11. Cassandra

CASSANDRA

My scream is captured in my throat as a massive hand curls around it and lifts me off the floor. My instincts were right. Something had been lying in wait for any would-be thieves. The creature turns me to face it, a beast’s snarl sending goosebumps rippling across my skin. The most primal part of me quakes in terror, knowing I’m in the claws of a dangerous predator.

I grasp its wrist, thoughts blanking out as I meet familiar red-tinted golden eyes. I’m becoming lightheaded, his grip too tight to allow even the smallest of breaths. A part of me rebels at who has me in his grip, while the logical part of me knows I’m not so lightheaded to be imagining things.

Aeternaphiel’s rumored guardian is a male I’ve considered one of my best friends, a chosen brother.

Ashe’s snarl tears through my confused, blank thoughts a moment before he slams into the half-demon, half-vampire.

Ezra releases me and I collapse on the floor, my hand going to my bruised throat. I blink back the tears burning my eyes, coughing as I try to gulp in desperate lungfuls of air. I’m still struck dumb, unable to do anything but watch Ashe fight a male who should be a brother. Ezra had been a Nightshade, and even though I wasn’t there when it happened, I know the demon vampire had been banished after taking the soul of a mortal.

Eris had tried to find him in the months following Ambrose’s declaration but could never find a trace of him.

This Ezra is nothing like the male I knew.

In place of Ezra’s easy smile is a savage baring of fangs; his once short black hair now reaches his shoulders in an unkempt mess of tangles. His striking face is gaunt and hollow, his cheekbones too prominent, his jaw too sharp. His skin is pale, pale enough to see the blue veins spiderwebbing underneath. He wears nothing except pants that are ragged and faded with age, the waistband hanging precariously from bony hips.

The ferocity that Ezra battles with against Ashe belies his emaciated appearance. His red-gold eyes have nearly no pupil, the black so small to almost be unseen. Even a human could tell Ezra isn’t right.

“Ezra!” I try to shout, wincing as my bruised throat protests. It comes out more as a croak, but neither vampire seems to notice. I push up off my knees and get to my feet, my dress tangling between my knees. “Ashe, something’s wrong with him!”

“No shit,” my mate snarls in response, grappling with Ezra. I don’t take offense to the sharp tone and take a step forward, as if to try to do something—anything to get them to separate. Ashe whips his head towards me, his golden eyes ringed thick with the red of rage. “Stay back!”

The warning cost my mate his advantage, and Ezra takes him to the floor with a resounding crash. There’s no way the guards didn’t hear that.

Goddess, I wish I’d insisted on getting one of those earpieces Ashe had. We need backup, but I’ve got no way to contact Malachi or Rhys.

I leap out of the way as Ashe rolls with Ezra, and I realize Ashe isn’t trying to kill the former Nightshade vampire. Ezra, though, isn’t holding back. He fights Ashe with a viciousness that terrifies me, a part of me afraid Ezra will kill my mate.

“Ezra, it’s me. Cassandra,” I call, forcing my voice louder. Pain laces my vocal cords, but I shove it aside. I have to get through to him. I have to. “You’re my brother. Please, snap out of it! Remember, Ez?”

The nickname slips out, and the moment it does, Ashe freezes. His eyes flick towards me, wide with a realization I miss. Ezra doesn’t hesitate and takes the opening to flip Ashe and slam a fist into the side of Ashe’s temple.

“Ashe!” I scream. Ezra wraps an arm around Ashe’s neck and starts to squeeze. I move forward, a spell already forming on my tongue. Using magic will alert Aeternaphiel if he hasn’t realized something was wrong by now. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.

Ashe bucks his hips, sending Ezra off of him and flying into a side table with a floral arrangement. The porcelain vase shatters and water splashes against the wall while flowers tumble around the demon vampire.

My mate is on his feet in an instant, gliding between me and the male we once considered a brother, a snarl on his face.

“No point in subtlety,” Ashe says, never taking his eyes off the slowly rising Ezra. The demon vampire flicks out his arms to shake off the water dripping down him. His eyes find me over Ashe’s shoulder. Instinctively, I fall back a step. There is no recognition in those eyes, no familiar intelligence.

Horror echoes through me. “What have they done to him?”

“Cassandra!” Ashe’s sharp tone breaks me from my frozen thoughts. “Get in the damn room. Reinforcements are coming.”

Goddess! I whirl towards the door, concentration furrowing my brows as I slap my hands against the warded door. The air stirs around me a moment before I hear Rhys’ familiar deep tenor cursing. I don’t let myself get distracted. If I stop to think about how Rhys must feel to see his brother in this condition, I’ll be the reason this mission fails.

I close my eyes, forcing everything around me to disappear until only the pulsating magical barrier is clear.

It’s rigid; the magic reminds me of the strict architecture and diagrams my family and old coven revolved around. The side of my lip curls up in a satisfied smirk and I curl my fingers as if I can grip the very wards themselves. If I’d wrestled my magic into the inflexible obedience like my family had wanted, I’d despair at the complexity before me.

According to their beliefs, I would need to locate the source of each ward spell and dismantle it piece by piece. It’d take hours—hours we don’t have.

Instead, I let my wild magic free. In my mind’s eye, my magic twists and writhes as it flows from my fingertips. My magic morphs between snakes and briar vines as it ignores the wards entirely. Instead, my magic wends between the wards, slipping between the infinitesimal spaces. In the eternity between heartbeats, my magic encases and penetrates the established wards.

It’s crass, uncontrolled, a maelstrom of chaos that electrifies me as I command the magic to destroy the wards. The fine hairs on my nape raise; my fingers vibrate with energy; the smell of ozone fills my nose.

I curl my fingers, imagining taking fistfuls of the latticework wards and my own strangling magic. I wrench my hands down and back, tearing the wards apart and down. The magic doesn’t stand a chance. Not against mine which is as wild and overwhelming as nature always intended. The dissipation of the wards crackle in my mind as well as in my ears.

I keep tearing at the magic, my own vines gripping the failing wards in a vice.

When the door is finally clear, the wards spark and flutter in my mind’s eye. I shudder, my head falling back, as I pull my magic back within my skin. It curls around my bones, settling down with its own sense of satisfaction.

The wall explodes next to the door, and I drop into a crouch, my arms thrown over my head.

Looking back over my shoulder, I struggle against the fear threatening to paralyze me. Rhys is struggling against a berserking Ezra; he’s holding back, but Ezra has no such restraint. My mate is facing off with five human guards, each of them with a gun in hand. Somewhere, Ashe has gotten his own gun, and there are a few bodies on the floor behind the standing guards.

Then Aeternaphiel appears at the end of the hall, fury twisting his angelic face into something monstrous.

“Stop them!” he bellows, and more guards charge towards Ashe.

As if reading my thoughts, Ashe and Rhys both snarl at me. I pull my magic back from where it’d drifted towards them before I realized it.

“We’ve got this,” Rhys grits out, dodging another blow from Ezra. “Get inside and kill the damn soul so we can get the fuck out of here.”

I choke on a sob as Ashe jerks awkwardly. Blood blooms on his left shoulder but my mate leaps forward and sinks his fangs into the guard who’d shot him. I throw myself against the door, shocked that it’s unlocked. Apparently, Aeternaphiel believed the wards and Ezra were security enough. Shoving the door open, I stumble into the room. A furious roar shakes the walls around me, and I slam the door closed before ordering my magic to wrap around the door and keep it sealed. Only Ashe or Rhys will be able to open it through the magic.

The part of me Eris clings to whispers caution. Aeternaphiel is powerful enough to tear through my wards like parchment.

Moreso, she urges me forward. The vessel is here. We both sense it. The room around me is overwhelming.

The room is a treasure trove, and my magic churns at the magical artifacts and riches scattered throughout the space. Ancient tomes, large jewels, and brilliant weapons are polished and arranged tastefully. I can’t help but pause, my fingers trailing reverently over a book older than my coven, older than the modern languages.

But Eris pushes me forward. The vessel is here.

At the back of the room, a dark cabinet is tucked into the corner. It’s simple, elegant lines and dark wood blending into the shadows. I’m drawn to it, my pulse racing, as I cross the room.

With sure hands, I open the double doors at chest height, not breathing. There, nestled in a bed of plush evergreen velvet, is a box no larger than a jewelry box. It’s gold, the ambient light reflecting off the latticed sides. On the top, two angels are carved on opposite sides, their wings outstretched towards one another.

I snort, the sound catching and scratching the back of my throat. Even Eris, whose presence is the strongest it’s been since we were attacked days ago, can’t help her humor.

Aeternaphiel, in all his hubris, has stored his soul in a damn replica of the Ark of the Covenant.

A boom against the warded door as me sobering. Eris pushes me, her presence frantic. This is what we’ve been searching for. This is where the archangel’s soul is kept, the angel who was her mentor and lover before using her and casting her out of the heavens.

My hands are steady as I remove the box. It’s heavy and I stagger forward as my breath is pulled from my chest. No, not my breath—my very essence, and Eris as well. This close to the soul, it’s as if we’ve been plunked down into a river only feet away from the edge of a massive waterfall.

Eris, unable to speak directly to me, is furious and is shoving and pushing at me. She doesn’t need to tell me to do something. My own need to survive has me moving.

I wrench the gold lid from the box, discarding it on the plush carpets without care. The pull is stronger now. There, inside the box, is a heart. Everything about it screams corruption, mottled with sickly purples and greens. It beats with stolen strength.

I hurry to the closest weapon, something I don’t even have a name for. It doesn’t matter though. It’s a blade and Eris assures me it will work. Box in one hand, I grip the ornate weapon, nearly dropping it in pain as it sears my palm.

The door shudders again, loud and brutal. My magic cries out as it’s stretched and torn. It won’t hold much longer.

I don’t hesitate, bringing the blade down and piercing the organ. At least I try to. It’s as if I’ve struck unforgiving steel. Light sears my eyes and I close them against the flash. I keep pushing, believing Eris’s fervent reassurances that it will give, so long as I don’t relent.

Pain replaces each part of my being even as I feel the soul consuming Eris and my essence.

Then, with an elastic sensation, the blade sinks into the flesh before being repelled and ripped from my hand. I fall to the floor, black spots across my vision.

Eris is gone.

Completely and utterly gone.

The door is still under assault. The blade I used is somewhere, fallen behind another treasure. I climb to my hands and knees, collecting the box and staring inside. I look for any sign that it worked, but the heart beats on and the infected appearance hasn’t changed.

My magic wails in warning, and I bolt upright, refusing to give into my spinning head. I retrieve the lid of the box, slamming it closed at the same moment the door bursts open.

I clutch the box to my chest, my heart leaping into my throat.

A furious archangel floods the room with golden light, his wrath-filled eyes focused on me.

He throws Ashe to the ground between us. He’s too still, blood splattered all over him, oozing onto the floor below him. I cry out, taking a step towards him.

A warning sound, one more ancient than this world, stops me in my tracks. I lift my eyes to the archangel.

In this moment, it doesn’t matter that I failed to destroy his soul. There’s no way I can defeat him on my own, even if he became mortal. I know this in my very being. This is a creature not from this realm, not from my world.

He pulls the light within him, tugging at the hem of his shirt and sleeves, straightening himself. He curls a lip in irritation at the sight of blood on one of his arms before appearing to dismiss it.

“You and your vampires have caused me no end of trouble,” he says. His tone is even, perhaps mildly irritated, as if we’re nothing more than an inconvenience. “This one,” he steps forward and kicks Ashe’s leg, pulling a groan from my mate, “was an idiot and stayed when the others ran. They even took my favorite play-toy with them.”

I lift my chin defiantly. “You are evil. Ezra is not a toy!”

Aeternaphiel cocks his head, his expression considering. He snorts. “Do you know I’d forgotten his name? Ambrose made such a mistake, letting a creature as unique as him out of his possession.”

“Cassandra.” Ashe’s voice is weak, and it takes every ounce of my fragile control to not go to my mate.

“Oh, I see,” Aeternaphiel says, looking down at Ashe. The vampire rolls to his front, pain contorting his face as he gets his hands and knees under him. “You two are mates. No wonder why he wouldn’t leave you.”

“Let him go,” I demand. I thrust the box out at him, meeting his blank gaze with my own fierce one. “This is what you wanted, right? Take it. We’ll leave.”

Aeternaphiel swipes the box from my hand, not bothering to inspect it. That only confirms to me that I failed to destroy the soul and turn him mortal. “Why on Earth would I allow you to leave after you’ve caused such a ruckus? Do you know how many minds I’ll have to wipe downstairs after this? Not that they have much in those minds, as it is, but it is so absolutely tedious.”

I ball my fists, desperately searching for anything I can use to keep us alive. Where are Malachi and Lan? Why haven’t the Nightshades rushed the estate?

As if following the directions of my thoughts, Aeternaphiel gives me a pitying look before setting the gold box on top of an antique table holding a stack of manuscripts. “Did you all really expect me to not recognize your mate’s true nature? That I wouldn’t recognize yours?” Aeternaphiel shakes his head, tsking. “The moment you entered my estate, I raised wards to keep any more of your kind out.”

“Then why did you wait so long?”

“I was interested in seeing what your merry little band of thieves intended,” he admits. “Though I’d expected you to be spies for that so-called king of yours. Or something more mundane, like jewelry thieves.”

Ashe begins to rise and Aeternaphiel shoves him in the side with a foot, sending him skidding across the floor and crashing into the wall. He turns his attention back to me, but all I can do is look at the male I love. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, his breathing loud enough for me to hear the wet rattle.

Aeternaphiel snaps his fingers and I look back at him. “Indulge me for a moment. Why did you come here, seeking this of all things?”

I swallow back my first response. If Eris is gone, does it really matter if I tell him? “I made a bargain with a demon. She saved us and in return, I promised to help her seek vengeance against you.”

Aeternaphiel looks at me for a long moment, a bit slack-jawed. Then he tosses his head back, laughing. He even slaps his thigh. “Oh, I’d wondered what happened to Eris after she was sent to the bowels of the celestial realm. So, she survived that little clash we had.” Dawning understanding lights his face up and my stomach lurches when he looks back at Ashe. “You’re the little bastard that stabbed me.”

“She’s gone!” I blurt out, hoping to distract him from Ashe. “Whatever you did to her, she didn’t survive it. If you don’t believe me, search my essence. I’ve been possessed by her for the last hundred and fifty years.”

Aeternaphiel considers me for a long moment, then he waves my request away. “I don’t need to, witch. I thought I could smell the stench of a second demon earlier. Seeing as it’s entirely gone now, it means I’ve finally dealt with that loose end.”

Charged silence fills the room. My heart is a war drum in my ears, drowning out everything. Aeternaphiel stands there, hands in his front pockets, looking at Ashe with consideration. It isn’t long before I break.

“What are you going to do with us?”

Aeternaphiel startles, as if he’d entirely forgotten about my presence. “You?” At my nod, he shrugs dismissively and waves at the door. “You were nothing but an innocent pawn in the schemes of Eris. Well, perhaps not entirely innocent as you bargained with a demon. But that is neither here nor there.”

My nostrils flare and foreboding scratches the back of my mind.

“And him?” I force out.

Aeternaphiel’s gaze returns to Ashe, who’s beginning to prop himself up against the wall. Ashe’s golden eyes, bloodshot and swollen, meet mine under his lashes. He’s too weak to even lift his head up. Tears burn at my eyes.

“Him?” Aeternaphiel’s tone turns gleeful. “Well, seeing as I’ve lost one pet because of him, it seems only fitting for him to take Ezra’s place.”

“No!” I protest, staggering forward, heart ripping in two.

Aeternaphiel turns an icy gaze to me. “No?” He drawls out, raising a brow. “It is that, or I kill him now. Which would you prefer?”

I swallow hard, unable to break the stone of fear in my throat.

“Go,” Ashe rasps, wet and weak. “I’ll—” He coughs and I whimper. “I’ll be fine. Go.”

I can’t leave him. How can he ask this of me? I can’t let him sacrifice himself for me.

He holds my gaze, pleading filling them. Love and desperation ripple down the bond between us. Then, horrifyingly, I understand. I understand the pain that I caused him when I saved his life at the price of my own.

Tears run down my cheeks.

“I love you,” I get out, sobbing the final word.

Ashe closes his eyes, his head lolling forward.

I run. I run from the room, unseeing from my tears. I don’t know if anyone tries to stop me. I hear nothing as I burst from the estate. As my feet fly across the grounds and through the trees.

There’s nothing but pain and terror shredding my very soul as I collapse on an asphalt road. Nothing but rage at Ashe and myself as someone lifts me into their arms. Even the pain becomes a dull sense of gray as the reality of losing my mate overwhelms everything else.

Then from the gray of desperation, I become nothing. A hollowed-out, soulless person without her mate.