Deadmen Walking

  “Beautiful. I so look forward to these deep, meaningful discussions and motivational speeches from you that leave me bullocks completely shrunk and shriveled.”

  Laughing, Devyl lowered his visor for battle. “Better the bullocks than the brains. And better both than your courage.”

  Bart snorted. “Not sure about that. Especially given what’s coming at us.” He saluted Devyl with his sword. “In case I go down and forget to say it … been an honor serving with you, sir.”

  “And with you, Mr. Meers. Here’s to taking them before they take us, and if they do, making sure they join us for the descent into hell.”

  “Amen, coz. Amen.” And with that, he left Devyl to head straight into the fray.

  As Devyl started forward, a foreign chill went up his spine. He turned to see if it was Zumari, but the man was already embroiled in a fierce fight. For a moment, he thought it might be Vine.

  Until a shadow on his left moved.

  Now that was all kinds of peculiar. Scowling, he braced himself for an assault.

  Instead, the shadow came to wrap around him and whisper in his ear with a soft, feminine lilt. “Thorn has sent me with a gift for you. He wants you to know that he hasn’t abandoned you, but will be here as soon as he’s able.” With those words spoken, she pressed something into his palm.

  Then, as suddenly as she’d appeared, she was gone with nothing more than a mere breezy kiss across his flesh that was fully covered by his armor.

  His scowl deepened the instant he opened his hand and saw what she’d given him.

  Michael’s Seraph medallion. The very one Cameron had entrusted to Thorn.

  So there it was.…

  He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, what without Miss Jack being here and all. It didn’t seem right for it to be returned now. And with that thought came the deluge of everything they had failed to accomplish. They hadn’t found the bodies from the Fleet disaster. The plat-eyes still had control of those poor bastards. He’d allowed Vine to escape her prison by not stopping it. Gadreyal had captured both Cameron and her brother—two mortals born with Michael’s blood.

  And another gate had fractured.…

  I seriously reek at my job.

  Why Thorn had chosen him for this, he did not know. Perhaps the beast was a masochist. Or he’d taken so many blows to the head in battle that they’d finally addled him.

  Devyl hadn’t felt this low or incompetent since the day he’d found his sister. Despair threatened to overwhelm him.

  Until he glanced to Mara, who watched on with terrified fretting. I haven’t lost anything yet. Other than a little dignity, and that he could take. Honestly, he didn’t mourn its loss at all.

  Just don’t let Mara get hurt. Losing her was the one thing he’d never come back from, and he knew it.

  Determined to see this through, he let out a fierce war cry and ran straight to Gadreyal.

  *   *   *

  “Marcelina?”

  Mara went cold at the sound of her sister’s voice. Prepared to give nothing away as to her thoughts or feelings, she turned toward her and was immediately taken aback by her sister’s incredible beauty. Strange how she’d forgotten just what a graceful, seductive creature Vine was. Why Duel would prefer her over Vine’s confident femme-fatale persona, she couldn’t imagine.

  The man must be insane.

  “Vine.” She was proud of herself for keeping her voice so steady and calm.

  “You didn’t free me as you said you would, sister.”

  It was only then that Mara realized Vine had used her powers to completely freeze William beside her. He couldn’t move at all.

  Wanting to check on him, but terrified her sister would kill him if she did, she diverted Vine’s attention as best she could. “I was trying. Your friends sank my boat before I could get near your island.”

  Vine tsked at her. “Think you I believe that lie?”

  “We had a bargain, did we not?”

  “Aye, we did.” Vine’s gaze went to Duel as he fought against the Cimmerian army. “But it seems you’ve been distracted. Not that I blame you. He is a fine specimen of manhood. Well formed and skilled in all the right ways.”

  Mara barely caught the urge to slap her sister, and that wave of unexpected violence shocked her. She stilled her breathing and gathered her composure before it betrayed her and got them all killed. “You’ve never spoken so highly of him before.”

  And then Mara saw it. Only a flash, but Vine’s perfect, porcelain complexion was lined with the black veins that exposed her sister’s illness.

  “Are you Wintering?”

  The veins flashed again. This time, the black twined over her flesh like a living creature, slithering its way to her lips and eyes to turn them jet black. Even her Titian hair and the sclera of her eyes turned.

  Mara wasn’t sure what stunned her most about that. The fact that her sister was that far gone and she’d missed it, or the fact that Vine could be so beautiful even while disease-ridden.

  Unaware of her physical transformation, Vine glared at her. “What lies has he told you about me that you believe?”

  Mara wanted to laugh at the thought of Duel gossiping about anyone, but Vine was being serious. Dead serious.

  The Wintering had taken the deepest root imaginable. Was any part of this rotted creature the sister she’d once known? “What happened to you?”

  “What happened to me?” She laughed bitterly. “I was locked in a hole for hundreds of years! You … you”—she stabbed Mara in the chest with a long black fingernail—“my husband coddled and sent into a sleeping trance to protect. Meanwhile, he made sure I was to be tortured! Held so that I couldn’t escape!”

  “You murdered him, Vine.”

  She sneered at Mara. “Have you any idea what he had planned?”

  “Nay.”

  “He was going to hand us over to our enemies.”

  Mara froze at the mere thought. Surely Duel would never have done such a thing.…

  “Pardon?”

  “Aye. He wanted to put down his sword and start a family! Can you imagine? Dón-Dueli of the Dumnonii … the Dark One … the World-King wanted peace.” She spat the word to make it sound like the worst sort of insult.

  Wincing, Mara hated herself for ever doubting Duel. “We are Deruvian Vanir. ’Tis what we dream of. You should have encouraged it.”

  “As I did my first husband? A true Deruvian!” Her sneer lengthened, contorting her face into that of a hideous crone. “Let me tell you what such peace brought my first husband, child. A grave! And it’s what would have become of us all!” She grabbed Mara’s hand. “Now give me what I need to bury him, once and for all, or I’ll make sure you die in a way you won’t come back from!”

  Mara sucked her breath in sharply at the threat. She wanted to deny that this was her sister. But as those words rang in her ears, others followed.

  Duel was right. Vine had never loved him. She’d never really been capable of love. Even when they were children, her sister had been petty. Mara had overlooked Vine’s faults, especially after so many of their family had been slaughtered and burned. Their charred ashes scattered to the winds so that they couldn’t regenerate.

  She’d convinced herself that Duel and his kind were the real evil in the world.

  But evil didn’t pick and choose who to corrupt. It took root like an insidious weed that sought to destroy whatever garden it could find succor in, no matter who, what, or where that garden originated from. Evil was never picky about its host. That was why it was so important to rip it out and toss it off before it could spread and rot the garden from the inside out.

  Take over and destroy the beauty that made the garden whole and healthy.

  Tears choked her. Mayhap had she seen it sooner, she could have saved her sister. Too late now. Vine didn’t want to be saved. Unlike Duel, Vine didn’t fight against the darkness or even try to tamp it down.

  Rather, she reveled in it.
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  And Mara refused to sit back and watch Duel go down for such a worthless trifle as Vine. To see him die again while he fought so hard for others. Fought so hard against the evil that wanted him. She might not have seen the truth of him in Tintagel, but she saw him now.

  More than that, he was hers, and the one thing about Deruvians … they protected their own from any threat.

  Perhaps there’s a little Aesir in me, after all.

  She was not going to protect herself or her sister. Not anymore. And not when she had someone else who now meant more to her.

  Summoning her own armor, she faced a startled Vine.

  “What is this?” Vine asked incredulously.

  “Me choosing to oppose you and your desires. I will give you nothing, except my contempt and disdain for your behavior. Shame on you, sister. Shame on you!”

  Vine arched a black brow. “You do this and I’ll never separate your life force from Duel’s.”

  “Good. It will save me the trouble of having to bind it again later.”

  Shrieking, Vine summoned her own armor. While Mara had chosen a light blue, silver, and white for hers, Vine’s was a startling green that glowed with its unnatural power. The aura around it hummed and shimmered like a living, breathing membrane to protect her.

  But nothing was going to stop Mara from keeping Duel safe. Not today.

  Regretting her decision not to accept Duel’s offer to teach her swordplay when she’d had the chance, she summoned the only weapon she’d ever used.

  Wind and Fire wheels. Though she was a bit out of practice with them, they were the weapons her people were known for. Two half circles very similar to a chakram, they had curved spikes protruding from the blades that were made to look like sunrays or fire. And they cut through flesh, both human and demon, as easily as they cut through the wind.

  Vine’s eyes widened. “You truly plan to fight me?”

  “To keep Duel safe? Indeed.”

  “What happened to you, big sister, that you’d dare choose an Aesir over family?”

  “He’s been more family to me than you ever were.”

  That caused Vine to attack, full force. With an ear-splitting scream, she manifested her spear and went for Mara’s throat.

  Mara caught the tip against the edge of her right-hand wheel and twisted so that the protruding spike would lock to the blade. It seemed like a good idea until Vine twisted her weapon and almost wrenched Mara’s arm out of its socket.

  Crying out, Mara struggled to remain standing. She couldn’t let her sister kill her in this fight. If she did, Duel would die, too.

  Vine gave a cruel, sinister laugh. “Nay, he will not,” she said as if she’d heard Mara’s thoughts. She jerked Mara closer with her spear so that she could whisper in her ear. “News to you, big sister … I killed the bastard the day I realized he loved you so much that he sold his soul to give you your freedom so that you could live without him. He was going to tell you when I sliced his throat and then cut out his treacherous heart! That was why you lived on after he died. Why I put you into a sleeping spell.”

  “You’re lying!” Distracted by the thought, Mara turned to look out at Duel.

  The moment she did, Vine stabbed her through her stomach.

  Crying out in pain, she tried to hold her breath to keep the vicious, biting agony at bay. But it was no use. Every heartbeat drove more pain through her. Worse, Vine kept her upright and on her feet by holding on to the spear. “Half of it was a lie, dearest. I would tell you to figure out which, but you won’t live long enough for that.”

  Vine pinned Mara to the ground with her spear, then called for Strixa to join her. She flew in as an owl, then transformed into her human body.

  With a smile, Vine checked to make sure Mara was dead. Once assured, she ripped the harthfret from her throat. “Good death to you, sister.”

  Strixa arched a brow as if she disapproved and wanted to say something, but didn’t speak while Vine made her way over to Duel’s henchman. How Duel had always been able to inspire such loyalty from those around him, Vine had never understood. And this particular little tossling pet of Duel’s … he’d been a nuisance almost as much as her ex-husband, so it was time she put the bastard to use.

  Touching him on the brow, she cast her spell. “I think I shall let Duel kill you for me.”

  *   *   *

  Devyl staggered as he felt something go through him like a hot poker. It sliced through his middle and left him in agony. For a moment, he thought Gadreyal had gotten through his defenses.

  Until he realized it was something far, far worse.

  Mara was dying.

  Kicking Gadreyal away from him, he ran to find her and cursed himself for not using his powers to send her away from here, her protests be damned. As he reached Mara and William’s position, he started to yell at William for failing to keep her safe, then noticed that he was bespelled and had no way of assisting anyone.

  Not even himself.

  So he sank to his knees by her side and gathered Mara’s cold, limp body into his arms and tried to wake her.

  She didn’t move. Her skin was icy and cold. Her body completely unresponsive.

  Unable to breathe, Devyl cupped her precious cheek in his hand and pressed his forehead to hers as grief tore him asunder. In that moment, he felt shattered. Lost.

  Desolate.

  “Nay!” His eyes changed over an instant before he blasted William free from the spell holding him. “What happened!”

  “She gave Vine your harthfret? I know not what that is, but it sounded important.”

  That only confused him more as he glanced down to his sword that was comprised of his wand—the same sword that held his stone. No one had taken his harthfret. It was intact. He could feel the power emanating from it. Mara would have known she didn’t have his harthfret to give …

  Yet no sooner had that thought gone through his mind than he realized Mara’s necklace was missing from her throat. “What did you do, Mara?” Tears stung his eyes.

  Had she given it over to her sister as a dupe to protect him? He went cold at the thought.

  If Vine had her harthfret, she could kill Mara forever. There would be no way to bring her back.

  Unable to stand it, he rose with Mara’s body in his arms and handed her to William. “You better not get caught again. And you’d best make damn sure no one touches her. Do you hear me?”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Grinding his teeth against the grief and agony inside him, he balled his hand in her precious hair and bit back his tears, then teleported William and Mara to Santiago’s ship, where they’d be safe. At least he prayed for that to be so.

  That bastard had better not have gone down during their fight.

  More than that, Santiago had best keep Mara safe from all harm until this was over and Devyl could get to her.

  Furious and terrified that he wouldn’t be able to save her in spite of his magick, Devyl headed toward Gadreyal with only one thing on his mind.

  Saving the only person in this world who mattered to him. The world and all else be damned.

  “Where’s Vine?”

  “Vine who?”

  “Don’t play that game, she-bitch. I’m in no mood for it.” He raked a glare over her blood-colored armor, wanting to add more red to it. And some brain matter as well. There was nothing left inside him now except a fury so raw and potent it would not be appeased until he tasted someone’s heart and soul.

  He wasn’t selective as to whose it had to be, either. The beast within was awake and it was salivating.

  Gadreyal threw a bolt at him.

  He absorbed it and shot it back to her, with interest. Then he added another. And another. He summoned the lightning and shot it at her.

  She shrank away in terror.

  You better run, trollop! He was done with them all.

  There was no Aesir left in him now. None whatsoever.

  Devyl swept his gaze over the battl
e, seeking Vine. It was an even split as to who was winning. His Deadmen were holding their own. But the demons were fierce.

  As one of Gadreyal’s men ran at him, he shot a mage blast at the moron and disintegrated him.

  “Vine!” he snarled, wanting her head.

  “She is here.”

  He hesitated at the feminine voice in his head. “Strixa?”

  “Aye. And it’s not a trap.”

  “Why would you help me?”

  Strixa hesitated before she answered. “Vine has broken the code of sisterhood. I will not tolerate that. She has the harthfret and is planning to plant it to kill your Marcelina.”

  Devyl let out a curse as she pierced his brain with an image of where Vine was. Damn, that hurt.

  But he was grateful beyond measure.

  And it was too bad the stupid twitling didn’t have his stone instead of Mara’s. Where she was burying it would have fed his powers even more. But he had no idea what it would do to Mara.

  Tiveden, or Tyr’s Wood, was said to be some of the most fertile land here. It’s where the god had once planted his own seeds to grow his warriors. Those preternatural soldiers who’d been born of Tyr’s brook now comprised the bulk of his uncle’s Royal Guard.

  That gave him an idea. Pulling the Seraph medallion out, he placed it in the same cage as his own harthfret. The moment the two touched, it sent a jolt through his entire body. One that left him breathless and warm.

  Heat spread throughout his body, and for a moment, he heard more than just the aether around him. He could taste it, even.

  It also brought him to Gadreyal’s full attention as she felt the awakening of the Seraph blood mixing with his. That caused every member of her horde to disengage from their opponent and head toward him.

  Which was great for his men.

  For him? Not so much.

  Belle wiped the blood from her sword before she and Sancha came to take up positions by his side. “What’s it to be, Captain?”

  “All-out bloodletting. No prey, no pay.”

  With that, Bart threw out his hand and raised his own army of soldiers made of blackthorns. They twisted up from the ground and into monstrous beasts, complete with thorny swords, standing ready to fight to the end.