Page 75 of Our Vicious Descent
“How did I know to find you in the most unholy part of a holy place—where all the death gathers in the dark?” Karine’s voice filled the room.
Layla turned and saw the ancient reaper standing by a small door at the end of the crypt, near rows of hidden graves. The cold settled over her shoulders when she looked into Karine’s eyes. Her head began to spin. Even with the blurry edges encroaching on her vision, she still recognized the sensation of blood proximity, the inexplicable draw Layla felt toward Karine and the way her skin prickled the closer she came. With the blood she had shared with Elise, she wondered if the Saint girl could feel it now.
“You’re back. For no good reason, I assume,” Layla said.
Dressed in fitted pants and a silk blouse, Karine appeared to have distanced herself from her usual glamour, which only indicated further trouble. She flashed a bitter smile and stepped closer. “I believeyou’ve run this place into the ground.”
Layla scoffed. “Please—”
“How many reapers have you lost in the past few months?” Karine pressed.
Layla frowned. “Because of you. We know what you’re doing to reapers and humans alike. You have no more allies here in Harlem. You might as well give up.” She breathed past her swimming vision. The bite wound in her calf had yet to fully heal; it pulsed now, the venom from the undead wrestling beneath her skin as her anger increased.
“Not when there is still this clan, in desperate need of better leadership,” Karine said.
Cold fury rolled down Layla’s spine. She let out a shaky breath and glared. “This will never be your home.”
“I would not recommend fighting me while you’re at your weakest.”
“I’m not at my weakest.” Layla laughed sharply. “You had to wait until I had been poisoned to challenge me. Some ancient reaper you are. Pathetic.” The last time they had fought, she had nearly lost and escaped with her life only due to Karine’s mercy. Now Layla had a newfound rage to challenge her with.
Karine threw the first blow. She lunged for Layla, but Layla dodged her move, grabbing her throat to slam her against the wall. Karine gasped as Layla’s hands tightened around her neck. Black veins sprang out around her eyes and throat like roots desperate for water. As the veins in her face began to pop and vessels exploded inher eyes, sending black and crimson spilling over the white, Layla’s heart pounded so hard, she almost couldn’t hear Karine’s choked cursing.
A million voices clamored in her head, most of them screaming at her to stop. But the loudest of them all came from a rage that had been lying dormant for far too long. All that Layla had done to keep herself as human as possible rested in the control she forced herself to have. Unleashing this anger—this brutal monstrosity within, took more than a simple decision.
Karine’s hands closed around Layla’s wrist. Her eyes had no more white left; only red and black covered them like a bloody bruise. Still, she smiled and bared her dripping fangs. “You forget one thing. You cannot kill the monster that made you.”
Layla’s gaze narrowed in confusion for a moment. Then, in a split second, as Karine’s eyes flashed, she was thrown back to the past. When she had been a thirteen-year-old girl, lying broken on damp grass with no one to take her gently into death. When a tall figure of darkness had hovered over her and forced a bittersweet taste onto her tongue. There had been no words at the time, but Layla recognized the ancient aura in the reaper before her. Years of blocking out the moment she had turned only brought her to this painful period of revelation.
All those years ago, Layla had been making herself forget Karine. The one who had cursed her with every moment of suffering and torment.
Layla’s breath caught. In that small second of hesitation, whenher fingers loosened and her guard lowered, Karine dropped her hands. Layla did not register her movements until she felt the pain they caused. When she looked down, Karine’s hand had disappeared into her chest. Layla stumbled back, or tried to—Karine held her up with a fist pushing between her ribs.
Pain exploded through Layla’s body. It cleaved her in half, splitting every inch of her with fiery blades that only amplified with each twitch of Karine’s fingers in her chest. Blood poured between them, and Layla’s vision flickered in and out. She maintained eye contact with Karine anyway, ignoring the heat of her own blood seeping down her stomach and onto her feet. “It was you,” Layla breathed. The metallic tang of copper filled her mouth, and she let it trickle over her lower lip.
With her fangs retracted, Karine’s smile looked less malicious. But the blood covering her eyes showed Layla no mercy even as she kneeled and allowed Layla’s body to collapse before her. “You’ve known all this time. You just refused to face it.”
“No,” Layla coughed out. She knew Karine understood possibly more than anyone else—part of a reaper’s survival instinct involved forcing themselves to forget the darkness. So much of their souls became lost against their will. Layla swallowed a mouthful of blood and used the last of her strength to harden her expression. “Sena killed the reapers who killed me.”
Karine let out a dark laugh. “So she did. But they were my children, and she incurred an impossible debt, for which Harlem will now pay.” She flashed one last bloody smile before she began tosqueeze Layla’s heart.
But the pressure was brief. A small figure slammed between them, shoving Karine back against the stairs so hard, the entire room seemed to shake with her impact. Layla coughed with relief as she sat up, free of Karine’s hand in her chest. While a gaping hole still remained, she could breathe more clearly now, and the pain quickly dulled as the flesh started to heal itself. Her breath hitched in her throat when she laid eyes on who stood before Karine.
Josi towered over her, blood splashed across her face from the blow she had dealt the older reaper. Karine sat with a crooked jaw and bloody face. She tried to hiss back at Josephine, but her jaw flopped uselessly with each movement. Josi tilted her head to the side and sat down in front of her. “You don’t get to come into people’s homes and ruin everything. That’s not polite.”
Karine heaved out a sigh. “Now you remember our lessons?” She stood and, limping slightly, made her way to the door. “When I return, Josephine, I want you to remember who really took care of you when things escalated between the reapers and the Saints. Because it certainly was not your sister. Nor was it Layla.” She met Layla’s eye, then turned her gaze up at the entryway overlooking the whole scene, where Elise stood, watching. “With ancient blood in her, she’s more mine than she is yours.”
“We can discuss a trade,” Layla said quickly.
The older reaper raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
“Dr. Gray for Josi. You bring us to her, and we’ll give you the Saint.”
39
The betrayal cut deeper than Layla anticipated. Elise nursed an irritated mood the entire morning and during the ride to the dock. Others sensed the tension quickly—Jamie couldn’t help muttering to Sterling as they approached his fast boat. “Trouble in paradise already.”
“No one is surprised,” Sterling quipped back.
