Page 73 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood (Tales So Wicked #2)

“ Vampire ,” I whisper. As if the word has finally sunk in.

“Yes. One of the immortals, like your Harrow. There are so few of us remaining.” He picks a chunk of flesh from beneath a fingertip before buffing his nails on his pant leg. “I’ll live forever with blood as my penance. Alas, I am but a slave to death.”

“You are asss dramatic asss alwaysss.” Mytha shakes her head. “Thank you, Angel. I must sssee to Harrow. I will be back, Princesss.” Mytha shifts and soars toward the castle. Pools of dark blood remain in her wake. She’s more severely wounded than I realized.

Angel and I stand looking at one another. He’s awfully calm for someone who just ripped a man to pieces.

“You are beautiful. Not quite living either, are you? An undead princess. What a poetic choice. Harrow has always been a secret romantic.”

The intensity of Angel’s red-glass stare has me keenly aware of the fact that no one else is around. “Thank you for your help. I know Harrow will be grateful too.”

“My dear, it’s been a pleasure.” He lifts my hand, kissing it. His lips pull away from my skin and he hovers there. The grip on my hand tightens. “ You are bleeding .”

The words are gravelly and disembodied. I squeeze the fabric covering the dagger hilt, hoping to hide the wound. My hand is wet. The bleeding has picked up. Now that he’s pointed it out, I’m keenly aware of the wet trail running down my left thigh and puddling around my feet.

“You are lucky I’ve just fed. So much blood.” His eyes drift to the wound again.

“Harrow will be here soon. I’ll tell him what you did to the prince. He’ll be thrilled to hear he met such a brutal end.” An end I do not wish to suffer as well . I speak calmly, forcing myself to remain neutral. Inside, my heart is pumping so loudly I can barely hear the words as I speak them.

“His blood overpowered the scent of yours. Now that he’s gone, I can sense things more clearly.

You are gravely wounded.” He takes a step forward, eating the small bit of space between us.

My breath is trapped inside. It only releases when he halts his advance and retreats several steps back.

“I must leave you. The hour is late here, but in my kingdom, the stroke of midnight approaches. Once it arrives there will be nothing that can keep me from the blood spilling from your veins. Heal up and visit my kingdom anytime, Princess.”

He gives a deep bow. I incline my head. When I look back up, he’s gone.

So, vampires are terrifying . Turning, I search for him.

My head swims with the effort. I’ve lost too much blood.

The courtyard moves beneath my feet. Each step feels like I’m on a rocking ship in a tumultuous sea. My hand grips the edge of the well.

“I just need to sit down for a minute,” I say to no one in particular. Cassius is dead. Mytha has flown off to find Harrow. Angel has returned to wherever he spawned from. I’m alone.

The well is rough beneath my tattered nightgown as I perch on the edge. There’s a soft glow peeking up over the castle. Is it sunrise already? My vision blurs. In the haze, I spot several pairs of glowing eyes.

There’s no fear left in me. I’m too tired. A nudge against my ankle draws my eyes to the ground. The soft orange face of Sweetpea peers up at me. The little fox nudges me again. Several other animals step into the courtyard. Their movements are cautious.

A bone-chilling cold is slowly spreading through me. This feels different. “I’m sorry, guys. I don’t know if I’m going to make it back this time.”

The dagger handle still protrudes from my stomach, but I no longer feel any pain.

I’m dying again. The sunrise brightens the skyline.

A soft pink glow bathes the castle in light.

I look up, seeking the sun. That slight movement puts my weak body off-balance.

I fall backward into the well. The splash when I hit the bottom puts my circumstance into perspective.

Water roars in my ears. I don’t have any energy left in me.

I don’t even put up a fight when the water fills my nose and mouth.

Harrow

I’m not sure how much longer we can continue in this battle. My powers have been dwindling since I stepped foot in the in-between. I haven’t had a moment to recharge. If something doesn’t change soon, I’ll end up empty and useless. The Beast is wearing down too. His movements have turned sluggish.

The Beast tosses one of the bodies through the four-post bed. Wood splinters, flying everywhere. That’s when I hear it. The unmistakable ping of something hitting glass.

My attention fixates on the mirror. Everything that’s hit it before has been absorbed or has caused the surface to ripple. The mirror has now solidified. How long ago did that happen?

Reaching out, I search for what has changed.

We must have broken the tether. The blue light that surrounded both the monster and mirror has faded.

The wide eyes of the trapped bodies roll.

Many of them are dead. Victims of the devastation.

The monster must have lost its grip on the mirror without a constant stream of souls to feed off of.

Catreena screams, a true, heart-wrenching, bloodcurdling scream.

She drops to her knees. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air.

“ Cassius …” She vomits, her body heaving violently.

Black liquid spills across the bloodstained ivory rug.

Such a visceral reaction can only mean one thing.

Cassius is dead.

Relief cuts through the smallest edge of my anxiety. Angel did his job. Lenore is safe. Now I just have to do mine.

Using the monster itself, I grip it by the haunches, trying to ignore the way my fingers burrow into the faces and bodies of its victims. If there were a way to free them before I banished the monster, I would.

There’s nothing I can do for them. My shadows help, lifting it off the ground and hauling it toward the mirror.

Swinging the creature with all my strength, fighting until it feels like my shoulders have torn free from their sockets, I fling him.

The mirror monster’s hard, exposed skull crashes into the glass and the whole thing cracks.

Catreena’s scream pierces my ears. The monster is sucked inside the mirror, body disappearing into the darkness.

Glass rains down around it. Every piece disintegrates as it hits the floor.

The jagged shards become piles of glittering silver dust. The mirror itself shrinks down, becoming a small two-foot oval.

It falls from the wall, hitting the ground with a percussive clatter.

I did it. The sounds of Catreena’s whimpering fuels my victory. Darkness lashes out, tying the dark queen and covering her face once more. She barely fights me.

“Are you harmed, Beast?” The scent of blood surrounding the Beast tells me he’s sustained some sort of injury.

“Nothing I won’t heal from with time. I am more than fucking ready to be out of this fur.”

“But this is such a good look on you.”

His glare is sharper than the shattered mirror. I understand his fears. It’s time for him to go home.

My hand buries into his shoulder. “ Let yourself back out .”

Magic drips down every syllable. Renard would be perfectly capable of transforming on his own if he weren’t so riled up. With a small hint of coercion, the shift sweeps through him.

Fur shifts to knotted muscle beneath my fingers. Horns give way to golden hair. He and Catreena could almost have been related. They both possess looks that don’t quite fit with this world. The glow of magic gifted them both an angelic beauty, though neither is an angel in any sense of the word.

“Now that I’m human”—Renard quirks an eyebrow at me—“and naked, maybe you could let go of me. Return me to my bed where I might make use of these lack of clothes.”

“I thought you had a thing for powerful men.”

Renard chuckles. “I enjoyed fighting with you, but blonds aren’t my type.”

Grinning, I slap him on the shoulder. I’ve seen his type. Types , I should say. The brown-haired flower and the black-haired hunter. After snatching him from their sights, they’ll be all too eager for his return. “Let’s get you home.”

Renard glances toward the mirror. “Is it dead?”

“No. But it’s gone.” The mirror lies dormant. Not a flicker of energy pulses around it.

“Will it be stepping through any other mirrors anytime soon?” He’s thinking of home. Renard’s cursed mirror is imbued with its own magic.

“Your castle is safe. Catreena summoned it to our world. Without her, it has no way back.”

“But she’s still alive?” He looks to where she’s quietly sobbing in a heap of shadows.

A grin splits my features. “Still alive, yes. But not a resident of the mortal realm for much longer.”