The Ravenous Dark, page 4
He swallowed thickly as he opened his eyes. Shadows and darkness still lapped at his hands, but the ability to banish them came more easily now that the dark magic binding him was gone. He released a long steady breath as he pressed his will at the new power flooding his body. The shade fell away, running off his hands like water.
"Fuck."
He ducked his head as he continued to gather his bearings, concentrating on the comforting familiarity of his private study: the tranquil silver blue of the rug he knelt upon and its thick springy pile; the subtle yet familiar hum from the desk lamp he’d forgotten to turn off; the gentle, clean perfume of oakmoss and clary sage. Inch by inch, his body relaxed.
"Ronan?"
Ronan's head snapped up, eyes locked on the office door. It was his younger cousin, Ana. "Don't—"
Ana's eyes grew wide in alarm at his disheveled state on the ground, and swiftly stepped inside, closing the door behind her. "What happened to you? Are you bleeding?"
Ronan was two seconds from ordering her away when the pain finally registered in his nervous system. He hissed, rocking back to rest on the backs of his heels as he surveyed the damage on his body. The Veles sorcerers hadn't wasted time attacking him in his strange shadow form, nor a couple of bold shifters. He dodged most of their attacks with disturbing ease, leaving the shifters to step, unfortunately into the line of fire.
It was as if his body wasn't even there for them to strike. Those that had landed reverberated through his body like a distant echo of pain, absorbed and stored through the mysterious darkness.
Now that the darkness was gone, the pain was resurfacing. Ronan winced and cursed as he felt his abdomen. Ana's lips thinned. She locked the door and then moved decisively to the curio cabinet in the left corner of the room. The younger woman snatched from its tall body a first aid kit before settling herself in front of Ronan.
"Spill." Ana fluttered a hand in the direction of his clothes. "And take off your shirt, so I can see what I'm working with."
Ronan did as he was bid, biting back a groan as his shirt stuck to wounds. The Veles sorcerers might have been drunk, but their aptitude for subterfuge and trickery meant their arsenal of spells was diverse. And dangerous. He glanced at his side, then quickly away at the blistered sight.
"This has something to do with that wretched mirror, doesn't it?" Ana grumbled before Ronan could get a word in. "Every time you come back, you're different. Don't think I haven't noticed. That 'Otherworld' you and Jax keep going to is doing more harm than good. I don't care how much power it’s given you. Our household is strong enough, Ronan. It isn't worth it anymore, and it's very clearly attracting trouble."
"Clearly," Ronan responded dryly.
A few trusted members of his household knew of his dealings with the Mirror of Ways and the Otherworld realm beyond its surface that he explored with Jax. They went looking for power to tip the scales of the Dark Court in favor of the minor classes; the sorcerers, shifters, and demons, now dubbed the Lunar Court.
They found the power.
Jax's magical aptitude was unrivaled, and his grasp of potion and spell creation a thing of genius. They'd both grown stronger and faster, and Ronan's raven form had even quadrupled in size. The magic of the Otherworld was unlike any he'd witnessed before. Both seedy and seductive, it left a cold sweat to gather at the back of his neck just thinking about it.
The enhancement of their abilities and powers had been gradual, spread out over the years, and now Ronan had claimed another; one that dealt in shadows and darkness. His throat bobbed as he came to terms with the knowledge.
He and Jax hadn't astral projected into the Otherworld in months. So why, he thought with a frown, is this new power manifesting now?
Ronan grunted as Ana wiped antiseptic over his badly blistered side. She muttered an apology, her focus undisturbed by his discomfort. Gratitude filled him at her silent concentration. It allowed him time to recount the details he'd missed the past few weeks. The ones that should have clued him into the building manifestation of his power.
Improved vision in the dark. An uncanny sense of direction. His ability to sink into the background unobserved.
Tonight, his new power eclipsed all others, ensnaring him with little warning. One moment he was turning down Bailey—which was a subject he refused to address at the moment, along with the blasted mark on his chest—and the next hurtling himself as far away from her and the wedding reception as possible.
And then the darkness seized him. It sucked him into a plane of existence made of dusk and cold, cold shade. There was no time to gain his bearings when strands of dark magic bound themselves around him and yanked him right back to the place he'd fled.
The struggle to control his new power while fighting the dark magic was unlike anything Ronan had ever experienced. It was intense and exhausting and it worried him how tempted he was to surrender to the dark magic as it pulled him toward the possessed bride. It worried him greatly.
A hiss erupted from his mouth as Ana pressed a strip of gauze firmly to his wound and began taping it to his tender side.
"Are you going to tell me what happened, or do I need to keep guessing?" Ana's jaw clenched as she tore open a new packet of antiseptic wipes to clean the cut below the crease of his pec. "Fine. I'll guess. Can I assume whatever squabble you got into was at Laxmi and Eris's wedding?"
"Yes."
Ana perked up. "I was just about to go."
Ronan frowned, a bemused smile coming to his lips. "The reception started over three hours ago."
She shrugged as she methodically wiped away the blood coating his skin. "I was aiming for fashionably late."
Ronan took in her appearance. She wore a striking red qipao dress, and her eyes lined dramatically.
"And?" Her words were deceptively soft as she pinned him with half-hooded eyes. "Are you going to tell me what happened at the reception, or do I have to wring it out of you?" She delicately applied pressure near the cut on his chest as she spoke. Ronan growled.
"Are you a raven or a viper?" He snapped. She batted her lashes innocently.
"Start from the beginning."
"Something happened tonight," Ronan said somberly. "Dark magic was at play."
Ana's ministrations stopped. "What?"
"The bride was possessed. Black, bulging veins crawled up her arms to her face." Ronan conjured the image in his mind. A troubled frown drew down his features. "Then the black took her eyes. She killed the groom and one of her bridesmaids." He didn't mention that in the chaos of the moment, one of the Veles sorcerers had fallen to a lethal spell intended for him.
"Dear Gods," Ana exclaimed.
She fingered through the tonics and salves spread around her, selecting a bulbous green-tined bottle, and twisting off its lid. Pine and citrus tickled Ronan's nose as Ana smeared a generous helping of the pink salve on another wound on his arm.
"I can't think of anyone who would want to harm Laxmi. She was a houseless courtier without any enemies to speak of. Perhaps her demise was a means to an end? A stab at the Veles by another clan? They aren't the most popular among their kind, especially after vouching for the Gamayun clan's involvement in the Cellar incident."
"Perhaps," Ronan murmured, brow furrowed in thought as Ana finished placing bandages. "Or someone's grown tired of the cross-supernatural marriages. Maybe one of the groomsmen didn't like his friend taking a vampyré as his bride."
Ana sighed, prompting Ronan to quirk an inquisitive eyebrow. "I quite liked Laxmi," Ana confided. "She knew the best dirty jokes." Ronan snorted. "I assume you got caught up in the crosshairs? That's the only plausible reason I can come up with for you looking like this." Ana's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she gave pause. "How did you get all the way back here to your study without anyone stopping you along the way? I know for a fact a handful of ravens are lounging in the common room in the front. All of them would have rushed to assist you."
"How do you know I didn't?"
Her hawkish gaze glinted. "I walked through there, asking where you were. Someone said you were out, and another suggested you were in your study. They couldn't agree, so I came to check when I heard a noise come from this room." Her hazel eyes dragged pointedly to where he was knelt on the floor before latching back on his gray eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"
Ronan was wrong to suggest she was a viper. Ana was most definitely part bloodhound. Curbing a sigh, he trudged on. "The bride wasn't the only one possessed tonight by dark magic; I was too. However, my possession happened while I was adjusting to receiving new powers from the Otherworld."
The color dropped from Ana's face, and Ronan could feel his doing the same. Saying it out loud made his stomach clench uncomfortably as if somehow the mere act of voicing what had happened would cause it to reoccur.
"You're sure it was two separate magical events and not just the Otherworld's magic messing around with you?" she questioned.
Ronan nodded curtly. "The magic and power from the Otherworld have its own signature and is wholly different from what's practiced here. It's more elevated. Raw. It sinks into you without you even knowing."
Ana tried to smother her trepidation by cleaning up the supplies she brought out. "What's your new power then?"
"It's something to do with shadows and darkness." Ronan rose and went to the other side of the room to the bar cart. He poured himself a glass of whiskey. "I can cloak myself in it. I was even able to traverse a new plane." His brow furrowed as he sipped his drink. The tinkering of bottles falling back into place filled the short silence. "I felt in between worlds, shrouded in some strange dusk."
"Between here and the Otherworld?" Curiosity, stained Ana's voice.
"Between here and… somewhere." Ronan drank again as Ana returned to his side.
"And this Otherworld magic, you're certain it wasn't responsible for whatever possessed Laxmi?"
"Yes." Ronan's tone brokered no room for argument. Without hesitation, Ana tilted her head to the side, offering him her neck in a sign of deference. Ronan huffed and touched her wrist, bringing her hazel eyes back to his. "What troubles me is the dark magic that accosted me was drawn to whatever dark magic possessed Laxmi."
Ana said nothing as Ronan downed his drink. It had taken all of Ronan's self-restraint not to give in to the siren-like pull of the dark magic. He pondered confessing as much to Ana but thought better of it.
Ronan carried enough guilt for placing so much of the household’s responsibility and care on Ana while he was exploring the Otherworld. Responsibility that also left her facing the court’s cruelty when higher-ranked households set their sights on his for some indiscriminate slight.
He was the head of the household, not her. He should have borne the brunt of the court’s callous offenses—the beatings and harassment—not Ana.
Now that he was back for good, he would assume the responsibilities he’d been neglecting. He’d raise his house to its pinnacle… and allow Ana a chance to rest. Burdening her with the extra knowledge of the dark magic’s temptation would only worry her, and Ronan knew that a worried Ana meant a distracted Ana.
No one could afford to be distracted in the Dark Court. To let one’s guard down in such a way was like sending a personal invitation to every courtier asking to be attacked. Ronan would be damned if he allowed a single one of the ravens under his protection to be hurt by his folly.
He swallowed thickly. They were in danger enough as it was because of his new power.
"Okay then," Ana muttered carefully. "We need to find out who was behind the attack on Laxmi. You also need to explain to me why your body is covered in magical wounds and not vampyré bites from the bride." Ana folded her arms over her chest.
"The sorcerers’ thought I was responsible for the attack on the bride and a few shifters too. Considering I was suited up in my new shadow powers, I can't say I blame them."
Ana's mouth formed a little o, her eyes growing owlish. "Oh, dear. That's not good, Ronan."
"I know." Ronan poured himself another glass and then one for Ana.
"I mean, that is really not good," she insisted as if he wasn't grasping the urgency of the matter. He was. "You know news and rumors spread like wildfire here. If people find out you're the creepy specter that showed up right when the bride went crazy, you'll be blamed, and they'll kill you.
"You won't get a trial. It will be a public execution. They'll think you've dabbled in dark magic, and then they'll think our household's dabbled in dark magic," she panted.
Before her rising panic could sink any more claws into her, Ronan gently guided the hand holding her whiskey to her mouth. She took a mouthful and cringed with her entire body as she gulped it down.
"Nobody recognized me, Ana," he told her calmly.
"You're sure?"
"I'm ninety-nine percent positive. Nobody was in the hallway when I was leaving the party, and the Otherworld magic took me. And even if there had been witnesses, the hallway was poorly lit."
"What are we going to do?" Ana's voice was soft and unsure.
"We stick to your plan." Ronan tipped his chin up. "We find out who attacked Laxmi, and from there, we find out why the dark magic called to me."
Ana nodded, but her eyes remained full of worry. The very thing he didn’t want for her. Not for the first time, Ronan felt the heavy weight of his resumed responsibilities sink his shoulders. He'd accepted the role of head of household five years ago with pride, a long-held dream accomplished. He hungered to enact his lofty ambitions and bring the Corvina household to unmatched glory.
Though the role was fulfilling, it had taken its toll on Ronan. A pang of longing rippled over him for the nights when he could be reckless and free, when the burden of leadership didn't have him in a stranglehold alongside his fear of failure. Those nights were long gone.
As head of the Corvina household, it was his duty to protect his ravens at all costs. Even if it meant his life. It was paramount that he learned to control his new power and fight back against the sinister allure of the dark magic if it ensnared him again. If he didn't… Ana was right. The courtiers would blame him and kill him, and his household would suffer too.
Ronan’s heart jerked as Bailey's devastated face came to mind.
He couldn't be with her, let alone complete their soulmark. The cost of failure was already too high with his life on the line. If they dared to even seal their soulmarks, it would irreversibly tie Bailey’s fate to him, which meant if he died, so did she.
Ronan swallowed roughly. Knowing some kind of dark magic had possession of him was already more than enough reason for him to avoid joining their soulmarks, let alone the new death threat hanging above him.
And what if the dark magic possessed her through their bond? The thought made his blood run cold. Would she fall victim to its power too?
He had never bothered to study soulmark lore in depth when he was younger, or even when his had appeared unexpectedly a few years back after another trip to the Otherworld because he’d known the basics of its workings. Like how with every stage of the binding, a pair’s souls drew closer and closer to being one, and the ensuing connection deepened to some kind of transcendental level.
He also knew not every soulmark found their match.
That alone was enough for him to ignore its existence while he and Jax continued their exploits in the Otherworld. Now his lack of knowledge was biting back. Ronan wanted to kick himself.
He didn’t know how deeply his problems would affect her, only that they would. Ronan’s eyes shuttered closed momentarily. He was barely staying afloat as it was. Bailey would drown if exposed to his inner turmoil and the dark magic. It didn’t matter that she was as brilliant as she was strong; he couldn't risk Bailey’s safety or life like that.
He wouldn't.
Once upon a time, they could have pursued a relationship. But that was years ago. Before the Otherworld turned on him and Jax. Before he came back broken. Ronan's hand clenched around his tumbler. The crystal's decorative spiked bottom dug into his palm and fingers, forcing him back to reality.
He would keep her at arm's length. Farther, if he could. It was the best way to keep her safe. The only way.
The notion solidified in Ronan’s stomach like hard stone. If they weren’t attached, she couldn’t get hurt. Just the thought of Bailey hurt, riled his soulmark and made it flare with discomfort that was all too visceral.
He shoved the feeling away. Distance was the key to keeping Bailey safe from harm’s way. Ronan rolled his shoulders back. As for his family, he would take a different approach. He needed them and their collective power, which meant he needed to tell them everything.
"Gather everyone to the common room in the next thirty minutes," Ronan instructed.
They were the largest shifter pack in residence at court with twenty-two ravens. It would take time to hunt down any who weren't already in their suite, but if anyone could rally their numbers, it was Ana. At his command, she set down her glass and left the room.
Thirty minutes later, Ronan stood before his household with Ana and his younger brother, Callum, at his side. Most of the raven shifters in the room were related somehow. The others came from across the globe to be part of the action.
"Brothers and sisters, I've called you here on a matter of grave importance," Ronan said.
"Does this have to do with the butcher bride? Everyone is saying Laxmi killed her husband and maid of honor in a fit of rage. The dormice were called to clean it up," a tall, willowy brunette spoke anxiously from the back. She was new to the household. Only a few weeks in and still adjusting to the very literal kill-or-be-killed lifestyle at court. "Whispers are running rampant already that dark magic was involved."
"They're saying the same in the Styx," Riley, a twice-removed cousin of Ronan's, claimed. "They say a spirit was summoned to possess the bride. A shadowmancer."
The household erupted into speculation, exchanging news of what they'd heard as well as their own suspicions.
Ronan observed them stoically, listening to their words with veiled interest. His family's most valuable asset was their remarkable knowledge of the goings-on at court. Combined with their keen minds, they anticipated plots and political moves before they happened. It always provided them with the opportunity to stay out of the line of fire or push others into it.
