Bind the Soul (13 page)

“Piper.”

She turned back to the Ash illusion, baring her teeth. “Your voice is a dead giveaway, Raum. You’ve blown it. Call off your dragonet!”

He watched her with Ash’s eyes. “No.”

“You—”

He extended a hand toward her. “Come with me, Piper. If you refuse, Nili will kill your father.”

“You wouldn’t kill the Head Consul.” She tried to hide her panic. Behind her, the dragon roared.

“
I
wouldn’t. But Ash’s maddened dragonet could. She has no master and all draconians know that a dragonet separated too long from her bonded becomes unstable.”

“That’s not Zwi. That’s
your
dragonet.”

“Who could tell? Even then, well”—he gestured at his illusion-cloaked face—“Ash was last seen at the scene of a brutal murder. Everyone knows he’s a killer and now he’s gone entirely mad.”

“But if Ash killed the Head Consul, it would look like Samael ordered it,” she countered fiercely.

“No. Samael will prove he gave no such orders by personally executing the murderer. A neat solution to many problems.”

Panic squeezed her lungs. “You bastard,” she hissed.

“Time is up.” He twitched his fingers, beckoning her. “You have to the count of three.”

“Piperel,” Quinn shouted. “Piper, get away!”

“One,” Raum intoned.

The dragon snarled. The air boomed as Quinn cast an attack.

“Two.”

“You could just grab me,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m standing right here. If you cared about the sanctity of the Consulate grounds, you wouldn’t be trying to kill my father on them.”

“I could,” he agreed softly, “but Samael prefers that you willingly surrender.”

“What?
Why?
”

A shadow crossed his eyes. “Samael is a master of breaking spirits.”

She clenched her jaw, hate pounding through her, competing with the terror she could barely control.

Raum’s stare moved from her to the desperate fight behind her. “Three,” he said.

Quinn bellowed in pain. Piper whirled around as the dragon drove her father into the ground. Its head reared back, jaws gaping as it took aim for his head.

“No!” she screamed. She turned and threw herself at Raum.

His arms locked around her. He barked a command to his dragonet. The dragon backed off her father and leaped skyward, wings beating the air with a sound like thunder. Quinn’s panicked eyes met Piper’s for an instant while Raum held her. His gaze jerked to the draconian and widened.

“
Ashtaroth
,” he roared.

“No,” Piper yelled desperately. “It’s not—”

Raum jerked her back into the trees. Then he threw her over his shoulder and launched into a full-out sprint. She flailed furiously but his iron strength pinned her arms to her sides, holding her tightly against his shoulder. Dark trees whipped by. She screamed pointlessly, terrified and enraged.

Others appeared, running alongside them. Raum’s four soldiers flanked them, weapons drawn and gazes scouring the shadows. One of them was the woman Piper had stabbed, healed and healthy. Raum didn’t slow, barely breaking stride to leap over obstacles. His pace didn’t change until they burst into a clearing. Raum slowed fast, skidding over the slippery grass. He flipped Piper off his shoulder and dumped her on the ground.

She landed hard on her back, gasping. The illusion of Ash’s face shimmered and vanished. Raum’s pale blue eyes seared her, the long scar that ran from his temple to his jaw marring his cold, handsome face. He pulled up the black wrap around his neck to cover the lower half of his face. His downsized dragonet soared out of the darkness and landed on his shoulder.

She sat up and grabbed the hem of her dress. Yanking it up, she jerked the gun from its holster and whipped it toward Raum. She pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot exploded through the silent night.

In the same instant, the air sizzled with magic. The bullet hit the shield Raum cast between them. The force knocked him back a step as the bullet ricocheted into the darkness.

Hands grabbed her arm, forcing it up before she could fire another shot. She screamed furiously as two daemon soldiers wrestled the gun from her. Another grabbed her arms and forced them behind her back. She tried to jerk free but they were too damn strong.

Raum stepped closer and crouched to her level. Expressionless, he reached out and gripped her jaw.

“Too late to fight,” he murmured. “You belong to Samael now.”

“Like you?” she spat.

The shadow crawled behind his gaze again. “Yes,” he agreed.

His eyes darkened as tingles erupted where his hand touched her. She felt the spell seeping into her brain on a wave of drowsiness.

“Since he is not here,” Raum murmured softly while she fought the haze creeping through her mind, “I will offer you advice on Ash’s behalf.”

She slumped forward, her muscles going limp. Her head fell against his shoulder. He held her jaw, weaving the spell through her.

“You cannot fight Samael with force,” he whispered. “Subtlety is your only weapon. Remember that, and you may survive.”

Darkness crept through her vision. The world spun around her.

“But I doubt it,” he added quietly.

Everything went black.

CHAPTER 8

P
IPER
came awake all at once.

She sat bolt upright before her eyes were all the way open. A room came into focus. She was sitting on a narrow bed with unbleached cotton sheets and blankets beneath her—a sharp contrast to the white silk of her gown. The walls were rustic stone. The ceiling was covered in wood paneling. There were no decorations.

She turned.

Raum sat in a simple chair in front of the only door, watching her. She stared at him. His wavy, iridescent red hair was windswept. Dirt smudged one cheek. He’d pulled down the wrap that normally covered the lower half of his face but he was still dressed in his black fatigues with enough weapons strapped to him to outfit a small army. He had three parallel scars across the cheek opposite the one with the long, vertical scar. He studied her in silence.

She sucked in a panicked breath. He’d kidnapped her. She’d been kidnapped. She inhaled rapidly, trying to stay calm. Her brow wrinkled. She breathed in again, carefully this time. The air tasted strange. Was she underground or something?

“Where am I?” she demanded. The loudness of her voice made her flinch.

“Does it matter?”

Probably not. “It does to me.”

“You are in Asphodel.”

“The Hades estate?” She snorted. “Where am I really?”

His mouth thinned. “I already told you.”

“I’m not an idiot, Raum,” she snapped. “Tell me where I am.”

He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“If you’re going to lie,” she complained, “you could at least make up something plausible.”

She glared and crossed her arms too, grateful for something to focus on besides the terror boiling in her stomach. Asphodel. Ridiculous. The Hades estate was in the Underworld, and the pathway from Earth to the Underworld was a daemon-only dimensional doorway.

“Samael is waiting,” Raum said tonelessly. “Are you ready?”

“No.” She swallowed against her rising panic, ire forgotten at the mention of Samael’s name. Fear gripped her like a cold, iron claw. “He’ll kill me,” she whispered.

“Not today,” he replied.

She stared at him. “Are you sure?”

“He wants something from you. Until he gets it, you live.”

“I can’t give it to him.” Even if she knew how she’d used the Sahar, she couldn’t reveal it to Samael. She couldn’t hand over that much power to the evil bastard.

“You should,” he said.

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, trembling. She’d never felt so alone.

“Look at me.”

Her gaze rose to meet his icy stare.

“Do you think you’re stronger than me?” he asked softly.

Her brow furrowed. “Obviously not.”

“I cannot keep a secret from Samael. Neither can you. You are not strong enough to survive this world. What Samael does to daemons to make them obedient would kill you.”

She balled her hands into fists. It didn’t stop them from shaking.

“Whatever he wants to know, he will learn,” Raum said passionlessly. “That is the reality. There will be no rescue. There is no escape. You belong to Samael now.”

She swallowed, her mouth dry as dust. “I don’t want to die.”

His expression didn’t soften. “Death is easy. Living is difficult.” He rose to his feet. “Come.”

“I—I’m not ready.”

“Now.”

She stood on trembling legs. He pushed his chair aside and opened the door. She straightened her dress and followed him out. The hall was as barren as the room: plain stone interrupted by heavy wooden doors. Raum strode away, not bothering to check whether she followed. She glanced over her shoulder in the opposite direction, wondering if she dared run for it. Not in high heels. Why couldn’t he have kidnapped her after she’d changed clothes?

At the end of the hallway was a heavy metal door. On either side stood a guard dressed entirely in black—similar to Raum’s soldiers. Both daemons. They didn’t react in any way as Raum opened the door and let Piper walk ahead of him. She ducked between the guards, half expecting them to lunge for her. A stone stairway spiraled tightly upward. Another metal door. Two more guards. On the other side of the door was a small, empty antechamber. Raum pushed open the last door—polished, carved oak—and walked out.

Piper stepped from rustic barrenness into understated opulence.

A dark brown carpet ran down the center of the wide hall. Massive oil paintings hung on the smooth stone walls, interspersed with heavy tapestries embroidered with elaborate scenes. Small tables held jeweled silver ornaments and marble figurines. Samael had apparently spared no expense.

She looked around and saw Raum was ten steps away. Again, she considered bolting. But the draconian was hardly a fool. He wouldn’t have allowed her the option of running if there were anywhere to run to. Gritting her teeth, she trotted awkwardly to catch up.

He stopped and faced a small alcove. Folding his arms, he nodded toward it. She turned to look. It was a wide bow window framed by heavy curtains. A low bench followed the curve of the window. The crystalline glass was almost invisible, offering an unbroken view of the countryside.

Dizziness swept over her as she stared out the window. A harsh buzzing filled her ears. The floor disappeared from beneath her feet.

Raum’s hand connected hard with the back of her head. She yelped, twisting away from the blow.

“What the hell?” She pressed one hand to the throbbing spot on her skull.

“Don’t faint,” he told her, crossing his arms again.

Keeping a tight mental hold on herself, she turned back to the window.

Beyond the glass, a narrow valley stretched. Black mountains rose on either side, massive and jagged, tipped with snow. Trees with twisting, ropey trunks reared dozens of yards into the air before sprouting hundreds of spindly branches with dark, spiky leaves. Instead of grass, a mossy carpet was dotted with tiny red spots—flowers or berries. She recognized nothing, but that wasn’t why she’d almost fainted.

Rising above the mountains, filling a third of the sky, was a planet.

It shimmered in the deep blue sky, vanishing behind the pale violet mist that clung to the peaks of the mountains. Swirls of white and gold clouds whisked its distant atmosphere. The brilliant glare of the low sun lit a glowing halo around the planet’s circumference.

She realized she was edging toward hyperventilation and pulled in a desperate breath.

Unable to look at the planet, she peered in the opposite direction. The sun hung between two regal mountains, casting long shadows through the valley. She squinted and felt the floor drop out again.

“Two suns?” she whispered. One hovered above and to the left of the other.

“I wasn’t lying,” Raum murmured.

She turned stiffly away from the window and its terrifying sights.

“This is Asphodel. In the Underworld.”

She swallowed the “impossible” she desperately wanted to utter. The view out that window was no illusion. There was a freaking planet blotting out half the damn sky.

“How am I here?” she asked instead, voice rasping in her dry throat. “Only daemons can come and go from the Underworld and Overworld.”

He twitched one shoulder in a disinterested shrug. “A common misconception. Humans and haemons can’t pass the Void to reach our world.”

“The what?”

“The emptiness between worlds.”

“So how did I?”