Untethered, page 10
The mayor’s obsession with immortality, or as near as one could get, seemed to have begun long ago. Fifty years old, and reaching an age when one realizes life does, in fact, come to an end, his research dug into the unnatural.
Lifeblood, in particular.
Not much was known about it then, perhaps only slightly less than what was known currently, but that didn’t stop the man from hauling in every physician, psychic and healer that could potentially offer him answers. None impressed him, according to the journal’s notations. None, save for a young girl. A girl with a strong brilliance.
Sixty years old now and gravely ill, the girl brought him back from the brink. And from that night forward, she never left the mansion. Remaining at his side, he consulted her on all matters. Matters that a young girl couldn’t possibly understand.
His family grew jealous. His wife attempted to have her killed. The wife died instead.
And the mayor appeared to stop aging. One by one, his family did as well. His favorite cousin, a niece, an uncle. But as for the young girl, she grew. Into a woman, bound and talented, with churning shadows in her eyes.
Shaw’s great-great-grandfather dated his entries until his death, which ended in speculation rather than significant findings. Lux had glanced over them briefly, mind sifting through the information she’d learned. He had been eighty-six years old. The mayor should have been an ancient man—one hundred and one. He was not.
Lux didn’t understand it. Didn’t understand how the oldest of Ghadra were not concerned that their mayor looked as fresh as he ever did while they all aged and died. She’d become adept at listening in to conversation not meant for her ears, and still, she’d not heard a whisper.
Looking up to Riselda now, her aunt smiled, patting a masked cheek. “I’m sure you’ll think of something worth his time.”
“You’re not coming then?” Lux surveyed Riselda’s plain dress, dirt at its hem. She hadn’t dressed in much more for several days now.
Riselda followed her gaze, a serene smile lighting her mouth as she studied her soiled skirt. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
Her aunt was a puzzle Lux couldn’t solve, growing more difficult with each passing day. So she gave up trying and attempted to appreciate having someone who cared for her well-being at her side instead. Lux forced a smile.
A carriage rumbled along the cobblestones, slowing to a stop. “That will be my ride.”
“Have fun, Lucena. Don’t drink too much wine.” Riselda patted her hand. “You do look beautiful. Very much like your mother.”
Lux’s eyes blinked much too frequent behind her mask. “Thank you, Riselda.”
She climbed the steps and opened the door, Riselda’s sing-song voice trailing after her, “Secrets, my dear. He adores secrets.”
Lux adjusted the black silk of her gown again. It was long and flowing, tight through the plunging neckline and across the waist. It had been her mother’s dress, and with a bit of tweaking, it fit every inch of her. She would have purchased more appropriate shoes, but sneaking about a den of predators required comfortable, trustworthy footwear.
Lux tucked her sturdy boots beneath her dress with a swish of dark skirts.
Her wings were delicate things, black feathers draped artfully down her back rather than spread wide. Shaw could sit beside her if he chose. Not that he would. No, never.
The carriage slowed. She adjusted her mask.
The door swung open with a click. At first, she could see nothing in the waning light as cool mist rolled through the opening, swirling about her knees. But as it settled, Lux caught a glimpse of black boots, a black coat, and a skeletal mask that caused her to bite back a scream as she pressed herself further against the seat.
Shaw’s laugh filled the carriage with a warmth that sent the mist skittering away, returning to the night air. “Did I frighten you?” He swung in with ease, settling across from her.
Lux couldn’t stop staring at the white mask, edged in silver, appearing so real it may as well have been made of— “Is that bone?”
Her hand quickly dropped to her lap at the smirk of his lips beneath it. “Too morbid?” He studied her then, their bodies jostling as the carriage ambled forward once more. In the dimness of the small space between them, his eyes appeared black as midnight. “You have feathers on your mask.”
“And on my wings.” At his continued scrutiny, she added, “A crow.”
His head tilted, his lips unmoving, until at last, “I like it.” She laughed, and it coaxed a ghost of a smile to his mouth. “What?”
“It nearly sounded genuine is all. What are you? The dead?”
His grin turned wicked. “Death, itself. I feel the mayor needs a reminder he cannot cheat the beast forever.”
She scoffed. “Probably not the best choice for stealth and secrecy, however.”
“You underestimate me, love.”
Lux rolled her eyes, parting the curtains to stare out into the deepening shadows. Several heartbeats of silence passed, marred only by the crunch of carriage wheels.
“How did you find the journal?”
Her gaze swung back to his dark one. “Terrifying. I read it through. It certainly sounds as though he discovered how to harvest lifeblood. And offered it up to his family. Though I wonder how he’s gotten away with it. Even more I wonder how he’s gone about choosing his victims over the years.”
“Well, if I were him, I would choose people I wished to be rid of. People unable to fight back. I’m sure there are many in the Dark that fit the description, and it isn’t as if the Shield mind doing the work.”
“I’m not sure those of the Light are much safer any longer.” At his questioning stare, she recounted her encounter with the old shopkeeper. “They mentioned the prison, though I’ve not a clue where that might be.”
Lux couldn’t see much at all within the darkening space any longer, save for a glimmer of stark white now and then as the carriage ambled over loose stone, rocking their bodies. She shivered.
“I’m surprised you could have slept at all in that house. What with their screams.”
“What are you talking about?” Spiders, real or imagined, skittered up her arms.
The skeletal mask shone, sudden and clear in the moonlight, and Lux nearly believed Death did hover beneath, watchful and biding. “Under our illustrious mayor’s home lies the most uninhabitable prison you could imagine. A sentence to it may not need be for life, but it will claim it regardless. This is where the mayor harvests his precious lifeblood. I’m sure of it.”
Lux allowed the horror to cascade over her. “How do you know this?”
“My father. Resisting the Shield has only one consequence, and when I failed to save him from that cell, when I discovered his death not many days ago, something in me broke.” Lux twitched away the outlandish urge to reach for him. “There are so many innocents buried within those walls, begging for light, for life—for death. I killed an abuser that night. On his way to the tavern after beating his wife to unconsciousness, I stabbed him in the back and slit his throat. It was easy. Too easy. The dagger passed through like melted butter.” She scrunched her eyes closed, but the images rose vivid anyway. “If the Shield won’t defend Ghadra’s people, if the mayor only selfishly seeks that which will make him immortal, who am I to do nothing?” The carriage slowed, and streetlamps peered through the curtains. Lux gazed at Shaw, forearms resting on his thighs, head hung low. “It should have been me in there, you know.”
Pebbles crunched as the wheels stopped. “Why?”
His lips parted as the carriage door swung outward, bathing them in soft light. He smiled, straightening. It was an expression brimming with retribution.
“Never mind. Let’s not keep the mayor waiting.”
Chapter fifteen
The mansion before them glowed like a beacon, every cross-barred window illuminated from within. Lux gazed up the expansive stone stairs, wide and gleaming from ornate lampposts, flanked by the Shield on either side. She worried her lip.
“Nervous?”
She felt Shaw’s quiet question warm the frigid air between them, heard the carriage continuing on, another taking its place. She released her lip. “I’m not sure what I am.” She studied the towering wooden doors flung wide, guests milling inside and around the pale stonework. “I don’t have fond memories of this place.”
She turned then, taking in Shaw’s appearance in the light. Dark, mysterious—dangerous. She shook her head. Certainly no ideal disguise for remaining inconspicuous.
He studied her just as closely. Though what conclusion he came to, she would never know. He held out a black-clad arm.
Lux stared at it with all the confusion of an impossible puzzle.
“Ahem.” He grabbed her hand, linking her arm with his. “Have you never been escorted anywhere before?”
The warmth of his touch crawled up her fingers, spreading outward and through her. She stepped forward, pulling him after. “No. It would only slow me down.”
To make her point, she hurried up the stairs, forcing him to match her pace. He scoffed, his long strides meeting hers, then exceeding. “It can be nice to move slow sometimes.”
The suggestive flicker of humor in his eyes caused Lux to curl her lip. “Don’t be crude.”
He only shook his head, a breath of laughter leaving his lips as he glanced over the Shield in their passing. “Spineless bastards.”
“Did you know they carry sleeping potions? Potent ones, too. I tested it out on one of them the other day. He dropped like a sack of flour.” Lux smiled at the memory, and when her gaze inadvertently found Shaw’s, she was struck by his expression. What she could see of it. “What?”
They’d reached the landing and Shaw shrugged off his coat, revealing a crisp, black shirt lined with silver buttons matching that of his mask. He handed it off to a servant with an appreciative nod, causing the girl to offer up a befuddled blink in response. Appreciation was not often found here.
“Don’t allow this to go to your head, Necromancer. But I think I could like you.”
She laughed aloud, drawing several sets of eyes before stifling it. “Trust me, I never let anything get so far.”
He grinned. “Me neither.”
“I should probably tell you,” Lux muttered beneath her breath as they entered the lustrous foyer. “The mayor expects a gift.” At Shaw’s quick glance of irritation, she hurried on, “A secret, a favor. Something of that sort.”
“Of course, you only tell me this now.” The arm beneath hers tightened.
“I forgot.” She lifted her eyebrows at a puffed peacock of a woman.
So much color, so many sparkling jewels. The crowded room of Ghadra’s elite preening one another was enough to make her head spin and her stomach knot. Lux noted that Shaw drew just as many stares, though most shifted from frightened shock to intrigued admiration as he led her into the ballroom. Her gaze swept over large urns spilling roses the color of blood.
“I think we made a mistake.”
Shaw’s voice darkened. “What now?”
In her effort to choose a costume that would allow her to slip easily through shadowed corridors, and to honor one very brave sacrifice, she had foolishly forgotten one thing:
Those of the Light never wore black.
“That suit. This dress…” His eyes traveled down at her words, and her skin heated.
“This can only be my Deceiver of Death!” The mayor’s voice boomed louder than necessary, drawing the attention of those nearby. As he liked it. Lux stepped closer to Shaw—and turned.
Clad in a shocking pink waistcoat with a matching mask tilted up at the corners, his gaze swept over her. “I shouldn’t have expected anything other than black, of course.” He sighed dramatically, bringing a few feigned chuckles along with him. “But I must say it suits you. A raven?” He reached forward, gripping her hands before she could dodge.
“A crow.”
He quirked his lips. “We will say raven.” He forced her into a spin before his eyes. “Much more beautiful than a crow.”
Lux stopped with a swish of fabric, tugging her hands from his icy grip. “And what of your costume, if I might ask?”
The mayor adjusted his mask with a grin before snatching a proffered goblet of wine. “A flamingo! Rare bird. I’m sure you’ve never heard of it. Few know of such things.” Lux had indeed heard of it. She refrained from rolling her eyes upward. The mayor drew closer, the stink of too much wine coating the air between them. “Did you happen to bring me a present?”
His hand reached out to finger a feather at her back.
“Yes. A secret.” She leaned in further. There were certainly many secrets she could have divulged to the mayor, but there was only one that wanted for revealing tonight. “There’s a phantom in the forest.”
Strange, she thought, how the words come easily now.
His eyes gave away nothing. “A phantom? You’ve entered the wood?”
“Once.”
“How very brave.” He studied her. “Or very foolish. You never were the best at following tradition, and now I’m sure you’ve disturbed a grumbling ghost.” He winked. “Intriguing all the same. Where is your aunt?”
“We came separate.” At Lux’s statement, the mayor finally took notice of Shaw at her back. He squinted up. “What’s this? A corpse?” His abrupt guffaws sent wine sloshing from its crystal dwelling onto the patterned tiles.
Shaw’s voice cut through, scraping. “Something like that.”
The mayor sobered. “What’s your name?”
“Shaw.”
“Have I met you before?”
“One other. Perhaps you don’t remember.” His eyes blazed and Lux contemplated stomping on his foot.
“Of course I remember. I’ve the best memory.” The mayor finished off the last of the wine before staring forlornly at the puddle on the floor. “If only all could have as great a mind as mine…”
Lux coughed against the derisive laugh bubbling from her lips. “We have been monopolizing you, Mayor. We should allow you to greet the remainder of your guests.”
“Yes, yes.” The look he directed at her turned leering. “Save me a dance.”
Lux considered knocking the goblet from the mayor’s grip until she felt the reassuring pressure of Shaw’s hand against her back. “Of course.”
She stepped away, more than ready for something to coat her suddenly parched throat.
“Wait. Doesn’t Shaw have a gift for me, as well?” The mayor eyed her escort with renewed interest, and the taller man stepped forward, his hand never leaving her.
“Death is like the mist that coats this town every twilight. Hungry and inevitable.”
If the mayor weren’t so happily intoxicated, Lux was sure Shaw would have been thrown into the mysterious prison for such a statement. Instead, the mayor fixed his well-honed grin upon his wide lips.
“Some would say.”
Reaching around to her lower back, Lux dug nails into Shaw’s hand, gripping it within her own. Dragging him from the mayor’s presence, they approached a covered table laden with goblets of wines and mugs of cider.
“What were you thinking?” she whispered heatedly, pushing a glass of wine into his hand. “Water?”
At the servant’s shake of his head, she frowned. Cider it would have to be. She picked up the nearest cup, sniffing its contents. A tentative sip later, the pleasant taste of orange swept over her tongue.
Shaw eyed his gloves with interest. “That buffoon’s so drunk he won’t even remember what I said by hour’s end.”
“We can hope.” She steered them toward the nearest sculpted column, their backs to the wide windows and faces to the sparkling sea. She eyed the decorated balustrade above them, thick ribbons tumbling from its height. “Where is your murder weapon, Prowler? Please tell me you’ve left it at home.”
“Who needs mine when you’ve brought yours.” The pull of his glove revealed scarlet marks on his skin. “Fiend.”
She choked on a second swallow. “I saved you from yourself! You should hope it will scar and forever remind you that not all your thoughts need voicing.”
His narrowed gaze lifted to find hers. He raised his hand and instinct told her to retreat. Instead, her back met the cool column, pinning her in place. Clad in achingly soft leather, his thumb drew along her mouth, coming away wet. All the while, a roguish glint lit his eyes.
Lux tossed her head to the side. “What was that for?”
His lips met the edge of the bone mask. “Not all my thoughts require voicing, I’m told. Relax, Necromancer. You look poised to attack someone.”
“Perhaps I am. Leave me be.”
“Suit yourself. Though your body must ache every night, being kept so rigid.”
“Please, don’t overtax yourself with thoughts on my body.” Glowering, she slid around his side. “I’m starved. We can discuss what to do from here afterward. If you’ll excuse me.” She didn’t bother inviting him along.
Most gave her a wide berth as she wove toward the tables tumbling with food. Those that didn’t, she needed only to bare her teeth to send them stumbling. Lux smiled. She wasn’t here to make friends. Not with these people. Not with anyone.
She surveyed the rising confections, stacked on crystal and arranged in towers of delectable scents. She selected a meat-filled pastry and wondered how she should go about scrubbing the feel of Shaw’s thumb on her mouth from her mind.
“No napkin? How barbaric.”
Lux froze at the dripping voice, her chest stinging.
Morana, the mayor’s daughter, and the source of nearly all the invisible wounds Lux had received while trapped within her domain. She apparently took after her mother in all ways but one: of a height like her father, she and Lux were nose-to-nose now.
Lux took in the elaborate leather costume before her, ample curves on near-full display.
“Outlandish choice, that.” Morana gestured to Lux’s gown. “It’s just as well, for color always did give your skin a jaundiced look.” The mayor’s daughter smoothed back a loose tendril of golden hair, blue eyes made brilliant beneath the row of garish chandeliers.
