Stone Cold Lover Read Free Page A

Fil thought hazily as the world went a little bit fuzzy, I wonder if they’ll let me have paints and canvas in the psych ward?

 
    Chapter Two
    Danger!
    His senses screamed a moment before the sleep left him, and in that instant he battled fiercely against the immobilizing chains of the magic that forced his slumber.
    The helplessness tormented him and confused him. This was not the way he woke. He recalled other stirrings, remembered the gray haze of sleep, followed by the instant rush of awareness, the way he sprang into motion almost before his vision cleared. That was the way a Guardian awoke, with an explosion of power and might. This slow and agonizing slog toward awareness would kill him; and with his death the Darkness would grow even stronger.
    His hearing came back first, what seemed like an eternity before the fog that clouded his vision began to dissipate. He could make out the sound of a male voice, thick with glee and evil, even while the words eluded him. He didn’t need to understand to recognize the Darkness in them. It poured from the male like the thick stench of sulfur, fetid and cloying, the mark of a dedicated servant. But he could smell nothing darker, nothing like the charred rot of the truly demonic.
    If none of the Seven had appeared to pose a threat to humanity, why had he awoke? The nocturnis, those who served the Darkness, could be dealt with by the Guild; they didn’t require a Guardian to intervene. Something was not right here.
    Awareness began to rush back. He began to see shadows through his hazy vision, and his hearing returned to full acuity. Now he could detect the faint stirring of breath and cloth somewhere very close to him, on the ground below his feet. He drew a breath and smelled something fresh and sweet, entirely at odds with the stench of evil that surrounded the male voice.
    Spar frowned—for he was called Spar, he remembered now, fourth among his brothers—and inhaled again. It was female, he realized, female and human, and when the bite of fear came to him, he knew it was in danger.
    “Naughty, naughty, stubborn little mousy.” The evil one spoke, his voice screeching with a madness that drove Spar to fury. “If I can’t charm you out, I suppose I’ll have to harm you out. Ha!”
    At once movement flashed from two directions, and Spar’s vision cleared in time to see a bolt of defiled magic blast from the hands of the nocturnis. It grazed the edge of his pedestal and impacted the wall behind with a quaking boom. At the same time, a blur of motion, all dark clothing and moon-bright hair, dove away from the very point of impact and tumbled hard into the adjacent wall.
    Without thought, Spar roared his battle cry and sprang off his perch into the air. His wings spread, muscles stretching for the first time in centuries, and he could feel their tips brushing the walls of the confined space. Spear in hand, he hovered just below the ceiling and saw the wave of terror and hatred flow across the nocturnis ’s features.
    Good. The man should tremble and cower in the face of a Guardian’s rage. A single human, no matter how much power he drew from the Darkness, was no match for one of the warrior protectors in the midst of his battle frenzy.
    The nocturnis might be outmatched, but Spar still expected him to put up a fight. He almost looked forward to dodging a few futile spells cast in his direction, but instead of going on the defensive, the corrupt human screeched something in the foul tongue of Dark magic and flung a hand out in the direction of the dazed female.
    Spar bellowed in outrage, the sound nearly drowning out the shocked cry of the female human. He saw how she raised a hand to protect herself, but the nocturnis ’s spell would not be denied. It blasted into her palm with a burst of muddy-red energy that made the woman’s pale skin glow as if lit from within. Spar could see muscles and veins and the tiniest, most delicate bones he could ever have imagined for a