Chapter Forty-Two
Veyn
Idiot mortal.
From their very conception, the human brain has astounded me even while I’ve been vexed by their sheer stupidity.
My woman’s human is no exception. He released my brothers from their binds, unleashing them where they can hurt Lenora.
And for what?
Once the baby was born, I would have given him Julen Duval’s head on a platter. His decision to make an offering to these two idiots served nothing, except to put our woman in danger when she is already vulnerable.
Truthfully, it’s not even the poor choices he’s made that irk me. It’s that he did it the very night our baby was going to come into the world. Now, because of him, I may miss the birth because I must confine my brothers before they can touch her.
I start with my brothers’ toys. The Duval brothers standing mute and still over the corpse of their father.
A fact they will never know, but I can smell off the blood gelatinizing across the altar.
Blood I can’t taste because it wasn’t offered to me, and a reminder that it has been days since I’ve fed.
My only hope is that they will be as weak as I currently am and I can contain them once more.
Pushing that aside, I bind and hook the two together. I swaddle them in ropes of serrated tendrils that puncture molted flesh and sew them together, back-to-back, flesh binding and fusing together.
I mold them until there is nothing but the twisted remains of what may have been a living thing. Discarded in the filth, they are a single torso with four arms and four legs and two heads. Each limb twitches like a spider attempting to flip itself right side up.
It was wasted energy, but a show of strength that needed to be witnessed. My brothers need to be reminded of my power … as little as there currently is.
“You created the rules,” Dain mocks from beneath his crudely shaped human frame.
It’s poorly sized. Julen Duval wasn’t a small man and the majority of his excess flesh hung around his belly. The difference has created a flabby pocket that hangs to my brother’s knees. Even the skin around the face, the jowls droop off Dain’s skeleton in the worst way.
He looks ridiculous.
“Exactly,” I say. “I did create the rules, and the rules are that I am in charge. Neither of you wield any power without me.”
“Not anymore,” Rase cuts in. “We have been freed. We are no longer bound by your control.”
He isn’t wrong.
By offering them an offering of blood, the human has broken my seal to them. He’s given them their own covenant. A religion centered around them with only one follower. What power I had to contain them has been severed and they know it.
“Now what?” I ask instead. “Will you set out in the world and feed at will? Will you make mankind bow to your will?”
Dain scoffs, the motion making the loose skin around his cheeks swing. “We will make this world as it should be. What once was. We will be worshiped as gods, not rot beneath their feet. Surviving on the scraps they deem fit to toss our way. We will no longer be slaves to creatures beneath us.”
I understand their frustrations.
Living in the dark with only the stench of death and decay as company while the very humans who swore an oath to worship you systematically forget your existence with every new generation is never ideal, but we …
I am also bound by blood. Sealed in this tomb.
It’s not a matter of wanting to stay, but a fact that I cannot leave without Usher blood being spilled.
And there is only one Usher left.
My woman’s human.
As much as I would love to slit his throat and let him bleed across my altar, it would hurt her. I will never allow anything — not even the prospect of my own freedom — hurt her.
They are not bound by any such oath.
They were bound to the house because they were bound to me. Without that tether, they are free to go as they please.
“Such lofty dreams,” I state. “Why are you still here?”
“We are not like you, brother,” Rase says in a voice made for chewing steel. “We will not imprison you in this place.”
I push a large portion of my power to keeping the shield protectively around Lenora.
I increase the number of barbs for good measure.
Within the confines, I can hear her soft weeping and the human’s gentle words of comfort.
I can taste the blood and pain soaking into the altar.
Each drop fuels my power, giving me strength to hold steady.
“You won’t touch them,” I tell my brothers. “They are not yours.”
“The human man is ours. You gave him to us. We can do as we please with him, including spilling his blood to free you.”
In a normal world, this desire to save me would be seen as compassion. Love, even. But it is none of those things. Their motives serve only to feed their hunger.
Killing the human would free me.
But it will also give them power. The blood of a sacrifice can break our bond, but the blood of a follower, a worshiper will make them unstoppable. Killing the human will give them the thing they have longed for from the moment I created them.
Power.
Strength.
Once they are gorged, they can rain their pain and torment across the earth, gathering and consuming until mankind falls into the pits of hell.
I cannot allow that.
In a few minutes, my child will be born into this world and I will not have it born under the reign of terror. I will not let Lenora suffer. They are my priorities and I will die before allowing my mistakes to hurt them.
“You cannot have him,” I tell them simply.
“The child then.” Dain snickers. “It is still of Usher blood, albeit diluted, but you can create more.”
My fingers twist into the palm of my hands, gouging talons into the callused palms. The warm trickle of my blood stains my skin.
“You will not touch my child, nor will I allow you to leave this chamber.”
All humor vanishes as it becomes clear that they will not convince me. That I will not stand aside and allow them my family. Even with no expressions that I can properly read, I know they are displeased.
And I don’t give a fuck.
They may no longer be bound to my will, but I have centuries over them. I have power. I am their god. And I am pissed.
I deflect the first snap of chains. It swings wide and cracks off a pillar, sending a shower of dust raining down around us. I miss the second and it punches me in the sternum. The weight of iron nearly knocks me off my feet. My feet skid on stone as I brace myself.
“Do not make us fight you, Veyn,” Dain warns. “Let us take one and we will leave.”
My wings snap open, blades glinting across the edges of each fold. I unsheathe my claws in preparation. But I say nothing when I backhand Rase with a tendril of razorblades. I slice across his jugular, knowing it won’t kill him, but cutting a fold of skin that is threaded shut by a link of iron.
Dain snarls and makes an awkward amble at me that would have been comical, except I know full well the strength he wields if he gets his hands on me.
I barely manage to deflect him with my wings.
I slice the naked flesh of his suit and watch him shriek as his new suit is shredded.
Bits of skin hang, exposing his bloody torso.
Behind me, beneath my crafted dome, Lenora screams. Her wail distracts me for just a second.
The perfect opening for Rase to charge with the full weight of his bulk.
It slams straight into me and I feel the ground vanish only to meet me a second later with a deafening smack that sends agony down my side.
I wheeze as the air escapes my lungs and that single distraction is enough for Dain to ram his fists into my barricade. The attempt shreds the flesh across his knuckles. It peels layers of Julen Duval back to the flayed flesh of Dain’s fingers.
Not giving him the chance to do it again, I pull the threads of my powers, small pieces, and bind them.
I hook my brothers together. Drive my tendrils around and through them.
I press them, shredding flesh and bone. Chunks of torn meat hit the stone in sickening plops that can barely be heard through their wails.
The effort is costing me. I can feel the wane the more I syphon from my reserve while maintaining the protective wall around Lenora. Her blood isn’t enough to fuel me the closer she gets to bringing our child into the world. I need more.
They know it.
They know that I can only hold on for so long before I must make the choice to lower the shield or let them go.
“You should have let us kill him,” Dain snarls, nude once more, save for a grotesque mask of Julen Duval’s face plastered partially over his like a macabre mask. “You wouldn’t be so weak if you had his blood.”
I bare my teeth but save my breath. I already know I will need what little I have left to get Lenora and the human somewhere safe. I need just enough to open the mirror for them and pray they can pass through without me.
With sweat blinding me, I thin the shield enough to see Lenora on the altar, knees up and open. Thighs slick with blood. Her dark hair is a wild tangle clinging to her temples and along her throat. Exertion and pain flush her face, damp with tears, but set in a fierce and beautiful snarl.
Her dark eyes find mine and wide.
“Veyn!”
I hate the tightening in my chest with the knowledge that this will be the last time I hear her say my name. It was never supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be mine for the rest of our lives. And her human.
“Forgive me, little one,” I tell her softly through the link we share. “I must break our bargain.”
Fresh tears spill over her lids and down her cheeks.
“What … what are you talking about? No. Please don’t leave me. Please.”
My tendrils waver. A shudder that passes through me as I push to contain my brothers.
I steel myself to her pleas, her broken sobs, and focus on the human, face stark of all color, except her blood smeared across his hands and up his arms.
“Watch over them.”
A muscle tightens in his jaw, but I know he understands and will not argue. Unlike Lenora who is trying to push herself off the table. Possibly to get to me.
“Take her. Go through the mirror,” I tell Marcus. “Now!”
I appreciate that he doesn’t hesitate.
He pulls her off the dais, kicking and screaming, and bolts up towards my mirror. I use what’s left of the shield to pull open a window and I watch them disappear.
Then it’s just me and my mistakes.