Hearts of Darkness (28 page)

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Authors: Kira Brady

BOOK: Hearts of Darkness
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Corbette sighed and put aside his cup. “We need her to close the Gate, should Norgard succeed in opening it.”
“But I don't know anything.” Kayla protested. She hadn't studied magic. She hadn't read any books, attended any lectures, passed any exams. They couldn't depend on her.
Yet this is what Desi had died for. What her mother and great-grandfather had died for. This was her legacy. She couldn't ignore it, even though it terrified her. She couldn't let them down.
“No time to train you,” Corbette said. “Trust your instincts. They don't seem to have failed you yet.” His eyes flicked to Hart.
Kayla blushed. She couldn't explain last night.
“She's not going in there,” Hart said. “She's staying in the safe house, or she's going back to Philly. That's non-negotiable.”
“Is she?” Corbette asked mildly.
“You said her blood's diluted. You can't use her. She's not Kivati—”
“Isn't she?”
Hart slammed his hands on the table. “She doesn't owe you nothing!”
“Get it through your thick skull, Wolf: this isn't about the Kivati or the humans or you or me. If we don't shut the Gate, there will be nowhere she can run, nowhere she can hide from what's coming. There will be no one and nothing left.”
Hart closed his mouth, but he didn't look happy about it.
“Hart.” Kayla took his hand. “I want to do this. I have to.”
He searched her face.
“Perhaps,” Corbette said, “she could use another guard to increase her chances of getting out alive.”
Sneaky bastard. He had Hart right where he wanted him. The same thought flashed over Hart's face—surprise, then resignation. Kayla wanted to tell him he didn't have to risk his life for her, but she knew it would be a waste of breath. His eyes said as much.
Corbette stood. “That's settled. You've one hour. I'll loan you a guest room where you can get some . . . rest.”
Kayla had so many questions, but for the first time in her life she didn't want to waste precious moments gathering information. One hour was hardly time to fit a lifetime worth of living, but it was all she had. She wanted to spend every one of those thirty-six hundred seconds with Hart.
He seemed to have the same idea. He put a protective arm around her, and led her into the opulent hallway.
 
 
The guest room was lavishly decorated with an antique four-poster bed and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking downtown Seattle and Puget Sound. The mountains in the distance were snow-topped and gorgeous, but she couldn't help imagining them exploding in lava and ash in a few short hours. She closed the curtains against the multimillion-dollar view, leaving the room in shadow. She needed the world to be small again, narrowing to touch and taste. Not the fate of the world, just her and her lover. Hearts beating in passion, not fear.
He came to her in the darkness. His hot hands rubbed up and down her arms, soothing and reassuring. She strained her eyes to see his handsome face. She wanted to burn it into her memory, a gift to take with her into the dangerous unknown. Would he still be alive tomorrow? Would she? Would they stop Norgard before it was too late? Would humans rest peaceful tonight, ignorant of the disaster that hung on a knife's edge? Until the next time some hell-bound lunatic tried to blast open the Gate.
“Shh,” Hart whispered in her ear. His breath on her sensitive neck sent shivers down her spine. He was so large and hot and deliciously male. She wished she could burrow into his strength and light, and take shelter from the coming storm.
“Don't think,” he said. “Stop that beautiful brain of yours for a minute or two. Give me a chance to get started.”
She couldn't help smiling.
“Yeah, I can feel that laugh,” he said. His hand caressed her breastbone. He probably felt the vibration along her chest. “Stay with me, babe. Tell me what you feel when I touch you here.” His fingers dipped beneath her shirt and found the pebble of her nipple.
“I feel . . .” She had to concentrate on what he was doing to put it into words. As a distraction, it worked. Her brain wasn't big enough to both worry and make sense of the sensations cascading through her.
“What?” His teeth nipped her earlobe.
“Oh . . . I feel
that
down my nerves, down my neck and—”
He moved his teeth lower, biting gently over her carotid artery. She shivered.
“I love that sound you make,” he said. “A little breathy moan in the back of your throat.” His right hand cupped her breast and massaged. His left got to work on the buttons of her shirt.
“That feels . . . nice,” she said.
“Nice? That's it?”
“
Very
nice.”
“I can do better.” He opened her shirt and replaced his hand with his mouth. His tongue and teeth laved her nipple. The sensations quickly overwhelmed her ability to form words.
She wrapped her hands in his hair and held on tight. Her lack of sight in the almost-dark served to heighten her other senses. His smell—musk and pine—shot north to her brain. His touch—calloused and hotter than hell—shot straight south.
Last night their lovemaking had been rushed. A race to the finish before the madness claimed him. A conflagration, burning all at once. This time they went slow, not because they had more time—they had less—but because they didn't want to miss a second of the time they had. Every caress was like the first time and the last. Every inch of body and soul was savored to make it stretch an eternity.
Time stopped.
Hart carried her to the soft feather mattress and carefully laid her down. “A real bed this time. Should have been like this—”
“No.” She covered his mouth with her fingers. “It was perfect.”
He took her fingers between his lips and sucked on the sensitive tips. Desire pooled low in her belly. She helped strip him of his clothes until they were skin to skin. His hard length burned against her hip. He kissed his way down her torso, stopping along the way to suckle and lick, and made his way between her thighs. His hot breath tickled.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered. He dragged her uncertain hands to cover her breasts and showed her how to rub and pinch the alert tips. His head returned to her core. He lifted and spread her thighs for his perusal.
She tried to think of words to describe it, but she could only moan. Oh!
There
, and
Yes
,
more!
She closed her eyes and lost herself. In her Other vision, Hart's body flared with light. Electric currents pulsed through his limbs and spine, shooting toward the place where his mouth suckled her. It was almost as if his light were feeding into her. It built higher and brighter, matching her body stroke for stroke. She reached the top like a firecracker.
He held her gently as she came back down.
“Is it always like this?” she asked.
“No.”
He filled her with one solid stroke. She didn't think she could take any more, but somehow she did. He restoked the fire. Could Hart see how brightly their soul lights blazed? Like a beacon searing the shadows from the room.
“I love you,” Kayla said, when at last they lay still in each other's arms.
Hart's eyebrows shot up and his lips parted. “I—”
The door flew open. The sudden light blinded Kayla, but she sensed two figures quickly turn their backs to the room. They didn't, unfortunately, leave.
Hart gave her a wry grin, but didn't move. His body blocked her nudity from the intruders.
Kai stopped in the doorway. “Get the fuck up,” he ordered.
“I was up,” Hart said. “You should try it sometime, dickwad.”
“We're leaving immediately—”
“Why? Corbette said we had an hour—”
“Something's come up.”
“Not my problem.”
Kai drew his gun. Hart's back was to the weapon, so he couldn't see it, but he must have noticed Kayla stiffen beneath him.
“That's going to do you a lot of good,” Hart said, “considering you need us alive.”
“Don't try me, werewolf. Norgard has taken a hostage for his sacrifice.”
Kayla felt her stomach drop. “Who?”
“Lady Lucia.”
“Shit,” Hart muttered, pushing himself up. “Smart move on his part. Don't know why we didn't think of it. Poor kid.”
Kayla swallowed. “What's he going to do to her?”
“Nothing,” Kai growled, “if we get there in time.”
“How'd he snatch her?” Hart asked. “Your people sleeping on the job?”
“Ambush. Killed one bodyguard, the other is missing. We found her sailboat scuttled in the Montlake Cut.”
Hart kissed Kayla's ear. “I can see you wanting to feel guilty for this one too, but she isn't like your sister. She had trained warriors guarding her. Not your fault.”
He knew her too well. Saw her faults and weaknesses, understood her need to help and heal. She felt a burden lift from her chest. She couldn't change what had happened, but she could put all her energy into moving forward with his help.
Kai left clean clothes—Kivati battle gear—and gave them privacy to dress, with the order to “hurry the fuck up.”
Kayla's hands shook as she pulled on the black leather pants.
“Leather is tougher for knives and claws to get through,” Hart said, when she asked why she had to wear so much black leather. She felt like a wannabe vampire.
The leather corset was a little too tight. It covered a black, long-sleeved cotton blouse that laced up over her breasts. Iron-studded leather arm sheaths protected her from elbow to wrist. The steel-toed combat boots were made for stomping. She could break someone's kneecap with these suckers. She hoped she never got close enough to the enemy to test that theory.
Hart's outfit had a similar leather-bound theme, though his pants were looser and his boots bigger.
“Hasn't someone invented stronger material than leather for battle?” she asked. “Kevlar or something? Military grade.”
“Synthetics don't hold up to the spirit world. Only materials that have once been alive work: linen, cotton, hemp, hide, leather. Natural fibers have residual Aether energy, like a memory of having life. It's a small additional barrier to demons and spirits. 'Sides, plastics and other crap just fall apart close to the Gate.”
“But plastic is in everything these days. If the Gate opens, what will happen to skyscrapers, computers, modern technology in general?”
“Babe, if the Gate opens we'll have much bigger problems.”
Kai returned to bring them to the armory.
“I don't know how to use anything here,” Kayla protested. “I'd be more likely to shoot myself on accident.”
“I'll be with you the whole time,” Hart promised. “But you have to carry something just in case.” He picked out a short knife and matching scabbard that had protective runes carved in the weathered hide. Lacing a belt through the scabbard, he strapped it around her waist.
He picked enough weapons for himself to outfit a small militia. Knives in each boot and strapped to each arm bracer. Silver throwing stars at his wrists. A long sword and an ax—well suited for beheading a dragon—crossed over his back. Guns too. Like Kai, he wore a bandoleer over his chest to hold ammunition.
Kayla didn't want to think of him having to use all that stuff. He was armored and lethal, but she'd seen beneath his hard exterior. He wasn't a killer, no matter what he said. He had a choice.
“I choose to protect you,” he said gruffly, “I don't give a rat's ass for those other dumb fucks.”
How sweet.
Chapter 18
Hart settled weapons against his body. The familiar weight was comforting. He couldn't waste energy thinking about Kayla being in danger. Her scent—following delicately behind him—was comforting too, but it also sent fear coursing through him whenever he thought of her going into battle. All his training had led up to this moment. He was one bad motherfucker with a weapon in his hand. Nothing would get past him to touch her. Nothing.
They followed Kai to the weapon field at the front of the mansion, where Corbette waited. Corbette looked like someone had run over his dog. His face was dark as the thunderclouds above and his knuckles so tight on his cane they looked like bone. His left foot tapped with restless energy.
Hart tilted his head and studied the man. He'd never thought of the Raven Lord as a real person, with hopes and personal dreams, emotions even, before this. Corbette was legendary for his ruthlessness and self-control. He lived to protect his people, but he'd failed to protect the little princess. Was that the only maggot eating his conscience? Or did he have deeper feelings for the girl?
Corbette was supposed to marry the kid, but only to fulfill the Spider's prophecy. Only to combine two strong bloodlines and create the next generation of iron-willed rulers. Convenience, not love. Right?
Hart wasn't so sure about that anymore.
Corbette noticed them finally. His violet eyes pulsed with the killing edge.
“Why Lucia?” Kayla asked. “Why not any Kivati off the street? What's he going to do to her?”
“There's a prophecy about her,” Hart said. “She's supposed to be the Kivati's ‘salvation.' Norgard would like that, twisting her role so she's their destruction instead.”
“He's all about the grand gestures, isn't he?” Kayla asked.
Hart nodded. “If you're gonna do something, go all out. Balls to the wall.”
“What's the prophecy say?” Kayla asked.
Corbette stared at the ground. “In an age of Darkness, the Crane will bring a great light. The people who lived in the land of the shadow of death will rise up, and the Harbinger will lead them. Cast off your shackles, oh Changers! See, oh you blind ones! Follow the Crane to destiny, for behind her lies ruin.”
Hart paused with “What the fuck?” sitting on his tongue, but he kept his yap shut. He must be learning. Corbette was not receptive to smart-ass questions.
“Destiny,” Kayla asked, “like the Tablets of Destiny? You're saying her prophecy and the Drekar's Tiamat legend are connected?”
Corbette and Kai both stared at her.
“No?” Kayla seemed uncertain.
Hart grinned and said to Corbette, “Now who's a stupid half-blood, huh? Never thought of that, did you?” Nope, he couldn't keep his yap shut apparently.
“No,” Corbette said slowly, “never thought of that.”
Kai swore.
“What's he going to do to her?” Kayla asked.
Corbette stiffened. Ignoring her, he spun on his booted heel and began snapping out orders left and right. Kai followed. Apparently it was time to move out.
“Norgard will rape her, won't he?” Kayla asked quietly. “He needs a virgin sacrifice.”
Hart put his arm around her and drew her close. He couldn't stand the horror in her eyes. Would confirming the truth make her feel better or worse? He rubbed her arms, wishing he could take away some of the pain.
In the center of the field, Corbette raised his hands for a moment of silence. All the warriors bowed their heads.
The Kivati Spirit Seeker stepped onto the porch. She held a white feather in one hand and a fistful of earth in the other. She spread her arms wide to encompass the army and prayed. “May the Lady lift our wings today. Grant us the strength to overcome this great evil, and the courage to pass into the world beyond should we fall. May She hold us in Her heart whatever path lies before us.”
Hart had never paid much attention to the Lady, except to curse Her name. She'd marked him as a Changeling, after all, and cast him out. Damned him to the moon madness and forced him to fight for his survival. For the first time he listened to the words of the prayer and it didn't rub him the wrong way. Perhaps She had set him on a different path, but not a damned one. He'd met Kayla, hadn't he? He'd learned to fight better than most of these Kivati solders. Maybe he'd be able to keep her safe, with the Lady's help.
A third of the Kivati force Changed and took to the sky. The rest piled into steam-powered jeeps. Kayla and Hart rode with Kai, Corbette, and another soldier. They drove northwest from Queen Anne to Ballard, over the Aurora Bridge and along the Ship Canal. The sky was eerily quiet. No rain. No wind even. The clouds hung low, pregnant with tension. Trees bent away from the sky as if frightened of the coming storm. Humans could feel it too. Few braved the open streets. Even the lifeless buildings seemed to hold their breath.
The Kivati who had remained human let their consciousness soar across the Aether into their black-feathered spies. Their eyes filmed white. A murder of crows took to the air until the sky was black with them. There was no hope in pulling off another surprise attack. Corbette was simply going to flood the Drekar lair with soldiers, like the beaches of Normandy.
The Locks still smoldered; a thick column of smoke rose into the air, joining the dirty cotton clouds stretching across the sky. The fresh water in Lake Union and the Ship Canal, without the Locks to hold it back, had dropped by a good four feet, bleeding into the sea and exposing yards of slimy green lake bottom. The closest boats to the shore in Fisherman's Terminal were grounded; they floundered like beached whales on the mossy rocks.
Next to Hart, Kai's eyelids fluttered as he connected his mind to a crow. “Jace is in position,” he told Corbette. “Theo waits for your signal to launch.”
“And Rudrick?”
“Still no word.”
Corbette gripped the head of his cane, which Hart realized was his tell. The Raven Lord was considering an attack without one of his top sentinels. Rudrick was probably lying dead in a gutter somewhere, an early casualty of Norgard's grand plans. Nothing else could keep a Kivati sentinel from the coming battle. One more reason to hate Norgard. For what Rudrick had done to Kayla, Hart wanted to kill the bastard himself.
“Give the launch order,” Corbette said. “We go in firing. Take no prisoners—”
“But what about the other women?” Kayla protested. “I wasn't the only one Norgard kidnapped—”
“They chose their path.”
Kayla looked like she wanted to argue more, but Hart quieted her with a quick kiss. Old Ironsides there wasn't going to change his strategy, and Kayla needed to be in control of her emotions if she had a prayer of using her gift. He still thought this idea was crazy. She wasn't trained in blood magic. She didn't know anything about her power. Though he had to admit, she'd used it pretty good last night.
That thought had him adjusting his leather pants. He hated this getup. Didn't allow his boys to breathe. It had gotten to the point that the mere thought of this woman sitting next to him made his dick sit up and take notice. Forget the alluring smell of her. Forget the feel of her small, soft hand clinging tightly to his.
The coming battle should act like a bucket of cold water, but the adrenaline pumping through his system had always had the opposite effect on him. He wanted to grab her hips, lift her onto his lap, and thrust into her for one last good-bye.
Lady be damned.
Loki's Chocolate Factory came into view at the top of the hill. No time to indulge that carnal daydream; the attack began. Crows filled the sky with premature night.
This was his last chance. “Kayla, I . . .” He cleared his throat. “I . . . hell.” He couldn't do it. “I don't want to jinx you. Just . . . just stick close.”
“Like glue,” she promised.
Rockets exploded from the Sound side into the cliff face, sending up a shower of dirt and sparks. The ground shook. Thunderbirds dove from high above, the undersides of their giant wings reflecting the rocket's orange glow. Jace—his Thunderbird form recognizable by his sheer size and the red tips of his wings—disappeared with six others behind the now smoldering building. The plan was for them to fly in through the windows Theo had blasted open and enter the Drekar Great Hall.
Other Thunderbirds covered the exodus from the jeeps, which screeched to a halt in front of the building. The invading force poured out of the vehicles, Changing mid-leap. Fur and claw ripped from human bodies. The Change started at the extended arms and rippled down the torso and legs. Tails grew last. Men left the jeeps on two feet and landed on four paws.
The beast army didn't stop. It stormed the factory doors before the Drekar knew what hit them. Some dragons escaped to jump into the sky and grapple with the Thunderbirds hundreds of feet above the ground. Wings of skin met wings of feather, both beating rapidly against the cold salt air. Scales and feathers rained down upon the predators below. The Thunderbirds called thunderbolts from the sky and hurled them at their enemies. The dragons spewed fire in response.
Elinor—in Cougar form—bit a chunk out of a Dreki's thigh, causing the creature to stumble. She was a runt, but her claws were sharp. No soulless lizard could match her in ferocity.
The Raven Lord hadn't Changed. He stood facing the ocean with his arms extended. Kai hovered over him in Thunderbird form, protecting his back. Corbette called on the power of his people. The earth trembled. The wind blew in from the north, shaking the trees. Waves crashed against the base of the cliff, forming hands of water that grasped and clawed at the lair from below.
Hart didn't Change either, though the Wolf inside him tore at its tether. His swords unsheathed, he protected Kayla with his body and waited for Corbette to give the word to enter the lair.
 
 
In the Drekar Great Hall, Sven Norgard lounged in his throne made of gold and bone. A killing mood throbbed in his temples. He dreadfully missed the days when he could fly over Europe and burn everything in his path. This civilized pretense was a bore. He couldn't wait until Kingu broke free and took the earth back from these wretched sheep. In his daydreams, he slaughtered them one by one, until only those with beautiful burning souls were left.
Like Desiree. She had been a breath of fresh air in his stifled existence. Her smile was infectious and without artifice. Truly, she hadn't seemed to care about his treasure or political power. He remembered the first time he saw her. A day of sun breaks, when the mountain was out and the air tingled with the call to fly. She was buying strawberries at Pike Place Market. Her yellow frock, so innocent and pure, set off her tanned skin beautifully. He was attracted to the brightness of her soul, of course, but as he drew closer it was her eyes that captivated him. Caramel and set too far apart, they took in the world with almost childlike wonder.
Later, after he'd seduced her and she lay naked, twisted among his gold thread sheets and jeweled belongings, it was the sound of her voice that had called him. It was light and lulling, like a lyre played by Freya's hand, and he had been content to let it wash over him. To warm himself in it, lazily, like a dragon basking in the sun.
He should have thrown her out like he had with others, but she had seemed . . . special, somehow. A diamond among pearls.
Desi's sister was a conniving bitch. He could almost admire her cunning, bashing him with that blasted wine bottle. He shouldn't have tried to romance her, but he'd been swept away having a bit of Desi back.
Tiamat smite her.
Norgard kneaded his temple. He needed to be patient. Couldn't lose his wits to this burning anger. His plans had led up to this moment. He was so close, but the threads of his machinations were quickly slipping through his grasp.
Thorsson rushed into the Hall moments before an explosion shook the windows. “Kivati!”
More rockets hit the cliff face and glass shattered. Thunderbirds swooped in through the broken frames, calling gale-force winds at their backs.
Thunderbirds in the middle of the day? What had happened to Corbette's strict hide-from-the-humans policy? The Kivati's actions had always been sadly repetitive. Dependable. Predictable. Small-scale retaliation on Drekar businesses or individuals. But this was a full frontal assault like a shootout at high noon. There would be no way to hide this atrocity. The humans could explain away a single overly large airborne bird as a plane or a mistake of the eye. The six that flew in his window, with most likely more on the way, were impossible to ignore.
What had changed?
His interest piqued at the new challenge, even as his stomach dropped. His people were unprepared for an annihilation attempt. Perhaps this was his destiny. Death was the only great adventure he had yet to try.
“Move, my liege!” Thorsson yelled. He unsheathed the broadsword at his back. His first swing clipped a Thunderbird neatly beneath the wing, crippling the creature so that it crashed to the ground.

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