A chill seeped down her spine, the spell shattering.
She snapped to awareness. That wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right.
No, no, no!
Ice curled through the room, its serpentine tail flicking at the back of her neck and raising goose bumps along her arms.
The priest’s words died off.
Kiren’s fingers bit into hers, his jaw clenching.
Darkness dropped over them like a curtain had been drawn across the windows.
Sixteen
Barrage
Alexia jerked out of her trance.
The chill of the air could only mean one thing.
The Soulless. Silhouettes obstructed the window panes from outside, multiple beings whose eyes would glow crimson when the sun set.
Kiren jerked her behind him.
She reached for the greatest weapon in her possession, the power to freeze time—even if the ache at the back of her head warned against it. She gripped her sword’s hilt.
Glass shattered inward. Kiren threw himself around her, blocking the deadly shards with his body. Feet reverberated behind her. She peeped under his arm as hooded bodies flooded into the small space.
Whiteness cascaded around them, a tunnel of cloud. The chapel faded completely, replaced by transporting fog, the hollow silence echoing in her ears.
Kiren’s arms tightened around her. She clung to him, mist settling on her skin. Calm permeated the silence like the embrace of a mother swaddling her infant. Alexia recognized the presence as clearly as she’d recognize Ethel’s soothing voice.
But what about the others?
Her heart stuttered, terror for Father, for Edward, Nelly, Lester and the priest, all still trapped in the church with those demons. What would become of them? Could they adequately fend off the Soulless without Kiren? And why hadn’t he stopped the ravenous beasts?
The haze faded.
Kiren’s head snapped up. He scanned the shadowed canopy of thick aspens, attention jerking to Ethel as she solidified in their periphery. “You should return,” he said to her.
“I will not leave you until the crisis is abated.”
Alexia recognized the lover trees from the same grove everyone had gathered in the previous evening. She caught Kiren’s chin. “You should both go back to them. They need your strength.” She placed a hand over the medallion beneath his coat.
He groaned. “I can only utilize that power under the dark moon, not beneath the sun.” She frowned and he pressed a silencing finger to her lips, head bowed. “And I am far weaker than I should be after the conflict last night.”
Alexia recalled the sallow hue of his skin the previous evening, and apart from the moment their bonding had begun, it had yet to regain its golden brilliance. Her grip tightened around the hilt of her sword.
Kiren placed a hand over hers. “The Soulless cannot taint anyone in the daylight. We have the advantage.”
Ethel shifted from one foot to the other, hands clasped before her. All three of them had tasted death last night. It had been only too real, and it was only too real now for Father.
“We may not be strong,” she whispered, “but we can still fight.”
Kiren’s eyes shot wide.
A high-pitched hiss zipped past Alexia’s ear.
Ethel gasped.
Light glimmered off a dark prong embedded in Ethel’s shoulder. A trickle of blood dribbled down her shoulder.
Kiren whirled.
Shadows streaked through the trees. Feet rumbled over the moss.
Kiren swung at the enemy.
A headache ripped through Alexia’s brain, time slowing. Blackness reared before her. She blinked her eyes open, fingers pressed into stone-like moss, its dampness cool beneath her gowned knees, but strangely not soaking the material. She squinted through the pain.
Kiren crouched in front of her, both fists raised, his cheeks set like flint. A cloaked figure hung in the air, flying backward, aimed to crash into several assailants. A dozen more walled them in, an entire armada of stilled bodies.
Ethel had collapsed to her knees and was frozen, digging at the weapon in her shoulder. She’d freed it an inch, despite the bloodied barbs tearing at her skin.
Alexia’s stomach heaved, burning bile racing up her throat.
How could she help them? Much more of this and she’d return to being bed ridden. Although her skills were meager, she would have to take her chances with a sword in normal time, or run.
She knew what Kiren would ask her to do.
But she was not Kiren.
She relaxed her muscles. Low growls hissed in her ears, movement writhing about her as she slipped the saber from its sheath.
Something smacked into her from behind. She stumbled forward, losing her grip on the weapon. She gasped as cold metal slithered across her neck.
The world shot back into sequence.
An arm looped around her waist, pulling her up, blade to her throat. The red-ribbed handle caught her periphery and she groaned, feeling like a fool. She couldn’t even keep hold on her own weapon.
Rot hit her nose, so thick she expected to asphyxiate on it as her captor addressed Kiren. “I would not do that!”
Kiren was frozen, one hand wrapped around the chain at his neck. Four of the creatures latched onto him. One kicked the backs of his knees, the others throwing their weight on top of his shoulders and toppling him to the ground. His jaw smacked the dirt, eyes a smoldering pike fresh out of the bellows.
The men wrestled Kiren up onto his knees, arms twisted behind. Darkness hung over the creatures, leaking from their skin as a distorting haze. Decaying spots mottled their faces, half-violet—as though they were meant for the grave, but the grave had refused them.
Heat radiated through the body pressed at her back, another of these decaying corpses. Her skin writhed.
John had explained there were degrees of Soulless, and that he had escaped with most of himself intact. Some of the Soulless had been so drained they were merely intelligent corpses walking the earth—until the moonless night when they became something more. Alexia never could have fathomed his meaning, until now.
Kiren’s chin lifted. She met his calming tides. Be strong, they said.
A man sauntered between them with spiked dark hair, sickly pale skin, and purple protruding veins. He turned on Alexia. His cheeks were hollow, flesh so thin his skull grinned through it. His eyes hid so deeply she questioned if they existed at all until they connected with hers. The pupils shone a brilliant crimson hue.
Seventeen
Relics
“Here she stands.” The voice sounded as narrowly stretched as his skin, a hiss on the wind. “So nice to finally meet you, Alexia Dumont.”
The tang of a tomb rolled over her. She gagged. The blade’s edge scraped her skin, sharper than she remembered.
“What do you want, Amos?” Kiren’s voice was calm, despite his ridiculous position on the ground.
“They tell me you have chosen a mate.” The skull said over his shoulder while peering closely at her.
“Who tells you this?” Kiren huffed. “And more importantly, you believe them? I thought you were a man of reason.”
The death grin swept away, although he still looked to be grinning through the natural arch of rotted teeth. “Even men of reason possess faults.” He stepped closer, his face inches from Alexia’s, acrid breath stinging her eyes.
She closed them.
“I tend to trust too easily, as you are aware.” The rasp erupted in a fetid breeze across her cheek. “Lucky you do not seem to share that quality.” He turned. “Or do you?”
Kiren’s face revealed nothing, as unmoved as stone. The only indication he’d heard the accusation lay in his defiant glare. Alexia couldn’t decide if she should applaud him for courage, or berate him for looking so dispassionate while a blade raked at her jugular.
A finger of bone lifted to her cheek and trailed down to her neck, uncomfortably warm, spiraling a burn
ing trail toward her heart.
“You deny you care for this child?” Amos asked.
A tremor ran through Kiren’s cheek, his mouth set. Part of her wanted him to shout and kick and profess his undying love. Another part recognized how perilous that could prove.
The skull tapped his chin. “She would make a fine snack.”
“So she would.” He had not just compared her to a meal, had he? Kiren’s eyebrow twitched, reminding her to re-hinge her mouth. “As you will never have the satisfaction of discovering that fact, what is it you want?”
“Tell the truth—for once,” the creature hissed. “Admit it! Have it out for the world to see. It is the least you could do to prove your love for her.”
The corners of Kiren’s mouth twitched upward. “You accuse me of having emotions? I thought you knew better.”
“Infantile! Do not toy with me!” A sharp nail jabbed the underlining of her jaw. She sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the stinging warmth and drip of her own blood.
Ethel growled from somewhere behind her.
The skull continued, “You are your father’s son.”
Kiren’s brows lowered. He spoke slowly, voice low. “What do you want?”
“Your charm.”
A smile quirked Kiren’s cheek. “I am afraid there are some things that cannot be shared.”
The skull snarled. She jolted. The chilly sword grazed her neck, stinging like ice across the skin. Alexia could not believe this was happening.
A flicker passed through Kiren’s frozen tidal waves. “You want it?” He bowed his head. “Take it.”
The skeleton reached for the chain. He stopped. “What are you playing at?” His attention flickered between Alexia and Kiren, the skin-tight smirk returning. “Then it is true.”
“You have the upper hand,” Kiren whispered. “You had best take advantage of the moment.”
Any second the others might appear, if they’d survived the attack. Alexia prayed they’d survived.
The leader motioned for another of the living corpses to step forward, a white headed boy, maybe ten when he’d begun to rot.
The youth caught hold of the chain. A tremor rattled through his small frame—the same reaction she had witnessed the first time Miles handled iron. The boy tugged, but the links didn’t move. Kiren was a marble statue and the chain may as well have been chiseled from the same block.
The young man pulled harder. No change. Panic widened his crimson eyes. He yanked again. He placed a foot on Kiren’s shoulder and wrenched backward.
Snap!
His arm popped out of its socket and rattled hollowly across the forest floor as he thumped onto his back. The palm lay open, facing her, the fingers scorched black.
Do not look at it. Do not look at it. She demanded her stomach to stop roiling and focused on Kiren. A playful grin twisted his scar.
“You mock us!” The skull sneered.
“Try it yourself.”
The leader’s lip quivered.
“We have been through this before.” Kiren’s cool censure sent a shiver through her bones. “You cannot have what you cannot handle.”
“Take it off,” the skull commanded.
“And how am I to do that?” He shook his pinned arms.
“You take it off!” He seized the weapon at Alexia’s throat and pulled her forward.
Sparks of pain lanced through her head. Her pulse quickened, palms beginning to sweat.
Standing over him, she met Kiren’s stare. His shoulders drooped, an apology locked in his overwhelming gaze.
Alexia slid her fingers over the chain. A buzz of energy tingled up her arm, but no pain like she had witnessed in the boy’s countenance. She locked her fingers about the links and tugged. A spike of searing whiteness shot through her brain.
A silent scream rocketed up from her core and she blinked free of the maddening pain to find a searing arm wrapped around her waist, the only thing keeping her upright. Her fingers still gripped his necklace, but it hugged his neck, solid as stone.
Had he caused that? Or did it come from her injuries? She had to believe the latter. Kiren would never harm her.
She let go.
Kiren’s eyes lifted to hers, regret dancing across the surface. He shook his head at the enemy, anger crinkling the corners of his mouth. “Try to reason this through your impossibly thick skull: it cannot be removed.”
One of his captors pulled a shock of his hair, wrenching his head backward.
Alexia tensed.
Kiren’s jaw muscles bulged, but no cry of pain escaped.
Cold metal bit her skin, like a pinch. She sucked in a breath. A coppery tang mixed with the cloying scent of decay as wetness slithered down her throat. She froze, unwilling to move, not even to breathe.
“You would rather spill her blood than feast on her?” Kiren jerked forward and was yanked back.
Fire spread across her neck, deepening with every instant. Her eyes stung, tears pushing their way through. Perhaps she and Kiren would never be married after all. Perhaps all of this was just a dream, a wishful fantasy neither of them would be allowed to realize.
The blade sliced deeper. Swirling white flashed through her. She gasped.
Kiren’s chest heaved, the veins in his neck bulging.
The skull chuckled. “Not much more and she will be beyond your skill.”
She choked, unable to swallow. Panic buzzed through her brain as warm liquid spilled freely down her neck.
This was it. She really was going to die.
“You want it that badly, let her go!” Kiren ripped against his captors, throwing one to the ground. Two more crushed down on top of him, slamming his chin into the moss. “I will not give it to you when you could slit her throat!”
The words sounded distant, like she stood on her balcony listening to them carry up from the yard. Warmth drizzled down her front. Her cheeks were cold. The trees shook about her. She leaned completely on the body behind her, unable to locate her knees.
“Spare her,” Kiren begged. “On my word, you shall have it!”
Time was ticking. She felt it in the slowing beat of her heart, the dimming clouds at the corners of her world. She took a shallow breath and the weapon penetrated deeper.
“I swear!”
Everything was shaking. Fire shot up and down her throat.
“Damage her further and I will hunt you, one by one. I will bring your enemies—!”
The forest faded to black, her ears stuffed full of cotton. She forced her eyes open.
Kiren stumbled to his feet. Darkness crashed over her, slamming into her like a four-horse carriage. The ground trembled. She was no longer on her feet.
Emptiness.
Eighteen
Deal with the Devil
“I will bring your enemies down so quickly you have no chance to contemplate the waiting hell!” Kiren shouted, trembling.
A raucous smile widened across the Soulless skeleton’s face. “I believe we have an agreement.”
“Swear it!” Kiren’s muscles coiled. Alexia’s face was draining from peachy to porcelain, the very life seeping through the slit in her neck. Red hazed at the corners of his vision.
“On my eternal soul, you shall have her, as she is.” Amos turned to his lackeys. “Release him.”
Kiren jerked free, adrenaline coursing through his system. He slid a fist around the chain he wore, the weight that had been his far too long. He fought to steady his shaking hands, to not tear the chain links free. He lifted the charm.
Cloaked creatures fell back.
“Careful now.” The Soulless leader cringed, crimson pupils wide as he dug the blade into her neck.
Rage blinded Kiren. Power surged up through every nerve, shaking his frame. He stomped. The ground trembled. Trees shuddered and leaned away.
The Soulless shrank into the woods, all but Amos. He stood firm, blade half an inch from permanently severing Alexia’s airway.
“You are going t
o lose her.” The hiss sent chilling shockwaves through Kiren’s veins.
Not much longer. She had seconds, seconds and he would be too late.
Kiren lifted the chain, pendant dangling.
Sickly fingers opened wide to receive it. Kiren seized the medallion in one hand and shoved it into the palm of the thief.
The creature shrieked. Wisps of smoke rose from its charring bone in a sickly-sweet aroma.
“This does not belong to you, nor will it ever,” Kiren spat. “I will be coming for it.” He let go, snatching the sword in the same instant.
Wind whooshed into the grove—either Lester’s arrival or Ethel’s movement—but Kiren didn’t have time to confirm which. Beings tumbled over one another, trying to escape. Alexia collapsed in his arms. He clasped the neck-wound, inhaling as the life pulsed from his body into hers...
Nineteen
Running
A choked breath penetrated the silence.
Fire!
Fire against her skin!
Magma encased her, consuming her flesh until nothing remained but the sparkles behind her eyes. She breathed.
The sparkles glimmered into butterflies that flitted up and down her arm. She wanted to bat them away so she could sleep. They became angry bugs, biting into her skin.
“Alexia?”
She opened her eyes. A blurry outline hung above her, silhouetted by a leafy awning and snatches of sky. She squinted against the light. An arm slipped around her back and neck, lifting her upper body.
His countenance solidified into a straight nose that flared erratically, high cheeks, a jagged white scar.
“Alexia.”
That this angelic being spoke her name made her happy, and then she remembered he was hers.
She threw her arms around his neck and he enwrapped her. Her entire body hummed for joy. He squeezed too tightly. She tugged at his shoulder, and his lips pressed into the crook of her neck. Alexia sucked in a breath, startled by the sudden intimacy and sparks of desire launching through her.
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