Immortal Coil (28 page)

No, it was just
stress, that
was all.
The stress of keeping the Handmaiden’s
grimoire
safe.
It certainly didn’t feel safe, hidden in a secret compartment in his wardrobe.

His breath wheezed between teeth he hadn’t realized he’d clenched.

Having the
grimoire
was too much responsibility. There were too many power-hungry drakes
who
could use the magic within it to control all dragons. Regis was bad enough.

Yes, that was it. That and trying to figure out why she’d asked him to reread that particular journal.
And her leaving.
And
Capri
not caring for him.
And having no purpose to his life.
And—

And that was all a lie.

He shot his gaze about the room, desperate for something to keep the world from spinning. But there were only the chairs and the screen, no other furnishings. Nothing else to impede the joy of immersing himself in the stories captured on film.

He sucked in more air but his heart only pounded faster. He’d never returned after that night. At first he’d needed to heal and had holed up in his lair. But that first day had passed and Hunter was already tracking down the drakes
who’d
attacked him. Then a second and a third day had passed and it seemed easier to remain at Court. Then the nightmares had started.

The room whirled around him. His throat ached, his whole body throbbed. Damn it. The Handmaiden was supposed to have taken care of this.

He squeezed his eyes against the memory. It was a memory.
Just a memory.
He could do this. He had to do this. Hunter didn’t have anyone else. Well, Gig would probably be glad to help, but Grey didn’t trust him to keep the body-sharing thing a secret. In the very least
Capri
would find out and there was no telling what she’d do with the information.

He ground his teeth.

The drakes
who’d
attacked him all those years ago had been punished and reborn. They were no longer a threat. He didn’t even know why the thought of gating over made his heart race. It didn’t make sense.
Newgate
was perfectly safe.
Even more so in the daylight.
Be the Swoosh. Be like Nike. Just. Do.
It.

Before he could doubt himself, he shoved his hand against the screen and yelled the word to power a gate. Earth magic erupted from his palm. Its black energy devoured the white rectangle.

His knees buckled and before he could fall, he staggered into the vortex. The magic of the gate pressed against his senses, filling his mouth and nose and ears for a terrifying moment. Then his hands and knees hit uneven ice-covered asphalt.

Hot and cold billowed through him, one radiating after the other over and over again. He tried to control his breathing but couldn’t stop panting. His pulse raced and black specks danced across his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut. It wasn’t that bad.
Really.
He could do this. He was already here.

He clutched at the memory of the Handmaiden’s touch on his head and the tingle of her magic easing the sharp edges in his mind.

His racing heart slowed and the rushing in his ears melted away. A mix of low humming noises vibrated the air around him, like a faint bass from his stereo system. It reminded him of movies. The strangely soothing sounds of cars and machinery. Sounds he’d heard millions of times before on film. See, not bad at all.

He glanced up. The world spun and wavered.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Hunter needed him to do this.

He cracked open one eye. When the world didn’t whirl, he opened the other. He wasn’t outside of Jade’s shop as he’d intended. But given the stress of the situation it didn’t surprise him. Gating to locations without anchors required a lot of concentration, even for those few drakes who could do it. The fact that his gate had latched onto the anchor he thought the safest, Hunter’s private gate, didn’t surprise him. The alley was more or less as he remembered from the last time he and Hunter had gated there, back in the early 30s... back before that terrible night. Secure behind a warehouse that Hunter had given to Grey.

His throat started to ache and he drew in more slow breaths, shoving the memories back.

Dead stalks of grass and weeds broke through snow drifted against the building’s foundation, but the windows were new, even here at the back. Good, his human business manager was keeping up with maintenance as he’d instructed. And if he focused on that, perhaps he wouldn’t lose his mind.

He forced himself to stand.

See, everything was fine. He could do it now. He was doing it. Hunter needed help and was depending on him.

Holding that thought close, he left the alley and raced to Jade’s shop.

Anaea
peered around the edge of the shop and glanced down the sidewalk. Grey still wasn’t in sight. Maybe he wouldn’t think to look for her in the narrow alley between the house and the office building, but it was the best place to hide. And he had told her not to go inside.

She had fished coins from a dish by the front door of Mark’s apartment and taken the bus across town to the antique shop. The old coat she’d found in his closet had done little to keep out the winter chill and she couldn’t help but fear that feeling the cold somehow meant Hunter’s situation was getting worse.

No. She was just oversensitive to the situation.
Jumping at every little thing.
Hunter was going to be fine. He was still within her. He couldn’t lose cohesion like he would if he didn’t have a vessel. Grey would know what was wrong. And everything was going to be all right.

“Wow, Hunter. I only bite if you ask,” a throaty feminine voice said behind her.

Anaea
spun around. Jade stood, framed between the red brick house and the grey concrete office building at the far end of the alley.

“Or do you like skulking in alleys in the cold?”

Damn it. Where was Grey?

“The cold doesn’t bother me.” It seemed like a typical Hunter thing to say.

Jade raised a sculpted eyebrow. “Tell me another one, fire drake.”

Anaea
pressed her lips tight, fighting the urge to argue. Please just make the woman go away.

“You know,” Jade said, lifting her long green coat, stepping over the low snowdrift, and sauntering to
Anaea
, “all of Court is looking for you.”

“So I hear.”
Anaea’s
stomach churned. She had no idea if Jade was the type to turn in an ex-lover. What was she thinking? Of course Jade was. She’d already tried sexual blackmail with their trip into the
Dragon Court
. Why not now?

Jade ran a delicate finger along
Anaea’s
arm.
“Must feel good to have fire again.”

Even through Mark’s coat and sweatshirt, the touch made
Anaea’s
skin crawl.
God.
She had to get rid of Jade.

Heat bubbled within her, radiating from her chest, down her arms to her hands. She clutched the woman’s wrists. “I’m not in the mood for games.”

Jade’s eyes widened. Blue fire licked her skin and
Anaea
pulled it back. She didn’t want to kill the woman, just make her run away.

Translucent green light flashed around Jade, like an aura. It wavered then took hold, surging until she was completely enveloped.

Anaea
jerked back and Jade narrowed her eyes.

“You’re not Hunter.”

A chill swept over
Anaea
. “Of course I am.”

Jade leaned close, peering at
Anaea
as if she could see her soul. “No. He’s in there. I can see his aura, but—
Who
the hell are you?”

“Hunter,”
Anaea
growled.

“There he is,” someone yelled behind her. Two men rushed from the far end of the alley toward her. More light, muddy brown for both men and not nearly as bright as Jade’s, engulfed them. Jade grabbed
Anaea’s
arm. “What did you do with Hunter?”

“Nothing.”
She shoved the woman but Jade held tight. Fire rippled through
Anaea
. “Let go.”

She didn’t want to kill anyone else. All she wanted was to fix whatever was wrong with Hunter and get him into his own body.

“Get the medallion,” one of the men yelled.

A heavy hand seized
Anaea’s
shoulder. She wrenched away, shoving Jade into this third man. They staggered back as flames shot from
Anaea’s
fingertips.

She yanked her hands to the side, aiming the inferno at the wall beside her. Energy poured out of her, the flames twisting into thick white threads. The air shimmered and with a flash, a white hole stretched before her.

The urge to leap into it made her limbs twitch. Her stomach roiled. She had no idea what the white nothing was. But the part that had been Hunter knew exactly what it was.
A gate.
And a well-crafted one at that, even if it wasn’t the usual black and even if she hadn’t used a power word to make it.

Bully for whatever instinct Hunter had instilled in her. She still didn’t know where it went.

The men yelled, the light surrounding them wavering. Jade’s aura intensified and gathered around her hands. She was doing something and
Anaea
was certain she didn’t want to hang around to find out what.

Anaea
leapt for the gate. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Grey storm into the alley, but it was too late. The vortex wrapped around her, twisting her essence and pouring into her.

* * *

The lightning cage squeezed Hunter tight. He sensed
Anaea’s
heart pounding, felt a surge of panic, and then the suffocating press of a gate.

Images flashed to him. Jade recognizing two souls in
Anaea’s
body. Three drakes he didn’t know grabbing for
Anaea
. Shit.

He fought the urge to squirm in his prison. He couldn’t afford to pass out again.

Anaea’s
pulse slowed a little. Good. Calm was good. A black speck materialized before him and the tunnel vision came back. He was still a long ways from her, but if he squinted he could see what she saw.

She stood in a parking lot surrounded by a circle of charred asphalt, indicating an astoundingly powerful gate—especially for one created on instinct. Once she knew the proper spell, she could probably go anywhere in the world like Grey could.
Which was good, since they’d need a place to hide as soon as he’d gotten his own body and killed
Zenobia
, or Nero, or whoever was after him.

Anaea’s
gaze searched the area, stopping on a rusty station wagon. She knew that car, knew the owner.

Relief flooded her. He was home.

Jealousy
twinged
through Hunter, but he tamped it down. He wanted to be the one to help her, but given their current predicament, he’d be happy if she found a safe place for a moment. Maybe if she calmed down he could work free of this cage.

She rushed into the apartment building, up the stairs and down the hall, but slowed halfway.

Hunter squinted. He couldn’t quite see.

A chill rippled over her. She inched forward.

The door at the end hung ajar, ripped free from its top hinge.

Damn.
Turn around.

But she didn’t hear him.

Lightning pulsed over the cage, biting into him.

Calm down and run away.
Couldn’t she see what was before her?

But of course she could. Whoever he was, he could still be inside. She couldn’t turn around any more than Hunter could have.

* * *

Anaea’s
heart pounded and everything within her screamed for her to run. But Mark’s car was in the parking lot below.
Which meant he’d returned.

Maybe he wasn’t home. Maybe he’d seen whoever had burst open his door and had run away.

Her mouth went dry, and she peered through the crack between the splintered door and warped metal frame. The apartment was trashed. The sofa lay on its back and the monitor was smashed. Pieces of torn and broken canvases lay among the knocked-over books, movies, magazines, and art supplies. Blood was streaked across the far wall by the balcony door.

A faint groan sent her heart racing. Oh, God. She scrambled across the room. There, behind the couch.
A hand with twitching fingers.

Mark lay in a pool of blood, clutching his gut and failing to hold an enormous gash together. Both legs were broken, one lying at an unnatural angle while the other’s bone protruded through his pant leg. Blood covered his bruised and swollen face.

His uneven gaze focused on her through
slitted
lids.
“
Anaea
.”