Rapture (Hades Castle Trilogy Book 2)

by C. N. Crawford

  Even with the raven mask on, I’d recognize her anywhere.

  Anger flickered through my body. You liar, Alice.

  She’d driven Mum insane, nearly got me killed, joined an army of killers. My fingers tightened into fists.

  I started moving toward her, ready to break into my song. But as I approached, the music changed, and the crowd around me started whirling more frantically, jostling me.

  As the music swelled higher, the crowd started to chant.

  Albia awake! The storm is coming!

  Bloody hell, they were all singing the Free Men songs now. A sick feeling curdled my stomach. How many of them were caught up in this cult? How many of them knew the truth about what the Free Men were doing? When I saw the children chanting, my nausea only intensified.

  Frantically, I scanned the crowd for Alice. But as I looked for the pale blond hair, I saw something else that made my heart race. A crow I knew very well.

  Ludd. Finn’s crow swooped over my head, and I started to follow, stumbling through the revelers.

  Finn was standing at the far side of the temple, taller than the rest of the crowd, when Ludd landed on his shoulder. He leaned against a carving of a winged angel, and his body looked tense, shoulders hunched, blond hair curling out behind his wolf mask.

  I was so close to him now, only a few feet away.

  Then, he pushed off from the wall. I stared as he raised his fist in the air, chanting along with the crowd.

  “Albia first! Albia awake!” The deep sound of his voice carried over the crowd, louder and more fervent than the rest. A true believer.

  My jaw clenched, fury snapping through my veins. You betrayed me, Finn.

  I continued my pretense of stumbling, but behind my mask, I was searching the room for the best path out of here. We were nowhere near the entrance, which was a problem. If I called the angels here, how would they discreetly get Finn out without the entire crowd noticing?

  A plan started to take root in the back of my mind.

  I slipped back through the crowd and tried calling for Ludd, using the trick that Finn himself had taught me. My heart fluttered when I saw the bird swoop overhead. I kept up the ruse of drunkenness, pretending to stumble, still calling to Ludd.

  The crow circled over my head while I led him toward the entrance.

  As I got closer to the door, I turned to glance over my shoulder. My stomach clenched at the sight of Finn making his way through the crowd, looking up at his bird. For a moment, I felt a little twist of guilt in my heart. Right now, he looked like the old Finn. Easy to lead, attached to his crow. Bumbling and innocent.

  But that wasn’t him anymore. He’d grown into something twisted, something I could no longer love.

  I glanced overhead, relieved to find Ludd right above me. Once I got closer to the entrance, I gave the signal: “Chop-a-head, under hill, the king is dead, the ravens sing!”

  I sang it again, stealing a quick look behind me to make sure Finn was still following. I slowed my gait so he was just behind me.

  From the shadows behind a column, Samael prowled forward in his lion mask, moving swiftly behind us both.

  I gestured at Finn’s chest with a wild swing of my wrist. Only then did Finn seem to notice me, stopping in his tracks.

  Samael’s move against him was swift and silent—a subtle but powerful blow to the back of his head. Finn slumped backward, falling into Samael.

  Sourial swept in from the other side, slinging an arm around Finn’s back, making it look like they were supporting a drunken friend. Ludd squawked, flapping his wings, but no one seemed to notice us.

  As the two angels dragged Finn out the door, I found myself crushing the last little bit of guilt in my heart.

  23

  Samael

  In the dungeon of the Iron Fortress, I stared at the mortal man tied to a chair. He was still unconscious, his chest rising and falling slowly.

  My instinct was to end him now—a swift and brutal death. But that wasn’t why he was here. He was here to give me as much information as possible about the arrival of the Harrower.

  A few candles hung in sconces in the walls, and the light wavered over his slumped body. Down here, there were no windows to let moonlight in—only a stone ceiling, curving above us, and cramped cells where mortals had once trapped each other. Kings and queens had been murdered in here, as well as countless traitors.

  Today, I’d shed more blood. But at least it served a higher purpose.

  The mortal’s crow fluttered around the dungeon, squawking. I felt a pang of pity for the creature. He should not witness what was about to happen to his human friend, but I hadn’t been able to get rid of him. He kept finding a way in.

  I glanced behind me at Lila and found her expression grim. She seemed very much on edge, ready to pounce at any moment.

  “You shouldn’t be here for this, Lila,” I said.

  “If you were betrayed by one of your closest friends, if you were left in the hands of the people he’d convinced you to attack, would you really miss the opportunity to see his interrogation?”

  I turned back to the mortal, growing impatient now. I could snuff his life out as quickly as blowing out a candle, and with as little remorse. He had, after all, faked a photograph to convince Lila I’d murdered her sister.

  Slowly, his eyes started to open. An expression of dawning dread crept over his features.

  “Hello, mortal.” I wanted him, first and foremost, to understand that he had no control here. “If you give me the answers to the questions I want, I may grant you a quick death instead of an excruciating one.”

  His cheeks paled. “Bloody hell. I … I know very little. I’m probably not the person you want. I’m not important. You can’t hurt me just because I don’t know things!”

  “No … you aren’t important.” A plain statement of fact. “But you can tell me who is.”

  His gaze flicked behind me. “Lila. Lila. Lila!” He sounded hysterical, his voice ragged. “Lila is important. Why don’t you start with her? She should be chained up. She’s the one you should be hurting.”

  “This is nonsense,” Lila hissed. “You liar.”

  “Lila is right.” I got the impression he was saying whatever he needed to to save his own skin. I let my wings spread out wide behind me, blocking him from looking at Lila. “Who is actually important?”

  Raw fear flickered over his features. I’d start with the easy questions. Once he got used to answering those, I’d move on to the real questions.

  “When did you join the Free Men?” I asked.

  Frantically, the mortal flexed his wrists, straining against the rope. “Not long ago. What do you want to know? I will tell you what I know, but it isn’t much. Will you let me go if I tell you what you want to know? Will you let me live? I promise not to— to go back to the Free Men. I’ll go to Clovia. Or the northern islands. I’ll go—”

  “Shut up.”

  His mouth closed fast. I breathed in, sensing something in him I hadn’t noticed before.

  Finn the mortal wasn’t entirely mortal. I could smell it on him—the angelic side.

  I went very still, feeling the darkness sliding through me, my predatory side emerging. “Tell me, nephilim. Why would you join an organization dedicated to the extinction of your kind?”

  “What?” Lila shouted.

  A little hope lit up his face. “So you know! I’m like one of you. You wouldn’t hurt one of your own.”

  “That’s not even close to true. Give me a real answer or I will rip out your tongue.”

  A vein pulsed in his forehead, and he started shaking. “Please don’t do that! Fine … fine!” he shouted. “You want to know why? I hate what I am. I hate being a monster. I thought I could make up for my poisoned blood by fighting with the Free Men. Your kind needs to stop taking our women. That’s why I joined them. Please let me keep my tongue.”

  He was far too easy to break. He feared death intensely.

  “
My mother shagged an angel,” he continued, stammering. “The angels take our women. My mother was a whore. I’m telling you the truth. You can let me free now. Please!”

  “You never told me any of this,” said Lila.

  What a revolting person. “And will you send the Free Men to carve out your mother’s lungs?”

  He was shaking. “No. It would give me away.”

  “You make betrayal an art form. It’s almost impressive.”

  “I was trying to avenge my father, after what my mother did to him. Not my birth father. The man who raised me. I’m telling you the truth. And Lila is every bit as much a whore—”

  I hit him hard. The crack of fist against skull echoed off the stone arches.

  Through a haze of primordial wrath, I struggled to think straight. I couldn’t kill him before I got the chance to ask the important questions. I could feel my fury rising, the chains of fire moving around me.

  When the mortal looked up at me again, terror shook his entire body. He began shrieking—high pitched, echoing. Maddening. His little mind couldn’t handle my true form. Considering he was nephilim and Lila was mortal, it was amazing how much more easily he broke than her.

  I gripped him by the throat, staring into his eyes. “Stay with me, Finn. Stay with me or your death will be both excruciating and undignified.” I reached down and pressed my fingertips against his chest. “I want you to know that I can rip your heart out very slowly. So you will want to focus. When is the Night of the Harrowing?”

  Trembling, he gaped at me. “I don’t know. When they summon the Harrower. That’s what they call it. The demon. I don’t know. Please don’t hurt me. Maybe it’s soon? Yes, I think it’s soon.”

  “When?”

  Still stunned, his mouth worked soundlessly for a few moments. A bit of drool dripped down his chin. “Practicing the spell … Baron is trying to master it. Yes, I’ve heard that. Please. I don’t want to die.”

  “Where is the Baron?”

  “He’s … I don’t know, exactly …” he stammered. “I don’t know who he is. I don’t even know if it’s a man. It’s their biggest secret. Only the highest level knows. I’m not ready to die yet. Lila should be here instead of me. You’re targeting the wrong person. She’s evil.”

  “See?” Lila blurted. “He’s trying to turn you against me.”

  With a single swift movement, I jabbed my fingertips against his ribs, breaking one of them in a way that would puncture his lung.

  His eyes went wide, and he gasped. Pain would be tearing his mind apart now. I glanced behind me, catching a glimpse of Lila standing by Sourial’s side. Her expression looked grim, body tense, eyes locked on her former friend.

  I didn’t like Lila to see this side of me—the brutality that came so naturally to me. I was the being who snapped ribs and necks, who expertly used pain as a tool. But maybe it was best if she understood who I really was.

  In the world that we lived in—the one created by mortals—someone had to wield the blade to keep order. Someone had to crack the bones, to sever the heads to protect the vulnerable. I would be that person. The monster cloaked in horror, reviled, soaked in blood.

  And I would gladly deliver death to the wicked, because that was what I was made for.

  “Who is the highest level?” I asked.

  “They use code names. Secrets. So many secrets. Everyone has a code name. I know Alice, of course. Lila’s sister. Except not sisters by blood. They’re not alike. Not at all …” He struggled and gasped, nearly moaning with the pain. “Alice is important. You should find her! Bring her here. Instead of me. I can help you find her.”

  “Is she at the highest level?” Sourial’s voice boomed from behind me.

  The nephilim was still stunned with terror as he looked up at me. “Yes. She is, yes.”

  If he was telling the truth, which he might not be, Alice would know who the Baron was. But would she break as easily?

  “Where do I find her?”

  “I don’t know where she’s staying. I only know she sometimes meets them in …” He bit his lip, visibly trying to shut himself up.

  Another swift jab to his chest broke another rib. His breathing was now labored, panicked.

  “They call it the telescope of fire,” he grunted. “Telescope of fire!”

  Was he just uttering nonsense? “The telescope of fire.”

  “It’s what they call it. It’s where they meet.”

  “What does Alice look like?” I asked.

  I’d already gotten her description from Lila, but I wanted to know if their stories matched up. “Taller than Lila. Pale. Flaxen hair. Gray eyes. Black eyebrows. She wears a dark green coat.”

  Exactly as Lila had described. Good.

  “Does the Baron meet with her at the telescope of fire?” Sourial barked.

  Finn shook his head. “I don’t know. I’d tell you if I knew who he was, but they haven’t told me. I only know he’s in Dovren.”

  “Where in Dovren?” Sourial shouted from the shadows.

  Finn looked lost, delirious as he stared up at me—so gripped with horror and agony that he could no longer form a coherent thought. “Ding, dong, bell. Put him in the well. Why put him in? Not enough gin—”

  “Shut up,” I said in a low voice. He was jabbering now. I pressed a little harder against his ribs. “What exactly do they have planned for the Night of the Harrowing?”

  He sucked in a panicked breath. “Raise Lilith. They’ve made a bargain with her already. They will summon her and use her to kill all the unworthy. The monsters. The whores. The mongrels. Anyone who helps them. I’d be on the right side, you see? They’d let me live.”

  Hearing her name spoken aloud sent a chill through my blood. “When?” I tried this question again.

  His mouth opened and closed silently a few times, and then he blurted, “Close. And then it will all be over. There is a spy in your court.”

  I pushed harder, cracking another one of his ribs. “Who?”

  “Lila.”

  “He’s lying!” she shouted.

  Every one of my muscles froze. I felt darkness slipping out of me, chilling the room with a glacial frost. The crow flew overhead, crying out.

  “It’s not true,” she said from behind me. “I told you he would do this. I told you he would try to turn us against each other.”

  I ignored her, staring at the nephilim. “Lila,” I repeated.

  “I can tell you about Lila. I know. She’s not what you think. She’s not even mortal.”

  If he was going to call her a whore again, I might just snap his neck. But perhaps this was worth hearing. “Not mortal?”

  “This is obviously nonsense,” raged Lila from behind me. “Don’t let him mess with your head!”

  “Sourial,” I barked. “Take her out of here.”

  “She’s not mortal!” shouted Finn. “She should be locked up! She’s lying to you!”

  “He’s going to manipulate you!” Lila sounded nearly as frantic as he did. “He splits people apart, don’t you see?”

  “Not mortal?” I asked, pressing my fingertips against one of his broken ribs.

  “When you realize …” he stammered. “You will want to kill her. She’s your real enemy. Pure evil.”

  Why did I feel as if there were a little kernel of truth under this babbling?

  Lila shouted again, “He’s lying!”

  “She’s the one you want!” The boy was shrieking at this point. “Not me!”

  Furious, I whirled to see Sourial trying to drag Lila from the room. She was struggling against him, kicking and elbowing him. I could see him restraining himself, trying not to hurt her. If he didn’t care for her wellbeing, this would be over by now. She’d be lying in a heap on the floor.

  But more importantly—what the fuck was she doing?

  Darkness swept over me as I watched her break free and pull her knife from her bag.

  We weren’t truly on the same side, were we?

&n
bsp; 24

  Lila

  I gripped the knife hard, my body vibrating with ferocity. A pressure was rising in my skull, spiked and ragged. I felt as if thorny vines were blooming inside my mind, forcing out my own thoughts. Ludd was screeching, as if he sensed something terrible was about to happen. As if he knew that I needed to keep Finn quiet.

  A dark side of me was rising. I thought the ghost might be stoking it—she wanted me to silence Finn.

  There was only one way to stop this pressure. I had to keep the secrets sealed tight. The ghost demanded it.

  Kill or be killed. Her voice boomed in my thoughts, a voice that wasn’t quite my own. She terrified me, yes, but she was also warning me. If I wanted to live, Finn had to die. Now.

  The angels could not know what I was. Finn had told them I was a spy. What if they discovered I was a demon?

  If Samael knew the truth about me, I’d be the one strapped to the chair, ribs broken. He believed demons did not have souls, that their emotions were entirely feigned. And it seemed like I could be a demon. There was no guilt in hurting a soulless creature who couldn’t feel, was there?

  The world dimmed around me until I saw only my target.

  Kill or be killed, the ghost sang.

  I threw the knife so fast neither of the angels had the chance to stop me. It struck Finn in the jugular, and blood poured from his throat. Dead.

  But they weren’t thinking about that, no. They were staring at me with uncomprehending bafflement. Shadows seemed to whirl around Samael, then a chill swept through the room; frost spread through the air.

  At least my mind was free of the pressure. I started to catch my breath, shocked at what I’d just done. I’d just killed Finn. My throat tightened, and I tried not to think about what he’d been like as a kid, or how we’d play hide and seek around the market stall. How we’d hunted for treasure together on the muddy river bank. It was nearly impossible to reconcile that little boy with this creature who’d called me a whore.

  With my entire body shaking, I closed my eyes, trying to block out the angels’ shouting. I felt hollow, broken. I felt as if I’d killed a part of myself—the innocent part of me.