Shadowglass - The Shadowfae Chronicles Part 16

His gaze caught mine, burning, and swiftly I looked away, light-headed. "Okay, then."

"Sure."

"Fine." d.a.m.n, my chin really itched like a b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I sc.r.a.ped it with my claws.

"Show me your face."

"What?" I scratched again, harder, and blisters burst, spreading the itch.

He lifted my jaw with his finger, ducking his head to look, and clicked his tongue. "Joey really got you a good one. Already swollen. Wash it out."

"What?" I say that a lot around him. Gotta get some vocab, Ice. Gotta get some vocab, Ice.

He touched a cut. It stung, and my skin stuck to his finger when he pulled it away. He waved his fingertip before my eyes, showing me a blob of evil green goo. "Venom. Wash it out or your skin'll rot." He licked his finger clean and spat, wrinkling his nose. "Nice."

Alarm tumbled my pulse downhill. "Venom?"

"Yeah. You know. Like a snake."

"But he had his hand in my mouth. I coulda swallowed some!" Already my chin swelled, my flesh tight and hot. I swallowed, and it hurt. Frantic, I shoved my claws down my throat, scrabbling for my tonsils to make myself throw up.

Indigo grabbed my wrist and gently forced my fingers away. "Stop it. Calm down. It's venom, not poison. Drink as much of it as you want. It won't hurt you."

I swatted at the scratches on my chin, panic tumbling in my pulse. "But what about these? I've gotta get to a shower-"

"No time. Wash it out."

"What? How?"

"Water fairy, right? Before it sinks in, Ice. Now." Urgency sparked his eyes rusty red, and panic tightened around my lungs like a rubber band.

"I . . . I can't." I flushed, not from effort but embarra.s.sment, and water seeped on my skin like light sweat, not enough.

"What?" His turn for monosyllables, a whisper that didn't engage my confidence.

I shuddered, my skin cold and horribly dry. I jerked my wings, but I'd already shaken off the water. My stomach flipped, cold, and I jumped up and down in frustration. "I can't do it on purpose! I don't know how."

He swallowed, and his wing tips rippled coppery. "s.h.i.t. Okay. Calm down. We'll fix you up. Come here." He slid his hand around my neck and pulled me close, ignoring my jitters.

His powerful steely scent slid deep into my sinuses, and my head swam, light, either from the venom or from him. I flapped ineffective hands. "What are you doing?"

"Just stand there and take it, okay?" And before I could react, he nudged my chin up and opened his hot mouth onto my throat.

His lips burned me, gentle yet unyielding. My breath slid away in a hot rush of surprise that quickly melted into delicious pleasure. My skin sparkled under his kiss, all the way down. I closed my eyes. He kissed my throat, my jaw, the delicate place where my pulse trembled, wet openmouthed kisses that poured molten delight down along my collarbone and tugged my nipples tight.

Heat shivered down my spine to tingle between my legs. I tilted my head back, and water dripped over my chin, not just sweat now but the real hot water of desire.

His tongue stroked my slashed skin, stinging yet delicious. My veins constricted under the pressure, my pulse beating harder. So he was a taste fetishist. Just like I'd imagined. Baby, you can taste me all you want. Baby, you can taste me all you want. His brittle claws teased my scalp and crunched in the dripping hair at the back of my neck, and I couldn't suppress a whimper of delight. His brittle claws teased my scalp and crunched in the dripping hair at the back of my neck, and I couldn't suppress a whimper of delight.

And then he sucked, noisily, and I realized belatedly what he was really doing.

Not kissing me. Not licking my throat for the pleasure of it. Sucking out the poison. Making me wet all over, just to wash the venom out.

He released me and spat a mouthful of blue-tinged green slime onto the concrete. "Yuck. Gross." He worked his mouth to get more saliva, and spat again, cleaner this time.

I licked my lips, still breathless and trembling, and my voice shrank somewhere on its way from my swollen throat to my mouth. "Thanks. I think."

He glanced up at me halfway through wiping his mouth and halted, completing the remainder of the movement carefully. "Sorry. I didn't mean you you were-" were-"

"I know. I agree. Pretty stank, huh?" I tugged my diamond-stuffed bag tight on my shoulder. The scratches still hurt. The bruise he'd so sweetly made there hurt, too. But it hurt worse, deep in my heart, that he'd said that. That I'd wanted him to touch me even though he'd done nothing but insult me all morning, and that even when he had his mouth on my throat and my pulse trembling under his tongue, the rest of me hadn't tempted him for even a moment.

Just like Blaze said. Indigo wanted something. Only reason he was still here.

Water still trickled over me, warm and painfully obvious. Embarra.s.sment curdled my guts, and I stuck my hand on my hip, trying to look p.i.s.sed off instead of bewildered and aroused. "So, what do we do now? Run away? Hide? Jump in front of a tram?"

He fingered his bottom lip with one claw, mesmerizing. "I'm thinking strawberry, rather than chocolate."

Infuriating boy. "Look, sorry if I'm a bit slow, but what the f.u.c.k?"

"Strawberry ice cream. That's your favorite, right? You look like you could use one. It's on me."

I waved my arms in frustration. "You pick now to ask me out? And how the h.e.l.l do you know what flavor I like?"

He shrugged, sensual. "You want some or not?"

"You wanna go for ice cream? Are you crazy? I mean, hey, I'm flattered, but did you forget that we've got Snake-a.s.s DiLuca and his bondage princess chasing us?"

Indigo caught my wrists and gently forced me to relax. "Which is why we're going for ice cream. At Valentino's. Think Joey'll dare show his scaly b.u.t.t in Angelo's place?"

My wits flittered about like autumn leaves, and his hot grip on my wrists-I've always wanted him to hold me down and ravish me-wasn't helping. My gaze stuck itself like wet leaves to his silvery mouth, and I peeled it off with a squelch.

Valentino's. Ange Valenti's cafe. Ange would probably be there himself, and even if Sonny was around, I still had a day or two's grace. Grudging respect for Indigo's wits soothed my irritated nerves, and I stopped wriggling. My fingerpads itched to touch him back, but I stilled them. "Good point."

"Yeah. I thought so."

"Indigo."

"What?"

"You're still holding me."

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry." He let me go, and hid his hands shyly behind his back.

Frustration jammed my nerves, and my wings quivered tight. Maddening, impossible boy.

I straightened, tugging my bag over my shoulder, and side by side we walked over smeared concrete toward the sun.

I stole a glance at him, so close beside me. This was either my lucky day, or some weird nightmare. Sunlight glinted on his silver-foil wings, almost too bright to watch. His lips shone, still silvery wet, and I remembered their warmth on my inflamed throat and wondered if he'd ever kiss me again.

His hand brushed mine, accidental, and he cleared his throat and tucked his hands behind his back again.

A warm hollow emptied inside. I felt like a blushing schoolgirl. Not that I ever went to school much.

A dragonfly zipped by, and he lifted a coppery claw and let the insect land. It preened itself in the sun, wings flickering. He sighed, short. "Look. Ice cream's not like the diamonds, okay?"

I couldn't help but glance down at my wrist, where my shinies danced in sunlight. My belly warmed. So pretty. Mine. So pretty. Mine. I got a kiss with them and everything. But at what cost? "Whatcha mean?" I got a kiss with them and everything. But at what cost? "Whatcha mean?"

"I did what I did back there with the venom without asking. This isn't an apology. But we need to talk, Ice."

My skin dampened at the memory of his mouth on my skin. Sure, let's talk. About doing it again, only without the venom. Sure, let's talk. About doing it again, only without the venom. "Umm." "Umm."

"About this mirror, and what we're going to do." He flicked his finger, and the dragonfly darted away.

"Oh. Yeah. That."

A fleeting glance, delicious. "Besides, I've been waiting for the chance to take you out."

My stomach hit my kneecaps, and giggles ripped in to take its place. Yeah, this must be a dream. A psychedelic one, like when you snort too much banshee blue and pa.s.s out. I snickered. "Oh, you're such a liar. I've only asked you about a million times and you always brush me off."

"You always want to go for pizza. I hate pizza."

Giddy warmth spilled in my heart. He hates pizza. Who knew?

Afternoon sun burns ocher through cracked warehouse windows, dragging long shadows from machinery draped with the dirt and cobwebs of disuse. Dust motes spar in crisscrossed shafts of light, a cruel cage of silent accusation, and below stands Akash, his lips locked in a flame-tickled kiss with a slender silvery fairy.

His throat bulges with the fat throb of stolen magic. The fairy's wings judder and crackle, but it can't escape, trapped in the cruel strength of Akash's arms.

Akash swallows one final time and pulls away. The fairy's body slumps to the concrete, its dulled pearlescent wings crushing beneath its weight. Its pretty head hits the floor at a strange angle, and dust filters slowly into long black hair. Gla.s.sy eyes stare, blank, extinguished like its pretty flames.

Now those flames are Akash's. Yellow fire ribbons from his fingers to flicker out a few inches from the floor. His nails glitter, drenched in fairyshine, and he smells gunpowder.

Just like the banshee's song. Pretty. Pointless. No help against Kane.

Akash slams himself onto his ripped plastic stool and fidgets, unable to keep still or dodge the unfeeling sun's glare. Strange stolen powers gibber and struggle inside him, bickering and gnawing at each other like an ornery crowd. He's eaten firefae, banshee, black spriggan, green spriggan, earthfae, absorbed their fickle powers into his own, and he still doesn't understand how Kane tempts them, or how to stop it. About him, nailed into crude wooden crates, more creatures wail and protest and scream, waiting their turn, and the air stings with sour fear.

On the desk, the Quang's rusty sphere rolls and giggles, sly laughter that echoes in Akash's heart.

Akash swallows, and his guts fight him, struggling to explode. Something's not right. His nerves quiver, and he slams his palms on his knees, the light pain a welcome solace, but only for a second or two. Evil yearning fires his blood, new and excruciating, and even though the sunset-drenched sky will not speak, he knows somehow it's his own fault.

This is not what Shadow sent him here for. He was supposed to claim this broken city back, purge it of wicked temptation. Not drink it up and long for more.

Silence. Screeching heat. Horrid water impregnating the air like maggots. Surely this place is h.e.l.l itself. But his body craves it, hungers for bone-shattering sensation, more and again and rougher and harder until he screams.

But he doesn't scream, not now, not with Indra watching. This, too, is a new sensation, this hiding, the cunning delight of lies, and it coils tight and delicious inside him like a venomous snake.

He sc.r.a.pes his teeth together and grates his elbows back and forth on the torn wooden desk until the ruts char and smoke, but it doesn't help. The boxed creatures snarl and curse. His fingers shake, the fine hair on his arms ripples in some invisible sensory breeze, and with a disgusted snarl he jerks up and paces, raking his hair with sparking hands that alternate hot and cold. He doesn't know what to do. If Shadow finds out he's changing . . .

The sphere wobbles, seasick.

Akash s.n.a.t.c.hes it up, and metal fins scythe open. The mirror glints at him, inscrutable. His eye reflects back at him, bloodshot blue. "Show me Kane again."

The mirror snickers, and shows him.

A black cavern, blood-soaked earth and burning oil, puddles of flame shimmering green and blue. The image pans, dizzy through screeching bra.s.s doors carved with teeth and tongues. Silver wings sparkle in firelight, a sneaky blue hand snaking out to steal. Flashes of storm-gray eyes and reddish metal claws, a fall of auburn hair, straining blue wrists in cruel chains, rich splatters of blood and a scream so deep, it hurts Akash's lungs just to listen. A name, howled raw and broken to an uncaring heaven. Natasha. Akash doesn't know her.

He squeezes, edges slicing his palms scarlet. "Not that. More."

Fast-forward, noise and images tumbling, past a chocolate-skinned demon mistress with flaming purple hair, through acres of blackness and curling h.e.l.lflame to the nightclub, dark and alive with sound and wrath and neon-lit smoke. Flash of diamonds, sharp demon teeth, the slick heat of a kiss, yellow claws sc.r.a.ping on linen and the horrid death-pleasure of losing your breath.

The mirror sighs and lingers, a slow, languorous image of the yellow girl twisted in soaked white sheets with Kane. Limbs entwined, wet hair tangling her throat, lips sliding swollen together.

Akash growls, the banshee's angry magic festering in his throat. She's very pretty. Such slim legs, her thighs dusted with gold as they wrap around the demon's hard body. Her wings are delicate, so fine, they crumple like silk, her arms long and graceful even embracing such a foul creature. And Kane, earth's golden child-so beautiful, he's frightening-Kane keeps his eyes closed, like he's pretending nothing's happening. Like it's all beyond his control.

Akash murmurs, his fingers fidgeting with possibilities. Maybe this means Kane is in her power. The power to seduce Kane is one worth having. But how is it done? "Show me more."

The mirror sighs and obliges. Fast-forward, a scrabble through sun-parched city streets to a weathered house, withered plants and paint peeling in strips. Crisp yellow flame on crimson wings, a flash of bold black eyes, white fairy skin translucent in burning sun, the sharp citrus flavor of guilt. A tumble of apple-green hair, luminous blue eyes pooled with tears . . .

Frustrated, Akash shakes his head, fairysparks spitting. "That's not what I meant. Back. Show me Kane's yellow girl."

The mirror grumbles in protest. Twitching red spriggan ears, grasping leathery fingers, a meaty tongue sc.r.a.ping on gla.s.s.

Akash yowls, vibrant with stolen banshee compulsion, and the mirror recoils and does as it's told. Yellow girl, laughing against broken bricks with sunshine in her eyes, the rich metal kiss of her lover.

Acid floods his veins, bitter on his tongue, and his bones ache. He rejoices. Jealousy. Not just unease or apprehension or vague happiness. A real, raw emotion from h.e.l.l.

Urgency hastens his pulse. This yellow girl is surely the key. He must find her, examine her, suck out her secrets. He peels his hungry gaze away and snaps the mirror shut. "Indra!"

Akash studies her with fresh gla.s.s-warped cynicism. Still wearing the same dusty clothes, her dark hair clumped from lack of combing. He still hasn't forgiven her, and she's worried. She doesn't want to be alone. Please him, Please him, she's thinking. she's thinking. Make him remember he needs me. Give him everything he wants, and maybe he'll take pity on me. Make him remember he needs me. Give him everything he wants, and maybe he'll take pity on me.

He's thought like that himself on so many occasions, prostrated himself under an unfeeling sky with silence for reward. Punished so many times for asking too many questions, for staring too long at the stars, for asking the insects where the sun goes at night. He knows now to call that emptiness pain.

He knows now that the sky lies. Shadow lies. Kane is not weak but near invincible. Pain is not evil, rather food for the soul. The world is not steeped in suffering, but immersed in sensory pleasure. And rather than condemning the creatures to torment, all that emotion and sensation make them happy.

The sky is false, and Akash is alone. Abandoned. Expendable. He was never meant to succeed. This mission was punishment, just like everything else, for too many questions, for always asking the wrong things of the wrong people. Something is most surely wrong with him. It's called curiosity, and he won't ever give it up. No matter how they brainwash him.

He owes Shadow nothing. He need no longer obey.

So why fight Kane? Why not just stay here and drown in sweet reality?

In his mind, the earth shudders and opens up to suck him away.

Indra blinks, her pretty mouth trembling. "Yes, Akash?"

His heart softens. He is her sky, her watcher, her protector. He'll not be so cruel. He'll not lie to keep her obedience. She doesn't deserve this treachery.

He reaches out to her, and shyly she slides dusty fingers into his palm. He smiles gently, covering the rage that squeezes his heart like a vise. He'll still search for Kane. Kane has answers, can show him how to survive in this delicious place. But a demon won't give his secrets up willingly, not to an ancient enemy. "We must seek out this yellow girl Kane chose."

Indra nods eagerly. "We shall."