Chronicles of Arcana (The complete collection books 1-4) Page 6

  “You dare to steal from me?” Elora’s voice had the Draconi freezing in their tracks. It was a rumble of thunder that rattled my bones and chilled my marrow because she was addressing me.

  Fear activated my smart mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just came here to party.” My voice was breathless and reedy.

  Someone somewhere snorted. My gaze flicked toward the sound. Valance. He stood to the left of the throne, a goblet of something or other clutched in his hand. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, and his sleeves were rolled up to expose his tan, muscular forearms.

  And why the heck was that detail important right now?

  Elora leaned forward in her seat. Her thin upper lip curled up, exposing eye teeth way too thick and long to fit in such a face. “Where are my tributes, neph?”

  There were two choices here. Play dumb, or fess up and call her out on the tribute being a breach of the treaty. If there’d been any neph in the room then the latter would have totally been the way forward, but this was a private affair, and I was on my own. Dumb it would have to be. Letting go of the reins holding back the fear, I allowed terror to rise to the surface. My eyes burned and then misted with tears.

  “Please, please, don’t kill me.” There was no faking the tremor in my voice, or the twist in my stomach. “I took a wrong turn and got lost. I don’t know anything about a tribute.”

  “Azren, what did you find?” Elora asked.

  The Shedim holding me aloft squeezed the back of my neck, and pain danced across my shoulders. “She carries weapons and reeks of magic.”

  “Weapons?”

  “She is a bounty hunter, an investigator, and a retriever,” Azren continued. “She does not work for The Collective, although they want her to. She remains freelance.”

  My heart sank. How could he know this, unless ... unless he’d read my mind while I’d been unconscious.

  “She was sent to retrieve the childr—the private tributes,” Azren continued.

  What about Adam? Did he know about Adam Noir?

  A female stepped forward from the gathered, and Valance tensed. It was the woman who’d been a bitch to Valance at the buffet table in the ballroom. She shot me a smug glance and then offered Elora a deep bow.

  “My liege, forgive me, but I would be remiss if I did not inform you that our beloved Prince Valance escorted this neph into the ballroom.” The word beloved was saturated with faux sweetness.

  The only indication of Valance’s discomfort in light of the revelation was a tightening of his shoulders.

  “Valance?” Elora didn’t turn to look at her son, but her whole body seemed to coil in on itself, a serpent preparing to lash out.

  Valance shrugged, but the strain around his eyes belied his casual demeanor. “I escorted her, yes. I like leather.” His lips curved suggestively.

  A low growl emanated from Elora. “You brought a thief into my home.”

  “Unwittingly,” Valance added.

  Elora’s eyes narrowed and then a sadistic smile painted her lips. “Put her down, Azren.”

  The Shedim released me. My feet hit the ground, and my knees gave way. I stumbled, but a strong hand grabbed my arm, steadying me and holding me up. Azren stared down at me, his face emotionless, and then slowly, deliberately, he removed his fingers from my arm. He’d given me a moment to collect myself, to stand on my own, but why?

  “What is your name, neph?” Elora asked.

  My throat was too dry, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. “Wila.”

  “Your full given name.”

  It felt invasive giving her that information, but there was little choice. “Wilomena Bastion.”

  “Do you know what the penalty for stealing from the Draconi crown is?”

  Oh, God. “No.”

  She grinned, her face morphing into the beast that she was, teeth and flared nostrils and scaled ridges that would tear and shred. My bowels turned to water, but there was no way I’d quake, not when I knew that was exactly what she wanted. She morphed back and steepled her fingers beneath her chin as if nothing had happened.

  There was a long beat of silence as the room seemed to hold its breath. My gaze flew to Valance, the drunken prince who’d offered me a lift and now stood beside the monster who was about to announce my fate. From the tense expression on his face it wasn’t going to be anything good.

  Elora leaned forward in her seat, eagerness painting her perfect features. “I will give you to my guards and they will have your soul. They will shred it and tear it and then they will abuse your flesh with fire and ice and sharp objects, and when they’re done, when your soul is nothing but a whisper, when your flesh is tender and ready, then I will consume you.”

  This was what Balen had meant when he’d asked if he could have me? This was what my punishment would be? My body went numb, and my veins flooded with ice. This morning, my biggest concern had been picking up more Earl Grey tea, and now... No humor, no wit would get me out of this.

  Valance took a step toward the throne.

  “The penalty for your crime is—”

  Valance cut her off by leaning in and whispering something into her ear.

  Elora’s emerald eyes narrowed speculatively and then her lips curved in a sly smile. Valance stepped back and resumed his position a couple of feet beside the throne.

  “The penalty is death,” Elora continued. “But the Draconi believe in fate, and fate has brought you to me. Fate may save your life.”

  What was she talking about? She glanced at the males seated to her right; they looked to her in unison as if their heads had been drawn by a magnetic force, and then all three nodded.

  “There is a taint on us,” Elora continued, “a rogue faction of Shedim who have broken a sacred covenant. They are untouchable across the border, and every day that they are left unchecked, they claim more lives through their treachery. Their defection hurts those that remain. So, I offer you a choice, little neph. Sign a contract to work for me, to hunt down the Shedim hiding in Arcana, or die a slow, painful, prolonged death.”

  Really? Was that even a choice? I looked to Valance, no idea why, but his gaze was fixed on the ground. This had been his idea. But why? Why save me?

  “Miss Bastion? Will you be my hunter, or will you be the meat on my plate?”

  Fear of death had never been an issue. The life of a hunter, a freelancer like me, was always at risk, and death was an unknown possibility, but this was immediate, graphic, and definite. There was no heroism in this death, and terror was a serpent waiting to strike.

  “I’ll take the job.”

  Chapter 6

  Adocument was shoved in front of me by Azren. “Hold out your hand,” he said impassively.

  His tone may have been neutral, but tension radiated off his body in waves. “What are you going to do?”

  “Draw a little blood,” he said.

  Oh, great. Signing in blood was never a good thing. The parchment was thick, quality paper, and the script was curly, tight, and totally illegible. The usual protocol would be to ask a lawyer to give the thing a read-through, but this was no regular situation, and with all eyes on me, several who looked like they’d prefer I get thrown to the Shedim as a party favor, not to mention the glowing yellow eyes of the creepy Balen hovering over the back of Elora’s throne, there was no alternative but to hold out my hand and allow Azren to do his thing. His fingers curled around my wrist, his grip almost gentle. Where was the blade? He tugged me toward him and raised my hand to his mouth. He was going to—

  “Hell, no!” I pulled back, struggling to get free, but the grip that had seemed gentle a moment before was now a band of unrelenting steel.

  He took my thumb into his mouth, his hot mouth filled with fucking razors. The pain was sharp and brief and the slide of his lips on my skin as he withdrew my thumb from his mouth sent an unwelcome throb to secret places. And then he released me, taking a step back. His mouth worked a moment, and his jade eyes lo
cked on me in mild confusion, and then he blinked slowly and deliberately before fixing his gaze over my head.

  He shoved the parchment at me.

  “Your blood, freely given,” Elora said.

  Freely? That was a fucking joke. The cut stung, and blood, thick and dark, had welled up on my thumb. Grabbing the contract, I wiped my thumb on it. A prickle ran over my body, a sign that I’d been bound, and then the contract was gone, poof in a puff of smoke. Yeah, Draconi had their own kind of magic. Not Arcana magic, but something old and alien. Something that didn’t even have a name.

  It was done. Contract signed. “So, can I go now?” My voice sounded stronger than I felt, which was a good thing, because showing weakness to these beasts was like slitting open your abdomen and begging them to feast on your entrails.

  Elora canted her head. “Yes, Miss Bastion, you may go. You will take Azren with you, and you will report back to me at the next full moon.”

  What? I glanced up at the Shedim behind me. “Um, did you just say he had to come with me?”

  Elora’s grin was wide and horrific. “You should always read the fine print of any document you sign, Miss Bastion.”

  Fucking bitch.

  Her expression grew hard, and her skin rippled, as if the beast inside was eager to break free. “Azren is now in your employ, and you are in mine. You will find the rogue Shedim, and Azren will bind them and bring them to me. You will not attempt to engage them in any other way, do you understand?”

  I nodded. “I understand.”

  “Good hunting, Miss Bastion.”

  Azren gripped my elbow, and with my heart beating so hard it threatened to burst from my chest, I allowed him to lead me from the room.

  ***

  The next few minutes were a blur as Azren propelled me down corridor after corridor and then out into the night. Cool air kissed my brow and filled my lungs. We were in a tunnel similar to the one all the guests had arrived in. Except this one was lined with a variety of motorbikes.

  “Just breathe. You’re alive,” he said roughly.

  I did just that. Hands braced on my knees, doubled over, I breathed and sobbed, my chest aching from holding it all in. So close to death. So fucking close.

  Long seconds ticked by, then, “Good. Now shut it off and follow me.” Azren walked off.

  I straightened to stare at him. “Shut it off? What the fuck?”

  He paused with his back to me. He was no longer doing the floating thing. His torso was clad in a form-fitting, long-sleeved T-shirt, and his legs were now encased in denim and biker boots. Boots to go with the goliath motorcycle parked up against the wall, all black and sexy chrome. He’d kitted himself out for across the border, ready to blend right in, except for the dagger strapped to his waist.

  He slowly turned to face me. He’d even dimmed the vibrancy of his eyes. “Crying won’t change what happened, so why do it?” The words were a disgusted growl.

  “It’s called emotional release, but you’d actually have to have emotions to know that.”

  He turned his head away, offering only his profile, all moonlit and aloof. “Emotions will get you killed.”

  God, he had it so twisted. “Actually, emotions are what keep us alive.”

  His lip curled up, revealing the razor teeth he hadn’t bothered to disguise. “And yet, the only thing that kept you alive tonight was your profession.” He walked over to a goliath of a bike and climbed on. “Move it.”

  His posture, his tone, his fucking aura all screamed that he was pissed. He did not want to be doing this, but the contract was signed, and if I was ever going to be free then we needed to work together. Being pissed off was a waste of energy.

  Puffing out my cheeks, I blew out an agitated breath and held up my hands. “Look, it’s not my fault Elora’s sending you with me. Being snarky with me isn’t going to change anything.”

  His jaw ticked. “Just get on the damned bike so we can get on with this. The sooner we root out the traitors, the sooner I can come home.”

  Home. This fucked-up place was home to him, and because I’d stolen from his liege he was essentially being exiled. Yeah, living with this dude was going to be real fun. He started the engine, and the bike purred to life like a big cat being scratched behind the ears, and my stomach flipped. Dressing like a biker chick did not mean bikes were my thing. Hell, if there was a guarantee that it wouldn’t mess with the business persona, I’d paint my Mini pink and wear a fucking feather boa.

  Speaking of wearing stuff. “You got a helmet?”

  He snorted and shook his head. “Do you think fate would spare you from the jaws of my liege only to spatter your brains across the asphalt?”

  “Yeah, I’m still gonna need that helmet.”

  This time his growl was a feral thing that grabbed at my insides and twisted. “Get on the damned bike.”

  Ookay. I’d just dodged being soul shredded and eaten by a dragon, so getting pissy about riding without a helmet seemed ridiculous, not that he was offering to give me a choice.

  I threw up my hands. “Fine. Just get me to the bridge in one piece. My car is parked there. Then you can follow me.”

  Luck had made the Mini stall, and now that my luck was out, it’d probably be working fine. Deep breath, you can do this. Climbing up wasn’t so easy; it meant touching him. His shoulder was all taut muscle under my palm as I swung up onto the monster machine. Metal vibrated between my legs, sending inappropriate, totally unwelcome sensations thrumming through my body.

  “Hold on,” he ordered.

  Oh, lord. Wrapping my arms around his tapered waist brought me up against his broad back, and then we were in motion, straight down the tunnel and onto a steep dip. My insides did a loop-the-loop. No. No. No. Eyes squeezed shut, I buried my face in his shirt, held on for dear life, and gripped with my thighs as if the world depended on my muscle strength. We hit the bottom of the hill and then rolled onto a plateau, but hey, why wreck a good thing by looking up, right? Wind ruffling through the back of my hair, metal purring between my thighs, and rippling muscle rubbing up against my front, we made the journey through Draconi territory to the border.

  The motorbike swerved, and then came to a smooth halt. “Is this vehicle yours?” The buzz of the engine still vibrated in my ears, making his voice sound faraway.

  “Watch the tone. Mini is an antique.”

  It was time to unplug myself from the Shedim. Peeling myself off the bike, I stumbled onto the asphalt, resisting the urge to get on my knees and kiss the ground. The Mini sat staring at me in admonishment.

  I staggered over and patted her on the fender. “Hey, girl. Sorry about abandoning you. We good?”

  I popped open the door and then glanced across at Azren. The bike engine was idling as he braced the huge bike easily with one boot planted on the ground. His hair was tousled from the ride, falling across his forehead in a just-got-out-of-bed style. He looked almost normal, and then he had to go and spoil it with a curl of his lip and a flash of those razor teeth, as if he was reminding me what he was—danger at my back.

  “Can’t you do something about ...” I pointed at my mouth. “Those.”

  “Can you do something about yours?”

  Okay, that may have come across as offensive. Hey, who knew, maybe those teeth were incredibly desirable to the female Shedim. His whole floaty, glowy, sharp-edged looks with the wicked scar could be the in look in his circle.

  “I’m sorry, that was rude. I just meant, if you’re trying to fit in ...”

  He sighed. “No. I cannot change them.”

  “Okay. That’s cool, if anyone asks we can just say you have kelpie blood or something. Maybe we can pick up some l’eau de fish and douse you with it, make it all authentic-like.”

  He stared at me blankly. Seriously? Nothing? No smile. No chuckle. No good one, Bastion? This guy was killing my confidence with his deadpan responses. I needed a dose of Gilbert and Trevor, stat.

  “Never mind, just follow me. I
need to make a stop before we go home.”

  “No. We start hunting now.”

  I’d signed a contract to hunt down rogue Shedim, but there’d been no time line. I still had a business to run, and the contract had been clear about how Azren fit in. “Listen, big guy. You’re on my turf now, and according to your liege, you work for me. So, we go where the fuck I say we go, and we do what the fuck I say we do.”

  His brows snapped down. “You signed a contract to hunt.”

  “Yeah, and I’ll honor it. But I have a business to run, and the bills aren’t going to pay themselves. It’s not like your liege is paying me anything.”

  His eyes narrowed. “She spared your life.”

  Seriously? “Are you kidding me right now? In what fucking world is having your soul shredded and then being fed to a fucking dragon a reasonable punishment for stealing?”

  He stared down his nose at me. “In the Draconi world.”

  “And, of course, you’re okay with that.”

  His jaw clenched. “It doesn’t matter what I think. I do not make the law, I enforce it. I do not mete out the punishments. I simply hand over the guilty. The new generation has been raised to have appetites honed to include depraved acts. Their service is rewarded by indulging these depravities. It instils fear and ensures that citizens do not step out of line. In the current climate of senseless dissention, it is a necessary evil.”

  “Is it senseless?”

  He blinked at me and then canted his head. “Our liege is our savior. She slew our oppressor, King Ivan, and raised us from the ashes to give us voice. She took us under her mighty wings and brought us with her when she broke out of the horrific world that had been our prison for too long.” He snorted. “You have no idea what lies beyond the Keep. What horrors we keep at bay so that your world may remain untainted. You think we are the monsters ... You have no idea.”

  “Our world has been tainted. It was tainted when you encroached upon it, so damn straight you need to keep your shit on your side of the bloody border.”

  He tucked in his chin, shoulders heaving as if reining in his temper. When he raised his head, his expression was closed. “We have different views, different experiences, and as I must work in your world, we will do this your way. But do not forget you must report to Elora on the next full moon, which is just over two weeks away. Time is of the essence, and arguing merely wastes what little time we have.”