Page 66 of Shadows and Flames
Elián pulled the blade from Von Herron’s chest, where the man had been cowering in the corner, and he used the front of our mark’s tunic to wipe his blade.
“What have you done?” Tana whispered, just as surprised as me.
My Shadow turned then, sheathing his sword at his back to cross with the other, and the movement stunned me even more.
An inconvenient wistfulness struck, right in the center of my long-broken heart, at seeing him with his swords again. He was not in Shadow leathers, but just the sight of those weapons ignited the pang of longing for those days, for an opportunity to approach our relationship, particularly its ending, differently.
But of course, the asshole wiped that away as quickly as it’d come when he raisedthatbrow and gestured toward the body. Of our dead map to Francie. “It seems we won, my queen.”
The sharp words were easy to call forth, then. My voice was clearer as I seethed, “Why in the hell did youkillhim?”
El paused, looked back at the body as if he was missing something, and sent a silent question behind us. To Tomás.
“Because our contract was to kill the bloke, take his head to our employers, and be on our way.”
That… that was not right.
I sorted through the details of our agreement in my mind, but the souls beginning to stir in the corridor and downstairs, they were more noise. Now that my powers were easier to control, I was mostly able to ignore the ever-present stirring of the dead who still clung to this realm. But this whole fucking situation had my wits scrambling.
The sound and scent of the tenants in the apartments surrounding us, pointedly ignoring the commotion for fear that the culprits were still in their midst, were even more to ignore.
Tana was able to vocalize the thoughts I still struggled to coalesce. “You…your contract was tokillhim?”
“Yes,” El answered. Without preamble, he pulled the dead Von Herron up by his hair and unceremoniously heated a dagger he retrieved from somewhere on his person. It glowed a bright orange, like straight out of the forge, as he cut through Von Herron’s neck like slicing a pat of butter.
The heat of the blade immediately cauterized the cut, leaving a neat, if you could call it that, trophy to bring back to?—
“Whois your employer?” I watched El toss the head to Tomás who caught it one-handed. He stuffed it into a leather bag at his feet and slung it on his shoulder.
“Few disgruntled competitors back in Morova, from what we gathered. Why?”
Tana slumped into an overstuffed leather chair, head between her legs. If I could’ve moved, I would’ve done the same.
But this defeat had a new flavor to it. I’d had contracts interrupted before—hell, I’d had a contract interrupted byEliánbefore. I was a competitive person, yes, but there’d been more than pride and coin at stake. What were we going todo?
“I did you both a kindness by not initiating a wager on our victory, though it would’ve won us a sweet addition to the payment we’re about to receive. How about you just treat us to a farewell meal before we part?—”
I cut Tomás’s posturing off with a harsh hiss and raised finger. One could hardlythinkwhen he was always fucking talking, and it was difficult enough to keep myself from throttling both my Shadow and his brother.
Underneath the soft leather coverings, my blackened fingers, the three that marked me as a vehicle for the dark side of Rhaea, tingled with need. Instead of the parasitic curse I’d thought of my powers to be, since the marks appeared, they yielded more to my wishes.
Death Wielder. I had the mark now, similar to the High Priestess of Rhaea, but instead of a peaceful ceremony supported by sisters under the beacon of the moon, I’d won mine through nothing but pain. The sort that scooped out my insides, every minute of every day.
Peace, I’d said. Freedom from all that plagued my heart and mind and leaving… what?
Even before The Killings, or scrounging together a home in Nethras, or finding comfort in the arms of Elián or my sister. True peace was a state I’d never known.
“Give us the head.” I focused back on the bag swirling with an invisible cloud of the freshly deceased. It made my skin prickle.
Elián stepped to my right side, but I took as many steps away.
“Well, we aren’t giving it to you.”
Tomás crossed his arms and whipped his locs over his shoulder. Somewhere in the apartment building, a tenant slowly opened their door before promptly slamming it shut. The Vyrkos I silenced was panicking downstairs, listening to ourconversation. I could taste his internal questions as if I was licking them from his lips.
I pointed, giving the dark urge permission.
And Tomás dropped his haughty posture for one of defense. His feet spread into a fighting stance, but against a weapon that transcended the laws of corporeal form, there was no fighting, was there?
