Chapter 39

CHAPTER39

Iwatch in silence as Ashen changes into a tunic and black leathers. He straps matte black armor across his chest and shoulders. I notice gold designs carved into the edges and recognize the pattern of vines and leaves from the gilt edges of my journal that’s somewhere back in Romania. I flick my eyes to Ashen’s but I feel nothing but remoteness in his gaze. My heart shrinks behind my ribs.

I’m not given clothes. Not even shoes. I just stand and watch, naked beneath my silk robe.

When Ashen is ready, he grasps hold of my upper arm and leads the way through the door. The two soldiers cast wary glances in my direction as we pass them, but they keep quiet as they fall in line behind us. We climb the black stairs with nothing more than the sound of footsteps and armor echoing off the stone.

We ascend two flights before we reach an empty black room with windows framing a tall set of double mahogany doors. The souls chained to the long iron handles start to pull them open when they see us.

Both of them look at me. Into me.

Leucosia of Anthemoessa, a whisper says in my mind. Weapon of sweet voice.

It’s coming from the soul on the right. A woman. I can tell, even though they are little more than nearly featureless, formless specters.

She was a witch. A witch from Brazil. Izabel. Izabel Sousa. Coven Tecoma. Crime of Sedition. Reaped by Nuri of House-

“Vampire,” Ashen says, but there’s no warmth or familiarity in his voice. It’s cold and distant, but confused. It’s only then that I realize I’ve been mumbling, rattling off the details of this soul I’ve never met before.

I blink up at Ashen and he looks thoroughly weirded out by whatever he sees. “Am I changing into a dog?”

A crease flickers between Ashen’s brows as he stares down at me. “No. But your eye color briefly changed.”

I’d be willing to take a guess it changed to the icy blue shade of an Alpha, which gives me a little hope that the spell I cast during my last breaths in the Living Realm, one to bind the werewolves and hybrids to me even beyond death, might just have worked.

I don’t wait for Ashen to pull me along before I stride ahead, trying not to look too long at the souls that haven’t taken their eyes from me.

The thick fog. The dim twilight. The gas lanterns. The black carriage that rolls to a stop at the end of the path before us, pulled by the necks of souls. Nothing has changed in the Shadow Realm, it seems.

We start to descend the steps of the building when a keening cry finds us from the depths of the fog. Another calls back to it. Yet another replies, and the three Reapers around me draw their blades.

I hear the distant slap of palms and bare feet on the road in the darkness. The sound of crawlers.

“A pack at this hour?” one of the soldiers says as Ashen’s arm comes out before me, pushing us all back. I glance up at him and I know by the look on his face that my eyes have changed again.

“They are drawn to her. Get back in the building.”

“No.”

“Vampire-”

I grab his arm and press my other palm to his forehead before he can wrap his hand around mine. I take hold of his thoughts with my mind, not enough to hurt him like I did with Leander, but enough to force him to step back. Let me do this, I whisper into his thoughts, and I let go before I can hear anything in return.

He looks at me, stunned and a little disoriented, and I use his distraction to step away. I walk down the steps toward the approaching wave of crawlers whose decaying bodies are still obscured by the fog.

I cling onto hope as I take one last, heavy step toward the mist. I hold to the image of something I remember from my first time here in the Shadow Realm. Something that’s stuck in my mind like a thorn from when we walked home from Bit Akalum. The moment the crawlers mounted their attack.

The soul looked at me.

But it came for Ashen.

I hear them. I hear their fractured, sorrowful thoughts in my mind.

I take a deep breath. It fills every crevice of my lungs.

The first notes of my song soar into the darkness just as the crawlers gallop up the path. I’ve chosen something just for them, these ancient, lost souls that are hunted and hated in the only realm that will take them. I sing them the Song of Seikilos. The song Seikilos had carved into the gravestone for his wife.

While you live, shine

Have no grief at all

Life exists only for a short while

And time demands its toll.

The crawlers lurch to a halt. Their eyes bore into me. Their fragmented thoughts ripple in my mind.

I take a step toward the closest one and reach out a tentative hand. It’s so far gone that I can’t tell what it once was until I lay my palm on its shoulder. All I can smell is decay and sorrow, and the faint trace of sulfur that clings to its wisps of white hair.

I close my eyes and see flashes of forest and patches of sunlight. Silver fur and glowing amber eyes reflecting on the surface of a glassy mountain lake. It was a werewolf once.

I lift my hand and we look at one another, the creature breathing hard and sniffing as though testing my scent.

“Go,” I whisper, and with just one blink they all turn and run back into the fog, all except the one I just touched. It backs away off the path as I pass by with slow steps. Its eyes never leave mine, not even as the Reapers walk by so close that the tip of Ashen’s sheathed sword brushes the creature’s leg.

I step up into the carriage and the Reapers join me, then we lumber on ahead into the fog. When I push the curtains back and look out the window, the crawler is still watching us, following next to the carriage for a distance down the road until we lose it in the ubiquitous fog.

I turn to face forward and meet Ashen’s assessing stare. “Well,” I say as I cross my arms across my chest. “That was interesting.”

Ashen’s eyes narrow at me but he says nothing before he turns his gaze away. I still don’t feel him beneath my skin. Those fingers of dread scratch at my spine.

The carriage takes us through the twilight shadows, and eventually the fog lifts a little as we reach the Bay of Souls. I look out across the oily black water, remembering the vision of Ashen swimming to the islands in the distance and Leander’s words about the depths beyond. When I glance at Ashen the muscle in his jaw is ticking, his gaze caught on the sea. His eyes flick to mine only once.

We roll along through the gates and stop at the entrance to the Kur. The soldiers are the first to disembark from the carriage, followed by Ashen. I slip my hand into his upturned palm and his fingers curl around mine as he helps me down. A subtle squeeze of pressure envelops my bones before he withdraws the warmth of his touch.

I have faith in you. I hold onto those words he said in the Resurrection Chamber as though they’re the only thing that will keep me from drowning in the fear crawling up my throat. I love you, my Lu. Do not forget it.

I take a deep breath as we walk into the imposing building. The feeling of dread fights with every effort I mount to keep calm. I glance toward the cauldrons where I made my escape with Cole and Ediye. My gaze catches on the spot where Ashen fell, hit by the blade I threw. I remember the way his hot blood coated the floor and the desperate sound of my name on his lips.

When we finally reach the other end of the building, the grand hall is filled with Reapers that stand lining either side of the tall room, creating an aisle that leads to the dais. I see a few familiar faces from Bit Akalum, including Imani and Tessa, and several others that watched Ashen and I dance with predatory desire in their eyes.

Imogen and Eshkar stand on the dais, looking much like they did the last time I saw them with ornate black robes draped over their shoulders. They’re flanked by twelve unfamiliar Reapers in equally formal attire. The Council, I assume.

Several guards stand along the edges of the dais, all of them watching me with dim flame in their eyes. I hear a sound behind us and look over my shoulder as soldiers in black armor close the gap of the aisle. I swallow a feeling of dread that’s as thick as a mace in my throat. No getting away this time, I guess.

“Master of War,” Eshkar says, stepping forward. The blunt end of his long spear thunks on the stone. “I placed other irons in the fire, and yet you are the one to return victorious, and your sister not at all.”

“I am the only one you needed.”

Eshkar lets out a huff of a laugh. “Yes. So it seems.” Eshkar’s eyes cut to me. “You bring us the vampire.”

“The hybrid,” Ashen corrects, taking a step toward the dais. “The weapon. Completed.”

“So your soldiers claim. How?”

“When the damage was corrected in her throat, her condition became more stable. She has since taken the wolf serum, and now has control over the hybrids as well as Semyon Abdulov’s pack of werewolves.”

Imogen takes a step forward, her gaze flowing down my robe, all the way to my bare feet. “How is this possible? How is she not attacking us?”

“I mated with her,” Ashen says, and my cheeks flush as hushed whispers swell around us. Eshkar raises a hand to calm the audience down. “I control her through blood and a shared mark. She is not mixed with anunnaki, but with me.”

I choke down an incredulous laugh as that cold wave of fear grips my spine. Fuck. Shit. Shit-fuck. I might have made the biggest mistake. The dumbest. One I can never worm my way out of. Fuck shit fuck. What if I filled in the gaps again? I might have just bound my life to my greatest enemy. The one who’s delivering me like a priced stag to a waiting bow. Oh man. That wind of fear is blowing hard, and all my sails are ready to speed me to the opposite end of wherever the fuck this is.

Just trust me. It will be hard. Really hard.

I try not to fidget under my crumbling confidence and the weight of the entire Council’s gaze.

“Bring her up here,” Eshkar says, and the glint of triumph shines in his eyes as he stares right into me.

I glance at Ashen. He gives me a nod and nothing more. Not even a glimmer of sparks in his eyes.

I look ahead.

I take a deep breath. I give myself nothing more than that breath and the heartbeats it contains. And then I make a choice.

It’s not him I need to trust this time. It’s me.

I need to believe that everything I’ve seen and felt is real. I know what I saw in the man that I chose. What’s in my own heart. I know that the love I feel is not an illusion. And I know what I am capable of, on my own, without anyone else.

Ashen takes my arm in a firm grip and we ascend the steps of the dais, drawing to a halt in front of Eshkar and Imogen. They both look me over as though I’m a sculpture in a museum, something pretty yet underwhelming.

“Imogen, if you will,” Eshkar says as he gestures toward me with a graceful swish of his hand.

Imogen drifts forward and her eyes light with bright green flame. Her long red waves lift from her shoulders in a gentle breeze. She offers her upturned hand for me to take, the tattoo on her palm glowing with golden light. “Take my hand, young one,” she says, her voice so sweet through her menacing smile.

I don’t take my eyes from hers as I slip my hand into her palm.

I blink and we’re standing just the same way as a second ago, but we’re in the living room of the Reaper cottage that I arrived in with Ediye and Cole after our escape.

“Your home,” I say.

Imogen smiles. “Yes. Do you like it?”

I don’t answer as my gaze flows across the space before returning to her. Imogen’s smile widens.

“Does Ashen of House Urbigu speak the truth?”

“Yes. My transformation is complete. And we are mated.”

Imogen’s smile turns benevolent. She reaches up and brushes hair from my face in a motherly gesture. I feel a trace of magic within her fingertips. It ignites an ache in my chest for a mother I’m not sure I ever knew. For one that left me on a beach, as a creature on an island with nothing but a name.

I smell the sea. I hear the crashing waves.

I fight that memory away and watch as Imogen’s eyes flare a brighter green.

“I can help you find out why they left you on Anthemoessa. I can help you find your past,” Imogen whispers.

The hurt of that betrayal burns so hot in my heart. I still feel the waves pulling me back to shore. My desperate voice is caught in my throat as I scream after them, salt water flooding my mouth until I have no choice but to land like broken driftwood on the shore.

I feel Aglaope’s hand on my shoulder. And I hold onto her love. I hold onto all the love I have now, the real love, this family that wouldn’t leave me behind on the shore. That would fight any battle at my side.

Tears sting in my eyes. One slips down my cheek. Imogen pulls me a step closer.

“You belong among us. You can help us win the fight against the Realm of Light. You can stop them from ending us and throwing the Living Realm into chaos. Your friends, your kind, they will die there if we don’t stop them. And in return for your help, we can give you what you are looking for. A family.”

Another tear falls, and then another. Imogen keeps hold of my hand as she reels me into an embrace with her other arm.

She hugs me because I adapted to what she wanted me to be.

So I could get exactly what I wanted from her.

Proximity.

I fold my free arm around Imogen, returning her embrace. And then I drive my fangs into her throat.

Imogen squeals as I suck in her essence. Her thoughts. Her soul. I stay latched on, my hand gripped to hers as we fall together to our knees. She beats against my arm with her free fist, but her strength wanes until she’s limp and boneless in my grasp.

“I already have a family,” I whisper as her dying eyes stay fused to mine.

I let go of her hand.

When I blink, I’m back on the dais. Imogen falls lifeless to my feet. I look up at Eshkar and smile.

The briefest moment of silent shock dissolves into chaos around us. Ashen commands for his soldiers to take the Council. Guards surge toward me as others push Eshkar back to safety. One grabs my arm and I smack my hand to his forehead. I send his mind into an unlit room, stealing his sword before he wanders away with his hands outstretched as though he’s feeling his way in the dark.

I hear Ashen behind me, cutting down anyone that’s getting too close, fighting off the Council’s guards and those soldiers that don’t follow his command. I fell one guard and then another with my stolen sword as the confusion crescendoes around us. The shouting and swearing, the sound of blades slicing through bone and splitting flesh, the slick wet squish of blood and bodies beneath feet. It’s a symphony. And all I have eyes for is Eshkar.

I drop my sword. I don’t need it anymore.

“Gassan tiildibba me zi ab. Alsi kunusi,”  I say, raising my arms. My voice rings above the chaos in layers of sound. It ripples the cascade of smoke that climbs the wall behind the dais. It shatters the windows high above the fog, raining glass across the room.

Queen that gives life to the dying.

I have called upon you.

Eshkar readies his spear and rushes toward me, but I don’t move.

He takes only two steps.

Zida strikes in a blur of white scales as she bursts from the shadows then coils back to the edge of the dais. She readies to strike again as Eshkar looks down to his chest, a line of poison mixing with the blood that streams from the hole next to his heart. He looks back up to me, and the only thing I see is the shock and rage and fear in his eyes.

I don’t look away from Eshkar, not as Zida attacks the remaining Council, not as Urtur runs across the dais to my right, picking off guards. Not as someone screams about crawlers rushing from the other end of the hall. I keep my eyes on Eshkar as Ashen passes by me and pulls the spear from Eshkar’s hand before he beheads him with a single sweep of his hellfire sword. Even as Eshkar’s head rolls across the dais and comes to a stop in a pool of blood, still my eyes are fused with his.

“Enough!” Ashen booms as he hits the end of the spear into the dais with a deafening thud. He glares across the room before he walks over to Eshkar’s head and picks it up by the hair, holding the face toward the audience of guards and soldiers and Reapers. The crawlers hem the crowd in from escaping. Souls gather at the edges of the room, drifting listlessly as though they’re not sure where to go. Even the hyenas roam within the shadows, their eyes on me.

The dead lie scattered around us. Some are everlasting deaths, other bodies lifting away in sparks and gray flakes. Ashen looks over at the two soldiers that rode in the carriage with us and orders them to take reinforcements to the Resurrection Chambers, and they scurry off down the hall.

Ashen turns his attention back to the crowd. “Eshkar and Imogen are dead. The Council is dead.” I glance over my shoulder as Zida coils restlessly behind me. The Council members lie scattered across the dais in slick pools of blood. “We were led by corruption. We were led into seeking a conflict that no realm could win. We were led away from our true purpose, to deliver the justice of souls. Merciful justice. Not savagery. Not barbarism. Not torture. Justice.”

Ashen throws Eshkar’s head into the crowd. A few of the Reapers gasp and whisper as it rolls among them. “I have control of the Shadow Realm now. And I tell you now, as your ruler, the real enemy is out there, waiting to take advantage of our distraction. And we almost gave them what they wanted.”

Ashen’s gaze flows over the crowd before he sheathes his sword. He turns and walks over to Eshkar’s body and kneels down, pulling a chain from around the bloody stump of his neck. A filigree gold square emerges from beneath the stained robes. It’s encrusted with dark red rubies and polished tourmaline.

Ashen looks at the square for a long moment before he stands and walks to the front of the dais, the chain in one hand, the spear in the other. When he’s in front of me, he stops and turns in my direction.

And I feel him beneath my skin.

So much pride. So much love. But fear too. I don’t know if it’s fear for me, or of me.

“All right, vampire?” he whispers. I nod, a brief smile fleeting across my lips. The warmth in his eyes offsets his fearsome appearance with that matte black armor and the spatter of blood across his face. “Thank you, my Lu.”

“For what?” I whisper back over the sound of Zida’s shifting scales.

Ashen smiles. He takes a step closer, just out of reach. “For trusting me.”

My heart hammers my bones. I want so much to touch him, but I feel so many eyes watching us and it keeps my hands hidden within the long sleeves of my robe. I just smile again, trying not to let my gaze drift toward the crowd of demons that stare up at us.

“I promised you something,” Ashen says. “And it’s time for you to decide what you want.”

My brows furrow with confusion.

“I swore that if you wanted to burn all the realms, I would hand you the match.” Ashen holds the necklace up by the bloody chain, the square twirling at the end. “This is the match.”

I look from the spinning square of gold to Ashen’s eyes. “I don’t understand,” I whisper.

“This key opens all the corridors to the Shadow Realm. All the gateways. You could let the hybrids and werewolves in,” he says, his voice so low that only I can hear him. “You have the most powerful Reapers here, rounded up at your feet. You could sweep this land clean of every demon. You could burn it to the ground, and I will hunt them by your side until the last Reaper dies at your hand.”

I swallow a shallow breath.

I can’t deny it. I’ve wanted this. I’ve thought of it so many times. In moments of the deepest darkness, this is what I wished for. These fantasies of vengeance were my raft when this realm cut me and broke me and stole from me. I wished for this place to burn.

Ashen sees the war in my mind. His eyes never leave mine as he gives me a gentle smile and takes a step back.

“The choice is yours, my Lu. My love. It’s match,” he says as he raises the chain in my direction, “or mercy.”

Ashen raises the spear, and I follow its long silver staff to the point that tapers toward the ceiling.

I look at Ashen, his expression so patient, as though he would force this whole realm to wait in silence for as long as it takes for me to decide.

I close my eyes and take one deep breath in. I let it out through pursed lips, feeling every heartbeat that passes through it.

I open my eyes.

“Mercy,” I say.

Ashen lowers the chain and takes a step forward, then another. He stops in front of me and pushes the shaft of the spear into my open hand. I take the cool metal in my grasp and he gives me a reassuring smile as he curls his fingers around mine.

“Reapers and souls. Beasts and creatures of the darkness,” Ashen says, his voice carrying through the hall as his eyes stay fused to mine. “In my first act as ruler of the Shadow Realm, I relinquish my power and command to Leucosia of Anthemoessa.”

Ashen lets go of my hand. He draws his sword from its scabbard and lowers his eyes from mine. And then he bends his head and drops to one knee at my feet.

“Demons of the Shadow Realm,” he says. His voice cuts through the silence, as sharp and deadly as a blade.

“Bow before your Queen.”