Chapter 7 Tenebris #3
“Oh, Rina.” He materialized a few paces in front of her, the scent of pine needles and black pepper breaking through the air. “I’m here to play.”
Something sharp plunged into her abdomen, ripping through tissue and muscle as it punctured through her back. The taste of copper pooled on her tongue, the thick, viscous liquid rushing up her esophagus.
She choked on it, slumping forward with her hands out. Her forehead met his solid chest, and her fingers curled into his shirt.
“Tenebris, the Night Village. A place where mortals congregate to worship the High Goddess of Night, a place where no light touches.” Acacius twisted the wooden stake deeper. “How fucking divine.”
Marina whimpered, feeling every splinter from the jagged spike lodge into her organs.
Waves of agony screeched up her core and pulsated into her jaws.
The intense pain was grounding, though, allowing her a second of reprieve from the bottomless trench that had made a home in her heart.
She could stay here forever, caught on the pointed end of Acacius’s revenge, numb to her brokenness.
Dribbles of blood drained from the corners of her mouth.
I want to disappear.
She let her eyes flutter closed, supporting her weight against her forehead on his chest.
Gods, she was tired of fighting.
The heavenly rays of the dream she was in moments ago reemerged in the front of her mind.
If she could go back in time, she would confess that she had no idea what path she wished to go down, and maybe Father would smile down at her and fill her ears with his wisdom. If only she’d been willing to listen back then.
Wherever he was, she wanted to go to him.
You made a vow.
The reminder revived her life force, relighting the pyre in her belly.
You’ve been selfish your entire life.
You must see this through.
Her eyes opened. The glow of firelight glared down at the tops of her blood-soaked feet.
Distract him.
Just a little longer.
She raised her chin, releasing a ribbon of onyx from her palm. “Then let’s play.”
Her fingers curled into a fist, and the whirling black tendrils took form into large, inky spikes. They stabbed out in all angles, skewering Acacius’s body.
Marina stumbled backward over chipped cement blocks, regaining her balance and quickly ripping the stake from her middle.
She winced at the warm blood gushing down her thighs.
Acacius hung like a fish caught with a spear, coughing out a crimson spray. Blood ran down his chin. Puddles soaked through his black linen, dampening the slick material.
Marina tossed the stake aside, feeling her wound tug as it stitched back together. The lethargy from the blood loss cleared out of her head.
She stood firm, the wind lifting her hair from her shoulders. “Take your Chaos and leave my village, Acacius. You are not welcome here.”
He lifted his head, a gruesome, manic look stirring in his eyes. “We’re”—he coughed again, splatters of red spewing from his mouth—“just getting started.”
She inhaled sharply, pressing her tongue against the backs of her teeth.
Crazy bastard.
Before she could get another word out, Acacius ripped his arm forward and caught her by the wrist. Gravity shifted underneath her, and her body ascended in the air.
Fuck!
Acacius held on to her as he teleported them. She raised her foot to kick out of his grip. He caught her ankle and spun them both in vicious circles. Her hair slapped in her face, cutting across her eyes.
Acacius threw her like a child skipping a rock across a lake. The harsh momentum beat against her bones.
She teleported mid-air, dropping down on a rooftop, a part of the village the fire hadn’t touched yet.
The pads of her feet scuffed against the rough shingles.
She needed to draw him away from the mortals to give them a chance to regain clarity from his divine power.
Acacius slammed down on the roof, throwing tar and shards of wood up in his wake.
His figure distorted into cobalt ribbons.
Marina braced herself as he reappeared within arm’s length and lunged for her.
Her legs gave way against his collision, slamming her down on the rooftop.
She grunted from the impact and flung her arms up. Darkness gushed from her fingertips, banding together in the shape of a long, thin dagger. Its pointed end slammed against the solid shield of his divine power. Like a nail to a piece of marble, it rebounded and dispersed back into smoke.
Marina tensed the muscles in her abdomen to raise up. Feeling her strain, Acacius locked his knees around her waist and pinned her in place.
She swung her fist at his face. He caught her knuckles in his palm, securing her wrist in between his index and middle finger.
She threw out her other hand. His thumb wrapped around her other wrist, and he braided both of her hands together in the steely grasp of his long fingers.
She bucked her hips against his pelvis, pulling against the hold he had on her arms.
“Enough of this!” He slammed the back of her hands down above her head. “Fight me, Marina!”
The sound of her name wrapped in his voice took her by surprise. Not Rina, but her full name, like a plea.
She halted in his hold, lost in the fury twisting on his face, the vehement desperation in his shout, his tone cracking on his words.
He slumped forward, shaking his head. Pieces of his pale hair stuck to his neck and cheeks, marred in ruby and soot. “I’ve seen you bring gods down to their knees with a look. You are holding back. This is not you.”
Marina held his gilded gaze, hard and furious, hating that she resonated with the agony trapped inside of them.
“Why do you need this fight?” There was an edge to her voice, a leak of agitation. Because even more than she loathed herself, she loathed him for noticing the emptiness in her.
Acacius lowered down to her cheek, his breath fanning over her ear. “Because it is all I have.”