by Allison West
Leila walked over to Violetta and tightened the corset on the dress. "He's right. Mara has met Jasper."
Violetta glanced back over her shoulder at Wynter. "Oh come on. She's going to be busy taking the crown and being fawned all over. She's not going to care about us."
Jasper laughed. "I'd offer to stay back, but you are the most likely to find yourselves in trouble. If I stay behind, who would bail you girls out?"
"Thanks, Jasper," Wynter said. "It's nice to know I have a reaper brother I can count on."
Chapter 36
Wynter didn't wait to see Leila, Violetta, and Jasper off to Casmerelda. He assumed Jasper would drive the carriage and take them to Queen Mara's coronation in style. They needed to look presentable, and riding on horseback for several hours wasn't the way to go.
Wynter traveled west to the southernmost tip of Seora. As a dark angel, all the information came through sight, unlike being a grim reaper and receiving information on parchment. He'd had one vision, albeit it murky and quite painful: he'd seen an older gentleman with black hair and dark beady eyes.
He rode in daylight, gripping the reins of the horse tighter as he felt a second vision forcing its way into his head. It was painful and exhausting. He kept his balance on the horse as his sight went black. Flashes of blue light etched into his mind, causing his heart to quicken. His body could feel the horse galloping beneath him, but his mind was truly somewhere else.
Glimpses of blue light turned to a dark forest, bare of foliage. Not surprising for this time of year. The name he remembered, having drawn it with his fingers on the floor earlier, but the location within Seora he hadn't pinpointed exactly. He'd felt drawn to the southern region and hoped his feelings weren't off, or he'd be too late to save Benedict.
Another bright flash swept his vision, a cottage on a farm, a brunette with frightened eyes, and a crow. Red seared his vision and caused pain through his chest, forcing him to double over. His hands shook as he held on to the horse, willing himself to survive. Juliana might have said dark angels couldn't die, but Wynter wasn't too sure he believed her right now. It felt as though a blade had pierced his heart. He just wasn't sure who was on the other side of the dagger.
Bright red turned to swirls of blood, dribbling in patterns that Wynter began to see for what they were, a map of the land. The blood slid from his home in Vera like a river coursing toward the sea. The destination was the city of Kane. The blood pooled on the map, showing him exactly where to go.
Wynter's eyes flashed open, and the approaching forest thick with barren trees stood between him and fate. He urged the horse onward, wiping sweat from his brow as he steered around stumps and ducked low-hanging branches. In the distance, he could see a hunter with a bow in his hand and a quiver on his back. Unlike the forest between Casmerelda and Vera, this one was less dense but more troublesome to cross through. There was also a wealth of animals and life, providing food for the local population.
It took a little over an hour to maneuver through the forest, and then he was in the clear, riding through empty fields and small farms. The land was flat and dry, making it an easy ride to Kane by sundown. Wynter slowed as he reached a small market. He knew how to save a soul, based solely on the texts he'd read, but what if he had to protect himself or Benedict? He hadn't thought that far ahead, and without Juliana's guidance, he'd need to handle any threats on his own. An old lady in white robes sold a dagger to him, warning him to be wary of Erebus. Wynter eagerly thanked the old woman as he examined the blade, having no idea what she meant by Erebus. The blade had stunning craftsmanship and shone with beauty. Wynter tucked the weapon into his boot. The knife would be hidden, but if he needed it, he'd be prepared.
Wynter watched the sky as the horse trotted toward Kane. Approaching the cottage that he'd seen hours ago in his vision, he climbed off the horse and surveyed the scene. There was likely no one else within an hour's walk. How would he save Benedict's soul from death? He'd seen it done once, when Juliana had kept Mara alive, but she'd done it only when asked. That request had required a death transfer or a soul exchange. This was different. As a dark angel, he had decided to save Benedict from death.
The sun slowly fell against the horizon. Were there trucidators watching from the shadows? Wynter felt as if strange eyes followed him, but he couldn't see more than shadows. Maybe that was for the best. Who wanted to see a creature that marked people for killing? If ever there were a perfect example of good versus evil, Wynter would consider dark angels good and trucidators evil.
He approached the darkened house, walking up the weedy path. No candles were lit in the windows nor torches burning inside. Was Benedict not home? Certainly, Wynter's vision would have informed him if he needed to be someplace else.
The brunette from his vision violently ripped the front door open, rushing outside. Her eyes darted side to side, a small blade in her shaking hands. She looked frightened. Her ivory dress was torn at the hem and brown with dirt. "You'll let me pass!"
Wynter held up his hands in surrender and took a step back. One glance at the young woman and he could see she was frightened, fleeing for her life. "Let me help you. There's a blanket with my horse and a small container of fresh water. Take it. You need it more than I do."
She pushed past him and ran down the porch steps.
"Where you goin'?" Benedict called after the woman. "Get back here!" His words slurred as he stumbled toward the door, his boots thumping with each step forward.
Wynter blocked Benedict from chasing after the young woman. Stepping forward, his hand forcefully gripping Benedict's, he leaned in, letting his breath hover just beside the drunk's neck. He refused to lay his lips upon the man's skin and Julianna had said nothing about a dark angel having to kiss a soul like a reaper. His breath, however, caressed the man's flesh, freeing him of his date with death.
"I'm taking the horse," she demanded, walking onto the grass.
Wynter released his grasp on Benedict, the job done. "Take the black horse. The white one's mine," Wynter said, not wanting to find himself without a ride later. He glanced back in the direction of the woman, to see which ride she stole.
She cocked an eyebrow, probably wondering if he was serious.
"Please," he said and smiled politely, opting to show her as much respect as possible.
She untied the reins of the black horse and clumsily climbed atop. "He's all yours. Best you kill him, or next time I will."
Wynter watched the brunette ride off into the distance. Her words repeated in his mind. Could it have been a coincidence, or was that a trucidator? What did the creatures Juliana spoke of look like? Could they take human form?
"What you doin' on my land?" Benedict asked.
"Asking myself the same question," Wynter said. Had he made a mistake? No, his visions wouldn't lie. He was here to save this man from death. His job was done, even if he didn't agree with it.
Maybe it wasn't Benedict who was worth saving, but the fact he'd have a kid in the future who would change the world. Wynter scoffed at such an idea. Benedict would make a terrible father.
"Where's the slave? Why'd you let her go?" Benedict asked, snarling. "Had her chained up for months and you ruined it! She was to be my bride! I could have had another bone for my necklace." He caressed a string of knobby white pieces on a worn leather thong.
"You really think that's how to treat a lady?" Wynter asked disgusted. "You're a pig!"
Benedict spat on Wynter's face, forcing the dark angel to take a step back. The girl was gone, safely out of harm's way, for now.
His fist reeled back and Wynter pummeled Benedict across the face, meeting his eye, leaving a mark that would last several days. "I don't get paid enough for this crap," Wynter muttered under his breath, walking off the porch and down across the grass to his horse. "Death is watching you, Benedict."
Riding back at night under thick, overhanging branches that blocked the moonlight proved near impossible. Blackness enveloped every path,
and Wynter wasn't sure how far he had until he'd reach the forest where a branch would surely poke out an eye or tripping over a stump would drop him on his head. It was dangerous to travel fast in unfamiliar territory. Unlike northern Seora where cottages were abandoned after the plague, there appeared to be no homes, only countryside for the rest of the journey to the forest.
Wynter had to trust his horse, and he took the ride slow and steady. He hoped twilight would come soon. The sun had to rise eventually, though in winter, the nights were longer than the days.
The silence that had followed them for hours stilled. The sharp caw of a crow forced Wynter's head to dart around in the darkness. He could see nothing, but he felt its presence, not solely the bird but the entity too. The crow flew down swooping toward Wynter, forcing him to duck and swat the bird away as a feather grazed his cheek. "What the…"
His horse stopped mid-stride, refusing to continue.
There was something in the path. "Come on, girl." Wynter tugged on the reins, encouraging the horse to go around whatever was obstructing them. There was plenty of dirt and countryside to tread through. That was the one advantage this time of year; the crops were done until spring.
Perhaps a band of thieves patrolled the trail to rob anyone passing by. However, there were better spots north with much more foot traffic.
The horse refused to follow Wynter's instructions. He patted her gently, hoping to coax her into submission.
"You're not going anywhere," a deep voice boomed from ahead.
The sound sent shivers down Wynter's spine, causing the hairs on his arm to stand on end. Had the old woman seen this coming? She'd warned him about Erebus. "What do you want?"
"You stole him from me," the gravelly voice answered. "He was mine! Marked for death!"
Wynter's eyes widened. Was this normal? Did trucidators typically pay a visit to dark angels after they had rescued a soul? What was going on? Why hadn't Juliana warned him of this?
"I stole nothing!" Wynter shouted at the voice in the darkness. "You wanted him dead. I only delayed the inevitable, Erebus." He tried the name on his tongue, waiting to see how the creature would respond.
"Seems I'm making a reputation for myself." Erebus stepped out of the shadow and beamed with pride. An eerie, red glow sizzled around the outline of the trucidator, allowing Wynter to see a glimpse of what was standing right in front of him. Even with Wynter sitting on the horse, the trucidator was taller than he was and broad shouldered. Muscles rippled across the creature's bare chest and arms. Surely, it was no man or woman, nor had it ever been human.
"He was mine!" the trucidator said, pointing a clawed finger at Wynter. "You must pay the price for what you've taken from me."
Wynter reached down for the dagger in his boot. What other choice did he have? Maybe he was immortal, but that didn't mean he experienced pain any less than his human self. The feeling of being ripped apart would be horrific. "You won't come any closer," Wynter warned the undead creature. "I meant you no harm. I was just doing my job."
"Your job?" Erebus repeated with a dark laugh. His amusement bubbled through his chest and echoed in the darkness outside. "You will pay for taking what was rightfully mine."
Wynter held the dagger in his right hand and held his left hand up in surrender. "Listen, I don't want any trouble. We can work together on this. If Benedict was a bad soul, you can go back and have him. I won't stop you." Wynter had met Benedict; he'd seen what a wretched soul the man had. Is this why the trucidator wanted him?
The trucidator roared in what Wynter could only assume was anger. "It doesn't work that way! You stole what was mine, and I shall have a soul for my collection!"
"Your collection?" Wynter really needed to catch up on the undead world, and fast. Maybe he should be spending a few more hours a week with the dark angels.
The beast lunged at Wynter, not seeming to care about the blade in the dark angel's hand until Wynter reached out, nicking the trucidator's arm. Sparks of blue and red shot out from the blade as it grazed the creature's skin. The cut sizzled and bled crimson, lighting the night sky like a show of shooting stars.
"Enchanted!" Erebus screamed, the roar shuddering the ground beneath Wynter's feet as the trucidator began breaking apart, piece by piece, lighting up the sky like fireflies. The horse kicked back on two feet, visibly frightened, but Wynter kept his seat.
"This isn't over!" Erebus warned with his final breath.
"It is for me," Wynter said. He glanced at the dagger in his hand as it emitted a strange blue glow, the same color he'd seen in his vision just hours earlier.
Chapter 37
Leila's heart quickened the moment she laid eyes on her younger sister. It wasn't the crown or the fact Mara was queen that had worried her. The girl had a look of determination on her face that clearly said she wasn't playing around. What was going on? Certainly, she'd seen the posters nailed to nearly every tree in Casmerelda, wanting Leila for questioning. Leila knew it was dangerous visiting the castle on the day of the coronation, but she had expected Mara would be too busy to notice Jasper. She had been wrong.
The ceremony had gone without a hitch as had the reception, but leaving had proven problematic, getting spotted on their way out. Could they slip past the new queen without getting detained?
Leila gripped Violetta's arm with anxiety as Jasper steered the horse-drawn carriage across the grass and slowed over the narrow drawbridge. If they went too fast or the horses got startled by the guards, it could mean a plunge into the icy moat below.
Leila didn't have to turn around and look out the window to notice four guards riding on horses and closing in. The clatter of the horses and the shouts of the men were enough of an indicator.
"I don't know how long I can hold them off!" Jasper said.
"What do you think Mara will do to us?" Violetta asked.
Leila didn't want to admit aloud that she hadn't the faintest idea. She'd never seen her younger sister so decisive. Leila had always been the passionate one. Perhaps Mara had grown into her role as queen.
"She won't touch the two of you. It's me she's after," Jasper said.
Jasper halted the carriage across the drawbridge, unable to escape as three additional guards stood with swords drawn.
A rotund guard stood at the center and narrowed his eyes sizing them up. "By the order of Queen Mara, you are to be escorted back inside the castle."
Leila guessed that not even the guards knew why they were chasing down the carriage. "Why? Did we forget something?" Leila tried to charm the guards, smiling warmly as she stepped out of the carriage. "We can always come back and pick it up tomorrow, or have one of our servants fetch it for us during the day."
"You're coming with us now." The guard reached out to Leila, grabbing her by the arm, his fingers digging into her skin, certain to leave a mark. "Grab the other two!" the rotund guard told his men.
Leila glanced back to see a guard shoving half his body into the carriage, and a moment later Violetta was being carried over his shoulder, kicking and flailing her arms. "Let me go! I'm fully capable of walking!"
"But will you follow us as ordered by your queen?" the guard carrying Violetta asked.
Violetta snorted under her breath. "Put me down, or I'll be certain your soul will go straight to Hell when you die."
The guard grinned and said, "As if you have that power. Then strike me down this instant!" The sky was silent and free of clouds. The guard laughed darkly, refusing to let Violetta walk on her own.
Had the guard known Violetta was a flight risk? Surely, if she were on her feet, she'd take out the guard and save herself. Maybe, on a good day, she'd save Jasper too. They seemed closer lately.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Jasper held up his arms in surrender, a blade at his back. He led the way back toward the castle.
Leila could see Mara standing with her arms crossed and the crown atop her head. If she hadn't been scowling, she'd have looked incredibly beautiful. Beside her, Leila not
ed a girl not much older than Mara whispering something into her ear. Mara nodded and then gestured for her to disappear.
"Your Majesty," the rotund guard said as they approached the entrance.
"Put the girl down. She's not injured; she's got two legs and can walk on her own."
The guard carrying Violetta rolled her off his shoulder and let her fall in a heap on the grass. "I've secured the prisoners. Would you like me to take them to the dungeon?" the guard asked.
The queen frowned and shook her head. "That isn't necessary. Bring them inside and be sure the rest of the guests are escorted off the premises."
"Of course, Your Majesty." The guard bowed and then ushered the guests who had been lingering into their awaiting carriages.
Violetta, Jasper, and Leila reluctantly followed the queen inside the castle. "Come with me," Mara insisted as she led them down the hallway and to a small room. Leila had known it as the Tea Room when she was growing up. It had two brocade sofas, a single matching chair, and a small table for serving tea and cookies.
Why had Mara decided to bring them in here? How much of Jasper had she remembered? Certainly, they'd laid eyes on one another at the ball, but she could not have recalled seeing him in the kitchen along with the dark angel.
"Have a seat." Mara held out her palm, showing them the sofas to choose from.
Jasper kept his mouth shut and reached for Violetta's hand, pulling her to sit down beside him. It left Leila on the other sofa alone.
Mara walked up to Leila and leaned down slightly, coming eye to eye with her. "I don't know you or the other girl, but seeing as you're keeping company with Jasper, who can answer some questions for me, I suspect you know more than most."
Leila glanced at Violetta and Jasper. The last thing she wanted was to put her friends and new family in danger. However, she couldn't tell Mara who she was, her sister would never believe her. Besides, as far as anyone was concerned, Leila had died. Although she'd kept the name, she wasn't the girl Mara was looking for.