Page 46

His blue eyes locked on Raven. “You can leave.”

"I stay.” She gripped my hand harder. “If I can carry his name, I can carry the sound of his screams too, right King?”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Well said.”

A line of weapons rested on a white table cloth behind him. A giant black candle had been lit in the middle next to the ancient silver scale.

Dante stepped forward. “One pound of flesh, nothing more, nothing less.”

With my free hand I touched my Saint Dismas necklace and kissed it. Warmth from it sent what comfort it could.

Dante’s eyes asked if I was sure, if I was really going to do this.

I hoped mine screamedyesright back.

I released Raven’s hand and peeled off my shirt, tossing it onto the table with all the sharp objects.

I turned and braced my hands on the metal table noticing the scratch marks etched in it from people who’d needed to be tied down. Not me.

Raven touched my warm back with her hand. “You don’t?—”

“Your life is mine. Your air is mine. Your body is mine,” I snapped. “My flesh is yours, my blood is yours. If I had a soul to take, I’d hand it over too.” I nodded to Dante. “Begin.”

He reached for a sharp blade and thumbed it, nodded to King. Immediately he was at my side holding my right arm while Ivan held my left.

Dante pointed the knife at my chest. “Here, I take your scars and create new ones, new memories, replacements for what was done to you, now given by what is being taken.” He dove the knife across my chest and cut. The pain was unbearable, stinging, tearing, the sound of flesh getting sliced like scissors across my chest was worse than the pain. My teeth clenched as he took some of the flesh and tossed it onto the scale then wiped the knife on the white table cloth and held it over the flame. “Weight.”

Ivan answered. “Thirteen ounces.”

Shit, that was it? It felt like they filleted my entire chest and left nothing but ribbons of skin and muscle. My legs shook beneath the weight and pain of my own body.

“Legs.” I blurted. “Take some flesh from my leg to finish it off, so that every time I walk I remember her, I think of her, of the pain, of the fact that it burns for her.” Dante didn’t hesitate, he nodded to Ivan who lifted my pant leg and quickly this time, Dante sliced.

Ivan let go of me and said a number.

I was already headed toward the ground in a heap when King grabbed the bowl beneath the scale filled with drops of blood and lifted it toward Dante. “The sacrifice is received by the five families, his pound of flesh if finished, he’s yours and she is his. What was owed has been paid in full.”

He set it down and tore a piece of the table cloth and dipped it in my blood then held it out to Raven.

Did she know the tradition?

My eyes blurred.

I bled for her.

So to honor my sacrifice she would touch it to her skin to accept it as well since it was done on her behalf.

“Don’t.” I shook my head. “Have to.”

Black spots appeared in my line of vision as a bottle of red wine was handed to me and basically poured down my throat.

"I know.” She took the cloth and brushed it across her lips. “A kiss to the man who bled for me. A kiss,” She leaned over and pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “To the man who gave his blood—not his empty words. Your life is mine, Ace De Lange.”

"Always,” I whispered and collapsed against her as blessed darkness took over.

16

RAVEN