Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Expect the unexpected. Surprise kills.
CELINE
The shock of the frigid water is dangerous.
I let the icy stabbing sensation fuel my urgency; I won’t be able to hold my breath forever. Squeezing the speargun between my thighs, I tug on the cable.
Hand over hand, I pull, propelling myself deeper under the water.
Instinct tells me it’s a mistake; logic tells me it’s my only chance. Eyes wide, I search the murky water for my opponent. There. Through the bubbles, bark, and tree needles, I see it.
Long like an eel, the monster has mud-colored, segmented skin. No eyes at all. Its mouth is perfectly round, as big as a tree trunk, and filled with hundreds of needle-like teeth.
My feet twitch, desperate to propel me toward the surface.
Blood stains the water, oozing from the place my spear is buried. I hit the monster in its second segment—where its neck would be if it had one. Not a bad shot, but it’s not enough.
The worm thrashes beneath the water, trying to free the spear.
My fingers are numb.
It’s getting harder to hold on.
Every muscle in my body screams for me to let go and swim away.
There’s only one problem: I can barely swim. We don’t have bodies of water in the celestial realm, except on the bottom tier, which I’ve never visited, so there was never any reason to learn.
During the early days of our friendship, I made Imani go to the community pool with me. I learned to doggy paddle, but that’s about it. If I try to get away from this beast, there will be lots of thrashing. Since it seems to track its prey through vibrations, I wouldn’t make it five feet.
I’ve got to kill it down here.
Before I run out of air.
I fall limp. Hovering motionless in the icy water, blood pounds in my ears. I can only hope the monster doesn’t feel it.
When it turns away from me, I pull on the spear line with all my strength. The end of the spear bumps against my numb fingers. Yes! I wrap them around the smooth metal and yank it free from the monster, then press the button to retract the line and rearm the gun.
Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.
My lungs burn. They’re full of fire instead of oxygen.
The monstrous head whips my way.
Its teeth pulse. The water vibrates around me, then I feel a terrible suction.
It’s going to drag me in and grind me up. Exactly like the trees.
The spear snaps back into place.
I aim down. Grapple for the trigger. Nearly drop the gun. My fingers won’t cooperate.
Black spots dance in front of me, blurring until I can barely see the points of the beast’s teeth.
Find the trigger, Celine. Pull it. I’m not sure if the speargun fires or if I’m imagining it, but a trail of bubbles descends into the monster’s mouth.
They’re a pale, off-white color, underwater twinkling lights.
No, that’s wrong. They’re red. Deep red, like rust.
A gurgling rasp shakes the water.
Then everything goes silent.
My lungs burn.
The speargun floats away. I watch as it drifts toward the surface absently. Follow it. Now. Kick, Celine. My mind has strong opinions about what my body is doing, but I’m tired.
A vision of Ciprian’s screaming face appears in the brackish water, his hands and feet slamming repeatedly against invisible barriers.
Then I see Luca laughing as we watch TV on the couch.
Alistair’s fangs sinking into my neck. Malach swearing he’s mine—repeating our betrothal vows and breaking my heart with his honesty.
My toes twitch—sluggish and stiff at first, then violently.
I kick as hard as I can.
Not because my life depends on it, but because theirs do.
Father may succeed in killing me. It won’t be today.
My wings retreat into my back, eliminating the worst of the drag pulling me down. I kick frantically until a blinding light sears my eyes. Air. Delicious, perfect air. I suck it in desperately.
There’s roaring—in my head, in the stands, everywhere. I’m not sure if it’s real or not. Exhausted and half-frozen, I paddle for the nearest tree and cling to its bark.
I don’t know if the monster is dead, but I’m still alive. That must mean something. A wave laps against my neck, filling my mouth with water. I spit it out and glance over my shoulder, coughing in violent bursts.
Something floats to the surface.
Muddy brown and streaked with red; it doesn’t move.
I sag against the tree.
Riven shouts at the crowd, then the water drains from the arena.
It’s not a second too soon.
I’m too cold. So cold, I might never be warm again.
As the water recedes, I sink with it until I’m left slumped on my hands and knees in the mud, shivering and wheezing. The water burns as badly on the way out as it did on the way in.
I try to summon my wings and my endless supply of anger. I need fire. But nothing happens. There’s no warmth left inside me.
My eyelids flutter.
Boots in mud. They’re running toward me. I tense, but I’m completely tapped out.
Ciprian’s black eyes meet mine.
His lips are moving, but I can’t hear anything.
Flooded with relief, my whole body shuts down, and I slump in his arms.
Ciprian tucks my face into his neck, and his pulse beats against my lips. Faster than normal. He’s scared. I want to tell him it’s okay, that I’m okay.
Something prickles in the back of my mind. I ignore it and snuggle into his heat.
“You’ve got to pick, and then I’ll get you out of here. I swear. Can you point for me, babe?”
Ciprian needs you. Wake up. I force my eyes open and do my best to focus on the elevated platforms. All three of them are already pointing. Malach at Luca. Luca at Alistair. And Alistair—Alistair is pointing at Luca, his eyes blood-red and frenzied.
Two-to-one.
I roll my eyes to the raised podium. Riven is staring, his cloak billowing behind him in the wind.
Something stirs inside me. Hatred, maybe? I don’t care because the spark gives me enough strength to lift my hand and point.
Riven nods. The crowd goes wild. And I pass out.
“She shouldn’t be asleep. It’s dangerous!”
“I didn’t know how to stop her.”
“I’m not blaming you, Ciprian.”
“I know. I just—fuck that veydra. I told him I wanted to fight by her side. He didn’t even consider it.”
“We knew that was a long shot.”
Luca. It seems like a lifetime since I last heard his voice. How long has it been? Two days? Three? Too long. I need to see him.
I try to open my eyes. They feel glued shut.
I groan, annoyed by my body’s betrayal.
“Baby.” Luca kisses my cheek, then my forehead. His hands shake violently as they skim my face and neck. “Baby, please wake up.”
“Take it easy,” Ciprian warns.
But I don’t want easy.
I want Luca.
Open. Now, dammit.
My eyelids peel open. Each one weighs fifty pounds.
Luca’s face fills my field of vision. He’s all I see. Hazel eyes, dark eyebrows, his lip ring trapped between his teeth. Alive and here with me. He’s beautiful.
To my horror, I burst into tears.
“No, Celine. Don’t cry,” Luca chokes and gathers me against his chest. I’m wrapped in something soft. As I snuggle closer, fur grazes my inner arm. “Are you warm enough?” he asks, wiping tears from my cheeks as if they’re going to freeze there if he waits too long.
“C-Ciprian,” I sob.
“I’m here, Celine.”
Luca drops one of his arms, and Ciprian surges in to fill the space. Sandwiched between them, as close to the fire as possible, my tears fall even faster. They blur my vision, but something about the cell is different. I blink to get a better look, but I’m fighting a losing battle.
“Ciprian?”
“Yeah, hot wings?” His voice is scratchy. He’s finding it as difficult to speak as I am.
“The birdcage . . .”
“We upgraded. Bigger bed, a bath—”
“And a shower?”
“Yep.”
“I need one,” I whisper. Covered with mud and grime from the arena, I’m so filthy I want to crawl out of my own skin.
“It might sting,” Luca says. “You were hypothermic, baby.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I killed a giant flesh-eating eel monster today. I think I can handle some hot water.”
Five minutes later, I’m singing a different tune.
“Ow,” I hiss.
“I told you—”
I clamp my hand over Luca’s mouth and cower away from the boiling water.
We decided to start with a shower so I can step in and out of the spray until I warm up. After that, I’ll soak in the tub, which Ciprian is currently fiddling with. He hasn’t managed to turn the water on yet, and from the muttered curses coming from his direction, it’s not going well.
“Everything okay over there?” Luca asks.
“There are seven knobs,” Ciprian snarls. “I’m trying to run a bath, not decode a fucking bomb. Who designed this?”
Luca smirks at me, his lips curling until a cute little line brackets his mouth. “Have you tried turning them all on at once?”
“Of course,” Ciprian snaps, lifting his head to glare at Luca. The expression fades to slack-jawed wonder as he takes us in. “I tried that first.”
“Left to right?”
“Mmhmm.” Ciprian scrapes his hand over his chin. My skin pebbles.
“I’ll come take a look.” Luca kisses my cheek and steps out of the shower, leaving me to acclimate to the water at my own pace.
The shower doesn’t have a curtain or door. With a floor made of glass-smooth black stone that slopes in the middle, the water drains through a grate in the center. It’s surprisingly nice for a prison cell.
Gritting my teeth, I stick my calf under the lukewarm water and wait for the pins and needles to go away.
“Don’t push yourself,” Luca says without turning around.
I narrow my eyes at his back, then get distracted by his tight ass as he bends over to help Ciprian with the tub. Ciprian’s cheeks are pink, and he’s clearly flustered. Luca doesn’t notice.
I step further under the spray and let it run down my side as I watch Ciprian squirm.
“What did you try?” Luca asks, messing with the knobs.
Ciprian glances at me over Luca’s hunched back and raises his eyebrows.
I fan myself and grin.
“Ciprian, are you listening to me? I asked what you’ve tried.”