CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Asher sat bolt upright in the bed, sweat beading on his heated skin as he sucked in deep breaths. He didn’t feel well. Not at all. Something was wrong.
“Is everything alright, my love?” Darius pushed up on his elbows to look at Asher, still waiting for an answer.
A wave of nausea hit Asher hard. He leaped from the bed, almost tripping as his legs tangled in the sheets. He crossed the room in search of something he could use to be sick in. He grabbed a vase that Darius had some weird floral arrangement in and emptied it on the floor before bringing it to his face. The contents of his stomach left him, his muscles going into spasm as he retched again and again into the vessel.
Darius swung his legs out from under the sheets and slipped out of the bed, crossing the room to where Asher had collapsed onto the floor. Crouching, he placed his hand to Asher’s forehead and frowned, “Darling, you are burning up. Let’s get you back to bed.”
Asher just nodded, it was all he could muster.
Using Darius as a crutch, he made it to the bed, the vase still in his hands. He felt like his body was on fire and yet not burning, not in the normal sense. The sensation of cold flames licking his skin sent a shiver through him as Darius conjured a bowl of water and a cloth from gods knew where and began to stroke his brow with it.
Something was wrong and it wasn’t anything he had ever experienced before. In his forty-four years on the earth he had suffered many illnesses, both fae-made and nature-given, but he had never felt how he did at that moment.
Burning up, yet icy to the touch. His skin felt as if something was crawling under it, and he wanted nothing more than to claw it off him. “I don’t know what”s wrong with me.” He struggled to get out, his teeth clenched as he fought the cold burn in his chest. It felt like something was burrowing in deep, settling into his very bones, creating a pull but to what he had no clue.
“Stay there, do not even try to get that beautiful body out of bed, I am sending for a healer.” Darius snapped his fingers and just like that, disappeared.
If he hadn’t been in so much pain Asher would have laughed, the male left in such a hurry that he hadn’t even pulled on a robe. Wherever he was going they would be sure to get an eyeful.
Another wave of sickness hit. Groaning at the nausea, squeezing his eyes shut, Asher hugged the vase close, a battle of will ensuing as he fought to keep what little was left in his stomach. He was barely aware of Darius’s return.
“You could have reminded me I was naked before allowing me to dash off.” He laughed a little as he pulled his robe from the foot of the bed and tugged it on, quickly securing it at the waist. “If the healer’s wife’s face had burned any redder upon seeing my splendid body she would have gone up in flames. And let”s be honest, after seeing all this the poor male will have to pull out all the stops to try and wipe me from her mind.”
Asher tried to keep from being sick as he chuckled tiredly, the pains in his body draining him of energy. “Forgive me, I was a little preoccupied.”
“Never worry, the healer will be here in the shake of a Pingor’s tail, he is grabbing a few things and will be following me here.”
As if the mere mention had summoned him, the healer appeared at Darius’s side with his leather satchel in his arms. The bag was so full of medicinal tinctures they made a soft, dull clinking sound as he set it on the bed. Darius must have dropped the wards, the male must have been worried to keep them down long enough, to allow the male into his safe space.
“So, Levi, can you tell me what happened?”
The healer began to examine him. A wrung out Asher explained, between bouts of retching, how he had woken feeling ill.
As he listened, he sounded Asher’s chest then after that he checked his throat and tongue. He took a sample of his vomit and tested it, checking for signs of poison.
Asher groaned, this time not from the pain wracking through his body, but to the name Darius had given the healer. It had become a private joke between them. Levi was the name he had used when he first met the flamboyant male. Even though he now knew Asher’s true name, Darius insisted on using the persona when they were among others. He deemed it necessary and stated time and again that it was that precaution that kept people from finding out who and what Asher was.
He struggled but was eventually able to explain how he was sleeping and had woken up to the burning of his skin and the pain in his head.
After another examination the healer stood, scratched his jaw, and shook his head, “You haven’t been poisoned, you do not appear to have eaten anything to have caused this sort of physical reaction. To be frank, I am at a loss as to what is causing the pain.” Having nothing else to do, the healer left a balm for Asher to use that would aid with the pain then left.
“At least we can thank Solslorn for some small mercies.” Darius settled once more on the edge of the bed.
But Asher was not feeling like the god of the Summer Quartaine was giving him any mercy’s, in fact, he felt as if they were roasting him alive. The sensation of the skin on his back burning, intensified.
Crying out in pain Asher, bent forward and with the vessel clutched in his grasp he heaved what was left in his stomach, into it.
The action drew Darius’s eyes to the place on Asher’s back that once held an elaborate ornate designed tattoo.
“What the fuck is going on?”
Asher turned his head, the motion itself pulling a whimper from him, “I am sick, what does it look like?” He set the foul-smelling container of vomit on the floor by the bed and lay flat, his bare chest on the cool silk sheet.
“I know that, but the ink, the one on your back...it is gone! How is that possible?” Trailing his fingertips over Asher’s back, his skin overly hot to the touch, Darius couldn’t fathom how a tattoo that had appeared to be years old could just disappear.
“What do you mean it’s gone? It can’t be, it is my bon–” Asher caught himself before outing the truth of his brotherhood. “It is a mage placed bond, it will only disappear when I die. I may feel like death right now, but I can assure you I am still very much alive.”
His body was beginning to cool, but something stirred in Asher.
His body felt full, not physically but magically. And as if that awareness was a key, the door in his mind swung open and Asher winced once more in pain as he felt a tumultuous storm of emotions bombard him. He had always had the ability to reach out, mentally caress another”s mind to take a sip of their emotions, a natural-born gift he had worked to control, but it now felt like it was so much more.
Asher crawled over the bed and pushed to stand on shaky legs as Darius was immediately by his side holding him up, “You are weak, Ash. You need to rest. Your body is obviously going through some kind of metamorphosis.”
It was a struggle to remain upright, but Asher needed to see what Darius was talking about. There was no way his Guild bond could be gone. Perhaps whatever illness the healer had missed was now attacking his lover and scrambling his brain.
Taking a few wobbly steps forward, Darius by his side, Asher stopped before the large ornate mirror positioned against the wall, its golden frame running floor to ceiling and as wide as it was long. He carefully turned, half expecting to see it there and to tease the male supporting him that he perhaps needed a healer to look at his sight. But as his eyes fell to the pale, unmarked skin of his back, his mind began to race.
What sort of magic could erase a soul bond? He assumed it was magic because there was nothing else it could be. If the bond had been broken on purpose how was he still alive? A forced break always resulted in immediate death. He should know that part was etched in his brain, he would never forget the warning given to him by the mage who had placed the bond on him at the request of the inner circle of the Guild.
“This is not good, this is so not good.”
Asher glanced over at the sleeping form of his on again, off again, lover. The male was stretched out on his stomach, his head resting on his arms, his leg hitched to brace the position. If the gods had decided to make a male of perfection, the one sleeping at his side was it. From his eyes to his build, everything was perfect.
After the initial shock of the night, Asher had finally convinced Darius that he was okay. The pain had subsided, his skin no longer burned or felt painful to touch. Happy in the knowledge Asher was going to be alright, Darius settled beside him, an arm resting over Asher’s hip. But sleep evaded Asher and try as he might, he was unable to quiet his racing mind.
The bond mark was gone. He had never heard of such a thing happening. He was in between assignments and had done what he always had and spent his free time with the male at his side.
He needed to decide what his next course of action should be. His missing bond put forward a dilemma. One that could be dangerous regardless of his own actions. If he left and went back to the Guild, chances were they would not believe the mark had just disappeared. They would debrief him, then question him on what he was doing, where he was, and who else knew what had transpired. All this had a dire fall out that could affect Darius and he didn’t want that. But on the flip side, if he used this to his advantage he could be free. Actually free from any tie to the Guild.
He had wished for nothing more since the day Violet not so kindly reminded him that no matter how many assignments he did for the Guild he would never be close to paying off his debt to them. He may have been the best they had, but being the best came at a very high price.
No, he had to return because no matter how tempting it was to disappear, becoming a nobody, a ghost, they would find him.
Fuck, they had found Eli.
It was true it had taken them over a decade to do it, but time was irrelevant to a race of people who lived as long as fae did. Time spent was valued less than what you actually did with it. If they found Eli they would no doubt find him also.
He would take whatever punishment they deemed he was worthy of. He knew the breaking of the bond was not his doing whether they believed him or not was neither here nor there.
He would face them, do what they suggested and continue to pay his contract out. He was a male of honor. At least, in so much as an assassin and thief could be. What he wasn’t sure about was what way they would react to his broken bond. Would they believe it just disappeared? Or would they think he had paid to have it removed? If they believed the latter, he would be punished. How could he prove it though? He couldn’t bring Darius, he didn’t want him linked to them in any way. If they knew he was carrying on an entanglement with him he would be reprimanded for it. Either way, he was going to have to face it.
Running was not an option.
What Asher had neglected to tell the sleeping Darius was that although the pain had eased, and his body was now in recovery he was experiencing something entirely different.
But for some reason he didn’t feel like sharing that with him. It wasn’t due to lack of trust. He trusted the male with his life. He was afraid. If the bond was the first step in whatever was happening to him then what was building in him was the next stage of it.
He was recognizing it for what it appeared to be, like Darius had said, a sort of metamorphosis.
As he laid in bed beside the softly snoring male, Asher could feel a current of power vibrate through him. Kind of like he had trapped a bolt of lightning in a bottle and was watching and feeling as it rattled around seeking an outlet.
It was thrilling but scary.
Each time he tried to relax enough to sleep, letting his mind relax, the emotions of what he assumed were those in the rooms below them washed over him like tidal waves. Lust, heartache, fear, anger, despair...a strange hurricane that bombarded him until he had finally been able to raise his mental shields as he had been taught so long ago.
As he struggled to rebuild them he sent out a wish of calm over the souls who were in emotional despair, those quieted first. As they settled he willed those who were angered to take a breath and relax, those too calmed and that overwhelming emotion subsided. He was too tired to relish and bathe in the waves of lust soaking into him.
With the last push of the mental block his shield was once more in place.
The only emotions he felt were his own, no others but try as he might each time he settled to sleep he had to repeat the process until he gave up on the idea of rest. It was at that point, the pinnacle of realization hit him that something else was going on.
As if in acknowledgment the power rumbled in greeting causing Asher to inwardly blanch. He could feel the buildup and containment of energy and power that settled deep within him. It was so much more than anything he ever possessed before.
He needed answers.
The only place he might get them would be through an oracle or possibly one of the librarians in the Guild. They not only kept information on assignments, or information on the Quartaine’s, but also of the powers each seasonal section held. Whatever it was he would have to cut his stay short.
It was like the moment he thought it, the next he was standing quietly fully dressed, daggers in place, at the bedside of the still sleeping male. Asher had penned him a note and placed it on his pillow with a rose settled upon it. In it he kept it short and sweet. He told him not to worry, he needed to find out why his bond had been broken and that he would return as soon as he could.
Moving with stealth Asher dropped a kiss to the soft lips of the beautiful male before evanescing away.