Bind the Soul (38 page)

Reapers closed in from everywhere. Ash backed up, pulling Piper with him. His sword had been lost somewhere in the fall. The horde of soldiers closed ranks around them in a bristling circle of weapons and magic. They were trapped.

Ash stopped, one arm still tight around her. In the sudden stillness, she could feel the heat coming off his skin; he had a fever. He wasn’t fully healed from the poison. His chest rose and fell with harsh, rapid breaths.

“Ash,” she whispered.

“Hey,” he said softly. His alien daemon voice slid down her spine.

“You’re alive,” she choked, fighting the tears trying to escape her control.

His arm tightened around her.

The surrounding wall of death parted. Samael stepped into the gap. Blood speckled the right side of his face but she couldn’t tell whether it was his. She pressed hard against Ash. They were going to die together. It was fitting. She’d promised herself back in the Underworld that she would either save him or die trying. He clearly felt the same way.

“Ashtaroth,” Samael intoned.

“Samael.”

Piper shuddered at the power and hatred layering that one word.

Samael felt it too. His upper lip curled. “I see you managed to survive . . . again. Surrender Piper and I will spare her.”

Piper gritted her teeth. She could try to use the Sahar again but she didn’t have enough skill. By the time she built up enough magic to make a difference, the soldiers would have killed them three times over. Not even Seiya’s spiraling blast had managed to kill Samael, though the Warlord probably had his much-depleted squad of bodyguards to thank for that.

When Ash didn’t answer, Samael’s gaze flashed to her. “Give me the Sahar and I will ensure Ash dies a swift death. Refuse and I will make his last months more agonizing than you can imagine, and every endless moment of his pain you will watch.”

Her stomach twisted. She pressed harder against Ash’s side. That couldn’t happen. She wouldn’t allow it. How could she make sure that Samael couldn’t capture them alive? If she tried to tap the Stone, a hundred soldiers would blast her to smithereens.

The Hades Warlord studied them for a few seconds longer, then nodded slowly. “I see you are both determined to be martyrs.”

The sea of soldiers pressed a little closer. Ash’s arm twitched with tension. He was still breathing hard; he didn’t have the strength for a final attack. Panic made her head spin.

Samael’s attention turned toward the reaper general standing beside him. His mouth opened.

“Wait!” Piper cried.

Red eyes snapped back to her. Ash stiffened.

“I—I—okay. I’ll give you the Sahar.”

She couldn’t let Ash be tortured. She couldn’t take that risk. She’d already seen it once and couldn’t endure it a second time.

Samael gestured for her to come to him. The soldiers shifted restlessly, disappointed that violence was no longer imminent. They wanted payback for the comrades Ash, his sister, and their dragons had killed. With shaky fingers, she dug into her armguard as she stepped out of Ash’s encircling arm. Her fingertips brushed the cool surface of the Stone. She pulled it out and closed her hand around it in a tight fist.

“Piper,” Ash whispered.

She turned to him. He met her eyes and whatever he was about to say died on his lips.

“Piper,” Samael warned from behind her.

She looked into Ash’s black daemon eyes. Terror crawled through her, trembling in her limbs. But not terror
of
him.
For
him. For her. For whatever would happen next. Barely able to breathe, she stepped up to him and laid her cheek against his chest in a final goodbye hug. His heart thumped loud and fast in her ear.

He closed his hand around hers where it rested against his chest. Their fingers entwined.

She lifted her face, met his eyes—and saw his soul beneath the black.

“Kill that bastard,” she whispered.

Ash’s hand tightened around hers, crushing the Sahar between their palms.

She let the Sahar’s hatred rush in.

Power leaped into her. Bloodlust and sick rage rammed into her mind without any gentle thoughts to shield her from them. The magic ripped through her veins like lightning—then it found Ash. The power raced out of her, making her gasp in the sudden cessation. The Sahar glowed so brightly it shone right through the back of her hand. Ash’s back arched, wings flaring as his head rocked back. Black swelled in his eyes, eclipsing the whites.

“Kill him!” Samael roared.

Red light erupted in the hands of dozens of soldiers.

Ash’s free hand rose in front of him. His head came down, gaze focusing. The reapers hurled their attacks and Ash made a small, almost lazy gesture. His shield snapped into existence around the two of them, so strong it distorted the air. The red blasts bounced harmlessly off it.

The Sahar burned her palm, hotter than she’d ever felt it. Ash’s wings slowly spread. The air sizzled, crackled. Sparks jumped all around him like tiny bolts of lightning. The atmosphere heated. Thickened. It was hard to breathe.

Ash’s outstretched hand clenched. Black flames engulfed it, then raced up his arm and coated his wings, dripping off them like burning oil. Piper backed away from him, unable to take more than a step while her hand was trapped in his. She panted, unable to breathe the air around him as it was so saturated with power—power that kept ratcheting higher and higher. She looked toward the enemy.

The reapers weren’t attacking anymore. They were slowly backing away. Samael kept his stare locked on Ash as he sidled backward.

Ash inhaled, held it for a second. Exhaled. His fist opened with a snap.

The world exploded.

Black power blasted outward, screaming toward the soldiers. The briefest flashes of black blinked out as the quickest reapers desperately tried to escape—and then the ebony fire engulfed the earth, blotting out the sky. Piper’s senses couldn’t absorb it, couldn’t grasp it. It was like standing at the center of a black hole as it swallowed a solar system. Nothing but incomprehensible destruction.

Then silence.

Sunlight slowly leaked through the hovering dust. She stared. The ground all around them had been leveled. The remains of the bridges were gone. The ramps, gone. All the piles of debris, gone. There was nothing but fist-sized chunks of rubble, burning bits of trees, and smears of blood for a hundred yards in every direction.

“Wow, Ash,” she whispered.

She’d never come close to achieving that degree of destruction. Nyrtaroth leveling an entire town no longer seemed like a stretch of the imagination.

Ash didn’t answer. The Sahar scorched her palm. She spun to face him.

He stood rigidly, wings quivering with the tension that gripped him. His head was thrown back, jaw clenched so tightly she could see the muscles flexing. He sucked in air like a drowning man. His eyes were squeezed shut.

“Ash,” she gasped. He was losing control. Still fighting the Sahar’s possession—but not for long. “Ash, let it go!”

She yanked on her hand but his grip was like a steel clamp. She grabbed his fingers and tried to pry them open. Ash’s hand clenched tighter. Agony speared her hand. She felt a bone snap.

“Ash,” she yelled. “Control it! Think about someone you love!”

He didn’t hear her. Wasn’t listening. His eyes opened and terror slammed through her, the Nightmare Effect kicking in with shocking strength. His eyes were empty pits of rage, solid black orbs, the whites gone. The Sahar was like a drop of fire in her hand, pumping power and hatred into Ash. She had to stop him before he went on a killing spree that wouldn’t end until he was dead. She couldn’t let that happen.

“Ash,” she tried again. “Ash,
please!
”

He didn’t hear her. Didn’t seem to see her. His lips peeled back, baring his pointed canines. He took a step forward, dragging her with him. She pointlessly dug in her heels. Stop him. How did she stop him?

She quit resisting and jumped forward, planting herself in front of him. He snarled, black eyes snapping toward her, empty except for loathing and lust for violence. She reached with her free hand to push him back.

His hand clamped around her wrist. His claws sank through her armguard and into flesh, biting deep. She choked back a scream. His grip tightened, threatening to snap her forearm. His eyes looked right through her, mindless, feral. His lips drew back, a growl rumbling from his throat. Lethal rage burned in his stare.

He was going to kill her.

A flash in her peripheral vision. Zwi, back in her dragonet form, dashed in at top speed. She sprang, grabbed onto Ash’s arm with her front claws, and sank her teeth into his hand. His hand spasmed—and his death grip on the Sahar loosened for the briefest moment.

Piper tore the Stone out of his hand and flung it away.

Ash’s whole body shuddered. He gasped. The black of his eyes shrunk and faded until wide, gray orbs stared at her. Zwi dropped to the ground, whining questioningly.

“Ash?” she whispered.

He released her wrist and closed both arms around her, crushing her against him. His mouth caught hers, wild and desperate. She grabbed his head, hooking her fingers over his horns, and ground her mouth against his, as equally out of control. Tears streaked her cheeks as she held him tighter. Kissed him harder. It wasn’t hard enough.

He pulled back, his stare sweeping her face as though to check she was unharmed, and then pressed his face against the side of her neck, arms wrapped around her so tightly she couldn’t breathe. She squeezed him until her arms ached, ignoring the pain of her injuries.

“I almost killed you,” he rasped. “I almost killed you.”

She fisted her good hand in his hair as she started to shake with the cessation of adrenaline.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s over.” Her gaze shifted toward the blood-smeared remains of the battlefield. “It’s finally over.”

CHAPTER 22

P
IPER
knew she should get up but she couldn’t find the strength.

Beside her, Ash leaned against a chunk of bridge, head tilted back, eyes closed. His face was white with exhaustion. She had his arm pulled in front of her so she could hug it against her chest. He didn’t seem to mind. His fingers were curled around her thigh above her knee, holding her leg against the side of his. Zwi was sprawled in his lap, crooning softly.

They’d been heading back across the battlefield to find Seiya and Lyre. Barely halfway there, they’d given up and sat in the first spot with a potential backrest. Neither of them could walk anymore. They needed a breather. Or better yet, a week’s sleep.

She rested her cheek against Ash’s shoulder. He was back in glamour so his shoulder was much comfier than the scale-armored version. Eyes closed, she drifted on waves of weariness. Seiya and Lyre would find them eventually. Her father would be looking for her too—and Miysis would come looking for the Sahar. She and Ash could just wait. They didn’t have to walk anywhere. The thought of standing made her shudder.

Exhaling a shaky breath, she tightened her fingers around Ash’s bicep. His skin was warm, no longer dangerously hot with fever. The antidote had worked, helped along by his natural resistance to poisons. Thank God she hadn’t killed him.

“I can’t believe you all came after me like that,” she said softly. “You could have all been killed.”

He huffed. “It wasn’t my idea.”

“What do you mean?”

He answered without opening his eyes. “I was only half conscious when Seiya and Lyre found me. They were supposed to wait for me to come back.” He shook his head. “They got me on Zwi and we went looking for you. When we found you with Samael, they slapped together a plan and ordered me to wait it out.”

“Which you didn’t.”

He cracked an eye open. “It worked out in the end. Things would have gone a little better if I’d been in better shape.”

She flinched.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry I—”

His hand tightened on her leg. “It wasn’t you, Piper. I know that. You saved my life—again.”

“You saved mine—again.” She smiled weakly. “And you stole the Sahar from Miysis! You’re the one who broke the spells on it, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I can’t believe I didn’t notice the tracking spell earlier—or that Miysis didn’t. Idiot. My original thought was to trade the Sahar for you if the first rescue didn’t work out. Glad I didn’t have to.”

“Be very glad, because Samael knows how to use it now.”

Ash’s eyes opened. She explained what Samael’s second spell had done and how he now knew everything they knew of the Sahar’s secrets.

When she finished, Ash sighed and let his head fall back again. “Devious bastard. I wish Seiya had managed to kill him.”

Piper sighed too. “I thought it looked like he’d teleported away in time. Damn it.”

Fear coiled in her belly. Samael was still alive and more dangerous than ever. She’d been happier hoping he was dead.

“He’ll be after the Sahar again in no time,” she said. “He doesn’t need me anymore; maybe he’ll leave me alone.”