Hidden Blade (The Soul Eater Book 1)

by Pippa Dacosta

  “Just a dream.” I didn’t like the way my voice trembled. Didn’t like it at all.

  Rubbing my hands over my face, I tried to sweep the dregs of the dream away, but they clung on like the whispers of the damned. Around and around the images spun, conjuring the taste and the feel of the goddess under me.

  I staggered to the kitchen, flicked on the light, and blinked back into harsh reality. Coffee. Lots of coffee. Vodka too. Both would chase the dream from my head.

  I searched the cupboards and found the empty vodka bottle. “Damn you, Shu.”

  A whisper of a warning tickled my neck and I spun around, lifting a hand to block—

  Isis plunged a dagger into my gut and punched it right up to the hilt, delivering a shock of cold.

  She caught my shoulder and pulled me into the blade, yanking me close. All I could see were the fine kohl lines outlining her brilliant eyes. Power pulled tight between us, mine and hers, but hers rose up like a mountain, filling the room, the apartment, the building, and folding in around me, making me small inside her embrace. She could crush me under the weight of it. The smallest of smiles in her eyes told me so. I was nothing to her, nothing but sand and dust.

  She twisted the blade. Fire surged up my insides or ripped them out; I couldn’t think around the pain to tell the difference. Her lips were on mine, her tongue sweeping in.

  Withdrawing, she whispered, “Bad monster,”

  I breathed her words down, feeling them harden like ice around my heart.

  “The girl is mine.”

  “Don’t…” I rasped.

  “Mm,” she purred, “aren’t you sweet.”

  She pulled the blade out and stepped back. Weakness rushed in. If it weren’t for the counter holding me up, I would have fallen.

  “Nameless One…you should know by now not to interfere.”

  I held her gaze and felt her slippery soul moving inside her. “Let her go.”

  I couldn’t help the compulsion; it came like a reflex, adding weight and intent to my words, but it washed right off her.

  “Oh, that would be nice, wouldn’t it?” She tapped the blade against her chin, leaving a smudge of blood—my blood—on her flawless skin. “But no. She’s the last girl.”

  She turned and glided barefooted into the lounge.

  I thrust out my left hand. “San!” Stop!

  Isis laughed. The power in that laugh whirled around me, squeezing me tight, until it was all I could do to stay standing. On and on her laughter wove.

  Chuck. I had to get to Chuck, whatever it took. Blood spilled between my fingers, slick and slippery. I fell forward, against the doorframe, smearing bloody handprints on the wall.

  “Isis, please.”

  “Oh beg, please do. It’s been so long.” All around her the air glittered as if she were a being of light, of good. It was a trap, that light.

  “Ace?” Chuck mumbled in a sleep-addled voice.

  The ice around my heart shattered. Isis snapped her head around and fixed her sights on the girl sitting up in my bed.

  “Run!”

  I lunged forward, throwing everything I had into getting between Isis and my daughter. Isis merely swept her hand to the side, and invisible hooks punched through my chest, snapping me sideways. A moment of weightlessness took hold and then glass shattered around me. New York’s din blared too loudly in my ears. A shock of cold hit me, and then my back slammed into the scaffolding guardrail. Without that, I’d have fallen fifteen floors.

  “Ace!” Chuck yelled.

  She didn’t stand a chance.

  “Wait. Isis. Stop.” I dragged strength from somewhere inside and struggled to my feet. “Anything. I’ll do anything. Don’t hurt her.”

  Half stumbling, half falling, I scrambled back through the broken window and dropped to my feet. Capable of more than darkness. I could do this. I would do this—to save the girl.

  “Ask anything of me.”

  Isis cocked her head. Her eternal eyes shone like jewels. “I did.”

  This wasn’t about me turning her down. It couldn’t be. “Something…there must be something. You wanna fuck? Fine, we’ll do it now. Keep me for however long you want. I don’t care.” I held out my blood-covered hand. “Please. Just let her go.”

  Isis tapped the dagger against her thigh, leaving spots of red on her flowing gown. “Such a tempting offer, but really, this isn’t about you. It’s none of your concern, Nameless One. I kill the girl. All ends well. It’s very simple. Look away if her death pains you so.”

  She took a step toward the bed, and Chuck scurried away, clutching the sheets against her like they might offer some protection. Her young, wide eyes swam with tears. She was brave, she was strong, but against Isis, that strength crumbled.

  “Why? She’s just a scared girl.”

  “The girl carries my husband’s son,” Isis snapped. “She must die.”

  “C’mon! This is Osiris. He fucks anything with a heartbeat.”

  “He is not supposed to impregnate them!”

  “So the women had to die because Osiris lost his load?!”

  Isis pointed the dagger tip at me and lined up her sights down the blade. “You do not stand in judgment over us!”

  Yes, focus on me. Get mad at me. I stepped back, nudging up against my desk. City sounds buzzed behind me, and the cold air chilled me to the bone, or perhaps that was the blood loss hollowing the life out of my body. “Isis, you are the Queen of all Things. This girl is nothing.”

  “I don’t want to kill her,” the goddess waved a hand, shooing my argument away. “I have to. It is written.”

  “What is?”

  “Thoth told me the son will sunder the king, my beloved. I do this for love, Nameless One. I wouldn’t expect a monster like you to understand.”

  By the gods, a prophecy? Of course it was a prophecy. Nothing else would move Isis to act like this. “You don’t need to believe the nonsense written by zealots. Thoth could be screwing with you—”

  “Thoth doesn’t lie.”

  That we were aware of. “My queen, you’re more powerful than some thousand-year-old prophecy. The mutterings of mad priests are beneath you.”

  My heart pounded, squeezing my every breath. Blood was running through my fingers and down my waist, cool and wet—as cold as the chill spreading through my body. My life, draining away like the seconds I had left.

  Isis’s smile crawled across her lips. “Why take the risk?”

  She moved in a blur of magic and mist.

  I wrenched Alysdair free from its hiding place, raised the sword, and launched forward.

  Isis sank her fingers into Chuck’s hair, pulling her upright. Chuck screamed. Her wide eyes sought me out, pleading with me to keep her safe. I’d told her I would, but she would never be safe from the gods.

  Isis pressed her blade against my daughter’s pale throat. A bright droplet of blood welled. But I was there, Alysdair slicing through the air, so close. In a blink, it would be done. The sword sang. The blade flared, hungry for the god’s neck and Isis’s soul—

  “Stop!” Osiris’s command slammed into my body, yanking me up short. I dropped, but his wife didn’t hesitate. She pulled the dagger across my daughter’s throat, parting flesh, spilling blood.

  The blade cut as cleanly as it had the last time I’d used it against another innocent’s throat not so long ago. So quietly, it opened Chuck’s throat, pouring forth streams of dark blood down her chest and silencing her scream.

  I strained against Osiris’s hold, the sword still buzzing, the power still lusting for Isis’s death. Harder and harder I pushed, until my thoughts swam in the madness and my body turned to fire, but the compulsion held. With every second, every silent, reaching gasp, my daughter’s chance of living her life died right before my eyes.

  Chapter 17

  Someone was screaming—a woman. The shriek sliced through the pain, piercing my soul. The power within broiled, and from it, a curse spilled from my lips. I�
�d curse them both and make them burn. With all the power of the underworld, with everything I controlled, I’d bury their souls.

  “Bae sra sudk, omd orr sros rok reqad. Bae sra kuir uk sruka I roqa cumkikad. Bae sra resrs, sra dord, Ikek, I cumdakm—”

  “Seramca!” Silence, Osiris boomed.

  His glare pierced me as sharply as Isis’s blade. The compulsion, and his power, thrust deep. I slumped over my knees. Silenced, perhaps until I died, which, given the amount of blood I’d lost, could be very soon. The terrible thudding sounded like a death knell and pounded throughout my body. With every beat, the numbness crept deeper into my bones.

  “Husband!” Isis gushed. “It is done. You are safe.”

  Osiris’s power shifted around him, flexing, pushing, and settling, but I wouldn’t look. I couldn’t.

  “What is this?” he asked, mildly intrigued.

  “She was the last girl. My gift to you, my beloved. Thoth warned me you’d been sowing seeds in fertile ground. From one such seed a boy would spring who would have ended your reign. Thoth never lies. I know you are busy with politics—with those stuffy men and their silly world—so I acted on your behalf. It is done.”

  I heard a sob and lifted my head. What was left of my heart broke as I watched Bast frantically trying to cover the gaping wound in our daughter’s throat. It occurred to me, somewhere distantly, where my thoughts had gathered to be alone, that Bast had gone to Osiris. She’d told the god everything, hoping to stop him, but Osiris hadn’t done this. We’d been wrong.

  “Isis, my light…” Osiris crooned. “My love. Once again, you save me. Every day you save me.”

  “Wa roqa orvoaek baam susasrar. Wa verr orvoaek ba susasrar.” she replied. We have always been together. We will always be together.

  Bast roared. The sound shuddered through the floor and beat the air. Something wild, ageless, and primal had joined us in the room. She whirled on the couple, her fingers stretching into claws.

  Isis flicked a hand. From the queen’s fingertips a blast struck Bast mid-leap, tossing her against the wall.

  Isis laughed. “Bad kitty.”

  I heard Osiris rain apologies down on Isis and the two gods declare their love like it was a glorious thing and not the twisted obsession that had killed a dozen innocent women. I might have fought, might have argued, but crippled with pain, chilled and suddenly so empty, I was done. I hit the floor, falling onto my side, and rolled my gaze toward the protection spellwork on the ceiling. I traced the design the way I always had. I was tired. It was time.

  “As entertaining as your death would be, I’m not finished with you.” Osiris’s warm hand settled on my abdomen. The other hand he placed over my eyes. Flesh spasmed, squeezing pain out of every cell. I’d have screamed if I’d still had my voice. He spoke old words, ancient words, words I didn’t understand, and then, too quickly or not soon enough, he let go.

  The god towered over me. His eyes narrowed and a displeased frown marred his timeless face. He looked at me as though puzzled, or perhaps surprised.

  I blinked, and he was gone—Isis too. The combined weight of their presence bled away until all I could hear and feel was the cool wind, which brought with it New York’s cacophony.

  Bast’s hands fluttered around my chest and came away glistening with blood. “Ace…oh, by Sekhmet. What were you thinking?” Her hands clasped my face, and she searched my eyes. A tear fell from her eye and tapped me on the cheek. “You stupid fool.”

  “Chuck…” I croaked. At least I had my voice back.

  Bast shook her head and more tears fell. “I was too late. I’m sorry. I thought… I thought Osiris would stop if I could bargain with him. I didn’t know it was Isis. He didn’t know. I tracked her scent here, to you…she could have killed you.”

  I reached for Bast’s face and brushed a thumb against her cheek, mixing my blood with her tears. “Chuck…”

  Her hand caught mine. She clutched it close against her chest. “She’s gone. I’m sorry, so sorry. I wish I’d never told you.”

  She buried her head in my shoulder, sobs racking her body.

  Turning my head toward the bed, I fixed my sharpening gaze on the pair of gold-flecked eyes peering out at me from under the bed.

  “Chuck…” I croaked. “Come out. It’s safe.”

  Chuck slithered forward on her belly, crawling out from under the bed. She still wore my shirt, which was now covered in a few years’ worth of dust. She coughed.

  Bast lifted her head. She blinked at the girl, who was very much alive. Her face went from despair to rage in a split second, and the next thing I felt was a slap burning my cheek.

  Bast scrabbled off me, onto her feet, and backed up. “What? How—I…?”

  Chuck shrugged in that noncommittal way of hers. “Ace said it would work.”

  I’d admit that smiling probably made matters worse.

  Bast’s green eyes flared all cat like. “You bastard!”

  She moved in for what would have been a decent kick had I not shifted sideways. Osiris’s healing had chased away death, but I still had some healing to do. Healing that a kick to the gut wouldn’t help.

  “Hey! The dead girl was fake, but nearly dying wasn’t!”

  “I hate you!” Bast snarled, rumbling the walls again.

  “I get that…a lot.” Clearly nobody was going to help me up, so I hooked my fingers onto the bed and dragged myself onto my knees. The body was still there, in all its gory detail.

  “I don’t…” Bast mumbled. “I can’t…she was dead. She’s dead. She’s there. How?”

  I sat my ass on the bed and focused on breathing. That had been close—too close. I’d been ready and willing too. I’d have died to keep Chuck safe, a girl who deserved to live more than I did.

  “Shukra switched my protection spellwork for an illusionary spell,” I explained. “The body isn’t real. None of it is real.”

  Bast marched to my bed and looked at me. “You brilliant bastard.” She rounded the bed and touched the illusion of the dead body. “It feels real. I can smell the blood.”

  “It’s a good spell.” It had to be to fool Isis, although it had been designed to fool Osiris. “I can’t dispel it while I’m drained. Would you do the honors?”

  Bast hesitated, sweeping her eyes over the carnage, and then undid the spell with a few ancient words. The body and the blood shimmered and dissolved, leaving no trace. Above, the spellwork glowed and burned itself out.

  Bast swore some more, throwing in some colorful, ancient curses for my benefit.

  I looked at Chuck. She’d been hiding under the bed the whole time, listening to it all and seeing Isis toss me through a window. I’d told her to stay hidden—no matter what. It had been important that the gods sensed her inside the room. She’d hidden well.

  She caught me watching her and smiled. “Is your life always this interesting?”

  “Only on Tuesdays. What day is it?”

  She laughed, and Bast cursed my name until she ran out of breath.

  We’d survived the wrath of the gods, but it wouldn’t last. Chuck had to run, far and fast, and she might never be able to stop. If either of them discovered she was alive, there wasn’t anywhere she could hide.

  I fell back on the bed and closed my eyes, exhausted, wrung out, and running on empty. “Wake me up for the next disaster.”

  Chapter 18

  Chuck was wrapped up in a fur coat I’d stolen from Shu’s office. Shu wouldn’t miss it. She had hundreds. Color touched Chuck’s cheeks where the cold wind bit, but her smile was warm.

  She threw her arms around Bast, and they exchanged a few words. I hung back and settled for watching people file into waiting buses. They all had places to be, and Chuck would find hers.

  Bast had given Chuck enough cash to get her started somewhere far, far away from New York. She was a good kid. She’d survived a brush with the gods. Few lived to tell those tales. I had faith she’d do just fine.

  “Hey.” S
he stood in front of me, her pale little hands stuffed in her coat pockets. “Thank you.”

  I smiled back. “Not necessary.”

  She pulled her hand from her pocket and held it out. I closed mine around hers, yanked her into my arms, and hugged her. Bast saw and looked away, but not before I caught her smiling.

  “You’re gonna do just fine,” I said into Chuck’s hair, squeezing her a little too tightly, absorbing what I could of the moment before it passed. If everything went as planned, I’d never see her again. That was how it had to be, but it hurt in ways I couldn’t describe and didn’t want to think about.

  “Sure I am.” She pulled back and adjusted her backpack. “I wish I could stay. There’s so much I want to know.”

  “Bast will follow once she’s certain it’s safe. There’s a lot you need to know.”

  She hesitated, looked at Bast, and then back at me. “We’re the same.”

  I’d been afraid she’d ask, but there wasn’t a question there. She knew the answer. What I wanted to tell her, the things she needed to know about who and what she was—that was a conversation for another time and place.

  “Try and control it. Don’t let it control you.” It was the best piece of advice I had, and advice I’d failed at.

  She grinned and shot a finger-gun at me. “Stay awesome.”

  “Is there any other way?”

  Bast and I watched her climb onto the bus and take a seat near the back. She wiped the condensation off her window and waved at us as the bus pulled out of the depot. Bast waved back while I did my best to smile as doubts poured in. She’d be fine, I knew that, but I would have liked to have time to get to know her and help her.

  “She’ll be all right,” Bast said, sounding very much like the voice in my head.

  “Yeah, she will.”

  “Are we doing the right thing?”

  “Hell if I know.” Judging by Bast’s frown, that had been the wrong thing to say. “C’mon.”

  We started walking back toward the parking lot. Bast’s gaze was as far away as my thoughts.