Page 33 of A Seduction Of Death (Umbra Hunters #4)
THIRTY-THREE
Meyer
W ith Archer's shove, my feet are suddenly free, and I stumble forward. Gasping, I try to catch myself, nearly falling into the enormous black sarcophagus with a shout that earns more swearing and a resounding roar from the Demon King outside.
“Hands on the lid,” Jesthren demands, and I flip him off just as Archer's hands wrap around my wrists, and he shoves me palm-first onto the cold black stone. I scream as pain lights up my hands, the mark on my wrist instantly turning red as magic surges through me. The sense of dread builds in my belly as I scream, trying to kick out of Archer’s grip but getting nowhere as Jesthren walks around the sarcophagus and moves to stand at my side.
“You fucking bastard!” I snarl at him, my hatred doubling when he huffs an annoyed sigh and draws a Kalis blade from his side. I flinch back, trying to move away from him as he lashes out, striking hard and fast, slicing a deep cut from wrist to elbow on my right arm as I cry out in pain at the burning sting of the blade.
“This could have been much easier for you and everyone. Valen, Razar, and Creed could have survived this. They would have been able to reunite with Archer, but you were selfish and chose the hard way,” Jesthren says calmly, side-eyeing me as he walks behind both Archer and me before striking again, cutting into my left arm. “I’m the selfish one? You're the one trying to kill your family!” I scream, then grunt, my head snapping to the side as Jesthren’s palm connects with my cheek. My vision darkens as I blink, trying to clear the tears that spring to my eyes before turning and glaring death at this motherfucker.
“Lennox and Orcus are not my family,” he hisses, eyes gleaming with a madness that terrifies me as he leans closer, his sharp teeth only an inch from my face. “And with your help tonight, I won't simply try to kill them; I’ll succeed. Or at least Orcus,” he mutters, looking positively gleeful with the idea as he stands up straight. I can feel something shift around me and hear a growl from outside as Jesthren laughs.
“Did you know that Versipellis Demons don't have their magic in Dreams? They are helpless… even the strongest of Demons are left vulnerable.”
I gasp as several Wraiths and a few men I’ve never seen before move into the room with us, Orcus bound with ropes and chains, bleeding profusely from his temple and what appears to be a stab wound in his side.
“Jesthren! Don't do this. Think of the pain you will cause your brothers!” Orcus begs, and Jesthren laughs.
“It's funny how you mention them again. How much you care about their pain but didn't care about mine.” Orcus frowns and shakes his head.
“Of course I cared, son. Lillian was like a daughter to us. You know that!”
“No! You don't get to say her name! Not when you refused to help bring her back to me,” Jesthren rages, his body practically vibrating as he snarls at Orcus.
“There wasn't a way! I told you that! I would have gone through anything to bring Lil back to you, Jes. Anything!” Orcus screams, his eyes wetting with tears as he stares at his oldest son.
“There is, and you know it!” Jesthren hisses back, settling a little as his eyes go slightly unfocused.
“Only with Death magic, and it wouldn't bring Lillian’s soul back, Jesthren. She would be a Wraith, a monster with the need for one thing and one thing alone: blood. Is that what you want for your betrothed?”
“My mate,” he hisses back, and Orcus freezes as he studies his son.
“Mate, you hadn’t ? —”
“We did. We completed the bond the morning before you sent us out to check on that village. My mate died, and you did nothing,” Jesthren screams, making Orcus’ mouth part as a tear tracks down his face. Jesthren’s emotions hit me like a tidal wave, making me feel the pain he’s in, the pain he’s been in for decades, and I feel tears rolling down my face as I glare at him. How can I feel sorry for the guy and hate him all at the same time? Fuck, I hate this emotions thing. No wonder Nox is such a grumpy ass all the time.
“Oh, son,” Orcus whispers, devastation on his face as he shakes his head. “Why would you not tell us? We could have tried to help…”
“Would you have brought her back?” Jesthren questions, and Orcus’ eyes fall shut as he shakes his head.
“No, Jes. Lillian died. There is nothing you can do to change that.”
“My Father can do it,” Jesthren says, voice turning cold as he looks down at the black sarcophagus. “He’ll bring her back,” he whispers to himself.
“That's a lie.” Orcus rasps and Jesthren tenses, then chuckles.
“Of course, you would say that. Now, Meyer,” Jesthren turns, looking down at me with a blank expression, acting as if he didn't just have a complete meltdown. “Let me explain a few things to you. You see, I needed you for not only your blood and magic in order to set Inanis free but for your ability to make dreams physical. You see, I have the ability to walk through people's dreams. To bring in reinforcements… but to make them physical?” he shakes his head and tsks in disappointment. “I’ve stolen Dream Walker magic several times, one of which you may even know,” he says with a smirk and leans down, letting green magic spark around his palm before setting it on my hand, careful to avoid the blood running down my arms and trailing over my fingers.
My eyes widen as the magic dances over my skin, the feeling soft and comforting… like a warm hug of protection wrapping around me. It's the very same feeling I had felt whenever I was close to Jesthren those last few days before we came back from the Demonic realm.
“I’m actually impressed with this particular line of magic. I thought she was the last of her bloodline. I had hunted her for over a decade, and she did well at avoiding me. But I finally tracked her down in a mental hospital in Idaho.” Jesthren grins as my blood runs cold, realizing what he’s implying. “I do have to applaud her. She managed to keep your existence a secret from me. Even as I stole everything from her and fractured her mind, she didn't fully break. Keeping her precious daughter safe. Or so she thought.” He lets my hand go as my knees try to buckle under my weight.
“You can imagine my surprise when I came to this realm and saw you holding that silly stick while facing off with the Beastia and Wraiths. I thought your bloodline had been long gone, yet there you were. My little Hunter of hope.” He laughs as if the memory is a fond one shared between friends as he moves to stand in front of Orcus. The Demon King's face is bright red, and he glares down at his oldest son, hands shaking behind his back, body quivering in rage as he looks from Jesthren to me. Or rather, the cuts on my arms before looking at Archer with heartbreak in his eyes.
“I told you this is how it would end, old friend,” Jesthren whispers, but it’s not his voice that comes out—it's the voice from my nightmares, rough and deep, as he smirks at Orcus.
Inanis.
“Let Meyer go. You’ve already taken her blood. Unlock the tomb and allow my sons to leave with her. Both of them!” he growls, and Jesthren laughs. “You know you need a life to open that tomb, Inanis. I’ll give mine without a fight. But you have to release them.”
“No!” I shout, wiggling in Archer's hold, desperate to get free. Why the hell would Orcus promise something like that? And why is he trying to save Jesthren along with Arch and me? That doesn't make any sense. I look up at Archer, finding his eyes barely open and bright red, staring at nothing as he holds me in place: Jesthren’s and Inanis’ puppet.
“I will simply take your life, Orcus, and keep my son. The girl as well for at least a time. I may need her magic to restore my reserves. No promises on how long she gets to live, but I won't kill her. Not tonight. You, however, are at the end of your life. How does it feel, Orcus? Do you feel alone… betrayed? Everything I felt when you took Viviane from me? That once you’re dead and gone, your mate will be mine?”
“She was never yours, Inanis. Varacks and Lucius’? Yes, but you killed Viviane’s love for you with your actions. By the end of the war, she spat on your grave,” Orcus snarls, spit flying from his lips as he glares at Jesthren.
I scream as Jesthren releases a bone-chilling roar and spins the Kalis blade in his hand, then rams it deep into Orcus’ belly, making the Demon King groan and fall forward, dropping to his knees with the Wraiths and Hunters holding the ropes and chain tight to ensure he doesn't escape.
Like a switch is flipped, Jesthren blinks and stumbles back, gasping and dropping the now bloody blade in his hand as he stares at the Demon King in absolute horror. Just as fast, his face morphs into a feral grin, he turns, looking at me over his shoulder, and nods.
“Your turn,” he whispers, and I glower at him, feeling the magic inside me turn, the mark on my wrist glowing brighter as Jesthren walks over and presses his hands on top of mine. “Use all you can,” he instructs, and I scoff at his fucking audacity, then throw everything I have back at Archer, praying I don't kill him. Raz’s twin shouts at the sudden onslaught of magic striking him, and he crumbles to the ground, his head bouncing off the stone floors with a sickening thud.
Closing my eyes, I let my magic loose, letting it do as it pleases since I honestly have no idea what I’m doing. I attack, my vision darkening as Jesthren screams but keeps his hands pressed to mine, trapping them to the lid.
“Let go!” I scream, and a rush of red light shoots from my hands directly at Jesthren, who is launched back and slams into the wall. Only instead of looking upset, he grins, hands outstretched, as he bends the magic I forced at him into a small ball hovering between his palms.
“Jesthren! Don’t,” Orcus croaks from where he’s kneeling on the dirty floor, wounded and looking like death is already at his doorstep. His hand stretches out, and he reaches for his son, but it does nothing as he ignores the Demon King and takes a step forward.
Shit.
“Thank you, Meyer,” he chuckles, then shoves the red light at the lid in front of me, making the entire tomb erupt into tiny shards of black stone, flying through the air like knives. I scream as they tear into my skin, the sting of a hundred cuts making me fall to the ground and groan as the Hunters scream behind me. Most fall to the ground, some stagger and manage to keep their footing, but all of us are now covered in cuts, blood dripping everywhere.
There is a brief moment of silence, a pause during which I can hear the blood whooshing in my ears and feel my heart hammering in my chest. Then I feel it: the darkness creeping from the shattered stone, morphing and turning into a black tar-like substance before my very eyes.
“Move!” Jesthren finally demands. I look up and find him standing above Orcus, who watches Jesthren with heavy eyes.
“I’m sorry, son,” he whispers, just as Jesthren stretches out his hand and mutters words under his breath. I gasp and try to press to my feet, ignoring the pain in my body as I watch Jesthren’s magic cord around Orcus, the King's eyes instantly turning red just before his arms give out, and he falls to the ground.
“No!” I scream, the mark on my wrist burning as I launch myself at Jesthren, knocking him back several feet. Then, everything changes. The room darkens as Jesthren snarls, shoving me off him and to the ground before he starts to filter the black magic he’s pulling from Orcus into the black-sticky tar a few feet away, and I watch in horror as Orcus’ chest stops moving and his skin turns gray.
One moment passes, then another, and it feels like my breath is being pulled painfully from my lungs as I realize that the Demon King is dead.
“No! No! No!” I rasp and blindly reach out, grabbing hold of Jesthren's wrist, having the sudden urge to yank. But instead of pulling on him physically, I can feel that odd sensation I’ve realized is magic turning in my chest. It explodes from me, latching onto Jesthren’s red strands that are moving the final bit of Orcus’ magic to the tar that is slowly growing bigger in the center of the room. My magic moves around the strands of black, making sure not to touch it and weaves itself into the red magic that is so similar to the magic residing in my chest.
And then it pulls and pulls and pulls. I grab everything I can, red, black, blue, and green magic, and shred into it, pulling it from his original thread of red magic and leaving it vulnerable.
Jesthren freezes, his mouth dropping open in a silent scream as he stares at me in horror, and I glare back, a smile twisting on my face as pain etches into his every expression. I can feel my hands twist, claws slicing through the skin at my fingertips as I surrender to the darkness within, bowing to its power and letting it climb forward and do what it needs.
Kill her!
The nightmare voice echoes through the room, and I turn, looking at the ever-growing black tar that is slowly shaping into a man's figure. I pull on Jesthren’s magic faster, panic racing up my spine as I turn and eye the wounded Hunters and Wraiths as they step toward me. But before they can lay a hand on my body, a knife flies through the air and lodges itself in one of the Wraiths' heads, making the dark-cloaked monster fall to the ground.
I gasp as a man steps next to me and look up at Archer, finding his light green, clear eyes on the Hunters in front of us. I almost cry tears of relief as he grabs another blade off his person and spins it in the air.
“Whose next?” he asks, then turns and points his blade at Jesthren. “I think you,” he growls, eyes gleaming with black magic as he snarls at his brother. Jesthren roars in anger, moving his magic from the remaining sparks of Orcus’ magic and launching everything he has at Archer and me. I scream as our magic collides, and just like in the clearing, the light grows as his magic attacks mine.
“Fuck!” Arch rasps, falling to the ground next to me as my toes dig into the stone floor, and I press back against Jesthren, using everything I have. The sparks of black magic linger around Inanis, and I gasp as I reach for them, trying to keep Jesthren at bay while slowly grabbing hold of the magic.
“You are not strong enough to challenge me!” Jesthren grinds out, and with a brush over his magic reserves, I know he’s telling the truth. But maybe there is a way to level the playing field.
I grin, an idea forming in my mind as I yank on Orcus’ powerful black magic, funneling it away from Inanis and making Jesthren scream as horns erupt from his temples, claws growing from his large hands and a tail whipping out behind him. I grab hold of the multicolored magic he stole and funnel it from him. His eyes widen in panic and he lashes out at me even harder. I cry out as my legs crumble, and I crash to the floor beside a trembling Archer who looks seconds away from passing out. But I don't stop letting the multicolored magic into the air as my magic wars with Jesthren’s.
The glimmering magic swirls, and suddenly, another force lashes out, snaring it in its tight hold and filtering it to the mass a few feet away. I almost cry as I watch Inanis slowly emerge from the black tar. The giant Demon steps into the room, his dark skin sparking with magic as he looks at me with disgust.
“Father,” Jesthren whispers almost reverently as our magic grows, encompassing the room.
“Release the magic now!” Inanis demands, and Jesthren nods, immediately doing what he's told. I grind my teeth in response, holding onto his magic in a last-ditch effort to stop the Devil from getting free.
“I hope this kills you,” I whisper through bloody lips, my arms shaking and covered in blood, the sight only pressing me to do as my magic wants. I watch with sick satisfaction as Jesthren screams as he attempts to pull his magic free from mine, just as my magic buckles and the entire room detonates.