The Call of Corvids Page 5

  The arrogance of these dark fae was astounding. The idea of a reg, a non-Other from the Mortal Realm, infiltrating a secure compound and breaching the inner defences without magic was so inconceivable, the fae’s last line of defense for his most prized possessions focused on magical presence instead of life.

  Motion activated lights flickered on and Bear walked down the hall to another security door. His footsteps echoed in the cold empty space and a chill raced up his spine. No guards in here. The dark fae didn’t trust anyone to get this close to his vault.

  Bear needed to finish the job and get out.

  The second security door, though made by a different manufacturer, proved no more difficult for one of Mike’s breaker boxes to bypass than the first. He mouthed a silent thank you to Mike and ignored the stab of guilt.

  He stepped into the vault and sucked in a breath. There, in the center of the room, suspended above a white podium by invisible threads of magic, hung the oddest black jewel he’d laid eyes on. Instead of reflecting the light, the gem absorbed it. Yet, despite its lack-lustre sparkle, something about it called to him. His sister Raven would love it. He wouldn’t have been able to drag her from the room.

  Bear shook his head. No. He wasn’t here for pretty baubles. Taking more than the item he sought might set off unseen alarms. Greed got thieves caught. He studied the room and found the item he’d been tasked to retrieve. Nestled in the corner of the room on a dusty shelf sat an intricate wooden box about the size of a softball with runes etched into each side like a die.

  Bear strode over to the object and dug out his lodestone from the inside pocket of his jacket. The magical disc would transport him to a predetermined location and had cost him a small fortune to procure from the snobby fairies. Thankfully, it was reusable and well worth the cost. The dark fae lord had been very clear about what to do once he touched the Claíomh Solais. First, he needed to get out of the room as fast as possible as contact most likely would trip another alarm. Second, he needed to draw the runes the dark fae provided to prevent anyone from following him. And third, above all else, he wasn’t to open the box.

  With the exception of its pretty decorations, the box looked mundane, boring even, giving off no magical signature or anything special to indicate the hefty reward he’d receive for retrieving it. For all Bear knew, it could be a random hunk of wood two fae lords decided to steal back and forth to bide the time and ease their boredom. He doubted that. The gleam in the lord’s eyes had been too fevered for this to be some twisted game of tag.

  Bear took a deep breath and keyed the lodestone. A portal opened to the living room of his safe house. Now or never. He rubbed his hands together, ignored his racing heart, reached forward and gripped the decorated wooden box with both hands.

  The moment his skin made contact, magic swept the room. The lights dimmed and wind from an unknown source jostled the air. Dark, potent fae energy pulsed and shook the vault. The wind picked up, creating a vortex of shadows and dust a few feet away.

  Oh, fuck no.

  Bear wrenched the box from the shelf and stepped through the portal. Before it closed, a man stepped out of the vortex created by wind, dust and shadows. Power rolled off him in thick, menacing waves. An imposing dark fae lord wearing full court armour with a black cape swirling in the portal wind behind him. Piercing black eyes of the Underworld met Bear’s and the man’s face contorted with rage.

  Silver flashed.

  Bear froze as a dagger aimed at his heart flew through the air. He hadn’t seen the man throw it. He clutched the box to his chest and flinched.

  The portal snapped shut.

  Bear opened his eyes to find the living room of his safe house. No dagger. No blood. No dark fucking fae lord.

  That was close. Too close.

  He sank to his knees, still clutching the box and sucked in long drags of air. He couldn’t stay like this. He could panic over the close call later. His client’s warning voice nagged him. He lurched to his feet, placed the box on his coffee table, dug out a black marker from his pocket and hastily drew the runes on the wall. He had no wish to meet that Shadow Man ever again.

  With his heart still caught in his throat, he scribbled the runes over and over again from memory and practice, until his hand ached. The entire time, the box sat on the coffee table, inert and unmoving, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched.

  Chapter Eight

  “There's a little bit of magic in every box!”

  ~ Adam Rex

  Bear stared at the wooden box and contemplated his sanity. His client had warned him repeatedly not to open it, like it would release devastation and destruction into the Mortal Realm. The longer he sat in its company, though, the more he believed that was another lie. The Claíomh Solais wasn’t some Pandora’s Box. This was something his client didn’t want him to see. Why? Was he afraid Bear would take it for his own? Was it something too dangerous to release to another fae and the client worried Bear’s morals would kick in and prevent him from handing it over?

  Bear had taken his jacket off, cleaned up the cuts on his face from the ricochet and scuffles with the guards and found some ice for his hand. The rotating fan propped on the kitchen counter oscillated back and forth, bathing his back in recycled air every half a minute.

  Poor Kissa. He’d left his spare key with a neighbour to go over and feed his cat if he didn’t return in few days. He’d left Kissa yesterday afternoon and had only been gone the night, but if he didn’t make it back by the end of today, he’d find little surprises in his shoes for the next week or two.

  He loved that cat.

  The lights above flickered as someone stomped in the room above his own. His attention drew back to the box. He hadn’t told the dark fae lord when he planned to nab the Claíomh Solais, so he had a bit of time before he needed to make contact.

  Time for what? He finished the job. Now it was time to collect the final payment. If that’s what the client intended to give him. The more he sat and stared at the box, the more he suspected the client never intended to pay him. If he couldn’t afford to let Bear glimpse what was inside the box, could he afford to let Bear live with the knowledge of who’d hired him to steal it?

  Fuck. He’d really done it this time. He thought he’d found a way to dig himself out of the criminal element, to turn to more legal avenues of generating income, and instead, he’d signed his death warrant.

  He did have a contingency plan. Death instead of payment was always a possibility with the clientele he served. He reached into his pocket and ran his thumb along the cold surface of the lodestone. Would his flight or fight response be enough this time?

  And how would he leave this apartment and the safety it provided by the runes with the Claíomh Solais without getting attacked by that other fae lord? If he met the client here, he’d have nowhere to run.

  The fridge’s annoying whirr faded as the runes on the strange wooden box drew him in again. The prickling sensation of being watched hadn’t gone away, but the scary Shadow Man from the vault hadn’t appeared to smite him, so the protective blocking runes must be working.

  Claíomh Solais.

  The White Glaive of Light.

  He never would’ve picked this out of the room if his client hadn’t provided a picture.

  Don’t open it, the dark fae lord had warned. It will be your death.

  This entire time Bear assumed what was inside the box would kill him, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized it was his client who would kill him if he looked inside. And the client would also probably kill him for handing over the box unopened like a good little boy.

  The knot in Bear’s stomach told him what his brain still tried to catch up with—no matter what path he chose, death would greet him at the end.

  Well, now. Wasn’t that the truth for everything in life? He’d had a good run. Sort of. His shoulders slumped. No. There was so much more he wanted to do. So much more he wanted to be. He wished he’d b
een a better son and brother. He wished he’d gone back to the family.

  He wasn’t a complete failure. There were a few things to be proud of. He’d scrambled and found a way to make it on his own. He got the job done and paid his bills. He would’ve helped pay his sister’s loans, too, if that stubborn mule would let him.

  His gaze drifted back to the box again.

  The Claíomh Solais.

  He ran his finger along the engraved surface of the box again. He didn’t get zapped. He had no premonitions or pain on contact. It was inert wood. He’d been sitting in his apartment for hours, alone, stroking wood.

  His siblings would have a field day with that.

  Ah, fuck it. If he was going to die no matter what, he wanted to know what was in the box. Sure, curiosity killed the cat, but at least the pussy got some answers.

  Bear snatched the cube from the table and lifted it to his face to examine the runes closer. No seam for a lid. No keyhole. No spell to recite. He already knew rubbing it like a lamp didn’t produce a genie.

  The Claíomh Solais couldn’t be opened by physical means. That left the other kind. Bear groaned. Why did it have to be magic? He set the box down again and reached inside himself. He probably didn’t have enough magic to open it. Pulling his corvid essence out, he wound his power around the cube.

  The wooden box with the intricate engravings began to hum.

  Bear pulled more magic and wrapped it in another layer. He’d never done anything like this before. Since he couldn’t use his powers to shift into an animal, he assumed all he could do with this stuff was call birds to him. Of course, he’d tried all sorts of things when he was younger, but he gave up after nothing found success. This, though. Something about this curious little wooden box with the engravings...Something called to him like he called to his birds.

  The box hummed louder, a delicate, bell-like sound tinkled from inside.

  He pulled more power, more power than he’d ever pulled before, more power than he thought he had and swathed the Claíomh Solais in his magic. The box burst open. Magic rushed out and flung Bear back in his seat. Pure light streamed out. Bear shielded his eyes from the intense glow and ducked down as the blinding light chased away all the shadows in his small apartment. Heat pressed against his skin and his heart beat furiously.

  Something thumped on the floor and tumbled along the carpet to rest on his foot. He looked down to find the box laying benign and empty on the carpet.

  The lighting in the room dimmed and the room cooled down. Bear lowered his arm. In front of him, in a glow of dazzling light, like a phoenix rising from its ashes, a woman dressed in ordinary jeans and a tank top stood with her hands on her hips and her feet shoulder width apart. The light highlighted her high cheekbones, smooth dark skin and shining platinum hair. Black eyes of the Underworld, eyes like his, studied him and her full red lips curled up with amusement. She was by far the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  His twin sister, Raven, had once told him his exterior was far prettier than who he was inside. She didn’t normally talk to him like that, but she’d been especially pissed off at him for something. He couldn’t remember what he’d done that particular time, but he deserved it. He always did. And despite her words being spoken in anger, she wasn’t wrong.

  Bear never lacked female attention. Women enjoyed his company and he enjoyed theirs. He put minimal, if any, effort into seducing a woman. He didn’t need to. That wasn’t arrogance, but experience. He never had to work for anything. He certainly didn’t have to beg.

  One mere second in this woman’s company, and he wanted to crawl on the floor and grovel before her.

  And that was all kinds of wrong.

  Bjorn motherfucking Crawford did not beg.

  “Who...who the fuck are you?” He pointed at her. “And get off my coffee table.”

  The woman laughed, a tinkling bell-like sound that made him think of fairies and pixie dust and fields full of flowers. She smelled like a bouquet of wild roses.

  “My name is Chloe.” Her melodious voice lilted with an Underworld accent and sent a jolt straight to his dick.

  Nope. Not happening.

  She stepped from the coffee table and set her unflinching gaze on him once again. “But the more interesting question is who are you?”

  “It doesn’t matter who I am.” And it really didn’t. He needed to know what she did with the Claíomh Solais. He couldn’t exactly shove her back in the box and hand her over. Even if he knew how, the dark fae lord would definitely hunt him down and kill him for the deception. He glanced at the container and picked it up. “What did you do with it?”

  “With what?”

  “The Claíomh Solais.”

  Her full lips split into a wide grin revealing teeth as white as her hair. “Do you not know?”

  He balled his hands into fists. “No.”

  “I am the Claíomh Solais.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Surprise is key in all art.”

  ~ Oscar Niemeyer

  Bear stared at the striking woman in front of him and the same thought repeated over and over in his head: What. The. Fuck?

  He’d wonder why the dark fae lord left out this one crucial detail, but he already knew the answer. He wasn’t supposed to open the box. The client never intended for him to find out he’d stolen an actual person.

  What the fuck?

  Again and again, the thought repeated as anger rose from within and heated his blood. Bear had stooped to some pretty low lows—breaking laws where necessary, cracking some skulls, lying, stealing—but never this low. There were some lines he refused to cross.

  Chloe studied the room, focusing on his hastily drawn runes along the walls. She dropped her head back and laughed—a raucous roar of bells. She clutched her stomach and laughed some more.

  He folded his arms in front of his chest and waited. Her Underworld power continued to flow from her skin, beckoning him to come closer and play in the waves. From the second she burst from the box, he’d had to lock his knees to physically prevent himself from being drawn in by her power.

  She flung out an arm and pointed at the nearest rune. “Do you know what these are?”

  He shifted his weight on his feet, not sure if he’d need to subdue her, fight her or run. “They trap the essence of the Claíomh Solais and prevent anyone from forming a portal to the ‘object.’”

  She laughed some more and shook her head. Her platinum hair brushed against her face as her shoulders shook. “Oh, you’re not wrong about that. But whomever gave these to you to use didn’t tell you how they worked, did they?” She glanced around the sparse apartment and then at him, her gaze appraising while still managing to dance with amusement. “You’re a thief. You weren’t meant to open the box with the runes drawn.”

  This was apparently hilarious to Chloe and set her off on another fit of laughter. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me.” She wiped a tear from her eye.

  “What kind of monster locks a person in a box?” Bear asked. The memory of the Shadow Man emerging from darkness with rage contorting his face into a death mask surged up. He’d moved so fast, Bear hadn’t seen the dagger before the weapon flew through the air perfectly aimed at his heart. Bear’s death had awaited him in that vault. And it still waited for him. Returning the box wasn’t an option.

  Bear shivered. The Shadow Man locked this woman in a box. Why? Dark fae were deceptive and rarely what they seemed. Was the Shadow Man as vicious and as lethal as he looked, or was Chloe not as sweet as she appeared?

  Bear leaned closer as if to examine her. “Or are you some monster that needs to be caged?”

  Chloe cocked her head. “Dark fae live a long time. I grew weary and wanted to disconnect from the politics and squabbling for a few years. You and your alluring magic woke me up.”

  Bear straightened without even meaning to. She found him alluring?

  Gah! No, Bear. No. Do not fall for the fae. Do not be fooled by her considerable
charms.

  Odin-loving dark fae and their seductive ways. He wouldn’t fall for this nonsense. Bear snarled. “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Trying to seduce me with your magic.” He waved a hand in the air as if to clear a thick cloud of perfume.

  “Oh, that’s not me.”

  Cryptic, too. Seductive and cryptic.

  “What are you going to do?” She changed the subject and batted her long lashes at him. “Are you going to give this defenceless woman to your master?”

  “Client.”

  She smirked.

  “And no. I draw the line at human trafficking.”

  “Oooo.” She straightened. “A thief with morals. How very Robin Hood.” Her gaze sparkled. She mocked him. Minx.

  “I’ll give him the box.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  “Why not? We’ll close it up and hand it over.” He’d still have to run for his life, but he didn’t see any other option. Maybe he could make a deal with the other dark fae—the one who tried to kill him. Sure. Sounded like a great plan.

  She shook her head, her white hair whispering against her shoulders. “He’ll kill you on the spot. You won’t have time to run. He’ll know the moment he sees the box that I’m no longer inside. It would be better to run now.”

  “You almost sound worried for me.”

  “I’m growing strangely attached to you, Pretty Boy. It would be a shame to waste that face.”

  He scowled and she responded by laughing like a fucking fairy.

  Chapter Ten

  “Don’t worry, it only seems kinky the first time.”

  ~ Unknown

  Bear nursed his beer and glared at his new guest from across the small dining table. She perched on a matching chair acting as if she wasn’t sending off some serious dark fae sex vibes.