Chapter 7

ASHEN

It’s been five days.

Five days with no sign, no feeling, no whispering sense of my Lu.

I stand in front of the mirror and look at the mated mark on my chest. I worry about the lines. Are they becoming blurry? Is the gold becoming dull? The black becoming grey? Sometimes an hour passes just looking at the lion mace, wondering why this world tears everything good from my grasp.

And wondering how I will punish it back.

My gaze roams from the mark to my eyes. Dark crescents inhabit the flesh beneath them. Red rings circle my irises. It’s the sleeplessness, the stress of the panic that never abates. And it’s the bitter helplessness. I don’t even know where to look. Where to start. In the sea? How do I search an endless ocean of decaying souls for the one light to ever grace its depths? It would consume her. It would hide her and never give her back.

But it doesn’t stop me from trying.

Every day I search from the cliffs. Every night I wade into the anguish of hell, swimming parallel to the shore, searching for anything that might tell me where she is.

Nothing. Nothing comes.

“Are you ready?” a voice calls from the living room. I grind my molars, trying to quell the irritation of having to do anything that takes my focus from my omnipresent distress or my drive to find her.

My only reply is to leave the bathroom. I enter the living room as I button my shirt, my fingers touching the mark as I close the fabric over my heart. Cole and Ediye stand waiting in the opulent room of the quarters we’ve commandeered from one of the slain Council members.

I take my sword and my bag and glance to where Lu’s katana lies resting on a table in the corner of the room. There are reminders of her everywhere, even in places she’s never been. They cause the dread and darkness to churn within me, but I cannot stop myself from seeking them out.

“Let’s go, Reaper,” the witch says, pulling my eyes from Lu’s weapon. Ediye’s voice is like gravel from lack of sleep. She doesn’t show it as much, but she is just as weary and heartsick as I am. She squeezes Cole’s hand, and he presses a kiss to her bare shoulder before she pulls on her jacket. I turn away from watching the simple comfort of a touch. Even my skin aches for Lu, as though it’s starved by her absence.

The witch and I leave the Shadow Realm to the care of Cole and Cyrus and the soldiers who keep the rest of the demons under fierce supervision. In these last few days, I have taken great pains to weed out the disloyal among them. The deaths I have dealt have been brutal and unforgiving. Rumor spread quickly that none would be spared. And so, the realm has been quiet. For now. Even still, I refuse to leave for more than a few hours at most. The fear that Lu will appear while I’m away or that I could miss feeling anything that will tell me where to look is too much weight to bear.

But this has to be done.

We arrive at a corridor near the town of Bran and then portal through Ediye’s power to the coven across the mountain from Valentina’s estate. It’s much like Valentina’s home, a fortified, small castle where several family groups of witches carve out a comfortable, remote existence. They stay hidden in the snow-capped stone structures, not coming out to greet the Reaper in their midst.

The others are waiting outside for our arrival.

Eryx radiates light when he sees Ediye, folding her into a long embrace, his wings shielding their kiss from my view. Valentina watches me with concern, as though she doesn’t trust my hold over my sanity. Probably wise. Davina drifts into view and I cut my gaze away from her as cinders burn in my eyes. Eryx and Ediye separate, the witch running her knuckles beneath her lashes to swipe away any tears before they fall.

The small group turns their attention to me as I lay my bag on the snow and roll up my sleeve. I loathe the pitying looks they give me. Their empathy is wasted. I don’t want kindness. I want answers. I want Lu.

And I would kill any one of them to get her back.

The witch Ediye is the only person who provides any real comfort. It’s because she is equally driven to find Lu. She spends hour after hour researching ancient spells and testing incantations. She has forged tenuous collaborations with several of the Reapers of House Ushzu, whose demons specialize in witches and warlocks. But even speaking with Reapers who have claimed the souls of her kind, Ediye is undeterred. She presses on, day after day. And I know that Lu loves her. It makes me see them both through another lens. It makes me feel closer to Lu despite her absence.

The only other person I find comfort in is Cyrus, my second in command. He brings me the lives of traitors to take. Any who were too slow to bow to my Queen. Any who whisper insidious plans in the shadows. I kill them all. And I find I cannot get enough blood on my hands to satisfy the monster within me.

But I’m hoping there’s one being who can help.

“Ana nurika nami azziz,” I say in a low voice. My wings of smoke awaken, curling from beneath my skin in anticipation. “Ana elleti tiparika azziz.”

Smoke shields my eyes as the light of the summoning appears before me. It grows until it forms a sphere, pulsating with energy, humming louder and louder until it bursts in multi-colored sparks. Aloros, representative of the anunnaki of House Esagila, steps forward, folding his razor wings behind him in a show of goodwill.

“Demon,” he says. His green eyes brighten as he surveys my face. “Battle has been unkind to you, it seems. Has it been worth it?”

Arrogant fucker.

“No. It has not. But we succeeded in our objective nonetheless.” I toss the bag at the angel’s feet. He turns his gaze to it with a devious smile. The angel bends and opens the sack, pulling on the long tendrils of Imogen’s hair until her severed head dangles before him. He glances down into the bag where Eshkar’s face stares up at the cloud-covered sky with unseeing eyes.

“So you did. And now you control the Shadow Realm. I will keep my end of the bargain and House Esagila will resurrect Aglaope of Anthemoessa, and then we shall draft our plans to conquer the Nephilim.”

“The Shadow Realm will uphold our vow to destroy our common enemy,” I say, unwilling to correct his assumption about who rules our realm. “But do not resurrect Aglaope yet.”

The angel sharpens his eyes at me with suspicion, his dark skin flaring with a glow that fades as quickly as a blink. “Why not?”

“It was for Leucosia. She’s missing.”

The angel’s brows flick. I swallow a thick knot as the angel casts his gaze across my face, surely seeing the evidence of my distress engraved in every curve and angle.

“We were attacked by Nephilim,” I explain.

The angel tilts his head.

“Leucosia leapt into the Black Sea during her escape, and then she disappeared.”

“Then the vampire Leucosia has met her end.”

Those words punch me harder than any fist. My heart shakes with their impact. I swallow my pain and anger, willing myself to hold on to reason for just a little while longer. Even still, my wings flare behind me with sparks and smoke. “If she is dead, I should be too. We are blood-mated. The bond worked as promised once before. But I should be able to feel her. I cannot.”

The angel regards me for a long moment. Something softens in his eyes. It’s not pity, or even empathy. Just…acknowledgement. He gives a single nod. “Every ocean holds mysteries, even our own. I will send search parties to cover the City of Anur and the shores of the Silver Sea, in case she stumbled upon a portal to our lands and is lost in the Realm of Light.”

“The ziggurat—”

“We will search for her essence through the temple as well. If she is in the Living Realm, the anunnaki will find her, though it might take time if she is hidden with magic. But we will search nonetheless.”

I bow my head, grateful to not have to ask for help from a creature who should be my greatest enemy. “Thank you, anunnaki.”

“What of Aglaope?”

“Keep her safe. If we find Leucosia, I will summon you for the resurrection.”

Aloros gathers the bag of severed heads and spreads his wings. They flash with iridescent camouflage. Lu is there, bright in my memory. A ripple of anger cascades through me for the damage this angel once inflicted on the soft, radiant skin of her cheek with his feathers, their edges as sharp as freshly made blades. Again, I subdue my rage, eager to return to the Shadow Realm where I can find a place to unleash it.

The angel seems to sense my struggle. His wings beat as he readies to take off for his portal at Pestera Liliecilor. “As you wish, demon,” he says.

“Anunnaki,” I call before he can dart into the sky. Aloros looks at me with a question in his drawn brows. “Guard your corridors. The Nephilim were let into the Shadow Realm. And when I find the traitor, their suffering will never end.”

Aloros regards me with a long, hard look, and then ascends into the sky. I turn from the others, not wanting their warmth or their glances or their words that are meant to be kind but leave me feeling emptier than silence.

When Aloros is gone, Ediye gathers the herbs and materials she needs from the coven but does not linger as I wait outside alone. It isn’t long before we return to the corridor at Bran and enter the Shadow Realm. My fleeting hope that I will feel Lu’s presence dissolves as soon as we pass through the flame. There is only Lu’s absence. The weight of nothingness is more crushing than I could ever have imagined.

We check in with Cole and Cyrus, and then I escort Ediye to the library before continuing on alone to the house among the cliffs. I descend the winding path that leads to the shore and Urtur is already there, watching, waiting, ready to enter the water at my side.

We start our agonizing evening ritual. We swim in patterns across the area where Lu must have landed in the water. Urtur paddles, whining and panting as he sniffs the air for any scent. I duck my head beneath the waves and try to listen. What for, I don’t know. Anything other than the agony of the millions of human souls converging in this putrid sea. I look for any light. But as always, there is nothing.

When I can no longer bear the suffering and the sound of Urtur’s cries, we leave the water, the jackal following me up to the house. We take the path through the drawing room, ascending the stone steps.

Is that why you like me? You like broken things?

Lu’s voice is as clear in my mind as though she were right next to me. Her face is so vibrant. I even see the way she purses her lips when she makes a joke to test the waters of her fears. I stop on the stairs and close my eyes, pressing my fingers to my mark as I wait for the pain of this memory to subside.

I take a deep breath and keep going up the steps, taking no notice of the sculptures along the path. They might as well not exist. I only stop once I reach the shattered glass of Lu’s statue. The moment Urtur and the Nephilim crashed into her figure, locked in their bloody battle, it felt like an omen. A portent of doom. And it was.

I lower to my knees among the scattered shards and pick up the golden mask, turning it over in my hands.

You like broken things?

I should never have begged her to run. I should have trusted her as she did me. My own weakness is responsible. I thought the worst thing imaginable would be to watch her come to harm. But I was wrong. This. This is the worst thing. A life as though she’s been erased, while still being surrounded by the echo of her presence. I can feel the way she started to change this place. She was in the Shadow Realm so briefly, and yet it was happening all around her. And she never even knew. She never knew she was at the heart of it all.

I cannot say how long it is that I spend looking into the vacant eyes of the mask before I hear footsteps approaching behind me. Urtur stays motionless where he lays next to the entrance of the greenhouse, his eyes following the motion of the person who draws near.

“Sir, it’s Zida,” Cyrus says as he draws to a halt. I turn my head in acknowledgment. “She’s found the traitor.”

Sparks eat through my skin, a welcome burn that flares with bright heat across my back. My wings billow from my flesh. “Who?”

“Joash. Hakan’s brother.”

I rise. Flame consumes my eyes as I turn to face Cyrus. “Hakan? The demon Leucosia killed on Anthemoessa?”

“Yes. It seems Joash was working with Ember. Zida tracked him to a cabin north of Huedin. He was with Ember’s remaining loyalists in the Living Realm.”

“Where is he now?”

“She dragged him back. He’s in the Kur, alive but still subdued with venom. The hunting party has captured the rest of the group and is returning them to the Shadow Realm now.”

I turn away. I walk over to the gift I’ve spent my sleepless hours making for Lu, in case she might ever return. It’s finished now, lying covered beneath heavy black velvet. It feels like a funeral shroud. I look at it for a long moment, wondering if there will ever be an end to this grief. But the rage I feel, I know that will never die.

I turn to Cyrus, a new purpose filling the cavity in my soul. I meet his eyes with a dark and mirthless smile.

“Take them to the Council Room in the Kur. Send a contingent of soldiers to the Resurrection Chambers. I want any who resurrect brought back to me as soon as I send them to their deaths. I intend to punish. Indefinitely.”

Cyrus gives a single nod and strides into the growing darkness to fulfill my commands. I look down at the mask in my hands, shifting it to reflect the dimmest light before I set it on the velvet and walk away.

I will bring justice. In the absence of my Queen’s merciful light, I will be the darkness that consumes the world, one traitorous soul at a time.