Chapter 40 Seraphine

Chapter 40 Seraphine

As night fell, Sera stepped out of the back door of House Armand. A canopy of clouds blotted out the rising moon and thunder grumbled across the city as though the saints knew what she was about to do. She couldn't tell if the storm was urging her on or warning her to turn back. She tried not to think about it as she embraced her friends in the garden, pressing a kiss to Bibi's cheek and squeezing Val's hand.

‘Are you sure you're still up for this?'

‘Surer than sure,' said Bibi, tightening the straps on her satchel. ‘We'll see you at the Aurore.'

‘For our great blaze of glory,' added Val, with a wink.

Sera smiled at her friends, ignoring her guilt. She hadn't told them about her plans for Dufort because she didn't want to worry them. And maybe, deep down, she was afraid they'd try and talk her out of it.

She turned to Theo, catching the worry on his face before he masked it with an easy smile. He stepped in, adjusting the hood of her Lightfire cloak. ‘Time to become the flame, Sera,' he said, using her mother's words to strengthen her. ‘Are you ready?'

She drew a steadying breath, relaxing into the brush of magic against her skin. She felt it reaching down inside her, warming the furthest depths of her soul.

‘I'm ready,' she said.

Theo took her hand, folding a fistful of magical pearls inside it. ‘Just in case.'

‘Thanks,' she said. The pearls flickered as she slipped them into one of her pockets. She had a switchblade in the other. Another just in case . ‘See you soon.'

Once she cleared the boundary of House Armand, she didn't look back. She marched on, into the dark heart of the Hollows. From there, she headed west, shattering the night as she went. Under the heaving sky, the city was darker than ever, but her cloak shone out like a light, guiding her through the deserted streets to the place where the monsters gathered.

By the time Sera reached the harbour, her heart was pounding in her chest. The sky growled and the wind stirred, carrying the odour of seaweed across the square. She stood at the end of the pier, where the reflection of her cloak shone back at her from the black water.

There were monsters here. She could feel them.

‘Come out,' she whispered into the night.

Another gust cast her hood back, as lightning forked down into the sea. Her hair tangled across her face, momentarily blinding her. She heard the water surge. It churned and thrashed as the deep answered her plea. Hands broke through the surface, followed by hunched shoulders, twisted arms and hulking bodies. The long dock creaked as it took the weight.

Her cloak flared as the monsters emerged, one after another after another. Each one was impossibly horrifying and utterly unique, a cursed creature mangled by poison and Shade. Mangled by Mama. They were groaning, hungry… suffering . As Sera stood among them, she felt their anguish sweeping over her like a scream.

Her stomach turned as they crawled towards her. She pressed her palm against her pocket, feeling the ridge of the pearls inside. Her switchblade wouldn't buy her much time against a monster, but if her cloak failed, the pearls might end up being the difference between life and death. She hoped it wouldn't come to that. The monsters crushed and fought each other in their thirst for magic, snapping jaws of needle teeth. She pulled her cloak tighter, fighting the urge to turn and flee.

‘Stop!' she called out.

The monsters froze. Some dangled from the pier, mid-climb. Others halted less than ten feet from her, their silver eyes wide and unblinking. Just like that monster in Saint Celiana's fountain, they were waiting, all of them, for her command.

Power swelled inside Sera, fast and warm and dizzying. As her cloak shone out across the docks, she scanned the pier. There were forty or so monsters down here, and more skulking under the water. There would be others stalking the streets of Fantome, floating in the river, hiding in the sewers.

‘Heel!' she cried.

The pier creaked as the monsters bowed, pressing their misshapen skulls to the wooden slats. Her jaw tightened as she stood before them, glowing like a saint. Seraphine Marchant, Saint of Monsters. She could almost hear Mama's laughter on the wind. Sera was so giddy she almost laughed too. Her cloak tingled along her skin, sharing in the unexpected trill of amusement.

It was so different to being cloaked in Shade – that strange heaviness that laced her bones and the headache that always lingered after she removed it. The cloak of Lightfire warmed her. Its magic nestled in her blood, sharing the swell of her emotions as though this strange, ancient power belonged inside her just as surely as her bones did. It stoked her confidence, telling her she could easily command this sea of monsters. That it was as simple as breathing.

‘Come with me!' she called out, adrenaline making her bounce on the balls of her feet. The thud of lumbering footsteps followed her back across the pier. Two feet, then four, then so many it sounded like a fleet of wagons were trundling up the dock behind her. Sera sneaked a glance over her shoulder and saw bloated silver eyes flickering in the night.

Her lips spread into a slow smile.

The plan was working. The monsters were following her.

She looked north, to where the Aurore pierced the belly of a low-hanging storm cloud. The others would be there soon, but first, Seraphine and her monsters had a date with the devil of Fantome.

She walked on and the monsters followed, away from the sea and into the heart of the city. As she went, more emerged from the lost alleys of Fantome, crawled up through sewers and dropped from the rooftops, falling into line behind her.

Soon, there were over a hundred creatures at her back, and their numbers kept growing.

She crossed the Verne and broke into a run, eager to be on the other side of this night, but when she neared Old Haven, her feet got heavier, slower. As she steeled herself for her final showdown with Gaspard Dufort, an old, festering fear emerged. It sat like a thorn in her chest, pricking at the thrall of her magic. Her cloak dimmed, responding to her dread.

She pushed on, refusing to be afraid. She was no longer a little girl cowering under the kitchen table while her parents screamed at each other, flinching as her father flung everything he could at the wall. She was a woman now, a living flame of power and vengeance, and she was done hiding.

Soon, only a handful of cobbled streets separated Sera from the entrance to Hugo's Passage. Dufort would be waiting there, led up the steps like a lamb to slaughter. In a matter of minutes, it would all be over, her father sacrificed to her mother's swarm of monsters, and his reign of terror at an end. Freedom waited just up ahead. Freedom at last…

Then the wind changed.

The air rippled as a shadow dropped from a nearby rooftop, and suddenly Ransom was before her. He landed in the middle of the narrow street, rising from a crouch with predatory grace. Dressed all in black and with those glittering silver eyes, he looked like a demon that had crawled straight out of hell.

Sera skidded to a stop. Twenty feet behind her, the monsters reared up at the sight of new prey. Her hand shot up. ‘Fall back!'

The monsters froze mid-lurch. For a moment, it seemed like the entire city had fallen under a spell, but Ransom was still moving, closing the space between them in six strides.

Unease coiled in her gut. ‘Where's Dufort?' she said, her eyes darting around.

‘We have to wait, Seraphine.' His own eyes moved from her flaming cloak to the swarm of monsters at her back. A muscle ticced in his jaw but if he was afraid, it didn't show. ‘Things have changed. I'm sorry. I need another week. Two, at the most.'

She blinked at him. ‘Have you lost your mind? I've just dragged an army of monsters into Old Haven! It's too late, Ransom.'

He held his ground, his feet planted. ‘I can't bring him to you,' he said, voice strained. ‘Not yet.'

Sera flinched at the sting of his betrayal, but she was angrier at herself. It was her own fault for trusting a Dagger in the first place. For pouring her heart out to him and expecting him to care, for tricking herself into believing there was something real between them.

‘Then get out of my way,' she said, hardening her voice. ‘I'll go get him myself.'

Ransom didn't move. She tried to arc around him, but he slid in front of her. His hands curled into fists, and she wondered if he was thinking about throttling her, weighing his odds against her cloak of Lightfire and the army of monsters halfway down the street.

‘Don't do anything rash,' he said in a low voice.

She spluttered a laugh. ‘Look behind me, Ransom. We are way past rash.' Even without turning around, she could feel the monsters watching them, straining against her command to wait. Seeing the tightness in his jaw, she knew he could feel it too.

‘You can't kill Dufort yet,' he said. ‘He has something I need.'

‘Then run home and kiss his feet.' Her cloak flickered at the hiss of her anger. ‘Better yet, why don't I go with you?'

‘Spitfire,' he said, a warning in his voice.

‘Ransom, move .'

He flexed his fingers, shadows uncoiling from the nearby streetlamps. ‘Do you truly expect me to let you rampage through Hugo's Passage and get yourself killed?'

‘Worry about your friends, Dagger. I'm the one with an army of monsters.'

His shadows struck, curling around her arms, her waist. They snapped immediately, her cloak searing them into nothing.

‘Good effort,' she said, shoving past him.

‘Fuck it.' He lunged, grabbing her waist and spinning her into a nearby alley. Darkness swallowed them, the rest of the world falling away in a moment. By the time he released her, the silver in his eyes had softened. He heaved a breath, pinning her between his arms, a position that had become all too familiar to her. ‘Listen to me. Dufort is looking for my family, Seraphine. He's enlisted the king's scouts. I need more time.'

She stared up at him in utter horror. ‘Oh, Ransom,' she said, her anger dissolving into pity. ‘You can't possibly believe that.'

He frowned. ‘He has nothing to gain from it.'

She might have laughed if she didn't care so much about Dufort's clever little lie, how it was delaying her grand plan to flick him off the face of the earth. ‘Doesn't he?'

Ransom's frown deepened, even as he shook off her words. ‘I can't take the chance,' he whispered. ‘What if it's real?'

‘Dufort's words are never real, Ransom. His promises are as empty as his soul.' Sera huffed, fighting the urge to shake some damn sense into him. She understood now why he had reneged on his promise to her, and even in the depths of her frustration, she didn't begrudge him that fool's hope. But that didn't mean she would share in his delusion. She had her own promises to keep.

She raised her chin, meeting the determination in his gaze with her own. He loomed over her, so tall and broad in the narrow passage, and yet, he was no match for even one of Sera's monsters. They were barely a stone's throw from the mouth of the alley, waiting for her next order. She could destroy him with a single word, and they both knew it.

She didn't want to hurt him.

‘Ransom,' she said, gently bracing her hands against his chest. He closed his eyes, shuddering as she shredded his Shade. He let her do it, wavering perhaps over his own foolish decision to trust Dufort, or simply unwilling to raise a hand to hurt her. He softened into her touch, and she could have pushed him away with ease, but she didn't.

Death waited around the corner. And with it, pain and grief and the sharp edge of revenge. It could wait a little longer. He laid his forehead against hers, as if he was having the same thought. Slowly, she moved her palms up his chest, twining her fingers in the collar of his shirt. He looked down at her beneath a veil of dark lashes, and something inside her came undone. She had never seen such raw, undisguised need.

His words were all gravel. ‘How many minutes do you want, Seraphine?'

‘As many as you can spare.'

He brushed his nose against hers. ‘How about eternity?'

She laughed as he trailed his finger along her jaw, lifting her mouth to taste the sound. She rose on tiptoes and he moaned as the last of his Shade dissolved on her lips. She tasted the ash of it on his tongue as she opened her mouth to him. His arm tightened around her waist, the other cupping the nape of her neck as he crushed his lips against hers. She arched into him, sealing every inch of space between their bodies. Desire raged through her blood, chasing the rush of Lightfire.

‘ Fuck, ' he hissed, between ragged breaths.

She pulled back, and beneath the glow of her cloak she saw that the shadow-mark on his collarbone was fading. She traced the skin there. ‘Does it hurt?'

‘ Yes .' He traced his thumb along her bottom lip, his pupils so dilated she could see her own reflection in them. ‘But don't stop.'

He kissed her again, his tongue moving slow and deep as he chased that agonizing pleasure. She met his hunger with her own, letting him drink from her magic like a man dying of thirst.

He slid his hands into her hair, their bodies melding as he pushed her up against the wall. She threw her arms around his neck, her hood falling back as she surrendered to her wild, growing need. She nipped his bottom lip and he swore, tipping her head back to take her mouth again. He laved her tongue, savouring the kiss. Savouring her.

It wasn't nearly enough. Sera wanted to rip his clothes off, to drag him down to the damp cobblestones, to taste every inch of his skin and lick the shadow-marks away one by one. The need to have more of him – to have all of him – was brutal.

He pulled back to kiss her neck, gently grazing her skin with his teeth. Her blood sang as he nipped and sucked there, marking her, before chasing the bite with his tongue. Sera's thoughts spun away from her as some frantic, baser part of her took control. She dropped her hand to the waistband of his trousers, pressing against the hardness she found there. His gasp dissolved into a low groan.

She palmed him through his clothes as he turned her cheek to the wall and traced the shell of her ear with his tongue. His other hand roamed under the folds of her cloak and then her sweater to find the swell of her breasts. He made a noise of ragged approval, thumbing her until she was limp in his arms. He took her mouth again, the hot brush of his tongue stoking the primal fire inside her.

She moved her hand faster, his breath shallowing as he braced himself against the wall.

‘ Fuck ,' he grunted, pressing his knee between her legs to pin her there. He tore his other hand from her breasts, trailing his fingers along the bare skin of her midriff. Her cloak flickered, echoing her anticipation, and as his fingers dipped beneath her waistband she became vaguely aware that they were glowing now like twin flames.

She bucked her hips – grinding out a plea – and he chuckled against her lips. His fingers slipped lower, and he stifled a groan when he found her already wet for him. She cried out as he pushed deeper.

‘ Good , spitfire.'

She was so close already, she dropped her head to the crook of his neck, silently begging him to finish her. His fingers moved deeper, in a slow rhythm, his tongue expertly working her ear as he wrenched a string of moans from her.

She whimpered against his shoulder, her breath stuttering as she rode his hand. ‘Ransom…' she gasped. ‘I'm… going to…'

‘ Yes, ' he growled. ‘Give it to me.'

His command was her undoing. She shattered in his arms. Biting down on his shoulder as she fell apart, she buried her cries in his skin. He held her tight against him, his breath rough on her cheek as he watched her ride the swell of her pleasure. Her blood roared with ecstasy, the light from her cloak erupting and flooding the alleyway like a sunrise.

At the sound of his jagged gasp, she raised her head. His eyes were closed, his face slack with pleasure. She could still trace the hardness of him where they were pressed together. As he slipped his hand from her waistband, she saw that his knuckles were absent of shadow-marks. She grabbed the other hand, examining his wrist and forearm. There wasn't a single whorl left.

Her cloak – her pleasure – had obliterated every single one of them.

When she looked up at him, he was smiling at her, a faint dazed look in his eyes.

‘I can't believe they're gone,' she whispered.

He only stared at her, as if she was the most precious thing he had ever seen. A slant of sunlight breaking through a storm. A lone star in a cloud-swept night.

He blinked the haze from his eyes. ‘Run away with me, Seraphine.'

Her breath caught. ‘W-what?'

‘Run away with me,' he said, with devasting simplicity. ‘Tonight. Tomorrow. Yesterday. I don't care.' He gently brushed the hair from her eyes. ‘We have the same dream. Let's chase it together.'

Sera's heart thundered at his words, as if it was trying to crash through her chest to answer them. But in the afterglow of her pleasure, reality was filtering back in. She tugged her top down and pulled her cloak around her, trying to stop herself from screaming yes! to the man who had just made her shatter into pieces. She had a cloak of flame and an army of monsters and a plan to save the whole damn city, and she was standing in an alleyway with a Dagger and seriously considering pissing it all away.

She had to finish what she had started tonight. She had to go. She had to ask him to wait for her.

Then another shape dropped from the darkness, and Ransom's warning shout sounded just a moment too late. The blow came from behind, the force so blinding it knocked all thought from Sera's mind and sent her spiralling into blackness.