Darkness Brutal (The Dark Cycle Book 1)

by Rachel A. Marks

  Smoke rises from his coat; something sizzles under my palm. The wolf demon raises its snout in the air like it can smell it.

  The Heart-Keeper smiles. “You know what I am, Seer. And yet you touch me?” He reaches out before I can react, snatching the amulet from my neck and tossing it in the same direction that my dagger went. Then he shoves all his energy at me.

  I’m hit by an invisible blow. I soar backward through the air, slamming into the jagged rock behind me before collapsing to the floor with a rush of breath from my lungs.

  Everything blurs.

  “Aidan!” Kara screams. She’s at my side, tugging on my arm as if to drag me up.

  I cough, and blood splatters from my mouth.

  Kara is yanked away. She flies back, landing in a crumpled mass by the archway at the feet of the Heart-Keeper.

  He moves to stand over me, holding his hand out, like he’s ordering the wolf demon not to strike. “I won’t let my servant kill you,” he says to me, “since it doesn’t serve my purpose. Yet I feel it’s only fair that he is able to taste your blood since he’s seen what you will do to his race in the future.”

  He steps aside, and the wolf demon is there, red-lit eyes on me.

  I scramble along the wall toward the cave opening. Those hunched shoulders, those familiar claws that held my mother’s life in their grip . . . They tore into my world, killing my childhood, marking Ava, taking everything I cared about in a moment.

  Before I can twist out of the way it has me, claws like thorns digging into my shoulder, sliding me across the sandy floor. A snarl of satisfaction comes from the creature’s snout. It huffs its misty-red breath in my face and then swings wide, raking me across the cheek.

  The smell of ash fills my head. The smell of blood.

  I struggle, trying to get to my feet. The beast moves in for another blow. I duck, and my head spins, the ground tipping, my stomach rising. It grips me from behind, encircling my neck with a large claw, talons sinking into my skin, drawing more blood. It drags me to the middle of the room, yanking my arms behind my back. Then it shoves me to my knees, forcing me to face the altar once more, this time as its captive.

  I watch the blurred shape of the Heart-Keeper as he paces back and forth along the other side of my sister’s body. I try to breathe, to think clearly past the pain and the terror. I won’t let it swallow me.

  The Heart-Keeper taps the dagger against his chin in consideration. “Since I cannot kill you right now, I’ve decided we’ll play a game.”

  The wolf demon releases a low, rumbling laugh. Its large bone fingers crush my trachea as it raises my chin so I’m forced to see what’s about to happen. The Heart-Keeper lifts Kara’s limp body from the ground.

  Sand peppers her hair and one side of her face. Her eyes are listless. He holds her against him like a lover. Caressing her neck, her arms. Her head lolls to the side, resting on his chest.

  I jerk against my captor with all my strength, but the talons only clench harder at my throat. The demon pulls my arms back until they’re close to breaking, forcing me to cry out in pain and rage.

  Kara’s eyes crack open; a moan escapes her lips.

  The Heart-Keeper smiles again. Then he brings the dagger up, resting the tip against her cheek. He touches his nose to the top of her head and takes in a long breath. A rumble sounds deep in his chest. “If I had more time, I’d take her flesh. I see you haven’t claimed her.” He looks over at me. “Weak boy. You missed your chance.”

  I close my eyes, unable to watch the horror. Helplessness overwhelms me. I have nothing, nothing to fight with. Without even realizing it, I begin to mumble under my breath, if only to block out the Heart-Keeper’s chain of sickening words about what he’ll do to Kara, how he’ll torment her. I whisper, “Baruch atah Adonai elohaynu melech ha’olam asher” over and over again: Praised are You, Adonai our God, Sovereign of the Universe who . . . but I have nothing to ask for, nothing to connect the blessing to. I recite it again and again, hoping that something will come to me, until it feels like a song and everything else slips away.

  The wolf demon whines like a nervous dog. The Heart-Keeper goes silent.

  I open my eyes, the words going still on my tongue. The Heart-Keeper’s human facade flickers for a second, revealing a hint of twisted demon features.

  “Quiet!” he snarls, his skin looking like it wants to crawl off his bones, like his whole body wants to escape the simple words.

  I begin again, speaking louder, more sure of myself.

  The Heart-Keeper hisses, “Rip out his tongue!”

  The wolf demon obeys instantly, loosening its grip on my wrists to grab my jaw.

  I take the opportunity to slip a hand free, reach into my pocket, dig out what’s left of my sacred dirt, and then twist, shoving my fist into its doglike face.

  Its skin sizzles. It screeches and swings a fist, striking my temple.

  The world spins again, but I manage to roll away before the beast can lunge a second time.

  I land in the corner where my dagger was tossed, my amulet beside it. I snatch up the dagger, coming around in an arc of movement, slashing at the apparition from hell as its claws swing, digging shallow cuts across my chest.

  I barely feel them as my blade catches its target.

  Leather skin and muscle give way. The beast freezes for a second, its jaws opening in a growl of pain, red eyes wide with shock. Even I’m not sure what to do as I look at the molten crack across its arm muscle made by my dagger.

  “Foolish creature,” the Heart-Keeper growls, “get hold of him!”

  The wolf demon snaps back to attention, keying in on me again. I glance down at the blade in my fist and then up at my attacker, and I see in its face that it’s considering the same thing I am: demons can be killed.

  I rise in a surge of power and charge. It twists out of the way, but my next dagger strike is ready. In a flash, I spin in the opposite direction, bring the blade up, and slam it to the hilt into the taut belly. A cry of rage comes from us both. I yank up, tearing the creature wide open.

  I’m frozen for a second, trying to register the contact. The demon’s black blood is spilling over my hands and pooling at my feet. I pull the blade out and step away, taking in the sight of what I’ve done.

  The wound begins to spark, turning molten orange, like the dying embers of a fire. Fissures open along the demon’s torso, bright and crackling, until they’re sizzling with a hiss. Then the figure crumples in on itself, skin drifting up like floating ash, revealing twisted bone before the remains fly up in a surge of wind, disappearing into the air with a burst of cinder and dust.

  I turn to the Heart-Keeper. Kara’s still held against him, his blade at her pink throat.

  He looks at the floating ash of his minion and snarls. “That wasn’t wise.”

  I try to catch my breath. But just as I’m getting ready to move closer, test his resolve, something shifts in the air, and I pause.

  The Heart-Keeper looks up.

  I follow his line of sight to the opening in the ceiling over the altar. A shadow falls over the hole, casting itself on Ava’s form.

  Ice crawls over my skin.

  It’s time.

  The Heart-Keeper goes for Ava in a blur of movement.

  But the second he lets Kara go, she spins, slipping a knife from her pocket and ramming it into his neck.

  He hisses angrily and shoves Kara with his powers, slamming her into the altar. Her head strikes the edge with a loud crack.

  She collapses to the floor as the demon raises the needle-thin dagger over Ava’s chest.

  I cry out, surging forward.

  But it’s too late.

  The blade slides into my sister’s heart. The hilt hits her ribs hard enough to crack bone. And all the air leaves my lungs.

  “Mine,” the demon growls, his
voice echoing against the stone walls like a curse.

  Ava’s small chest moves once, then again, until it goes perfectly still. A shadow of blood blossoms on her shirt.

  I choke and cry out as I stumble to the altar. The weight crashes in on me; too much, too much to carry.

  I failed. God, what have I done?

  Then suddenly her body jerks as the Heart-Keeper slices into bone, trying to dig out what’s inside.

  The pain fills me in a rush, propelling me to my feet. I leap onto the altar and shove him back. His hand slips off the dagger as he falls.

  I land on him and raise my own blade, bringing it down again and again, into his neck, his chest, his shoulders, screams of rage and horror filling the cave, until I’m spent and he’s not fighting back anymore.

  I blink, looking down at my new creation. There’s no blood. He’s just lying there, staring up. Grinning.

  I stand and back away, putting myself between him and Ava.

  He rises to his feet. His face is a strange mask of bloodless cuts and misshapen features. His skin hangs in flaps at his neck. “This will only end one way,” he says through his sliced lips.

  “I’m going to kill you,” I say.

  He sneers. “No.” He glances at the white stone archway. An escape?

  “Don’t even think about it,” I say.

  He shakes his head and raises his dagger hand, showing it to me. It’s smeared with blood. Ava’s blood. “Now it will be much worse for you.” He grins, his features like a badly fitted mask as he places his bloody palm flat against the wall behind him.

  Cracks instantly emerge in the stone, growing from the smudges of Ava’s blood. The ground shudders. The air hisses. And the wall within the archway indents with a thud. The fissures multiply, more and more of them, until the sound of snapping granite vibrates in my skull.

  And then, in a suck of air, the cave wall disappears, revealing a torrent, a vortex of wind and gasses, angry and alive with sparks of silver and flashes of red energy. Its will is fierce, a raging storm, pulling me closer, urging every molecule in me to fly into its arms.

  I stumble back, tearing my gaze from the eye of the torrent. My hip bumps into the altar. I reach for Ava—she’s so cold and so stiff.

  She can’t be gone from me.

  “I have a deal for you, young man,” the Heart-Keeper says as the world thunders and swirls behind him. “Sheol is on its way. I can mitigate the approaching war. I merely need to come back with your sister.”

  I look down at Ava, at her violet-tinted lips. Her humanity is fading. “You can’t have her.”

  “You would sacrifice the world’s fate for her?”

  “She’s mine.”

  He clenches his teeth. “This is my game, Seer, not yours. Her heart belongs to me.”

  A spark lights in me, an idea. “Not if I allow you to have me.”

  That’s the answer. It always was. My life for Ava’s.

  “If I take her place,” I continue, “you have to release your hold on her. You have to balance the scale back to the way it should be.”

  His eyes widen in surprise. He licks his misshaped lips. “It is not what I want.”

  “I claim her. You can only have me.” The demon that put the mark on my sister to claim her is dead. Shouldn’t that mean she doesn’t belong to anyone now?

  He stares through me, and I wonder if I’m wrong—if he won’t have to take the deal just because I claimed my sister like I claimed Kara. But then he motions for me to come closer.

  I force myself to move toward him. This is the only way. Me for her.

  The Heart-Keeper reaches out and places his hand over my heart, slinking his dark energy over my skin. He closes his eyes, and his visage flickers again, revealing for a flash the twisted demon beneath the mask.

  “Surprising,” he whispers. His eyes fly open, and he grins wide and horrifying. “You bear murder on your soul. It’s delicious.” His fingers slide down my chest, and something like elation fills his sapphire eyes. “My brothers will enjoy ripping the flesh from your bones. You are not Other as your sister is, but perhaps we can make your soul into something even more wonderful.” He takes my hand in his, like a lover would, and nudges me toward the swirling black of the doorway.

  It’s impossible to move. But I step forward, following his lead, unable to stop the shaking, the overwhelming fear that wraps around me as we face the darkness. Cries filter out of the vortex, soulless screams of anguish that I suddenly know with stark clarity will soon be mine. I prepare to step into it, resigning myself—

  Something green moves out of the corner of my eye. A leaf uncurls over the stone near my head. Then a budding stem emerges, bursting open into a white flower. Another follows beside that, and another, and another, until they’re growing everywhere, covering the archway and the sandy ground beneath my feet like a blanket.

  Fiona.

  A burst of energy heavy with emotion unfurls in the air, swirling around me. The spirit takes shape, a warm caress against my skin, just a breath, and I’m wrapped in her arms, wrapped in a love so strong it hurts.

  Just as quickly as the warmth comes, it ends. The spirit becomes a force. Fury and wind. A golden mist shimmering in the air. It pushes through me, into the Heart-Keeper, catching him off guard and knocking him off his feet.

  I jerk back, slipping from his grasp as he tips into the void.

  He reaches out, trying to catch hold of something, but the golden mist moves faster, sending him reeling. Fiona’s shape appears, falling with him, her spirit curled around his body, holding him captive, as they fade further and further into the dark storm. I watch in horror as they descend, until they’re gone from view.

  And I’m alone, staring at the torrent.

  Suddenly a claw emerges, gripping the arch from the other side. Then another, larger one—talons digging into the stone rim. Something’s trying to climb through, into the cave.

  Out of instinct, I run to Ava and swipe my hand across the blood that’s pooled beneath her on the altar. Hand dripping, I race back and hold my palm where I think the wall might be.

  The stone wall reappears with a quake in the air and a loud thud. The void is gone, the air still, the arch wall solid once more. All that remains to tell me that the last few minutes of horror weren’t just a dream is the ringing in my ears—and the three severed talons in the sand. It was real. And yet I’m still here.

  And Ava . . .

  I turn back to her. I touch her porcelain cheek, her soft hair, saying her name, trying to call her back. My vision blurs. I put a shaking hand to the silver hilt of the dagger in her chest and pull. It slides out with a hiss of breath. I toss the blade across the room.

  I try to close the wound with my hands. Her blood smears on my arms, on her face, as I fold the tear in her shirt and try to wipe the dirt from her cheek and arrange her hair. But I can’t put her back together. “Ava, please,” I say, feeling it all well up inside me. “Please, wake up.”

  Her features are unnaturally smooth, like a wax figure frozen for all time. I reach out with my spirit looking for her, trying to hear her, to see her. Like I always do, I call out to her with my mind, with my heart. But there’s nothing.

  I’ve lost her. Everything I am, everything I’ve done, was for her. And now she’s gone.

  I hear a groan, and it breaks through my sorrow. Ava?

  Not Ava. No. It’s Kara.

  I pull myself away from Ava and kneel at Kara’s side. She tries to lift her head and gasps in pain, bringing her hand to her temple. Her fingers come away red. “Wha . . . what happened?” And then she moans and covers her mouth with her hand, like she might throw up.

  “Don’t move,” I say, gripping her arm. “You probably have a concussion. You hit your head really hard.”

  I sit on the ground, shivering from shock, and ho
ld her against me. I try to decide what to do. Kara needs medical attention, and I don’t know if I can still help Ava. The Heart-Keeper said Ava would survive if he cut out her heart—because of her blood. But he never completed the ceremony. Was there something he was going to do to bring her back?

  I don’t know any of the answers. All I know is that I need to get help for both of them. I pull out my cell phone, but it’s smashed to hell and waterlogged. I feel around in Kara’s pocket and find hers. I punch in Eric’s number and pray for reception.

  It rings. Faint, but there. Hanna answers, “You’re all right!”

  “I need help,” I say, my voice hollow. “Kara hit her head really hard and Ava—”

  I can’t say anything else.

  “It’s okay, Aidan,” she says. Her soft tone only makes the ache in my chest grow. “Where are you?”

  “Sid knows,” I mumble and hang up. I rest my head against the altar, drawing Kara closer, needing to feel her. She curls into my chest, and the smell of her pain filters into the air around me. I touch her shoulder, her face. My fingers graze her bruised cheek and brush the hair from her eyes. I cradle her, wishing I could go back in time and tell her that I love her. Tell Ava that I love her, no matter what she is or what she does.

  I settle in to wait for a future I don’t recognize.

  FIFTY-ONE

  Sid takes Kara from me. I can barely move. I want to follow him to the hospital, to watch after her. But I can’t leave Ava in this dark place. Alone.

  I sit for what feels like days, staring at the stone archway, the bloody dagger lying in my lap. But the sun never comes up; the stars just keep shining like silver pinpricks in the piece of the sky that I can see through the hole in the ceiling. I wonder if time ended. I still feel like I’m on the edge of a precipice. I’m tempted to cast myself over it, like my grandmother. To put another bloody palm to that doorway, take Ava’s hand, and pull us both into the void, following our mother.

  But when Fiona’s spirit wrapped herself around me in that last moment, it was like an order to not let go, to not lose hope. She threw herself into Sheol to save me once more. I can’t give up. Not now. Ava’s still here with me. I have to hope.