Rapture (Hades Castle Trilogy Book 2)

by C. N. Crawford

  “Any ordinary woman? Strutting around half naked? My wares?”

  “Are you going to just keep repeating me?”

  Holy hell. Now that stung. My cheeks burned, my stomach sinking. Suddenly, I forgot all about my escape attempt, the lacerating pain, and the ghost who’d tried to murder me. Somehow, this seemed like the worst thing to happen within the past hour.

  I straightened, smoothing out my nightgown as if I could reclaim my dignity. I needed to say something equally stinging, to make him feel the slap of rejection.

  “And I was only tempted by your stupidly, divinely beautiful face.” Ah, there it was, the sharp sting of my rebuke. “Forget I said that. You only look good because I haven’t seen another person in months. You know, there was a week there where I thought I would find a way to win you back. Then I came to my senses. You are arrogant and believe you’re better than mortals. I still don’t like you. You’re not nearly as amazing as you think you are. You make everyone think of death. It’s off-putting.”

  There. Dignity reclaimed.

  “You should not have left your room,” he said sharply. He turned, his eyes icy grey. The mournful look in them sent splinters of ice through my heart. “You'd be wise to let me forget you, Lila. You’d be safest that way.”

  “Safe from you?”

  “You tried to assassinate the Venom of God. You're lucky to be alive, I think. The only thing keeping you from harm was staying in that room. I will come get you when I need you. Until then, you will remain in there. It is best for both of us.”

  Desperation rose in me, pure panic that I’d be stuck in that depressing room again. “I think there is some magic in that room trying to kill me. The ghost woman with the leaves. Was that you? Was that part of my punishment?”

  “Ghosts again? Really?” He turned to walk away from me. “Oswald, my chamberlain, will return you to your room. I hope you understand now that you simply cannot escape. I gave you too much leeway in Castle Hades. I won't make the same mistake again.”

  “Wait, wait!” I shouted. My voice echoed off the stone walls.

  He kept walking, pulling up the hood of his cloak.

  “I might be going insane! ” I shouted after him. Fatigue from the magic poison earlier still racked my body; I wasn’t going to expend any extra energy unless I needed to.

  At last, this made him stop. He stood quietly on the stairs, not looking at me. Just waiting, his cowl raised.

  “I’m going mad in there. Inventing things.” I hated how hysterical I sounded, but I couldn’t face that room again. “I hear my name. I saw a woman in the reflection. She tried to choke me with leaves. She’s either a ghost or I’m losing my mind. And neither of those things are great. I need to speak to other people. I need to get out now and then or I will be a raving madwoman. I promise you!”

  His grip tightened on the railing. “It won't do for you to be insane.”

  “Good. I agree. It won’t do at all. Look at that! We have so much in common. If you’re going to keep me locked in your castle, I will need to speak to another person sometimes.”

  I sounded desperate, didn’t I?

  For the briefest of moments, he turned, sliding me a cold look. He drummed his fingertips over the railing. “The thing is, given the poor judgment you’ve already demonstrated, I’m not sure anyone would notice the difference if you lost your mind entirely. Would it be a loss to the world at all?”

  I glared at him, trying to stay calm. My jaw tightened. “I can see that you’re still angry, but I already apologized. And you are fine, aren’t you? You don’t need to belabor the point. Do you want a hair shirt and a public penance or something?”

  “It would be a start.”

  What was he on his high horse about? “It’s interesting to me, Angel of Death, that you have a moral problem with violence. I’m a bit perplexed by where you stand on that point, O slaughtering Venom of God.”

  “I never said I had a problem with violence. What matters is who you are killing, and if you have a good reason.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “And you’ve really never killed the wrong person during all these years? You never got bad information?”

  “There is something about betrayal that I find particularly odious. And that is your nature. I carefully consider my actions. I take care to ensure that I am on the right path. That is why I consult my dreams. You act in uncontrolled rage. You have no training, are undisciplined, and act on impulse without carefully considering all angles. You’re feral, like an animal. A common mortal trait, isn’t it?”

  My mind flickered with the memory of his True Face and the chains of fire writhing around him. “You think you’re superior to mortals. But you forget I’ve seen your uncontrolled side, Samael. You’ll have to come up with a better distinction between us than that. You want me to think that you have always carefully considered your actions? I know you’re lying.”

  He cut me off sharply: “Oswald and Emma will keep you company tomorrow. They can show you the castle interior.”

  I hadn’t escaped. On the other hand … I made some progress. I would be meeting with people. Thank the stars, I’d have someone to talk to. This was an improvement.

  He cast one last icy gray look in my direction. At that moment, I realized how badly I'd wanted his attention, even if I’d been arguing with him. For the past two months, I’d felt hollow, carved open. I’d take an argument over silence any day.

  “In Castle Hades,” he said, “you told me one night that you thought there was a ghost in your room, and that was why you got drunk. I believed you at the time. It was why you tried to escape—or so you said. It wasn’t until after you tried to kill me that I realized you lied about a lot. And your whole plan was to seduce me so you could try to kill me for the Free Men. You feigned fear of ghosts that you do not believe in. So forgive me if I don’t believe you about this new ghost in your room. But you can trust that you won’t get the chance to try to kill me again. Apparently, you can pick a lock, so I will not bother with that. But you do understand if you try to escape the castle to get to the Free Men, you will feel the effects of my wrath.”

  “I’m not lying,” I said. “This time.”

  He started climbing the stairs again.

  “Samael, if I could, I’d be hunting down the Free Men with you, because they are the real enemy. I understand that now, and you must believe me. And you have to know I’m on your side! Because whoever the Baron is, he stole my best friend and my sister from me, and he turned them into monsters. I want to hunt him down, just like you do. And I want to go after Finn for the very thing you hate so much: betrayal. If you let me free, I will help you!”

  I realized I was shouting at him mostly because I didn’t want him to leave—because I wanted to see if he’d turn those pale gray eyes to me once more.

  He paused once more on the stairs. “Soon, Lila, I will call on you for help. Soon, I will need you to marry me.”

  7

  Lila

  That … was unexpected.

  I felt as if I couldn’t catch my breath. “Well, I am certainly flattered, but at the very least, you’re supposed to look someone in the eye when you propose.”

  “It’s not a real proposal, of course. This is the job I originally hired you for. You are still working for me, remember? The Council of the Fallen requires that I marry a mortal. You are the one in my dreams. Nightmares, really. You will play the part. That is all.”

  Leverage. That's what Ernald would say. It was all about leverage. He still wanted me to be his wife. “Is that why you don’t want me to go insane? It would ruin the big show of a wedding if I was raving down the aisle?”

  “Precisely.”

  I held up my hand. “I need a ring, of course. To show how deeply in love we are.”

  He frowned. “A ring?”

  “It’s what mortals do when they are engaged to be married. And when you’re married, you get a second ring.” I cocked my head. “You fell five hundred years a
go. Have you not paid any attention to mortals during that time?”

  “I avoid mortals as much as possible, and I intend to continue.” With that final word, he stalked off into the shadows, leaving me alone once more.

  My lip curled as I watched him prowl away.

  Still, leverage was something. Now I knew why I was still alive. But the question was, what would he do when he didn’t need me anymore? Once he was crowned king, he wouldn’t need to keep me around.

  Maybe I’d need to practice being nice to him, even though he loathed me and was infuriatingly condescending about mortals. I’d plaster a smile on my face and charm him.

  As I started to climb the stairs, I heard footsteps echoing from the hallway above. A man with a slim build rounded the corner. He gave me a charming, crooked smile, his green eyes twinkling.

  “Oswald, at your service.” He bowed slightly. “Castle chamberlain.” A little raven tattoo peeked out from under his collar.

  So, he was a mortal like me.

  I crossed my arms in front of my chest, unwilling to give him the same view I’d given Samael.

  Leverage. The word took root in my brain.

  All at once, it occurred to me that I could gain more freedom in this castle if the servants thought I was important.

  “I am Lila, future countess. Engaged to the count. Did he mention that?”

  Oswald’s eyes sparkled. “I was, in fact, informed just moments ago. Congratulations. He has been very secretive about your presence here. I knew there was food going to that room, but not who it was for.”

  “I’ve been recovering from a terrible shock, and he is deeply protective of me. You know how love is.”

  “Not yet, I’m afraid.”

  “I was sleepwalking. Very relieved that my beloved Samael found me.”

  “You must be freezing. I will escort you back to your room.”

  I shivered, my feet frozen on the flagstones as I followed after him. With chattering teeth, I wrapped my arms tightly around myself. “What is a chamberlain, exactly?”

  “I do whatever the count wants me to do, and I make sure he is comfortable and happy while he is here. I make sure the rooms are stocked with whatever they need. Is your room well-stocked?”

  I shook my head. “It’s comfortable, but I don’t have clothes. And I’m running low on soap.”

  “You don’t have clothes?”

  I smiled. “A little oversight. I didn’t want to bother the count with worrying about it. He’s been so busy these days.”

  Oswald narrowed his eyes at my body, like he was sizing me up. “I’ll have some warm clothes sent to your room in your size.”

  Shivering again, I looked behind me as we walked through the halls. Shadows gathered in the corners. “Have you ever seen ghosts around here, Oswald?”

  “I don’t believe in ghosts, my lady.”

  “I suppose, then, you won’t believe that a ghost choked me in my bedroom.”

  He shot me a curious look. “Perhaps it’s a curse? Some dark magic to give the appearance of a ghost? Have you perchance angered anyone with magical abilities recently?”

  I cleared my throat. “Not that I know of.” Lie. “I mean, I can’t think of anything. Anyway, maybe I imagined it. In any case, Samael said that tomorrow you might show me around a little bit. My future home. I want to see everything.”

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  He led me into one of the eastern halls. Towering multi-paned windows let moonlight in over dark stone walls and wide, sweeping staircases. A few torches lit the halls with warm, dancing light.

  “How did you end up working here, Oswald?”

  He shrugged. “I grew up in Dovren. My older brother is inheriting the family home, so I had to find a job of some sort. I quite like this grim atmosphere. It suits me. And I believe in what the count and the Watchers do. They fight for a just cause.”

  “What they do …” I repeated.

  “Keeping order. Fighting demons.”

  Goosebumps ran over my skin. “Is it possible the ghost in my room is a demon? She just appears and disappears out of thin air, and she seems to want to hurt me.”

  He frowned, shaking his head. “Demons don’t do that. They’re as solid as you and I. As solid as angels. And there are hardly any of them around. The Watchers have seen to that.”

  Sourial had told me about the fallen Watchers—they had once been the guardians of mankind before falling from grace.

  “Tell me more about demons,” I said.

  Oswald frowned. “The count hasn’t told you?”

  “He is very protective of me. He thinks I scare more easily than I do.”

  “Well, they hardly feel anything,” he said. “No emotions at all. But they hunger to feel things, so they do all sorts of depraved acts in an attempt to feel anything. Torture is a favorite. Some are experts in seduction, but they leave their victims robbed of life, empty husks. Except the thrill burns up again fast, and then they need to move on to another victim. They’re the opposite of angels, who feel a lot. Rage. Love.” He chuckled good-naturedly. “It’s all very dramatic. I’m sure you know.”

  At last, we reached my little prison room. The door was still open from when I had escaped, certain freedom awaited me. Such an innocent time, thirty minutes ago.

  “Thank you, Oswald. I look forward to seeing you and Emma tomorrow.” But I paused in the doorway, not eager to rush back into the haunted room.

  He gestured at the open door. “You'll be fine, my lady. Even if ghosts are real, they can't kill you. It’s all illusions and tricks. Are you superstitious?”

  “Oh, yes.” I knocked on the stone wall three times. “I do that for luck.”

  “Then keep knocking, and find whatever makes you feel secure. It’s all mind over matter.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn’t entirely believe him, but I took a deep breath and stepped inside. A lantern stood on the dresser, and I flicked it on. Whether or not it was a fire risk, I’d be sleeping with the lantern burning.

  When the doors shut behind me, I looked around the room, taking in the shadows that seemed to seep from the corners.

  For a moment, I closed my eyes, remembering how it had felt to be so close to Samael. The pure power of his body. His heat radiating over me. I brushed my fingertips over my lips, imagining his lips grazing over mine. But as I did, an icy chill skimmed over me, the hair raising on the back of my neck. My eyes snapped open. I felt her here.

  It was just me and the ghost.

  8

  Lila

  I saw no signs of the ghost, but I thought I’d give her a warning anyway, in case she was still lingering around, invisible.

  I held out my arms to the side. “All right, you phantom twat. I'm not scared of you. And I know that your whole purpose is to try to scare me, so you might as well just give up, because I do not care about you, and I never will. You can't kill me. You musty wanker.”

  The little speech seemed to actually work; I felt the fear leaving my body.

  Exhausted, I crossed into the bathroom. I pulled off my nightgown and knickers, then turned the tap to start running hot water.

  I shivered as I waited. The castle air was freezing. Moonlight poured in from the tall window in the bathroom, spilling over the small stone room. It held an iron tub, in which I washed my nightgown every other day.

  Finally, the water filled the tub high enough, and I tested the heat with my fingertips. At least this would be a nice, much-needed distraction from my current debacle.

  But just before I stepped into the tub, I glanced into the mirror, and my heart spluttered. The ghost I’d just called a musty wanker was behind me in the reflection. She stood with her arms outstretched, hands hanging down; her hair writhed around her head like snakes, her neck and spine bent at odd angles like they’d been broken. Her head lolled forward, her face in shadow and covered by hair.

  My blood was arctic. “I'm not scared of you,” I said quietly.

&
nbsp; It didn't sound at all convincing.

  Clenching my jaw, I whirled to face her.

  But she was gone. It was just me and the steam rising from the bath.

  Good. Just an illusion.

  Then, when I chanced a look in the mirror again, a gap formed in the steam, which seemed to rise around a dark silhouette. Slowly, the ghost appeared again in the gap, and my stomach clenched.

  Without warning, one of her bony hands shot out and grabbed me by the throat. She gripped my neck hard, then shoved me against the wall so hard a crack echoed through the room. Pain racked my body as I slid to the floor. I tried to stand again, but the ghost dug her fingernails in deeper.

  Terrible gurgling sounds emitted from her throat. Strands of hair undulated before her face, covering her eyes. Rotten teeth jutted from her gums.

  In a panic, I slammed my left fist into the side of her head, but it was like hitting an iron wall. Pain exploded through my knuckles.

  For a ghost, this bitch was strong as hell. She grimaced, and she started rasping, “Whore. God will give you dirt to eat. God will fill your mouth with decay.”

  With her hand squeezing my throat, leaves filled my mouth, choking me. I couldn't breathe. Oh God, I couldn't breathe. I was suffocating on decaying earth and leaves, about to die, naked, on a bathroom floor. Frantically, I grabbed at her hair, like a drowning woman trying to grasp anything that would save me.

  The ghost leaned closer to me, whispering in my ear. “Samael will never love you. When he gets what he needs from you, he will kill you.”

  The words echoed around in my mind, and I clutched her hair harder, forcing her head down like I was trying to drown her along with me.

  And that was when she simply disappeared again.

  All the leaves and muck in my throat disappeared along with her. Gasping, I fell onto my hands and knees, the cold stone biting into my skin. I clutched my throat, sucking in air, one glorious breath after another.