Death's Rival, page 4
Emery’d seemed perfectly fine while we were all talking in the kitchen. Slowly, the rational part of my mind gave way to the predator that lurked beneath. I hissed quietly, a spike of jealousy and anger propelling me toward him while my hand curled into a fist.
Gentry made no move to brace himself or back away. Instead, he turned to face me, apparently ready for whatever I was going to do to him. “I should’ve turned her down, but I was weak, so damned weak, and she offered, and I…” He trailed off, gnashing his teeth together.
“You couldn’t resist because you still want her,” I finished for him.
The only answer I received was the muscles in his neck straining and his eyes turning solid red. I should’ve been furious, but the anger slipped away as quickly as it came, leaving me worried for my friend instead. If he spent more time around Emery and me this summer, he’d understand why I wasn’t upset like he expected. Or if he bothered to talk to me about her at all. He’d avoided having anything to do with her. Now he threw himself headfirst into an increasingly complicated tangle of emotions with no idea how it was going to affect either of them.
“It’ll never happen again,” he assured me.
“Do you have any idea what you opened yourself up to?”
“I can handle it,” he replied slowly, his brow furrowing.
“If that changes, don’t keep it to yourself like you do everything else.”
“You’re not pissed?”
I walked past him to the garden fence, eyes dancing over the pumpkins and squash that would need to be picked soon. What was happening between Emery and me was something I wasn’t ready to thoroughly discuss with Gentry, not when we were about to set off to investigate a possibly dangerous location. Besides, Emery and I still needed to have what was probably going to be an awkward conversation.
“They’re blaming that witch in custody for the murders and the spiritual attacks,” I informed him, hoping he’d go along with me and not bring up drinking Emery’s blood again. I swallowed back a growl when another flash of anger shot through me. That was all Emery needed to witness; Gentry and I going at it with all this other shit happening. I shut my eyes, refocusing my energies on what we were about to do and catching Gentry up on the latest news. “The survivors of the House of the Crow have also been moved to a safehouse. So far, there have been no more attacks against them or the other houses.”
“Brolan told me about the witch. Said they were pinning the spiritual attacks on her, too. There’s no way she’s strong enough, but the Guard’s stopping their investigation into any other possibilities.”
“And all they have is Astrid’s word—and Cassandra’s, of course.”
“A confession that can’t be true.” He glanced worriedly at the second floor of the house behind us. “On my way out, Brolan made it quite clear he’s backing Cassandra’s plans for those with death magic. He didn’t admit it, but I’m sure he’s working with her.” His face scrunched in anger when he spat, “He threatened her.”
“Who? Emery? Why?”
He gave me a blank stare. “Why the hell do you think? He’s still under the belief that she hexed me. Said she’d be getting what’s coming to her.” He scoffed, kicking at a rock in the grass and sending it careening through the garden. “I think he’s the one being manipulated.”
“Magically?”
“You should’ve seen the look in his eyes. He wasn’t himself for a second. I don’t know how she’s doing it, but Brolan’s not entirely himself right now. It all goes back to that freaking witch. I talked to over a hundred people trying to track down any information on her background.”
“And?” I asked, not liking this new development of Brolan possibly being influenced by Cassandra’s magic. Or his threat against Emery. As if her life wasn’t in danger enough, now I had to worry about Brolan coming after her. Gentry had to be more of a mess than he let on, which didn’t bode well for any of us.
“Finding anything tangible proved difficult, but all the rumors point to the same story. Cassandra Thornheart was once part of the Twisted Thorn Coven.”
Now I understood why he’d left that part out and why he was so adamant about Emery not going to this scarred location. “That’s not possible. She’d have to be, what, nearly a thousand years old?”
“At least. There were also rumors that she was one of the founding members of the coven. Whoever she is, she’s far more powerful than we thought.”
“Debbie mentioned the possibility that Cassandra used magic to put herself in magical hibernations,” I told him. “If she was around that long ago, she could’ve always been a member of the Order.”
“Make it easier for her to form her own little cult within it,” Gentry mused. “Who knows what trouble she’s stirred up over the last thousand years if this is true.”
“Only way to know for sure is to go to Ireland.”
He grunted, annoyed, but didn’t try to argue. Putting Emery in a possibly dangerous situation wasn’t ideal, but she was right. The best way for us to figure out anything about the Twisted Thorn Coven would be to ask someone who was a part of it. Seeing as they were all dead, Emery was the only one who might find that link.
Once we got back, I’d have to make plans to have another talk with Roderick about Cassandra. Whatever information he’d neglected to tell me could be far more critical than he realized. He’d done a damned good job of avoiding being alone with me all summer. I’d gone home a few times and seen him in Burning Glade, but he made sure to always have someone else present.
Roderick Talbot was keeping secrets. Prince or not, I had to get the truth from him.
An hour later, Gentry, Emery, and I stood in Debbie’s workshop. The black-framed mirror glistened when Gentry placed his hand on it. He said the name of his contact in Galway, and the image rippled, changing from our reflection to the face of a dark-skinned man with a short beard. He grinned and waved us through.
Gentry went. First, Emery followed him, and after assuring Rose and Debbie one more time, we’d all come back in one piece, I joined them.
“Gentry, I didn’t expect to hear from you again so soon,” the vampire said, shaking Gentry’s hand.
“Yeah, this wasn’t part of the plan, but things changed.” He threw a scowl toward Emery, who beamed back at him. “This is Emery and Aleister. Bradan has been a friend for, hell, since the whole time I’ve been turned.”
“Got into a wee bit of trouble together over the years,” Bradan said with a laugh, taking Emery’s and my hand in turn. “From what I hear, you’re still getting into shit. What’s this I hear about Brolan threatening you?”
“Threatening you?” Emery asked sharply. “Why?”
This was the first I’d heard of it, too, and I raised my brow, waiting for him to respond.
“It’s nothing.”
“Threatening to no longer have you be his heir is more than nothing,” Bradan said, and Gentry growled, glaring at him. “What? News spreads fast. It sounds like you two had quite the row.”
“You’re no longer his heir?” Emery grabbed Gentry’s arm.
I caught the way his body tensed in reaction to her sudden touch. If she noticed, she ignored it and didn’t let go. By drinking her blood, he’d become more attuned to her very presence, and he’d remain so for a day, possibly longer, depending on how much he’d drank. I’d bet on longer since the magic flowing through her veins wasn’t that of an ordinary human, let alone a witch.
And Emery probably had no idea what she was doing to him.
“Brolan was angry; we both were,” Gentry said nonchalantly, but Emery’s pointed gaze had him adding quietly, “and yes, he disinherited me. Possibly even kicked me out of his House.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, stepping back with a curse. “It’s because of me, isn’t it? He knew you were coming to help me.”
“Emery—” Gentry started.
She held up her hand. “We can talk about this shit later. We came here for a reason. Let’s get this over with.”
Bradan thankfully changed the subject and told us he’d found what Gentry had been searching for that morning. He loaned us his car to get there. Once we piled in, Gentry drove us into the countryside, far away from any houses or towns. When he parked and said we had to walk the rest of the way, I was grateful to be out of the car. The friction between Emery and him was suffocating.
Gentry led the way through the trees, and a different kind of pressure hit me in the chest.
Emery gasped, staggering into a tree while she struggled to breathe.
“What is that?” she asked, shaking her head and digging her nails into the rough bark.
I steadied her, sniffing the air. “Magical residue. Old, incredibly old. Bradan was dead-on.”
Gentry’s eye twitched, but he wasn’t looking at me. His gaze was locked on Emery. From the way his hands kept curling at his sides, he debated letting her go any further if it was affecting her this bad already.
“Emery?” I asked. “You want to go on?”
“We came this far. You really think I’m going to turn tail and run?” She pushed off the tree, steadied herself, and removed her arm from my hand. “Let’s go.” Her voice was weak, but she squared her shoulders and set off ahead of us, each step measured. “You guys coming or what?”
Gentry growled, storming after her and leaving me to bring up the rear of our small, unhappy party. The further we walked, the thicker the air became until it was like pushing through water. Emery’s breathing was harsh, but she refused to stop or slow down. She swayed a few times, and I rushed forward to keep her upright. She’d mumble she was alright. Worried we weren’t going to make it to the heart of what was clearly a magical infestation, I was about to cut our losses, pick her up, and take her away when the trees changed. They were no longer lush and filled with green leaves and healthy, sturdy branches.
Every direction I looked, there was nothing but charred, dead tree trunks. The grass was burned, and with each step, we kicked up ashes. When we passed the last tree, a wide clearing was laid out before us. With the sun already setting and the dark clouds rolling in, an eeriness settled on my shoulders. I didn’t want to be here. My skin prickled with unease, and instinct told me to get the hell out of here now. Scattered around were remnants of whatever wooden buildings had once stood here. The timbers also charred and mostly turned to ash.
Emery cursed and fell back into me, her body shaking.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, searching for someone charging toward us.
“You don’t see it? The ground. Look at the damned ground.”
I immediately dragged Emery back, pushing her behind me. Carved and burned into the dirt were the same sigils that had been on the totem. They were spread out in ever-tightening circles leading to the middle of the clearing. Unlike the ones that had pulsed to life with a heavy dose of magic, these appeared dead.
Making sure Emery stayed back, I crept forward and rested my hand on the first sigil I came to. There was magic in it, but it was long since used up, judging from the tingling in my fingertips. Nothing jumped out at me or came alive.
“It’s residual,” I said over my shoulder. “They can’t do anything.”
“You’re sure?” Gentry asked roughly.
“Yeah. Feels like everything else here. Emery would be the one to judge that, though. She’s more magical than me at the moment.”
Gentry’s growl was deep with apprehension, but Emery stepped up beside me, crouched, and rested her hand flat on the sigil. I had my hand ready to snatch hers off the ground if anything happened. Seconds turned to minutes, and she finally shook her head.
“He’s right. Nothing here is active, magic-wise, at least.” Straightening, she brushed her dirt-covered hand on her jeans and pointed to the center of the clearing. “Best place for me to tap into any energies left behind will be in the center.”
“Why can’t you do it here?” I asked, catching Gentry’s mouth opening out of the corner of my eye. No doubt he was about to ask the same question, albeit not so nicely.
“Whatever occurred here, being at the center of it will give me a stronger connection to the spirits that stuck around. I’ll be alright.” She started forward, stopped, and glanced at us. “If I stop looking alright, yank me out. If I look like I’m dying or something.” She paled when she said the words, abruptly turning away with her head down, walking to the middle of the clearing.
I wasn’t sure what her reaction was about until I spotted Gentry’s face set in a hardened scowl.
“One of these days, it might be a good idea to tell her about Kiley,” I told him quietly. “And about that night.”
“Why? So she can have more nightmares than she already does?”
“How do you know she has nightmares?” I asked, curious. She’d told me about a few but hadn’t seemed like she had enough to disrupt her day to day life.
Gentry’s gaze slid to me, his brow arching. “You tell me.”
Her blood. He’d be able to tell from her blood. I’d spent practically the whole summer with her. If anyone should’ve known she was having nightmares beyond the norm, it should’ve been me. But it wasn’t. Even without drinking her blood, Gentry had seemed more attuned to Emery’s emotional state than I had. Probably because despite all our heated moments together, we had yet to make a deeper connection, something we’d both have to admit eventually. I wasn’t even sure why I kept putting that conversation off. Emery and I weren’t right for each other, not in that way. Yet, for some reason, we kept being pulled back to one another.
“You guys coming or what?” Emery yelled.
Gentry and I blurred to the center of the clearing, stopping right before her. She was already seated, her hands on her knees, palms up. Her eyes darted from Gentry to me, the soft green glow of her irises telling me she was dying to ask what we were talking about. But the night was fast approaching, and Gentry had already told her when it fell, we were leaving. The stories he’d heard about this place at night hadn’t exactly been pleasant. Sounds of the people in pain, howling while they died. Crying out for help. I was surprised Emery hadn’t seen any apparitions yet, but they could’ve all moved onto the spirit realm.
“Hopefully, this won’t take long.” Emery shut her eyes but seemed far from relaxed. Her pulse raced, matching her erratic breathing.
Beside me, Gentry hissed, the noise so quiet I almost didn’t catch it. His fangs extended, but he wasn’t looking at Emery. His head was on a swivel, taking in our surroundings. The attack last night had left him on edge, but I didn’t think those cultists would realize we were here, not this quickly.
Emery sucked in a sharp breath, and her head fell forward. The tattoos shone through her grey sweater. Black irises grew around her in a tight circle, spreading toward us. Frost broke out at her fingertips and spread up her hands, covering her sleeves, and reaching up to her neck and face, and coated her ebony hair. White clouds appeared in front of her face with each breath she let out.
“Now we wait,” I muttered, picking up a small rock from the ground to toss from one hand to the other.
“Now we wait,” Gentry repeated, crossed his arms, and stared into the trees.
Chapter 4
Gentry
Emery’s body was still as death except for the subtle rise and fall of her chest. With every minute she was in the spirit realm, a tightening coil of anxiety grew in my gut. Drinking her blood had been an impulsive decision. I hadn’t stopped to think about the consequences. A blast of sensations struck me; they’d been doing that since the moment her blood touched my tongue.
Clenching my jaw, I turned away from Aleister, not wanting him to see me struggle to get a handle on what I felt. Or what I was sensing from Emery.
I’d taken blood directly from a donor plenty of times over my lifespan. None of them had been so close to me emotionally. And none were as magically potent as she was. Her chaotic mix of determination, worry, fear, anger, and annoyance set my teeth on edge. That would be bad enough, but with the random bursts of emotions came flashes of memories—Emery’s memories. The nightmares she had were the reason for the fear I sensed in her now. The images were glimpses of Aleister’s and my face bloody and shredded. I dug my nails into my palms, willing my temper to stay in check. I wasn’t sure what was worse at this point.
Seeing Emery’s nightmares.
Or seeing her memories of us together through her eyes.
Not once had she doubted my intentions. She’d been happy, but it was more than that. Experiencing her excitement was a piercing to the heart I didn’t expect. The love that came with it was gut-wrenching.
She’d loved me.
Those emotions were quickly replaced with the tangled web of desire and confusion she had for Aleister. I’d already seen a few glimpses of their time together. It had me reminding myself I couldn’t attack the vampire who’d essentially been my brother for the last century. I’d walked away from Emery, but he’d stayed. He’d been here for her. I had no right to be jealous of him.
Emery’s mouth was moving, but whatever she was saying, I couldn’t hear. She seemed alright for the moment. That could change in an instant. I wanted to yank her out of the spirit realm and drag her off, but that’d cause a fight.
The sun had fully set, and darkness quickly closed in.
Aleister paced in a circle around her, keeping his eyes on the surrounding woods. He paused when Emery breathed harder for a moment. She calmed once more a few seconds later, her face relaxing. His pale blue eyes darkened the longer he watched her.
“Aleister,” I said when I spotted the confusion in his eyes.
“What?”
“You never really answered my question about you and Emery. And I’m still waiting for you to hit me.”
He chuckled, the sound far from amused. “I do want to strike you, but not for taking her blood.”
