When I turned the page again, I found an image of Nyxobas, god of night. His cowl cloaked his features. The artist had painted a midnight sky with silver stars around him. Just a picture of him was enough to fill me with a sense of dread—as if a void were beginning to eat at me from the inside out.
Shuddering, I turned the pages until I got to a chapter about the Heavenly Host. Just as Kur had said, the text mentioned a hundred million angels, organized into cohorts and legions. An archangel commanded each legion.
Okay. Demons and angels, we’d covered that part. Where did I come in?
I continued leafing through, landing on a page where the text was adorned with images of leaves, beside a picture of a tree whose gnarls seemed to form a sort of face. Silver light glowed around the tree—and a single, silver branch gleamed in the candlelight.
Of course. This represented the Old Gods. A quick scan of the text confirmed everything Yasmin had told me—the Old Gods had grown with life on earth, and were native to this world. They sought to free us from the scourge of the earthly gods, from the angels and demons who tried to control us. In times of crisis, they gave us what we needed through the earth itself.
A loud, exaggerated yawn from across the table interrupted my thoughts momentarily, and I looked up to find Tanit staring at me. “Is this really how long it takes a fae to read?”
Sighing, I returned to the text. And that brought me to the final section—the one about the Bringer of Light. Here, the artist had painted an image of a silver-haired creature, her body incandescent. Blue gems gleamed from her forehead like rays of light.
My pulse began to race. I was supposed to be one of these godlike creatures? I was good with harvesting herbs and moss from the ground, but this seemed a bit much. I sucked in a sharp breath, focusing intently on the text.
Here, I found an account of the Stones of Zahar—gemstones mined from a watery grotto.
According to the book, Bringers of Light were born every few hundred years, and they served the Old Gods. A Bringer of Light, united with the gems, would have the power to fight angels, to reclaim the earth for the Old Gods.
Of course, it didn’t give any details beyond that.
As I closed the book, a cloud of dust rose in the air. “Okay, I guess the story checks out in the old book. When do we leave?”
“As soon as my wing heals,” said Adonis. “We just need to hope for two things. One, that Johnny fails to recover his memory anytime soon.”
“And the other?” I prompted.
Adonis’s eyes flashed with a pale light. “Well, let’s just hope that none of the celestial angels manage to figure out who you are before we get to Sadeckrav Castle.”
Tanit smiled. “We wouldn’t want your pretty fae face splattered all over the earth.”
Chapter 17
Adonis’s powerful, dark wings practically trailed against the ground as he walked by my side over the rocky outcrop that overlooked the ocean. I pulled my coat tight around myself, tasting salt on my lips.
“So glad we managed to convince you,” said Adonis. “I’d hate for the fate of the world to sink into an abyss just because of your trust issues.”
“Yes, I’m on board.”
The scent of brine floated on the wind, and along with it, Adonis’s deliciously exotic scent slipped around my skin.
“You’re going to be undercover again,” he said. “But you’re used to that.”
“What’s my role?”
“We had to go with something realistic. Kur sent word to Aereus, explaining that I’ve tamed a succubus concubine for my pleasure,” he purred. “Obviously, it was the most logical thing to do.”
I glared at him. “Tamed?”
“Taming a succubus is a common angelic fantasy. It’s how you were able to beguile Kratos so easily.”
“Right. That was the only option, I’m sure. Are you going to tell me why you’re so desperate to go to the celestial realms? You’ve never lived there before. Why so eager to divest yourself of a human body?”
When he met my gaze, I found something unexpected there—just the faintest hint of vulnerability in his gray eyes. “I’ve been here long enough. I’ve done all I can on earth.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t be super awesome to have to stab yourself in the heart all the time.”
“You’re certainly catching on.”
The marine winds toyed with my crimson hair. “It seems like you spent your time among shadow demons over the centuries. When did you join up with the other horsemen?”
“We didn’t find each other until just before the Great Nightmare began. I’ve spent most of the centuries hiding my wings, disguising myself as a demon. I fought alongside Tanit and Kur in more wars than I can count.”
Below us, the waves crashed hard against the rocky shore, and mist dampened my skin. “So you spent centuries pretending to be someone you’re not.”
“Something you’re familiar with, isn’t it?” His voice twined softly around me.
“I guess. You’re not complaining about my disguise, are you? You hate the fae.”
He studied me carefully. “Not all of them.”
I walked by his side, our footsteps crunching over the gravel path. The path wound sinuously around the cliff’s edge, wrapping around the ancient, gothic castle itself.
I folded my arms. “And what makes us worse than demons?”
“Demons lose control because they can’t help it. The fae worship chaos, seek it out. I spent too much time among them.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just say my particular skill set appealed to them—death and pleasure.” A haunted edge tinged his voice, and I knew he was only giving me part of the story—a sanitized version.
“Your kind are fascinating, I’ll admit,” he continued in his deep, alluring timbre. “The fae are as beautiful as you are brutal.”
His description startled me. In fact, it was exactly how I’d describe him. “Beautiful?”
A slow, heartbreaking smile. “Yes.” He paused, running a fingertip over my cherry-red hair. “Where’s the real Ruby under all this?”
Warmth spread between my ribs. “I’m not sure you want to see the real Ruby. It’s not just glamour that hides me. Glamour is an illusion—the hair color, the eye color, the ears. But you know the fae also shift. That’s an actual, physical change. My canines grow, and my muscles become stronger, swifter. Some older fae stay in that state all the time. But a young fae like me—we don’t keep control so well.”
“Show me.” A seductive plea and a command. “I want to see you under there.”
A dark heat thrummed through my blood. I never shifted completely, not unless I went feral, and yet here, in the forlorn salty air, I found myself wanting to do as he said. “Like I said. It’s not easy to control.”
Amusement curled his beautiful lips. “I think I’ll be able to handle it.”
Why was it so hard to say no to him? Maybe because he’d spent thousands of years honing the skill of getting what he wanted. He used his voice, his beauty as a weapon.
I closed my eyes, letting the glamour fade with a sharp tingling over my skin. The sea air wrapped around me.