Richelle Mead Dark Swan Bundle: Storm Born, Thorn Queen, Iron Crowned & Shadow Heir (15 page)

I muttered another incantation to Hecate and felt the power shoot up again. The spirit who had thrown me drifted forward. The gates swung open, and I banished it away. Moments later, its injured counterpart followed. That left two.

One of them swooped in, reaching out for me. I ducked past it, hitting the floor, where I half-crawled and half-rolled out of its grasp. My connection to the Otherworld had slipped again; I needed it back. I kept ordering myself to focus, but then I saw my mom lying in the corner. I couldn't get past that. I went after the spirit again, and it hissed angrily as the athame dug into its upper body. I was sloppy, however, and gave one of its hands the opening to grab my wand hand and shove me against the wall. The wand fell to the floor. A moment later, the spirit's other hand twisted my other wrist until I dropped the athame as well. The last spirit floated up and added to the wall around me. Walls were really starting to piss me off lately.

They had me now, trapped and defenseless and injured. I didn't know what exactly they could do, however. Earlier they'd worried about killing me, yet they could have no romantic interest in me. What could they—

My patio door opened, and an elemental walked in. An elemental made of mud, of all things. Its body was very solid, very human, and very male. Oozing, brown-gray sludge dripped off it and onto my carpet.

I renewed my futile efforts to break from the spirits. Volusian's words came back to haunt me.
More organized attacks.
The spirits couldn't have sex with me, but the elemental gentry could. It had sent its minions to subdue me first. Clever.

“Where are the others?” asked the elemental, an almost comic look of astonishment on his face as he glanced around the room.

“She banished them, master,” whispered one of the spirits.

“You really are lethal, aren't you?” The elemental approached. “I hadn't believed the stories. I thought sending these six was overkill. Still. I guess even you have your limits.”

I sneered at him. “Don't talk to me about limits. You can't even cross to this world in full form.”

A look of displeasure crossed that dripping, muddy face. Power was a matter of pride among the gentry. His inability to cross over fully was probably a sore point. Raping me was undoubtedly a way of compensating for all sorts of deficiencies.

“It won't matter,” he said. “Once I beget Storm King's heir, all gentry will pass into this world, smiting the race of humans.”

“Okay, Mr. Old Testament. I can't honestly believe you just used ‘beget' and ‘smiting' in the same sentence.”

“So brave and brash. Yet it won't—ow!”

I couldn't free my upper body, but the elemental was close enough that I flipped my lower body upward and kicked him. I'd been aiming for the groin, just like with the Gray Man, but caught his thigh instead. The guarding spirit restrained my legs.

The elemental narrowed his eyes. “You make things difficult. This would be far easier on you if you would submit.”

“Don't hold your breath.”

“She will submit, master,” intoned a spirit. “Her mother lies there on the floor.”

I stiffened in the spirit's grip. “Don't touch her.”

The elemental turned and walked toward where my mother had fallen. Almost gently, he leaned down and picked her up in his arms. “She's still alive.”

“Leave her alone, you bastard!” I screamed. I strained so hard, it felt like my arms would tear from my shoulders.

“Let her go,” ordered the elemental.

“Master—”

“Let her go. She will not do anything, because she knows if she so much as steps in this direction”—the muddy hand slid up to my mom's throat, leaving a dirty trail wherever he moved—“then I will snap her neck.”

The spirits released me. I did not move.

“I'm going to kill you,” I said. My voice was hoarse from the choking and screaming. “I'll tear you to pieces before I send you to hell.”

“Unlikely. Not if you want this one to live. Come,” he said to one of his servants. “Take her.” There was a tradeoff, and now a spirit held my mother. “If Odile Dark Swan so much as looks threatening, kill this woman.”

“Odile Dark Swan always looks threatening.” The spirit spoke in a deadpan, nonsarcastic voice. Apparently this elemental's minions had as good a sense of humor as my own.

“You know what I mean,” snapped the elemental. He came closer to me, so only a few inches separated us. “Now. I will let you live. I will let your mother live. All you have to do is not fight me while I do what I've come here to do. When I am finished, we will depart in peace. Do you understand?”

Anger and fury were raging in me, and I could feel tears burning at the edges of my vision. I wanted to reach out and claw his eyes. I wanted to kick between his legs until no one could tell if he was male anymore. I wanted to deliver him to Persephone in a pile of body parts.

But I was scared. So scared that if I even blinked wrong, they'd break my mother. She already hung uselessly in the spirit's arms like a rag doll. For all I knew, she could have been dead, but something told me she wasn't. I couldn't gamble if she might be alive.

So I nodded in acknowledgment to the elemental and felt one of the tears leak out of my eye as I did.

“Good.” He exhaled, and I realized he was as scared of me as I was of him. “Now. Undress.”

Bile rose in my throat. I couldn't get enough oxygen again; it was like the air was thick and heavy around me. Another tear stole from my eye, and I slowly pulled down the pajama pants, removing the gun I hadn't been able to use. It occurred to me briefly that I could probably manage to shoot the elemental right now, but I wouldn't be fast enough to save my mother.

What did it matter? If he was telling the truth, I would still live if I could only endure this. I was on the pill. I probably wouldn't actually get pregnant. I'd only have to lay there passively while this big anthropomorphic pile of dirt had his way with me. Things could be worse. Probably.

I looked at him, imagining those hands on me. The air grew thicker to me, making it still harder to breathe. The lighting seemed darker, as it had when the spirit choked me, and I wondered if I was going to faint. Maybe it'd be easier that way. Less to remember.

“The rest,” he said impatiently. He too was breathing heavily.

I moved my fingers to the edges of my underwear. I had dressed for comfort in plain, gray cotton bikini-cuts. They were nice but not sexy. They didn't match the pink top. Of course, it didn't matter to the elemental what I wore. Naked desire glowed on his face. I stared at the lumpy, misshapen body and worked hard not to whimper. I knew what I had to do, but I didn't want to. Oh, God. Oh, Selene. I didn't want him to touch me. I didn't want him pressed up against me. Nausea rolled up in my stomach, and I wondered desperately where Kiyo was. I knew he couldn't follow me 24/7, and I suddenly regretted my snide comments about his protection. I wished he were here now. I needed him. I'd never felt so defenseless in my life, not even in that long-lost memory. It was not a state of mind I liked.

As I was about to pull the panties down, a slap of wood on glass made all of us jump. The elemental jerked his head around, and I followed his gaze. The patio door was open, and the wind had blown in, knocking over a picture frame on my coffee table. It was a strong wind, one that kept blowing, scattering papers and other objects around. Yet, outside, the sunshine and azure skies of late spring reflected no such disturbance.

“What…?” began the elemental.

That sharp sound had sort of snapped me out of my anger and fear, and I was suddenly able to notice details more sharply. I could see everything with a new clarity. The air really was thick, the lighting truly darker. I hadn't imagined those things. The angry wind rose and fell with my breathing. Brilliant light slashed the dimness, and we all cried out as it danced around from object to object. At the same time, a deafening roar of thunder filled the room, too big and too loud for the small space. I covered my ears and dropped to the floor.

The elemental turned on me. “Make it stop.”

“What…?”

“It's yours! Stop, or you'll kill us all.”

I looked around and realized he was right. I couldn't explain it, but I was connected to everything going on in there. The building moisture and humidity. The wind whipping around, scattering things. The electricity charging the air.

I could feel it, but I didn't know what to do with it.
You're mine,
I tried telling it, but nothing happened. This was not like trying to control power with a wand or an athame. This was both within me and outside of me. I could no more stop it than I could stop myself from feeling joy or sorrow or hate.

The wind increased, its fury building. A jagged piece of glass flew into my cheek. “I can't control it,” I whispered. “I can't.”

The elemental looked panicked. So did the spirits. Whereas a moment ago I had felt weak and defenseless, their fear made mine go away. Their fear fed my anger, and I fed the building tempest. I couldn't actually control the storm, but it was expanding out from me. Something else hit me in the shoulder, and moments later, I barely dodged a book flying toward my head.

I couldn't control this. I didn't know how. I didn't know anything except that I wanted to live and I wanted my mother to live too.

Darkness swirled around us all as great billowing clouds filled the room. More lightning danced around, oblivious to where it traveled. The elemental was right. I would kill one of—

Lightning shot out at the spirit holding my mother, forcing her to fall to the ground. He screamed and screamed. It was the most horrible sound I'd ever heard. It was more than a death knell, more than a tortured cry. I covered my ears again, watching as he glowed blindingly bright, then went black, then was nothing.

The elemental backed away from me, fear palpably rolling off of him. A tingle along my skin told me what he was going to do. He was so scared, he was going to try to cross back to the Otherworld. Right here, right now, with no crossroads. Doing so had nearly ripped me apart. There was no way he could do it, not when he couldn't even transition to this world in his natural form.

He didn't seem to care, however, and suddenly I panicked. What if he could? What if by some miracle he escaped? I couldn't let him get away, not after what he'd done here, not after what he'd tried to do. My need, my anxiety…both grew, but I had no way to focus them. I had no idea what had happened to my weapons in this madness. A bolt of lighting blew apart a speaker beside me, and the sound made that ear go deaf.

More lightning flared, so strongly and rapidly that I couldn't tell what was real and what was an afterimage. Somewhere, over the thunder, I heard the elemental screaming, although I could no longer see him. It wasn't as horrible as the spirit's cries had been, but it still made my skin crawl. Lightning hit something else beside me, and sharp pieces of whatever it was flew into my arm.

I was going to die, I realized. With the spirit. With the elemental. With my mother. Who would have thought the spirits I'd just banished to the Otherworld would be the lucky ones?

I buried my face in my hands, trying to block out what I'd created. It didn't help. It was almost like the lightning and clouds existed in my mind as much as in the room. I squeezed my eyes tighter, so much so that they hurt. But nothing changed. The wind roared against me, the thunder shook my house. Dominating it all was the darkness—and the light—as the thunder and lightning came and went.

Darkness, light.

Darkness, light.

Darkness.

I don't care how old you get or how tough you are. Nothing, nothing at all, can ever replace your mother taking care of you when you're sick.

The feel of a cool, wet cloth touched my head, and the sound of familiar humming just barely penetrated my weary brain. I opened my eyes and saw the same funny-shaped pieces of sunlight cast through my blinds onto the bedroom ceiling. Only this time, their positions had changed, their colors dimmer and darker orange.

The humming abruptly stopped.

“Eugenie?”

“Mom,” I croaked. My throat felt torn and raw.

She moved into my field of vision, face drawn with worry. I couldn't believe it. She looked almost entirely normal. Her hair had a bit of a wind-swept look, and I could see a few bruises. Other than that, she seemed fine, not like she'd just endured a paranormal attack and subsequent magically induced maelstrom. For just a moment, I questioned my own memories. Had I imagined what happened? Had it been a trick or a vision? No. I felt like shit. No delusion could have caused this pain.

“You're okay?” I asked doubtfully.

She nodded. “Fine. What about you?”

I tentatively attempted to make contact with the muscles in my body. They told me to leave them the fuck alone.

“I hurt.”

She adjusted the cloth on my head, making it fractionally more perfect. As she leaned over, a lock of her hair slipped forward, and I made out muddy fingerprints on her neck. No. Definitely not my imagination.

“I called Roland. He was up in Flagstaff with Bill. He's on his way back now—should be here in a couple of hours.”

“Mom…how'd you recover?”

“What do you mean?”

“You were really messed up from those spirits. Don't you remember?”

“I got a little shaken up but nothing worse. Nothing like you.” She frowned, giving a little sigh. “God, how I wish you were a lawyer instead. Or maybe a pharmacist.”

“What do you remember happening?”

“Not much,” she admitted. “I remember going after one of those…creatures. After that, it's a blur. I must have panicked. Your living room is, uh, going to need some help.”

I closed my eyes, feeling tired. My living room would probably need to be bulldozed and rebuilt from scratch. No telling how the rest of the house had fared. It could probably collapse at any moment. My room actually looked kind of normal. A few things were knocked over, probably casualties of stray gusts of wind.

“You've got people here who want to see you.”

I opened my eyes. “Who?”

“No one I know. A man and a woman.”

“Is the man a fox?”

She stared at me, confused. “A fox? He's very handsome, yes, but, sweetie…maybe I should send them away. You don't sound like you're better yet.”

“No, no, let me talk to them.” I had a feeling the missing pieces of what had happened during and after the storm lay with Kiyo. “And I need to talk to them…alone.”

My mother looked hurt.

“It's not personal. It's business.”

She started to argue, then shook her head and stood up. “I'll go get them.”

While she was gone, I dared a hasty assessment of my appearance. I was still in my underwear and camisole. The top in particular was ripped and dirty. I pulled the covers up almost to my neck and ran a hand over my hair and face. I could feel more dirt on my skin plus a scab on my cheek, distantly reminding me of a shard of something flying out and cutting me. My hair stuck out everywhere. I attempted to smooth it down, but then my mom returned with Kiyo and a strange woman.

“I'll be in the kitchen if you need me,” Mom said protectively. She pulled the door closed behind her, all but a crack.

Kiyo's face told me all I needed to know about the way I looked.

“You should see the other guy,” I said.

A small smile broke over his face. “I did. He's in pieces in the other room.”

“Oh.”

He beckoned to the woman. “Eugenie, this is Maiwenn, queen of the Willow Land.”

I started in surprise. She didn't look like a Willow Queen. Of course, I'm not sure what exactly I expected—maybe something akin to Glinda the Good Witch. But this woman looked like Surfer Girl Barbie. Her skin glowed with a deep bronze tan. Platinum blond hair fell in supermodel waves to her waist. Her eyes were the color of the sea in the sun, blue-green with long lashes. She wore a simple blue dress, a bit old-fashioned but nothing that screamed, “I'm a fairy queen.” It was looser than the form-fitting gowns other gentry women seemed to favor but was still quite pretty. My feelings of inadequacy about my appearance increased tenfold.

“Nice to meet you,” I said. I could hear the tentativeness in my voice. Kiyo might swear to her character, but I still carried a lot of apprehension around the gentry, monarch or no.

“And you,” she said. Her voice was rich and sweet, her face serene. “I'm sorry I could not heal you too.”

“‘Too'? Oh…was it you? Did you heal my mother? She doesn't remember anything….”

She nodded. “I didn't have the power to heal you both. She was more severely injured, and with your age and stamina—and your blood—well, I thought you'd have an easier time recovering.”

I thought about the aches and pains shooting through my body. Easier? That might be a subjective term.

“You made the right choice. Thanks. I'll be fine.”

Kiyo stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall. “Eugenie doesn't like to admit weakness. It's one of her more charming traits.”

I shot him a glare, and Maiwenn offered a small, polite smile. “Nothing wrong with that.” She approached me and extended a hand toward my face. “I think I have enough strength for a small healing. May I?”

I nodded, not entirely sure what I was agreeing to.

Her fingertips grazed my cheek, icy cold but gentle. A tingle ran through me, and she drew back, suddenly looking pale and tired. Kiyo started to help her when she stumbled, but she waved him off. “There. No scarring this way.” My fingers examined the place she had touched. No more scab.

“Thank you.” Silence fell, and I looked from face to face. With me in bed and them hanging around so casually, I didn't really feel like I was having a meeting with a bona fide queen. It was all so informal. “What happened?”

They exchanged uncertain glances. “We're not really sure,” he said. “You and your mother were both unconscious. The elemental was dead, and your living room…it looks kind of bad.”

“But…that was it?”

His eyebrows rose. “What more could there be?”

“There was no storm when you showed up?”

They exchanged conspiratorial looks again, and something about their solidarity rankled me.

“Tell us what you remember,” Maiwenn said.

I did, starting with the spirit attack and ending with the vicious storm.

Neither spoke when I finished. Kiyo sighed.

“What?” I demanded. “What happened? You obviously know.”

“It's complicated.”

“Everything's complicated lately. Let me guess. It was the magic, wasn't it? Storm King's inherited power?”

He didn't answer. She did.

“Yes. It seems it has been passed down after all.”

“Can I stop it? Keep it locked up so it doesn't come out again?”

“Not likely. You might be able to bury it so it isn't consciously used, but…if it's there, it's likely to burst out again when your emotions let loose. You'll get the same kind of disastrous results if you don't learn to manage it.”

“I don't want it.” I shuddered, recalling that horrible blackness and deadly lightning. Uneasily, I remembered what Volusian had told me, that embracing my magic could protect me and those I loved. I looked at Maiwenn nervously, hating what I was about to ask. “But I don't want to hurt anyone either. Can you teach me to use it? Or at least control it?”

Kiyo's eyes widened. “Eugenie, no—”

“What do you expect me to do?” I demanded. The expression on his face mirrored what I felt inside. “It's not like I want to do this. But you saw what happened. I destroyed my house, and worse, I nearly killed my mother. And myself.”

He sighed but didn't argue. Maiwenn regarded him calmly.

“She's right.”

“I know. But I don't have to like it.”

“I don't know if I can teach you or not,” she murmured, turning back to me. “Your magic—storm magic—is a very physical, outward sort of power. Healing is more internal. Less aggressive. Some of the basics will be the same, but we'll probably have to find you a teacher with similar powers.”

Like someone who can call up pieces of the earth and rip castles apart,
I thought. I didn't give voice to that. Kiyo and I might be “friends,” but I immediately knew he wouldn't like me getting close to Dorian.

“Kiyo says you're against the invasion thing, that you weren't a supporter of Storm King.”

“Yes. That was part of the reason I wanted to meet you. I'm happy you survived today, Eugenie Markham, but…this possibility of the prophecy coming true alarms me. I've spent years believing Storm King had no children. Your existence causes all sorts of complications.”

It occurred to me then that Maiwenn might have slept easier if I'd been killed today.

“So is it true?” she asked. “You have no intention of fulfilling the prophecy?”

“Of course not.”

“Turning one's back on such power can't be easy. Even now, you're considering his magic.”

“That's a necessity. I don't want it. Besides, none of this is about power. It's about keeping my world safe. You forget that until a few weeks ago, I had no clue about any of this. In most ways—me whipping up a storm aside—I still consider myself human. I'm not going to let some army subjugate or destroy my race.”

“You see?” Kiyo said to her. “I told you.”

I could still see the doubt on her face.

“I'm serious. I don't want to usher in some terrible era of gentry domination. I sure as hell don't want to be a plaything for every gentry guy. And even if the worst happens”—I shuddered, remembering the elemental's proximity—“well, there are ways of making sure I don't actually get or stay pregnant.” I didn't feel like getting into logistics with her. “Hopefully, I can just keep up the avoidance, though. I'm not jumping into anyone's bed soon.”

Sympathy replaced Maiwenn's doubt. “Yes. I'm truly sorry for what you've endured. It sickens me. I honestly can't imagine it. You've surpassed your fearless reputation. I couldn't have coped so bravely.”

I thought again about the terror that had filled me when the elemental had me trapped. The tears. The desperation. I didn't know how brave I'd really been.

Kiyo's eyes met mine then, and while Maiwenn looked distracted with thought, I think he might have glimpsed a little of my emotion. Affection for me burned on his face, and I fell into it. The moment shattered when a loud voice sounded outside my room.

“What the fuck happened in here? No way am I cleaning this up!”

Kiyo straightened up, alarmed, but I waved away his concern. “Don't worry. It's just my housemate.”

Sure enough, Tim burst in, outrage written all over him. He wore buckskin pants and a matching vest over his bare chest. Feathers decorated his black hair. Beads ringed his neck. His face fell as soon as he saw me.

“Oh God, Eug. Are you all right?”

I started to give him the “other guy” line, then opted for simplicity. “Fine.”

He jerked his thumb behind him. “That room's in pieces.”

“I know. Don't worry. I'll clean it up.”

“What happened?”

“You're better off not knowing. Tim, this is Kiyo and Maiwenn.”

Remembering himself, Tim raised his right hand in a sort of “How, white man” kind of way. “I am Timothy Red Horse. May the Great Spirit smile down upon you.” This latter part seemed to be for Maiwenn in particular. She smiled formally. Kiyo appeared to oscillate between hilarity and disgust.

Greetings done, Tim walked over to me, shaking his head ruefully. “You're into some crazy shit.”

“You might want to find another place to stay,” I said seriously. “I don't think it'll be safe around here.”

“Are you kidding? I'm never going to find this good a deal. What's a little death and destruction?”

“Tim—”

His face sobered. “Don't worry, Eug. I know what you do. If things heat up, I'll get out.”

“Did you see the living room? That's pretty hot.”

“Yeah, but so long as the house is standing…”