A Kiss of Flame (Shadows Eternal #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

L evian felt a familiar tingle in her fingers. It skittered up her arm, over her shoulder, and cascaded down her spine. “Hells,” she grumbled.

She’d sensed the moment she grazed her fingers over the small Elder Fae rune carved into the rotting floor; she’d done something very stupid. As usual, her instincts were impeccable. The moment the word slipped from her lips, the symbol began to darken. It was an odd rune, not one she’d recognized—which is why she’d carelessly bent over and brushed her fingers over it.

“Good or bad?” Carvatticus asked cautiously as he leaned over her shoulder. The symbol pulsed, sending a wave of energy through the barely standing tower in which they stood. The tower creaked and shifted, dust cascading from the rafters.

Car held his breath, both afraid to move or sneeze lest the floor beneath them give way and the tower topple over. Everything settled after a moment, and her friend let out a deep sigh. “Right—how bad, then?” he asked, peering down at the darkened symbol on the floor.

Levian stood from her crouch and gazed around the small, circular room. Carvatticus wasn’t a mage like she was. He was a daemon with his own unique magickal gifts. He couldn’t hear what she heard, couldn’t sense what she sensed, couldn’t feel what she felt. The energy that had blasted from the symbol was rippling through the entire abandoned estate, awakening some ancient spell.

Her skin prickled with magick. Hells. Levian took off toward the stairs they’d just ascended. “Very bad,” she clipped, snatching Car by the front of his jacket and pulling him with her.

The ancient estate was barely standing. Much of it had long been consumed by the forest that surrounded it. Levian assumed the tower only stood as well as it did because of old spells of fortification that were slowly fading away.

“If you’re running, ViVi, it must be,” Car teased, following close behind her, seemingly not rattled at all.

Levian flew down the stairs, cursing herself. She knew better than to touch the rune. It had been careless.

The whole house shuddered, forcing them both to brace against the walls to keep from falling down the stairs. The ancient plaster cracked dramatically next to her hand as the tower began to give out. Levian felt a hum of magick pulse through her before the hands she had pressed against the walls started to sink into the cracking plaster like it had turned to quicksand. She gasped and yanked her hands back. Car wasn’t so quick. The daemon cursed behind her as his whole hand was sucked into the wall. Levian spun around and grabbed his wrist. She conjured a spell of release, but it did nothing. The wall pulled Carvatticus deeper, and a loud noise echoed from somewhere distant.

“Any time now,” Car hissed, his calm demeanor replaced with alarm as his arm sank to the elbow.

Levian stretched her hands toward the ancient wall, feeling the dense energy hum beneath her skin. She whispered in the Elder speech, the ancient language used by mages to better weave their magick, trying to draw out the roots of the ancient spell she’d triggered. “Vitha? il'mál?, ormin daia en'siltha,” she muttered. Her body vibrated with energy as she tugged at the threads of magick, trying to unweave the core that held the spell together, but it was like trying to undo a lock with a thousand pins. The spell was annoyingly complex and cleverly bound.

The vibrating ceased as she gave up and pressed her blue sweater past her elbows. Unless she wanted Car’s pretty little daemon ass to be devoured by a wall, breaking the spell the pieces was her only choice. Levian inhaled deeply, the scent of the forest, musty stones, and old magic filling her lungs. Her heart thrummed, her skin sizzled, and all grew quiet as she summoned the magick around her.

As a mage, Levian could not merely craft magick from natural elements like witches or other Folk—She was a conduit. Capable of pulling magick from within and around her to weave something wholly new. Her ears crackled as the magick pulled into her, a rush of heat and pressure expanding through her veins. It was like pulling the energy from a storm to hold lightning, bright and volatile. The Elder words tumbled from her lips—“Vornath tal'kír, ormin weian draen.”—binding her spell tighter, layer upon layer, like a smith forging a great weapon.

Carvatticus grunted as he fought to pull himself out to no avail. “I rather like this arm,” he growled at her impatiently. “And I’d like to keep it.”

Levian’s eyes snapped open, glowing a fierce violet, the color bleeding into her vision. Sweat dripped down her temple as she touched two fingers crackling with violet magick to the enchanted wall. Like a blade plunged into a heart, she sliced the ancient spell with precision. A shockwave boomed through the house as the enchantment splintered apart.

Her head and body ached from exertion, but she had little time to recover as the tower began to rock. In the distance, parts of the house were loudly collapsing. Car utilized his daemon strength and yanked his arm free from the solid wall with a grunt. They flew down the stairs as the tower began to cave in above them.

Car cursed, lifting his hand over his head to block bits of debris falling over them. For once, Levian was thankful she had traded her usual flowing silken dresses and robes for dark slacks and a simple sweater. Her instincts had proven spot on again.

There was a loud crash above them as they hit the bottom of the stairs. Car grabbed Levian and launched them both out of the way as the tower began to come down. Already exhausted, the mage barely managed to throw up a magick shield as everything crumbled. Large stones and bits of debris ricocheted off her invisible barrier inches from their faces until all was still, and nothing but a cloud of dust filled the air.

The barrier fell, and for a moment, Levian and Car lay in a pile on the ground, coughing and panting. “It’s never a dull moment with you, Vi Vi,” Car teased with a groan, rolling away onto his back.

“I could say the same of you,” she clipped between coughs. They often fed into each other’s more compulsive sides. It had been that way since they were teenagers. “Though I didn’t force you to come,” she reminded him as she sat up with a grunt. Levian’s body ached, and her head throbbed under the exertion of using so much magick in such a short span. She wasn’t sure her barrier would have held if the tower had collapsed on top of them.

“You never do,” he replied, taking her hand and brushing a lazy kiss over her knuckles before plopping it down. “Yet here I am.” She rolled her eyes and gave his shoulder a playful shove.

Car came from a long line of daemon Folk, but he didn’t look quite like the typical daemon one would imagine. He was much shorter than most daemon males, shorter than Levian by an inch or two, and more slender in his build. His skin was pasty white, and his eyes a similarly dark shade of red like his curled horns, which protruded just above his ears. Car sat up next to her, ran a hand through his wavy, short, jet-black hair, and scratched at the base of one of his horns before surveying his arm. His jacket was coated in dust and old plaster, but he seemed fine. All his thick fae silver rings were intact on his fingers, which he wriggled and flexed.

“Nicely done,” he told her, nudging her side with his elbow before he stood and offered his hand to help her. “As always.”

Levian took his hand and, to her dismay, had to hold onto it for a moment to steady her shaking legs. “I nearly got us killed,” she snapped angrily.

He shrugged. “Yet we’re still alive,” he replied on the bright side with a smirk. She scowled at him as she brushed some dust from her clothes and hair.

“It’s funny how much and how little has changed,” Car mused as he reached into his jacket. “Once a youthful mage with more spunk than sense who didn’t give a shit about anyone else’s opinion. Now look at you. Chasing down a mysterious sect of thieves all on behalf of the Wizen Council of Mages .” He said the last with flourished sarcasm before plucking out a small silver flask from an inner pocket and giving it a shake.

“Don’t make me regret not letting that wall eat you alive,” she grumbled tartly.

Car smirked. “It’s simply amusing. That you’re now working with Council, and I’m now High Daemon Lord, yet here we both are, nearly getting squashed to death in the ruins of a long-dead pixie. Just like when we were kids,” he reminisced before handing her the flask, which she took.

“Not exactly,” she retorted.

He chuckled. “No, not exactly. We’re far more responsible now.”

Levian and Carvatticus had been friends since they were children. His father had been an advisor to one of the old High Daemon Lords and had hired her mother to consult with some matter of politics between the daemons and the fae. Levian and her mother had been invited to Obsidian, the capital city of daemons, as guests of Car’s family. They’d become fast friends. Levian was a halfbreed outcast with a notorious father, and Car was a daemon runt with a penchant for getting into brawls he couldn’t win. She and Carvatticus had been hellions. Levian’s mother, Trislana, was a beautiful, full-blooded dryad, but even she’d developed a few grey hairs on her head thanks to some of her daughter’s youthful antics.

To be fair to Car, being offered the appointment of the Wizen Council of Mages’s official Ambassador to the Zephyr High Court the winter before had shocked her as much as anyone. Even more shocking when she’d accepted the position.

The Wizen Council of Mages were the ruling body over all mages. There was no way to avoid them except never to use magick, which she had tried for a short while to catastrophic effects. They’d loathed Levian for what she was: a second-generation mage, a rare thing amongst their kind, and the daughter of one their most notorious fallen brothers, Merlin. She’d returned the sentiment.

Council had sent her to study at The Towers as a girl, where all young mages trained in magick. Levian had quickly determined that the Council had no genuine interest in her advancement but merely wanted to keep her in check and in line. When she’d left the Towers she’d vowed to give Council a reason to treat her with such disdain and had been a permanent thorn in their sides ever since. At least up until the day she’d decided to become an Ambassador.

Levian took a pull from the flask and immediately flew into a fit of coughs, the spirits burning her throat like she’d swallowed a mouthful of hot coals. “Hells, Car— cough —that could raise the dead.”

Car took a swig and responded to the potent drink with a sharp wince and a shudder. “It’s Vex’s own concoction,” he told her, his voice strained. “It’s disgusting but has a rather pleasant after-effect.”

The mage blinked. As soon as the fire in her throat subsided, it was followed by a soothing tingle that spread over her entire body, like laying in a warm bath full of her favorite things. And she suddenly smelled—apricots. “How strange,” she observed with intrigue. “Vex is still fiddling with potions?”

Her friend took another swig. “Amongst other things,” he replied, handing the flask back to her. “So what do your dragon and vampire think about your new position?” he posed, changing topic with familiar mischief.

She cut him a look and took another—albeit smaller— sip.

For most of her immortal adult life, she’d worked with a vampire, Sirus, and a sun dragon, Barith, taking all manner of odd contract work amongst the Folk that required their strange mixture of expertise. Rescues, spying, tracking, monster hunting, spell crafting, to name a few. It was often unsophisticated work Council loathed her for, which had made it a perfect arrangement for as long as it had lasted.

“Sirus is retired,” she told Car as she surveyed the damage around them. Birds had begun chirping again, and the dust had finally settled. “And Barith is off with his horde being mated,” she cleared her throat, playing it off as a bit of dust still caught in her lungs, and ignored the grip of emotions that filled her belly thinking about the sun dragon. “We all move on with our lives, as you said. We all grow up.”

Sirus was at Volkov, his ancestral castle tucked deep into a hidden forest, with his beloved Gwendolyn. Levian had helped him and Barith rescue Gwen from the clutches of a dark priestess just the year before, and if she hadn’t witnessed it with her own eyes, Levian would have never thought her blood-drinking friend had a heart, let alone could fall deeply in love. Yet he had. She was happy for them both. She couldn’t say quite the same for Barith.

Dusk was settling rapidly and smeared the sky with uncharacteristically vibrant colors for early winter. The chill in the air grew crisper as the sun began to vanish. If they were going to find the orb, they were starting to run out of daylight, and she’d much prefer to be focused on the task before her and not Barith.

Car slid up next to her, surveying the fallen tower himself. “We do grow up,” he agreed with an uncharacteristic heaviness. “The most exciting thing to happen to me since I’ve ascended to be ruler of Obsidian is when you stole my horns from me a few summers ago and?—”

“ Won ,” Levian corrected with offense, spinning around to face him. “I won your horns, fair and square, in that game of fae folly, and you know it.”

He rolled his eyes. “I was barely able to speak; I was so pissed,” he pointed out. “You carved them from my head after I’d passed out. Though I don’t know how. I could have sworn you were more drunk than I.”

She had been extremely drunk. Enough that Levian only foggily remembered using a rather clever bit of magick to carve his horns from his head before she’d shoved them in her enchanted bag, which hung at her side. They were still floating around inside somewhere.

“A bet is a bet,” she declared smugly. “And you know I always collect my winnings.”

He flashed a catlike grin. “Oh, that I know, ViVi.”

Levian sighed as she looked over the crumbled remains of the tower. “The orb has to be here,” she told him. “ Somewhere .”

“You’re sure?” he asked skeptically. “I still don’t see why a pixie would leave a priceless treasure behind in a rotting old house.”

“Because he died before he could retrieve it,” she explained. Or so that’s what she’d been betting on.

Levian tapped a long, painted purple nail on her lip as she considered everything she knew. She’d traced her mysterious shadowy band of thieves to Paris, where she’d suspected them of attempting to steal from a half-fae who’d boisterously claimed to own a rare and forbidden artifact known as the Heart Orb. The half-fae’s loudly self-proclaimed ‘rare collection’ had turned out to be nothing but fantasy, but her slippery thieves had given her a lead and an opportunity.

The orb was said to contain the heart of an Abyssal beast from a dark plane of existence far beyond the mortal realm. A beast that allegedly devoured not only souls but light itself. Such an object would send most Folk quivering with fear, but Levian knew better. Stories around Dokk artifacts were often over-embellished.

The Dokk were an ancient race of Shadow Fae that had been mostly wiped out after opening a portal to the Abyss in an attempt to siphon power from the dark realm. Those that had survived only did so long enough to be annihilated by the other Fae to guarantee no portal could ever be opened again. Any magickal item of Dokk origin had been forbidden to possess since The Fall, which naturally meant the Folk loved to collect them.

“You know pixies,” Levian continued. “The estate was likely stripped bare after he died, but if he’d been as clever as they say, he would have hidden it well. That rune was a strange bit of magick, and I think the spell it set off could tell we were here to find the orb and wanted to be sure we didn’t. We’re unlikely the first to trigger it.”

Her friend grunted unpleasantly and turned over a bit of rubble with his booted foot. “Or perhaps the old pixie just wanted everyone to think that,” he suggested instead.

Levian cut him a look. While in Paris, she’d run into Carvatticus, who’d also been in town on Daemon Lord business. He’d offered some contacts to help in her search, which had led her to a rather old shop in Montmartre owned by a pixie, who’d then pointed her toward this old estate in the rural German countryside. The pixies ran the black market of rare and forbidden items of magick. The specific long-dead pixie in whose home they stood happened to be a rather infamous broker in all manner of dark and forbidden magickal items back in his time. He’d been dead for centuries, but according to the other pixie in Montmartre, he’d been the last known owner of the Heart Orb, and it hadn’t been traded on the black market since, meaning there was still a chance it was hidden in his old estate.

“No one crafts that elaborate or expensive of an enchantment as a decoy,” she told him flatly. Carvatticus had invited himself on her hunt after Paris, and Levian had been happy for the company, knowing he’d have to return to Obsidian any day. Still, she was growing frustrated with his cavalier attitude when her determination to root out these thieves was anything but.

“Pixies have been known to do far stranger things to safeguard their valuables,” he replied, picking a bit of debris from his hair. “It could be buried a hundred miles from here, or hidden in a sea cave, or locked in a secret trove no one could ever possibly find.”

Instead of barbing back, she stumbled to the top of the pile of stone and debris that once was the tower. “It has to be here,” she declared. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach.

Car crossed his arms over his chest and cocked a brow. “You don’t think there’s any chance the thieves beat you to it?”

Levian shook her head. “No.” It was hard to explain in words, but she could feel something . Now that the protection enchantment she’d set off was broken, she could sense something with a tilted energy. Levian was uniquely sensitive to such things, likely because she was not only a mage but half-dryad, and the wood fae were always more aware of the energies and essences of everything around them. “It’s here ,” she made clear.

Car replied with a resigned heavy sigh before he glanced down at the rubble pile over which she stood. “I suppose you mean beneath your feet?”

She tapped her nail on her lip once more and peered around her. Levian had been unsure about the clues that had led them to this remote and dilapidated estate on the edge of a German town long forgotten. It did seem unlikely that the orb would still be here after all this time and not hidden away as Car had suggested, but Levian had gotten a sense from the old pixie with the shop in Paris that there was a likely chance the orb had never left the estate even after the rest of it had been picked clean.

Levian unbound her mane of wild pink curls, shook out some debris, and tied them up in a fresh ponytail to get the few dislodged strands out of her sweaty face. Then she closed her eyes, took in a deep, steadying breath, and concentrated. The strange energy was faint but present. She pushed through the throbbing in her temple and the deep ache in her bones and focused on the faint hum like she was hunting a buzzing fly. She opened her eyes and pointed a few yards to her right. “There—I think.” It’s where the vibration felt most concentrated.

Car stumbled to where she’d pointed and knelt over the pile of loose stones. “The things I’ve done for you,” he grumbled sourly before picking up several and tossing them over his shoulder.

Levian smirked. “You’ve done far worse,” she teased affectionately as the High Daemon Lord knelt before her, digging for dark buried treasures.

He grunted. “Of that, I am well aware, ViVi.”

She chuckled as memories fluttered forward. One particular, of Car with not one but two black eyes, thanks to a little misunderstanding between Levian and a young daemon male who had been twice Car’s size. At one point, Barith had drunkenly accused her of holding a torch for Car, which had sent her drink flying into the dragon’s face with disgust. They did love each other, but there had never been any romantic chemistry between them.

As Car easily tossed stones and other debris over his shoulder, thanks to his enhanced daemon strength, Levian found her mind wandering in odd directions. She wondered if Car would settle down now that he was High Daemon Lord. She’d always found it amusing that neither of them seemed to be able to hold onto lovers for more than a few seasons at a time. He’d always made it clear he wasn’t interested in children or a lasting partner, and though she did not doubt the former, she did doubt his insistence on the latter. Car was clever and calculating, but beneath his catlike persona, he was extremely warm, loyal, and caring. She smirked. Carvatticus and Barith were actually quite similar, which was amusing as they’d never been particularly keen on one another.

Levian’s heart grew heavy. She missed Barith. Typically, the dragon would be the one down on his knees digging through the rubble for her. She wondered where he was and what he must be doing. Her heart gave an aching thump.

Car grunted with exertion, thankfully drawing her out of her head and her darkening mood. She really was tired if she was drifting so quickly. Levian tried to think. It could take all night to dig to the bottom of the pile, but she couldn’t summon the Heart Orb by magick even if she did have the energy to attempt it. The daemon tossed a rather large stone off to the side with a very loud curse, and the moment he did, Levian felt the energy around them shift. She looked closer at the stone. There was a very faint etching of a seal over the surface. “I think this is it,” she declared with surprise. Car left his digging, wiping his dirty hands on his jeans, and came to stand next to her. She pointed to the crest. “This is a family crest, isn’t it?”

“I think so?” he said, unsure. It was a very faint mark.

Levian wiped away the dirt and moss and reached out to touch the crest.

“Should you?” Car questioned sharply before she could. “I don’t want a pit to open beneath me and swallow me whole.”

The mage felt the sting of embarrassment anew over her carelessness earlier. She was confident it was a crest, but she felt nothing like the touch of a spell coming from the stone. “This isn’t enchanted,” she grumbled before standing. She looked over to Car. “Break it.”

He lifted his brows. “Are you sure?”

She knew the thieves were after the orb, but she wasn’t sure they’d uncovered where to find it or if they ever would. Which meant she had an advantage. If she found the orb and brokered for its sale on the black market, she was sure it would flush out her thieves.

“There’s no spell,” she assured him— again .

Car shot her a look. “That doesn’t mean whatever is in here isn’t booby-trapped,” he clipped back.

He wasn’t wrong, but she was tired, irritated, and ready to soak in a long bath. “Throw it against that wall there, and maybe it’ll bust open,” she ordered. It was crude but not the worst idea.

The daemon lifted the stone and tossed it as hard as he could against what remained of the wall at the tower’s base some yards away. A loud crack echoed through the forest as it broke through the low wall and sent everything toppling.

There was no release of gas or powder or anything else seemingly nefarious. Car looked at Levian. Levian looked at Car. “Ladies first,” he offered, motioning for her to take the lead.

She rolled her eyes and stomped toward the crumpled wall. It took only a second for her to spot the cracked stone amongst the rubble and the small wrapped object hidden in a hollow at its center. “We found it!” she chirped with excitement.

Car leaned in over her shoulder and made an uneasy sound. “You sure about this, Vi Vi? I’m no expert on Dokk lore, but isn’t it best to let some sleeping objects cursed by Shadow Fae rest as they are?”

Once more, Levian had to tamp down her irritation. Car had been trying to talk her out of this every step of the way, even if he had physically helped in every way she’d asked. She understood that he’d not been galavanting about the world for the last several centuries doing precisely this, or some variation of it as she had. “Shall I leave it here for some village child to find instead?” she retorted.

Car glared down at it, and Levian could feel his uneasiness. Before he could protest or make a fuss, she unraveled the loose scarf around her neck and used it as a barrier over her hands. She reached into the hole and plucked out the little package within. She stood and delicately unwrapped the dirty black silk until a small black orb the size of a golf ball was revealed. It was light in weight, but there was a heaviness to it that was hard to explain, like a gravity that pulled inward. Long white strands shifted within and moved across the surface.

Levian wasn’t sure she believed the orb held the actual heart of an Abyssal creature, but it clearly held power. Enough that her mage and dryad sensibilities were on edge. Her skin prickled as she tamped down her concerns, wrapped the orb tightly inside her scarf, opened her enchanted bag, and unceremoniously dropped it inside.

“Shall we be going, then?” Levian chimed, turning to leave. “You could use a bath.”

To his credit, Car didn’t give her grief over what she’d just done, even if he did disagree. “Are my horns in that bag of yours?” he asked instead as he followed behind her.

Levian smirked wickedly. “They could be.”

He chuckled as they began to weave their way out of the ruins. “Kashyn was quite furious at me for making that bet,” he admitted.

She snorted. Kashyn was Car’s right hand, and Vexar, whose vile spirits they’d been swigging, his left. His crew. Much like Levian had developed a bond with Sirus and Barith over the years of working with them, Carvatticus had built bonds with Kashyn and Vex during their work in Obsidian. “Kashyn loves you, and it was me she was mad at for taking your horns. Why do you think I went into hiding?”

“She was rather furious at both of us,” he agreed with amusement. “But I suppose I’m more used to dealing with her when she’s in a mood.”

To be fair, Kashyn hadn’t been wrong to be furious. It’d been childish and stupid for Carvatticus to bet his horns after just being crowned High Daemon Lord. It had been simply egregious for Levian to take her winnings while the drunken Daemon Lord lay unconscious in his throne room.

“Do you remember that time we broke into that Spring Fae’s cellar to steal his precious bottle of wine brewed by those nymphs in the Grey Mountains of Yuthrin.”

Levian laughed. “I’ve not thought of that in years.” She, Car, Barith, and Kashyn had broken into the old fae’s cellar after he’d boasted about the wine at a rather raucous party not long after she’d first begun working with Barith and Sirus. Even intoxicated, they’d managed through the fae’s protections, with much of her magickal help, but just when they’d been about to snatch their prize, Barith had set off a trap on accident. “I still cannot believe Barith nearly got us all drowned or that Kashyn didn’t know how to swim.”

“She does now,” Car told her with a chuckle. The pixie’s old estate was now cast in shadow, filling its corners with ominous darkness.

“It would be good to see him again,” the daemon mused. “I always thought Barith a fun sport, for a dragon. It’s funny,” he jumped over a fallen table bit of roof and landed beside her. “I always thought you two might?—”

Levian was about to cut him off, but a creaking sound beat her to the punch. Both of them went dead silent and stilled. The sound came again, but this time clearer and more like a moan. Car’s face went slack.

“A ghost?” he hissed, looking frantically around. “I hate ghosts.”

There was no otherworldly chill of a ghost Levian could sense. She shifted around the corner and peered into what remained of some large old room. The noise was coming from the wall on the other side where a great tree had taken root, as well as several large vines. Curious, she moved closer. The wall began to balloon out awkwardly. Steam rose from the surface as it splintered under the weight of the heat growing under its surface. She took several steps back. “Something’s trapped,” she declared with a gasp.

“What?” Car shouted from behind her. “Like an animal ? ”

Before she could assess much of anything, the wall burst open. Levian threw herself out of the way as burning debris and a giant flaming creature came hurtling directly at her.

She coughed at having the wind knocked out her, patting away tiny charring embers on her clothes. Levian jumped up and was met with a mound of steaming sun-kissed skin and a pair of giant gold and red-scaled wings.

Levian hauled in a breath before her face began to heat, and her eyes were blurred with sparks of violet.

“Barith?” Carvatticus questioned with amused surprise. “Is that you ?”