by Rhyll Biest
For a moment he simply absorbed the softness of her pressed against him. But there was something missing, something wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was some ill-defined miasma of melancholy. In addition to the absent tap of her heart.
She raised her head. ‘What?’
‘I wish I could hear your heartbeat.’ As soon as he uttered the words he regretted them. Sorrow, sharp and piercing, flitted across her features. To protect herself, she’d given her heart away. Could she truly love another, him, without it? If he was honest with himself, he was angry at her for that. ‘Why did you do it?’
‘Trade my heart?’
He nodded. ‘Did Lore trick you?’
She shook her head. ‘It was my choice and I made it. She didn’t trick me.’
His fingers stroked her arm. ‘What made you think you had no other choice?’ A part of him didn’t want to know, and yet he had to ask.
‘Paimon killed my lover, and he killed me. Several times.’
Had he misheard? ‘What?’
‘Both my brother and my sister know how to kill and heal with poison. When Paimon took me prisoner, he stopped and restarted my heart several times. And he made me eat my lover’s heart.’
Horror lurked behind the calm words, her nightmare-soaked eyes betraying her facade of cool. He ran a hand over his face to contain the rage that battered his senses, flogged his brain. The hellhound inside him stirred, raised its hackles. He pushed it way. She needs me, not a giant hellhound. When he spoke his voice was strained. ‘How did you escape?’
She cleared her throat. ‘Lore rescued me. I’m a knowledge demon like her, so I think it offended her on some level. And in return for my heart she offered the wall, a way to take away all memories of my brother and my dead lover.’
He frowned. ‘Why did your brother want to kill your lover? Was there some grievance between them?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
Why did she always tell him one thing with her eyes and another with her lips? Her eyes, well, they spoke of a shame so deep she wanted to lie down and die with it. Why had he been so slow to connect the dots? Her brother had cursed him upon the announcement of their wedding. She’d had a wall built around her memories of her brother. And Paimon had not killed her when he’d had the chance, when she’d lain with a spear through her. Yet still his brain circled the idea like a six-legged hellhound. ‘Does your brother … love you?’
She flinched. If he’d blinked, he would have missed it.
‘He calls it that.’
Oh how carefully she flattened out the lines of her face, but it was all there in her eyes.
‘I see.’ And he did. He saw how tightly love and horror were knitted together in her mind.
She gave him a fierce look. ‘I’m not telling you all this just to take a fond trip down memory lane; I’m telling you so you’ll understand him better, so we can defeat him.’
‘All right.’ He trailed a hand down her arm. ‘What’s your plan?’ A chill settled over him at the thought of losing her as he’d nearly lost his brother. ‘Whatever it involves, I want to be by your side when it happens.’
She smiled. ‘I don’t plan to face him alone. He has the archdemon Cadere in his corner, and Cadere just happens to be Lore’s mortal enemy. I want to pit those two against one another and see what happens.’
He kissed her hand. ‘Your beauty and terror humble me. Tell me what to do.’
***
Valeda closed her eyes. His trust shamed her, and it horrified her too. What if pitting the two archdemons against one another achieved a negative outcome? What then?
Oh, the despicable weakness of caring about another. How Lore would mock her, and how her brother would laugh.
She’d only told Adriel part of her plan. The rest involved her taking the maleficence Cinna had harvested from Mnemnos. She would let it grow inside her, let it become a living, sentient thing with no boundaries, and she would emerge an archdemon. There was no hope that what remained of her would remember who she was and who Adriel was. Or what love was.
Love.
A familiar tickle in her throat, a mouthful of something that couldn’t be swallowed down. She winced as Adriel pressed the back of her hand to his stubble-roughened cheek, his eyes closed as he breathed in her touch.
It was odd that telling him what her brother had done to her had not been nearly as difficult as she’d imagined. She’d thought that letting Adriel in would be the worst thing, the death of her, but all she felt was an odd relief, relief that he finally knew her—in all her damaged, fucked-up glory—and still accepted her.
Maybe he really did care about her. The rope around her throat tightened another notch.
Cold sweat.
His eyes, trusting and silver, opened. ‘What do you want me to do?’
How did he do that to her? Lay her so bare with his trust? She’d been hiding from others for a lifetime behind shields of ice and indifference and knowledge, but she couldn’t hide from him. Guilt spilled from her lips. ‘I nearly got your brother killed.’
Silver eyes locked with hers as the words lay as heavy, steaming and fresh as entrails between them. ‘What?’
‘I was trying to lure my brother into an ambush but Mnemnos came in his place. She came for me.’
His hand dropped from her face, his eyes unfocused.
Look at me, she wanted to say. I need to see your eyes, silver and calm, soothing the panic and pulling me back from the nightmare.
She swallowed. ‘Did you hear me?’
He looked away. ‘It wasn’t you.’
‘What?’ How could he say that?
‘It wasn’t your fault.’
She shook her head. ‘You don’t mean that.’
Anger flared in his eyes.
Good. ‘You’re the Captain of Bloodshed and Slaughter. Strike me down, chain me, do whatever you see fit to avenge your brother.’
He frowned. ‘No.’
‘Why not?’ How could he do this to her?
‘You know why.’
No. Those words, his eyes, they fought for space in her already tight throat. Her throat stuffed full of feelings and gristle and pieces of a heart not hers. No wonder she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t he find a more honest way to kill her? ‘You think I want your love? That’s the very last thing I want.’
‘That’s what I thought you’d say.’
Lilith help her if he dared pity her. ‘I know what love feels like—and I’d rather wear that iron collar coated in rancid gorgon fat than wear your love.’
‘I know.’
She narrowed her eyes. What did that mean?
He studied her. ‘You think love is a trap but I don’t want to trap you.’
She laughed. ‘You’ve shackled me once already, literally.’
He nodded. ‘Before I loved you. And I unshackled you once that changed. My love is nothing like your brother’s.’
Panic, thick and meaty, suffocating, bloomed in her throat. In that moment she forgot how she felt about him, forgot everything except the need to keep her airways open and free to breathe deeply despite the way the tent had grown hot, small and airless. ‘Good, because I’ll never be able to love you back. I told you that.’ She rapped on her sternum as if it were a door. ‘Nobody home in here.’
He clasped her hand, silver gaze unwavering. ‘I know. Now, tell me what I need to do.’
She eyed him warily. He said he didn’t want to trap her but she could feel his love hovering, waiting to entomb her and smother her in layers of demands. It lurked.
She freed her hand, aware of her paranoia but unable to shake it. It wanted to guard her, like any good, loyal hound. ‘We’ll force a confrontation between Lore and Cadere by leading one to the other’s lair.’
‘How do you find Cadere’s lair?’
‘Cinna is already questioning the dead.’ Outlining the plan settled her, calmed her nerves. Just like plotting it had been soothing.
&
nbsp; ‘And me, where do you want me?’
If she had her way she’d keep him safe in their tent. But the Captain of Bloodshed and Slaughter would never agree to that. ‘Keep my brother occupied on the battlefield.’
‘You won’t let me fight by your side against the archdemon?’ Resistance flashed through his eyes.
‘Please. I can’t have Paimon anywhere near me while my sisters and I take on Cadere.’
‘All right.’ He raised her hand to his lips once more. ‘But promise me that you’ll survive.’
She smiled at the way he was already letting her go, proud of him. ‘Only if you promise me the same thing.’
***
Adriel couldn’t wait to leave the battlefront, shed his armour and hold Valeda again, to feel her slender but strong body moulded against him, his skin thawing hers, the evidence of her temporary melt trickling between their bodies.
Perhaps he expected too much of her to ask that she take off her armour, drop her shield and admit her feelings. Valeda Ronove had learned too young and too painfully not to expose her beautiful white belly to anyone. It was safer for her to play the princess whose touch froze.
If that was what she needed to be, then he should accept that. And if she needed him to pretend to let her go, he could do that too. ‘Pretend’ being the key word.
Ipos landed by him, his long face taut with news.
‘You found him?’
Ipos nodded. ‘At his northernmost fortress with his personal guard.’
He stared at his advisor without seeing him. ‘How many are there?’
‘Three plus Paimon. All with powers.’
Three. He met his advisor’s worried blue eyes. ‘I’ll take you, Justice and Spark.’
Ipos opened his mouth before shutting it again.
He frowned. ‘What, you don’t think that’s enough?’
‘It’s not that.’ Ipos cocked his head. ‘But perhaps with your brother injured it would be wise to bring the princess?’
His gut tightened. ‘That’s not possible. Get the others.’
His advisor’s eyes widened for a millisecond before he nodded and disappeared. As Adriel waited, Tane bounded to his side wanting his enormous, flapping ears scratched, and for a moment Adriel’s mood softened.
He looked up as Ipos reappeared with Justice and Spark. Justice’s armour gleamed as red as her eyes under the moonlight as she strode towards him, long-legged and a full head taller than Ipos beside her. Spark trailed behind them, her eyes glowing bluish white as she met his gaze.
They stood in a loose circle around him.
‘Before we leave for Paimon’s fortress, I hope everyone is juiced. We’re going to need everything we’ve got.’
Spark snorted. ‘No shit. Paimon’s personal guard has quite the reputation.’
Justice shrugged. ‘I’ve been dealing justice all week at the derby track. I’m as juiced as I’ll ever be.’
Spark raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that what you call it? Justice? I don’t think Club Thump would agree after some of those calls you made in favour of the Battle-snatches.’
‘Ladies, save the smack talk for another time; we need to talk tactics. Ursus, Paimon’s consort, is renowned for her lovely yellow eyes and toxic touch and spit. She needs to be taken out from a distance. Since her hair is the same bile yellow as her eyes, she won’t be too hard to spot.’
Spark nodded. ‘I hear she enjoys nothing better than leaving a trail of envenomated soldiers in her wake, hiding them so they quietly drown, alone, in their own fluids as their lungs fill during paralysis.’
Justice’s eyes burned brighter. ‘Lovely.’
Adriel’s gaze rested on Spark. ‘Spark, your job will be to draw Ursus outside the fortress and then electrify the shit out of her.’
The she-demon nodded. ‘Consider her crisped.’
‘Since her perfume and breath alone can cause unbearable pain, everyone else will need to keep their distance from her.’
The three nodded and he laid a hand on his advisor’s shoulder. ‘Ipos, I want you to focus on Paimon’s general, Borus—a bronze-skinned pyro-demon who is short, highly aggressive, very fast, and known to attack without provocation. Bury that little shit in provocation. Do your air-demon thing and pop in and out around him, turn him around, piss him off and lead him close enough to Justice for her to give him a taste of his own fire by turning his blood to molten lava.’
Justice smiled, baring her teeth. ‘It’ll be my pleasure.’
‘Who does that leave?’ Spark asked.
‘Paimon himself and Disarli, his she-demon bodyguard.’
Justice frowned. ‘Never heard of her.’
‘That’s because after several unfortunate incidents involving dozens of demons and humans slowly dying as they bled out from every pore in their body, she’s been banned from all realms and dimensions except her own.’
‘How does she induce haemorrhaging in others?’ Ipos asked.
‘If you meet her eyes when she’s in a nasty mood then that’ll do it.’
‘Jeepers.’ Justice kicked a rock across the ground.
‘Hit her from a distance—she’ll be the one with green hair—and whatever you do, don’t meet her eyes. I’ll be focusing on Paimon.’ He looked around at the other three. ‘Any questions?’
They looked at each other. He had his own question—whether Paimon’s curse might devour him even as he stood poised to strike the final blow. But with the others looking to him for leadership, he kept his doubts to himself.
‘Okay, let’s do this.’
Chapter 15
Valeda turned in a circle before staring at Cinna. This was Lore’s lair? ‘Are you sure this is the right place?’
Cinna waved a hand at the decaying wallpaper and water-stained ceiling. ‘I dunno, it’s got a certain fin de siècle charm.’
Lymenia wrinkled her nose. ‘Is that French for cat pee? Because I smell cat pee.’
‘Shhh, I think that’s Valeda. Not her fault, though. She’s got no access to shower facilities,’ Cinna whispered.
Lymenia shook her head. ‘You know, if you whisper something loud enough for everyone to hear, there’s really not much point in whispering it, dipshit.’
Cinna gave her the finger before trying to stuff a pair of abandoned opera glasses into her pocket.
Valeda ignored their bickering to take in the gently mouldering opera house. The abandoned theatre made her uneasy. As did the strange silence of her new house guests. If she couldn’t hear them, did that mean they were up to something, or just dormant? ‘I wonder why she chose this place.’
‘Because it’s as ruined and empty as her heart?’ Semya’s emerald green gaze met and held Valeda’s. ‘Where’s the captain?’
Valeda stepped around a rotting, broken floorboard. ‘He agreed to keep Paimon busy while we did this.’
‘He didn’t try to stop you?’
She frowned. ‘No. Why would he?’
‘Semya thinks the captain has a thing for you.’ Cinna made a love-struck face and affected a singsong tone. ‘Oh, Valeda, I love you. Please accept these intestines tied in a heart-shaped bow as a token of my love for you.’
‘Stop it,’ Lymenia growled. ‘You’re making me unwell.’
Semya rolled her eyes. ‘Only because you’re as stupid as Valeda and treat love like it’s an STD.’
‘Hey, I’m right here so shut your mouth.’ Valeda lit a candle.
‘It’s worse than an STD,’ Lymenia muttered. ‘It makes you weak.’
‘Upstairs, Cinna?’ Valeda raised her brows.
Cinna nodded. ‘It does, though, doesn’t it, Semya? Make you weak.’
Semya’s broad hips swayed as she took the stairs. ‘Yes, in a way, but whatever protects also inhibits. Think of a fortress. If the builder’s not careful they’ll end up trapped inside their stone walls.’
Valeda forced herself to breathe evenly. Did Semya have to use the term ‘trapped’? Already the narrow staircase
made her feel entombed, insulated from fresh air.
And so what if she had walled herself in? She’d survived, hadn’t she? Not many could have survived what she had.
Yes, you’re a survivor, so don’t listen to your stupid sister.
The sudden piping up of the inner voices made her blink. So, not dormant after all, just eavesdropping.
We have your best interests at heart.
Oh, sure.
The stairs widened into a foyer. Where ballet and theatre patrons had once gathered during intermission, now lay towers of books, some tumbled into piles, pages open, spines warped.
Lore sat at a marble table hunched over a thick tome, her feet bare and hair a mess, and her elaborate white silk gown crushed and wrinkled. Her silver aura lit the room like a chandelier.
She raised her milky eyes from the page she was reading as they approached. ‘Hello, have I forgotten an appointment?’
Valeda would bet that Lore, who sometimes read whole libraries in one go, had forgotten a meeting or two in her time. At least she didn’t seem angry. Valeda had been uncertain how Lore would react to being tracked to her lair since Lore’s most prized possessions were her secrets, knowledge and privacy—she didn’t like intrusions. ‘No, we didn’t have an appointment but we found Cadere’s lair.’
‘Oh?’ Lore closed her book, a ring on her finger glinting with the movement. Valeda’s eyes narrowed as she recognised her heart set in the gold ring. ‘Making jewellery out of my internal organs, are we? Nice.’
‘Just making sure I don’t lose it.’ Lore’s gaze swept the room. ‘As you can see, it’s a bit of a mess in here.’
‘I know you’re going to destroy it, but can we focus on Cadere for now?’
Lore’s lips stretched into a tight, wintry smile. ‘Very sensible. Forget about that pesky little organ and its sick attachment to things. Hearts always play havoc with your reason, even from a distance. You’re much better off without it.’
Undoubtedly Lore was right. Still. ‘I know. But I’d like to wait. Just for a bit.’
‘Of course. It makes little difference and I’m not a monster. You’re reluctant, so we’ll wait.’