by Ryvr Jones
Emboldened, Tamerah reached for it, praying it wouldn’t bite her arm or grasp it. The thing stumbled back, hissing through her broken teeth.
“Silver light,” Rhys gurgled.
Tamerah retreated and knelt beside him. “I’m here. I won’t let them get to you,” she promised, touching his face. “You’re mine.”
“Afraid. Light.” His whisper died in a violent cough, and blood dribbled from his mouth. “Them.” He struggled, his head fell to his chest. “It hurts.”
“They’re afraid of light?” She scrunched her nose up, trying to understand. “Light hurts them?”
“Ye…Yes. You,” he rasped. “Silver light.”
Her eyes widened and she turned her head to the creatures. A slow smile spread on her lips as gleeful hate filled her chest. She stood. “Come here, you…” What was the word Rhys used? Ah, yes. “Little fuckers. Come to mama.”
With each step she took, the creatures retreated. Tamerah walked slowly—she didn’t want to get too close. The possibility of touching one of those rancid bodies made her shudder.
After what seemed like an eternity, one by one, the fuckers disappeared into the darkness. Thank the Goddess.
Tamerah ran back to Rhys. He was struggling, whimpering. More of his insides were on the outside. Blood ran from gashes all over his body, from his eyes, ears and mouth. Most of his skin was either black or purple, and it had fallen off in some spots.
His soul is dying. Tears welled in her eyes. She touched his face gently, trying to clean his eyes. “Tell me what can I do.”
“So…sorry,” he whispered. “Do not…” He coughed. “…deserve you. Love you.”
The vines retreated to the ground, disappearing under it, and Rhys collapsed to the floor, unmoving.
“No! Don’t go. Stay with me.” She dragged his upper body to her lap. Cradling his head, she brushed his dirty hair back from his closed eyes. “You asked me to stay with you. You have to stay with me. Please.” Blinded by tears, she shook him. “Wake up. Look at me.” She sobbed. “You need to stay with me so I can take you home. Rhys!”
Nothing. Tamerah hugged him tightly, as if she could keep him with her by holding his battered soul with all her strength. Violent sobs wracked her body, tears flowing freely down her face and mixing with the blood on his.
“I love you, you bonehead! You can’t quit now.” More sobs. “You promised me you would fight!”
He was barely breathing.
“Rhys! Wake up! Please.” She rocked him. “Wake up, wake up. Let me take you home.” She didn’t even know how or if she could take him back, but his soul needed to be alive in order for them to have a chance. “Wake up. Please.”
A gurgle. He opened his mouth but no sound came out, only a dribble of blood.
She kissed his lips. “Please. Don’t quit on me now.”
“Tarani.” She heard him in her head.
“Yes,” she said with a sob. “I’m here. Stay with me.”
“I’m tired, silver light.”
“I know. I know, my poor warrior. Hang on a little longer. Stay with me. Please. I’ll figure out some way to take you home.”
“Yes. Home. Take me home. Don’t leave me here, rotting alone in the darkness.”
“How?” Desperation clawed her skin as her brain searched frantically for some way to get out of this damned darkness, to protect him, to save him. “I don’t know how.”
“I’m so tired.”
“You’re mine, do you hear me? You can’t die.” Please.
She could feel him going away, dissolving into nothing, becoming darkness. His soul is dying.
Seersha’s words came back to her. If his soul dies, the darkness will be unleashed and he would be forever bound in the shadows.
“The Shadows!” It was a long shot, but it was worth a try. Tamerah had no idea if she could use the Shadows inside the Abyss to travel, if they were capable of transporting souls…or if they’d end up someplace worse than where they were right now.
A hysterical laugh bubbled in her gut. It’s not like we have much to lose at this point.
With a last prayer, she closed her eyes, called the Shadows to her, and let the darkness envelop them.
Chapter Seventeen
Cold sweat slid down Nell’s spine. Caeron managed to throw Rhys to the floor, but his hand still clung to Tamerah in what appeared to be an iron grip. The black lines over his skin were spreading, up his hand and down his fingers, until they got to the point where he was touching Tamerah.
“Shit!” Caeron dropped to one knee beside Rhys and ripped his sleeve apart. The lines stopped at his fingertips, but still moved in the opposite direction, climbing towards his shoulder.
“What’s that?” Nell felt stupid and useless. And way over her head. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought the box. I should have sent it and went away.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s the darkness, oh Gods.” Caeron grabbed Rhys by the shoulders and shook the behemoth. “Rhys, man, come back. Try to kill me. Do something!”
Tamerah appeared to be simply sleeping, clinging to Rhys’s fingers with white knuckles. Rhys was rigid, his face contorted in pain.
“He’s barely breathing.” Caeron scrunched his eyes closed. “I think he’s dying.”
“I thought you boneheads didn’t die, not like this.” Nell covered her mouth with a trembling hand. She could feel Caeron’s fear, his pain and his sorrow, emanating from him in thick waves. Sometimes she hated being able to sense others’ emotions. When they were too strong, she was unable to block them off, and worse, felt them as her own.
“Rhys is a special case. And if he dies, we’re screwed. End of the world screwed.” Caeron rested an elbow on his knee, supporting his face with his hand, hiding from her.
“You don’t need to hide,” she said softly. “I can feel how much you care about him, end of the world or not.”
“Congratulations. If the world doesn’t end, I’ll give you a cookie,” Caeron said, his words muffled. He looked at Rhys. “C’mon, man. Don’t die on me. Not like this,” he ended in a whisper.
“Please!” Tamerah screamed and sat upright, her eyes wide as saucers. She blinked, looked at her hand and lunged for Rhys, pushing Caeron with such impetus he ended up on his ass.
Straddling Rhys’s waist, Tamerah grasped his face. “Rhys. Wake up,” she whispered. “We’re home. We made it.” She put her forehead against his, kissed his lips. “Wake up. Please.”
“Tamerah—” Caeron started, getting up, but she cut him off.
“No.” It was a vow. A single syllable, and yet Nell didn’t need her powers to feel the love, the courage, the strength it carried. So much hope.
“Rhys,” Tamerah breathed into his lips. “You can’t die. I haven’t killed you yet.”
Nell looked to Caeron, a question in her eyes, but he shrugged. Okay, then.
“They can’t have you. You’re mine. You belong to me. Your soul belongs to me.” She kissed him again. “Wake up.”
Rhys’s eyelids fluttered. “Tarani.” A whisper, barely there. His eyes opened bit by bit, as if it cost him an enormous effort. “You brought me home.”
The wave of relief that overcame Tamerah and Caeron was so strong, Nell’s knees buckled. She leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, tears welling in her eyes. Caeron dropped beside her, resting his elbows on his bent knees, concern written on his face when he looked at her.
Nell shook her head. “You’re happy,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips. “I feel it here.” She touched her heart.
“Sorry about that,” he quipped, banging his head on the wall behind him. “Rhys, my man, you scared the shit out of us, you dick.”
“Shut up, Caeron,” Tamerah said, never taking her eyes off Rhys. “I know you’re relieved he’s back, but just…shut up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Caeron turned to Nell and mouthed, “We should go.”
“Give me a minute.” she mouthed back. He nodded and she close
d her eyes, resting her head on the wall. Too many emotions floated in the room, battering her mind and her body. She was exhausted.
And scared shitless.
What have I gotten myself into?
She’d known, from a young age, she was different. Her mother had taught her about the powers the women in her family had, and it had always seemed natural to her. They could sense what others felt, sometimes they could see glimpses of the future or the past, and they were supposed to guard what little knowledge was left of what their ancestors had once possessed.
It was forbidden to talk about it outside the family. Her mother had made it excruciatingly clear the first time Nell had a vision, at the mature age of five. Normal people don’t have these gifts, she had said. They will fear you, and some of them will try to harm you. You must keep the silence.
Nell had never forgot. Keep the silence she did, and as soon as she had enough motor skills, her mother had taught her to fight. Just in case, she said.
First, martial arts. Then, kick-boxing. When Nell’s eighteenth birthday arrived, her mother had given her a beautiful pair of long daggers.
And taught her how to use them not only to defend herself, but to maim and kill. Just in case.
Nell had never needed to actually kill or maim anybody. Until rotten corpses had attacked them at the library.
Jesus Christ.
Her training had kicked in quickly, and she’d been able to defend herself from the corpses, to help Rhys and Caeron. Who’d turned into living, moving skeletons, dressed as her friends.
And I thought I was different. I thought I was special.
I thought I was tough.
A laugh crept up her throat and came out as a sob. Nell could feel hysteria hovering at the edges of her mind, trying to drag her to insanity. She covered her mouth with both hands, swallowing another sob.
“Shh.” Caeron touched her shoulder, whispering, “It’s ok. Come, I’ll give you a drink.” He stood up and extended a hand to her.
She accepted his help, knowing she couldn’t trust her own legs to get her upright. They stepped to the corridor and Caeron closed the door quietly behind them, leaving Tamerah and Rhys to their privacy.
As soon as she heard the lock click, Nell stumbled as far as her legs could carry her. She found a room with an open door and threw herself inside, falling to her knees and letting the tears flow.
Caeron hugged her, gently rocking her as a frightened child. “Shh, it’s okay, little seer. It’s too much, I know. Let it go.”
Nell hid her face in his neck, clinging to his shirt with both hands, and cried until she lost her voice.
The Enforcers took Seersha outside Arawn’s complex and tossed her to the ground like a bag of useless bricks.
There wasn’t an inch of her body that didn’t hurt. A lot. They had taken their time cutting her, making her bleed, stabbing and punching and cutting again.
Supernaturals healed a lot faster than humans, and the Gods’ Bridges like herself healed even faster than most other supernaturals. The Enforcers made up for it in numbers and speed. There were so many torturing her at any given time, her body didn’t have time to heal for shit.
Luckily, her soul only needed her body to exist in order to stay attached to it. It didn’t matter if said body was a mass of bruises, broken bones, gashes and holes.
She was so fucked up, she didn’t have any energy to use the Shadows to get out of Annwan.
“Arawn.” she called, even though she despised, to the deepest depths of her being, to ask for favors. Especially from a conceited prick as Arawn. She didn’t have a choice, though. There was nobody else who could take her out. “Please. I need a ride.” She’d have gritted her teeth, if her facial muscles hadn’t been practically destroyed.
The aforementioned prick appeared beside her.
“Please. Take me to Caeron’s home.”
Without a word, he called the Shadows. A moment later, they were in Caeron’s library.
Seersha gurgled a breath of relief. The library was empty, but she was safe here. The Enforcer fuckers couldn’t get to her as long as she was inside Caeron’s walls.
“Near the fire. Please.”
Arawn used the Shadows to move her, instead of carrying her body. She was grateful—right now, she wouldn’t be able to handle being touched. He left her on the rug in front of the fireplace.
“Thank you. Go.”
He nodded and disappeared into the Shadows.
Seersha curled into a ball of misery and agony. The position was excruciating due to all the cuts and bruises and blood, but she couldn’t just lay sprawled. She was too vulnerable, too helpless. With her arms wrapped around her knees, coiled in a fetal position, she felt infinitesimally better.
She stared at the flames and wondered how long would it take to heal this time.
After kissing Rhys’s face a million times, Tamerah allowed herself to put a sliver of distance between them and look at him. She was so relieved to see his skin unmarred and back to its normal color, her eyes filled with tears.
“Don’t cry, Tarani. You saved me.” He sounded exhausted, and she remembered how he’d said I’m tired, silver light…
They were still on the floor, and she was splayed over him, but she didn’t care. He didn’t seem to mind it either.
“Promise me.” She took two fistfuls of his hair in her hands and tugged. “Promise you’ll stay with me. Promise you won’t let your soul die.”
Some of the panic and pain she’d felt in the Abyss came back to haunt her. Rhys had almost been destroyed. His soul had almost died. She couldn’t fathom how it must feel, to be rotting and torn apart…Oh Goddess. It must be like that every time he’s there.
“I’m so sorry, Rhys.” She sobbed, covering him in kisses again, caressing his face, his hair, his arms, everywhere she could reach. “We’ll find a way to keep you out of the Abyss. I’ll never let you go back. I swear.”
“Okay,” he said, his voice raspy and low, as it was every time he came back. Every time he lost his voice from screaming it raw. “I promise. We will.”
Tamerah used the Shadows to move them to his bed. When his back hit the soft mattress, he sighed contentedly and closed his eyes. She rested her head on his chest, entwining their fingers, and let what was thundering through her finally slip free. “I love you, you know.”
“I know,” he murmured.
“And I think you love me.”
“I do.”
“That’s all that matters.” She squeezed his fingers. “Rest now. We’ll save the world tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
Chapter Eighteen
Once Nell’s crying subsided to small sobs, a whimper now and then, Caeron made her wash her face, before taking her downstairs to give her a stiff drink.
To see her crushed like this, falling apart, broke his heart. And yet, it was to be expected. She was brave and smart, but still mostly human, and new to this kind of crap.
“I’m feeling better,” she said as they descended. Her face was puffy and red, her eyes bright. “Sorry for the meltdown.”
“No worries.” He smiled. “Truth be told, you’re handling it better than I’d have hoped. Probably better than I’d have handled it. Ladies first,” he said, gesturing for her to enter the library. He kept his books and his booze in the same room, because he often needed some liquid courage while he did research.
Nell crossed the door, saying, “Yeah? How would you—” She gasped and doubled over, hugging her stomach. “Jesus. It hurts.”
Caeron jumped ahead of her, afraid he knew what was broadcasting the pain Nell felt. A mass of battered flesh was lumped in front of his fireplace, bleeding into his rug. Seersha. Gods.
He ran to her side, his guts revolting, bile creeping up his throat.
“Please.” Seersha was curled in a fetal position, her eyes staring at the fire. “Let me stay.”
It was probably the first time he’d ever heard her say “please” wi
thout being sarcastic. That she was willing to beg for shelter, for permission to stay, was a testimony of how bad they’d hurt her, and how vulnerable she felt. Fuck.
“Of course you can stay.” He crouched down so she could see his face.
His body physically hurt with anger and sadness for her. Seersha wasn’t his favorite person in the world, not by a long shot, but she didn’t deserve this. Fucking Enforcers.
“Someday I’ll kill them.”
“I’ll gladly help.” He reached to take a dark lock of hair off her face.
“Don’t touch. Please.”
Caeron let his arm fall by his side. He knew too well how difficult and terrifying it was to be touched after being submitted to this kind of brutality. “You should’ve left us in the library. You shouldn’t have gone through this because of us.”
“You couldn’t handle this. I can.”
“Maybe, but still. It was our mess, we should be the ones beaten to a pulp for it.”
Seersha didn’t respond. He itched to hug her, to comfort her. An acute need to do something, to make up for being the cause of her horrifying suffering, clawed his insides. Can I risk it?
Nell came up behind him. “I got my shit together, managed to block some of the pain.” She looked at Seersha’s battered body and gasped. “Jesus fucking Christ. This is brutal.”
“No shit,” he said, bitterness coating his tongue. “They’re soulless bastards commanded by an ancient asshole God, what did you expect? Flowers and candles, a call next day?”
“Of course not,” she huffed. “I didn’t think it’d be this bad, though. I’m sorry, Seersha. I wish I could do something.”
Caeron sighed. I can. “I need you to leave us alone, Nell. Wait outside the door, and don’t let anyone in until l say so.”
Nell huffed. “Since you asked nicely.” She marched out, muttering under her breath.
“I hope I’m not about to make a huge mistake.” He looked into Seersha’s eyes. “Can I trust you? Can I trust you with my soul?”
She dipped her head a millimeter.
He nodded once, curt and sharp. “I can help you heal. I can’t make you brand new, but I’ll do the best I can.”
