fountain alit with glowing lights. When it fell, it vanished deeper into the water, and seconds later, a wave of energy soared through the air.
Then all was silent.
Chapter Two
There’s only so much one soul could take across the span of one night, and Reveca was sure she had met her limit long before she left the Boneyard.
Facing Crass and realizing that fucking Tisk had managed to cause even more trouble dead was a tipping point. But it was one she thought she had under control.
She could handle the damage.
Delivering Chalice and Latour was as good as done. Judge would have his revenge and Talon would finally get to put down the disgusting mortal Latour was.
The plan would be simple, they’d have Latour show up with Chalice for the trade off and trap them all, including Akan’s shady ass.
Leaving Crass’ lair tonight—him forcing Reveca to prove Cashton was nothing more than a pet—that was the moment she was sure she felt herself start to break.
Karma is a wicked bitch. Sometimes it’s not what you do, but what you don’t do that bites you in the ass when you least expect it. Like now. And more times than not, you were sure your actions were justified when you committed any said infraction.
Reveca had taken Cashton with her to Crass’ with her originally because she didn’t really care if she won any barter. Also because she wanted to know if there was any recognition between Cashton and whomever she was after—for her sister had sent her after both. Beyond her spiteful thoughts there were good ones. Cashton being a trusted friend, someone who knew death well and had proved himself to be just as fierce as the other Sons, made him a logical choice.
The powers that be are always aware of vendettas. Evil or not. Cashton was put in a life or death situation. One that would have affected innumerable souls if his soul was slain.
To survive, she had to commit a personal sin, breaking her loyalty not once but twice this night. Worse yet, Cashton was forced to as well.
It was his cool head, his calm that brought them out of their doom unscathed. Even in retrospect, she would have never chosen to use the spell he had.
It embodied truth. You were allowed to mask your appearance to the one you spoke to, but your words must ring true...which begged the question how did Cashton say what he said?
“My queen. I will always serve at your side. Your power humbles me.”
At the time, she was sure he was just driving the point Crass needed to see, he was hers. But now, she was sure Cashton’s words were cryptic in their own way.
When he and King first started lingering around one another, she’d found peace and hope with the notion. Friends, or even men who hold loyalty, do not slay each other. But now, she was sure she did not like this friendship going on.
It was like Cashton, King, and Dagen all knew something she didn’t and it was pissing her off. It was bad enough Talon had kept secrets from her—big ones.
And now this.
Dagen boarding the ship, glancing to Cashton, the near unnoticeable nod Cashton gave him, then Dagen protecting her as the ship endured a fire hurricane was enough to confound Reveca to no end.
She couldn’t process it just then. Not only was she beyond her breaking point, the wind full of fire had stopped, and the waters had stilled. The sky was a deep orange with rays of lavender tracing through them.
They saw a shore in the distance. Carved i
n the face of the mountain was an impressive castle at least ten stories tall. Dramatic balconies dripped with glorious flowers Reveca had never once laid eyes on.
The air was pungent with power and royalty. Yet there wasn’t a soul in sight.
Reveca stood from the cocoon of Dagen’s arms and drew herself up flawlessly. The power he’d given her was brimming in her soul. In all truth, it was the only balance she had at the moment.
Reveca’s glance flicked from the distant shore to Rush, Steele, then Cashton, finding them all well, standing ready to fight with the men Dagen arrived with.
It was well deserved, but it still stung King had sent Dagen for this task. Then again, it almost seemed appropriate.
This lady of death was surely going to place Talon on the table for discussion, property that must be fought over, venomously. King didn’t deserve to hear the words, not after what she was sure he felt tonight.
“She pulled us all this way and then doesn’t invite us in,” Reveca said dismissively to whomever heard her.
At once, Dagen was at her right, his men flanked behind her. Cashton vanished into the crowd of them, as if they intended to hide him. Realizing something was about to go down, both Steele and Rush made their way to Reveca, Rush appearing at her left and Steele just behind her. They were so close their bodies were brushing against hers.
Their otherworldly senses on high alert, she could feel the tension in their presence.
The dead were not fond of wolves, and the feeling was mutual.
A heated wind swirled around the boat, daring to rock it just barely. Then, with a breath, she appeared before Reveca and her army.
Ambrosia, Lady of Death, keeper of souls who died saturated with obsession, was a breathtaking woman, which made Reveca hate her all the more.
She looked Reveca dead in the eye; their matched height was where the similarities ended.
Ambrosia was well endowed in the chest but her hips were narrow, much like her ass. Inwardly, Reveca was grinning for the whole world knew Talon was an ass man.
Her hair was thick, long, and red—a dark red that resembled a mix of blood and fire—and her skin was near ivory; Reveca had seen stone statutes with more color.