Sneak Peek of Empire of Secrets
Chapter One
I’m going to retch. There’s no escaping it.
I swallow, lips still pressed to Harpoc’s—it’s the swoon-worthy way we left Turkey in a cloud of his dark swirls a minute ago. But my stomach is utterly and completely done with what feels like the longest tripskip he’s ever taken me on.
Panic swells in me. There’s nothing I can do to avoid hurling at him because my body’s frozen in place as darkness and disorientation continue pummeling me despite Harpoc’s steady hands holding my waist.
I swallow again, but it’s not working.
It’ll be so gross.
I can’t even warn him.
Here I thought I was getting my nausea under control from this abominable means of transport, but clearly not.
Any love-struck, fluttering butterflies in my stomach crash-land in the swell of nausea.
I swallow again, begging my stomach to calm.
You can do it, Pell, my inner voice cheers me on.
Nope, my stomach’s not having it.
Please… the tone in my head turns pleading. I’ll get you some Tums as soon as we land, I promise.
I pray my gut doesn’t know what a liar I am because who knows what the Empire of Secrets offers for raging stomachs.
No dice. That feeling of impending doom, that unmistakable juices-building-in-the-back-of-my-throat-just-before-I-hurl is growing, growing.
Any second. I can’t hold it back any longer.
I feel ground beneath my feet for no more than an instant before I fall forward on a patch of dirt amongst ferns and short foliage and my stomach purges itself with a vengeance. Coffee, this morning’s breakfast, and who knows what else, from before we dealt with King Midas, vacate the premises in a hurry.
No birds chirp. No bees buzz. Not one sound echoes under the dim of the dense tree canopy that Harpoc somehow found a small clearing to land in. I don’t blame them. Retching sounds are disgusting. I’d shut up, too.
I’m panting, still on all fours several minutes later.
Harpoc’s beside me, holding back my long, auburn hair along with my full hood with one hand. His other hand moves up and down my back as I suck in air, trying to reason with my stomach. But the smell of sick makes that impossible.
Harpoc banishes it.
I spit the wretched taste from my mouth and sit back on my haunches, tears in my eyes from the ordeal. “Thank you.”
I eye him up and down, but thankfully it seems his gray duster and black pants are unaffected. Even his wavy, onyx hair remains perfectly styled.
No doubt I’m a complete mess.
A complete mess… Horror replaces that sick feeling, and I drop my gaze to the slate-colored leather long coat Harpoc did his abracadabra to create just moments before. It’s the finest thing I’ve ever worn, and I can’t bear to see it soiled, especially like this.
My hands follow my gaze, running over the soft leather that’s trimmed with fine black decorative stitching along the lapels, then over the three silver buttons that line either side of the front below that.
I exhale heavily. Miraculously it seems to have avoided the whole ordeal, too, unless… I look up at Harpoc.
“We couldn’t have you looking anything but your best.” He winks.
I let a corner of my mouth hitch. “Seems I owe you.”
“I have a few ways you might make it up to me.” Heat simmers in his eyes and the butterflies that crash-landed, launch once more in my very empty stomach.
“How about we fly the rest of the way?” Harpoc says.
“I could kiss you.” I run a hand along his chiseled jaw, and as I do that foul taste vanishes from my mouth as he leans down.
“I plan to finish what we started.” Seduction fills his tone as he pivots closer, still on his knees, and then his arms are around me and he’s pulling me onto his lap and kissing me fiercely. My toes curl inside my new black boots as I eagerly surrender, running my hands through the curls at the back of his neck.
Harpoc does indeed finish what we start… and then some.
I’m panting for a wholly different reason, and my lips feel swollen by the time we pull back, but I don’t care. Harpoc just grins, clearly satisfied with himself.
Arrogant male.
Crickets chirp and owls hoot—no doubt telling us to get a room—as I look around for the first time, noticing the light has nearly abandoned us. I pull the lapels of my coat up looking for warmth now that the sun has gone down.
“Where are we?”
Harpoc hugs me and I melt into his warmth. “We’re on Nemus Isle, one of the most remote of the archipelago of one hundred and forty-four floating islands that make up the Empire of Secrets. They run the gambit of sizes, populations, and climates, so if you get tired of one, you can find yourself another, more agreeable, without much trouble.”
“Floating islands?” I furrow my brow. “How does that work? I hadn’t pictured the Empire of Secrets as coastal.”
Harpoc chuckles, then tweaks my nose. “It’s not. These islands float in the air.”
My eyes go wide. “You’re telling me”—I scan the treetops—“this land mass is floating on nothing but air currents? How’s that even possible?”
“No idea, but it’s the way it’s always been.”
“Have you ever accidently run over a planet or two that’s in the way? Ever lose your bearings because an island turns around? Ever can’t find your way home because home’s moved without you knowing?”
He snorts. “No, not to my knowledge, and no.”
I shake my head. Nothing about Harpoc or his secret magic makes logical sense, so why do I expect this to? When will I learn?
Floating islands. Okay, sure. Fine.
