Below the Surface

Chapter Six

“By the Light’s own heart,” Aerolus said in awe. “She’s attacking Arim.”

Marcus pushed himself to his feet in time to see Tessa attacking Arim’s still-materializing shape. And she was doing a decent job of it. The wily sorcerer couldn’t fight as effectively between states, for which Marcus was at this moment eternally grateful. He had no doubt were Arim at his best, Tessa would now be dead.

As it was, Marcus raced between Tessa and Arim, shielding her with his body and forcing her to back away with his mind.

“It’s okay, Tessa,” he repeated. “Arim’s a friend.”

Her efforts slowed Arim’s materialization but did not hinder his eventual shift. Willing it to be enough, Marcus threw up a wall of water between them and Arim and enforced the shield with his mind. The blow, when it landed, shook him enough that his focus faltered and water drenched his entire room.

Fortunately, he had Tessa protected in his arms when he wavered and therefore intercepted Arim’s second strike with his body. Pain, the likes of which he hadn’t felt in years, fingered up his spine. Yet he refused to release Tessa until the danger had passed.

“Enough,” roared Arim in the wake of his brothers’ hasty explanations. “What’s going on? Marcus?”

The pain in Marcus’ back faded, replaced with a glowing warmth, and he finally felt free to ease his hold on Tessa, who by this time had gone strangely still.

“Arim, meet Tessa Sheridan,” Aerolus said calmly. “Marcus’ friend.”

Tessa squirmed suddenly, and Marcus reluctantly gave her some space, though he kept a protective arm around her waist.

Arim cocked his head, his dark eyes blazing with barely fettered power. “Have I you to thank for my welcome?” he asked dryly.

She blushed and looked from Arim to Marcus and his brothers. “I’m sorry, it’s just that the last time I saw something appear like that we were attacked by wraiths.”

Immediately, Arim’s eyes softened and he held out a hand to Tessa. “My apologies, then, Tessa Sheridan. I am Arim, and I mean you no harm.”

“Yeah, I get that, now.” She shook his hand and released it quickly to turn to Marcus. “I didn’t realise what you were doing when you came at me.” She stopped when he rid his bedroom of water and began picking up pieces of a shattered sculpture from the floor. “Marcus! Your back!”

Marcus had no idea what was bothering her now, so he wasn’t prepared when she yanked him to her, violently. Scowling, he tried to turn but she held him in a mental grip so strong he knew she was unaware of her psychic thrall.

“Your clothes are shredded and your back is bright red. Are you alright? What happened? What can I do?” she asked in rapid succession.

“I’m fine,” he said, and pushed through her will to face her. He couldn’t help feeling gratified at her concern. She really had no idea how strong she grew when emotionally charged, but he could see the worry lining her beautiful blue eyes. “The minute Arim knew it was me, he eased the pain of the fire blast.”

Her eyes widened and he cursed himself for his poor choice of words. She grabbed him by the shirt and tugged him around so that she could see his back again. The touch of her warm palm on his skin sent a shiver of sensual delight through him. He only hoped it didn’t show.

When he glanced up at Arim and his brothers’ knowing looks, he cursed.

“What? Did I hurt you?” Tessa asked innocently, stopping her stroking fingers mid-touch.

“No, I’m fine,” he said through clenched teeth. He reached around and pulled Tessa to his side. “Now why don’t we sit on the bed and catch up with Arim like normal people?”

Cadmus snorted. “Don’t you mean, people pretending to be normal?” He whistled when Marcus and Tessa moved past him to the bed. “No wonder you were worried, Tessa. Now that I can see it, Marcus, your back looks like hell.”

Aerolus reproved Cadmus, and while they argued, Marcus reassured Tessa he was indeed fine. Seeing how disturbed she was by his back, he decided to cover it up. Damn, all his clean clothes were downstairs in the laundry. Once again, Cadmus had slacked on his portion of the housework.

“I’ll just be a minute while I change,” he told her, sparing a scowl for Cadmus. “Don’t move, and don’t let anyone intimidate you.” He glared at Arim warningly. Despite the sorcerer’s powers, Marcus wouldn’t tolerate any more threats in her direction, from anyone.

Arim arched a brow in question but said nothing.

“I’ll be right back,” Marcus promised and hurried out the door down a flight of stairs to the laundry.

As he tossed off the ruined shirt and grabbed a plain, grey sweater from atop the dryer, he couldn’t help feeling absolutely useless. Once again he was late detecting a threat. Tessa had responded instinctively to a shift in the energy fields. Yet Marcus, who knew better, casually accepted the disturbance assuming it was Arim.

What if Arim hadn’t been the intruding source? What if instead ‘Sin Garu had managed to find them and sent both the Netharat and the Djinn to counter the safety spells surrounding the house?

Marcus threw on the sweater, feeling like a total failure. How could he hope to protect a kingdom when he couldn’t even protect a single woman? Twice now she’d come to his aid, instead of the other way around. Dejection settled heavily on his shoulders and he gazed bitterly at his reflection in the paned glass of the room’s only window.

Royal Four, ha. More like Royal Three and a Mistake.

Lifting his chin, as he’d often seen his father do before addressing the masses, he called to the Beyond. “Father, I deeply regret my shortcomings, yet know I pledge above all else my life for our world. In this I will not fail.”

He left before he could see an answering visage of the late King Faustus and the disappointment in his father’s silver gaze. But instead of the overking’s ghostly reflection, he missed the wavering image of sad frustration lingering over a once-great monarch and failing father.

“Very impressive,” Arim murmured as he studied Tessa from the top of her head to her bare feet.

Nothing about the perusal was sexual, yet Tessa still had the feeling she’d been most thoroughly examined. Arim’s gaze made her feel like a woman first and foremost. And damn, did every male from Tanselm have the ability to make a woman salivate?

Arim, the mightiest sorcerer in all the land, according to Cadmus’ whispered side note, sat across from her on a leather recliner, just sitting and staring as if she were a school science project.

She stared back, startled to note that he looked at her with the same expression Marcus normally used at the office. A rosy blush settled over her face despite her attempt to appear unfazed by the powerful sorcerer, and she glared at him when a smile hinted at his hard lips.

“So you’re a siphon,” he said and nodded, as if the concept made perfect sense to him. He knew of her ability? It had a name? “Yes, I’m aware of the ability, rare though it is. And what an odd coincidence you knew its name.”

She blinked. Had he just read her mind?

“Yes, I did. But as spellcasters consider it a trespass, I shall try to refrain from doing so again. Wouldn’t want to get the River Prince in a tizzy.”

His fathomless black eyes crinkled, and though he didn’t outwardly grin, she knew he was laughing on the inside.

“River Prince?”

“Marcus,” he clarified. “Commander of the waters, bringer of life. He shall rule the south once he finds what he seeks.”

“And what would that be?”

“Marcus, glad you’re back,” Cadmus said loudly, interrupting the conversation. “Arim and Tessa were just getting acquainted.”

Arim turned his amusement towards Marcus, affording Tessa a chance to study him better. As she watched the dark-eyed sorcerer, she found it unnerving how much he reminded her of Marcus. Same piercing stare, same arrogant mannerisms, same aristocratic features and olive-hued skin. Incredibly, Arim stood a head taller than the Storm brothers. Yet it wasn’t his height so much as his presence that threatened.

“Arim,” Marcus said, breaking her introspection. She watched the two clench forearms in lieu of a handshake. Arim murmured about Darius and Samantha, presumably the missing brother and his wife.

She continued her perusal, staring at Marcus far more than she liked but unable to stop herself. Because she couldn’t stop staring at the blue-eyed jerk, she’d only half-heard his conversation when the word ‘affai’ perked her interest.

“What did you say?”

Arim looked over his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to exclude you, Tessa. I was merely informing Marcus and his brothers about Darius and his affai, Samantha.”

Samantha had married Darius, that Tessa knew. So Samantha was his wife, his love. His affai? But Marcus had called Tessa his affai. After making love, he’d hugged her close and nuzzled her cheek, whispering lovely words in that foreign, lyrical language. Affai…what did it mean?

Sweetheart, probably. Then what did sertia mean? She desperately wanted to ask, but the unnerving stares from the Storm brothers made her hesitate.

“Something on your mind, Tessa?” Aerolus asked casually and glanced at Marcus, who stared at her with a hunger in his eyes. Too bad that hunger hadn’t precluded his obnoxious attitude earlier.

What the hell? If her question made him uncomfortable, so be it. She was already uncomfortable after nearly blasting his friend with God-knew whose powers. “As a matter of fact,” she began slowly, her eyes fixed on Marcus’ too-calm face. “I was wondering if you could translate a few words for me.” Alarm replaced Marcus’ composed demeanour.

“Ask away,” Arim answered with dancing eyes.

“What does sertia mean?”

“Sertia?” Cadmus repeated with surprise. “It’s a compliment. Roughly translated, it means ‘comely lover’.” A dimple appeared on his left cheek. “It’s usually used in context with a woman, a very sexy, thoroughly entrancing woman,” he murmured as he studied her with humoured, bedroom eyes.

Marcus frowned. “Relax, Cadmus,” he bit with disdain. “I swear you’re in heat.”

Aerolus coughed to hide his amusement but Arim seemed glued to the byplay, his attention on Marcus an almost tangible thing.

“Comely lover? I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.” She smiled sweetly as Marcus narrowed his eyes. “Then what does affai mean? Sweetcakes? Honeybunch?” she teased, hoping to put an end to her buzzing curiosity about the matter.

“It means bride of the Royal Four,” Aerolus said quietly.

“Which is what Samantha is to Darius,” Marcus added after a beat.

“But that’s what you called me,” she blurted, astounded by the translation. She could have kicked herself for saying so when four pairs of powerful eyes settled on her, one in shock, two in surprised amusement, and one in extreme satisfaction.

“So you say the River Prince is taken with the fiery-haired female?”

The wraith nodded, fear oozing out of its every last pore. ‘Sin Garu was not happy, and had no compunction taking his displeasure out on those undeserving. “Truly, lord. I managed a glimpse of the River Prince protecting the female during the fight before you called me back, else I’d have stayed to save the others.”

‘Sin Garu stroked his thin lower lip, idly creasing the red flesh with a long, sharpened nail. The wraith couldn’t stop staring in helpless fascination. Much like those they prayed upon, his master had the pure skin and perfect features of a powerful sorcerer.

Long, lustrous blond hair shone in the dim light of his chambers, vying for attention with the sparkling flame of candlelight in the corner. The wraith absently ran a claw over its lumpy skull.

“This is good news, Caeth,” Garu murmured. “Very good.” He smiled, a gift of sharp white teeth that put Caeth’s blackened grin to shame. “I can almost forgive your brethrens’ failed attempt on the first affai, the mate of that enraged fire breather.” He pursed his lips. “A waste of anger on that one. She looked quite tasty, but what’s done is done.”

He sighed and ran his hands over the marble tabletop upon which his attention was concentrated. Caeth, gauging his master’s mood, took a closer step and noted the vision swirling under his master’s gaze. A small sheet of murky water lay pooled on the tabletop. And every now and again, a hint of candlelight illuminated the image of a pale woman with lustrous red hair and bright blue eyes. Caeth thought she appeared tasty indeed, and salivated at the idea of biting into such tender flesh.

“Not until I’ve had my fill.” ‘Sin Garu read his thoughts easily, a soft note of apology making him seem a noble taskmaster, and not the evil feeder of souls Caeth knew him to be.

Again, Caeth was taken aback that a man so pure in looks and so calm in spirit could house such darkness. Never before had his kind encountered a man like ‘Sin Garu, and he still had trouble understanding exactly how the man had made his alliances.

Always hungry, wraiths categorized everything in terms of sustenance. One bite could paralyse their prey with pain, offering a tasty treat in terms of hot blood and bone, and the precious struggle to survive. Only the Djinn had the magical wherewithal to completely withstand a wraith bite. All other members of the sorcerer’s guild and non-gifted that lived in Tanselm fell prey to wraith toxins within mere moments of being bitten, survival dependent upon individual strength of the victim.

‘Sin Garu, however, had withstood several wraith bites and inflicted his own damage, ensuring he would be heard by the wraith king. Since then, wraiths were forced to abide his command. Four rulers in all, over a twenty-year period, had risen and fallen on ‘Sin Garu’s word.

Caeth stared with glowing worship. ‘Sin Garu had the beauty, the control and the power of a true dark leader. And since promoting Caeth to Liaison upon Mirego’s death a month earlier, the sorcerer could do no wrong in the wraith’s eyes.

‘Sin Garu turned from the table he watched and winked at Caeth. “I do love you so,” he promised and laid a gentle kiss on Caeth’s uneven forehead. “It’s as if you were created just for me.”

Caeth’s heartbeat jumped, and a new, altogether unpleasant hunger pestered. Sexual urges were uncomfortable and unwelcome, a ravenous desire that made the ache in his belly throb like an infection.

“That’s right, Caeth.” ‘Sin Garu laughed, a musical sound that made Caeth want to weep with joy. “You’ll soon sate your appetite. Find me our contact in the new world and bring the Djinn here to me with all haste. Our answers lie in the little schemer’s blood.”

Caeth nodded and bowed, and scurried off to do ‘Sin Garu’s bidding.

The sorcerer watched with slitted eyes, pleased with Mirego’s replacement. Fawning and the inability to think past a given order were worth far more than an intelligent lackey. Mirego had tried to lure Prince Darius’ mate and instead lost her to the Tetrarch, giving the Storm Lords another advantage they didn’t need. Caeth would not make the same mistake.

No, this wraith was in too much awe and fear of the great ‘Sin Garu. With a soft chuckle, he gathered his thoughts on the woman’s face in the scrying stone.

Unlike the first royal affai, this one had not yet committed herself to her prince. He studied her picture, a stirring of lust surprising him into looking deeper. Dark auburn hair and bright blue eyes made him think of his mother’s relatives on the southern portion of the island. And Tessa Sheridan’s ability to draw on another’s power was an invaluable piece of skill he could put to good use destroying the Storm Lords.

He smiled, a sincere expression of delight. Thoughts of ridding his world of the Storm Lords for good, of returning Tanselm to its rightful owners, made him want to shout with joy. For too long the true natives of Tanselm lived in the dark, scurrying like rats in festering filth. The Netharat, his personal creation, an army of wraiths, ice demons and the Shadren, had made a lasting impression on the conceited lords and ladies of Tanselm at their last meeting.

But he knew the royal usurpers needed more. They needed to learn what it felt like to live day in and day out in waste and decay, to experience life between the light, to know how it felt to be ripped of one’s heritage and channelled into forgetfulness simply because you weren’t born at the right time with the right brethren.

His temper simmered as he glared at an image of the River Prince’s new lady. Tessa Sheridan. She would help him make the Storm Lords pay. This time, he wouldn’t fail. Prince Marcus and the others would watch firsthand as their lands, and their supposed affai, fell to him, ‘Sin Garu, last of the Nostren elite.