Chapter 48
Elyse
The moment the gray-eyed hound wrapped its jaws around Lazarus’s throat, the pain coursing through Elyse ceased. The circle of flames evaporated. The roaring in her ears died away, replaced by Lazarus’s screams.
The two other hounds had sunken down low, ready to pounce at her. But when they heard their master’s cry, they twisted to help him. In a blink, they were on their gray-eyed brother, ripping him off of Lazarus.
Elyse watched, stunned, her muscles still recovering. The three hounds tangled together, vying with teeth and claws for dominance. For revenge. Elyse couldn’t understand. Why had the gray-eyed hound turned on Lazarus?
The realization was a blow to her heart.
It wasn’t a hound at all, but a kind, brave, gray-eyed shifter.
Zubir. He had saved her. He had given her the one shot she needed.
He had wrecked Lazarus. The demon lay on his back, his head barely attached to his body. His chest still rose and fell in rapid succession.
Yet it would take more than that to kill him.
Elyse scrambled, frantic to find the Blade of Hanael. It wasn’t in the circle. Killian had it. But Killian was—Killian was where?
“Elyse!”
Killian’s voice barreled into her, the command and desperation in it tangible.
She turned and saw him sprinting toward her, clothes tattered and nose bloodied. In his hand was the Blade, extended out to her. He was closing in fast.
She reached out her own hand, just as Killian entered the circle. Lazarus was starting to stir, rolling onto his side, his head drooping at a sickening angle. But Elyse closed her hand around Killian’s, around the hilt of the Blade, and together, they spun through time and space.
Everything went black and cold and sharp and loud, for only a fraction of a second as they transported closer.
And then they were back in the arena, Elyse on her knees, Killian standing beside her. Both of their hands wrapped around the Blade, the knife poised above Lazarus’s heart.
Killian let go, and Elyse plunged.
She drove the Blade hard into his skin, through his bones. Right into his cold, wicked heart.
Lazarus gasped, the sound so satisfying. So unlike his haughty laughs or his cruel taunts. He looked at Elyse, eyes wide, a mixture of fear and anger boiling there.
“N—” he began.
But before he could even get the full syllable out, he erupted into smoke.
The smoke, as black and haunting as night, billowed and swirled. It crashed back and forth, like a caged beast hurling itself against invisible restraints. Finally it shot straight up, pluming high up and beyond the clouds.
Around the arena, people gasped and shrieked. The Hellhounds, too, were exploding into smoke. The whole stadium became a cloud of black haze until the smoke lifted, funneling itself into the sky.
When the air cleared, the chests of gold had vanished as well. Elyse and Killian were alone in the circle. Elyse’s hand shook as she held the Blade. The dark steel was clean, not a drop of blood on it.
“You did it,” Killian uttered. He sounded more confident than Elyse felt. Her heart raced so fast, she thought she was going to pass out. It couldn’t be over, could it? It had to be a trick. Lazarus was somewhere, waiting for her.
But Killian repeated the words as he slid his hand around her back. “You did it, Elyse. He’s gone. Forever.”
Forever. That word was so sweet, especially from Killian’s lips. She had killed Lazarus with the Blade of Hanael. He could not return. He was truly gone. She had done it.
With a wave of nausea, she realized the fallacy. She might have been the one to plunge the knife in Lazarus’s heart, but she had not done it alone.
“Zubir,” she cried. She twisted around Killian, trying to find Zubir.
Killian’s hand was firm on her shoulder as he held her in place. Terror seized Elyse as she met Killian’s eyes. He gave her a somber shake of his head.
“No, no, no!” She grasped Killian’s shoulders and craned her neck to see behind him. It couldn’t be—not Zubir.
But it was unmistakable.
It was something she wished she could never see, but felt she needed to witness. Zubir’s body, returned in death to his human form, was mangled, almost to the point it was unrecognizable. But she knew, without a doubt, who it was.
“There wasn’t anything you could have done,” Killian consoled. “It was over the moment he attacked Lazarus.”
It was true, but it didn’t hurt any less.
Zubir’s cousins, back in their human forms, begin to gather around him. One of them brought a cloak and laid it over his body as the others offered up prayers. They grieved openly, wailing in each other’s arms.
Elyse couldn’t bring herself to face them. Not yet.
“Killian!”
They turned their heads toward the voice. Across the arena, three figures stumbled toward them—a limping Manny, flanked on either side by Corin and Nina.
Together, Killian and Elyse rose and began running toward their friends. The two groups crashed together, tears and hugs abounding.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Elyse sobbed the words again and again to Manny. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to do it, of course I didn’t want to, but she begged me. She would have done it anyway. She would have done anything to save you.”
“I know.” Manny couldn’t quite meet her eyes as he said it.
That was okay. He could be angry with her for as long as he needed. She wouldn’t blame him.
“How did you do it?” Nina asked.
Elyse looked at Killian. She didn’t have the strength to answer that right now.
Killian opened his mouth to explain on her behalf, but stopped. A chill snaked its way through the stadium, sending a shiver up Elyse’s spine. Something haunting quivered in the air.
Corin, Manny, and Nina all looked wary, but Killian smiled.
“Someone has come to collect,” he said.
“Indeed, I have.”
Elyse whirled to see a hooded figure standing behind her, red curls flowing around a pale, sultry face. Crimson lips twisted into a victorious smile. “The Blade of Hanael is mine,” declared Lady Death.
Elyse looked down to her hand, which still gripped the Blade. Its cold hilt bit at her fingers in the frosty air.
“Lady Death,” Elyse said by way of greeting.
Death gave her a cool nod but kept her distance.
“Death?” There was desperation in Manny’s voice, and it broke Elyse’s heart. He stumbled past her and dropped to his knees, prostrating himself before Death.
“Please—please. My wife—Bring her back,” he pleaded.
Death’s expression held a hint of pity. “Your wife is not mine to command. Her life remains intact.”
Manny looked up. Relief flooded his face, but it was undercut with pain.
“Please, bring her here. I beg of you.”
“I can only go where I am summoned,” Death said dryly. “Your pleas are wasted.”
Elyse’s gut twisted as she watched Manny continue to beg. She had done the same with Death not long ago.
Killian stepped forward and placed a hand on Manny’s back. “We’ll find her,” he murmured. “We won’t stop until you’re together again.”
“The Blade,” Death demanded, extending her palm.
Elyse took a step forward, the Blade laid across her palms. “A deal is a deal.”
“Wait.” Killian spoke with such conviction. Elyse froze in place. “Do not give her the knife.”
Death looked at him with disdain. “You have slain the demon. The Blade is now mine. Those were the terms.”
Killian stepped toward her with a casual gait. “I did say I would give you the Blade of Hanael after killing Lazarus. But ‘after’ is such a vague term, wouldn’t you agree?”
Death’s eyes turned a shade of black so dark, they seemed to swallow the light whole. “You dare play games with me?” Her voice had a ghastly tone, vibrating with ancient power.
“I do, actually,” Killian said. “You cannot hurt us, or anyone we care about, unless it is their predestined time to die. That was part of the deal.” He took a menacing step toward Death. “So I think I’d like to bargain a few more things.”
Death’s eyes shot to Elyse. Her hand remained extended, waiting for Elyse to comply. But Elyse took a step back and clutched the knife closer.
“What is it that you want?” Death hissed.
Killian’s face was calm, stoic. “You truly cannot bring Sera back?”
“I cannot.”
“Do you know where she is?” Elyse asked.
Death nodded slowly, calculating.
“Tell us where,” Killian insisted.
“Is that all?” Death sneered.
“No.” Killian’s throat bobbed. “I want you to bring back Zubir.”
Hope flurried in Elyse’s stomach.
Death pivoted, glancing toward Zubir’s broken body. To the shifters gathered around him, mourning. “I cannot. He is too far gone.”
The feeling in Elyse’s stomach turned sour. There was rage in her voice as she said, “He’s been dead for minutes. Killian was—”
“Killian’s body was almost entirely intact when I resurrected him,” Death seethed, stepping toward Elyse. “The shifter is not.”
Elyse felt her heart drop. But she was not done bargaining. “What about another?” she asked. “Someone whose body has been preserved for many years.”
Death’s eyes narrowed. “You speak of that old man’s wife?”
Elyse nodded. It was the least she could do, after stealing Mr. Grayson’s chance at resurrecting his wife. “Cordelia. Bring back Cordelia Grayson, and tell us where Sera is, and we’ll give you the Blade. Here. Now.”
“I cannot bring her back for long. Her body will not be able to sustain a full life.”
“How long?” Elyse demanded.
Death contemplated. “Seven years,” she offered.
It was an easy decision. Elyse would take seven years with Killian over no time at all. She knew Mr. Grayson would do the same. “Done,” she accepted.
Death closed her eyes and lifted her hands. A fearsome energy emanated from her. Her lips moved in a quiet chant. Elyse waited for a long moment, unsure what to expect.
“It is done,” Death said.
Elyse tried to picture it. Somewhere, a woman was awaking from a long slumber. Somewhere, there was a tearful reunion. Somewhere, two hearts merged again.
“Your friend is in the demonic realm. The place you know as Hell. She’s near the city of Aniei.”
Manny’s breath hitched. “Thank you,” he muttered, again and again.
“Do not tarry,” Death warned. “Hell is a dangerous enough place for its residents. Even more so for humans.”
Elyse strode forward and presented the Blade to Death. “Until we meet again.”
Death’s lips curled into a smile. “Not for a long time,” she mused. “If you’re lucky.”
She snatched the Blade from Elyse’s hand, and then she was gone.
Elyse turned to find Killian smiling at her, his hand extended. Waiting for her to take it. She happily did.
They were left to embrace their victory, tainted by broken hearts.