by Bec McMaster
"Why hello, Drake," Morgana purred. She had to be in her fifties, but there was a lush sensuality about her despite the streak of silver in her hair. "Looks like you didn't manage to kill me last month, after all."
"Let us remedy that," Drake suggested.
"I don't think so." Morgana snapped her fingers. "I brought friends, just in case the deception was revealed too soon."
A half dozen red cloaks toppled, and out of the chaos of each cloak launched a pair of hell spawn who had obviously stood on each other's shoulders to pass as human. The imp's coppery skin gleamed over lean muscles as they bounded through the crowd, leaping on sorcerers and tearing apart flesh with their gleaming claws.
Jesus.
Chaos erupted. Wards sprang into being with a harsh buzz and mage globes flickered to life. Bishop squeezed the knife in his hand, looking for Morgana, but there were too many fleeing people between them. One slammed into him, sending him off balance.
And the chaos of the crowd meant that the people on the stage were quite unprotected.
Sebastian faced Drake and Agatha, power brewing until the air felt electric. He lashed out, and Drake drove Agatha to the floor as the entire rock wall behind them exploded with the force of the blow. Bishop launched himself through the circle of flames, landing just behind his half brother, preparing to throw the knife. The demon turned and flung another wave of pure force at him. It swept the knife aside with a clatter.
Bishop staggered back and snapped his wrists together to form a ward but the force hit him like a giant's fist, sweeping him off his feet and flinging him across the stone circle. Ianthe tumbled with him, landing half beneath him.
Head ringing, vision faltering, Bishop looked up as the room fell still again, surprised to taste blood in his mouth.
Hell. He rolled onto his back, facing the demon who wore his brother's body. Everything he'd feared had come true. There were no limits to Sebastian's strength, and now the demon owned all of it.
I should have killed him when I had the chance.
Finding his feet, he pushed for Ianthe to run, even as the demon began sweeping immense bouts of power around the room. It wasn't sorcery. There was no control, no spell craft, no ritual to control the power. Simply Expression. Energy driven by the rage of emotion.
"None of you can stop me," the demon hissed, sending a half dozen sorcerers tumbling like croquet balls. Imps tore into them, but Verity and Lucien were trying to rally some of the sorcerers to their side to fight.
He didn't have time to keep his gaze on her. Verity could handle herself. He had to trust in that.
There was only one person, however, who could take care of Sebastian. If he could get close enough.
"That's not entirely true," Drake called, stepping between Bishop and the demon, as if sensing the tide of his thoughts. "I vanquished you once," Drake spat, his coattails flapping in the wind the demon's sorcery had wrought. "Don't doubt that I can do it again."
The demon smiled and held its arms open wide, gesturing to the body it wore. "Last time you cut my body out from under me. Go ahead."
Drake froze.
The demon's arms dropped to its sides. It took a menacing step toward his father. "Oh, I've been waiting all these years for this moment, Drake. You're right. You're the one person who could stop me. So I had to find the right weapon to use against you." It chuckled. "And here it is, one of three people you won't destroy. No matter what."
It lashed a whip of power at Drake and he fell backwards, tripping over Bishop and landing heavily atop him. Bishop knelt at his side, trying to help him sit up, but there was a look on his father's face that he'd never seen before.
Drake never gave up. He didn't know what defeat was. But the demon had found his weakness, and now it would destroy everything and nobody could stop it.
"It's too late," he whispered, holding his father's hand. "He's already gone, damn you. It's too late! We have to kill him!"
Drake's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "That's the problem with possession." Slowly, he hauled himself upright. "He's still in there. He's just no longer in control."
"No." Bishop shook his head. He glanced at the demon, an etheric blade springing to hand. If Drake couldn't do this, then he would.
Bishop leapt forward, but the demon closed its fist and immense pressure suddenly drove him to his knees, his ribs forced tightly beneath that crushing pressure. He screamed, the blade vanishing into nothing as he clutched at his aching skull.
Someone yelled something and the pressure was gone. Bishop collapsed onto his hands and knees, panting hard. One of his ribs had cracked. He could feel it.
"What did you say?" the demon asked.
"I said, let him go." Drake took another limping step forward.
"And if I do?" This time, the demon's smile held success.
"Drake, no!" Ianthe screamed, fighting her way forward through the winds gusting around them, with Lucien at her side. "You can't bargain with it!"
"Don't," Bishop blurted, his lip split and bleeding. No bargain with a demon could ever be a good thing. They only ever paid the price when they had all the cards in their hand.
Drake stood alone before that massive onslaught of pure energy. It whipped around him, tearing slivers of his coat and shirt and raking through his hair. "What do you want?"
The demon laughed. "You know what I want. A vessel strong enough to contain me...."
One brother for another. Ianthe cried out and clasped her husband's hands where the winds were threatening to tear them apart. Drake looked down, his eyes hooded, but Bishop could see his father suddenly still, as if a decision had been made.
"A vessel... strong enough to hold you," Drake murmured, and Bishop's gut dropped.
Drake wouldn't. Bishop surged forward, hand outstretched. He caught his father's sleeve. "No!"
Their eyes met and Drake's resolve firmed. "We cannot fight it, not like this. And I will not sacrifice one son for another. Not again."
"Don't do this!" he begged. "Please. I need you." He looked around, desperate for help. "Lucien and Ianthe need you! And the Order."
Drake cupped his palm over Bishop's hand, his voice raw with pain. "Look after Eleanor for me. And if you cannot bring me back, then find the Blade of Altarrh and drive it through my heart. It will kill both of us."
"No! I cannot. You're my father." A flash of his mother's face sprang to mind, pale and listless, etched with pain. "Please, Adrian. Let me go." Bishop swallowed. "I cannot do this again."
"You're the only one that I think can." Drake cupped his cheek. "I've made mistakes, Adrian, but you were never one of them. And perhaps because I felt that I had you, I never feared for you as much as I did the other two. I didn't see what was happening to you right beneath my nose until Agatha pointed it out to me. You're strong and you've fought so hard, and I am proud to call myself your father." He pressed their foreheads together. "But you need to stop being afraid of what you are and stop pushing away the one person who could love you. You'll need Verity for what's to come."
"Damn it." There was a lump in his throat. "Damn it, please—"
"I walked away from him, Adrian. I walked away last time and left him to die, because there was no other choice. This time I don't have to do that and he needs someone to make that sacrifice for him, to prove that he is worthy of a parent's love. Without it he can never be saved." Drake squeezed his hand hard. "And you are not to kill him. He's your brother. You and Lucien...." Drake looked past Bishop's shoulder. "I need you to put aside your differences with Sebastian. I was wrong to keep you apart. I was afraid that the prophecy would take you both if you came into my life, but I should have known better. One cannot hide from prophecy. Everything I've done, every choice I've made has only served its purpose, to bring the three of you together here, now. This was always the moment it decreed. Well, maybe I can change the prophecy a little? Maybe by taking Sebastian's place, I can alter the course of what is to come? Trust me."
No. B
itterness welled within his chest.
"You cannot stop me, Adrian," Drake told him firmly. "My decision is made. Just... bring me back or kill me, please. I'm sorry."
Before he could refute his father, Drake turned. "You want a vessel? Then I offer you my body and I offer it freely. But you will not take my sons."
The demon's face lit up. "So be it."
"The terms are these," Drake shouted, pausing in the center of the maelstrom. "I grant you my body and my power to use as you desire, but you may not use it to hurt Eleanor, my sons, or their wives and children. You may not use me to cause direct harm to the Order, or harm to any innocents. The second you do, the terms are forfeit and control of my body returns to me."
"Done." The demon's leer spread wider as it stepped forward and clasped Drake's hand.
A scream of pain overtook Drake and he fell to his knees, his body arching backwards and light streaming from his mouth. Runes of darkness crawled over his skin as the demon's magic latched on to him, creeping up Drake's throat and then prying apart his mouth and vanishing inside. Wind lashed Sebastian's hair and then his expression of rapture faded. Became slack and shocked.
"No!" Bishop came back to himself, screaming the denial at the edge of the circle. Someone held him back. Verity? "No!"
Drake slumped to his hands and knees as Sebastian simply dropped to the slate tiles like a puppet with its strings cut.
His father was gone.
Chapter 30
THE FIGHT WAS not over, even if the main player was lost. Bishop crawled after his father as the demon turned and walked away, a tide of imps parting to let him through.
"No," he whispered as Drake vanished. Of all the outcomes he'd expected today, his mind had not even come close to the disastrous possibilities of this choice.
Rage fuelled him. He sank onto his haunches, screaming his loss to the ceiling. Power flooded through him. For a second he was no longer in control as his magic lashed out, whip-cracks of lightning detonating around them.
Expression.
Dangerous, whispered the part of him that knew what it felt like to hold a lifeless body in his hands because he'd lost control. But he crushed down the thought as he turned his hooded gaze upon Sebastian.
His brother had collapsed. Bishop didn't care. All he could see was his father screaming as the demon took him over. Lurching to his feet, he staggered closer. All Sebastian had ever been was dangerous. This needed to end now.
Then Verity stepped between them, her skirts shredded and her hair in loose knots that were barely pinned up.
Bishop froze.
"No," she said, tilting her chin up to look him firmly in the eyes. "I won't let you do this."
"Step aside." Chilling, the way his voice came out. He felt like someone else had said the words.
"You made your father a promise," she pointed out, her green eyes flashing fire. "And you will regret this forever if you hurt him."
Bishop stabbed a finger toward Sebastian and screamed, "He cost my father everything! Look around you, Verity. All of the blood, all of the bodies here, all of this catastrophe... it's on him!"
"I see this quite clearly," she retorted. "A lot of people made choices that brought them here tonight. Your father made a choice. Morgana made a choice. You and Ianthe and Agatha all made choices. Even I made a choice. But you had friends and family around you, whereas he had none from what I can tell." Her expression softened, and she took a half step toward him. "Adrian, I know what it's like to be backed into a corner and to feel like you don't have any more options left. I never wanted to join the Crows, but it was that or starve. Or lift my skirts for coin. I made the best choice I could at the time, and I've spent years stealing and dabbling in cons ever since. I always knew it was wrong. I always felt shame to do so. But I didn't have any other option. Maybe Sebastian didn't either, when the demon made him the offer."
Bishop shook his head. No. He couldn't believe that she was daring to defy him. "You know nothing."
"I know you're hurting right now," she shot back, fearless as always. "So I won't take that personally." A tear slid down her cheek. "I want to help you. But I can't let you do this. You said that you loved me."
He flinched. "I do."
"Then trust me now. This is not you. This is the maladroise speaking, your emotions, everything.... If you still feel this way in three days’ time then I will step aside, but you're not thinking clearly now."
"Don't tell me what I am or aren't thinking," he snarled. "You don't know me. You don't know what I'm capable of." A killer. It burned his soul. That was all he was, all he ever could be. The maladroise lurked over his shoulder, haunting him. Horroway's gift or not, he would never escape the sins of his past, and nor would she.
But at least he could finish what he'd started. Stop those who threatened the Order and the people he loved. His gaze locked on Sebastian, but all he saw was his father's face. "Get out of my way."
"Don't do this," she warned, her eyes pleading with him as he took a step forward. "Please don't do this, Adrian. I love you. I want to protect you from the world, from your grief, but protecting you also means protecting you from yourself."
Something shifted to his side. Bishop half turned, seeing a man in a cloak lift something toward him.
A pistol.
"Adrian!" Verity screamed.
He tried to form a ward just as the pistol discharged. Too slow. Too damned slow. His life flashed before his eyes in the second it took for the bullet to arrive.
Verity slammed into his arms, translocating out of nowhere, her body jerking and her eyes going wide. "No!" he screamed, wrapping his arms around her.
Not her. Please, not her. Damn the gods, take me instead!
Verity coughed and blood wet her lips, her knees going out from under her as the whisper of death slid through his veins. "Adrian," she whispered, her eyes wide and shocked. He could almost sense that small glimmer of perfect white light lifting from her as her soul began to separate. Catching it desperately in his metaphorical hands, he slammed it back inside her with his magic.
"No!" Bishop lowered them both to the ground. "Verity! Verity! Stay with me!"
There was blood on her dress, and as he pressed his fingertips to the wound, he felt the sucking draw of power as her light slowly began to extinguish.
Agatha's heart had pushed him to the limits of his healing talents, but this.... This exceeded them. Her lungs were punctured on the left, and fluid filled the pericardial sac surrounding her heart, plus the bleeding into her abdomen. An artery ruptured even as he psychically examined the wound. Those leaf-green eyes met his, wide and frightened, and he squeezed her hand.
"You're not going to die," he told her. "I won't let you die."
But where to start? Her lungs? Her heart? He could feel her slipping through his fingers, like sand.
Bishop looked up into a face he didn't know. The pistol was still smoking, the shooter's hand trembling as he lowered it, his mouth dropping open in shock.
"I didn't mean for her...." Osiris's voice, from a face he barely recognized as some other sorcerer in the order.
Bishop saw red. Thrusting out his hand, he curled his fingers and ripped at Osiris's soul with some kind of power he'd never felt before. Osiris's body collapsed as that small soul light streamed toward him. Bishop's hand closed over it, and power roared through his veins.
Death surrounded him. The maladroise hovered there, on the edge of his consciousness, but it didn't pull at him as it usually did. "I can't lose you," he whispered, stroking her precious face. "Not you too."
She couldn't speak. There was no breath in her lungs, and only the faintest hint of lucidity glimmered in her green eyes. But she somehow mouthed the words, Love you.
Bishop forced all of the power from Osiris's death into her. He healed the artery even as it ruptured again. Forced the liquid in her lungs to reabsorb. Too much. Too much damage. Please. Please. Please.
But she was dying, and he knew
it.
Chapter 31
'There is one last type of bond... a bond deeper than any other. Lovers whose hearts beat as one, who share the same breath, the same thoughts. We call this the soul bond, and it is a rare occurrence, for there is no hiding from each other within this bond. No means of removing it, only the means of muting it.'
* * *
- 'Bound As One', by Sir Geoffrey Mellors
* * *
VERITY GROANED, TURNING her head into something soft as she slowly woke. The room was dark and warm, but she felt bone-deep exhaustion.
"Easy," Adrian murmured, and then there were gentle hands helping her to slowly sit up and holding a glass of water to her lips.
Oh, goodness. She drank thirstily until someone—Bishop—took the glass away. "Careful," he murmured, "or you'll be ill."
"Well," Lady E muttered. "Didn't you give us half the fright?" Her pale face swam into view, those black eyes meeting Verity's. Lady E looked like she'd aged another decade, but tension dissolved from her shoulders at the sight of Verity, and she gave Verity's hand a squeeze. "Good to have you back in the land of the living."
"What happened?" Verity moaned. She had a vague recollection of the fight in the grotto, of Drake's sacrifice, and then her standoff with Bishop. Not much else. Or too much, perhaps. She kept getting images of carrying a young woman in her arms and shoving her into the carriage. Of blood on her hands. Ianthe taking charge of a bunch of sorcerers Verity didn't know. Of complex weaves and healing and... and looking down on an image of herself lying motionless in the bed.
How strange. She knew she hadn't done any of that.
"Ianthe won the seat of the Prime by default, as Sebastian was technically not human. Drake sacrificed himself to the demon, so that Sebastian could be free. Then someone tried to shoot Bishop," Lady E said. "You took the bullet meant for him." Lady E swallowed, then enveloped Verity in a rough hug that squeezed the breath out of her. "Thank you, my girl. Thank you for saving my boy."