by Eva Brandt
I let the dead body fall to the ground and returned to Lucienne’s side. The battle hadn’t progressed too much while I’d been distracted by my feast. I surmised the whole thing had taken less time than I myself had originally realized. Excellent.
I dropped to my knees next to Lucienne and Bjorn, my thoughts a frantic whirlwind of anxiety and determination. The blood now pumping through my veins should grant me the strength to use my full arsenal of mental abilities, but would it be enough? This was Bjorn and Darius’s field of expertise, not mine, and if they had been trapped in Vandale’s mind—or wherever they were—it wasn’t very likely I’d do better.
The decision was taken out of my hands when a surge of powerful mental magic echoed through me, stemming from Lucienne and threatening to consume my consciousness the same way Pierce Darius’s firestorm had almost consumed my body. “We need to go,” she whispered. “We need to go. Please... Someone. Anyone. Help me.”
Well, that settled it. Despite my misgivings, I had no choice but to trust my innate vampiric abilities and the bond I shared with Lucienne.
Taking a deep breath, I allowed my instincts to guide me. When I moved again, it was not Lucienne I reached for, but Bjorn. As I buried my fangs in his throat, the world exploded into a rush of fire and emotion so intense it hurt. The heat confirmed what I’d already known, the fact that Bjorn had at one point compromised his integrity. While my species had grown way past the water-aligned beings we had originally been, we still didn’t much care for fire, so the magic in Bjorn’s blood clashed with mine. Even so, I held on, all the while forcing my mind to connect with his.
It worked better than I expected, and in the blink of an eye, I found myself standing on a white beach, in front of a glowing black shield. Bjorn was currently attempting to break through, but he hadn’t encountered much success.
He must have sensed my presence because he stopped his futile attempts to shatter the shield and turned toward me. If he deemed my appearance strange or even realized what made it possible, he didn’t show it. Instead, he let out a relieved breath. “Malachai! Thank the gods. You need to help me. I can’t bypass the barrier on my own.”
I didn’t have to be told twice. Wordlessly joining Bjorn, I summoned the full extent of my abilities and reached into the swirling black mass. By my side, Bjorn did the same, the purplish glow of his natural incubus magic attacking the shield once again.
It wasn’t an easy battle. The stronger we pushed, the harder the shield fought back. It almost seemed like it was actually alive. We ended up “convincing” it to move aside just enough to allow us to pass. It might have been a risky approach since it could easily mean we’d be stuck here, but we didn’t have any other choice. A different power was summoning us from beyond the barrier. Heeding Lucienne’s plea, we took a leap of faith and ventured into the unknown.
Considering the general size and structure of the mental landscape of an Accursed, it should have been difficult to find our way through Vandale’s consciousness. It wasn’t. If anything, it was almost too easy. The beach we ended up on was fairly easy to navigate, and the sight of the massive, snail-like monster looming in the distance gave us a tentative target.
“Shit,” I cursed as I started to jog. “What in the name of the gods is that?”
“I have no idea, but whatever it is, I don’t want to have anything to do with it. We need to track down Lucienne and Darius and get out of here, fast.”
“Let’s just hope we don’t have to fight that thing to reach them.”
Bjorn didn’t answer, although I suspected he wasn’t feeling too optimistic about our chances in that regard. In my heart, I agreed. If the monster was there, it was for a reason. It had to be guarding Lucienne and keeping her and Darius trapped here.
Shockingly, it didn’t take long for me to be proven wrong. Luck was on our side, at least a little, since we found our two missing persons without having to engage the snail in combat.
Lucienne and Darius lay on the sand, motionless and far too close to the monster for my comfort. However, the snail did not seem inclined to hurt them. Instead, it had, for some obscure reason, targeted Vandale. Vandale was fighting back with a viciousness that made him even more terrifying than he’d already been.
I’d deemed the monster a creation of Vandale’s mind, but apparently, that wasn’t the case. As crazy as Vandale might have been, I doubted he would have torn himself apart in such a way. The snail had already lost a few tentacles, and the shell would be the next to go. If the creature had been a defense mechanism crafted by Vandale, that kind of damage would’ve shown in the representation of his astral self. I could only catch a glimpse of his figure due to the snail’s bulk, but he didn’t seem injured.
I suddenly had a bad feeling about what that snail represented and where it had come from, but I discarded the dilemma as temporarily irrelevant. “Time to go,” I told Lucienne. “Don’t look at them. Look at us.”
As I spoke, I knelt next to her and Darius, with Bjorn joining me. It was an almost perfect imitation of what we’d been doing outside, except for the presence of the blood-covered Prince Darius.
Lucienne was completely out of it, but she must’ve heard me because she did keep her gaze fixed on me. Bjorn nodded, and in his eyes, I saw what I needed to do.
I entwined my fingers with Prince Darius’s, all the while holding Lucienne as close as I could. Bjorn squeezed Darius’s shoulder and gently brushed his hand over Lucienne’s. His magic started swirling around us, even more potent than before, and I forced my skills to entwine with his while visualizing my real-world body.
I half-expected us to get caught in the dark barrier that had originally kept Bjorn from aiding Lucienne, but no such thing happened. I blinked, and the next thing I knew, I was back where I belonged, kneeling on the tarmac next to Lucienne and Bjorn. My head was throbbing and each and every one of my nerve endings ached, but I considered it a small price to pay.
“That was surprisingly easy,” I whispered against Bjorn’s shoulder. “I can’t believe it worked.”
Bjorn grunted and slumped against Lucienne’s body. For the first time, I realized I could still taste the copper of his blood on my tongue. Had I been feeding on him the whole time? Fuck. If that was the case, it was a miracle he hadn’t died on me while we’d been in Vandale’s mind and had managed to help me break Lucienne and Darius out on top of that.
I fully intended to check up on both his condition and Lucienne’s, but I never got the chance. The barrel of a gun appeared in my line of sight, and I looked up to meet Serena’s stern, cold eyes. “Things are often easy for scavengers, but I’m afraid you won’t be as fortunate as the rest of your kind,” she said. “Malachai Braun, you’re under arrest under suspicion of treason, breaching the code of the Guardian Corps and attacking a fellow Alarian officer. Come quietly, and you will be given a trial that will take into account all your circumstances.”
Shit.
Sixteen
Epilogue
Lucienne
“Ms. Hastings. Ms. Hastings, can you hear me?”
I cracked my eyes open and flinched as bright light assaulted my vision and made my temples throb in agonizing pain. As I instinctively shielded my face with my hands, some kind soul must have realized the problem and proceeded to deal with it. “Apologies,” the person in question said, flicking a nearby switch. “There we go. Is that better?”
Still wary after that first nasty shock, I nonetheless dropped my proverbial guard and tried to look at the woman who was talking to me. This time, it worked, and as my vision cleared, I found myself facing a stern young woman dressed in a beautifully embroidered white robe. “Welcome back, Ms. Hastings,” she said. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been run over by a truck. Twice. Where am I? Who are you?”
The pattern on her robe looked a little familiar, but I couldn’t hope to identify it, not in my condition. My head still hurt and my thoughts were so scrambled I could hard
ly believe I’d managed to utter so many coherent sentences one after the other.
Fortunately, the woman answered all the questions I could’ve asked without me having to provide further inquiries. “My name is Healer Vaughn, and you are in the healer’s wing at the Palasion, where you were brought in after a serious scavenger attack. You were very lucky in that your injuries were, for the most part, mild. However, you did suffer from severe psychic backlash in the incident and you may not remember most recent events.
“If you are up to it, I will ask you a few questions to determine your condition.” When I nodded, she inquired, “What is your full name?”
“Lucienne Hastings,” I replied automatically, all the while struggling to process the information I had been given. The Palasion. I’d heard that name before, but where?
“And what year and month are we in?”
“March 2019. I think.” I was pretty sure I was right but it wasn’t that unusual for me to lose track of time.
“And your soulmate’s name is?”
The unexpected question cleared the cloud of confusion swirling through my head. Scavengers. Soulmates. The Accursed. Everything that had happened to me lately, from the fight at the club to... To... Oh, God, Pierce, Declan, Malachai. Vandale’s attack. Darius.
The Palasion was the headquarters of The Pure Kingdom of Alaria, which I’d visited during Declan’s trial. Declan himself had mentioned it. Did that mean we’d won and didn’t have to fear that maniac any longer? If that was the case, where were my soulmates and why weren’t they here with me?
As the memories assaulted my mind, I struggled to not hyperventilate. I must not have been too successful, because the healer reached for my hand, entwining our fingers. Like every other Alarian, she was wearing gloves. Even so, it was annoyingly intimate and my first instinct was to pull away. Something held me back, and a wave of calm flowed over me, allowing me to think properly once again.
“Ms. Hastings, do not panic,” she said. “You are perfectly safe here, I assure you.”
I shot her a look of disbelief, wondering if she was being deliberately obtuse or if the concept of bedside manner didn’t apply to people who could not feel. “It’s not myself I’m worried about.”
Healer Vaughn must have understood my predicament, but the answer she gave me wasn’t that helpful. “I’m afraid I’m not authorized to provide too much information on the incident. However, I can tell you that casualties were minimal and our success is in no small part because of your intervention.”
Maybe it was selfish of me, but I didn’t care about the exact number of casualties. I only cared about a handful of people, and Healer Vaughn hadn’t said one word about their well-being.
“What about Declan? Prince Darius? Malachai?” I wanted to ask about Pierce as well, but considering Malachai’s reaction to Pierce’s mere existence, I doubted that would go over well.
“I am not authorized to provide that information,” the healer replied, repeating her earlier words like a robot. “You will have to talk to my superiors if you desire to know.”
Great. Red tape, just the thing I wanted to wake up to after nearly being killed by a psychopath. “I’d like to do that now if it’s possible. We can finish everything else after that.”
Healer Vaughn narrowed her eyes at me but did not seem very surprised by my reaction. “I will allow it, but be advised that your condition remains serious. You need to avoid anything that is too mentally strenuous.”
Nothing could have been more mentally strenuous than the stress of not knowing what had happened after I’d been knocked unconscious. Healer Vaughn must’ve realized that because she left my bedside and exited the room.
She returned mere seconds later, with a familiar woman in tow. “Enforcer Ayers can speak to you now.”
I remembered Enforcer Ayers. She was Darius’s subordinate, the same person who had provided me with clothes and accommodation during my first visit here.
She had been helpful at the time, even if I hadn’t particularly appreciated her presence. Maybe she’d be helpful now too. “What happened?” I asked without preamble. “Where is everyone? Did we manage to save Prince Darius from Vandale? How about Declan and Malachai?”
The avalanche of questions didn’t take Enforcer Ayers aback. As soon as I finished my last sentence, she offered me the answers I’d been waiting for. I almost wished she hadn’t.
“I’m afraid that while your assault on Mathias Vandale’s mind was successful and kept the situation from escalating, the damage done to us remains serious,” she said. “Prince Darius is in a coma, and not expected to wake up anytime soon, if ever. Guardian Whelan is missing, presumed dead at Mathias Vandale’s hand and former Guardian Malachai Braun has been taken into custody and is awaiting trial for his crimes against The Pure Alarian Kingdom.”
What. The. Fuck.
* * *
Malachai
Inquisitor Jason Chen leaned over me and tightened the silver cuffs around my already chaffed wrists. “Let’s try this again, Malachai Braun. Who are you working for?”
“Right now, nobody,” I replied with a bloody grin. “I’m... How should I put it? In the market. My previous employer wasn’t completely satisfied with my services, you see. No letter of recommendation or anything. It makes it difficult for a guy to find a good job.”
The taunt was wasted on an inquisitor who was Alarian through and through. “How do you know Mathias Vandale?”
“The same way you do, from the ‘Caution: Extremely Dangerous’ files we all receive. I know you have a better memory than that, Inquisitor Chen.”
“And why did you attack Inquisitor Lindberg?”
“I was providing him with assistance in the retrieval of Prince Darius and Lucienne Hastings from Mathias Vandale’s mind. I’m aware that it was an unorthodox approach, but the circumstances forced my hand.”
I knew better than to think my words would make a difference. It didn’t matter why I’d broken the rules I had followed for so long. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t my soulmate that I had attacked. I’d almost drained two plagues dry, seriously damaged the third, and fed on my ally’s blood on top of that. I was still considered a scavenger, so there was only one way this could end.
“If you are as innocent of wrongdoing as you claim, why are you resisting classical interrogation methods?”
If Chen hadn’t been Alarian, I would have called him irritated by my refusal to cooperate. Instead, he mostly seemed... curious? I wasn’t sure, but he definitely did not understand my train of thought.
I could not blame him for it. I would not be able to keep up my resistance forever. The blood I’d ingested had allowed me to block Chen’s attempts to scrutinize my mind, but if a more powerful Alarian decided to look into it, I would lose. And even assuming that didn’t happen, the strength I’d stolen from the plagues would not last forever. Chen would wear me down simply by starving me.
For the moment, though, that hadn’t happened, and I still had a few things I needed to do before I could drop the proverbial towel. “You’re going to kill me anyway,” I replied. “I might as well preserve a modicum of privacy while I’m at it.”
Chen stared at me with impassive, blank eyes. “I see. We’ll start over from the top then.”
He produced a silver scalpel and pressed it to my exposed arm. As the skin started to sizzle and burn, I let my mind wander away from what was happening to my body. He could not hurt me if I did not let him, and no pain he tried to inflict on me could compare to the helplessness, dread, and grief I’d been struggling with ever since my return.
Were the rumors true? Was Declan dead? It couldn’t be. There was still so much we hadn’t told one another, and we still had so much to do. And Lucienne... Where had the Alarians taken her after the battle had ended? What were they going to do with her? Did they realize that she was technically the reason why the prince had been so seriously hurt? If so, what did that mean?
The sound of the
door opening snapped me out of my thoughts. Not even the serious pain I was in could lessen the shock I experienced when Bjorn walked into the room, as calm and collected as always.
The incubus threw Chen a pleasant, meaningless smile and said, “Inquisitor Chen, I can take it from here. Thank you for your service.”
As he spoke, he passed Chen an authorization notice that bore the seal of Cardinal Vaughn himself. Chen set his work tools aside and took the notice. He quickly scanned the piece of paper and then offered Bjorn a curt nod. “Very well. Be advised that the prisoner is uncooperative. Prior to your arrival, I had turned to Level 3-approved methods.”
Bjorn’s gaze shot to the still bloody scalpel, but he showed no sign of being disturbed by the sight. Undoubtedly, he’d done far worse. Level 3 was still pretty tame. “Noted. I’m sure he won’t be able to be so stubborn for much longer. Praised be the High King.”
Despite the dire situation I was in, I found myself struggling not to laugh. Bjorn hadn’t even bothered to be discreet in his desire to get Chen out of the cell. Uttering the formal farewell of the Alarians in this context was just a fancy method of saying “go the fuck away.” And the most hilarious thing was that it worked perfectly. Chen accepted the words and responded just like I had expected. “With honor, we move forward.”
Without further ado, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. The door closed behind him with a decisive bang. “If there’s one thing I appreciate about Pures, it’s that they follow orders without question,” Bjorn said. “Are you all right?”
“I’ve been better, but it’s nothing serious,” I replied. “How did you manage to pull that off? I can’t imagine Cardinal Vaughn is inclined to do you any favors, especially now.”
“I’m not without my own connections, Malachai.”
“That’s fair, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to waste any favors you might have earned from the Alarians on a dead man.”
