Onyx Eclipse Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Onyx Eclipse

  By

  Angel Lawson

  Bunny

  Moonlight peeks through the arched windows, casting my studio in a dark shadow. The light is different here. The lack of electricity and the ever-present candles, torches, and fires give off a yellowish glow. The difference makes for a challenge when mixing the paint, because the process must be exact. The image on one side must match the other, regardless of lighting, toxins, or weather.

  Closing my eyes, I bring to mind the scene that I want to paint, the one that will bring the two worlds together. I may as well paint lightning, an earthquake or hurricane. The result will be the same.

  Over the past few weeks, the cold of the castle has settled in my bones. I wonder if that’s part of the Goddess’ magic, leeching the warmth from us slowly, methodically. Surely she feeds—Morgan does—Anita, too. I know Anita drank from Morgan’s lips, taking the virus from her to spread across the city, stealing power from every victim. The true Goddess of War asks for nothing but blood and despair.

  Maybe that’s why it’s so cold.

  She’s sucked the place dry.

  I pass the shattered remains of the mirror, ignoring the reflective shards of glass. I can’t look at myself now. I’m not sure if I ever will again. I am the betrayer of my mate, of my Guards and brothers. Even if I had my reasons, none will ever justify me to their eyes.

  Or even my own.

  Opening the container I brought from Tran, I sprinkle in a small amount of the powder, mixing it in with the indigo. If Dylan had stopped me…I didn’t know what to think would be the result if I hadn’t returned. I heard the blade connect with the canvas. He damaged the painting. A similar cut is slashed through the painting near the fireplace. It’s useless now. I’ll toss it in the fire.

  I exhale and stare at the fresh white board before me and dip my brush in the paint. The process soothes me. It always has, but tonight the dungeons are full and the Goddess cleverly placed my studio right above them. Casteel, the brutish head guard handpicked by the Morrigan, normally stalks the hallways. Not now. She’s finally given him playthings, and I easily hear the screams of my brothers echoing off the flat walls.

  Do I feel the guilt of my transgressions? Yes, immensely, but it’s chased by the frozen reach of my mistress across the barren castle floors.

  I made a choice. The call no one else was willing to make. With another breath to steady my hand, I start on the canvas mounted on the easel before me.

  The war isn’t over. It’s only just beginning.

  Chapter 1

  Morgan

  There’s little doubt in my mind that they’re dead.

  That’s the thought that haunts my mind each and every day. The idea--no, the image of them alone with that malicious, spiteful, bitch worms its way into my heart, and I can’t let it go.

  Why would she keep them alive? Every breath they take is a danger to her. Every day that passes, a threat. That’s what I tell myself, refusing to believe my Guardians--who are strong, ferocious warriors, created by the hands of powerful, ancient gods--would not have returned by now if they were still alive.

  They have to be dead.

  I cross the massive room and pass the stacks of newspapers on the table without looking down. I know the headlines.

  Strange Sickness Baffles Scientists

  Virus Overwhelms Local Hospitals

  The Next Plague?

  Surrounding the newspapers are books, dozens of books, all open, with smudged, worn paper. Dylan reads them over and over, desperately looking for the one thing that can open the gate to the Otherside from our realm.

  I intended to do two things.

  One, to bring the bodies back.

  Two, to kill the Morrigan.

  At least, that’s my plan.

  I push back the curtain surrounding Dylan’s bed. The fabric creates a dark cave inside the expansive attic studio. He’s asleep, a rarity in the weeks since Bunny betrayed us. The bed is massive, a king-sized sleigh bed made of the darkest wood. I stare down at the hard planes of his bare chest, my eyes lingering over his abs and the sharp cut V under his navel. His shorts cling to his hips. I zero in on the purple blemish at the base of his neck, the one I gave him two days ago, finally fading. I should do it again. Mark him. Make it known that no one is taking this one from me, and if they try, blood will be shed.

  I’m not losing another one.

  He rolls to his side, muscles tense even in his sleep. His jaw is locked, resulting in tight cords down his neck. Neither of us can relax, caught in an emotional hell of worry and rage. When the Morrigan took my guardians, my mates, she stole not only a chunk of my soul but the bright flame of my power. When Bunny betrayed me, he removed any chance of us fighting back. I must have all five of my mates to complete the circle of power. Something he knew and therefore distanced himself from me so we didn’t physically bond.

  Bunny.

  I still can’t wrap my head around his betrayal. For what purpose? Did he truly feel neglected? Had I pushed him aside?

  Despite his actions, his absence leaves a cold hole in my frayed heart. I’d meant it when I claimed him as a mate. I didn’t realize he was faking it all for a way to increase the Morrgian’s control of the Darkness and the fall of our world.

  I swallow back the rage and look down at Dylan, my only guardian. My only conduit. I needed five. I had four, one is lost and now only one remains. I am thankful for his strength, for his unrelenting service to my needs; his commitment to stoking the flames. My powers are nothing but a flicker in the growing Darkness.

  I drop the curtain and step in the darkness of Dylan’s sleeping chamber. I pull my shirt over my head and slip my pants over my hips. His arm is around me before I’ve hit the soft mattress. I steal his breath. He gives me his body.

  Together, we survive.

  *

  The stairway that leads to the dungeons beneath the garage is dark, musty, and cold. Hildi stands at the entrance. Our only prisoner occupies the center cell. There’s nothing in Anita’s tiny alcove but a basic cot, a tray from her dinner, and a functional sink and toilet.

  “How is she?” I wrinkle my nose at her scent. Anita needs a shower, but that’s a privilege she hasn’t earned.

  “The same. Silent one minute, crying the next,” the Valkyrie says. “In the end, she gives me nothing.”

  At the moment, the woman sits with her back against the stone wall and stares into space, her face emotionless.

  “I can’t thank you enough for this,” I say. Somehow Hildi got caught up in our battle against the Morrigan. She helped capture Anita the day Bunny betrayed us and my Guardians went missing. Since then, she’s taken over the role of watching Anita down in the dungeons.

  “My Goddess does not approve of the Morrig
an’s ways. She’s pushing her will and destruction on all of us. I’m at your service until this is resolved.”

  I smile. “Thank you. We’re running short on people we can trust.”

  “Your home is comfortable. Your servants, Davis and Sue, have been very accommodating. It’s not an inconvenience.”

  I take a side glance at Anita, uncomfortable speaking freely near her. She seems completely oblivious. “Are you sure you don’t have family you need to attend to?”

  “My partner is aware of my obligations.”

  “Make sure he’s aware of the dangers out there—with the virus. No one is safe.”

  A smile ghosts over Hildi’s lips. “She is aware. I’ve told her to take precautions.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, sorry, I shouldn’t have presumed.”

  “It’s okay. We did originally meet over my jealousy of your relationship with the Raven Guard.” She smiles wider. “I’m not picky with the gender of my lovers, just that they are worthy of sharing my bed.”

  You learn something new every day, I think to myself, leaving Hildi and walking down the narrow hallway. I keep clear of Anita’s reach. I’m not sure what her actual powers entail, but I do know she has been in and out of the portals, traveling between realms. I need to know how to open a gate that will take me to the Morrigan’s castle in the Otherside. As much as I’d like to see Anita dead, keeping her alive seems like our best chance.

  “Good morning.” I approach her cell. Anita is a beautiful woman, one used to extreme wealth and luxury. Or rather, she was. I can see a glimmer of her beauty beneath the stringy, dirty hair and her blank, soulless eyes. Her nails are chipped. Her skin is ashy and dry. Her treatment may be uncivilized, but what is owed to a woman whose intent is to help destroy the world?

  She doesn’t reply, so I bang on the bars of her cell. “Hey, girl, wake up.”

  I’d been born as a human vessel for the Morrigan’s earthly rise. Anita and her brother had the misfortune to be born as sacrifices to the Morrigan’s dark plans. Xavier was already dead—the first victim of the new plague. Anita became a carrier, spreading the virus throughout the city. Dylan is sure there is only one way to stop the virus from becoming the apocalypse: opening the gate and killing the Morrigan. But there have been other plagues brought on by the Morrigan in the past, other cures. I’m not willing to give up on any option.

  The main problem is we do not have the abilities or skills to get the gate open, much less find one. The Raven Guard spent their lives keeping the gate shut, and although Dylan had crossed back and forth, it was in his shifter form, an ability he lost when we mated.

  My patience has run thin and I drop down to a squatting position to make eye contact. Her gaze never changes but I start talking anyway, like I have every other day for the past two weeks. “Tell me why Bunny betrayed me.”

  Blank stare.

  “Tell me what she did with my Guardians.”

  Nothing.

  “Tell me your role in all of this.”

  Zero.

  Rage consumes me. I know it’s irrational. She’s never going to tell me what I want, but I have no one else to ask. Nowhere to turn. I pull the key to the lock out of my pocket and shove it in the keyhole.

  “Morgan,” Hildi warns.

  I fling open the door and step inside, yanking Anita’s frail, limp body off the floor. I may not be at my strongest but I’m far more powerful than she is at the moment. When she’s on her feet I raise my hand and slap her across the face. Nothing changes. Not even in the depths of her eyes.

  “I know you’re in there, fool, and you will help me. You’ll stop this insanity and you will help me bring my guardians home, dead or alive.”

  The last sentence sparks something and her eyes narrow. There’s a red mark on her cheek and her mouth splits into a deranged grin.

  “What?” I ask, desperate for anything.

  “You think she killed them?”

  Grief wracks through me but I pull on it and use it to feed my rage. “I’m not afraid of the truth.”

  Again, she cackles, and I tighten my hands around her throat. She tugs at my wrists. “The Morrigan is the goddess of war—not death like your little friend over there.” She nods at Hildi. “She loves the destruction. The pain. She wants a fight. She wants the biggest fallout this realm has ever seen, and then she’ll preside over it for eternity.”

  “Blah, blah, blah,” I mutter, refusing to listen to her nonsense. “If she wants a fight, she’ll get one. But she’ll have to show herself to make it happen.”

  I release her throat and push her back on the thin mattress of her cot. I leave and lock the door back with a loud, echoing click. Anita stares at me with the same maniacal expression as before.

  “What?” I ask again.

  “Ignore her,” Hildi says. “She’s gone mad.”

  Anita begins to laugh. First softly and then gaining in momentum. I walk away, unwilling to be an audience to her show. I need leverage to get Anita to talk to me. I need to find what she cares about. What she wants from all of this.

  Hildi and I leave her alone in the dungeon, slamming the outer door and locking it with the enchanted keys. Hildi sets wards by drawing runes across the door.

  “What do you think that was all about?” I ask as we walk up the stairs.

  “I think she’s crazy and probably always has been. That’s what the Darkness does to people.” She pauses at the top of the stairs. “What will you do with her?”

  “I’m not letting her out until I know what the Morrigan needs her for. After that, you’re welcome to take her back to your Goddess and drag her to the gates of hell.”

  Chapter 2

  Dylan

  The door needs a heave to get open, the warped wood sticks at the top. I use my shoulder to knock it loose and when the door finally opens, it slams into the wall, louder than I’d intended.

  I brace myself for the response. I don’t know what or even why. Everything in the house feels quiet now. There’s no music from Clinton’s second floor suite. No echo of laughter following Sam. I don’t hear Damien’s heavy boots on the stairs, or the roar of his motorcycle in the alley out back.

  There sure as hell is no sign of Bunny roaming the halls at all hours of the night or stuffing his face with sweets in the kitchen.

  Bunny. Damn, it still stings, like the wound of a rusty blade running through the gut. How could he? What is he thinking? We all have our weak moments; our pride or ego, our doubts and fears. But this? This was something much more and it hurt to even think of the consequences of it all. For him. For Morgan, and most of all, the world.

  As suspected, no one comes from the sound of me entering the room. Even Sue and Davis have quieted—heartbroken over the situation. Food preparation is nothing but a whisper in the downstairs kitchen. Our mandatory dinner has stopped; what’s the point with just me and Morgan? We’re together constantly anyway. Working, sleeping, mating.

  Even our lovemaking has turned quiet. Nothing but shifting sheets and the sound of our bodies moving together. Even if we do derive pleasure from our bonding, it seems wrong to celebrate. It seems a betrayal to my fallen brothers.

  I enter Bunny’s room and take a deep breath. The room smells a little musty—the stale chemical of his paints—closed since the day of his traitorous actions. I’ve had my nose stuck in books or obsessing over the news. Morgan goes to the dungeons to interrogate Anita. I’ve been unable to even walk down the hall and step foot in the place where I allowed Bunny’s escape.

  But now I’m at a loss. My books are useless against whatever magic Bunny conjured to pass between realms and shut us out. So now I’m here, hoping to find something that will help us.

  I stop before the torn canvas—the one Bunny used as a portal for escape. I ripped it—ruined it—in my haste to stop him. It may have been our only way to the Otherside. For all I know, it may have been their only way back.

  The Raven Guard.

  I’ve no do
ubt they’re still alive. Suffering, but alive.

  Morgan thinks they’re dead and I’ve allowed that for the time being. She hasn’t said the words, but I see it in the dark shadows of her eyes, and in the tears that slip down her cheeks when she thinks I don’t notice. It’s better that she thinks they’re gone. The alternative is worse. Being a prisoner at the hands of the Goddess of War is like standing in the fiery pits of hell. If she realized…if she understood…

  I can barely think of it myself and push back the weight of guilt of knowing they’re bearing it without me at their side.

  Which is why I finally caved and came back to Bunny’s studio. Why I’m searching, day after day, for a fucking break—just the smallest clue. We can’t give up on the others. They’re alive, at least physically, and it’s my obligation to bring them back.

  *

  I’ve completely lost track of time when I hear her footsteps on the stairs. I’ve been staring at painting after painting, castle after castle, trying to see something in the imagery for what feels like hours, when Morgan enters the room. She has smudges of dark under her eyes, either from lack of sleep or losing her power. The sight guts me. Another failure to add to the others.

  “Hey,” she says, leaning against the door. Her arms cross over her chest and she watches me.

  “How’s the prisoner today?” I ask.

  “Fucking deranged.”

  “So like yesterday?”

  “Maybe a little worse. Now she’s speaking in riddles or something.” She sighs and walks over to where I’m standing. “What’s going on in here?”

  “Just trying to see if Bunny left any sort of clue on how he got the portal open.” I pretend saying his name isn’t a punch to my insides, and gesture to his worktable. “He took a bunch of stuff the day he left. Probably whatever I would need to figure out how to get the gate open myself.”

  Morgan steps closer and slips her delicate hand in mine. Just the sensation of her skin against mine sends a shock of energy up my spine. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “We’re running out of time. Did you watch the news today?” I ask. She shakes her head. “People are getting sick outside of New York now, it’s spreading.”