Trick of Shadows (The Duskhunter Saga Book 2)

by Sara C. Roethle

  “Your sword is special,” she said, tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear. Her throat was fully healed, though blood still stained her clothing.

  I startled. “How do you know?”

  “I’ve been alive a long time. I’ve seen something like it before. It speaks to you.”

  “Could you hear it?” I hesitated, surprised at how easily I admitted the secret.

  She shook her head. “No, I would need to touch it to hear it, and I would rather not. Such magic can sometimes leave a residue. Where did you find it?”

  There were few secrets between us now, so I saw no reason not to tell her. “The Potentate of the Helius Order gave it to me. It woke to my touch.”

  “I imagine it did,” she said. “That blade was made by a witch for a vampire. It is only meant to wake to the touch of the undead, but it seems the bond you share with the vampire is enough.”

  I stared at her. That couldn’t be right. “What do you mean?”

  Her dark eyes held too many secrets. “I mean exactly as I say. Your sword was made for a vampire. Curious, that your Potentate would have it in his possession.”

  I shook my head, tossing my loose, drying locks over my shoulder. “No, you’re wrong. The sword woke for the Potentate too. He was the last one to wield it. But he is not a vampire’s human servant. He has aged at a normal rate.”

  She shrugged. “I do not know the man, but he has lied to you in one way or another. Either he did not actually wield the sword, or he is something other than he seems. Considering he gave it to you with the expectancy for it to wake, he suspected what you are.”

  My mouth went dry. If the Potentate knew what the sword would do, and had suspected what I was, having the sword wake for me would have confirmed it.

  And yet here I was, still alive and free.

  “I would be careful around this man,” Ryllae said.

  I nodded, my gaze distant. “I’m always careful.”

  I fell silent with too many thoughts coursing through my mind to articulate. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I had known the Potentate nearly my entire life. What was going on?

  The sun disappeared over the ruins of the old keep, letting the darkness slowly seep in from the ground up. I gasped, feeling it the moment Asher woke.

  Ryllae put a hand on my arm. “Are you well?”

  I let my breath out slowly as the sensation faded. “I think I just felt Asher waking. He will be here soon.” I turned wide eyes to her. “I don’t know why I am feeling so much, it was never like this before. I’ve even felt his emotions, but it was just for a moment, then it went away.”

  She glanced me over, as if there was something else I couldn’t see. “I am not well-versed in the bond between vampire and servant, and even less so when the servant is a hunter, but these bonds do tend to strengthen with proximity.”

  I licked my lips, considering her words. “Do you mean it will get worse?”

  “If it comes and goes, I’d say it already has. He’s probably protecting you from much of it.”

  My stomach clenched painfully. If the bond would keep growing . . . Would I eventually become like any other servant? Would I lose my free will and identity?

  I would kill us both before that happened.

  Ryllae patted my arm. “I do not think it the most of your worries at the present.”

  I leaned against the wall and went quiet. I wasn’t sure if that was true. It would be more true to say it wasn’t my only worry. If the Potentate knew what I was, why hadn’t he confronted me? I remembered his watchful gaze as Steifan and I departed Castle Helius. Why was he watching me? What was he waiting for?

  The sword at my back, which had helped me many times, suddenly felt like a mighty weight.

  I stood in silence as darkness took full hold of the night.

  Just when I would have started to worry, I heard Steifan and Tholdri approaching, and could sense Asher with them.

  The three men rounded the corner and came into view. Steifan and Tholdri both seemed to blend into the darkness, but Asher’s white hair and pale skin stood out like the moon. I shivered as I watched him approach, wondering if he really was blocking the bond between us to spare me.

  His eyes were only for me as he reached us. He lifted a hand as if to touch me, then let it fall. “You defeated the Nattmara,” he said.

  I mustered a glare for Steifan and Tholdri, then turned my attention back to Asher. “I see someone filled you in.”

  He continued on as if my hostility did not exist, “And you have a plan for bringing your investigation to a close?”

  I glanced at Ryllae, not sure how much she would want me to tell him.

  She nodded once, her eyes wary. “Yes, we have a plan.”

  I realized Ryllae wasn’t just protective of her secret, she was actually frightened of Asher. At least someone was. It made me like her even more.

  Asher watched me as Steifan unwrapped a piece of waxed parchment, then provided an enormous pastry.

  The smell of cinnamon and pumpkin made my mouth water. I took the pastry with a lifted brow.

  He grinned. “I thought you deserved a treat.”

  My laughter seemed to dissipate some of the tension. We had survived the Nattmara, and we had all but solved the murders. And Steifan knew the true way to my heart.

  “We should go,” Ryllae said with a mischievous smile. “We do not want to keep the Montrants waiting.”

  I grinned. I was actually excited to see what Ryllae could do, and to see the utter terror on Lord and Lady Montrant’s faces. Frightening a confession out of them was far better than just killing them. I wanted to see them utterly disgraced before they went to the executioner’s block. Not to mention, they could provide the names of any others involved.

  Asher had watched the entire exchange impassively.

  I pursed my lips, considering, and figured why not? He might be useful. “Do you want to come?” I glanced to Ryllae. “If it’s all right with you?”

  She considered for a moment, then nodded.

  Asher seemed genuinely surprised. “An invitation from my lady? My, I thought this day would never come.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t push it.” I looked past him to Steifan and Tholdri. “Are you both ready?”

  Tholdri grinned. “We were born ready.”

  I rolled my eyes, then led the way out toward the street. Tholdri and Steifan would be going through the gates, while Ryllae and I would take back to the canals. I thought it best if Asher came with us and not the men. I might trust him more than I wanted, but I still didn’t trust him not to eat my friends. What did that say about our relationship? What did it say that I actually thought of it as a relationship?

  As usual, too many questions not enough answers. Best just to focus on bringing justice. After all, it’s what I did best.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ryllae, Asher, and I waited at the ladder leading up into the Montrant’s cellar. I tried to keep my breathing quiet as Asher listened for sounds coming from above.

  After a moment, his silver eyes turned down to me, glinting in the light of my new lantern. “There are four people in the house, none in the cellar. We should be safe to go up.”

  Ryllae huddled close to me, her eyes a bit wide.

  I turned to her. Still in her blood-stained dress, she looked ready to frighten the Montrants on appearance alone. “Are you sure you can do this?”

  She stood a little straighter. “They won’t be able to break through my glamour. They won’t see any of us.” She looked at Asher again. “But I will not lead them to their deaths, only to justice.”

  I finally realized what she was worried about. “Asher won’t eat them. He can control himself.”

  Surprisingly, I believed my words. Asher would not be consumed by simple bloodlust.

  Ryllae considered for a moment, then nodded and started up the ladder. She reached the top, then tugged the handle. “It won’t budge. I think it’s locked. They must have
found the note.”

  She climbed back down, then Asher climbed up. He tugged the handle until metal groaned and wood splintered. He descended, then gestured for Ryllae to try again.

  I watched her go up, then she opened the hatch and crawled into the cellar. I hoped her glamour would be enough. Now that the Montrants had seen the note, they would be wary. But that’s why we had Asher too. If Ryllae’s glamour failed, he could try to bespell them long enough for us to escape.

  Tossing my cloak behind my shoulders, I ascended the ladder one-handed, setting my lantern on the wood floor above so I could climb out. The Seeing Sword was silent, just as silent as Ryllae as she waited in the cellar.

  Asher came up next while I looked around with my lantern. The cages were gone, as were the bloody rags and any other signs the cellar had contained captives. Our note had given them time to clear away the evidence, but it would also prepare their minds for what was to come.

  Asher listened again, one ear tilted toward the rooms above us. He nodded, signaling we were clear to venture up the stairs. Once we had the Montrants in our sights, Ryllae’s glamour would take over. She would conceal us, and frighten the Montrants into confessing.

  If things went wrong . . . Asher and I would be there to clean up the mess. The Montrants would be brought to justice one way or another. If things went right, however, Steifan and Tholdri would be waiting outside in full hunter garb, ready to escort the criminals to make their confession to the Archduke.

  We went up the stairs and opened the door leading into the estate. We were in the kitchen. A cast iron pot burbled over hot coals in the hearth, and smoked trout was already arranged on a wooden platter on the nearby table, but the cook was nowhere to be seen. It seemed the Montrants appreciated a late supper, which was convenient. They would be easier to frighten if they were both there to witness the phantoms.

  Asher gestured for us to step back into an alcove at the sound of footsteps. I didn’t like it, but I knew Ryllae would prefer if I were the one with my back pushed up against Asher instead of her. My skin tingled at his nearness, even though he’d gone as utterly still as only the dead can manage. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say my nearness made him uncomfortable. But I really didn’t know any better, I had no idea what he was thinking. I wondered if he was blocking me from his emotions, and what I might feel if he let down that wall.

  I didn’t have time to consider it further. The footsteps retreated, taking the scent of smoked trout with them.

  Ryllae stepped out of the alcove ahead of us, then hurried out of the kitchen.

  We followed her down a narrow hall and past the dining room, plastering our backs against the wall just as the female cook emerged and headed back toward the kitchen to fetch the soup. If she saw us, Ryllae should be able to conceal us, but I wasn’t sure what would happen if she ran directly into us.

  We waited as the cook returned to the dining room with two porcelain bowls of soup. She headed back toward the kitchen again, then veered off without going inside. A moment later we could hear her feet on the stairs.

  I kept my back pressed against the wall. “She must be calling them to supper,” I whispered. “Where should we hide?”

  Ryllae leaned in close to my ear. “I will need a clear view of them.”

  Asher had gone around us into the dining room. There were doors on two sides, and large cabinets surrounding the massive table. The far wall was lined with curtains covering tall windows. He opened one door and peeked inside, then motioned us over to peer into a small linen closet.

  “Lyssandra and I can hide in here,” he said as we approached his back. “We don’t need a clear view, only Ryllae.”

  Ryllae pulled back one of the tall curtains. “I’m small enough, I shouldn’t make much of a bulge.”

  She was right, as soon as she was behind the curtain, I couldn’t see her at all, and she could peek out once the Montrants were focused on their food. She wouldn’t even need to use glamour as concealment.

  “We can all hide in the curtains,” I decided.

  Footsteps coming down the stairs preceded murmured voices.

  Asher grabbed my arm and shoved me into the closet, turning to close the door so that it was open just a crack.

  I resisted the urge to push him out of the way. The voices were too close. A moment later, the Montrants and a third presence entered the room. Asher moved aside for me to peer out the crack so I could watch as a middle-aged male servant seated Lady Montrant. Her husband sat across the table from her. Neither seemed to sense anything amiss, both focused on the bowls of soup the servant moved before them. He poured their wine, then went to stand stiff-backed across the room from my and Asher’s hiding place.

  I felt Asher at my back, peering through the crack above me. I could sense his excitement. It wasn’t often one saw glamour from a pure-blooded Sidhe.

  It started with a green light swirling at the head of the table. Small enough that one could pass it off as a trick of the eye. The servant was the first to notice. He stared at it, blinking.

  The light grew, swirling larger.

  Lady Montrant seemed to notice it next, though her back was to us so I couldn’t judge her reaction. “Bellamy,” her voice was barely audible.

  Finally, Bellamy Montrant noticed the light. It swirled larger until it formed a feminine figure. Charlotte’s features became clear. For the first time, I saw her just as she would have looked in life. Then her features sagged, her eyes bulged.

  Lady Montrant screamed.

  I searched for the servant, I couldn’t see him anywhere in the room. He must have ran while everyone was focused on Charlotte.

  “A phantom!” Lady Montrant shrieked, standing so abruptly that her chair went skidding across the rug.

  Bellamy stumbled to his feet, slowly backing away. He turned to run, but another specter blocked his way, this one looking just like Duke Auclair. Ryllae had done a spectacular job replicating his likeness for someone who had only spied him a few times from afar.

  “You killed me, Bellamy,” Duke Auclair’s specter moaned, clutching his bleeding neck.

  Bellamy staggered back. “W-what do you want?”

  Lady Montrant had crawled under the table, cowering with her hands over her head.

  “You killed me,” the duke’s specter said again.

  “You killed me,” Charlotte echoed.

  A wet stain grew across Bellamy’s velvet pants. “Phantoms! What do you want of me?” he rasped.

  “Confess!” Charlotte ordered.

  The lanterns in the room flickered as an unearthly wind kicked up, tinged with the scent of the grave.

  The duke’s face began to rot. “Confess,” he hissed, “or I will drag you to the underworld here and now.”

  Bellamy fell to his knees.

  His wife had collapsed under the table, sobbing. “We must confess, Bellamy! Charlotte was my friend!” She started muttering apologies.

  I would have almost felt bad if I didn’t know what they had done, but I had seen Charlotte’s body. I had witnessed the duke’s murder. How many victims had ended up enslaved to vampires, or dismembered in the Nattmara’s lair?

  The phantoms moved closer to Bellamy, trapping him as their bodies continued to rot. The smell of decaying flesh reached my nostrils.

  “All right!” Bellamy shrieked. “We will confess, just leave us!”

  “Now,” the duke demanded. “You will go to the Archduke now. We will be watching you. If you fail, I will drag you into eternal torment.” Blood flowed freely down his neck, soaking the rug at his feet.

  Trembling, Bellamy reached a hand under the table toward his wife. “Come. Come now.”

  She gripped his hand and allowed him to guide her from underneath the table. Duchess and Duke Auclair watched them both with scornful eyes.

  Huddled together, the Montrants scurried out of the room. Steifan and Tholdri would be waiting outside to make sure they followed through.

  My breath ea
sed out of me. It was done.

  “Do you believe they will actually confess?” Asher said behind me.

  I nodded, still staring out the crack. The specters began to fade. “If they don’t, we will haunt them until they do.”

  “Why not just kill them yourself?”

  I turned to face him, only able to see a sliver of his face from the light shining through the doorway. “You mean like I would kill a vampire?”

  He nodded.

  “If I could send vampires to the executioner’s block instead of killing them myself, I would.”

  He watched me for a long moment. “There is a part of you that enjoys the bloodshed, Lyssandra. Do not lie to yourself.”

  I stepped closer to him, which didn’t take much effort in the small space. “Yes, I enjoy the thrill of battle, but if you think for a second that I enjoy taking lives, the only one lying to themselves is you.”

  I turned away from him and pushed the door open, then stepped into the dining room. The duke and duchess were gone, and there was no hint of blood on the rug.

  Ryllae stepped out from behind the curtains. “Was that adequate?” she said with a smile.

  I looked her up and down. She seemed so small and harmless. “It was utterly terrifying.”

  Asher exited the closet behind me. “We should return to the cellar. I still hear others in the house.”

  I imagined the servant and the cook would be hiding for the rest of the night, but he was right. I wanted to regroup with Steifan and Tholdri as soon as they were dismissed by the Archduke.

  I led the way down the hall, back through the kitchen, and into the cellar. I avoided Asher’s gaze all the while. For some reason, what he said had bothered me. He really thought I enjoyed executing vampires.

  In truth, I rarely regretted the deaths when the vampires were attacking me, but the executions . . . cutting off someone’s head while they begged for mercy tended to stick with you. I did it because it was the right thing to do. That didn’t mean it was easy.

  I didn’t know how to explain that to him. I didn’t know how to explain why I would kill a defenseless vampire without blinking, when I would go to such elaborate lengths to scare humans into a confession.