by Kresley Cole
"We know all the Majors' weaknesses. I didn't need to waste a blood offering."
Bitch! "Tell me how to kill Richter."
"Ah-ah." She held up one finger. "A single query only. Now it's my turn." To do what? Lorraine gazed at my collected blood, swirling it like wine. Top notes of nightmares. "What secrets does the Empress harbor that I need to know?" She breathed over the rim. "Wait, what is this?"
The Lorraine mask began to slip.
Slipping . . .
Slipping . . .
Gone.
She jerked her gaze up, lips drawn back from her teeth. She threw the chalice against the wall, blood streaking the fancy wallpaper. "You carry his child! You're pregnant with Death's spawn!"
I gazed from one Minor to another, gauging their shocked expressions.
"You sought that noose because you want to save Death, so you can return to him as his wife!" Lorraine sputtered, "All but one Major must die or the earth won't revive! Yet you want to live on with your Arcana offspring? Should the earth perish forever because of your selfishness?"
"My kid isn't an Arcana. He'll be a normal mortal." Saying the words out loud almost made me believe it.
One guard said, "A union like that violates the dictates of the gods. We'll all be punished!"
The King of Cups added, "You'll bring down the gods' wrath upon us all!"
Jack yelled, "Or she could save everyone!" One of the guards whaled a punch into his stomach. Jack doubled over, gasping.
The men holding him forced him against a column, cuffing his wrists together behind it.
I advanced on them. "Don't touch him again!"
"Or what?" Lorraine cried. "I saw enough of your blood to know your powers are stifled."
They knew I was a wreck. But I have a secret . . . .
Should I try to attack an armed suit of Minors? One bullet could end my kid, and they had Jack as their hostage. I caught his gaze as he grappled to get free of those cuffs.
Lorraine told the King of Cups, "Kill her."
Two words I'd never wanted to hear again. "You're not allowed to harm me."
"We have no choice," Lorraine said. "You're pregnant with an abomination!"
I didn't necessarily disagree. But Tee was my abomination.
Squaring her shoulders, she said, "You broke the rules; you no longer deserve to be protected by them."
I had broken the rules. I wasn't supposed to be with Death. Or to defy the gods' dictates. Or love two men at the same time.
The king raised his brows. "Make her a sacrifice?"
Before Lorraine could answer, I said, "You really want to go there?" I might not be the Empress I once was, but I still had powerful friends. "Circe is my child's godmother. If you throw me in the trench, you'll suffer her wrath."
The Cups murmured as one, "Abysmal."
"Take her to the mainland," Lorraine told the king. "Quietly. Then return with her head."
My slitted eyes took in the guards' expressions. These men looked excited by the prospect of beheading a pregnant teenager.
My God, it was never going to stop. Just like Jack said--the monsters would keep coming. Richter, Zara, cannibals, the Sick House, another Hal and Stache. And I'd been battling them all with one hand tied behind my back.
Faced with these assholes, I came to a startling realization: I'd rather risk the toxic well.
Jack bit out, "Fight, Evie! You've got no choice."
I agreed. The red witch stirred inside me and blinked open her eyes.
Lorraine commanded, "Shut him up!"
A guard launched another punch, but Jack kept yelling. "Rise up or die! The little doll's got teeth!"
My claws dug into my palms, bloody crescents. My breaths came in shallow bursts. They'd beaten Jack, they'd torpedoed my hopes of saving Aric, and they planned to end me. A disgusting old Cup wanted to behead me on a dark shore.
Tee would be no more. The red witch bristled at the idea. Protect what's yours . . . .
"I'll bring you back, bebe. I'll always bring you back."
Glyphs sparked across my skin, my hair turning colors. I told Lorraine, "One last warning: let us go--or you'll pay the price."
"And doom the earth for all time? Never!"
Then it's done. Before I could surrender to my rage, she gave some kind of signal.
"Evie, look out!"
I turned in time to catch a rifle butt with my face.
39
Dizziness . . . pain . . . Jack's yells . . .
I couldn't seem to raise my head--or wrap my battered mind around what was happening.
My forehead throbbed, yet my cheek and nose also tickled. Blood running down my face? Yes, my hair was wet with it.
Guards cuffed my wrists in front of me. Another sliced my arm, spilling more blood into an awaiting chalice. Were they replacing the one Lorraine had splashed over the wall or further weakening me for my execution?
As if from a great distance, I heard Jack bellowing that I couldn't lose more blood.
When the King of Cups lifted me into his arms, Jack thrashed like a madman, so the guards beat him some more. He landed a vicious head-butt against one, but without his fists . . .
Lorraine glided over to me, her gown swishing. In a soothing tone, she said, "You shouldn't take this personally, dear one. Just consider today a reverie. Surrender to the dream, and it will be over soon."
All you have to do is surrender, Gran had told me, draw on your hatred and pain. Become her: the Empress you were meant to be. I twisted against the king's grip.
"Calm yourself." Lorraine's blissed-out voice sharpened as she commanded her guards, "Shoot the Cajun."
Jack suddenly went quiet.
Oh, hell no. I sank my teeth into the king's wrist.
He tossed me away. "You bitch!"
I hit the bloody, wooden floor, and jerked my head up. A guard had his rifle aimed at Jack's forehead.
"Evie." We met gazes as the gun cocked.
Wooden floor. Wooden . . . With a shriek, I stabbed my claws into the floor and revived the boards. Shoots exploded upward across the room, impaling the Cups, stabbing limbs.
Shafts of wood immobilized each of them--just as I'd done to Cyclops back at the castle. Had some part of me wanted these Minors alive?
Jack alone was unharmed. He looked dumbfounded by my handiwork; he'd get over it.
Across the dance floor, the Cups were trapped upright like pinned butterflies, unable to raise or reach their weapons. They yelled in agony, struggling to get free, yet only injured themselves worse.
I used my claws to slice the cuffs off my wrists. Swiping blood-drenched hair from my face, I stumbled to my feet and stalked toward Lorraine.
She craned her head around to keep me in view, sniveling at my approach. "No, nooo!"
As I passed the other Cups, they spat blood, hissing that I was carrying an abomination. That I was condemning the world.
Sticks and stones. "Shouldn't you have seen this coming?" I asked Lorraine. If only she'd read the future beyond my pregnancy. Talk about a buried lead. "But then, these days I can barely predict what I'll do. You didn't stand a chance."
"Go to hell!" Blood spilled from her lips. "You'll d-dream of this memory forever."
"Oh. You think this is the worst I've ever seen? It doesn't even make the podium. Besides, it's only a reverie, right? But I can turn it into a nightmare. Should I make this wood grow inside you? Replace your every vein?" I thumped the shoot through her right leg, the vibration making her cry out. "Or you can talk. Is there truly no other way to kill the Hanged Man? Were you lying?"
"Vow you'll spare our lives . . . and I'll tell you."
I canted my head. "Fine. I give you my word as the Empress that I'll spare you."
"The rope was destroyed . . . no longer exists! I'm glad of it!"
For some reason, I believed her. After all these weeks of waiting, my mission was over? And Aric was already a casualty of the game?
"How do we ki
ll Richter? How's he supposed to die in this game?"
"The Hanged Man . . . convinces the Emperor to kill himself."
My lips parted. What would stop Paul from doing the same to my friends--and to Aric? The Hanged Man was poised to win the entire game. Evil would rule.
I didn't want Richter to win, but everything in me rebelled against Paul's victory too.
My eyes narrowed as an idea surfaced. I could create hemp. I could always make a noose. Just needed to execute with it.
A whole suit of guilty souls happened to be trapped in this place, offered up to me.
If I defeated Paul and freed Aric, we could put Richter in the crosshairs once more. But first I had to secure the weapon.
Was I strong enough to do what needed to be done here? Callous enough? I am, the red witch said. Give yourself over to me!
I looked at Jack. His face was bruised and pulpy, one lid swollen shut. He'll bring me back.
Proceeding with this noose plan wasn't necessarily the good-guy thing to do--but it was the move I wanted to make.
To survive in this new world, I'd need to be deadlier than my violent adversaries. Crazier than the insane ones. More monstrous than them all.
In other words, mother of the fucking year. The heat of battle scalded me. "Jack, I think I'm going for a swim."
His smile was bloody. "Not too deep, bebe."
Lorraine and the others kept thrashing to get free. Whatever she saw in my expression made her eyes grow crazed.
"You vowed . . . not to kill us."
I rapped my purple claws together. "As everyone keeps reminding me, the Empress is a known liar." The deviousness of briars was my own. "Put yourself in my position. Basically, I'm weighing your serial killer lives against the future of mankind. Dear one, you shouldn't take this personally. Just surrender to the dream."
Vines erupted from my skin as rage burned. I gazed down at that bottomless pit with a little less horror than before--it's getting easier, Evie--because I was becoming the Empress I was meant to be.
"Other Minors . . . will sense our murders. The kingdoms will unite . . . hunt you and your child . . . hunt all Majors."
"You bashed my face in, planning to cut off my head. You threatened the lives of Jack and my kid. The Cups shouldn't have picked a fight they can't win." A thornless rose stalk surfaced from my nape to circle my head, creating a crown. Leaves pointed up, and a dozen red blooms matched my drying blood. In a breathy voice, I said, "Recognize me now? Lorraine, maybe in the next game you'll remember: An Empress always trumps a queen."
Gran would be so proud. For the first time, I gave myself over to the red witch completely.
Do.
Your.
Worst.
40
"PLANK, PLANK, PLANK!"
I blinked open my eyes, found myself kneeling beside Jack. Was he yelling at me? In my clenched fingers was a crimson-spattered noose. I could barely move my heavy limbs, drained by my power outlay.
"Jack?" My throat was on fire. From the red witch's shrieks? Petals and razor-sharp thorns surrounded me like a victim outline.
"Snap out of this, Evie! They're coming for us. Cut me loose."
I leaned around him, slicing through his cuffs.
Jack pulled me close. "You back with me?"
I nodded against him, not sure of anything at all. "What happened?"
"We've got to go." He pried my white-knuckled fingers from my new noose, taking the thin length from me to loop it around his waist. He zipped his coat over it.
I caught a glimpse of the dead Cups before Jack pinched my chin and drew my gaze away. "Doan look at that, peekon." He helped me stand.
"What did I do?" Everything was a blur.
"What you needed to." We headed toward the exit. On the way, he seized a rifle from a fallen guard.
Outside, Jubileans clamored for the plank. "Lorraine's dead!"
"All the Ciborium were murdered by the witch and that Cajun!"
"The criminals are still aboard."
"Jack, what's going on?"
"Somebody came in during . . . while you were . . ." As he tried to put my actions into words, I vaguely remembered someone rushing in, vomiting, then fleeing. "Doesn't matter. They've broken into the arsenal. You got any more fight in you?"
A whimper left my lips.
"Afraid of that. Come on, you." Rifle raised, he grabbed my hand and charged out of the ballroom.
We almost made it off the ship, but an armed mob blocked our way. "Plank! Plank! Plank!"
Jack aimed his gun from one to another.
I glanced over my shoulder. More Jubileans circled us from behind. "There's too many of them."
A tall, burly man took a step forward. Their new leader? Leveling a bayonet at us, Burly said, "Drop it, Cajun, or we shoot the witch in the face."
"Putain." After a hesitation, Jack laid down the rifle. "You'd kill a rare female?"
"After what she did in there?" Burly's eyes held a mix of animosity--and fear. I was as good as dead in his mind. "For the murder of our queen and guard, you'll both walk the plank. Or you'll get stabbed to death." He motioned with his bayonet. "You know the way."
With frenzied grunts, the men prodded us. We had no choice but to stumble along, closer to our execution.
In French, Jack told me, "If we survive the fall, the cold will kill us in the blink of an eye."
"Circe's our only hope." But how could she adjust the temperature of her element? She'd been unable to fight the ice at the castle.
The mob forced us out onto the foggy deck. In the freezing darkness, the plank loomed.
Both Jack and I stopped in our tracks.
I strained my voice to scream, "Circe!" Was she anywhere near us? Could she hear us down in her echoing abyss?
Burly snapped, "Shut up, witch." He swung his bayonet at me, but Jack defended with his arm.
Slice. Blood poured.
"You're goan to pay for that."
"Save it, Cajun."
Would they stab Jack's stomach next? His heart? "I'd rather chance the water." I shuffled out onto the plank, chancing a glance below. My breath caught in my throat. The trench was a hungry beast, awaiting its due.
Jack followed, keeping himself between me and those blades. "Doan go any farther, no." He planted his boots. "If Circe is goan to save us again, now would be a mighty fine time."
"CIRCE!" Fog banks swirled, obscuring my vision at intervals, but I thought I saw the water level rising? My imagination?
Jack peered back at me, and his solemn expression broke my heart. "Another adventure together, non?"
Now I knew we were about to die. "At least I'm with you."
A thicker blanket of fog swept in until I could scarcely see Burly and his men. Shouts carried from the crowd below, followed by a sharp scream that ended abruptly. "What's happening down there?"
"Maybe Kentarch and Joules came back."
Burly ordered some men to investigate the commotion. Several hurried away, but he and three others remained focused on us. Bayonets breached that dense fog, slashing at Jack.
Another slice on his upper arm. Then his wrist. He held his ground, refusing to back up.
"You can't take another stab!" I inched back, yanking on his hand. The plank teetered, making my stomach dip.
"Just hang on, you! Not another step." He leaned forward, but it was a losing battle. "Putain!" The plank bounced up and down.
Up. Down. Up. Uuupppp--
The bayonets disappeared. Four loud thuds sounded. Had bodies just dropped to the deck?
Jack and I started sliding backward. We were looking up at the end of the plank--about to be dumped! "Jack!"
Over my scream came a stomping sound.
The plank stabilized! A metal boot was lodged atop the other end. Black metal.
Oh, dear God. I gazed up in dread.
The Grim Reaper loomed in the mist, clad in full armor, with both of his bloody swords drawn. His helmeted head turned, his gaze l
ocked on me. The man who'd decapitated me twice had me in his sights once more.
Death has come to claim me . . . .
41
Maybe this was some kind of nightmare. Maybe I was still unconscious from that earlier rifle blow.
"Come with me." His raspy voice sent chills over my skin.
No nightmare. Was the Reaper cured? Or had Paul somehow dispatched an assassin to kill us?
From behind Jack, I sputtered, "Go with you? So you can drink my blood from your sword? I'd rather Circe have my icon!" I scrambled back a step.
Death hissed in a breath, his eyes glowing behind his helmet visor. "Do not move, sieva. The Fool showed me a vision. If you and the mortal go into this water, you will freeze and your heart will stop."
With my free hand, I wiped sea spray and blood from my face. "Why should I believe anything you say?"
"I'm here to help you." He glanced down at the trench. "We must leave this place at once. We're running out of time."
"For Lorraine!" Two more Jubileans attacked with bayonets.
Aric twisted to keep his boot on the plank as he struck the two men down. Their bodies joined the pile with Burly and the others. Aric turned to us. "Come!"
His tableau wavered over him, right-side up. But I barely trusted my own sight. I remained frozen until the entire shelf of land seemed to move. Another Rift?
As I reeled to balance myself, Jack decided for me, pulling on my hand to escape the plank. Back on the deck, he asked, "You got a vehicle, Reaper?"
He shook his head.
"We need to get to Kentarch's truck down in the lot, but more Jubileans will be waiting for us."
"Tell me where it is, and I will lead the way."
"Get to the ground, then head left." Jack squeezed my hand, telling me, "I've got you, peekon. If you doan trust him, trust me."
I met his gaze and finally nodded. We hurried back through the yacht, passing body after body. To reach us, Aric had taken down a score of men.
Jack snatched a rifle from the clenched hand of one corpse. Bullets from another's vest.
When Aric stormed outside, shots erupted, hitting his armor. PING PING PING.
Jack tucked me close against his body, shadowing Aric as the Reaper covered us.
Down on the ground once more, we ran, water splashing up around our ankles. The sand had always drained quickly; there'd never been standing water before. It seemed to be seeping up through the sand.
The shelf rumbled, sloshing the overflow. I asked, "What's happening?"
Aric answered, "The Priestess is losing control." Of her catastrophal powers?