Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
PARIS
The rancid stench of Aidan’s decayed body triggered my gag reflex. But that didn’t stop me from charging down the stairs, the crystal blade puffing to life in a cloud of silvery smoke in my hand.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I demanded, my eyes burning from the stink.
Maggots spilled from his mouth as he grinned, part of his jaw bone exposed from a nasty hole in his face. But that hole seemed smaller, as if he’d healed some.
Ugh. I didn’t need this shit right now.
“I’m here to see you,” he answered, his voice like a death rattle.
“Your timing is bollocks,” I countered.
He opened his arms, causing more waves of stink to hit me.
I paused at the foot of the stairs, my insides curdling, the fear itching across my epidermis like a million flea bites.
I had to kill him. Shove this crystal blade through his rag-clad body and end him before things got worse.
But years of devotion froze me to the spot. How could I undo all the prayers, all the love, every whispered plea to guide my steps through life?
And what had he done with them?
“Liar,” I whispered, my timbre a tremor. “Nothing but a liar.”
His golden eyes flashed. “Who? Me?”
Some of his golden hair had regrown. There were fewer of the sore, bald patches across his scalp now.
I didn’t answer, keeping my teeth clamped down on my bottom lip.
The wind gusting into the house billowed his rags. “Oh, Paris. There’s no need to be so scared.”
Maggots crawled around his feet, falling from his mouth like snow every few seconds.
I retched. “You…you tried to kill me.”
He waved a dismissive hand, taking a further step into the house. “Everyone makes mistakes.”
Really? That was his answer.
“Anger clouded my judgment,” he continued, those golden peepers inspecting the room.
Kill him…
“But I’ll do better,” he said.
“Doubt it.”
“And you can help with my convalescence,” he countered, ignoring my retort.
Man, that grin of his was pure malice.
I lifted the blade. “I’d rather eat pig shit than help you.”
He laughed, the sound like a malfunctioning drill. “Is that so?” His eyes fell on my dagger. “What is that thing?”
My chest tightened painfully. “You don’t know?”
He cocked his head. “Why would I know?”
“You’re a deity, right?”
“The best to ever exist.” His grin widened, a snowstorm of maggots pattering on the floor. “But sometimes things slip through the net.”
How was I not puking my guts up?
“You don’t look too well,” he said.
“Fuck you.”
Drawing on all my resources, and using the essence of the flora around me, I straightened my spine, preparing for battle. This prick wouldn’t survive the night. Deity or not, the fucker was a corpse. And corpses in this state weren’t exactly made of steel.
Unless he is…
Ugh. Damn doubt.
“Anyway, I’m here to get something from you,” he threw out, folding his arms behind his back.
“I’ve got nothing to give you, other than death.”
He found that hilarious. “You can’t kill me, Paris Raine.”
I hated his laughter and his mocking arrogance. “I’ll give it my best shot.”
“Is that so? Then come at me.” He opened his arms again.
I didn’t move.
Menace swam in his gaze. “What’s the matter? Afraid? Quaking in those grubby sneakers of yours?”
Was that supposed to be an insult?
Swallowing my anxiety, I kept up my rigid posture. “I’ll give you the first move.”
He took a few seconds to answer, his grin dimming. “Brave executioner facing down a god. Brave executioner trying to appear powerful and unafraid. But I see him. I feel his suffering and the exquisite torment of my betrayal.”
Shit. That hit me right in the emotional core. I defended against it as best I could, but its spikes breached my walls.
“Always remember there is light in any darkness,” he mocked me, quoting part of the rules we’d been told to live by after he’d liberated Quintrealm all those centuries ago.
Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies.
The word swirled in my head, breaking me down and dialing up my anger.
“Poor elf prayed so hard,” he added. “Poor elf on his knees. Poor elf begging, hoping, calling to me, seeking my love and comfort in so many dark days.” He took a step closer toward me. “The worst of them when his sister was brutally murdered.”
Ice flooded my veins.
“Pearl,” he prattled on. “Pearl Raine, his lovely twin. Betrayed by a so-called friend, body mutilated, poor Paris’s heart broken.”
That ice turned to fire. “Don’t say her name,” I warned, tears instantly rolling down my cheeks as if he’d opened a faucet.
Fuck.
“Pearl, Pearl, Pearl,” he said, every beat cruel. “And I heard you. I did. I heard your pleas, I heard every word. For I am Aidan and always have been. Everything you believed nurtured me, your threads connected to me.” A wider grin followed.
I wanted to scream and scrap, not listen to this.
“But none are more connected than you and me,” he said. “And I want to keep it that way.”
My knees were about to give out, my strength fading.
This wasn’t happening. This had to be a nightmare. And what the hell did he mean?
“Because you freed me,” he added.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. More blows to my core, more guilt taking swings at me for being the one to break his chains.
Kill him.
Just kill him.
“Fuck you,” I retorted, on the cusp of attacking now. I just needed to break the hesitation keeping my feet glued to the floor.
Kill him.
Just kill him.
“No thank you,” he countered. “I’m not Silvanus.”
My lips drew back in a snarl.
Kill him.
Just kill him.
He sniffed the air, his nose nothing more than a swollen scab with two pinpricks for nostrils. “I can smell it. The blood, the semen. Your lust.”
I bristled with fury, my hand tightening round the blade’s handle.
“What would Pearl think of this?”
Her name coming from that vile mouth again was enough to break me. I launched myself at him in a storm of sorrow and fury, driving the blade into his guts.
I felt it tear through flesh, black blood oozing over my hand like tar. A burp of toxic death wafted in my face as I twisted the weapon, waiting for the cry of pain, the realization that he’d met his end.
But he didn’t go down. He stayed upright, looking at me as if I were a clown.
In this moment, maybe I was.
“You should be dead,” I said, twisting the blade some more.
“Should I?”
He went to grab me, but I jumped back, leaving the blade inside him.
The fucker glanced down at it. “What a curious instrument.”
My heart was set to pound its way out of my ribcage. I scrambled to figure out my next move.
Why wasn’t he dead? Black blood continued to ooze from his wound, a fresh batch of maggots tumbling out in thick clumps. I’d fucked his belly up good, so where was the ending?
“I wonder what would happen if I stuck this into you,” he said.
An idea pinged in my head, one that might kill me. I could leap out of the window on my right, tear down the hill, and swan dive into the ocean. Fuck it. I’d rather take my chances against the cold water and riptide than help this guy convalesce.
Aidan. My Aidan. Gone forever. A liar, a rotting corpse.
A fucking monster.
The deity laughed, touching the blade’s handle. It vanished in a burst of silver smoke, reappearing in my hand.
His smugness collapsed, his eyes narrowing into angry slits. “I see.” He grabbed under his right arm, pulling it off his shoulder at the joint. Black blood and maggots fell free while he twirled it, brandishing it like a sword.
What. The. Hell.
My jaw practically hit the floor while his smirking returned. “The best thing about this body is its usefulness to beat you to a pulp with.”
The fingers on the hand curled inward, forming a fist.
“I don’t need to kill you to get what I want,” he added, then rushed me.
I spun out of his trajectory, making for the window.
“Paris!”
I launched my body at the glass, arms up, eyes closed.
My body slammed into the window as if it were concrete. My bones screamed in shock, my left wrist twisting with a crack.
“Fuck!”
I hit the floor, bouncing like a rag doll, the back of my head smacking the floor. I bit my tongue, blood filling my mouth.
Damn!
Colorful dots exploded in my vision, and the room spun with drunken blurriness.
“Wa fu happer?” I tried speaking around my swollen tongue, eyes watering from the pain.
My werewolf healing kicked in, the energy of the plants helping it work quickly.
Aidan appeared above me, bending over. Maggots tumbled into my face, crawling into my mouth. I batted them away, the movement triggering nasty, nauseating lurches in my skull.
Man, I’m going to puke for hours.
“Hello,” he mocked me, lifting his arm above his head. “Goodnight.”
Nope. I forced my body into a roll, avoiding the slap of his limb at the last second and getting onto all fours. Phew. Close one, though my wrist didn’t like it much.
Surging adrenaline helped keep its complaining at bay.
Cry about it later!
I puked though, stomach twisting, head still stuck in a dizzy loop.
“Stay still, elf!” Aidan bellowed.
Go find a grave to stink up, I thought, forcing myself upright.
Well, this was going to be an interesting fight.
I ducked as he swung the arm, dodging it with inches to spare.
“Face your fate! You can’t escape me!” he roared.
“Kiss my arse!” I retorted.
I launched myself at the open front door, hurrying down the path, vaulting over the gate. The hawthorn tree sent me a boost of energy, the dizziness beginning to ease up.
Yay!
Thanks, sweetie!
“Paris Raine!” Aidan thundered, the wind seeming to blow heavier in tandem with him.
Yeah, no. I ran down the hill, focused on the ocean. I was prepared to die if it meant denying Aidan what he wanted.
Whatever that was.
Actual thunder rumbled in the distance, dark clouds closing in, swallowing the stars. The air took on the metallic stink of impending rain, the wind picking up by the second.
Trust me to go for a swim in a storm.
Pfft. Blame Aidan.