Shadowdance: The Darkest London Series: Book 4

by Kristen Callihan

  But the moment he stepped up to Thorne’s town house, Jack’s skin prickled along his neck. All appeared quiet, but a thick fug of dark power hung over the air around the place. The broken door lock did not ease his worry. Slowly Jack entered the main hall, taking in the destruction and the carnage of slaughtered help.

  Sliding out a knife, more for a sense of security than for actual protection, Jack made his way down to Thorne’s subterranean lair. More destruction. Blood splattered the walls; the furniture was broken down to kindling.

  Regret sucked at Jack’s gut as he made his way home to Mary. For Thorne alone he yearned to kill Amaros. So great was his ire that it took him a moment to realize something was wrong as he entered Mary’s flat. It was too quiet, and her scent was not strong enough. As though she was gone. Then he spied the message written in blood upon the blue-lacquered wall. Jack’s knees hit the floor, his head going light, his limbs ice-cold. And then came the rage, powerful and welcome, and running like lightning through his veins.

  If you want her, come and get her.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Having her body stolen was certainly a new experience. Mary had returned home only to find it gone. Fortunately, a GIM could always locate her body. Unfortunately, she knew quite well that she would not like where it was. And she was correct. Following the pull of her physical flesh, Mary soon found herself in the cellars beneath Lambeth Palace. Gold torchlight flickered off moldering, damp stones.

  She kept to the upper shadows, where the ceiling curved low and rough. She glided over a number of well-armed guards, each of whom wore a Nex tattoo upon his left hand and a tattoo of a chain about his neck—a blood-bonded slave. Mary wondered if any of them wanted to fight their servitude. Mary also wondered exactly how Amaros had discovered her home, until she entered an underground chamber and spied Tottie O’Brien seated at a table covered with food and drink. Tottie, who had claimed to see Jack abduct Holly Evernight. Tottie, who had access to Poppy’s files. Tottie, who would live in a world of regret as soon as Mary got her hands on her.

  But for now Mary hovered. Her body lay on a blood-encrusted trolley. Not a pleasant sight. Nor was that of Amaros bending over her. Augustus had been correct, the fallen was rotting again. His robe gaped and revealed his cursed flesh. A faint, almost sweet stench emanated from him. But the power radiating from him belied his decrepit appearance.

  Grabbing hold of her bodice, Amaros tore it in two. Mary supposed she ought to feel humiliation upon seeing her body exposed. Anger came instead.

  “Quite lovely, no?” he said to no one in particular, but Tottie answered quickly enough.

  “If you’re going to shag an empty body, tell me now, and I shall leave you to it.” Her pert nose wrinkled in disgust.

  “It will not be empty for long.” With brutal efficiency he reached down and ripped the key to Mary’s heart off her nipple. Blood welled from the torn tip, and Mary gave a mental wince. That would hurt when she came back to herself. And he now had the means to stop her heart.

  “I’ll do worse,” Amaros said to the room. “I can last all night.” He turned, and with unerring accuracy focused on her. “Fallen see spirits, Miss Chase. Now get back in this body, before I have at it.”

  It was a chilling thing to face him. She knew he’d make her suffer before he was through with her. But she couldn’t hover like a coward. Gathering her courage, she dove into her flesh. It hurt, just as she’d suspected, her breast burning with pain. But she did not let it show as she rose and pulled the ragged edges of her bodice back together.

  “So glad you could join us.” Amaros inclined his head with a smirk.

  Mary slid a hand along her thigh and felt the throwing knives still strapped there. “The pleasure is all yours.” Curling her legs up on the trolley, she turned to face him and, in the same movement, slipped a hand into the hidden opening of her skirt. Her fingers grasped the knife’s hilt.

  Amaros gave her an amused look. “Are you planning to use that weapon on me?”

  “No.” It would be useless against him. But against others? In a smooth glide of movement, she pulled the knife free and threw. It hissed through the air and landed with a juicy thud deep within Tottie’s eye socket. Tottie screamed, her body arching against the pain.

  “Traitorous bitch,” Mary snapped as Tottie flailed about, and Amaros laughed with delight. Mary ignored him and watched Tottie. While GIM could heal, they could not regrow limbs or eyes. “Think on your deceit every time you look in the mirror.”

  “You are a savage little thing,” Amaros said with a wide, insane grin. He snapped his fingers, and a pair of guards took hold of the still-screaming Tottie and dragged her out. When she was gone and her cries had faded, he turned back to Mary. “I do believe we shall get on well, Miss Chase.”

  “While we wait for Jack to come to my rescue?” She suffered from no illusion as to why she was here.

  “Yes.” All humor left his face, and he bared his teeth in a grimace. “Have you not seen?” He waved a hand over his body, gesturing to the sores. “It appears that I am not healed after all.”

  In a violent blur of motion, Amaros grabbed a goblet from the table and flung it against the far wall. The pewter exploded upon impact, sending thick shards of metal across the room. He kicked a heavy wooden chair over and stalked toward her. “I want my body restored! And that little bastard is going to give his blood to me. I am going to suck on him until he begs for mercy.”

  And Jack would let him. Mary knew it to her core. He couldn’t kill Amaros, or he’d be cursed to the same fate. But he’d do it for her. Well, Mary thought, she wasn’t going to let him. There was one game she knew how to play quite well.

  “I would like a new gown,” she said calmly.

  Amaros visibly paused, frowning at her as if she were touched in the head. But then he gave her a patient smile. “Of course. No need to sit in discomfort.”

  “Very kind of you,” she murmured, all the while letting her full GIM nature free. Beguilement, seduction. It swirled in the air and throbbed in her skin. She knew she’d gone luminous, and that her eyes softly glowed.

  Interest lit in the fallen’s gaze. As she’d known it would. Good, let him want her. A man led by his cock was a man who did not use his brain.

  “Now what are you planning, Miss Chase?” Amaros drawled.

  To kill you. “I have a proposition for you.”

  “Oh?” He loomed over her, his rage a seething mass of dark energy that affected her heart’s rhythm. “Other than a nice long fuck, what can you possibly give me?”

  Ignoring the flutter of anxiety within, Mary moved with languid grace to the table to pick up a goblet. Slowly she poured a glass of wine and raised it to her lips, Amaros tracking every move. Holding his gaze with hers, she let the glass play along the curve of her bottom lip, noting the way his own lips parted and his body tightened.

  “A better existence.”

  He paused, his mouth turning down. “Pardon?”

  “One that doesn’t leave you beholden to another’s blood.” She said it calmly, but Mary knew her ploy could turn down a wrong lane in an instant. But it couldn’t be helped. Jack needed her. She glanced at the table. “Might we discuss it?”

  Amaros smiled, the very picture of geniality and good breeding. A veritable wolf in sheep’s clothing. “By all means. Please, do have a seat.” His black robes gave his movements a flowing quality as he gestured to an empty chair.

  Once Mary sat, he righted his overturned chair and followed suit.

  “Jack’s blood heals you,” she said. “But it does not last, nor will it restore your heart.”

  Amaros’s eyes narrowed in impatience. “The Evernight girl has made me a new heart. It will work.”

  “It will turn you into a shadow crawler, decaying ever still, dependent on blood to stay whole. But I can make you a ghost in the machine. A true GIM, born from magic, pure and restored.”

  Suspicion clouded his eyes. “How
is this so? Only Adam is known to have such power.”

  In an effort to hide her clammy hands, Mary adjusted her skirts. “It was a gift bestowed upon me by Adam.”

  “And why would he do such a thing?”

  “That is my business.”

  Amaros’s nostrils flared before he got his temper under control. “I think you had better prove your claim, Miss Chase, for I remain wary.”

  “Before we go any further, if I agree to this pact, then you agree to leave Jack Talent alone. You must swear to never pursue him for blood or harm him in any manner.”

  A moue of resistance marred Amaros’s face. It was clear that he did not fancy this part of the bargain. A calculating look came into Amaros’s eye, and Mary decided to nip it in the bud. “This gift can only work of my free will. It cannot be made under duress.” She held his dubious gaze with one of cool authority, as if she weren’t lying through her teeth; she had no idea how the gift worked, or if it even would.

  The corner of his eye twitched, and he offered her a tight nod. “Very well. I agree. I shall not pursue Jack Talent for his blood, or seek to harm him. Easily done,” he added, “if you can do what you say you can.”

  “A blood vow, Amaros. I believe fallen are just as beholden to those as sanguis, yes?” It was said that the fallen had given birth to the sanguis line, hence they both had a taste for blood. Once a vow was made, he could not go back on it or his soul would crack. An irrevocable break that would leave him senseless.

  He did not flinch from her demand. “Blood oath it is. Dependent upon your ability to turn me into a GIM.”

  “Then we have an agreement.”

  Silver flared in his eyes at the words and that slightly off, tilted smile returned. “Not just yet. I’d have assurances as well, Miss Chase.”

  Her heart slowed. “Which are?”

  “What is to say that you will stay loyal to me? What is to say this isn’t a trap?”

  Right. Mary smiled, her eyes glowing with the light of the GIM and all the persuasion it afforded. “Because I love Jack Talent. I would die to protect him.” It was the truth. And if it came to that, then so be it.

  “Not good enough.”

  A movement by her side gave her only enough time to steel herself, then a guard was there, holding an electric prod against her side. Mary stilled. She remembered the pain of that prod. “Not very hospitable of you.”

  “Apologies,” Amaros said.

  “Nor is it a good way to get what you want,” she added.

  “I’d rather kill you and risk becoming a crawler than be betrayed, my dear.” His smile was a parody of a kindly gentleman’s.

  “Then what do you suggest?” she asked, as if her heart weren’t stalled within her breast.

  “I give you my bond, and you give me yours.”

  Mary did not like the lascivious look in his eyes, yet her voice came out smooth. “I’m afraid a blood bond won’t work on me.”

  “No,” he said, “but a slave bond will.”

  Bound to do as he willed. She’d never be able to harm him. Worse, once bound she could not leave her body in spirit form unless he willed it so. Her mouth went dry. She’d be his slave for the entirety of his life or hers. Mary took a steadying breath. She had no other choice. She knew perfectly well that if she backed out he’d kill her anyway. That truth was written in the steadiness of his gaze and the small but smug smile playing around his lips.

  She needed to believe that when Jack came for her, he would understand enough to do what was required. Together they were strong enough to defeat the fallen. She knew it within her soul. And it gave her the courage to forge ahead.

  “All right,” she said, with a calm she did not feel.

  Again came the mad gleam in the fallen’s eyes and the disturbing smile of triumph. “Then let us perform the bond and complete our bargain.”

  A knife appeared in his hand, the move so quick she didn’t see it. He sliced through his palm and then hers, the burn of the cut but a blink in her mind before he grasped hands with hers and held tight. As their blood mingled, Amaros gave his bond.

  “Now,” he said when he’d finished, “give me yours.”

  The words tasted like filth in her mouth. “By this blood, I am your slave.”

  Instantly something snaked around her neck, coiling tight and choking off her air. She struggled for a breath, and then the tightness eased, until it felt as though she simply wore a collar. Which she did. Unable to resist, Mary touched her tender neck. It was smooth, but sensation rippled beneath her skin.

  Her hand shook as she let it fall.

  “Lovely,” Amaros breathed as he fingered the hollow of her neck.

  Mary’s skin crawled. More so when he leaned in, his lids lowering with lazy intent.

  “Let us see how well this bond truly works.” His tongue ran over the tip of one fang. “Kiss me.”

  The demand punched through her like a fist, and she could not stop from leaning forward and putting her lips to his. A sob of despair stuck in her throat.

  “Mmm, like you mean it,” he said, as his hand slid inside her torn bodice.

  Go numb. Do not think. Numbness was not so easily achieved as before. As his thick tongue filled her mouth, she felt the humiliation of the act down to her soul.

  Jack walked into the ancient crypt alone, his footsteps making a hollow sound against the stone. Not a soul moved out of the shadows to stop him. He was, after all, expected. To plead for Mary’s life in exchange for his. But Jack was not so naive as to think either of them was walking out of this hell unscathed. Jack would plead, and Amaros would taunt and torture. Their mutual hate was too deeply rooted for any other outcome.

  Physical torture Jack could take. Hell, he’d prefer it. But Amaros would know that as well. What Jack could not stand was the thought of Mary being harmed. His love for her crippled him here.

  Only hours ago he’d been swimming in her sweet scent, drowning in her tight heat. Hours. The difference between dawn and dusk.

  “Piss and shit.” He halted, unable to take another step. How could he be strong and still keep her safe?

  He couldn’t. The realization surged through him. He had to rely on her strength to get her through. He had to believe in her. Just as she believed in him.

  Following her scent, Jack ended up before a pair of massive metal doors. Iron. Lovely. On either side stood a guard. They did not look at him, but immediately opened the doors.

  A vast underground hall spread out before him and, in the flickering light of torches, sat a court of demons. Raptors and sanguis. His skin crawled. They eyed him with greedy intent as he strode forward.

  Sitting at the far end, like a puffed-up king, was Amaros. And he was no longer an injured fallen. He was a GIM, his golden clockwork heart proudly displayed behind the glass window in his torso. Glowing with health and vigor, his GIM eyes gleamed topaz like Mary’s. How the bloody hell had he managed it? But Jack knew. And it drained the blood from his head.

  Mary. She was at Amaros’s side. Jack had expected it, but not to see her in a blood-red gown whose bodice was so low that the swells of her breasts spilled over. But that was not what curdled Jack’s blood. It was the chain tattoo around her throat.

  A bonded slave. What had she done?

  The floor beneath his feet seemed to sway as he forced himself closer. That chain tattooed about her neck… Blood pooled in his mouth as he bit down hard to keep from shouting.

  But Amaros knew too well how it affected Jack, and he draped a lazy arm around her slim shoulders, his fingers dangling just above her breasts. Mary stared at Jack, her eyes haunted and her skin pale. No longer could she pretend indifference, and the knowledge broke his heart.

  Jack stopped before them. “I’ve come to offer myself in her stead.”

  “Mmm,” murmured Amaros as he began to idly stroke Mary’s shoulder. “Well, that is a problem, for you see, I do not need you anymore.” His fangs flashed. “And I am rather enjoying my new
pet. Perhaps I’ll let my court use her too.”

  Bile burned up Jack’s throat. He wanted to scream, to lunge and kill the bastard. But he had Mary in his grip. Her gaze burned as though she willed Jack to understand something. But she wouldn’t speak. Likely couldn’t.

  Claws dug into Jack’s fists.

  Jack took a slow look around the room. He knew these fiends. They’d been party to his greatest humiliation. They’d been Nex. But if Will was correct, they were no longer.

  “You’ve broken from the Nex,” he said to Amaros.

  “I was never with the Nex.” Amaros waved an idle hand. “I used them. Never think otherwise.”

  “And yet you have recruited their agents.” Jack glanced pointedly at them. “The Nex will not simply let that go. Once Nex, always Nex. Isn’t that what they say?”

  A soft grumble went around the room.

  “They will come at you with everything they’ve got.” Jack said. “I give you free use of my blood. You may no longer need to restore your health, but it still has power.”

  “So you would join my merry band? To cut ties with your new little family? With the SOS that you hold so dear?”

  “They will understand,” Jack said quietly, as though sweat were not pouring down his back, as though the sight of Mary being debased did not drive him to one breath away from insane rage.

  “What makes you believe you are even worthy of their regard?” Amaros sneered. “A thief, a killer, a sullen boy who hates the whole world.”

  All of it was true. At one time or another he’d pushed away everyone and everything that mattered to him. He could be a right bastard, and knew full well when he was acting the part. Was he worthy? He glanced at Mary. A fleeting look. He didn’t need it, really. Every inch of her was committed to his memory. She’d live there until the end of time.

  “She loves me,” he said.

  “What?”