At Death's Door (Deadman's Cross Book 3)

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At Death's Door (Deadman's Cross Book 3) Page 4

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

He had a point, she supposed.

  Suddenly, the two of them were outside the room.

  Valynda jerked her skirt out of the paws of one last rat, which sent the little beast tumbling away from her. It scurried off.

  Bright light blinded her as she found herself on an island beneath a bent palm tree. Grateful she was no longer under assault from the furry little rodents, she held her hand up to shield her eyes from the glare.

  The Malachai seemed even taller here. Somehow more massive even though they weren’t in a confined space. And that said a lot for his presence and powers.

  His skin faded to that of a normal man. Well, “normal” was a stretch given that he was exceedingly handsome with eyes so clear and blue they’d rival the very sky for its cerulean clarity.

  Her jaw went slack.

  An evil smile curved his lips. “Transmutation is only one of my many powers.”

  She snapped her mouth closed, unwilling to feed his massive ego any more, lest it grow larger. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

  “Depends. Are you ready to be human again?”

  Valynda held her breath at an offer that was too good to be true. Aye, she knew that adage and then some. Looking a gift horse in the mouth never turned out well. It made enemies all around.

  And when things were too good, people turned into Voodoo dolls and life slid straight into the very bowels of hell.

  “I wasn’t born yesterday, sirrah. No one makes such an offer without exacting a dear price for it.” And having already paid a price so dear that it left her soul raw and bleeding, she had no desire to repeat such a mistake.

  She had no more blood to give. Literally and figuratively.

  “True. There is something I want.”

  Of course there was. No one gave because they were altruistic. There was no such thing as a “good” Samaritan. Better than anyone, she knew that. So, she braced herself for the repercussions of refusing him because there was no way she intended to play this game with something like the Malachai when she knew she was going to lose. “And that is?”

  “You to join my ušumgallu.”

  Stunned to her very straw core, she stared at him. Was he serious?

  Well that’s something new. And not what she’d been expecting.

  The ušumgallu were the main generals who led his demonic army. Powerful beyond belief, they were the very things she and Mara, and the rest of the Deadmen, had been fighting against lo these many, many bloody months. Horrible beasts, one and all. It was what Thorn had resurrected them for—to keep the Malachai and his evil forces from taking over the world and swallowing it whole.

  They were the blackest guard who wanted to enslave mankind and watch the world burn. Literally and figuratively.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I lost my Šarru-Namuš.” Death King. The moment Adarian said the name, she saw a glimmer in his eye that said he hadn’t lost him so much as he’d probably either sacrificed said being …

  Or brutally killed him or her. Probably for nothing more than breathing the same air. Adarian was, after all, the Malachai. Killing off his generals and replacing them with another poor unfortunate soul wasn’t unheard of. It was rather a blood sport of sorts for his kind, as they held no value for anyone, not even those who served them.

  “And I can think of no better replacement than one such as yourself, given your need for vengeance upon this world for what it’s done to you.” Adarian lifted her chin so that she was staring up into his glowing, feral eyes. “Provided you bring me Nibo’s crook.”

  There it was.

  The rub that would get her killed if she was discovered, for that was the one thing Xuri would never part with. He’d gut her himself should she dare try to take his staff from him, as it held mystic powers she couldn’t even begin to fathom. She felt her stomach twist at the very thought of what Adarian asked.

  And she wasn’t dumb enough to fall for it. “You’re the Malachai. Why not get it yourself, Lord of Infinite Powers?”

  His eyes turned a vibrant red and his brow darkened as if he were about to hit her for her insolence. And he wouldn’t be the first to lay fist to her cheek. Her father had raised her on that tactic.

  So, she braced herself for the impact.

  But it didn’t come. Rather, he seemed to catch his temper at the last second, and took a deep breath.

  To her even greater shock, he laughed and stepped away from her. His huge black wings expanded out from his back while he paced. They twitched to show his irritation. “It’s enchanted. I cannot remove the crook from his possession. But you … you can go in there and pull it out for me.”

  She laughed out loud at the thought. Nibo’s crook that he wore as a small charm about his neck was deemed sacred. The one time she’d accidentally brushed it with her fingertips out of curiosity, he’d actually hissed at her and pulled back as if he were a cobra. His reaction had been so swift and instinctive that it’d scared them both.

  To this day, she knew better than to go near it. Either when it was around his neck as a charm, or when he held it in his hand as a walking stick.

  He would definitely kill me.

  “Would he?” Adarian asked.

  She gasped at the fact he’d heard her thoughts.

  Stepping forward, he turned her around on the beach so that she faced a tall, intricately carved looking glass that rose up from the sand. Her eyes widened at the sight of her in her old body, dressed in the finest ball gown she’d ever seen. Tears shimmered in their dark depths because they were no longer that hateful demonic red caused by her unholy resurrection.

  Her eyes were once again the dark brown of her human lifespan.

  She reached up to touch the flesh of her cheek to make sure it was real skin.

  It was. As was the dark auburn hair that she’d missed so much. Thick and soft tresses that twined about her fingers like silk, not horrid straw that crinkled and broke. For the first time in her life, she didn’t even mind the size of her nose, because it was hers and it was real. This was no illusion or dream.

  She was human again.

  Falling to her knees in the sand, she wept in relief, grateful beyond measure to feel the wetness on her cheeks and to endure the stuffy nose and swollen eyes that came with it.

  Adarian watched her with a cold, calculated stare. “I want his crook and Thorn’s sword. Get them for me and I will ensure that you maintain this appearance you so covet.”

  Damn him for knowing the one thing she’d betray the world for. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “And if I can’t get them?”

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Valynda. There’s nothing you can’t get from a man if you set your mind to it.”

  She hated him for that, as she’d never been the kind to use her looks or wiles that way. It wasn’t in her to be manipulative or to use another person for personal gain. She found it petty and cruel. Heartless. In truth, she’d always hated the attention her looks had caused. The distraction. The animosity and trouble. From the moment the other girls had realized that she turned male attention away from them toward her, her life had become hell. Especially because she’d been poor.

  Whore. Gold digger. Tart. Slag. She’d been called every name imaginable.

  All except the one she’d wanted …

  Friend.

  The men had been even worse. They hadn’t seen her as anything more than a pretty object to be claimed. A token they wanted to ruin and sully, and then cast away once they had their pleasure and were done with her. Because she had no money, she was of no value to them as anything more than a passing curiosity. She’d spent her entire mortal life being treated as if she had no feelings. Put down and belittled as some trifle to be ignored at best and berated for sport at worst.

  She’d learned to hate the world. To lash out anytime someone got too close.

  Until Nibo.

  How ironic that it’d been a spirit of death who’d taught her about life. Who’d given her a reason
to live and to love. A reason to want to be a part of the world that had done its best to make her feel unwanted.

  He alone had seen past her flesh and not been taken in by her beauty. Rather, it was her heart and soul that beguiled him.

  Just as she’d fallen in love with his.

  Nibo had given her a cold once-over on the night they’d met … “You’re passing enough, I suppose. For a human.”

  Most women would have been insulted. She’d been intrigued. Nibo hadn’t seen her external beauty until they became close. That was his curse. He couldn’t see the physical appearance of anyone. He only saw the truth of their soul. It’d been her inner fire that had attracted him. The fact that she’d called him out for his inappropriate behavior and made him act better whenever he was with her.

  She’d demanded he rise above his baser mischievous arrogance and treat people with regard and not the disdain he was famed for.

  He was an insufferable ass, but he was her ass.

  “Why should I be human, Vala? I’m a death loa. We’ve never been polite. To anyone.”

  “Because there are enough assholes in this world, Xuri. Why should you strive to be another?”

  A tear ran down her cheek as she remembered the first time Xuri had kissed her. The possessive passion he’d shown. The love and desire. Fired not just by lust, but by real care and something so much deeper. She could still taste his lips. Feel his hesitant arms around her body as he drew her close to his side.

  He who knew no fear or doubt had been bashful the first time he’d tasted her lips. And that was a part of him that she would always cherish. The part of him that she alone possessed and held sacred.

  For she had seen him vulnerable.

  She had seen him human.

  “I could never betray him.”

  Adarian leaned down to whisper in her ear. “He betrayed you the minute he let another man lay claim to your life and take it while he did nothing to protect you from Benjamin’s madness. Why didn’t he fight for you?”

  Pain shattered her heart over something she did her best not to think about. Ever, as the pain of it all was so much more than she could bear. It was true. Xuri should have protested her father’s actions and taken her away from a fate so much worse than death. Why hadn’t he fought when the pastor came and demanded her hand from her father?

  Instead, he’d said nothing when she told him her father had arranged her marriage to a stranger.

  His dark eyes had held no emotion whatsoever. Neither had his flat and even tone. “It’s for the best.”

  How could he ever say such to her? Wish it on her when he was supposed to love her above all others?

  Valynda had been outraged. “I don’t love him, Xuri. How can I marry him when I’m married to you?”

  “We have a spiritual marriage. It’s not the same, Vala. You know that. What you share with a loa transcends human marriage. It can never be the same.”

  Those words had torn her heart out and left it bleeding at his feet, where he’d stepped on it and ground it into the dirt beneath his heel. After everything they’d shared, she’d stupidly deluded herself into thinking that they had something more than a simple tawdry affair. That Xuri had been different than the other men who’d made advances toward her. Surely she hadn’t bought into his lies. Deluded herself into thinking he was better than the others, only to find out that he wasn’t. Yet as they continued to argue, she had come to the horrible realization that he’d been using her as a mindless tool.

  In the end, he’d been no better than anyone else.

  Another lousy user out for himself, who saw people like her as nothing. Not even human.

  He’d wanted her virginity and he’d taken it. What happened to her after that hadn’t mattered to him. The laws of man that would denounce her as a whore were irrelevant. What did it matter to a loa who lived beneath the sea in his happy little kingdom, where the laws of man didn’t apply? He would always be untouched by what they’d done.

  Meanwhile, she was ruined. Her future destroyed. He’d single-handedly set fire to and annihilated every plan and dream she ever had.

  And the worst part?

  He didn’t care. Nibo had looked her dead in the eye and not blinked or shown any remorse for his actions. That utter lack of regard had shattered her heart.

  It had destroyed a part of her that would never heal again.

  That was the day she’d learned what true hatred was.

  The pain had been more than she could take. To know that no one had ever loved her. That after all this time, she’d allowed herself to be taken in by a pretty face and honeyed, lying tongue. That she’d wasted her love on a heartless bastard …

  How could she have been so incredibly stupid? Was she really so desperate for love that she’d allowed herself to become his prey so easily? The pitifulness of it all had been more than she could bear.

  Furious, she’d gathered her skirts and moved to leave him. “Then I will marry no one! I denounce even you!”

  That was what had gotten her into this fix. Her stubborn tongue and independent fire that had refused to heel for any man.

  Even her father.

  The moment the “good” Christian pastor had learned of her connection to a loa, and of her determination to avoid her marriage, not only to him, but anyone, he’d become a crazed monster. One bent on her complete and utter destruction. Whatever the cost to both their lives and souls. He’d lied and gone after her with a fanatic zeal that had made no sense.

  She’d never understand how people could be so callous toward each other. How one person could set out to destroy another without any regard for them or their family. All that mattered was their own selfish gain. Their own wealth and wants. To hell with the person they were destroying.

  Surely there was a special corner of hell reserved for such wretched bastards. A place where all the world would see them for what they were and know them by their lies and deeds, where they would be stripped bare to be eternally mocked for it all.

  They were the true whores of Babylon. For they took the hearts of the faithful and crushed them with their cruelty, causing those of faith to doubt the existence of all goodness and kindness in this world and beyond. Removing them from the path of right and the hand of God to pull them toward the darkness.

  Forever lost to the cruelty of their actions.

  So here she was.

  Twice cursed.

  Betrayed. And with no hope of anything better.

  “Don’t you deserve to be loved?” Adarian’s question hung in the air between them.

  Valynda felt more tears stinging her eyes as she stared in the looking glass that reflected her perfect, serene image on the beach. A clear sunny day that was at odds with the storm brewing inside her.

  Of course she did. All creatures deserved love. It was a basic right that came with the first breath of life, and yet it seemed to forever elude her. What a tragedy that so many were forced to fight for it. Even more were denied its crucial sustenance. And why?

  Because of the brutality of others.

  What was wrong with this world that so many were caught up in their own pain that they sought to lash out and inflict their misery upon all they met? How could people be so mean?

  Aye, she wanted blood for what had been done to her. Just like they did. It wasn’t fair what had happened. It wasn’t right. She’d never asked to be turned into a monstrosity because of one man’s selfishness.

  Surely, she deserved some happiness. Just once.

  Something for herself. Was that really so selfish?

  Thorn had promised her a body and yet she’d seen the doubt in his eyes whenever he spoke of it. As if he feared his ability to keep his word.

  No one had ever once kept their troth to her. Unless their word had been to inflict pain and harm. That promise they’d abided by and then some.

  So how could she trust anyone? She’d been lied to the whole of her life.

  By everyone. Her mother. Her f
ather.

  Xuri.

  Charlatans, all. Her beleaguered heart was scarred beyond all recognition at this point. She didn’t even know how it was capable of beating anymore, given the abuse it’d taken.

  So weary was she that she knew better than to even hold out a snail’s snot of hope that this beast before her would keep faith in what he was telling her. ’Twas Sam’s folly to even dabble with the notion that he be honest.

  If his lips are moving, he’s lying. …

  Aye, that was the one truth she could believe.

  “How do I know you’ll keep this bargain?”

  Adarian laughed bitterly. “That’s the rub, isn’t it? You never know what set of lips are false or true. The world is filled with liars and thieves, beggars and whores, all out to take what they can while assuring you that you can trust them to do no harm. Each one stealing a bit of your soul with everything they take until you have so little left that you become one of them. Or something far worse.”

  He was right. That was the hardest struggle in life. To maintain a grip on your soul when you were done wrong, especially by someone you trusted. To not let the beasts rob the last of your goodwill. Your decency.

  It wasn’t the scarecrow she feared being anymore.

  ’Twas the shadow overtaking her heart that caused her to wake up screaming at night.

  Because, deep inside, she knew she had so little goodness left that it wouldn’t take much to tip that scale over and render her useless and dark for the rest of eternity.

  To make her one of the beasts she hated most. The beasts they were commissioned to stop from preying on others.

  But to take from the two men who had helped her …

  She couldn’t do it.

  Adarian tsked. “Here, love. Let me help with your decision.”

  The image in the mirror turned sinister. Swirling. No longer was it her reflection. Rather, it became a dark, raucous tavern that looked similar to those she knew Xuri had a peculiar penchant for. The kind he’d never allowed her to venture into because he claimed that he didn’t want her tainted by their tawdry ways.

  “You are far too pure for such, lanmou mwen. You don’t need to be sullied with my bad habits. I’d rather you lift me up than I drag you down.” His words had always touched her.

 

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