Flames of Mars (Celestial Shifters Book 2) Page 8

  Nathan backed away from the corner. For several agonizing seconds, there was silence. Then, as one, Nika, Thane, and Tio flinched and waved for Nathan to move farther back. As quietly as possible, they all scrambled to hide in a nearby alcove.

  Kronan shuffled past their previous hiding spot. Thankfully, rather than turning in their direction, his defeated form kept walking up the hall in the opposite way the hunters had headed. The soft pat-pat of his footfalls was agonizingly slow. Everyone waited, like statues, not daring to move as the footsteps retreated farther and farther away.

  “I think it’s safe,” Nika finally whispered. Before anyone could protest, she darted out to check both directions of the intersection. Without a word, she gestured for them to follow, then vanished around the left corner. Thane, Tio, and Nathan shared a silent glance before they hustled to catch up.

  Nika was waiting for them at the end of her chosen passage. Thane and Tio went after her, but just as Nathan was about to follow, he spotted Kronan rounding the corner in the opposite direction. His feet felt rooted to the spot. He glanced at the receding backs of Thane and Tio, then to the far corridor where Kronan had disappeared.

  Something dark stirred in his gut.

  He was already halfway up the hall Kronan had taken when his brain kicked in. What the hell am I thinking? But it was too late now. He had to keep following Kronan—had to figure out what he was doing here. Every instinct inside him demanded it.

  He reached the end of the hallway just in time to see Kronan turn another corner, this time to the right. Nathan hurried to follow, his anxiety spiking higher and higher the farther he got from the others. He should turn around. He should go back and find them.

  But he didn’t. He kept after Kronan, maintaining his distance, reaching each intersection just in time to see the next turn taken. Finally, Kronan stopped outside a door, turned the handle, and went inside

  Nathan bolted and caught the door just before it latched closed. Peering through the gap, he looked into what appeared to be a large storage room. Kronan was heading down a narrow walkway between metal floor-to-ceiling shelving. Cardboard boxes; fat, dusty books; and piles and piles of newspapers and geographical magazines were crammed onto the shelves.

  When Kronan was a safe distance ahead, Nathan slipped inside. He wasn’t sure if the door would lock closed behind him, so he grabbed a magazine and shoved it in the doorjamb.

  A voice called out from the other side of the storage shelves. “There you are. What took you so long, slith?”

  Nathan froze. That was Matthias Branstone’s voice.

  “Nothing,” said Kronan after a slight hesitation.

  “Hmm, really?” Without even seeing him, Nathan could just imagine Matthias’s shark grin as he asked, “Then what happened to your face?”

  “I . . . fell.” Kronan patted his cheek, smearing the teal blood that trickled from a small cut beneath his eye.

  A gravelly guffaw joined Matthias’s laugh. “Whose crystal blade did you ‘fall’ on this time?”

  Nathan knew that voice too. He crouched down and peered between the stacks of newspapers. Sure enough, a slightly overweight hunter with a gray beard stood next to Matthias. Wherever Matthias was, his right-hand man, Axel, was close by.

  The storage room the two men and the Veniri stood in was like a museum. Every inch of the back wall was covered in framed artifacts—obsidian arrowheads, ancient keys, golden coins, Aztec sacrificial knives carved from jade. Other relics, too big to be framed, were stored in pristine white cabinets that lined the walls. The glass shelving and backlighting enhanced an impressive collection of antiquities Nathan couldn’t even begin to guess the names of.

  Matthias and Axel stood at a large white counter in the center of the room, facing Nathan’s hiding spot. Both men wore white cotton gloves as they handled a collection of ancient-looking golden books. Various scrolls were bundled at one end of the counter, and at the opposite end sat a square chest about six inches high and a foot long and deep.

  The chest was open, though Nathan couldn’t see the contents from where he crouched. When Kronan rounded the counter to join the other men, Matthias hastily closed the lid.

  Kronan pursed his lips. “Master, if I was privy to what it is you seek, I’m sure I could be of some assistance.”

  Nathan cringed at Kronan’s use of the word master. Clearly Kronan’s groveling wasn’t yet a thing of the past.

  Matthias patted the top of Kronan’s head with a gloved hand. “All in due time, my little slith.”

  Kronan scowled when Matthias turned back to the counter.

  “I have other uses for you in the meantime,” added Matthias. He opened one of the golden tomes and, as gently as possible, carried the hefty relic over to a tall, narrow platform in front of the hanging wall artifacts. After placing the open book on an easel, he carefully covered it with a glass display case, completing the exhibit.

  When Matthias moved out of the way, Nathan squinted, but the only thing he could make out on the open pages was a double-spread image of some kind of creature with wings.

  “What kind of other uses?” Kronan asked.

  “Something along the lines of—” Matthias waved a hand, as if trying to pluck a word from the air “—communications.”

  Kronan frowned. “Communications?”

  Matthias shared a sly grin with Axel, who had picked up several of the scrolls and was walking them over to one of the cabinets behind Kronan. “Yes, I’ve been waiting on a message.” He let his words hang in the air, pinching each fingertip of his white gloves as he slowly removed them. “From your queen, no less.”

  Kronan’s eyes flickered with shock, but his features soon smoothed into a neutral mask. “You’ve . . . spoken with her? With Her Majesty? When?”

  It was Nathan’s turn to frown. Since when did the Veniri queen converse with the likes of Matthias?

  Matthias leaned against the counter and inspected his fingernails. “Yes, I spoke with her not too long ago. We organized an arrangement, and you see, I’ve upheld my end of the deal. But . . . I’ve yet to hear from your queen.” He spat that last word as if it tasted bitter.

  The Veniri queen speaking with a hunter was one thing, but for Queen Idalia and Matthias Branstone to be making deals together . . . the thought made Nathan’s stomach churn.

  “I . . . I can help. Yes,” confirmed Kronan. “I can leave at once and take a message to her, then return with a reply as swiftly as possible.” He bowed his head, much lower than necessary.

  “Hmm, that is one idea,” mused Matthias.

  Nathan held back a scoff. If Matthias was even considering Kronan’s suggestion, he was more stupid than Nathan had given him credit for.

  “But I have a better idea,” added Matthias.

  Kronan began to wring his hands, his eyes darting about the room.

  A split second after Nathan realized what was about to happen, Axel jumped Kronan and wrapped an arm under his chin. With a flash of crystal, the hunter plunged a Diamantium dagger into the curve between Kronan’s neck and shoulder. Kronan let out a startled cry, his hands latching on to Axel’s arm, trying to pry it away from his throat, but the gray-bearded hunter held firm.

  All the while, Matthias simply waited, silent, until Kronan’s struggles began to weaken.

  “Call your queen.” Matthias’s tone was clipped, all signs of lighthearted banter gone.

  Nathan blanched. He doubted Matthias meant for Kronan to get out a cell phone and dial the queen’s number. How does Matthias know about our aeriform way of communication? But then he felt stupid for even thinking the question. If Queen Idalia had been liaising with Matthias, of course she would rather relinquish centuries-old Veniri secrets than leave the safety of the hive to converse with a hunter face-to-face.

  Kronan fought Axel’s grip for a few more seconds before gurgling out, “I can’t.” The words turned into a wail of agony when Axel yanked on the dagger still buried in his neck.

 
“Don’t bother telling me you can’t,” warned Matthias, “because I know you can. She’s somehow connected to you, isn’t she?” He gestured to the teal rivulets of blood running down Kronan’s suit. “It’s got something to do with your blood. That much I know. So . . . how much needs to be spilled before you can call your slith queen, huh?”

  Kronan didn’t answer, but Nathan knew that look creeping over the Veniri’s face.

  Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.

  “Do you need to be alive for it to work?” Matthias asked.

  Kronan nodded at once, then immediately winced—most likely because of the knife in his neck, not because he was divulging ancient Veniri secrets.

  Coward, thought Nathan.

  “What are you waiting for?” Matthias pressed.

  Kronan kept his mouth shut, but his face was pale.

  “If you don’t call your queen right now, Axel will slice you open from jugular to navel,” Matthias said softly, but even from where Nathan crouched, he could see the storm clouds building behind Matthias’s placid mask.

  Without another moment’s hesitation, Kronan—unlike any other loyal, self-sacrificing Veniri would have—called upon his Divine Oath connection with the Veniri queen.

  Every muscle in Nathan’s body tensed as a tendril of teal smoke began to billow from Kronan’s wound. No one but the queen dared to instigate an aeriform connection. If Kronan was lucky, she wouldn’t answer.

  Matthias’s fingers tapped faster and faster on the counter with each passing second as the blue vapors swirled lazily in the air. “Where is she?” he eventually asked through gritted teeth.

  “She . . . she might be indisposed. Or busy. Maybe sleeping.”

  Depending on Matthias’s knowledge of Veniri culture, it was possible he knew Kronan’s blabbering was all nonsense. Whether asleep or not, the queen was very much aware she was being called upon.

  Another heartbeat passed. And then another. Until finally Matthias waved a dismissive hand and said, “Kill him.”

  “NO!” Kronan screamed. “Please, you need me!”

  Matthias shoved his face into Kronan’s, their noses millimeters apart. “You are of no use if you don’t even—”

  “What is the meaning of this?”

  The room fell silent as all eyes turned to the female figure in the blue mist. Queen Idalia, as usual, was dressed to both intimidate and seduce. Thousands of pearls formed the rigid outline of a ribcage over her torso, the daring design teasing glimpses of her pale skin underneath; one wrong move, and everyone was in for a peep show. A lace choker and ruffled sleeves complemented the decorative chest piece, and the pearl theme continued onto her face, with lustrous dots lining her eyes and lips, spilling across her nose, and swirling over her brow and cheeks.

  “Who dares to plague me with their presence?” The queen looked at each of the hunters but scarcely spared a glance for Kronan, despite his outstretched arm to her.

  Matthias chuckled, but Nathan still caught the venomous tone behind it. “Forgive me, Majesty, but our meeting is necessary and couldn’t wait any longer.”

  Idalia glared at him. “And why would you think that?”

  Matthias placed his hands on his hips. “Remind me how long it’s been since you promised to contact me on the whereabouts of”—he shot a sidelong glance at Kronan—“that particular object we spoke about?”

  Fury flashed across Idalia’s features before her face smoothed into a guise of composure. “Hmm.” She tapped a finger to her lips. “I’m not sure I recall a conversation about a particular object.” Her apparition drifted over to the gold tome exhibit and gazed at the winged creature with an expression of nonchalance. “This object . . . is it important?”

  “Of course not,” said Matthias slowly. “I’m merely upholding our trade agreement. I supply you with what you want, and you give me what I want.”

  “What I want? Are you sure? Because I believe I’m still waiting on a particular Erathi, Gloria Chambers.”

  Nathan froze. Gloria Chambers? Fear zapped down his spine like a bolt of electricity.

  Matthias scratched at the stubble on his jaw. “Yes, well, that woman has proven to be difficult to track down, even for my men. What’s your infatuation with her anyway? Surely there’s more to this world than trudging to the ends of the earth looking for one measly woman.”

  Idalia glided over to him, laid a smoky teal finger on Matthias’s cheek, and dragged it down to his jaw. “Really? And what more is there? What more could the likes of you possibly offer me?”

  Despite the alluring smile that played on the queen’s lips, Matthias’s eyes narrowed. He pointed to Kronan, now slumped in Axel’s grip. “Take a closer look at that slith. He’s your cousin, is he not? If you don’t give me what I want, I will end him. Right here. Right now.”

  Idalia fluttered her fingers in an offhand gesture. “Do whatever you like with him.”

  “No,” wheezed Kronan. “Your Majesty, please.”

  The queen ignored him and turned her back on Matthias.

  Matthias’s face screwed up with rage. His fists clenched and his body shook. “Don’t cross me, slith, or I’ll hunt you down. I will send every last hunter out to find you, and I’ll tear every last blood-soaked shard from your wretched body.”

  Idalia cast him an imperious glance over her shoulder. “We’re finished. Don’t contact me again.” With a flurry of blue, her apparition vanished, and the remainder of the teal mist dissipated.

  Matthias roared out a torrent of foul abuse, punching and swiping at the empty air in a vicious tantrum. All the while, Kronan was screaming, begging for Idalia to save him, but his cries were cut off when one of Matthias’s punches landed square in the Veniri’s face. Axel released Kronan and let him tumble to the floor. The faint rise and fall of Kronan’s chest confirmed that he was still alive—for now, at least.

  Matthias slumped against the counter and let his head drop into his hands.

  “Do you think she figured out what it is?” Axel cleaned the blade of his Diamantium dagger with his white gloves.

  “Perhaps, or perhaps not. She probably figures if I want it, it’s something worth keeping in her possession.” Matthias raked his fingers through his hair before throwing his arms down in frustration. “After five millennia, the shifters have practically forgotten all about the spangles, or at least their history . . . and what they’re rumored to be capable of.”

  He opened the chest on the counter, and Axel came to stand next to him.

  “Well, you have four of them at least,” said Axel.

  “Four is not ten,” said Matthias, as if he were speaking to a moron. “I need all ten.”

  Axel shrugged. “We know where the teal one is. That slith queen playing coy confirmed that. And we know where the purple one is—we just need to figure out how to get it, considering none of us have any gills. As for the orange one, well, apparently the clangers’ prince keeps it on his person—at least, that’s the word on the street. I’ve got one of my boys tailing him, and he’ll send word when the time is right.” Axel twisted a strand of his gray beard between his fingers. “Although, we do have a clanger here now. What about the idea of using him as bait?”

  Matthias shook his head. “No. That would only work if he was a member of the royal family. This one’s just a boy Hestus and Quill picked up at a video game arcade.”

  “Hmm . . . still, that only leaves the gold, black, and emerald ones.”

  “Yes, thank you for that insightful rundown.” Matthias’s tone dripped sarcasm. “In the meantime, the new plan to acquire the teal one is—”

  Nathan jerked as a sharp pain in his ribs snatched his attention away from Matthias and Axel’s conversation. He looked down to find a Diamantium dagger digging into his side, held by a livid Nika.

  “What the hell?” she mouthed, yanking on his arm and forcing him to follow her quietly out the door.

  When they were several paces down the hallway, she whirled
on him. “Have you got some kind of death wish? I swear, if I didn’t have explicit orders from Sagan, I would’ve left you here to rot. Do you have any idea how freaking hard it was to find you?”

  Nathan didn’t bother answering. Yes, following Kronan was possibly one of the stupidest things he’d ever done. Nevertheless, he’d found vital information.

  But . . . what the hell was a spangle? And why did Matthias want them so badly?

  Nika swiftly led him back through the hallways. They had to pause once or twice to wait for hunters to pass by, but on the whole, the corridors were still empty. Perhaps things weren’t yet under control with the Lycan escapees.

  Finally, the two of them reunited with Thane and Tio in another unused part of Tempecrest, based on the rugged stone walls and dusty, uneven flooring. Thane’s expression as they approached was a mixture of curiosity and annoyance.

  “I’ll explain later,” Nathan promised.

  Ducking into a large stone room, Nika stepped up to the edge of a round hole in the floor. She glared pointedly at Nathan and inclined her head to the black opening. “You first.”

  “Seriously?” Tio asked. “You want us to go down there?”

  “Do you want out of here?” Nika retorted.

  “Yeah, but . . .” Tio’s nose scrunched up as he studied the hole. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Nika rolled her eyes. “Get over it. These sewers haven’t been used for hundreds of years. Besides, it’s the quickest way to the boat.”

  At the mention of a boat, all three shifters scrambled down through the ancient latrine and through the sewer tunnels.

  Only once Tempecrest Island was a distant speck on the watery horizon did Nathan finally feel free.

  7

  Shattered Beyond Repair?

  Every muscle in Violet’s body ached—no, burned. It was as if every cell, every molecule, sparked into a blaze whenever she moved. She knew she ought to stay still, but her stiff body desperately needed a stretch. She groaned; even stirring slightly sent flames of pain licking down her spine.