Shadow Reign (Shadow Puppeteer Book 2) (18 page)

BOOK: Shadow Reign (Shadow Puppeteer Book 2)
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Her blood was black and thick like oil, dripping down her chin and spotting my clothes. There were a couple of extra joints to her incredibly long fingers as her hand left my throat to wrap around my temples. Before I could slap her hand off me, the images blasted through my brain.

I bent under the pressure finding it difficult to catch my breath. I recognized the ransack farm house surrounded by rusted cars. I remembered the night I stepped out of the doorway Draken opened so I could see Rex for myself. That night was chilly, but not as cold as my memory now served on this particular night.

Music blasted through the open windows, but I could barely hear the beat over the screams and growls. I only met the alpha of Rex’s pack when he tried to kill me. There wasn’t time to mourn. The excitement was overwhelming. The smell of gore and the begging made me feel so invigorated. Death surrounded me. The blood on my hands had already chilled and I wanted to engage with another wolf, to feel that warmth rush over my skin again.

I caught a body. The girl was much younger than we were. Her eyes were wide. Her mouth trembled.

I screamed. It was me, not Rose that broke the connection. My throat ached where she tried to strangle me, yet I couldn’t stop screaming. My anger was fierce. Rex’s entire pack was dead, because Rose had a vendetta with me.

Rose threw her head back and laughed. What sat on me was no longer human. Her contorted face looked more piggish than anything. Horns jutted from her scalp and her eyes were completely black.

“Don’t tell me that blood makes you squeamish. Not after what I saw,” she taunted.

She was too sure of her abilities and loosened her hold on me to grab the pouch. I pulled my gun from its holster.

At this angle, I couldn’t miss. I pulled the trigger and the discharge left my ears ringing. The recoil made my entire arm ache, but I didn’t stop firing. Rose screeched, jerking back with every shell that slammed into her body.

I didn’t stop firing until the next couple of clicks proved empty. She was off of me, hunkered down and wheezing. I pulled my second gun and aimed at her head.

Anger controlled me. “You don’t know what I’m about.”

One shot and this would be over, but the shadows moved in, begging for entrance inside my body. Death encouraged them. This last shot meant more than the death of Rose. It meant the death of who I am. I lowered the gun, but didn’t take my eyes off her. She had to die. There was no way around it.

She chuckled wetly. “You don’t have the guts.”

Shows how little she knew. It wasn’t about guts. It was about keeping that dark entity from taking over that small open space in my chest cavity. It was about being me tomorrow and not under the mind control of something far darker.

I took a step away from her and nearly tripped on the staircase. If she bled out, maybe the spirits wouldn’t take that as the impact they waited for. I couldn’t keep doing this. The world and the spirits were burning me out.

D’s voice was small, barely a whisper. “World Congress is coming.”

He hunched down on the other side of the dais. His clothes, skin and hair were covered in soot. His eyes still wouldn’t meet mine and I couldn’t tell if I scared him. I didn’t have to lower my shields to see that I scared Rose.

The sirens he spoke about were distant. There was still a chance to get out of the building, but the fire that licked over the wood, wasn’t burning fast enough. Rose still had the opportunity to escape. I couldn’t risk her healing. Even now, it wasn’t a death dance that made her body jerk. Her wounds were fixing themselves.

I raised the gun and shadows touched along my shoulders and down my aiming hand. They were fluttery and light. Something kept them out of my body and I felt that flap on the verge of dissolving. This was it. If the spirit filled me, D wouldn’t be the only one in trouble. How much damage would I do before World Congress put me down?

Rose put a hand under her and tried to sit up. It was halfhearted, but her strength was returning. The tip of my gun shook as I aimed. This was it. I pulled the trigger and a hand caught my wrist, jerking my arm upward. The first bullet pounded into the wall and the rest shot into what remained of the roof.

It wasn’t me that recognized Utan at first touch; it was the shadows that still grazed my skin who whispered it to me. As creepy as it was, they served me. I jerked my head back, whacking him in the nose. It didn’t shake him and unlike Rose, he didn’t bleed.

He was too quick to counteract. His hands went straight for my throat and all the tendons underneath my skin screamed at being squeezed again. He applied a lot of pressure and my eyes watered. I was aware how my heart pulsed in my neck. I could feel every beat as if it resided there.

“Not so tough now, are you?” he said.

Rose stood and sauntered over to us. The sirens were close. It was a wonder they didn’t send helicopters, but maybe too many people would see the technology and question it. Don’t put the sheep in an uproar.

She grabbed a pouch at my waist and yanked hard, breaking the thin leather loops. I prayed she had the wrong pouch, but she dumped salt over her hand before the wrapped prism fell into her palm. The world slowed as she dropped the pouch and the salt scattered over my feet. The shadows lifted and I didn’t realize how much of the pain they guarded me from; how difficult they were making it for Utan to asphyxiate me.

“Kill her,” Rose ordered.

Something slammed into Utan and I felt the echo of that object tremor through his arms and fingers. His hands went limp for just a second, giving me the chance to turn on him. I pulled my blade and even stunned, he managed to avoid getting cut. I really hated training with him and this was no longer a lesson. If he pulled his blades, I’d be dead.

D stood behind me, still holding the smoldering piece of wood despite his coughing fit. His bravery surprised me, though his eyes were glazed and he didn’t look all there. The smoke was too thick, making this a bad place for a showdown.

I stepped away from the salt that fell at my feet and the spirits crawled over me, waiting for their release. Utan charged. Before I could release the spirits, a flaming blue arrow streaked the air, slamming into Utan’s shoulder. He grunted, staggering back.

My good eye stung from the smoke as I looked in the direction the arrow came from. The smoke was too thick, making it impossible to see. Good or bad, I had to take what I was given. I charged at Rose and she took to the air. The familiar pull of her ability took the handle of my blade straight from my hand, sending it upward.

I moved back, grabbing D and pulling him low to the ground where the air wasn’t nearly as suffocating. It was dangerous sitting here with Rose above us. The dark plumes of smoke made it impossible to see anything overhead and the heat started to condense.

“To the death, Belen,” Utan yelled.

The smoke didn’t bother him as he yanked the arrow from his shoulder. No blood spurted from the wound, but the tip of the arrow didn’t come out with the stick. He had a sword in his strong hand and a dagger in his hand with the injured shoulder.

Utan roared, charging at me with his blade ready to swing. He hopped the stairs, but before his foot touched down on the dais, three more arrows plunged into his flesh, knocking him back. My head buzzed with the lack of oxygen. It made me sloppy. So sloppy, that I wasn’t grabbing D and running.

D coughed and I pulled him closer. I couldn’t fight Rose if I was dead. We needed to get out of here. I pulled D behind me, careful not to touch his hands. Now wasn’t the time to transfer my wounds to him, though he’d gladly take them. He never blinked an eye when it came to helping others.

We got to the edge of the dais where Utan jerked at the sticks, but he wasn’t removing them fast enough. The blue fire melted more than his clothes. He was in agony and the sounds that scratched from his throat set my teeth on edge.

I pulled D to the door at the back and an arrow slammed into the wood. It wasn’t anywhere near hitting me, though I took it as the warning it was. Fine, I could play dangerously too. I didn’t want the shadows to consume me until it was Rose’s body at my feet, but I’d settle for survival.

My good eye was so blurred with tears and smoke that I barely made out the figure that crossed the dais. He wore a trench coat and gas mask. His black hair was spiked and he wore the bow over his shoulder in a nonthreatening manner. He crossed the dais in heavy, black Goth boots and offered his hand.

Draken.

I knew better than to take his outstretched hand. He betrayed me when he handed D, a fellow Diablo, over to World Congress. D waited patiently behind me and it killed me. I wanted to shake him, get him to react to the situation, but he was waiting for my response.

Draken impatiently jerked his hand at me. The sirens were right on top of us. I wondered how much trouble he’d be in if caught out of uniform. I grabbed D by the wrist and took Draken’s hand. It wasn’t nearly as warm as the heat that radiated from D’s sleeves. The wolf called to me and it stirred the part of me with fur.

Before I could blink, Draken pulled me onto the dais and over to the other side. The place was an inferno. It took only a moment to realize he had an open doorway. I couldn’t see the doorways he opened, not like the death doors that swirled with purplish-gray fog.

The second we walked through, the air was both cool and breathable.

TWENTY

T
he minute we stepped through the portal, I pulled from Draken’s hand. I kept D behind me, giving him my gun and ammo.

“Load this for me,” I ordered.

Despite the clean air, my nose and the back of my throat still stung and my good eye watered. I held my throwing knives ready for anything, but the room we stood in wasn’t threatening. The marble flooring and stone walls brought a great deal of comfort. The pillars were far too thick to hug and everything had a golden hue. The portraits made me uneasy. I’d recognize those drawing anywhere, now that I’d seen the statues they’d accompany. I wonder what Draken would say if he knew I took a gift from one of these many gods.

Draken pulled the gas mask off his face and it left lines where it hugged his skin. “You’re safe here.”

His eyes held mine and my heart pattered shamelessly in my chest. He had his goat eye contacts in, making his eyes yellow with the black strip down the middle. With his hair spiked and smelling like smoke in his long coat with the bow over his broad shoulders, he looked like the type of guy that I’d fall madly in lust with. Now wasn’t the time for crushes. Draken had a lot of explaining to do.

“Loaded,” D said.

His hand shook when he handed me the gun. I put my throwing knives back in my arm sheaths and took my weapon back. My hands were shaking too as I loaded the second gun myself. I didn’t expect him to take us somewhere so far from the action. If I got back quick enough, maybe I could still hunt down Rose.

“Thank you for stepping in, but I need to go back.”

An elderly man came around the corner. His weathered skin didn’t obscure his kind face. His smile left him wrinkled. His bald head suggested he shaved it clean and with the way his robe fell over one shoulder, I could see his chest and arms were shaved too. He spoke with Draken in a language I couldn’t follow and I didn’t try.

“We’re wasting time,” I growled.

“You’re in no position to fight the Reincarta,” he said.

I pushed my hair away from my face to welcome the air that cooled the sweat on the back of my neck. I was pissed, but my attention was diverted by the hand on my shoulder. I turned right when D was going down. I sagged under his weight before Draken was there, scooping him up.

D looked like a porcelain doll, pale and vulnerable in his sooty white robes and vampire bitten skin. I smoothed the curls off his forehead. He didn’t stir at my touch.

“I have a place we lay him down to rest, if you trust me,” Draken offered.

That was a question I found difficult to answer. We need to talk and my stomach growled, warning me that I couldn’t put off eating any longer. I didn’t want to drag D around and for some reason; this place instilled a great deal of calm. Maybe it had to do with the portraits of the gods.

I licked my dry lips. “Yeah, sure, but I’m going with you.”

A ghost of a smile hinted at his lips. “I wouldn’t expect less from you.”

“There’s no reason to trust any of this. The last medic you entrusted him with killed him. You put an innocent young man in harm’s way.”

At Draken’s raised eyebrow, I knew I let something important slip. D died on the table, but he wasn’t dead now, thanks to me, the Shadow Puppeteer. I ignored the look he gave me.

“Your Diablo is far from innocent. He might be suffering from amnesia, but World Congress thinks he’s special and from what I’ve seen, I think he is too.”

Did that mean Draken saw D heal someone? I didn’t like the fact that he now held him. If he walked through a transmitted doorway, I’d never be able to follow them. The first time I met D, he was being kicked around by street thugs. D wasn’t a threat to anyone. His sympathy wouldn’t allow it.

“You’re not giving me a reason to trust you or these people.”

In truth, I didn’t want a reason to trust anyone here, but this place gave me one. It felt just like the cave where the gods were encased in stone, only brighter. One of the gods, or maybe all of them, crossed through these halls at least once. Their energy still resided here.

Draken’s tone suggested annoyance. “You’re in the house of believers. They aren’t going to do anything to him.”

I didn’t need to ask believers of what. I wonder how the robed man would feel if he knew Khaos was loose.

The walk was short. We made it around one corner and a few doors down, before the robed man opened a door for us. I followed Draken into a Victorian room that reminded me a little too much of the Dutch Gamer’s quarters, though it lacked the strange skin canvas paintings. It was just enough to make my chest ease from the tight squeeze.

I stood by the door as Draken laid D on the bed. The robed man began lighting candles and incense. D needed medical attention, not spiritual attention, but I couldn’t walk him into a hospital with World Congress looking for us. I had so many questions to ask D ; however, there was so little time for all this.

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