Rapture (Hades Castle Trilogy Book 2)

by C. N. Crawford

  I crossed to the wardrobe and flung the doors open. Rifling through the gowns, I selected a silky dress, midnight blue and flecked with little threads of silver, embroidered with crescent moons. Beautiful.

  I slipped it over my naked body, and the silk rustled gently over my thighs, down to my ankles. It did feel good to be in a body again.

  Then I turned, my gaze catching on a row of dried flowers on the wall, tied up in little silver ribbons. They were the only thing different about this place. What were they doing here?

  Entranced, I crossed to them.

  Without understanding why, I found myself plucking one of them off the wall. Dazed, I pinned it to my dress.

  For some reason, the little dried weeds meant something to me.

  34

  Lilith

  I looked up at the carving above the mirror and cocked my head. I could feel the Raven King’s presence here. Vaguely, I was aware that he wasn't happy with me, but what was he going to do about that? He was dead.

  I turned back to the wardrobe. Shoes would not go amiss. My feet were already healing, and I wouldn’t feel the cold, but shoes would complete the ensemble. Little silver slip-on shoes. It truly was remarkable how Samael had kept everything here. It was almost like he had been waiting for me to return.

  I looked down at the hem of my gown, twirling it back and forth, watching it swish. With my lovely new dress on, I marched through the palace. It felt empty in here.

  Empty. My chest felt empty … aching.

  My fists clenched, and I walked through the bleak halls. Only the flowers outside were beautiful and lively.

  When I’d lived here, there had been more servants bustling around. I’d kept them very busy.

  I swept down the stairs. Already, I was imagining what it would feel like when I summoned my army from the ground. All that buried magic, waiting to rise. I’d bring Albia to life again.

  At the bottom of the stairs, I flung open the front door and stalked out, over the bridge that spanned the moat. Mist curled off the river, and a light rain was falling over me. A gauzy haze hung before the street lamps, and the gentle tap of my heels echoed off the cobblestones.

  The Free Men were calling this the Night of the Harrowing. They believed that the Pillar of Fire was a good place to begin it all. Once, it was where a fire had ended. Today, it was where the purifying flames began. With my army of demons, they would burn and kill, and it would all start with Samael.

  They wanted to make a spectacle of his death.

  Things came full circle, didn't they? Once, he had ended my life, and now, I would end his.

  As I walked, I touched the little cluster of dried flowers on my dress. A sharp pain lanced through my chest. In the dark night, I followed the winding streets toward the Pillar of Fire. I noticed some of the graffiti on the walls. Albia Awake.

  I could feel my connection to the buried world of Dovren. Beneath the cobblestones, there was a world of power. The forgotten ones. The slaughtered. The abandoned. I could bring the dead back to life again.

  I was ready to harvest the magic from under the city streets.

  I lifted my arms above my head. “The Harrowing Queen has returned!” My voice echoed off the stone walls.

  I still wanted crowds, though.

  I’d get the crowds at the Pillar of Fire.

  My thoughts kept going blank as I moved under the haze of numbness. It felt cold in my mind; the only thing distracting me was that painful fluttering in my chest. Images flitted through my head: a fruit tart; gray, innocent eyes that were trying to read me, shadowed under a hood.

  At last, I got to one of the old, stony streets leading to the Pillar of Fire. Five ancient lanes converged where the monument stood. A gentle hill rose behind it to the rest of the city. The monument itself pierced the night sky.

  Faintly, I could hear chanting coming from inside the column.

  I approached and pulled open the door to the monument. There, I found Samael chained to the wall. Blood streamed down his chest.

  A man stood before him holding a knife. And by his side, a woman with pale blond hair that hung like a lick of flame down her back. Alice.

  “Lila,” she said.

  Anger erupted in my mind, and I found myself grabbing her by the throat and slamming her hard into the wall. “That is not my name,” I hissed. “I’m Lilith now, but you can call me the Harrowing Queen.” I let her drop to the stone floor and turned to look at the rest of their faces. There, at last, I saw the awe that I craved.

  With a little smile, I turned to the stairwell that spiraled upward. “We made a deal, didn’t we? You raised me, and you want me to harvest my army of the lost from the soil. Where is the Baron?”

  “He’s not here.” Alice glared up at me. “I want you to know that the Free Men are legion, and we have the Mysterium Liber. We summoned you. We can gain control of the demons you raised.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  She shut her mouth.

  I glanced at Samael again, and he stared right back at me, his eyes gleaming with innocence. The piercing sharpness in my chest stole my breath.

  “I’ll kill him,” I whispered. “In a few minutes.”

  His expression was so mournful—

  My chest hurt so much, I nearly couldn't breathe. I stumbled, forcing myself toward the stairs.

  I couldn’t let his beauty distract me. But as I ascended, my mind kept filling with an unwelcome vision of Samael searching for acorns.

  Why did this vision transfix me so? The acorns were something I hated. Lila had used them to shove me under the surface again when I started to rise. So why did I keep thinking of Samael finding them? That was something Lila cared about, not me. And she was interfering with me right now.

  The fruit tart Emma had mentioned—the blueberries and raspberries had looked like little jewels, gleaming on top of the custard like it was a glorious crown.

  I gritted my teeth, trying to force the image away.

  I am yours and you are mine.

  This was pure idiocy. I was here to begin the Harrowing, not to dwell on mortal trifles. Acorns and little gold rings …

  I found myself lifting my hand, staring at the ring on my finger.

  “Stop it, Lilith,” I muttered to myself, like a lunatic.

  I shoved the thoughts from my mind as I reached the top of the pillar at last. Up here, there was a little balcony that overlooked the city, and I pushed out into the cold, windy night. The stone itself would conduct my magic through the earth. I wanted to see these narrow, winding streets fill with my children.

  The frigid wind whipped over me as I stared out at Dovren—the winding river to the south, the rising city to the north, the jagged network of stone streets all around me. This city had grown from me, and I had grown from it.

  I gripped the stone railing. Already, I could feel the city's buried power vibrating along the stones. Mortals were destructive creatures. They had slaughtered all the wolves, cut down all the trees. They had killed the elk and the deer. They had paved over the grasses and plants with their stones. I might be wicked, but I was a spirit of life. I would bring it back. I would make them rise again, more powerful than ever.

  I had been living among the buried ones for five centuries. Now, my body vibrated with strength, and I could hear the song of their spirits starting to hum from beneath the ground.

  As my magic worked, I watched thorny vines snaking up, wrapping around the monument. Red flowers bloomed from the ropes of plants.

  The Free Men, dressed in black, had gone outside to the bottom of the monument. At last, I had the audience I wanted. What good was having magic if you couldn't strike fear into anyone?

  A distant howling wound through the air. I knew they were coming for me—my lost children. In the shadows, glowing eyes prowled the crooked lanes. After all these years, the slaughtered wolves would find their home once more, here in the city of Dovren. The elk and the stags began to return, marching along the windi
ng streets, their bodies smoking with dark magic.

  Even as snow fell, flowering plants sprouted from between the cobblestones. Among the flowers, thorns grew—an army of their own at my command. The streets would teem with ancient life.

  The Harrowing would begin.

  Then, among all my marching children, mortals began creeping along the streets. They were dressed in black, holding torches. As they marched, they chanted, “Albia awake!”

  I tightened my grip on the railing. I didn't like mortals among my army. Instead of the victory I craved, I felt mostly empty.

  I turned back to the doorway and began to descend the stairs again. Now that I’d raised my army, I’d hunt down the angels first. Then the nephilim, then their mortal friends.

  The death would start with Samael.

  My mind flashed with an image of Samael drinking tea—

  I didn’t care what he loved. I’d bring the city to life once more. This city had been so quiet; now, I heard the faint music of life around me. This was true strength.

  When I reached the base of the monument, I found it empty apart from a pool of blood on the floor.

  Samael … Where the fuck was he?

  I rushed outside, and there before me, I saw my glorious army swarming the streets. But more importantly, Samael was here, arms still bound behind his back—just a few feet away from me. His head hung down, and two of the Free Men held him up. Ready for me to kill.

  But first, I’d look at my crowd. Tonight, the shadows were alive. Packs of wolves and stags, plants growing all over the cobbles. Life was reclaiming its place once more in this city of stone. And although I loathed the mortals, I appreciated that they’d arrived to worship me.

  I lifted my arms above my head and shouted, "The Harrowing Queen has returned!”

  Now, at last, I had the roar of the crowd I craved. The Free Men were screaming for me, cheering.

  “The Night of the Harrowing shall begin,” I shouted. “It begins with the Angel of Death.”

  He stood shirtless, with his arms chained behind his back. I turned to him and stared at the blood streaming from his ribs, his shoulders—deep gashes carved into his skin.

  I held out my hand to the Free Men, my eyes locked on Samael with morbid fascination. “Give me a knife, mortal.”

  Someone placed a smooth, wooden hilt in my hand.

  I crossed to Samael and lifted his chin to stare into his eyes. That gray—that perfect cold gray pierced me to the core.

  I couldn’t breathe for some reason.

  But I had to stay in control here. “You might think I didn’t feel it when you carved out my heart, but I did. I felt the betrayal.”

  He narrowed his eyes, and I could see the flames smoldering there. “You tried to kill me, Lilith. You planned to exterminate all angels. I had a good reason to cut your heart out. I’d do it again. But I need Lila to live.”

  I frowned. “Maybe I had a good reason for wanting angels to die. And you were wrong. I’ve always had a soul. I had to bury it under the ice. But if you'd loved me enough, you would have brought it back to life again. You failed.” I pressed the knife against his chest.

  He really was shockingly beautiful, even if I loathed him. I pressed the blade into his skin, but my own heart felt as though it were being pierced by the same knife.

  My hand started to shake. A sign of weakness.

  I pulled the blade away from his chest and closed my eyes for a moment. My mind blossomed with an image of Samael, sitting down to arrange little dried flowers and wrapping them in silver ribbon. He'd made the flower arrangement I was wearing on my dress.

  Confused, I touched the dried flowers. “Why is this important?” I asked. “Why do I keep thinking about this little flower arrangement?"

  “Because it’s important to Lila,” he said. "Because they reminded me of her humanity. Because they made me want to be like her. Merciful. A caretaker.”

  Something was cracking inside me. “You collected acorns.”

  Alice stepped closer. “You must kill him for the Harrowing to begin. The Baron demands it. This is where it all begins. The cleansing flames. It is the deal the Baron made with you.”

  I turned and slapped her with the back of my hand, as hard as I could. She spun, falling to the ground. I felt something for her. A deep, fiery hatred. Were those Lila’s emotions breaking through? “You don’t command me, little girl. I might look like the woman who was once your sister, but I am not. You summoned me, but that does not mean you can control me.”

  From the ground, she flashed me a little smirk that made me want to crush her skull. “On the contrary … do you really think we would have raised you if we couldn’t control you? We gave your magic to you, and we can take it away again.”

  I didn’t know if she was bluffing, but maybe it wasn’t worth taking the chance. And after all, we had the same goal. It all started with Samael, right?

  I turned back to him and readied my knife. The entire army of Free Men was watching me, torchlight dancing over their awestruck faces.

  “The Venom of God dies tonight!” I shouted.

  The Free Men chanted, “Albia awake!” The howls of my army filled the air among them. The wind whipped over me, and the city seemed to hold its breath.

  A flicker of unease whispered through me when I looked into Samael’s eyes again. Fire was rising in those innocent grey eyes.

  But this was what I had come for. All that time, while my spirit slept in the soil, I’d longed for revenge.

  He lifted his chin, staring into my eyes. Now, the flames were intense, and his golden tattoos skimmed over his cheekbones.

  “There you are,” I said. “I see the real Samael is rising again. Maybe Lila had you digging for acorns. Maybe she thought that was the real you. But you’re fooling yourselves. I know the real you. And the real you is pure death.”

  His eyes were shifting from that cold gray to bright flames, fury, vengeance, anger. How the hell had Lila managed to not run screaming from him? He was created for death, and he should terrify every mortal. Phantom chains appeared around his bare chest, blazing with flames. They started to move, snaking around him. Divine fire burned in his eyes, and he went still as a grave.

  This was the true Samael—terror incarnate. Power like this was hard to look at head on, and around me, the mortals started to scream. I could smell the pungent stench of their fear.

  But I wasn’t like them, was I? It was hard to remember that when I was looking at Samael’s true face.

  I flashed him an uncertain smile, trying to hold his gaze, even if it was too much for me. Mortals, demons—we were never meant to see this. I’d faced him before in battle, and I’d defeated him. And yet he still struck terror deep into my bones. “I was wondering if the reaper would come out. You probably don’t remember much before you fell, but I crushed you into dust once before. It will be nice to repeat that. But I want the reaper, and I don’t think he’s here. Not yet. I wanted to see him once more before I killed you. It was, after all, the reaper I first met all those years ago. But then you changed, didn’t you? You became boring.” I cleared my throat, trying to maintain control. Under the numbness, my heart fluttered, and I touched my chest. “You and I aren’t all that different. If things get too much for you, if you can’t handle what you’re feeling, you will turn into the reaper. The reaper doesn’t feel the pain in the same way anymore. That's all I did, Samael. I turned off the pain. I smothered it. We’re creatures of instinct, aren’t we? And that’s an escape. You do the same thing that I do. You just never wanted to admit we were alike. But why not release yourself from the pain?”

  “Where is Lila?” His voice was a frigid wind.

  I shivered, trying to keep an easy smile on my face. “Lila. Always Lila. If I could feel anything, I might be jealous. Good thing she’s gone now.” Clenching my jaw, I stepped closer to him. His arms were bound by chains. He was mortal, and he couldn’t hurt me. Breathing in his scent, I nestled in closer. He real
ly did smell amazing. I kissed his throat and watched him shudder. I was in control here.

  “Lila’s gone. Dead, Samael. Maybe you’ll see her in the afterlife. Wouldn’t that be sweet?”

  An intense pulse of power rippled off him, vibrating through my bones.

  When I stepped back, I saw something change in his eyes completely—something I hadn’t seen since the last time I defeated him—what he’d been like after his fall. It was that complete lack of mercy, a remorselessness. I’d broken Samael, and I wasn’t sure he was ever coming back.

  The reaper was here.

  I knew better than anyone that once you turned things off, there was no going back. Why feel pain when you didn’t have to? Why let yourself be tormented by feelings if you could go into a world without them? There was no heaven but glorious numbness.

  I felt something again, looking at him. This time, it was fear gripping my heart. Even now, even under the numbness, he scared me a little.

  I pressed the knife against his chest again, but one of Lila’s memories started to take root in my mind: Samael was putting a blanket over the sloppy, slumped body of a drunk woman in a priory. He didn’t want her to be cold.

  My hand was trembling hard. Shaking so I couldn’t hold the knife anymore. Bloody hell … Lila was doing this, and she was stronger than I’d imagined. I was losing control now; my thoughts were flooded with an image of Samael kissing me …

  And then I felt her break through the ice, forcing me down beneath the surface again.

  35

  Lila

  All at once, the emotions came roaring back into my body like a tsunami. The fear, the sadness—my heart breaking. Samael wouldn’t last long unless I got him out of here. I had to get him to safety.

  But it wasn’t just emotions overwhelming me. My senses seemed sharper and brighter than ever, the moonlight like shards of silver streaming through the dark sky. I could hear every breath, every heartbeat of each living creature around me. Life seemed to have a seductive rhythm to it, pulsing through the air.