Armageddon (Angelbound) (21 page)

“No, we’re discussing life. A new one for you and Octavia as parents, am I right?”

“Yes,” says Connor in a low voice. “You are.”

Sliding my arms around Lincoln’s waist, I bury my head in his shoulder. His body is warm and trembling.

“So this is how it happened,” I whisper.

Lincoln nods. “Father sold Maxon’s soul to Aldred in exchange for me. Then, when Aldred reached Hell, he traded Maxon again, this time for Armageddon’s mercy, which turned out to be no mercy at all.” His voice turns low and sad. “I never imagined this was Father’s secret.”

Sakura steps toward Aldred, a grim smile on her mouth. “Let’s seal the deal.” She pulls a long knife from the sleeve of her robes. “You first.”

Aldred takes Sakura’s dagger and slices his palm open. He hands the blade to Connor who does the same. Aldred and Connor grip their bloodied palms together as Sakura whispers a spell over their joined flesh. “Be it known that in exchange for a strong son and future high prince for King Connor, the first child from that high prince’s bloodline shall belong to Earl Aldred, body and soul. This shall be sealed this day along with a compulsion to never speak of it again. Do you so agree?”

Connor and Aldred reply in unison. “We agree.”

A flash of red light erupts from where their palms touch. The young Sakura nods. “It is done.” She bows to them both. “I shall now take my leave.” With that, she disappears.

Aldred steps away from Connor and laughs. “Odd little minx, isn’t she?”

“Not the words I’d use, but the sentiment is true enough.”

“Octavia will have good news for you in a month, I swear.”

Connor smiles. “A son, yes. She’ll be thrilled.” He shifts his weight awkwardly from foot to foot. “I should return. Goodbye, Aldred.” Connor starts to march away.

“Goodbye, friend.” Aldred watches Connor march away through the underbrush. “Oh, and one more thing?”

Connor pauses and turns around, a wide smile on his face. “Yes?”

“When we’re in court next time, make sure I’m the first to make my requests known. You haven’t been giving me any chance to speak as of late.”

A long silence follows as Connor’s smile disappears. The color visibly drains from his face. “And what if I don’t?”

“Your future grandchild will die.”

Connor’s face reddens with rage. “I thought you would never touch a hair on our child’s head?”

“You wanted to believe that to take the deal, so I fed it to you. But I’ll do anything I want to our spawn if you displease me. Anything.”

“Damn you, Aldred!” Connor bellows. “I will make you pay for this. Octavia and I aren’t through with you.” He wraps his thick arm about Aldred’s throat and drags him toward the cliff’s edge.

“Do it, I dare you,” gasps Aldred. “My soul still holds the power over your grandchild. I’ll drag the little whelp straight to Hell the moment it’s born.”

Connor pauses at the edge of the cliff, Aldred’s body half-hanging over the edge. “You won’t.” Still, his grip on Aldred’s throat loosens.

“I will and you know it. Unless you don’t wish a child or grandchild. In which case, toss me over, I dare you.”

Connor releases his hold and steps away. “Damn you, Aldred.”

“That’s a foregone conclusion, I’m afraid.” Aldred rocks back on his heels. “Back to my question. Will I be first to speak?”

“Aldred!”

“You don’t want to be on my bad side. Now, more than ever.”

“I’ll consider the proposal.” Turning around, Connor starts to march off again, more quickly this time.

“Oh, and Connor?”

“What?”

“I’d also like that trade contract for the Incaenda. Future in-laws and all that.”

“That’s traditionally gone to Kamal.”

“Now, it goes to me.”

Rage tightens Connor’s features. “Don’t push me.”

“Connor,” says Aldred slyly. “What else is family for?”

There’s almost an audible snap as Connor’s resolve breaks apart. He starts to chortle in that fake carefree way that I used to find so irritating. “You’re a scoundrel, make no mistake, Aldred! But yes, you’re family. We’ll speak more of this later.”

“Yes,” says Aldred slowly. “We surely will.”

Connor and Aldred step away from the clearing, leaving Lincoln and I alone with our thoughts. Right now, mine are pretty fucked up.

“How did you enjoy the show?” asks the present-day Sakura.

Lincoln ignores the question. “I’m ready for your offer now. You seem to enjoy making bargains with my family.”

“Why, yes,” Sakura says sweetly. “Yes, I do.” She exhales a long breath, and a great mist leaves her lips. When the haze clears, the jungle is gone and the three of us are once again seated around the tea table in Sakura’s pagoda. “More tea?” she asks.

I pointedly slide my teacup away from me. “Keep the tea and make your offer.”

“Connor made a blood oath against your child. Shall I reverse his actions?”

“No,” I say quickly. “Don’t listen to her. This is one crazy bitch.”

“Let’s hear her out,” says Lincoln. “This is about Maxon, after all.”

Sakura runs her slender finger along the lip of her teacup. “I’d be willing to trade your father’s soul for your son’s. The magic is the same from my side. This is your test, King of the Thrax. Your personal hell. What do you say?”

Lincoln rubs his chin slowly. I know that face. He’s seriously considering this.

“Don’t listen to her.”

“I want Maxon back.”

“I do, too, Lincoln. But this isn’t the way.”

Lincoln rounds on me. “Turnabout is fair play. Our son is with Armageddon right now. Any second, the King of Hell could start torturing him. If this could work, we have to try.”

“It will work.” Sakura pulls a bloody blade from the folds of her kimono and offers it to Lincoln. “You will live and so will your son. I’ll only make Connor pay for his deeds. What do you say?”

I grab Lincoln’s arm. My voice turns pleading. “If you do this, you’re no better than Connor.”

“I am better. This is for my son.”

“That’s exactly what Connor thought, too.”

“I’m doing this, Myla.” Lincoln’s eyes turn wild. “Maxon could be suffering right now.”

“In my Hell, I was tested, too. What would any common criminal do in this situation? And eye for an eye, right? Connor created this situation, so Connor pays for it.” I set my hands into his. “Be a better person, Lincoln. A better father. A better king. Send this bitch packing.”

“Nice speech, Your Majesty.” Sakura tosses the dagger to Lincoln who catches it, setting the blade against his palm.

“No, Lincoln. Please. I don’t want to fight you on this, but I will.”

Lincoln pauses, the blade pressed against the flesh of his palm.

Sakura leans in closer, her voice bewitching in its sing-song quality. “At this very moment, Armageddon could be torturing your boy. You have the power to free him, and yet you hesitate. What kind of man are you?”

Lincoln’s arm tenses, pressing the blade harder against his skin. Still, he doesn’t shift the edge and draw blood.

That means I have a chance.

“We have to stick with our plan, Lincoln. Don’t make the same mistake your father did. You think this is what you want, but it isn’t, really. You both desired something so badly for your child and your people, and it isn’t wrong to want for those you love. But this choice? It’ll change everything, don’t you see? You’ll become the same stooge your father was to Acca. Only instead of Aldred, you’ll answer to
her
.”

Lincoln meets my gaze, his eyes steely with determination. “Assuming this is real, anyway. Everything we do here could be one big illusion.”

“Perception is reality, my love. This choice in this moment? It’s real. Believe me, there will be real consequences from it, I guarantee you.” I gently set my hands on his neck. “Please.”

Lincoln meets my eyes. “Tell me we can do this. Say we can rescue Maxon without her magic.”

I slowly move the blade away from his skin. “Together, we’re a match for anything.”

“That’s my Myla.” He tosses the dagger across the floor. “I refuse the bargain.”

Sakura purses her lips into a pout. “What a pity.” She touches the skin around her eyes. “See this ugly blue color in my flesh? It means that I’m not getting enough blood, and I haven’t ever since I was forced to hide out in Hell. Aldred used to being me fresh goodies to eat, but he’s been gone these past three years. I’d hoped you’d take his place.”

Lincoln slowly rises to his feet and pulls his baculum from his belt. “Sorry to have spoiled your plans.”

I rise to stand beside him, freeing my baculum rod from its holster. “So, what will you do now?”

“Now?” She raises her arms above her head. “The personal hell is over. Congratulations, King Lincoln, you have passed.”

I look around the room. “Where’s the Veil of Fire? Why aren’t we moving on?”

“Why, I’m using my magic to keep you here, of course.”

Lincoln’s voice lowers an octave. “And why would you do that?”

“Simple. I plan to drink you both dry.”

Fast as lightning, Sakura bursts forward, the long red nails on her right hand digging deep into my neck. With a gasp, I realize that her fingers run in a puncture line right along my jugular vein. Within an instant, my body turns blissfully immobile. There’s no fear at all as I realize what should be a disturbing truth: Sakura’s drawing out my life’s blood through her nails. It takes a concerted effort to swing my gaze over toward Lincoln. His eyes flutter, half-closed, and his features lie slack. Sakura’s nails dig into his neck, too.

“That’s right,” coos Sakura. “You both want me to consume your blood. You’ve always wanted this. Now, wait quietly. It will all be over soon.”

My head swims in a dream-like haze. It would be so easy to stand here, quiet and peaceful, while Sakura ends all my pain. I angle my head down, the better to give her access to my vein.

That’s when I see it.

My gaze runs across my wrist, and the image of a screaming Maxon fills the Looking Glass. His features are twisted with anguish as his tiny hands claw at the walls surrounding him. Shock and worry charge my body with alarm. A single thought overwhelms my mind.

This bitch is going down.

“Come here,” I whisper.

Sakura steps toward me. “You have something to say?”

My voice is barely audible. I take care to roll my eyes back into my skull. “Yes, come closer.”

Sakura moves within a few inches of me, a smug grin rounding her painted mouth. “What, oh
Great
Scala?” She puts extra sarcastic emphasis on the word ‘great.’

I curl forward, pounding my forehead into her skull. “That.”

Sakura tumbles backward, her fingernails falling away from both Lincoln and me. I hop to my feet and kick her once in the chest, hard. Sakura goes flying across the room, her back slamming into the far wall. On instinct, I press my hand to my neck. The puncture holes ooze a bit of blood, but it isn’t too terrible.

Beside me, Lincoln leaps to his feet and charges after Sakura, his baculum ignited as a short-sword. He slams his weapon down, but Sakura moves with preternatural speed, barely avoiding each of his strikes.

Sakura reaches forward, her nails dripping with blood. “Come to me, my sister!”

Across the floor, the teapot shakes, thin tendrils of smoke winding from its nozzle. The pause in movement allows Lincoln to land a serious strike on Sakura’s upper arm. She hisses with pain.

“Get rid of that damned thing, Myla!” cries Lincoln.

I race toward the teapot, grip it tightly and then toss it outside. The moment the object passes the opened doorway, the air rends with an ear-shattering boom.

Sakura races for the door. “Sister! My Sister!”

As the blood witch rushes past me, I knee her in the gut, making her crumple over onto the floor. My tail juts forward, wrapping her ankles tightly to prevent her escape. Sakura struggles, twisting from side to side, trying to free her legs. Her injured arm leaves a trail of blood across the wooden floor.

“Don’t waste your last moments trying to escape,” I warn her. “My tail’s held down much bigger demons than you.”

Lincoln steps to my side, his baculum still ignited as a short-sword. “Any last words?”

Sakura spits at him and misses her mark.

“I’ll take that as a no,” says Lincoln. He raises his weapon high above his head, swinging it down in a graceful arc. The angelfire blade is about to slice through Sakura’s chest when another explosion sounds, knocking us both off our feet. I lose my grip on Sakura.

One entire wall of the pagoda implodes. Shards of wood scatter everywhere. When the dust settles, a figure stands in the opened wall. It’s a woman made of red mist, her wrists and eyes bound with strips of silk. Along her neck are the same puncture wounds Lincoln and I now bear.

My heart sinks. I know what that is. A blood slave. Someone Sakura almost killed, but left alive just enough to serve her for all eternity. And this woman is her sister? That’s some cold shit, right there.

“Blood,” the slave rasps. Her body turns from mist to solid flesh. “I smell blood for my sister.” She disappears for a moment, only to reappear in front of Lincoln. Fast as a heartbeat, her body turns from mist to solid flesh. The sister slams her elbow into Lincoln’s neck, right where Sakura’s puncture wounds ooze blood. My guy collapses to the floor like a marionette who’s strings have been cut.

Twisting about, I point my baculum sword at Sakura’s throat. “What have you done to him?”

“A little sleeping spell from my sister,” she says with an evil smile. “It seems I was too aggressive, trying to drink both of you at once.”

“Release him. Now.”

“No, my sister wouldn’t like that.”

Ice-cold hands grab me from behind, pinning back my arms. It’s Sakura’s sister, holding me with another of their sleeping spells. I command my tail to skewer her now-solid body, but the order comes too late. Already, my mind wants nothing more than to sleep again. My head lolls to one side, and I can see Lincoln lying in a heap behind Sakura, his body unmoving.

Fuck, we’re in bad shape.

That thought doesn’t really bother me, however, and I know damned well that it should. I shift my shoulders, trying to break my hand free so I can get another glimpse of Maxon. Seeing him before gave me the will to break Sakura’s magical hold; maybe another glimpse will do it again.