Page 55

When Trystan Learns Not to Poke the Beast

I ’ll think about it later…

A lot later, if it’s left up to me. Right now, I have more imminent problems to deal with.

I come to a standstill.

The things behind me hiss, but I don’t move.

Trystan must realize we’re not following. He turns and glares. “Move.”

When I don’t, he approaches me. I snarl. I’m so not in the mood for this right now. Luckily, I know what to do because I remember a few very useful spells implanted in my mind when I was only a baby. By my mother.

“Knots, be gone, dissolve away, set me free without delay.”

I whisper the spell, and the ropes binding my wrists and ankles vanish. I whirl around and kick out. My foot connects hard with his balls, and he lets out a shrill cry before crashing to his knees.

“Touch me again, and I’ll rip off your hands,” I snarl, glaring down at him.

His face pales, and he lets out a whimper and clambers away from me.

I hear a whisper of movement and look away from Trystan. The shadowguard are all around me—maybe twenty of them. They’re holding back right now, uncertain. That won’t last. But that’s okay. I know how to end them permanently now. I need to call them to me…and then I need to separate their heads from their bodies. Unfortunately, I no longer have my sword. Trystan must have divested me of it when he took me.

They’re inching closer now, reaching out with bony hands. They’re not going to kill me—that wouldn’t please their master. But they could overpower me. I search my mind for a spell that could help, but the shadowguard, like the guardians, are impervious to most magic. A sword. I need a goddamn sword.

As the first one touches my arm, ice shivers across my skin. After all this, I’m going to fail anyway. I know where the mirror is now, and while I’d like to think I’ll hold up under torture, I’m not sure that’s the truth. Everyone breaks. I swallow.

No freaking way.

I kick out and send the shadowguard tumbling back, but another takes its place. In that moment, I know I will die before I let them take me alive. My mind clears with the knowledge of my imminent death, and a sense of peace washes through me, followed by bone-deep regret. I’ll never see Khaosti again.

But while I can’t use magic directly against them, I can stir up a shitload of trouble.

“Spirits of the air, hear my call, twirl and twist, rise and fall.”

I whisper another spell, and the air begins to whirl around us. It picks up anything in its path, and faster and faster, the debris smashes into the shadowguard. I’m in the eye of my own mini cyclone.

It slows them down, but they keep coming. I kick another off me, but there’s more where he came from. I don’t know how long I fight, but it’s too long.

At that moment, I hear something coming at us fast from behind, and I whirl around. I stop the wind as a great black wolf leaps out of the darkness. Joy fills my mind.

He came for me.

The wolf takes out the shadowguard closest to me, ripping its throat, and the thing vanishes.

Then Khaosti is standing before me in human form. He tosses me my sword, then draws another, and we stand back-to-back. I circle my blade then lunge toward the nearest shadowguard.

“Through veils of darkness, spirits rend, shadows of hell, to me ascend.”

I whisper the words of the calling spell, then plunge the blade into his chest. I drag it free and slice off his head with one clean swipe. This time the body doesn’t disappear. It topples to the ground, the head rolling away. I don’t stop but swing my sword again and strike down another. Behind me, Khaosti is doing the same, and the rest break rank and run.

And within a minute, we’re alone.

Well, not quite. They’ve left someone behind—Khaosti’s friend, Trystan. He’s still lying on the ground, holding his balls. Good. I hope they freaking hurt.

Khaosti strides toward him, sword still in his hand.

“Please,” Trystan babbles, “I wasn’t going to kill her. I was taking her to safety. I’m your friend, Khaosti.”

He’s such a goddamn liar. If Khaosti doesn’t kill him, I will.

He raises the sword high above his head.

Suddenly, hatred fills Trystan’s eyes. “Does she know?” he snarls. “Does she know what—”

Khaosti stabs the sword down, piercing Trystan through the chest and cutting off his words. For a second, his eyes widen with astonishment. A gurgle comes from his throat, his back arches, and then he goes limp as the life drains from his eyes.

Khaosti pulls his sword free and turns to me. “Why the fuck did you run off like that?”

He sounds furious. I don’t care. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I sigh. “You came for me.”

He frowns. “Of course, I came for you. I’ll always come for you.”

“Because your brother asked you to?”

He leans down and wipes his sword on Trystan’s shirt, then slides it into the scabbard at his back. I think he’s giving himself time to think of an answer. “At first that was why. Then I became curious as to who you were and why you were so important. Then I kissed you, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Which is wrong—you’re too fucking young—but now, I find that I don’t have a choice. I can’t not come.”

A smile tugs at my lips. I want to kiss him, but I need to know what happened first. “Is Hecate okay? And the others? Trystan said he took the wards down.”

“He did. The fucker. But Hecate got them back up, and Thanouq and I disposed of the shadowguard. No one was hurt.”

“Thank goodness.” He’s studying me, brows drawing together.

“What?” I ask.

“You look different. I just can’t decide how.”

I find myself reluctant to tell him that I’ve remembered everything. Because that means I’ll have to tell him what I remember. And I’m trying not to think about that. Because… Ugh!

But I’m not a coward, and there’s no point in ignoring this. It’s not going to go away.

I’m a good person. I’m fucking special.

I can be whoever I want to be. I get to choose.

I straighten my shoulders and stare into his golden eyes, hoping against hope that he won’t look at me differently after he hears what I’m going to say.

“I remember who I am.”

He grins. “That’s great.” He must see something in my face because he frowns. “Who are you?”

“I’m Lucifer’s freaking daughter.”