A Lost Light (The Bestiary #4)

11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Elijah

W orking with the amplifier proved to be no easier than handling the nullifier. If the smoking crater where Aahil had just been standing seconds before was any indication, it was even more dangerous.

Our entire group was made up of individuals who were stronger-than-usual examples of their kind. Magnifying that was apparently a bad idea.

I hoped the fae who looked after this vast stretch of land weren't too irate when they saw what we had done to it. Aahil reappeared a few feet away, and everyone present let out a collective breath of relief. For a moment there, it had seemed as if the jinn had burned himself out of existence.

“That was… enlightening,” Aahil said flatly. He arched one dark brow, and held out the amplifying artifact he was carrying. “Anyone else care to get a taste for unimaginable power and possibly lose their fucking mind?”

Andy huffed. “Are you okay, Aahil? Goddess, you scared the living hells out of us.”

He shrugged one shoulder in a graceful ripple of movement that only he could execute, then he disappeared again in a shower of sparks.

We all looked at each other as the seconds ticked by. Hasumi was frowning. Which was concerning, considering how unruffled they usually were. I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong, but Aahil chose that moment to reappear in a massive wash of warm, sensual magic.

He was laughing uncontrollably, his lean, bare abs flexing as he bent double with one arm wrapped around his torso. “Oh. Fuck. Is this what humans feel like when they get high?”

Andy rolled her eyes and strode over to him, yanking the amplifier out of his hand and shaking her head at him. “What happened this time?”

He straightened, wiping tears of laughter from his golden eyes. “I teleported. All the way to the other side of the planet. And almost right off it altogether.” Squinting up at the midday sun, he sighed. “It's much warmer here.”

Hasumi was still frowning. “Tell us what really happened,” the ethereal water weaver demanded, prowling toward Aahil with all the rippling grace of a river. “You were distressed.”

Aahil sighed. “Can't a person have any fun before you go shouting their secrets from the rooftops?”

Hasumi didn't react to the jinn's tone. Our water weaver was nearly impossible to rile. “What upset you so, flame?”

Aahil rolled his eyes. “For a second there, I thought I wouldn't be able to come back… to reform my essence.” He shrugged again, as if they were just discussing the weather. “You know how, when you dematerialize, it feels like… expanding? And then you pull yourself toward whatever destination you have in mind and kind of… suck yourself back together?”

Hasumi nodded slowly at this rather inelegant description. “Yes.”

Aahil gave the weaver a wry look before glancing nervously at Andy and away. “Well, it was a tad bit difficult not to just scatter forever. To remember who I was and pull back. And when I did manage it, there were… penguins.”

Andy lifted a hand to rub her forehead. “Goddess fucking fuck.”

Aahil huffed a laugh and moved closer to her, reaching up to cup her cheek and make her look at him. “Stop the unnecessary fussing,” he demanded, pausing to kiss her chin. “I'm here now. I figured it out.”

She shook her head. “You figured it out. Great.”

Hasumi took the orb from Andy's hand and our witch jerked toward them in panic. But the weaver just smiled and touched her shoulder, sending a wash of calm over all of us. “I am more cautious than our flame. I will be fine.”

Then Hasumi was gone.

“I'm going to have white hair by the time this is all over,” Andy muttered as she nibbled at a fingernail. Zhong moved to her side and rubbed a big hand over her back.

I watched with a strange combination of warmth and anxiety in my chest. It was touching to see how easily they all cared for each other. And yet… terrifying, when we were out here taking such risks. And soon enough it would be my turn. The gods and goddesses only knew what kind of craziness would ensue when they handed a magic amplifier to an angelic revenant.

“Don't worry,” a deep voice said from beside and slightly behind me. “I'll go first. That way we'll have an idea how it will affect necromantic magic. This shouldn't be as risky for you as the nullifier. If anything, it should strengthen your binding to your body and juice up your angelic magic. Nothing disastrous.”

His cool hand pressed against my back, between my shoulder blades, where my wings rooted into my back. Before my reanimation, Dyre would have been my last choice for most comforting housemate. But now… his strange, cool touch did more to reassure me than his words. I leaned into it without conscious thought, and he moved his hand higher, silently gripping the back of my neck, squeezing the tense muscles there.

This was something we definitely needed to talk about. But with everything else that had been going on, my strange new attachment to the necromancer was the least of our concerns. Still, I knew I shouldn't feel quite so bereft when he let go of my neck and strode off to take the orb from a calmly waiting Hasumi.

“Aahil is right,” the water weaver was telling Andy. “It takes some adjustment to calibrate travel. And…” they paused to glance at Aahil before continuing. “To keep from losing myself in my element. I can feel the ocean from here. It whispers to me.” They tilted their head, and their turquoise eyes glowed. “I think I could move it, if I wished. Call it to me.” Shaking themselves, they held out the orb to Dyre. “Be careful. I have a feeling the ancient one inside you may struggle.”

Dyre nodded once and took the orb. As usual, he was difficult to read. He showed not an ounce of hesitation or fear, his gauntly handsome face devoid of expression. But I thought he was hiding his true feelings. Perhaps the necromancer was more complex than we all assumed.

His fingers closed around the orb, and suddenly I was sure of that. I could feel him, somehow. Like a second (and maybe third?) presence inside my own mind. The faint whispers of a conversation that you could just barely overhear if you strained. Interest. Curiosity. Fear. Worry. Loneliness. Tenderness. And then the power slammed into me, dropping me to my knees.

Dyre released a slow, shaky breath as he stared at the ground. When he lifted his head, his eyes were pure black, glittering and cold. “There's so many of them,” he whispered, eyes scanning our surroundings, seeing things the rest of us couldn't see. “They're everywhere, calling out to me. They want to rise .”

My legs shook as I pushed myself back up to my feet. I felt so strong. So determined. I moved closer to Dyre without thinking, called to my master. Ready to do his bidding. If only he would hurry up and raise my brothers and sisters so we could carry out his will….

“Dyre,” Andy called out. “Whatever the fuck you're doing, you need to stop!”

A black aura hung over us all, invisible but heavy, pressing down, squeezing, compelling, leeching the life from the world. The others had closed ranks around Andy, instinctively protecting our witch, the heart of our family. But I was frozen, torn between the desire to see her safe and the need to be with my maker.

My feet moved of their own accord, taking me closer to Dyre. His long red hair lifted in a breeze that touched only him, a blood-bright splash of color in a rapidly dulling world of gray. More darkness fell as Ambrose appeared at his back, wrapping his arms around Dyre's narrow waist and resting his head against the necromancer's back. “Hey sweetheart,” the boogeyman murmured. “Let go of the power,” he cajoled, his own dark shadow magic reacting to the artifact, amplified, curling around us all in hungry tentacles of fear. He could take over. Probably. Swamp Dyre's mind with nightmares and wrestle the orb from his hands.

But would that make Dyre react? Right now, the necromancer wasn't actually using the dark magic that pulsed around him. If he felt he was in danger, he might accidentally do something awful. Like raise every dead thing within miles. Or tap into Sunny's hunger and start feasting on souls.

And he would never forgive himself for harming the others. Not my sweet, powerful, self-loathing master. The thoughts were absurd. I knew that. And yet….

I shuffled closer. One step. Another. A faint glow began to suffuse the darkness, a warm, fuzzy gold among the shadows. There was a yearning in me. A call to mend what the dark being had just thrown out of balance.

Moving through the murk of black magic that poured off from Dyre and Ambrose was like wading through a river with a strong current. But I kept going, the glow around me increasing until I stood before Dyre, and he had to squint those black eyes against the radiance of angelic magic that poured off my outstretched wings.

“Elijah,” he said, his deep voice more resonant than ever, full of dark promise and command. I shuddered, waiting for his orders, even as I felt my own magic reaching for him, my wings arching up and forward, wrapping around the man who had given me a second chance at life.

“Master,” I whispered, my arms going around his neck as Ambrose released him into my embrace. I enfolded Dyre in my wings, hiding us both from everyone around us.

The artifact thudded to the ground, and I kicked it out of the way so I could press closer, so I could hold the slender, fragile body of this immensely powerful being against my own. Dyre's long arms wrapped around my waist, and he buried his face in the crook of my neck. He was taller than me, even in my newly shaped and molded body, but he hunched over, curled around the darkness in his core.

“Sunny?” I whispered, concerned about the battle that seemed to be raging inside my creator.

“It burns,” the ancient wraith hissed against my neck. “The light. It hurts.”

I nodded. “I know. I'm sorry. But I can't let you make Dyre do something he'll regret.”

Fingers dug into my back, and I was immensely grateful my master didn't have claws, like some of our other companions, as he clung to me. “Make it stop.”

His deep voice was rough and broken, but it was Dyre who spoke. Not Sunshine. Taking in a deep breath, I made a massive effort and pulled my magic back inside myself.

“Well,” Andy said, her voice shaky, coming from somewhere behind us. “At least we know no one stands a fucking chance against us if we have to hand the damned artifact off to Dyre. Fuck that was… well, just fuck .”

I didn't think Dyre was the only one she had to be afraid of. My own magic was every bit as powerful as my superiors in the choir had been afraid it would one day be, back when I was alive. I could have manipulated them all, reached out and toyed with the soul spark of every being in this meadow just now. And they couldn't have stopped me.

Only the necromancer could command me. And yet he had no interest in that, even with the limitless power of the orb singing through his dark veins.

Dyre's grip on me loosened, and I felt the first inkling of embarrassment over my strange thoughts and behaviors. I moved back slightly, allowing space between us once more, though my wings still arched around us in a curtain of sparkling light. Dyre's violet eyes regarded me from inches away as his cool hands came to rest on my hips.

“Are you okay?” the terrifying necromancer asked in a hushed whisper.

I huffed a laugh as I shook my head. “I'm fairly certain I should be asking you that, necromancer. And yet… I already know the answer. I suspect you do too?” I could feel him still, through whatever strange bond we shared. And I suspected he had an even clearer read on me. Since I was his creation.

He closed his eyes in a long blink before letting out a sigh and meeting my gaze again. “Yes.” His intense gaze searched my face for a moment as we completely ignored the chaos and questions around us, hidden away in our glowing shelter. “I was hoping you couldn't feel it,” he murmured with a wry grimace. “The bond. I'm sorry.”

I placed my hand on his chest, over his sluggishly beating heart. “You gave me life. I can hardly be angry at a few… side effects.”

He covered my hand with his own, and it felt oddly right somehow. “A permanent bond with a creepy necromancer is hardly a minor side effect. I should have thought about the implications before I offered to do the spell. Now you're stuck with me. With us . Forever.”

I knew I should see a problem with this. Any other angel in my position would probably be fainting from the moral implications of being tied to an abomination like Dyre. Let alone from the fact that I was a ghost inhabiting a corpse that didn't belong to me. But I couldn't find it in me to be repulsed.

Leaning in slowly, I pressed my lips to his, finally obeying what this yearning was telling me to do.

Dyre froze, going rigid under my touch. I fought a wave of mortification as I pulled back to find him watching me with wary violet eyes.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” he said stiffly.

This was definitely the part where my brethren would curse my soul to eternal damnation or something equally dramatic. I released the necromancer I had just assaulted, and dropped my wings, pulling the last bits of my magic in close to myself. “Apologies.”

Dyre opened his mouth to speak, but I didn't want to hear the careful rejection that came next. I was an idiot. A walking corpse the man had brought to life using dark magic. Of course he didn't want to kiss me. Perhaps this borrowed brain of mine was rotting.