Page 56 of Ringmaster (The Kingdom of Shadow & Bone #1)

Mercy

The ground quivers beneath me, the air sizzling with magical electricity in the wake of my roar. But no matter how much I want to turn and look at him, I can’t.

The hideous creature who captured me last time I snuck into the circus lunges for me.

Hissing and feral, I sense his true intentions are to harm me.

If it’s a victim he wants, he’s not going to find that with me.

I was given a task: take a life in exchange for my own.

He’s tried to harm me twice. It seems the universe is giving me the perfect opportunity to secure my safety and to fulfill the debt I owe.

I grip the metal daggers tightly in my palms, positioning them both at my sides so the moment he leaps I can bring them up, slicing into him.

I stand my ground, ready to defend myself, vowing to never allow anyone to harm me or Azrael again.

The vile creature makes a final leap closer; talons replace its hands as it shifts midair.

My magic tingles, rising in defense, and the runes of my daggers send a second pulsating wave of power rippling through me.

It wraps around my hands like the soft shadows of—I gasp—Azrael has imbued the daggers with his own magic.

The familiar hum zings, filling me with his strength and love.

My arms flail up and out, the timing impeccable as the creature’s face shifts, unsuspectingly, in horror.

His face contorts in pain and it screams as the blades slice through its flesh with no resistance.

One cuts into its chest, the second clean through its neck.

Warm liquid goo leaks out. It smells putrid.

I gag, heaving fighting the urge to be sick.

Looking down at my hands, I notice the liquid is black and thick instead of crimson blood.

But then I can’t think about it anymore, because our collision sends me careening backwards.

I fall toward the ground—but there’s no impact. I should’ve hit solid ground.

When I don’t, I look over my shoulder at where it should be and scream.

A blood-curdling, terrified shriek so loud I can hear the beating wings of the birds in the forest springing from the branches and flying off into the distance.

Or maybe it’s Azrael. He’s already racing for me, wings a blur of black behind him, defying all rules of existence.

He’s remarkable as he surges forward after me, his face chiseled into a dreamy expression of intense concentration.

Our eyes lock before the endless black pit sucks us in deeper, pulling me too far from Azrael’s reach.

Panicking, I yank on the daggers and roll myself out from beneath the rapidly decaying corpse. I spin free from his weight, but now I’m watching as he continues to disappear, tumbling faster than I am into the never-ending cavernous pit. Soon the darkness swallows him, and he becomes nothing.

My arms spread wide, flailing, hoping my daggers will find purchase against a wall of earth—something, anything—to stop me from falling to my second death.

After a few failed seconds, I realize there’s nothing but an empty universe for them to dig into and formulate a new plan.

Azrael has wings; maybe I do too. Closing my eyes, I try to imagine flying, beating with wings to steady myself, but nothing happens.

Exasperated, I picture myself growing wings, but still—nothing.

The only other solution I can think of is to freeze time, but that wouldn’t actually stop me from falling.

Sensing my desperation, magic thrums in my fingers.

Then I hear Azrael. The beating of his wings fills my ears.

His strong, calloused hands grab hold of me roughly, curling my body against his as he wraps himself around me protectively.

Azrael secures me within his thick, shadowy wings.

They envelope us, instead of carrying us far from danger.

I wrap my arms around his neck and brush against them.

He stiffens—almost uncomfortably at the touch.

The feathers are like silk, the shadows are cold to the touch, and the bones gleam as white as the glowing moon in a sky full of darkness. We’re still falling as I take one breath after another, inhaling his familiar scent: smoke, darkness, and the lingering aroma of emberleaf.

Thud!

We make impact. Azrael’s wings release me, and I fall, rolling into a skeleton pile. I feel the smack as my head collides into a hard bone, and my world goes black.

When everything settles and the world rights itself, I squint, opening my eyes slowly. Everything is dark. Only a faint glow of magic seeping from my fingertips lights the space where I’m trapped. I reach out to push against the darkness and am met with silky feathers.

“Azrael!” I shout, panicking.

It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe, tucked away inside my wings. The words drift down our bond.

I’ve missed the sound of his voice in my head like that.

A smile forms on my lips. Shuffling my feet with my hands outstretched, I search for where Azrael’s wings meet his back.

Every time I brush against his feathers, he stifles a groan.

Once I finally locate his back, I run my fingertips down his spine.

Azrael hisses. His muscles spasm, and a soft moan escapes his lips.

Don’t do that, my love. His voice is strained, muffled.

Did I hurt you?

No. It just felt really good, and I can’t think about feeling like that right now. He sighs as if he’s still thinking about it.

I chuckle, stroking a singular feather sensually. Allowing all my senses to absorb his reaction. He moans. It sends a jolt of excitement through me. Butterflies dance in my stomach as I hold my breath and do it again, enjoying the way his body reacts to my game.

Fuck. You’re teasing me. I’ll make you pay for that later.

I hope you do.

Azrael suddenly goes rigid. Every muscle in his body tenses. There’s a loud thud as the earth shakes beneath us.

What’s happening? What was that? I shout through our bond.

The Ringmaster is here to avenge Malicor, he answers, anger rolling off his body. “When you killed him you committed sin. I don’t know why, but hell opened up and swallowed you both.”

“I had to.” I try to explain, but Azrael cuts me off, and our connection fizzles. He’s blocked me out.

The Ringmaster’s voice echoes from outside of Azrael’s protective wings. “I see you’ve figured things out,” he taunts.

I don’t know what he’s talking about, so I strain my ears to listen.

“I have.” Azrael admits. “But tell me—why’d you do it?”

“Because he promised me freedom, and only the ancient can pass into the mortal realms. Someone had to steal you from Hell and move you to the mortal realm to control the Kingdom. We never planned for the rift between the worlds to happen,” he confesses casually, without any remorse for his actions.

“So all this time you’ve been using me to keep your powers and release monsters into the mortal realms to assist the divine in tipping the scales. But why?”

“Because you ruled for far too long, and the Divine made the new Lucifer a more lucrative offer than being chained away and imprisoned. Did you really think you could keep Wrath under control? You should have never trusted him. You should have never welcomed him into our folds. Maybe then he wouldn’t have corrupted us. ” His confession comes easy and fast.

Azrael was under a spell of control for so long he lost all sense of identity. I cover my mouth to keep from gasping.

“How, Leviathan? How did you and Wrath pull this off, brother?”

The Ringmaster laughs an eerie, gloating chuckle. Slow. Deep. Maniacal. “Isn’t it obvious?” he glowers. “Envy did it. Wrath convinced me to be so envious of you that I had no choice but to join him in his plot to dethrone you and seize control over all of Hell.”

“Why did you try to keep me from my mate? And why demand an heir if you knew you were leading me away from—“ His words taper off as realization hits him. “You wanted me to defy the Fates and create chaos. You plotted to create an illegitimate heir,” Azrael accuses.

“We would have gotten away with it too, if only you were more obedient. You’re unfit to rule. Hell is better off with Wrath at the controls. You don’t stand a chance against him.” The Ringmaster taunts.

“Enough,” Azrael growls, magic trickling off his body in a low hum as shadows sweep around us.

Magic crackles and shadows surge around me. I imagine them racing to suffocate the Ringmaster and trap him. I allow my imagination to run wild with the vision. Anger boils within me. How could his own brothers betray him?

My thoughts seep into Azrael’s. He answers them before I can speak. They killed me. Then when I was reborn they forced me into the mortal realm, where my powers would be dull and slow to develop.

Why?

Power, my angel. Power, and jealousy. His reply softens before our connection tamps off once again.

I hear the Ringmaster gasp for air as the shadows squeeze it out of him. “We would’ve gotten away with it too—if you’d only listened and stayed away from the girl. If only you’d been a good little errand boy, feeding us the souls of the monsters we released.”

“But I’m not your errand boy, am I, Leviathan? Who am I?” Azrael seethes.

“You are Lucifer, the one true prince of Hell,” he answers.

“That’s right I am, and you’ll bow to me so I can rule Hell once more.”

“We’ll see about that,” he remarks boldly.

I hold my breath as my body trembles and my thoughts swirl.

I sold my soul to Lucifer. I fell in love with the prince of Hell, and now I’ve made a deal with the Fates to protect him and stand by his side after proving myself worthy to love him.

What does that say about who I am if I had to prove my worth?

I struggle to process the information. Shock grips me in a debilitating hold.