“Exactly,” I replied, my voice a sharp blade. “This is all a waste. What is the bloody point—”
I took a long, slow breath, remembering I was supposed to play a part. I wanted them to think I was on good terms with Samael.
Carefully, I schooled my features into a pleasant expression, then took a sip of the wine. “Well, I’m sure Samael has his reasons for keeping the room locked.”
Emma stood and crossed behind me, cocking her head. “I think whoever lived here had a wonderful life. I don’t see how you could go mad in here. I bet she had lovers every night, and wine, and delicious food. Music and intrigues. The castle is dull, but this room isn’t, and that is why I like coming here.”
“I imagine she had fruit tarts,” I said, trying hard to hide the anger in my voice. “I saw one once in a window.” And the gnawing hunger in my stomach had nearly driven me mad. “I saw a tart the size of your hand, with custard and berries, and a glaze on it that made it shimmer like a jewel. And perhaps she had coffee with cream and whiskey—”
I looked up and stopped at once. The rigid set of Emma’s jaw, her gaze cast just over my shoulder, made my stomach clench.
I turned to see Samael in the doorway in his dark cloak, flames dancing in his eyes.
For the briefest of moments, fiery chains flickered around him. “What are you doing in here?” His deep voice trembled over the room.
Emma had hidden her wineglass behind her back. “I was showing your fiancée around, as you asked.”
“I’d like to speak to her alone.” A sharp blade undercut his velvety voice.
I sat, frozen, at the vanity table, watching as the two others crossed out of the room silently.
Samael prowled over to me, unclipping the jewel from my hair. He dropped it in the drawer, then slid it shut. “These things are not for you."
I yanked it open again. “They’re not for anyone, which is a crime. You could sell them and feed an entire neighborhood.”
“Interesting theory. This room is off limits to you.”
I pulled out one of the carved chess pieces—the queen. “Why? Is it to do with the Iron Queen? Or the woman’s ghost?”
“As a thief, I’d expect you to be better at lying. You’ll need new material, Lila. The first time, it might have been creative, but now, I’m realizing ghosts are your go-to lie. Please try harder.”
I seethed. “I’ll have you know that I’m amazing at lying, thank you very much. It just so happens that I’m not lying. Is there something you wanted me to talk about?”
“Yes.”
“You need my help?” My eyebrows crept up, and I sipped the wine. “My day is getting even better. Help with what? Are we going to plan our nuptials? I would like strawberries in the cake.”
“My trail of the Free Men has gone cold,” he said. “They're no longer passing on any information to Ernald now that his cover is blown. Where do I find your friend Finn?”
I felt a smile creeping over my lips. Perhaps I would get to leave here after all. And I’d get what I wanted more than anything—to hunt down Finn. “I will take you there tonight, Samael. I have a very good idea where he might have gone. But I’ll need you to take that dreadful magic away. The one that makes me feel like I’m dying.”
He cocked his head, frowning. “You are dying.”
“What?”
“Mortals are always slowly dying; it’s the definition of being mortal.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You and Sourial are a bit of a buzz kill with that mortals are always dying philosophy, you know that? We don’t think of ourselves that way. Anyway, the important question is, do you have the power to lift that magic that makes me feel like I’m being ripped apart if I leave the castle?”
“Of course.”
“Then I will go with you. I can lead you to the very spot where Finn would hide.”
11
Lila
I opened the castle door with a flutter of nerves, worried for a moment that the spell wasn’t lifted, and clutched the little bag slung over my shoulder. I’d packed it with a snack and a knife. I liked to be prepared, though there wasn’t much I could do to prepare for that magic poison.
I took a tentative step onto the wooden bridge and pulled my cloak tighter around me, my muscles tense. Then, I took another. As I started walking across the moat, I felt no pain, and my body relaxed.
Samael stood by the river’s edge outside the gate, a dark silhouette in the roiling mist. Under his cloak, I caught the glint of his sword’s hilt. Whatever else happened, I was certain he wouldn’t let me out of his sight.
The old iron gate rose on either side of him. With his cowl pulled up, he looked like he was trying to hide from the world, only his bright gray eyes shining out from the gloom. Fog billowed off the river.
In the distance, the somber tone of a ship’s horn floated on the wind. Hard to believe I was actually about to get some freedom, to step out of this place.
I pulled my cloak tighter around me, taking a tentative step onto the path, waiting to see if pain would rip through my limbs. As I took one step after another on the crumbling stone path, I still felt nothing.
Just as Samael had promised, he’d released me from the spell—for tonight, at least. I felt a thrill of joy at being outside, even if it was freezing.
From under his cowl, Samael gave me a curious look. “What are you smiling at?”
“Several things. First, I’m finally getting to do what I need to do, which is to hunt down Finn and my sister.”
“Ah, Finn, your dear friend who gave you the bomb to assassinate me. You must miss him.”
“Former friend,” I corrected.
But I did sort of miss him. At least, I missed the friend I’d thought I knew.
“We’ll see about that.” Samael reached into his cloak and pulled out a simple gold ring. “Here, the jewelry you requested.” He grabbed my hand and dropped it into my palm.
I shook my head. “No, Samael. You’re supposed to slide it onto my finger. Really, you should be on your knees.”
His lip curled in a slight smile. “I kneel for no one.”
I handed the ring back to him. “Slide it on my finger and look me in the eye when you do it.”
“Is this really necessary?”
“Oh, absolutely. We are, after all, deeply in love.”
His icy eyes narrowed, but he held my gaze as he slipped the ring onto my ring finger. It fit perfectly, gleaming in the dim light. I held it up closer to my face, noticing words engraved in the gold—Angelic letters.
“What does it say?” I asked.
“It says you deserve death, and I have been far too kind.”
I glared at him. “That’s a lot of words to fit on a little ring.”
“Tell me where to find Finn.”
I started walking, and the wind rushed over the river, toying with my cloak.
Samael shot me another sly look as we walked. “What’s in your bag? Do I need to search it for bombs?”
“A knife.”
“Of course. You stole it from the kitchen, I imagine.”
“They have plenty. But more interesting than the knife is what Oswald gave me. An acorn necklace, to ward off the evil, and a fruit tart because I said I wanted one. Do you want to see it?”
“I have seen pastries before.”
“It is a true mortal-made wonder. If it doesn’t make you reevaluate the superiority of mortals over angels, then your mind is broken beyond repair.” I reached into my bag and pulled out a tart wrapped in wax paper. The paper had smudged the glaze a bit, but it still looked glorious. “What have angels ever done for the world that rivals this sublime art?”
His jaw tightened. “Do you plan to eat it at some point, or compose poetry about it for the rest of the evening?”
My stomach rumbled. “Oh, I’ve been saving it to eat on our walk. I haven’t wanted to destroy it. I’m enjoying the anticipation too much.” I held the tart up to the moonlight, a
nd silver light glistened over the glazed berries. “But honestly, have you ever seen anything so lovely?”
When I lifted my gaze, I found his gray eyes piercing me. “I have.”
I tucked the tart into my bag. “I’d share it with you, but I’m not sure you deserve it.”
“Why not?”
Because you said any half-naked woman would catch your eye. “Because you’re a bit evil.”
As I led him down a winding road of crowded brick buildings, he fell silent. We turned onto a crooked street that jutted off from the river walkway, leading us up into the East End. The street meandered northward between crooked tenements. Warm lights beamed from some of the windows.
Dark brick walls rose on either side of us. Someone had painted The Storm is Coming on one of the walls, with an eye above it, and a lightning bolt beneath it. I pointed at it. “Free Men propaganda.”
“You can read now?”
I smiled. “I’ve been practicing. And Emma helped me more today.”
He stared at the graffiti. “Their movement is growing faster every day.”
“You’re helping it grow.”
“I’m what?” A harsh edge undercut his voice.
“Don’t you think they might be fighting a propaganda war?”
“I don’t care what their methods are. I plan to kill them all so they stop.”
“But they will keep growing if people think they’re right. The public executions, the bodies hanging from the castle walls—all that will make their numbers swell. The people in Dovren don’t know that the Free Men are murderers. They’ve done a good job of framing you for killing those women, and they’re winning the propaganda war. All people see of you is you cutting off heads in the town square. It doesn’t make you seem nice, exactly. How much do you think that is helping you win them over?”
“I wasn’t trying to win them over. I was trying to scare them into submission.”
“When people are desperate and starving, they forget to be scared.”
“The reality of this world that mortals have created is that you can kill or be killed. That’s the world you’ve made. You’ve left each other to starve. Someone has to take control, and if I can’t be loved, I will be feared.” His low, reverberating voice sounded dredged from darkness. “If I don’t stop the Free Men, they will burn this country to the ground in the Night of the Harrowing. I will not stop this through love.” His final word dripped with disdain.
“You said ‘if I can’t be loved.’ Why can’t you be loved?”
Shadows seemed to gather around him. “I’m the Venom of God. I was made for vengeance and death. Don’t try to make me into something I’m not. In your words, I’m a bit evil.”
I supposed I couldn’t argue. The street we walked now opened into a park, where a lone, sparse tree clawed at the night sky. To the right, lights beamed from some brick buildings—abandoned factories that people had taken over as homes. To the left, train tracks ran over dark archways.
Samael’s hand twitched at the hilt of his sword. He seemed edgy, tense. “Why do I feel like you’re bringing me to my death here?” he asked quietly.
“Your death? First of all, you’re immortal. Second of all, I could not take you in a fight.” Though, for some reason, I liked the thought of trying.
I had to admit, I enjoyed the fact that I unnerved the big, bad Angel of Death.
I pointed at a rickety structure that was held up on stilts high above the train tracks. “That’s where we’re heading.”
The tiny, ramshackle shack had once housed one of the train controllers used to operate the switches. Abandoned long ago, it had made a perfect hideaway for Finn and me as kids. He’d go there whenever he wanted to get away from his mum for a bit, which was often. I didn’t know that Finn had definitely gone there, but there was a good chance.
“The old house on stilts,” I murmured. “I know it looks grim, but I promise I won’t try to murder you.”
We passed the dark archways, which always unnerved me. All kinds of unsavory things happened under those old arches beneath the tracks. A soft rain started to fall over us.
“Are you going to tell me what exactly the Free Men have planned?” I asked to fill the silence.
With his cowl pulled up, Samael seemed to be hiding, cloaked in shadows. “I’ll tell you only what you need to know.”
Frustration simmered. What could I do to convince him that we were on the same side? I whirled, grabbing him by the arms. He peered down at me, and I stared directly into the icy gray eyes under his hood. I was so close to him I could feel the heat rippling off his body.
“Samael, I’m not part of the Free Men. If I saw Finn now, I’d try to kill him.” Darkness was spreading in my chest as I realized I’d loved Finn, once, as a friend, but the old Finn was dead to me. “I trusted Finn, but he betrayed me. So did my sister. You’re an angel. Can’t you bloody tell when someone is being sincere? Is that not one of your powers?”
At last, Samael pulled down his cowl to give me a rare view of his perfect face—the high cheekbones, the markings. He had a strangely innocent gleam in his eyes, like he was trying to work out the world before him. He studied me for almost a minute, looking like he was trying to decipher me.
At last, he said, “All right. I believe you, Lila. About the Free Men, that is. I’ll never believe you about the ghost. Now release my arms.”
My chest unclenched, and I let go of him. “Good enough. We can work together, then.”
Flames danced in his eyes, making a shiver run over my skin. “But you should know, Lila, that I wasn’t lying when I said you were safest in the Iron Fortress. For one thing, as long as you’re out here with me, you’re at risk. I can kill mortals easily, but a horde of demons is a challenge even for me.”
I turned to walk again with a rising sense of dread. “What demons are we talking about?”
“The Free Men have a book that will allow them to control demons.” He cast a look behind him. “Then, they plan to summon a powerful, evil demon named the Harrower. Sower of Chaos. Sower of Death. Sower of Nightmares.”
I shuddered. “That is a lot of sowing responsibilities.”
“Demons are soulless creatures that can be used as weapons if someone knows the right spells. They feel nothing and have no emotions. They’re easy to manipulate but destructive beyond measure. The Harrower is one of the worst.”
“What do they want to use the demons as a weapon for, specifically? To kill angels?”
“Not just angels. They want to slaughter the mortal women who consort with angels, and the nephilim offspring. Anyone who works for us, like the servants they slaughtered in Castle Hades. They call it the Night of the Harrowing, the great purification.”
Sickness churned in my stomach. “I can’t believe Alice is involved in that shit. So the Harrower is their greatest weapon?”
“The Harrower is unique among them—a demon who can create more demons from the earth itself. They think chaos is an opportunity for their horrific vision to come to pass, and they will strike a deal with the worst demons to make sure it does.”
I took a deep breath. “Okay. So we’re up against some very nefarious characters.”
“But that’s not the only thing putting you in danger.”
“What else?”
He kept his gaze focused straight ahead, no longer looking at me. “Me. I’m a danger to you.”
12
Samael
Lila frowned. “I thought we agreed we’re on the same side for now.”
“We are. But I’m not the same as when you first met me. I’m enjoying things again. Food. Alcohol. Light. And killing. That’s the reaper side of me, the one who delights in death. Centuries ago, as a reaper, I killed with abandon, and I enjoyed it. I left villages full of the dead.” Hazy memories flickered through my mind, dirt paths running with blood. “After angels fall, we are corrupted versions of our former selves. Ever since I nearly died, the corruption has been worse.”
She stared at me, dark eyes piercing. Her hair whipped in front of her face. “But you won’t hurt me.”
“How do you know?”
“I can’t explain it, but I just know.”
Lila wanted me to be something I wasn’t—an angel who’d never fallen.
I shrugged slowly and pulled out a flask, taking a sip. What I would not be telling her was that it wasn’t just about violence. I was also thinking about the absolutely depraved things I’d like to be doing to her right now, starting with pulling her into one of these dark archways and ripping her dress off. I wanted to tease her body into uncontrollable desire, make her gasp and moan. I wanted to make her mine completely—to fuck her hard up against a wall while her fingernails clawed down my back. I wanted her nipples in my mouth, my cock inside her.
This was not the angel I’d been for centuries. This was a beast I wasn’t sure I could control.
I had lied to her completely when I told her I’d be attracted to any woman strutting around half naked in front of me. That wasn’t remotely true. But of course, I wasn’t about to bare my soul to a woman who had used seduction to try to kill me. My instincts were correct, since she had told me I was evil, and that she didn’t like me. Once this little excursion was over, I’d return to avoiding her.
She bit her lip, looking at me from behind a lock of brown hair. “Has it occurred to you that maybe you’re fighting your true nature too much? Maybe that makes it worse.”
“Are you saying I should just give in and enjoy an orgy of bloodlust?”
“No, but maybe you’re not meant to be a virgin forever.”
My mouth opened and closed in surprise. It almost felt like she’d been reading my mind. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Do you know what a constrictor knot is? If you struggle against it, it only gets tighter on your wrists. Maybe that’s what you’re doing. If you fight against your desire, maybe it gets worse.”
A constrictor knot …
Rapture (Hades Castle Trilogy Book 2) Page 5
