by Silver, Ruth
She hesitated before sticking out her hand. “Violetta Mercier.”
Mara turned to Leila and grinned. “You want to get out of here?”
Leila shot Violetta a look. Was this a good idea? They were supposed to meet the boys in less than two hours. How were they going to do that if they snuck out of the palace? Then again, maybe Mara would miss her appointment.
Jasper drove up to the front of the refuge and halted the horses. “We’re here.” He glanced back at Wynter.
“Yeah.” Wynter didn’t feel ready. The longer he waited, the more anxious he felt.
“The longer you wait, the greater chance Juliana will be asleep.” Jasper didn’t budge. “Oh, if Juliana says no, you can always ask another dark angel.”
“There isn’t time.” Wynter knew Juliana was the most likely to help, and at the same time the least likely to agree to get involved in something Wynter wanted. Besides, Juliana was the dark angel of the refuge. She was the equivalent of Edon to reapers, the head dark angel, if such a title existed. If Juliana refused him, all the dark angels at the refuge would do the same.
He opened the carriage door and climbed out. The more time he wasted, the less chance he had of saving Mara Dacre. Wynter stepped onto the grass and walked up to the refuge. It was a two-story old white house with thirteen steps to reach the porch. Did all entities involving death live in creepy places?
Wynter took the first stair, pausing as it creaked beneath his feet. He glanced down at the worn white wood, hoping it would hold his weight. He dashed up the stairs and knocked briskly on the front door.
Wynter could hear movements and voices from inside. “Who’s there?” a female voice asked.
Wynter squinted, trying to see in the dark. The door was shut, and he didn’t see anyone from the first floor windows. He took a step toward the left, noticing the window ajar and saw the interrogator. “I need to speak with Juliana. Tell her Wynter is here.”
“She doesn’t like you very much.” The female dark angel snickered. “But, I’ll relay the message.”
“Thank you.” Wynter waited by the front door, hoping Juliana would at the very least hear his request. He did come out of his way for her help.
“Where are we going?” Leila followed Mara through the hall, around the ballroom and toward the main exit. Were they just going to walk out of the party?
“Outside. Where's your boyfriend?” Mara asked.
“Our boyfriends had an errand to run. They'll be back in a few hours.” It wasn't a complete lie.
“That's a shame. I was hoping to borrow your carriage. We'll just have to steal one.” Mara didn't flinch as she walked outside with Violetta and Leila trailing behind her.
“Princess Mara, what are you doing outside?” a guard asked.
“Escorting my friends to their carriage. Do you have a problem with that?” She didn't wait for him to answer. Mara walked past four carriages and their drivers until she spotted an empty one at the front of the line. Torches lit the path outside the castle. It was a new moon and the heavens offered no light this evening.
“Why are you in a rush to leave the party?” Leila kept her voice low, careful not to let the guards overhear their conversation.
“Warner de Clare. Not that the name means anything to either of you. He's a persistent, vile creature who won't take no for an answer. Trust me, I need some space before I do something I might regret.” Mara stopped in front of the empty carriage. “Which one of you is riding up front?”
“I’ll figure it out.” Violetta stared up at the two horses and carriage. She took a deep breath and shot Leila a look.
The three of them would likely end up dead before the night was over. The good news—two of them were already grim reapers. Death wasn't avoidable, even for the undead.
Leila held out a hand, helping Mara climb into the carriage. Violetta took her position, and they rode away from the castle.
“Where am I heading?” Violetta asked. The horses trotted over the drawbridge and followed the path south.
“I need to know what happened to my sister, Princess Ophelia. Take me to the Blue Moon Tavern.”
Violetta rode in silence and followed Princess Mara's instructions.
“What are you hoping to find?” Leila asked.
“You were friends with Larkin. Whoever killed my sister is the reason your friend is dead. Doesn't it bother you not knowing who is responsible?”
It did bother Leila, for more reasons than Mara could ever know or understand. “It won't bring her back.” It was the truth. Even if they knew who killed Ophelia, they couldn't magically undo everything that transpired. Ophelia was dead to those she loved. She was a grim reaper to the few who knew the truth, the undead.
“It might not, but she deserves not to have died in vain. If I have to single-handedly take down whoever killed her, I will.”
Leila reached her hand out and rested it on Mara's arm. “You won't have to do it alone.”
“Thanks.” Mara didn't smile. There wasn't a hint of happiness in her voice.
Violetta pulled the carriage to the front of the tavern. She stepped out and opened the door for Mara and Leila. “Where to?” Violetta didn’t look pleased with being here.
Mara stared up at the rustic wooden sign swinging in the wind. It creaked and thudded against the panel of the building. With a sigh, Mara entered the tavern. Leila walked in behind Mara, wanting to keep her sister safe. This was no place for a young princess.
Four musicians stomped their feet, sang, and played instruments: lutes, a recorder, and an organ. “I'm going to talk to the bartender,” Mara shouted over the music to Leila.
Violetta stood by the door, keeping an eye on the situation.
Mara approached the bar. The barkeep flirted with a brunette patron in her mid-twenties. Not waiting for the man’s attention, Mara interrupted their discussion. “Excuse me.”
She was loud, persistent and the moment the bartender caught her gaze, he straightened up. He knew immediately who was in his presence. “I'm sorry, Princess Mara. What can I get for you?”
“I'm not putting beer in my mouth or anywhere near it.” She looked appalled. “I want to know what happened to my sister.”
“Oh, that. It's not good for business bringing it up.” He kept his voice low. “I already had guards tear apart the bar and interrogate customers. I lost business for days because they were scared of being seen in this place.”
“You'll tell me what I want to know.” Mara stared him down. “Or, I’ll have my father come in and shut down this establishment for treason, you little weasel.”
He rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his long, ragged dark locks. “I didn't know she was the princess until everyone made a fuss about her death. She didn't come here dressed like you.” He gestured toward her attire. “She was inconspicuous. Used the name Leila, I believe.”
Mara turned her head slightly to the side, shooting a look at Leila. She whipped her head back around, facing the bartender. “Tell me what else you know and I won’t involve my father, King Philip.”
He reached for a dirty white rag beneath the bar. He rubbed at the wood, polishing the surface. “I didn't see anything, but you hear rumors. People talk.” He averted his gaze. “No one around here thinks Larkin was guilty of killing your sister. We can't think of anyone who would want her dead. I'm sorry, but I don't have an answer for you. If I did, I would have told your father, when he came to see me.”
Mara turned and walked away from the bartender without another word.
“Thanks.” Leila weakly smiled and passed a coin to the barkeep. It was all she could offer. He tried to help, even if he didn't know anything.
Mara pushed past Violetta on her way outside. Violetta followed after her. Even if she wasn't supposed to die here, a lot of terrible things could happen to the young princess away from the castle.
“It's not fair!” Mara threw her arms up in the air. “My sister is dead, and for what?”
“We should get you back home,” Leila said. It was late and King Philip, at some point after the party ended, would notice his daughter missing. Leila didn't want to be accused of kidnapping the princess.
Violetta shifted her weight and grimaced, removing her shoes. “Damn blisters.” She stood barefoot in dirt.
Mara sighed. “Fine, take me home.” Leila helped Mara into the back of the carriage. They headed back to the castle, hoping no one had noticed the princess's disappearance.
Just after two, Violetta rounded the dirt road, catching sight of an empty carriage tucked in the woods, just off the path. Jasper and Wynter must already be inside. Leila and Violetta were late meeting them. Although the girls were with the reap, so perhaps things had changed. Violetta hadn’t seen Leila’s scroll to know what was going on.
Violetta pulled the carriage to the front of the castle. The torches remained lit but the festivities had ended hours ago.
“Goodnight.” Mara sighed and opened the door, trying to help herself down from the carriage.
“Let me help you.” Violetta jumped down and held out a hand, offering it to Mara.“Do you mind if we come in?” Violetta asked. “I'm starving. I'd love it if I could have a snack before we head home.” It was a long shot being invited back into the castle, but they needed to find their friends. The easiest way was with permission. She didn’t want to hurt the poor girl whom Leila was trying to save.
Mara hesitated. She shifted on the balls of her feet. “You have to be quiet. Everyone was supposed to have gone home hours ago.”
“We won't make a sound,” Violetta said. “Promise.”
Mara nodded and gestured for Violetta and Leila to follow her in through the main gate. “I can get you some bread and water from the kitchen.”
“Thank you.” Violetta mustered up the best smile she could offer. Her nerves were tingling. They had to get into Leila’s old bedroom, where they had planned on meeting the boys. “We really appreciate your help.”
Mara hadn’t gotten the answers she was hoping for tonight. Not that she was expecting much anymore. Ophelia was gone. She wasn’t ever coming back. Mara had trouble letting go though, especially with the knowledge that Larkin was innocent. Her sister was a good judge of character. If Ophelia was in love with him, there was no way he’d have killed her. It just wasn’t possible.
Mara would never give up searching for the killer. If it had been intentional, someone who knew she was the princess of Casmerelda, then everyone in the castle was in danger. She would watch her back.
Heading into the kitchen, she pushed the door open and her eyes widened upon seeing the two boys sitting on the counter with a dark-haired woman with short black wings. Mara opened her mouth to scream, but the sound never made its way past her lips. The dark angel covered the princess’ mouth, stopping time for all humans.
Leila stepped forward, to protect her sister. “What just happened?” Leila glanced at Wynter for an explanation. Mara appeared frozen, unable to move. However, the rest of the group was unaffected.
“She'll be fine after you've made your decision. You have a choice,” Juliana, the dark angel, said to Leila. “A soul exchange or death transfer.”
“I don't know what that means.” Leila glanced at Wynter, hoping he could explain what was going on right now. Did they still need the dark angel? Mara was alive. Her soul hadn't needed to be taken because she'd missed her appointment of her own free will.
“Time is running out.” Juliana’s voice was soft, calm.
Leila felt the slow burn against her thigh. Death would never give up. Mara's life was still in danger. “I don't understand. I don't know what either of these mean—soul exchange or a death transfer?” She needed an explanation before she made a decision.
The dark angel nodded. “A soul exchange will allow Mara to live, but as someone else. It's safer for her. A death transfer will take someone else's life, in Mara's place.”
Both options sounded horrendous. As a reaper, Leila knew the effect a soul exchange would have on Mara's life. She'd never be allowed to see her father again. She'd be outcast from her home, forced to start over someplace new. At least Leila had the other reapers; Mara would be alone. The alternative, someone else dying, was a horrifying thought. No one should be able to control who lives and who dies.
Wynter had brought Juliana here for Leila. If he hadn’t agreed to her terms, there’d have been no point at all. Every day he thought about his sister, Hannah. Her bright blue eyes and vibrant smile. Hannah’s laughter had always made his worries disappear. Wynter would give up his existence to see her again, but it wasn’t an option. He could save Leila from the same pain though.
Wynter cleared his throat and stepped toward Juliana. He knew what needed to be done. Although he wasn’t pleased with it, there were worse things that could happen to him.
“I agree to a death transfer, in exchange for Mara Dacre's life,” Wynter said.
“No!” Jasper's eyes widened. “Wynter, think about what you're doing.”
“I am.” Wynter didn’t hesitate in the slightest. He pierced his finger with the tip of Juliana's wing. Blood pooled on the surface, leaving sacred ink on his finger. He slowly unraveled his scroll and signed his name. The dark angel leaned down, smelling the sweet scent of the scroll and the dried blood. She placed a kiss upon the mystical paper with her dark lips. The scroll sizzled and burned up in her hands. It turned to a pile of ash.
Juliana disappeared and time resumed.
The scream lodged in Mara's throat vanished, as did the memory of the dark angel she'd witnessed. Something felt strange, but she couldn’t place the odd sensation. It was late, so she excused her weird response on tiredness.
“When did you get here?” Mara asked, seeing Wynter and another strange boy standing in the kitchen. She grabbed a mug and filled it with water, handing it to Violetta. Walking toward the counter, she cut a piece of bread for the girl.
“We got lost on our way out.” The mysterious boy smiled politely.
“I can lead you all out,” Mara offered. “Would anyone else like a snack before leaving?”
“No, I’m good.” Sweat glistened Wynter’s forehead. Perhaps he was nervous being in the presence of the princess? Although he hadn’t seemed nearly as troubled when she’d first met him. However, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d seen a boy look uncomfortable under her scrutiny. Mara loved that power, but her sister had always warned her to be careful with it.
“We were just leaving. Have a good evening.” He walked toward the hall for the front entrance.
Violetta sipped the water and took a small bite of bread. “Thank you for your hospitality.” She placed the wooden mug on the counter. “It was a lovely evening, and a wonderful party that your family hosted tonight—”
An ear-piercing scream ripped through the castle. Leila would recognize that voice anywhere. It was Mara's maid, Sophia.
“This way!” Mara jogged through the castle, up the back stairwell to her bedroom. Sophia lay in a pool of blood seeping from her head. Her eyes blinked; she hadn’t passed completely, yet.
“I thought she was you.” Warner de Clare stumbled forward. Sophia had plunged a knife into his chest in her last dying moments. Blood seeped from the edge of the wound. “A Stafford won’t get what should be mine.”
Mara fell to the floor, cradling her dead maid in her arms. Sophia's skin turned ghastly. Her eyes remained open, staring into oblivion.
Leila stood in the hallway, watching the scene unfold. She quietly removed the scroll from her thigh, reading her newest reap, Sophia Warde. The dark angel had done as promised. It made her sick to
her stomach. Leila walked into the room and bent down, gently running her palm over Sophia's arm. Her fingers tingled, and she imagined it felt strange for Sophia as she was dying. As she reaped the young maid’s soul, her fingers trembled with guilt. She’d been responsible in part for Sophia’s death. She’d begged for Mara’s life, and the dark angel had done her job, taking another living soul. Leila imagined that this would haunt her dreams for many nights to come.
Sophia stood over her body before glancing toward the window. She followed the sparkling lights to her bliss.
Warner de Clare pulled the knife from his chest, groaning. He held it out, protecting himself as he skirted the hallway, stumbling out of the castle.
“You’re going to let him escape?” Mara asked, appalled.
“The guards will be here soon,” Jasper said. They couldn’t wait around and detaining Warner wasn’t part of the plan. “We have to go, now.”
“I can't leave her.” Leila didn't want to abandon her sister again. Mara needed her now, more than ever.
“King Philip will be here soon,” Jasper said again.
The longer they took, the less chance they had of surviving. He’d probably blame them for Sophia’s death. Leila didn’t move. Staring at Mara made every bit of her ache. At least her sister was alive, but she wasn’t ready to part ways and say goodbye.
“He's right,” Violetta said. Heavy footfalls of boots clambered on the stone floor. The guards were rushing from the ground floor upstairs to the bedrooms. “If we don't leave now, we'll never get out of here.”
Mara wiped her eyes long enough to see the hidden exit in her room. “I can get you out of here.” Leila knew the way but hadn't want to tout it in front of her sister. Mara pushed the tapestry away to reveal a small door. “Follow the path down and to the right. You'll exit out the back of the castle. I can't help you once you're outside. You'll be on your own.”
“We'll manage.” Leila hugged Mara. “Thank you.”
“Let's go.” Wynter held the small door open and waited for everyone to get in. He stepped in last, closed the door, and didn't look back.