“You’re not making any sense.” Content that the fire was now going, she put the stick in the flames and sat down.
“I used to be many. Now I’m just the one. I think that’s part of the problem—why I feel like my head is full of little buzzing things, crawling around and making so much noise.” He laughed quietly, lowering his head. “Now I do sound insane, don’t I?”
Ember swallowed thickly. Sometimes it was easy to forget who—what—she was dealing with. “When you say you used to be many…what do you mean?”
“I was able to split my form. I could be not just one, but thousands—a hundred thousand—copies of myself. Each one slightly different, each one another point on a spectrum.” He leaned his head back against the tree again and gazed up at the sky. “I used to be made of light itself. I was so beautiful, Ember…”
She didn’t know what to say to that. “I’m sorry.”
“Now I’m a…broken thing. I wish they had left me there at the bottom of that lake of blood. I wish they’d left me with all the corpses and the sorrow and the dead.” His voice lowered to nearly a whisper. “I don’t want to be like this.”
Frowning, she stood from her spot by the fire and sat down next to him. She knew she shouldn’t pity him. He was a terrifying, monstrous creature. He was cruel and dangerous. At any moment, he was likely to snap and break free of his restraints.
But something in his heartbreak was calling out to her. She couldn’t ignore it. Reaching up, she carefully tucked some of his hair back from his masked face. “We don’t get to choose what fate does to us. We only get to choose what we do about it.”
“You sound like Lyon.” He chuckled sadly. “He’d have said that with about four hundred extra words, though. I miss him.”
“I thought you hated him?”
“I do. I miss my friend. I hate the betrayer he turned out to be.”
She tucked another strand of hair behind his ear. “What did he do?”
“That is a long, long story. I’ll tell you another time. I’m in a foul enough mood as it is.”
“All right.”
Cricket was well on his way to catching a small pile of fish that he had chucked onto the shore. She watched as he chomped down another—bones, scales, and all.
“Please, Ember,” Rxa whispered, bringing her attention back to him. “I’m so hungry…”
She swallowed thickly again. She knew a solution to both their problems. But it was so cruel, she didn’t know if she could go through with it.
What other choice did she have?
“If I offer you my wrist…” She shut her eyes. “Would you bite me again?”
Rxa was silent for a long time. She looked up at him, half expecting to find him missing. But he was sitting there, staring at her. Whatever expression he might have was hidden behind that terrible mask of his.
“I don’t want you to,” she quietly clarified. “I just…I need to keep you under control, and if you’re hungry, it—it might help.”
“It hurts me.”
“I know—I’m sorry. I just—” She winced and looked down into her lap. “I’m just sorry. I don’t want to do this to you.” Shame welled in her, and she shook her head.
“It’s all right, Ember. You’re doing the right thing. Go ahead—take my mask off.”
Looking back up to him, she found herself caught off guard by his response. Not just because of what he had said, but how he had said it. His voice was soft and tender once more. She reached up to grasp the edge of his mask and hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“Of course. You’ve seen my face already.”
“I know, but…this is different.” She tried to see his eyes through the dark nothingness of the sockets that hid them, but whatever magic was at work rendered it pointless. “This isn’t your choice.”
“I could refuse. And I’m not. Go on.”
She gripped his mask carefully by the edge of the porcelain and pulled it from him. She wondered how it stayed on his face at all—there were no straps or anything holding it on. More magic. She placed it on the ground next to them.
When she looked up at him, she found him smiling at her. Those pale-yellow eyes of his were flicking back and forth between hers, searching for something. But what, she didn’t know. Something about it made her cheeks warm.
The claw marks on his face had healed to angry scars. His left eye looked as though it had been bisected by whatever had caused the wounds on his face. The two halves of his iris and pupil didn’t quite line up—like they had come back together slightly out of alignment. One of the scars ran through his lip. But he looked more…together than he had before.
“How bad is it?”
She almost laughed at how glum he sounded. “It used to be worse.”
“Oh, good. Good.” He sighed.
It was nice to see his face when they talked. She couldn’t imagine going around trying to speak to people who hid behind masks all the time. She fought the urge to touch his cheek. The yellow marks on his skin were filling in now that he, well, had skin to have them on. There were still red shadows beneath his eyes. He looked tired. He looked like he was in pain.
But still, he was smiling at her. Not much, and it was sad, but it was there.
“You’ll have to hold your wrist to my mouth.” He glanced down at his hands. “Unless you want to untie me.”
“You know I can’t.”
He shrugged. “Had to ask.”
She shifted to sit closer to him, and then realized how difficult it was going to be to position her wrist to his mouth while he was tied to a tree. Especially since he was taller than she was. When his lips turned up in a thin smirk, she saw the mischief in his eyes. “Shut up.”
“I was going to let you figure it out.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
She untied him from the tree but kept his wrists bound. She sat back down beside him and offered him her wrist. “Here. Just…be careful.” She couldn’t keep all the fear out of her voice.
“I won’t hurt you, precious dove. You can trust me.” He cradled her hand in his and turned it up until her vein was exposed to him. He bent his head to her, and she gasped as he ran his tongue along the sensitive flesh. She went rigid. “Ssh…it’s all right. Relax. I won’t hypnotize you this time. But if you fight, you’ll risk me tearing the bite.” He kissed her palm, and she shuddered. She took in a long breath, held it for a moment, and then slowly released it. “That’s it. Let it happen.”
Leaning her shoulder against the tree, she tried to force herself to relax. She took another slow breath but couldn’t help but watch, rapt and fascinated, as he kissed along the vein of her wrist. Goosebumps rushed up her arm.
“You taste divine…” His eyes slid shut as he ran his tongue along her once more, hot and slow. He opened his mouth wide. His canine teeth, which were already a bit too long and sharp, extended like the fangs of a snake. She couldn’t look away as he sank them into her wrist.
She pulled in a hiss through her teeth at the stinging pain. He laced his fingers with hers, holding her still. But the brief pain passed quickly, and what was left instead was…
Holding back a moan, she felt something like fire rush through her body. The pleasure was intense and raw, like he had touched a nerve. She had thought it was a trick of his hypnotism. Her head swam, and she lowered it, resting her forehead against his shoulder.
The sound that came from him matched what she had been inspired to make. He sealed his lips to the wound and began to drink from her. She could feel it—the gentle suction as he fed. With each pull, she felt a surge of bliss wash through her. She struggled to remember to breathe.
When that strange purring noise came from his chest, like a great, sated beast, it was almost too much for her. Her pleasure almost peaked from that alone. She had to bite down hard on her lip to keep from crying out like a cheap harlot.
With each slow pull, she was pushed closer and closer to that edge. Par
t of her fought it with every ounce of her body. The other part wanted to surrender to it…to the ecstasy. To him.
No. Keep it together!
Just when she thought she wouldn’t have a choice, he pulled his teeth from her wrist. The humming bliss that was consuming her slowly began to recede. He began to lick the wounds. Two small, barely noticeable dots on her wrist. She might have mistaken them for mosquito bites. And as he lapped at her, as if cleaning her, he kept making that seductive and fascinating purring sound.
It broke off suddenly as his body convulsed. He hissed loudly in pain. “There—there it is.” He groaned and arched his back. She winced as she watched him spasm and reached out to pull him into her. She didn’t know why she did it—she didn’t even realize she had until he was lying in her lap on his side.
Rxa squeezed his eyes shut tight and twitched again in agony. Each time he did, he pulled in a sharp breath through his nose.
All I felt was pleasure. And all he’ll feel now is torture. She stroked her hand over his dirty hair slowly. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t know what else to do.”
“Will you sing for me…?” His was shivering. “I would like that very—”
He went limp.
Fighting tears, she quietly sang him a lullaby.
5
Jakob couldn’t have been happier.
Oh, sure. Gioll was probably gone and eaten by a world of monsters. But the world of monsters was big and colorful, and he had made new friends. Strolling alongside Dtu, he was humming an old tune that he had picked up from some vagrant somewhere on one of his merchant trading routes.
Ini was perched on the back of one of the strange insect-horses that seemed to populate Under. Maverick was also riding, namely so he would stop complaining about his sore feet. The shoes he was wearing were not meant for long travel.
Jakob, meanwhile, was used to walking for days on end. He had offered to take a bag of supplies. When they fled Aon’s estate, his people in black had provided them with everything they might need. Tents, food, clothing, and so on. The only thing the people of Under didn’t have were medical supplies.
Since they couldn’t get sick, and injuries apparently didn’t last long.
He was exceedingly jealous and told everyone as much.
A couple of times.
“So where are we going, again?” he asked Dtu cheerfully.
“North. To the House of Flames. Evie and her army will help us retake Yej,” Dtu answered dutifully. That was how he always answered, patient and measured. “Hopefully, they are already on their way and we will not have to walk all the way there.”
“Is it far?”
“A month’s journey. Worse if it snows. And it’s always snowing in the north.” The giant wolf turned his head over his shoulder to look back at those who were following them. A pack of survivors of Gioll and Under—people who wore ink of every color, and many who didn’t wear any at all.
They were all in the same boat now. Refugees from the drengil.
Crisis could break people apart. But Jakob had also seen how well it could bring people together. He smiled.
“I worry for your people. They will freeze.”
“We’re a hearty bunch. We’re not used to living—really living, like you people—but we are used to surviving. I wouldn’t worry about them too much.” He shrugged and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his warm fur coat. “Maybe you could summon them more coats?”
“I’m not a factory.” Dtu sounded vaguely offended.
Kamira, who was walking ten feet behind them, cackled. “Are you so sure about that? I could see it now. You with a bunch of mortal pups. You’d make such a great wetnurse.”
“Shut up.” Dtu sighed.
“I feel special now.” Jakob reached up and patted Dtu on the side. “Thank you.”
The large humanoid wolf was silent for a long moment. “You’re welcome.” It was odd that he could speak without moving his bony, exposed jaw. But in a world where magic was real, he assumed there were far more spectacular things than that to see.
“I would love to see more of this world.” Jakob smiled broadly. “I love to travel. Do you?”
“I rarely stay in one place,” the King of Moons replied. “I follow the prey where it goes.”
“Fantastic! We can travel together. That sounds wonderful.”
“Why would you wish to stay with me?” Dtu turned his head toward him, one green glowing flame for an eye flickering in the darkness.
“We’re friends, aren’t we? And with you, I’ll be safe. I think I would love to be at your side.” He blinked. “Oh. I’d hate to be a burden, though.”
“You would not be a burden.”
Kamira snickered.
Dtu growled at the woman then turned back to the road, the fur on his shoulders raising then lowering again. He was always on alert—always ready for an ambush. Now and then, Jakob could catch a glimpse of shadows moving through the trees. But because Dtu wasn’t alarmed, he knew it was probably one of his people. The strange, bestial shifters that he ruled.
It was part of the reason he felt safe.
Other people were protecting him.
He wasn’t a hero—he wasn’t a hunter. He wasn’t cut out for that kind of life. He wasn’t sure what life he was cut out for, but he had survived so far and managed to find his bits of happiness along the way.
His gift was finding joy in the bleakest of situations.
It wasn’t worth much, but then again, it was a gift that lasted.
And it was the only one he had. “This is going to be a wonderful adventure.”
When Rxa came to, he was moving. It was an unnerving way to wake up. Not only was he moving—he was sitting.
With a low groan, he lifted his head. His hands were tied together at the wrists. His wrists bound to his waist, and his waist to the horse. He had to give it to his little mortal—she knew how to fashion restraints. Maybe that’ll come in handy later. He grinned to himself and realized slowly that he was wearing his mask.
She put it back on.
How sweet.
His stomach lurched dangerously. “Nngh…” He swallowed, trying to keep down the bile that was splashing around in his stomach like a bag of angry fish in shallow water.
Leaning back, he felt her behind him. There was another rope around his chest…but why? Where did it go? Turning his head, he struggled to see. “Are we tied together?” He chuckled weakly. “Kinky.”
“I didn’t want you falling off while you were unconscious.” Ember’s tone was flat and matter-of-fact. What was wrong? What did he do?
He always managed to find some way of upsetting her. With a shrug, he looked off into the woods. He didn’t know precisely where they were—a few days’ ride south of Aon’s estate. They were following the road that ran along a river. Halfway to the Temple of Dreams, the river would eventually empty out onto a lake, and—ah. He knew that lake. With a smirk, a plan started to form in his head.
He had about a week to pull it off.
Easy.
Or it would have been easy, if he were still as he should be—as he had been not so long ago. But as this broken, twisted, malformed thing that he was now? It would be harder. Much harder.
But there was something fun about a challenge.
And she blushed so sweetly when he touched her.
“How long have I been out?”
“Since last night. It’s ten in the morning—I think. Or it’s ten at night. Hard to tell since you don’t have a sun here.”
“It’s morning. And, oh, we do have a sun. Just pray you never see it.” He grimaced.
“Lyon said the same thing. What’s that mean?”
“When the Ancients rise from their grave, so too does the sun. And if they are awake…their cruelty knows no bounds.” He looked down at his hands. His fingernails had grown long and sharp. They resembled claws. He rather quite thought it was fitting. Wait a moment… He focused and watched as h
is nails changed. They didn’t quite retract, but they became normal, and not nearly so pointed. He cackled.
“What’s funny?”
He extended his claws again. “You’ll find out later.”
Ember sighed heavily. The poor girl was at her wits’ end, he was certain. But the mortal girl was steadfast. He wanted to unravel her. With a smirk, he looked down at the swishing horse’s tail. “Nice ass.”
“What?” She shifted at his back.
“Hm? I was talking to the horsie. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” He grinned behind his mask, and he wished she could see it. He felt a bit feral. He wanted to touch her again—taste her again. But instead, he was tied to a horse the wrong way around and watching the world just meander past him in reverse.
“Panties?”
“Earth word for women’s underwear. Oh! Are you wearing underwear? Tell me you go commando.”
“I don’t know what that means, and I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“Pah. You’re no fun. I suppose I could start singing again to pass the time, hm?” He snickered. He knew it drove her up the wall. That was entirely the point. “I mean, I don’t even have Frank Two to talk to. Where did he go, anyway? I hope he’s okay. I’ll have to get a Frank Three and—”
“Do you ever stop talking?”
He laughed and leaned his head against hers. “I’ll trade you for it.”
“Trade what?”
“A bath. I’m disgusting. I stink.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
Oh, she’s teasing me now? Good! “Do we have a deal? I’ll shut up for…oh…six hours, and once we stop for the night, I get a dunk in the river. Really, it’s a win-win for you.”
She paused for a long moment. “Sure.”
He smiled and shut his eyes, letting the movement of the horse and the slight breeze calm him. He could feel the drengil—his dead army—itching at the back of his brain. They had overtaken a few more little towns and settlements. More of the world of Under had been taken. More lives added to his wave of revenge.
Grave of Words (Fall of Under Book 2) Page 4