Chapter 7
Archer walked directly behind Lyra as they approached Jeremy’s door, guarding her back, she suspected.
They found Marik in Jeremy’s bedroom, staring at the perfect depiction of angel wings made of dust. He turned and opened his mouth, but before a sound could emerge, a shadow appeared at the corner of the room.
Something that looked like a huge snake thrust through the wall and bound Marik in a tight grip.
It looked as though it were made of solid light, making no sound at all.
Marik did, though, screaming and creating jagged arcs of magick that stabbed the thing. It didn’t budge.
Archer bowed his shoulders, and wings tore through his shirt. He roared in pain as they pushed out to their full width. “Don’t go Dragon, Lyra,” he growled, launching toward the snake.
It and Marik disappeared.
“Hell,” he said, turning to Lyra. He pulled her back to his chest as he threw himself against the wall. “It will come back if it sensed we were in the room, too.”
“Why shouldn’t I catalyze?” she whispered.
He leaned close to her, his breath fanning her ear. “If it senses your Dragon, it will go after you. Now, be quiet.”
His wings folded over her, cocooning her in his cool embrace. A light as fine as mist shielded them seconds before the snake thrust through the wall again.
What in the holy hell could Caidos do?
Archer’s wings tightened over her, his arms crossed over her stomach, a full shield. The snake was blind, or so it seemed, feeling around the room looking for them. Her Dragon strained to come out. But Archer wasn’t fighting the snake, and he wasn’t afraid of much.
No, he’s afraid for you.
She shivered, then realized he’d feel everything she did.
She swallowed her fear as the snake hovered a few feet in front of them.
Archer’s fingers pressed into her stomach now, his muscles rock hard and ready to fight.
The snake sensed them, all right. Archer’s shield kept it from being sure, apparently, because it didn’t grab them.
It touched all around the shield. It pulled back finally and searched the room, even under the bed. Then it disappeared back into the wall.
Archer didn’t release her. Did he think it would return again? A minute passed. Then two. She felt his chest rising and falling, pressing against her with each breath.
“Will it come back?” she whispered at last.
“I don’t think so.” He hadn’t whispered, so he must be pretty sure.
“Then why are we still here like this?”
“I’m processing.”
Well, okay, then. She was too curious to let that pass, though. She turned her head slightly, seeing that his face was still rigid. “Processing what?”
“How it felt when I thought you might be grabbed.”
She turned now, staying in the cocoon he’d created. “How did it feel?”
His arms released her but rested on her shoulders once she turned to face him. His eyes shimmered frantically, staring at nothing in particular. “Like dying.”
Those words clamped around her heart. She wanted to touch his face the way he’d touched hers.
“I’m okay. I tried to hold in the horror of what I saw, of Marik being taken.
And my fear,” she said. “I don’t want to hurt you.
” She understood how dangerous that knowledge was now. Someone could torture him on purpose.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Sorry, my thoughts—and feelings—ran away from me. Do you want me to move back?”
His fingers tightened, and she expected him to push her away. Instead, he pulled her against him. “No.” She could hear his breathing, long deep breaths, his hands splayed on her back. “Your heat…” he murmured.
“You’re so cool.” Her hand hovered over the side of his bare chest, wanting to touch him.
“Feels good.” His voice, low and ragged, melted into her.
He seemed to be drawing her heat inside him, and she wanted to give it to him, to warm him. Such pain, so cold. Was this how human females had tempted the angels?
“It wasn’t the humans’ fault,” she whispered. “We’re drawn together, each giving a part of ourselves to the other. Needing each other.”
Lyra was weakening him. Somehow, in her haze, she realized this. The tremors running through his body, so apparent as they pressed close, had to be pain. Pain at his desire. It took everything inside her to step back.
He blinked, as though coming out of a spell. His hand rubbed across his bare chest, where she could see his heated skin.
“Thank you,” he said, but she didn’t know whether it was for giving him heat or pulling it away.
“Is this part of the Thrall, Archer? That I want to go inside you and yank out the curse that makes desire hurt?”
“Not that I’ve heard of. Is that how you feel?”
She nodded, and their gazes locked. It seemed difficult for him to tear his away.
He did, going to the wall where the snake had come through.
He ran his hands all along the surface. “I don’t feel anything, no portal or even residual magick.
The power contained in that snake was tremendous.
I could have fought it, and maybe won, but I didn’t want to chance your safety.
I’ve heard of Caidos who hold dark power, but I’ve never seen one. ”
He knelt down and began scooping the wing dust into his palm.
His wings shimmered with his movements. She did the same, until none remained on the floor.
The dust felt electric. She poured it into his hand.
The glow that surrounded him made her feel as though she were in a dream.
He seemed bigger, though he hadn’t physically grown.
Lyra found a dish filled with coins, dumped them out, and handed it to him.
He poured the dust in and set it on the dresser.
“Whoever is behind this has taken too many people. We have to get them back.” Then he bowed, planted his hands on his thighs, and retracted his wings.
It didn’t look as painful as when they’d come out.
He released a breath, his dark gaze on the bowl of dust.
“Could that happen to you, too?” she asked.
“Yes. Sometimes I think it would be sweet relief to die and be free of the pain.”
“Don’t ever do that,” she said, the words tumbling out.
He considered her for a moment, a Mona Lisa smile on his face. “Don’t worry. I have no intention of dying anytime soon. I have a good life when I’m isolated in my world.”
“When you’re not working with an emotional Dragon,” she said.
He took her in with a measure of amusement. “You were trouble. I sensed it from the start.”
“That’s why you were so cold and awful to me?”
“Yes.”
“And manipulated me into drinking that horrible absinthe?”
“Maybe.” Not a whiff of apology either. The man who’d answered the door in a towel and nearly closed that door in her face seemed different from the one in front of her now. Definitely not cold and uncaring.
Kye’s words about “issues inherent in such a union” came to mind. Now Lyra knew what those issues were. “Kye said something about an Essex. What is it?”
“It’s an essence exchange.” Archer leaned against the dresser, mindful of the bowl.
“Our own emotions aren’t painful, but they are uncomfortable.
Unnatural. Most Caidos find that repressing them is easier than dealing with them.
But as always, our human side wants to experience joy, desire.
We can exchange our essence with another Crescent’s essence, which temporarily relieves the pain of feeling. Or so I understand.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before? I can give—”
“For that very reason. From what I hear, that relief is like a drug, the same as OxyContin is to Mundanes. Once we taste it, we want it again. And again. We get addicted.”
“But if a Crescent wanted to give you her power to sustain you—”
“It will weaken you. Eventually your Dragon will wither, the same as if you moved away from the Field that sustains our god essence. I would need more, more, never enough. Only the weakest Caidos are tempted to do that with one person. Only the most selfish.”
Archer wasn’t selfish. Or weak.
She let out a long breath. “It really is impossible.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you. You have a good heart, Lyra. I knew you would offer.” He brushed his hand across her cheek. “But I understand why Jeremy craves that feeling now.”
“Have you ever been in love, Archer?”
He hesitated before answering. “No. Have you?”
“Lots of times, but only in a superficial way. In an I-can’t-wait-for-him-to-call way, not in an I’ll-give-you-my-power way. Never that way.”
When he winced, she pushed the thought away, hard as it was. “Tell me what it felt like just now.”
“A pulsing pain, like someone twisting my insides. And when you make that face and feel pity, it’s like fingers jabbing me.”
“Sorry.” She took a breath, trying to clear away her emotions. “Now what do we do?”
“When Jeremy and Marik did the Cobra, it triggered something that sent him to your father. That something must have been about Tara. Maybe it involved her husband, too.” He rubbed the back of his head.
“If we can’t figure out what that something was, we have to find out who has the power to use his Light in a way that can create a giant snake. ”
“This Caido would also be powerful enough to, say, change a fetus’s orientation. There has to be a connection.”
“Exactly what I was thinking. I need to find out who Jeremy knew with that kind of power. Then I go after him.”
“We, Archer. We go after him. It’s my father among the missing.
I’m not sitting around worrying about you.
” Another glance at the dust, even scarier now because it made her think of Archer being incinerated.
“My Dragon is strong, you know.” She felt it stir in pride and rubbed the place where the tattoo tingled.
Another more horrifying thought twisted inside her.
“You could be turned into a wraith. If something happens to you, what do I do?” She cleared her throat. "With your remains?"
“Call the Raphael and ask for Grayson’s number. He’ll know what to do. You’ll have twenty-four hours.”