“The venom is out, Rosalind,” said Caine. “But it will take you three days to recover.”
“Three days until I can take on a legion of fire demons again,” said Rosalind. “Let’s hope no one else attacks between now and then.”
“We’ll handle it,” said Caine.
Rosalind licked her dry lips. “Not without me, you won’t. You need me now.”
Malphas frowned at her. “I think I liked you better when you were incompetent.” He turned, heading for the door. “I’m going to change out of these clothes. Caine, while I’m gone, please do your best to contain Rosalind’s ego.” He closed the door behind them.
Caine’s silvery gaze met hers. “You’re not wrong, though. You could be more powerful than we are. As long as you don’t let the gods take over and try to murder me.” He traced his thumb over his bottom lip. “Though if I am going to die someday, I might as well go at the hands of a beautiful woman.”
“And if I’m not going to gain control, I need to give a little control, right?”
He lifted Rosalind’s hand and curled it into a fist. Slowly, he brought their two fists together. “If a strong force meets another without yielding, both will break. Bend to the gods’ will, just a little, and you can mold their power.”
“Is that what you do with shadow magic?”
“I can’t ever totally give in to Nyxobas. His spirit runs too deeply in my blood. But you’re different. You’re human. You can set yourself free, and create like the gods. Just not until you go a few hours without puking over the side of the bed.”
A small smile curled her lips. Already, she could feel her eyes drifting closed again, her mind claimed by dreams of the seagrass by Athanor Pond and the waves gently lapping at the shore.
Chapter 19
Rosalind leaned over the balcony, staring at the fields of bluebells that blanketed the ground, bathed in moonlight. Lilu cut lazy circles in the sky, the moonlight glinting off her wings. The snow had melted, and whether through magic or sheer persistence, Lilinor’s wildflowers had survived the cold snap she’d created.
A briny breeze kissed her skin, rustling through the tall grasses below her window. Even now, a dull pain throbbed in her thighs—the remnants of the poison—but she’d made a nearly complete recovery.
Caine stepped onto the balcony, his gaze raking slowly over her body. “You look like you’re feeling better.”
“I’m getting there. Tell me I missed some good news while I was unconscious.”
“You did.”
“Care to share?” she asked.
“We’ve managed to kill a few hundred of the Brotherhood’s soldiers—humans and demons. I’ve been sending vampires through the shields at night, and they’ve been luring the hunters out of the gated empire with reports of demon and witch sightings in the suburbs. The vampires have been attacking from the shadows, and returning back through the portal before the sun rises.”
“Very clever.”
He frowned. “But we won’t be able to use the same tactics forever. Even the Hunters will catch on eventually.”
“And what about Bileth?” Rosalind bit her lip. “How do you plan to kill him, if he’s immortal? I rammed a poker through his chest and it barely even slowed him down.”
“Like I told you, there is one way, but I’m the only one among us who knows how. Even Ambrose doesn’t know.”
“And you still don’t care to share?”
He stared into the streams of moonlight. “It’s forbidden for this knowledge to be shared. You can imagine why. Immortals don’t exactly want this secret getting out. It makes us vulnerable.”
The wind rippled over her skin, raising goosebumps. When she shifted closer to Caine, she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. “If we manage to kill Bileth, what will Nyxobas do?”
Caine’s gleaming aura slashed the air around him. “He cherishes strength above all else. There’s a chance he’d be proud.” He gazed at the moon. “Besides. I can’t have Bileth working with the Brotherhood. They’ll learn all our weaknesses, if they haven’t already.”
“Weaknesses? I thought you didn’t have any?”
“Not me, of course.” He shrugged. “The vampires. Shadowy bastards catch on fire all too easily.”
She leaned against the balcony ledge. “I may have a little way around that. I’m not sure Ambrose is keen on it, but I think it’s our best bet.”
“What?”
“We forget about the daywalker spell from centuries ago. And we try something new. We try converting vampires into different types of demons.”
Caine arched an eyebrow. “I’m not sure the vampires would go for that.”
“They’d be able to walk in the daylight. They wouldn’t have to drink blood anymore. What’s not to love?”
“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but vampires like drinking blood and being creatures of the night.”
“So persuade them. You’re their general. They look up to you. Anyway, I’m sure they can keep drinking blood if they want. The point is, you’ll have an army who can march in the daylight. They can remain shadow demons if they’re so fond of Nyxobas. Oneiroi, or keres, or—you know more shadow demon types than I do.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, looking unimpressed. “I’ll take your opinion into consideration.”
“You just don’t like it because I thought of it and you’re supposed to be a leader.”
He shot her a hard glare. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Tell me again how I’m stronger than you are.”
“That’s not even remotely accurate.”
She cocked her head. “Mmmm. I think I heard you say that I’m more powerful than you.”
“You have the potential—with magic only. I still have several centuries of fighting experience over you.”
She narrowed her eyes, widening her stance. “All right, old man. Prove it.”
He never took his hands from his pockets. “You can’t be serious.”
She smiled wickedly. “Are you afraid of getting hurt?”
His aura whipped around his body. “I’m afraid you’ll get hurt.”
She kicked him, aiming for his shoulder. He blocked it with his arm. Shifting her stance, she kicked again, this time hitting him in the chest, hard enough that she knocked him back a foot.
He smiled slyly. “Any excuse to touch me.”
When he stepped closer, she lunged, hooking her foot around his ankle. She pulled his leg toward her, knocking him off balance—but only for a moment.
Quickly, he righted himself, then hooked his leg behind hers, giving her a shove. She fell to the ground, and in the next moment, he was on top of her, his body covering hers. His silver aura caressed her skin, distracting her.
Okay, perhaps it had been an excuse to get her hands on him. Caine slid his hands up her arms, sending a shiver of pleasure through her body. She bent her knee, sliding it up his leg, arching her back. Slowly, Caine lowered his mouth to her neck, his teeth grazing her throat. Molten heat warmed her core, and she tilted back her head.
Caine’s knee pressed between her legs, his fingers laced through hers. “Do you still believe you’re more powerful than I am? It seems I have the upper hand.”
With a smile, she lifted her hips, flipping him off her. She slid a leg over him, straddling him, gripping his hands. His silver eyes flashed, and she breathed in his rich, loamy scent. Electricity rushed over her skin.
She leaned in to kiss him, her lips crushing against his. And when her tongue brushed against his, the earth seemed to rumble…
No—the earth was rumbling. Stone dust was shaking from the walls.
Caine’s body tensed, and she turned, looking through the stone columns of the balcony. There, in the fields, oak leaves trembled as heavy footfalls boomed over the fields. A bell began to toll from one of Ninlil Forest’s towers, signaling an oncoming attack. Rosalind rose, staring at the shaking forest.
In a blur of silver, Caine rus
hed into the bedroom.
She glanced up at the magical shield, reassured by the thick, pewter sheen rippling over the sky. “The shield is in place.” Boom.
Caine returned from the bedroom, strapping his sword and scabbard around his back.
Boom.
“The shield is in place now,” he said. “But perhaps something came through when the ifrit arrived. It’s a large kingdom, most of it wilderness. We wouldn’t have noticed monsters lurking far outside the city.”
Boom.
She gripped the edge of the balcony. There, in the distance over the oak trees, copper magic curled over the treetops. Boom.
And as it moved closer, she saw what was coming for them. Rustling through the oak forest, copper wings breached the forest canopy—fine-boned, their tips so thin that moonlight shone through them.
“Something is coming for us.” Her breath left her lungs. “A giant with copper wings.”
As the creature moved, it seemed to wilt every tree in its path, turning the leaves black, the branches withering. The reek of carrion wafted through the air.
“Copper wings, and it kills all the living creatures in its path,” he said, his jaw tight. “A creature that hasn’t walked the earth for thousands of years. Another of Erish’s creations from the old world that she knew, tens of thousands of years ago.”
“What is it?” asked Rosalind.
“The Asag.” Caine turned to her. “He won’t be alone. Turn away. Just the sight of him will stop your heart. Even if you’re immortal, one look at him will turn you to stone.”
“Copper magic,” she said. “Borgerith’s magic. You forget, Caine. The mountain goddess is inside me. Her magic won’t hurt me.”
“I hope you’re sure, because the vampires won’t defeat him. Only the gods-magic will vanquish a monster like this.”
Chapter 20
A half mile away, the creature breached the forest’s edge, and Rosalind’s breath left her lungs.
The monster that emerged on gnarled limbs curdled her mind. He must have been a hundred feet tall. Scars marked every inch of his naked skin, and sharp teeth glinted in the moonlight. And he wasn’t alone—a small army of rock demons swarmed around his knees—creatures that seemed to be made of gray bone, their eyes a milky white.
But it was the giant’s enormous eyes, gleaming in the moonlight, that stopped her heart. Not just two eyes, but dozens. Images flitted across them, and even from this distance she could make them out—nightmarish visions of brutal violence, of humans slaughtering, raping, torturing each other.
“Careful, Rosalind,” Caine touched her cheek, pulling her gaze from the monster. “Don’t look into its eyes. I don’t care if Borgerith is in you. You’ll get lost there.”
She shuddered. “I can see that. Are you ready to help me kill it?”
The Asag and his army were heading for the Eastern Wing—where Tammi and Aurora slept. She didn’t have any time to waste.
Against her will, her gaze turned again to the Asag, locking on his eyes. Deep within his dark irises, an image blazed—a woman burning at the stake, her blonde hair ablaze, her skin blistering… Cleo.
“Rosalind!” Caine shouted.
She snapped her gaze away, catching her breath. Okay. Even with the power of Borgerith flowing through her veins, the Asag would drive her insane. She understood that now.
Caine’s icy aura snapped from his body, and his black wings sprouted from his back, unfolding behind him. “I’m going to lead the vampires from below against the rock demons. I need you and Malphas to fight the Asag. Okay? But you need to fight him without looking into his eyes.”
“Any idea what his weakness is?”
Caine shook his head. “His skin is hard as rock, and swords will do nothing to him. I can kill the rock demons by finding their livers. The Asag is impenetrable.”
“Magic it is.”
The army of rock demons marched onward, shaking the ground with their footfalls.
Below, vampires began pouring into the field, silver armor and swords glinting in the silvery light. They were waiting for Caine to lead them.
She let her eyes lift just enough that she could see the creature’s three gnarled, gray feet clawing into the ground, a hundred feet away. “I understand. Go get your soldiers. I’ve got the Asag.”
Caine climbed onto the balcony’s edge, crouching for a moment before leaping into the air, his aura frosting the air around him.
A moment later, he landed in the field, in the front line of the phalanx of vampire soldiers. Raising his sword, he shouted an order, leading the charge of vampires.
A movement overhead caught her attention, and she looked up at Malphas, soaring through the sky, his black wings beating the air, already heading for the Asag.
Rosalind closed her eyes, summoning the power of the mountain goddess, letting it whisper through her blood, mingling with the wrathful fury of the valkyrie. Power surged, and she leapt into the air, her body blazing with the ancient magic of the gods.
The night wind rushed over her skin as she took flight. High above the charging armies, she followed the trail of silver magic that Malphas had left behind him, trying to keep her gaze off the Asag’s eyes.
She caught sight of Malphas, circling above the giant, and tendrils of silver magic unfurled from his body, enclosing on the demon. She took care to look only at the creature’s feet.
Good. They could start by binding him with magic, until they could figure out a better strategy.
Below, vampire swords clashed against the rock demons. The demons were slamming the vampires with their powerful fists, trying to crush them. Rosalind blocked out the carnage of the battle below, focusing only on the feel of shadow magic welling in her chest.
As she soared around the Asag, binding him with magic, she resolved to give in to Nyxobas, just enough to keep him happy.
She inhaled deeply, letting her mind drift into the void as silver magic whirled from her body. The night god’s power rippled through her body, and icy magic curled around the demon’s wings.
The creature snarled, and Rosalind widened her arc, flying out of reach. The night wind whipped at her hair, and she looked at the ground, catching sight of Aurora, driving her sword into a rock demon’s liver.
She swooped again in another wide arc, crossing paths with Malphas, and her heart tightened as her gaze strayed once again to the battle below. Tammi had joined the fight, inexpertly wielding a sword in the middle of the fight. Tottering, she swung the sword at a rock demon, and it bounced off his arm with a clink. Apparently, Tammi hadn’t been joking when she’d said she was learning to fight. She just hadn’t gotten very far with her training.
Whatever the case, Rosalind needed to end this now. There was no way Tammi would last more than ten minutes in a sword fight.
Rosalind swooped a little tighter around the Asag, directing her magic in silver spirals around its body, binding him tighter.
The beast threw back its head, shrieking. As if lured by a magnet, something pulled her gaze to the Asag’s eyes once again.
There, flickering in the depths of its many eyes, dozens of images of Caine—nailed to the wall, blood pouring from his wrists, clutching his hairpin. The giant’s magic invaded her mind, like a disease rotting her from the inside out.
With a roar, the Asag burst free from the tendrils of shadow magic, grasping for Rosalind. The monster tightened a long, taloned hand around her, the tips of his claws piercing the skin near her spine. Its breath reeked of rotting corpses.
And in the Asag’s eyes, she saw Caine, gripping that iron hairpin and ramming it into someone’s heart, over and over… The breath left her lungs.
Don’t look, Rosalind. She closed her eyes. If this bastard was made of rock, maybe she could melt him. But fire would probably do more damage to the vampires than to the rock demons.
So maybe I fight you with your own god.
She envisioned a stark, snowy mountain shimmering with copper magic. A
nd she opened herself to the power of Borgerith, letting the goddess’s power pulse through her veins. Borgerith had the power of magnetism, total control over rocks.
Rosalind felt herself directing the goddess’ magic into the Asag, as though she were becoming part of it, melding with it, letting herself dip into the dark abyss of its mind, where humans slaughtered and tortured each other in an orgy of violence.
As her magic melded with the Asag, an image blazed in her mind: Azazeyl, falling from the heavens, his perfect, godlike body splintering into seven pieces. Shrieks rent the air, the unrelenting agony of being fractured into pieces. Perhaps this was how Drew had gone mad.
And yet even as Rosalind’s mind split apart, the gods-magic invaded the Asag’s body, surging through its veins. Rosalind arched her back, trying to drown out the screaming of the gods as her magic penetrated every inch of the monster.
“Expand,” she breathed.
And with a terrifying boom, the demon exploded into a billion particles of dust.
Rosalind hurtled through the air, slamming against the earth, the air leaving her lungs, bones cracking. Pain ripped through her body, and dust rained down on her. Coughing, she rolled onto her stomach. With the fall, her teeth had pierced her tongue. Blood poured from her mouth, staining her shirt. In the depths of her mind, the gods’ screaming subsided.
Yet still, her mind felt nearly as fragmented as her body. The seven fallen gods screamed in the hollows of her skull, lamenting their fall from grace, the last time they’d felt whole.
Slowly, she pushed up onto her knees, rubbing the dust from her eyes. Her bones felt like they’d broken in ten places. They probably had.
She surveyed the scene around her, finding it still. As soon as she’d destroyed the Asag, the rock demons had fallen to the ground, lifeless.
She blinked, trying to clear her mind of the pain that ripped through her body.
In the next moment, Caine was by her side, his aura washing over her skin, snaking around her limbs. Gently, he touched her back, his touch soothing. As his aura kissed her skin, whispering through her bones, the pain ebbed from her body.
Divine Hunter (The Vampire's Mage Series Book 4) Page 13
