Текст книги "Throne of the Fallen"

Автор книги: Kerri Maniscalcol

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Текущая страница: 28 (всего у книги 35 страниц)

“Dress quickly.” Envy summoned their clothing, then turned to give Camilla privacy.

“I sense Abyssus waiting for us.”

FIFTY-FIVE

CAMILLA STARED DOWN at her clothing, shaking her head.

Envy had magicked more than what she’d been wearing, improving upon her clothes for their next destination. He really thought of everything.

A long-sleeved dress, a delicate slip, undergarments, thick stockings, and a velvet cloak were folded neatly at her feet.

Silken slippers had also been replaced by sturdy boots. Supple leather, butter-soft, and finely crafted. Her ring and necklace sparkled in the strange glow of the Shallows.

She pulled her clothes on, stealing looks at the prince as she did so. He stood fully clothed with his back to her, ramrod-straight, muscles taut, tension radiating around him.

Gone was the male who’d surprised her by accepting her dance in the magical water, holding her close and humming softly. The cold, remote Prince of Hell had returned.

Focused, ruthless. Attention fixed only on his game.

Camilla wondered whether Envy even realized he’d been humming a tune for them to dance to. For a few precious moments, he’d seemed completely at ease. It was the first time she’d ever seen him so relaxed.

He’d been even more tightly wound after their night had come to an end. Like he was fighting some invisible foe Camilla couldn’t see. But in the Shallows, in a place where they clearly couldn’t lie, he’d been free.

No scheming or plotting, no hiding behind cool arrogance or indifference.

She’d only meant to start their dance as a game. But he’d pulled her closer, like it was the one moment he’d permit himself to take what he wanted. To show a softness he’d never let anyone see. He’d cradled her against his body simply because he wished to hold her.

It would have been far easier if he’d tried to kiss or seduce her.

Even with his insistence about his one-night rule, Camilla would understand his admitting to wanting to take her hard and fast in the water, unleashing his carnal nature, setting a punishing pace for breaking his rule.

Passion and lust were simple, animalistic urges. Completely natural. Uncomplicated.

His softness was much more dangerous than those sharp edges.

Camilla could snuggle into that tenderness, let her guard drop, realizing too late that she’d been carved open far deeper. She’d bleed out before she knew she’d been cut.

They both needed to realize that one night was all they’d get. Because as much as he seemed to fear another night for his own reasons, Camilla needed to protect her heart.

She would regain her stolen talent from the game master, then return to Waverly Green. She’d cuddle Bunny and give her extra treats and warm cream to make up for leaving her. Envy would restore his court, then continue with his games here.

Sometimes two people weren’t meant to be more than one moment. Wondrous and unforgettable though it might be, not all good things were meant to last.

“Ready?” he asked, still facing forward.

As if they weren’t far beyond modesty with each other.

As if they hadn’t been inside each other’s skin.

Each time he tried so hard to put up a wall between them, it made her want to batter into it, remind him that they did share more than a casual encounter. Even if it wasn’t for more than a few hours, it was still something worth appreciating.

“Almost.”

Camilla tugged her boots on, then finished with her ring and necklace. She wasn’t sure what had made her take the ring earlier—it was only meant to be used in Waverly Green, to convince society they were betrothed. It certainly didn’t symbolize that here.

They’d slept together. And while it was an incredible night of passion, that was in the past now. It would never happen again. He’d made it clear his rule still stood. And Camilla was all right with that, more than all right. She wanted uncomplicated, and Envy was anything but.

Yet the ring… Camilla liked it. That was all. When their time together ended, she’d give it back.

Fully dressed, she strode to where he waited, leaving their moment of tenderness behind with the Crescent Shallows.

He looked her over. “Stay behind me. If Abyssus takes an interest, you’re to return to the Shallows immediately. Do not let it touch you.”

Camilla opened her mouth to respond, then shut it.

“Touching is half the fun, Prince.”

Envy hadn’t been the one to speak.

The male voice was not nightmarish. It didn’t sound demonic. Or rough. There weren’t many layers screeching together, no clicking of tongues or smacking of teeth.

No growls or roars.

It spoke in a silken purr, a low murmur that curled around your senses, rubbed against them like a house cat seeking affection. And was far more dangerous for it.

Envy pressed her behind him.

“I have a gift from the queen,” he said, holding up the vial.

“What care do I have for kings or queens?” Abyssus asked. “Perhaps I seek company. Conversation. A taste of emotion, a kiss of skin. Perhaps I crave oblivion.”

Camilla did not like any of those options, least especially the last few.

If Envy responded, she would never know.

The world suddenly vanished as if it had never been there at all. There was no cave, no ground or walls or ceiling, no tunnel. No Envy. No ancient, sweet-voiced creature.

Camilla was alone. Completely. It was solitude in a way she’d never experienced—there was always some form of life. Whether it was grass or clouds or sky. Birds chirping, bugs buzzing, wind blowing softly through leaves. She’d never realized how much life there was all around her, always.

Here was… empty.

No earth. No stone. Nothing. Vast, unending, nothingness, stretching in every direction, swallowing everything. Worse than the void outside realms, this was heavy and oppressive.

“Hello?” she called, voice echoing into nothing.

Nothing responded. She wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or more frightened at that.

She took a step forward, hands outstretched, searching. It was like walking through space, except there were no stars lighting the sky. No form beneath her feet.

Her heart pounded.

She could be falling or standing still, nothing registered.

Once, when her father had passed away and her mother was long gone, she’d thought she was all alone. Then Wolf came and reminded her there was another path, another choice laid out for her to take. Before that, there’d been a time she’d wished for solitude. A way to escape from the world. Had she ever truly grasped what that could be?

This place was fear. Infinite. Solitude beyond what any creature should have to know.

“This isn’t real,” she whispered. “I’m in a cavern. Below House Wrath.”

Camilla squeezed her eyes shut, knowing it had to be an illusion.

Some powerful magic or glamour. Closing her eyes or keeping them open made no difference, everything remained the same, unchanged, endless dark.

“This isn’t real,” she whispered again, hating the tremble in her voice.

“What is reality? If it feels real, looks real, is it not so?”

Abyssus suddenly was there, holding a ball of glowing light in his palm. She squinted at the blazing light, eyes stinging. Once she adjusted to the glow, she could see the being in all his glory. He certainly didn’t look like a monster. His skin was golden, his hair the same luminous shade as his skin. He wore a white toga, showing a powerful, sculpted body.

Abyssus looked like a sun god, bound to the Underworld. Wholly out of place.

Except for his eyes. They were fully black, fathomless, and hungry.

Camilla’s gaze darted around, searching for Envy.

He was nowhere to be seen.

“Do you not feel the darkness?” Abyssus asked. “Is it not real? The same as sky and earth and blood are real?”

Camilla began to shake her head, then stopped. She could feel the darkness. A feat that should not be possible, even with magic. It was many things—soft, cold, warm, terror and protection. Each essence flickered over her wildly, until she could scarcely draw breath.

“This isn’t real,” she repeated.

Fragments of emotions mixed with physical and mental truths. Breaking and shattering and melding together until she couldn’t breathe.

“Make it stop,” she gritted out.

Abyssus smiled faintly, amusement flickering in his dark eyes.

Just as quickly as the world had been stripped away, it was back. Envy was barking orders, like only a moment had passed for him. It felt like hours for Camilla.

“Don’t look him in the eye, Miss Antonius.”

Abyssus flicked his attention to Camilla again, a secret smile curving his lips.

She was immediately ensnared by those ancient, terrible eyes. They held her prisoner, drew her in, made her forget life and happiness and light. It was different from the first darkness he’d shown her; this suffocated, corrupted the soul. Made her wish for death.

Darkness. Cold, endless darkness swept in, chilling her.

There had never been any light, never anything except this endless dark. This—

“Enough.”

A voice shattered the hold over Camilla.

Abyssus lurched forward, and Envy shoved her back toward the lagoon.

“Run!”

Camilla didn’t hesitate. She turned, darted two steps, then halted.

A shadow peeled away from the cavern wall, chuckling darkly. At first, she thought Abyssus had managed to get past Envy; then the shadow spoke.

“Hello, Camilla, darling. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Crimson eyes glowed like dying embers in a fire as the vampire fully stepped out from where he’d been hiding. She could not believe it. Maybe he had made a deal with the devil. He certainly seemed to cheat death as much as he’d cheated half of Waverly Green’s elite.

“Vexley. How?”

His head canted to the side, more animal than human in movement.

“Foolish woman. You had no idea how much venom was running through my veins.”

He flashed his teeth. The incisors were gleaming, sharp instruments of death.

“It hurt like hell. The change. Took a while for me to come to. I wanted to find you, thank you personally. Repay the honor.”

Horror filled Camilla. She’d turned Vexley into an even worse demon.

He took a step closer, attention fixed to her neck.

“We were interrupted before, Camilla. Procreating might be… difficult. But we can certainly try. I still need an heir. Why not make an immortal legacy? Let me turn you.”

Envy was suddenly there, eyes glittering and dangerous. Camilla glanced around, feeling the walls closing in. She wanted to ask what had happened to Abyssus but kept silent. Envy must have a plan. He always had a plan.

Vexley drifted closer, gaze darkening with thirst. He hadn’t noticed the demon yet.

“Don’t.” Envy’s dagger glowed softly. “She’s mine.”

“Lord Synton.” Vexley laughed, shaking free from his thirst. “I’ve heard many interesting tales about you. Too bad we’re both playing the game. I might have liked you, Your Highness.”

Camilla felt trapped between mountain and stone, between supernatural predators. And the deadly lagoon. The tunnel was much too narrow for all of them. If they couldn’t get past Vexley, they’d need to retreat toward Abyssus. Worse and worse.

Envy stalked closer. Fear in a handsome, male form. Camilla could suddenly breathe again.

“My brother gets a little touchy when creatures cross his wards.”

Envy pressed the queen’s vial into her palm, nudging her back in the other direction. She clutched it to her chest, taking a step back.

“How did you cross them?”

She suddenly understood what he was doing—he was distracting Vexley, catering to his vanity.

Vexley all but preened at Envy’s appeal to his ego. The idiot.

“Connections. Perhaps you don’t know the right creatures.”

Envy smiled faintly.

Between one breath and the next, Vexley attacked. His fangs scraped across her throat, liquid heat dripping down her neck. But his move had been sloppy, wild, a feral animal too mad to be strategic. Immediately he was tossed across the tunnel, the demon’s rage nearly ripping his arms off. Vexley crumpled, and Envy turned back toward Camilla.

Envy didn’t see him coming, didn’t think he’d get up. The demon was focused on Camilla, his gaze locked onto her blood.

She screamed, but nothing came out. Vexley leapt, his hands transforming into talons, his fangs lengthening. He was no longer a simple vampire; he looked like a werewolf. A beast. Some demonic being that could only be spawned in the Underworld.

He opened his fanged mouth, a roar bouncing off the tunnel walls, and he ripped Envy’s head clean from his shoulders in one brutal swipe of his teeth.

She dropped to her knees, retching. Over and over.

Vexley had killed Envy.

She couldn’t.…

She heaved, emptying the contents of her stomach, tears streaming down her face.

“CAMILLA.”

A voice bellowed behind her. She couldn’t focus. All she could do was stare at the headless body of the prince, heaving. Vexley was gone. Like he’d never been there.

It was so shocking, so unexpected, it wrenched her from her tears.

Camilla glanced around, confused. Why would he kill Envy and not take her?

She crawled to Envy’s lifeless body, shaking him.

“Get up!” she screamed. “Please. Get up.”

“CAMILLA!”

Her name was a command, issued by one she could not ignore.

She turned.

And the world flipped upside down once more.

Envy was standing there, shouting her name, over and over. His expression furious, terrified.

Camilla glanced back. There was no headless body. No vampire.

There never had been.

For the first time she noticed the pile of bones. The darkened earth. Walls splattered with entrails and God only knew what over the millennia. A circle of shimmering gemstones was embedded deep in the earth. She’d crossed them.

She looked back at Envy.

He was on the other side, pounding his fist against a wall she couldn’t see.

Hot breath caressed her neck. A tongue darted out.

She realized with growing horror that the blood had been real.

“Little deceiver, you may only pass once the tithe has been paid,” Abyssus crooned softly. “Should we take it from the prince?”

“No.”

“Mm.” Abyssus canted his head. “No. I do not enjoy that word.”

She rushed forward, nearly tripping over her feet as she tried to cross the line. It sizzled over her skin, hissing and tossed her back. She scrambled on her backside, crawling away from the ancient being who now stood over her, surveying her with growing intrigue.

He crouched in front of her, golden skin glowing.

“Did you truly believe you wouldn’t be tested?” he purred. “That you would simply walk back, be given all that you seek? We both know that’s not the way of kings. Most especially dark ones.”

Camilla froze, her mouth dry.

Abyssus had removed all their surroundings again, set them hovering in a suspended state of nothing. Darkness devoured her hands, tendrils curling over her where she remained sprawled on the ground. Or what had once been the ground.

“It’s when we’re trapped in complete darkness that our true selves are revealed.”

His otherworldly glow winked out.

“Who are you when the world fades away? What are you made of? How strong is your mind, your will, your capacity to fight? When there is nothing, who do you become?”

He was pressing her, taunting her, all the while the darkness shadowed all. Blackness was a color she knew; it had form, variation. This was the absence of all. No color. No matter. Her eyes were open—closing them didn’t make any shift in the endless void she was trapped in.

“What do you fear above all, little Fae?”

“I don’t know!”

“Mm. Look deeper.”

Then even his presence was gone.

There was truly nothing.

No spark. No life. No joy or pain. No past or present, no future she could ever hope for or dream of. No way out of this endless abyss that had swallowed the world.

But there was fear.

Camilla felt it pressing into her chest, stealing what little air remained. The darkness learned her, carved her open, tasted what her soul was made of. Decided to play.

It sipped from her fear, drank down her cries, indulged in the sorrow that threatened to trap her mind forever.

Time lost all meaning. There were no seconds or minutes or hours. They were constructs that belonged to civilizations, and Camilla was so far removed from anyone else, was so alone.

“There.” Abyssus’s voice drifted over her on a dark wind. “We have found your test.”

Just as suddenly as the abyss appeared, it was gone.

Camilla was on her hands and knees, panting. She glanced up at the cave, the walls dancing with shadows, the dirt packed hard beneath her. Tears streamed down her face.

She swiped at her nose, then sat back.

Abyssus was gone, the circle of gemstones falling below the surface, freeing her.

Camilla drew in a deep breath, then hauled herself to her feet. She gave herself another moment to collect her emotions, then turned.

Envy was nowhere to be seen.

“Envy?” she called out, voice echoing softly.

There was no response, no sound aside from her own voice.

“Abyssus?”

She felt him stir in the space around her, incorporeal.

“Where is the prince?”

Silence stretched between them.

“Go to the Twin Pillars,” he whispered. “You’ll find your answer there. If it’s not too late.”

A different sort of fear gripped Camilla. “How long have I been gone?”

“To some… it might feel like decades. Or months. But it has only been a few days according to the laws of this realm, little deceiver. Run. The last clue awaits, but the king left this message for you.”

Days. She’d lost days to the abyss. Critical time as the game grew closer to the end.

Had Envy left her and solved the next clue, or had something darker happened to him?

Camilla took the folded parchment from Abyssus, stomach twisting.

“Solve the final clue before the sun sets. Or lose your talent forever.”

Camilla swore. They were underground; she had no idea what time it was.

“Abyssus! How long before sun sets tonight?”

“Thirty mortal minutes, maybe less.”

Without wasting another moment, Camilla plunged down the tunnel, and ran as hard and fast as her feet would carry her.

FIFTY-SIX

ENVY SLUMPED AGAINST the column on the edge of the underground site of the Twin Pillars, his eyes drifting shut from the latest wave of pain. The magical chains that bound his wrists and ankles burned his flesh, searing it nearly to the bone.

Days had passed since he’d been imprisoned in the underground cathedral by Abyssus.

As far as prisons went, Envy supposed it could be worse.

The cavern was a beautiful mix of natural rock formation and demon-made ingenuity. The soaring walls were hewn from the natural rock found that far underground, while the floor had been laid with black marble tiles. The ceiling was reinforced with gold arches, the metal forming a Gothic architectural element that made one stop and admire it.

Even when one was magically shackled and beaten.

The moment they had passed over the ward Abyssus set up, Envy had been spit out at the Twin Pillars, chained and bound by magic across from them. It was the worst sort of fate—to be in the place where his next clue was and to be wholly unable to get there and solve it.

Then Vexley appeared.

And he’d changed.

The gleaming fangs and crimson eyes were badges of honor for the fool.

He now wore his sadism proudly instead of hiding behind his mortal veneer of debauchery. Envy hated him either way.

The newly turned vampire kicked him in the side. Bones snapped. He felt a fragment of broken rib pierce his lung, his breath wheezing out from the impact.

Envy spit blood onto the marble floor, running his tongue over his teeth, tasting the fragrant ichor that ran through his veins.

“You missed a rib.”

Vexley hauled off and kicked him with his newfound strength.

Pain seized Envy, but he gritted his teeth, defiant.

“Surely you can do better than that.”

“Are you out of your damned mind?” Vexley said, lunging forward. “I am a god now.”

A god of idiocy.

Envy yanked his chain taut at the last second and slumped out of the way, the vampire’s fist coming down on the link instead of his head. The chain heaved but didn’t break. Envy dragged himself back to a sitting position, breath shallow.

If he could get Vexley to damage the chain, even a link of it, he’d stand a chance at breaking free. He had no idea what had happened to Camilla and was determined to find a way back to search for her. If Abyssus had her and was playing one of his illusion games…

“You failed Lennox’s game. It’s a bit pathetic to keep showing up.”

“That game doesn’t matter anymore. I have almost everything I want.” Vexley shot him a haughty look. “Perhaps I seek a different prize now.”

There was no mistaking what the prick meant.

“Camilla has made her feelings clear on the matter, what with the murder and all.”

“She set me free.” The vampire shrugged. “Now she belongs to me until I say she doesn’t. Death agreed, or I wouldn’t be standing here, close to all I’d wanted anyway.”

Vexley paced in front of him, ticking off reasons like Envy gave any sort of shit.

Black spots gathered at the edge of his vision, growing in density. Envy was worse off than he let on. Much worse. It was getting hard for him to maintain enough power to sustain his court, keep the ward up around his circle, and not lose consciousness.

If Envy didn’t stay alert, it would be almost impossible for him to hold himself together much longer.

Still upholding his court, and regrowing his heart, he couldn’t risk using any more power to heal himself. Eventually his wounds would repair themselves on their own, but that could take hours in his weakened state.

He was lucky if he had minutes.

“First, I was playing for immortality,” Vexley said, drawing Envy back to his monologue. “I now have that.”

And an unquenchable thirst for blood, thus preventing the idiot from returning to Waverly Green until he got that minor little inconvenience under control.

“I will be even more legendary in Ironwood Kingdom now.”

Envy doubted that the satire sheets would indulge Vexley’s antics when he started slaying half the nobility. Maybe they’d all get lucky and someone would behead him.

Envy’s eyes drifted shut. He leaned his head against the stone column near the edge of the ancient site, his breathing labored. He was certain his skull had cracked at some point, if the pounding, monstrous pain was any indication. It was a testament to his will and power that he hadn’t fallen yet.

“Next, I want Camilla’s talent,” Vexley said. “We’ll make enough money to do whatever we please for as long as we please. I assume she’s not human, after her display of magic. Which means we can lie, cheat, and steal for eternity.”

“Except that Camilla said no.”

“Once I take her as my wife, it won’t matter much what she wants. I know what’s best.”

Envy’s entire body screamed in protest, but he slowly got to his feet, bracing himself against the column. Half dead or not, he was going to break free of these chains, and then he was going to snap the vampire’s neck.

Envy would be sent to the True Death before he’d let Vexley touch her.

“Women are not possessions. She belongs to herself, you arrogant halfwit.”

Vexley’s fist connected with his jaw, the crack echoing in the cathedral-like chamber.

Envy’s head smashed into the stone, the fracture in his skull knocking him out for a beat before he regained his footing. He went down to his knees, the bones cracking against marble.

Vexley towered over him, fangs gleaming in the strange half-light that filtered in from who knew where.

“There are no rules about teaming up with other players. Did you know that?”

Envy’s vision teetered between blurry and spinning.

He should have killed the mortal back in Waverly Green when he had the chance. His instincts about rotten souls were never wrong. Vexley had been a foul man and was a worse vampire. No one ought to suffer this fool for eternity.

“Arrogant demon fuck.” The vampire jabbed him twice in the gut, the air whooshing out as Envy doubled over. He was going to be sick. “You should have focused on eliminating your competition. Instead, you assumed they’d just fail.”

Envy hadn’t thought that at all. He’d decided that moving forward to solve his clues and riddles as quickly as possible was the best tactic.

He didn’t respond. And only partly because he had nothing to say. The pain was beginning to overwhelm his senses. Soon, he’d pass out.

His eyes slitted open, barely allowing him to make out the shadow creeping along the far wall, getting closer. He didn’t know whether it was really there or he was imagining it. Couldn’t tell if the glint of silver rising was a blade or a beautiful, violent dream.

Didn’t know whether Vexley sensed or saw it too. If he did, the vampire didn’t let on, leading Envy to believe that the shadowy figure wasn’t there.

Envy’s head jerked forward, then back, his fight to remain alert slipping. Vexley chuckled darkly, enjoying every moment of pain Envy suffered.

The magic in the chains sizzled, the fire going bone-deep.

A huff of pain escaped him, and the vampire closed in.

“Perhaps we’ll play a new game too.” Vexley crouched before him, crimson eyes sparkling. “The ‘drain you dry’ game.” He leaned forward, as if to whisper a delicious secret. “The rules are simple. I drain you dry. You slowly revive. Then we repeat for eternity. How long do you think you’ll last before madness creeps in?”

He yanked Envy’s arm out of its socket, the pain a hot sear that lashed down his spine, wrenching another groan from him.

“One, two… five hundred years?” Vexley asked, tugging Envy’s arm up to his mouth. “I’m willing to wager if you are.”

His fangs pierced Envy’s wrist, the venom causing an extra jolt of pain.

Darkness rippled behind Envy’s eyes. He could feel the venom colliding painfully with the ichor in his veins. He blinked once, twice, and in between Vexley was dead.

What?

Envy tried to open his eyes again. Vexley’s head had rolled next to Envy’s foot. Or had he fallen over? Envy’s cheek was pressed to the marble, the cool stone slick with blood.

Envy stared unblinking at the severed head. It looked back with the same dull expression, the same lack of life.

“Get up.”

The voice was sweet. Even if the command was less than appreciated.

Envy’s eyes closed. He wanted only to sleep, to dream of that voice.

“Envy.”

“Ah,” he said, eyes still closed. “A dream. A lovely, wonderful dream.”

Hands were on him now, soft, gentle. Searching. She hissed as if his wounds had hurt her, too. Then she rattled the chains.

“No. Don’t.” He attempted to pull them out of reach, the movement too much. “They’ll burn you, too.”

Featherlight fingers brushed across his brow, soothing again.

“Leviaethan.” The sweet voice held a twinge of panic. “You must get up.”