Read Online Bound by Shadow by Anna Windsor - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Anna Windsor
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edged forward. She sheathed her dagger and held the ring on either side, with both hands.
The other growled.
“What are you doing?” Cynda shifted her weight again, looking all the more ready to whack the creature’s head right off its shoulders.
Merilee stood still as a Greek carving. “Ri, don’t give it the ring. Are you nuts?”
Riana shook her head once to silence them. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it would jump to her throat and choke her. If she was right, she would diffuse the situation. If she was wrong, the thing—Creed—would die—or it would eat her triad whole.
“Spread your fingers,” she ordered.
The other grunted and spread five golden shafts of light.
“Riana…” Cynda sounded genuinely uncertain.
Riana kept her gaze squarely on the creature. “Be still,” she told it. “Don’t move until I give you permission.”
The other gave off a wave of disgust and frustration, but it didn’t so much as twitch.
Riana lunged forward and jammed the signet back on the thing’s right ring finger, where Creed had worn it.
As Riana jumped back, Merilee sucked in a breath and muttered, “Oh, Goddess.”
Cynda came around the table slowly, sword raised, until she stood beside Riana. Merilee moved around the other side of the table. She had lowered the bow, but her arrow was still at the ready.
Riana knew what they were thinking.
If we’re about to die, let us die together.
She put one hand on Cynda’s shoulder and the other on Merilee’s arm and watched as the other began to shift.
Tall. Short. Wide. Thin. Manlike. Godlike. Huge, then tiny, huddled on the surface of the table like a child. A buzzing sound rasped against Riana’s ears. She felt the vibration in her teeth, like the hum of powerful electric wires.
“Please,” she whispered, even though she knew she had given up her command power with the ring. “Come on, Creed. Please.”
The other stood and took on its more definite man-shape. Apollo again, only more normal in height, translucent and not quite real.
As Riana watched, the golden light began to fade. Bones showed through the light, like a radiographic image. Muscles attached to the bones. Skin formed and joined. More human. Then totally human. Well defined and handsome, with normal man-parts. The scar on Creed’s left arm and his silky black hair came last.
The second he seemed completely solid, Creed fell to his knees on the table and bent forward, arms folded, left hand clasped around his right, covering the signet ring.
He seemed too weak to stay alive.
Riana ran forward and climbed onto the table, heedless of the dwindling fire and scattered earth that once formed the grounding circle. As if from a great distance, she heard Cynda and Merilee warning her to be careful, urging her to stay back.
Were they insane? Couldn’t they see Creed couldn’t even lift his own head, much less hurt her?
She knelt beside him on the table and touched his shoulder. Her palm rested against that thick, straight scar. He smelled like himself again, his human self. The cedar-mandarin scent comforted her even though his skin was clammy. He started to shake as if he was freezing to death.
“Get him a blanket,” she called to Merilee, who was still standing with her bow and arrow in hand. Cynda gazed at Riana but didn’t lower her sword.
“Put down your weapons and get him a blanket!” Riana turned back to Creed. “I think he’s going into shock.”
What have we done?
She stroked his arm, like that might keep him from changing or vanishing or dying right there in front of her. She wanted—needed—to apologize, but when she opened her mouth, she asked the same question they had started with, what seemed like a dozen years ago.
“What are you?”
Creed looked up at her, and the dark, haunted depths of his eyes tore at her heart. His quiet, agonized answer tore at her even more.
“I don’t know, Riana. God. I don’t even know.”
6
Did you
The other growled.
“What are you doing?” Cynda shifted her weight again, looking all the more ready to whack the creature’s head right off its shoulders.
Merilee stood still as a Greek carving. “Ri, don’t give it the ring. Are you nuts?”
Riana shook her head once to silence them. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it would jump to her throat and choke her. If she was right, she would diffuse the situation. If she was wrong, the thing—Creed—would die—or it would eat her triad whole.
“Spread your fingers,” she ordered.
The other grunted and spread five golden shafts of light.
“Riana…” Cynda sounded genuinely uncertain.
Riana kept her gaze squarely on the creature. “Be still,” she told it. “Don’t move until I give you permission.”
The other gave off a wave of disgust and frustration, but it didn’t so much as twitch.
Riana lunged forward and jammed the signet back on the thing’s right ring finger, where Creed had worn it.
As Riana jumped back, Merilee sucked in a breath and muttered, “Oh, Goddess.”
Cynda came around the table slowly, sword raised, until she stood beside Riana. Merilee moved around the other side of the table. She had lowered the bow, but her arrow was still at the ready.
Riana knew what they were thinking.
If we’re about to die, let us die together.
She put one hand on Cynda’s shoulder and the other on Merilee’s arm and watched as the other began to shift.
Tall. Short. Wide. Thin. Manlike. Godlike. Huge, then tiny, huddled on the surface of the table like a child. A buzzing sound rasped against Riana’s ears. She felt the vibration in her teeth, like the hum of powerful electric wires.
“Please,” she whispered, even though she knew she had given up her command power with the ring. “Come on, Creed. Please.”
The other stood and took on its more definite man-shape. Apollo again, only more normal in height, translucent and not quite real.
As Riana watched, the golden light began to fade. Bones showed through the light, like a radiographic image. Muscles attached to the bones. Skin formed and joined. More human. Then totally human. Well defined and handsome, with normal man-parts. The scar on Creed’s left arm and his silky black hair came last.
The second he seemed completely solid, Creed fell to his knees on the table and bent forward, arms folded, left hand clasped around his right, covering the signet ring.
He seemed too weak to stay alive.
Riana ran forward and climbed onto the table, heedless of the dwindling fire and scattered earth that once formed the grounding circle. As if from a great distance, she heard Cynda and Merilee warning her to be careful, urging her to stay back.
Were they insane? Couldn’t they see Creed couldn’t even lift his own head, much less hurt her?
She knelt beside him on the table and touched his shoulder. Her palm rested against that thick, straight scar. He smelled like himself again, his human self. The cedar-mandarin scent comforted her even though his skin was clammy. He started to shake as if he was freezing to death.
“Get him a blanket,” she called to Merilee, who was still standing with her bow and arrow in hand. Cynda gazed at Riana but didn’t lower her sword.
“Put down your weapons and get him a blanket!” Riana turned back to Creed. “I think he’s going into shock.”
What have we done?
She stroked his arm, like that might keep him from changing or vanishing or dying right there in front of her. She wanted—needed—to apologize, but when she opened her mouth, she asked the same question they had started with, what seemed like a dozen years ago.
“What are you?”
Creed looked up at her, and the dark, haunted depths of his eyes tore at her heart. His quiet, agonized answer tore at her even more.
“I don’t know, Riana. God. I don’t even know.”
6
Did you
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