Chapter 12 #2
He came back to consciousness with a jolt, eyes blinking open to the gloom of his cell, aftershocks still shuddering through his body. His release pooled on his belly, proof of his pleasure. Saints, had he cried out?
He strained to hear, but nothing stirred in the darkness.
And then he saw them: shades streaming through the space between the bars, distinguishable from the cell’s gloom by their impenetrable, ink-black tendrils, like currents moving along the surface of a river.
They flowed toward him, as unerring as metal shavings drawn toward a magnet, and sank beneath his skin, into that ever-widening vein of dark ore.
He felt them settle, satisfied, for all the world like his black dog curling in front of a fire.
By all the Saints and demons, what had he done?
He’d fallen asleep craving Katerina, wanting the comfort of her presence.
Had the shades that lurked inside him crept outward while he slept, slipping through the bars of the cell and moving through the corridors of the prison until they’d found his Dimi?
When he’d dreamed of touching Katerina, kissing her, moving inside her…
had it been a dream, after all, or had he truly been with her in some other form?
And if he had—had she given her consent?
The thought sent a horrified shudder rippling through him. He had to believe he would never force himself on Katerina. Anything else was unthinkable. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. But still—
He wrapped his arms around his knees, breath coming hard.
Was that why he’d seemed to be touching Katerina in so many places at once…
because it hadn’t been his hands, but his shades, which had no such limitations?
Had she known, and understood? Or had she thought it was a dream, as he had, and yielded to him?
Niko shuddered, fighting back the anxiety that threatened to consume him. Beneath it lurked a tantalizing possibility, flickering to life like a fanned flame.
If he had really done this, if his shades had been able to escape the confines of the cell and travel throughout the prison while he slept, what else were they capable of? Could he do the same thing deliberately, while he was awake, not in anger but in focused, cold concentration?
The shades would fight for him; that, he knew. But could they be his eyes and ears, his spies? How far from Niko himself could they travel, and what information could they gather? Could they, for instance, open a cell door?
He tried at once, but met with only the slightest stirring. The shades were well-fed after their encounter with Katerina. Gods, had they fed on her Light, the way they’d wanted to do with Morozov? Had they drained her?
Sickness swirled in his gut. It was bad enough that the Darkness within him could infect her at any moment, flowing down their bond to creep into her soul. But after what had happened in the clearing after the battle in Kalach, and now this…
They had to get out of here. They had to find Gadreel, to discover whether there was any truth to the demon’s assertion that he knew how to carve the Darkness out of a Shadow’s soul, the way he’d claimed when Niko’s blade had pierced his heart.
They would use him, and then Niko would kill him, whether the demon had told the truth or not.
A thought occurred to him, terrifying in its simplicity.
Demons were animated by the shard of Darkness that lived inside them, the same Darkness that fueled the shades.
In Kalach, Niko had called the shades to him, absorbing them into his body and vanquishing them before they could devour the village.
What if he could do the same to Gadreel—coaxing the shard of Darkness from inside the demon’s body and taking it into himself?
It was a horrifying idea, to be sure. But if he could figure out how to wield his shades at a distance, then perhaps it was possible. Perhaps he didn’t need to get close enough to Gadreel to Change and rip out the demon’s throat.
If he absorbed Gadreel’s Darkness, it would cancel out his own Light. Any hope of redemption would be lost to him. But if the demon had been lying, if there was no way to heal his soul, then he would rather die than go on this way.
If worst came to worst, then, he could take the Darkness into himself.
Maybe he could take all of it, every bit of the evil force that threatened to devour their land.
And then, before he could hurt anyone else, he could prevail upon Katerina to incinerate him and hurl the remains into the Void, returning the Darkness to its rightful home.
She wouldn’t want to do it, of course. She believed in his redemption.
But if there was no other choice, she would see reason.
And until then, he could use his shades as instruments of their salvation.
He would command them never to leave his side without his permission, and sleep lightly, so as to call them back if need be.
They would never touch Katerina while he slept again.
And in the meantime, he would practice, testing their limits.
He would learn what they could do, and when the time came, he would be ready.
Yes, every time he used the shades meant ceding a little more of his soul’s territory to the Darkness. But what was the alternative? Die here, for surely the trial they’d been promised was little more than a formality?
Resolve settled over him, cold and implacable. He would damn well give up a chunk of his soul to save Katerina. He would give anything.
For the first time since he’d woken in the interrogation chamber to find one of his own blades at his throat, Niko felt the stirrings of a welcome emotion: hope.