Sing Me to Sleep (The Lost Shards Book 3)

by Anna Argent

She took a series of deep breaths to calm herself down, just like Mom taught her to do, but it didn’t work. Nothing worked anymore. “No one gives a fuck about your rats.”

  This man had hunted her family for years. He’d killed their dog. He’d forced them to live on the run.

  Hedy wanted to kill him. She wanted to plunge her knife into his heart and watch the light in his eyes go out while she watched.

  It’s what he deserved. It’s what Mom would have wanted.

  Wasn’t it?

  Hedy wasn’t sure anymore. Mom had been gone for so long, it was hard to remember her rules.

  But she did remember what Phoenix had told her. Bernard had a purpose—one he couldn’t fill if he was dead.

  Sirens blared in the distance, growing loud enough to block out the sound of Hedy’s heart pounding in her ears.

  She couldn’t kill him in front of the police. She couldn’t be caged again.

  Bernard’s voice was filled with fear. “Okay. Clearly, you’re off your meds and nothing I can say will help. But we can’t be here when the cops show up.”

  Hedy grabbed him by the throat. He gurgled and pried at her fingers, but she was fueled by rage and far stronger than her size indicated.

  She got right in Bernard’s face. “Echo is mine. If you come after her again, I’ll cut off your arms and legs and feed you to your rats, dick first. Do I make myself clear?”

  His eyes bulged and he started to pass out from loss of oxygen to his tiny brain. His arms flailed weakly, pawing and scratching at her to release him, but she didn’t let go.

  She wanted to let him die, make him pay for trying to hurt her sister.

  If anyone was going to hurt Echo, it was going to be Hedy. There was still a chance that she could make her sister see the light and join Phoenix. They could be a family again, like they used to be. It didn’t even matter that Echo had abandoned Hedy all those years ago. She would find a way to forgive her—once she’d been punished for her crimes.

  Maybe the man who’d tortured Hedy to death for years could help Echo repent.

  Bernard gurgled. His legs began to twitch. His blows became weaker.

  She wanted him to die, but Phoenix said they needed him alive.

  Sirens were closing in on them. There wasn’t much time left to flee the area before they were caught and questioned.

  As hot as Hedy was running right now, she knew that she’d be more likely to kill a cop than to let one take her alive.

  And she was still covered in that old man’s blood. If the police saw that, they’d have questions.

  She couldn’t be caged again. She had to be free to find Echo and teach her a lesson. She couldn’t go around hurting people, discarding and forgetting them. Especially not family.

  By the time Hedy was done with Echo, she’d never abandon her again. She wouldn’t be able to.

  She waited until the cops were almost there before she released Bernard. He slumped forward over his steering wheel.

  He wasn’t dead yet. She’d stopped herself in time.

  Hedy shoved him onto the floorboards, planted the tracker Phoenix had given her, and then got back into her stolen truck.

  The rat man had been hunting her family since she was a child. He could always find Mom, no matter how far she ran. And now he was able to find Echo.

  Hedy didn’t know how he could do that, but she didn’t care. Phoenix had said that Bernard would lead her to her sister. All she had to do was find him.

  And now she had.

  ***

  They stopped at Asgard on their way to Jasper because Stygian was losing feeling in his fingers more with every passing hour.

  As much as he hated what he had to do, there was no way he could fire a weapon, much less fight if he didn’t accept and fix his weaknesses.

  He sent Echo to show the librarian what they’d found while he made a request that grated against every lesson he’d learned as a child.

  Be tough. Ignore the pain. Keep going no matter what.

  His grandfather had beaten him dozens of times, and at least some of them had been to teach him how to deal with the pain.

  But it wasn’t the pain he was worried about now. It was his inability to protect Echo from the man who hunted her. If he went down because of his weakness, that was one thing, but to risk her life…. He couldn’t.

  Stygian knocked on a pale blue door and prayed the Riven’s healer was home.

  It took her a long time to open the door. He could hear her shuffling footsteps coming long before the knob turned.

  Eliana Wisp cracked the door open enough for him to see her face.

  She was a pretty woman with white-blond hair and light gray eyes that usually sparkled. Today, they were as dull as her skin, shadowed with purple smears of fatigue. Limp, tired-looking hair hung around her face. Her cheeks seemed sunken, with a yellow cast that didn’t look at all healthy.

  She offered him a smile so fragile it died at birth. “Stygian. Good to see you.”

  Eliana was always polite, always sweet. Her quiet, soft spoken ways made him nervous because he was always worried that he might breathe too hard and hurt her, or accidentally trip over her like a silent cat under his feet.

  Her gaze slid down his body before he could speak. The moment she saw his bandaged wrist and bloody clothes, she opened the door wider. “Come in.”

  Stygian didn’t like to come here. The place was too feminine, too soft and plush. There were layers of fabric everywhere, as if even the rounded contours of her couch and bed were too harsh for her fragile body.

  She wore a long, fuzzy robe over what he guessed was a night gown.

  Was she sick? Was she recovering from the last person who called on her to use her shards?

  “I shouldn’t have come,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  She grabbed his arm before he could leave. Her grip was surprisingly strong, giving him the hope that maybe she wasn’t as sickly as she appeared.

  He’d seen what she could do—the lives she’d saved. Just a few weeks ago he’d witnessed what she’d done for Knox Hardin, whose body had been filled with magical, burrowing worms. It was a miracle he’d survived.

  It was a miracle she had as well.

  “I hate to bother you,” he said. “It’s just a little scratch, but I’m losing feeling in my fingers. I need to be able to fire a gun. There’s this prophecy—”

  She gave him another smile, only this one lived longer than the first. “Shh. It’s okay. You don’t have to feel bad about needing help.”

  “It’s not for me,” he said, blushing. “Echo has this guy after her.”

  She nodded as she led him to a chair by the window. “I’ve heard. Harold was practically giddy over the new prophecy he gets to play with.”

  Stygian sat where she put him, like an obedient school boy.

  She put on gloves, then went to work unwrapping his bandage. The mess went into a stainless-steel bowl nearby.

  In one corner of her room she had a table set up with medical supplies next to a gurney. Heavy leather straps hung from the sides, making him wonder how many times she’d had to strap someone down.

  As soon as she saw his wound, she made a low sound of distress. “Is this a bite?”

  “Yes. Giant rat-like creatures. Hard to kill.”

  “It’s infected. The swelling is putting pressure on your nerves.”

  “Can you give me some antibiotics or something?” he asked.

  “I could, and then you could go back on your mission in about three or four days.” She gave him a pointed look. “We both know that won’t work. Just sit back and let me do my job.”

  This was the part he hated. As amazing as her ability to heal was, it was hard to watch.

  Eliana didn’t just make people better, she took on whatever was wrong with them and healed it inside herself. That meant her wrist had to be split open, she had to suffer the heat and pain of the infection.

  “What about some kind of shot?” he aske
d.

  “You’re as bad as Garrick. Stop being a baby. Look away if you have to, but sit still.”

  She stripped off her gloves and wrapped her fingers around his wrist.

  He didn’t look away. He would bear witness to what she did for him. He owed her at least that much.

  As he watched, her wrist began to bleed. She mopped up the blood with a cloth she held at the ready. She knew this was coming. She knew she would bleed.

  The wound in her arm widened and grew until it matched his own, though it seemed far more grotesque on her narrow wrist than on his thicker one. The flesh around the wound darkened to an angry, throbbing red.

  His skin knitted shut. His pain faded, then vanished. The tingling in his fingers disappeared. His skin was whole now, his grip strong and sure.

  “You can go now,” she said, her voice strained. “I can handle it from here.”

  Stygian hesitated. It seemed rude or ungrateful somehow to walk away before she’d finished the job—before she’d closed her own skin, before she’d defeated the infection raging through her veins.

  “Go,” she said. “Please. This is easier on me without an audience.” She sounded so weak, so exhausted.

  He was torn between doing what she asked and staying nearby in case she needed him.

  She sagged in her chair.

  Stygian steadied her shoulders. “I’ve never seen you this bad before. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’ve just had a lot of injuries to heal since Starry turned. It will pass.” She lifted her head just enough to look at him. “Will you help me to bed, please?”

  He picked her up as he would have a child and slid her feet under the blankets. Along the way she’d dropped the cloth over her arm.

  The skin beneath was closed, but the bite mark was still visible. So was the infection.

  He pulled up the blankets. “Do you need anything else?”

  “Just rest. Turn out the lights on your way out, please.” It was a dismissal, but when paired with her request for rest, he had a hard time arguing with her.

  She seemed too weak for any kind of fight.

  Stygian did as she asked, feeling guilt rage beneath his skin where the bite had just been. He shouldn’t have come here. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t pull a trigger. He should have found another way. He should have been tougher, stronger. And now a sweet, selfless woman was suffering because of his mistake.

  Echo will be safe, Hazel whispered to him. That is all that matters.

  That’s when Stygian realized that his actions were not entirely his own.

  He went still as the implications of what had just happened sunk in.

  It wasn’t like him at all to ask for help. That kind of weakness had been beaten out of him years ago. And it sure as hell wasn’t like him to ask someone weaker than him to take on his burdens, his pain.

  That is why I helped you make the right choice, Hazel said.

  He stood motionless outside of Eliana’s pale blue door, trying to come to grips with what had just happened.

  Hazel had made him do something out of character for him and he hadn’t even realized it was happening. If she’d made him take advantage of poor, sweet Eliana, what else had she made him do?

  Hazel laughed. What else, indeed?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Stygian slammed through the doors of the library, making Echo jump.

  “Will this spell to get Hazel out work if some of her shards are missing?” he demanded in the librarian’s direction.

  Stygian’s face was a fierce mask of rage. The veins in his temples were throbbing. His fists were balled up at his sides.

  His wrist was completely healed.

  “You’re all better,” she said, shocked and amazed.

  He ignored her and marched straight to the desk where Harold sat hunched in front of a pile of books, wide-eyed.

  “Answer me. Do we need all Hazel’s shards?” Stygian demanded again.

  The librarian blinked. His bushy white brows bobbed in shock. “I, uh, I believe that’s the case, yes.”

  “What if one of them is missing?”

  “I don’t know for certain, but my guess is that the spell will fail. Hazel’s shards will stay where they are. Why do you ask?”

  “She told me that Echo and I don’t have all of her pieces.” He turned to her now, his indigo eyes glittering with menace. “Hazel said that you know where the other shards are.”

  “Me?” Echo shook her head. “How would I know?”

  “She said something about the dead staying buried for a while longer. What the fuck does that mean?” he asked.

  “I have no idea,” Echo said, but something tickled the back of her mind.

  “Perhaps the witch is playing tricks on you, son.”

  Stygian shuddered. His nostrils flared. “I’m certain of that. But what if she’s right? What if we need all her shards in one place?”

  “Then you must find the missing shards before you cast the spell.”

  “How?”

  Harold spread his arthritic fingers. “I don’t yet know. Perhaps if I spend more time with the prophecy it will become clear.”

  “We have only a few days. How much more time can we give you?” Rage reddened his face. Spittle flew from his lips.

  Echo stood up and tried to shove Stygian away from the old man. All she managed to do was turn him toward her a few degrees, but at least his ire was now pointed at her. “What the hell happened to you? You’ve been gone all of twenty minutes and come back a raging asshole.”

  “Hazel is what happened to me. She tricked me into forcing Eliana to heal me when the poor girl is too weak to even get dressed.” He shoved his fingers through his dark hair. “What the hell was I thinking?”

  Harold’s voice fell to a soothing tone. “The witch knows we’re getting close to caging her. Even she might not know if that’s in her best interests or not. We certainly don’t.”

  “I want her out, Harold. I want her dead, but I’ll take getting her out of my head if that’s the best I can get.” Stygian’s gaze slid to Echo and stayed there. “Before I do something I can’t take back.”

  There was meaning in his expression. He wasn’t talking in generalities. There was something specific he was trying to avoid, and it had everything to do with her.

  “Do what?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  She spat some of his anger back at him. “Bullshit. What does she want you to do?”

  His lips pressed shut for a moment before he closed his eyes and spoke. “She wants a baby. Our baby. Our shards combined in a child she can use and control.”

  Echo’s hand went to her stomach. Her knees evaporated. She collapsed into the chair behind her, barely catching the edge to break her fall.

  Shock blasted through her, then continued to ripple outward for what seemed like a long time. “She wants what?”

  Harold cleared his throat. “It’s a common enough desire among the shards. They all want to be made more whole. My readings suggest that it’s painful to be splintered as they are. They’ve been bringing men and women together for generations solely for this purpose.” He said it matter-of-factly, like he wasn’t discussing her entire world shifting on its axis. “Why do you think you all have so much power in this generation, when previous ones did not? It certainly wasn’t by accident. You’re being pulled together for a reason.”

  A baby. That had been the last thought on Echo’s mind—further even than being given a Nobel Prize or visiting the moon.

  She couldn’t take care of a child. She could barely take care of herself. She had no clue how her mom had managed to raise three girls, living on the run the way they had. There was never any money, never any safety.

  How many times had she had to hide, barely even breathing for fear the rat man would find her? She couldn’t do that with an infant—she couldn’t control when the baby cried or gurgled.

  The idea of the rat man’s monsters getting hold
of a child made her heart clench with fear and her stomach heave with nausea.

  “We’re not going to give her what she wants,” Echo said, her voice shaking with the emotions roiling through her.

  “I agree,” Stygian said, “but Hazel has already proven she can make me do something out of character. What if she—” He stopped himself. His whole body trembled visibly. “I can’t stand the thought of hurting you. Forcing you.”

  Echo held up her hands. “She can’t make me do anything. I don’t have enough of that bitch in me for her to have control.”

  “Don’t be too sure,” Harold said. “Even a sliver can make a difference. You’d best be on your guard against her influence. Both of you.”

  “We need her out,” Stygian said. “If this spell isn’t going to work without all of her shards, how can we find the rest?”

  “I don’t know,” Harold said. “I suggest you two hurry up and find the locket fast. You may need every second you can get to find the last shards. I’ll do what I can on my end and I’ll talk to Eden. Maybe she’s seen another piece of Hazel elsewhere.”

  “It’s worth a shot,” Echo said, still reeling.

  “We have to hurry,” Stygian said.

  Under her breath, she said, “A baby. What the hell is an evil bitch going to do with a baby?”

  Stygian’s face darkened. “I can think of several things, and none of them are good. We need to leave. Now.”

  It didn’t matter how fast they left, Echo’s thoughts were going to be right beside her and she knew all of them would be about a child that she could never allow to be born.

  ***

  The moment Echo saw the old, isolated farmhouse sitting in the middle of nowhere, she remembered it. The yard was thick with weeds, but she could recall the feel of freshly cut grass tickling her bare feet. She could remember laughing with Melody as they raced across the lawn. There had been a sandbox in the back yard and they’d built doll houses there, playing out entire lives for their plastic playmates.

  The house had seemed so bright back then, so big. Now it was faded and shrunken, as if the weight of its years had compressed it somehow.

  No one had been here in a long time. Even the gravel driveway was grown over with weeds. The mailbox at the road sat crooked on its rotted, wooden post, the faded metal dented from some teenage game of mailbox baseball.