“Not intentionally, but it will sting.” Her nostrils widened, letting in the air she needed to calm her blood.
Carn’s head swiveled. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.” He turned the rest of his body to face her and puffed up his chest.
She wanted to plunge her hand into his ribcage and rip out his heart. She knew what he thought, that coming into his full power would be enough to take Hame from her completely. But she had been playing games for a long time now.
She stepped forward, placed her hand over his heart, and plunged her power into him. She sought the pathetic trickle she’d identified in so many humans. When she approached it, Carn had more than usual, but it paled compared to what he could have.
She searched for the hole in the dam and immediately began to break away chunks around it. More power flowed through and rushed into her, catching in her breath. Carn screamed in the distance, but she couldn’t let that deter her. She dug harder and his power surged. She prepared to tear it down completely but held back. She refused to call it envy so she called it mistrust. She didn’t know Carn enough yet, and no amount of Hame’s pleading would persuade her to set free a powerful witch. Carn had to earn it. He had more than enough for what she required him to do.
Pulling back, she resurfaced to see Carn lying in Hame’s arms. The boy had fainted, his hair plastered to his skull with sweat and his lip bleeding.
“You did that on purpose,” Hame snapped.
“I did nothing of the sort.” She returned her hand to rest over Carn’s heart. The energy tingled on her palm.
Yes, plenty of power.
“How long ’til he wakes?” Hame asked.
“We don’t have time for this.” She snapped her fingers and water showered Carn’s face.
He sat up, spluttering and wiping his eyes.
“How do you feel?” She tried to hide her smile.
“Like I’ve been trampled by a horse.” But then he looked at his hands, from one to the other, examining his open palms. Light sprung up from them and he laughed, shutting them off. He jumped to his feet, his hands smoothing down his body, sensing the power within him. She and Hame stood, and for all that she hadn’t warmed to the boy, she smiled at Carn’s happiness.
There were no thanks for her. Instead, he beamed at Hame. She caught the lust in his eyes.
“Don’t even think about it. Right now, I need you to show me your shields.”
They lost time to his inability to focus, the joy making him giddy and scatterbrained. She ordered Hame away because he was a major distraction to them both.
Once Carn concentrated, his affinity with shields served him well. He quickly became invisible, and from there it wasn’t long before he masked the scent of violets and the resonance of his magic.
Then she made him do it over and over again, finally closing her eyes and telling him to move elsewhere so she wouldn’t know where he was. When she opened her eyes, she was alone. She pushed out her senses, feeling for magic, sniffing for violets, but nothing.
He was ready.
Then she heard Hame laugh inside the cottage. She ran to see the oracle foolishly trying to catch empty air.
“Do you two mind?” The sides of her head burned.
Carn returned, appearing behind Hame’s back, a proud grin on his face. He kissed the oracle’s cheek and hugged him close.
Her heart crushed inside her breast. What had she done?
“It’s late. We must go.”
XVII
Carn sucked the shield closer to his body as sweat dribbled down his back. He and Aurelia had traveled into the crypt after she’d given him strict instructions to remain quiet the whole time. Invisible too, she’d kept her hand on his shoulder until he was in place, then slipped away.
It was easy to pick out the leader, a man—a demon—called Xadrak. Two unarmed guards dressed in black flanked him, and he stood facing twelve men arranged in a half-circle. At their feet lay human remains.
The group was divided into those with power and those without. A few trembled. All of a sudden, one broke and ran screaming towards the crypt exit. Xadrak raised his hand and gripped the air as if he held the man’s neck, then squeezed. The man struggled, his legs dancing across the stones before his body went slack and he dropped to the floor, all too near Carn’s feet. The dead man’s eyes looked right at him and ice shot through Carn’s blood.
He can’t see me. He can’t see me.
He wrapped his arms around himself to lessen his shivering. His shields were good, strong, but he doubted they’d be any match for Xadrak if he saw through them. He crept away from the corpse.
Xadrak beckoned and a supplicant stepped forward with a steady stride and an inflated chest. Carn wiped his clammy brow as Xadrak placed his hand on the man’s head. He writhed beneath the awful benediction. Power filled the crypt, and the air turned sulfurous. The man’s shrieks stabbed into Carn’s marrow, straight into his soul, before they cut mid-howl and he collapsed. A couple of the brethren rushed forward to revive him.
The unblessed salivated, looking at each other with eager and awe-filled eyes—meanwhile the empowered smiled with sickening pride at their growing numbers. More than one appraised their newest member. Carn understood that distrust. Is this one stronger than I? Has this one been favored more than I? Will he still bleed if I stab him?
The latest convert awoke and, after marveling at his newly gained gift, prostrated himself at Xadrak’s feet.
“All hail Xadrak, lord of the Earth and beyond,” he intoned.
“All hail Xadrak, lord of the Earth and beyond,” the others echoed.
Xadrak swelled with their adulation.
Then they repeated the whole thing.
Transfixed, Carn trembled at Xadrak’s power. No other men fled. Their hearts and souls belonged to the demon, acolytes all.
XVIII
“Stop fidgeting. He’ll be fine,” Aurelia said.
Hame’s leg jiggled as they sat staring into the scrying bowl on the table. Her concentration stuttered with what she’d witnessed, so maintaining the vision proved hard, even without Hame’s distraction. Perhaps she should have given this task to Carn instead; then maybe Liesel wouldn’t have to see her as she really was. But she knew he wasn’t strong enough to handle her brothers, so it fell to her.
The bloody key better reveal itself after all this.
“Leave me be. I’m worried about him.”
Carn’s shield hid him from all things, even the scrying eyes of an oracle, but she understood Hame’s near-panic. She’d felt the spreading evil in that room. Even now it cloyed in her throat. The sooner she destroyed Xadrak, the better, but right now she was watching the whole horrible scene at Liesel’s castle unfold.
Olivier had slain Wolf and Reiner, and Thierry had returned to find Reiner’s corpse. Her brothers now fought, a more vicious fight she’d never seen, and at any moment she thought one would kill the other. She itched to intercede, but Hame held her back.
The brothers tumbled into the hall, slamming on the cold stone floor where the Duke sat in a daze, holding his son’s body.
Thierry and Olivier continued to fight, and villagers arrived to storm the castle and kill the monsters. The Duke stirred from his fugue and, seeing an army ready to attack, took charge. Olivier roared at them. His jaw stretched open, his fangs glistened with red-stained saliva and that look of pure hate turned his eyes black.
Hame tapped her hand. “Prepare yourself.”
So much carnage. She wanted to search for Liesel but couldn’t swing the vision.
Olivier wrenched himself free of Thierry’s hold and the two broke apart. A powerful kick to Thierry’s chest sent him flying. She readied herself for travel. The Duke launched himself at Olivier.
“Now!” Hame shouted.
Aurelia vanished and reappeared in the midst of the fight, a force-field rippling out of her. The Duke and Olivier shot apart. The Duke slammed against a pillar, his head lolling. Olivier was no
t so easily wounded. He crouched and circled around her. As he moved, she saw Liesel standing by the stairs. Her hand was held over her mouth, her eyes wide.
The knife in Aurelia’s heart twisted.
Olivier taunted her. Thierry snarled.
“No more fighting.” She spoke softly, unable to trust her voice to a shout, but the hall stilled at her words.
Thierry pleaded for Olivier’s murder, and she’d be right to allow it. Wolf was slain by him, Reiner gutted by him. And her friend, Liesel, quivering so hard she looked about to shatter. She was her friend no longer—not after seeing her like this. But she had to fight her need for vengeance, all to keep this evil alive.
“Go ahead, Aurelia,” Olivier sneered. “Finish me off, the way you always wanted.”
“No.”
“Because you can’t. You don’t have the power, you weak bitch.” He spat blood at her.
Whether he taunted her because he wanted her to kill him and succumb to the same depravity beating in his veins, or whether he truly believed she was unable to control him, she couldn’t let the slight go. He had to suffer for what he’d done here.
She raised her hand, and Olivier levitated off the floor.
He laughed. “Cheap tricks.”
She gripped her hand tight and sent agony spiraling through his body. He squirmed and screamed, the sight and sound churning her blood. Her power surged. She wanted him to howl for mercy.
Because of him she’d lost Liesel, the one pure thing in her life. Because of him she was tied to this cursed existence, keeping him alive to slaughter as a sacrifice for another day. Her body quivered with the power thundering within her. She would destroy him.
No! Stop this. You can’t.
How she wished she could, but she remembered her vow and she inched back, step by painful step, until her will pulled out of her brother and he plummeted to the floor. She turned to Thierry, but the shouts of the dissatisfied crowd stole her attention, and she released a blue shield that kept everyone at bay, protecting the children of Henri d’Arjou.
“Thierry, I know you’re in pain, but I can’t kill him.” She squashed every bit of hate in her. “He is needed.”
As are you.
He argued. She empathized, but Olivier must survive. He dashed for his brother, but she spirited Olivier far away, and Thierry shot through empty air.
“Why?” he roared.
She steeled herself to his cries, even as they rattled inside her heart.
“I told you why.” She left him to weep, unable to console him, not when he wept for Reiner, for having lost again that which he thought he’d regained. Etienne would return, and with him might come the chance for them to love again.
She turned to the crowd. “Go back to your homes. We are leaving. Your village and this castle will be safe. You will not be troubled again.”
“Witch! How can we trust you?” The Duke stood at the front; his sword poised ready to strike her down. Foam gathered in the corners of his mouth. She would have laughed at him, but Liesel’s gaze burned into her.
“You will just have to take my word for it. I am truly sorry for your loss.” She longed to push this fool aside and reach for Liesel’s hand, to explain everything, to apologize, but mostly to tell her that her love was no lie.
“We demand justice for the havoc these demons have brought into our lives,” the Duke shouted, and the crowd cheered.
She fixed her eyes on him. “There is nothing I can do. I am sorry.”
“You lying witch!”
“Do not try my patience, Duke. Mourn for your son and your lost friends. You are not the only one to grieve tonight.”
“We will have vengeance.”
She turned away from him and away from dear, tender Liesel, and bent down to Thierry.
“It’s time to leave,” she said, a catch in her voice.
He looked up at her, his eyes blood-shot. “Why did he have to do it? Why couldn’t he…?” He sobbed, and the sound pulled at her misery.
She stooped under the sodden weight of her grief and touched his shoulder. They vanished, but she couldn’t escape Liesel’s unspoken questions as they hounded her through the ether.
XIX
Aurelia locked Thierry in the room next to their mother’s. Too absorbed with his grief, he didn’t wonder where he was or what was happening to him. Later, he’d no doubt attempt to seek vengeance on Olivier. Bringing him to the mountain was the best way to stop him from running across Europe to tear apart his twin.
As for Olivier, she’d dumped him in the wastelands of Siberia. She hoped the bastard froze.
She couldn’t rest, even though sorrow dogged her. She had to collect Carn. Travelling to Salzburg, her shield locked in place before she entered the church. Descending into the crypt, she searched for Carn while surveying the coven. They tested their powers on each other; another body had been added to the pile since she’d left.
Carn wasn’t where she expected. Her hand swept in widening arcs, and she held her power ready to jump out of there the instant she touched him. Then, behind a tomb, her fingers brushed him. She lunged forward, locking her hand hard on his forearm, and ripped them out of the crypt before he shrieked.
She delivered him into Hame’s arms.
“Tomorrow,” was all she said, then returned to her home and crawled into bed. Alone, she finally had the time to dwell on what had happened, and the trials ahead. She had no tears to cry, not that they would have eased anything, yet her soul wept. Blessed sleep eventually took her, and she dreamed of nothing, thankful for this small respite.
She woke to Thierry’s roars and hammering. She ran out and shouted at him to be still so she could open the door.
“As long as you promise not to run.”
He battered and yowled again.
“Enough!”
He gave the door one more bang, then retreated. She released the lock, and he charged her. He slammed her against the wall, his body pressing against her. He’d stripped the bloodied shirt from his chest, but red smears ran down his face and across his neck and arms. His fangs unsheathed, his eyes blazed gold.
“Where is he?” he growled.
“Out of your reach.”
“Give him to me!”
“No.” She found the strength to shout him down, even as his hands squeezed her tighter. She would not let the pain through.
He snarled at her, but she held firm.
“You must not kill Olivier, do you understand?”
“He deserves nothing but death.”
“I promise you, brother, one day he will be called to account, but today is not that day.”
He held her for a long time, those eyes threatening to burn through her, but she resisted and eventually, slowly, he released her.
“And what am I do to now?”
“Be at ease. You are free of your charge.”
“You mean my jailor.”
“Then be happy for it.”
“I was happy with Reiner.”
He stalked back into his room and slammed the door. Would that she could do nothing but mourn in her room or go and ease her suffering by returning to Liesel and explaining what had happened. But there was work to do.
The clock inside her room chimed seven. She had to hear Carn’s report. She needed to bathe first; the blood and sweat of the night before still clung to her. The bath filled quickly, and she slipped beneath the water, intending to be quick, but her mind drifted to Liesel.
She allowed herself to dwell, to feel the loss that tore strips from her. The hot water scalded her skin, but it paled in comparison to the acid burn inside her breast. She’d return to her friend in time to lay a protective shield over the castle. Olivier was unlikely to return, but she preferred to take precautions. If anything further happened to Liesel, then she would truly hate herself. Having a plan in place helped spur her to action, swapping her misery over Liesel for a need to destroy Xadrak.
She dressed and told Thierry she was
going. He didn’t respond.
Carn and Hame were awake and waiting for her when she arrived. Carn relayed what he’d seen—thirteen men ascended into Xadrak’s ranks. His power flowed into theirs and made them stronger. As Carn talked, she noticed the way Hame maintained some level of contact, stroking his arm, rubbing his back, his head leaning on Carn’s shoulder. The boy’s voice sounded hollow, defeated, even with Hame’s care.
“Did they say anything about what they were going to do next?”
“Encourage others to join them. They may have already picked some and taken them back. You should know he’s given them your description and told them to kill you on sight.”
“I’d rather kill Xadrak first, but we may be better off killing his minions while they’re out recruiting. That way we can isolate Xadrak.”
“There are at least two by his side at all times, acting as bodyguards, and he mentioned another—Franz—who I never saw.”
“They shouldn’t be a problem. Do you have the stomach for slaughter?”
Carn’s face was already pallid but he nodded solemnly. “They are not worthy of my mercy or my tears.”
She smiled. Carn was going to work out nicely.
XX
Now was not the time for drawn-out executions. Aurelia armed herself and Carn with enchanted daggers as a precaution in case they ended up in hand-to-hand combat. Also death-by-knife wouldn’t sap their strength.
Using Carn’s knowledge, they traveled to each of the acolytes under the cover of their shields. They arrived to find one having killed another. While the survivor stood gloating over his fallen brother, she drove the dagger into his back, the enchantment spreading rapidly through his body and dissolving his heart. She withdrew the blade and he died by the time he hit the floor. She grabbed Carn’s wrist and they traveled to the next.
He was in bed alone, and from the state of him, he had been enjoying his newfound vitality with a prostitute. Thankfully, she wasn’t there. Aurelia killed him in the same quick method as the one prior, a dagger plunging out of nowhere to steal his life.
Burning Blood: Bonds of Blood: Book 2 Page 17