(Skeleton Key) Princess of the Damned (12 page)

She sobbed, wishing she could hold him tighter, wishing so much that she could feel his heartbeat or hear his voice one last time.

But it wasn't to be.

His soul didn't suck away her life force, as the others would have. He just…left her. He was there, and then he wasn't, and some unseen force was dragging her back, back toward the gates.

She'd damned herself to hell.

And she didn't care.

Tears soaked her cheeks as she craned her neck, trying to get one last glimpse of Landon, but he was gone, safely away from the Isle and back to the other side of the mirror.

She had one last chance to finish the job she'd been sent here to do. As the gates swung open at her touch, she dug deep, deep down, where fury and desperation still lived, and she pulled on her strength like a gown. Throwing her hands up, she exploded the gates. The impact threw her backward. The souls around her screamed as they lit on fire, burning and burning and never stopping. Eiress tumbled to the floor of the ballroom as pieces of the gate fell like rain around them, igniting everything they touched. Elizabeth cowered behind her throne. Vlad was fighting to flee the room, and failing. The souls, all of the souls, had turned into one eternal bonfire being pulled through the gaping hole where the gates had once stood.

The noise nearly deafened her. So much screaming and wailing and gnashing of teeth. She buried her head in her hands, her entire body trembling.

The room was nearly silent by the time Eiress realized that she
wasn't
being pulled to hell. Somehow, she'd been freed from the bonds. Struggling to her feet, she looked around her. Elizabeth was gone. Vlad was gone. She stood alone in the ballroom.

L
ANDON HAD NEVER HURT SO BADLY
in his life. He was vaguely aware of cool air across his face that burned so much he wanted to move, but he couldn't. Too. Much. Pain. Nothing was responding the way he was telling it to.

He'd left her. Eiress had given up everything for him, and he'd left her there.
I'll come back, Eiress. Even if I have to fight all the way the hell to save you, I'll come back.
He was about to lapse back into oblivion, the pain too overwhelming, and he would have gone willingly.

Until he heard the whimper.

It wasn't Eiress. But it was familiar. He just…he couldn't place it. Someone he loved…

"Landon, your mother needs you. Get up."
That voice. He knew it, too, but it just kind of floated around his head, and he couldn't place it, either. Somehow, though, he managed to roll over and push himself onto his hands and knees. His eyes opened last, and it took several long seconds before his vision cleared.

His mother lay in a pool of blood just through his bedroom doorway. It looked like she'd been attacked trying to make it inside.

To warn him.

She'd been trying to save him.

And then he remembered. His broken hand, the trip through the mirror.

Eiress.

The attack.

He crawled across the floor, sometimes dragging himself by his arms and the strength of his will, because nothing in his body wanted to move at all. His mom's phone was lying on the floor nearby; no doubt she'd had it in her hand when she'd fallen. He reached for it, praying hard that it wasn't dead because he didn't have the strength to get up and search for his own phone.

Two percent battery remaining. Landon's hands shook so badly he could barely swipe his finger across the phone's face to unlock it—there to greet him was a picture of the three of them at Glacier National Park last year.

He sobbed as he dialed 911.

"Help. Please help." His voice was barely a rasp, and he dropped the phone and collapsed next to his mother.

Please be alive.

He fought to stay awake, to keep the black splotches at the edge of his vision from taking over completely. He opened his eyes wide and blinked several times, finally focusing on the mirror just out of reach. He couldn't see himself, but he could see Eiress. She stood alone in the ballroom, turning slowly in a circle.

Please be okay.

H
E AWOKE AGAIN IN
the hospital. The steady blip of the heart monitor told him that he was, in fact, alive, despite all the pain. He forced his eyes open, searched desperately for his mother, and found his father, instead, staring down at him with worried eyes. "Mom?" Landon asked, afraid of the answer.

"She's recovering. If you hadn't come home when you had—"

"Come home?"

"I was out looking for you. Cassie said you snuck out in the middle of the night. Why would you do that, Landon?"

"She's recovering? What does that mean? Is she awake? Can I talk to her? Can I see her?"

"She's stable but not awake yet. They're keeping her in a medically induced coma for the time being."

"What happened? Who did this to her?"

His dad rubbed a hand over his face, scrubbing at several days' growth. "I was out looking for you. Cassie said you were going somewhere far away, so I went to the cabin to see if you were there. Your mother—She stayed home. Someone attacked her. She hasn't been able to tell us what—er—who, yet. Where were you, Landon? What's going on?"

"Didn't you get my note?" Landon asked. He wasn't sure if it was horror at what he'd put his parents through or pain that tried to choke him when he spoke.

"What note? There was no note. Cassie was in our kitchen when I got up for work. That was all. No note, Landon. What were you thinking? Do you know how scared we were?"

"I'm—I'm so sorry. I left a note. I—a friend—a good friend—" his heart nearly seized in his chest. He had died. He'd been killed in the Isle, and Eiress had saved him. She'd given up her soul to save him.

But then…

She'd been standing in the ballroom. She'd been alive. In the Isle. What had happened? He was torn between the need to see his mother and the need to find a mirror. Neither of which could be accomplished being stuck in this bed.

"Landon?" His dad was quickly losing patience.

He cleared his throat, trying to put his thoughts in order. "A good friend was in trouble. You—you always taught me to be a helper, to look for ways to help people. She—she needed me. But I left a note, Dad. I swear I did."

"What friend? Cassie had no idea where you'd gone."

"Cassie doesn't know her. No one does." Landon let his head fall back against the pillows. "But I left a note, Dad."

His dad ran a hand through his thinning hair. "You were unconscious when the paramedics arrived. But your toxicology screen was clean. No drugs, no alcohol. No injuries except your broken hand."

"What? No injuries? I was mauled by—" Landon lifted weak fingers to his throat, to the tears there, but the wounds were gone. He patted his chest, felt his face. Everything hurt like the tears and claw marks were still there, but the actual marks were gone. Landon stared at his broken body in confusion. Except it wasn't broken.

His dad was still talking. "You snuck out the other night, too, and busted your hand. Then you come home and your mother's been attacked? What's going on, Landon? What are you into?"

Landon had never had a reason to lie to his parents. He hid Eiress's existence, yes, because they'd been convinced she was an imaginary friend. But he could count the times he had outright lied on one hand.

He was a bad liar.

And he desperately needed to see a mirror. Eiress would feel him there. She would tell him what was going on. She would tell him what had happened. He had to stop her, because he knew her plan. She was going to blow Mary's Isle to pieces and end Mary's reign.

And die doing it.

Landon dropped his head. "I'm not into anything. I don't know who attacked Mom. I don't even know how I got home. All I can tell you is a very good friend needed my help, so I tried to save her. I failed. Big time. She ended up saving me instead and screwed herself over doing it."

His dad sighed. One of those huge I-don't-know-what-to-do-with-you sighs that all parents give right before they either get really angry or that sort of resigned chagrin thing. "Landon…"

"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm not sorry I went. If I could do it again, I would. But I am sorry I worried you. I'm sorry I wasn't there when Mom needed me. I'm sorry I made you go all the way to the cabin." He shrugged helplessly, not sure what else to say, and dangerously close to tears.

He'd lost Eiress. He'd put his parents through hell. Someone had attacked his mother while he was off, failing at being a hero.

He'd screwed up everything.

"Excuse me, Mr. Heritage? Can we speak to you and your son, please?"

Landon and his dad turned simultaneously toward the door, where two uniformed policemen waited. "What is this about?" his dad asked.

Landon half-watched the cops talk to his dad while he scanned the room for a mirror. There was probably one in the bathroom, and he was just starting to get out of bed when the cops left his dad and came to him. "We just have a few questions."

Landon sank back against the bed and nodded. One man was tall and blond. The other had darker hair and a goatee. Neither told Landon their names.

"Can you tell us what happened when you came home last night? What time was it? Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?"

Landon closed his eyes, trying to picture it again, but all he could see was his mother, lying silent, her blood soaking the carpet. "I don't remember coming home. I just—I just woke up, and I was lying on the bathroom floor, and I hurt like—like I'd been attacked by a bear. I opened my eyes and my mom…my mom…" He couldn't say the words. Tears threatened and he brushed them away, ashamed, with a shaking hand. "My mom was lying on the floor by the doorway of my bedroom. Like she'd gone in there to—to protect me or—or to warn me." And he started to sob. "And I wasn't there."

He'd failed. He'd failed at everything.

The cops backed off while his dad came, slid an arm around Landon's shoulders, and pulled him close. Landon sobbed against his chest like a little boy for several long, long minutes. "Can I see her? Please?" he asked, his voice cracking.

His dad had been crying, too, and he nodded. "We'll work something out. I'll talk to the nurse."

Both of them had forgotten about the police officers who still stood at the end of the bed, waiting. "We need to know what you saw, Landon. It's very important. Think back, any little detail, anything out of place…?"

Landon tried. He tried to remember, but he couldn't. All he could see was his mother's body and blood. So much blood. He shook his head.

"Are you sure, Landon? Can you try harder?"

His dad interrupted. "He's been through hell, and he doesn't even remember what happened to him, let alone whether there was anything that could have pointed to an attacker. When my wife wakes up—"

"We don't have time to wait for your wife to wake up, Mr. Heritage. There have been fifteen attacks since your wife was brought in, and five that happened before. Bodies are piling up in the morgue, and we need to know what your son saw. Right now."

Landon could only stare at them in horror.

His dad had a similar reaction. "This—what?"

"You understand, then, why it is so important that you tell us anything you know, Landon. Even if it seems inconsequential."

"How…?" he asked. His voice sounded like rocks tumbling all over each other. "How was my mom attacked?"

"We don't have a weapon yet."

Landon closed his eyes, trying to remember. But there was nothing. He'd seen nothing out of the ordinary. Again, he shook his head.

Giving up, they gave his dad their cards and asked if he would call should he remember anything. He nodded and sat back, stunned into silence.

"Can I see her yet?" Landon asked quietly.

His dad looked up, like he was just remembering Landon was there, and nodded. "I'll go find a nurse."

"I'm just going to use the bathroom." Landon lied, but it didn't sound like a lie. Technically, he was going to use it, or at least the mirror in it. He couldn't just sit in the bed and wait for his dad to find a nurse.

He was able to stand on his own, but he hurt like he'd literally been run over by a truck. He expected to see a bloody, bruised reflection in the mirror, but of course, he saw none of that.