AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Feddrah-Dahns bobbed his head. "What choice do we have? These girls aren't capable of fighting off a demon lord without help. They may have their allies, but against an army of demons led by Shadow Wing? Under no sense of the imagination can they win without outside help."
"Good point," Smoky said as he sat down, crossing his legs and leaning back. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. "Out of curiosity, to what emissary did you entrust the horn?">Chase joined me. "You okay?" he asked softly.
I nodded. "Yes. I'm just wondering if I have the strength needed for this."
He glanced back at the others. "What are you talking about?"
Leaning against the windowsill, I gave him a sideways look. "First, the fact that we have a demon spy here in Seattle and he's got Fae working for him is bad enough. It means Rozurial was right: the demons are infiltrating and looking for other ways to aid their invasion. But there's also the fact that Raksasas are terribly dangerous. They originated in Persia, and they have powerful magic at their disposal."
"Worse than Bad Ass Luke?"
I met his gaze. "Far worse. Trust me, Bad Ass Luke was dangerous, but Raksasas… Raksasas are cunning and brilliant and charming."
"Bad news, then." He glanced back at the others. "And they all know this?"
"Oh yes. We all know how dangerous these demons are. But now… we're—I'm—offered the horn of the Black Unicorn? Only a spellcaster can wield it. A mage or wizard or… witch. I'll have to assume control of it, and I do mean assume control—it's not like driving a car. These artifacts have minds of their own. My sisters won't be able to touch it. And it will be up to me to see that it doesn't fall in the wrong hands." Yet one more responsibility I didn't want to shoulder, but that I'd have to.
"What is this creature? Hell, I figured if you existed, unicorns probably would, too, but…"
"A lot of Otherworlders claim that the horn is a myth. They even say the Black Beast himself is a myth, perpetuated by the Dahns unicorns to increase their mystique, since the first Black Unicorn supposedly fathered the Dahns lineage. But my father believed in the legends, and so did my teachers. And apparently," I said, looking over at Feddrah-Dahns, "it turns out legend is based in reality."
"The Black Beast? Is he a demon, then?"
I smiled gently. "No, he's not a demon." Looking out into the growing night, I could feel the spring beckon even through the fog that rose to roll across our front yard. Magic sparkled in the mists. Earthside weather carried elemental forces with it from land to sea to mountaintop. Sometimes I missed our home so much that it hurt, and other times—like now—the realms seemed so connected that I felt like I could close my eyes, and when I opened them, I'd be back in Y'Elestrial.
Chase waited patiently, watching out the window as he stood next to me. I glanced at his face. His eyes were half closed, as if he could sense the magic that permeated the air.
After a moment, I slowly let out the breath I'd been holding. "The Black Beast, or Black Unicorn, is one of the most powerful beings to ever walk the paths of Otherworld. He's a giant, towering over all other unicorns. His horn is crystal, and within it swirl threads of gold and silver. The horn is reputed to wield heavy elemental magic. The magic isn't evil, but shadowed and sparkling with the magic of Darkynwyrd."
"Darkynwyrd?"
"Darkynwyrd, the Wild Forest, filled with oak moss and spiderwebs and bogs and quicksand. The Black Unicorn left the valleys thousands of years ago and retreated to Darkynwyrd, where he and his descendants live deep within the misty woodland."
A smile playing on his lips, Chase winked at me. "Sounds like a fairy tale. How could Feddrah-Dahns get hold of his horn? Wouldn't that kill a unicorn, to lose his horn?"
He actually sounded interested. Too often, I had the feeling Chase asked questions because he had to, not because he really wanted to know the answers.
"Not always, although most unicorns, when they lose their horns, eventually diminish and die. Or they go mad and become so dangerous that the Elemental Lords have to send out assassins to kill them."
I frowned, trying to remember the rest of the story. "The Black Unicorn is an exception. He sheds his horn once every thousand years and grows a new one. There are three of the shed horns that supposedly still exist, but nobody's ever known who has them or where they might be. The horn of the Black Unicorn is worth… well, if it were an Earthside artifact, figure in the neighborhood of several million dollars."
Chase whistled. "I see. So this is a actually worth a king's ransom. How can its powers help you?"
"I'm not sure, but apparently, I'm going to find out." As the doorbell rang, I excused myself. "I'll get it."
A peek out the peephole sent a warm flush through me. Smoky. Uh-oh. I hadn't seen him in almost three weeks. As I opened the door, the scent of leather and musk filled my nose, sending me reeling as my knees buckled.
"Camille," he said, his voice a low rumble. He reached down and caught me up in his arms before I hit the floor. Embarrassed—I never swooned like that—I squirmed out of his embrace and stepped back, pulse racing.
Smoky was six four, every inch of his lean frame taut and muscled. His ankle-length hair wasn't in its usual braid, but the silver locks flowed around him, a mane that mirrored the pale splendor of his skin. In dragon form, he was a vision in white, almost opalescent. In human form, he was simply beautiful.
I gazed at him, starting at his feet and working my way up. His ankle-length white trench hung open to reveal skintight white jeans that left me trembling. An engraved silver belt cinched his waist, and a pale blue button-down shirt opened to show the V of his neck. As I looked into his face, the only indication of his age was the timeless brilliance of his eyes, pale glaciers from the Northlands, and the faint five o'clock shadow that left his chin slightly rugged.
"What are you doing here?" The heady perfume that swirled around him sucked me under again. He was running pheromones so strong that I could almost taste him on the tip of my tongue. And I wanted to taste more.
"I've come for you," he said.
Oh hell. I owed Smoky a week as his playmate—a bargain that had bought us much-needed help, but so far had brought me nothing but headaches. Caught between wanting to go and knowing that there was a unicorn in our living room who was promising me a king's ransom in help, I shifted from one foot to the other.
