Chapter 13
Aslight slump of the Devil’s shoulders was the only sign of his relief at my answer.
“How do we do this?” I asked.
“Take my hands,” he said, reaching for me.
The skin of his palms was rough against my own, the sensation sending a pleasant frisson through me. I ignored it, looking at him expectantly. I wanted to get this over with before I lost my nerve.
“Call on your power.”
I gritted my teeth. “I can’t. I don’t know how.”
“Try.” He made it sound so simple.
Every instinct I had resisted, but I closed my eyes and searched for the hole in the center of my chest, which I was starting to think of as a well.
I had no trouble finding it this time, but no matter how much I coaxed or demanded or tried to grab something from it, nothing responded.
He might as well have told me to turn myself to stone. A noise of frustration escaped me.
“I can help you, if you’ll let me.”
“Fine.” My relief was potent, and ridiculous. How quickly I had gone from not wanting anything to do with him, to this.
Shadows wreathed our hands, and I felt him reach out through our thread of connection, calling to the power within me.
It stirred in my chest, as if it were a cat looking up lazily from a nap.
After a moment, it unfurled, stretching and warming before flowing through my limbs. I jolted when it touched his shadows.
Something snapped into place as light spilled from me.
Shadows poured from him, and our powers arced over us, twining around each other, like his and Death’s had on the bridge.
I felt his shadows through my light, as if it was an extension of me.
They felt like cords wrapped in velvet, soft and seductive, concealing a center strong enough to pierce my soul.
The contact was captivating. And addictive. I never wanted to let go.
My fascination lulled me into a daze, until I felt something stab me in the chest. Or try to. It bounced off only to wrap itself around me and try to burrow beneath my skin. I tensed, and my concentration faltered.
The Devil jerked with a hiss, his grip on my hands tightening. “It’s the Death Chord. You need to let it in. Try to relax.” He said the last word on a grunt.
“Sure. I’ll just relax while the realm tries to skewer me.” I grimaced.
His eyes narrowed in a way that clearly said Brat and I felt the urge to laugh. Instead, I rolled my lips inward and tried to do as he said.
Inhaling deeply, I held still, my eyes screwed up tight, and stopped resisting.
The Death Chord slid in smoothly, hooking into my chest. I gasped.
It felt just like it had the first time, like something was squeezing my heart, trying to rip it from my chest, except the pressure eased after a moment.
The sense of the Devil I’d gotten from our deal sharpened, clarifying.
He was beneath my pulse, like a second heartbeat.
His power was palpable. For a moment, it was as if I were standing on the edge of a vast, churning ocean of it, before it faded to a faint echo in the background.
Then, something snaked through me, up from my heart into my head.
“Fen.” I said his name without thinking, not bothering to try to hide the panic in my voice.
“It’s okay. The bond will allow us to communicate, but we need to let it into our minds.”
“You didn’t mention that part.” My voice was high-pitched.
“Maeve.” A wave of irritation hit me, hot and spiked—his, I realized. Then, he sighed and the irritation turned to soothing reassurance. “I know you’re frightened, but I need you to trust me. You don’t need to let the Death Chord take over your mind. All it needs is a foothold.”
I shivered. The In Between needed this, but it felt unbearably intimate.
“Create an antechamber in your mind for me, something separate. You get to control what you put in there, what I can see and feel. I won’t have access to any of the rest of you. Not without your consent. I’m doing the same for you.”
I opened my eyes to search his, but they were completely black.
Sincerity, conviction, and a hint of desperation flowed through our bond, so I did what he asked.
I imagined a room made of solid stone, as if it were carved from a mountain.
No cracks or crevices for him to slip through.
No door. I left a small opening for the Death Chord to slither through, and once it had, I sealed it inside.
The Devil rushed in, occupying the space I’d created. I tensed, worrying it wouldn’t hold, but it did. He didn’t breach the walls, staying confined just as he’d promised. Relief, bright and clear, washed over me. Mine or his, I couldn’t tell.
I felt the Death Chord form, stringing out between us, flickering until it became a steady thrum of connection with a low hum that resonated in my chest. It settled over the thread of our deal, encompassing and replacing it, until it dissolved.
And then, I was in a meadow filled with irises under a darkened sky. I could feel the Devil’s presence, like he was there even though I couldn’t see him. I turned, confused as to how I’d arrived. A blink later I was back in the Great Hall.
Light and shadows faded, the power in my chest coiling back up. Except this time, it didn’t disappear. I felt it there, dormant but waiting.
The bond between us, our Death Chord, was silent but undeniable.
Its presence felt more potent than our deal had, as did the Devil.
It was somehow disorienting and steadying at the same time.
As if the ground on which I stood was more solid than before.
It felt… right. It wasn’t that I’d found a piece I hadn’t realized was missing.
It was more like something that augmented who I already was, which made me shiver.
“Is it done?” I asked, breathless.
“Yes.”
My hands slipped from his. “Did it work?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “Can you feel it?”
I opened my mouth to say I had no idea what he was talking about, but amidst all the sensations running through me, there was something other.
Larger. Much larger. So vast I couldn’t comprehend its edges.
It had no pulse or breath, yet it wasn’t stagnant.
It moved, constantly shifting in minute ways.
Right then, I felt it settle, like the bones of a house at night.
I could sense a lingering tension at points, like the strain it had been under wasn’t gone, it just had eased.
Relief coursed through me, so strong I swayed on my feet.
The Devil reached out to steady me, and a rush of emotions flooded our connection.
Concern, tenderness, fear, joy, hope, anger.
There were so many, and they swirled through me so quickly, I stopped being able to name them.
I couldn’t tell what was mine and what wasn’t.
The room started to spin, and I collapsed against him.
I heard him groan.
The power in my chest unfurled, racing through my limbs. Hot and sharp, it felt poised to lash out. Please, not now, I thought. My pleas kept it from erupting, but it simmered under my skin, like an animal pacing with its eyes on a threat.
“I don’t—I can’t—” I panted, unable to catch my breath.
“Empty the room you constructed in your mind,” he said with a grunt. Shadows flowed from his hands, forming a thin barrier between us. His grip on me was strong and steady without being crushing, but I could feel him straining through our bond. As if he was trying to reel himself back in.
I squeezed my eyes shut and searched for the stone chamber.
The walls had disintegrated, leaving only small pillars at the corners connecting the floor and ceiling.
He was everywhere. Thoughts and images I didn’t recognize flickered through my mind, mingling with my own.
With a great effort, I heaved the walls back into place, rebuilding and thickening them, shutting everything that belonged to him inside.
“Good. Now pull yourself from it. Shut me out.”
I imagined the outside of the stone room—a solid box in my mind.
It took a few tries to stop thinking about what was inside, but once I did the maelstrom swirling through me diminished.
I could still feel the Death Chord connecting us, the low hum in my chest, and a faint echo of him, but the only emotions and thoughts I felt were mine.
The light under my skin faded, and my breathing slowed.
I pulled myself upright, out of his grasp.
“Better?” he asked, his shadows vanishing. His voice was calm, but he was not. The gold flecks in his eyes swirled so fast they nearly eclipsed the brown of his irises, and a tangle of emotions roiled in our bond.
I nodded.
He let out a breath, turned and walked several paces away. Bracing his hands on his hips, his head dropped forward.
I stared at his heaving back, unnerved by his discomposure. Now that I could feel his emotions, I realized just how little I knew him.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “Our connection isn’t like anything I’ve experienced before. I didn’t realize how easy it would be to lose myself in it.”
“Will it be like that every time we… open up to each other?” I asked with a wince.
“No.” He turned back around, his eyes back to their normal brown. His regret and shame simmered in our bond. “I won’t let that happen again. I’ll be much more careful about what I share until we both get used to it.”
I huffed a laugh. Of course he would be careful about what he shared. So would I. How in the realms was I supposed to learn to trust him?
“And if it gets too overwhelming,” he continued, “pull back, just like you did. You can always shut me out.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It’ll become second nature. We just have to practice.”
“Great.” I never wanted to lose myself like that again.
“Let me show you.”
I looked at him skeptically.
“I’ve pulled back everything from our connection, so the room in your head is empty.” His sincerity resonated between us.