Page 41 of Shadows and Flames (Twin Blades #2)

Chapter Twenty-Six

MELINE

W hat. In. The?—

“Fuck!”

The word didn’t match the screeching in my mind, the incredulity. It came out garbled like choking on soot.

Elián pulled the blade from Von Herron’s chest, where the man had been cowering in the corner, and he used the front of our mark’s tunic to wipe his blade.

“What have you done?” Tana whispered, just as surprised as me.

My Shadow turned then, sheathing his sword at his back to cross with the other, and the movement stunned me even more.

An inconvenient wistfulness struck, right in the center of my long-broken heart, at seeing him with his swords again.

He was not in Shadow leathers, but just the sight of those weapons ignited the pang of longing for those days, for an opportunity to approach our relationship, particularly its ending, differently.

But of course, the asshole wiped that away as quickly as it’d come when he raised that brow and gestured toward the body. Of our dead map to Francie. “It seems we won, my queen.”

The sharp words were easy to call forth, then. My voice was clearer as I seethed, “Why in the hell did you kill him?”

El paused, looked back at the body as if he was missing something, and sent a silent question behind us. To Tomás.

“Because our contract was to kill the bloke, take his head to our employers, and be on our way.”

That… that was not right.

I sorted through the details of our agreement in my mind, but the souls beginning to stir in the corridor and downstairs, they were more noise.

Now that my powers were easier to control, I was mostly able to ignore the ever-present stirring of the dead who still clung to this realm.

But this whole fucking situation had my wits scrambling.

The sound and scent of the tenants in the apartments surrounding us, pointedly ignoring the commotion for fear that the culprits were still in their midst, were even more to ignore.

Tana was able to vocalize the thoughts I still struggled to coalesce. “You…your contract was to kill him?”

“Yes,” El answered. Without preamble, he pulled the dead Von Herron up by his hair and unceremoniously heated a dagger he retrieved from somewhere on his person. It glowed a bright orange, like straight out of the forge, as he cut through Von Herron’s neck like slicing a pat of butter.

The heat of the blade immediately cauterized the cut, leaving a neat, if you could call it that, trophy to bring back to?—

“ Who is your employer?” I watched El toss the head to Tomás who caught it one-handed. He stuffed it into a leather bag at his feet and slung it on his shoulder.

“Few disgruntled competitors back in Morova, from what we gathered. Why?”

Tana slumped into an overstuffed leather chair, head between her legs. If I could’ve moved, I would’ve done the same.

But this defeat had a new flavor to it. I’d had contracts interrupted before—hell, I’d had a contract interrupted by Elián before. I was a competitive person, yes, but there’d been more than pride and coin at stake. What were we going to do ?

“I did you both a kindness by not initiating a wager on our victory, though it would’ve won us a sweet addition to the payment we’re about to receive. How about you just treat us to a farewell meal before we part?—”

I cut Tomás’s posturing off with a harsh hiss and raised finger. One could hardly think when he was always fucking talking, and it was difficult enough to keep myself from throttling both my Shadow and his brother.

Underneath the soft leather coverings, my blackened fingers, the three that marked me as a vehicle for the dark side of Rhaea, tingled with need. Instead of the parasitic curse I’d thought of my powers to be, since the marks appeared, they yielded more to my wishes.

Death Wielder. I had the mark now, similar to the High Priestess of Rhaea, but instead of a peaceful ceremony supported by sisters under the beacon of the moon, I’d won mine through nothing but pain. The sort that scooped out my insides, every minute of every day.

Peace , I’d said. Freedom from all that plagued my heart and mind and leaving… what?

Even before The Killings, or scrounging together a home in Nethras, or finding comfort in the arms of Elián or my sister. True peace was a state I’d never known.

“Give us the head.” I focused back on the bag swirling with an invisible cloud of the freshly deceased. It made my skin prickle.

Elián stepped to my right side, but I took as many steps away.

“Well, we aren’t giving it to you.”

Tomás crossed his arms and whipped his locs over his shoulder.

Somewhere in the apartment building, a tenant slowly opened their door before promptly slamming it shut.

The Vyrkos I silenced was panicking downstairs, listening to our conversation.

I could taste his internal questions as if I was licking them from his lips.

I pointed, giving the dark urge permission.

And Tomás dropped his haughty posture for one of defense. His feet spread into a fighting stance, but against a weapon that transcended the laws of corporeal form, there was no fighting, was there?

The ache behind my eyes grew in intensity, as I held a portion of myself downstairs and here, but I had enough to do this. To take this and not fail .

“ Meline ,” Elián barked, infusing his voice with command. But now wasn’t the time. I pointed another finger at him, this one a warning to stay back, and even with every muscle in his jaw and neck tensing, he obeyed.

Tomás hissed as my power wrapped around the strap of the pack, retrieving it like a faithful pet. The Shadow stumbled a few paces backward, right into the wall, as I pulled his bag and the head back to me.

I rolled my eyes as I situated the leather strap on my shoulder. “I did not harm you.”

“No, but the threat was fucking there!”

El joined in, chastising. “Meline, that was?—”

“Both of you, shut the fuck up,” I snapped and beckoned Tana. “ We are going.” Because whatever piss-poor band of city guards Vharas could scrape up would certainly come at some point.

Thankfully, my cousin did not ask questions. She stood with me.

Tomás remained at the wall, but Elián loomed over us. And though exhaustion was seeping into my bones, I held my head high.

“You are not leaving with our proof of kill.”

“I couldn’t give a shit about that. I’m trying to right what you have now ruined.”

His fangs flashed and his palm closed around my throat. Heat . “ I did not ruin. And you will not run.” He exerted no external pressure—no, all of that was beneath my skin, swimming in my blood. “You’ve lost this contract fairly.”

“ Our contract was to retrieve Von Herron and bring him to our employer. Alive . This head is our chance to still get the information we need.” Blackwood hadn’t stated his intentions, but he knew Paschal enough to have some sort of vendetta.

Some score to settle. If he didn’t know where these Folk were, then maybe he could point us in a clearer direction.

I was grasping at seawater, hoping to hold onto enough without drowning under its weight, but I had to try .

Elián went still, forcing me to do the same, as he searched me with unflinching intensity. He asked no questions, begged no clarification. And after nine shared breaths, his hold tightened a fraction, then released entirely.

I didn’t dally, exiting Von Herron’s apartment the way we’d come.

ELIáN

I had yet to make full sense of what my queen told us. Why their contract, to be fulfilled with a live Von Herron to take back to their employer, was so important. What information they needed. But the wildness coming off of Meline was explanation enough.

Truthfully, the contract mattered naught, to me. The coin, I did not need. The honor, I did not crave. It had been a way to pass the time, then a path toward her, then… a way to spend time. With her.

Now, she led us out of the building, skirting around the bodies littering the corridors and entryway.

The Vyrkos Tom and I had seen stalking the streets when we arrived was plastered to the wall, snakes of Death holding him in the air and muffling whatever he was mumbling to himself, to us. He appeared paler than last I had seen him, his lids dropping over his enraged blood-red eyes.

My queen did not even glance at him. She flicked her fingers his way, and the Death released him, dispersing like fog disturbed and slithering along the wall and floor back toward her.

“You—what the fuck !” The Vyrkos, Fenix, sputtered, but none of us answered.

I could feel my brother’s annoyance, Tana’s and Meline’s determination.

So, we ignored him and proceeded onto the street.

It was not my instinct, to leave so brazenly, but my queen appeared past caring.

With blood on our clothing, we joined the night.

Vharas was a seedy place, grimy in a way few other cities were, and if I had not experienced many of the horrors of the world, I may have been surprised by the apathy with which her people lived.

The way they looked past evidence of how dangerous we were and instead reflected hunger for what we could give, what they could take.

We went on like that for some time, following my queen to the outskirts of the main city, then further still. We did not tire, and even Tom knew not to protest. It was then, however, Fenix made himself known again .

“I’ve been talking to you, you entitled brutes ! You owe me a fucking apology!”

His fussing was louder, now that we were in a quieter area, yet he carried on with volume as if we were in the busy city center.

I bared my fangs without turning toward him.

His outrage was very low in my order of priorities, with the top being Meline, who held her shoulders high, fingers trembling, and soft, intelligible whispers escaping.

Death swam close to the surface, even wafting off of her like smoke from a fire.