by Keri Arthur
I resisted the urge to rub my arms and said, “Why did you raise the Maniae?”
“Because they killed my master.”
It took a moment for her words to hit. Shit, she was one of Whitfield’s fledglings! One they’d obviously missed during the cull.
“Which master are we talking about?”
She gave me a long look. “You know which master. You are not stupid, young woman.”
“Then we are talking about Robert Whitfield?”
“Of course! How many others has the council allowed to be drained and killed recently?”
“To be honest, who the fuck knows? It’s not like the council actually advertises their business.”
“That’s true.” She crossed her arms and studied the fire for a moment.
As the silence stretched on, I said, “Why wait so long for your revenge, then?”
“Because while I have merely undergone the blood ceremony and not the conversion, Robert’s death was almost my death. It took a toll on my strength and my will.” She looked at me again, her face bitter and suddenly gaunt. “But I could have survived that. I could have survived his death and moved on with my life, had it not been for one discovery.”
I raised an eyebrow, and she continued almost savagely. “By killing Robert and declaring that his entire nest be erased, they have sentenced me to madness when my death finally comes and the conversion takes place.”
I frowned. “Why? I mean, it’s not like another vampire couldn’t help you.”
“But they won’t. Robert’s line has been sentenced to death—each and every one of us. I am the last of his fledglings-in-waiting, and no vampire would dare take me into his care for fear that going against the council’s edict would doom their own nest.”
My frown deepened. “Fair enough, but I still don’t see why you’d be sentenced to madness when you’re converted. I mean, you seem sane enough now.” Or as sane as anyone hell-bent on revenge could get. “Why would that change when you die and become a vampire?”
“Because the step from life to unlife is a traumatic one—not just because you die and are reborn, but because every new vampire is hit with a veritable sensory overload. It takes years for any newborn to learn to eat, walk, and talk, and it is no different for a newly turned vampire. That is why a fledgling’s master is so important. They keep us safe, keep us in line, and—most important—teach us.”
That being the case, I could understand her bitterness and need for revenge—and it didn’t make my task here today any easier. I might sympathize, but I still had a job to do. One I had to finish if I didn’t want to end up a victim of the high council.
“Look, the council’s full of bastards, we both know that, but murdering them isn’t going to solve your problem. You’ve killed two already. Why not call off the Maniae—or, at least, offer the council a trade?”
“And why would I do that?”
“Well, it’s not so much Whitfield’s death that has pissed you off, but the fact that you’ll be left in isolation thanks to their ban on helping his fledglings, right?”
She nodded, amusement bright in her blue eyes. I had a sudden suspicion she was only humoring me, that she was waiting for something—or someone—else.
I resisted the urge to look around, although every sense I had seemed to be on high alert, and the hairs on my arms were standing on end. But other than the increasing sense of wariness and the strange way the fire was moving, nothing appeared out of the ordinary.
I continued, “So with two councilors already dead, why not contract the council and offer a trade? Their lives for yours? It seems a sensible option to me—especially if all you really want is the opportunity to survive.”
She considered me for a moment, then turned her gaze to the flames again. After a moment, she nodded. “It is, indeed, a sensible option.”
“Meaning, I gather, that you’re not into sensible right now?”
“Not when it comes to the council, I’m afraid. They enjoyed Robert’s passing far too much when they could have—and should have—stopped it.”
And how, exactly, did she know that? She couldn’t—not unless she was there, and there was no way she would have been. Whatever else this woman was, right now she was still human. As such, she would never have gotten anywhere near a council meeting.
“So who’s your source on the inside?”
She smiled. It was a cool, calm, and altogether too-collected smile. “And why would you think I’d tell you that?”
“Because you have something planned that you don’t think I’ll survive,” I replied evenly, “And therefore you have nothing to lose.”
She laughed. It was a warm, rich sound, and the flames seemed to shiver away from it, as if afraid. I eyed the fire curiously. It really did seem alive, but that was ridiculous.
Wasn’t it?
God, I wished I knew more about not only magic, but also the creatures that inhabited the realms beyond my own. I had a bad feeling I might be confronted by one of them soon.
“You could be right,” she said, leaving me wondering if she was answering my thoughts or my comment. She studied me for a moment, then added, “but I’ve always hated those movies where the bad guy just blabs about all his plans, and then everything goes to hell and the good guy saves the day. So I don’t think I’ll be saying anything more.”
Well crap, I thought, and flexed my fingers. I was going to have to do this the hard way.
“Look, as I said, I’m not here to harm you. But by the same token, I will have to take you back with me.”
“And I,” she said calmly, “have no intention of going anywhere.”
“Please don’t make me force you—”
She gave a cold, humorless laugh. “My dear child, there is no way in heaven or hell you could force me to do anything. Now please, leave this place.”
“I can’t—”
She sighed dramatically. “I suppose it was too much to hope that you would.”
With that, she flicked a hand, the gesture almost casual. But there was nothing casual about the result.
Because the fire came to life.
Chapter Ten
THE FLAMES ROARED SKYWARD, FORMING A thick, columnar mass more than six feet tall. Fingers of fire shot out from its center, forming trunk-like arms and legs. There was no head, just a seething mass of flame. In the center was a gaping maw, from which came a low growl that crawled ominously across the silence, stirring fear deep inside me.
It tore itself free from the main mass of the fire and stepped onto the damp ground, dripping molten globules. The ground sizzled but didn’t burn, and the wariness in the air increased, the energy of it crawling across my skin.
It was as if this place did not welcome the fire demon. And if that were the case, would it do anything to protect the woman who had raised it?
I guessed I’d have my answer soon enough. I backed away from the fire and drew the ash stake. It seemed woefully inadequate as a weapon.
“Selwin, call off your creature.” But even as I spoke, it moved. Its steps were ponderous, as if its flaming trunk-like legs were a weight it could barely lift. I watched it warily and continued to back away. It might not have eyes, but it seemed to have an uncanny sense of my location, shifting direction every time I did. “It’s not too late to take the sensible course.”
She snorted softly. “There is no sensible course when it comes to revenge.”
“If this was just about revenge, you would not have been able to call the Maniae.”
The creature raised a massive paw and swiped at me. I jumped away and the blow missed, but the heat of it rolled over me, furnace-like in its intensity. Sweat beaded across my brow and began to roll down my spine—although I couldn’t honestly say it was all due to the heat. Some of it—most of it—was fear.
“This is about justice, not revenge. Closely related, but different enough. They stole my future, so it is only fair that I steal theirs.” Her gaze rested on me—a contem
plative weight. “You actually sympathize with my plight, so why go through this charade? Why not save yourself?”
“Because it’s either bring you in, or die myself.”
The creature swiped again. Fire sprayed across the darkness, splashing the ground around me, sizzling where it landed. I let the blow skim past my chest, the heat of it singeing my clothes and scorching the fine hairs on my arms, then raised the stake and slashed it across the creature’s body. The sharp point hit the creature’s fiery essence, slicing through it as easily as a hot knife through butter, cutting its trunk in half. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, like a great tree that had been sawed in two, it split asunder and fell, each half hissing and screaming in pain.
But instead of being extinguished, the two halves began to dance, to grow, until what stood before me was not one fiery being with limbs and no face, but two.
The stake didn’t kill them. It just created more of them.
Fuck.
I shoved the stake back into my belt, ducked under a blow from the nearer creature, and reached for one of the bottles of holy water. Another fiery limb whistled toward me, its flames trailing behind it like a whip. I ducked, trying to undo the bottle’s top as I did so. But this time, the blow didn’t whistle past. With a sharp cracking sound, the trailing tendril snapped forward, roping itself around my body, wrapping me in a ring of fire that set my clothes alight. I screamed, but somehow managed to get the top off, splashing water over my skin as I poured it over the fiery leash that held me.
The water extinguished the flaming cord around my waist, and a good part of the creature’s limb. It roared—a sound of anger and pain combined—and staggered backward, leaving my clothes smoldering and skin burning. I dropped and rolled on the damp ground, extinguishing the flames but not the pain. Then I noticed that where the droplets of holy water had splashed, my skin was already beginning to heal.
I grabbed another bottle and poured it over the bigger areas of raw, exposed flesh. My skin hissed and the pain sharpened abruptly, bringing tears to my eyes and sending a rush of agony through every nerve ending. Yet even as I clamped down on another scream, the fiery sensation turned to ice, and the twisted mass of burned flesh began to disappear.
But I had no time for relief, and no time to wonder at the healing properties of the holy water. I scrambled to my feet, barely avoiding one club-like foot as it thumped down where my head had been only moments before. The force of it shook the ground and almost knocked me back off my feet—and the sheer closeness of all that fire threatened to set me alight again. So I turned and ran. Not for safety, because I doubted there was any place in this forest safe from these creatures.
Instead, I ran for Selwin.
It was obvious I wasn’t going to beat the fire demons with the tools I had. The ash stake only created more of them, and while the holy water did work, I needed buckets of it, not the remaining bottle I had. So Selwin herself was my only hope. Short of running for the gates and hoping that Azriel could defeat these things, anyway.
And that might yet be an option.
But before I could get anywhere near the witch, a third creature appeared, stepping out of the fire to stand between us, its massive body flaring outward and upward, creating a huge barrier of fire that appeared all but impenetrable. It also meant I was trapped among the three of them.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I had no choice. I had to keep going. Selwin was the key to getting out of here alive, and if I had to go through one of these creatures to achieve that, then that’s exactly what I would do. So I grabbed the last bottle of holy water and uncapped it as I ran. The creature raised itself up even farther, towering above me—a huge sheet of flame that looked ready to topple down around me and burn me to cinders.
Oh God, this was going to hurt …
But I just kept running. The heat grew more intense the closer I got, until my whole body felt ready to burst into flame. Then I threw the water.
It arced through the air—a thin silver ribbon that seemed to get lost in the fiery maelstrom that was all but enveloping me. Then it hit the creature’s stomach and the flames there retreated, the creature screaming as a hole gaped open in the middle of its body.
A hole that I dove through.
Fire and heat and energy assaulted my skin, and for the briefest of moments it really did feel as if I were aflame. Then I was through, hitting the ground on the other side and rolling to my feet.
Selwin’s eyes widened as she saw me. She raised her hands, and energy began to crawl from them. She was attempting to raise more creatures.
I called to the Aedh within me, hoping like hell that Azriel was right, and that as a half-human I would be able to become Aedh when the magic of this place barred full-bloods.
I shouldn’t have doubted him.
The magic within me erupted, flowing through my body, snatching away pain and sensation as it began to change me from flesh to energy. I dove forward and wrapped my arms around Selwin’s waist, dragging us both to the ground. Her scream of anger became one of fear as the Aedh change swept from me to her, but it was abruptly cut off when her body and mine swept from flesh to energy.
I could feel her in me—feel the seething mass of anger and fear and shock twisting and turning like a malignant canker deep inside. The weight of her forced me low to the ground but I swept as quickly as I was able through the trees. The light of the fire creatures soon faded and the darkness closed in again, but the air remained alive with that odd awareness. So far, the forest had not reacted to anything that had happened. I could only hope it would remain so once I neared the exit, because I had a feeling this place could bring to life a far deeper and darker magic than what Selwin had called forth.
The gates came into view. For an instant blue fire flared across the wrought iron—a shimmer that was reflected in the old wire fence to either side. The energy of it slapped across the air, hitting like a ton of bricks and halting my progress in an instant. I hung suspended, unable to move, as that unseen force swept through me.
Then it was gone, and I could move again. I fled through the gates, saw Azriel, and called to the Aedh. The energy swept through me again, picking apart particles, separating me from Selwin, re-forming our beings into two separate people.
We fell to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. I rolled away with a groan, my head on fire and my heart pounding so hard it felt ready to tear out of my chest. In fact, everything hurt. For several seconds, it was a battle just to breathe.
Then a warm, strong hand clasped mine, and energy began to flow through me, batting away the pain and hurt and forcing strength back into my limbs.
Someone was moaning, and despite that influx of energy, it took me several minutes to realize it wasn’t me but Selwin. Which meant I’d put her back together okay, and that was a huge relief. I wasn’t exactly experienced at shifting into Aedh form with someone else in my arms. Nor did I really want to be—not when it took such a toll on my body.
I forced my eyes open. Azriel was kneeling beside me, his expression fierce. When his gaze met mine, the fierceness faded, as did the flow of strength from his fingers. But he kept hold of my hand and I was glad. There was something oddly comforting about the way his fingers clasped mine.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
I nodded. The movement, although slight, made my head pound, but it was nowhere near as fierce as it usually was after a shift.
“What about Selwin?” My voice sounded croaky, harsh. I swallowed heavily then added, “Did she reform okay?”
His gaze flicked briefly past me. “Almost.”
Almost? Oh, fuck! “What have I done to her?”
I tried to get up, but his grip on my fingers tightened, pushing me back down and keeping me still.
“There is no major damage. She is merely missing a few minor appendages. It could have been much worse, believe me.”
I closed my eyes. Minor appendages? Like what? God, he was right, it could
have been much worse, but that didn’t make it any better. Didn’t make me feel any better.
Especially when the groaning became hysterical screaming.
“We need to get her back to the Brindle,” I said, my voice almost lost in the wash of noise.
He nodded. “I’ll take her. You follow on your motorcycle when you are well enough.”
I pulled my hand from his, pushing backward and upright. The sudden movement made my head swim, and my stomach rose abruptly. I swallowed bile and forced a smile. “I’ll be right behind you in Aedh form.”
“Risa, you are in no condition—”
“I need to see this sorted out,” I cut in, a little surprised by the anger in my voice, and not entirely sure if its cause was guilt over my actions or his obvious concern about me. I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “The sooner we do this, the sooner we can get back to the business of finding the damn keys.”
His expression lost its warmth. He studied me for a moment, then said, “And the sooner we do that, the sooner you will have me out of your life?”
I eyed him warily. “It’s what we both want.”
“Yes.”
It was said in that same flat tone, and yet there was an odd hostility coming from him that made no sense. But then, nothing about this reaper really made any sense. Not him, not his actions, and not his reactions.
And certainly not mine.
He rose and offered me a hand up. I hesitated briefly, then accepted it, letting him pull me easily to my feet. Pain stabbed into my brain, and I had to close my eyes and breathe deeply for several seconds before the sensation eased.
“Yes,” Azriel said, pulling his fingers from mine. “It is obvious that you are totally okay.”
“Sarcasm does not become you, reaper.”
“And stupidity does become you.”
He moved past me. I took another deep breath, then opened my eyes and carefully turned around. Selwin was still on the ground. Her clothes—like mine—were shredded, hanging in fibrous bits from her body, but she obviously didn’t know or care. She was staring at her fingerless hands, her wailing getting louder and louder.