Our limited days. If we exit the game, we will age. Though immortality beckons?
His hand is covered with icons, there for the taking. I disguise my greed as I count them.
With a proud mien, he twirls my new ring on my finger. A symbol of ownership? I can view it no other way since men of his culture do not require one, just as livestock do not brand their masters.
To me, the ring is as detestable as a collar, and that I cannot abide! When I taste bile, my path becomes clearer: I crave his icons more than I do his breathtaking body.
As he leans down to kiss my neck, I ask, “Will you fetch me wine for my nerves, my love?” I muster a teasing smile. “In this, I’m an anxious innocent.”
He inhales, quelling his eagerness, though it roils from him. His manly needs, his lusts. “As you wish.”
He turns his back to the Empress. How trusting. How foolish. The heat of battle rises, taking me over. Without a whisper of hesitation, I slip soundlessly from the bed.
Before he can react, I shove my poisonous claws into him, hissing in his ear, “Till Death do us part.”
I woke with tears streaming down my face.
Husband. He was my husband. And I had betrayed him.
Somehow he’d survived my poison. Somehow he’d gotten the upper hand and ended me.
“Forced me to kill my bride,” he’d said with such pain in his starry gaze. No wonder he hated me—he had every right to! How could I have been so evil?
It was one thing to battle an enemy, to fight and prevail; quite another to exchange sacred vows with someone you had every intention of murdering that very night.
No wonder I’d had no chance of seducing him. I don’t handle vipers. He’d learned not to trust, he’d learned so young.
All his hardness, his ruthlessness, had been honed by me.
That Empress had seen only his hungers. She’d ignored the tenderness in his expressions, the warmth in his eyes as he’d beheld her. He had intended to make her happy.
To make me happy.
Yet even when blind to all he offered, that woman had fallen for him. She’d just refused to admit it.
Could I?
Suddenly my feelings for him were clamoring, too big for my chest. I felt like his wife. I needed to explain to him that I would never betray him. But he remained away. Leaving me alone in his bed.
Return to me, Aric.
Silence. Too much silence. I didn’t want to be alone right now. Dashing my sleeve over my face, I hurried from the room, startling Cyclops. Together we climbed up one flight of stairs to Lark’s bedroom.
A light knock. I had no idea what time it was.
Lark opened the door, rubbing her eyes. “What’s up, girl?” She wore a football jersey and leggings. A baby squirrel peeked its sleepy eyes from her mane of black hair.
“C-can I come in?”
When she swung her door wide, I entered. In all this time, I’d never been to her room. It was just as I might’ve pictured it—posters of animals plastered the walls, cages and aquariums lining shelves. Her falcon rested on a wooden perch next to her bed like an alarm clock. She had a tiger lamp, kangaroo sheets, and a thick smattering of live butterflies coating the high ceiling.
I knew there were no monarchs. Months ago, Matthew had told me that the last two were thousands of miles apart and flying away from each other. Again, I felt gratitude that Lark was caretaking these treasures. Still, I couldn’t let her think I’d softened toward her too much. “Kangaroo sheets, Lark?”
“Dude. Don’t judge me,” she said without anger.
My presence had agitated some of her menagerie, but a single wave of her hand quieted mewls and caws. “So you wanna talk about it?” She climbed back in bed, scooting a snoring hedgehog from her pillow.
Did I? Where to even begin? As I sorted through my thoughts, I crossed to her bay window, staring out into the stormy night.
Somewhere out there both Aric and Jack roamed the world. Jack had broken my heart, and I’d broken Aric’s. “Did you know Death and I were involved in a previous game? Married?”
“Um, some cards speculated.”
“I just dreamed about it. About how he used to be.”
“I tried to tell you he’s not all bad,” Lark said. “From what I understand, you kinda put him to shame on the evil front. Like judges’ scores of ten.”
“I did. Nothing could be worse than what I did,” I murmured.
“Once he gets back, you two kids can work things out. I’m confident about that. You’ve seen the way he looks at you when you dance, right? Well, you can’t imagine how he looks at you when you aren’t aware. You’re still a lock.”
I sighed, not convinced. There was so much in our past to be overcome. When lightning flashed, I said over my shoulder, “I never see lightning without thinking of Joules.”
“I know, right? At least he doesn’t want to off you.”
“For now.” I turned back to the window just as another bolt struck. Lightning forked out over black. Greenish-yellow forked out over red?
My breath caught. Slitted black eyes stared back at me.
Ogen.
42
“FEAST! OFFERING!”
“Lark!” I screamed. “Run—”
“SABBAT!” Ogen’s mighty fist burst through the window. Glass shattered, riddling me as his fist connected with my entire torso.
Lark was shrieking when I slammed into the far wall. Bones fractured. Skull? Ribs? Shoulder blade? Shards jutted from my skin. Unable to rise, I watched Ogen snatch at Lark as the wolves defended, tearing at his arms. This far across the room, she and I were out of his reach.
Though I expected her to flee, following the exodus of creatures tromping and flying to safety, she darted over to me, helping me stand. She’d caught a lot of glass too.
Ogen twisted his great bulk, wedging himself through the window opening. “ALTAR EMPTY!” he boomed. “FRESH ENTRAILS.”
Recognition hit my panicked mind. In his own way, Matthew had warned me of this. The lightning hides the monster. I’d just glimpsed Ogen by the light of a bolt. And Matthew had given me instructions: You must slice yourself when the altar is empty. Ogen’s altar was empty; it was time to lose my cuff.
I whispered to Lark, “T-take me to the basement. To the sunlamps.”
“Shit, shit! Boss’ll kill me.” But she did start out the doorway, whistling for her wolves to follow. She yelled to Ogen, “Hey, dickwad, meet me in the kitchen!”
“MEAT YOU!” he yowled, withdrawing from the window so quickly the building shook.
With my arm stretched across her shoulders, we scrambled away, heading in the direction opposite to the kitchen, a trio of wolves at our heels. As we fled upstairs, I gasped out, “What’s happening?”
“It’s some Sabbat that I’m not aware of,” she murmured. “Could be some big annual one.”
We lurched up more stairs, a flight that I didn’t remember seeing before.
“I’ve never seen him so big, Evie. I’ve called for reinforcements from the barn, but it might take them a while to follow my instructions to pick the lock.” We careened along a corridor until she stopped in front of a wall.
She pressed her hand against the wainscoting, and a panel swung open. Just before it hissed closed behind our troupe, her falcon gave a piercing cry and dove inside.
In total darkness, I was again forced to rely on Lark’s night vision as we hastened down flight after flight of stairs. Had we gone up, just to go down into the belly of this building?
The air grew humid, our surroundings quieter. I couldn’t hear the rain, only paws padding behind us, wings flapping, and my bones grinding as they began to reset themselves.
I called for Aric. We’re in trouble—you have to return! No answer. I even called for Matthew. Nothing.
“Just hold on, Evie. We’re here.” She propped me against a wall.
I heard a key jangling in a lock, then the sound of a wheel turning, like with a bank vault. With a click, a door groaned open, and light spilled into the landing where we stood.
Warm light.
I was dumbfounded by the sight in front of me. As big as Warehouse 13, and filled with table after table of growing plants. Sunlamps covered every inch of soaring ceiling, cascading light onto my thirsty skin.
Lark locked us and her creatures inside. “This door might not keep Ogen out when he’s in this form.” Leaning back against it, she pulled a shard from her hip. She was bleeding from the glass almost as badly as I was. “I’ll leave the falcon here to listen for him. Let’s get to the back.”
As Lark and I set off across the bunker, wolves in tow, I soaked up the light, feeling my brain starting to fire again. I plucked shards from my own skin, my regeneration accelerating.
We passed rows of plants, like orderly battalions. There were potted vines and even saplings. They wouldn’t be as strong as giant oaks or as stealthy as my weapon of choice: roses. Still, this was a decent army—if I could reclaim my powers.
Ogen would find us down here eventually; I only hoped I could lay a trap before then. “Lark, I need a really sharp knife.” Or, depending on time . . . “Maybe an ax?” It’ll grow back.
“Gee, forgot both of mine in the rush.” She peered around the garden. “I can get you a spade. Or a trowel.”
I gazed down at her claws, dreading what I knew must happen. “You’ve cut through skin before, right? With your claws?”
“Oh, hell, no. Don’t even think about this, Evie.”
“Believe me, I’m open to alternatives.”
“Boss is supposed to be back today. Maybe he’ll get here in time?”
“Willing to bet your life on that?” I snatched her hand. “You help me get this cuff off, or we die.”
She gazed at me as if awed. “You are stone-cold, aren’t you?”
“No. Not at all. But I’ll still get you to cut on me.”
By the time we’d reached a back corner, I’d gotten her to give in.
“Fine!” She flared her claws. “Tell me what you want.”
I explained how she needed to slice the skin above and below the cuff, along the edges, like she was tracing around a Solo cup. The barbs were in too deep for the metal piece to be slipped down my arm, so I figured we’d just work that circle of skin down too. Easy, peasy. Oh, and we’d do this while excising my bicep. So a couple more slices on each side of the muscle, please.
I yanked off my sweater, twisting the sleeve for something to bite down on, because I’d seen that before in a movie.
When I stuffed the material between my teeth, she raised her scalpel-sharp foreclaw. “This is so messed up.” With her pupils the size of saucers, she began to cut around the cuff.
The pain made my eyes water, but I nodded for her to keep going.
Once she’d made all the cuts to my skin, blood was streaming, making everything slippery. I was growing so delirious that I thought I saw a flicker of enjoyment in her eyes. Red of tooth and claw.
But when I looked closer at her face, all I saw was queasy paleness.
I drew the material from my mouth. “You have t-to hurry,” I choked out. “With this much green and light . . . I’ll heal right up. When I pull the cuff higher, you slip beneath and”—my voice quavered—“yank on the muscle. Quick.” Back in went the sweater sleeve.
With an unsteady nod, she used her claws to get a good pincer hold of the slick muscle, then began her gruesome task.
Through gushing tears, I stared up at the ceiling, feeling pressure, pain, pressure, pain! I shrieked against my sweater. As if he’d heard even that muted sound, Ogen bellowed from somewhere above, bounding through the manor.
“We’re done with that part.” Why was she swaying so much? Or was that me? Delirious. Stay conscious, stay conscious. She started pulling down on the cuff.
Oh, God, the barbs! I vomited in my mouth, choking it back. My legs tottered as I tried to give her a counterforce.
Almost to my elbow, almost . . .
The metal came free in a rush of blood, hitting the floor with a bounce. Done! Shuddering, I spat out my sweater, then rested my good arm on a plant shelf. As I leaned over, I narrowed my eyes at the grisly sight of the cuff. The barbs looked like roots growing into my former skin.
Lark tore the hem of her jersey, using the material to tie a bandage around my mutilated, limp arm.
Good. Didn’t want to see it.
“I can’t believe we did that! Now don’t mummify me in vine, ’kay?”
Freed, I commanded everything to grow. Despite my injuries, I was brimming with power.
Conserve? I had for months.
My army obeyed so quickly, I could hear their skittering spurts. As stalks, stems, and leaves sprang to life, Lark’s eyes darted. “This is so disturbing.”
“So were your cobras.”
“What’s the game plan?” she asked.
“We’ll have to behead Ogen, right?” At her nod, I said, “To reach us back here, he’ll have to fight his way through a jungle, getting weaker and weaker. I’ll hold him in place while your wolves tear at his softer belly. After we force him to the ground, we’ll use their fangs to sever his neck.”
“Okay. They know the program.”
Somewhere above us, he roared, “I smell pretty MEAT.”
“He’s coming, Lark. Use my blood. Get it on any leaves you can. It’ll make them even stronger. I’ll create a last barrier to defend us.”
She dropped down to flatten her palms in the puddle at my feet. Patty-cake. Delirious.
“Our blood is mixing like crazy.” She rose to flick her coated fingers. Crimson on green. “Like we’re blood sisters. Think that’ll give me an extra life in this battle?”
“I have no idea.” While my barricade thickened, I spied something along the back wall . . .
A rosebush. My lips curved. Oh, Aric, you shouldn’t have.