I shook my head, not sure where to start. “I need a minute.” Leaning forward, I pressed my hands against my face.
Zayne reached over with one hand, wrapping it around my knee as he hit the roads. “I’m here.”
Nodding, I closed my eyes. Those were the only two words spoken the entire ride back to the compound. Whatever Zayne sensed, he knew it wasn’t the time to push. And that was good because I didn’t know what to say.
For the most part, I was numb. Or maybe some part of me had already accepted the truth, gotten all up and friendly with the idea when I started putting two and two together earlier, but Roth’s betrayal cut deep.
He’d known this whole entire time, since he’d come back. Every time he’d spoken with me, he could’ve told me, especially when I’d gone to him last time. He could’ve told me. But why would he? I’d trusted him. As stupid as that was, I’d trusted him and if he’d found proof beyond a doubt that I had been responsible, it would’ve been easy to get to me.
God, all those times I’d been alone with him. The day I’d been in the bottom of the Palisades with him, in his loft... I shuddered. He could’ve “taken care” of me any of those times. And that hurt because, damn, it was honesty time. Even though he’d rejected me like I was faulty brakes and there was Zayne and every wonderful thing I felt for him, I still—deep down, nestled in a part of me I held close—cared for Roth and those feelings were stitched inside me.
There was really nothing left to do but go rock in the corner somewhere. Okay. There was a lot to do. Like for starters, what next? Another shudder rocked me as I curled my fingers into the hair at my scalp.
“Layla?”
At the sound of Zayne’s voice, I lifted my head and realized we were sitting in the garage at the compound. The car was off. I had no idea how long we’d be in here, but chilly air had seeped into the interior.
I looked at him and he was pale, but his gaze was steady. “Let’s get inside,” he said. “And we’ll talk. All right?”
The house was silent as we headed in, passing Morris in the foyer. He was carrying a pot of poinsettias into one of the living rooms. Upstairs, Zayne closed the door behind us.
I turned just as he crossed the room and his arms circled my shoulders. He didn’t say anything as he drew me against his chest. For a few peaceful moments, I leaned into him, closing my eyes. When I was with him, when he held me like this, I felt like I had before all of this began. But I really couldn’t live in the past.
Drawing back, I lifted my head, preparing myself to tell him what the crone had said and what Roth had admitted to. I had no idea where we’d go from here, but everything had changed and I had to deal with that.
I didn’t get to speak, though.
Zayne cupped my face with both hands, smoothing his thumbs along my cheekbones. My eyes fell shut again and as his breath danced over my lips, the troubles eased off, temporarily retreating into the background. Kissing him shouldn’t be high on the priority list, but he was safe with me, and I needed to be reminded of that in this moment when I felt like a monster.
His mouth brushed over mine in the sweetest way possible, and my lips immediately opened to him. A deep sound rumbled from him as he deepened the kiss. I breathed in his taste, moaning against his lips as we both took the kiss deeper.
A tremor coursed through Zayne’s hands, and his fingers curled in, digging into my cheeks. The spark of pain snapped my eyes open. His were wide, unseeing and I...I felt it.
It gathered in the pit of my stomach, like a tight ball of energy. I grasped his wrists, hoping to break his hold before it was too late.
But it was already too late.
I could feel Zayne’s essence—his pureness—and it tasted like peppermint. The tremor in his hands spread to his body. Panic dug in with nasty claws. I struggled against his bruising hold, but he was locked on.
And I was taking his soul.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The purity of Zayne’s soul, the power in it, hit every cell in my body and the demon inside me soaked it up like a flower thirsting for water and sunlight.
Horror seized me as his pupils dilated until there was only a thin slice of blue. I was taking his soul—taking Zayne’s. His body shook as his hands—his claws—dug into my cheeks. Fiery pain sliced through me as wet, warm liquid spilled down my face. I had to stop this. In an act of desperation, I slammed my knee into his stomach.
He broke free, lurching back. A ghastly shade of white replaced his golden complexion. His lips parted.
“Zayne...” I reached for him, but he went down before I could stop it.
His body hit the floor with a heavy thump and he didn’t move. Not even a twitch. Terror flooded my senses, erasing the pain. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way. It didn’t make sense. We’d kissed before and I hadn’t fed, but this time—oh God—this time there had been no hesitation. The moment his lips had touched mine, I had done the unthinkable. I wasn’t latched on to him for long, but the damage...the damage had been done.
And part of his soul swirled inside me, a glowing ball of warmth and light that was almost too beautiful to comprehend.
I never felt uglier, more monstrous, than I did in that moment.
Dropping to my knees beside his prone body, I placed my hands on his chest. I couldn’t feel any movement as I grasped his shoulders. “Zayne! Come on, Zayne! No. Oh God, no.” His head lolled to the side as I shook him. “Zayne!”
There was no response. Nothing.
Panicking, I shot to my feet and raced to my bedroom door. Throwing it open, I wasn’t even sure what I screamed, but I screamed something that was answered by pounding feet. Within seconds, Wardens crested the top of the stairs.
Dez’s eyes widened. “Jesus, Layla, your face!”
That wasn’t important. I whirled around, heading for my bedroom. “Please! You have to help him. Please!”
Dez followed at breakneck speed. When he saw Zayne on the floor, he turned ghost-white. “What happened, Layla?”
I dropped to Zayne’s side as Nicolai and several other Wardens filled the room. Slipping my hands under his head, I blinked through the haze of tears. “I don’t know how it happened. He kissed me, but—”
“Oh God,” Dez whispered, placing his hand on Zayne’s chest. He lowered his ear over his parted lips. “Come on, man, come on.”
My entire body shook as tears streamed, stinging when they made contact with the wounds on my cheeks. “Please. You have to help him. Please.” I looked up, my blurry gaze moving over the faces of the Wardens. Danika was by the door, her hands placed against her mouth, her eyes full of horror. “Please...”
And then Abbot was there, pushing past the Wardens. He drew up short, his mouth dropping open. He stumbled a step, his large hand flying to his chest. “Son?”
There was no answer from Zayne, and a ragged sob rose from the depths of my soul. My heart cracked wide-open. “I don’t understand...”
Abbot raised his gaze to me. “You...you did this?”
I curled my hands around Zayne’s, shoulders shaking. “It wasn’t supposed to happen. He kissed me—”
He shot forward so fast I didn’t even see him move or feel the blow until I crashed through the dollhouse. Wood splintered and broke as I hit the floor.
“Abbot!” Dez shouted, shooting forward. As he moved to get between us, Abbot hit him across the chest with a broad sweep of his arm, knocking him into the wall.
“Stay out of my way,” Abbot warned as he stalked forward. “Geoff. You know what to do.”
I stumbled to my feet, pain firing through my senses as Geoff darted from the room. “It was...an accident.”
“That is my son—my only son!” Abbot roared, shaking the photos on the wall. “I brought you into my home, protected you and this is how you repay me!”
Backing up, I raised my hands as if that could ward him off. “I’m sorry. This wasn’t supposed...to happen.”
Rage spread like bl
ood across his face. “Elijah was right. I should’ve let him put you down the moment we found you.”
The words stung, but I didn’t have time to fully feel their effect. Abbot reached for me and as I lurched to the side, the demon inside me pushed hard against my skin and bone. Like the night of Paimon’s attack, there was no hesitation. The change that came over me was too powerful to fight.
“Stop!” Danika screeched. “Please! She would never hurt Zayne, not on purpose.”
Her protests fell on deaf ears as Abbot advanced on me.
Instinct kicked in. If I stayed in this room, I’d be dead. There was murder in Abbot’s stare and the demon inside me wanted to live. It wanted to fight, to rip through the roomful of Wardens, but it also knew it was outnumbered.
The back of my shirt tore as my wings spread out from behind me. Fangs punched through my gums and my hands lengthened into claws. Someone in the room cursed as I crouched, kicking off the floor. I just missed Abbot’s reach as I landed on the other side of him.
I spared a quick glanced toward Zayne. Nicolai was by his side and I thought—I hoped—I saw his chest rise in a shallow breath, but there wasn’t time. The doorway had never seemed so far away before, so out of reach. My fingers scraped down the door just as my legs went out from underneath me. There wasn’t even a second to brace myself. I went down hard, my head cracking off the doorjamb. Black bursts darkened my vision as I lay there stunned.
Maddox was on me, flipping me over, and I blinked slowly. All I saw were wings the color of the sky before a storm as he hovered over me. Two heavily clawed hands punched the floor on either side of my head. He threw his head back, muscles straining and popping out of his neck as I slammed my knees into his midsection, knocking him back.
I popped up. Wet warmth trickled down my face. Everything spun as I rushed through the bedroom, reaching out and slamming the door shut behind me. Each step felt like a spike being driven through my head. Pain consumed me but instinct drove me to overlook it.
Vaulting over the banister, I propelled myself into the air. My wings unfurled, slowing the decent. I landed with a crash in the foyer, my feet denting the hardwood floors. To my left a Warden blocked the door to the living room, where the soft cries of the toddlers could be heard.
I ran for the door and just as I reached it, Geoff barreled forward. I whipped around, preparing to defend myself. His hand shot out and a small glass jar flew from his hand. I raised my arms, but it was too late. The jar exploded against my chest in a shower of glass and a milky-white substance rained down. The liquid immediately soaked through my torn shirt and jeans, seeping in through the pores in my skin.
Confused, I lifted my head. Geoff stood a few feet from me, breathing heavily. At the top of the stairs, Abbot appeared. I had no idea what the Hell Geoff had just tossed on me, but I didn’t have time to stand around and ask questions.
Turning, I reached for the door, prepared to give my wings a try and take flight, but as my hand came into view, I froze as the marbled skin tone was quickly replaced by lighter, pinker flesh.
My heart skipped a beat as my hands shrank back to their normal, ineffective size. The claws were gone. The fangs retracted and my wings folded into themselves. Twisting back to Geoff in dawning horror, I tried to walk, but my brain wasn’t communicating with the rest of my body.
“Bloodroot?” I whispered, recognizing the substance now.
I thought, and maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I saw remorse flicker across his face. And then there was nothing as my legs buckled out from underneath me. I was out before I hit the floor.
* * *
When I opened my eyes again, I was surprised to find that I was still alive. Or maybe I wasn’t. I was surrounded by darkness. Had my eyesight checked out? But as my senses kicked back into gear, my sight adjusted to the shadows.
The first thing I saw were bars.
Bars.
I drew in a shaky breath as my heart rate kicked up. My stomach cramped as I opened my dry mouth, trying to get a deeper breath. A musty, dank scent was heavy in the air, as well as the pungent odor of vomit. Underneath my body was a cool piece of rigid board.
I knew where I was.
Down below the compound, I was in one of the cages used to trap demons. I hadn’t even known if they’d ever been in use before. Demons never really made it close enough to the compound to end up here, but the bars would be impossible to break through. Not that I could try. I couldn’t move. The bloodroot was still kicking around in my system.
A painful, tight spasm rolled through my muscles, making my breath catch. I panted through it as I lay there. There was a steady dripping sound from somewhere behind me. The only sound that let me know that I wasn’t in some kind of black hole.
As I stared into the darkness, I saw Zayne’s pale face and dilated eyes and heard Abbot’s harsh accusation. Had I really seen Zayne’s chest move before I left the room? Was he okay? The fateful kiss and its aftermath replayed over and over again in my head. I didn’t understand. We’d kissed—a lot—before and he’d been fine. What had changed?
There were no answers in the blackness that surrounded me and my heart ached. Every time I thought his name, it cracked open and festered into an ugly wound. If I had hurt him, if I had changed who he was, I could never forgive myself. And no amount of punishment, nothing that Abbot or the other Wardens planned, would be truly fitting.
The sickness from feeding on Zayne’s soul took hold. When it passed from my system, leaving behind the chills, I screwed my eyes shut and refused to see the part of him I stole.
Was he okay?
I didn’t understand why the soul had sickened me now when it hadn’t before. There were a lot of questions, and again, no answers.
After a little while, the ache in my cheeks and sides became a steady throb. The bloodroot prevented me from shifting and had to have also affected my body’s natural healing cycle. With each passing hour, different parts of my body began to hurt and then tiny pangs of hunger spliced across my stomach. The back of my throat burned. Water. I became fixated on it, obsessing over how it would feel slipping down my throat.
Finally I could speak above a whisper and I called out. And I kept calling out until my voice gave way.
No one came.
More time passed. Hours. Days maybe? Eventually I could move my legs and then my arms. I could almost sit up without hitting the bars of the cage.
And still no one came.
Tiny squeaks, along with the rasp of sharp claws against cement, joined the sound of dripping water. Rats. They came closer, their eyes shiny in the darkness. I curled into the back of the cage, pressing into myself.
Had they forgotten about me or had they left me down here to die of thirst and hunger? The backs of my eyes burned. I didn’t want to die in the cage. I didn’t want to die at all. It wasn’t the demon in me fearing that. It was me. I wanted to live.
But more time passed and I couldn’t feel my toes. It was so cold down there and the rats drew closer, sniffing around the bars, looking for a way in.
I’d lost track of time when a small light flared to life somewhere beyond the cage, sending the rats scurrying back into the thick shadows lining the slippery walls. Muscles cramped and weak, I forced myself to turn around.
More light flooded the room, blinding my too-sensitive eyes. There was the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the cage and finally the light receded. I could see.
The Warden in front of me was young, only a year or two older than me, obviously one of the newest recruits, straight from the house where the mated Wardens lived with their children. But that wasn’t what held my rapt attention. It wasn’t even the opaque glass he carried in his hand that was probably full of much-desired water.
It was what I saw before I could pick out the Warden’s features.
I saw the pearly translucent glow around him—his soul.
“I see your soul,” I whispered in a thready voice.
Those words were lost on the Warden as he knelt in front of the cage. He glanced over his shoulder and I saw the other Warden’s aura. When it faded, I recognized Maddox. “Are you sure it’s okay to open the cage?” the younger Warden asked.
Maddox stopped by an empty cage, crossing his arms. “It’s fine. She’s not going to do anything.”
My gaze shifted back to the newer Warden. A look of doubt crossed his features as he reached for the lock, which was unnecessary. I could barely keep my head up.
“Is she supposed to look like this?” he asked.
Did I look that bad? But then my gaze dropped to my own arm. With the light, it was the first time I could see myself. Through the torn shirt, my skin was mottled—gray, black, and pink. My eyes widened. What in the holy Hell?
I tried to speak again, but the words only scratched at my dry throat.