Shadow Fallen Read online

  Suddenly, she slammed against a cold, hard ground, her body throbbing in a way she couldn’t fathom.

  What had happened to her?

  Fury tore through her as she looked about, trying to make sense of it.

  The buzzing in her ears gave way to the gentle call of birds frolicking in the forest. But the sound soon dulled until all she could hear was an occasional bird’s cry, and the rustle of a breeze through bright late-autumn leaves. Even her heartbeat faded until she could no longer hear it.

  Ariel pushed herself up, but quickly fell again, her limbs shaking with unfamiliar heaviness. Her pale hair tumbled around her shoulders, hanging in her face. She tried to breathe through the heavy weight, but her breath caught in the strands suffocating her.

  What the hell was this?

  Suddenly, a hand snatched back the mass of hair.

  Ariel looked up into the face of hatred and she knew the source of her fate. She’d seen this sorceress before. “What have you done to me?” Her throat stung from the use of vocal cords that hadn’t existed ten minutes ago.

  The old, withered woman glared at her with dark, hate-filled eyes. “You stole from me my most precious possession. I begged you for mercy and still you took my son. ’Tis time you learned what it means to have your heart torn from your breast!”

  That unfamiliar rage coursed through her, even more ferociously this time. Never had she known the like. Ariel was a creature of the highest source and they weren’t supposed to lose their temper.

  To hate.

  Yet her body responded to the woman’s presence with a burning fury that made her yearn for retaliation. She wanted to hurt her.

  More than that, she wanted …

  What?

  She didn’t understand the bitter, awful feeling. Nor did she like it.

  “Return me to my place!”

  The old woman’s laugh echoed around her, into the trees of the forest surrounding them. “I cannot undo my spell. Only you can.”

  “What do you mean?” Ariel stared at her in utter disbelief. “I can’t stay here.” She knew nothing of survival in their world.

  People died here!

  A prayer came to her lips, but she knew that wouldn’t help. Free will gave all beings sovereignty over their existence, and unless it interfered with matters of life and death, nature, even evil nature, was given its due course.

  Damn them all for it!

  This wasn’t her realm. Her kind couldn’t survive in this hideous place where men ate their own.

  Even their young.

  It was forbidden! Not to mention the fact that she didn’t want to be here.

  Among them. Petty creatures like the crone before her, who cared nothing for anyone other than themselves. They lived to sow strife and pain.

  Truly, she loathed them all.

  Looking up at the clear gray sky above them, Ariel knew she must return to her domain before the taint of mortalness damaged her eternally and left its stink upon her.

  Turned her into the pitiless crone before her and made her every bit as cold and unfeeling.

  “What must I do?” Ariel asked in desperation.

  The smile that curved the crone’s lips sent a shiver down her spine. “You must do as I did with my son. You must love with all your heart, then watch what you love most die horribly and in pain. Hold him in your arms while he struggles for life, and cry in misery as you’re helpless to stop the angel that comes to steal his soul after he draws that final breath. Only then will you be free.”

  Are you serious? She was being punished for doing her job?

  Ariel shook her head in denial. “I grieve for your loss, but I have no choice about whom I take from this world. I’m given orders that I have to follow.”

  Whenever a particularly skilled warrior died, the Naşāru were sent after them to recruit them to their ranks as a nekoda. It was a noble calling for her son. But she wasn’t allowed to tell that to the crone.

  The old woman laughed bitterly. “And now you dance to my command.” As she walked a small circle around her, dried, fallen leaves dragged crisply under the full ragged hem of her skirt. “I know you don’t understand grief. You’re not capable of it. But you will, little reaper. You will!”

  Then she was gone.

  Ariel looked around the forest. No trace remained of the woman. If she could dream, she’d blame it on that, but she never slept. Nor did she feel stiff, dry grass beneath her hands, the cool breath of air on her cheeks, nor the heat of the sun on human skin.

  Yet she felt those things now, and by that she knew this was real. A true waking nightmare!

  “You can’t leave me here!” She couldn’t be found by her enemies! An Arel alone was a dead one.…

  On trembling limbs, she pushed herself up.

  Lifting her arms above her head, she commanded herself to rise. To fly.

  What had always come so effortlessly refused to obey her now.

  Her golden wings were gone.

  I’m mortal. That terrifying thought shot through her mind with a dizzying fright that spun her head and brought tears to her eyes.

  How could this be?

  She couldn’t fall in love. It wasn’t possible. That didn’t happen to creatures like her. They were never to be so tainted.

  “Surrender yourself to the curse. It’ll be easier if you do.”

  Her heart pounding, she spun around at the words and faced a white wolf. Its eyes glowed red.

  A demon.

  Of course, it would be. What else would stalk her here in this realm?

  Those evil little trolls were ever about to tempt and torment those who lived here. But she wasn’t so stupid, and she’d never fall for their tricks.

  She would never forsake her oath or her station.

  “Leave me in peace. I’ve no use for you.”

  It moved forward. With each step, its form changed until it became a winged shadow creature. One that smelled as foul as its deeds. Only the glowing red eyes remained the same. “You are no longer in my world. Or yours. You are in their world. They will fear you. Beat you. Destroy you. Then where will you be?”

  Ariel lifted her chin with a confidence she didn’t feel. “If they kill me here, I’ll return to where I belong. If I surrender myself to the curse, you’ll drag me to your master. I don’t belong to your infernal prison, and I refuse to damn myself. You’ll never own any part of me.”

  Too many of her kind had fallen to them. She refused to become a member of the Irin. To be marked and hunted by her own brethren while she fought for the dark lords who would abuse her for their own sick amusement.

  That wasn’t her way. She would never succumb. Not for anything.

  His evil laugh rang out. He touched her chin with his icy, chafed fingers. The coldness burned her skin, causing her to flinch. “My master will give me much for the soul of a Naşāru warrior, especially one who serves Michael. Come, pet, be nice and sacrifice yourself for me. I promise you a cooler spot to bathe in if you surrender now.”

  She glared at him, her new body trembling in fear and fury over his offer.

  Belial.

  The name flashed through her mind and she realized some of her powers still remained. But not enough to combat this particular demon, who delighted in mischief and discord, whose evil power was second only to that of Kadar, the king of all evil.

  A cold tremor of panic swept through her.

  She clenched her shaking hands together, knowing her fear gave him strength.

  And that, too, she would never do.

  Standing strong, she glared at him. “I deny your call. Leave me and return to your hole where you kneel in servitude.”

  His eyes flashed, radiating heat and malice. “You will be mine, fair one. And I will gladly serve you to my master.” He curled his shadowed form up into a ball and drifted around her head. The rancid odor of burning flesh and sulfur choked her. “How long can you remain true to your cause now that you’re corrupted by human flesh and
emotion?”

  She opened her mouth to deny him, but as soon as she did, the demon encompassed her head, choking her with its stench. The black thickness filled her body.

  Ariel fought for breath. Her lungs burning, she fell to her knees.

  Still the demon remained inside her, blotting her thoughts, her will.

  “You’ll be ours, Naşāru.” Belial laughed. “And with you, I will earn my freedom and burn this fucking world to the ground!”

  CHAPTER 2

  Disgusted that he was still here and had yet to be relieved of his station by his idiot brother, Valteri watched his men training in the list. The sound of clashing steel rang in his ears, making him yearn to leave this place far behind and yield to the familiar call of battle and war.

  To what he knew best.

  Blood. Gore. Entrails of his enemies on the ground at his feet.

  That was home.

  Not this rancid country he hated so much.

  Battle was his mother. It was the only thing that had ever succored him.

  But could he leave?

  Nay.

  Damn you, Will!

  Months had gone by, and he was still trapped here. If he took off without permission, Will would see him hunted down like a dog. And while he was strong, not even he could fight off an entire army without help.

  So here he remained.

  Because he’d been stupid enough to believe, for one heartbeat, that family mattered.

  What he should have remembered was that there was no worse fate for one such as he than domesticity.

  No one could cage a wild animal. The beast inside him was salivating for freedom. It was snarling and howling more and more with every dawning sun, until he feared he’d go mad from the rage of being held back from the only comfort he knew.

  Even though he’d routed the Saxon rebels as he’d promised his brother, and sent them to London, where they’d met their final fate under the executioner’s ax, William still refused to grant him a reprieve.

  Now, he wished he’d been the one who’d lost his head.

  Instead, Valteri was losing his mind. Bit by bit. Day by day. Especially since there were no rebels left to chase now. No scapegoats to vent his fury.

  What few remained hid themselves from his wrath and sword, and for the last few weeks, peace had reigned in the valley of Ravenswood.

  Damn it to hell.

  Valteri despised peace with everything he had. The extra time it brought—time to think.

  To remember a life that had begrudged him every breath he’d ever taken.

  As if living, itself, wasn’t hell enough. Unlike the men and women around him, he had no purpose in this world.

  Other than to make everyone who met him uncomfortable, and to fill their hearts with hatred toward him for doing nothing more than existing.

  No one could so much as look at him without cringing or insulting him. With the exception of battle, he was unwelcomed everywhere he went.

  Indeed, a leper was treated more humanely. At least with them, they were pitied.

  He was demonspawn. Unworthy of anything except their scorn at worst and their avoidance at best.

  For God’s sake, Will, let me go. He needed to find another war with which to occupy himself so that he had no time for thought, but William steadfastly refused to free him from his duties.

  Bloody bastard.

  “Milord?”

  Valteri turned away from his men to see his squire running toward him. Barely tall enough to reach his shoulder, the dark-haired youth was fair enough in form to make several maids giggle as he passed them. Lucky for him and even luckier for Wace, the boy had no idea the fairer sex found him so appealing.

  Yet.

  Pity the poor fool the day Wace realized they were watching him with such interest.

  All too soon, some lass would no doubt try and trap the boy with her wiles. Then his life would be an even bigger hell than it’d been when Valteri had found him.

  Breathless, Wace reached his side. The blush of youthful exuberance covered his cheeks, mottling them to a bright pink that made his blue eyes all the brighter.

  Valteri couldn’t remember ever feeling that excited about anything.

  Not even his first battle.

  ’Course, he’d been praying the whole time for a fatal blow to end this miserable hell known as life.

  Lucky him, he’d not only survived the ordeal, he’d been one of the heroes of the day. Praised for the fact that he’d fought bravely while the others who’d wanted to live had scampered away, trying to save their measly hides.

  What irony that.

  Sighing, he eyed his huffing squire. “Kitchen on fire?”

  Winded, his squire bent over and wheezed. It took several deep breaths before Wace could finally respond. “The men you sent out scouting have returned. They found a woman in a field.”

  So? ’Twas England. A shepherdess with her flock was as common as the dull, gray sky overhead. No one could pass a field anywhere on this miserable isle they didn’t spot a dozen such creatures. Why that would warrant a breathless, galloping squire, he couldn’t imagine.

  Confused, Valteri scowled. “And a wench causes you to pant at—”

  “Nay, milord. ’Tis no wench, but a lady!”

  His frown deepened. That was a different tale. He couldn’t imagine a lady soiling her precious shoes with cow shit. “Where’s she from?”

  “They know not, milord. Hence why they sent me to fetch you.”

  What fresh madness was this?

  Why bother him with a woman? Even a noble one?

  He sighed heavily at the aggravation.

  Judas’s hairy toes. His men were getting more incompetent every day.

  He’d been right. Peace robbed a warrior of all sense.

  Irritated by the interruption, Valteri ground his teeth and glared at his squire, who was never afraid of him for some insane reason.

  Imbeciles, all. Could they not even take care of a simple lost woman without his direct supervision? Seriously? Were they really that afraid of him?

  Growling deep in his throat, he headed toward the hall with Wace following after him like a dutiful puppy.

  And as he walked, he couldn’t help wondering how his brother had ever managed to conquer England with the fools who fought in his army. Surely they could return one simple maid home to her family without disturbing him.

  Was that really so much to ask?

  After all, dealing with the fairer sex was not something he had much experience with, or tolerance for. Last thing he wanted was to hear her shrieking when she laid eyes upon him. Crossing herself like a frantic nun facing the devil.

  Damning him for a birth he cursed as much as they did.

  These scurrying wretches he passed on his way to the hall were bad enough, but at least they couldn’t look directly at him, as they feared a beating for it, given that they were servants and he their “noble-born” lord.

  As if he’d ever done such to them or anyone else. But their cruelty to people like him was enough that they knew what they deserved, so they feared his retaliation now that he was grown and large enough to give back to them what they’d so unkindly given to him when he was a defenseless boy.

  Which meant these creatures withheld their insults and scurried like roaches at his approach. And waited until after he’d passed them before they began crossing themselves, and whispering their rumors about his diabolical origins.

  Noblewomen were never so kind or restrained.

  Nay, they insulted him to his face.

  He had yet to meet one he didn’t want to murder where she stood. He was certain this one would be no different.

  Seething, Valteri pushed open the heavy wooden door of the hall and was met with the sickening odor of baking bread. His lip curling with disgust, he felt his stomach pitch at the stench of it. How he hated manors and castles, and everything they entailed. He’d spent too many years of his life inside places such as this, listening
to the echoes of foul rumors that resounded off the whitewashed walls.

  He wanted out of this damnable place! He was a warrior, not a lord. And no matter what William thought, he would never be tamed or saddled.

  As Valteri approached the group of men gathered in the center of the hall, they shrank back in fear of his approach, reminding him of a group of cringing magpies.

  Until he saw the lady, lying in their midst on a bench where the others must have placed her.

  His anger dissipated instantly.

  For the first time in years, Valteri hesitated. Deep, dark red cloth hugged the woman’s voluptuous body, spilling onto the floor like a puddle of blood as the sunlight cut across her features and highlighted them. Her flaxen hair lay atop part of the kirtle, its paleness contrasted by the dress’s richness. Never before had he seen a kirtle made in such a shade, nor hair the color of hers. They were so vibrant that they appeared to be living entities all their own.

  A golden cross lay in the hollow of her throat, pulsing with each beat of her heart. Its shape glinted in the dying sunlight that still illuminated the room.

  His hands suddenly clammy, Valteri wondered at the way his heart raced. He was far from the days of a callow youth, yet that was what he felt like as he stared at her. There was something about her that seemed ethereal. Untouchable. Like the first time he’d been alone with a woman.

  He was as nervous now as he’d been for that first paid-for kiss. And that truly infuriated him.

  What kind of fool am I?

  Granted, it’d been the better part of five years or more since he’d last seen a noblewoman, but still … He shouldn’t be this nervous.

  You’re just not used to seeing a woman not mired in pig shit and dressed in rags.

  Aye, it was nothing more than that.

  Wanting to prove it, he reached out and gently turned her face toward him.

  The sight of her features struck him like a blow. She was stunning. Flawless. And he knew every line of those high cheekbones and that alabaster skin.

  ’Twas the face that haunted him from his dreams.

  Gasping, he took a step back, releasing her. For once, he felt the need to cross himself, and he didn’t believe in such stupidity.

  How can this be?