His voice was low and soothing, and it didn’t match the blazing rage in his red eyes.
“And now we both look like fools,” he muttered. “I underestimated your strength and you underestimated the gorge.”
I shuddered, unable to control myself as I cried. I let it all out, a heart-wrenching mixture of sadness, pain, and hopelessness, all symptoms of chunks of my soul being literally eaten by daemons. I no longer had a say in how I reacted, in how I looked at the world. Not even in how I felt.
“You need to listen to me from now on, if you want to get out of here alive. Do you understand me?” he asked with a frown.
I managed a nod. He scooped me off the ground and took me in his arms. I was soft like a blob against his hard chest, his fingers digging into my flesh as he held me close and ran back toward his cave.
“You should’ve stayed in your cage, you stupid girl.” His voice sounded farther away, though I could see him clearly. His face was mere inches from mine.
My head fell back, my neck no longer able to support its weight. Pain seared through my body, still, to the point where I feared I’d either go numb or into shock.
My eyes hurt as they rolled back, and Zane tried not to jostle me too much.
I blacked out, relieved to escape consciousness and the torment of my chewed-up soul.
Harper
(Daughter of Hazel & Tejus)
Jax and Hansa kept asking Tobiah and Sienna questions about the daemons. Avril pulled a map of the gorges out of her backpack, for Tobiah to show us the best routes out of the Valley of Screams, and compare notes, so to speak.
The daemon obliged and gave us a brief rundown of which parts of this particular gorge were the most dangerous. We were six miles away from the western border, which opened out to wild lands inhabited by Imen tribes.
“What do you think?” I asked Caspian in a low voice. “Do you believe them?”
He gave me a sideways glance, his left eyebrow raised.
“Do you remember what I told you earlier tonight?” He replied with another question, prompting me to take a deep breath and stifle an eye roll.
“‘Trust no one’.” I mockingly imitated his grave tone, then frowned. I looked at Tobiah and Sienna, who were currently engaged in showing Jax and Hansa potential areas where Fiona might be, based on the daemons’ hunting patterns and Tobiah’s knowledge of the caves. “What can we do, then?”
The couple seemed genuine, but, as Caspian had suggested, we had to be mindful of whom we trusted, regardless of their apparently innocent intentions.
“Keep following your leads, but pay attention to your instincts, as well,” he replied. “For instance, what is your instinct telling you about Sienna and Tobiah?”
I took in the Exiled Mara and the daemon’s expressions, looking for signs of deceit or nervous tics of any kind, but nothing grabbed my attention. There was Tobiah’s discomfort at the sight of our weapons, and clear wariness toward Blaze, from both him and Sienna. Whenever the fire dragon took a step closer, their shoulders tensed.
Looking at it from their point of view, I probably would’ve been just as uncomfortable in the presence of a dragon that had the ability to turn me into ashes in a matter of seconds.
“They seem genuine,” I murmured. “But I have my doubts, as I cannot corroborate their stories in any way. I only have their word to go on. Nevertheless, they’re our only source of information right now, since you’re so hellbent on keeping your mouth shut and my entire team in the dark.”
Caspian scoffed and opened his mouth to say something in return, but Patrik joined us, his brow furrowed and his hands behind his back.
“What would you do, Lord Kifo?” Patrik asked. He’d heard us talk just now, and was most likely looking for some input. It was a smart question to ask, I thought to myself, since Caspian had been unresponsive to previous probes. “If you were in our shoes, if you were a member of GASP tasked with helping the Exiled Maras and getting one of your agents back from the daemons’ claws, what would be your next move?”
“If I were in charge of this team, I’d drag you all back to Calliope and cut my losses,” Caspian retorted, pursing his lips. “But clearly, that’s not going to happen. Even I can understand that now, given how stubborn you all are. Hence, your best option is to leave Sienna and Tobiah behind and keep following that sluggish tracking spell until it leads you to Fiona. You can notify House Roho of Sienna’s fate once you return to Azure Heights. If what Tobiah says is true, then you don’t want to draw any daemons out here to hurt him and Sienna. They’re trying to live in peace here, away from the madness and savagery of both their worlds. After all, Sienna’s fine and happy, and you have your missing vampire to worry about.”
The tracking spell glowed about three hundred yards away. I could still see it from here.
“I agree,” Jax chimed in, his conversation with Tobiah and Sienna finished. “It’s best to leave these two behind and let Vincent know when we see him. Speaking of which, any sign of the rest of our group yet, Harper?”
I used my True Sight to scan our surroundings, but I didn’t see Vincent or the Correction Officers anywhere. I shook my head in response. Sienna handed me the note for her brother, folded into a small square, which I shoved in my back pocket.
“Thank you.” Sienna nodded and gave us a weak smile, moving back to Tobiah’s side. “I hope my brother will stop looking for me once he reads that message. I wouldn’t want him to get hurt or worse by coming out here in search of me.”
“You two should find a better place to live, though.” Hansa gazed around with a mild frown. “This may be beautiful, but it’s no home with all the daemons lurking around.”
“Okay, time to go,” Jax announced, then looked at Sienna and Tobiah and shrugged. “Stay out of sight, I guess. And I genuinely hope we don’t cross paths again. This world is already far more complicated than we anticipated.”
Sienna gave him a sheepish smile, while Tobiah frowned and offered a brief nod.
We got back on our horses. Hansa and Jax’s led the way, while Scarlett and Patrik, Blaze and Caia, and Avril and Heron followed. I climbed into the saddle, my muscles suddenly tensing as Caspian resumed his place behind me, with one arm firmly locked around my waist.
Sienna and Tobiah watched us for a minute or so, before they disappeared inside one of the crevices. The sun was rising slowly over the Valley of Screams, but we had enough shade in that gorge to not be worried about wearing goggles just yet. We only kept our hoods on as our horses galloped through the ravine, and caught up with the tracking spell.
I kept my senses alert. I listened to every sound. I caught every scent in the air. I continuously scanned the area, both behind and ahead. And I occasionally glanced over my shoulder and found Caspian watching me, his jade eyes unyielding and unwilling to betray any emotion.
I wondered if sentries could achieve mind-melds with Maras. We couldn’t read their emotions, nor could we control their minds. But would I be able to join my soul with one? It wasn’t an impossible premise. I’d already learned that I could syphon off a Mara.
What am I thinking?
I’d told Caspian earlier that mind-melding was a very intimate thing for us sentries. It was something my parents had accomplished after they got together. And now I was thinking about it, while feeling his breath on my neck.
I shook my head, mentally slapping the thought out of my brain.
Fiona
(Daughter of Benedict & Yelena)
I felt warm and cozy, despite the throbbing pain rippling through my body and clutching at my chest. I also felt drained and weak. The darkness gave me comfort. I found temporary relief in the sound of wood crackling in a fire and the murmur of water nearby.
My eyes peeled open. I blinked a couple of times, adjusting to the dim orange light flickering on the left. I was wrapped up in soft furs, and I could see knees bent on either side of me, along with a pair of strong arms locked around my torso.
 
; I was being held close by someone. I felt the hard muscles of his chest and abs molded against my back. The memory of what had happened made my muscles stiffen. I tried to move, but the body keeping me there, by the fire, didn’t budge.
“Don’t move.” Zane’s gruff voice rumbled in my ear.
I stilled, my gaze darting around, as I realized where I was. I’d been brought back to the cave, after the daemons had consumed parts of my soul.
That’s what this pain is…
“Drink this,” he said, bringing a stone bowl to my lips. “It’ll help.”
There was blood in the bowl, a dark shade of crimson. Its aroma filled my lungs with the promise of healing, a rich body with underlayers of various spices that reminded me of the blood I’d had at the Spring Ball—only this was headier. He pushed the dish against my lips.
I gulped it all down, and I felt it settle in my stomach before it spread out in marvelous heatwaves that relaxed my muscles and muted the pain in my chest and limbs. I moaned softly, relief washing over me. I could finally breathe without feeling a thousand knives piercing my heart.
I melted against the furs, though my mind was already processing other potential escape methods. My body and my tattered soul were at odds with each other. My instincts told me to run, but the holes that had been burned through my existence upon the consumption of my soul were still closing.
Whatever was in that blood, it soothed me.
I’ll worry about getting out of here in a minute or two.
“It tastes different,” I mumbled, the back of my head resting on Zane’s chest.
I should be screaming and flailing and gouging his eyes out.
“Define ‘different’,” he replied quietly, his chin resting on my forehead, while his hands massaged my wrists. Had I not been this daemon’s prisoner, I could’ve sworn I was being pampered in a Nerakian spa. It felt weird, but eerily good. I knew it was just momentary relief.
I’ll scream and flail and stab his eyes later. This feels good.
“It’s full and rich… like coffee… but a little sweet and spicy. It’s... different,” I managed, my eyes half-closed as I further relaxed in his grip and enjoyed the tranquilizing effect of the blood on my now-muted inner pain.
I wiggled my feet, sensing that my ankle had already healed.
“I worried about that ankle at first,” he said, as he’d felt me move, “but then I saw the wound close by itself and figured you vampires heal just like the Maras. That’s a good trait to have.”
“My soul,” I sighed, feeling better, closer to complete with each passing minute.
“Yes, you had slivers of your soul eaten by one of those daemons,” Zane replied, and I sensed the angry tremor in his voice. “Lucky for you, I tracked your scent and found you before they could finish the job. Stupid girl, you nearly got yourself killed, and trust me, having your soul devoured is not a good way to die.”
“I believe you,” I groaned, trying to move again, but his arms tightened around me. “I think I know what that feels like… And you… You saved me.”
He did. He saved me. He slit the daemons’ throats and brought me back here…
“I told you not to move yet,” he growled. “You’re still weak; you are literally missing pieces of your soul. But there’s hope for you. Partial consumption is rarely permanent, especially since in your case they barely got anything before I killed them. It would take a long time for your soul to heal on its own, though, which is why I gave you that blood to drink. It’s daemon blood. My blood.”
I nodded, then swallowed as the actual fact sank in.
I’d just drunk Zane’s blood.
“Is that why it feels so… strange?” I asked, trying to analyze all the reactions that my body displayed under his influence.
“Yes,” he replied. “Daemons digest souls the same way in which they digest regular food. It gets absorbed into our bloodstream. It’s pure energy, and souls react to each other. Once my blood enters your stream, the soul particles it contains simply spread out and fill the gaps in your being.”
“I think they’re already doing that…”
“Good. It means your soul is reacting positively to my blood. You silly, lucky girl.” He scoffed.
While it did feel odd to accept that someone’s soul was flowing through me, I also relished the soothing effect of his unconventional treatment. I then figured it was as good a time as any to try to ask some questions. After all, an injury had never stopped me from gathering intel before—and it wouldn’t now, even when I was lying in the arms of a daemon, with a tattered soul. I tilted my head to see his face, and found him watching me intently, the fire next to us reflected in his red eyes.
“Why did you help me? Why didn’t you just let me die? What do the daemons want?” I asked, my voice still weak.
A handful of seconds went by as he said nothing, then smirked.
“You still don’t understand, do you?” he replied. “You’re in over your head, Fiona. You shouldn’t ask questions. You won’t like the answers.”
“I’m just trying to understand your motivation.” I shrugged. “You seem different from the other daemons.”
“That is a dangerous assumption to make, little vampire.”
“I don’t think so. After all, I’m still here. In fact, you stopped your fellow daemons from eating my soul, and you’ve even given me your own blood to help me heal.”
He held my gaze for a while, then looked at the fire crackling next to us. His shoulders dropped, but his grip on me was firm.
“Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing, either.” He sighed. I tried not to smile, counting this as a minor victory. “Your soul smells so damn good. Every fiber in my body is telling me to consume you, to take it all and kill you. But you’re a strange creature, and I can’t figure you out. Maybe after I understand what makes you tick, I will eat your soul, then rip your chest open and feast on your still-beating heart, too.”
A chill traveled down my spine. My instincts were coming back to me. My defenses were gradually building themselves back up, and he felt my body tense. His eyes found mine, and I noticed a muscle twitching in his jaw.
“There were so many daemons in the prison last night,” he muttered. “They’d all caught your scent. They all wanted a piece of you. But I wanted you the most, and I do not share my food with anyone.”
The recent memory of Zane sharing his wild boar with me came to mind, a direct contradiction to what he’d just said.
“Why were you all in the prison last night? Did the Maras let you in?” I asked.
He didn’t answer, but he narrowed his eyes. His face inched closer to mine. I held my breath, racking my brain for another way out of this predicament. I had a feeling my comfort was only temporary.
“What do you intend to do with me? You mentioned me getting out of here,” I added, my gaze wandering to the tips of his ivory horns.
He pulled his head back, cocking it to one side, his expression moody.
“I won’t eat your soul. For now,” he replied bluntly. “But I might change my mind and come after you later.”
More chills trickled down my spine, my nerves stretching in response to the prospect of having my soul eaten and experiencing that torturous agony again. I shuddered, and he felt it. The corner of his mouth twitched as he tightened his arms around me, as if trying to reassure me that he’d said he might come after me later, not that he would.
Yeah, not making me feel better…
“I can’t keep you here forever, either,” he continued nonchalantly. “There are too many daemons around, and I can’t waste my time making sure you don’t escape again. Besides, I still have work in the area, and babysitting you would be a nuisance.”
My teeth were grinding as I tried to skip past the “babysitting” part.
“What work is that?” I asked.
“I thought I told you not to ask questions. You won’t like the answers.” He smirked.
“Life isn’
t always about getting what we like, anyway,” I retorted. “I need some truth here. You can’t keep me in the dark.”
“Of course, you won’t make this any easier, will you?”
I opened my mouth to object, but he brought his hand up to my face. I caught a glimpse of an orange powder in his palm. I didn’t get a chance to react before he blew it in my face.
I wheezed and coughed, then completely mellowed in his arms. My muscles were mush. Whatever that powder was, it was more powerful than the red one. It nearly paralyzed me, turning me into a ragdoll.
Zane hauled me up, then threw me over his shoulder. I groaned but couldn’t formulate clear sentences. The orange powder had disabled my speech, too. I was putty in his hands, and I couldn’t even speak.
I hate you.
“Time to take you back to your tribe,” he said, then pulled the hood over my head, grabbed my belt with knives off the ground, and sauntered out of the cave.
“Wha… Why…” I managed as he carried me through the gorge.
I couldn’t even look up. My neck muscles were too weak. But the gorge was still shaded, the sun still lazily rising in the east.
“My scouts saw your people five miles east of here,” he explained. I got a good view of his naked back and the pebbled ground he walked on. My cheeks caught fire as I found myself staring at his glutes moving beneath his loincloth, and the smooth lines of his tanned calves.
“I… talk…” I tried, but my tongue worked like a lump of stone. As in, it didn’t.
He chuckled lightly, his left arm tight around my thighs, while my arms hung limply over his back.
“Yeah, I toned you down a little too much, didn’t I?” He sounded amused. “I just wanted to enjoy a little peace and quiet with you, without all your questions and silly bravado.”
I hate you.
“Worry not, little vampire,” he added. “You’ll be back with your friends soon enough. As much as I’d like it, keeping you around is a bit of a logistical nightmare. They brought the dragon out, and if they go any deeper, the whole gorge will blow up. It’s best if I bring you to them now; it’s too early in the morning for such unnecessary hostilities.”