Bind the Soul (12 page)

Piper swallowed hard. No wonder Ash had betrayed her to steal the Sahar.

“There you have it,” Micah finished flatly. “I found out by accident—overhead a conversation. If Samael finds out I know, he’ll kill me. Would that make you happy?”

She sneered and stepped back. She didn’t lower the gun. “I can’t say I would cry if he did,” she mocked. “Now get out of my sight before I decide I want to do the deed myself.”

He made a disgusted sound and dropped his hands from his chest. With one last leer, he turned to leave—

He whipped back so suddenly she could only flinch. His hand closed around her arm, fingers digging in. He jerked her hand up and mockingly kissed the back of it like a lord greeting a lady.

“As classy as ever, Piper.”

His grip was painfully tight. She belatedly brought up the gun but he let go before she could do anything more. Smiling his cold, cruel cat smile, he straightened his jacket and raised one eyebrow.

“One last thing, Piper,” he said conversationally. “You should look up ‘Blood Kiss.’ You’ll want to know what it is before you go chasing after Ash.”

“What are you talking about?” she snapped.

“Ta-ta,” he mocked. With a flippant wave of his hand, he strode deeper into the dark hall. She watched him go, her heart pounding. He vanished into the darkness. Gone. Thank God.

Shaking, she sank down to sit in a pool of white silk. Just to make sure she didn’t walk away feeling victorious, he’d given one last show of superior daemon strength and speed. She turned her arm over and saw a spot of blood on the inside of her wrist where the ring on his index finger had jabbed her. She would have a bruise in the shape of his hand by morning. Her gaze lifted to the gun and she almost cried with relief that she’d brought it. She was such a fool. Cornering an incubus in a deserted hallway? She was lucky nothing worse had happened.

Breathing deeply, she pressed a hand against her chest. Her body ached. So did her heart.

Looking back, she realized neither Vejovis nor Ash had said his sister was dead; Piper had assumed from the context. So much of what Vejovis had said made sense now. When Ash had tried to escape with his sister, he’d been injured too badly to go on. Vejovis had had two options: save Ash’s sister by taking her to safety, or heal Ash, thereby condemning him and his sister back to the very hell Ash had risked everything to escape. No wonder Ash hated Vejovis for his choice.

She now knew what it would take to set Ash free: saving his sister. But how? She couldn’t count on Ash to help. He might even work against them. He had to obey Samael. He couldn’t fight back, or his sister would pay.

Pulling herself together, she holstered her gun and pushed herself to her feet. She straightened her dress and wiped her fingers across her damp cheeks. They came away black. Her makeup was no doubt smeared all over her face. She scrubbed at her cheeks, knowing it was pointless. She’d have to go back out there eventually. Everyone would see her ruined makeup and imagine all sorts of stories as to what had happened.

Another tear trickled down. She was so stupid. Why hadn’t she brought Miysis with her to confront Micah? Why had she thought she could do it on her own? She didn’t have magic. She couldn’t compete with daemons. Wrapping her arms around herself, she swallowed back the tears. She felt dirty, pathetic and weak. Useless.

A shoe scuffed the floor somewhere behind her. She spun around.

Quinn stood ten steps away, watching her. She stared at her father, eyes wide. She couldn’t make out his expression in the dim light but she could imagine it. Humiliation smothered her. She spun back around and covered her face with her hands. Shoulders hunched, she silently sniffed back tears. Why? Why had he found her now?

“Piperel.”

“Go away,” she choked.

A moment of silence before he moved. His footsteps approached and stopped beside her. She tensed, expecting the explosion to happen at any second. Instead, his voice was quiet and neutral when he spoke. Maybe even slightly kind.

“Come on, Piperel. Let’s go home.”

She looked up, brow wrinkled. He lightly touched her elbow, guiding her into motion in the same direction Micah had gone.

“But—”

“We won’t talk about anything tonight,” he interrupted. She struggled to read his tone. “We can discuss what happened in the morning.”

She sniffled. “Father, I—”

“I know, Piperel. I know what Miysis is. Why do you think I’ve been warning you for years about daemons?”

She wiped away a stray tear, still unsure if she was picking up on sympathy or disapproval from him. Maybe a bit of both. She opened her mouth to ask him how he’d found her—

Screams erupted from the ballroom.

Piper and Quinn spun to face the light at the end of the hall. Somewhere beyond, a man shouted angrily and a woman wailed.

“What’s going on?”

Quinn’s face was grim. “Four people have collapsed in the last twenty minutes. They suspect an assassin.”

“An assassin
here
?”

“Yes. We need to go.”

“Okay,” she whispered, eyes wide.

No wonder he’d come to find her. Wasn’t security supposed to be too good for anything like that to happen? The screams suggested at least one more guest had collapsed—or worse. She hurried her steps. At the end of the hall, an emergency exit led to a barren, industrial stairway that opened straight outside. As they stepped into the fresh night air, surprising four security guards, she could only feel relieved to be free. All things considered, she wouldn’t be asking to attend the Amity Gala next year.

. . .

The car ride was silent. She stared out the window. She probably should have been worrying about assassins running unchecked around the gala, but all she could think about was Ash. She’d always scoffed at his gloomy manner, believing it to be some sort of affectation. Now it made a lot more sense why she’d never seen him laugh. Urgency pounded in the back of her head but there was nothing she could do right that minute. She needed to rally all the support she could get. Saving Ash—and his sister—would take some serious planning. Lyre might have a better idea where to start.

She found some tissue paper and a bottle of water to scrub the mascara off her cheeks while the car rumbled through the dark city. Quinn stared straight ahead, his jaw tight.

Piper hesitated before breaking the silence. “Do you know who collapsed?”

He glanced over. “Three Overworld daemons and a politician with Overworld sympathies.” A pause. “One of the daemons was Miysis’s cousin.”

Her eyes widened. “Poisoned?”

“Most likely.”

She swallowed. “Who could have done it?”

She rubbed her bruised wrist. If slime like Micah could get in, she supposed an assassin could too.

“Without proof, it will be anyone’s guess.”

“It was probably Samael,” she said darkly.

Quinn gave her a sideways look. “Why?”

“Because he hates Overworld daemons, doesn’t he? Especially the Ra family. They forced him to give up the Sahar.”

Before the attack on the Consulate five weeks ago, the Hades and Ra families had agreed to seal the Sahar away where no one could have it. So much for that plan.

“A man like Samael isn’t going to send out assassins in petty revenge,” Quinn said. “One should always be cautious when it comes to ruling families, but there’s no reason to throw accusations around. Samael participated in the negotiations over the Stone as equally as the Ra family did.”

“You met him?”

“No. He sent representatives.”

“Well, he also arranged to steal the Sahar before it could be locked away, so he wasn’t negotiating in good faith.”

“I have every reason to believe the Ras made similar arrangements. Samael merely acted first. Neither of them wanted to give up the Sahar.”

“But—”

“That is why I had several fake Sahars created well in advance. If my plans hadn’t been disrupted by the Gaians’ attack, I’m certain I would have succeeded in sealing the Stone—much to the Hades’ and Ra’s dismay.” He sighed rather wistfully.

“You don’t think Samael is evil?” she asked slowly.

“No more than any other daemon ruler. They are all ambitious, greedy, and power-hungry. But I could say the same about the humans in power here.”

Piper clenched her hands. “Samael
is
evil. Don’t you know what he does to the draconians? He keeps them as slaves.”

“That’s a rumor.”

“It’s true! He keeps Ash’s sister prisoner to force him to—”

Quinn turned in his seat to face her, ignoring the bumpy ride as the driver turned onto the long gravel drive leading up to the Consulate.

“Ash is a hired killer.” His expression was severe. “He may have helped you, but he’s a known murderer.”

“But Samael—”

“Pays him very well, I am sure.”

She clamped her mouth shut, fuming.

“You still see daemons as black and white,” he said. “Samael isn’t evil. Ash isn’t innocent. Neither is good nor moral.”

“Ash saved my life,” she said stubbornly.

“He did. Does that undo the lives he took before he saved yours?”

Her stomach twisted. “He had no choice. Samael made him.”

Quinn sighed as the car rolled to a stop. “We can discuss this later.”

She folded her arms, scowling as he got out of the car. She slid out as well and straightened her dress as the cool night breeze swept over her. It was nearly eleven at night. She decided she would phone Lyre as soon as she got inside, and then she would sleep. She followed Quinn up the walkway. As they reached the door, a distant trill caught her attention. She looked around. Standing at the corner of the house was a dragonet-shaped shadow. Zwi trilled again, the sound demanding and urgent.

“One sec,” she said to her father. “Zwi is calling me.”

“Why?” he asked, frowning in the dragonet’s direction.

“Who knows? Maybe Uncle Calder shut my window or something. I’ll go see.”

“Hurry.”

She nodded and trotted awkwardly in her high heels while Quinn waited on the front stoop. Zwi watched her for a second then darted around the corner and out of sight, trilling again.

“Zwi,” she called. “Wait up.”

She jogged around the corner. Zwi bounded ahead of her, stopping every twenty yards to check whether Piper was following. She called again, her golden eyes bright.

“What is it?” Piper huffed.

Zwi ran forward again, heading for the tree line that marked the edge of the Consulate’s property. The dragonet stopped right at the edge of the woods, chittering. Piper slowed as she approached. Her skin prickled.

There was a shadow amidst the trees. She stopped three paces from the nearest trunk.

The shadow shifted, revealing the shape of a person. A beam of moonlight fell across the side of a face.

Piper’s heart stuttered. Her breath caught. “Ash?” she whispered.

He gave a short nod, dark hair falling across his eyes. His gaze flicked past her as her father called to her to hurry. Elation ballooned in her chest until she could barely breathe.

“Ash!” she gasped. “I thought—how did you get away? I—”

His gray eyes came back to her and his lips curved in a faint smile. He looked haunted, pale, almost disturbed. What had Samael done to him? She reached for him, wanting to touch him, to make sure he was real, there, safe—finally safe. He lifted his hand to meet hers, his stare never leaving her face.

Just before their fingers touched, her heel sank into the soft ground. She stumbled, her gaze jerking from his face to the ground as she caught herself. Her attention landed on Zwi, standing beside Ash and watching her with equal intensity. Her gut tightened.

That dragonet was too big to be Zwi.

She jerked back as Ash snatched for her hand. Arms windmilling, she staggered backward, out of reach. He didn’t follow, didn’t step over the invisible property line. Just watched her. Jaw clenched, she searched for a hint, a sign. His expression didn’t change, patiently waiting. She glanced again at the dragonet.

“Nice try, Raum,” she snarled.

His head tilted to one side. He didn’t drop the illusion, didn’t acknowledge the truth. Doubt flickered inside her. Could this be Ash? No, the dragonet definitely wasn’t Zwi.

“Where is Zwi?” she demanded.

“Piperel?”

She shot a panicked glance over her shoulder as Quinn came around the corner of the house. He spotted her—and the shadowy figure standing a few feet away. He broke into a run. In a blur of motion at her feet, the dragonet darted past her. A sudden burst of black light surrounded it.

A full-size dragon materialized out of the dark, magical flames. The transformed dragonet flared its massive wings and roared. Quinn skidded to stop, frantically backpedalling as the dragon stalked toward him.

“Piperel!” he yelled. “Get inside!”

“Father!” she screamed.

The dragon leaped for him. Quinn dove out of the way, rolled to his feet, and threw a ball of blue fire into the dragon’s face. It sloughed off the dragon’s scales without even slowing it.