Bind the Soul (Steel & Stone Book 2)

by Annette Marie

  The closer she got, the worse the battle sounded. The boom of explosions came almost nonstop but the trees blocked her view. Somewhere around that bend, people were fighting. Dying. It was no small skirmish. Why would Miysis lead his inferior force out of the defensible Consulate to meet Samael’s greater numbers? It didn’t make sense.

  She tugged on the reins. The horse slowed from a canter to a trot, ears swiveling with each blast. Screams and shouts sounded between explosions. As the horse cantered around the corner and Piper saw what lay ahead, she grabbed the reins and hauled it up short.

  A wide-open space a hundred yards ahead. Two highways intersected in a network of bridges and ramps. Only a single piece of one bridge remained, jutting over the crumbling highway. Chunks of concrete the size of trucks littered the ground amidst shattered trees and collapsed ramps. A thick cloud of dust hung over the area, obscuring the flashes of magic, the flickering orange light of flames, and the bursts of white explosions. Movement was discernible only as darting shadows in the roiling dust.

  Somewhere on the battlefield was her father.

  There was no way to tell who was where. Who was winning. Who was dying. Piper clenched and unclenched her hands. She knew who would be winning: Samael and his elite knights. The battle was still raging. Maybe it wasn’t too late to make a difference. She urged the horse toward the intersection and its maze of rubble and dust. The closer she got, the harder her heart slammed into her ribs. She couldn’t just ride in there; she might charge into the middle of enemy forces.

  She turned the horse toward one of the semi-demolished ramps. Each explosion stabbed at her ears, painfully loud. Spitting out a gritty mouthful from the dusty air, she swung off the horse and tied the reins to a bush. The ramp rose ten feet above her, one side crumbling away. She scrambled over the rubble and climbed on top. Dropping to her hands and knees, she crawled to the edge and peered across the battlefield.

  Huge clouds of churning, writhing dust obscured everything. The faint breeze teased the clouds into swirling eddies, revealing scattered groups of black figures: Samael’s knights. Her gaze darted across the debris-strewn scene, searching for a pattern. Half the force had congregated near the one bridge with its base intact. The greatest density of shadowy figures pressed against a low wall of rubble.

  The dust swirled. Between the wall and the base of the bridge were more human shapes, most of them in red—Miysis’s soldiers. Her breath caught in her throat. They were trapped. Samael’s knights had them pinned against the bridge. If it hadn’t been so cloudy with dust, more of the knights probably would have already joined in and overwhelmed the vulnerable force.

  She had to help.

  Sweeping her gaze over the scene once more, she noted the overhanging bridge, the barricade of rubble protected by the enemy that closed off the only escape, and the spots where the Hades knights were thickest. Scooting backward, she rolled to her feet and ran back down the ramp. At the bottom, she pulled the Sahar from her pocket and stared at it, her mouth dry. Exhaling harshly, she forced it under her armguard, shoving it into the middle of the leather brace. It dug painfully into her inner wrist, but it definitely wouldn’t budge an inch.

  She needed a weapon besides the Stone but all she could find was a dagger in a built-in sheath in the horse’s saddle. Mounting again, she steered the horse around the ramp until they faced the bridge’s base rising above the cloud of dust. Deep breath. She thumped her heels into the horse’s sides.

  It reared with an aggressive, elated bellow and launched forward from its hind legs. Piper squealed and grabbed its mane. The horse charged straight into the enveloping cloud. Over the sound of pounding hooves and explosions rose the shouts of those fighting and the screams of those dying.

  The charged toward a massive shadow in the mist—a chunk of bridge. The horse swerved around it and then Piper saw them. Darting figures in black, some hidden behind pieces of bridge, others moving in groups. As her horse charged in, some of them glanced at her. Surprise flashed across their faces and then she was past them, leaving their shouts behind.

  A lone soldier appeared out of the dust. Recognition splashed across his features. He lifted a hand toward her.

  Her horse charged him. She swung her dagger and slammed it blade first into his neck. She was past him before he even fell. The horse sprang over a shattered tree and the dust swirled, offering her a glimpse of more knights. She swerved the other way. Out of nowhere, another squad ran out from the dust. Her horse plowed into their midst.

  She looked around wildly, not seeing an escape. The Sahar was a cold spot on her wrist but if she used it now, in the middle of Samael’s army, they would all turn on her and overwhelm her.

  A hand grabbed her leg. She jammed the dagger through his eye socket.

  “Go!” she screamed, slamming her heels into the horse.

  It reared with a scream. Its front hooves slashed the two knights in front of it, driving them down. Piper clung to its mane as it sprang off its hind legs, landed on its front hooves, and kicked out the back ones with lethal force. She felt them connect.

  Then the horse was running again. Magic blasted the rubble nearby, barely missing the horse’s legs. They were trying to take out her mount.

  “Run,” she shouted, leaning forward and tugging the reins to the right. They careened around part of the merging ramp of the highway and out of sight of the knights. The broken bridge loomed above her.

  She steered the horse around a chunk of concrete. A knight sprang off the top of it, landing ahead of her. He dodged the horse and Piper’s dagger, but her boot connected hard with his chest, knocking him backward and almost jarring her out of the saddle. She righted herself as the horse charged on.

  Morphing into sight through the dust was a long line of rubble that formed a low wall. That was it! Knights knelt with their backs to her, keeping under cover as short blasts of magic and possibly gunfire peppered the barricade. Her guys were on the other side, trapped and helpless.

  She pulled on the reins, slowing the horse, as she looked frantically for a gap in the enemy line. A shout rang out behind her.

  “There, it’s her. Stop her!”

  She didn’t turn to look. She kicked the horse forward with an urgent scream. The tireless beast charged straight for the barricade. The knights in front of it looked around at the sound of hooves and leaped aside as the horse reached the four-foot mound of rubble. Between one step and the next, it gathered itself—and jumped.

  Its body stretched out as it soared over the barricade. Piper barely managed to cling to its back as it came down hard and galloped into no man’s land—the open space in the middle of chaos, the battle zone between the two sides. Panic spiked. Would her own side recognize her?

  The ground exploded in front of the horse’s hooves.

  The beast threw itself to the side but lost its footing on the loose rubble. It fell. She was hurtling through the air before she realized she’d been thrown. She clamped her arms over her head as she hit the ground. Pain ripped down her spine. She rolled with the momentum before sprawling limply on the broken concrete, unable to move.

  An animal squeal made her open her eyes. The horse was back on its feet. It squealed again, rearing in panic, before charging off. Piper moaned and spat hair out of her mouth. Where was her dagger? It wasn’t in her hand.

  Move. She had to move.

  Gritting her teeth, she rolled onto her stomach. Magic exploded behind her. Gunshots. Dust roiled, hiding her from the enemy, but which way were her allies?

  A shadow appeared out of the cloud. A face, the white of one eye showing all the way around, the other covered by a bandage.

  “Father!” she gasped.

  Quinn grabbed her and charged back the way he’d come. Another low wall of rubble appeared in front of them. He shoved her toward it. She jumped over it and dropped into a sort of bowl of dirt and debris. Quinn slid down beside her, nearly landing on one of the three dozen daemons crouched along the wa
ll, some shielding them from the Hades attacks, others throwing attacks of their own.

  “Piperel,” Quinn rasped. He gripped her shoulders and scanned her face. “Are you okay? Lyre told us about the poison.”

  “Fine. Got the antidote.” She flinched as a blast hit the bridge above. Rubble showered them. “Why did you leave the Consulate? Why are you all here?”

  His mouth went flat. A rock ten feet away exploded in a burst of magic, sending daemons leaping for cover. Quinn pulled her beneath the overhanging bridge.

  “It was that double-crossing son a bitch Ash,” he ground out.

  Her mouth fell open; her father never cursed.

  “I told you not to trust him,” he continued, fury roughening every word. “He stole the Sahar from Miysis and took it straight to his master. I told you.” He shook his head. “We had no choice but to move out immediately. We didn’t realize Samael has disguised his forces. We’re surrounded and can’t retreat. That bastard is wearing us down before he makes his final move.” His jaw clenched. “Piperel, why did you come here? This is a death sentence.”

  “It’s not over yet,” she said grimly. “Ash didn’t steal the Sahar for Samael.”

  His mouth flattened into a hard line. “Piper—”

  Not wasting time explaining, she slashed her gaze across the soldiers lining the bowl.

  “Miysis,” she yelled. “Miysis! Get over here.”

  Half the daemons looked around at her, staring.

  “Miysis!”

  A sudden cascade of rubble near the back of their hideout made her turn. Miysis slid down the side of the debris pile, landing gracefully. Four Ra bodyguards followed him. Miysis looked like his usual composed self, except for the long, curved, blood-soaked sword in his hand. The magic-dampening collar glinted around his throat. His glare flashed over her as he approached.

  “How nice of you to join us, Piper,” he said acidly.

  “Charming,” she snapped. “Get your people. We’re leaving.”

  “What—”

  “Don’t argue with me!” She pointed over his shoulder. “We’re going out that way.”

  He looked around at the underside of the bridge where several tons of concrete and steel rebar arched above them. When he turned back, his eyes were black and angry. “What in the Nine Circles are you—”

  “Everyone get back,” she shouted. She waved at the daemons to get behind her. They all stared at her as though she’d lost her mind.

  “Piperel—” Quinn began.

  She stepped away from him, her attention on the bridge. She’d already blown up a bigger bridge than this one. Last time, however, she hadn’t had to worry about deadly hunks of bone-crushing cement falling on her head afterward.

  Her thoughts turned to the Sahar. She’d controlled it once; she’d have to do it again. Centering her thoughts on her father and the other lives she needed to save, she brought the violent image of the bridge’s destruction into her mind’s eye.

  The Sahar flared hot against her wrist. Power rose inside her on a wave of blinding euphoria laced with soul-sucking hatred. She squeezed her eyes shut, clamping down on the bloodlust, but the violent rage was overwhelming. The balance of saving lives wasn’t strong enough this time.

  Voices behind her. She ignored them. Power twisted through her blood like lightning, building inside her as she gathered it from the Sahar. It filled her body and poured furious loathing into her mind. The magic leaped to her command with greater ease than ever before, flowing through her more quickly, more naturally. It was almost as though the torrent of power that had burned through her when she’d broken the gold collar had cleared the pathways within her through which the magic could travel. But with the increase of magic came even more sickening rage and hatred.

  She opened her eyes, gasping for air. No time left. Madness spun through her head.

  Her hands rose in front of her chest. She formed an image in her mind of what she wanted: a wide battering ram of force that would blast the bridge away from them. Her lips peeled back in a snarling grin at the sweet thought of the coming explosion of power; it would be spectacular. It would be—

  She clenched her teeth. Not yet. She couldn’t lose control yet.

  “Now!” she screamed and flung both hands at the bridge.

  Magic burst out of her with a bone-shaking concussion. Tearing thunder. Screaming stone. A thousand pounds of cement shattered. Chunks the size of cars arched through the air. Deadly missiles of rebar shot outward, splintering nearby trees.

  “Shield,” Miysis yelled.

  Hands seized her and tried to pull her back. Rage erupted in her, violence begging to be dealt. She twisted, ready to destroy the one who dared touch her. A piece of cement caught her shoulder with the force of a bullet, cutting a stinging line across her skin. The pain snapped her out of the rage spiral. She met her father’s wild eyes.

  Chunks of the bridge crushed swaths through the trees on the other side. Little bits of cement rained down on them. Dust roiled, nearly suffocating. Only when it was finally silent did her father let go of her arm. She stared around. She hadn’t done that bad. Almost all of the bridge had landed on the other side of the base.

  “Piperel—Piperel—” Quinn’s mouth opened and closed as he stared at the stump where the bridge used to be. All the daemons held perfectly still, wide eyes taking in the destruction.

  “Move!” Miysis roared, making her jump. “Before the Hades regroup! Yaer, form up your squad to cover our retreat. Head for the Consulate. Go.”

  Bodies launched into motion. Daemons formed rapid, small groups, bolting for safety. Quinn grabbed her arm again. Miysis snatched her other arm, fingers digging in.

  “You have the Sahar,” the daemon snarled in her ear. “How did you get it?”

  “Ash,” she snapped. “You should stop jumping to conclusions about him.”

  “Where is he?”

  Grief lanced her. “Probably dead. Are you going to use my escape route or not?”

  He bared his teeth then stepped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Straight east into the trees. Once we start, we don’t stop. Now run!”

  She ran. Quinn followed on her heels, Miysis and his guards behind her. She focused on the Sahar against her wrist, cool and inert. Somewhere within it, Natania’s soul burned with eternal hatred. The more power Piper drew from the Stone, the faster Natania’s poisonous rage overwhelmed her.

  Leaping onto the remains of the bridge, its base sheared off nearly level, she charged toward the sheltering trees on the far side. Twenty yards farther and they would be safe. It would be impossible for Samael’s superior numbers to trap them in the forest.

  Darkness flashed five steps ahead of her.

  The blur of darkness resolved into solidity in almost the same instant that it appeared. Black material swirled around a tall figure wearing a hooded black cloak, the face beneath hidden in shadow. In one black-gloved hand it held a long-handled scythe. The being raised its other hand toward her. Before she could recover from the shock of its appearance, red light flashed in its palm.

  The magic slammed into her like a full-body tackle. She was thrown backward into Miysis, knocking him over. She seemed to fall in slow motion as two more black blurs flashed into existence, swirling into identical solid forms. Red magic erupted. The next blast passed over her head as she went down. Men screamed behind her.

  She hit the ground beside Miysis.

  “The reapers are dropping glamour.” Miysis leaped up. “Hell-spawned teleporters, damn them all. They’re trying to cut us off!”

  The Hades family was all reaper daemons. And powerful reapers could teleport. She’d forgotten that. She’d never even seen a reaper out of glamour before—but now she knew why they were called that. Or maybe how the Grim Reaper had come by his name.

  She pushed into a crouch and flung a hand toward the three reapers. Heat against her wrist. A spark of magic rose through her on a wave of bitter rage and bloodlus
t. The punch of power blasted toward the enemy. The reapers crossed their weapons in front of them. Red light erupted around them. Her blast hit their shields, shoving them backward several steps before dissipating without harming them at all. They were too powerful.

  “Blunt force won’t work on them,” Miysis yelled. “They’re too good at countering. Try something else.”

  “Like what?”

  She threw herself flat as a blast of power went over her head. If she drew any more power from the Sahar, it would make her crazy and she might end up killing Miysis and her father instead. On her left and right, more reapers appeared, bombarding the last handful of Overworlders from all sides. Miysis’s soldiers’ shields were shattering one by one.

  She made hooks with her fingers and slashed them. Power surged out of her in four white blades that sliced toward the reapers.

  Their forms blurred. In swirls of black cloaks and darkness, they vanished before the magic hit them. Piper spun toward the ones on her left. She would have to risk using more magic and pray she could hold against the tainting hatred.

  Black appeared right in front of her—a reaper swirling into being almost on her toes, filling her vision. She screamed and flung her hand up. Magic surged from her fist.

  Something hit the side of her head so hard her vision went black. Her legs collapsed but the reaper grabbed her before she fell. Her connection to the Sahar wavered and wobbled as the world spun. She gasped for air, trying to get a grip on the suddenly slippery power. It was there but she couldn’t grab it as her thoughts blurred. Wetness ran down the side of her head.

  The reaper’s arm locked around her throat. She kicked his knee. He grunted but didn’t let go. The air began to crackle and sizzle. Miysis lunged for her. Another reaper appeared between them, cutting him off. The feeling of magic around her swelled and black snapped over her vision as if she’d gone blind. The world went silent. The air vanished from her lungs. The ground was gone. There was no up, no down, no air, no sun. She couldn’t even scream. She was nowhere, locked in a vacuum of space with no beginning or end.