Authors: H.M. Ward
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rage had engulfed Collin, making him shake as he was forced to allow Eric to manhandle me. I was certain Eric grabbed my breast, because he knew Collin and I were finally together. And that Collin was watching. The action would force a wedge between us, making it easier to push Collin away—making it easier to convince him that he had to stay behind. Apparently, Eric planned it that way. A fight would make him give me some distance, if not make him so pissed off that he left me entirely. From the looks of it, Eric and I were intimate. But we weren’t. It was a plan to leave Collin behind.
A plan that would keep him safe.
I sighed. Eric was smart, but he had no heart. It was cruel. I supposed that was why he did it that way.
As I neared the side of the stage, I stopped in front of Collin, and looked up into blood red eyes. This was the very spot we first spoke. I sat in a chair where he now stood, as he exited the stage. I remember that day in vivid detail. I never expected to be standing with him in this same spot with half the ceiling missing, surrounded by splintered wood and shattered concrete. A breeze blew through the decimated room, lifting the ends of my hair.
Collin’s hands were balled into fists, crossed over his chest. His words were eerily calm when he spoke, “Does he always do that to you?” He asked as if Eric and I did this a lot.
Fucking Eric.
I scowled, shaking my head. I could explain, but I didn’t. Telling him that Eric only did it because he was standing there would make it worse. Collin looked into my face, studying my eyes. Then he asked softly, “Did you like it?”
My heart lurched. I never expected him to ask that question. My face grew hot as I blushed. I pushed my way past him, saying “I don’t want to talk about it. I told you I had to do it. It’s over now.”
But he grabbed my arm, stopping me. I spun around and looked up at Collin. “It’ll never be over with him. You two have some kind of connection. Am I supposed to just let him do what he wants with you? Ivy...” he growled, shoving his hands through his hair. The muscles in his arms were corded tight, ready to snap something in half.
I pressed my lips together. Sorry for causing him pain. Sorry that my fate was tangled with Eric’s. “The only way he’ll need more power is if something goes wrong when we try to take the dagger.” I paused looking up at him. This was the hard part. The part I knew he wouldn’t consent to. “I need to go with him. Will you wait for me here?”
Anger flashed in his eyes, “I’m not going to stay behind and let him... Ivy, he screws with your mind as much as Locoicia. I can’t let him...” I cut him off.
“You promised. You said you trusted me. Please Collin. I have a plan, and if it works, I’ll need you here. I’ll need you here even more if it goes wrong.” I told him what we planned to do, and why I needed him to stay behind. Collin took my hands, wrapping his fingers around mine.
The fire in his eyes faded. His blue gaze tore into mine. “I can’t let you go into battle with a sadistic lunatic as your only means of help. Ivy, you’re asking me to sit back and watch…” Horror gripped his throat, cutting off his words. His hands reached for my face, and tilted my chin to meet his gaze. “Don’t ask me to do this.”
I pressed my hands to his, wanting to feel his skin against mine forever. But that wasn’t possible. I had to convince him to stay behind. So I nodded. “I have to. Eric’s the one who has Shannon under his control. He has to come.” I wanted Collin to understand, but the pain in his eyes said he didn’t. I took his hands in mine, “I have to go.”
As I turned to leave, I swallowed hard. I didn’t like leaving him behind, but Eric was right. He shouldn’t come this time. It was risking his life for no reason. And if things went screwy, someone needed to be here to restrain Shannon.
It was necessary.
As my hand slipped from his, I said softly, “See you in a little bit.”
With his jaw locked, Collin nodded in one smooth motion. There was nothing else to say. I was doing something he didn’t like, with someone he hated. Collin watched me walk toward Eric.
Eric’s arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me tightly against his body.
“Go to Heckscher State park—the campgrounds by the field. I know you’ve been there.” I had. I knew exactly where he meant. I wondered what it would look like now that demons walked the Earth.
A grin spread across Eric’s face. If Eric said a single taunting word, I’d punch him. I could feel Collin’s gaze burning into the side of my face. It had to be this way. He was safer here. Swallowing hard, I closed my eyes and
effonated
Eric and me to the dagger.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Eric glanced over his shoulder. Snow covered the bloodstained ground, hiding a multitude of sins. Flurries flew by, not recognizing the horrors that surrounded them as they drifted from the heavens to the earth. The Martis encampment lay in front of us, across a barren field. I would have never seen it if Eric hadn’t brought me here first. There were rows and rows of tents. They varied in size, and every single one of them blended perfectly into the background. Eric had to tell me what I was looking at when we arrived. There was a slight shimmer around the edge of each tent—a white line that was almost completely lost against the newly fallen snow.
Glancing at Eric out of the corner of my eye, I asked, “How’d you find this place? I can barely see it.”
“Angels are creatures of habit,” he whispered, gazing over the frozen land. He turned to me, explaining, “It’s the same type of encampment they made last time. The tents are made from ethereal linen and blend in almost perfectly. But there are ways to tell.” He grinned. “See the circle around the camp?” I nodded. “It’s from their sentry. It’s the guard’s line, the perimeter that they are protecting. And the center of the camp is squashed flat. Basically it looks like a massive circle depressed on an area, leaving a rim of untouched ground around it.” He shrugged. “It’s easy to find when you know what you’re looking for.”
Tugging my hand, Eric and I moved closer to the Martis camp. If Shannon was still alive, she was in there doing something mundane—the equivalent of washing dishes because of what Eric did to her. We’d
effonated
to this point to avoid the Dreanoks. But other things screamed out in the night in this place. Things that made my blood run cold. I wasn’t certain exactly where we were, but Eric said we were still in New York, close the epicenter. Close to home. Close to where the gates of Hell stood wide open.
I followed Eric until he stopped at the base of what had been a massive oak tree. All that remained was a splintered trunk that jutted out of the earth like a massive hand. He pressed me to the tree, protectively, looking past me to the camp. The bloodlust whispered at the back of my mind.
I fixated on Eric’s lips as he spoke, “Shit. There are more here than there were this morning. And, is that?” His face fell. He looked down at me with wide eyes. He leaned his head into the tree, pressing me harder into the stump as he sighed. The broken tree base was the only thing between us and the camp.
“Eric,” I breathed. He was suffocating me.
He looked down at me, still crushing the air out of my lungs, “Your heart’s racing.” A faint smile lined his lips.
“I’m about to die. Of course it’s racing.” Eric’s brow pinched as he removed some of his weight from my body. “Don’t give me that look. And that wasn’t what I meant, but thanks.”
He lowered his gaze toward the frozen ground, “You’re talking about my curse, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.
I am.” I looked up at him. Eric’s amber eyes met mine. “You know as well as I do what’s going to happen if I use the stone. There isn’t anyone left, is there? Everyone you cared about is dead. I know. I saw. It’s part of your curse.” Eric looked away, not wanting to hear my words. “You never let yourself get close to anyone, but you screw up every once and in a while. You loved Lydia and it was the reason she died such a horrific death. You cared about Al, and the curse twisted that death so that it was by your own hand. Despite how hard you’ve tried to make me hate you, I don’t. And I know you care about me, which means I’m next.”
Eric’s lashes concealed his eyes as he looked down. His heart beat slowly under his shirt. “You shouldn’t say such things. It’ll only...”
“No, it won’t. You can deny stuff all you want, but the curse isn’t going to ignore it because you do.” Eric’s face was still downcast. I tilted my head to catch his eyes, “Our futures are intertwined. The repercussion of me using the stone is the only variable.” I paused, “Eric, I’m going to die no matter what. You’ve
gotta
know that by now. Even if I survive using the stone, and your curse doesn’t lead to my death... there’s still something else. Something I can’t escape from. The death angel’s
gotta
be following me around, waiting, because it’s only a matter of time. I’ve accepted it. Now, you need to.”
Eric’s golden eyes watched me, but neither of us spoke. The wind whipped across the land, tangling my tendrils in its frigid breeze. Eric’s hair lifted and blew into his eyes. He didn’t reach to smooth it down. Finally, he said, “The stone won’t kill you.” He glanced back across the field, speaking softly, “It has to take a price, but death won’t be enough.” He paused looking down at me. “I’ll help you learn to bear it, Ivy. And survive whatever comes next.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead, softly. Completely unlike anything that Eric’s ever done.
Confusion wrinkled my brow, “What was that for?”
A soft smile spread across his lips, “Ancient traditions. That’s all.” His hands were pressed to the tree, holding me in place. Eric’s mask slipped, and what I saw made my throat grow tight. Sincere
affection,
and admiration burst through, shining transparently on his face. I smiled. I couldn’t help it. He leaned in, touching his forehead to mine, and said, “Stop doing that.” I hadn’t meant to, but I melted the veil away and got a glimpse of what he was feeling for a second. I grinned at him.
When he looked up, he released me, and his veil was back. It instantly blocked the softness that I’d seen. Glancing across the field, he took in a deep breath. His smile faded, and I could see the worry in his eyes.
Conniving, ruthless, Eric was worried. This wasn’t good.
I twisted around to see what he was looking at, using the tree to shield me from being spotted. Eric’s hand rested on my shoulder, and he pressed into my back, whispering in my ear. “The camp is set up as a place to heal the wounded. Shannon would have been healing if I hadn’t...” he paused. His hand rose next to my ear, his finger extending to a tent the same brown and blood red color as the ground, topped with snow. “Earlier today, she was in there. But, the angels weren’t here then. I don’t know how to get past them. They’ll sense us if we take another step toward the camp.” He dropped his hand and turned. A burst of cold air took his place at my back. He stepped away from me, pressing his fingers to his temples.
“What’s wrong? So there are a few angels?
So what?”
Eric glanced at me. “No, you don’t get it. Warrior angels are guarding the camp - Seraphim. You’re basing what you know about angels on the ones you’ve met. Seraphim don’t pat you on the head if you wander into places you shouldn’t be and then send you on your way with a cookie. They kill you.”
Watching Eric, I asked, “Is that what you were? Before you used the stone?” He glanced down at me, not meeting my gaze.
“It hardly matters now, but yeah. I was.” Eric remembered his life. The things that had been forgotten were shoved back into his mind with acute clarity when I merged his soul with his body at the Pool.
I added, “That’s why you know so much. That’s why you were a warrior Martis—the best. That’s why you’re able to help me now and know so much stuff. It wasn’t chance. It was fate.” I glanced up at his face to see his reaction, but as always, Eric remained coolly composed.