Soulless (Maiden of Time Book 2) (10 page)

Eighteen

Deal with the Devil

“I will bring your enemies down so quickly you have no chance to contemplate the waiting hell!” Kiren shouted, trembling.

 A raucous smile widened across the Soulless skeleton’s face. “I believe we have an agreement.”

“Swear it!” Kiren’s muscles coiled. Alexia’s face was draining from peachy to porcelain, the very life seeping through the slit in her neck. Red hazed at the corners of his vision.

“On my eternal soul, you shall have her, as she is.” Amos turned to his lackeys. “Release him.”

Kiren jerked free, adrenaline coursing through his system. He slid a fist around the chain he wore, the weight that had been his far too long. He fought to steady his shaking hands, to not tear the chain links free. He lifted the charm.

Cloaked creatures fell back.

“Careful now.” The Soulless leader cringed, crimson pupils wide as he dug the blade into her neck.

Rage blinded Kiren. Power surged up through every nerve, shaking his frame. He stomped. The ground trembled. Trees shuddered and leaned away.

The Soulless shrank into the woods, all but Amos. He stood firm, blade half an inch from permanently severing Alexia’s airway.

“You are going to lose her.” The hiss sent chilling shockwaves through Kiren’s veins.

Not much longer. She had seconds, seconds and he would be too late.

Kiren lifted the chain, pendant dangling.

Sickly fingers opened wide to receive it. Kiren seized the medallion in one hand and shoved it into the palm of the thief.

The creature shrieked. Wisps of smoke rose from its charring bone in a sickly-sweet aroma.

“This does not belong to you, nor will it ever,” Kiren spat. “I will be coming for it.” He let go, snatching the sword in the same instant.

Wind whooshed into the grove—either Lester’s arrival or Ethel’s movement—but Kiren didn’t have time to confirm which. Beings tumbled over one another, trying to escape. Alexia collapsed in his arms. He clasped the neck-wound, inhaling as the life pulsed from his body into hers... 

Nineteen

Running

A choked breath penetrated the silence.

Fire!

Fire against her skin! 

Magma encased her, consuming her flesh until nothing remained but the sparkles behind her eyes. She breathed.

The sparkles glimmered into butterflies that flitted up and down her arm. She wanted to bat them away so she could sleep. They became angry bugs, biting into her skin.

“Alexia?”

She opened her eyes. A blurry outline hung above her, silhouetted by a leafy awning and snatches of sky. She squinted against the light. An arm slipped around her back and neck, lifting her upper body.

His countenance solidified into a straight nose that flared erratically, high cheeks, a jagged white scar.

“Alexia.”

That this angelic being spoke her name made her happy, and then she remembered he was hers.

She threw her arms around his neck and he enwrapped her. Her entire body hummed for joy. He squeezed too tightly. She tugged at his shoulder, and his lips pressed into the crook of her neck. Alexia sucked in a breath, startled by the sudden intimacy and sparks of desire launching through her.

Lester harrumphed. She blinked up at him, standing a few paces back, scowling. He kicked at the forest shrubbery, rubbing his neck. Ethel stood beside him, both her hands clasped tight together, brows high in worry.

Alexia’s entire body heated. She pushed Kiren back, but he caught her face, cradling it, rubbing her blazing cheeks, eyes consuming her in the pressing waves. They choked out all but the heat of his flesh pressed to hers, and a deepening need so vast it made the ocean feel small.

She smiled at him in confusion. He pressed his mouth to hers, bruising her, parting her lips.

She gasped. This was no innocent thing, but a kiss meant only to happen behind closed doors. She wanted to stop him, too aware of their audience, but he delved deeper and suddenly she no longer cared. She wrapped herself around him, fingers gliding up into his hair. The tension eased out of his shoulders as he rounded into her, pressing her closer.

He pulled away. Bright red smears stained the ivory embroidery of his suit coat and frock.

Her fingers flew to her neck. She drew a hand down her neck and bodice, horrified by the sticky dampness on her fingers, her wedding dress ruined, her very life almost...

Alexia turned her head. She couldn’t face him, not in light of what had just transpired. “The pendant...” she whispered through a raw throat.

He caught her cheeks, turning her to him.

She focused on his ruined shirt, searching with her fingers for the chain that should be hidden there. No metal links bulged beneath his soiled vest. She bit back a cry. “What have you done?”

Kiren traced Alexia’s jaw, mouth stretched tight in a frown.

She grabbed his hand and turned it over, her own blood glistening across his palm. “This is my doing—”

He lifted her to her feet, his breath hot across her cheek, lips tight and angry. They parted, and she expected chastisement, but he closed them again. His eyes softened into a starry night sky so tender, she was afloat. “No worries, love. Everything will be set aright.”

She was grateful for the words, but her heart swelled with guilt. It was only because of her he was in this position. If she had been strong enough to do something more than stop time...

And what of the others they’d abandoned? “Father. Where is Father?”

“Safe in Nelly’s care,” Lester growled.

“We are best on a quick offensive.” Ethel’s fingers writhed together. “They are only a few miles out.”

“You have an army in yer pocket?” Lester’s head shook. “We ain’t so invincible as before. We should bring in Elizabeth North and Mi—”

“Agreed.” Kiren lifted a hand. “And if Elizabeth proves stubborn, remind her that she owes me a life debt.”

Lester saluted. “On my way.”

“Ethel, you will assist Lester.” Kiren met the woman’s stare.

“Of course.” She dipped in a shallow curtsy before swirling into a cyclone of mist and disappearing.

Alexia took a deep breath, raking at the rawness of her airway. “This is because of me. I will help you retrieve the medallion, no matter the cost.”

He crossed his arms.

She grabbed his shoulders. “I will not be your weakness. Do you understand me?” She shook him. “Either you will utilize my strengths, or—” Or what? She was far too weak to be of help to anyone. It would be best if she had never come into his life, never unmasked this vulnerability. She hated what had happened to him—to all of the Passionate—because she had been vain enough, foolish enough to embrace these desires. Had he ever been so vulnerable before his enemies? Had the Passionate ever been so vulnerable before the Soulless? She squared herself. “Or I shall banish myself from you.”

He looked away. “We have much ground to cover.”

“Kiren.”

He took both her hands and leaned down so their eyes were level, his burning. “You are to be my wife. Do you understand that?”

Her heart sped. His wife. She would belong to him, and solely him.

“No wishing, no silly thoughts of separation are going to
change that—nor do I wish it so. You are the only thing I cannot lose, and the one thing they
will
target.” He bit his lip. “Already I have failed you.”

She shook her head, reaching for his cheek.

He drew a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped it across her neck. “It seems I condemn everything I care about.”

“Kiren, stop.” She grabbed his wrist. He met her gaze, his eyes startlingly vulnerable. “I will be your wife.” She smiled with all the joy she had experienced but an hour ago.

Crashing pulled her around. Kiren’s silvery stallion darted between trees, Edward low on its back.

Alexia laid her head against Kiren’s shoulder. “You have not failed me. You saved my life, and I am only sorry I could not be strong when you needed me to be.”

Kiren’s arms wrapped around her, lips tickling her ear.

The horse skidded to a halt, tearing moss, prancing back a step or two and throwing its ivory mane. Edward dropped out of the saddle and handed the reins over. Kiren retrieved her sword, the very blade still stained in her blood, and aided Alexia onto the beast. He nodded a farewell to Edward, and mounted behind Alexia.

Twenty

Success

Amos pulled back the canvas and shivered. Energy pulsed off the metal, stinging his chin like the icy rays of a polar sun. He squinted, eyes watering. Even dimmed as they were by the ages, the power burned.

Hissing voices echoed through the cave, reminding him of those waiting. Nervous chatter.

Carefully, he rewrapped the prize, binding it shut with twine. Its buzz carried through the heavy canvas and rattled into his frame. Even with the stability of his many centuries, the bones of his fingers clicked while pulling at the string. 

How many hundred years had they sought this prize? He’d succeeded. He was the only one who could claim victory, even if he had to admit the aid of a Passionate traitor, the child who had directed him to their point of ambush, the girl who strangely did not fear him.

He carefully laid the treasure atop two similar wrappings inside a satchel, decoys. Four other bags sat by, filled and ready with similar counterfeits. They would detain the factions of the Passionate, leading the groups in a wild chase. He hated to let this precious prize out of his control, but it was the only way to ensure its safety.

“Come now!” he called.

Five trusted allies entered the space, blacking out the light of day. He gazed into the decaying face of one then another, recalling the many years he had fought, scrounged and survived alongside each of them.

“You each know your task.”

They nodded.

“Make your deliveries, and then we must deaden your minds so no one will perceive our plan at the sun’s setting.” That magic moment when their minds would unify, when their kind would be integrated in a cumulative hunger.

His lackeys stiffened. The youngest shifted from foot to foot, focused on the ground.

Amos lifted an amber vial. Its contents caught the sun and warmed like the nectar of the gods. “People
will
come after you. Upon delivery, drink this immediately.” 

Joseph stepped forward, skeletal hand extended, two finger tips missing where the ligaments had completely decayed. He had been but twenty and three, the young father of three beautiful girls when he’d been taken by the Soulless in rural France. Now, five-hundred years later, he was the only one Amos truly trusted.

And Kingdom knew that.

Or at least, they would.

Amos repressed a grin as he handed over the poison, the strongest dose, to his friend. Four decoys to draw off the other factions and Soulless, one to lure Kingdom. He issued a satchel to each and dismissed them, all but Joseph. He grabbed his friend’s arm as the others left the cave. “Yours is the one,” he hissed.

Crimson pupils widened. Joseph’s mouth cracked wide, head shaking.

Amos smirked. “Fly like a raven, my friend.”

He watched the five disappear through the trees, each a different direction. A chill washed over his skin, the dense moisture of a traveling cloud.

“You are ready to play your part?” he asked.

The girl materialized next to him. “Are you?” Her soprano sent the hairs on his neck standing.

He nodded.

Her lips twisted up in a sneer-grin so wicked it ought to belong to Lucifer himself.