Corroded

by Becca Andre

  In a futile effort to stop him, she tried to catch his arm, but he captured her left wrist and pinned it to the floor beside her ear. Before she saw what he intended, he drove the knife through her palm and into the floor.

  She screamed again.

  “Keep the other hand still, or I’ll do it, too.” He winked and pulled a second knife from his belt.

  He paused a moment to look her over, then licked his lips. “Your blood is so red,” he whispered, dragging a finger along the raw wound down her sternum.

  She gritted her teeth against the pain.

  “Much redder than human blood.” He lifted the finger to show her, then slipped it into his mouth.

  Briar flashed back to Kali taking the droplet of blood from her finger—God, was that only this morning?

  Owens groaned and closed his eyes.

  What a shame she couldn’t command him as she had Perseus.

  Or could she? Would it work on the soulless? But Perseus had given her an oath. Could she get Owens to say something that would leave him vulnerable?

  “And the taste…” He opened his eyes, exposing his enlarged pupils.

  “That’s the power,” she whispered. “Ferra power.”

  “Yeah?” His attention returned to her chest, and before she could come up with a response, he ran the blade along the same wound. “This is what the ferra do, right? Make an incision over the heart?”

  She whimpered as the knife moved slowly through her flesh. Fisting her free hand, she struggled to keep it still, not doubting for a moment that he would impale it, too.

  He finally took the blade from her skin and lifted it to the light to examine the blood-stained surface.

  “What does this ferra-blood power do?” he asked, staring at the blade like another man might study his lover.

  Think, Briar, think, she told herself, trying to focus through the burning pain.

  “It’s the power of my soul,” she answered.

  “Soul fire?”

  Why not? “Unharnessed soul fire. You’re taking it from me.”

  His gaze left the knife, and his eyes locked with hers. “What does that do?”

  She took a gamble and pressed her lips together as if refusing to answer.

  He reached up and gripped the handle of the knife pinning her left hand and twisted it.

  She cried out despite her effort not to.

  “Tell me,” he commanded. He stopped twisting the knife, though he didn’t take his hand from it.

  Briar struggled to focus on her lie. “It will make me… yours,” she panted. “I would have to fulfill your every whim and command.”

  He frowned. “Just by tasting your blood? You lie.” He twisted the knife again.

  “No.” Her gasp ended on a whimper. “More to it.”

  His hand stilled on the knife. “Go on.”

  “You must open your soul to mine. Let me in, then make me yours.”

  “How?”

  She hesitated again, knowing full well he would hurt her, but if he was to believe her, he must think that he had forced the information from her.

  He twisted the knife, and she screamed.

  “Tell me,” he panted the words in his eagerness—or perhaps just his excitement from giving her pain.

  “Taste my blood, welcome my soul within yours, let them join.”

  He smiled. “And your soul will be submissive to mine, just as you are physically mine as well.” He groaned and had to stop and visibly collect himself. “I knew you would be amazing, but this…” He shook his head.

  She held her tongue. Come on, you sick bastard. Take my blood and let me in.

  As if he was already obeying her, he lifted the blood-slicked knife to his mouth and licked the flat of the blade.

  “My soul welcomes yours, Briar,” he said, his voice soft. “Join your soul to mine.”

  Briar felt nothing, but then, she had felt nothing with Kali or Perseus. And it had definitely worked with Perseus.

  “Is that it?” Owens asked. “How do I know it worked?”

  She took a deep breath and threw every ounce of her will into her words. “Tell me the address of this place, Mr. Owens.”

  “Don’t know the address. It’s an abandoned house on the corner of Third Street and Market in Newark.” He snapped his mouth closed, and his eyes went wide.

  Grayson, I know where I am. She felt his frantic touch in response and quickly relayed the information as Owen’s look of shock turned to fury.

  She smiled. “Yes, it worked.” She took a breath to command him to get off her, but he seized her throat before she could speak. She tried a mental command, but he lifted her head and slammed it down before she could focus. Her head hit so hard, the edges of her vision blurred.

  Grayson! she shouted, then screamed as Owens knife bit again. Did he really intend to take out her heart?

  Dropping all her barriers, she shared her full horror with Grayson, spurring him to action. But what if Grayson was still miles away? Would he arrive in time or would he only find her mutilated corpse?

  She tried to form the words to command Owens to stop, but she couldn’t seem to fight through the haze to figure out how to make that happen.

  He lifted the knife from her skin, and she had a moment of clarity. “Release—” she began.

  “No!” He lifted the blood-slicked knife for another slice when an explosion rocked the room. Sunlight suddenly bathed them as if someone had thrown open a curtain.

  Owens sprang to his feet and spun away from her.

  Relieved of his weight, Briar rolled onto her side, toward her impaled hand and lifted her head.

  Darkness haloed her vision with the movement, but a few blinks cleared that.

  A hole had been ripped through the wall, exposing the room to the outside world.

  Grayson crouched just inside the hole. Dust from the destroyed wall covered his bare chest, but didn’t dull the silver of his spread wings. A pause, and he rose to his feet, his wings folding behind his back.

  His eyes met Briar’s, his blue-gray irises stretching from lid to lid. He was no longer Grayson. He was the ferromancer. Then his gaze moved to Owens.

  Briar reached up and gripped the handle of the knife that impaled her hand. She had to stop Grayson. She had no problem with him ending this twisted monster, but destroying the soulless turned Grayson cold. With the ferromancer already on full display, she didn’t know what that would do to him.

  “Grayson, don’t.” She threw her will into the command, just as she had the other time she’d stopped him.

  He didn’t even glance at her.

  Grayson? She reached out to him—and felt nothing at all.

  Chapter 20

  Briar tugged at the knife that held her hand to the floor. Sobbing in pain, frustration, and fear, she continued to fight, but she couldn’t get the necessary leverage.

  Owens tried to make a run for the hole in the wall, but Grayson was on him in an instant, moving with a speed Briar had never seen him display.

  He seized Owens by the throat and in an eerie reenactment of Briar’s treatment by Owens earlier, slammed him against the wall.

  “No, you don’t understand,” Owens whined. “I was trying to free you from her control.”

  Grayson didn’t even blink.

  Tears blurring her vision, Briar tried to wiggle the knife free.

  “She’s controlling you,” Owens continued. “I’m trying to free you.”

  “Grayson,” she called to him, hoping to distract him. If he could just contain Owens, then Perseus could finish him. Dissolve his—

  Grayson raised the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Owens’s throat and spread his fingers. Sunlight glinted off the silver talons that had replaced his nails.

  “No,” Briar whispered. He was devol
ving so quickly. He really was changing before her eyes.

  Grayson pulled back his taloned hand, then thrust it into Owens’s midsection.

  Owens screamed.

  Briar sobbed, still tugging at the knife even as it sent bolts of pain up her arm and into her shoulder.

  The door slammed open with a reverberating boom, and Eli stumbled into the room, having clearly shouldered the door open. His eyes swept the room, doing little more than glance at Grayson and Owens before settling on her.

  “Miss Briar!” He rushed over to her and dropped to a knee.

  “Help me, Eli. Pull out the knife.”

  His eyes moved from the knife to the rest of her. A blush colored his cheeks at the same time fury constricted his features. “What’s that bastard done to you?” He averted his gaze, though it instantly locked on Owens who continued to scream.

  “Eli, please,” she fought to keep the sobs in check. “I’ve already lost Grayson. I don’t want to lose you, too.”

  That seemed to pull him back from the violence he was contemplating. “Lose me?”

  “To your rage,” Perseus answered from above them. She hadn’t seen him enter, but Eli was blocking her view of the door.

  Perseus knelt beside her. “I got it.” With one hand, he gripped the knife handle, and with the other, her wrist. “Deep breath.”

  Before she could obey, he jerked the knife out in one smooth move.

  The breath Briar had started to take became a gasp.

  “Easy,” Eli growled, though Perseus had been in no way rough.

  A thump sounded as Owens fell to the floor. He landed on his back, and if he still had the ability to move, he didn’t get a chance as Grayson landed on top of him.

  Grayson dug his clawed hands into Owens chest and with seemingly little effort, pulled open his rib cage.

  “Jesus,” Eli whispered, then quickly looked away.

  Briar’s stomach turned, but not due to the gore. She remembered well the discarded bodies Farran had left in his wake. The chests of the victims had been opened in a similar fashion.

  “Perseus, stop him,” she whispered. “I can’t get through to him. He’ll devolve—”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s too late.”

  A golden light was glowing from within Owens’s open chest, growing brighter as they watched.

  Briar closed her eyes, defeated on so many levels.

  “Miss Briar,” Eli whispered. “You’re bleeding. Everywhere.”

  She opened her eyes and saw that he was right. Oddly, she could no longer feel the pain from the wounds. Suddenly self-conscious, she struggled to pull her torn shirt closed over the injury. The notion gave her a flashback to the first time she had seen the scar down the center of Grayson’s chest, and how he’d tried to hide it.

  Eli helped her sit up and, choking on a sob, wrapped her in his large arms. “You need medical help, Miss Briar. I’ll take you to Miss Molly.”

  “Eli,” Perseus said, his uncertain tone held a note of warning. He got to his feet and his short sword left its scabbard with a hiss.

  Grayson stood a few feet away, watching them with those inhuman eyes. Owens’s eviscerated body lay on the floor behind him.

  “We’re trying to help her,” Perseus said, raising his empty hand, palm outward. “She needs to be taken back to the boat.”

  “I will heal her,” Grayson said in that cold inflectionless tone that reminded her so much of Farran. Too much of Farran.

  “That’s not a good idea right now,” Perseus moved to stay between her and Grayson.

  “Your argument makes no sense,” Grayson replied. “She needs assistance. I will heal her.”

  “You are not yourself.”

  “I have never been more myself.”

  Thumps sounded in the hall, and a moment later, Darby burst into the room. He skidded to a halt, and his eyes went wide.

  Briar had a strong suspicion that he hadn’t realized what was going on in here. Maybe he had gone to the outhouse and come back to find the door standing open.

  Darby jerked his revolver from its holster.

  Grayson lifted his hand, and the revolver was ripped from Darby’s grasp. It flew across the room and smacked against Grayson’s palm. He opened his hand, and the gun tumbled to the floor with a clatter.

  “Now look here,” Darby began. “I was only doing as told.”

  “Bullshit.” Eli released Briar and rose to his feet. “You’ve been in this for personal gain from the start.”

  “That ain’t—” Darby didn’t get to finish the statement. Grayson sprang across the space between them, and like he had with Owens, seized Darby around the throat.

  “Grayson, no.” Briar pushed herself to her feet, then almost returned to the floor as a wave of dizziness rolled over her.

  Eli caught her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to keep her upright.

  She leaned into him, grateful for the support, even though it made her feel weak. But with one hand useless, and the other holding her shirt closed, she couldn’t brace herself on a chair.

  “Grayson, let him go,” she tried again. She fully intended for Darby to pay for his crimes, but not at Grayson’s expense.

  Grayson didn’t respond, nor did he release Darby. He cocked his head, eyeing the whimpering man he held.

  “What are—” Briar’s question ended on a gasp as Grayson shoved his clawed hand into Darby’s stomach.

  Darby screamed.

  “Jesus,” Eli whispered.

  Perseus muttered something under his breath that wasn’t in English.

  Unable to move away without support, Briar pressed her face to Eli’s shirt. His large arms came around her once more, and he faced away from the gory sight.

  Unnerved by the silence, Briar turned her head, and with her cheek pressed to Eli’s wide chest, looked back to see what had become of Darby.

  Grayson had pushed him against the wall, much as he had Owens. Darby wasn’t fighting him. He stood unmoving, his head tipped back, a silver glow dancing in the depths of his open mouth.

  Briar frowned. Darby wasn’t soulless, so why—

  Another light drew her eye. The skin around the abundant metal in Grayson’s back glowed around the edges, and as she watched, it crawled over the exposed metal. It wasn’t a fast process, but moved at a steady pace until the glow faded.

  Briar blinked. The visible metal in Grayson’s back had reverted to the way it had been just after his final casting.

  Grayson pulled his hand from Darby’s abdomen, and let the man’s body fall to the floor. Though blood slicked both of Grayson’s hands and forearms, Briar could see that the talons were gone.

  Slowly, Grayson turned to face her, and his human eyes met hers. How had he overcome the ferromancer? She’d always had to play for him or command him to—

  Darby gasped and his eyes opened. Even from across the room, she could see that they were no longer light blue. They were iron gray. Grayson had absorbed his soul, or most of it. He had made Darby soulless. That’s what had brought Grayson back.

  Briar retched.

  “Miss Briar!” Eli turned her slightly, perhaps afraid she would vomit, but kept his arms tightly around her.

  “Briar?” Grayson was beside them. “Oh God.” He reached out to touch her face.

  She stared at his blood-covered hand and pulled away. “No. Don’t touch me.”

  “Briar, please,” he whispered. “Please let me—”

  “No!” She pressed closer to Eli and squeezed her eyes shut. It didn’t matter. In her mind, she could still see Darby’s gray eyes. Her stomach clenched.

  “The lady said no, ferromancer,” Eli’s voice rumbled beneath her ear. “Respect her wishes, or you’re no better than that thing you denied me the honor of killing.”

  Briar choked
on a sob. Even if Owens had been soulless and technically dead, it still tore at her heart to hear Eli speak of killing with such longing.

  “She’s hurt,” Grayson whispered, his voice rough. “I can’t stand knowing—”

  “This ain’t about you,” Eli shot back. “She doesn’t want a monster like you near her. She’d rather suffer. Now back off and respect her wishes.”

  “He’s right,” Perseus spoke up, his tone cool. “And I am oath-bound to enforce her wishes. Let the matter go.”

  Perseus might have added something else, but Briar didn’t catch the words. She wasn’t certain if Perseus had whispered them, or if the darkness that was once again haloing her vision was winning.

  “I want to return to the boat,” she said to Eli. “Will you show me where it’s docked?”

  “Of course, Captain.”

  Something changed, and it took her a moment to realize that Eli had picked her up.

  “Don’t carry me, Eli. You know how I hate that.”

  “I know. Let me help you to the dock. I’ll set you down and you can walk on board by yourself.”

  “All right.” She was fairly certain they were already moving. Or maybe she wasn’t so certain. She hoped her head cleared once they reached the boat.

  Opening her eyes, she looked over his shoulder. Perseus still stood between them and Grayson, though Grayson didn’t look like he intended to follow. He stood with his head bowed, the blood that coated his forearms incredibly red in the bright sunlight shining through the hole in the wall. A short distance away, Darby climbed to his feet.

  “What would you have me do, Master?” Darby asked Grayson.

  Briar let her head fall to Eli’s shoulder and the darkness claimed her.

  Briar blinked her eyes, staring up at the countless stars, visible between the trees that crowded the canal to either side. She lay on her back on the aft deck, though she didn’t remember how she got there.

  “Lovely, aren’t they?” a female voice asked. It wasn’t Molly. This woman had a Scottish accent.

  “Yes,” Briar agreed, her eyes still on the stars. “But they’re so vast. They make me feel small and insignificant.”