Soulless (Maiden of Time Book 2)

by Crystal Collier

  “He overtook the church.”

  “Right bloody through. He ousted her for bein’ a woman.” He nodded. “There was an execution, there was.”

  Charles loosened his fingers that gripped too tightly across one arm. What was it to him if one of the Passionate had been put to death?

  “But it was a show,” the visitor continued. “A private thing for only the clergy. It’s said Kingdom loved Deiliey and banished her from civilized lands on penalty o’ death instead of plunging a sword through her. She ain’t nothin’ but a ghost.”

  Bellezza leaned forward. “Is this ghost in possession of a blade that can slay the Soulless?”

  The man rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s said that she was. Then, it’s also said she was able to look into a man’s brain and addle it all about, so what be true and what ain’t are nigh but impossible to decide betwixt.”

  “Any recent sightings?”

  His head shook. “Not in well past a century. My guess, she died in exile.”

  Bellezza grinned. “Fascinating.”

  “Now, you pledged a favor.”

  The girl’s grin dropped. “I let you live. How is that?”

  He yawned. “I was thinkin’ somethin’ a wee bit more enticin’.” His eyes scaled up and down the girl.

  Charles cleared his throat loudly.

  The young man jumped.

  “I think you are finished here.” Bellezza batted her eyes.

  Forty-Five

  Gold

  With the Soulless growing so bold, Kiren thanked heaven for Miles and Edward’s quick success in locating Bellezza. Intelligence among the Breeders had led them to this location, and while he regretted leaving Alexia so soon, she had insisted on attending to Ethel in her grief and exhaustion. His precious woman had such a good heart.

  “For the fiftieth time, the food was atrocious! How can you expect anyone to survive that merde?”

  Kiren rolled his eyes. For manners, even the poor put Elizabeth North to shame. He’d have to wash his ears with lye to ever consider them clean again. Lifting a finger to his lips, he shushed her and leaned around the corner of the building.

  The town square was still too full from market day, but he couldn’t risk waiting a moment longer. Most of the vendors had closed down their wagons, barrels, or display quilts, and gone off to find some dinner in this rustic province, leaving just the stragglers in their festive but still drab-colored attire.

  A royal blue gown and golden curls drew most eyes, as intended. Bellezza did always have a flare for the bold.

  Miles’s head appeared around the butcher’s shop across the street. He met gazes with Kiren and nodded. The girl didn’t suspect a thing.

  Kiren pulled back into the shadows. “Are you ready, Elizabeth?”

  She sashayed forward, brushing him with her ample breasts. Again he rolled his eyes, asking why God had plagued him with so promiscuous an ally.

  She held up the handkerchief-wrapped bracelet, the dulled gold visible through the cloth, readying it for her attack. Kiren shuddered, hating that this was necessary. Gold was the worst torture for their kind, like a live parasite gnawing at the flesh and infusing the bearer with fiery, if not deadly, poison. You did not employ gold unless you were aiming for a kill, which meant he’d avoided it all but this once. Bellezza had overcome the effects of iron and gold was the only thing left to restrain her.

  Lady North reached up and touched her temples. “For your pain, I am sorry,” she whispered.

  Blinding misery shot through his head.

  Blackness rushed in.

  Dirt pressed into Kiren’s cheek, a subtle ache forming into bruises along his ribs and calf. He blinked his eyes open. He shoved up onto an elbow and knee, heaving himself forward. Wooden planks brushed beneath his fingers as he leaned on the building, recovering his feet.

  Rustling pulled him around the corner, and he froze. The dozens of people who occupied the square lay on the ground in graceless heaps. Elizabeth knelt over Bellezza’s inert form.

  Clink. The golden bracelet snapped into place.

  Elizabeth turned and jolted, clasping a hand over her heart. “You recover so quickly!”

  He cut across the square. “How far does your range extend?”

  “Only as far as you can see.”

  He nodded and caught Bellezza under both arms, hauling her up and crossing to the butcher shop. Miles lay against the wall, his neck kinked to one side. Kiren slapped his cheek lightly, twice. The boy jerked awake.

  “What was...?” His eyes turned on Elizabeth.

  She straightened, lifting her chin. “Shall we away?”

  Miles climbed to his feet, gaze warily sweeping over Bellezza’s unconscious form. He met Kiren’s stare, the question in his eyes. Are you certain we have to do this?

  Kiren nodded. The trepidation in the boy’s stance gave way as he resolved to play his part. Kiren despised that they must now resort to underhanded tactics, but Bellezza sprang this mess upon them, and she would be the source of its undoing.

  Forty-Six

  Interrogation

  Bellezza’s shriek carried down through the ceiling.

  Kiren shifted in his seat and glanced up, pitying Edward who had the unfortunate duty of questioning her after she’d awakened. He turned to Miles. “Is she in pain?”

  The boy lifted an eyebrow and shook his head, muscles bunched as he braced himself against the wall. From his posture it was a clear lie. Through clenched teeth Miles hissed, “She’s not very happy.”

  Her screams elevated, curses ringing into the rafters.

  “Miles?” Kiren extended a hand. The boy hesitated. He shoved off the wall and touched palms. Kiren closed his eyes and dove through the connection, into Miles’s perception, into Bellezza’s head.

  Her vision seethed red. “Where is he hiding? The hen-hearted boor!”

  “Where is who hiding?”

  She cracked her neck from side to side, glaring at Edward through the iron bars of her prison. Men were vile things, and this one, with his delicate posture and fine, aged features, reminded her all too clearly of the “gentlemen’s club,” or Collectors she’d already taken the privilege of destroying. His calm demeanor sent hot prickles of fury racing through her veins, and she was determined to rile, if not murder him.

  “Your pristine master.” She grinned, giving him an innocent batting of the eyes. “The would-be king who orders you away from your home and bed to torture young girls—the one who uses you like a defiled serf.”

  Edward crossed his arms, his brow pinching. “Let us start again. The water you drank earlier possessed trace amounts of gold which will prevent you from traveling by mist for some time.”

  “You are a monster!”

  “I am Edward, and I wish you no harm.”

  She bit down. No harm? No harm indeed! After stealing away her most precious gift? All men everywhere wanted something, and he was no exception. Why, he was probably formulating how best to use or dispose of her this very instant. She lifted an arm, exposing a gold encrusted manacle, its iron chain dangling and fastened to the floor—the very shackle she’d worn for months, only now coated in gold. “Prove it. Remove this vexing cuff.”

  He nodded as though considering it—which she knew he wasn’t. “I do not believe you comprehend the trouble you have caused, young lady.”

  “I am not YOUNG!” The room shook from her shriek. Her arms trembled, nails digging into her flesh. She would bring the building down on top of him if she could, bury him in his ignorance. Wouldn’t that be a fitting death?

  He took a seat across from her, separated by the iron beams. His cornflower-blue eyes smiled at the corners, mouth twitching upward to match.

  How dare he mock her! She imagined the cuff falling free, his shock as she plunged a fist through his chest and watched the light seep out of his eyes.

  He plucked a thin wooden wedge from his pocket and began cleaning out from under his nails. Nails blackened by in
k.

  A scribe. The kingdom-monger could send no better than a lowly scribe to torment her? She’d apparently not done enough to exasperate him. Once she was free, she’d have to go after Alexia again, see if finger bruises across his future wife’s neck would be enough to earn her more than a cursory jailer.

  She growled. Edward didn’t even jump, but continued to work as though he was alone in the room.

  She flumped down on the hard stone and seethed, fingers slicing into her knees. Perhaps that’s why he’d been chosen. He was deaf or completely numb to terror. He should die. She should find the perfect way to kill him, something that spoke to his dignified poise and inability to ruffle. Perhaps something involving ice—

  “Indeed, I believe you are old enough,” he said, “to comprehend the number of innocent children who have lost parents, homes, and much, much more because one woman put a powerful weapon in the hands of brutal creatures.”

  A lump formed at the back of her throat, one she couldn’t swallow. She had once been one of those innocents, long, long ago...

  Rage pulsed through her.

  Where had they been when she needed assistance? Off pursuing their own selfish pleasures—the growth of their shiny Passionate community and the grooming of a perfect bride-queen. They were not concerned with outliers like herself.

  How dare he turn this on her? Edward’s master knew she’d been promised a place at his side, a future and an important role among them. The instant she had begun to believe it might be so, he’d fallen madly in love with Alexia and forgotten all but his own lewd desires.

  She blinked back a tear, furiously determined to show no weakness. “Pawns. They are only pawns for your master’s pleasure.” Those clear eyes met hers, and she had to look away. “I have freed them from future enslavement.”

  “Bellezza?”

  Her gaze slid back to his.

  “You have damned them to unknown suffering.”

  Damned them? She’d damn him!

  A hiccup burst through her lips. She covered her mouth. No, not now! Why must this always happen?

  “And when you interposed as an ambassador between Passionate and Soulless, you ignited a war which has caused yet more suffering and loss.”

  She tensed. That had been justified, and necessary—to keep them occupied while she dealt out revenge and freed several suffering souls. She’d known there would be a price. Hard decisions had to be made, and if the would-be king couldn’t make them, she would. Could they really complain? They were getting the war they’d desired for ages.

  Edward leaned forward. “Where have they taken the medallion?”

  She rubbed her arm. The dark night came back, the constant strain and exhaustion of remaining in the mist, watching, following the clan of Soulless into the woods near Wilhamshire and around a cliff of stone to the place where two trees leaned in and became one. They had fished in the grass and lifted a wooden loop, yanking up a hatch covered by vegetation that grew throughout the wood. She’d followed them down and through a series of black tunnels to arrive at one great cavern where starlight seeped through pinpricks from far above, and hundreds of Soulless loitered. It had almost been too easy, except for the way her heart had threatened to rupture from her chest with every breath.

  She turned away, disinterested. “I cannot fathom why you think I should know.”

  Kiren released Miles grip and sat back. “Right beneath us, all this time.”

  The lad nodded. “And now we know.”

  Forty-Seven

  Shredded

  Alexia rounded the corner of the barn and froze.

  A silhouette leaned against the wall. His frame towered over her with deep-set eyes, hollow cheeks and wide angular teeth. Brown hair landed in thin wisps, obscuring half his timid face, but Alexia couldn’t be deceived by the appearance as when they’d first met. Although they shared a birthday, she felt he’d aged years beyond her for the audacity of his gifts.

  “Miles!” She dropped her bucket of oats and threw her arms around him.

  He gasped, arms lifted awkwardly as if unsure where to place them. She didn’t care.

  “This is where you hug me back, you oaf.”

  His bone-thin hands patted her shoulders.

  Alexia rolled her eyes and freed him. “It is about time you came to see me.”

  “I’m not really supposed to...” His velvety voice melted her, leaving her knees weak. It was easily the most beautiful voice she’d ever heard, one she had missed so desperately.

  An uncertain smile twitched up his cheek.

  She stood back and huffed. “Are you listening in?”

  He lifted his shoulders, focused on the ground, cheeks reddening.

  She laughed and forced up the mental barriers Kiren had begun teaching her when she was a weakling prisoner recovering in Father’s home. “Supposed to or not, you are my friend, and I expect to see my friends when they are nearby. Is that understood?”

  He bit his lip and gave a single nod.

  “And I anticipate you will tell me all about your adventures while you were away.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “All of them?”

  An arm slid around her waist. She jumped. Soft lips landed against her ear. “In good time. For now we have more important matters to address.”

  She shivered and turned to embrace her fiancé.

  “Their hive is here.” Kiren pointed to the map, slightly east of Wilhamshire, just as Bellezza had accidentally told them. “And it resides underground—which is why we have never been able to locate it.”

  He glanced across the table at Lester and Ethel. The mist maiden bore deep exhaustion lines beneath her eyes, even after a day of rest. There would come a day when he asked too much of her.

  Fingers curled about his arm, and he grinned at Alexia, her lashes batting demurely. He still hadn’t told her of Charles’s disappearance, but as soon as he could spare Ethel, he would send her to find him. Would Alexia look upon him so dearly knowing he withheld that information?

  Lester cleared his throat.

  Kiren pulled himself out of the mental space and slid a hastily scrawled map across the table, a sketch of the hive directly from Bellezza’s mind. It showed three circles, like a target with connecting hallways. “When Miles accesses their thoughts to discover where precisely my pendant is being held, they will know his thoughts as well—including our presence, and possibly our plan. We have to move quickly, in and out, no room for error.”

  “Which is why you have us.” Ethel nodded.

  Lester winked. “Like lightnin’, they’ll wonder what knocked.”

  Alexia’s head tilted toward Miles, her cheeks stretched in her widest grin. Kiren knew how desperately she had missed him, and seeing her so happy, it added a measure of sunshine to his own joy.

  “We will unite in a single sharing, before he opens himself to them,” Kiren said. “I will serve as a distraction to draw them off. Lester, you will be in charge of finding an exit for Nelly...if we can locate her. Ethel, you will disable all obstacles in his way, keeping to the mist unless it becomes necessary to physically surface. It will be your responsibility to seize the pendant, if it can be done. Should you see failure is certain, you are to abort the plan and remove all operatives.” Kiren’s hand slammed the table. “I will have no casualties on this rescue. Is that understood?”

  They all nodded, Lester grinning.

  “Ethel, call Mae in. Let us finish our preparations.”

  “Sir.” She curtsied shallowly and exited.

  “I do not like it.” Alexia’s low comment in his ear made Kiren scowl. “Can this plan only be enacted on the moonless night?”

  He lifted her hand to his lips. “It is the only time the Soulless will be connected into one cognizant whole, the only time we can infiltrate their vast knowledge by accessing a single mind. If we are to discern where the medallion is being kept, we will have to sweep their consciousness.”

  “Yes, I am aware, but
I simply wish you would allow me to accompany you—so that should anything go wrong—”

  He caught her cheek, tilting his head. “Ethel will be present.”

  “Yes, but I could be as well.”

  He groaned. She knew his reasons for keeping her away. “Love.”

  Her nose flared. “You wish me to stay here on the pretense of protecting the innocents, but I can see through your excuses.”

  He was losing this battle. “Mae needs your help.”

  “And that is precisely it! I have seen what she can do.” She spoke through clenched teeth. “Mae is sufficient.”

  He cupped her other cheek and used his firmest tone. “Dearest, you are needed here.”

  She scowled and pulled free as Mae stepped into the room. Alexia said, “You will excuse me, I have lost my stomach for this conversation.”

  He watched her go and Miles averted his gaze, lips twisted to the side. The boy perceived far too much for comfort, even on scorched earth.

  Forty-Eight

  Emissary

  Alexia sat, fuming as the sun set. She flicked an ant off her skirt and glared at the horizon. Her gifts were beyond Kiren’s, beyond Ethel’s, beyond all their gifts, and he would not allow her to help? Why did he insist on treating her like a child? She was an adult in every sense of the word, and simply because he was her fiancé, he believed he could order her to inactivity.

  The crunch of grass pulled her about. Miles stood at the inn’s exit, head tilted, translucent eyes fixed on her. She turned back to the view.