It was like a spike drilled into his brain. Melkarth winced at the sound and almost lost his flight path. It was that same sense of wrongness that she was in pain.
With his erratic flight, his left wing clipped a jagged rock as he descended near the lighthouse, sending pain ripping through his shoulder.
Still, he kept soaring until he spotted Cora, standing by a railing overlooking the sea.
He swooped down, landing gracefully on the rocky ground behind her. She hadn’t even noticed the giant black dragon behind her, so intent was she on the sea. On solid land, he transformed into his fae body, regretting the change like a loss, as he always did. In his fae form, he felt the sea spray on his face, dampening his clothes. His sweater still had an enormous hole burned through it, singed on the edges.
He walked languidly toward Cora. She stood near the lighthouse, on a platform at the very edge of a cliff, the sea roiling beneath her. Cora wasn’t screaming anymore, but singing, her voice floating across the water, hair whipping about her face like she was submerged in water. He began to walk closer to her—but then he saw the tether.
He paused, staring at it, body humming with tension. It was Taru’s magic. Melkarth’s own silvery tendrils stretched toward it. The tether was a glittering silver cord, almost transparent. It stretched from Cora’s back and went high into the sky, where a deep, roiling face silently roared.
He’d pulled Taru’s magic off her before, hadn’t he? He’d healed the scars. Maybe he could destroy the tether, too.
He lifted his arm in the air, staring at the scales on the back of his hand that were already glowing blue.
But as he moved closer, something distracted him. Cora’s voice was startlingly exquisite—strong and delicate at the same time. He’d never heard anything like it. Her voice echoed like it had reached every corner of the earth and returned, carried on the back of the winds and the waves. Melkarth found himself drawn to it, slowly walking toward her, pulled in by her siren song.
He wanted to reach out to her, to call out to her, but he couldn’t speak. He could only walk, drift, like the ship heading toward the cliff face in front of them. Melkarth hadn’t even seen it until now, not until he’d gotten close enough to the edge of the cliff that he could jump off.
Oddly, he almost wanted to.
Water frothed at the base of the cliff, waves crashing into jagged rocks with immense force. Not dangerous. It was kind of beautiful, really. A dance of water and stone, an orchestra conducted by mother nature herself.
He reached the railing at the edge of the cliff and placed his hands on it. Below, he could see the way the yacht pulled ever closer to the rocks. Deep inside, he knew he was powerless to stop what was going to happen. He could only watch the ship smash into the cliff, and in fact he almost felt privileged to do so, as if to watch the destruction was some great gift from Taru himself.
Taru.
A sharp stab of anger pierced his mental clam. Thinking about that fetid sky prick granted him a sharp release—an instant of control over his own body.
When he realized what he was about to do, that his leg was already partly over the railing, he pulled himself back.
He turned to look at Cora, only it almost didn’t look like her. Her skin was the gray of a stormy sky, her eyes sunken and hollow and possessed of that same blue light he’d seen in Wren’s eyes.
Taru had her in his grasp. He was using her like a puppet, forcing her to howl across the ocean and lure ships to their cold, watery graves.
Seemed Cora had her own curse.
Anger spread through his body like a toxin. Distantly, he heard the sound of crunching fiberglass as the yacht struck the rocks, and the screams of those on board as they realized what was happening only at the very last second.
Melkarth dove toward Cora and reached for the silvery thread attaching her to the god floating in the clouds above. The cord was cold to the touch, so cold it burned his fingers as he grabbed it. But Melkarth held on anyway, willing the skin on his hands to peel away and become thick with his dragon scales.
He pulled at the cord with both hands, trying to rip it apart, but it wouldn’t give. Growling, he clamped his teeth around it and started to shred the tether with his enlarged canines. His mouth burned, his teeth felt like they could melt at any second, but he persisted, fighting through the pain to try and sever the link between Cora and Taru.
The tether finally gave with a snap. Lightning clapped around them, bolts striking the ground around Cora and Melkarth. He leapt for her and grabbed her, and his scaled wings erupted from his back. He used his body as a shield to keep the lightning from hurting her. It was an instinct; one he couldn’t understand but also couldn’t ignore. She went limp in his arms, unconscious.
Finally, the lightning stopped. He still held tight to Cora, soaked as she was, breathing in deep rasps like a wounded animal. Slowly, the mist and clouds thinned.
As Melkarth held on to her, the sun started to peek out from behind the gray. Cora was unconscious in his arms, but her skin had returned to its normal hue.
As he looked down at her, at the raindrops sliding down her skin in rivulets, he understood that they were more alike than he ever could have guessed when he first met her. And if he could pull Taru’s influence away from her … could she do the same for him?
He stood, scooping up his peach-haired outlaw. There was nothing he could do for the people who had died on the rocks below. The water had claimed their bodies. Taru had claimed their souls.
And he had a sleeping siren in his arms.
What other secrets had his little outlaw been keeping?
Chapter 30
When I woke up, I thought the sky was falling on top of me. Scrambling, struggling for air, I crawled up and along the bed, stretching my hands to try and keep the world away, until I realized where I was.
I’m in the Nathair’s bed.
What was I doing here? The room was silent, save for the gentle pulse of thunder just beyond the castle’s walls and the patter of rain against the windows nearby.
Taru had exacted his price once more. He’d turned me into the thing I hated the most. Every waking moment of my life was a fight to keep the monster at bay, to keep the siren from sliding out of my skin and calling home souls for Taru. I turned over in the bed and retched.
My hands trembled. Had I killed people? Yes, of course I had. I could feel it, that dreaded tingle that sat on the knife’s edge between euphoria and revulsion. The residual stench of their souls leaving their bodies was on me like cigarette smoke, only no amount of scrubbing would get it off me.
And yet, something had stopped me….
The door to the bedroom swung open, and Melkarth strode in, stopping as soon as he saw me. “Ah, you’re awake.”
“W-W-W-What … happened?”
“You mean the bit about you being a siren and wrecking ships in service of Taru?”
I stared at him. “How did it end? How did I get back here?”
He leaned against the wall and folded his arms, looking all too pleased with himself, given that hundreds of people had just died. “It appears I can pull Taru’s magic off you in more ways than one.”
My mouth opened and closed. “You stopped it? You can’t have. It stops when Taru wants it to stop. You can’t be more powerful than a god.”
“And yet I healed your scars, and you healed mine.” He gave a graceful shrug. “I saw a silver thread—Taru’s magic. I severed it, and when I did, you snapped out of it.”
I shook my head. “Silver thread? I’ve never seen a silver thread.”
He paused. “Probably because you’re too busy sinking ships when it happens.”
“Point taken.”
Silence hung between us, and I was desperate to know what he was thinking. On the one hand, the knights were definitely supposed to kill sirens like me, who wreaked havoc on the human world. On the other hand, he didn’t care about the Institute’s objectives.
My entire body
was still shaking. The siren calls were the only time in my life when I felt completely out of control. When Taru would use me like that, I was someone else. The Siren. I had no way of stopping it, no way of snapping out of it. All I could do was kill. I’d always thought maybe, if I was reverent enough, if I appeased Taru enough, if I feared him enough, he wouldn’t use me the way he did.
From his bed, I stared up at Melkarth. “I wasn’t born this way. I was born normal. Then I was cursed, just like you. By the sorcerer king of Edinnu. I wasn’t pious enough, he thought. He wanted to teach me a lesson.” I paused before asking, “Where’s Wren?”
“In her room.”
I cocked my head. “You wanted her to replace you as executioner because the king of Edinnu cursed you. But what if I can pull the curse off you completely? What if you no longer had to execute people?”
“That’s a lot of what-ifs. We won’t know for certain until the next culling.”
Culling. Gods, I was glad I hadn’t heard that word until now. “It seems that my ability to control your curse is more likely than your maybe Taru will accept a replacement plan. He’s unlikely to accept a replacement. And we’ve both seen that we can affect each other in the same way when it comes to Taru’s magic. And more importantly, as long as we’ve got a Reaper here, she’s carrying something inside of her that makes her a danger to everyone, including you. And I’m the only one who can help you if you get hurt again.”
“Using your leverage, I see. What do you want?”
“I want her exorcized.”
“We’d need a spirit witch for that, and where on the gods’ green earth would we find—”
“Ree. Ree is a spirit witch.”
He raised a brow. “Who? Oh, right. Well, let’s hope she can take on a demented storm demon, then.”
“I have complete faith in her.” A total lie, but she was our best chance right now.
Ree was standing watch outside Wren’s door, and her eyes brightened when she saw us approach. She cocked her thumb back.
“I don’t know what the hells you’ve got locked in there,” she said, “but I’m feeling hella creeped out standing out in this hallway all by myself, guarding something unnamed.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll find out in a minute,” Melkarth said.
“How about now?”
I scratched my cheek. “Yeah, so, do you know how to perform an exorcism?”
She raised her eyebrows.
“An exorcism,” Melkarth repeated slowly. “It means taking a demon out of a person.”
She glared at him. “I know what it means. I just wasn’t expecting to be asked that question today.”
“So, can you?” I asked.
“Yeah, I mean, I guess.”
That was way too casual of an answer, considering what needed to happen. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Melkarth crossed to the door and pressed his palm against it. Runes glowed as he triggered the spell to unlock the door. A light show glittered on the door’s surface, silver motes shining off it and disappearing. The door swung open, and he stepped inside.
As soon as he did, Wren was on him, pinning him to the wall. She’d been so quiet, she caught us all by surprise. Wren—the Reaper—roared at Melkarth and slashed at his face and neck with the claws at the tips of her fingers. It all happened so fast, my thoughts were a blur.
Then my mind clicked, and I sprang into action, releasing another binding spell. I wrapped the magic lightning lasso around Wren’s body.
“Do you think you can stop me?” the Reaper screamed with a voice that shook the castle walls.
“What in the storm hell!” Ree yelled. “What the shit is happening?”
Taru wasn’t going to let Wren go easily. I should’ve known he’d be one step ahead of us. Dammit.
The Reaper roared, trying to attack Melkarth despite her hands being bound. I wasn’t afraid the Reaper would hurt Melkarth as much as I wasn’t sure how much self-control he would muster. The man could kill people with his mind.
In the next moment, Melkarth had managed to flip Wren around. He pinned her to the wall.
Ree stared at her. “This demon is insane.”
Melkarth cut her a sharp look. “Did you think the demon we wanted to exorcise would offer you tea and biscuits and discuss the economy?”
Ree took a tentative step closer. Her hands shook as she touched Wren’s face. The Reaper snapped her teeth, enlarged fangs searching for a piece of Ree’s face.
Ree’s composure was impressive. In only a matter of seconds, she’d managed to get her own trembling under control, and she was already mumbling under her breath.
Melkarth looked up at me, and I locked eyes with him. I was sure I saw something different in the way he looked at me.
Wren’s thrashing ripped me out of those thoughts. “Taru always gets what he wants!” Wren yelled. “Always. You are a puppet, Cora. You have always been a puppet, you will always be a puppet.”
“Shut up, Taru,” I hissed. “I’ve spent my whole life thinking I should try and please you, that maybe you’d bugger off and leave me alone, but I’m done doing that. If you want a fight, you’re going to get a fight.”
A peal of bone-rattling laughter turned my stomach. “Cora thinks she can fight Taru!”
Wren’s voice hurt my ears. Two-toned, gravelly, and way too masculine to have been coming out of the mouth of such a slight woman.
“If you don’t shut her up,” Melkarth said quietly, “I may have to slit her throat.”
“Yeah, because that’s really helpful!”
Ree held Wren’s face, mumbling and praying. Her hands started to glow, and Wren’s teeth-gnashing got worse. For a mad, terrifying moment, I thought I was going to lose my grip on her and she was going to break loose. Then what? She’d probably eat someone’s face.
I could feel Taru here, rumbling the stone around us, blowing a cold wind down my neck. His presence made me feel sick.
Ree shouted a magical word—a strange-sounding one I didn’t know. At that moment, Wren stiffened, all of her muscles tensing at once. She shrieked.
Ree’s eyes popped wide open, and a blast of magic filled Wren’s body. A shockwave pushed out in all directions, sending all three of us flying across the room. I picked myself up as fast as I could, ready to fight the Reaper once more—
But the Reaper was gone.
Wren lay on her back, breathing rapidly.
I crawled over to her and took her face in my hands. “Tell me that’s you in there,” I demanded.
She frowned. “Who else would it be?” she asked. She sounded like herself, but her voice was hoarse.
“Prove it. What was our nickname for the sexy homeless guy outside our shop?”
“Blankets.”
“And what color was his blanket?” I demanded.
“Blue … like the color of his eyes,” she muttered.
I nodded and looked back at Melkarth and Ree. “It’s her.” I pulled her up and hugged her tightly. “Where the hells have you been?”
“In the storm hell, I think.” She shivered, her eyes looking haunted.
I rubbed her back. “We need to get home.”
Ree blinked at me. “You mean, you’re not staying here?”
I shot a quick glance at Melkarth, who was casually leaning against the wall as if nothing had happened.
“I’m not sure Cora is leaving just yet. I believe she and I have an agreement. I save her life, she saves mine.”
Chapter 31
Melkarth
Melkarth approached the door to his room, and it swung open in greeting. After all the commotion today, he wanted to make a round of the castle and make sure nothing else was out of place. The last thing he wanted was another incident. What he really wanted was a bath and to lie in his bed listening to the rain and thunder.
Cora lay curled up on his bed, sleeping. She was waiting for her friend to recover before they made any more plans. Would she wa
nt to leave, now?
Perhaps. She’d only come here to free Wren. But something bound them, and they had to stay together.
Melkarth strode across his room, opened a cabinet, and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. His flask had run dry a few hours ago, and after all that had happened, he could do with a drink. Maybe two. He poured himself a glass, then poured one for Cora, only realizing what he was doing as the amber liquid hit the bottom of the glass.
When had that become a habit?
Melkarth looked down at the ice floating in his drink, shook his head, and then took a sip, letting the alcohol warm his throat on the way down. He could leave with her, he supposed. But then what? Supernaturals were outlawed unless you lived in an Institute. Better to live in luxury here and just ignore all the religious idiots. Cora would easily pass the trials.
He licked his lips, staring at her over the rim of his glass.
She was startlingly beautiful—smooth skin, sleepy green eyes, and hair the color of a sunset. Not to mention the way her clothes clung to her perfect body every time she went out into the rain. Which was often.
Even when Oren had first brought her here, her attractiveness had been apparent. He’d found himself staring at her more than he liked to admit, imagining exactly what she’d look like naked and stretched out on his bed.
Now, she was, lamentably, clothed—dressed in a delicate cashmere dress he’d created from his magic. He found her reaction to his magic indescribably delectable. His gaze roamed over one of her thighs, protruding from the sheets as if she felt too hot in here. As she lay stretched out on his bed, one of her hands gripped the sheet in a way that made his heart squeeze—
Gods below. He’d lost his mind. She’d changed him.
In the cave, when he’d first ripped her powers out of her, he’d learned two things. One, she was from Edinnu, a land ruled by fae he hated. And two … he hated to see her in pain. Even now, the memory made him recoil.
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