Page 74 of The Dagger and the Flame
It was that surge of understanding, that simmering connection dragged into the light, that made her fling all sense of self-preservation aside. She gripped her necklace, begging it to protect her as she climbed into the fountain. The light flared, bleeding through her fingers as she landed in the cold water and threw herself at the monster, knocking it off Ransom. They tumbled sideways together, Sera falling face-first in the water and drenching herself from head to toe. She sprang up, stance wide and fists raised, just like Albert had taught her, but the monster had stilled. Then it fell to its knees in the middle of the fountain and tilted its hideous face up to Saint Celiana.
But – no. The monster wasn’t looking at the statue. The monster was staring at…her. And the world was shining far too bright. Sera’s necklace had erupted into such a blaze, it trailed along her skin, bathing her in golden light. It was a shield, an orb, a river of sunlight clinging to every inch of her.
‘What the hell…’
At the sound of her voice, the monster bowed its head. Silence fell, the water stilling around them. Ransom hadstopped struggling. He was staring up at her like a corpse, the silver of his eyes returned to their warm, hazel glow.
Panic ripped through Sera as she lunged, dragging him up from the water. ‘Wake up!’ she said, shaking him. ‘Breathe!’
He shuddered as he coughed up a stream of water. Relief flooded her as he retched again, reaching for the rim of the fountain. When he found it, she turned to their other problem. There was a monster in the fountain. And for some reason, it was bowing to her, as though it were waiting for some kind of command. But… was it even possible?
The bead at her throat thrummed, as if to say,Try it.
‘Look at me,’ said Sera, her voice a rasp.
The monster raised its mighty head.
‘Lift your hand.’
The monster’s arm rose.
Holy. Shit.
Sera stared down at the misshapen creature, trying to make out the planes of its face. The true colour of its eyes and the slant of its lips, the shape of its nose.
‘Whoareyou?’ she whispered.
The monster groaned but it couldn’t find the words, couldn’t make its bloated tongue work properly. She came to her knees before it, the water climbing to her chest.
‘Who are you?’ she said again.
The monster closed its eyes, pressing its face forward. Sera reached for it without thinking, compelled by the need to peel away the shadows and find the wounded thing within. When she touched its face, the teardrop at her throat flared again, bathing both of them in its golden light.
‘Fall away,’ she whispered, not to the monster, but to the darkness that had mangled it.
The monster moaned, its face appearing through a haze of shadows. Its limbs shrank, its spine cracking as it untwisted. Slowly, painfully, the monster became a man. He was older than Sera was expecting. Grizzled and red-faced, with wide frightened eyes. He shuddered violently as the last of Mama’s poison left his body. Sera knew then that he wouldn’t survive. The Lightfire was his reprieve, but it was not going to save him. Too much time had passed. Nothing could save him now. By the look in his eyes, he knew it too, and he grasped for the bead at her throat, silently begging to be put out of his misery.
‘It’s all right,’ she whispered, even though it wasn’t. She took his hands, curling them inside her own. ‘It’s over now.’
The air hummed as the tiny bead of Lightfire fought those final tendrils of darkness. And then, at last, it was over. The man collapsed in the water just as Sera’s necklace exploded. She grasped at the shattered teardrop as the force knocked her backwards.
She was unconscious before her head hit the water, and when it did, she sank like a stone.
Eons passed in the cold, wet dark. The Lightfire was gone, the teardrop cracked and wasted, and now there was nothing but blackness. No fear, nor thoughts. No voice. No breath.
But then – there was touch. Warm hands cupping her face. ‘Seraphine?’ Her name in his mouth, soft and searching. ‘Can you hear me?’
She opened her eyes. Ransom was kneeling over her, the stars making a silver halo around his head. His dark hair wasplastered to his face, and there were droplets sliding down his cheeks. He was soaked through, the remains of his shirt now clinging to his skin, the tears revealing the black whorls across his chest. His eyes were the colour of autumn, flickering between green and gold.
Sera blinked, half-wondering if she had died in that fountain, only to awaken in this strange afterlife where the Dagger that haunted her was a man capable of concern. A man soaked to the bone and handsome as hell.
‘There you are.’ His voice was hoarse, his lips twitching. ‘Enjoying the view?’
Her eyelids fluttered as she searched for her sanity. ‘You’re touching me.’
‘Just trying to restore your pulse.’ He trailed a finger down her neck, kept it there. And smirked. ‘It’s racing.’
‘Hands off the Cloak.’ Her head spun as she tried to sit up. The sight of him kneeling over her practically half-naked was nearly enough to make her pass out again. ‘And close your damn shirt.’
