Drake of Tanith (Chosen Soul) (16 page)

He needed to think. He was angry, but the feel of her in his arms was like a salve on his unseen wounds. Her body was warm despite her Cainan heritage, and that warmth infused Drake, diluting the fury that had been rushing unchecked through his system. The trees no longer caught on fire as he flew by. There were no ashes in his wake, no burning trail left behind him. He felt his father’s influence slip….

“Raven,” he said, speaking her name in her ear as he sailed with her over the tree tops and headed toward the faint glow of Leger City beyond. “I’m taking you to the temple. Don’t fight me.” He closed his eyes and squeezed her tighter as he added, “You know I mean you no harm.”

She said nothing, of course; his hand still covered her mouth. He wasn’t taking any chances, at least not until they were on the ground.

In another few minutes, Drake recognized the thick wooden stakes of the gate of Leger City below them. They passed over unseen and Drake took them straight toward the center of town, where the temple of Magus stood as a silent, silver spire that rose a hundred feet into the air. It beckoned in the moonlight, glowing as if lit from within, which it technically was; the temple was ripe with magic, and magic had a light about it, whether good or bad.

They were nearly upon it when Raven began to shift in his arms. Beneath his death-like grip, her muscles lengthened, her skin flashed hot, and the strands of silky-fine hair brushing the sides of his face went from black to white in the course of seconds. She was changing forms, switching into her Abaddonian body as they flew over the dark city below.

Drake reacted quickly, shifting his hold on her now heavier form, but Raven was not without recourse of her own. He could do nothing about the wings that began to sprout from her back, putting strong distance and leverage between him and her. He couldn’t stop her wicked metal claws from finding purchase in the muscle of his forearm.

Drake gritted his teeth against the pain. He knew she wanted him to recoil – to drop her. She would easily catch herself.
Good thing
, he thought bitterly as the strength of her wings finally managed to put the distance between them that she’d no doubt been angling for. And Drake let her go.

Chapter Fifteen

At once, Raven’s massive wings flapped against the air. The sound was admittedly beautiful. She spun before Drake, maneuvering herself with an expertise that came with her devil blood.

Tri-colored eyes glared at him in the moonlight. Her fangs were bared. “I can smell his blood on you,” she hissed. “What did you do to him?” she demanded.

Drake’s heart hammered. He could see the worry in Raven’s eyes, and jealousy hot and hard ramrodded through his already burning core. “What did you expect, princess?” he asked, speaking the words through fangs of his own.

“
Mercy
, Drake” Raven yelled as her wings beat the air again to keep her aloft. “I expect someone of your abilities to show
mercy
! He was only trying to help me!”

Drake’s gaze narrowed. “He knew what he was doing.”

“No!” Raven insisted, and Drake felt a wave of cold wash over him. Her magic was slipping from her grip. “He did not! He had no idea who you are – who your
father
is!”

Drake hesitated then. He didn’t know what to say. She was right. And he also didn’t care.

Worst of all, his sudden silence was as good as a confession. Drake had left Adonides alive – but Raven wouldn’t believe so. Not for a second.

“You killed him!” she accused, just as he knew she would.

Drake’s fury rushed ahead of him. He wanted to scream, “Yes!” and let her think he’d done the deed. He wanted to be evil in that moment – to let his father win. Whatever it would take to give him the edge he required to win with Raven Grey. Because she was making him insane. And there was only so much more he could take.

The sound of a horn suddenly split the night, and all wicked, horrible thought fled from his mind. The horn was long and low and raised chills across his dark skin. It was an omen, a promise, an evil cry of deadly purpose.

Across from him, suspended in the air by her own glorious wings, Raven’s expression changed. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and the anger fled from her features. She instinctively knew. She’d never heard the horn before in her short life – but she knew. Maybe it was her Chosen soul and the many lives
it
had lived in the past. Or maybe it was the inherent wrongness of this particular horn and what it meant. Regardless, Raven’s expression now mirrored his own. She was terrified.

He had to get her out of there.

The horn blew again, and Raven tried to cover her ears. It wouldn’t work; he knew that. Nothing could withstand the sound of the Horned One’s warning cry.

The Hunt had begun. Lord Oberon and his hounds would take everything in their path, human and non-human alike. All who heard the horn would be faced with a terrible choice: either join the Hunt – or become its prey. As the son of Asmodeus, he possessed a touch of immunity that others wouldn’t have, but even he would fall to the power of the Hunt eventually.

As would Raven.

We’re already lost
, he thought. His only hope was to transport them somewhere. But he’d just killed three Rakshin and several of Malphas’s personal guard. He had the strength to open a portal but wasn’t certain he could direct it properly. Portal magic was finicky and wild. It was hard to control. There were a few gods who could do it unendingly without error, and a few magical items, such as a fragment from a unicorn’s horn, that could ensure proper transportation no matter what the state of their users – but Drake was neither a god, nor did he have any of these items on him.

Just as Drake was deciding it was worth the risk anyway, that anywhere would be better than here at that moment, Raven turned from him, raised her arms, and spoke a powerful word.

A beam of light shot from her outturned hands, and a portal began to swirl to life several feet away. Drake stared at the burgeoning portal in astonishment. He’d known that Raven was strong, but this was incredible. Perhaps her time in Eidolon had caused her magic to blossom. Opening a portal took a kind of magic very few possessed. The daughter of Malphas would certainly be able to do it, but he’d expected it to take her longer to learn.

Her instincts were incredible.
She
was incredible.

“Drake!” she called out, her expression now unsure. She knew what she as doing, deep down inside. But she was so new at this, she was uncertain of what it meant – of where the portal lead.

She gave him a questioning side-long glance, all anger now forgotten as the horn sounded once more below them and a new, far more deadly kind of fury began to open up inside of Drake. The Hunt was getting to him. He was Abaddonian royalty, but he was a living, breathing creature all the same. He had a flash of yearning, the desire to tear flesh from bone and feed until he was sated. But he shoved it away and rushed to Raven’s side.

“What’s happening?” she asked, her body shaking. Her fangs had pierced her bottom lip; a thin trickle of blood dripped over her chin. Hunger spiked through Drake and he shut his eyes tight against it as his arms once more came around Raven’s body.

“Think about where you want to go!” he told her firmly. “Direct the portal!”

The horn sounded a final time, and the long, lonesome sound was joined by the baying of massive, black hounds. Raven tensed in Drake’s arms.
No
, he thought. “Let it go, Raven.
Fight
it.” He squeezed her tight, jerking her against him to punctuate his words.

A low, growling sound came from deep within her throat. “I'm hungry,” she said, her words like sand paper.

“Think of where you want to go!” The portal would lead nowhere if she didn’t visualize a destination. He desperately needed her to concentrate – but The Hunt was seeping into her blood. And the smell of
her
blood was quickly having the same effect on him. His pulse was increasing at a rapid rate. His chest felt tight, his guts were twisting, and blood was rushing where it definitely did
not
need to rush just then. “Concentrate!” he bellowed, fighting to hear his own words over the baying of the hounds below.

“I don’t know!” Raven cried. Her eyes were shut tight against the change that was no doubt coming over her. “Anywhere! Nowhere! Just not here!”

The portal pulsed once and stopped growing, signaling that it was now ready to receive a passenger through its magic doorway.

Drake didn’t hesitate. “Go!” he yelled as he both released Raven and simultaneously shoved her toward the portal’s opening. Raven’s wings opened a touch more, instinctively catching at the wind to slow her, but Drake was relentless. He rushed forward, gave her one final push square in the back, and Raven’s lithe Abaddonian form was swallowed by the portal’s swirling magic.

Just as the last feathers on her wings disappeared, something slammed into Drake’s side. The hit came hard and fast and knocked the wind from his lungs. His vision went dark, his wings folded, and his form reverted to human. He could feel it all happening, but only vaguely. And then he felt the wind around him – moving too fast – before he felt nothing at all.

*****

Lord Darken listened to the fading sound of the hounds in the distance. They were moving away now; their dirty work done in the heart of these dark woods. He watched the last of the Hunter’s blue-white light as it was swallowed up by the trees, and then he looked down.

The Bounty Hunter’s handsome face was filled with a peace it didn’t show when he was conscious. Here, now, the infamous Drake of Tanith appeared as if he were sleeping.

Darken lowered himself to one knee and gently brushed the thick black hair from Drake’s forehead. Powerful Abaddonian blood smudged his temple and painted his right ear. Darken could smell it. He could smell anything. Even the woman Drake had previously been holding so closely.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” he whispered. And then he stood again and glanced up into the night sky at the spot where the portal had disappeared moments before.

The night spoke to him; crickets that chimed quietly and wind that gently rustled the leaves on the trees. With a final glance at the tall, dark man at his feet, the king of the seventh plane of Hell turned on his heel and left the forest clearing.

*****

Raven kept her eyes closed. The air around her felt strange; the sound was hollow, as if buffeted by cotton. Her fingers curled into a cold ground, devoid of dirt or vegetation. It felt almost like marble. Her breathing was ragged, and she could hear it shake as she tried to get her body back under control.

The madness was slipping now. It had come on her fast and hard, a cruel, sharp yearning to rip something apart with her teeth and claws. She’d wanted to feed. It wasn’t eating, not drinking – she’d wanted to sink her fangs into an innocent victim and drain him dry… just to do it. She’d wanted it
so badly
.

The sound of her each uneasy breath filled the strange silence around Raven. She straightened, coming to her knees, and opened her eyes. White mist coiled and churned around her, making no noise and offering no glimpse of what lay beyond them. There was no sound other than what she made herself.

Very slowly, Raven got to her feet and turned in a careful circle. She’d reverted to her human form somewhere in the portal. For the briefest of moments, she considered changing again just for the added strength it gave her.

But the mists moved slowly and calmly and though Raven expected monsters to part their white fingers and step into view, nothing appeared in the grayness. Nothing moved nor made a sound.

“I’m curious as to what it is you would consider a monster, Raven,” came a soft voice from behind her.

Raven spun. At once, her magic rushed to her fingertips and her eyes cast a supernatural light. She was somewhat drained, but what power remained after calling up a portal now hummed at her nerve endings, ready to be released.

A man stood before her, young and blonde. His hair was cut short, he was clean shaven, and his clothes were unremarkable. But there was something odd about his brown eyes. Raven couldn’t quite place it. They seemed intelligent beyond their years, and his stance was one of such utter ease and confidence, it temporarily threw Raven.

“Who are you?” she asked. As she did, she prepared to strike. After all she’d been through of late, she was beginning to believe it was better to use magic first and ask questions later.

The man smiled a friendly, genuinely amused smile. “The god of magic attacked with magic – I think this could be fun,” he said. His eyes shifted suddenly, going from brown to blue and back again.

Raven blinked. Before she knew what she was doing, she said, “You’re Magus.”

“You got it in one,” he said, his smile beaming.

Raven felt dizzy just then. Her head swam with question after question. Magus took a deep breath, clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace around the white-gray misty nothingness. His suede boots made no sound on the marble-like ground. “Let me help,” he said. “You’re in the Witherlands. You haven’t been attacked by anything wicked from your subconscious yet because of the miraculous little circlet the elven princess bequeathed you.” He looked up and nodded briefly at Raven’s head.

She reached up to touch the intricate band Zeta had given her, and the blonde man who was actually the most magically powerful god in the realms went on. “I’m here because Tanith was right. I owe him a boon.” He stopped here and turned toward Raven to cross his arms over his chest. “Quite a large one actually,” he said. “And the moment he spoke my name, I began watching the two of you.”

He smiled again, and his brown eyes now flashed to green, glittered in some unseen light source, and then reverted to their soul-deep brown. He turned away from her to glance at the gray swirling fog. “You really must learn to control your magic,” he chided softly. “You show great potential – it isn’t everyone who can call up a portal to transport through the realms – but your indecisiveness and your desire to go ‘anywhere, nowhere’ landed you here.” He gestured to the world around them. Then he shook his head reprimandingly even while his eyes continued to tease her, and his expression was friendly. Raven found herself fascinated by him. He had a charisma that was as elusive as the mists around them, but as strong as a god’s.