Darken the Stars Read online

  Also by Amy A. Bartol

  The Kricket Series

  Under Different Stars

  Sea of Stars

  The Premonition Series

  Inescapable: Volume 1

  Intuition: Volume 2

  Indebted: Volume 3

  Incendiary: Volume 4

  Iniquity: Volume 5

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2015 Amy A. Bartol

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by 47North, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and 47North are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781503947429

  ISBN-10: 1503947424

  Cover design by Mae I Design

  For Tommy, Max, and Jack: for when things became dark

  Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1 PULLED UNDER

  CHAPTER 2 LISTEN TO YOU BREATHING

  CHAPTER 3 HOLLOW WELL

  CHAPTER 4 NO SHADE IN THE SHADOWS

  CHAPTER 5 DAWN GOLDEN

  CHAPTER 6 HAUNTING IDLE

  CHAPTER 7 THE MARK IS MADE

  CHAPTER 8 FUTURE TRIP AND VIKING SHIP

  CHAPTER 9 LIFT THE VEIL

  CHAPTER 10 DELEGATION

  CHAPTER 11 BEAUTY GOES DEEP

  CHAPTER 12 DISCOLORATION

  CHAPTER 13 LOVE A LIE

  CHAPTER 14 THE WORLD ENDER

  CHAPTER 15 HIGH KINGS

  CHAPTER 16 WINSLET AND WHISPERS

  CHAPTER 17 PART OF THE PARADE

  CHAPTER 18 HALF AWAKE AND ALMOST DEAD

  EPILOGUE

  Acknowledgments

  Glossary

  About the Author

  PROLOGUE

  Archive: The Order of the Tempest

  Are you sure we’re in knob-knocking Amster, Jax?” Wayra Waters whispers as he stands watch by the door. It’s dark in the command center control room they’ve just broken into. He rubs a scrap of cloth over his throat, wiping the sweat from the black tribal tattoos that mark him as a Rafe soldier.

  “We’re in the north corridor of the abandoned city.” Jax Roule’s deft fingers conduct the virtual keypad of the holographic screen with military precision. As he sifts through hundreds of holographic image files, a sliver of light falls on his violet eyes. “This place is a decaying skeleton with modern innovation wired into it.”

  Wayra ignores the crumbling Gothic architecture. His focus is on his job as watch. “I bet you can’t even get venish here,” he mumbles. His lips twist with scorn. “How long will it take you to infiltrate their technology?”

  “I’m in,” Jax replies. “How are we?”

  “We’re clear. Their patrol is at midcycle. Did you locate Kricket?”

  “No.”

  Wayra’s fierce stare turns sharply to Jax. “Stop messing around. We have to find and extract her.”

  Jax’s grim expression is half in shadow. “She’s not here—”

  “It’s true then? That band of Alameeda half-breeds who raided us gave her to Kyon Ensin?”

  Jax nods. “They traded her to him for her sister, Astrid Hollowell.”

  “That’s messed up—I didn’t even know Kricket had a sister.”

  “I don’t think Kricket knew either. You want to hear something worse? I think I just found her father.”

  “You’re lying!” Wayra accuses, his nostrils flaring in anger.

  “No, I’m not. It’s Pan Hollowell. He’s alive.”

  “Where has he been all her life?”

  “Here.”

  “On Ethar?”

  “In Amster.”

  “What’s he been doing here?”

  “It looks like he’s been building an army of rebels.” Jax searches some more. “I found something.” he hisses. Wayra takes another long look outside before joining Jax by the hologram projector.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a training tape—it’s for these half-breed soldiers who run this city—they call themselves the Order of the Tempest.”

  “What a bunch of nims!” Wayra scoffs and comes closer to the virtual image.

  “Here, watch this hologram. It’s Pan in Amster before they rebuilt this fortress several floans ago. He’s explaining the Order of the Tempest—and Black Math!” Jax tugs the earpiece from his ear and hands it to Wayra, who puts it in his ear as Jax replays the message.

  Pan Hollowell’s larger-than-life image walks on air in the holographic channel. Filmed amid the ancient ruins of the city of Amster, Pan looks every bit like a military officer in his black uniform.

  “He’s one of us!” Wayra whispers. “He could’ve been in our unit!”

  “He’s ex-Cavar, you can tell by his tat—he was a Rafe Triclone in the war before this one.” Jax points to the concentric triangle tattoos that cover the side of Pan’s throat.

  “How old is this recording?” Wayra asks.

  “Almost as old as Kricket. Shh! This is the part I want you to hear!” Jax says.

  In the recording, Pan’s piercing eyes scan the devastation surrounding him. “Black Math had its origins here,” he says, “in the once-thriving metropolis of Amster. This plague destroyed most of Ethar a thousand floans ago.” He walks among the desolate shells of buildings. “Many people believe that it was a naturally occurring epidemic, begun by chance. They’re wrong. Black Math was inflicted on masses of Etharian citizens by a man named Excelsior Ensin, to seize power from established nations and to form the five Houses of Ethar: Rafe, Comantre, Peney, Wurthem, and Alameeda.

  “For centuries, Excelsior Ensin has been creating an enhanced race of female Etharians known as the Priestesses of Alameeda. Through genetic manipulation, these females are all born with extrasensory gifts. These gifts range from telekinesis, to soothsaying, to mind control and more. My consort, Arissa Hollowell, inherited one such gift: the gift of prophecy.

  “The Alameeda Brotherhood has made it illegal for males with the same abilities to exist. They hunt them because they fear them. It’s why we’ve formed our secret society here in the abandoned city of Amster. We will save them because they are the future of Ethar.

  “This is the origin of the Order of the Tempest. Our mission is to protect the true priestess of the prophecy: the priestess, born of two worlds and two Houses. She will become our Empress of Ethar.”

  CHAPTER 1

  PULLED UNDER

  Kyon’s lips against mine are coaxing. With aching gentleness, he attempts to ease the resistance he finds in my tight-lipped response to his kiss. “Kricket,” he whispers.

  His lips should be cold, I think, a mirror of his ice-blue stare. I try to turn my head and escape the curves of his mouth. My lips skim lightly over the stone rigidness of his jaw, tasting the saltiness of the sea air that settles there. His lips hunt mine, finding them again—claiming ownership by covering them once more.

  The pleasure he finds at having me in his arms is unmistakable. His heartbeat drums against my hand on his chest. I gasp as my fingertips feel the small, raised scar on his skin—the only indication that I’d stabbed him. Kyon wastes no time in seizing the opportunity my parted lips present. His tongue delves into my mouth, stroking against mine. A shiver trembles through me. He feels it. It prompts him to pull me tighter to his body.

  My thin nightgown is no protection from the heat of his bare chest. It seeps through th
e cloud of white fabric. I’m dwarfed by the size of him. He holds me with his hand against my lower back while his other hand traces a delicate path to my shoulder. Continuing on, his warm fingers splay against the nape of my neck. He can snap it without even trying, my mind whispers.

  The warmth from Kyon’s hand causes goose bumps to spread over my flesh. His kisses turn demanding—restless against my lips. I listen to the soft, lapping water pushing its way onto the white sand near us. The sea breeze lifts my hair from around my shoulders, scattering long blond strands of it across Kyon’s masculine cheek. He moves his grasp to my jaw. His thumb caresses my earlobe as strong fingers entwine in my hair.

  While Kyon’s lips continue their assault, I’m a ghost in the darkness, waiting while my mind works out what to do. My knuckles must be white and bloodless—my fingernails pierce my palms. He won’t allow me to pull away.

  With a growl, I bite down hard on Kyon’s bottom lip, tasting his blood. My knee comes up in an attempt to connect with his groin. I miss.

  He seizes my wrist, twisting it behind my back, forcing me to let go of his lip before he breaks my arm. I’m pinned to him. My cheek presses against the brutal solidness of his chest. It’s no haven from pain. His huge fist twists in my hair at the base of my skull. He jerks it and makes me look up until our eyes meet.

  He’s furious. Blood seeps from his bottom lip. I match his stare with a defiant one of my own.

  Seeing enough, he lets go of my wrist and lifts me off my feet, hoisting me over his shoulder. He crosses the stone patio to a wrought-iron gate. He unlatches the ornate catch. It doesn’t squeak as it swings wide. His bare feet sink into white sand. I pound on his back with my fist, trying to kick my legs, but they’re trapped in the vise of his forearm. “Let go!” I demand.

  I lurch up and make a grab for his hair, but he drops me down so far that I can’t gain enough leverage to get to it. Reaching the water, he pulls me off his shoulder and secures me in his arms. He keeps my wrists pinned so I can’t hit him. When the first cold wave splashes me, soaking my white nightgown, I begin to panic in earnest.

  “Don’t!” I yell. It comes out in a high-pitched screech. I look up at his handsome profile, seeing his jaw clench. He doesn’t reply, he just continues to take me farther out into the water. “No, no, no, nooo!”

  Waist deep, he stops. Violently, he grips me by the front of my nightgown and plunges me into the water, holding me under. My hair waves in my face, floating in the current. With eyes wide open, I see the phosphorescent glow of coral. Its shine causes my skin to take on a greenish-blue tint. I hold my breath. My heart wants to break out through my chest. Gripping Kyon’s brutal forearm, I dig my nails into him, scratching so that he’ll let go of me. It does nothing. I beat on his arm with my fist. He pulls me up out of the surf. My nose and throat burn, and I choke and gasp for air. I can feel the heavy blond tendrils of my hair plastered to my face.

  Kyon’s fist tightens again. I’m thrust under the water and held down. The lack of oxygen makes my lungs feel like they’ll explode at any second. I panic. Every cell of my body fights for life, except for a small part of me, which is tempted to succumb to the madness of the moment. Kyon expects me to struggle, but he doesn’t want me dead. He went through so much trouble to have me—too much to kill me now. He wants my compliance—acceptance of the fact that he and the Alameeda Brotherhood own me. I have to gain the upper hand. I have to figure out a way to control a control freak.

  I stop struggling against him, allowing my fingernails that are dug into his wrist to ease. I let go of him. My hands slip into the water, beneath the surf. My limbs wave in the current washing over me, lost within its embrace.

  Kyon pulls me up once more. I break through the surface of the water. The starlight is just a blur. The glow from the Sea of Stars is reflected on Kyon’s angry face, highlighting the tight muscles of his neck and his cold stare. “Give up?” he asks me quietly.

  “Never,” I croak.

  “I can kill you right now.”

  “You won’t.”

  “How do you know?” he asks in a sinister tone.

  “I’m your little savage. You want me too much.”

  It’s there on his face. I’m right. We both know it. “I do want you too much,” he admits, “but I won’t tolerate defiance.”

  “You’re sadistic. You enjoy defiance. It’s what makes me different from everyone else. I won’t blindly obey you.”

  “I like it when you use your mind. But you’re wrong,” he says with a gentle voice as his fingers brush my wet hair from my cheek. “Right now I insist upon your obedience.”

  A wave crashes into my back, pushing me against his chest. I clutch his shoulders and try to steady myself in the water. His hands move from the front of my nightgown to my waist. When the next wave pushes me forward, my breasts press against his chest, and his expression changes from anger to desire. He leans near; his rough cheek rubs against my much softer skin.

  “I brought you here to hurt you,” Kyon murmurs, the timbre of his voice rumbles through his chest into mine. His words make my heart squeeze tight.

  “Do your worst,” I retort with bravado, but inside I quake.

  “Nothing’s in your control. When I hurt you—or how,” he replies, summing up my problem in a nutshell. “Submit to me. I own you.”

  “You sound like owning me is something remarkable—an accomplishment. You don’t know what you have, do you?” I ask with an insincere smile. “I’m just a collection of sad stories, Kyon.”

  “I want to know every one of those stories. Don’t fight me. We can make our story perfect.”

  My blood is as thin as the seawater surrounding me. It courses through my veins too quickly, making me dizzy. “Where would be the fun in that?”

  The deep rumble of his laughter vibrates through my chest as he holds me closer. “Our story will never end, Kricket. I’ll never let you go—not when we fit so well together. You’re my darker half.”

  My eyes widen in surprise. “You’ve gotta be kidding, Kyon. If anyone is dark, it’s you.”

  “A star will shine brighter than all the other stars just before it goes dark forever,” he murmurs, as if it’s a secret he’s imparting to me.

  “You mean as it explodes and extinguishes forever?”

  “I mean right before it transforms into something infinitely more powerful. And once your heart turns black, there will be no escaping it.”

  “If I’m the dark one between us, why am I afraid of you?” I ask.

  “Because you should be.”

  My trembling becomes more pronounced under his intense gaze. I have to hide everything from him—keep everything I’m thinking a secret. His assault on me will be brutal—mentally as well as physically.

  I have no place to hide, not the way the stars have aligned against me. I’m in this with Kyon until I find a way out. That realization makes me do something that I never thought I’d do in a million years: I pull Kyon to me and rest my cheek against his shoulder. Our feet touch beneath the water; toe-to-toe we stand. “I don’t want to be dark.”

  Kyon’s arms tighten around me before he slides his hand up my back to the nape of my neck. “You make me want to beat the life out of you one moment, and in the next I ache to drag you to the beach and make love to you in the sand.”

  “Is there an option C?”

  His touch is restless; the same as the sea that swirls around us. “No. No option C.”

  He lifts me up in his arms and brings me to the shore. My blood drains away from my face. He lays me on the sand and covers me with his body. I expect to be crushed, but I’m not. He holds his weight on his elbows. Still, I’m trapped, unable to move from beneath the cage he’s created with his enormous frame. Waves pour over our feet and thighs. The glow from the two moons above us is enough to see every line of his sharp jaw as he studies me.

  “I want this.” His nose skims up my throat in an intimate caress.

  “I don’t,�
� I growl between my teeth.

  “You need someone you can’t control. Someone who will protect you and advise you.”

  I point a finger at his face. “You’re wrong. I need to be in control. Without it, I’m desperate. Knob knockers like you have tried to control me my entire life!”

  “You seem to be out of options,” he says, but he doesn’t make any move to kiss me again. He just studies me as if I’m a mermaid washed up on the shore.

  My mind whispers, Don’t stay . . . I hope for the Sea of Stars to swallow me up. “There’s one option you haven’t thought of, Kyon,” I reply. I concentrate, wishing for sweet oblivion. Escape. A tear slips from my eye as I whisper, “Trey.”

  CHAPTER 2

  LISTEN TO YOU BREATHING

  I’m violently ripped away from myself. My consciousness leaves my body. Hovering above me for a moment, I see Kyon holding my cold, lifeless form. He notices the change in me immediately. He knows I’m no longer there. Shaking me in anger, he growls when I don’t open my eyes. “Kricket,” he snarls, knowing somehow that I’m still here. He pulls my lifeless body up from the sand, gripping my shoulders; he shelters my wet body from the pull of the sea.

  My attention wanes from Kyon because I’m everywhere and nowhere; woven in the air with only one thought: Trey. I become a compass needle searching for north. In no time, I’m miles high, scorched by heat even when I’m bathed in darkness that only the light of the Etharian moons relieves.

  I travel over the water. It glows beneath me with an ancient, iridescent fire. A galaxy of stars burn beneath its surface, but the Sea of Stars doesn’t last. I flash forward, crossing over cities I’ve never been to before, past mountains and wilderness that harbor herds of creatures for which I have no names. In the moonlight, the abandoned husk of the City of Amster slouches. I recognize it from the time that I had traveled through the restricted area with Trey on my way to Rafe. It sits in a valley and grows haphazardly into the horizon. Waves of decrepit buildings crest the landscape in currents.

  What I know of this city is that a plague called Black Math decimated it more than a thousand years ago. Ancient walls that were built up to the clouds are crumbling now. The wind whistles through their broken windows, echoing low, sorrowful moans.