Chapter 38
Inakr’s blood splatters across me, coating my skin and clothes. The tangy, coppery scent assaults my senses, making me lightheaded for a split second.
I shove him, and the Nephilim falls to the ground, clutching his hands around his throat.
He lies there, eyes filled with fury as his lilac-gray orbs stare up at me.
The deep, gaping cut under his chin looks grotesque; the ravaged underside of his face is outright monstrous as blood seeps through his fingers and pools beneath him.
Despite the gruesome sight, he’s already healing. Thankfully, he bleeds out faster, which means it will take him a minute to recover. But it also means he won’t be stopped permanently. If he were a half-breed, I could have killed him, but of course, it looks like we’re not that lucky.
A movement beside me makes me spin around. “Don’t you dare,” I warn, pointing my dagger at Nagamaru, who freezes mid-step. “I will not hesitate to give you the same treatment.”
My entire body vibrates with a mixture of adrenaline and rage. I’m more than capable of gutting them if they test my patience right now, and I don’t care if it’s only a reprieve.
Nagamaru’s lips curl into a vicious smile, their eyes glinting in a way I don’t particularly like, especially not with the way their forked tongue darts out to lick their lips as they assess me. “You’re a far cry from the meek human you once were, pet. It suits you.”
I choose to ignore their words and the nausea threatening to overtake me, turning to Malakai, still sitting on the ground with a hand over his stomach.
His eyes reflect approval for my actions.
“They’re right, you know,” he says with a smile.
While I don’t mind hearing this from him, it’s slightly uncomfortable to have Malakai agree with Nagamaru.
“I do know.” I return his smile, my voice soft enough so Nagamaru can’t overhear. “But I refuse to accept any kind of compliment from them.” I cast a quick glance at Nagamaru, and a shiver runs up my spine.
Malakai chuckles softly, and warmth spreads through me, putting me a bit more at ease. But then he nearly trips over his own feet, almost going down again. I scurry to catch him, but he waves me off, a grimace on his face.
Malakai drops his hand from the wound in his stomach and curses when he sees it hasn’t healed properly. “This is going to be a problem.”
He takes a step and flinches, the bite in his shoulder straining—also not fully healed. “A big problem,” he says between heaving breaths, the strain of his magic running out clearly taking its toll.
We used a lot of his blood for the summoning spell, leaving him weaker even before Inakr showed up. Worry fills my veins. This really is going to be a problem. I’m barely able to use any magic at all, and if Malakai’s unable to replenish his…
He extends his hand, and I return his dagger, concern still marring my face. Our fingers connect for a moment, the small touch almost enough to settle some of the unease growing inside me.
“Does he have a claim?” I ask, and we both glance at Inakr. “Does his being both angelic and demonic make him… you know, more?”
“No,” Malakai answers with a shake of his head. “If he wants power, then he has to take it by killing those in power. That’s clearly what he was aiming for. But he has no superior claim because of his mixed heritage.”
This only confuses me more. “Then what about what he said about demons taking something from him?”
Another shake of his head, but before he can say anything, a stumble and a curse draw our attention as we look up to find William clumsily approaching.
“What—where am I?” His voice shakes, but his eyes are clear again, meaning he’s no longer under Inakr’s control.
He stands there, clearly uncomfortable, a ruffled mess in a shirt, jeans, and sneakers.
The ordeal has left his skin pale, the angry scar on his face and neck standing out against the now even grayer undertone of his flesh.
A pair of lethal upper incisors jut slightly over his bottom lip, and his clawed hands clench and unclench at his sides.
Weirdly enough, the flesh vampire look is actually good on him.
I let out a relieved breath, glad that, all in all, he seems okay—and that Malakai held back, intentionally or not.
The First Son approaches us, taking in his surroundings with each step—the castle grounds, the clouded sky above us.
Then his eyes fall on Inakr. His brow furrows as he looks down at the twitching Nephilim.
A look of recognition flashes over William’s face, but it’s unclear if he recognizes Inakr from seeing him at the company or from what he just did to him.
He looks at us next, questions spilling from his eyes.
Malakai shakes his head at him. “Later,” he says.
William bites his lip, those sharp teeth almost piercing the sensitive flesh. After a moment, he nods in understanding, though he’s clearly hesitant. Then he sees Nagamaru. Something about the inhuman makes him snarl. Nagamaru flinches, swallowing hard and stepping back, ready to run.
“I recognize your scent,” William snarls, and both Malakai and I tense.
Of course, he recognizes their scent. Even if William doesn’t know who they are or what they did to him and his family, that smell of apples and nutmeg is a dead giveaway.
“Things are about to get interesting,” Malakai interrupts, nodding toward the gate before William can act on his suspicions. “Looks like Inakr came prepared.”
A different, alien kind of magic stirs in the air around us. It feels wrong—like an abomination, like… death and decay. William and I turn to face the gate behind us, both of us tensing at what we find there—waiting, watching.
“What are those?” I ask, crinkling my nose at the sight of the masses standing on the other side of the gate.
There are dozens of them, people who look like corpses.
They smell like corpses too, all in different states of decomposition, rotting from the inside out, with that foul kind of magic hanging around them.
The sight makes my stomach turn in disgust, bile rising in my throat.
They just stand there, as if waiting for something—likely a command to attack.
If Inakr brought them, why wouldn’t they attack as soon as the Nephilim hit the ground?
“Zombies?” William’s voice fills with excitement as he raises his clawed hands, the gleam in his eyes telling me he’s desperate to tear something apart.
I wish I shared his excitement, but I’m feeling done with all of this already. I just want to go home and curl up by the fire with a cup of tea. Is that really too much to ask?
“The vampiric version,” Malakai says, going silent as he thinks.
“If I’m correct about Inakr’s lineage, he can inject the dead with his blood and bring them back under his control.
” Another beat of silence, the look on his face telling me that he’s putting some things together.
Then a mumbled, “Those fucking psoglav. Inakr was their buyer.”
Malakai looks from William to me, taking a deep breath when he sees our shared looks of confusion.
“It explains why Inakr did cleanup—easy access. And when he decided he didn’t have enough bodies”—his look turns grave, and I almost dread what’s coming next—“he had Nikolay and Andrei get him more. Either he or Nagamaru might have used this as a way to blackmail them into becoming their middlemen.”
William curses, and I swallow the lump forming in my throat to voice my gnawing concern. I glance back at the zombies when I whisper, “Why are they just standing there?”
“Probably waiting for his command.” Malakai looks back at Inakr, who still lies lifeless in the dust beside us.
“We could take him and leave, but they might attack if we do. Besides”—he scans our surroundings as if looking for something—“Yblis won’t appreciate it if we leave a wall of vampiric zombies at his doorstep. ”
“I’m willing to take my chances with that,” I say, my voice grim.
A raven caws in the distance, making it clear that we’re being watched by his brother. Looks like ditching isn’t an option.
“How do we fight them?” I ask, unease filling my being while I shift on my feet.
“Decapitation. Which is going to be interesting, seeing their sheer numbers.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I turn to Nagamaru. I hate what I’m about to do, but I know I don’t have much choice if we are to take on these masses. I find them sneaking off, and they stop dead in their tracks when our eyes lock.
I point at the collar around my neck, trying not to let my anger take over. “Get that thing off of me, and I might entertain the idea of one hour alone with you.”
“Elly,” Malakai snarls, his voice deep and dangerous, an unmistakable warning.
“There’s a lot I can do to you in an hour, pet,” Nagamaru purrs, joy sparking in their eyes at the mere idea.
“I said I might entertain the idea,” I snap at them, refusing to tolerate their insinuations any longer. “It’s neither a promise nor a commitment, but it’s all you’re going to get.”
I’ll find a way out of it, which they don’t need to know. They just need to believe me and want me enough to take whatever vague little thing I offer them, even if it feels like whoring myself out.
If it’s what I need to get this collar off, then so be it. Malakai and I need to be at full power if this horde comes at us. They might not be able to kill us, but they can certainly incapacitate us—trap us so that Inakr can take us out however he sees fit.
Sounds reach us, making me jump out of my skin—a combination of moaning, whimpering, and screaming. It sets me on edge even more than I already am, twisting my stomach at the mere idea of all that could go wrong. I school my face to hide my borderline desperation.