Shadowglass (18 page)

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 hell 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 scrapes 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 snatches 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 brass 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 hellflame 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 scraping 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 scraping on glass.

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 hell.

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 glass-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,
she’s thinking.
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.”

He points to the stinking, yelling crates. “First, we shall examine our creatures. Then, I shall wash you. Then we can begin our search.”

He bends for her kiss, and this time when he kisses her in return, she doesn’t protest. Her soft lips squash a little under his, warming the seductive taste of rebellion.—
Bite,—
whispers the mirror slyly,—
lick, swallow,—
and a rush of burning blood melts his resolve’s cold shell.

Her fingers shake in his flame-rippled grip, and she fidgets. “Must you wash me, Akash?”

“I like to look at you. I wish to make you even prettier. Don’t you want me to?”

She blinks shyly. “If you wish it.”

She still doesn’t understand. She has her own wishes now. He squeezes her little hands together. “But do you wish it, Indra?”

Confusion clouds her face. He kisses the crease between her brows, and that rebellious taste flares stronger. He smiles, free at last, and tilts her chin up to bring her lips to his.

A shocked moment, and then her warm lips spark alive into a feverish kiss. Akash trembles against her, his body awash with strange needy sensation. She doesn’t taste of flowers and breeze and raindrops, the bright comforting taste of home. She tastes of flesh, hot and glorious, her lips smooth and supple on his, her tongue emerging shyly to rub against his. He sighs into her, sharing their breath, and the little sound she makes in her throat tastes of bewilderment and fresh desire.

But she breaks off, her breath heaving and scarlet flooding high in her cheeks, and avoids his eyes.

He knows now what wanting involves. So easily fed, this need. He reaches for her, his body burning.

But she shakes him off with all her strength. “No, Akash. It is not right. I do not wish it.” Her flushed face tightens in disapproval, and she runs, her footsteps disappearing into the gloom.

“Indra. Return.” He clenches shaking hands and calls out to her, the fairy’s stolen sparks fingering his skin. But she doesn’t turn. She won’t obey him. Something is broken. He hurries after her, out into the dirty alley where broken glass glints orange in fresh sunlight. Hot summer breeze caresses his face as he searches left and right. She’s gone. Hiding. From him.

Akash licks stinging lips, still wet from kissing her. Her taste lingers in his mouth like an accusation. His newfound pride hurts, bruised by her rejection. He could find her, punish her, twist her naughty body to his will, make her hurt and cry and bleed to wash his dignity clean.

The fact that he even thinks that forces a strangled scream of fury from his throat. He whirls and grabs the mirror, ripping it open with a vicious squeeze. The glass glints at him, uncaring, and steals silent black fingers toward his misbegotten soul.

A sly caress inside him, soft and dark like midnight feathers. His will wilts, parched by her absence. What is there, without that perfidious sky? Without her? He is alone. Alone, and lonely.

The mirror cackles, triumphant.

The sound coats his courage in fresh steel. He is not alone. He still has purpose. He will stay in this painbright world that fires his blood, and nothing Shadow can do will stop him. Kane has answers, and Akash will have them. He must.

He wills his stare stronger, his eyes blazing back at him from the glass like sapphire frost. “No. Obey me. I am stronger here. Obey.”

The mirror squirms in the clutches of his death-blue gaze and relents with a petulant snivel.

Impish thing. Defeated, or just giving in for now? Akash frowns. He knows capitulation. He’s been there himself so many times, the reluctant smile, the modest lowering of eyes, the whispered acquiescence in return for freedom.

But no matter. Purpose served.

Akash smiles at his new servant, and flame flickers from his teeth. “Good. Never mind the other creatures for now. Find me the yellow girl.”

The mirror whimpers and obeys.

16

V
ine leaves ruffled on the pine pergola, dappling the afternoon sun pleasantly on my face. The air swarmed with deliciousness, my nose orgasming in a wash of melted butter and coffee and peppery tomato bruschetta. Valentino’s was half-empty, too late for lunch and too early for dinner, and a caramel-eyed waiter winked at me as he glided by between empty linen-draped tables, his tray laden with scones and iced chocolate drinks in tall glasses.

I kicked my feet against the wooden legs of my chair, enjoying sultry summer warmth, and dipped my spoon in the berry ice cream mountain on my plate. Chocolate sauce dribbled down pink slopes, loaded with colored sprinkles, and I caught it with my tongue, dark cocoa sweetness melting into my mouth.
Mmm
. Valentino’s has the best fudge sauce in the whole world.

Across from me, a fat green spriggan with an armload of shopping bags slurped a latte, bubbles frothing out her nose. In the corner, a pair of black-suited trolls muttered and gulped espressos, tusks gleaming and sharp yellow claws digging into the little cups, and next to them a giggling blue air sprite swiveled golden wings and poked his nose into a plate of whipped cream.

Next to me, Indigo reclined in his chair, long denim-clad legs stretched out. The crisp black ends of his hair stuck to his dark cheeks in the heat, and sweat slicked his arms with copper as he scooped up an icy pink blob. His bangle rainbowed in the sun, green and blue swirls flashing. Left arm. Definitely the left.

Summer, ice cream, cute waiters, a date with Indigo. Doesn’t get much better than this.

Except maybe not being chased by gangsters or going insane. But you can’t have everything.

I chewed on a marshmallow, soft sugar popping between my teeth. “So . . . what’s the story on you and this mirror, anyway? You did for Kane already. Whadda you care?”

“You first.” Indigo sucked ice cream from his spoon, his lips gleaming a surreal pink.

Nerves squiggled my blood. I didn’t want to tell him my stupidity. “Why do I have to go first?”

“I asked first.” An errant strawberry blob dribbled down his fingers, and I watched to see what he’d do. The ice cream test. Waste it? Wipe it? Would he be swift and thoughtless, or deliberate?

He ducked and licked the drips up. Slow, sensual, savoring, his dark tongue sliding lovingly over his knuckles and his claws. Not a drop spilt. I squirmed, my damp thighs sticking on the cane. Sweet and dead sexy at the same time.
Great. I’m turned on just watching him eat ice cream.

I swallowed my next mouthful too fast, and my freezing throat ached. “I asked last night. You first.”

He shrugged, crushing chocolate shavings into the plate with his spoon. “Told you. Kane wants it back. You’re lucky he’s not coming after you, magpie girl.”

“Yeah. Guess so.” I recalled Kane’s strange, absent touch and shivered. Indigo picked at a stain on the tablecloth, determined to look at it instead of at me. Did he care that I’d slept with Kane? A little bit jealous, even?

At last his gaze met mine, soft warm gray like rain clouds. “So what’s your story, Ice? Why fence it one day and scrabble after it the next?”

I stuffed more ice cream into my mouth, my teeth protesting with a cold spike into my gums. My voice squelched through a freezing mouthful. “No reason. I realized I got ripped off, that’s all. Quang’s a sneaky little shitball.”

Indigo laughed, silver teeth sharp. “Right. You looked into the glass.”

“Nope.” I gurgled as I swallowed, my throat sore. How did he know? Had he looked, too?

“Did so.”

“Did not.”

“Did so. How’d you know it’s a mirror, if you didn’t open it?”

“Did n—Oh.” He had me there. I sighed. “It’s shiny, okay? You should understand that. I saw a pretty shiny thing and I took it. But it wasn’t as much fun as I thought, so I got rid of it.”

“Don’t believe you. What happened, Ice?”

His gaze didn’t falter, and my spine prickled under his scrutiny. I bristled, mirrorspiked words bubbling up in my throat. “Nothing, okay? Just this stupid guy on the tram, and then I messed up our fortune-telling con because I couldn’t lie, and then there was this vampire and I wanted him to drink me and Kane said he’d make me better if I gave the mirror back and then you came along and pulled that switch on me like you do, nasty one minute and nice the next, and what the hell is it with that anyway, and then Blaze hissed at you and I went with him and we had sex. Three times. In front of Azure. And now she hates me and he avoids me and we owe the Valentis five grand by Friday and Quang’s dead and the DiLucas are chasing me and I’ve ruined my life over a piece of fucking glass. Okay?”

My stomach tied in bulging knots, and sickness threatened to swamp me. Surely he’d despise me more than ever now. Tears slashed at my eyes like acid, and I fumbled them away, dreading the look I’d get from him, that little upturned lip of disgust.

But he just chewed his claw, silvery teeth flashing. “So . . . Kane will cure you if you give it back?”

My strangled heart relaxed, just a little. He wasn’t judging me. I sniffed, stupid gratitude tearing me up all over again. “Yeah. Lucky for me we’re both taking it to the same place, right?”

“Lucky. And Blaze . . . isn’t your boyfriend, then?” He scratched at the tablecloth, like he wasn’t really interested in my answer.

I scraped my face clean with my palm, my throat tight. “No, he’s not my damn boyfriend. He’s not even my friend anymore. Dead grandmothers and incest. Don’t wanna talk about it. Okay?”

I rummaged in my bag for something, anything to do that didn’t involve thinking or looking at him. Diamonds spilled over my sticky fingers. My phone tumbled out, the screen flashing neon with a new text message. I ignored it. Probably Blaze, giving me shit. I wasn’t in the mood.

Coins rolled onto the tablecloth, a couple of bucks at most. Good thing this woolly mammoth–sized sundae was on Indigo. Tissues. A squashed green jelly bean. Can opener. Lipstick, color orange. And amongst the rabid gleam of diamonds, a flash of scarlet-spiked silver.

I stared, and scrabbled the diamonds aside.

Tarnished silver skulls glinted up at me, ruby eyeballs flashing, threaded on a fat spiked chain.

My stalking biker boy’s necklace. Tangled in the diamonds from Quang’s safe.

I recalled the kid’s weird blue eyes, the way he’d smiled at me when I hit him. Like he expected me. Like he’d been listening. Excitement tightened my throat. “Look at this!”

Indigo wrinkled his nose. “Yuck. Bit morbid, isn’t it?”

“It was in my diamonds. I saw a guy wearing it at the Court last night.”

“So?” He dipped up some ice cream and flicked it at me.

Chill stung my cheek. I wiped it off and glared at him. “So, sometime between last night and this morning, he’s swapped it to Quang. How much you reckon it’s worth?”

Water flooded his eyes, and he sniffed, wiping his nose. “Chromium. Stinks like rotten apples. So they’re real rubies. So what? Wanna put all that back in your bag before someone rolls you for it?”

Caution. Boring. Anticipation thinned my pulse, and I bounced up and down in my seat, water droplets spraying. “But what if that guy swapped it for the mirror?”

“Maybe. Coulda swapped it for a couple hundred bucks and a blow job, too. Mosquitoes and chopsticks, Ice. You’re grabbing at anything.”

I scowled, my enthusiasm dented. “Sure, go all superior on me. You got any better ideas?”

Indigo glanced at the coffee-chugging trolls and casually pushed the diamonds toward me without looking. “Cactus up your nose, Ice, will you stop attracting attention?”

My wings bristled. “Why’ve you gotta—?”

A thick hand slammed onto my shoulder. “Nice diamonds, fairy girl. I think they’re mine.”

I gulped at those sharp European consonants. My voice shriveled to a husk. “Sonny . . . I mean, Mr. Valenti. Hi. I was just looking for y—”

“Good of you to bring ’em by.” Sonny loomed over me, his hulking leather-clad shoulders blocking out the sun. Dark, hard-eyed, his mouth thin and stained from too many cigarettes. A bit like his cousin Angelo, without the teeth or the old-world manners. With a permanent case of fire ants up his ass because his self-absorbed and glaringly gay cousin Nino had to die raped in some sordid hotel apartment before Ange would give Sonny Nino’s place as second in charge. Jealous as a shithouse dog because Ange still prefers lizard-ass faeborn confidants to him. And in an eternal bad mood because Ange still won’t give him the other thing he wants, that hellcursed blood infection that makes you last forever.

All of which makes Sonny V one big, ugly, bad-tempered Italian dude.

My excitement bubbled forlornly, lost in smothering dismay. I never get to keep them.

I stole my hand out, but Indigo wrapped his arm around me to hold me back. His whisper warmed my cheek. “Too late. Leave it.”

The fact that he’d warned me only stung my despair harder. I wriggled, helpless. Why’d I have to flash them around like that? At Valentino’s, of all places?

Sonny lifted a fistful of shinies twinkling to the sun, his broad forehead creasing. “Very nice. How much you and your pals owe me again?”

I hate it when they ask questions they already know the answers to. Never bodes well. I swallowed, dry, and firmly pushed Indigo’s arm away. “Five thousand.”

“These’ll be nice, then. Good girl.” That condescending smirk I hated.

I managed a weak smile, faint brightness struggling in my heart even though rage lathered my blood at this forced meekness. At least something good might come of this. He’d leave us alone, at least for a while. “So we’re square, then?”

Sonny stuffed my lost jewels into his pocket and turned away. “Sorry. I can only accept payment in cash. End of the week, darlin’. As before.”

I gaped at his wide black-clad back, indignant. “But that’s not fair!”

Sonny halted.

Indigo’s arm tensed on the table, muscles twisting. Sharp unease sliced my nerves.
Oops.

Sonny turned and pounced on me.

I yelped and jerked backwards, but he was quicker than he looked. He wrapped his fat fingers around my shoulder, his dirty teeth shining an inch from my nose. “Life isn’t fair, fairy girl. Wanna talk about it?”

My shoulder screeched, pain warm and horrid like his coffee-soaked breath. His fingers crushed into my collarbone, and anger flared hotter than the hurt. My rage boiled over, and I swatted at him, claws raking. “Ow! Get off me, you dirty fairy-beating asshole.”

“Umm. Yeah. We were just leaving.” Indigo folded his long hand over mine and squeezed, hard, and the twin pressures made me gasp at my foolishness.

But Sonny shoved me, and I tumbled, ice cream splashing. I scrabbled for Indigo’s hand, but my fingers slipped, and my bony butt bounced on the hard floor, crumpling my wing tips under me. My palms skidded and ripped on sandpapery tiles. “Ow! That hurt! Stupid prick.”

Sonny wiped the hand he’d hurt me with on his pants, and his flat gray eyes gleamed disgusted as he loomed over me. Behind him, the two trolls lumbered up, their suits too tight, big green foreheads shining dully in the sun. They fixed beady little eyes on me and grunted, thudding their scaly fists together.

My skin shrank. I scrambled back a few inches like a frightened crab, banging my head into the latte-swilling spriggan’s chair. Surely they wouldn’t. Not in front of everyone.

But the cream-nose fairy had already crawled away under the tables, and the shop-till-you-drop spriggan sidled from her seat, hairy ears pinned back like a scared dog’s. She scrabbled for her shopping bags and ran out, toeclaws clicking.

Now Valentino’s was empty.

Sonny grinned. “Say you’re sorry.”

At the sight of that supercilious smile, rage lit me up like a flash-bulb.

Memories erupted over my skin like lava. All the times some brainless gangster had threatened me, all the times I’d ever dredged up a false smile and fluttered my lashes when I felt like raking my claws down their smug faces. Every guy who tried to force me, every fae-dissing idiot who ever hit me or teased me or threatened me, pushed me against a wall as they passed or pretended I wasn’t there. Even when I was a little girl, all the times I’d stared wide-eyed at humans, their safe families, their careers, their rich carefree lives, and someone said,
No, darlin’, you can’t ever have that. You’re different. You’re trash. You’re just a silly fae girl. Get back in the dirt where you belong
.

My skin swelled with angry vapor, and mirrorstolen courage ignited my blood like wet phosphorous.

Say I’m sorry?

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

I scrambled to my feet and strode closer, my fists squeezing tight. Indigo hissed a warning and slid knobbed fingers around my wrist, but I shook him off. Years of bottled-up angry words burned like sunfire on my tongue, demanding release. “Damned if I’m sorry. You’re a lousy prick, Sonny, and your ass-licking friends, too. What, too afraid to fight a man? Get a hard-on picking on little girls half your size? Huh? Gonna go home and jerk off?”

Sonny’s smile dissolved. Crimson flushed his face. Behind him, the trolls grumbled and rolled threatening shoulders.