I threw another punch, this time aiming for his face, but his hand shot up and he grabbed my fist.
I pulled, trying to get free, and I did, but I lost my glove in the process.
The female noble squeaked and pointed at my hand.
Shit.
The male staggered back, his eyes turning to saucers.
“Excuse me.” Bernie appeared, pushing into the circle of nobles. He took my arm and pulled me away.
I didn’t look back, but the buzz that erupted behind me told me that my secret was out.
ASH
“Shit! I’m sorry! I couldn’t just let them pick on that poor girl.”
Bernie pulled me through an archway and into a deserted corridor. He pressed me up against the wall, his lips a thin line, his eyes shifting from side to side. I could tell he was debating something.
“What? Spit it out.”
“You just killed that Hellion.”
“What?”
“They’ll kill her for the embarrassment you just caused. It’s how it works. An owned Hellion is its master’s or mistress’s property to do as they wish. A Hellion who protests, objects, or does anything contrary to its noble’s wishes is put down. It’s how the nobles keep control. If you hadn’t noticed, they’re seriously outnumbered by their Aether-created slaves. Fear and control is their only weapon.”
It, he kept saying it. “That Hellion is a ‘she,’ a person.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I forget that you’re new to the way of life here. Hellions aren’t born, they’re created, from Aether, by the nobles, so they’re . . .” He shrugged, and for the first time since I’d known Bernie, I felt a pang of genuine annoyance toward him.
“What? They’re not living, breathing beings? They don’t have emotions, or feel pain? What? Damn, Bernie. What the hell happened to you?”
“If we’re going to save your friend, then we need to get going.”
“My friend the abomination?”
“Dammit, Ash. What do you want me to say? I may not agree with how things are done here, but that’s the way it is. It works.”
“And would you be saying that if you weren’t a noble? Answer me that. Would you feel the same way if you were still a plaything for your master?”
His face went blank, completely devoid of any emotion. He straightened. “I’m going back into the meeting. If you want to save your friend then you can come with me. Otherwise, you’re on your own.”
“Wow. Seriously? You’d just dump me like that? Fuck, Bernie. Makes me wonder why I bothered hauling my butt all the way here to save yours.” I turned away to hide the hot moisture in my eyes. I bloody hated it when I cried and it always happened when I was pissed off.
He grabbed my arm as I moved back toward the party. “Where are you going?”
“To save a life!”
Next thing I knew I was pressed back up against the wall, but this time he was pressed up against me, his lips claiming mine, his tongue invading my mouth, his hands holding me still, keeping me from buckling because, damn, that kiss was like fire skating over my skin.
Somewhere in the distance, I heard a scream, but it seemed so far away. I was drowning in him, melting under those expert hands that seemed to know just where to cup or skate or squeeze, and then it was over. Bright hazel eyes watched me, waiting for my reaction.
I gave myself a moment to get my breathing under control. Man, this bodice was tight. I pushed at his chest and he stepped back.
“I still have to try to save that girl.”
He glanced over my head toward the party. “It’s over.”
“What?”
“She’s dead.”
I shook my head. “No, no, what?” The scream I’d heard when he was kissing me . . . had he kissed me to stop me from acting? To stop me from seeing the execution? I could see the answer in his eyes, that flash of guilt, and then he was turning away and striding off down the corridor.
I watched his broad back vanish into the shadows and realised I didn’t know who Bernie was anymore. I’d thought I’d seen her, in his eyes. But now I wasn’t so sure. My Bernie had a desperate regard for life. She’d put her own on the line for Ryder, for me. This Bernie . . .
It doesn’t matter right now. Right now you need to save Daemon, the guy you got into this mess.
Right as usual, little voice.
My ire would have to wait. I had a trade to make.
ASH
For the first time since I’d known Bernie, I wanted to punch him. I was so bloody pissed. But common sense, the bitch that he is, kept whispering in my ear, telling me to chill out and ride it.
We entered a room through a nondescript door and walked smack bang into a torture session.
For a moment, I was completely gobsmacked. My eyes took in the scene, but my brain refused to compute. I saw blood and ripped skin, and then I saw the audience with smiles and grins and laughter. I barely registered Bernie’s hand on my elbow, or the curse that fell from his lips. They’d started already.
They were hurting Daemon.
The big guy that, until a day ago, had made my knees knock with nerves, was on the ground, on his knees, hands shackled in front of him, head bowed as the tiny bitch whipped the shit out of his back. He flinched but didn’t make a sound. Blood sprayed, and the gathered council nobles cheered.
This was a sport to them. Nothing but a sport. But it meant so much more to me. Every lash ripped at my heart, every flinch fuelled the rage wrapped in darkness that was coiled in my chest. I took a step forward, my teeth clenched. Bernie tightened his grip on my elbow. Brialla laid another blow, and Daemon lifted his head. I must have made a sound, a gasp, something, because his gaze fixed itself in my direction, and what I saw in those striking eyes had the darkness in my chest unfurling.
“What the fuck is wrong with you people?” I said.
Bernie pulled me toward him, but I shook him off, the rage bubbling up through my skin. He dropped my arm as if burned. I stepped into the room and slid to the ground before Daemon. I reached for his face, my fingers about to graze his skin when I caught movement in the periphery of my vision. I reacted without thought; my hand whipping up to catch the tail end of the whip wielded by Brialla. I wrapped it around my wrist and slowly raised my gaze to meet hers.
Her face was stony and tight, eyes chips of granite boring into me. “Bernie, what is the meaning of this?”
“Brialla, I apologise for my guest’s behaviour. I—”
“Don’t apologise for me!” I dropped the end of the whip and stood up, making sure to pull myself to my full height, making sure I looked down on her.
“How dare you interrupt my entertainment!” Brialla yelled.
“How dare you be such a bitch,” I said.
A collective gasp filled the air and Brialla’s already pale skin went even paler. Bernie audibly groaned, and I think I heard Daemon swear. By this time, I knew I’d taken a huge leap over the etiquette line, left it far behind in the dust, actually. Clay’s voice was screaming inside my head, telling me to backtrack, save the situation, but my pulse was racing, and the rage was pressing up behind my eyeballs. I couldn’t think straight. My mouth seemed to have a mind of its own.
“You’d think creatures who call themselves nobles would be able to find more sophisticated, intellectual pastimes, rather than revelling in someone else’s pain. You’d think they’d have more pressing things on their agenda than mutilation. You’d think they’d be more concerned with the desperate state of their Aether mines than how much they can make a Hellion bleed.”
“Our mines are none of you concern.”
“No. They aren’t. I have a good mind to walk out of here and leave you in the shit, ’cos once those mines are gone, so is your leverage over the other realms.”
“You speak as if you have a solution, human,” a noble man with dark eyes and even darker hair said.
“I do.”
“Pfft! A mere ploy to escape my wrath,”
Brialla said. “Guards!”
Hellions appeared out of nowhere, surrounding us. They kept their gazes fixed on me, never looking down at the battered body of their brethren.
“Brialla, wait! Hear her out,” Bernie said.
“You do not get to speak to me, Bernie. We accepted you as one of our own as a courtesy to Valla. We allowed you a seat on the council—”
“Now hang on a second, you didn’t allow me anything, you’re not even on the council!” And just like that, there she was, my Bernie. I caught sight of her in the flare of the new Bernie’s nostrils, in the flash of his eyes. How could I ever have thought she was lost to me?
“I may not be on the council, but I could have raised objection to Valla’s will if I’d so been inclined.”
“And you would have been ignored,” the dark-eyed noble said. He stepped forward, cutting Brialla off and blocking her from view. He towered over me by a good two feet. “Tell us your solution, human. If you have one.”
This was it, the moment to make my trade. I raised my arms and winced as something latched onto my leg. I looked down to see Daemon’s hand wrapped around my calf.
“Ashling.” He didn’t raise his head, but his warning was clear. Fear fluttered behind my ribcage, but I had to do this. I couldn’t leave Daemon and Bernie had promised his protection. I just had to hope he’d follow through.
I took a breath and ripped off the gloves, exposing my markings.
The silence that followed was interrupted only by another colourful curse from Daemon.
Brialla dropped the whip and Bernie crossed the room to stand beside me. The dark-eyed noble’s eyes lit up, and then he covered his spark of interest with a nonchalant expression.
“I assume you want something in return?”
I nodded and pointed at Daemon. “I want him.”
“No!” Brialla said.
I raised my brows. “No? Seriously? You’d rather keep him than free your mines?”
Brialla opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. It was Dark Eyes that answered for her.
“You may have the abomination in payment for your services.”
“What?” Brialla turned on him. “You have no right!”
He looked down his nose at her. “I had thought you had matured enough to take a council seat, Brialla, but I see now that I was sadly mistaken.”
Brialla did that going pale thing again, her hand coming up to hover at her throat.
“Bastion, please, of course, I’m merely overcome. I . . . Daemon was one of my favourites, and to have him home and then taken away again . . . surely you can appreciate my devastation.”
“No more than the devastation of every noble in this realm should the mines cease to be accessible.”
I wanted to applaud, but it probably wasn’t the best idea, so I made fists with my hands instead.
Brialla swallowed, her evil eyes calculating her next move. I caught the exact moment she figured out her next ploy—the tiny quirk of her pouty lips. “I’m simply astounded that we’ve resorted to trading with humans. They are so beneath us. It seems dirty somehow. Of course, her ability will come in useful, but why trade for it? Why not just force her to work for us?”
Shit, this is exactly what Daemon had been afraid of. This was where Bernie came in. I glanced in his direction, but his gaze was fixed on the ground, his brow furrowed.
I could see the scales tipping in Brialla’s favour. If Bernie didn’t follow through on his promise of protection soon, I’d probably be spending the rest of my life in a cage.
It wasn’t Bernie who saved me, however, it was Daemon. His voice raw and gravelly, a mere husk of its usual rich self. “It doesn’t work that way, Brialla. You can’t make her consume the Shadows. It has to be voluntary. You can’t control what she is. I should know. I spent the better part of a century doing what she can now do. Take the offer. It’s Inferna’s only hope.”
“You would say that! You’d say anything to escape me!” Brialla lunged toward him, but Dark Eyes, who I now knew was called Bastion, cut her off with a well-placed arm.
Brialla’s chest heaved as she struggled to regain her composure. She smoothed back her hair and painted a smile on her luscious lips. “You were a Dream Eater, you and the other two chosen. You consumed dreams, not Shadows, and it took three of you to do it. Not to mention, you aren’t human.”
“The Shadows were once dreams,” Daemon said.
“Yes, so everyone keeps saying.” Brialla sniffed. “I don’t hold with that theory, but let’s say, for argument’s sake, that they are. It took three of you to keep the Shadowlands safe before, what assurance can you give that your little human will be able to clear a whole mine of Shadows all by her lonesome?”
Her words struck a chord within me. I mean, she had a point. So far, I’d managed to consume two Shadows. Two. That was the extent of my experience, and here I was offering to walk into a mine filled with god knew how many.
Some of what I was thinking must have shown on my face because Brialla’s eyes lit up with glee.
Bitch.
The council members began to murmur in their own language, and I could feel the scales tipping in her favour again. I had to do something!
“I know I can do it. Besides, what have you got to lose by letting me try, aside from an abomination that only one of you actually want?”
The nobles broke into chatter again, and I really wished I could understand what the hell they were saying.
Bastion held up his hand. “Enough, the council will convene to reach a decision.” He turned his attention to me. “In the meantime, please remain here. I’ll have someone bring up some refreshment.”
“What about Daemon?”
Bastion tilted his chin at one of the Hellion guards; a seven-foot crimson male, wearing shimmering scalelike armour. He approached, and I realised it wasn’t armour but actual scales that covered his body. “Take the abomination and get him cleaned up.”
Shit happened quick from then on. The room emptied out until it was just me and a male Hellion guard. Brialla pissed off in a huff, Bernie went off with the council, and Daemon was taken to get “cleaned up.” I hoped that ‘cleaned up’ wasn’t code for sliced and diced.
A female Hellion brought me a plate of finger foods and a goblet of something that smelled yummy, but my stomach was doing a nervous jig. I couldn’t think about eating. Instead, I took in my surroundings, looking for routes of escape. There were some huge drapes on the far wall I assumed were covering an equally huge window. Plush sofas and thick rugs, interesting colourful paintings in gilded frames decorated the wall, and fancy-looking jugs stood in the corner of the room as some kind of strange ornamentation.
I really needed a pee, and if the Hellion hadn’t been standing there, then one of those jugs would have come in very handy. Instead, I mentally crossed my legs and wandered over to the drapes. Maybe they hid some doors onto a lawn? We were still on the ground floor. We hadn’t climbed any stairs. Possible escape route, perhaps, if things went south. I pulled back the drapes and froze.
The moon stared at me, hanging large in the sky. The world was way down below me, a landscape of grey and silver hills, plains, and rivers and all that kind of stuff. How the hell had we gotten so high up?
A breeze slapped me in the face. I gulped in a huge gust and then screamed as something huge and scaly flew past the window. I stumbled back into the room and stood there, trembling.
“What the hell was that?” I asked the Hellion.
His mouth twitched but he stayed silent.
“Oh, come on. There’s no one here. Please?”
He pressed his lips together.
“Fine, be like that. We could be stuck in here for ages. A little conversation would make time go by so much quicker, don’t you think?”
Still nothing.
I sighed. “Fine, if you’re not gonna talk, then I’ll speak for the both of us, but don’t blame me if you come off sounding really stupid.”
Silence.
“Fine, well, let’s see. My name’s Ashling, Ash to my friends. I have a twin brother named Clay, who thinks I’m dead. People I care about are starving, while so far everyone I have encountered on this side of the Horizon is spoilt for choice when it comes to meals.”
I put on a deep voice, something Hellionish. “Seems like only the humans got shafted by the big catastrophe that befell our realms.”
“Yeah, funny isn’t it?” I said in my normal voice.
“For us, yes, not so much for your people.”
“Wow! That’s just mean.”
The Hellion’s eyes shifted to lock on me, his brow furrowed slightly. I could tell he really wanted to engage but was probably under strict orders not to do so.
“Yep, makes me wonder why you call it a catastrophe. Aside from your Shadow problem, you guys seem fine. My people are stuck in a dying world, unable to move over here because your people would simply add them to your menu. We’re just cattle to you, prey to be hunted, traded, and used.” An idea was forming in my mind. My heart rate kicked up as a wonderful possibility unfurled in my head, a way to stop the suffering without endangering my people.
The door the council party and Bernie had vanished through earlier opened. Bernie stepped through, his expression solemn.
“Seriously? What is there to deliberate? I thought they needed the Aether,” I said.
Bernie shot a quick sideways glance toward the Hellion before moving in closer. He leaned in so his lips were close to my ear. “It’s not your abilities that are in question, it’s whether there’s a way to coerce you to work with them for free.”
“Blackmail?”
“Something like that. Infernans don’t like to give unless they absolutely have to.”
“And what could they possibly use to blackmail me with?”
“Daemon’s life.”
Fuck. Would I risk my freedom for Daemon’s life?
Don’t be stupid, of course you wouldn’t. He is not your problem.
This was a new voice, one that sounded very much like my own.
Yes, you would. He risked his life coming here to help you, the least you can do is return the favour.
Shadow Reaper Page 23
