Chaos Burning (31 page)

“I don’t think the Magister comes from a race of storm-like doom-villains.”

He laughed and took her hand. “You make me laugh at the oddest times. No, I’ve never heard of any plane of existence that was home to storm beings. Though I’m not entirely convinced it will look like a storm. It’s old language and cuneiform you’re reading. Metaphor is more likely the culprit than an actual storm.”

“Which would probably be why we didn’t see it in the satellite weather scans.”

“Old magicks are often thought of as formless unless given an intent to form in some way. The Wild Hunt is similar. Across different groups of Fae and others on my side of the Veil the Wild Hunt can be an actual hunt with dogs and horses and riders. But it’s also been described as a tornado-like storm, a roiling blurred cloud of magick that erases everything in its path. We frame reality with our perceptions. I’m just cautioning you to remember that there are things older than this planet out there and they’re not always going to be easy to explain in terms you’d understand.”

“It’s easy sometimes to forget you’re six hundred years old. But you keep me grounded, Simon. Thank you. It’s a good reminder to stop applying a lens that isn’t necessary accurate to something. I want to understand it. I want to know why it’s doing this so I can find it. That’s how I work.”

“We’ll find it. I think it’s fine to think of it as a storm if that’s what works for you. And we know what it’s doing. The Others being kidnapped are being used to bolster his power to bring it here fully. Whether that’s to overcome a spell that’s locked it out of this plane of existence or whatever, we know why it’s doing this.”

“Well, partially. What does it plan when it fully manifests?”

And suddenly another male sat in the car with them and Lark found herself backed up against the door, ready for a fight.

“It seeks to cleanse.”

Simon cursed. “You can’t just jump into a moving car. I could have gotten into an accident. Lark, this is Erick Trier. Your petition to speak with the Fae has been granted.”

She relaxed, now fascinated by their visitor.

“I don’t have a lot of time. I tried your home, but you weren’t there and the wards kept me out. Nicely done.” The big Fae turned to Lark. “We’ve called for all our brothers and sisters living here to return to our side of the Veil. The Magister is not a threat to take lightly. The last time we encountered it was twenty thousand years ago, give or take a few hundred. We lost tens of thousands of our kin. Our records are not very detailed, though we have a few Fae still around who were there. It’s still secondhand because those who survived had gone into hiding or were locked inside a safe place working on ways to vanquish it.”

Of course Simon kept driving like it was every day a Faerie just showed up inside his car. “So it’s bad enough to kill the most powerful beings we know of. Bad enough that you’re calling your people back. Will you seal the way then?”

“If the Magister manifests itself here, we will seal the way.”

“You can’t! Erick, the humans will need help. You can give it to them.”

“I’ve made that argument already. As have many others,
including the queen. But there is much fear. Too much, I’m afraid, to get a majority of votes to help. Some Fae are staying here and you can expect help from them if and when a war begins. I will be among them. I’m rushing back and forth to take care of my affairs back in tir na nOg.”

“Thank you.” Lark nodded. “We’ll take all the help we can get. How did you stop it? Was it force? Was it a spell? What?”

“The records say there was one last fierce battle. Many had died that day. There was a last stand of sorts. The Fae warriors there had united to repel the Magister. And then it was gone, along with the Fae on the battlefield.”

Lark snapped her fingers. “By manifest you mean the Magister is not here on this plane? It’s somewhere else until it gets strong enough to break through?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. Smart one, your little witch. Once it gets the power it needs, it will tear the way open and come through.”

“Why? What does it want?”

“You’re never going to be satisfied if you keep thinking in this way.”

Simon agreed.

“Tell me how then. My job is to figure people out, why they do things and then I find them and deal with it. I can’t do that if I don’t even know why this thing is trying to break into our world.”

“It’s not something you can wrap your mind around. The Magister is chaos. Older than even I can imagine and I’m far, far older than you are. It doesn’t care about money or weaponry. You can’t reason with it. It has a purpose, but we may never fully understand it. I just know it cleanses. Burns holy clarity with no regard to good or evil or anything like that. It’s not here to work through an ancient vengeance or revenge.”

“So I’m told. Anything else you can tell me?”

“I know you’ll have a better chance at stopping it if you prevent it from manifesting fully. Don’t look upon it if it does though. My queen wanted me to make this very clear. Do not look upon the Magister or you will be lost. I’ll be in touch, as will others who can help if you have a need.”

She tipped her chin slightly in appreciation.

Erick paused. “May I give you a piece of advice?”

“Yes.”

“I can see you’re driven by the need to know. Which is a good quality. But sometimes you have to accept that some things can’t be understood in a traditional sense. You’re a witch. You know some things just
are
. I don’t know that the Magister is something you can solve like another sort of being.”

And he was gone, leaving them alone in the car as Simon began driving up the hill to his place.

Chapter 26

SHE
was all business as she stood in his garage and looked at his equipment. “I don’t think we need all this stuff.” She touched the sleeping bag with the tip of her boot. “Don’t need the tent.”

“I’ll carry all that.”

She turned, outrage on her face. “No, you won’t! I can carry my own gear.” Clearly agitated and worried, she began to pace. “We need to be fast. We should be going right now.”

“Going right now is not only foolish, it won’t help Nell. It’s dark. You can’t track in the dark. And you’ve just spent a lot of energy and magick on those goons you interrogated. You need to change your clothes and eat a real meal before we go anywhere.”

“I can snuggle up against you.” She turned and he caught the fear on her face. The fear she’d fail.

He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. “You’ll find her.”

“What if I don’t? How do I tell William his wife won’t be coming home and the nursery they’ve decorated will remain empty? Huh?” She started to cry and it filled him with
befuddled tenderness. She didn’t cry. She was one of those people who always seemed so confident.

He tipped her chin up and kissed her. “You won’t have to. But if you do, pixie, if you do it’s because you tried your hardest and it still didn’t work out. Please. Come inside, change your clothes. You’ve got blood all over your dress. You need to eat. I’ve tracked for most of my life. Please trust me. It’ll only help if you take some time right now. You’ll be glad of it later. You’re tired and spent and you need to refuel. You miss things when you hie off without being prepared. We can do nothing for a few hours. It’ll take us some time to drive up there, but we can’t take the chance of missing something from the main road because it’s too dark. You’re exhausted. You’re hungry. You need to rest and prepare. Then we’ll go. An hour and a half and we’ll go. If you rush now, you could miss something important.”

“I do trust you.” Her bottom lip trembled and big, fat tears made her eyes glossy.

“Baby, I want to help you. I can’t stand seeing you like this.” He picked her up and she hugged him tight, wrapping herself around him as he carried her into the house and toward his bathroom. “Let me help you.” He turned the shower on and unbuttoned the front of her dress. Each tiny heart shaped button slid from the hole and exposed the skin below. His beast filled him to the skin, pressing tight. The scent of magick, of his and hers, hung in the air.

“I need you. I’m afraid, Seymeon.”

That was more than he could stand. The sound of his given name on her lips, threaded with fear and so much sadness.

He pushed the dress from her shoulders and bent to pull the boots off before divesting her of the bloody tights. She stood there, all his, looking at him with nothing but desire and trust. Trust that he’d make her all right and he swore that if it was the last thing he did, he’d live up to her expectations.

Her panties, a barely-there scrap of red, hit the floor as she held her hand out. “I need to be clean. Before…”

He spoke to her in a language she didn’t understand. A language of his people and one he rarely used here on this side of the Veil. But she didn’t need to know the exact words to understand him and what he meant.

She’d never allowed herself to truly need anyone before. She’d relied on her wits and her family of course. But not so much since the bust up with Helena. And never, ever like this.

He cleaved to her. An old-fashioned term, but so totally appropriate. He sheltered her and respected her and even when he bossed her around, he never crossed the line.

He made her feel as if she could stumble and the world wouldn’t end. But of course it would.

If she failed, the world could very well end and it loomed over her again.

As if he’d plucked it from her head he pressed his lips to her temple. “You’re not alone. I’ll catch you if you fall. It’s part of the job of loving someone.”

That was it. The first sob came as he pulled her under the spray and she let the tears go. She cried as she soaped up the big scrubby thing. From his fingertips up she caressed and washed, kneaded and touched. Each finger, his wrists, the forearm and elbows. She concentrated on him, on touching him so that she could manage the fear before it choked her.

She knew he wanted to make her better. Knew it was hard for him to see her cry. But he let her do it. Which meant something. It meant that he
knew
her. Understood she needed to get it all out so she could move past it.

That scared her more than the Magister did. But it was the kind of fear you had when something monumental and wonderful was involved. She kept telling herself she’d let him all the way in when she was able to fully wrap her head around this thing they had.

But it was a sham. There was no
letting
this man into her heart. He was there. Six hundred years old or not. Whether he dumped her, or whether he was way more experienced and knowledgeable about the world, the imbalance wasn’t enough to hold him outside her heart.

She scrubbed his back, kneading his muscles, not failing to cop a feel of that rock-hard ode to creation of an ass of his. And then he turned, pressing her to the warm tile at her back.

“I need you, Seymeon.” She loved his name, loved using it in the intimate moments between them.

“I’m all yours.” His hands roamed as he soaped her and she
arched, remembering how good it was between them. Remembering the way he made her feel with just a simple breath of a touch.

“When you soften for me this way, what a gift you give me.
You’re
a gift, Lark. So delightful and strong.” He kneaded her muscles as she slid his hands up one of her arms.

And then to her breasts. Kneading more softly, but she knew he was there. Knew he demanded everything of her and that he deserved it.

“Clever. Canny, in fact. You have to break everything down to understand it and then you make it into a weapon. You’re vicious and bloodthirsty and I’ve never in my life seen anything more magnificent than you.”

Crying again, only this time for joy, she moved close enough to tiptoe up and grab his hair to haul him in for a kiss.

“I love you,” she whispered into his mouth and he swallowed it, groaning as he slid his hands around to cup her ass and haul her closer.

“I love to hear you say my given name. I love the scent of your skin as it warms, the perfume of my woman wanting me. And I love you too.”

He picked her up rather easily, bringing her breasts to his mouth and licking over her nipples as he continued to speak. Half in English, half in Lycian. It poured from him like a tribute, washing over her, making her feel like a queen that this man should be brought to such poetry because of her.

“No one has ever made me feel the way you do,” she murmured as he brought a shiver with the edge of his teeth.

He growled in that way and held her tighter, his fingers splayed across her back, holding her in place. She knew he wouldn’t drop her. Not in any way. The fierceness that evoked in her brought even more desperate need to be possessed by this male, in the way only he could provide.

“You taste better than anything I’ve ever licked.” To underline his point he licked the side of her breast, his gaze locked with hers. Normally she’d suggest he give it a try in other places, but there was nothing more she needed, wanted, than to have him in her.

“Fuck me.”

His grin went very, very wicked. “I’m getting to that.”

“Not fast enough!” She writhed, the slickness of skin to skin making the need burn hotter.

“You need to be ready. I’d be a cad if I just shoved myself into you if I wasn’t sure you were nice and slick.”

Every word in her brain just sort of went away for a few seconds.

And then he slid her down just enough to bring his fingertips through her, testing that slickness, which she could have told him about had he not said all that hot stuff and made her stupid with desire.

He pressed then, the fat, wide head of his cock against her, sliding in bit by bit.

It was deliberate, this erotic torture.

“I’m a patient male, you know this,” he said, holding her still as she tried to move down on him farther, faster, to take him deeper. “I know what I’ll be getting so very soon. Let me enjoy it. Let me help you enjoy it. Hold your horses, pixie, and I’ll make you feel good.”

“I already do feel good,” she gasped as he got just a little deeper.