Ruby fever epb, p.25
Ruby Fever EPB, page 25
Linus leaned back. I recognized that pose. He was in his teaching mode.
“An ice mage attacks while hiding in a crowd. How do you find him?”
“He will be the one with the fever.”
Magic altered the natural laws, but it didn’t destroy them. An ice mage drastically lowered the temperature of the targeted body of water, and while magic dealt with most of the displaced heat, some of it slipped through. The air around the ice mage would become noticeably warmer. If they kept it up long enough, they would start to sweat, and their face would flush.
“We define ice mages as those who freeze, but we could also define them as those who inefficiently generate heat through displacement.”
Where was he going with this?
“The siren beguiles and seduces. Our magic is named for her, but she also has a counterpart.”
Alessandro slipped into the room and stopped. I paused the video and patted the blanket next to me. I didn’t want to hide anything from him.
He approached, pulled off his boots, and sprawled on the blankets next to me. I scooted closer to him. He put his head on my bare thigh. I restarted Linus’ magnum opus.
“. . . she also has a counterpart. The harpy.”
What?
“The harpy flies on black wings. When she emerges, she doesn’t coax. She destroys.”
“The harpy?” Alessandro murmured.
“Your magic is survival based,” Linus said. “From the moment you were born, it began assessing the environment and attempting to eliminate those it perceived as a threat. From speaking to your mother, I know that you’ve encountered some people who have been unaffected, like your pediatrician. People like that truly had your best interest in their heart. However, they are very few and far between.”
“Who else besides the pediatrician?” Alessandro said. “And me, of course.”
“Cornelius and Runa are both immune,” I told him. “It’s strange, because the immunity developed gradually.”
“Most people are fundamentally selfish. While they may not actively wish you harm, when given a choice between your survival and self-interest, they will choose self-interest. That’s enough for your passive magic field to designate them as a threat. Your pediatrician, on the other hand, would literally die to keep you safe.”
On screen, Linus took another sip of his drink.
“Through no fault of your own, you grew up terrified of your power, and you’ve exerted an enormous effort to keep it contained. Your control is outstanding. But to achieve that control, you’ve suppressed a lot of your emotional needs to limit other people’s exposure to your magic. You didn’t date. You didn’t have friends. You denied yourself the web of human relationships that keeps us anchored among others of our kind. Humans are social animals, Catalina. We may choose to be solitary, but it comes at a cost.
“The last couple of years have brought a lot of firsts to you. First best friend. First opportunity to solely shoulder a heavy responsibility. First love. First heartbreak.”
I ran my hands through Alessandro’s hair.
“First deliberate decision to kill,” Linus said. “Not because someone else said you should, but as a consequence of your own assessment. It’s a coming of emotional age of sorts, much delayed. On a deeper level you welcome it and that’s exactly what the harpy guards.
“It’s easy to dismiss her as rage or fear. You can conquer both, yet you can’t suppress the harpy. The harpy is love.”
I paused the recording.
Love? The screeching enraged creature with black wings was love?
“I told you,” Alessandro said softly. “You are still you.”
I restarted the video.
“The harpy will protect those she loves at all costs,” Linus said. “She isn’t particularly efficient about it. She isn’t complicated. She is an elemental force that screams and destroys her enemy’s soul. Her victims still have an intact brain, but the complex tangle of thoughts and emotions that makes them who they are is destroyed. It is the permanent obliteration of the ego. If they can neither think nor feel, they can no longer hurt you.”
That’s what I’d suspected. By the time Michael’s darkness had devoured Gunderson, he was already dead.
“Historically sirens attempted to find a balance between the two aspects, a middle ground between protecting others and allowing themselves a little selfishness in love. The ideal wing color was grey that lightened or darkened depending on which power was used. You have done the opposite. Your aspects are abnormally well developed. It makes you the most powerful siren on record, but it’s a double-edged sword. You denied yourself for a long time, and the harpy is fueled by the fierce, unstoppable love for those you hold dear. To protect them, she will burn through all your magic, beyond the acceptable threshold, and then she’ll cannibalize your mind so she can keep screaming. If that happens, you will die. We both know who the harpy’s favorite is.”
I knew.
Linus drew his hand over his face as if trying to wipe away some terrible worry. His eyes were haunted. “I don’t know when or why you’re watching this. I hope I’ve succeeded in neutralizing Arkan, but most likely I haven’t because I would’ve destroyed this recording and we would be having this conversation in person. Catalina, it’s essential that you don’t allow the harpy to kill you. Even if he does what we all fear, you must survive. The future of your family depends on it.”
Linus slumped in the chair.
“I am a terrible father, but I loved my son. It is my greatest regret that I never knew him. I love you and your sisters and your cousins. The five of you are precious to me. You are the heirs to everything I own and to my legacy. You must live, Catalina. That is my last request to you.”
The video stopped.
Alessandro sat up, pushed the laptop closed, and looked at me.
“Am I the harpy’s favorite?”
“Yes.”
“What is he talking about? What will I do that makes all of you afraid?”
The fear inside me uncurled and raked me with its sharp claws.
Alessandro dipped his head to catch my gaze. “Catalina?”
I faced him. “You aren’t rational when it comes to Arkan.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’ve been trying to kill him for so long. You’re obsessed. You will clash, soon. If you realize that the only way to kill him is to sacrifice yourself, you will do it. It terrifies me. My grandfather knows that I will do anything to keep you alive. I love you so much, Alessandro. He’s worried that if I know you’re about to die, the harpy will take over and burn through my magic and my consciousness to try to save you.”
There. It was all out in the open.
He reached for me. His arms closed around my shoulders, and he pulled me to him as if I weighed nothing.
“I love you more than I hate him,” he told me. “Killing him and losing you would leave me with nothing. If it was a choice between your life and his, I would let him go.”
“That’s not . . .”
“And if it was a choice between killing him or staying alive with you, I would stay alive. I give you my word I won’t throw my life away for this revenge.”
He hugged me tighter.
“If you want me to promise you that I won’t try to fight him, I can’t do that. I want to kill him. I want to see the life go out of his eyes, and I want him to know it was me who took it. But it will not be a suicide mission. I want to live well and be very happy, Catalina.”
“Promise me.”
“Te lo giuro.”
I swear. He was saying all the right things, but I was still scared.
We sat for a while, him holding me. His scent was all around me, comforting and tempting.
“I should’ve told you about Christina,” he said.
“When did it start?”
“Two months ago. My grandfather called me and told me it was time to put away childish things and come home. I would be forgiven. It was all very grandiose. He had arranged another marriage.”
“What did you say?”
He sighed. “I was preoccupied at the time, so I told him exactly what I thought about it. He took offense and told me I had a responsibility to the family, I didn’t like his tone, so I asked him if he thought about prostituting himself. I suggested that he should consider a discount since the merchandise was rather worn and in poor condition.”
“Cathartic, but unwise.” Alessandro was calculating in his responses, except with me and my family. His grandfather must’ve really gotten under his skin.
“Unfortunately, I knew he would take it out on my mother, and he did. That’s when the phone calls started. I know that my mother is making them under duress. She’s being supervised. First, she speaks in Italian. My mother always spoke English to us. Second, she sounds like she is reading a script. Usually, when parents tell you what a terrible son you are, they put more emotion into it.”
“I’m sorry.” I stroked his cheek.
He shook his head. “I know it’s not her speaking. It doesn’t hurt. Well, not that much. The point is, I should’ve told you. I apologize.”
“Apology accepted. I wasn’t trying to intrude.”
He gathered me to him and squeezed. My back was pressed against his chest, his arms were around me. There was no place I would rather be than here, wrapped in him.
“I know,” he murmured. “I was trying to protect what we have. Since it was coming from my side of the family, I wanted to take care of it. Your plate is already full. I didn’t want to dump a slimy toad into it.”
“Toads are not slimy. Their skin is dry. Frogs look slimy because of the secretions on their skin but they are not slimy to the touch . . . You really should tell me to shut up once in a while. Like right now.”
“Shut up,” he said gently, grinned, and kissed my hair.
He had taken care of most of his family’s debt. About seventeen million dollars was still outstanding. A huge sum, but a fraction of what was once owed. He had tried to buy that debt using a loan Connor offered him. The creditor refused to sell. We had to settle for knowing that his mother and two sisters were taken care of. Alessandro sent them money every month on top of the nest egg he’d already built for them.
I shifted in his hold slightly. He leaned forward and kissed the bend of my neck. Mmmm . . .
“I’d like to meet the harpy,” he said.
“You’ve already met her.”
“But that was in the pool, in a public place.” His lips traced a hot line along my skin. “I’d like to meet her here, in our bed.”
“Why?”
“I need to know how much she loves me.” He nipped my neck lightly.
A shiver dashed from the base of my neck all the way to my toes. Mine. Mine, mine, mine . . .
His arms were around me, carved muscle hard under the golden skin.
“You said I was her favorite.” His voice was an open invitation. It caressed, it enticed, and I had no defenses against it.
“Yes.”
I felt her rising in me, demanding, violent, and completely obsessed. He was the glowing core of her world. My world. She and I were one being and there was no holding myself back.
I pushed away from him and turned so I could see him. His face was uncompromising, his eyes hungry. I would’ve drowned the whole world just to have him look at me like that.
“Show me,” he said.
“This is a terrible idea,” I whispered.
He leaned closer, his face an inch away. “I want it. All of it. Everything.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I do. That’s why I am asking for it.”
I smelled the light scent of citrus and sandalwood on his skin. He was so close. I knew every line of his face. His molten eyes, his harsh cheekbones, his strong nose, his sensual mouth, his chiseled jaw, and yet I stared as if we had just met, stunned and longing. Wanting something, needing something I couldn’t explain. It was more than lust, more than sex, and it ate at me as if a gaping hole had opened in my psyche, and only he could make me whole.
My mind was full of dark feathers. They fluttered in my soul.
He leaned forward, close enough to touch. The space between us was so small, his voice was a breath on my lips. “Love me, my beautiful harpy.”
I launched myself at him. He wasn’t expecting it and I knocked him off the bed. Somehow, he sprung to his feet on the floor, taking me with him. My nails dug into the skin on his back, like talons. I locked my legs around him and kissed him, insatiable, furious that someone had hurt him and nearly insane with love and lust. I drank him in, swearing to love him forever, him and only him. He kissed me back, taking over, and thrust his tongue into my mouth, turning my assault into a pledge. It wasn’t a kiss, it was an oath. And then I bit his lip and tasted blood to seal it.
There were brakes screeching in my brain, logic and reason, warning that I was teetering on the edge of a cliff. I shoved them aside, took a running start, and jumped, falling into the bottomless chasm. My black wings snapped open, their tips glowing with red, and I soared.
Alessandro stared at me for a shocked moment. I cupped his face between my hands and kissed him again. My wings beat around us. If they’d had substance, I would have pulled him off his feet into the air.
His hand gripped my butt, his fingers scalding hot on my skin. He grabbed my panties and tore them off. I spun off him onto the bed. He barely had a chance to pull his pants off, and then I pulled him down, onto his back, and perched on top of him. His shaft was rock-hard under me. I yanked my shirt off.
He reached for me. I pinned his arms down and thrust myself against him. He slid inside me in a shocking burst of pleasure. It reverberated through me and erupted into a shout. The sound that left my lips was half song, half wretched cry, and the magic it summoned spun around us, conjuring distant echoes of salt spray and rough rock. He was the sailor I had stolen from the world and no force on Earth could compel me to give him back.
I leaned back and rode him, faster and faster, my black wings spread above us. His hands caressed my breasts and gripped my hips, pulling me harder onto him with every thrust. His magic whipped around us, a convulsing serpent of orange sparks. He arched his hips, matching my rhythm, his stomach flat and hard, the muscles on his chest tight with tension. There was so much power in him, in that strong body, in his eyes, in his magic. And in this moment, it was all mine.
Tension built in me, a storm on the verge of breaking. I wanted more, I wanted it harder. It whipped me into a frenzied rush.
He growled, his voice raw with need.
The storm inside my body shattered into ecstasy. Its waves crashed into me, so potent they almost pulled me under. I leaned forward and gripped his shoulders. His eyes were open, and I stared into them, mesmerized. He was so beautiful, and he was locked on me.
I would never let anyone hurt him again.
We hurtled into our own private typhoon. There was nothing hesitant or tender about it. It was a mad hymn, a violent coupling, and every moment of it would be seared into me forever.
Another orgasm gripped me, reverberating through me in an intoxicating rush. I arched my back, melting into it. My wings snapped wide as if catching a storm gust, and I sang out, a long wordless note that was less sound and more magic.
He strained beneath me, his body hard as a rock, his hands grasping me, and came. I licked the blood off my lips, feeling him shudder once under me, and collapsed next to him, spent.
Chapter 15
I brushed my teeth and spat into the sink. It was morning. I had expected an attack in the middle of the night, but it never came. I got a blissful eight hours of sleep and now I was starving.
He should’ve attacked us. Why hadn’t he?
“This is screwed up,” I told Alessandro as we both pulled on clothes in the closet.
“What is?”
“I’m stressed out because he didn’t try to kill us last night.”
“He’ll come at us in the next twenty-four hours,” Alessandro said. “And he’ll throw everything he has into it.”
Keeping track of who Arkan had left was making my head hurt.
Our phones rang simultaneously. Argh. I stumbled back into the bathroom, grabbed my cell off the sink, and answered it, putting it on speaker. “Yes?”
“Christina Almeida is here,” Patricia reported.
“Perfect. Just what we need.”
“She’s waiting for you. Leon is with her.”
“You let her into the Compound? Why?”
“Because she brought a hostage,” Patricia said.
“Who?” he asked.
“Countess Sagredo.”
Cou—who?
“Where?” Alessandro squeezed through his teeth.
“I put them on the patio by the main house,” Patricia said. “Mrs. Baylor has a clear shot of Christina’s head, in case any issues arise. Please hurry.”
Countess Sagredo sat on a stone bench under a Mexican plum tree, an untouched glass of iced tea in front of her on a little table. This patio was the place we held family gatherings when the weather was good, and the heat was down. It was a beautiful, comfortable space, and Alessandro’s mother sat as if the floor was lava, and her bench would sink into it at any moment. Two men flanked her. Both had the look of seasoned veterans, the kind who do bad things with professional efficiency and are not squeamish about it.
Christina stood to the left of the countess and her honor guard. She was glaring at Leon who sat on the stone bench at the other end of the patio entrance, his eyes closed, his face turned to catch the morning sun.
The countess saw me. Her face paled. From the background checks, I knew she was taller than me, but she seemed smaller, thinner, and she wore her fragility like a cloak, as if afraid she would take up too much space. She was beautiful, but her face was pale, her makeup failing to add any color or life to her features. Her dark hair, likely dyed because it showed no traces of grey, framed her face in a kind of loose updo that made her seem slightly frazzled. Her expression only reinforced that feeling of being out of place. She looked like a woman who wasn’t sure exactly where she was or why she was there.
