Soulless (Maiden of Time Book 2) (31 page)

Sixty-Four

Rally

The warming sky spun above Kiren. This was happening. This was really happening. A moment longer, and they would succeed in pulling him beyond the perimeter. They would have what they wanted: his essence. Alexia would be left alone, bonded to a man who craved her flesh. Dark hunger was the only happiness she could hope for, an emptiness that should have been heaven.

Never.

She had destroyed her innocence for him, killed for him. He could not fail her. Never again.

Kiren reached into his core and pulled. Light burst around him. It beamed off his skin, cutting through the blackness.

Gasps rang.

Sixty-Five

Piercing

The howl was unlike anything she’d ever heard. Alexia’s blood turned to ice. The scream shook her frame and tore at her lungs as if it originated from her own body, but it was not her.

She shoved out the inn door and stopped on the stoop, startled.

Light trickled across the land.

She scoured the ground for shrouds, but other than a periodic fallen corpse, they were gone. Passionate dropped to their knees or laughed for relief, patting one another on the back.

They had done it!

She shoved her way through allies, needing to discover her husband was safe. She could feel him, weakly, like the cord that bound them had been stretched to thread and coiled about the yard.

People huddled together, their joy lost on her as she squirmed through them and almost tripped over Miles. He knelt on the ground, staring at the dagger lodged in a small body.

Golden ringlets spilled across the dirt, frayed and loose, the child’s royal velvet gown mucked and ragged.

“Bellezza...” she whispered. The girl didn’t respond, her body still. “Miles?”

His shoulders drooped, head bowed.

“She is not...” Alexia covered her mouth. The girl could not be dead. She was one of those eternal creatures, the kind that would torment them long beyond this wretched battle.

No, Bellezza was merely injured. She needed help.

Kiren could heal this.

Miles’s gaze again dropped to the unmoving girl. “She attacked him. I stopped her.”

Miles
had done this? Her heart throbbed for him, broken and weighed down by her own numerous murders.

She dropped on the ground beside him and wrapped her arms around his shoulder. “Oh, Miles...”

His eyes closed and he reached out, sliding his palm over the dagger handle. He pulled it free of Bellezza’s form. Instead of blood, white mist oozed out of the injury, releasing into the sky. The particles deflated her form, ribs and shoulders sinking in.  Her body disintegrated, like an exhaled breath until nothing remained.

Gone. Just like that, the girl was gone.

“Miles, where is my husband? Why couldn’t he stop this?”

He didn’t move, his knuckles white around the dagger hilt.

“Miles?” She wanted to shake him.

His head lifted, gaze drifting to the horizon.

She followed it. White brilliance beamed in the distance near the boundary line, a dome of unearthly light, not the foggy yellow rays of sunrise. It diminished, pulsating inward as the glow died. A red haze gleamed over the edge of the horizon, silhouetting the man who knelt on the ground, head bowed, shoulders back.

Kiren
.

She rushed forward.

Kiren toppled. Lester appeared at his side, catching him. She stepped over three prostrate bodies, pools of darkness against the road, silenced Soulless. She dropped to the runner’s side.

“He’s alive, if that be what yer fearin’,” Lester said.

Kiren’s eyes fluttered. He grunted. Words garbled in his throat.

Alexia wrapped her fingers around his and awareness burst through her. Warmth crept into her skin, a cloud-like consciousness that trickled up into her mind:
You should not be out here.

She scowled. “Says the man who cannot even lift his head.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. She leaned close and pressed her lips to his ear. “You have given me of your energies before, I wonder whether it is possible for me to lend you strength.”

A crystalline nexus appeared in her mind, an orb that lodged within her own breast.

Kiren grunted. A dark cloud billowed up in her thoughts. She pushed it back, focusing on the sphere he’d revealed deep within herself. She pressed it toward his consciousness. Zaps of light coursed through her veins, reaching for his skin.

Kiren’s hand jerked, but he was too weak to pull away. She gripped harder. She was a kettle, tilting and spilling into a nearly empty glass.

Kiren’s fingers tore free.

She lifted her head and met his ocean sky. Her entire body wanted to collapse and sleep for a week, but he was well.

“Never do that,” he whispered.

She crossed her arms, her voice shaking. “Promise me I will never find you as I did just now, and we are agreed.”

He frowned.

Lester chuckled. “She’s a spitfire, that one.”

Alexia leaned into Kiren, stealing a moment to gather her strength. “How did you do that—without the necklace?”

Kiren slid an arm around her. “It was not the medallion that enabled me to act. It was something within, but I have never been able to unleash it on my own. Or perhaps I have never tried.”

“Because you always possessed the weapon.”

He nodded. “A weapon we must retrieve.” His gaze turned to Lester. “They will come and come again until it is within our possession. I am not strong enough to keep them away, and clearly Mae’s threat is no longer enough.”

“Agreed,” Lester said, turning back toward the inn. “But we’ve far too many needin’ protection.”

“I will go.” Kiren righted himself and climbed to his feet. “Apparently I can defend myself.”

“At what cost?” Alexia rose. “Had they come back you would have been easy to finish. You cannot go alone.”

His brows scrunched together. “I would risk no one else.”

“Good.” She dismissed Lester with a nod and faced Kiren. “We are agreed.”

“Alexia, no—”

“You saw what I did.”

His face paled.

She hated his reaction—hated that she could feel his horror through their bond. He had known many of the creatures she sent on, and his pain was palpable.

Yes, she was a murderer. Whether he was horrified by her actions or not, he had to recognize her power, and she would never allow anyone to hurt him.

Kiren’s jaw muscles clenched. “Let us be off then.”

Kiren had barely spoken the entire journey, and Alexia was frustrated that he remained so quiet, but—with the regular twitching of his brows—she discerned a battle must be raging inside. Whatever he was thinking, it came at her in waves—the reluctance, then a deep-set determination, followed by mental agony. Perhaps he was equally torn over the loss of Bellezza, or perhaps he was still seeking an excuse to send her away to safety.

Alexia didn’t want safety. She wanted him.

The clouds cooled from orange to purple, drowning the trees in shadow. The dusty trail was rutted from multiple footprints, greenery setting off the bleak tributary.

Kiren stopped and grabbed her hand, pulling her quickly into the trees. Silence filled the wood.

Eerie silence.

A chill crept up the back of her neck.

Shadows flitted by through the fading greenery, at least a score of creatures slipping into the night. Alexia pressed closer to Kiren, seeking his warmth. His arm rounded her.

The silhouettes disappeared and crickets hummed in the darkness. A breeze washed against her cheek and Alexia resumed breathing.

They hurried into the shadows, nearing the hatch to the underground. With a wary look, Kiren slipped in ahead of her. She followed, relieved as he reclaimed his grip on her hand.

Earth and fungi mingled in her nose. The darkness was as deep as tar. Kiren tugged her forward and she scuffed her feet along a pebbly surface, worried about stumbling into a rock or wall.

Heat latched around her ankle.

She squeaked.

The grip tightened, searing fingers around her thin stocking. She grabbed the instant five seconds back and jumped.

The veil of reality shifted before her and Alexia pulled Kiren to a halt.

His voice echoed through her mind.
What is it?

She opened her memory to him. His fingers wrapped around her shoulder and the cave exploded into a fracture of senses. His senses. A distant drip echoed off the walls, dulled against the cavern floor where bodies must muffle it. Decay curled in the back of her throat and she gagged. The vaguest light touched a dozen corpses strewn across the narrow stretch of hall, still in the blackness.

She slowed her heart and moved forward, stepping gingerly between the prostrate forms.

A dim glow appeared from around a bend. Light pooled in grooves that beveled the walls, like they’d been excavated one fingernail scrape at a time. Heavy doors lined the hall, laden with iron brackets, locked into place by metal bolts. Kiren slowed as they passed, his senses bleeding through their connection: the echo of heartbeats on the other side, the warmth of Passionate energies.

Prisoners?
Alexia wondered.

Kiren’s grip tightened on her, his jaw clenching.

They hurried down the hall. From what Bellezza had told them, the hive consisted of three circular tunnels, each connected by small inlets. If they were right, whatever was most precious to the Soulless—the medallion—would be kept at the heart.

They came around the bend and froze. An open door gaped before them, cloaked creatures standing just inside. Hisses refracted off the prison, jeers that formed words she couldn’t quite understand.

Alexia readied to jump them back, but Kiren tugged her forward, his shoulders stiff.

Oil lamps leaked sickly shadows across a tiny chamber, illuminating a thin, black-haired man crouched against the far wall. Grime stained his clothing, and exhaustion weighed his shoulders.

Regin.
Kiren pulled her closer and his memories seeped into her:
The man stood between Kiren and an army of Soulless, putting the creatures to sleep with a single touch.

Edward had told her stories of this man. Dull manacles encircled his wrists, cruel irons that suppressed Passionate gifts. Keys glinted at his jailor’s hip, mocking their prisoner with the hope of freedom, yet no means by which to reach it. It was cruel, and Alexia would not see her husband’s friend suffer more.

She seized the seconds, slowing time. She grabbed the keys and dragged their brick weight across the stale chamber to the prisoner’s side. She tested keys until one slid into the lock and freed both his wrists, slipping the keys into his pocket. She returned and took Kiren’s hand, then let time go.

Fatigue washed through her.

The manacles dropped from Regin’s bony wrists. His mouth twisted one direction, then the other as the Soulless stood over him, frozen. He glanced between the jailors and his eyes lit. A grin broadened the hollow planes of his cheeks. He leapt to his feet and smashed a palm into each of the Soulless creature’s brows. They dropped to the floor.

“’Bout time ye got yer lazy hide here.” Regin stepped around the fallen forms, his Irish brogue fascinating Alexia.

“When you could infiltrate the whole hive and put them to sleep? Why would I bother?” Kiren bounced.

“Aye, why would ye bother? That’s what we have her for.” Regin bowed to Alexia. “Much obliged.” He patted his pocket and keys jangled.

“Who else is here?” Kiren asked.