Etched in Silver

  Gagging, I forced myself to remain silent as the lycon rambled on through the undergrowth. Thank the gods I’d been out of the line of fire. Just then, a noise caught my attention as someone entered the area. Roche. Damn it—he’d probably followed my scent. I peered through a tiny gap in the brambles and could just make him out. He turned this way, then that, as if he were looking for something. I heard him curse.

  Bingo! The tree and bush were helping me. They’d called in the lycon, whose spray had masked my scent. It would be impossible for Roche to find me now. And if I was guessing right, the brambles would put up one hell of a fight if he tried to tear through them.

  Feeling like I actually might have a chance to come out of this alive, I huddled, waiting. The only thing I had with me were the iron handcuffs, and those I held gingerly, even with the gloves on. No use taking chances.

  After a few moments, Roche turned and forced his way back through the undergrowth. I waited, barely breathing, until the branches around me relaxed. As they opened up, I crawled out, stood up, and cautiously adjusted my clothing.

  Turning back to the tree, I let out a long sigh. “I don’t know if you can understand me,” I whispered, “but thank you. You saved my life.”

  There was a soft murmur, as if the air currents were gliding through the knothole that formed the tree’s mouth. I got the distinct impression it said, “You’re welcome.”

  After what seemed like an eternity, I pushed through the undergrowth back to the trail, pleased that Roche was nowhere in sight.

  “Fuck,” I whispered. “Now what do I do? I have no idea how to get back home.”

  The mist stretched out for as far as I could see. I could barely remember which way I’d come, or how far. I’d been running so fast that I’d lost track of the distance I’d covered.

  After a moment’s debate, I straightened my shoulders and decided to continue on through the copse. As I picked up the pace, the trees were no longer silent. They whispered and shook in the astral currents. I closed my eyes and tuned in on what they were saying. I had the gift of talking to plants, even though I wasn’t all that skilled at growing them, and so I listened.

  At first the murmurs surrounded topics I’d expect most trees—even astral ones—to discuss. Sun and growth and the mist, which apparently provided the water they needed to blossom and thrive. Scattered references to the lycons and other creatures of the astral realm dotted the conversation. But then, a sinister tone crept into the leaf-whispers, and I paused, dropping into a trance in order to pick up what they were saying.

  “He’s forming an army . . .”

  “Do you think he’ll come into our world . . .”

  “We should pay no heed—it is not our affair . . .”

  “But flame and fire are, and even here they can wound us . . .”

  Eventually, the talk about the mysterious stranger died away, but the fear that had accompanied their words remained behind. Something was on the move and I didn’t want to know what. After a few minutes, the whispers took up again, this time about the passing of time.

  How long I walked, I couldn’t say. Time didn’t run the same on the astral as it did over on the physical realm. But eventually I came to the end of the wood and found myself standing on the edge of a long chasm filled with mist and sparkling fog. A narrow rope bridge crossed the abyss, looking about as supportive as a leisure bra.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I stepped onto the suspension bridge, pausing as it swung back and forth with my weight. Cautiously resting my hands on the railings, I slowly began to cross, taking care not to get my heels caught in the knotholes of the wooden planks that made up the passage.

  I was about halfway across when I saw a figure on the other side, dressed in a long gray cloak with hood. Roche? My heart pumped wildly until it clicked that it didn’t match his body type. When I reached out to touch the energy, I discovered a woman’s signature, with no sense of evil surrounding her. Curiosity, yes. Caution—definitely. But no deranged chaos like Roche.

  Maybe she could tell me how to get back home. She waited silently as I steeled myself and hurried across the wildly swinging bridge, taking care not to look down. I didn’t like heights. I didn’t like them at all and this was about as freak-assed high as I’d ever been. Running with the Hunt didn’t count.

  I came to the end of the bridge and glanced back as I stepped off it. The bridge vanished into the mists. One moment it was there; the next, it disappeared.

  “Holy hell!” I jumped away from the edge toward the woman. “Where did the damned thing go?”

  She towered over me, even more than Delilah. And when she spoke, her voice was muffled, as if swathed in cotton.

  “The bridge is mine and appears only when one who has need comes searching for me.”

  She brushed back her hood and I gazed into her eyes. She might be any age . . . young, mature . . . ancient. Hair streamed down her back, silver touched with violet highlights. I couldn’t place her race. Neither mortal nor Fae, that much was for certain. Her eyes were pale silver ringed by a black halo, and her pupils the darkest jet I’d ever seen.

  A wave of magic rolled off her that almost knocked me down. This was no witch or sorceress. No, she was magic incarnate. I stared at her for a moment. Was she a goddess? An Immortal?

  “I’m afraid I don’t know who you are. I wasn’t searching for you—just . . . for anybody who could help me, I guess.”

  She circled me with a dispassionate gaze. “I am the Lady of the Mists and you have entered my realm.”

  The Lady of the Mists . . . cripes! I was facing an Elemental Lord. Queen. Whatever you called her, she was one of the true Immortals. And—like all of them—she existed outside the realm of mortal and Fae affairs. I immediately fell into a deep curtsy.

  The Lady of the Mists gazed down at me, and I felt her hand touch the top of my head. “Stand, Moon witch. What are you doing in my realm? This is not your time of the month to run with the Hunt.”

  “I’m lost,” I said. “I was dragged over to the astral by a murderer whom I was hunting. He meant to kill me, but I managed to get away.” I held up the iron handcuffs. “I tried to catch him, but he surprised me. I had no idea he could shift through the realms.”

  She glanced at the handcuffs and grimaced. “Iron? You carry iron?”

  “I do what I need to in order to fulfill my duties. Can you help me?” I wondered if the Elemental Lords were affected by iron like the Fae. But she merely brushed them away.

  “Help you how? To catch him, or to return to your world?”

  By the way she said it, I had the feeling she could do either. But it was dangerous to ask for favors from the Immortals—far more dangerous than even the gods. The Elemental Lords were capricious. Death to them was simply a blink of an eye.

  “Can you tell me how to get home?” I asked, not even wanting to request that much, but I didn’t have much choice. Of course, I could wait here until the full moon, at which point the Hunt would sweep me up, but that seemed ridiculous and even worse—would allow Roche to escape.

  She tilted my chin up and her hand felt like a gentle breeze kissing my skin. “I can help you,” she said softly. “But you will be in my debt.”

  “What do you want in return? What can I possibly offer you?” I asked.

  The Lady of the Mists smiled then, and my blood ran cold. Her smile was ruthless, not evil or malign, but as cold as snow, as frozen as glacial ice.

  “In time I will send someone to you. Someone connected with the mist and fog. You may not realize it when you meet her, but eventually you will remember this pact. You will help her. You will do whatever is needed to help her redeem herself. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, my teeth chattering. Her touch sent me reeling with the cold. “What happens if I say no?”

  She laughed, her voice echoing through the fog that swirled around us, whirling pools of dancing mist. “Then, my dear, you will journey over the abyss again, this time without a br
idge.”

  Realizing that I was backed into a corner, and feeling the hand of fate squeezing me tighter, I gave her my pledge.

  “Close your eyes,” she whispered.

  I did, and the next thing I knew, I fell forward, losing my grip on the handcuffs. My eyes flew open and I found myself tumbling toward the floor as if I’d been shoved hard from behind. I scrambled for balance, but Trillian was there and he leapt forward, catching me in his arms. I was back in Roche’s room.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered hoarsely, a terrified look on his face. And then he was kissing me, and in the heat of that kiss, I tumbled headfirst into the fire.

  5

  TRILLIAN lifted me off my feet as his lips fastened on to mine. I melted into the kiss, willing it to go on and on as I wrapped my legs around his waist. The fear of dying at Roche’s hands, of being lost on the astral, of facing the Lady of the Mists, all rolled together into one big horny rush as he kissed me. I slid my hands up to his hair, my fingers coiling tightly around the long silken strands.

  He pressed against my inner thighs, rigid and searching behind the front of his trousers. I shifted, rubbing against him, listening to his soft moan as he tightened his grip around my waist. His fingers sparkled with magic and every place he touched tingled, sending a trail of desire singing through my body.

  “Do you think it’s safe?” I eyed the bed, then the floor. The floor was a better choice. Fleas—not so much.

  “Oh great gods, I want to say yes. I want you. But, no.”

  “Will Roche come back here?” I lowered my legs to the floor and stepped back, panting raggedly.

  Trillian reluctantly let go of me. It was then that I noticed he had a friend with him. Another Svartan, only with a well-trimmed beard. Stouter than Trillian, the man was leaning against the door frame, grinning. Yeah, we’d put on a little show, all right. I could see the amusement in his eyes.

  “Oh, he’ll be back,” Trillian said. “He left too many valuables here and he’ll want to make sure I didn’t steal them.”

  I swallowed my desire, trying to focus on the here and now. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

  Trillian rubbed his chin. “Right. I almost forgot. Sorry.”

  “I think I was just insulted,” the man said.

  “It wouldn’t be the first time. Camille, this is Darynal, my blood-oath brother,” Trillian said, laughing. “Darynal, meet Camille.” He sobered. “I’m calling on our oath here. If this woman needs help, she may ask you for your assistance—in my name.”

  The smile faded from Darynal’s face. He bowed to me. “Camille, consider me in your service. Whatever aid you need, I will do my best to provide. Whatever information you require, I will do my best to tell you.”

  Feeling like I’d just been made an honorary Svartan, I cleared my throat. I wanted nothing more than to forget about Roche and the astral and the Lady of the Mists, and go fuck Trillian’s brains out. But I managed to gather my wits and get back to the problem at hand.

  I curtsied back. “Thank you. I won’t abuse the honor.” Turning to Trillian, I asked, “What happened after Roche dragged me onto the astral?”

  His eyes took on a dangerous glow. “When I heard the commotion, I broke into the room. Roche had vanished and you were nowhere in sight. I searched everywhere. In the room, outside the building . . . but I couldn’t find you. I did, however, pick up on the fact that he’d kidnapped you into a different realm. So I sent a message back to my hotel asking Darynal to meet me here.”

  “You’re just lucky I’m in the city this month. I don’t usually trade here in Y’Elestrial,” Darynal interjected.

  Trillian gave him a short nod, then turned back to me. “I had no intention of leaving this area. If Roche came back without you and I managed to catch him, I would have taken a very dull knife and cut him over every inch of his body until he led me to you.”

  I swallowed. I thought I could be ruthless, but the look on Trillian’s face was cruel enough to slice rock. He’d make one hell of a nasty enemy.

  Darynal just laughed. “Trust him, he’d do it.”

  I filled them in on my adventures in astral-land, including my encounter with the copse of trees and how the brambles had hid me from Roche’s sight and sense of smell. I didn’t give them the rundown on meeting the Lady of the Mists. That little tea party I needed to think over for a while before I said anything to anyone. Of course, Trillian noticed the oversight.

  “How did you get back here?” he asked.

  “I found someone to help me,” I said, sidestepping the issue. “Some astral spirit who was in a good mood. So did Roche show up?”

  “You don’t see any blood, do you?” Trillian shook his head. “No, but trust me. He’ll be back later, when he thinks we’ve given up. He’s not going to want to leave this behind.” He hoisted a valise holding a number of magical scrolls, as well as several questionable objects. “I found it in the closet. Locked, but most locks can’t hold me out for long.”

  “We need to keep watch so we can catch him when he shows up,” I said. “But he can’t know I’m back. If he thinks I’m still stuck over there on the astral, then he’ll assume it’s safe. And you’d better put in an appearance of leaving because ten to one, he’s watching the building right now.” I frowned, digging through the items. Spell scrolls, potions, a few charms—all stuff that I could happily make use of.

  Grabbing my bag from where I’d left it on the chair, I upended the valise into it, swiping the scrolls along with everything else that he’d squirreled away. Then, I closed the trunk and set it back in place.

  Glancing up, I said, “I lost my iron handcuffs along the way, but I can find another pair in the markets. The scrolls are magical. Roche probably bought a butt load of magic to help with his little hack-up-the-women art project.”

  I looked up to find Trillian and Darynal watching me. They were both grinning. “What? What did I do now?”

  Trillian shook his head, laughing gently. “Oh, Camille, you’re truly a woman after my heart.” When I gave him a quizzical look, he just smiled.

  “Okay,” I said. “How are we going to work this?”

  Darynal shrugged. “I suggest that Trillian leave rather noticeably via the front door. You sneak out the back—if you’re around, chances are Roche will be able to sense your energy signature. I’ll stay here and hide.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said.

  “Both of you get a move on, then. He doesn’t know I’m with you since I didn’t enter the building with you. I’ll hide in the closet. If I can trip him up, I will.” Darynal replaced the valise where it had been and opened the closet door, grimacing when he saw the cobwebs strung through the space. “Honestly, don’t they have any maids around here?”

  “We’ll return after we’ve found disguises,” Trillian said. “I wish we had cell phones over here.”

  I stared at him. “What the hell is a cell phone? My mother taught me about something called a telephone over Earthside. Any relation?”

  Trillian nodded. “Yes. Cell phones are portable communication devices.”

  “Wait!” I stared at him. He’d spoken far too calmly for what he just said. “You’ve been Earthside, haven’t you? You’ve used these cell phones before!”

  He raised one eyebrow. “I’m not at liberty to discuss it.”

  “Just you wait,” I said. “When we have more time, we’re going to sit down and have a good, long talk.”

  Trillian grabbed me and gave me a quick kiss. “Not before we have a good, long fuck.”

  Once again, my libido kicked in as I flashed on the image of Trillian driving himself into me. I let out an involuntary moan. Darynal chuckled. I scowled at him.

  “Wipe the smile off your face, beard boy.” Turning back to Trillian, I added, “Disguises aren’t enough. We’d better cloak our magical signatures, too. There’s more to Roche than meets the eye.” I paused. “Darynal, what about you? Won’t Roche be ab
le to sense you hiding in here?”

  He shook his head and held up a silver pendant. “This will take care of that little problem.”

  I recognized the design. Sorcerers used the amulets to hide their activities.

  “Hey,” he added at my look. “I’m a damned good hunter, but what do you think gives me the edge on some of the elk and deer I go after?”

  “So you don’t play fair,” I said, a faint grin on my face. I was beginning to get a feel for him, and I’d bet anything he and Trillian were one hell of a pair of troublemakers when they went out on the prowl together.

  Darynal snorted. “I play to win. That’s something you’d better remember about your opponents, Camille. Most of them aren’t going to abide by the rule books. If you’re smart, you won’t either.”

  Trillian wrapped his arm around my waist. “I have a feeling she learned that lesson a long time ago. Come on, love. Let’s get moving.”

  As Trillian and I left the building, Trillian loudly via the front door and me sneaking out the back, I checked out the surrounding area, paying close attention to any niches or cubbyholes in which Roche could hide. If he was waiting for us to leave so he could return, he wouldn’t be standing out in plain sight. He might be a psychopath, but he wasn’t stupid.

  The alleys and walkways were shrouded in gloom. The sky was covered by thick clouds that obscured the moon, and the air smelled like warm summer lightning was on the way. I smiled, feeling the surge of energy that welled within me, calling to the forks of lightning that were biding their time, waiting for the storm to break.

  Lightning and I had a special affinity—part of a Moon witch’s powers included the ability to harness the lightning and other aerial weather. I wasn’t so hot with rain, though I managed. Snow was far more difficult for me to get a handle on. But lightning and I? We had an understanding. Of course, every time I called down the jagged branches of fire, I was terrified they would backlash and fry me to a crisp.