by Riley LaShea
Yanking his catheter out with a grunt, he dropped it to the floor with the bag, rushing across the crumbling cave and hauling the door back with all his strength when it didn’t want to open.
Rocks in the cavern outside in slightly more stable condition, Cain limped down the steps to the rocky shore, turning at an unexpected bark. Looking to the small dog pawing at the foot of the taller set of stairs, he remembered Haydn’s threat, and, feeling less than up for the climb, he forced himself up the steps anyway.
Fingertips singed by the metal door, Cain tried to peer through the crack in it and the fog that rolled inside. Coughing into his arm, he at last saw the top two-thirds of the stairs and the doorway above engulfed in flame.
Nearly tripping over the dog as he turned back, Cain picked it up, stumbling back down the stairs. He didn’t need to worry about Haydn’s threat, he realized, because he was fairly sure Delaney was inside, and neither would be around for rescue or revenge.
Haydn had never, in her immortal life, missed breathing more.
“Delaney, dammit!” Hands pumping her chest, they still couldn’t make her heart beat, but Haydn knew she couldn’t be dead. Not yet. Not if she was still there, in the sylph’s body, the other half of Delaney’s soul in existence. “Wake up.”
Stone falling at her back, Haydn tried not to flinch with every crash. Whether Delaney started breathing again or not wouldn’t matter much if they were both buried beneath a mound of rubble.
“Thank God.” Cough a welcome sign, she pushed Delaney’s wet hair back as she turned her head to choke the water from her lungs. “Are you okay?”
Eyes shifting to Haydn, trembling hand coming up to close around her wrist, Delaney didn’t seem to know. And they didn’t have time to wait and find out.
“We have to get out of here.”
Last half of her statement interrupted by the sound of a motor, Haydn glanced down the channel that led to the dock. Castle blazing from inside out, the innocents most likely in their beds, or somewhere otherwise unprotected, she couldn’t imagine anyone inside making it out alive. Expectant as the boat curved around the bend and headed toward them, she lost all hope when she saw Cain through its open top. Getting out of the cavern alone. Escaping.
Heart charging as he came nearer, Haydn pushed up from Delaney’s side and lunged at the oncoming boat. Arms closing around Cain, she lifted him off the boat’s floor and they flew into the cave wall as the boat collided with the strip of rock that jutted ahead.
Tumbling into the water, Cain tried to put up a fight, but Haydn had his lace collar in her hands before they even resurfaced.
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t do this,” he said.
“How did they find us, Cain?” Sound of the motors still churning, trying to push the boat onto the rock shelf, they rattled Haydn’s restraint. “What did you do?”
“I protected Delaney,” Cain returned, and, glancing to the shoreline at the nonsensical response, Haydn watched her sit up, looking less than protected. “The Graeae’s eye,” he went on. “It has a blind spot. That’s the thing about those like Lilith finding these things. They think they know how they work, but they never know everything.”
Watching Delaney get to her feet, Haydn wavered between what she wanted to do to Cain and getting back to her on shore.
“I made sure Lilith couldn’t see. That she wouldn’t know Delaney was here. I did what you asked.”
Realizing, at last, what he was telling her, Haydn looked to the eye that shouldn’t be, realizing it was more than just damaged. It wasn’t his.
Gripping Cain’s chin in one hand, she jabbed her fingers into the socket and ripped it back out.
“This thing I put back in your face for you?” She held it before him, as Cain whined about his pain. “It’s the Graeae’s eye? The all-seeing eye? This is what led them here?”
“I protected Delaney,” he uttered.
“You killed my entire clan.” Haydn tossed the ancient oracle away to get both hands back on Cain.
“I didn’t want to.”
“Do you ever do anything you want to do, Cain?”
“Haydn,” he prayed.
“No more chances, Cain.”
Heaving him through the water, Haydn watched him catch air, before he thudded against the back of the boat and was dragged between its propellers. Just enough time for him to produce the first note of a scream, chunks of Cain scattered across the surface.
No concern left for him, Haydn covered the distance to Delaney in rapid strokes, pulling herself out of the water as Delaney rushed for the path to the castle.
“Everyone’s still inside,” she said as Haydn caught her around the waist.
“If they’re not out here by now,” Haydn forced Delaney to look at her, “they’re not coming. Come on.” They had no time to mourn. “This whole place is going to cave in.”
Huge sheet of stone breaking from the cliff face to prove the point, it crashed into the water, producing a wave that splashed them on the shore and forced the boat further up onto the rock shelf. Pulling Delaney to the water’s edge, Haydn fell back to get a running start, and bounded across the inlet to the boat. Pushing it off the shelf, she jumped in, startling at a bark behind her as she swung the wheel to pull up beside Delaney and get her into the boat.
Collapsing into a seat, Delaney clutched the dash as Haydn spun them again, steering through the tumbling rock, and riding out each wave that came under them from the larger chunks breaking off into the ocean.
When Delaney screamed beside her, Haydn glanced over to find Brooks paws-up on her thigh, eye ball dangling between his teeth.
“Blind spot.” Haydn yanked the Graeae’s eye from the dog’s mouth, hurling it back into the collapsing cavern behind them.
“Is Cain dead?” Delaney asked as Haydn swerved around the rocks at the cave’s entrance.
“No, he’s immortal.” Haydn slipped the boat into lower gear against her inclination to get away, until they could clear the rock field that had always made their island refuge both so unwelcoming and so secure.
“You mean, he’ll live like that?”
“Barnacle Cain,” Haydn uttered. “Hold on.”
Dropping back into high gear as they made it, at last, to open sea, a spotlight shined upon them and Haydn was blinded for a moment as she heard a boat cut in the water behind them.
“Stay down,” she ordered Delaney, seeing Delaney look back from the corner of her eye instead.
Glancing to the gauge as their speed tapped out, Haydn wished she’d pulverized Cain a second time for not stealing one of their faster models as she heard the other boat gaining quickly on them.
Gunshot taking out one of their outboards, Delaney gasped as they slowed even further, and when the second outboard went, leaving only one to propel them toward shore, all chance to get away was lost.
Getting to her feet beside her, Delaney clutched Haydn’s hand, seeming to grasp the extent of the trouble they were in as the boat came closer, and, taking their shot from a distance just as Haydn caught their scents, the hunters she should have killed when she had the chance still took the spineless way out, aiming for the easy target. Feeling the bolt coming in, Haydn’s world slowed to a hundredth its speed and she shifted in front of Delaney, familiar agony gripping her chest as it embedded in her heart.
“No!” Delaney caught her on their way to the floor, and Haydn looked up from the soft landing to see a tear drip from Delaney’s nose.
“It’s okay,” she accepted the inevitable with a smile. All she ever wanted was a moment of peace. Whatever came after, she no longer feared. “I’m done.”
“I’m not.” Watching more tears stream down Delaney’s face, Haydn’s peace was disrupted by the sound of Delaney’s heart rate, slowing little by little, by the feel of Delaney’s pulse starting to weaken.
She had hoped the sylph would die, and only her soul would be lost to it. She didn’t expect Delaney to fade too. Which meant Haydn’s
soul had to have fully merged with the sylph, not surprising after all she had done, and every part of her that made her who and what she was now lived in that boat with Delaney.
No time for Delaney to explain what she meant, Haydn realized there was only one way to give her more. More time. More chance. More life. Hand winding into wet, dark hair, she pulled her down, pressing her lips to the softest lips she had ever known.
“Ponam te minaret,” she whispered, turning Delaney’s head to the side, and, fangs emerging as if the body had always been her own, Haydn sank them into Delaney’s throat, sweet, sweet blood the last thing on her lips before she erupted from within.
There was heat, a sweltering rush. And power. And craving. God, so much craving, swirling into a maelstrom inside of her.
One by one, she felt her organs shutting down, like a machine turning off unnecessary components, until only heart and brain remained.
Shifting out from under Haydn, Delaney hovered over her, all boundaries and decorum tested as Haydn came into clearer view in the dark night - gray-toned, but sharp – and she realized how much she wanted her one last time. She thought she knew what it was to crave Haydn, thought she knew what it meant for Haydn to crave her. She couldn’t possibly know, she realized, could never have imagined craving anything like that.
Haydn’s body shifting, Delaney thought, for an instant, there might be a chance, but form losing its shape, the features of Haydn’s face smearing into an indiscernible mask of flesh, Delaney watched her dissolve, down through the boat floor, to slip back into elements. No way of knowing where Haydn’s soul went - no one knew the secrets of the sylphs - Delaney did know where it didn’t go, back into Haydn’s body.
Brooks whining beside her, he lamented Haydn’s loss as he had grieved for Kiara, and Delaney reached out a shaky hand for him, stilling at the sound of the other boat coming near. Its approach vexingly slow, the torrent of passion that flooded Delaney’s veins converged into a single sweeping emotion - fury – and, with each rock of the boat beneath her, Delaney grew more stationary.
“Where’s the other one?” a man asked.
“Is she dead?” another returned.
Sensing three separate people as if she could see behind her, down to the stances in which each stood, Delaney thought, if they wanted to know so badly, it was only polite to show them. Whirling off the boat’s floor, she hurdled into the discharges of weapons, poorly aimed in their surprise.
Knocking the woman back into the blonde man, she wrenched the crossbow from the other man’s hands, knowing it was the one that took the fatal shot, smelling the slight char where the metal had moved through the groove, the arrogance of conquest on him. Attitude rapidly overtaken by terror, it was no compensation for what he took from her, and, the entire world turning red, Delaney was ravenous.
Impulse to feed unfamiliar, she was uncoordinated in her first attempt, cutting her tongue on a fang before she sunk it into vein, and feeling blood spray against her chin as she gulped at the neck of Haydn’s killer.
Turning his body into the path of the weapon she could hear being aimed her way, Delaney felt him grow heavier as he ceased to function, and, when at last she pulled back to look at his frozen expression, eyes and mouth both gaping in horror, she realized she had the power to terrorize as well as to enthrall.
Red gaze sliding to the other two, her first impulse was to consume them too, to rip them apart for the parts they had played. First thirst satisfied, though, and the feelings she smelled different on them - sadness, terror, concern for each other - Delaney felt something else trickling in. Her own thoughts. Her own mind. As Haydn had told her, she still had her brain, and it gave her choice.
“Do you want me to kill you?” she asked them, and the hand that held the blonde man’s weapon trembled to the edge of the boat, releasing the bow into the water.
“Fiona,” he nudged the woman, and, far more reluctant, she let the man slip the gun out of her hands and toss it overboard.
Listening as both weapons sank through the sea, Delaney at last let the dead man fall, staggering as she turned and discovered firsthand how much a deraph could feel, as the loss and failure threatened to overwhelm her.
Leaping back across the water, she lurched into the boat as a shooting pain caught her midair. Whirling on the hunters in accusation, they looked more shocked than her, flinching into each other as Delaney screamed and fell to her knees on the boat’s floor.
Brooks barking at her legs, all agony seemed to roll beneath her skin, and Delaney reached back over her shoulders, peeling the fabric of her nightgown over her head as she realized nothing had gotten into her to cause the pain. Something was trying to get out.
At last bursting forth, the pain released its grip, and, hands on the boat’s floor to hold herself up, Delaney turned her head, spotting the tip of a white wing, dripping red with blood, hovering above the water. Glancing back to the hunters as she flexed, she felt the slight lift as they stared at her in disbelief.
“Brooks.” She dropped her gaze to him, and the puppy leapt into her hands.
Flex of her muscles turning into great beats against the night, Delaney lifted out of the boat, out of the sea, out of the world, to become one with the sky.
Last chore assigned, Lilith could finally focus on more pleasant things.
She hated having to do it. Truly, she did. With Haydn back in the house, she couldn’t take the chance, though, that someone might say or do something to send her running again. Perhaps, a little menial labor in her honor would remind them all that, now that Haydn was back, their positions were not just below Lilith, but below Haydn as well.
Simmering anticipation reaching ignition point as she walked down the hall, it flamed to life as she stepped through the bedroom door. Frowning as she looked to the bed and discovered Haydn not in it, Lilith’s smile returned in a flash of approval as her gaze went to the fireplace to find Haydn kneeling before it, as unclothed as she hoped she would be.
“Haydn.” Smile pressing into a grim line as she took a step closer, Lilith’s eyes fell to the pool of blood at Haydn’s knees.
“Haydn.” Voice weakening, she could make out the blood-drenched candles - earth, air, and water - and, eyes at last slipping over Haydn’s shoulder, she saw the outline of the target on her chest, gaping hole in the center, blood cascading down Haydn’s torso and over her knees.
“Haydn.” Tremulous hand sliding onto her shoulder, Lilith shrieked as Haydn whirled and grabbed it, sinking her teeth in and ripping away a chunk of flesh.
“Haydn!” Lilith stumbled backward as Haydn rose to her feet. Mind gone, she had only one purpose.
“Haydn!” Lilith cried again, but the thing that lunged at her wasn’t Haydn at all.
Door banging open, Lilith’s guards rushed into the room. Shoving the body away, they raised their weapons as it rolled backward across the floor, before getting to its feet.
Swinging his heavy scythe as Haydn’s body reentered his radius, MacIntosh cut through its neck as if it was paper, and the head that was once Haydn’s flew off the thing’s shoulders, rolling to look Lilith in the face as the soulless body collapsed onto her floor.
“No!” Lilith fell to her knees. “No!”
Staring into Haydn’s eyes, the yellow taint faded, and they shone as they had always shone - black as night - Lilith’s favorite time of day.
Epilogue
She had less faith in prayer than she once did. As a young novitiate, she believed prayer could right all the wrongs of the world, that it had limitless power. If one only prayed hard enough, all answers would eventually come.
More than ten years in service, she still believed in the power of prayer. Sister Jude had just learned everything had its limits.
“Sister Jude.”
Knock coming frantic upon her door, she got up from her knees, turning to the door in a swish of her tunic.
“What?” she asked the young sister who looked even more anxious than she so
unded.
“Something came for you. Come quickly. To the cathedral.”
The cathedral? Sister Jude watched the young sister scurry ahead of her. Not exactly the place where something for her should be dropped off, she followed anyway, looking to a speaker as she passed through the side door and a soft hymn filled the chapel.
“Could you turn that off? Why is it on?”
“We think it’s to soothe the baby.” Another sister looked up from the edge of a woven basket, where several more were gathered round, and, stepping between them, Sister Jude stared in at the sleeping infant.
“When was it found?” she asked as the music came to a stop, and, just as the sisters predicted, the baby began to fuss.
“Just before Sister Rose came to get you,” one answered as Sister Jude lifted the baby into her arms, watching sleepy, dark eyes blink open. “There’s a note.”
“Read it.” Cradled against her chest, the infant settled back into sleep. “Quietly.”
“Sister Jude,” the sister began. “Please, do not send me someplace else. I am not a normal little girl. I require special protection. I know you’re strong and will keep me safe. I am an innocent. I need to be where there is a constant stream of invocation to keep evil out.”
Looking up at the woman, Sister Jude made sure she had heard the words, before casting her gaze around the room.
“Call me Haydn.”
“Delaney?” Sister Jude uttered, eyes drawn upward.
In the highest window, she saw her, for only a second, before Delaney turned around and fell into the night.
The Black Forest Trilogy by Riley LaShea
Black Forest: Kingdoms Fall (Book One)
In the Black Forest, Cinderella lives in slavery, Rapunzel in captivity, and Snow White in exile. Stories only half told, each maiden waits. For better. For rescue. Or for death. Whichever comes for her first.
When Cinderella comes face to face with her so-called happy ending in the form of Prince Friedrich "Charming" of Troyale, she does not see her future with the prince as rescue, but as just another life of compromise.