“Of course not. We sent your rescuer. Tea? You look a bit worn out, and a bit of tea helps everything.” A silver tea service appeared to her left. No poof of magic, noise, or light had accompanied its arrival, making Diana wonder if she’d just missed it sitting there all along.
Lea didn’t wait for a response, but poured the tea, adding a drop of milk and one of the smaller, broken sugar cubes, exactly as Diana liked it. She didn’t have the strength to dwell on how the odd fading figure sitting across from her knew about that little tidbit, and instead sipped her tea.
“My rescuer?” The caveman who had all but thrown her over his shoulder and kidnapped her? “That madman is the good guy?”
In which case this ghostlike figure was the good gal, which seemed a bit of a leap at the moment. She didn’t look like a monster, but she did look crafty.
“Of course. Cadan is your guardian, assigned to watch over you.”
“Watch over me? Why? And why am I even here?” Frustration was quickly being replaced by exhaustion. She just wanted a nap. No. Buck up, buttercup. This is not the time to be napping.
“To remember who you were and to accomplish what you must.”
“What I must?”
“Precisely. Whatever you were reborn for. You’ve already experienced catalyzing events back in America. Soon, something will jog your memory and you’ll remember your past and the task that you were reborn to accomplish. But enough of that. Go on now—Cadan will meet you in the morning so that he can keep you safe while you do so.”
“Cadan? The bodyguard?” The thought exhausted her even more. She didn’t want to see him again.
“Guardian. Cadan is a Mythean Guardian. He works for the Praesidium, the department that protects us. Now off to bed with you—that tea is beginning to make you drowsy and it is best if you’re in bed before it takes full effect.”
It was the last thing Diana heard before she collapsed back into her chair.
Chapter 6
Esha opened her eyes in her flat at the university, shaking so hard that her knees felt like they’d give out. Thank the gods for her ability to aetherwalk with the Chairman. Traveling through the aether that filled the space between earth and the afterworlds normally didn’t take so much out of her, but after what she’d witnessed down there, it was no surprise.
“Oh, Chairman, what the fuck was that?” Her voice was unnaturally high, frightened even. She hated hearing it. How was she supposed to be tough if she sounded like a scared little girl? Shameful.
The Chairman didn’t respond. What could he say, after all? Meow? The familiar earthy scent of the plants she kept throughout the room didn’t soothe her as it usually did, and though the moonlight that shone through the windows on every wall banished some of the gloom, her terror lingered, crawling over her skin with sharp little claws.
Hell. Oh, hell. She’d never seen shadows that big. Shadows always accompanied a soul or a body or a ghost. But there had been nothing but the writhing, snaking, endless black of evil.
She stalked to the southeast window and yanked it open so that she could lean out and squint toward Edinburgh. The city was barely visible from her tower, perched high above the university to the northwest of the bustling metropolis. Sparkling lights in the distance revealed nothing out of the ordinary.
She imagined the many people going about their business, blissfully unaware of what lay under their feet. Stupid, happy, smiling people opened their doors to friends invited over for dinner parties, welcoming them into the light and brightness of their homes. Children sprinted through the streets, desperate to make it in before curfew, while others loitered with friends around parks and shops without a care. Stupid, happy people with no idea what was going on beneath them.
But nothing looked out of the ordinary, at least from what she could see. It wasn’t like there was a great cloud of evil shadows billowing up from the sewers, power flickering out and the screams of the damned echoing as hell reached its greedy talons up to drag them down. She huffed out a breath, then whirled away from the window. Damn it.
She glared at the cat, who lounged in the center of the room, deeply unconcerned as always. “Couldn’t you be a little worried?”
Not that it would make a difference. She didn’t know what was going on in the underground and the Chairman didn’t know or care, which left only one option.
She’d have to tell somebody, and she knew just the person. Somebody she didn’t particularly want to talk to because she always put her foot in her mouth around him, but whom she’d be quite happy to stare at for a while.