Chapter 27 Seraphine

Chapter 27 Seraphine

Sera didn't even notice the monster until Ransom tackled it in mid-air. She thought he was charging at her, readying the final death blow, but then he leaped right over her head and for a baffling moment it seemed he had taken flight. Then he crashed to the ground behind her, dragging the monster with him. She had stood on the edge of it all, frozen in shock. For the second time that evening, the Dagger had saved her life.

Now he was scrapping in Saint Celiana's fountain. Or perhaps dying was a more accurate term.

Sera could have left him there to drown, let him succumb to the fate he deserved. She could have turned and run from the fight, back to the Grand Versini to bolt the door and wait for the creature to lope away, sated by its kill, but something stopped her. Perhaps it was honour. Or guilt. Or some other more dangerous feeling she did not wish to confront.

But as she watched Ransom fight a creature three times his size, kicking and swinging even as he went down into the water, even as the monster climbed on top of him, its shadows writhing like tentacles, she was seized by a rush of empathy. She recognized that same impulse inside herself – the urge to keep swinging even as the world shoved you underwater and choked the hope from your lungs.

It was that surge of understanding, that simmering connection dragged into the light, that made her fling all sense of self-preservation aside. She gripped her necklace, begging it to protect her as she climbed into the fountain. The light flared, bleeding through her fingers as she landed in the cold water and threw herself at the monster, knocking it off Ransom. They tumbled sideways together, Sera falling face-first in the water and drenching herself from head to toe. She sprang up, stance wide and fists raised, just like Albert had taught her, but the monster had stilled. Then it fell to its knees in the middle of the fountain and tilted its hideous face up to Saint Celiana.

But – no. The monster wasn't looking at the statue. The monster was staring at… her . And the world was shining far too bright. Sera's necklace had erupted into such a blaze, it trailed along her skin, bathing her in golden light. It was a shield, an orb, a river of sunlight clinging to every inch of her.

‘What the hell…'

At the sound of her voice, the monster bowed its head. Silence fell, the water stilling around them. Ransom had stopped struggling. He was staring up at her like a corpse, the silver of his eyes returned to their warm, hazel glow.

Panic ripped through Sera as she lunged, dragging him up from the water. ‘Wake up!' she said, shaking him. ‘Breathe!'

He shuddered as he coughed up a stream of water. Relief flooded her as he retched again, reaching for the rim of the fountain. When he found it, she turned to their other problem. There was a monster in the fountain. And for some reason, it was bowing to her, as though it were waiting for some kind of command. But… was it even possible?

The bead at her throat thrummed, as if to say, Try it.

‘Look at me,' said Sera, her voice a rasp.

The monster raised its mighty head.

‘Lift your hand.'

The monster's arm rose.

Holy. Shit.

Sera stared down at the misshapen creature, trying to make out the planes of its face. The true colour of its eyes and the slant of its lips, the shape of its nose.

‘Who are you?' she whispered.

The monster groaned but it couldn't find the words, couldn't make its bloated tongue work properly. She came to her knees before it, the water climbing to her chest.

‘Who are you?' she said again.

The monster closed its eyes, pressing its face forward. Sera reached for it without thinking, compelled by the need to peel away the shadows and find the wounded thing within. When she touched its face, the teardrop at her throat flared again, bathing both of them in its golden light.

‘Fall away,' she whispered, not to the monster, but to the darkness that had mangled it.

The monster moaned, its face appearing through a haze of shadows. Its limbs shrank, its spine cracking as it untwisted. Slowly, painfully, the monster became a man. He was older than Sera was expecting. Grizzled and red-faced, with wide frightened eyes. He shuddered violently as the last of Mama's poison left his body. Sera knew then that he wouldn't survive. The Lightfire was his reprieve, but it was not going to save him. Too much time had passed. Nothing could save him now. By the look in his eyes, he knew it too, and he grasped for the bead at her throat, silently begging to be put out of his misery.

‘It's all right,' she whispered, even though it wasn't. She took his hands, curling them inside her own. ‘It's over now.'

The air hummed as the tiny bead of Lightfire fought those final tendrils of darkness. And then, at last, it was over. The man collapsed in the water just as Sera's necklace exploded. She grasped at the shattered teardrop as the force knocked her backwards.

She was unconscious before her head hit the water, and when it did, she sank like a stone.

Eons passed in the cold, wet dark. The Lightfire was gone, the teardrop cracked and wasted, and now there was nothing but blackness. No fear, nor thoughts. No voice. No breath.

But then – there was touch. Warm hands cupping her face. ‘Seraphine?' Her name in his mouth, soft and searching. ‘Can you hear me?'

She opened her eyes. Ransom was kneeling over her, the stars making a silver halo around his head. His dark hair was plastered to his face, and there were droplets sliding down his cheeks. He was soaked through, the remains of his shirt now clinging to his skin, the tears revealing the black whorls across his chest. His eyes were the colour of autumn, flickering between green and gold.

Sera blinked, half-wondering if she had died in that fountain, only to awaken in this strange afterlife where the Dagger that haunted her was a man capable of concern. A man soaked to the bone and handsome as hell.

‘There you are.' His voice was hoarse, his lips twitching. ‘Enjoying the view?'

Her eyelids fluttered as she searched for her sanity. ‘You're touching me.'

‘Just trying to restore your pulse.' He trailed a finger down her neck, kept it there. And smirked. ‘It's racing.'

‘Hands off the Cloak.' Her head spun as she tried to sit up. The sight of him kneeling over her practically half-naked was nearly enough to make her pass out again. ‘And close your damn shirt.'

His chuckle warmed the space between them. ‘So, you're fine, then.'

She glowered at him, hoping he couldn't see the heat rising in her cheeks. Three times tonight, she had faced death. Three times he had saved her. And this time, he had the nerve to do it looking like that. ‘I'm not dead.'

‘No.'

‘Why?'

‘Maybe Saint Oriel has a thing for you.' A half-smile. ‘You do have a talent for cheating death.'

‘Not death,' she said, quietly. ‘You.'

He chewed on his bottom lip, nipping at that bone-white scar, like he couldn't fathom it himself. But after what they had just done for each other, without thought or explanation, she was beyond fearing him. Now she wanted to know him. To know what he wanted.

‘Why did you ask me to burn you back there?' she said.

He dropped his gaze to the hollow of her throat, then her closed fist, which held her shattered necklace. ‘Your magic is an antidote,' he said, quietly. ‘It erases my shadow-marks.'

‘Oh.' Of all the things she was expecting him to say… Slowly, she trailed her gaze over those inky marks, lingering on the ones that wreathed his wrists and curled around his fingers, staining hands like those of an artist. Then she moved to the whorls on his chest, his shoulders, the strong column of his neck. Her throat was painfully dry, her heartbeat roaring in her ears, but she managed to say, ‘And you want them gone?'

‘Yes,' he said, with undisguised desperation. ‘All of them.'

‘Are they very painful?'

He nodded. ‘In more ways than one.'

Understanding bloomed inside her. All these weeks, the Dagger hadn't just been seeking her. He was seeking freedom from himself, from all the terrible things he had done.

It was too late. The Lightfire was spent, the glass cracked inside her fist. But her skin was still glowing faintly, and she wondered if there was a kernel of that magic still inside her somewhere.

She sat up, closing the last sliver of space between them. ‘I'm going to touch you now.'

His eyelids lowered, the word a whisper on his lips. ‘ Please .'

She watched the breath swell in his chest as she slowly moved her hand to his cheek, touching him like she had the monster in the fountain. His skin was surprisingly warm, strands of his damp hair brushing against her fingers. She willed them not to tremble.

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.

The moment stretched until there was only this touch, this precious kernel of hope flickering between them. It was not enough. The Lightfire was gone, and when Sera lowered her gaze, the marks on his body remained.

‘I'm sorry,' she whispered. ‘It's too late.'

He hummed in response, then turned slightly, pressing a kiss to her palm.

Sera's heart stuttered. His lips were cool, but the soft press of them against her damp skin lit a fire inside her that devoured all thought.

He opened his eyes, finding hers. ‘Thank you for trying.'

Sera swallowed, searching for words… forgetting how to form them.

‘SERA? WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?' Val's voice cut through the night.

With remarkable speed, the rest of the world crashed back in. Sera dropped her hand, pulling away from Ransom. He rolled back to his feet, downing a vial of Shade in one gulp as Val and Bibi came clattering across the square. He turned from Sera without another word, lifting the dead body from the fountain and cradling it to his chest like it was no heavier than a sack of grain. By the time Sera had got to her feet, he was already gone.

She stared after him as Val and Bibi rushed to meet her, so preoccupied by the phantom kiss on her one palm that she barely noticed the stinging in the other one. Then she opened her fist to examine the cracked bead inside it. She knew there wasn't a drop of Lightfire left, but she wasn't expecting to find something else inside the glass. It was a miniscule curl of parchment.

As her friends crowded around her, terror-struck and panting, Sera unfurled the note and held it up to the moonlight, squinting to make out the tiny, smeared handwriting. Her heart thudded painfully as she realized what it was – Mama's final message:

The monsters bow to the power of Lightfire. Become the flame and destroy the dark, Seraphine.