Death's Mantle: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Revelations Book 1) (22 page)

That’s why she was walking to Ian’s house. She had a thousand things to say to him, a thousand and one things even. A part of her ached at the mere thought of speaking with him because while he hadn’t been in control, he
had
killed Jesse. Every time she thought about it, her heart ached so much she could barely breathe.

The sad thing was… part of her didn’t care. She knew it was wrong, but ever since they’d returned, she couldn’t ignore the connection she felt every single time she got next to him. But Ian was fire, and if she had learned anything, it was to stop playing with fire before it burned you. She smirked at the thought. Because she was fire, after all.

Time drifted by her, the leaden echoes of the clock tower’s bell dissolving into the air as she walked up to the large grey building housing Ian’s apartment. She pressed the buzzer and waited. After what seemed like hours, she heard Ian’s voice.

“What do you want?” Ian asked somewhat rudely through the intercom.

“After Caden and I left with Sabastin’s daughter, what happened? Where is Malcom’s body?” Amy clutched her hands together as the wind whipped by her, chilling her to her core.

The intercom died, pitching her into an endless silence. She sighed and rubbed her face with her hands. Just as she was about to leave, it squawked.

“You still there?” Ian asked, his voice shaken and muffled sounding.

“Ian, let me up, please.”

The door opened. Ian’s eyes were glassy and filled with sadness. He stepped outside and closed the door behind him. Without saying a word, he took a few steps before motioning for Amy to follow him. They walked for several minutes, the silence mounting between them and stretching off toward infinity.

“Are you okay?” Amy reached out to touch him, but he shied away from her.

“What do you expect me to tell you? That he just magically woke back up? That… that,” mumbled Ian, his voice had started in a yell but had fallen to a whisper. “We left him there, in the dark desolation of that place. How’s that for thanks. We… we just left him behind.”

“I… I… don’t know what I was expecting…” She sobbed, her face becoming pale and transparent. “I thought maybe Sabastin was doing something…”

“I felt him die, Amy. I know you did too, and Kim… well… No one wants to deal with his death less than her.” A sad smile crossed his lips as he turned to look at her. “He died for you, for everyone, but he shouldn’t have had to die. We’re not worth the sacrifice.”

“It’s not your fault, Ian.” Amy put her arms around him, and he shivered under her touch.

“I…it isn’t like, like he…” Ian tailed off as he stared out into the distance. “If I was only a little stronger…” He exhaled sharply. “I was so close to killing Jormungand…”

“It’s not your fault.” Amy sighed, shaking her head. “We were all there together, and we couldn’t stop Jormungand…”

“You shouldn’t forgive me. I’m unforgivable.” Ian shook his head. “I killed Jesse, Amy. And here you are forgiving me, telling me it’s not my fault. Well it is.”

Amy swallowed as his words hit her like a blow to the face. “I know you killed him,” she whispered. “And I know I should hate you for that, but I can’t. I just can’t! Every part of me is telling me to forgive you. Not because it was your fault or not, but because…” She looked down at her sandaled feet, unsure how to finish her sentence. How could she tell him it seemed like she had to forgive him because, crazy as it seemed, from the moment they met, she had been drawn to him…

“I’m bad for you, Amy. I know what you’re going to say, not just because it’s written across your face, but because I feel the same way too.” Ian pulled himself away from her and stared down at her. His face was haunted as he looked her up and down. Still, had he meant what he said? Was he drawn to her too?

“I’m a bad person, in general.” Ian shook his head and gritted his teeth as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’re not a bad person, Ian. I don’t know why you think that…” Amy replied, biting her lip. Why couldn’t he see himself through her eyes? She reached out toward him and just as her fingers touched his skin, he pulled back like her hand was a snake.

“I am. For instance, I only got drunk one time at a New Year’s Eve party. I don’t really remember it.” He looked up at her, his ice-blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. “And somehow I managed to betray two of my friends.”

“Um… okay.” She swallowed as she thought back, trying to remember if she’d ever seen Ian at a party. Then again, she’d never really been into that scene. “Do you need a drink or something?”

Ian shook his head. “No, that’s not what I’m trying to say. I don’t have a drinking problem or anything. I want to tell you about it though I don’t really know why.”

“Well, if it was just one time, how bad could it have been?” Amy pushed him a little, trying to lighten the mood. “You throw up in your car or something?”

“I woke up the next morning in a room I’d never seen before with a girl…” He took a deep breath. “I’d never been with anyone before that. I don’t even know what happened really.” Ian stared at his feet and trudged passed her.

Amy touched his arm and found his skin cool to the touch. “It’s okay…”

Ian turned, looking at her and shook his head. “Kim doesn’t think so.”

“Kim has a lot more problems than having spent one drunken night with you.” The words left Amy’s mouth before she could stop them. “I didn’t know it was you she pulled into that room, but what I do know is that everyone tried to stop her…” She swallowed. “You were a casualty, Ian. If it hadn’t been you…”

“It’d be someone else…” Ian bit his lip and shook his head. “That’s what Mal said too.” He looked up and stared at the sky. “Funny, eh?”

“How is it funny?” Amy asked, and Ian turned toward her. His sapphire eyes were so blue that, for a moment, she was worried she might drown in them.

“You’d think he’d have wanted to rip my head off… but he didn’t.” Ian shrugged. “And now I think to myself, maybe all that happened because of our mantles. Maybe we’re all broken and nothing we do is real. Not real in the reality sense, but real as in maybe we’re pawns of fate.”

“I don’t believe that’s true. You can blame what you want on the mantles, but deep down you’re still a person with choices.” She poked him in the chest with her finger. How dare he say all her feelings were worthless just because they were both horsemen? “Don’t ever forget you have a choice.”

“You know, for a long time I really hated you. Before I met you, I’d tried to convince myself I wasn’t lonely. But when I saw you with Jesse, it made me remember I really was lonely…”

“Are you lonely right now? With me?” Amy asked him, and she felt heat rising on her cheeks.

“I… I’m sorry…” He turned away, and she watched a shudder rush over him. The urge to comfort him was so strong, she almost couldn’t keep herself from wrapping her arms around him.

“You’re not bad. You need to forgive yourself for not being able to say you’re lonely.” She reached out, grabbing his hand and pulling him back around to face her. “Everything you blame yourself for isn’t your fault.”

“It’s not that. I…” he trailed off.

“You don’t have to try so hard anymore.” Amy smiled at him. “I’ll do whatever I can to help…”

“You’d do that for me? After I… after I killed Jesse?” The words had barely left Ian’s mouth when a gut-wrenching, baleful cry split the air behind them like a ripe melon.

They spun toward it as police cars came sliding to a halt in front of them. An officer leapt out of the closest vehicle, gun raised.

“Hands up!” the officer bellowed as others pointed their weapons at them. “Ma’am, please step away from the suspect. He is wanted for the terrorist attack downtown.”

 Thank you for reading 
Death's Mantle.
 If you wouldn't mind, please leave a review. As a special Bonus, I have included the first chapter of the  sequel, 
War and Famine
,
 on the next page.

If you are curious about Sabastin's daughter, you can find out about her in 
Hardboiled
. 

You may also want to check out my other series. The first book, 
May Contain Spies
, 
is currently 
free
 on Amazon. 

Want to know when my next book is available? Sign up for my new release e-mail list 
here
. If you do, I'll send you my short story, 
Alone in the Dark
, for 
free
.

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JACipriano.com
 for all the latest updates.

Kim 02:01

“You killed me, Kim,” Malcom bared his teeth, but since most of his lips had rotted away, she could see not only his teeth, but the yellowed bone of his face. “And then you left me to rot.”

Rivulets of decayed flesh clung to his skull as he hoisted himself to his feet and took a step toward her. Fragments of his broken bone poked through the bloody white t-shirt stuck to his chest, from where she’d caved in his ribcage with Mjolnir.

“You left me all alone in this wasteland.” He shook his head, his dark eyes full of betrayal. “And you said you loved me.” He snorted. “Was I a fool to believe you?”

He took another step toward her, and she tried to move, tried to make herself do anything other than stand there gaping at him like an idiot. Only she couldn’t get her legs to react as he shambled closer, one hand outstretched toward her. His dirty fingernails were blackened and split, making her think of a zombie forced to claw through its coffin lid.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice a mixture of guilt and fear. Guilt at not having been able to bring him back to her, despite all her efforts to do so welled up inside her, overriding the fear at what he might do to her because of it.

“Your apology means nothing to me, Kim.” Malcom sucked in a breath that whistled through his punctured lungs. “You need to come get me, Kim. You can’t leave me alone here. You can’t.” He was nearly upon her now. His hand caressed her cheek, leaving a trail of slime on her flesh. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me here all alone.”

Kim awoke with a start. Her blanket fell off her as she sat up, leaving her naked flesh exposed to the night air. Her heart hammered in her chest as she looked around the room wild eyed. She didn’t recognize it at all. Something shifted next to her in the bed, and she glanced toward it, adrenaline still surging through her veins. A dark haired boy lay asleep under the blankets, a small puddle of drool dripping from his lips. Unfortunately, he was as unfamiliar as the room she was in with its posters of aged rock bands and graffiti covered walls.

Another surge of fear rushed through her. She’d done it again. She tried to remember last night, tried to piece together how she’d ended up here, but just like every time before, her memory was a fuzzy blank. The first time it’d happened, she’d started screaming, waking up everyone in the frat house. The second time, she’d screamed again, but only loud enough to awaken the girl sleeping next to her.

Now, fifteen times later, she was used to it as much as she could be. If only she could figure out why she kept blanking out, kept losing entire portions of her life only to awaken in the bed of a stranger. She’d thought about asking for help, but if she was honest with herself, how would she go about it? It wasn’t like she was close enough to her friends to feel comfortable telling them she was waking up in the bed of strangers with no recollection of the events leading up to it.

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. There was no use worrying about it. Still, what troubled her was the dream. Malcom showing up was becoming more and more frequent. The desperation in his voice more urgent. The anger more real. If this kept up, she might just have to find Amy or Ian and ask for their help. Doing that would mean getting dragged back into the world of the horsemen, of accepting the call of her mantle to be near them. If she did that, she’d have to acknowledge the ache inside her, the loneliness filling every part of her being now that Malcom was gone, made worse by her absence from her friends.

“It’s just a dream,” she murmured to herself, trying to force truth into the words. “Just like the last one. Malcom is gone…” She had told herself that a lot over the last several weeks because if he wasn’t gone, if he was trapped in that otherworldly dimension by himself, it was her fault. If he was still there, she had to rescue him, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t strong enough for that. What could she say to him anyway? Sorry for leaving you alone in a demon world for weeks. Thought you were dead, my bad?

Kim climbed out of the foreign bed, careful not to awaken the other occupant. It would only lead to an awkward conversation she didn’t want to have anyway. She dressed quickly. One look through the closed blinds told her it was still dark outside. Good, she could avoid a walk of shame. That was the advantage with leaving before morning. There would be no forced conversations, no knowing smiles on friends’ faces.

Leaving was easier, especially when there was no one to stop you, and if there was one thing she’d gotten good at over the last couple weeks, it was leaving. Part of her felt bad for walking out on her parents, but as far as they knew, she’d just left for college early. They didn’t know what had happened to her, to Malcom, and if she had it her way, they wouldn’t ever know. No one would ever know. Hell, if there was a switch she could flip to drive the memory of it from her mind, she’d throw it in a heartbeat.

The door to the strange boy’s room closed behind her with a soft click, and as she made her way down the hallway of the grungy apartment building, she let a single tear slip from her eye. Nights like this made her remember what had happened. Much as she tried to drown it out, tried to ignore what had happened to her, it seemed like the memories of the fight with Jormungand were destined to haunt her. Forever.

It’d be easier if she had someone to talk to about it, but then again, maybe it wouldn’t be. She could have talked to Caden. He would have listened to her, but she hadn’t so much as tried. Hell, she hadn’t even thought about him at all. Her thoughts had centered on Malcom, and how she had left him behind even though he had saved them all. It didn’t seem fair, but it wasn’t like Ian or Amy had tried to bring him back either. Then again, neither of them had dated Malcom.