by S. W. Clarke
Trust him my ass.
“Coward,” I spat. “GoneGodDamn coward.”
↔
Lust turned in the direction Valdis had disappeared. “The vampire has fled. I would say I am surprised”—that smug, self-satisfied tone had re-entered her voice—“but that would be a lie.”
“Keep your eyes on me, you busted broad,” I called out, retrieving Thelma and Louise from my belt. I let their crackers hit the grass at either side. “I’m the one who’s going to end you.”
She took her time returning her attention to me. It was a slow, languorous look she cast over her shoulder. A half-smile dimpled her cheek. “End me, you say?”
“Sounds like your hearing’s intact.”
She gazed at me from under long lashes. “My angels will swick your head from your pretty neck in less time than it takes for me to blink.”
From beside the flaming shrubberies, Percy let out a low, unnerving growl. That was the kind of noise a savannah cat made before it attacked.
It was the kind of noise you didn’t ignore.
Lust’s eyes shifted to Percy, then back to me. I saw anger flash in them—and a second later, she masked it with that same dimpled smile. Her chest rose as she took a long, deep breath. This time, she kept the threats at bay. “Do you know, Patience Schweinsteiger, how very much delicious desire you have given me? Your very presence palpates with it.” She paused. “I would almost keep you as a pet.”
My eyes narrowed until her face was the only thing I saw. “Except that I’d kill you in your sleep?”
She gave a delighted little chuckle. “That is the very reason why I would keep you as my pet, Patience.”
My heart caught in an overlong beat, then galloped onward. This was why Lust was my nemesis—she twisted my anger around her finger like a leash. The more I hated her, the more she loved me.
Or maybe it had more to do with Percy’s growl than anything.
It was when she threatened me, I thought. Her power over him depends on keeping her hands off me.
“In fact,” she said, tilting her head, “you may accompany us, if you wish.”
I swallowed. “Us?”
“Yes, Patience.” Her hands went out to encompass the angels, Seleema, Percy and all the Others and humans gathered on the driveway and the grass. “Us.”
Without my consent, my eyes tracked straight to Percy.
He shivered, curled up tight and low to the ground, his tail wrapped around him. He still looked confused. Terrified. Lust hadn’t regained power over him yet.
But she would. It was only a matter of time …
And I could go with him. I could be by his side.
But in exchange for being with Percy, I would have to give up everything. My free will. Any pretenses I had left about being a good person.
“Tara,” Erik said, picking himself up off the grass. “You know it’s a deal with the devil.”
I was about to shoot back that he didn’t need to bother with convincing me. But then I realized: I had gone silent when Lust had made her offer. I hadn’t immediately rejected her.
Which meant I was considering it. Even if it had only been a few seconds, the prospect had entered my brain and begun to incubate.
I stood there a second longer, tweaking my hand over Thelma’s grip. Thelma—the whip named after my sister.
My sister who had died because of me.
I kept staring at Percy, still huddled there. Alone. Afraid.
I had promised to protect him. I had promised to always be there for him.
Was I keeping my promise if I allowed us both to fall under Lust’s spell, to become her witless followers?
No, a small voice returned. You’re only being selfish.
Protecting Percy didn’t mean standing beside him every moment of every day. If I was going to keep my promise, I had to do what was right by him. I had to preserve his free will, help him grow strong and confident.
I had to be the version of me who chose well, even if my choices hurt me.
That’s not a Tara you’ve ever been, that small voice said.
And that small voice was right. I hated it, but it was right.
Time to step up to the plate, Tara Drake.
The hand holding Thelma tightened, whipped into the air with unconscious grace. Her cracker snapped the air, breaking the night’s quietude for at least a mile.
I might lose him here, but I wouldn’t lose him forever.
“I don’t think you heard me, bitch,” I growled at Lust. “I told you to keep your eyes on me. I will be your end. I swear it.”
To my credit, I actually surprised her. Her eyes followed my gaze to Percy, then returned to me. One eyebrow rose into a high arc, and her smile might have faltered for a micro-second before deepening. “I see,” she murmured. “The dragon makes you noble. In that case, I will give you a moment with him before we depart.”
“Depart?” I barked, starting forward across the grass. Even as I did, Lust beckoned the two angels to her side. Her feet were already moving her toward the doorway. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Had you been fighting for my hand, I might have allowed this to play out longer,” Lust was saying as the two angels fell into step behind her. She didn’t seem to be moving in any hurry, and yet I didn’t seem to be able to catch up to her. “But the reality is I have things to do.”
I fell into a run, my boots clapping across the asphalt. I snapped Thelma once more, but it had no effect. Lust pooled up toward the open doorway, her head shimmering under the lamplight as she moved away.
“Stop!” I called, my stage voice slipping away into desperation. “Come back and face me.”
She didn’t answer. I knew she was going to get Ariadne.
I stopped at the base of the steps, breathing hard.
Percy was right there, not ten feet away. He hadn’t moved.
I spun, staring into his golden eyes. “Perce.”
He gazed up at me with terror. “Tara?”
He was still himself. Her spell hadn’t yet taken him over. We could ride away right now. I could just hop on his back and we could leave this place to our nightmares.
I started toward him. Before I had gotten three steps, a hand grabbed my braid. My head jerked back as I cried out like an angry, feral creature.
Behind me, a sweet voice said, “Lust does not wish for you to ride her dragon.”
My mouth opened, all my anger dampened by my shock. When I turned my head, I found Seleema staring back at me, my hair still in her grip.
Chapter 20
“Seleema, let go of me,” I ground out, tugging against her grip. Bad idea; that only hurt my scalp. “Hair pulling’s against girl code!”
She gazed at me with the kind of unseeing eyes you’d encounter on a sleep-walker. She didn’t move an inch, and she didn’t respond, either.
I flicked Thelma back, preparing to snap her up and crack her behind me. In the same moment, I heard another familiar voice.
“Let her go, Seleema,” Erik growled, his footsteps soft through the grass. A second later his good hand fell on Seleema’s arm. “It’s Lust’s spell making you—”
Seleema’s leg lifted in one perfect, smooth motion, and her booted foot jerked out at Erik. When it connected, I knew exactly where she’d aimed. He was injured, and he wasn’t quick enough right now to react.
I spun around just as he dropped away from Seleema’s kick; he just barely managed to avoid the fury of her foot against his injured arm. I reached the end of my braid again and was yanked back by Seleema’s unrelenting grip.
“Erik,” I said, still struggling against Seleema’s grip, “you need to find a way to stop Lust. She’s after Ariadne.”
He and I met eyes. Valdis’s words echoed through my head like a herald proclaiming everyone’s death—
If Lust got Ariadne, it would mean the end of everything.
“You will not enter the house,” Seleema said to him. In my periphery, I could tell
her focus had shifted from me to Erik.
I took the moment to snap Thelma over my shoulder. I cringed as I heard—and felt—it make contact with Seleema’s arm. Sorry, Seleema. Maybe next time you won’t pull a gal’s hair.
She let out a guttural noise. As she did, something thumped me in the back. I was thrust to my knees in the grass, the pain ricocheting up my spine. That had been Seleema’s foot on my back.
“Go, Erik!” I yelled out.
He didn’t answer. I only heard him move off through the grass and toward the driveway.
“Stop,” Seleema called out, her voice commanding and strangely impassive. Finally, finally, she let go of my braid, and I was free. “You will not impede Lust.”
I slumped to my hands, the whips hitting the grass as I closed my eyes through the pain. GoneGodDamn, that houri could be a pro-soccer player.
“Tara?” Percy’s small voice murmured, and every part of me instantly focused on him—my eyes, ears, my hands. All reached out toward the adolescent dragon who’d been witness to more violence than he ever ought to have.
Seleema’s roughness with me had torn him out from under Lust’s spell. She had given me a few moments with him.
“It’s OK,” I said automatically—the kind of lie only a parent can manage to say to their child without it sounding completely false. My eyes found his. “I’m here.”
At least the last part wasn’t a lie. I was there, and would be there for him every moment I was able.
I scooted toward him on the grass, lifting my shaking hands out to cup the dragon’s jaw. Behind me, I could hear the sounds of a scuffle, and I knew Erik was being stopped by Lust’s minions.
I knew he wasn’t in any shape to get into that house and stop her from taking Ariadne.
And I knew I only had a little time left.
“Perce,” I said, breathless. “I need to tell you something.”
“It’s strange, Tara,” he said. “Everything’s all foggy. I feel like I can’t think straight.”
Tears hit my eyes, and for the first time in years, I didn’t try to hide them. I knew Lust’s magic was slowly working its way back into him; I could see it in the way he looked at me.
“Listen to me, Percy,” I said, enunciating each word. “We’re going to be separated for a time. Just a little while. But I want you to know: I’ll be coming for you. Remember that. I’ll always find you, no matter where you get to.”
His eyes had become unfocused, and they drifted past me. Now they returned to me as he fought for clarity. “How?”
I scooted closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Because I’ll upturn every rock and break through every cloud for you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Perce. Nothing.”
The dragon breathed slowly in my embrace, his head pressing lightly against my shoulder and back. Beneath his scales, deep in his chest, I could hear the thrum of his heart.
It sounded like the pulse of an unborn child.
Soft footsteps sounded across the grass. “Ah,” purred a voice from behind me. “My noble dragon awaits his riders.”
My body tensed, and I gripped Percy harder than I ought to have. I gripped him like my strength could keep us from being separated.
A hand fell on my shoulder, sending a near-orgasmic thrill through my nerves. My blood began to pump as I leaned back and shifted my eyes up.
There she stood above me. Lust, with Ariadne’s hand held in hers.
↔
Above me, Ariadne’s fingers sat lightly in Lust’s hand. That wasn’t the hard grip Seleema had used on me; it was soft, almost tender, a woman leading her beloved from one place to another.
The two angels flanked Lust and Ariadne, their swords drawn and low to the ground as though they would cleave anyone in two who stepped within her radius.
My chest swelled with Mariana’s love for her child. I could feel it just as well as my own love for Percy, so potent and full of longing I thought my ribcage might burst. And all at once, rescuing Ariadne felt as important to me as anything in the world.
She’s got her.
She’s got her, and now I’m the only one left standing in her way.
Erik was injured, Seleema and Percy were under Lust’s spell and Valdis had fled the scene.
I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the pain in my back. I still had Thelma and Louise. I still stood between Lust and Percy.
I could put up a wall of leather and fury.
I’d expected Ariadne’s eyes to be fixed on Lust. But she wasn’t staring at the sin with the beatific adoration I’d seen her other followers wearing. Instead, Ariadne gazed ahead, out over the Texas landscape to somewhere far in the distance, her eyes constellations in the semidarkness.
She wasn’t under Lust’s spell. Why?
“Because her soul is severed,” came the answer in my mind. “Lust has no power over her, because Ariadne has no desires to manipulate.”
It was Mariana speaking inside me.
A reckless hope filled me. She might have a plan. A way out of this.
“What do I do?” I said to Mariana. “She’s going to take Percy. She’s taking Ariadne. Tell me what to do, because I’m about to whip her head from her shoulders.”
Silence. Then, soft and mournful, “You step aside.”
“What? No. I don’t step aside—that’s not who I am. That’s not what I do. That’s my dragon.”
“And that’s my daughter,” Mariana shot back. “But I will not allow you to sacrifice us both now when we may have our chance to rescue them later. And mark my words: you will lose to her. This battle is over, Patience. We must find another way.”
Wild anger surged in my chest. “Some kind of mother you are,” I spat. “Your vampire ran away, and now you’re letting her take your child.”
Mariana’s face—my face—appeared in my mind’s eye. She stared at me with a solemn mouth, but her eyes swam with fury. “Your recklessness is no virtue. I will live to save Ariadne, even if it means forcing you out of your own body.”
A stopper filled my throat. “You can’t.”
She stared at me, her mouth a straight line. I could see it in her eyes: she wasn’t bluffing.
She had that power. She could overwhelm me, consume me.
But I didn’t care.
If I didn’t fight for Percy right now, I’d never forgive myself. I’d be betraying every fiber of my body.
“If you will not join me,” Lust purred at me, “then step aside, my dear.”
“Step aside,” Mariana repeated in my head.
“Don’t fight her,” Erik called out from behind the angels, his voice laced with pain. “Let her go, Tara.”
Seleema stepped into view, her eyes hard. “Must I move the human?”
“No,” Lust whispered, her lidded gaze unwavering on me. “She will move. I will be with you soon, Percival.”
Behind me, Percy let out a low rumble. I didn’t need to look back to know that he was under her spell again.
Mariana was probably right. This fight was lost. I needed to be strategic. I needed to be patient. Oh, the irony of my parents thinking to name me after the one virtue furthest from who I was.
I wasn’t patient. I never had been.
I was a creature of the moment, of impulse and will and desire. And maybe the situation called for holding my tongue and my whips, but I couldn’t make myself be anyone but me.
So I didn’t move. I refused to.
With a scream, I made to flick Thelma straight up and across Lust’s marvelous face. With one jerk of the wrist, I would split her eye like a grape—
My body froze.
I couldn’t move, just like that time in Frank and Seleema’s living room.
My hand quivered at my side, the whip giving only the slightest jerk before dropping back to the ground.
Mariana. She was controlling me.
“Let me go,” I ground out in my head.
“God damn you,” Mariana growled at me. “I tol
d you what would happen.”
Lust had seen it all; her eyes had followed the course of my wrist, the sudden catch. Now she jerked her face up to mine with delight, her eyes luminous. “Oh, a battle of desires in the soul! How delicious. Two occupy one body. Two wish to be in control. Two desire to face me. Who shall win?”
I remained standing in place for a few moments, my hands shaking as I tried to regain control of my body. But it was no use; Mariana occupied me like a gale-force wind, buffeting me deep and deeper inside my head until my body wasn’t my own to control.
Without my consent, my hands opened wide and I dropped both whips. They hit the ground in an inglorious thump, and I took one step to the side, then another.
Lust’s eyes followed me, dancing with mirth. “I see the strategist inside you has won. You have made a wise choice, Mariana.”
She winked, stepping forward with Ariadne at her side like a royal. The two of them passed me, and only my eyes followed as they entered my periphery. Then they were behind me, and I couldn’t see them at all because Mariana wouldn’t allow me to move.
But it wasn’t Lust and Ariadne I wanted to see. Not really.
“Fight for her,” I said to her—not begging. Not quite yet. “She’s your daughter. Why won’t you GoneGodDamn fight for her?”
In a moment of small grace, Mariana did turn us around. I glimpsed Percy lowering to his haunches to allow Lust to slide effortlessly onto his back. She gestured for Ariadne to sit in front of her, and the young woman did so without resistance.
Soon, Lust’s hands were caging Ariadne’s body as she gripped the spine at Percy’s withers. The same spine I’d set my hands around so many times I couldn’t even number them.
I felt tears rising, and I wasn’t sure whether they were mine or Mariana’s. Emotion squeezed my chest, tightening my lungs.
“Lust,” Mariana called out. “I would ask you one question.”
Lust’s face turned toward us, her eyes piercing. “What is it?”
