Dark star, p.23
Dark Star, page 23
part #3 of White Haven Hunters Series
And with that, she was lost. He grabbed her hand, pulling her to the stairs and up to his room.
Ash watched Barak’s motionless body, and squeezed his eyes shut. For now, they had done as much as they could do. He debated appealing to their fathers for help, and then swiftly rejected it.
“I’ll watch him,” Estelle said, her clipped voice firm and decisive.
Ash’s eyes flew open. “You’ve done enough. You used a lot of magic. You probably need to sleep.”
She regarded him coolly, arrogantly even. “I’m strong enough to sustain my magic.”
“It wasn’t an insult, Estelle. I’m trying to be considerate.” He wanted to throw something at her, but instead clenched his fists. “And he’s my brother.”
“And he’s my friend!” Her eyes were burning now, fierce with intent.
Ash noticed she wasn’t touching Barak at all, but she was sitting close, her hand resting on the blanket they had thrown over him to keep him warm. They were still in the dining room, but Barak was now on a bed they had made on the floor, his head resting on a pillow, his wings still beneath him. Despite the summer night, they had the fire burning low, too. Estelle had thrown on a bundle of herbs, and their fresh healing smells alleviated the heavy atmosphere in the room.
They were also alone. Nahum and the others had headed to bed, or to the shower, in Nahum’s case—he was covered in blood—and Ash had no idea where Shadow or Gabe were.
Estelle was still glaring at him, and he needed to back off. Something was going on with these two, more than he realised. “Okay. As long as you’re sure.”
Her shoulders dropped as she took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “I’m sure. You should sleep, too. You’ve been busy all day.”
Ash’s mind was whirling with his earlier discussions, and now the worry about Barak. He wasn’t sure he could sleep. Or if he even wanted to. “Why don’t I make us some tea? Or something stronger?”
“Tea would be good, thank you.”
He nodded and walked to the kitchen, the silence of the house falling around him. With only a low light on, he boiled the kettle and made a pot of tea, placing a mug, milk, and sugar on a tray. But he did not want tea. He needed something stronger. Something to take the edge off the evening. He took the tray to Estelle, saying, “I’m on the terrace if you need me.”
He retraced his steps, picked up a bottle of local red wine and a couple of glasses, and took them out to the terrace where he sat at the long table looking out into the night.
It wasn’t long before Nahum joined him, dressed in more casual clothes. “Good thinking,” he said, helping himself to a glass. “Estelle told me you were here.”
“I’m too wound up to sleep.”
“Me too, but Aubrey and Caldwell have gone to bed. And,” Nahum gave him a wry smile, “so have Gabe and Shadow.”
Ash nodded, absently. “Good.” And then he realised what Nahum meant and his eyes widened. “Hold on! Do you mean together?”
Nahum laughed. “Yep. That’s the only thing that’s made me smile all night. They don’t know I saw them, though. I happened to follow them up the stairs, but frankly, they were oblivious.” He took a sip of wine. “About time, too.”
“The risk of imminent death always heightens one’s emotions.” Ash sipped too, appreciating the rich, full flavours. “Who won the bet?”
Nahum grinned. “Niel keeps tally. We’ll ask him when he gets here. He should be on his way. Let’s hope nothing happens to him,” he added.
“He’ll be fine. And so will Barak.”
“Is that just wishful thinking?” All humour had left Nahum’s face.
“Partly. But Barak is strong—and stubborn, just like his fallen father.” Barak’s father had been one of the strongest of the fallen angels, and fiercely loyal to Lucifer Morningstar who had triggered the fall. Conviction had burned in his eyes, along with a fervent loathing of the old God.
“Stubbornness is nothing though if the poison is too strong.” Nahum shifted in his seat, alert with curiosity. “What did you find out from Aubrey and Caldwell?”
Ash grunted with frustration. “Alchemy has to be one of the weirdest, most complicated esoteric fields of study I’ve ever come across. They speak in our language, but it is almost incomprehensible!” He was frustrated just thinking about his discussion. “I’ve read books on it and had long conversation with two experts—two Adepts—but I am baffled. No wonder it takes years to be conversant with its laws and correspondences.”
Nahum looked puzzled. “But I thought you were familiar with it from our old days, before the flood.”
“The Emerald Tablet of Hermes Trismegistus triggered all of it, but I took little notice then. We had other things to occupy us.”
“But the super-humans, what’s with that?”
“Essentially, it’s as Aubrey said earlier. Harnessing the power of planets, using their alignment in the sky and other astronomical correspondences and their associations with metals. Long experiments, with essences and applications.”
“And they must have utilised those things to make weapons, too,” Nahum said. He shook his head. “These people and their weapons make me feel old-fashioned.”
Ash smiled. “There’s something to be said for age and experience, though, brother.”
“JD would understand it, surely,” Nahum said, topping up his drink. “He’s an expert.”
“Perhaps that’s why he wants the astrolabe. After all, he cracked immortality.” Tiredness started to creep up on Ash, the quiet conversation and fine wine working its magic, but he filled up his glass again, enjoying talking to Nahum without anyone to disturb them. “Do you think we should leave a watch?”
“I’ll ask Estelle,” Nahum said. “But if she’s still confident in her magic, perhaps we should all sleep tonight. I doubt we will get much rest tomorrow. But in the meantime,” he said, smiling mischievously, “tell me what you think of Barak and Estelle.”
Gabe woke up feeling the kind of languorous pleasure he hadn’t experienced in years. Pale dawn light was filtering in through the partly open curtains, illuminating Shadow’s alabaster skin, and Gabe couldn’t stop looking at her. She was covered in nothing but a sheet, and it folded around her curves like a glove. Her right leg and arm were uncovered as she sprawled on her side, and her hair tumbled across her face. He reached for her, and then paused.
Barak.
He must have survived the night, or they would have been woken. The house was quiet, at peace. A good sign. And Barak was strong. Soon Gabe would have to get up and face the day, make decisions, but now was for pleasure. He rolled over, snaking his arm around Shadow’s waist, and pulled her into him, curling around her protectively.
Last night had been more than he could have dreamed—and he’d dreamed of it plenty. Shadow complimented him in every way, and she was as fiery as he had expected. They ignited passion in each other. She stirred, and he pulled her closer, his cheek resting against her hair and then his lips nuzzled her neck. His desire was already stirring.
She wriggled in his arms, and turned to face him, her violet eyes luminous in this light, her fey otherness breathtaking. She blinked and her eyes widened, and Gabe knew she was flooded with memories of their night. For a horrible moment he thought she would pull away, her defences up, but then she smiled, pulling him closer, and her eyes said everything. She threaded her hands through his hair, lifted her leg over his hip, and kissed him, and he could think of nothing but her.
Nahum eased the door of the dining room open with his elbow, juggling two coffees, and saw Estelle stir in the half-light, her long dark hair loose as she sat upright. She had lain next to Barak all night.
“How is he?” Nahum asked softly, handing her a drink.
“Better. His breathing is easier, and his colour is good.”
“Good.” Nahum sat on a chair, sipping his drink and enjoying the rush of caffeine. “Did you sleep?”
“A little. I kept the fire going and repeated a few spells, and I dozed in between.” She paused to sip her coffee, and stared at Nahum with a puzzled expression on her face. “Something odd happened in the night.”
Nahum’s thoughts immediately flew to an intruder. “Did you hear something?”
“No. With Barak. I felt him getting hot, and thought at first we were too close to the fire, but something seemed to ignite beneath his skin—like flames! He glowed. It started in his chest and then radiated out to his limbs, even through his feathers.”
She pushed back her hair, and Nahum thought how much better she looked without that permanent tight-lipped frown of disapproval she always wore—her resting bitch face. He subdued a smirk, focussing instead on what she’d seen.
“It wasn’t something you’d done?”
“No! I’ll admit I was terrified. I thought it was a new level of the poison working. I nearly raised the whole house! But then,” she looked at Barak again, confused, “I felt this ease come over him. It was like he’d burned away the poison somehow.”
A sudden memory returned to Nahum, and he slumped back in his chair with surprise. “Ah. His father did that. I saw him do it once to a man injured in battle. I remember it because it was such a generous, unexpected gesture from one of the fallen. He laid his hands on him, and it was like a fire raged beneath his skin, healing every single cut.” Nahum laughed with delight. “It must be inherited. He healed himself!”
“It certainly took him a while!” Estelle protested. “The poison must have overwhelmed his system really quickly.” She smiled. “Our actions bought him time.”
Nahum looked at his brother with new appreciation. “Maybe this event has unlocked a healing skill. These correspondences apparently link with angels. I remember JD saying so. I wonder if the poison responded to something that has to do with his angel father?”
“That’s a very interesting idea, Nahum.”
They were silent for a moment, considering what that meant, when Barak stirred and groaned, his eyes fluttering open. He lifted his head, trying to focus. “Where the hell am I?”
“Welcome back, brother. You certainly know how to give us all a fright.”
He sat up, dwarfing Estelle next to him. “Welcome back from what?”
“Poison,” Estelle explained. “Courtesy of Black Cronos, remember?”
Barak looked at her, his bed, the fire, and finally, his wings. “What in Herne’s horns happened last night?”
Nahum smiled and rose to his feet, his heart light. “I’ll let Estelle explain, and get started on breakfast. I’m hoping Niel is here somewhere, asleep.”
“Oh, yes he is!” Estelle announced, looking apologetic. “He arrived just before dawn and found himself a room.”
“Good,” Nahum said, sighing with relief. He was glad to know Niel was safe, and that they now had weapons. “I was a bit worried, if I’m honest.”
“He made good time—said the weather was calm and clear.”
“Good, I’ll leave him to sleep.”
Barak had been listening, and he still looked confused. “Is Gabe okay? My memories aren’t all there yet.”
“Don’t you worry about Gabe. He’s just fine!” Nahum said enigmatically, and left them to catch up.
“So,” Barak said, stretching his arms out and wincing as he felt the pull in his shoulder, “it seems you need to fill the gaps in my failing memory.”
Estelle had edged away from him to give him room, but not too far, and she sipped her coffee, watching him over the rim. “You really can’t remember?”
“No. I mean, I remember we went to look for JD’s place, but after that…”
“You had a fight with some Black Cronos members and got shot with poisoned arrows. Does that jog your memory?”
His head felt woolly and confused as he struggled to remember the events, and then it struck him. The woman with the bow and her impressive accuracy. “Yes. I was hit while I was flying. Nahum spotted them lurking around the place JD should have been.”
“It was a trap, and you ploughed right into it.”
He rolled his eyes. “You are always so combative! Of course it was a trap, we knew that, but also saw it as a chance to take a few of them out. And we certainly did,” he said smugly.
“So nice to know I spent my whole night looking after you, and you don’t seem to care that you nearly died.”
“I do care! I didn’t want to die! I didn’t want to be injured, either. Hold on,” he said, as her words filtered through his foggy brain. He took in her lack of makeup, t-shirt and yoga pants, and her mass of tumbling hair that he wanted to run his hands through. “Are you saying you slept with me?” He patted the blanket next to him, still feeling its warmth. “Right here.”
“Guilty,” she teased, batting her eyelashes. “Does that make you feel a little vulnerable? I promise I did not take advantage of you.”
Her eyes swept across his bare chest and down his body, and he realised he’d been cut out of his jeans, and that all he was wearing were his boxer shorts under the blanket. “I would be more than happy for you to take advantage of me, but I must insist I be awake to fully appreciate it. Deal?”
He couldn’t contain his grin as she stared him right in the eye and said, “If you have to play by the rules, then I suppose so.”
“Oh, Estelle,” he said as a rush of early morning desire told him everything seemed to be working properly, and also made him grateful for the blanket. “You are a very naughty girl.”
“Naughty woman, actually. Now, if you can possibly get your mind out of the gutter,” she said, sipping her coffee demurely, “do you think you can explain why you seemed to internally combust last night?”
He did not appreciate the change in subject. “I did what?”
“You seemed to have this rush of fire just under your skin, about two to three hours ago. It started in your chest and spread everywhere. Nahum said your father did similar things. Has that happened before?”
“I don’t think so!” He placed his hand on his chest as if he would feel different. “Where, here?”
“Yep. It sort of blossomed outwards.” She explained their thoughts on the poison and alchemy.
All sorts of memories flooded back to Barak. His father was huge, a giant amongst the angels, and a fierce warrior. He didn’t show compassion often, but Nahum was right, every now and again he healed using his hands, a flash of fire that flared from his fingers. “I’ve never knowingly used it, but maybe it’s been latent in me all along.” He stared at his hands, willing them to produce fire, but nothing happened. “I can’t do it now.”
Estelle studied him, puzzled. “Maybe it only happens when your body is in stress, or perhaps you just need to practice. But I’m a fire witch, so maybe I can help you.”
“Well, that sounds like fun.”
“Oh, does it?” she laughed, rising to her feet. “I’m a hard task master.”
“I’m fine with that. Where are you going?” he protested, enjoying their quiet intimacy.
“I need a shower, and so do you.”
“Is that an invite?”
“You’re incorrigible,” she said as she walked to the door. “No. But I’ll see you later, over breakfast.”
She smiled as she left him, and Barak realised he felt better than he had in years. He was pretty sure it was Estelle’s doing too, rather than his father’s power. It was certainly time for a shower…a cold one.
Twenty-Three
Niel had only taken a cursory look around the château when he arrived. He hadn’t flown so far in a long time, and he was more tired than he expected, so for a few hours he’d slept well. Now he followed the sound of voices to the long, covered terrace at the back of the house, and discovered a few people gathered around the table. Covered dishes and jugs of coffee had been placed down the centre, and the remnants of breakfast on used plates indicated he was the last to arrive.
“This is where you all are! Morning all! Wow. What a place!” For a moment he simply took in the view of the vineyards, appreciating the warmth that promised a hot day, as the others greeted him. He sat next to Nahum and poured himself coffee, glad that it was still warm.
“I thought I’d let you sleep,” Nahum told him, “but everything should still be hot.”
“I could eat it cold, I’m so hungry,” Niel confessed, already filling his plate. He looked up at Barak, who was still not his normal self. “I’m glad to see you looking better. You were out cold when I arrived!”
Barak gave him a wry smile. “You’ve heard I had a run in with a strange poison, I take it?”
Niel nodded to Estelle, who sat next to Barak. She looked tired, but there was something different about her that Niel couldn’t place. “Estelle gave me a brief rundown.”
“Yeah, my body did an odd thing I need to think about,” he said, distractedly topping up his coffee.
“But everyone else is okay?” he said, glancing around the table.
“We’re fine,” Gabe and Shadow said together, almost too quickly.
Niel frowned, thinking they both looked furtive—flushed, even—but despite that, Gabe radiated a calm Niel hadn’t seen in months. Shadow, however, could barely meet his eyes.
Oh. He paused, his fork partway to his mouth, and then catching Shadow’s scowl, he shovelled food in quickly and turned away. Nahum and Ash were both looking at him with barely concealed smirks that told him to shut up and move on. So, it had finally happened. About time, too.
Struggling to hide his own amusement, he spoke quickly. “Great! So, what’s the plan today?”
“Harlan will be arriving in a few hours,” Nahum said. “He’s bringing Jackson, and he sounded excited.”
“Jackson?” Niel grunted. “Why him? Not that I mind, obviously.”
