Between the Blade and the Heart

by Amanda Hocking

  “Kai egéneto fos,” she breathed, and all the candles lit up again. Only this time, for a few seconds, they burned bright purple before changing back to their normal amber flame.

  Eisheth threw her head back, cackling with glee. “That was great!”

  “I held up my end of the deal,” Oona said proudly. “Now tell us three things about Bram.”

  “Okay.” Eisheth sat up a bit. “I’ve known Bram for two years. He hates surprises, and…” Her smile widened, growing more seductive. “He’s going to kill you when he gets home.”

  That caused her to burst out laughing again, and Oona looked nervously at me. I was about to tell her that everything would be okay when the door to the apartment opened. Eisheth barely managed to stifle her giggles as a man strode into the room.

  His eyes were hard, but his smile was bemused. His dark hair had begun graying at the temples, and though he looked much like a mortal man, he was much taller and more broad-shouldered.

  When he caught sight of Marlow standing in front of his fireplace, he let out a warm chuckle.

  “You’re not Bram Madichonnen,” Marlow said, and I could hear the struggle in her voice to keep its tenor even. “You’re Tamerlane Fayette.”

  He grinned more broadly. “You’re in luck. I’m both.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  Marlow took slow, deliberate steps away from the fireplace, putting herself between where Oona and I stood and where Tamerlane had entered the room. I did the same, moving so I partially shielded Oona.

  As soon as Marlow said his name, I recognized him from the pictures I’d seen, but he did look different. In photos, his skin was tawny and warm, but now it had a dull blue tone to it, making it appear ashy and gray.

  And somehow, he seemed bigger. Larger and more imposing.

  “You don’t look happy to see me,” Tamerlane commented. “Or are you just unhappy that I’m still alive?”

  “Why would I be unhappy?” Marlow smiled, and very slowly the two of them began circling each other. He would step closer, and she’d step away—keeping the distance between them the same. “I’m the one that let you live.”

  “Oh, I haven’t forgotten.” He scratched his head, seeming very nonchalant, and I noticed the ends of his fingertips were scarred—he’d burned his fingerprints off to help mask his identity. “I’ve been meaning to thank you for that. But I hadn’t been able to find your address. You Valkyries are always so secretive about where you live.”

  I tensed, even more so than I already was, and Oona gasped softly behind me. While we’d been hunting down the draugrs, it hadn’t occurred to me that they’d be hunting us.

  “You’ve been looking for me?” Marlow asked calmly.

  “How else could I send you a gift of gratitude? Maybe a bouquet of flowers?” Tamerlane mused. “You seem like the kind of woman that would appreciate a few dozen red roses.”

  “That’s very kind but unnecessary,” she demurred, opting for flirtatious, even though I knew that she was furious.

  “I only recently came back to the city.” Tamerlane paused to give her a puzzled look. “How did you know I was here?”

  “I didn’t,” she replied. “It was just serendipity. Why did you come back?”

  He smiled slyly. “I thought you might have some regrets about me.”

  “Now, why would I?” Marlow asked.

  “Someone’s been looking for me,” Tamerlane told her. “I’ve heard rumors of my name, of people searching for me, and you’re about the only ones left alive that knew I hadn’t died.”

  My breath caught in my throat. Asher—in his search to avenge his mother—had brought attention back to us. If he hadn’t found me when he did, there was a very good chance Tamerlane would’ve gotten to us first.

  “What about your family?” Marlow asked. “I let you live so you could care for them.”

  Tamerlane’s expression fell, but only for a moment, and he was quick to erase it. “Those are things of the past. I no longer have ties to anything on this earth. My work has become much greater than that.”

  “And what is your work?” she asked.

  “I don’t think you’d approve.” He grinned. “Or even understand.”

  Eisheth laughed at that, a hysterical cackle rising deep from within her, as she lay on the bed watching this all unfold with rapt attention.

  “Try me,” Marlow replied.

  “I would really love to catch up with you. Honestly, I would love to hear how you’ve spent the last four years of your life, while I’ve been toiling away as a draugr.” Tamerlane held his hands up, shrugging helplessly. “But I haven’t got the time.”

  Marlow had moved so she was standing between Tamerlane and the door, blocking his escape, and she was facing me.

  “You know I can’t let you leave alive,” she warned him. “Not again.”

  “If you really wanted me dead, you had to kill me back then,” Tamerlane contradicted her. “Now it’s too late.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Sheathed on her hip, my mother’s sword began to glow red. It was much duller and muddier than normal, but Marlow reached for it. She pulled it out just as he moved toward her, but it was already too late.

  It only took a matter of seconds—Mördare was pointed at Tamerlane, and then he was on Marlow, grabbing her wrist and breaking it with an audible snap. He turned my mother’s own sword on her and drove it through her stomach. From where I was standing, I saw her eyes widen with pain and shock, and her mouth hung open.

  “No!” I cried out.

  Oona wrapped her arms tightly around my waist, trying to hold me back. I began dragging her across the floor as I ran toward Marlow. I screamed as her body started to slip backward, going limp, and I reached for my own sword.

  “Tin prostasía mas me to fos sas!” Oona shouted as she held on to me with all her might.

  Suddenly the candle flames turned dark purple and exploded around us, throwing me and Oona back against the wall. Eisheth screamed as hot purple smoke filled the room, burning my eyes and lungs. The windows exploded outward, and Oona bent over me, trying to shield me from the flames and glass.

  “Eisheth, we leave now!” Tamerlane shouted.

  I lifted my head just as the fires went out, and tiny bits of glass were still falling to the floor, like the room was raining glitter. Eisheth grabbed on to Tamerlane, and she ran toward the window, her large wings already flapping, and leapt out into the night.

  I scrambled away from Oona, crawling through the smoke and melted wax to where Marlow lay on the floor. Her blood had already begun pooling around her, and Mördare left her stomach glowing red.

  “Marlow,” I said, brushing back the hair from her face.

  A line of blood trailed down from her lips as she stared up at me. Her mouth was moving, but no words came. Her body twitched slightly, like she was having subtle convulsions.

  “Marlow, it’ll be okay. Just hang on,” I told her.

  Her back arched, and she stopped trembling. Her eyes changed from dark gray to pure white—no pupil, no color. An inhuman voice came from her mouth, sounding twisted and angry, saying, “Remember that we all must die.”

  Then she gasped once, and her body collapsed back on the floor. She went limp, and her head lolled to the side.

  “Marlow!” I wailed, shaking her as if that would help somehow. Oona had crawled over to my side, and she put her hand on my arm. So I turned to her, screaming, “Help her! Oona, you have to help her!”

  “I can’t!” Oona said with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mal. But I can’t. I can’t bring her back from the dead.”

  “Why didn’t you use that spell sooner?” I demanded. “Why didn’t you save her?”

  “I couldn’t.” She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “It all happened too fast, and I didn’t realize until it was too late. I’m sorry.”

  Then a strange weakness came over me, and I collapsed into her arms, sobbing. Oona stroked my ha
ir, repeating, “I’m so sorry,” over and over.

  THIRTY-TWO

  “Who do we call?” Oona asked, her voice soft and comforting as she gently rubbed my back. My mother’s body lay a few feet away from us, and her blood was staining the knees of my jeans. “Mal? Who do we call?”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Oona said simply. “Do I call the police? Or … we can’t just stay here with Marlow like this. Tamerlane might come back.”

  I sat up slowly, and I felt like I was waking from a horrible dream. I hadn’t been sleeping, but it still felt like none of this could be real. My eyes were raw from crying, and I rubbed at them as I looked around at the disaster that had become of Eisheth’s loft.

  “Who do we call?” I repeated.

  “Do you have a number? I can call, if you need me to,” Oona offered.

  I stood up, thinking that somehow that would make me feel better, and I stumbled over toward the windows. The wind was blowing in, making the curtains billow into the room and letting the amber glow of the city stream in, along with the icy night air.

  “Mal?” Oona called after me, sounding worried.

  “Samael,” I said thickly.

  I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and pulled up his number. Then I stood waiting, rubbing my temple and hoping he answered, because I didn’t know what to do if he didn’t. This was too much of a mess, and I didn’t trust anybody else.

  “This is Samael,” he answered.

  “Samael, it’s Malin.” I sniffled and closed my eyes. “I need you to come down here, and I think we need … we need a cleanup crew.”

  “What are you talking about?” Samael asked. “What’s going on?”

  “Everything went to shit,” I said. “And Marlow—” My voice cracked on her name.

  “What about Marlow?” Samael asked, and I could already hear the panic edging into his voice.

  I let out a shaky breath and finally forced myself to say, “She’s dead.”

  There was a long silence on the line, so long I was afraid the call had been disconnected, but I didn’t have the strength to say anything. So I just waited, and finally Samael asked, “Where are you?”

  I gave him the address, and he promised to be here as soon as he could. I don’t know how long it took him to get here. Maybe five minutes. Maybe an hour. All I knew was that by the time he arrived, the loft had gotten very cold, and Oona was worried that I might get sick. She wanted me to step back from the window, but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t, and I didn’t know how to explain it to her.

  And then Samael came, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget his expression when he saw Marlow. His face went white, his eyes widened, and I don’t think he breathed or moved for a long time. The cleanup crew—a group of lower-level angels who took care of this kind of thing—stayed outside the door, and when they asked to come in, Samael barked at them to stay put until he called for them.

  As he stared down at my mother, fighting back tears, I think that was the first time I really knew that he was in love with her. I’d known for a while that they had some kind of flirtation, but I could see now, as he realized she was gone … he was devastated.

  When he asked me what had happened, I thought about lying to him. For a moment I really considered hiding the truth to protect my mother. Nobody else needed to know what she’d done, that she’d failed at her job and it had gotten her killed.

  But Tamerlane Fayette was still out there, and he wanted to kill everyone who knew he was alive, which now included me, Oona, Asher, and Asher’s grandmother. Not to mention any other innocent people who got in his way.

  So I told Samael the truth. I told him, and I watched his expression change from shock to horror to disappointment to horror again. I didn’t leave out anything, even the parts I wanted to, and he listened patiently.

  “We need to keep this quiet,” he said once I’d finished, and the air had gotten so cold, I could see his breath when he spoke. “I can do that, and I will. No one outside of this room can know the truth. Not yet. Do you understand?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Do you have someone you can go home with?” he asked. “I don’t think you should be alone.”

  I motioned to Oona, who’d been standing beside me the whole time, but Samael looked at her like he’d forgotten she was there. This was all a lot to take in for him, I supposed.

  He nodded, then, brusquely, he reached out and hugged me, pulling me close to him. I closed my eyes for a moment. He smelled of autumn leaves and campfires, and his arms were so warm and strong. I realized that I couldn’t remember the last time my mother had hugged me, or what she smelled like, other than cigarillos.

  “I’ll take care of her,” he promised me, then he let me go. “You go home and take care of yourself. We’ll talk soon, okay?”

  I nodded because I didn’t think I could talk without crying, not anymore, and I let Oona take me out of the apartment. I don’t remember leaving or walking or any of the way home, but I know that eventually we made it home. The first thing I said was that I didn’t know if I was an orphan or not, because my mother had never bothered to tell me much about my father. That never seemed like a big deal before, and I was always fine that it was just the two of us, except now it wasn’t just the two of us.

  It was just me, and it would only be me from here on out.

  “That’s not true,” Oona insisted as I stared out the window at the vast city below us. “You have me. You’ll always have me.”

  “Nobody really has anybody,” I told her. “We all must die, and we all die alone.”

  THIRTY-THREE

  I lay on the sofa in my living room, staring blankly ahead. Bowie kept nuzzling my hand, trying to get me to pet him, but I couldn’t muster the energy.

  “You need to eat something,” Oona told me, standing before me with a bowl of harira soup. The scent of savory tomatoes, ginger, and lentils was usually enough to whet my appetite, but right now it only made me more nauseated.

  “No, I don’t,” I said.

  “Mal.” She sighed and set the soup on the kitchen counter. “You’ve been lying on that couch since we got home yesterday. You can’t just stay there forever.”

  I rolled over, burying my face in a throw pillow, and muttered, “Watch me.”

  After a long silence, Oona gently said, “I can’t even begin to pretend to understand how you feel.”

  “Then don’t try,” I snapped.

  “Fine. I’ll leave you be. But when you want to talk, I’m here.”

  I heard her footsteps retreating to the other side of the apartment, toward her bedroom, but a knock at the front door halted her progress. I didn’t bother to roll over and instead just lay buried in the couch, listening as she answered it.

  “Asher,” Oona said in surprise.

  “I heard about Marlow, and I wanted to see how Malin was doing,” he said.

  “That’s how she’s doing. You can try talking to her, but I don’t know if she’ll talk back,” Oona offered bleakly.

  I rolled over to see Asher standing in the doorway. His normally handsome face had aged under the burden of remorse. Dark circles under his grave eyes, deep creases of worry on his forehead, and lips pressed into a grim frown.

  “How’d you hear about Marlow?” I asked.

  He took that as an invitation and stepped into the apartment. Oona closed the door behind him before quietly retreating to her room, giving Asher and me some space to talk alone. There was an awkwardness about him, a tension that hadn’t been there before, and it wasn’t from Marlow’s death.

  I could almost feel him wanting to reach out and comfort me, but he managed to suppress the urge, instead restlessly rubbing at his thumb as he stood in front of me.

  “I have some friends who are on the Vörðr force,” Asher explained. “They said they’re keeping it under wraps how she died, but it’s still big news on the inside that a Valkyrie was kille
d.”

  I sat up on the couch and, without the potency it deserved, I mumbled, “Tamerlane killed her.”

  For a moment Asher said nothing. Slowly, almost weakly, he sat down on the couch beside me and gaped at the floor. “You found him?”

  “Yeah, but only long enough for him to kill Marlow and then escape again.”

  He grimaced. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

  “You didn’t drag me into anything. This was all Marlow’s fault, remember?” I said. “And besides that, Tamerlane admitted he was in search of Marlow, so it was only a matter of time until he found her. Her death was inevitable.”

  My mind went back to the conversation I’d had with Sloane Kothari, where she admitted that she didn’t believe in free will, and that meant the whole world moved in predestination, with someone—or something—controlling everything.

  I wondered again if that was true, and if there was anything I could’ve done to prevent Marlow’s death, or if this was the way it was always supposed to be.

  Maybe she’d broken free from her track, and her punishment had been death. Because if the whole world exists rotating in a perfect order, there is no room for someone going rogue. Eventually she was bound to be ground up and destroyed inside the machine.

  “I’m still sorry it happened,” Asher said, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I shrugged emptily. “Yeah, well, you know how it goes.”

  “When my mom died, it was the worst day of my life. I didn’t know how I would ever get through it,” he said.

  I rubbed my eyes and snapped, “But you did, and I know that I will, too.” I was in no mood for a pep talk or an inspirational speech about the strength within or how I’d always carry memories of Marlow with me.

  “I never doubted that you would,” he responded. “You’re strong and resourceful.”

  “Thanks.”

  “But it does make it easier if you let people help. My grandma—”

  “You had a family to help you,” I cut him off. “I don’t.”

  “Family doesn’t have to just be blood,” Asher contended. “You have your friend Oona. You have me. I’m sure you have others you can count on.”