by Karen Duvall
“In fact, you’ve met one of them. He was my first, the one for whom I wore that wedding dress.” She waved a hand at the flowing gown of black and red silk in my hands. “It was Soriel.”
My breathing hitched. Soriel’s scars. His missing tongue. Pharzuph must have punished him for not fulfilling his breeding duties.
Maria unknotted the ribbon and waved it in the air. “That’s all in the past now. I’ve accepted who and what I am, and my father and I figured out a way to create a new order of knights who will be as dark as we are.”
She was going about it the same way the Hatchets were: recruiting angel whisperers as squires to partner with their guardians and procreate. There would be two supernatural orders of knights at odds with each other. Maria and Pharzuph were planning a war.
Though I assumed deception was involved in their recruitment effort, I wanted to know how they did it. “What do you say to convince the angel whisperers to join your side?”
She shrugged. “They don’t know any other side exists.”
Of course they didn’t. The Hatchet knights were a secret order. The Arelim wouldn’t share that knowledge with just anyone, not even a whisperer unless she was destined for knighthood.
“We have friends among the Arelim who sympathize with our cause. They’re the ones we have contact the whisperers,” she said.
I thought of Harachel and remembered what Quin had told me. I bet Harachel was one of Pharzuph’s sympathizers. “The Arelim have a hive-mind. They would know who among their ranks would betray them.”
She grinned and tilted her head to the side. “Angels are individuals with free will. Their hive-mind communication is for the sake of convenience and not a requirement.” She started playing with the ribbon again. “The Fallen are only a notch below the Arelim and have amazing power they won’t hesitate to use for personal gain. Never underestimate an angel.”
I thought about my father and what he’d told me. He had said falling from grace didn’t automatically make an angel a demon. It was the angel’s choice which way to go and Barachiel had kept his wings so he could continue honing his magic, not to pursue evil interests. Both sides were magicians in their own right, and I supposed one or the other could wield a dark power for good, or a good power for bad. Pharzuph was a bad egg who knew how to manipulate good people.
“The whisperer is told about magic and how she’ll be a mother to an exquisite child with powers beyond imagination. Not all of them are won over, of course,” she said with a sniff. “But some are. We have five here now, all pregnant with our first generation of Darkest knights.”
“Four,” I corrected.
Her eyebrows furled in thought. “That’s right. We lost one, didn’t we? Pity.” She clapped her hands, startling me, and said, “Let’s see that lovely wedding gown on you now.”
I stared at the dress draped over my arm.
“Don’t be so modest, Chalice. We’re all girls here.” Her gaze roamed the room and I sucked in a breath when she stared down at the bed. But her focus switched back to me. “The dress is very sexy,” she said with a sly grin. “I’d wanted to be alluring for Soriel’s first time.”
I just bet she did. I laid the dress on the bed and kicked off my boots before shrugging out of my T-shirt and jeans. I peeled off my socks and wiggled my bare toes against the icy floor.
Maria stared at me as I lifted the dress to shake out the creases. I imagined my naked breasts were somewhat of an enigma for her as she was too skinny to have more than mosquito bumps on her chest. I didn’t mind her staring and hoped it reminded her of the humanity she had lost and might find again someday.
The only times I’d ever worn a dress were as a disguise. In my thieving days, I’d often wear whatever was needed to fit the part I was playing. A princess from a remote village in Northumberland, an aspiring model, an heiress, and even a pixie queen to show off to prospective clients the Vyantara’s connections with the fae. So it’s not like I’d never worn a dress, I just didn’t feel comfortable in them.
I slid the silky mass of fabric over my head and adjusted the bodice—what little there was of it. The shiny black-and-red fabric was loose as liquid and I wondered how it was made, but didn’t ask. I was afraid of the answer. The skirt’s hem puddled at my ankles and flowed around my feet like a lapping stream.
“Are you cold?” Maria asked, still staring at my chest.
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
She went to the door and opened it slightly to stick her head out. I heard her speak to someone before pulling herself back in with something black and furry in her hands. It was moving.
“Wrap this around your shoulders. It may smell bad, but it will keep you warm.” She handed over the writhing strip of fur, but I pushed it away.
“No thanks,” I said, peering at the creature to search for its face. It didn’t appear to have one.
“Suit yourself.” Maria slung it over the back of her neck and it coiled around her like a snake. She took a step back to study me. “That looks truly lovely on you, Chalice. You’re going to make Rafael a very happy angel.”
“How will he get here?” I asked, knowing the tainted veil wouldn’t allow a celestial being to cross.
She plucked a long black feather out from beneath her cloak. “With this.”
I had figured the Fallen’s feathers were a method of travel through the veil, but I thought it only applied to crossing from here, not the other way around. “When?”
Maria swiped the feather down one side of her face. “When? Now. He’s already here.”
“I need to speak to him,” I said. I had to tell him what I planned. He needed to know or it wouldn’t work.
Maria tsked and shook her finger at me. “No, no, no, my dear. Now that would be bad luck. You’re not allowed to see each other until the ceremony.”
twenty-four
UNLIKE MOST GIRLS, I’D NEVER IMAGINED what my wedding day would be like. However, if I were ever to have one I’d assumed it would involve a lacy white gown with a frothy veil and pretty flowers gathered in a handheld bouquet. This wedding was nothing like that. There was no church, no flower arrangements, no white gown and no congregation of tearful wedding guests to wish the bride and groom a happy future together. The groom in his white-winged splendor and pristine white tunic looked very much out of place. And very unhappy.
Rafe and I stood side by side in front of Maria’s throne. He stared down at his feet, his face full of despair. He never looked at me. Not once.
I tried to call him with my mind, but like my abilities, it didn’t work on this side of the veil. I was one hundred percent human here. He must know me well enough to believe I’d never willingly go along with Maria’s scheme. But he must also think his life as an Arelim angel would soon be ruined forever. And it was all my fault.
The throne sat at the center of a pentagram surrounded by an enormous circle. This must be where Pharzuph held his rituals and wielded his magic. The circle protected those within its boundaries and prevented anyone outside from interfering.
I was pleased to see Aydin inside the circle, but not so pleased to see the stranger standing beside him. I knew what he was and why he was here, and the hair at the back of my neck bristled around the scar of my old tattoo. This man was a shaman, and not the peaceful healing kind from American Indian lore. The markings on his arms and face identified him as a shaman of darkness, a doctor of curses. His black gaze burned into me, letting me know he would bond me to Aydin if I didn’t make good on my deal.
Bondage to a gargoyle was bad enough, but to be bonded to one who used to be the man I loved would be torture. The longing for a physical union would haunt us both. We’d be close in proximity, but miles apart in every way that defined us as human. Loving each other would never go beyond the memory of what that love could have been. Aydin might end up resenting me for failing my promise to bring him back. And I would resent him for my enslavement.
I tried to catch Aydin’s att
ention, but he was back in that trance again. Had he totally shut down? I wanted so much to run to him, hold him close to me, let him know that no matter what happened, I’d always love him. I hadn’t given up on us being together and never would. He just needed to keep the faith.
I saw Pharzuph, his hair whiter than snow and his skin a deep ebony that shimmered in the glittering light of the cave. He practically blended in with the rock walls like camouflage. But his eyes shone phosphorescent-green. I remembered Aydin telling me Pharzuph’s skin had been white when he met him, so I wondered if it had darkened with the passing of centuries or with the accumulation of his evil deeds. Possibly both.
My father was here as well. I wondered if Maria would let him give me away to my betrothed. If only I could talk to him. It felt strange being so near the people I cared about without getting to touch them. Barachiel was shackled, but I was not. I could use that to my advantage.
Outside the circle were Soriel, the four pregnant squires, and a few nameless fallen angels I hadn’t met and didn’t want to know. Maria hadn’t arrived yet. Was she primping for her debut as the knighthood’s grande dame? My gaze darted to Pharzuph, who hadn’t even breathed, not that he needed to. He looked chiseled out of the very rock he’d used to create this cave.
I took a risk and lunged toward Barachiel, literally falling on top of him. He jerked as he startled, but took barely a second to recover and grabbed on to me, holding me close. His mind delved quickly inside my head as he searched my thoughts. It didn’t take him long. He responded: Excellent, Chalice. Very clever. She will believe it and it will be her undoing. I will create a distraction to give you time to—
A rough hand, cold as frozen granite, grabbed me by the neck and yanked me away from Barachiel. Pharzuph held me aloft with one hand while using the other to pummel my father until he lost consciousness.
I kicked at him and struggled to break his hold, but he only tightened his grip. I saw Rafe from the corner of my eye and he strained against the iron ring attached to his ankle that chained him to the floor. There was confusion mixed with anger on his face. Instinct had him wanting to protect me, but logic made him analyze the situation and weigh his options. Smart angel. However, he didn’t yet know the motive behind my decision to marry him.
Someone was shouting now and from the screeching falsetto I guessed it was Maria.
“Stop it! Father, put her down right now. You’ll ruin the gown!”
He dropped me and I sprawled at his feet, the dress hitched above my hips. It didn’t appear to be ripped, but it was badly rumpled.
Maria reached down to help me up.
“Honestly, Father, what were you thinking?” She smacked his bare chest and he didn’t flinch. “Ugh! You’ll spoil everything!”
She stared up at her father, who was at least a foot taller, and seemed to listen to whatever he was saying. I hadn’t heard him utter a sound. Stomping her foot, she said, “I don’t care! So what if he hugged her? He’s her father, damn it. You know how special the relationship is between father and daughter.” She pushed out her lower lip in a pout.
So Pharzuph no longer spoke verbally to his daughter. Telepathy had become his chosen form of communication and I wondered if Maria was okay with that. I knew I wouldn’t be.
Maria fussed over my spiky black hair and smoothed the wrinkles from the dress. “There. Much better.”
“Barachiel was only wishing me happiness,” I told her.
“Of course he was,” she said in a soothing voice that I only half believed. It was hard to tell with her. “I considered letting him stand at your side during the ceremony, but I’m having second thoughts now.”
“I understand.” I had achieved my goal and felt satisfied now that Barachiel knew what I was going to do. “It won’t happen again.”
I glanced over at Aydin, who was fully alert now. From the intent look in his eyes I could tell he had watched what just happened and picked up on my ruse. He was the one who taught me how to lie, so he knew better than anyone when I wasn’t telling the truth.
Maria hopped up to sit on her throne and heaved in a long breath. “Shall we get started?”
I went to stand beside Rafe again. He still refused to look at me, staring solemnly down at his bare feet instead. Maria hadn’t provided him with ceremonial garb for this auspicious occasion. I supposed his angelic wings were enough.
This wasn’t a real wedding so I didn’t take it to heart. It was a charade, a parody, and the childish whim of an immortal who had chosen to never grow up. We were her entertainment for the day. I’d go along with all of it as long as I didn’t have to eat or drink anything because that could tie me to this side of the veil. I was still human, or mostly human, and I had every intention of staying that way.
“Rafael and Chalice, will you face each other?” Maria asked, her tone imperious.
We did as we were told, and Rafe finally looked at my face, his gray eyes filled with sorrow. He was my friend, my mentor, my guardian, and I hated that this was happening to him. But I swore on my life that it wouldn’t last for long.
“Hold out your hands with your palms up.”
We did. The blister that had once been my sigil for accessing the silver veil had healed to a white scar the size of a quarter. I gazed down at Rafe’s palm and saw that he had a similar wound, the rim around the puffy blister still an angry red. They had stolen his only way back home.
I swallowed the growing lump in my throat. There was no joy in this forced union, only pain.
Footsteps approached and I stiffened when a shadow fell over our extended hands. It was the shaman. He held a steaming rod with a circular iron at the end of it, which he tilted down in our direction.
Maria’s somber words echoed against the cave walls as she said, “The brand of our knighthood shall seal your union, and the blood you share will strengthen the bond between angel and child. Thus marks your loyalty to the Darkest knights until the end of days. Let it be so.”
Seal. Union. Loyalty. All sentiments I associated with Aydin and not this twisted farce Maria called a knighthood. Rafe continued gazing into my eyes, his own filling with tears. A single drop poised at the corner of his eye and slid slowly down his cheek.
The iron dropped onto my hand, the sound and smell of sizzling flesh making my stomach lurch. Then it burned into Rafe’s. The shaman grabbed both our hands and pressed our palms together.
Though our branding shed barely a drop of blood between us, it was enough. Rafe’s angel blood burst through me like an explosion and I struggled to stay on my feet. From the expression on his face I could tell something similar was happening to him. It was neither sexual nor intimate, but incredibly powerful. Our family bond intensified, but our relationship didn’t change.
The minutes of silence that followed were deafening, compounded by the throbbing pain in my hand. I glanced down at my bleeding palm to see the new symbol that branded me. It looked like a knife pierced through a winged heart. The crest for the Darkest knight.
“And now you may consummate the union,” Maria said.
Rafe scowled, then blinked. He finally spoke his first words since arriving here. “I beg your pardon?”
Maria sighed and folded her arms across her chest. “The mating. It must be done in front of witnesses.”
“I think not,” Rafe said.
The Darkest knight’s grande dame stiffened her spine and leaned so far forward I thought she’d tip right out of her throne. “What did you say to me?”
He cleared his throat. “My dear woman, you are mistaken if you believe I can perform in front of an audience.”
“You will perform and you will do it now!” Maria’s voice had reached an alarming pitch and I had a feeling she was seconds away from losing it.
Rafe gave me a hard look and I caught something in his eyes. He sensed I was up to something. He knew I had a plan for escape and he was doing his best to stall an act we’d both regret for eternity.
I was too
shocked by Maria’s expectations to think beyond the words consummate and witnesses. A public coupling? Stunned didn’t begin to describe how I felt.
“I require privacy,” Rafe said. “Without it, I cannot possibly do what you ask.”
Maria’s eyes bulged in their sockets and she looked ready to explode. Rafe didn’t react to her rage. He stood calmly waiting for her judgment or her orders. If she wanted what she asked of him, she had no choice but to comply with his demands. As for me, I was merely the vessel. My job was to lie there and accommodate my mate, but that wasn’t going to happen. Maria would get her fallen angel, but not the way she thought.
Like a switch had been flipped inside her ancient brain, Maria relaxed. She leaned back and crossed her legs. “Very well. Have your privacy, and sire a knight before you fall.” She snapped her fingers and Soriel stepped to the edge of the circle. “Escort them to Chalice’s room and wait outside until they finish.”
Soriel nodded.
“You have ten minutes.”
Rafe squinted at her. “Fifteen.”
Maria closed her eyes as if praying for patience. “Fine. Fifteen. But you better be worth it. I’m famished.”
Yet another humiliation Rafe must endure. A newly fallen angel was bound to be on today’s menu.
Once in my room with the door closed, Rafe grabbed my shoulders to pull me toward him. He glanced back at the door and whispered harshly, “What are you doing?”
“Saving our lives,” I said, and grabbed the bodice of my gown. I yanked at the fabric, trying to rip it, but I barely left a crease. “We have to make it look good.”
Rafe scowled so hard his forehead bunched down over his eyes. “Explain.”
I gave up on the gown and lunged at the bed, where I crouched to bury my hand under the top mattress. Yanking out the knapsack, my hand shook as I reached inside. My fingers touched the cold iron of the changing charm. I stood and held it out to Rafe. “Take it.”
He did. “What is it?”
“A very powerful charm that will change you into whatever you want.” I knew what he really wanted to change into, and maybe he still could after this was over. Right now I needed him as one of the Fallen.