18. Serafina
EIGHTEEN
Ascream tears through the dark trees, the stench of rot in the air making my stomach heave as I move faster than should be possible through the tall, spindly trees of the Hoia Baciu Forest. The ground beneath my bare feet feels unsteady, the wet mud shifting, making me stumble more than once as I try desperately to move forward. I don”t know where I’m going, but I know I have to get to the girl before she dies. I vaguely realize I’m dreaming, but the panic I currently feel blocks out everything as I sprint faster.
“Help! Please!” A girl cries, the fear in her voice almost as palpable as it is in the air. My magic lurches forward in excitement, and I curse as I keep running, branches whipping my face as I duck under a low-hanging tree limb.
“PLEASE,” the girl screams, and I shiver as I hear the pain etched into her hoarse cry. To my right, I see a girl with bright red hair. Tears run down her cheeks as she struggles against the ropes holding her in place. She’s different from the girl I saw in my first dream and, thankfully, still alive.
“I’m coming!” I call out just as my vision blurs, fading at the edges as the forest moves around me like a mirage. It’s disorienting, making my head spin as I pull up short, the forest spinning around me as a sickly sweet smell fills my nostrils. The smell helps disguise the rot in the air, the heavy burst of burnt caramel and patchouli becomes so thick I can taste it on my tongue as the world slowly settles around me.
I rock back on my heels, vertigo hitting me as the clearing I’m suddenly standing in comes into view. I recognize the shock that courses through my body, and yet I almost feel numb as my attention falls on the mass of bodies strewn over the ground.
The girl is gone, but I’m not alone. Arms and legs are tangled together, faces a mask of pain that will never soften. Their eyes… I swallow as I take in the death around me. There are dozens of girls lying dead on the frost-covered ground. Their bodies are all in different stages of decomposition. A thick cover of fog drifts over them, blanketing them in a twisted, cold sheet as they stare blankly up into the night sky, their lips parted in silent screams I can almost hear.
Disgust and unease fill me as I stare at them, my magic bubbling to the surface, begging for release and I suck in a breath, counting to thirteen before releasing it.
I shake my head, still feeling off. There is something going on here. My mind feels like I’ve been drugged, yet I have full control of my body. The hairs on the back of my neck rise, pulling me from my foggy thoughts, and I still. Closing my eyes, I listen, waiting for what I know is out there. It takes a few moments, and I’m just about to head deeper into the forest when I hear the faintest snap of a branch behind me. I grin, letting my rage slowly filter through my body as my fingers flex at my sides. In a second, the cold bite and heavy weight of my sword materializes in my hand.
“Shall we play again?” I ask as a now familiar dark magic that doesn”t belong to me creeps across the clearing. I step into a wide stance, readying myself for its first lash, knowing what to expect this time.
“Is it a game if I already know you will lose?” a deep, melodic voice croons, the gravelly timbre of the tone making goosebumps race over my arms as I try to pinpoint where the voice is coming from. It sounds different from the one I heard before, and I frown. Shit, how many of these things are there?
“You”re confident in yourself,” I whisper, letting my Reaper magic pour from me, holding the rest back. I’m not sure how my Demonic magic will react if I let it out, so I’ll keep it tamped down unless there’s an emergency. I use my magic rather than my sight to find the darkness creeping in. I wade through the clearing, letting the sticky black tar-like magic encompass the space around me as I search.
The hair at the back of my neck stands on end, and I hold my breath as the forest around me goes deathly still. I feel something move, the shadows in the night thickening to my left before they dance behind me and rise, trying to take me unaware.
“You shouldn’t be,” I rasp, lips twisting up into a smile as I turn, raising my sword and grinding my teeth as a wave of black and red magic clashes against it. The magic erupts with a power I’m not prepared for, making my feet slide in the slick mud before I have enough strength to shove it away from me. Calling on my scythe, I twirl my sword in front of me, letting it act like a shield as the reddish-black magic strikes again. The blow is strong, making me grit my teeth as I cross my scythe with my sword, twirling them in tandem, sending shadows skittering across the forest floor.
“Give in to me, little Reaper. I can help you gain control of your magic. Show you how truly strong you can be,” the smooth voice purrs into my right ear, sounding too close for my liking. “Your pain is delicious, yet you shove it down instead of embracing it. Let it go, give it to me, and I can make you so much more than you could ever dream.”
“I don’t trust my friends. What makes you think I would trust you?” I sneer, narrowing my eyes as I search the magic in front of me. There is movement from within, the center shifting in an oddly human way.
“Help,” a broken voice rasps, making my head snap to the side, a frown tugging on my lips as I search the dark forest for the voice. “Please,” the voice croaks, softening, and I panic. Shit, what if she”s dying? I need to get this magic out of the way so I can find and help her. But before I can think of what to do next, the giant cloud of reddish-black magic springs forward, wrapping me in its grip, its bands cording around me tight, trapping my arms at my sides.
My sword falls from my grip, vanishing into the ether, but I manage to hold onto my scythe as the bands of foreign magic crush me, tearing the breath from my lungs and making my vision spotty.
“You’re not trying hard enough,” the voice mocks me as I grind my molars in frustration, my secondary magic itching to come to the forefront and help. My magic starts to shift, taking on the oily blue color of my Demonic magic and I inhale sharply, ready to use it if need be. I’m just about to let it loose, knowing I’ll easily break free when the voice starts talking again. “That”s better,” the voice croons, making my heart stall in my chest. “Use everything at your disposal, little Reaper. How else will you finally be free of the binds that hold you to the Fae world?”
Binds me? Is it talking about its magic that currently has me trapped? Red magic circles around me; it”s warm, brushing against me like a lover”s caress. I shiver despite myself, leaning into the warmth as the foreign magic shifts, weaving with my Reaper magic, twisting together and sparking red. I expect it to jerk away once my magic touches it, but it only circles it again, twisting so thoroughly together that my blackish-blue magic appears like more of a braid, weaving with the red and black magic attacking me.
I watch in confusion, shaking my head as I watch the impossible. Not even Ryland’s magic can twist so thoroughly with my own without causing him pain. The feeling of fingers trailing down my spine has me stiffening, but when I try to look behind me, a band of magic winds around my throat, cutting off my oxygen.
Shit.
I try to inhale, but my airways are entirely closed off, and I can already feel my heartbeat quicken in response.
“There is no need for violence between us, Serafina,” the deep voice whispers, and I grit my teeth. How does this fucker know my name?
This time, I feel hot breath on the back of my neck, the fingers at my back dancing up my spine before hot, thick fingers wrap around the back of my neck. I can hear my heart in my head, the lack of oxygen slowly making panic rise to the surface, but I shove it down, focusing on the burning pain in my lungs as I tighten my grip on my scythe.
“You and I are more alike than you realize, two sides of the same coin,” the voice continues as a large body presses against my back. If I could breathe, I would have sucked in a shocked breath at the physical touch. Not used to having someone so close to me since I tend to hurt or kill anyone who gets too close. “One born, one created.”
Slowly, the air around me calms as our magic settles into a blanket of power, swirling in the air around us. It keeps us covered in a small bubble as bright sparks of red and blue illuminate the space inside. My attention is still locked on my magic, which has become surprisingly docile, while my mind races in panic and wonder.
My magic is calm. Almost at peace. How the hell did this foreign magic do something I have tried to accomplish for years?
“Look how beautiful we are together,” the voice… no, the man says, his thumb at the back of my neck moving in soft, almost soothing circles. Which only confuses the fuck out of me since the man is currently strangling me with his magic.
Speaking of which, my head is starting to spin, and I think I’m only a minute or so away from losing consciousness. Some of my Demonic magic is twisted in with my Reaper magic, but the main reserve is still free and at my disposal. Grabbing the oily blue magic at the center of my chest, I throw it at the man behind me, making him cry out in surprise and stumble back before he falls on his ass several feet away from me. I can feel his own magic respond, releasing my Reaper magic to defend himself as I gasp, my burning lungs filling with air.
“Stupid… mother… fucker is going to die,” I rasp to myself as I try not to stumble as his magic finally releases me enough to move.
My arms slip free of the strong bands as I swing my scythe and sever the red-black magic around my body. Spinning on my heel, I brace myself to come face to face with whatever monster is stalking the forest, only to blink in shock at the man pushing himself back to his feet in front of me.
Cold gray eyes meet my own as a wicked smile turns his pink lips up, showing bright white teeth that look slightly pointed. His square jaw is covered in a dusting of black facial hair that looks more like a shadow than an actual beard as his pink tongue darts out, licking a drop of blood from the side of his mouth. I follow the movement, noticing how his bottom lip is split, and I can”t help but smirk, feeling oddly satisfied that I drew first blood. Though he’s going to suffer much more than that for trying to strangle me.
“That was unexpected,” the man admits in his smoky, deep voice. His gray eyes, which are almost black, flick up and down my body, taking his time to study me as I arch my scythe in a circle behind my back. He runs a hand through his tousled black hair, smoothing it back into place as he watches me with keen eyes. “Oddly enough, I’m not mad about it,” he admits, crossing his arms over his chest as he smiles, arching his brow in amusement.
The guy is wearing simple black clothes, with belts of weapons strapped to his thighs and waist, making him look like some kind of mercenary. Not at all what I pictured the monster would look like.
“Who are you?” I rasp out, inwardly cringing at how rough my voice sounds. The man studies me, his smile still firmly in place.
“Does it matter?” he asks in response. I shake my head because no. It doesn”t matter. If this is the guy killing the girls from Silverwood, then he’s going to die. A pretty face and weird magic won’t save him from that crime. “Didn’t think so,” he chuckles, taking a step forward and holding a hand out toward me.
I can feel his magic build around me, and I bring my magic close just in case he tries to attack. After a moment of uncomfortable silence and nothing happening, I take a step back and look around. Is he trying to distract me? Is there someone else here that is about to attack?
“Serafina,” he whispers, bringing my attention back to him, not liking how odd it is to hear my name on his lips. He wiggles his fingers at me expectantly, and I almost laugh.
Does he think I’m going to take his hand after he fucking attacked me?
“What?” I ask, making his charming smile slip as he looks down at his hand and then back at me in confusion. “You can’t be dense enough to think I would willingly take your hand,” I add, amused as his face falls, darkening into something I’m more familiar with. Anger.
“Interesting,” he rumbles. His hand, still held out in front of him, balls into a fist before it falls to his side. This time, when he looks me over, it”s with an intensity I don’t like, and I shake my head.
“Are you the one killing all the girls?” I ask, my fingers squeezing the handle of my scythe as the man takes a step toward me. “Stop,” I snap, not wanting him any closer than he is now.
He’s only ten or so feet away from me, too far to reach with my scythe but close enough that he could easily lunge forward to attack. He doesn”t listen, muttering something I can’t understand under his breath as he continues his forward pursuit. I take a step back for his every step forward, my magic dancing excitedly at the chance to take a life.
“Stop!” I demand, warning him once more, licking my lips as my eyes fly to the steady pulse at the side of his thick throat. He’s closing the distance, and this time, I don”t step back but forward. I warned him. He chose his fate.
Reap. Kill. Destroy.
My magic spirals, making my heart skip a beat as I lift my arm, spinning my scythe, the blade glowing a shimmering blue as I bring it down on the man, aiming for his neck. The man lifts his arms in defense, but nothing can stop his fate now. Just as I brace myself to collect the man”s soul, my blade comes to a jarring halt, my arms quivering at the sudden stop as it clashes against the gleaming black blade of the scythe the man now holds in his hands.
My lips part in shock, and my gaze fixates on the intricate and detailed swirls etched into the blade of the black scythe that”s locked with my silver one. Then I look up at the man now standing in front of me. He’s tall enough that I have to tip my head back to look him in the eye, and I growl under my breath at the victory I see in their cold depths.
“Oh, Serafina,” he tsks, “you didn”t think my death would be that easy? Did you?” he whispers, laughing to himself before shoving his blade forward, pushing me back until my back collides with the rough bark of a tree. “I told you,” he hisses between clenched teeth, lowering his head to look me in the eye. “We. Are. The. Same. The only difference is that you allow yourself to be bound by Fae laws and emotions. The lives of these Fae are nothing compared to us.”
“I am a Fae!” I snarl back, grabbing my magic and shoving him off me with more effort than I want to admit. He curses but stays on his feet again as I leap forward, the years of training with my older brother coming in handy as I attack.
The man is fast, moving his scythe in front of him and blocking my blow as I bend and duck under his arm, calling on my sword and striking fast and hard. The man curses, jumping out of the way, but he’s not fast enough as my sword slices the fabric of his shirt at his back.
Magic suddenly hits me in the chest, bursts through my magic shield without a second thought, and I feel myself flying through the air before I crash into a tree. My back slams so hard into the trunk that the air is knocked from my lungs, and I gasp, trying and failing to refill them as I land hard on the frozen ground below.
Ow!
Fuck, this guy was holding back before. I wasn’t prepared for that much magic to hit me all at once. I roll to my side, my hands empty since I dropped my weapons when I was thrown back. I slowly crawl to my hands and knees, sucking in small puffs of air as I watch the man in my peripheral.
“That was not nice!” he snarls, his hand moving to his back, fingers coming away soaked with dark blood. I slowly shove to my feet, releasing a choked laugh as he glares at me.
“You started it,” I point out, cracking my neck to the side and using the pain coursing through me to help strengthen my magic. My sword slowly appears in my hand, and a sort of calm fills me as I feel my features morph, sharpening into a mask of death as a dark cloak of ether settles over my shoulder.
The man eyes me with a calculating look, his jaw clenching and unclenching several times as he too, starts to shift. I watch with bated breath as his Reaper form takes over. His handsome features morph into that which is suitable for the harbinger of death as he grows impossibly tall. His cold gray eyes glow red, and… oh shit, twisted horns slowly emerge at his temples, twisting back into the soft locks of his black hair moments before his own red cloak billows around his tall, muscular frame.
An odd sort of thrill races down my spine as I watch him, wondering what the fuck he is. He says we are the same, yet I don”t have horns, and I’ve never heard of a Reaper with a red cloak. “I did,” he murmurs, the tone of his voice pitching so deep in this form I have a hard time understanding him. “Do not make me finish this, Serafina. I would rather work with you than against you.”
“Are you killing the girls from the school?” I ask, trying to ignore how I still find the man in front of me attractive when he looks like a monster. To be fair, I look as scary as he does. Maybe this is an instance of like calling to like? Either way, I’m pretty sure I’m fucked in the head. When he doesn”t reply, I click my tongue, watching him from under the shield of my hood, and shake my head. Yeah, he can go all the way to the fiery pits of Hell with his request to work together. I may be a fucking monster, but despite my constant need and craving for death, I would never purposely kill an innocent girl.
I’d die before I let that happen.
“How are you in my dreams?” I ask again, needing these answers.
“Dream?” he asks and chuckles, lips tugging into a wicked smirk as he slowly spins his black scythe at his side. It’s bigger than mine, and red magic sparks from it when the sharp, intricately carved spear at the end of the long handle strikes the ground. I stare at him in confusion, trying to figure him out.
This is a dream… I think.
It is just like the one I had the first night I came to Silverwood.
“If not a dream, then what?” I ask in confusion, tilting my head while I let my magic slowly circle the man standing in front of me. He only laughs harder, and I glare at him. Yeah, never mind, I don’t need answers from this prick. “Leave,” I snarl, whipping my magic at him and shoving him back against a tree, making his eyes widen in shock before they narrow on me. “Give me the girl and leave,” I demand as I press my magic further into him. I watch his jaw tighten in anger as his head is pressed back against the tree.
“If this is a dream, Serafina, how is there a girl here? And how do you expect to bring her back with you?” I stare at him for a moment, unsure how to answer that one. Yeah, I’m definitely not thinking clearly. I shake my head, trying to figure everything out, but it”s like there is a fog there, suppressing all ability to think. “You know, you”re not being so nice when you are the one who called me here,” he adds, and my attention darts back to him.
“What?! I didn’t?—”
“You did. You called me here, Serafina. Now, what will you do with me?” he taunts, raising a brow as his eyes flick up and down my body suggestively. I immediately flush at his attention while simultaneously wanting to kick him in the dick. I grimace at my reaction and step back, needing more space between me and this guy.
Jesus. There is something in the air here, making me act insane. I don’t fucking blush when men look at me! I glare at them until they look or run away, typically in fear that their soul is about to be yanked out. I resist the urge to facepalm at my idiotic behavior as I look around, noting my surroundings. I’m still in the forest. Looking up, I frown when I see a cloudy sky. Shit, nothing to help guide me back to the school. I need to wake up! But the guy is acting like this isn’t a dream.
Suddenly, a stabbing pain strikes at my temple, taking me so off guard that I cry out, my vision darkening as I stumble back. My knees buckle, and I curse as I let my sword go, blindly reaching out to catch myself so I don’t faceplant in the mud below. My ears ring as I try to get my eyes to work, blinking several times, trying not to panic as my vision slowly goes in and out.
I hear the guy yelling something at me, and through tunneled vision, I see sparks of red magic brushing over my fingertips, soothing some of the darkness away. My head throbs as I lift it, looking into the red eyes of the stranger my magic still has bound to the tree. His features have changed, no longer the infuriating smirk I saw moments ago. Instead, there is black veinlike magic crawling up from his neck as he yells at me, straining against the magic that holds him captive.
“Serafina!” he snarls. The one word making it through the loud ringing in my ears as I look back down at my hands, a flicker of fear running through me at what I see. My fingers, which are covered in cold mud, have slowly begun to turn black. Not in the way my nails do when my Demonic magic forces my shift, but a pitch black that is creeping up my fingers, encasing them in shadows before moving further up my arm… wrist…
It”s then I notice that my hands hurt. Not a normal pain that I use to help keep myself and my magic steady. But a burning pain that feels like my blood has turned to acid and is eating me from the inside out.
“Dammit!” I hear the man scream, making me look up, my heartbeat pounding in my ears as he brings his scythe up and severs my magic. The pain that adds to me tears a scream from between my lips as the darkness curls in on me. The last thing I see is the red glow of the man’s eyes as he runs toward me, shaking his head and yelling my name.