I pushed the lever up on the side of the wall, and watched the lens slide away again.
This must be the place—a telescope of fire. I’d be sending a few spies to linger in the shadows around this place, watching for anyone coming in and out.
For the first time, I was making some actual headway in finding the Baron. I was on the right path at last.
As I climbed the stairs, I wondered what Lila was doing in her room. Whether or not she was lying, my dreams still told me I had to marry her. It was just that marrying Lila meant I’d have to actually speak to her again. I’d have to look her in the eyes and ask her to tell me the truth about everything. If she was going to be on my side through this, as my dreams suggested, we would need to trust each other.
As soon as I returned to the castle, I would speak to her again.
I hoisted myself out of the opening, then stood. With a push of the button, I closed the hatch.
If I were honest with myself, I’d also been keeping plenty of secrets from Lila. I’d certainly left out a few key details about my past. Maybe that was the place to start.
I pushed through the door and into the night, feeling the wind rush over me. It seemed there was magic in this city if you knew where to look, just like Lila had said. With one last glance back at the telescope of fire, I pulled my cowl over my head. I slipped into the shadows, stalking through the cobbled streets.
But there ahead of me—someone caught my eye.
A woman walked through the streets, and my gaze homed in on her. I caught the dark eyebrows, a stark contrast to her pale blond hair. She was walking on the other side of the cobbled street with her hands in her pockets. Black eyebrows, flaxen hair. Heading right for the monument.
Alice.
As I moved for her, her head flicked up, and she caught my gaze. Her pale eyes widened, and she turned to run, sprinting back up the narrow, cobbled hill. As she did, she screamed, “Angel!”
A fleeing enemy ignited my predatory instincts, and I felt cold darkness sliding through me. She wasn’t the sort of mortal who created beauty like I’d just seen. She was the kind who’d burn it all down.
A dark smile curled my lips as I watched her run, screaming for help. I enjoyed the chase a little too much.
My wings spread out behind me and pounded the air. But as I lifted into the skies, two more mortals rounded the corner at the top of the hill. One of them raised a bow, aiming at me before unleashing his arrow. I swerved to try to avoid it, but it ripped through one of my wings.
Pain shot through my bones, into my back. There was nothing more excruciating than an injured wing, and it was still recovering from the demon attack. I veered down to the ground, fury burning away the pain.
As I careened toward the earth, another arrow shot straight into my chest, near my shoulder. I landed ungracefully, slamming down hard enough that I fell to my knees. When I looked up, I could feel my true face rising.
Wrath slid through my veins; my thoughts dimmed. As if from a distance, I watched myself rise to my feet. I ripped the arrow from my chest with a snarl.
There were more mortals running closer to me, screaming, “Albia awake! Kill the monsters!”
And they were right—right now, I was a monster. Because I wasn’t just the Angel of Death anymore. The reaper in me was starting to rise, and I wanted to rip them all apart one by one.
I was vaguely aware of another arrow slamming into my gut, but it didn’t matter. I was beyond pain now; King of the Fallen, moving for them like a wind of death. Carving my sword through the air, I cut through one of the bows. Then I brought Asmodai down through the arms of the man who held it. He screamed in horror, and I whirled, scanning for the next enemy.
I tuned out their screaming. This was a macabre dance of death, and I was the only one who knew the steps. I lost myself in the violence, feeling it feed me, filling the emptiness. Blood ran down the cobblestones in little rivulets.
And when I was done, only one person remained.
Alice. My bride’s sister.
“You’re a monster,” she stammered.
“As are you.” I lifted her by the throat. “But only one of us will survive in the end.”
Terror beamed in her pale eyes. I wanted to tear her head from her body, but in the recesses of my mind, I remembered I needed to keep her alive. I needed her for questioning.
As her jaw went slack, I realized she’d gone unconscious too fast. Had I driven her mad? I dropped my grip on her. I’d wanted her knocked out, but that had been nearly immediate. Some of the rage was sliding out of my body now, and I crouched down by her side. She looked dead.
The air smelled sharply of bitter almonds. I pulled open her mouth. There, resting on her tongue, was a small capsule. She’d poisoned herself to escape me.
My blood roared in my ears.
When I pressed my fingertips against her throat, I felt a faint pulse. There was still time, then.
As I turned to survey the street, I found carnage spread out around me. Bewildered, I stared at the torn bodies. I hardly remembered killing them at all. My worst reaper instincts had taken over, and I’d simply blacked out.
No wonder Alice had chosen the poison.
I stared at a rivulet of red streaming between the cobblestones. For the first time, I was starting to think my dreams were wrong.
Maybe someone like me should not be king at all.
26
Lila
As I walked through the candlelit stone halls, Samael’s face kept flitting through my mind. Despite his lethal exterior, I knew his heart was good. Under his scary side, he wanted to keep the city safe from pure evil. It was just that his methods were sometimes brutal.
But the real question was, would he be able to see the same was true of me? Would he see that, underneath, my heart was good?
I wasn’t so confident.
When I got to the ghost’s room, I found the door unlocked, and I slipped inside. The setting sun stained the room with ruby and violet. In the lurid sunlight, something caught my eye: the boutonnieres, hung upside down from the wall on ribbons. Samael had dried them all so he could keep them. I was sure they were the same ones—daises, corncockle, foxglove, and those beautiful bluebells.
Strangely, he’d even improved them. Now, they were wrapped in silver ribbon, and he’d added something even more beautiful—little feathers from the downy part of his wings, black shot through with gold veins.
There was something touching about this. Thinking of Samael, Venom of God, keeping that little girl’s wonky boutonnieres, trying to fix them. What on earth had made the Angel of Death interested in crafting?
But this wasn’t why I’d come.
I wanted to find out about the Harrower. My gaze flicked up at her symbol entwined with the raven. Simple and elegant lines.
I climbed onto the dresser. If ever I needed the help of the Raven King, it was now.
I touched the carving, pressing my palm against the symbol of the raven. As I closed my eyes, I felt the city’s magic in this stone.
Then, I knocked three times. “Raven King, give me answers.”
With the words out of my mouth, I felt a familiar, intense power rippling over me. It was the same one I felt when I walked through Dovren’s streets, the dormant magic under the stones. It felt powerful, protective, deeply connected to me. And now, it was stronger than ever. I was about to get my answers.
With a racing pulse, I climbed down from the dresser and slowly turned.
There, in the far corner of the room, sat a king on a throne.
His hair gleamed silver, draped over a black cloak with a feathered collar. His skin was pale and smooth, with green eyes that glittered like jewels. Beautiful … and oddly familiar. A silver crown rested on his head and a raven perched on his shoulder.
I could hardly breathe.
I’d thought he might answer me. What I hadn’t expected was to see him here before me.
“Raven King,” I whispered.
I stared at him, shock running through my body. The man I’d been praying to all these years was right in front of me, beautiful as hell.
I let out a breath. “The feel of your magic is very familiar.”
He rose from his throne, towering over the room in his black cape and clothes. “Have you come to understand what you are?”
“I think I’m connected to the Harrower,” I whispered. “Either that or I’ve gone completely mad.”
“You’ve not gone mad.” His deep, melodic voice thrummed along my skin, and his gaze was so intense it made my heart race.
“I thought maybe the Harrower created me.”
“Lilith. Her name is Lilith.”
The name made me shudder with a buried recognition. “Did she raise me from the soil?”
He took a step closer to me. “In a way.”
“What do you mean?”
“You must understand that what is written about demons is not entirely true. Demons can feel more strongly than anyone. But when it gets too much for them, they suppress their emotions. They turn them off. They don’t feel a thing.”
“What am I? A demon? What are you?” My mind was flooded with all this information; I could hardly take in what was happening.
“I was mortal,” he said. “The first king to unite Albia. Lilith was my queen. She was a demon, yes. But she loved me. She’d carve that wherever she lived, even long after I died.” Sorrow gleamed in his eyes as he gestured at the carving—the raven and the moon. “When I grew sick with the black fever, she knew I was going to die. And I knew what she planned to do. She would raise me from the dead again. I wouldn’t let her.”
I drew a shaky breath. “Why not?”
“I wouldn’t come back the same. And I wanted a city to grow from my death. I wanted my spirit to live in the soil, in the trees and stones. If she raised me again, I’d be just another demon. So, I asked her to bury my head. It lays in the hill under Castle Hades. My death has fed this city with my power.”
I took a deep, shaking breath. “What happened to the Harrower—Lilith? Did she turn evil?”
“Long after I died, about a thousand years ago, she was captured by mortals and put in chains. I could hear her crying for me, but I could not do a thing. They called her the devil’s whore. They tortured her for months. They burned her over and over again, telling her they must purify her. Through the torture and burnings, her mind snapped. Her emotions shut off. But she didn’t die. The only way to kill a demon is to cut out her heart. She endured the most excruciating torture, and she grew to loathe mortals.”
Pity twisted my heart. “That’s terrible.”
Shadows slid through his eyes, his expression haunted. “They turned her into something darker.”
I stared. “And she ended up here. In this room.”
“She was engaged to Samael for a time. She was using him.” He looked at the carving, his expression mournful. “As you can see, she still thought of me. Underneath the icy surface of her emotions, she thought of me.”
My fingers twitched. “She’s been visiting me in my room. She certainly seems twisted. How am I connected to her?”
He took another step closer. Wind rushed through the broken window, toying with his silver hair. He reached for my face, brushing the back of his knuckles against my cheek. “I need you to know that I will always answer your call, Lilith. I didn’t know how, all those centuries ago. But I know now.” Dark pain tinged his quiet voice, and he sounded like he was speaking from the depths of hell. “Even if I don’t always show up like this, I can hear you. I can give you magic.”
I staggered back. “What did you say?” Ice slid through my veins. “Why did you call me Lilith?”
“You are Lilith. Grown from the earth, in the same city where my head lays buried. I saw to it that you came back, because the world needed you. You’re mortal now, but that will change. When the Free Men work their magic, your demonic powers will be restored. And your memories, too.”
Horror slid through my bones. “What? No. No! I don’t want to change.”
“You can’t fight the Free Men without more power.”
“But she’s evil.”
“Your soul is not evil. You must fight through her memories.”
I froze, and a wave of horror washed over me. “So … I’m the Harrower? The evil creature that will summon demons from the earth? The one Samael has been trying to kill? I don’t understand. How will I be summoned?”
The Raven King put a finger to his lips, then nodded at the door.
When I turned to look at it, I found Samael looming in the doorframe.
And when I turned back to the Raven King, he’d gone.
27
Samael
The setting sun beamed through the window, lighting her up from behind. I wondered what she’d do if she knew her sister was here in the dungeon, in chains.
In the dying light, her hair seemed to ignite with fiery colors. Her fragile, mortal beauty was deceptive. Under her delicate exterior, she was fire and iron.
And she was running rings round me—again.
“How did you get out?” I asked.
She looked pale, terrified. “Thing is, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
She looked down at her fist. Her knuckles were bleeding. “The ghost opened my door.”
I had told Lila that I’d never believe her about the ghost—the same lie she’d used in Castle Hades. And yet here she was, using that same lie. Only an idiot would do that. And Lila was no idiot.
As much as I’d resisted it, maybe I had to face the possibility that she could be telling the truth this time.
I took a step closer, feeling each one of my muscles tensing. Fierce bruises bloomed on her neck—maroon, violet. It looked like someone had tried to kill her. My protective instincts roared to the surface.
“Who did that to you?” I asked quietly. I felt like I was splitting in two.
“Lilith.”
She’d been in danger, and I’d refused to believe her. “The ghost?”
She stared at me, fear gleaming in her eyes. Never before had she looked so terrified of me. That look was like ice shattering in my heart.
“What happened to your neck?” I pressed. “She tried to choke you?”
No answer again. Wind from the broken window whistled into the room, rustling the drying flowers on the wall.
I hated this room. The very place was cursed with Lilith’s malign presence, and it hung like a miasma over every surface. I couldn’t explain why I’d come in here to dry the boutonnieres. I supposed I’d wanted to try to add a little humanity to the place—like a charm against Lilith’s evil. And Lila and that little girl seemed so perfectly human.
What a strange thing humanity was—all at once it was brutal and brilliant and idiotic and heartbreaking.
“I’m going to tell you the whole truth.” She looked like she was about to snap, her shoulders hunched, jaw tight. Her eyes shone with a ferocious expression. “Because maybe I need to be stopped. If I need to be stopped ...” she sputtered. “You have to do it.”
“What are you talking about?” I wondered if she was, in fact, losing her mind. “Stop what?”
She stared at me, and the wind rushed in again through the broken window, whipping her hair in front of her face. Her dark eyes seemed to be pleading with me. “No more secrets. Because maybe I’m not the good guy.”
All of a sudden I felt an overwhelming need to protect her. “Explain.”
“I killed Finn because I was scared of what he would say about me. I was worried about what you would do if you knew what I really was. I never knew where I came from until we went to the priory. Mum said she found me crawling from the dirt … a demon with black eyes.” Her throat bobbed, and tears gleamed in her eyes. “I thought if you knew the truth about me, perhaps you’d rip out m
y heart and throw me from the window. And now I think maybe I need to be stopped.”
Horror shot through my nerves, and my entire body went still. Disoriented, I felt like the world was tilting beneath my feet. “Where did you get that idea from? That very particular image of having your heart ripped out of your chest? Being thrown out the window?” There was only one explanation.
“Lilith. The ghost you thought I made up—remember that one? The one you’d never believe was real. She told me you would rip my heart out and throw me out the window.”
“She told you that, did she?” My chest ached, and I felt as if the room were dimming. “How is she still here?”
“It seems she lived on in the soil.” Her mouth opened and closed, as if she were debating saying more.
I stared at her. “And she is trying to convince you that you are evil? And that I will kill you?”
“Something like that.”
Of course she fucking would. If Lilith’s evil presence still lingered on somehow after death—of course she would attempt to ruin my marriage. In my entire long existence, I had never met anyone more skilled at deception. “Whatever Lilith left of herself here, whatever magic she is employing from beyond the grave—she is trying to manipulate you. She’s trying to ruin us, poisoning your mind with lies. You aren’t a demon. I can see in your eyes that you’re mortal. I can smell that you’re mortal. I can feel your emotions. I don’t care what your mother said. How do you know Lilith didn’t get to her as well? Or that whatever she said was the ravings of a mad woman? I’ve met plenty of demons over the centuries, and you’re nothing like them. You are mortal as sure as I am an angel.”
I heard her exhale a long, slow breath. She was shaking so much I knew her fear was genuine. “Can a mortal turn into a demon?”
“No.” I inhaled sharply. “At least, I’ve never known it to be possible.”
For a moment, my gaze flicked to the symbol carved in the wall—that malign symbol of Lilith. The Harrower had been tormenting Lila, hadn’t she? Mentally … physically. Regret fractured me. “I should have believed you about the ghost. Whatever it is.”
Rapture (Hades Castle Trilogy Book 2) Page 13