Bride by Midnight

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Bride by Midnight Page 19

by WINSTEAD JONES, LINDA


  “Since you bled on my shirt, this was delivered for me.” He held the blue jacket up by one finger and a white shirt by another.

  “Fancy,” Lyssa said with a wicked grin. “I’m sure you’ll be quite pretty in your new outfit.”

  “Pretty?” He scowled, for effect.

  “Well, I do prefer you naked, but that isn’t always practical.”

  “Do you want to get out of here before morning?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then don’t say the word ‘naked’ again.”

  She laughed. They both dressed quickly, and Lyssa pulled her hair back, using a clip that had been left on the dresser. “I’ll return it later,” she said. “I can’t make an effective escape with my hair falling into my eyes, now can I?”

  They shared the soup because they needed the nourishment. He had not known how hungry he was until the now-cold liquid hit his tongue. Lyssa, after her trials, would need more food soon, but for now the soup would suffice.

  Blade stuck the dagger into the sheath at his belt, wishing for a sword, certain that he needed that sword as surely as he needed breath.

  Lyssa had asked him once if Blade was his real name or a nickname. He hadn’t answered, and she hadn’t asked again. As he longed for a sword, he remembered his mother’s words from long ago. I had planned to name you after my brother, but the night before you were born I dreamed of a great, gleaming sword. It was beautiful, and the blade shone with an unnatural light. It twisted and twirled, catching the light and singing in the air. So beautiful. I thought that dream to be a sign, and so I named you Blade.

  He’d always believed his mother’s dream to be nothing more than that, a dream—until now.

  Blade opened the door and looked into the hallway. The only person he could see from his position was the physician, who was dozing in a chair against the opposite wall. The man opened one eye, alerted by the movement of the heavy door, and sat up straight when he saw Blade standing there.

  “Has Miss Lyssa taken a turn for the worse? The empress is quite concerned about her well-being.”

  “No,” Blade said calmly. “She’s much better, in fact. I know it’s rather late, but she’s hungry. Could you perhaps fetch a bite from the kitchen? The soup is long gone, I’m afraid. We would much appreciate it.” There had been a time when he would have disposed of the physician in a more direct manner, not by killing him, if it could be avoided, but with a knock on the head and a length of rope. But the man was innocent and did not deserve to be attacked if there was any way around it.

  The physician stood, stretched his limbs and nodded. “I could use a bite of something myself. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

  “No rush,” Blade said.

  The physician walked crisply down the hallway and turned toward the stairwell. Blade waited a moment or two, and then he reached back for Lyssa’s hand. She took it and held on.

  The palace was so quiet at night. Most of the residents slept, he supposed, though sentinels would be on guard, particularly on the lower floors where the emperor and his family slept. The hallway wasn’t dark as he had thought it might be, but was dimly illuminated by the occasional flickering candle. Sconces were set into the stone walls at regular intervals, and some of them were lit. Others were dark. He grabbed a candle as he passed an ornate table, in case the stairwell was not as bright as the corridor.

  “Where will we go?” Lyssa whispered as they reached the end of the long hall.

  He released her hand, gave her the candle, and drew his dagger. He did not know what he might find around each corner, and there were many corners and twists in the imperial palace.

  “We’ll decide that once we’re out.” Hagan would help, if asked, as would Lyssa’s father. But those were the first places anyone looking for them would go. He kissed her, too quickly, and shielded her with his body as they rounded the corner. The hallway was blessedly clear.

  With silent steps they entered the stairwell. There was a hint of light, as if candles burned at intervals along the way. Just below them an unexpected sound echoed up the twisting stairway. He could have sworn it was a girlish giggle.

  ***

  Lyssa trusted Blade with her heart and with her life. She had never trusted anyone so much, she knew that now. Not a potential husband, not her stepmother, not Edine, not even her father. She would put her life into Blade’s hands any day.

  She was doing so at this moment.

  Lyssa was aware in a way she had never been before, as if her body had taken on animalistic instincts. Danger lurked ahead of them, as well as behind. She felt it. She could almost smell death in the air, and though she was finding new powers every day—every hour—she still did not know who death had come for tonight.

  Beyond the palace, the clock struck midnight. Thick stone walls muffled the sound, but it was distinct. Midnight was her time. Their time.

  The bells announcing midnight were still pealing as she and Blade took the rear entrance to the gardens. The exit should have been guarded, but no sentinels stood watch there. A shiver made its way up Lyssa’s spine. Sentinels should have been there. This was wrong. All wrong.

  They stepped into the night, and Blade went still. So did Lyssa. He heard, as she did, whispers from the lush garden. Instead of turning in the other direction, he walked—cautiously, making little noise in the still night—along the garden path toward the whispers. Lyssa would have preferred a clean escape, but if Blade thought it was necessary that they move toward the voices instead of away from them, she would follow without question.

  The empress’s gardens were well kept and on a spring day a sight to behold. Flowers bloomed everywhere in abundance. No weed dared to grow here, and if it did it was immediately plucked out and discarded by one of an army of gardeners.

  At night, the lush garden was deserted, but no less beautiful by moonlight and the occasional oil lamp that burned softly, even at this hour.

  When they turned the corner and saw the scene ahead, Lyssa recoiled in horror. Three girls, pretty blondes, stood straight ahead. Two of them were in the process of wrapping their arms around two entranced sentinels. The third blonde stood back, well away from the romantic scene.

  Perhaps outwardly the scene was romantic, but Lyssa saw monsters’ faces on the two who looked so small and defenseless against the larger soldiers. She saw—and felt—darkness enveloping them. The third... the third, a slight young girl who stood with her back to them, was a mixture of darkness and light, and the war within her was causing her horrible pain. Like the other two, she wore a plain white shift not much longer than knee length, her fair hair loose, and no shoes. They all looked as if they’d just crawled from bed.

  The sentinels were unaware that anyone watched; they had eyes only for the delicate-looking girls before them.

  One girl latched her mouth to the lips of a sentinel. The other looked at Lyssa and Blade, and then at the third blonde, the uncertain one. The girl poised to kiss the entranced man said, “Kill them,” and then she took her own sentinel into her arms.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Blade watched in horror as the sentinels were trapped in a killing embrace. He started to rush forward to try to save them, even though he realized it was too late. The men had already begun to shrink, to fade away. The girl who did not have a sentinel of her own to devour turned to face them after she was ordered to kill. Head down, she took a step forward but then she stopped. She lifted her head slowly, and Blade stopped, too. He did not even breathe.

  Runa. Older, almost a woman, the very picture of the Runa he had seen in his fever dream... which had not been a dream or a glimpse into the Land of the Dead after all, apparently, but a visitation of some kind. For a moment everything else faded away. He held his breath and his knees went weak. Runa was alive. It was impossible, but she was right there. Judging by the expression on her face, she was not nearly as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

  Outwardly the slight, young girl—his sister
—looked to be no threat to anyone, but he knew her appearance was deceptive. They’d been apart so long, and she was no longer a child. She could be just like the others now. Was she the girl he remembered or was she a monster?

  He’d tried so hard to protect her, to shield her from a world that would happily and self-righteously destroy her if they knew the secret of her birth. He’d loved her as a brother should; he’d told her again and again that her life—her soul—would be what she made it, not what anyone else declared it to be.

  Had it been enough to save her when she’d been in this place, with these demons, for the past four years? He knew who she’d once been, but he did not know who—or what—she had become.

  Lyssa tried to step around him, but he reached out, grabbing her, pulling her back. Runa took a few steps forward, short, tentative steps. “No,” he said gruffly, holding onto Lyssa tightly, holding her in place. Dear God, was he going to be forced to choose between his wife and his sister?

  “I can help her,” Lyssa whispered. “Not the others, they are beyond saving, but... this one I can help.”

  “No one can help me,” Runa whispered as she came closer.

  “I can.” Lyssa turned her head, she looked at Blade, caught his eye. “But there isn’t much time. Trust me, as I trust you.”

  Trust me. He let her go, and she stepped in front of Runa.

  “No one can help me,” Runa said again. “I’m poison, inside and out. Don’t touch me....”

  Without warning, Lyssa did just that. She reached out and placed both hands on Runa’s shoulders. Lyssa’s body lurched and twitched, but she didn’t let go. Her knees started to buckle, and Blade instinctively caught her. He started to pull her away, to yank her away from the danger she had brought upon herself, but she knew what he was thinking before he did and she whispered, “Not yet.”

  Runa closed her eyes and sighed. Tears ran down her face, and she sobbed.

  And was that green light in Lyssa’s hands an unnatural light she was transferring to Runa? It was magic, it was healing, it was such a big part of who Lyssa was; of who she had become. She shared it freely.

  The three of them were one, for a long moment. Lyssa touched Runa; Blade held Lyssa. Past and present melded. Danced. Blade felt Lyssa’s magic, her pain, and her determination to save this one girl—this one demon. He felt Runa’s pain, too; not only the physical pain of this moment but of life. Of being different, of hiding who and what she was from everyone but him.

  Blade had no magic. He was a simple man who had tried very hard to deny the existence of magic even when it had been right before him. But watching his sister and his wife, feeling what they felt... he could see the change on Runa’s face, the shift in the way she held her body. Most sharply of all, he felt the tug of war between good and evil, dark and light.

  The green light died; Lyssa dropped her hands and stepped back, all but falling into his arms. She was weak and needed his support, and he gave it to her.

  Mere seconds had passed. Ahead the other two Ksanas continued to feed. It was too late to save the sentinels, had been too late from the moment the demons had captured their minds.

  “Go, now,” Lyssa said to Runa. “Run while you can.”

  Runa did not immediately do as she was told. She stepped toward them and smiled. “You are the witch, yes? Lyssa?”

  Not so long ago he would have been alarmed that Runa knew his wife’s name, but tonight nothing surprised him. He was beyond surprise.

  Lyssa was not surprised, either. “I am.”

  “The witch and the blade.” Runa smiled, and for an instant she was the little sister he remembered. Not a half-demon; just a girl. “I should have known all along it was you.”

  “Runa...”

  Lyssa’s head snapped around. “This is your—”

  “Yes. Blade saved me long ago.” Runa reached up, cupped his cheek with one soft hand. “He didn’t know that was what he was doing, but... with love and kindness, he saved me.”

  He’d always thought he’d failed her, that he hadn’t been fast enough....

  “I will find you!” Runa dropped her hand and turned, running but barely making a sound, blending into the dark shadows of the garden and then disappearing. Straight ahead, there was not much left of the sentinels. They were literally skin and bones, their uniforms sagging, their weapons lying discarded on the ground.

  “Ksana demons,” Lyssa said. “Don’t let their appearance fool you. Unlike Runa, those two are beyond saving, and they will not be easy to kill.”

  And he still did not have a sword.

  ***

  A part of her wanted to take Blade’s hand and pull him away. They should run, as Runa had, not confront. They should flee and hide, and protect their child and themselves at all costs.

  But a stronger part of her knew this was why they had been brought together. This was why she had been denied the simple life she’d craved. They could not allow these Ksana demons to escape. The witch and the blade.

  Unlike Runa, these two were completely dark. They were lost to the kind of magic that people like Edine feared so deeply that they would deny a lifelong friend. They were evil. The Ksana demons finished feeding upon the sentinels and dropped what was left of them to the ground, discarding clothing and dried carcasses as if they were tossing aside the bones of a roast chicken.

  Having just consumed the life force of the two sentinels, the girls were strong, making them formidable opponents. And still... she and Blade could not run from this.

  One girl stepped in front of the other and grinned. In that moment she did not look at all like a child. She was enveloped in darkness, a monster through and through. “I thought I’d like to feed on the blade, who by the way does not even have a sword, which is rather disappointing. But the witch looks as if she would provide a powerful nourishment.”

  She and the demon were two sides of the same coin, Lyssa realized. Life and death, healing and destruction. It was a terrifying thought, and at the same time... right. For every midnight there was a dawn. Lyssa knew she should be afraid, that she should be terrified to face these demons. But she was not. She was stronger than they were. They could not touch her....

  Just as she had that thought, the girl in the lead lost her smile. Blade cursed as Lyssa moved forward without fear.

  For a few moments the two Ksanas seemed to be transfixed. The cold fire Lyssa had felt in her hands on more than one occasion now shot through her entire body. Instead of being afraid, she welcomed that cold fire. It was hers. She owned it. Lyssa was surrounded by her witchy green light, coloring everything around her with that emerald haze. As the strength of that light grew stronger and brighter, Lyssa herself felt stronger. Brighter.

  The demon to the rear began to back away, one step and then another, and Lyssa knew why. There was death for them in her light, and they saw it. Healing for humans, death for those with demon blood. She’d been able to touch and heal Runa, but only because there was light left within her.

  The Ksanas were so fixated on the light that she realized they had lost sight of Blade. They had eyes only for her. She sensed Blade skirting around her to what was left of the sentinels. Hunkering low, he grabbed not one sword but two. With those weapons in his hands, he rose. Slowly. Determined. For a man who had never, as far as she knew, wielded a sword, he held them well.

  The witch and the blade. Lyssa understood now. They were to be warriors in a war that had not yet begun. They were light to the dark, dawn to the moonless night of the demon daughters. So much for her ordinary life...

  The Ksana to the rear, the one with hair so fair it was white in the moonlight, finally heard or saw or sensed Blade and spun around to face him. For a moment or two, she hummed a strange, off-key tune. For a fleeting moment, Lyssa could feel the girl’s thoughts. The Ksana was not afraid. Not of a mere man, no matter what the prophecy said. After all, until now, swords and men had been of no danger to her. She was hard to kill, and all men fell under her spell.
Blade hesitated, and Lyssa knew he was momentarily fooled by the Ksana’s innocent appearance. She looked like any other young woman, slight and fragile, and in need of protection. But it was an illusion; a demon’s trick.

  There was only one way Lyssa knew of to make sure the demon would die and stay dead. She shouted, “Take her head!”

  She’d never seen Blade handle a sword, and for a moment she worried that he might fumble or find the weight of the weapons to be awkward. Until he’d been hopelessly outnumbered, with only a dagger for a weapon he’d held his own against the men who’d abducted her on Volker’s orders. The swords were heavier, harder to control, though, and there was no time for him to practice.

  Her worry didn’t last long. Blade moved as if he’d been born with a sword in his hand, his motions fluid and strong. He wielded the swords as if they weighed nothing, as if they were extensions of his arms. And there was... no, she was not mistaken, there was an emerald green light dancing off the blades. Not her light, this time, but his. The demon with the silver hair danced out of the way, hummed a bit more, and then tried to move in. She even tried, Lyssa saw, to capture Blade with her eyes and hold him in place. But he was immune to her power, and that immunity confused her. He moved more quickly than any man should be able to as he swung one sword and severed the demon’s head.

  The other Ksana, the one who had been in the lead, spun around and screamed. “Divya! My sister!” She clasped both hands to her throat as if she felt the other demon’s pain, and she screamed again, the sound piercing and inhuman in the night.

  Blade turned his attention to the remaining Ksana. She did not wait for him to attack but leapt, her body all but flying through the air. She descended on him like an eagle swooping down to capture its prey. One of the swords Blade wielded pierced her belly, slicing through her body. It would have been a killing wound for any human, but the Ksana seemed not to feel any pain as she pushed away and freed herself, then twisted forward and grabbed Blade’s hair. She tried to pull his mouth to hers but he resisted, and he continued to attack. His steel cut deeply into her, again piercing through her body, the bloodied blade exiting through her back once more... and still she wrestled with Blade, trying to impart her deadly kiss.

 

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