Page 6

CHAPTER 6

RAIN

MALPHAS

I t’s raining.

It’s raining in Sombra. Not the hazy, barely there mist of moisture that is enough to water the ash farmers’ fields before evaporating, but a constant fall that reminds me of my time on Earth.

Worse, as the rain pours, my child cries.

Alana doesn’t cry. She giggles and coos and, when she’s hungry, she makes a demanding sound for her mother’s breast, but she has never cried that I’ve seen. Not real tears such as the ones streaking down her cheeks as Shannon rubs her back, attempting to soothe our spawn even as she stares out the window.

To keep the Sombra heat out, the glass is closed. When Shannon and I first decided that we would stay in Nuit after Alana was born, the window was the first concession I made so that my home became ours. Like the window in the apartment that allowed us to look out over Jericho, she likes to peer out into Sombra.

She calls it being nosy. I’m not sure what that her nose has to do with anything since her human senses can’t scent anything through the glass, but if it makes Shannon happy to have a window in our front room and upstairs where Alana sleeps, I was happy to make one for her with my own two hands.

The glass opens. I created our window to be just like the one in New York, another slice of the human world that I gave to Shannon in Sombra. Because I don’t know how to get Alana to stop crying, I focus on the window instead.

Sliding it open just enough that I can reach outside, I let the rain land on my skin.

Sombra demons are heat. As scalding as the rain drops are, they sizzle and evaporate the instant they touch my flesh. But they burn, a sensation that I’ve never experienced before. From a young age, spawn know to stay away from the lava pits if they can’t control their shadows. I’ve never touched fire unless I’ve first faded to my second form?—

No. That’s not true. When my Shannon summed me to her human world, she’d known enough about demonkind to create a protective circle that trapped me. I could break through it, but doing so, I burned away some of my essence—and my hand. Then, before Shannon understood that Sombra demons are truly shadow demons, she tried to leave me. The gods don’t allow that until a bond is finalized, or it’s broken.

I burned then, too.

But it didn’t hurt. Not like the tiny droplets that sear my skin wherever they hit do. Almost instinctively, I let my shadows out. The next raindrop falls through the edge of them, finding my corporeal form inside.

That feels worse . Like an itch and a sting and an ache all at the same time.

I wince, and Shannon moves into me.

“Mal? What’s going on?”

She sounds so uncertain. It’s a tremor down our bond, and I want nothing more than to tell her that all will be well.

But it is raining, and Alana still cries.

“I must check with Apollyon,” is what I say instead.

The clan leader will know what to do. He can have Loki use his magic to send a message to Duke Haures if he doesn’t already know. The rain… is this it? The prophecy unfolding?

The gods help us all if it is.

I loop my arm around Shannon, my shadows surrounding my mate and my child for a moment before I drop a kiss to her hair. Then, releasing her while staying in my mist, I zip through one of the holes built into the ceiling. Through the first floor, then the second, I go until I land in the middle of the village square, my shadowy feet managing to sink into the damp ash.

The ash in Sombra has never been so wet before.

The volcanic surface of our world reacts to the rain. It spits and sizzles, the same way it did when it touched my skin, while the air blooms with a foul stink.

It’s empty. The village square, that is. Though, as a mere clan artist, my house has always been more basic than those belonging to the clan leader, the hunters, the farmers, and the weavers, I built it from the ash up with my future mate in mind. It’s humble, yet sturdy, and it has the best view of all of Nuit.

From our porch, we can see the expanse of the entire village before the boundaries fade to shadows. It’s another reason why I loved the idea of adding the window. That way we can see the village from the comfort of our home.

Nuit is one of the smaller villages in Sombra, but we are a close clan because of it. We trade and we help each other; though I had expected their wariness when it came to Alana’s differences, it hurt me all the same because the demons in our village were the only kin I had after my mother and father moved on themselves centuries ago.

It is always busy, even when the moons rise and the shadows darken. The ash farmers tending to their crops. The hunters going out for nocturnal prey. Bonded mates enjoying the lava pools like my Shannon and I did… but not this eve.

I see no one. I hear no one. Though lights flicker through some of the smaller windows I spy through the rain, all of the villagers are hunkered down in their homes.

No one else is here to watch the rain fall. Do they even know the skies have opened up? That the prophecy might be unfolding before my very eyes?

Do they?—

Behind me, I hear a door open. Glancing over my shoulder, I turn in time to notice that it’s from my house. With a hint of defiance, my mate steps out onto the porch.

“Woof,” Shannon says, cradling Alana to her chest with one hand. With the other, she shoves her fingers under her nose. “It usually stinks like rotten eggs out here, and I thought I got used to it, but add the rain to it and… shit, that’s nasty.”

“Shannon, my flower. I thought you were going to stay inside.”

She snorts. I’d like to think it’s because of the stench, but I know my mate better than that.

Especially when she says, “Don’t know why you’d think that, big guy. Just because I can’t go poof and fly outside, my fingers work just fine when it comes to opening the door.” Shannon moves toward the edge of the porch. “Legs work, too.”

“I wanted you to stay inside where it’s safe,” I try to tell her. “This rain isn’t like Earth rain.”

Still clutching Alana tightly, my mate ignores me as she holds out her free hand, testing the rain.

My heart jumps into my throat. “Shannon?—”

“I don’t get the big deal. It’s warm, but it’s not acid rain, Mal. Besides, I’m not the Wicked Witch of the West. I won’t melt.”

I gasp. “Is that even possible?”

“In Oz, maybe.”

Oz? That’s a relief. I thought that she meant Earth, and though I lived with her for years in her human realm, I never once worried that my mate would disintegrate if she got caught out in the rain.

Still… “I don’t want it to cause you any pain.”

Even standing here in my shadows, it is an annoyance every time one of the droplets hits me.

Shannon scoffs. “It’s rain. I’ll be…” Her expression twists back into one of unease. “Wait— does it hurt you ?” I don’t even get the chance to answer before she scrabbles backward, hurrying so that she’s standing under the ash-awning on the porch. Normally, it protects anyone near the house, but for the first time in my existence, it blocks out the falling rain. “Alana is half-demon. What if it hurts her ?”

What if she is the reason it rains?

I immediately regret my fleeting suspicion. The looming prophecy has weighed down on me. It’s led to a fight with my beloved mate, and my daughter’s first tears. But whether or not it is because of the prophecy… it doesn’t matter. I’m the only one to blame for upsetting both Shannon and Alana.

“I won’t let anything hurt her,” I vow.

Shannon calms, though she stays on the porch. “I know, baby. I know. But I don’t want anything to hurt you, either. Come over here. You want to talk to Apollyon? Either he comes here or you can wait. But, please, don’t walk away from us, Malphas.”

I would never .

I surge forward, slipping on the slick ash with my first step. In my solid form, I can control my body better. In my shadows, I could float—but it doesn’t even occur to me. I just want to get to my family, and running toward them is instinctive.

I don’t fall. Recovering my balance, I bound up the stairs. Once there, I surround them again.

“Never,” I say aloud, cementing my vow. “You never have to fear me leaving your side, my mate.”

Shannon leans into my embrace. “Thanks, baby. I just… it’s been rough.”

And I didn’t make it any easier by hiding the truth behind why some of the villagers would treat her as though she didn’t belong. It’s no wonder she began to think it had everything to do with her being a human. On Earth, so many people hate others for trivial differences. The color of their skin. Who they love. Whether they are male or female or neither.

Sombra demons welcome all. My whole existence, mortal females were legendary. I am the envy of many of my fellow Sombrans because the gods granted me Shannon as my mate. She is my mate; that makes her a Sombran, too, now. Just like when a Sombra demon finds his mate in a Soleil demoness, or one from Brille Rouge. Without finding our forevers in a different world, we might always be lonely.

So, no… it’s not because of who Alana’s mother is.

It’s how similar my child is to the fearsome Duke Haures—born in a shadow realm, with Sombran blood and the glow in her eyes, but no shadows at all—that has more than a few villagers in Nuit treating her poorly enough that it upset my Shannon. And what made it worse? Is that I suspected that would be my poor spawn’s fate from the moment she was born… and I never told Shannon.

I wanted to shield her. To protect her.

Instead I failed her.

Not again.

Never again.

“I am here. I will always be wherever you are.”

It may not be the mate’s promise, but it is my vow to my one true mate, and I mean every word of it.

Luckily, she does not doubt me. “I know, and— oh. Oh, Mal, thank fucking God.” Shannon clicks her tongue, rubbing the back of Alana’s head as relief washes over her. “She stopped crying. Oh, good, good girl. Mommy’s got you.”

As glad as I am to hear that she’s succeeded in soothing our spawn, something pulls my attention out to the village square. I blink, then I stare.

The rain has finally stopped, too.