15. Cassandra

CASSANDRA

Lycans, a type of werewolf, drop down from the skeletal trees and charge us. They’re too fast for me to count and Kasar never slows. Gunfire comes from above, but only one falls to bullets. The trio of vampires we’d ridden with are dark blurs as they leap towards the rushing creatures and slam into their targets midair.

Malachi’s SUV rushes in beside us, Kasar moving over enough to let him in. The ride turns bumpy, two tires off the smooth asphalt. Ambrose lowers his window, a large handgun in hand. I slap my hands over my ears as the loud cracks reverberate through the SUV.

Gods above and below, modern battles are horrible. Tremors rattle me more than the rough ride and I grit my teeth. I remind myself that I’ve been through plenty of fights, even if it was Eris who was in control of my body at the time. I refuse to give into the fear urging me to hide on the floor between the seats.

“We’ve got Lycans in the front,” Malachi’s voice is unruffled in my ear. “Lan?”

“The same,” the other vampire responds after a moment. “They weren’t expecting us to move in on foot or approach on multiple fronts—” his voice cuts off with a grunt, then snide insults. “I hate fucking Lycans.”

“We’re approaching the front,” Kasar says, still not slowing. I hadn’t noticed Malachi moving in front of us. “Coming in hot.”

“If you’ve got something to shield yourself with, witch, I suggest you do so quickly,” Ambrose says, holstering his handgun at his side. He draws the two bone-hilted blades that have been with him since he was human. “Stay close, but out of our way. Understood?”

I don’t have time to respond as the tires squeal as Kasar cranks the wheel to the right, sending us sliding across the pavement of the drive. I throw my hands out, grasping the back of both seats to keep myself from tumbling over. I should have buckled myself in again once I scooted over, a disconnected part of me thinks.

Kasar turns the SUV off and then he’s out, opening my door while keeping his eyes trained on the front double doors. Ambrose is out too, going around the front, matching a jackal shifter’s growl with one of his own.

Kasar fires towards the now open doorway, where more jackals bolt out. They’re shifters, so their canine forms are massive, and there seems to be an entire pack.

“Cassandra.” Kasar’s sharp tone snaps me out from the freeze. I grip the pendant at my neck, a simple stone carved with runes but humming with Darcelle’s power. A mental twist and I crack open the magical shell. The magic wraps around me, a protective coating that tingles against my skin. Darcelle said it wouldn’t stop bullets or a shifter’s physical attacks completely, but it’ll protect me from all but the most powerful of magical assaults.

I hurry out of the car, keeping behind the opened door until Kasar pulls me forward. I stay behind him, like I’d been told, crouching down to make myself as small of a target as possible. Ambrose is in front of us, along with Malachi and the vampire, Grant. They’re flanking their sire, clearing a path in the jackals for Kasar and me to advance through.

“Can you get a sense on his location?” Kasar asks, cool and unbothered by the savage shifters doing their best to get to us.

I don’t close my eyes, but I focus hard on Ashe’s and my mating bond. It’s still closed off, limiting my ability to accurately find him. Unless he opens the bond, all I have is a general sense that he’s within proximity of me. No direction, no glimpse of his location, nothing but the knowledge that my mate still lives.

“Not yet.” I stick close to Kasar as we finally make it through the double doors. The entry foyer is markedly different than it was hours ago. The once pristine marble floors are now splattered with blood, the red bright against the white stone in the light. Some of the credenzas are pushed out of place, while another has crumbled under a blow. One of the oil paintings hangs askew on the wall but is otherwise untouched. The one beside it hasn’t fared as well, with the canvas curling apart where claws have gouged through it.

Behind us, the sounds of snarls and gunfire echo into the spacious hall. I move to the wall, backing myself against it and hunching down as fear lacerates me. Goddess, I hate violence. Even when Eris was using my body, I hated the muted experience of her in fights and taking lives.

Eris appears at the top of the velveteen-covered grand staircase, not a speck of blood on her. Ambrose and Kasar force the front doors closed, leaving Malachi and the other vampires to finish the remaining shifters. The stench of blood and death clogs my nose and I press the back of my hand to my mouth. I refuse to be sick.

“They’re not in here,” Eris says and begins to stride down the stairs towards us. Rather than looking annoyed, she looks like the cat who got the canary. Or, considering the familiar box tucked against her side, the demon who got the angel. “He’s close, though. He wouldn’t run without trying to get this.”

The heels of her black boots clacking against the floor somehow cut through the sounds of struggle we’d barricaded out. She walks towards Ambrose adjusting until she has the miniature ark in both hands. Kasar keeps a shoulder against one of the doors, pistol in hand. His body is loose but in the same way a predator is, prepared to strike without hesitation at the slightest provocation.

I push away from the wall, stepping over the limp leg of a dead jackal. I wince when I step in a puddle of blood and it squelches as I almost slip. Now is not the time to be clumsy. I reach the two of them as Eris flips the lid open.

“Are we certain this is the right soul?” Ambrose asks, the skepticism dripping from his words. “It seems rather. . . ill-advised to have left such a vital part of him unguarded.”

Eris laughs; it’s almost a cackle and the sound sends gooseflesh over my arms.

“It is the right soul,” Eris assures us. She trails one chartreuse green nail along the heart. It doesn’t give the same way a real heart would. It’s almost uncomfortable to look at it, so wrong it is. “Our mating bond may have withered, but only death will truly sever it.”

“Then is it trapped?” I ask, prodding it with my magic. “It doesn’t seem to be.”

“I told you,” Eris says as she scoops the heart-shaped soul from the box and tosses the gilded container to the side without care. “Aeternaphiel is beyond arrogant, while also being completely unwilling to allow others with a semblance of power around him. The wards you tore through were haphazardly repaired with a patchwork spell. Even when I worked at his side, Aeternaphiel believed in his intellectual superiority to the degree of fallacy. If he left this here, it’s because he truly did not believe you would make it to the room.”

Ambrose and I share a look, questioning what could have made the archangel so certain. Then we both scan the room, searching for anything out of place.

“There’s nothing magically. Just the wards I felt earlier.” I focus and push further across the house. I send my magic in a flurry of tendrils, searching for any trap or danger we may have missed.

Ambrose’s eyes are focused, no doubt searching his own senses. His nostrils flare and my gaze snaps to him.

“Do you smell that?” he asks Kasar. His top enforcer takes a deep breath, furrowing his brows as he concentrates.

“It’s slight, but there,” Kasar agrees and gestures for me to go to him.

“What is it?” I ask, hurrying over, my heart starting to race again.

Ambrose is the one who answers, “An accelerant. Magical in nature. We need to get the fuck out of here.”

Kasar wrenches the door open and we’re greeted with a gruesome sight. Dead Lycans and jackals litter the ground, with a dozen bloodied vampires standing over them. It’s a scene straight from modern horror movies, with some of the vampires casually finishing off the dying guards. Malachi appears before us, a cut from his left eyebrow crosses the bridge of his nose and continues to his right jaw.

“What is it?” he asks, ignoring the wound. “Where’s Ashe?”

“Not here,” Ambrose answers and starts to cross the viscera-covered drive. “And the place is set to go up in flames. We haven’t determined the trigger, so we need to fall back.”

Malachi relays the message, the gathered vampires falling back into the dark meadow between the trees. Kasar and Malachi each get into an SUV, driving them off the pavement and into the manicured grass, following the others.

Ambrose takes me by the arm, gently but forcibly pulling me with him until we’re on the soft grass ourselves. We turn, looking back, as Eris saunters through the battered doorway, the heart containing Aeternaphiel’s soul still in hand.

“I imagine it’s in case this happens.” She takes a large step over the threshold, and the air seems to vacate the space around us. The next moment, the air returns as an electric rush. Blue-green fire ignites at the foundation of the house, speeding along the outside. From the flickering lights in the windows, the fire’s been unleashed along every wall.

Worse, a line of flames spread out from the double doors, containing Eris in a semi-circle. It’s not a protective circle, but I don’t recognize the magic. From Eris’s bark of laughter, I imagine Aeternaphiel once again made a stupid choice.

Rather than stepping across the flames, she raises the heart as if in toast. Then she brings it to her mouth, her jaw distending, opening wide. I watch with wide eyes as she swallows it whole.

Her head remains tilted back, eyes closed as if savoring the taste. Then she opens her eyes, gaze landing on me, and strides towards me. The flames part for her, never growing close.

Her eyes are bright with determination. “I know where they are.”