Shadow City (5 page)

There was no sign of Scooter. She frowned. He didn’t usually let her out of his sight. She was lucky to get privacy to go to the bathroom. So where was he? She caught her breath. Maybe he couldn’t find her here.

She could escape.

She severed the thought. There wasn’t any place she could go where he wouldn’t find her, except maybe the abyss, and she sure as hell didn’t want to hang here forever. Besides, she’d promised to help him, and that bound her in unbreakable chains.

Her mouth flattened as another possibility occurred to her. A wave of emotion crashed over her, and she doubled over. She could go home. Just for a few minutes. Long enough to—

To what? To say good-bye? To tell everyone what she should have told them long ago? To see Alexander?

She squeezed her eyes shut against the acid burn of tears and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Guilt and loss spun through her, shredding her from the inside out. Her stomach churned. She had avoided thinking about him since Scooter had taken her. But now the dam broke, and she couldn’t stop the flood. Guilt was the worst. Recrimination. Longing. Loss. Fear. Dread.

She forced herself to straighten. It was her fault. She’d had every chance to say something, and she’d balked. She’d let her fear take over. Fear of what?

Betrayal
.

Even now she could barely admit it. After Giselle—her best friend then—had trapped her in the life of a Shadowblade, Max hadn’t trusted anyone. She’d lived only for revenge. Then Alexander had come along. He’d proven himself to her over and over. Hell, he’d almost killed himself helping to save her family. The memory of his mangled body sent a tremor through her. She hadn’t thought he could survive. And how had she repaid him? She squeezed her eyes shut on her tears. She didn’t deserve to cry. Like an idiot, like a coward, she’d wasted their last moments together.

Fury and frustration rose in an inferno. Not just for Alexander but for Scooter and for herself. She screamed, deep and primal, her neck tenting with the force of it. Abruptly, she snapped her mouth shut, swallowing her emotions. She squared her shoulders and flexed her fingers. She was wasting time.

She looked around. Scooter had never talked about how to leave. The one time she’d been pulled inside, it had been a spell, and it had spat her back out again just as quickly as she’d arrived. So, now what?

She closed her eyes. She could still feel every particle of herself pulsing. Going out must look the same as going in, right? It seemed reasonable, anyhow. What was she worried about? She could only die once.

She pulled herself back down inside, half certain that the fortress would be gone. But it was there. Going back through was just as hard as before, and for a second, she didn’t think she’d have the strength to drag herself through. But then she found herself sprawled on the warm sand.

Scooter knelt beside her as she panted. “You did it.”

“Thanks for the news flash,” she said, sitting up and reaching for her T-shirt. She pulled it over her head and shimmied into her underwear and pants. The hyper-awareness of her body faded, but didn’t vanish. She was pretty sure she’d be able to go back when she wanted. “What now?”

He stood, giving her a hand up. He wasn’t much taller than she was, and he smelled musky and earthy, like the mountains after a rain. “You must eat. You need to refuel. Then we will go.”

“Go?”

“To Chadaré.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s Chadaré? Where is it?”

“It is inside the abyss. It is the city of shadows.”

Max nodded as if that made sense. “OK. What are we going to do there?”

“Exactly what you were made to do. We are going to Chadaré to hunt.”

He smiled. The expression sent chills up Max’s back, and the Shadowblade inside her leaped instantly to a killing edge. Her mind flattened, and her senses sharpened as the predator took over. Her teeth bared in an animal snarl as her body tensed, ready to kill.

A
LEXANDER LEFT
T
YLER TO KEEP WATCH ON THE
column of smoke, while he and Niko returned to the mountain fortress.

Much of the surface of the main mountain had been melted from Xaphan’s battle fire and was frozen in a landscape of melted black ripples and bubbling pools. The trees were scorched for miles from the wildfires he had caused.

Four weeks ago, he and Tutresiel had been sent by the Guardians to attack Horngate. Giselle had refused to serve in their war to destroy most of humanity and return magic to the world. To punish her, the Guardians had sent a rogue witch and the two angels to wipe out the coven. But then Max had tricked them. Using a magical hailstone, she had wished for the Guardians to forget all about Horngate, then had offered the angels a chance to join the covenstead and be free of their Guardian masters. Both had agreed—being owned by a witch was better than being owned by the deathless Guardians. Alton, the rogue witch, was imprisoned in the bowels of the mountain, still awaiting Giselle’s judgment.

Since the attacks, Xaphan had been a great help. Giselle had been drained nearly to death, and the fire angel’s healing abilities had guaranteed her survival. Tutresiel, on the other hand . . . Alexander’s lip curled. That bastard could rot in hell for all he cared. He did not trust him in the slightest.

“Whoa—what’s going on?” Niko asked as the power of Alexander’s Prime spiked and rolled off him in palpable waves.

Alexander shook himself and pulled his Prime back down, grimacing at his lack of control. He was walking the fine edge between sanity and going feral. It would not take much to push him over the edge. He looked at his companion, one eyebrow quirking. “Are you sure you want me for a Prime? I may be more dangerous than not.”

Niko shrugged. “It’s not like you’re going anywhere, so we have to deal with you one way or another. Besides, even without Magpie’s prophecy and Max wanting this, you suffer from the same terminal sense of responsibility she does. You’ll keep it together, if only because that’s your job. And oh, yeah, she’ll kill you if you don’t.” He grinned at Alexander and slapped him on the shoulder. “We have faith in you.”

“That is comforting,” Alexander said dryly.

“Remind me to send you a bill for the therapy. I’m not cheap, you know.”

“Funny. Word is that you are both cheap and easy.” Alexander stiffened, his voice dropping. “Speaking of which . . .”

They had come to the main entrance of the mountain fortress. Below, a quick-flowing river snaked through the valley. Across it were rows of greenhouses where a great deal of work had been going on in the last eight weeks. The Guardians’ war on humanity was turning the clock back to a fairy-tale time when magic ruled and there were no factories or tractors or grocery stores.

In an effort to restore magic and magical creatures to the world, the Guardians had unleashed a torrent of wild magic and not-so-natural disasters, from hurricanes and tornadoes to earthquakes, tsunamis, and volcanoes. The goal was to prune humanity back to nearly nothing so they could not crush out magic again. Already, most of California’s central valley had been turned into an enchanted forest, and chances were, every human caught up within had been transformed into some kind of creature or had been eaten by one. Enchanted forests were not safe places for anyone, least of all ordinary humans.

There was little enough news about what had happened elsewhere in the world. But one thing was for sure—the grocery shelves were increasingly bare, and Horngate was going to have to produce all of its own food before winter hit. More, if they wanted to help the people in Missoula and the surrounding area. Giselle would want to. So would Max. All of that would not be so difficult if the coven were healthy and whole and if Shadowblades and Sunspears didn’t need to eat a minimum of twenty or thirty thousand calories a day just to fuel the spells they were made of. As it was, the next six months were going to be rough.

Xaphan’s fires had not destroyed the magically shielded greenhouses, but every plant inside had withered and died. Now every able body was tasked with coaxing seeds and cuttings to life. There was already a bite in the air that signaled early snows. There were few witches to help with the growing, although the recent additions of Max’s father and brother had been welcome, not to mention the two Triangle-level witches Alexander and Max had rescued when their California covenstead had come under attack.

But those were not what caught Alexander’s eye. A girl sat on a boulder just outside the entrance. She was slender and wore artfully torn jeans and a form-fitting blouse. Her hair was the color of ripe wheat and hung loose to her waist. Earbuds hung in her ears, and she tapped her fingers on her leg as she scanned the darkness. She had not yet seen Alexander and Niko approaching. But then, Shadowblades could see perfectly in cave darkness, and Tory was merely human. She was also Max’s nineteen-year-old niece and a total pain in the ass.

Since Max’s disappearance, Tory had started following Alexander around like a lovesick rattlesnake. She hated Horngate and hated that she had been dragged here against her will through the middle of a magical cataclysm. She hated that she was not allowed to go anywhere, that she had no friends, and that she had nothing to do except work. She was bitter and angry, and somewhere along the line, she had decided that Alexander was the cure for what ailed her. It did not hurt that her mother thought he was evil incarnate.

She did not care that he was not interested or that even though he looked like he was twenty-five, he was really more than a hundred years old. She wanted him, and with the supreme confidence of a beautiful young girl, she had decided she would have him.

Another time, her childish relentless pursuit should have amused him, but now it only infuriated him. He had little patience for anything at the moment. But because she was Max’s niece, he kept himself in check and avoided Tory as much as possible. She had taken to waiting outside for his dawn return, knowing that he could not survive the light of day. She followed him to the dining commons and to his apartment. She refused to accept even the most curt dismissals. Alexander was well aware that the other Blades found his predicament amusing, a fact that only ground his nerves more.

“Not again,” he muttered. His patience was frayed to a thread.

“She’s got a crush on you.”

“She is a menace, and she is going to get hurt.”

Niko’s brows rose. “She’s just a girl. Surely you can handle her.”

“If she pushes much harder in the shape I am in, I could kill her. She drives me nuts. She is worse than a swarm of starving fleas. Just keep her away from me so I do not accidentally kill her. Consider it an order.”

He strode away before Niko could answer. He was just ten feet away from Tory when at last she woke to his presence. She leaped down from her rock, yanking the earbuds from her ears.

“Alex! I’ve been waiting for you. ”

“You should be in bed,” he said, not stopping.

“Hey, wait!”

She reached for his arm, but then Niko was there. He intercepted her hand and pulled her away. “Tory. You’re up late. Can’t you sleep?”

Alexander did not wait for the answer. He broke into a jog, swiftly leaving the other two behind.

Giselle’s quarters were on the south side of the mountain. Outside was a hollowed-out area. It lacked a rug or any furnishings, those having been destroyed in the angels’ battle. The double doors were firmly fixed, having been repaired twice—once just after the attacks and once when Giselle had lost control of her powers and nearly burned the mountain down again.

No one stood guard. Alexander glowered. That had to change. He banged a fist on the polished oak. The sound echoed. He waited a moment, then hammered again. It was another few minutes before Giselle opened the door. She was wrapped in a silk robe, her chestnut hair a shining cascade down her back. Her face was delicately formed, with high cheekbones and a pointed chin. Her blue eyes were relentless and cold.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded.

“I am taking Prime,” Alexander told her, shouldering inside.

She stared, her mouth flattening to a thin white line. “That’s quite a change. What’s your game?”

“The kind that brings Max back,” he told her. His Prime had risen again. His emotions roiled. He looked away from Giselle, his teeth gritting. He wanted to kill her for trading Max to Scooter.

She folded her arms. “How do you figure?”

“You remember I told you that Magpie had given me a prophecy. That she said I would have my heart’s desire and that I would be Prime.”

“I do.”

“You remember there was more to the prophecy that I did not tell you.”

She nodded, her eyes narrowed. Magic gathered around her. He grinned wolfishly. It looked like he was not the only one with control problems. The air in the chamber grew thick with it. “Get to the point.”

“Part of the prophecy has already come true. All that is left is that I be made Prime and I will have my heart’s desire. Since Max is everything I want, then I say we get on with it so we can get her back.”