Page 16 of Her Cruel Redemption (The Dark Reflection #3)

Chapter Sixteen

M y feet pounded the dirt. Air sawed in and out of lungs already raw from the river. Fear zinged along my spine, as sharp as a blade at my back pressing me forwards as I struggled to lift my wet skirts from my legs, to keep from tangling in them. I could think of nothing, nothing, beyond finding somewhere to hide, reaching the streets of the town and putting something, anything , between me and the man behind me. I hit the dirt of a road, followed it blindly, legs burning, heart pounding so hard it hurt. A building, then another. The town was broken, empty. I caught sight of a narrow twist of alley curving between two shops standing abandoned, shattered windows and burned out roofs warning against entering. I skidded towards it. I didn't know if he was chasing me, couldn't hear him behind me. But that vicious snarl, run , had tapped into every instinct for self-preservation I had. I reached the wall, slid in behind it, spotted a side door on the opposite building.

It was unlatched. I could see a slither of the room beyond in the space between the door and the frame, like someone hadn’t quite swung it closed. I surged towards it, wrenching it open and slamming it behind me as I scampered across what looked like a dimly-lit bakery, with heavy wooden tables lining the floor, flour ground into the crevices, and a large stone hearth dominating one of the walls. By the time I’d reached the opposite wall and an opening leading to a narrow staircase, I’d realised the door I’d come through had bounced open. I swore, darting back, slamming it closed again, only to reveal the reason it had been open in the first palace: the latch was broken. I’d have to leave it open, a tell-tale sign of where I’d gone that I hoped he wouldn’t see.

Darting back across the room and up that staircase, I found a hallway with three doors. I paused, heart hammering so hard I felt dizzy. Dashing past the first on the right, I beelined for the second and found myself in a storeroom, all shelving and burlap sacks and barrels. Before I could weigh up my choices, I caught a sound that intensified my fear. The creak of hinges. I went scampering into the room on footsteps as quiet as I could manage them, barely thinking through where I was going in my panic, ducking behind a pair of barrels set far enough off the wall that I could squeeze myself in. I crouched there, still wet with river water, trembling, blood pounding so hard I could barely hear the sound of footsteps in the room below, breath shallow and fast. I strained my ears as my gaze darted around the room, taking stock of my resources, my potential weapons. That was when I realised I’d made a mistake. The room was small, windowless. I had nowhere else to run. But it was too late to make another choice. Because I could hear him now.

‘ Rhiandra ,’ he called, the sound skating over my skin in a flurry of goose bumps. ‘You’re making this too easy.’ The sound of footsteps on the stairs. ‘All these months I’ve waited to chase you only to have you cornered when we’ve barely begun.’ I clapped a hand over my mouth, trying to muffle my panicked breathing. I had trapped myself. Even with a window, how would I jump from the second floor of the building? Idiot, idiot, idiot! How long would it take him to find me crouching behind a barrel?! He was not going to find me hiding like this. I sucked in a breath and rose to my feet. I would face him standing. I brushed a hand along my belt, checking for my throwing knives. A few missing, but one, two, three still there.

‘You know, I’m surprised you left that scout alive,’ he continued. His voice was closer now, on the landing, I would have guessed. I could almost sense him, could feel the way the air shifted as he entered the space. My chest was so tight I could hardly breathe, adrenaline lighting my every nerve on fire as I stole three quick steps to stand by the doorway, back pressed against the wall, clutching one of my knives.

'Cut me a little, really,’ he continued, the sound of his voice changing, growing more muffled, ‘since you weren’t willing to kill him, but you were so enthusiastic about killing me last time I saw you.’ He was in the next room, I realised. He was searching that bedroom first. In a split second, I saw my opportunity. Held my breath as I peered around the doorframe. A straight shot to the stairs. I crept forwards, fast, silent. I could make it before he turned around.

I flicked my gaze through that bedroom doorway as I crept towards it. Where was he? Inside the room? Beyond the door? Why couldn’t I see him?!

And then, the air stirred and I could feel him. Right behind me.

I jolted, but he grabbed my arm, grip iron-tight. I surged forwards, trying to tear away, but he held on, spinning me. My back hit the wall. I screamed with fury, slashing out with my knife, meeting flesh a moment before my wrist was caught and pinned to the stone behind me. And Draven was before me, breathing heavily, too close and too much, like an abyss consuming all the world around him until there was nothing left for me but my awareness of him, his body a threat, his hands corroding my skin where they gripped my wrists.

‘You can’t hide from me,’ he said. ‘I could find you blindfolded and in a crowd. ’

‘If that was true, it wouldn’t have taken you so long.’ I kicked out to strike his knee, but he dodged me, crowding closer to demolish the space that had allowed me room to lash out.

‘I was giving you time. But you’ve had enough of that.’

I squirmed, thrashing against his grip, overwhelmed by the familiarity of him, the way he smelt, the way it felt to be pressed against him. My heart slammed against my ribcage as I tried to push against the wall and I couldn’t get him off me.

‘Calm down,’ he crooned, ‘as much as I like it when you fight me, we need to have a little talk.’

Struggling was just giving him what he wanted. I stilled, panting, staring into his unflinching gaze.

‘ There she is.’ His mouth twisted into a wicked smile. ‘And that look in your eyes is just as satisfying as I imagined it would be.’

‘You’re going to wish you’d never come looking for me,’ I spat. I collapsed my knees and dropped my weight. It caught him off guard and he lost his grip on my wrists. I fell to the ground, immediately scrambling away, kicking out at his legs as I did, feeling my foot connect. He staggered, and I was already stumbling to my feet, already tearing back down that narrow staircase. Heavy footsteps pursued me. I darted across the kitchen, feeling a breath away from a hand finding its grip, spurred to run faster by the terror pulsing through my blood. I reached the door, slammed through it without stopping, bolting down the alley. It opened out into a square beyond, a market, dozens of empty stalls. I tore between them, dropping behind one painted with red and white stripes, crouched with a hand on my heaving chest, gasping for air that scorched my lungs. I’d lost my knife in the scramble, I realised. Fuck. I could hear his footsteps, slower than a run now, but drawing closer.

I groped for one of my last two knives, drew it. Gulped a deep breath for some semblance of focus as I adjusted my grip. Shot to my feet, pinpointed his figure making its way down the street, pace measured, steps deliberate. I flung the knife a bare moment after spotting him, dropping back behind the stall without waiting to see if it would hit and darting behind a nearby cart in a low crouch. And the whole time, I knew how pointless it was. Because at any moment, he could compel me. That’s why he wasn’t running. He could end this now and force me to come to him. He could force me to turn one of my knives on myself and he wouldn’t even have to get my blood on his hands.

‘Don’t waste your knives by throwing them,’ he drawled. ‘Come and threaten me properly.’

He was toying with me, trying to make me afraid. I pressed myself against the wood of the cart, fumbling the next knife as I tried to pull it from its sheath. It clattered to the cobblestones. My hand was shaking as I snatched it up. I couldn’t risk throwing it and leaving myself defenceless.

But… I wasn't defenceless.

I hesitated a moment longer. If I blacked out again, I was finished. But even if I did… it would be fucking worth it to shock him. To turn the tables until he was the one running. I reached for the staticky fizz of magic beneath my skin, drawing it together, down my arms and into my hands, all the way to the tips of my fingers.

‘Is your heart racing.?’ His voice was closer now. ‘Are you scared of what I’ll do to you when I get my hands on you, Rhiandra? You should be. You betrayed me.’

This was the moment I'd been waiting for. I was done with running.

He thought I’d betrayed him ? He’d exploited me and blackmailed me and kept secrets from me, and he’d surely manipulated my emotions with magic and made me think I was in love with him.

And before any of that, he’d let them burn me.

All at once, the fear was overwhelmed by a searing rage, heightening the tang of magic coating my tongue, intensifying in a rush of pure power as sparks began to arc along my fingers. I didn’t care if I couldn’t aim. I could scare him. I tightened my fingers around the hilt of my one remaining knife.

In a burst of movement, he found me. His hand descended from above, snatching my upper arm, curling around it, tugging me upwards. I lurched around the cart, crashing into him as the hot static surged, rushing to the surface of my skin, leaping out of my hands in wild arcs, flashing so bright that shadows were scored across my vision, slamming into a target somewhere nearby with a crack that rattled the ground. Draven released me and jolted backwards, stumbling a few steps to put some distance between us, staring at me in blank, wide-eyed shock.

Oh, I liked that.

I liked how unnerved he seemed as he took me in from a distance. I smiled as I pushed myself off the cart, slowly raising my arms out either side, turning my palms to the sky as sparks crackled along my fingers, my hands, my forearms, popping and zinging in a throb that seemed tied to my thundering pulse. My hair stood on end, my blood buzzed in my veins and my smile widened as he took another step back. Flickering bursts of light surrounded us, flashing in time with the sparks in my hands, the harsh illumination picking out the dark hollows of his eyes, the sharp angles of his jaw.

‘Oh darling, you think what I did to you was a betrayal? I can do far worse.’ I flicked my hand , sending a volt leaping out, slamming into a stall behind him with another crack! It was nowhere near him, but it was enough to rattle ear drums, to make him stagger for balance as shards of wood burst into the air. Flames licked at the remains of the cart, quickly growing, heating the air and throwing their shifting light across us.

‘So I see.’ His gaze tracked across my face as he regained his footing, and there was a wariness replacing the shock. He should be wary. What could he do? Steal the thoughts out of my head? Bend my will? Make me feel things for him that weren’t real?

I was wielding fucking lightning. I could end him.

Another bolt darted off me, followed immediately by another, without my conscious decision to release them. Both smacked into a nearby wall in a spray of dust and rubble. My head spun in a dizzying swoop, already beginning to throb, but the heady hit of power, of elation , kept me upright. I felt almost giddy with it. Weightless. Invincible.

‘You’re using a lot of magic,’ Draven said slowly.

‘Damn right I am.’

‘Has anyone taught you how to control it?’

‘You want control? Get on your fucking knees,’ I snarled, curling my fingers and drawing the lightning to the centres of my palms in two hot, blinding points that sizzled with energy. Draven held still a moment, and I turned my hands, preparing to rain down fury, trusting that, even if I couldn’t aim, he was close enough that I’d surely do some damage. He tracked my movements, his grey eyes tracing the zaps of lightning flickering across my skin, his mouth drawn, something dark carving grooves across his forehead. When his gaze collided with mine again, he held it. He raised his hands in supplication.

And sank to his knees.

The rage ebbed a little at the sight of him like that, looking up at me. But the thrill of it only intensified. He’d surrendered . Just like that. And even if there was a part of me wondering why, I was too captivated by the rush of power to focus on it.

‘Now what?’ he asked. It sounded like a challenge to me. Like a taunt.

I let the magic in one hand recede, bending to pick up the knife I’d dropped in the scuffle without taking my eyes off him. There were slashes on his left shoulder. At least I’d got him before he pinned me to the wall in the bakery. His shirt was gaping open along his collar, and drawing closer, I used the blade of the knife to flick the material back, revealing a gash weeping blood. He hissed as I touched the wound with the tip of the knife. I traced it up his neck, leaving a faint trail of red behind, before pressing the knife tip beneath his chin, lifting it so I could take in his deep-set eyes, mouth too sensual for someone so ruthless. He was more worn than when I’d seen him last. The hollows around his eyes were darker.

‘I like you better when you’re bleeding,’ I said. My heart was thudding so hard it made me nauseous, and that light-headed euphoria was still churning through me, like the magic-tinged delirium that came with a few dips of swoon, all exhaustion and power and thrill. ‘Maybe I’ll make you bleed some more.’

‘You can do that. But you won’t need magic for it. Let it go.’

‘We are long past the point where you get to tell me what to do, Draven.’ I curled my fingers tighter around the point of heat in my left hand. It was burning hotter and hotter, but the pain of it was pleasant somehow now, radiating down my arm in pulses of agony that felt bright and sweet, like the release of rubbing at a tight muscle. There was relief in it, and freedom. I felt like I could do anything, endure anything. Even him.

‘It will make you sick,’ he said quietly. I bared my teeth and drew his chin higher, increasing the pressure of the blade. Another spark jumped out of my hand with a blinding flash, arcing high and slamming into the roof of a building across the street. The wall slumped, pouring rubble to the ground in a crashing rush.

‘ You have made me sick. You have used me. You have ruined me. You have taken everything from me.’

‘I know,’ he said.

I laughed. It was outrageous, how quickly the tide had turned. Moments ago he’d been vicious. Now that had all dissolved away. Why wasn’t he trying to compel me? Where was his resistance ? ‘But all of that was nothing,’ I jeered, pressing the blade harder, dimpling his skin. ‘Nothing compared to what I’m going to do to you next.’

A rush of air zinged past my ear. A sharp sting. It jolted the rest of the world back into focus, like I’d been in some kind of trance. My perception widened beyond Draven, suddenly flooding with noise and movement as the pulse of heat in my hand receded, the magic settling back into my body with a heady kick of nausea to my stomach and a smack of pain behind my eyes. I gasped, losing my vision for a moment as I tried to blink through the pain and keep my feet. Another crossbow bolt flew past me, wider this time. There were soldiers emerging from an alley, one with his crossbow still cocked, another running, sword drawn.

‘Rhiandra!’ Gwinellyn’s voice screamed into my awareness. I blinked blearily as I scrambled to make sense of the scene. It felt like my mind was swimming in syrup beneath the thudding throb of agony.

‘Rhi!’ Gwin’s voice was coming from behind me. The soldier with the crossbow had another bolt cocked. Then he fell to his knees, hands going to his throat. The one running did the same, knees hitting the cobblestones heavily, sword falling from his hand. There was the sound of hooves.

‘Don’t go.’ Draven had risen into a half crouch. ‘Do what you want to me. But stay.’ The knife had drooped in my fingers and I adjusted my grip, brandishing it at him again.

‘Don’t move,’ I snarled, magic rising again as my stomach twisted. I should kill him now. One swift slice and it could be over. But Gwinellyn was yelling that more soldiers were coming, that I needed to run, and Draven had somehow moved out of my reach. Though I was the one moving, I realised, taking stumbling steps away from him.

‘Stay. Please,’ Draven said, one hand hovering in the air before him, as though he was going to lurch forward and grab me. But the pounding hooves shook the earth and in a burst of movement, a horse was prancing beside me, eyes rolling and mouth frothing.

‘Get on!’ Gwin was reaching for me. And I released the last of the magic to take her hand, to let her pull me into the saddle with more strength than I’d known either of us possessed. And then she was kicking the horse into a gallop and we were charging away as my head whirled and throbbed and my body began to tremble. I looked back to see Draven standing frozen, watching. Watching as we ran.

‘Where are the others?’ I managed to ask, the words merging together. Madeia help me, I could hardly hold on. My hands felt weak, my fingers slack as ribbons in a breeze. Two horses plunged towards us out of an alley, and my heart thudded in panic as I gasped. We were caught. We were going to be caught. But they pulled alongside us, keeping their pace with ours, and I recognised Mae through the woozy swirl of my mind, and Elias on the horse beside her. We charged onwards, cutting through the winding streets, and it was all I could do to hold on, my arms around Gwinellyn’s waist as my mind lurched and I tried not to be sick.

It took me a while in that state to realise no one was chasing us. There had been so many soldiers, how could there be none left to chase us? A memory swam slowly out of the churning molasses of my mind, of two soldiers falling to their knees. I hadn’t had time to question it in the moment, and now I wasn’t even sure I could trust that it had happened. Because I would be stupid not to recognise where I’d seen that sort of thing before; in the throne room, when Dovegni and his druthi had attacked us. Draven had brought them to their knees just like that, and I had a sudden, dizzying thought. That Draven had let me go. That he could have struck when the magic started to turn on me but he hadn’t.

And I hadn’t killed him even though I could have.