Page 114 of The Rebel and the Rose
‘I can’t make anything. Or anyone. That’s not what I am.’
‘Why don’t we ask our necromancer?’
She saw him then, coming through the trees. Robed in red, and with that eerie golden mask hiding his face. At a nod from the prince, he discarded it like a flying disc.
It landed at her feet.
But Sera’s eyes were riveted to that face. Shock stole her voice away, made her knees tremble as she pulled the gate closed, making a paltry barrier between them.
No.
No.
It wasn’t possible.
He was here again. The figure that had haunted her dreams for months now. The Dagger she had killed on top of the Aurore.
Lark Delano.Saints above. Here he stood in flesh and blood and bone. Only he looked different; his face was unnaturally gaunt, his gait was slow and dipped to one side, and his once pale skin had taken on an eerie grey pallor.
Around his wide green eyes, the sockets were shadowed and deep. When they met hers, they glinted like golden coins.
Saint.
‘Hello, Seraphine.’ He greeted her like an old friend.
Blood roared in Sera’s ears. ‘I don’t understand,’ shewhispered, gripping the gate between them. ‘You’re dead. Ikilledyou.’
His smile grew, his teeth too white against the grey of his skin. ‘Youmademe.’
‘Saint-maker,’ said Andreas, with all the reverence of a prayer. ‘The might of a sword can make a king, but a rose in full bloom can make a saint. Here is your proof.’
No.
No.
‘Your body disappeared,’ said Sera, a touch hysterically. ‘Someone dug you out of your grave.’
Lark said, ‘I dug myself out.’
‘That means… No.’ Stumbling backwards, she released the gate. Part of her wanted to run, to bolt for the Paramour. But another part of her… that ancient, secret part was burning like a bonfire in her soul. Begging her to stay. To look and see. Tolisten.
Her feet won out, backing her onto the narrow street, away from the graveyard and the carriage and the undead Dagger currently smirking at her. ‘How is it possible?’ she breathed. ‘How is any of this possible?’
Andreas didn’t follow her. That perfect smile gleaming, he simply called after her. ‘It’s a new age, Seraphine. Anything is possible!’
For the second time in two days, Sera turned on her heel and bolted from the graveyard.
Chapter 29Ransom
There was a worm in Ransom’s head. A writhing, niggling thing that nibbled away his thoughts until only one remained.
Find the acolyte.
Kill her.
Bury her body.
Every time his mind strayed to the red mills of Marvale, to the woman he had left sleeping in his bed, and the dangerous, malevolent saint who had charmed himself into her good graces, a searing pain spiderwebbed through his skull. The worm returned.
