Marley kissed Corbin, and it wasn’t what she hoped it would be. He responded to her eagerly, as if he’d been waiting for nothing but this, but his hands on her back felt wrong, like they were somebody else’s hands. His mouth was demanding, his tongue forceful, and he bit her lower lip painfully.
“Corbin,” she managed. “Corbin, please.”
His fingers curled against her back, then moved lightly up to her hair as his kiss gentled. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I wanted this, but I had to fight….”
“Shh,” she said, and kissed him again.
A moment later, he stiffened in her arms, his mouth hardening as his lips drew back over his teeth. Skadi was standing close to them, her humming intruding itself into Marley’s mind, reminding her of how painful it had been to be cured.
She tightened her arms around Corbin, ready to comfort him, or to hold him with raw strength if she had to.
Instead the moment of withdrawal passed and he returned to kissing her fiercely. Ignoring Skadi utterly, he drew Marley back until he was sitting on the bench again and she was straddling him, his jeans rough against her thighs. Skadi muttered something and moved behind the bench.
Corbin slipped his fingers under Marley’s shirt. His touch burned pleasurable patterns into her skin. Between what his hands were doing and the constant awareness of Skadi nearby, she could no longer tell if it was Corbin kissing her or the shadow within him. And was it so bad if it was both? If the laughter against her mouth came from both of them? It felt good in his arms.
Corbin’s hands crept higher, cupping her breasts through her bra and she clutched at him, digging her fingers into his shoulder and leaning into his touch. Every caress made her want him more. She didn’t care where they were.
Skadi stopped humming and murmured something else, then started singing.
Something’s wrong, a little voice whispered to Marley, but she ignored it. Nothing was allowed to be wrong. This was all going to work.
But it wasn’t. Corbin’s fingers brushed across her nipples, making her gasp, and then he reached around to unhook her bra.
Skadi cursed explosively and muttered, “I will catch you, you little bastard.”
That was incongruous enough to clear Marley’s head for a moment. She pulled away. “Skadi?” she managed.
Corbin whispered, “Ignore her. She’s wasting her time. Ignore her and lie with me.”
That was definitely wrong. Corbin didn’t talk that way. She grabbed his hands and pushed them down, staring at him. His eyes flickered: blue, red, green, black. He pulled his hands from her grip and slid them around her again, holding her on his lap. “Sweet Marley. You could do so much for us.”
“Corbin!” she said sharply. “Stop it.”
“I’m sorry,” said Skadi, her voice catching. “This has never happened before. He’s so strong, and Corbin is holding on to him. There’s a protection there, maybe from Corbin’s own magic. Oh gods. All I did was pull him up to the surface.” She shook her head. “I’ve got to try again.”
She clamped both hands on the back of Corbin’s head and he smiled a shadow smile at Marley. “Do you think she’ll kill me if she can’t cure me? While you hold me tight?”
“No!” Marley cried out. “Skadi, you have to stop too. This is all going wrong. We need to take a minute and—”
Skadi said, “I’m sorry, Marley—”
Corbin stiffened once more, his arms reflexively tightening around Marley as his eyes filled with blood—
Marley yelped and pushed herself up Corbin, her reversed shield peeling Skadi away from Corbin. The blonde woman convulsed, grunting, as the spiritual spikes of Marley’s shield turned inward. It was, Marley knew, painful. She knew because she could feel the other woman’s pain distantly. It itched against her skin and buzzed in her head.
Somehow she was standing, out of Corbin’s arms. He wasn’t stiff and twitching, he was normal, he was alive, uninjured, standing up. His eyes flashed red and green at her as his shadow grinned through him. “Nicely done, my girl. I knew you had it in you.”
“What are you?” she spat.
“Me? I’m your Corbin,” he said and then his grin broadened wider than Corbin ever smiled. “Not really. I am the power-waker, the mind-tester, the brother to crows. I am the lock and the key. I am the father to destruction, the riddle you dare not answer. I am the cat on the keyboard, the signal in the noise, the ghost in the wires.”
“Marley, don’t listen,” panted Skadi, rising to her feet again. She was still encased in Marley’s shield. “You are resistant, not immune. Think about the man you love, not what is talking through him.”
Wait, but—the riddle I dare not answer? Can I answer that? Then Skadi’s meaning filtered through the thing’s words and she shook her head. “Shut up. Both of you shut up.”
Corbin pulled his head back, looking startled, then his mouth thinned into a grim line. “Didn’t work, did it? I didn’t think it would. She was just using you to get to me, Marley. But you’ve caught her for me, you lovely creature. I knew I could trust you.”
Marley blinked at him, disoriented. That sounded like Corbin, like a Corbin who’d missed several recent events. It was too strange. Maybe it was all Corbin, maybe he was playing with her. Maybe she’d never really known him.
Who would I be if I didn’t have magic? She took a step backward. Then she shook herself. “What do you want to do to her?”
He looked at Skadi and didn’t say anything, but his eyes flashed red and green. Skadi stood alert, her chin raised. Something about her seemed brittle, though. She was afraid of whatever Corbin—or Corbin’s rider—had in mind for her.
“What’s going on, Skadi? You said he, you called ‘him’ a bastard.”
But Skadi didn’t answer.
“Hurt her a little more,” suggested Corbin, or his shadow. “That is, if you really want to know. Personally, I’d love to hear her answer.” Ravens landed near Skadi and began hopping around her, prevented by the reversed shield from doing anymore.
Marley stared at Corbin in shock. It had to be his shadow. His affliction. His illness. It had to be. But Corbin was capable of being very angry. She remembered how angry he’d been at Zachariah before he’d left on this mission.
“You said you’d help me however I wanted,” he added, provocatively.
The wind freshened, lifting Marley’s hair away from her cheeks, blowing Corbin’s hair across his eyes. Slowly, Marley said, “I won’t let her hurt you.”
“Of course not,” he agreed. “That’s hardly helping me.”
She stepped forward and took Corbin’s hands. “And I can’t let you hurt her, either. Get out of here, Skadi.” She took the shield back into herself.
The ravens lifted into the air, fluttering around Skadi. Corbin’s fingers slid up her hands and closed around Marley’s wrists. “Idiot girl,” said the virus, and effortlessly spun Marley so her back was pressed against his chest and his arms were around her, still holding her wrists.
An icy wind howled away from Skadi, scattering the ravens, and she sprang backward. She spared only a single look for Marley before she ran from the park.
Corbin leaned down, pressing his cheek against Marley’s. It was prickly and his breath on her face was a reminder of their kiss and how aroused she’d been by his touch. The virus’s touch.
It had to have been Corbin.
She didn’t know.
“Idiot girl,” he said. “I told you her cure wouldn’t work. Aren’t you glad you tried?”
As steadily as she could—which wasn’t very—Marley said, “I want to talk to Corbin.”
“Just talk? How dull. But he doesn’t want to talk to you. He’ll be so upset when he realizes he shouldn’t have trusted you. I’ll do what I can to smooth things over but some wounds….” He clicked his tongue in dismay.
“You’re lying,” she said fiercely. “Corbin can trust me. It’s you who hates Skadi.”
The virus laughed. It was
a different laugh that Corbin’s: a slow, confident chuckle. She remembered Corbin’s belly laugh when they’d watched a funny movie together, before her relationship with Zachariah had made everything start to go downhill. “Lying even to yourself. You’re adorable.”
Something chimed from Corbin’s backpack and the virus let go of one of Marley’s wrists to bend down and open it. “Ah. I thought it would try something. Well, you might as well come see this, Marley.” As he talked, his voice changed timbre subtly. Then it was Corbin holding her hand, Corbin who didn’t seem to have any awareness of the preceding few minutes.
“See what?” Marley asked carefully. She’d told Corbin that Zachariah had confused her, but never like this, never to the point where she wondered who she was talking to and how they’d got there.
“You wanted to know what I was working on? Come on.” He slung the backpack over his shoulder and tugged on her hand. His eyes were bloodshot and tired.
Marley clamped down on the desire to ask him what he recalled about the past few minutes. I’ll do what I can to smooth things over. Had the virus blocked his memories, changed his thoughts? If it could confuse how she felt about Skadi and even Penny, it might well be able to selectively alter memories.
Dazed, she spent a moment trying to understand the dizzying impact that could have on identity. But Corbin was looking at her. Corbin was holding her hand, waiting for her.
“All right, I’m coming.” She squeezed his hand and followed him as he pulled her out of the park and down the street.
The sun was sinking toward the horizon and the streets were filling with evening traffic. The shadows of Corbin’s ravens passed over them repeatedly. He looked at something in his hand a few times as they walked several blocks, then laughed to himself. “Over there.”
A block away, a beautiful stone church occupied the corner lot. The strains of jazz music drifted out: a sunset service. Corbin tucked something in his pocket and drew Marley to the church and up the stairs. “Don’t say anything,” he warned. “You won’t be welcomed. But you can see.”
They went into the foyer of the church, which was empty even of ushers, and peeked through the entrance into the nave. Marley blinked and touched her eyes, then stretched her hand into the glow that made everything beyond dim and unreal. A congregation, rapt in consideration of a radiant angel—
Celebrate with me. Celebrate the glory of our Lord returned to His Creation. The words, made tangible in the light, hit Marley like a hammer. I bring you the blessing of adoration. Come and worship with me.
She heard the words and she wasn’t quite inclined to worship, but she had to know more. If she went inside, she would understand. When she tried to step forward, Corbin’s hand moved to her arm, holding her tightly. Fiercely he whispered in her ear, “No. It would be viewed as sacrilege. Unless the celebration became an execution. I can’t let that happen.”
The angel, golden skinned and white haired, floated above the altar, nude and neuter. A nimbus of light brightened at its shoulders, head and feet. Just before it was a jazz trio, playing their hearts out. It should have been incongruous, but instead it was eerily beautiful. The angel didn’t seem to quite be real; without the hammer-like impact of the radiant light Marley might have assumed it was a projection of some sort. But she’d felt that light, felt it crawling inside her, calling her forward. She shook her head slowly and muttered, “What’s going on?”
“One of the chosen of Heaven has found a way around the Hush, after searching for years. It’s indulging itself, taking command of the hearts and minds of the congregation. And, look, performing miracles.” He sounded like he was describing an exhibit at the zoo.
A woman in one of the pews stood as the angel gestured at her and began to speak in gibberish. Tongues, Marley realized. The woman picked up somebody else’s hand and they began speaking in unison with her. Then two more people joined in, and four more after that, until half the congregation was chanting sonorously. The other half began to sway and undulate, falling to their knees and rising again.
Corbin smiled humorlessly. “You’d think it would have been more patient than this. It couldn’t resist playing a little with its power though, here, where no one would particularly believe the stories later. But I’ve been tracking this angel for months.”
“This is the one who killed your uncle?” Marley said, aghast.
“My uncle and many others, yes.” Corbin sounded utterly disinterested.
The angel looked at them. She tensed, waiting for the worshippers to turn on them. But instead the angel inclined its head in a polite greeting to Corbin.
Tentatively, Marley activated her danger-sight. And it was strange: the futures of these people were, one and all, obscured by a glowing smear that seemed to imply that no matter what happened in the near future, all would be well. It was the faith of martyrs, and it troubled Marley deeply.
She pulled back from the door, tugging her hand from Corbin’s when he lingered. She went to the entrance where she breathed in what passed for fresh air. It was better than breathing light.
Then, quickly, she fumbled out her cellphone and tapped out a message to Branwyn. FYI: The divinity circuit is in the hands of the angel who massacred Senyaza.
Just as she sent the message, Corbin’s hand came down over hers. “What are you doing?” he asked softly.
“Branwyn’s looking for that thing the angel’s using,” Marley explained.
Corbin’s hand tightened. “Yes, I know. She asked me about it.”
Marley pulled her hand away from his. “She asked, you knew, and you didn’t tell her?”
“She has this habit of destroying other people’s plans in her pursuit of her own goals. Of course I didn’t tell her. Did you just tell her?”
“She and some friends—” as soon as she used the word, Marley regretted it, “—are going to—” She stopped herself mid-sentence as she wondered what Corbin—or the virus—would do if they knew exactly what Branwyn planned. The angel had greeted Corbin like they were allies.
Corbin’s dark eyes narrowed. Then he took her by the wrist and towed her out of the church, down the stone steps and around the corner to the broad lawn. “What are they going to do?”
Marley shook her head. “I don’t know if I should tell you. The virus is active in you, Corbin. It listens, and sometimes it says things—”
Corbin said tonelessly, “You’ll tell them what I’m doing but you won’t tell me what they’re doing.” He looked away, ran his hand through his hair. “You lied when you said you’d help me, then. I don’t know why I thought I could trust you. I should have known—after all this time—it’s always somebody else—” His voice got thicker and thicker until it broke.
Marley reached for him but he threw up his hands. “Get away from me.” He swore, and added, “And you did the same thing a few minutes ago. I wasn’t thinking, I was so distracted by Hadraniel, but you let Skadi go, too. You never came here for me.” He backed up until he bumped into a tree and then slid down it, covering his face.
Even when another, different angel had been trying to kill Zachariah’s children and only Marley could protect them, she’d never felt as out of her depth as she did right now. There she’d had a clear and simple goal: protect Lissa and Kari. The world might have been reconfiguring itself around her, all the rules of her life might have been changing, but she had something diamond bright to help her organize her thoughts.
But now she felt like she was flailing in tar. She wanted to help Corbin—but even Corbin admitted he was doing something “bad”, that he was planning on hurting people. He was possessed by some kind of sentient virus, but he refused to believe it was influencing him. She wanted to help him—but helping him and hurting him seemed like the exact same thing. If only she had a way to get some real answers. This was, she reflected bitterly, why she preferred books.
“Oh, Marley,” said the virus softly, lifting Corbin’s head. His eyes gleamed red. “I tried to smooth t
hings over, but you had to remind him, you had to break him. Selfish girl. Or is it stupid girl? Corbin was so sure you were smart.”
Marley froze as a thought percolated up from the depths of her subconscious. “Not smart enough,” she muttered, as another idea occurred. She matched the two together and shook her head. She had no way to know if it would work. But what else could she do? She had to know what she was dealing with.
She concentrated on her magical Sight. Corbin was invisible to her danger-sight, ever since he’d done whatever horrid bit of magic he’d done, but he’d said he’d done that months ago.
“Tell me who you are again,” Marley asked quietly. Skadi had told her thinking about the virus’s riddles made her vulnerable to it.
The virus grinned, looking like Corbin’s cocksure twin brother. “I’m the game you won’t play, my girl. The midwife to chaos, the revealer of secrets, the dance you can’t resist, the laughter at the funeral.”
I am the power-waker, the mind-tester, the brother to crows. I am the lock and the key. I am the father to destruction, the riddle you dare not answer. I am the cat on the keyboard, the signal in the noise, the ghost in the wires.
Marley thought about Corbin’s magic, his hollow eye, his ravens. She felt like she knew who she was talking to, on some level. Like it was on the tip of her tongue. All she had to do was listen for clues and think about it a little more.
She did. But she didn’t drop her danger-sight either. She saw it was true, what she’d hoped: the virus, reaching out from Corbin to her, was not immune to her magic. She could see it. Part of Corbin’s aura reached for her, detaching and drifting fractionally closer.
Trembling with sudden adrenalin, Marley scanned the spirit form for the same line of vulnerability she’d found in Skadi. An imperfection. And she found it. She didn’t understand it, bitter and acrid, but she didn’t have to understand it. It was something for her magic to hook into. All she needed was a world to defend.
She snapped her inside-out shield around the fragment of essence, around the magic-based virus. She could catch it, she could hold it and maybe she could interrogate it like Corbin had demanded she interrogate Skadi—
Divinity Circuit (Senyaza Series Book 5) Page 17