Guardian's Redemption Read online

  Hell, they had enough on their plate without Lexa, another enemy, gone missing. Trying to find ‘Sin Garu and finally destroy him before his evil army killed any more of Tanselm’s people was priority number one. Until the next overking was chosen, protecting the affai of the Royal Four ran a close second. But since each of his nephews had finally come into his own power, the responsibility to protect their brides fell on them.

  Arim glanced around him again, still wondering how two of the four affai had come from such a mundane world, yet still possessed the wherewithal to conjure and control their husbands’ elemental magic—the heart of the Storm Lords’ power. The large percentage of the population on this plane didn’t even believe in magic, let alone possess the capacity to manipulate it.

  Jonas’ deep chuckle broke his train of thought, and Arim watched as the Djinn seduced a phone number out of an attractive brunette before she walked away, winking over her shoulder.

  “Lexa has a tendency to breeze through Sophie’s anytime she’s in town.” Jonas pointed to a nearby upscale lingerie shop. “Why don’t I check it out?”

  Disgusted with the whole mess, Arim snapped back, “Yes, why don’t you?”

  Unperturbed, Jonas strolled into the store, frilly clothing and eager young women swallowing him from sight.

  Arim breathed deeply and counted to ten, resisting the urge to turn the Djinn to stone. While the thought held appeal, Arim grudgingly conceded he needed Jonas, and as much as the thought disgruntled him, he at times liked the sarcastic bastard. Besides, Jonas and Lexa had developed an odd friendship that would definitely aid in Lexa’s recapture. Anger settled over him, and Arim uncomfortably shrugged it away.

  It wasn’t that Lexa and Jonas’ friendship bothered the hell out of him. No, Arim wasn’t jealous, or so he kept telling himself. Any feelings he’d once had for Lexa had died centuries ago when he’d caught her literally red-handed, her palms covered in the blood of her foster family.

  But recently, he’d begun to re-evaluate the past, wondering whether his memories of that heinous event were indeed correct. When he was younger, Lexa had been his whole life. His love, his future, his best friend. The hurt he’d suffered at her hands had nearly crushed him, and taught him a valuable lesson.

  He shook his head at his naiveté. Did he really think she’d changed after three hundred years of bringing chaos and death? Darkness into a world needing Light? Two years ago she’d literally kicked his ass. A few months ago when ‘Sin Garu had wounded her during a rare joint battle, Arim had gone soft in the head. Taking care of the petite Dark Lord while she’d recovered from one of ‘Sin Garu’s more brutal attacks, like a fool, he’d begun to think she might be different. Unconscious, vulnerable, and so achingly beautiful, she’d fooled him into thinking she might not be the treacherous Dark Lord he’d assumed her to be.

  And then she’d disappeared right in front of him. The slippery little witch.

  No. He simply felt a responsibility for the damned woman. Though they’d had their battles throughout the years, she’d never before put her life at risk to save his. And from her brother—‘Sin Garu, he quickly amended. She’d never referred to ‘Sin Garu as a blood relative, and he found he could respect that much of her wishes. A blight upon creation, ‘Sin Garu and his sorcery tainted everything he touched, his magic both draining and malevolent. For all her faults, at least Lexa had severed her ties with a Dark sorcerer out of his mind with bloodlust.

  A commotion drew Arim’s attention. Several women waved as Jonas left the lingerie store, his easy stride aggravating Arim anew. Jonas reached him with a loud sigh and ran his hands through his hair, seemingly more from frustration than vanity.

  “She was here a few months ago. But since time passes much more quickly in this plane, the timeframe fits. Weeks missing in Tanselm, months spent in Philadelphia. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before she shows up again. If not in the mall, then around her old stomping grounds.”

  “And you know this how?”

  Jonas shot Arim a look he couldn’t decipher. “You know, Arim, to you Lexa is a Dark Lord. To me, she’s my Dark Mistress, a woman worthy of respect, affection, and a healthy dose of fear. Hell, I’m Djinn. I’m not stupid. She can kill with the touch of her hand, so I like to keep on her good side. But apart from all that, she’s still a woman. I know what she needs.”

  Irrational rage filled him. “You do?”

  “Yeah, I do. She likes to talk, and I like to listen.” Jonas shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Here in this plane, Lexa blends in. She can be like everyone else, accepted, not like the pariah she is at home.”

  “Home, is it?”

  Jonas scowled, finally showing the same irritation Arim had been feeling all day. “She was right. You are a condescending dick.” Arim glared, and Jonas sighed. “Tanselm is now my home. Just as it’s home to dozens of other Darklings and Shadow Dwellers. Face it, Tanselm needs both Light and Dark to thrive. Much as you don’t want to admit it, you know Lexa’s right about that. Your magic felt stronger when she was there, didn’t it?”

  Damn, but it did. Not that Arim planned on giving Jonas the satisfaction of being right. Arim wasn’t necessarily prejudiced against the Dark, not anymore. But thoughts of Lexa riled him, to the extent that he started grouping targets under the flat of his irritation. Jonas didn’t help matters by beating the topic to death. Arim pinched the bridge of his nose as the Djinn continued. It was like listening to his nephew, Aerolus, all over again.

  “You like to think Tanselm belongs to the Light Bringers. To creatures of Light. But the Dark belongs in Tanselm’s fields, villages and mountains, too. If you’d listen to the land, you’d hear it.”

  “Enough. Now you sound like Aerolus, always analysing, dissecting Tanselm’s magic. In case I haven’t mentioned it before, the trait’s extremely annoying.”

  “Say what you will. We both know I’m right.” And in a lower voice, Jonas added, “As usual.”

  “I see why Cadmus volunteered your services. You’re a pain in the ass.”

  Jonas chuckled and punched Arim in the arm. “That’s just what your nephew says about you. Now why don’t we try the food court? I know Lexa likes the cinnamon bun place.”

  “We’re not here to fill your bottomless stomach.”

  “Arim, you wound me. I just thought Lexa might be feeding her sweet tooth. She loves cinnamon and chocolates and—”

  Arim shoved him out the way of attack with one hand while throwing up a shield of Light with the other. People screamed and ducked for cover as a half dozen wraiths, members of ‘Sin Garu’s hated Netharat, suddenly swarmed above them, appearing out of nowhere.

  This shouldn’t be happening. Not here. Arim called on Tanselm’s magic within him, immediately decimating two nearby wraiths by turning them to stone, then crushing them with his will into ash. The other four shrieked, their howls like the scratchy echoes of a newborn’s cry. Covered in rags, their bodies seemingly frail—nearly insubstantial shades of skeletal mass and thin, ropy sinew—the creatures fed on fear, and on the living tissue of those they defeated.

  Their heads were lumpy, their skin a sickly yellow covered in large blue and black bruises. They had high-set pointed ears, large, white eyes and gaping mouths filled with rows of black, blade-sharp teeth. With no nose to speak of, they were unable to smell the constant stench of death they emitted wherever they went.

  One wraith grabbed a small child, gnashing its teeth in hunger, and Jonas quickly reached out with a band of Dark magic and yanked the boy from its taloned grasp. When the wraith would have attacked him, Arim shot a bolt of pure Light into its face, killing it instantly.

  Jonas dragged another two wraiths from the air, stopping them from hurting cowering xiantopes, and slammed one of the creatures through the floor, leaving only its head above ground, its body meshed with the steel girders, cement and supports holding up the second level of the mall. He turned the boy’s face to his chest protectively
and lashed another beam of Dark at the wraith, effectively decapitating it.

  Arim took care of the remaining two Netharat and teleported what was left of all their remains into the between, knowing that the scavengers which passed through the voids would clear the mess in no time.

  “Oh, thank God.” A frantic woman with tears in her eyes rushed to Jonas. Yanking her son into her arms, she hugged him tight. “What was that? What did you do? How did—”

  Aware this was definitely going to be a problem, Arim muttered a spell under his breath and wiped the recent memories of everyone in the immediate vicinity save for Jonas. Then he sent an electrical surge through the security cameras, affecting the same loss. The woman blinked up at Jonas and walked away with her equally confused son. Around them, foot traffic continued as usual, with no one the wiser of what had happened.

  “Hell. That was less than pleasant.” Jonas looked annoyed, but before he could say anything more, Arim latched onto his arm and sent them through the between towards Tanselm. That the Netharat had managed to break the covenant protecting the mundane worlds from open, magical intrusion meant something had seriously gone wrong. A powerful law had been broken. Which laid other worlds at risk.

  By the Dark’s own hell. What else might they now expect? And how close was ‘Sin Garu to mounting yet another invasion into Tanselm? For weeks they’d experienced only minor skirmishes, nothing like the Dark Lord’s previous massive assaults. It seemed Arim would not be venturing after Lexa just yet.

  He ignored his instant resistance against leaving Jonas’ ‘Dark Mistress’ free. Lexa was his… To question and defend against, he quickly remedied. Best to remember that and behave as befitting the powerful sorcerer Tanselm needs right now.

  Arim’s sexy Dark Lord would have to wait until he’d informed the Storm Lords and his sister about this latest development. His nephews needed to be appraised and Tanselm’s allies warned before they suffered similar attacks. Lexa would keep, Arim promised himself, ignoring the irrational worry for her that constantly chafed. She and I have unresolved business between us, and neither Light nor Dark will stop our coming confrontation.

  Arim and Jonas arrived in the hallway outside the Tetrarch’s current meeting. One way or the other, Lexa will answer to me.

  * * * *

  Lexa sighed with relief once Arim and Jonas disappeared from sight. Peeking out from one of the dressing rooms in Sophie’s, she’d witnessed the entire scene as if watching a movie. The infamous Arim Valens, Guardian of Storm and Killer of Shadow, had annihilated the small contingent of wraiths no doubt searching for her. Apparently, ‘Sin Garu had yet to forgive her for nearly killing him, just another in her litany of crimes against the hated blooddrinker. And she’d been so close to ending their tie, so near to forging a new life for herself…

  Hell. Why bother with regrets and what could have been? If that’s the case, I should be pining after that hard-headed Light Bringer sorcerer. She snorted and closed the curtain of the dressing room, staring at the silken bra and panty sets she planned on buying. More expensive than a cinnamon bun, they were, however, much easier on her figure…unless she fixed her troubling waistline using magic, which lately, presented a real problem.

  Lexa dressed again and checked herself out in the mirror. Short of stature. Long black hair. Ice blue eyes. A petite if too-curvy body. A blessedly enthralling package that normally glowed with power. Not so any more. Typically disguised in this realm as a tall, attractive young xiatope, since the demon attack, Lexa had been unable to hold the transformation for long periods of time and now looked like her true self. A dangerous position to be in when the forces of Light and Dark were after her.

  She felt a disturbance in the air moments before strong arms encircled her waist. Gathering her faltering energy, Lexa prepared to visit death upon the fool bold enough to attack her flesh to flesh, no matter the cost to her health.

  “You know, Lexa, that you can’t hide forever.”

  Instantly relieved to hear Sava’s voice, she relaxed in his embrace, amused despite the precariousness of her position. “You can’t be in here, you idiot. This is a woman’s dressing room.”

  Turning when he stepped back and bumped into the wall, Lexa grinned at one of the few people she’d ever called a friend. Lord Sava, king of the Aellei—a more mischievous and troublesome race than her own—stood with a pinch of annoyance on his striking face. He wore his long, white-blond hair shoulder length now. His sensual face was smooth and pale. A Shadow Dweller, Sava aligned closer to the Dark than the Light, but even so, he was more welcomed in Tanselm by the Light Bringers than Lexa would ever be. His niece, Alandra, had married one of the Royal Four, Aerolus, the Wind Mage. And that pair had magic brewing between them like it was going out of style. Tanselm cooed like a giddy new mother whenever Aerolus and Alandra drew spells together, baiting Lexa with images of a future that could never be.

  “I can go wherever I want, my dear.” Sava jerked the curtain to the dressing room wide and prodded Lexa to leave, grabbing her lingerie as he walked out with her. He touched her shoulder and she felt a surge of power run through her.

  “What did you just do?”

  “A little something to help, that’s all.”

  As she passed by a mirrored column, she stared wide-eyed at the stranger looking back at her.

  “Not bad.” She fingered her now short cap of red hair framing a heart-shaped face, from which moss green eyes stared. “You could have made me taller though.” And taken a little off my hips. Damn those sweet rolls.

  His grin turned seductive. “Then you would have needed a different set of silk.” He eyed her underwear sets with a connoisseur’s appraisal. “And though I wouldn’t mind watching you try them on, we’re a bit pressed for time.”

  “Lech.”

  “Witch.”

  She sighed and rang up her bill at the counter. “Arim’s not going to be happy about your involvement in this.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not too pleased with the way either of you have conducted yourselves over the years. I’ve decided to finally put my foot down.”

  Once the clerk handed them her bag, Sava grabbed Lexa by the elbow and dragged her out the door as she stared at him in disbelief.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. How is my relationship with Arim your problem?”

  “Since my niece, whom you know I just dote on, married one of Arim’s nephews, and since many of my people moved with her into Tanselm, I find it my business to keep abreast of things. Not that I haven’t before now, but I feel justified in fixing some problems that Alandra finds…disturbing.”

  Lexa vowed to have a talk with the sly little princess about overstepping her bounds. “Oh?”

  Sava grinned, and two women walked into each other, busy staring at him. Not that Lexa could blame them. Had she not been immune to his charm, she might have done the same. Even for an Aellei, a race of inhumanly beautiful people, Sava stood out. His skin fairly shone. His dark brown eyes twinkled with both humour and carnal promise, and his full lips were rosy with seduction. That was to say nothing of the perfection of his form, masculinity at its rock hard finest. Lexa couldn’t help being impressed but refused to give in to the vanity reflected by his knowing grin.

  “Your tone has just the right amount of frost in it. No matter what ‘Sin Garu and those demons did to you, you’re still a prickly little thing.” His tone grew husky and he chucked her chin. “I like that. The reports I’ve been getting from the Storm Lords aren’t good, Lexa.”

  She wished she didn’t care so much about Sava’s opinion. A Dark Lord cared about no one and nothing but him or herself. Hadn’t she learned the hard way what love and affection could do? Visions of her dead foster family swam in her mind’s eye, and she hastily countered the pathetic welling of grief with angry remembrances of Arim and his damned Light Bringer sorcery.

  “So what?”

  “So what?” Sava’s smile faded and he drew her into a narrow hallway le
ading to the restrooms. “So I’m trying to be the sound one by keeping my temper, but around you and Arim, lately, it isn’t so easy.”

  In seconds, Lexa felt herself teleported into the house she used when living in Seattle. The old days, she thought with a sigh, wishing Ellie were here, and not worlds away in Tanselm, married to Cadmus. Yet one more tie Lexa and Arim shared. Her friend had married one of Arim’s identical nephews—the one that most resembled Arim in temperament.

  Sava tugged back his power, restoring Lexa to her petite, blue-eyed form. He tossed her onto her couch before setting her bag on the coffee table. “Now I want the truth. What the hell happened to you? The last I heard, you and Arim had put away your hostility long enough to conspire to kill ‘Sin Garu. You two had some foolish, no doubt hastily thought out plan, to defeat the most powerful Dark Lord in existence. Next thing I know, my people in Tanselm are battling the Netharat and you’re near death.

  “From what Alandra told me, the others involved in the battle suffered minor harm. But you were unconscious for nearly three months.” Sava’s white-blond brows drew close. “Even for a Dark Lord, that’s not a normal sleep. You should have healed much faster than that.” His gaze was critical. “There’s something more that’s wrong with you. Your aura is much Darker than it should be. Than you ever were.”