Chapter 11

CHAPTER11

For the first time in the Shadow Realm, I walk through the shroud of mist feeling at ease. The streets are still quiet, the details in the darkness concealed by fog. The crawlers still scuttle behind shrubs and peer around buildings, their shattered minds whispering to me. We see a few souls who stand and watch us pass. Their voices come alive in my head, if I let them. I see images of their former lives. Werewolves running through forests, witches picking herbs or collecting feathers. Even an apothecary, distilling poisons and potions in her light-filled laboratory. And some speak to me. Leucosia of Anthemoessa, they say. Bright soul. Queen of the Shadow Realm.

You would think it’s strange. Maybe it should be. But it makes me feel more comfortable here. Hearing their voices is like walking through the streets of the House of Virtues in the Realm of Light, where children play tag and dogs steal popcorn and people wave their greetings of welcome. Maybe here it’s a little less…cheery…and has more of a Nightmare Before Christmas vibe, but I sense these souls are relieved to see me, even if they still suffer.

I intend to fix that.

And it seems Ashen might already have a head start on me.

“Where are the carriages?” I ask, looking around us as I strain to listen for their wheels lumbering down the road.

Ashen’s fingers tighten around mine as he glances down at me. His eyes are still ringed with red light, the flame within them black as the night sky. His wings flow behind us like a wraith. “Parked.”

“Parked. Parked where? The underground carriage garage?”

Ashen gives me the weakest, weariest smile. “Near House Mushussu.”

“Would that be your doing?”

Ashen shrugs. “Technically yours. I was just ensuring your wishes were followed.”

“And the souls? Won’t the hyenas eat them?”

Ashen raises our interlaced fingers to his lips and kisses my fingertips. “No, vampire. They have been rounded up. The souls are safe.”

“Well, I’m sorry I missed that. I’m sure it was fun trying to corral a bunch of decaying demon hyenas,” I say, relishing the feeling of Ashen’s gentle smile against my skin before he lowers my hand. “Anything else I missed? Is Urtur okay? I heard him howl and whine when we were attacked.”

Ashen’s palm grows hotter against mine. “He was injured but he is fine. I can’t say the same for your statue, however. A Nephilim broke it as they fought.”

“Oh Christ. I’m so sorry, Ashen. It was truly an incredible piece of art. So beautiful.” I squeeze Ashen’s hand and try to calm my emotion, knowing he can sense the swirl of sadness and anger through the bond we share. “Did you strip the bastard of his spine?”

“Unfortunately not. The Nephilim managed to flee. The Shub Lugal nearly caught up with them, but they escaped through a corridor and closed it behind them. I’ve shut all the remaining portals and positioned guards at each one. No traveling without permission. Any Reapers in the Living Realm will have to wait there until we can eradicate the threat.”

I take a deep breath, feeling a little lighter with that news. “We should establish a rotation of accessible portals and try and bring the Reapers home. Maybe Ediye can help to create a way they can communicate with us in case there’s an emergency. I wouldn’t put it past the Nephilim to launch another attack and I’d rather have a way for us to know in advance.”

“Consider it done. I will handle it tomorrow,” Ashen says, and we fall into thoughtful silence for a long moment as we walk. The whole ticking rings experience in the cavern has me desperate for a restful sleep, which will be easier knowing I hopefully won’t be attacked in the night again, at least for one night. Though in the Shadow Realm, there are never any guarantees.

“Any ideas how they got in?” I ask when I can muster the energy to speak again.

“Yes, actually,” Ashen says, his voice dropping an octave. “The demon who I was…working on…when you arrived. He took over from Ember when she was killed, pushing forward whatever her ultimate plan was. Zida tracked him in the Living Realm and brought him back. He has refused to give up his secrets despite the torture, however. It seems the others he was with knew very little of the plan.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m back in that case. I can try wrenching it out of his mind.”

Ashen slows to a stop, pulling me with him. He turns to face me. The warmth of his eyes traverses the angles of my cheeks and jaw. His gaze rests on my lips for a long moment before connecting to mine once more. “I am not sure that would be such a good idea,” he says as he sweeps locks of grimy hair from my shoulder. “His name is Joash. He is Hakan’s brother. The demon you killed on Anthemoessa.”

I blow out a long sigh through pursed lips. “Well. That might be a little awkward. I probably owe him an apology before I steal his secrets.”

“You owe him nothing,” Ashen growls, gripping my shoulder with burning fingers. The leathery skin of his wings crackles as threads of sparks snap and pop between the scales.

“Joash’s awful deed doesn’t absolve me of my mistakes, Ashen.”

He blinks at me like I’ve just grown a second head. His shoulders fall a fraction. He bows his head for a breath and then pulls me into a tight embrace. “My Lu. I missed your light more than you could ever know.”

“You do realize I still would have killed Hakan if he was the one at fault. And I would have killed your sister if I’d known it was her.”

“It would have been justice.”

I pull away enough to look into the softening features of Ashen’s haunted beauty. “Would it? Aglaope was up to something when she was working with Davina to kill and harvest a demigod. As much as I hate to admit it, and I really do hate it, she might have been courting the consequences that ended up killing her.”

Ashen places a lingering kiss to my cheekbone, my eyelashes fluttering across his lips as I close my eyes and relish his warmth. “I doubt my sister reaped yours to uphold the rules of gods or realms,” he whispers against my skin. “Her interests never reached much further than her own benefit.”

I sink back into Ashen’s embrace, thinking about Aglaope and the flash of my vision of her confrontation with Ember on Anthemoessa. The scent of Ashen’s skin twists the hunger in my belly, and I start releasing my grip from his waist just as I hear a familiar yipping bark. The click of nails on the surface of the road pulls my attention toward a pair of amber eyes bounding toward us through the mist.

“Urtur!” I throw my arms open wide and the giant jackal bowls into me, his whole body wriggling as his black tail fans the fog behind him. He whines and licks my face with excitement until I push him away enough to wrap my arms around his neck.

“I think I’ve been usurped as his favorite,” Ashen grumbles behind me.

“That’s because you don’t like his snoring, whereas I find it adorable,” I say, grabbing the jackal’s jowls as he pants his sulfurous breath into my face. “Right, Urtur? I want to give you a gigantic dog bed, but the Reaper wants you to sleep outside. He’s so mean. I know you’re the best boy and you deserve a big fluffy bed.”

“Just you wait until he pisses on the sheets. You’ll think differently then,” Ashen says. He tries to sound serious, but I can still hear the amusement in his voice.

“He wouldn’t,” I reply with mock horror as I cast a smile at Ashen over my shoulder. I’ll never tire of the way he looks at me in moments like this. It closes my lungs around the air in my chest. My heart burns with longing and the depth of the love I feel from him, pulling at the edges of my mated mark. This is my family. Ashen. Ediye and Cole and Eryx, Urtur and Zida. Maybe even Davina one day. And maybe Cyrus is right. Maybe I am home.

“Come on, vampire,” Ashen says, holding out a hand out for me to take. “Let’s get you and your dog some rest.”

I take Ashen’s hand and we walk the streets with Urtur loping ahead, lighting the way with his amber eyes. I don’t know where we’re going, but I’m happy to stroll along with a bag of blood and my hand encased in the Reaper’s warm grip.

With a few turns, we arrive at a silver stone archway, the words Ekallim Ukkin carved into the gentle curve that rises above the road. Palace of the Council. Ashen doesn’t like this place, I can tell that much not just from the mark that joins us, but from the tension of his shoulders and spine as he lets go of my hand to push open the gate that’s guarded by a pair of soldiers. But I still feel a touch of relief from him too. This place is safe, even though he hates it.

I can see why.

The palace is a wide, garish structure. Rows of carved columns display demons conquering werewolves and witches and vampires. A sea of suffering humans is hewn into the stone facade below the line of the veranda. There’s gold and gargoyles and scrolling script celebrating the wisdom of the Council and the leadership of Eshkar and Imogen. It’s more than excess…

“It’s fucking hideous,” I say as we ascend the steps toward a fortified gold door.

“Keep your expectations low, vampire,” Ashen says as he pushes it open. No surprise, it’s even worse on the inside. There are more columns, and paintings, and ornate furniture and historical relics pillaged from the Living Realm over centuries of time. We don’t linger to take it all in. We pass through the foyer of ugliness and head toward the far side of the building, taking a long corridor before arriving at a closed mahogany door.

Ashen’s wings sweep across the wall as he stands aside to let me pass into a simple, elegant living suite. I already know he’s put his mark here. I can smell the fresh coat of paint that’s covered the walls, most in a warm shade of white aside from an accent wall of rich gray where a fireplace stands beneath a marble mantle. There are no paintings on the walls and only simple furniture that’s too small for the wide room and high ceilings, but it feels like a relief from the rest of the palace.

“It’s not permanent. We can fix the old house by the sea, if you still want to. But I think there is one thing you will like,” Ashen says. He takes my hand and leads us through the room and out a set of French doors that open to a stone patio fringed with lit candles. In the center is a circular, steaming pool several meters wide. A row of glass bottles of different sizes sits on a brass tray next to a bottle of wine and two glasses. Plush black towels and robes lie on a low ebony table. The scent of warm sandalwood drifts on the vapors of mist that curl above the milky surface.

“What in the hell is that gloriousness?” I ask, pointing to the pool.

“Credit goes to Ediye. She portalled here to set it up as we walked over.”

I drift over to the bottle of wine and pick up a folded white card, reading Ediye’s familiar, flowing cursive. You stink. Get clean, sex fiend. And no Little Mermaid lyrics. Love you, E. I snort a little laugh and walk to the edge, dipping my dirty toe into the water. It feels like heaven. I tilt my head back and give the deepest sigh I think I’ve ever made. “I love you both. With all my heart.”

I smile across the curls of scented steam at my Reaper. He watches as I strip off my torn shirt, his desire fanning the midnight flame that coils in his eyes. I descend the stairs into the pool, keeping my gaze locked to his until the water reaches my shoulders, and then I close my eyes and duck my head beneath the milky ripples. The grit of the last days lifts from my skin and melts away.

When I surface, Ashen is already stripped of his minimal, blood-soaked clothes. He walks slowly to the steps, letting me take in every inch of his body, muscled like a warrior and decorated with the black tattoos that flow across his chest and shoulders and up the sides of his neck. His mark shines among them, the gold mace catching the candlelight.

Sparks hiss and die in the ripples shrouded by the smoke behind him as he enters the pool. His snakeskin wings fan across the surface, floating in his wake like a shimmering cloak.

“They’re beautiful,” I whisper, reaching out when he draws close to touch the glittering light between the scales that glows even under water. The fire dims where my fingers trace the curves of the soft, laminated skin. Ashen closes his eyes as though my touch soothes something painful. “They hurt?”

“Yes. They burn. But it’s a pain that becomes addictive.” Ashen’s eyes are still closed as I trace another line of light and a deep breath fills his lungs. “I fell so far into darkness that it was the only thing I wanted to feel. Fury kept me from madness. It gave me purpose as much as it gave me pain. Your touch reminds me that there are better things than rage.”

“You didn’t need my touch to remember that,” I say, watching as another curve of light dims beneath my fingertips.

Ashen’s hand lays on my face and I look into his eyes, the red rings fading around the lapping black flame. “Yes, vampire. I did. I do and I always will.” Ashen’s other palm rises to my cheek, and he frames my melancholic smile between his hands. “I am still a demon. Rage and destruction are in my nature. And when you were taken, the shadow it cast was so all-consuming that it could only be driven out by the return of your light.”

I lace my fingers behind Ashen’s neck and draw him down into a kiss that’s slow and rich, one that takes its time to build the heat between us. Ashen’s lips still taste like mint, I still smell the ink that drifts from his skin on the sandalwood steam. He takes his time with his calloused hands to follow the line of my back and the curve of my hips and the swell of my ass. Like always, he places his heart in his palm when he touches me. He might think he fell too far into darkness, but he’s still my Ashen.

“Can you fly?” I whisper against his lips. I pull back enough to look into his eyes as the wings rustle through the water behind him.

“I don’t know. I was too preoccupied to try,” Ashen says. I smile as I lock my grip behind his neck and hook one leg over his hip and then the other. His erection twitches against me as his hands grip my waist. “Vampire,” he moans.

“Try,” I whisper, nipping at his lip. “Maybe we’ll fuck up there, weightless in the mist. What have you got to lose?”

With that, the massive wings rise from the water, stirring the swirls of smoke and sparks as they spread to their full width. Water slides back into the pool and drips across the patio stones, dousing some of the candles whose flames hiss as they die. Ashen’s wings beat in long, elegant sweeps. The light between the scales brightens, fed by the current of air. And then we’re lifting from the water, and the pool disappears beneath the fog.

We wobble just a little at first, but it doesn’t take more than a few pumps of his wings before Ashen seems to gain confidence and even comfort in the movement. I keep my legs clamped across his back and Ashen grips my thighs as we float through the heavy fog. It’s our own magical realm, where there’s just the white curling mist and the rhythmic whooshing of Ashen’s wings. The higher we go, the more the shroud thins and the air brightens.

And then we burst from the fog.

We hover over the thick cloud bank that billows in rolling plumes, the surface around us stirred by Ashen’s wings. The fog covers everything, stretching to the horizon and the setting sun that colors the surface in muted yellows and pinks. Above us, blue sky, deepening in color the further it spreads from the light of the sun. The first stars are starting to glimmer in the distant indigo.

“Have you seen the sky here before?” I whisper as we slowly spin, taking in the sea of clouds.

“Only once,” Ashen says. He folds a lock of wet hair behind my ear. He’s not looking at the world around us. His gaze is skimming my features as though cataloging every detail before landing on my lips. “When I was at the house on the cliffs. It was the night before I returned to Sanford. It was late but I couldn’t sleep. I was looking up at the skylights, trying to convince myself not to go back. The breeze was rolling the fog across the glass. But suddenly it swept back, and I saw the stars, just for a moment. The fog closed around them again and I got up and left for Sanford.”

“Ashen of House Urbigu. Are you saying some kind of divine intervention is why you chose to come back?” I tease, releasing one hand from around his neck to trace the line of his cheek with my fingers.

“No, vampire. I’d already decided. I just stopped trying to change my own mind.”

We stare right into one another for a long moment. The red rings have dissolved from Ashen’s eyes. The fire within his pupils brightens with crimson wisps among the languid black flame. He knows how hard it is to both live in darkness and let go of it. I felt the same, not that long ago. When I was lonely, I was safe. But I couldn’t stop myself from taking a risk on him. And he couldn’t stop himself from doing the same for me.

“I love you, Ashen,” I say. My fingertips trace his lips, over his chin, down the column of his throat. They flow between his collarbones. They follow the black edge of his mated mark. “All your brightest stars. All your deepest darkness. I love it all.”

Ashen’s breath shudders as my fingers continue down between us, following the line carved between his abs, down through the soft curls that trail to his hard erection. His wings give a stuttering beat as I grip his shaft and glide the tip across my slick folds, circling my clit.

“You’d better not let us fall, Reaper,” I say between kisses to the plains of muscle that span Ashen’s chest. I center his sex to my opening and slide down onto his cock as he moans. My flesh stretches around his girth and I relish the fullness, sighing with pleasure as I envelop his length. He braces one arm across my back as he grips my ass with his other hand.

“What, you mean like this?” Ashen’s wings fold around us and we drop several meters as I squeal and laugh. They splay wide and beat hard, lifting us above the mist once more.

“I take it back, that was great,” I say, breathless with the rush of adrenaline and the warmth of the kisses he presses to the pulse surging in my neck.

I lift and lower my hips, taking his full length with deep strokes as he pumps his wings, raising us higher above the cloud bank. Ashen gives my skin a little nip and I feel his desire curl at the edges of my mark, a silent, gentle question. I bring my wrist to my lips and bite down before offering it to Ashen’s mouth. He takes it greedily, sealing his lips over the wound. His deep sigh hums within my flesh, warming my veins.

I place a cool kiss to Ashen’s mark and then slide my fangs through the gold tattoo. His breath stalls. A deep growl of pleasure rumbles in his chest. The spiced sweetness of his blood floats over my tongue and slips down my throat, warming me from the inside. I keep drawing it out with deep pulls as I ride his cock, the pleasure building with the more blood we both take. The mated connection between us heightens the depth of each sensation. Every rub of my clit against him, every time my walls clench around his girth, every simple touch of intimacy is like harnessing the power of the realms and trapping it in my very soul.

I let go of Ashen’s mark to move my lips higher, clamping my fangs to his shoulder so I can grind my body to his as the pleasure grows closer to the breaking point. “Christ, vampire,” Ashen hisses as I take a long pull of blood. “I won’t be able to stop myself from filling you for much longer.”

“Then don’t,” I whisper when I pull away. I ride his cock harder, faster, pushing us both to the point where the climax will be unstoppable in its release.

Ashen lets go of my wrist, my blood coloring his lips. His forehead presses to mine. His moan is not just the sound of pleasure winding tighter as I grind on his erection. It’s the relief of connection, of holding fast to something you thought you lost. The crimson rings in Ashen’s eyes hold fast to mine as I trace my fingers across his face and whisper his name.

My sex tightens around Ashen’s cock as every stroke pushes me closer to coming apart. He threads his hand into my hair and pushes my face back to his shoulder, and I drink from the open wound. “Fangs,” he says breathlessly, and I slide them into his flesh as he moans. His other hand grips my wrist, ready draw it back up to his lips as I grind on his sex, taking as much of this length as I can. “Are you there? Are you ready to come?”

I nod and squeeze my eyes shut as my nerves start to burn with the impending release.

“Then hold on.”

Ashen’s wings wrap around us and we plummet. Their soft leather caresses my back and his blood fills my veins and I come apart, crying out into his flesh with the adrenaline-spiked pleasure. I open my eyes to watch as we fall through the clear air and into the fog. Ashen’s cock thickens as my pussy clenches, like my body is desperate to keep him, and then I feel him release into me, spilling and pulsing and falling as he lets go of my wrist to let out a feral, rapturous roar.

I’m still immersed in waves of my orgasm when Ashen halts our descent with heavy beats of his wings. We hover in the mist, both still consumed by sex and fear and trust. We just stay there a while, recovering our breath and kissing the blood from one another’s lips. When my heartbeat finally slows, Ashen lowers us through the fog and right into the pool, his wings draping into the water with hissing steam.

“I like the wings. Can we keep them?” I ask, smiling as Ashen sweeps the hair away from my face and kisses a line from one cheek to the next, crossing the bridge of my nose.

“I don’t know, to be honest. They sort of…appeared…in a fit of rage. I’m not sure how they come or go.”

“Well, they are welcome to stay,” I say, cupping some water and letting it roll over the trail of blood that flows down Ashen’s chest. I grip his shoulder and haul myself higher without breaking the connection between us. I feel Ashen’s his cock twitch within me and I give him a wicked smile of desire. “Now that you made me so filthy up there in the sky, I think you should fuck me in this pool, demon.”

Ashen’s smile darkens with ravenous need. He presses his lips to mine and lowers us into the water until the surface is up to our necks, lapping at our jaws. “My Queen. Your wish is my command.”