Shadow Reaper (Shadowlands Series) (28 page)

I wanted to deny that anything had happened. I even opened my mouth to do just that, but something stopped me, some gut instinct that told me to just leave it. Let him believe I’d had sex with Daemon. Why? I guess I didn’t want him thinking there was going to be anything between him and me. I knew I couldn’t be held on to like that. I didn’t want that. I didn’t need that kind of commitment. I’d come to save Bernie and found he’d saved himself. Instead, I was saving Daemon, who I’d put in danger and afterwards . . . afterwards I needed to find a way to save my people. I sensed that with Bernie it would never be simple. Never just sex, and yes, my Clay voice was right. On some level I’d known how he felt about me. I wouldn’t exploit that.

A gong sounded and the crowd went silent.

Brialla began to speak in the Infernan language. I didn’t have a clue what she was saying, so I focused on her voice, husky and smoky and at total contradiction to her appearance. She finished speaking, inclined her head, her lips pouting prettily and then melted into the crowd.

“What the hell?” I said.

“Wait for it.”

A Hellion in some kind of velvet uniform approached us and whispered something in Bernie’s ear. Bernie inclined his head and the Hellion slipped away.

I quirked a brow.

“Wait here. Do not move. I’ll be back for you.” Then he was gone, leaving me in the centre of a crowd of nobles, in a sea filled with a language I didn’t understand. Man, I felt awkward.

I caught them staring, curious, and yes, some looked hungry for sex or my flesh—I wasn’t sure which. I made a point to not look directly at any one of them, doing my best impression of Daemon, fixing my eyes on a point somewhere over a shoulder or just beyond an ear and then suddenly, just like that, the feeling of being watched by the hordes morphed into an intense focus, the kind that comes from the specific regard of a single entity. I sensed him before he moved into my field of vision. Tall, broad shouldered, yet not bulky like Bernie or Daemon. No, this guy was all lean muscle and smug smoulder. His inky black hair was swept across his forehead, unkempt yet sexy. It brushed the tips of his ears and curled at the nape of his neck, but it was his eyes that captivated me. Cerulean blue. A wave of déjà vu washed over me and then was gone.

By the time I got it together, he was standing right in front of me, staring down at me with this smug little smile on his face. “Well, well, fancy seeing you here.”

“Huh?”

He grinned, showcasing perfectly even, white teeth. “Oh yes, how could I forget . . .”

I waited for him to continue, but he just kept giving me that smile. Maybe he was messed up in the head or something, or maybe he thought I was someone else?

“I don’t know you,” I said.

“Not yet.” His eyes did this strange light-up-from-within thing and gave me a good sweeping over—greedy eyes, hungry eyes that made me break out in goose bumps. I shivered and rubbed my arms.

The greedy eyes immediately stopped with the devouring.

“You’re cold.”

“No, just freaked out by the way you’re looking at me.”

“And how is that?”

“Like I’m some kind of exotic dessert.”

He licked his lips, cocked his head, and then a knowing smile unfurled on his perfect mouth. I had to look away, that smile was too intimate, so I did the whole “I’m waiting for someone” act by glancing about the room, anywhere but at him. His deep chuckle tickled my senses.

“You don’t belong here, among these creatures.” He spat the final word as if it were too disgusting to hold on his tongue.

“Aren’t you one of these . . . creatures?” I met his eyes and folded my arms across my chest.

He simply smiled an enigmatic smile which immediately got my back up because I hated not knowing. Enigma sucked unless I was the one doling it out, but then I reminded myself that I didn’t have to stand here talking to him. I made to turn away, but he stopped me with a gentle touch to the elbow, just above the long gloves that covered my hands and forearms. It sent a shiver up my spine and had the desired effect of halting me in my tracks.

“I apologise. Please, don’t leave. You have no idea how refreshing it is to meet someone with a little depth at one of these events.”

“You just met me, how do you know I have depth?”

“I’m a good judge of character.” His gaze swept the air around me. “You’re human, far from home. Too far it seems. So, what are you doing here?”

Okay, I hadn’t thought up a cover story. I didn’t think I’d need one.

“My business is none of yours.”

The damned smile again. He raised his hands and wiggled his fingers in the air. “Secrets? Oooo, do tell.”

“Er . . . no.” Where the hell was Bernie? I craned my neck to search in the direction he’d gone, but my view was blocked by nobles—large, drunk nobles who were laughing raucously: two males and two females. They had a female Hellion trapped in a circle and were taking turns prodding and pinching her. The female spun this way and that, trying to avoid being poked. I couldn’t see her face, it was obscured by her dark hair, but I heard her sharp inhalation of pain and then a short sob. The nobles laughed harder, and I took a step toward the group, intent on stopping their sadistic game, but an arm shot out, blocking my route.

I glared into those startling blue eyes. “Move.”

“Bad idea.”

“Maybe, but it’s my idea.”

His eyes narrowed as if contemplating something, and then he lowered his arm. “Goodbye, feisty little human.”

One of the men reached out and ripped off the front of the Hellion’s dress, exposing her breasts. She cried out as the other pinned her arms to her sides, preventing her from covering herself. I could see her face now. Young, frightened, tearstained.

Fuck this. I wasn’t going to just stand here and let this happen. In fact, why was I still just standing there? My head felt fuzzy. Had I been talking to someone?

The Hellion screamed again, galvanising me into action.

I strode right up to the group. “Hey, come on, leave her alone.” I pushed into the circle and stood in front of the Hellion.

The nobles stared at me with such horror you’d think I’d pulled down my trousers and taken a shit on the floor. The Hellion behind me gasped in shock, and I thought, crap, maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. What had Bernie said about etiquette? Maybe this was what they did at these things. Was I showing my ignorance? But in the next moment, my doubts were dispelled as the male reached around me to grab at the Hellion’s hair. Didn’t matter what the etiquette was, this was just plain wrong.

The Hellion screamed, and I thwacked the noble’s hand, short and sharp. He let go of her hair and glared at me in horror.

“You have no right!” he said tightly.

“Unless she wishes to take Zara’s place,” the female noble to my left said.

The Hellion behind me brushed closer. “Please, go, please. You must not interfere.”

Yeah, not happening. “No one’s taking anyone’s place.”

The male noble looked this way and that. “Who is this female? What is she doing here?”

“Unclaimed?” the other male asked.

“Pretty skin,” the female said.

Their regal faces began to twist and morph into something all too eager and all too ravenous.

“Um, maybe we should all calm down,” I said.

The female inhaled deeply, her eyelids fluttering in ecstasy. “Do you smell that? Such a delicious aroma.”

They began to close in on us.

Where the hell was Bernie?

Dammit, looked like I’d have to scrap my way out of this one. I curled my hands into fists. “Touch me and lose your arm.”

The male laughed. “A fighter. I do love it when they fight back.”

He made a grab for me and I punched him in the throat. He didn’t even flinch.

I threw another punch, this time aiming for his face, but his hand shot up and he grabbed my fist.

I pulled, trying to get free, and I did, but I lost my glove in the process.

The female noble squeaked and pointed at my hand.

Shit.

The male staggered back, his eyes turning to saucers.

“Excuse me.” Bernie appeared, pushing into the circle of nobles. He took my arm and pulled me away.

I didn’t look back, but the buzz that erupted behind me told me that my secret was out.

“Shit! I’m sorry! I couldn’t just let them pick on that poor girl.”

Bernie pulled me through an archway and into a deserted corridor. He pressed me up against the wall, his lips a thin line, his eyes shifting from side to side. I could tell he was debating something.

“What? Spit it out.”

“You just killed that Hellion.”

“What?”

“They’ll kill her for the embarrassment you just caused. It’s how it works. An owned Hellion is its master’s or mistress’s property to do as they wish. A Hellion who protests, objects, or does anything contrary to its noble’s wishes is put down. It’s how the nobles keep control. If you hadn’t noticed, they’re seriously outnumbered by their Aether-created slaves. Fear and control is their only weapon.”

It
, he kept saying
it
. “That Hellion is a ‘she,’ a person.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I forget that you’re new to the way of life here. Hellions aren’t born, they’re created, from Aether, by the nobles, so they’re . . .” He shrugged, and for the first time since I’d known Bernie, I felt a pang of genuine annoyance toward him.

“What? They’re not living, breathing beings? They don’t have emotions, or feel pain? What? Damn, Bernie. What the hell happened to you?”

“If we’re going to save your friend, then we need to get going.”

“My friend the abomination?”

“Dammit, Ash. What do you want me to say? I may not agree with how things are done here, but that’s the way it is. It works.”

“And would you be saying that if you weren’t a noble? Answer me that. Would you feel the same way if you were still a plaything for your master?”

His face went blank, completely devoid of any emotion. He straightened. “I’m going back into the meeting. If you want to save your friend then you can come with me. Otherwise, you’re on your own.”

“Wow. Seriously? You’d just dump me like that? Fuck, Bernie. Makes me wonder why I bothered hauling my butt all the way here to save yours.” I turned away to hide the hot moisture in my eyes. I bloody hated it when I cried and it always happened when I was pissed off.

He grabbed my arm as I moved back toward the party. “Where are you going?”

“To save a life!”

Next thing I knew I was pressed back up against the wall, but this time he was pressed up against me, his lips claiming mine, his tongue invading my mouth, his hands holding me still, keeping me from buckling because, damn, that kiss was like fire skating over my skin.

Somewhere in the distance, I heard a scream, but it seemed so far away. I was drowning in him, melting under those expert hands that seemed to know just where to cup or skate or squeeze, and then it was over. Bright hazel eyes watched me, waiting for my reaction.

I gave myself a moment to get my breathing under control. Man, this bodice was tight. I pushed at his chest and he stepped back.

“I still have to try to save that girl.”

He glanced over my head toward the party. “It’s over.”

“What?”

“She’s dead.”

I shook my head. “No, no, what?” The scream I’d heard when he was kissing me . . . had he kissed me to stop me from acting? To stop me from seeing the execution? I could see the answer in his eyes, that flash of guilt, and then he was turning away and striding off down the corridor.

I watched his broad back vanish into the shadows and realised I didn’t know who Bernie was anymore. I’d thought I’d seen her, in his eyes. But now I wasn’t so sure. My Bernie had a desperate regard for life. She’d put her own on the line for Ryder, for me. This Bernie . . .

It doesn’t matter right now. Right now you need to save Daemon, the guy you got into this mess.

Right as usual, little voice.

My ire would have to wait. I had a trade to make.

For the first time since I’d known Bernie, I wanted to punch him. I was so bloody pissed. But common sense, the bitch that he is, kept whispering in my ear, telling me to chill out and ride it.

We entered a room through a nondescript door and walked smack bang into a torture session.

For a moment, I was completely gobsmacked. My eyes took in the scene, but my brain refused to compute. I saw blood and ripped skin, and then I saw the audience with smiles and grins and laughter. I barely registered Bernie’s hand on my elbow, or the curse that fell from his lips. They’d started already.

They were hurting Daemon.

The big guy that, until a day ago, had made my knees knock with nerves, was on the ground, on his knees, hands shackled in front of him, head bowed as the tiny bitch whipped the shit out of his back. He flinched but didn’t make a sound. Blood sprayed, and the gathered council nobles cheered.

This was a sport to them. Nothing but a sport. But it meant so much more to me. Every lash ripped at my heart, every flinch fuelled the rage wrapped in darkness that was coiled in my chest. I took a step forward, my teeth clenched. Bernie tightened his grip on my elbow. Brialla laid another blow, and Daemon lifted his head. I must have made a sound, a gasp, something, because his gaze fixed itself in my direction, and what I saw in those striking eyes had the darkness in my chest unfurling.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people?” I said.

Bernie pulled me toward him, but I shook him off, the rage bubbling up through my skin. He dropped my arm as if burned. I stepped into the room and slid to the ground before Daemon. I reached for his face, my fingers about to graze his skin when I caught movement in the periphery of my vision. I reacted without thought; my hand whipping up to catch the tail end of the whip wielded by Brialla. I wrapped it around my wrist and slowly raised my gaze to meet hers.

Her face was stony and tight, eyes chips of granite boring into me. “Bernie, what is the meaning of this?”

“Brialla, I apologise for my guest’s behaviour. I—”