Forged of Shadows: A Novel of the Marked Souls Read online

  Knowing he shouldn’t, he reached out to touch her cheek, to bring her gaze up to his. “Losing Perrin was bad,” he said softly. “But we can’t fix it, can’t bring him back, by avoiding our mission.”

  He expected her to pull away, assuming she didn’t just snap off his head—and maybe his hand. Instead, she rested a moment against his touch. The blue streaks of her hair hung down without their customary gel, straight and soft against the backs of his fingers.

  “I just can’t seem to make anything better,” she murmured. “My family. The kids at the halfway house. I manage to make things worse even when I’m fighting evil incarnate and it seems like there’s no way things could get worse.”

  “We all have our special skills,” he said. She rewarded him with a fleeting smile, compelling him to remind her, “I wanted more for the boys under my watch too, so I know how you feel.”

  He wished he could make it better. For her. Never mind the world’s battle against evil. If he could ease her hurt, even for a moment, maybe that would be the first step to making up for all his failures over the many long years.

  After all, he did know how she felt. He just wanted to feel more of her.

  He leaned down, very slowly, giving her time to protest. She only stared up, her eyes half closed and her lips parted.

  Softly, he closed his mouth over hers. Spicy and sweet. The sigh of her breath warmed the damp joining of their lips and spread with a curling rush through the rest of him. He stroked his tongue against hers, felt her melt as the heat rose between them.

  He pulled her up against his chest, the clean cotton of the black T-shirt he’d laid out for her—the whole time imagining her bare, wet, hot skin in the shower—rumpling under his clenched fingers. He’d like to see that skin, taste it, mark it with his presence, a warning more clear than even a flashing reven to any who would hurt her again.

  A clang from somewhere down in the basement made him lift his head.

  But she didn’t draw away. “I thought we weren’t going to do this again.”

  He brushed a twined strand of blue and black hair behind her ear. “If it’s this or fight . . .”

  Her hand rested in the middle of his chest, rising and falling with his slightly harried breath. “We can’t do anything by halves, can we? But that’s all we are anymore. Half of a soul, half demon.”

  His grip on her tightened involuntarily. Because he didn’t feel divided at the moment.

  Oh no, definitely all of him wanted all of her.

  She might think of herself as somehow lessened, but he knew better.

  “You said it was my fault we lost Perrin, and I agreed. But I didn’t say why.” The confession ripped out of him. “If I’d been with you, we could have staved off the salambes’ attack, at least long enough to confine the one and make our escape.”

  Under his hand, he felt the imperceptible stiffening of her spine. “What do you mean?”

  He pulled her closer again. “This. This power that binds us. I’ve denied it, thinking it would do more harm than good. But as you pointed out, how can we sink any deeper?”

  She’d gone utterly still in his grasp, and he realized he could’ve offered a more impassioned appeal to her senses before pointing out the cold practicality of their joining. He tilted his head, gaze fixed on her mouth, ready to make up for the error.

  But she pulled back, exerting no little amount of her teshuva’s strength. “So you think one kiss seals the deal?”

  “No,” he murmured. “I figure two or three should do it.”

  This time she was not amused, he saw. Under the black weave of her T-shirt, her muscles rippled as she amped the demon higher. “So we’re going to hook up to save the league.”

  He had to let her go or risk an undignified wrestling match on the cold metal stairs. “I thought you understood. You noticed it yourself, before I did; we’re two halves of a whole, mirror images.”

  “Matter and antimatter,” she countered.

  “And if we handle the explosion right, we’ll only take the evil in the world with us.”

  She took a long step back from him, until her heels hovered near the edge of the stairs, as if she’d rather tumble back down than be near him. “You’re the one who said no more explosions.”

  “I was hasty.” He grimaced. “You bring that out in me. Just another way we’re different.”

  “Just another way we’ll kill each other before we could drain a single malice.”

  Frustration rose up in him. “You want to fight. You’ve been pushing to take this to the next level.”

  She stared at him, her golden eyes opaque with some secretive veil that hid more dangers than the barrier guarding the human realm from the demon. “I don’t want to be just another weapon in your hands.”

  Her refusal hung in the air between them like a double-edged sword with no grip.

  He had no choice but to take it, never mind the blood and pain. “That’s what we are, Jilly, weapons. And when we’re not together, we’re half the weapon we could be. Which makes us useless in this war.”

  He knew the point of her weakness, her impulse to come to the rescue of hopeless cases. Though the underhanded ploy caught in his throat, he added, “How can you deny us—deny the world—this chance to be saved?”

  Her brows drew hard together, as if she sought to rally her defenses, but when she opened her mouth, no sound emerged.

  From below them, Ecco clanged up the stairs, grumbling to himself. When he saw them on the landing, he stopped to stare between them. “What? Did you beat her? It wasn’t that big a mess.” Then he shoved past them out into the warehouse.

  Liam rubbed at his temple. Beat her? He hadn’t pushed her that hard. Had he?

  Her stricken expression had blanked when Ecco interrupted. Her arms, which had been wrapped around herself, fell to her sides. “Of course. Whatever we have to do to stop Corvus. Shall we hunt?”

  He should have felt the thrill of victory, that perfect bone-deep righteousness when the hammer haft smacked into his palm. But he felt nothing.

  As he gestured her ahead of him out of the stairwell, he didn’t feel as if he’d found another weapon. No, somehow he knew he’d lost here.

  CHAPTER 26

  The creeping chill that had invaded Jilly with each of Liam’s sensible words hadn’t abated by the time the talyan hit the streets. Liam had announced at their prehunt docking-bay gathering that he would not—would not, he said—lose another man.

  They were traveling on foot, en masse, and yet Jilly had never felt so alone.

  Their black ghosting shapes, reven flickering, were strung far enough apart as to seem completely unrelated, just a few more random, artless tags on the cityscape. She didn’t even have a sense of what they were doing tonight. Every word had seemed to come at her from a distance, wrapped in gauze. Gauze would’ve been nice over Liam’s needle-sharp words earlier.

  He didn’t even know how he’d stabbed her. It was all so clear to him. She’d been a fool to ever think there could be more than saving the world for him.

  Certainly she wasn’t enough.

  And yet she couldn’t accuse him of a talya’s massive conceit when she was the one who wanted to be put ahead of the world in his estimations. He was right; there was nothing more important than what they’d been chosen to do.

  And if she had to give up herself to a man who was interested in her only as a tool, well, it hadn’t killed her mother. Only drained her soul. And Jilly had already given that up.

  A hand on her arm distracted her. Sera peered into her eyes. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” Jilly said. The talyan were spread out enough that none would overhear. Not that she would have said anything else anyway.

  “You look a little out of it.”

  “Sorry.” Jilly drew in a shallow breath. “I won’t let anyone else die because of me.”

  Sera frowned. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Never mind.” Jilly shoved her hands in her po
ckets, for once not having to avoid the nick of the crescent blades. There’d been a new jacket waiting for her when she joined the talyan in the docking bay. The puffy silver wasn’t like anything the other talyan were wearing, but sewn into the interior were clever, secret sheaths for her knives.

  She knew whom the jacket had come from. With the way she was going through clothing, she should be glad the league had a uniform allowance.

  Despite her silence, Sera didn’t pull away. Instead, her sidelong glance seemed to study her like an Arctic-core sample. “How are you and Liam getting along?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Sera seemed to take the question at face value. “Maybe. There aren’t enough league records to know if the mated-talyan bond was always by choice.”

  “You’d think institutionalized rape would be a bad way to fight evil.”

  Sera recoiled. “Liam would never—”

  Jilly hunched her shoulders. “No. Of course not. I’m just . . .”

  “Feeling shanghaied again.” Sera nodded. “Like you were thrust into a life—signed, sealed, and delivered—with a man you don’t even know.” Her hazel gaze was sharp. “With a man you might not even have chosen.”

  Jilly had thought she didn’t want to talk about it, but curiosity pricked her. “You and Archer get along so well.”

  Sera smiled. “When Ferris was a rich landowner’s son a long time ago, he would have shown me to the servants’ entrance. When I was a thanatologist helping people accept their coming deaths, I would have happily booted him along the way. But there’s something between us. . . .”

  “Compulsion.” Jilly ticked the word off on her thumb and continued with, “Stockholm syndrome. Masochism. Oh, insanity . . .”

  Sera tapped her chin thoughtfully. “So you’re saying you guys aren’t getting along real well?”

  “He sees nothing but the league. I’m nothing to him but a weapon.”

  Sera shook her head in disagreement. “More than that.”

  “Right. A potentially backfiring weapon. So not even one he can trust.”

  “If he doesn’t trust someone, it’s himself. I’ve seen him looking at you.”

  Jilly rolled her eyes, but some of the deep freeze in her veins melted. “I won’t play those high school games.”

  “Why? You didn’t learn anything from the kids you worked with?”

  “Learn? I taught them those sorts of games can get you in big trouble.”

  Sera sniffed. “You know, you’re as bad as he is. No wonder you’re meant to be together.” When Jilly prickled, Sera added, “I bet by the time those street kids came to you, they’d figured out that sometimes being alone and on their own isn’t as romantic as it seems. Sometimes it is just lonely.”

  “Nobody thinks being alone is romantic,” Jilly objected. “They ran because they were scared, abused, unwise, tired of being unwanted.”

  Sera just looked at her. “Sound familiar?”

  Jilly tried to summon up a suitable glare, but her lips twitched with reluctant amusement. “Didn’t you give up your counseling day job? And anyway, I’m not dying. Although I suppose the night is young.”

  Sera smiled back without restraint. “That’s the thing these bullyboys don’t understand. You’re possessed, not gone. You’re still you.”

  “Nobody wanted me for who I was then either.” Jilly bit her tongue. She hadn’t meant for that to slip out.

  But Sera just nodded. “I think that awareness of being alone must be an effect of the penance trigger. As if others can sense the flaw that runs through us from then on, that cracks us apart. They know they won’t be able to bridge the gap and fill the void. Only one man will be able to do that.”

  Jilly stared at her. “Your talya mate.” Her tone fell flat. All this time, when her friends from work and her meager social life had teased her about being too picky, actually there’d been only one man. One she would’ve said was totally wrong for her.

  Not to mention totally uninterested.

  She peered at Sera. “You haven’t told Archer any of this, have you?”

  Sera hunched her shoulders. “He’s a little sensitive about entwined fates and destinies, crap like that. I love him, but seriously, I imagine men like him are the reason the league has lost track of its feminine counterpart. Talk about commitment issues.”

  “Well, you can forget it if you think Liam is leading the charge back in the other direction.”

  “You can’t let the bond fail,” Sera insisted.

  “Yeah, yeah, fate of the world.” Jilly waved her hand. She tried to sound flippant.

  Sera opened her mouth to protest, but her cell phone rang with an insistent beep.

  “Better get that,” Jilly said. “The world thing can wait.”

  Sera scowled as she snapped open the phone. She listened a moment, then handed it to Jilly. “For you. It’s the world calling.”

  Jilly frowned at her and took the phone.

  “Jilly,” Liam said curtly. “This call routed through the At-One number.”

  “Dee,” she said. He didn’t answer; the call was already clicking through.

  “Hello? Jilly?” The teen’s voice sounded younger than it ever did in person.

  “What’s wrong, Dee?”

  “You said to call. . . .”

  When the girl didn’t continue, Jilly’s blood congealed. “Andre? Is he there?”

  “No. Iz saw something outside. Like that thing in the alley.”

  Shit. “Is it there now?”

  “I don’t think so. Iz said it left. With ol’ Downunder.”

  For a moment, Jilly couldn’t make sense of the comment. Then she remembered the kids’ nickname for Dan Envers. She just hadn’t expected to hear the director of the halfway house associated with a feralis.

  Except now that Dee said it, the connection seemed so easy.

  “We’re coming,” she told Dee. “Stay inside. And for God’s sake, don’t let Iz follow them.”

  “He already said if anybody’s taking that thing on, it’s your new boss.”

  “Then there’s hope for him yet.” She added a few more reassurances and warnings before she hung up and turned to Sera. “Instead of just wandering around in the dark, you want to go thrash some demon ass?”

  “Now you’re leading the charge?” The voice behind her was cool.

  She didn’t glance back. “Archer, Dee called. There was a feralis sniffing around the halfway house. And the director was with it.”

  Archer processed a moment. “You got the pink slip. The director got slipped the solvo.”

  “Worse,” she said. “I would have noticed if he’d gone all vague on me. He might still have his soul in the literal sense, but what if he’s selling out kids to Corvus and friends?”

  She expected more hassle, but the talya only nodded once. “It’s not far. Let’s go.” He faded back, his cell phone at his ear.

  In the charged silence, she felt the talyan reflow around her, on their new course into the night. A course she’d chosen.

  Was this what Liam felt, sending his people into danger on a word?

  She froze.

  Sera, who’d paced her, took another step, then glanced back. Talyan ranged ahead of and behind them, keeping to the shadows, half shadow themselves in their dark hunting gear.

  Jilly’s skin prickled. The old stab wound flared and the warning ache spread around. She imagined the reven raced with violet sparks. Her demon was rousing.

  In response to what?

  She didn’t turn in a pointless circle, just cast her senses wide. The street flickered to the black- light hunter’s sight.

  “What have you got?” Sera’s voice was cool, the earlier cajoling notes gone. She was all business. “The halfway house is almost a mile away.”

  “Do you feel it?”

  “No. I’m not—Wait.” She raised her head, eyes half closed so only a slit of violet gleamed under her lashes.

  From out of nowhere, Archer was b
eside Sera. His hand settled at the small of her back. “Did you want something, darling?” A faint Southern drawl made the word more threat than endearment. The demon’s mark across his knuckles pulsed, and Jilly didn’t doubt that if he grabbed a malice in that hand, he’d drain its energy in a single beat of his heart.

  Sera leaned into him, as if that touch was all she’d been waiting for. “Jilly picked up on it. I’m still getting a lock.”

  Archer glanced around, though his hand never left Sera. “Where’s Liam to tweak her?”

  “He can tweak this.” Jilly lifted the relevant finger.

  Archer grinned at her wolfishly. “Not like that, you naughty girl. Not here anyway. Save it for the stairwell.”

  Jilly rubbed her forehead. “Ecco’s such a gossip.” Sera settled closer to her mate. “The boost is something we’ve been working on.”

  Archer’s grip tightened with blatant possessiveness. “ ‘We’ meaning me and her. No one else.”

  “Of course,” Sera soothed. She turned her attention back to Jilly. “You must have felt it when you touched him.”

  Whatever vague menace needled her from their surroundings was nothing compared with the threat Sera’s words conjured. “I felt like maybe I was setting myself up for a major heartbreak, if that’s what you mean.” She didn’t even care that Archer was listening. He knew everything anyway. Not that there was anything to know.

  She took a breath to clear her annoyance. It was messing with the reception of everything going on around her. She had to get out of her own head.

  Maybe that’s what Liam’s hand on her skin was supposed to help her do.

  Well, she didn’t have that at the moment. And damn it, she didn’t want it.

  Didn’t want it just for this.

  Gritting her teeth, she tried to rip through the fuzz of her own distraction. No pain, but it was much harder than tearing through the salambe’s enveloping ether. The tenebrae had just been trying to eat its way into her. This soul-clouding haze of doubt and despair was something she’d imposed on herself.