Chase the Dark (30 page)

She bristled with each observation until she was nearly spitting. “Mind your own damn business, Lyre. You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know a lot more about you than you know about Ash. So what makes you think you understand anything about him?”

She huffed, disgusted. “I knew this would be about him. Would you—”

“I’m not defending him, Piper. He went behind my back too.
But
”—he put heavy emphasis on the word—“I also know Ash better than you. And I know he wouldn’t do something like that unless he had a really good reason.”

“That doesn’t—”

“Make it okay,” he finished. “I know that too. I’ve known Ash for four years. You know I charge lodestones for other daemons, right? Sometimes it’s dangerous. Harmless daemons don’t have lodestones. It’s the powerful and the ambitious who have more lodestones than they have time to charge. Do you know how many times Ash has saved my life in the last four years? Do you know how much he’s risked for me?”

She met Lyre’s stare and said nothing.

“You know what else, Piper? If the Sahar had been mine, and Ash had asked me to give it to him, I would have.”

By human standards, that was like a billionaire handing over every last penny he owned. “Because he’s saved your life before?”

“No,” Lyre admitted. “I’ve helped him too. We watch each other’s backs.” He exhaled sharply. “I’d give it to him because he needs it more than me.”

“Needs it for what?”

“He’ll never tell you. I don’t think it’s my place to, either.”

“Tell me
what
?”

He didn’t answer, studying her.

She stared back, ready to burst with frustration. “You’re not being very convincing, Lyre.”

“Honestly, Piper,” he said, his voice going cold, “I don’t think I should have to convince you. Ash isn’t going to try either.”

“Because there’s no argument you can make!”

Anger simmered in his face. Again, the daemons were angry with her. Ash had betrayed her. Why didn’t they
get it
?

“Do you remember what Vejovis told you?” he asked abruptly.

“Huh?”

“He said, ‘If you three survive this, he’ll need your forgiveness. If you can.’” Lyre raised his eyebrows.

Piper’s skin prickled. Vejovis had known Ash had stolen the Sahar.

“He also said, ‘If you can’t forgive him when the time comes, then you are not strong enough to stand among us.’”

Her hands clenched into fists. Lyre appraised her reaction, then shook his head, disgusted. “Humans. You’re looking out a window, thinking you can see the whole world instead of one narrow view of it.” He rose to his feet, towering over her. “I’ll tell you one piece of what Ash will never tell you.”

She went still, frozen by the look in Lyre’s eyes.

“For giving up the Sahar, Ash will be killed. He’ll be hunted down and slaughtered, like those assassins in the medical center tried to kill him—and almost succeeded.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. With everything else going on, she’d forgotten about the two daemon assassins and their threats—that Ash was on their mysterious boss’s hit list. Did he need the Sahar to protect himself? But he’d already stolen it from her
before
those guys attacked him. It didn’t make sense.

“He’s throwing away his last chance—to protect us,” Lyre said, interrupting her thoughts. “So maybe you can understand why I don’t have much patience with your grudge.” With a dismissive shrug that made her feel two inches tall, he looked out across the lawn. “He made a desperate decision for a desperate reason.” He cast her a sidelong glance. “Who would you betray for the chance to have your own magic?”

“I wouldn’t betray anyone,” she snapped. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself. The denial was still fresh on her tongue even as a terrible longing rose in her. Magic. To have magic. It would solve all her problems. She would have no problem becoming a Consul—one of the best Consuls. Daemons and haemons wouldn’t sneer at her anymore. She’d no longer be inferior. Quinn wouldn’t be disappointed in her. Wouldn’t be too busy to take a part in her life now and then.

She shook her head, banishing that line of thought. A few minutes passed in silence while she dwelt instead on Lyre’s words. Would Ash be killed without the Sahar? But then, he’d almost been killed in the medical center even with the Sahar on him. There was a huge piece—or several pieces—missing from the picture. Why wouldn’t Lyre tell her what was really going on? On top of that, she wondered why Lyre and Vejovis thought she should just forgive Ash. Even if she were willing to forgive one aspect of his betrayal, she couldn’t forgive it all. Ash had come to the Consulate intending to steal the Sahar from the vault. When that failed, he’d stolen it from her. She’d thought they’d been in it together, but he’d had an escape route all along.

She pressed both hands to her face, trying to squeeze some sense into her brain. Of course she cared that Ash might be killed; no matter how angry and hurt she felt, she didn’t want him to die. But at the same time, all she could see was his blank, cold expression as he dropped the Sahar in her hand as if he were doing her some big favor—after he’d
stolen it
from her. If Micah hadn’t run off with the fake, Piper never would’ve clued in. Ash would have walked away with the most prized and powerful magical artifact out there. Everything he’d done since he’d arrived at the Consulate had been angled toward him getting away with the grandest larceny of all time.

Thinking about him was making her want to punch something. She put Ash out of her head and instead fretted about how easily their shaky plan could go wrong. She stared at the silent house, wondering if her father was in there and if he was okay. More than anything, she wanted the safety and security of his presence—the chance to hand over all her problems and let an adult take care of it.

Ash returned in eerie silence, sliding out of the darkness like a ghostly wraith. He explained that he’d found a spot at the back of the house where the tree line came a little closer to the building. Piper and Lyre followed him back through the trees in a bizarre, dangerous game of follow-the-leader, where they had to step exactly where he stepped to avoid making any noise. Even copying him exactly, she still rustled leaves and crunched a few stones underfoot.

They stopped in a well-hidden opening a few feet wide, surrounded by concealing bushes. On the other side of a large, thorny bush, the house seemed to watch them from across thirty paces of overgrown lawn. Kneeling beside the two daemons, Piper chewed her bottom lip, adrenaline pumping through her and making her hands shake. This had to work. Had to.

“Ready?” Ash whispered. He glanced upward. Zwi dropped from a tree branch to land on his shoulder, camouflaged with all black scales. Her mane stood on end as she arched her neck and growled softly. Piper took a deep breath, checking for the loose stone in her pocket. It had felt a lot safer in the ring box down her shirt. She looked at Ash, waiting for him to send Zwi in. He stared at the house, expression blank.

“Uh . . . Ash?”

He twitched his head sideways, like a fly was buzzing around his ear. Zwi whined plaintively, shaking her head. Ash jerked his head again and pressed both hands to his ears for a second.

“What’s wrong?” Lyre asked.

Ash shook his head again. “Weird sound,” he grunted. He dug the heels of his hands hard into his ears, hunching his shoulders.

“Is this really the time?” Piper muttered.

He tried to focus on her even as he kept twitching his head. His eyes glazed and he clamped both hands over his ears again. He bowed forward, biceps bunching from tension, swearing under his breath.

“I hear someone coming,” Lyre said.

Piper tore her stare away from Ash and squinted through the screen of leaves. Coming around the far side of the building were two people, a man and a woman. The man was carrying a black object the size of a small briefcase in one hand. They studied the tree line as they slowly walked the perimeter of the lawn.

“They’re coming this way.” She rose into a crouch. “We have to get farther back. Ash, come on!”

The draconian didn’t move. He was curled forward, hands clamped over his ears, muscles locked down. She grabbed his elbow and tried to guide him deeper into the trees. It was like trying to move a boulder.

“Shit,” Lyre swore. He grabbed Ash’s other arm. “Come on, man. We can’t stay here. Whatever that noise is, let’s get you away from it.”

Ash unlocked enough to bring his head up. His face was tight with pain. Together, she and Lyre led a stumbling Ash back into the trees. Zwi clung to his shoulder, her head buried against the side of his neck as she whimpered. Piper winced at every snapping twig under their feet.

“Stop,” Lyre hissed. “They’re too close.”

The three of them held still, listening. The two sentries were apparently doing the same, because all was silent.

“We know you’re there,” a voice called—the man. Piper’s heart jumped into her throat. She exchanged a frantic, silent look with Lyre. “Come out now!”

“Do you think it’s them?” the woman asked quietly, her voice floating through the quiet night.

“Shall we find out?” the man asked, sounding eager.

Another moment of silence.

Ash went rigid. His head flew back, hands clamped like vises over his ears. He arched onto his toes like he’d been hit with a cattle prod. His eyes rolled back in his head. Then he collapsed.

She and Lyre grabbed him, easing him down as he shuddered and twitched. Zwi convulsed beside him, squeaking with each jerk of her tiny body. Piper pressed on his shoulder, trying to hold him still.

“Lyre,” she hissed frantically. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know!”

Voices sounded from the Consulate lawn a dozen paces away.

“Is it working?” the woman asked.

“Not sure,” the man answered. “Should I turn it up?”

“Go for it.”

Ash arched upward, heels digging into the soft earth. His entire body went rigid. Panic erupted in Piper. He was going into a seizure.

“No,” she gasped. She grabbed his shoulder and Lyre helped her roll him onto his side as he began to convulse, limbs jerking violently.

“No!” she cried again in a whisper. She looked up, neck craning toward the invisible man and woman. They were the source of whatever was hurting Ash. They had to be. Without stopping to think or plan, she lunged to her feet and charged out of the trees.

The sentries were waiting for her.

The spell hit her the second she burst out of the bushes, blasting her off her feet. She hit the ground and felt the second spell bind her arms behind her back. She rolled to her feet anyway. Damn it, she shouldn’t have run straight at them like that.

“Stop it,” she yelled. “Whatever you’re doing to him, stop it now!”

The man’s face lit. He was young, maybe twenty-two or three, with sandy hair and an innocent face. The woman was around thirty, her curves a little too out of control to be flattering, and her brown hair over-styled compared to her simple khaki pants and t-shirt.

“So it’s working?” the guy asked. “Awesome.” He grinned.

The woman gave Piper a stern look. “Sit there.” She pointed to a patch of grass in the middle of the lawn. “Now. Or we’ll turn it up and see what happens to your daemon friend then.”

They could make it worse? Not understanding enough to know what to do or how to fight back, she obeyed, her motions rough with urgency and fear. What else could she do? Once she was sitting, arms still bound with magic, the woman pulled out a two-way radio and called for reinforcements.

“We knew you’d come,” the guy said, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. The black briefcase sat at his feet, conspicuously out of place. At close range, it didn’t quite look right. “We’d already found out who you were travelling around with. What took you so long to come?”

Piper blinked, trying to make sense of what he was saying while her brain kept screaming at her to kick his stupid butt.

“I didn’t know where to go,” she answered tightly. “What are you doing to Ash?”

“Sound,” he replied happily, picking up the briefcase and patting it like an obedient dog. “Ultrasound, to be specific. We can’t hear it, but this speaker is blasting out ultrasonic pulses at an extremely high frequency. Draconians don’t have many weaknesses, but they’re especially sensitive to air pressure. The pressure waves from the ultrasound pulses are basically shattering his inner ears.” He beamed a smile at her.

For half a second, she was too horrified to react. “Turn it off,” she yelled, half rising.

“Stay where you are,” the woman commanded. “You too,” she shouted into the bushes. “The speaker can go louder. If either of you move, we’ll turn it full blast.”

Piper froze, imagining Lyre somewhere in the trees doing the same. If the sound at its current level was making Ash seizure, what would a louder pulse do to him? Before she had a chance to think of how to get her hands on that speaker, half a dozen people came jogging around the corner of the house. Her heart sank. They were screwed.