Blood on the Blade

By A.M. Yates

It wasn’t enough that Aes’s evil sorcerer of a brother imprisoned him in Nebraska for the last hundred years. No. He had to curse Aes too, magically binding him to a girl who wants to kill him.

Now all Aes wants is to get away from magic for good.

First though, he has to break the curse. That’s the only reason he’s traveling to Horizon Island, Maine. Not to close the breach between worlds. Not to save the mages there who are slowly dying from magical poison. Not to battle shape-shifting monsters. And definitely not to be a hero.

But when magic threatens to overtake the mortal world, will Aes join the fight, even if it means giving up his dreams of freeing himself from magic for good?

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.M. Yates
• Release date: Oct 2, 2018
• ISBN: 9781943746170

A.M. Yates

a.m. yates collects pieces of souls. She meets with dead Russian writers in bamboo forests to discuss the color of the sunlight in the water. She seeks exceptions and similarities over generalities and differences. She feeds almost every stray the muse drops at her door and adopts out only the most demanding few. She suffers from two terrible addictions, both involving words. She has a life story, but it isn’t finished yet.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Aes

Aes woke to the chafe of ropes around his wrists. His arms were pinioned to his sides. He couldn’t move. His right arm, which he was lying upon, was asleep. Against his back there was a familiar warmth.

Trea.

They were tied back-to-back on the saggy motel mattress.

Aes’s blood rose to an abrupt boil. His every muscle coiled painfully tight. And before he’d had a chance to check the time, he was pulling against the restraints, consumed by the desperate need to free his hands.

Trea was so close.

Want. Need.

If he could just roll over…

But Zale had him bound securely. Aes’s hands were hitched to a spare tire from the van. It lay on the floor by the bed. A life preserver. An anchor. Aes couldn’t tell which, and he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was breaking free so he could strip Trea naked and take her. But no matter how much he twisted his hands against the rope, it didn’t give.

Trea also had her own rope and tire. To keep her from wrapping her hands around his throat and strangling him. To keep the curse from destroying them.

Damn, man, Zale grumbled from the neighboring bed.

Through the feeble light seeping beneath the curtains and the haze of lust possessing Aes, he could barely make out the disgruntled expression on his best friend’s chiseled face.

Zale propped up onto his side, snagging his phone off the nightstand. Glancing at the screen, he dropped onto his back again with a huff. Can’t you keep it in your pants until dawn?

If Aes had been able to speak through his ragged breaths, he would’ve told Zale to suck it. It wasn’t like he wanted to be cursed. Their lives were complicated enough, having just freed themselves from a magical prison-town that had held them in a time loop for the last century. And their reward for breaking out? This curse. His uncontrollable lust for Trea. Her unwavering desire to murder him.

To add to their torment, the only way either of them could sleep was if they were touching. Hence, the ropes and the oh-so-refreshing aroma of axle grease and tire rubber first thing in the morning. They’d been free from Horizon Banks for five days, but Aes was beginning to wonder if maybe the magical prison hadn’t been so bad. Sure, he’d been stuck in a cycle of living until the age of seventeen, only to be murdered and then reborn and murdered again. But at least he’d been able to sleep on his back. Sleeping on his side made his arm numb.

But really, the only thing he knew for sure was that he hated magic. He hated what it was doing to him. And once this curse was broken, he would find himself the most non-magical place in the world and live a long, boring life free of it.

I’m awake, Trea murmured.

The sound of her husky voice flooded him with an ache so intense he may have temporarily blacked out. By the time he was able to focus again, Zale was up and tugging on his T-shirt.

He crouched before Aes, eyes dark and hard as ebony. You first, lover boy. He worked to free the rope that held Aes and Trea together. I’m not in the mood to drop you before breakfast, but I will if I have to.

Now that Zale had his memories back—of his life in the parallel world called Horizon—he had also reacquired his impressive fighting skills. He’d demonstrated them the day before when Aes and Trea had fallen asleep in the back of Kari’s car. The moment Aes had awoken, he’d set about earning his degree in sexual predation by trying to pin Trea down and tear off her clothes. She’d kneed him in the groin, flipped him over, and throttled him. Luckily, Zale and Kari had turned up before anything deadly occurred. But even after Trea had been pulled off of him, Aes had lunged for her. Zale had laid Aes out with a single, well-aimed left hook. When Aes had regained consciousness, he had a black eye and a splitting headache.

For which he was grateful.

Damn this curse. Damn his brother. Damn sorcerers and magic the worlds over.

Sit up, Zale ordered when the knot was loose.

Together, both with spines rigid as steel poles, Aes and Trea sat up. Zale unwound the rope from around them. The moment it uncinched, Zale seized Aes’s bicep, which was tingling painfully as the blood flow returned, and hauled him to his feet.

Don’t move, he barked at Trea’s back.

Lifting the tire, Zale gave Aes a shove toward the door.

Aes’s feet dragged, but he didn’t resist. Somewhere beneath the suffocating heat of the curse, he was thanking Zale for getting him out of there.

When they reached the door though, his hands refused to move. He glanced back. Trea’s head snapped around, her glare venomous. But he only registered her malice peripherally. He was preoccupied with the smooth curve of her coppery cheek, the deep flush of her lips, the way the dark waves of her hair kissed her neck.

This has to end, Zale muttered. He reached around Aes and yanked the door open, letting the edge of it hit Aes in the chest. The pain was enough—barely—to distract him from Trea. Zale snagged his arm and flung him out onto the sidewalk. The door slammed shut behind them, and finally, the burning tide ebbed.

Not that Trea was out of his mind. No. Thanks to Kobalt’s curse, the need for her was ever-present, always whispering in his ear. But the distance granted him just enough space to focus on other things.

Like the scenery.

Cool sea air crept up to greet them. Each distant crash of ocean waves brought a new pungent odor—cold mud, decaying seaweed, brine, and fish.

Zale shivered and dropped the tire on the sidewalk with a thump. In the parking lot, an older couple ceased loading the trunk of their sedan long enough to give Aes—wrists coiled in rope tied to the tire, his right eye swollen shut, several fiery red nail scratches evident on his forearms—a thorough once-over.

Granted a temporary reprieve from the worst of the curse’s effects, Aes lifted his hands and offered them a smile. Mornin’.

They exchanged a look and then hustled to their respective doors, dropping into their car. The woman was shaking her head and covering her eyes. The husband pushed his glasses back on his nose, looked them over again, and might have said, Well, if that’s what they’re into.

Their car whipped out of the parking lot and sped onto the adjacent coastal highway.

"This has to end," Zale grumbled again, untying Aes’s wrists.

Aes scanned the hazy vista of the quaint harbor town they’d crash-landed in late the night before.

On the other side of the parking lot, tucked into the misty shadows of a lichen-encrusted, wind-gnarled spruce—a raven. Aes stiffened, his hands fisting. The huge black beast of a bird had followed them from Nebraska. Bold and unblinking, it perched. Watching. Listening.

He didn’t know if the bird was tied to the curse, or simply a remnant of the prison-town. A reminder that he wasn’t free yet.

But he did know for sure that only when the curse was broken, only when there was no more magic, no more Trea, in his life… only then would he be free.

Chapter 2

Aes

Before Zale had finished untying his wrists, a tall blonde emerged from the room next door. She grinned, her cornflower-blue eyes sparkling. Good morning!

At last, the nylon rope slid away, and Aes let out a heavy breath, massaging the sensation back into his numb fingers.

Damn, girl. Zale tossed the rope down, rubbing his arms. Aren’t you cold?

She held out her arms, exposed by her tank top, and chuckled. You’re not serious.

Zale bounced up and down the way they had on chilly fall mornings before football practice. It’s like forty degrees.

She snorted. More like fifty.

In response, Zale let out an exaggerated, "Brrrrrrr."

I thought you flatlander Midwesterners were hearty, Kari said.

In the winter, Zale retorted. It’s August. August is supposed to be hot.

It was always hot in the Second Kingdom, Aes murmured, still staring down the raven.

This stopped Zale’s bouncing and doused Kari’s morning-person glow.

The Second Gatedom was where Zale had been born and raised, in the world of Horizon. In the five days they’d spent on the road, he and Zale hadn’t talked about what it was like, for either of them—losing the false lives they’d had in Nebraska and recovering the memories of the lives they’d had before, in the old world. But from the way Zale’s face drew taut, Aes suspected that his friend was dealing with it about as well as he was.

Not well.

There was no good way to deal with it. And Aes guessed it was probably worse for Zale. Back in Horizon, Zale had had family and friends, an entire community, that he’d cared deeply for. But even if they could somehow return to Horizon, all of those people would be long dead.

This didn’t bother Aes. He’d never particularly liked anyone in the old world, except Zale, which was why Zale had gotten the shaft and been sent here with Aes and Trea—or Sparrow, as she’d been called then. Back when she’d been the immortal Guardian of the Third Gate. Before Aes had fallen in love with her. Before his evil sorcerer of a brother had made her flesh and attempted to murder her so he could open the gate and gain more power for himself. Before… When Aes had been able to feel something besides rage and lust.

But those days were gone.

Zale and Kari tracked Aes’s gaze to the raven. The muscles of Kari’s arms flexed, bulging, the scars crisscrossing them strained.

I’ll get my bow, she said under her breath.

Why? So you can miss again and have some old lady call the cops on us like in Ohio? Zale asked.

Kari’s face fell to something between a glower and a pout. That bird just got lucky.

Zale snorted.

She thrust her fists down at her sides. I. Don’t. Miss.

His brow quirked. Ah… yeah, you do. You missed like twelve times.

The wind— she started.

A horselike bluster left Zale. The wind? Come on…

All those trucks on the road were displacing the air—

Zale hooted. Displacing the air? That is one weak-ass excuse—

A horn blared, rattling the drowsy morning air.

The raven lit from the tree, churning the mist with its oil-black wings before sailing off toward the hazy line of the ocean.

Kari checked her watch. That’s the first ferry leaving the dock.

At this hour? Zale shook his head and reached for the doorknob. I’d better untie our murderous friend—

Wait. Kari’s voice lowered. We need to talk about Booker.

As one, they turned toward Booker’s room. The heavy motel-room curtains remained drawn. Nothing stirred.

He can’t come to the Island, Kari stated.

Zale sighed. We’ve been over this—

He’s possessed by a Terror, she snapped.

He saved our butts back in Nebraska, Zale argued. Without him, we wouldn’t even be here.

He only did it because he wants to use Aes to get back to the old world! You can’t trust him.

Zale’s arms folded. Last I checked, you wanted to use Aes too. Something about needing his blood to save some magic rock?

Her face reddened. I’m trying to save the world. I don’t think that qualifies as ‘using’ anybody. Especially since we’ll all die if we don’t restore the Keeper’s Stone!

Yeah, about that—

Morning, Locke, Aes interrupted.

Behind Zale, a rangy young man had snuck silently as a shadow from his room. A dark shag of hair hung thickly over his brow, casting a somber cloud upon his hazel eyes, which whispered over each of them in turn. But whatever he was thinking didn’t show on his lean, angular face. It never did.

Booker’s staying here, Locke told them.

Kari blinked rapidly. He is?

He doesn’t want to cause any trouble and…

And what? Zale asked.

He’s tired, Locke finished. Busting you out of the magical Matrix wasn’t easy, you know?

Aes plucked at the copper wings hanging from the leather cord around his neck. He pressed them to his lower lip, running them back and forth.

Well. Kari rolled her shoulders back. All right, then.

I don’t know. Aes tucked the wings beneath his shirt collar again. I might feel better if Booker came with us.

Kari’s brow plunged. Why?

"Because I don’t know anybody on that island of yours. I don’t know what they want me to do or if I should trust them."

Her chest puffed, indignant. We’re Clan—

Yeah, Zale said darkly. "And from what I remember, the Clan didn’t have much respect for the Keepers. After the gates were first created, the original Clan splintered. Some vowed to uphold their duty to the gates; they became the Shields and Spears. Others retreated to the mountains to spend their time drinking and arguing. I guess those were your people."

Kari’s hand curled around the handle of the hunting knife strapped to her thigh. "If I were you, I’d take care what you say about my people. Unless you want to find yourself at the Blood Table."

Zale stuck out his chin, undeterred. And do you know what happened to the rest of the Clan?

Her eyes narrowed.

They became the Keepers of the Second Gate, Zale informed her. "My people. So don’t go getting sanctimonious about being ‘Clan’ or your duty to protect this world. Aes and I know about duty. We lived and died for it for a hundred years because we were trying to ‘save the world.’ Your ways aren’t the only ways. If Aes is doing this thing, then he’s doing it his way. If that means Booker comes along, then that’s what happens. Or maybe we leave you and your ‘Clan’ to handle your ‘duty’ in your own way."

A deadly gleam shone in Kari’s eyes.

Ah, guys, Locke drawled, bored. "Booker’s not coming. Because he does have a tiny shred of a Whisperer or a Terror or whatever you want to call it, in him. And it takes a lot out of him, channeling that much power through his frail mortal body. So let’s get on with it, ya? Booker talked to our Shield last night, and she’s getting impatient. I don’t know anything about the Keepers of the Second Gatedom or the Clan, but I’m pretty sure a pissed-off Shield could knock every one of you on your butts without breaking a sweat."

"Wasn’t it your Shields and Spears who failed to keep his—Kari’s finger jabbed at the door behind Locke and, presumably, Booker within—family from upholding their duty? Didn’t Booker’s family open their gate? So, not only is he a Terror, but his family is part of the reason we’re here in the first place. She crossed her arms and looked flatly at Aes. Want to explain to me again why you trust him more than me?"

Who said anything about trust? Aes retorted. The only person I trust is this guy right here. He slapped Zale on the shoulder.

Zale was unsmiling. Gee, lucky me.

But, Aes went on, "if I’m about to be stranded on a remote island with a bunch of badass Clan warriors who want to use my blood so they can perform some multiverse bridge repair, or whatever, then it may not be a bad idea to have a guy with terrifying power around to back me up. Seeing how it’s in his personal interest to keep me alive so he can use me for… whatever it is he wants from me."

I think you’re finally starting to make some sense, Zale said, nodding approvingly.

I still think you’re crazy to trust a Terror, Kari grumbled.

I don’t need to trust him, Aes said. I need to break this curse and be done with sorcerers and magic—for good. If your people can’t help me do that, then maybe Booker can. But lucky for you and the world, you get first crack at it. Help me and I’ll help you.

The high color of fury seeped from her face. I don’t know if the Council will agree to that. We don’t do this to get something in return. We do it because we must. Because we’re Clan.

Well, I’m not Clan, he said. I’m part of one of those dishonorable families who opened their gates. My brother ripped the pulsing hearts out of those things, the Terrors, and ate them. Then he used the power he gained from them to screw me over. So, are you going to find a way to help me, Miss Mighty Clan, or should Zale and I just hop in Booker’s van and head south?

She studied him. You’re kind of a jerk, you know that?

Zale laughed. You don’t know the half of it.

That’s me. The cursed jerk with trust issues, Aes said savagely. "I am not a hero, Kari. That’s your gig. I’m here for me, got it? Not duty or honor or any of that altruistic bullcrap."

Kari’s mouth screwed into a tight crumple, like she didn’t believe a word he was saying. But her heroic delusions were not his problem. He wasn’t going to pretend to be something he wasn’t. He was here for one reason—to break this curse. Nothing else mattered.

Taking her silence as grudging acceptance, Aes surveyed their motley, road-weary band.

So, he said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them, do we have a boat to catch or what?

Chapter 3

Aes

Bars of fluorescent lights glared pitilessly down on them. On the car deck, the enormous parking garage in the belly of the ferry, there was little to look at besides the patches of rust staining the steel hull. Rows of cars and