CHAPTER FIFTEEN #2
And there was Thuridan. He was alone, his arms tied in front of him around a wooden pole in the center of the room.
It was obvious he’d been beaten, and recently, since his healing capabilities hadn’t kicked in yet.
His eye was so swollen that it had fused shut, and it looked like a small plum.
His lip was split open, and while the bleeding seemed to have stopped, blue stains had crusted to Thuridan’s chin and throat.
Hearing the whisper of the tent flap, Thuridan’s good eye cracked open. It seemed to take him a moment to register who was standing in front of him. “Never thought I would be glad to see you,” he growled.
I kept my voice down as I tilted my head and asked sweetly, “Oh, are you finally getting tired of being everyone’s little bitch?”
Even with one eye, Thuridan managed to glare at me. “It is my honor to serve the Unseelie throne, but I’m not eager to die for some ancient asshole trying to claw his way out of Hell.”
“Not eager to die?” I repeated distractedly, kneeling to examine the ropes securing Thuridan to the pole.
A second later, I swallowed a curse—the knots themselves didn’t seem all that complex, but the skin on Thuridan’s wrists and forearms was red and blistering.
His guards may have only used rope, but they’d drenched them in holy water.
This was going to hurt.
“The spell for the Gate will require my life,” Thuridan said as I got down on my knees and pulled the pocketknife out of my boot.
I made an unamused sound. “Lucifer and his spells.”
Thuridan didn’t answer. His eyes were on my hands, which hovered just above the rope. I knew that every moment I hesitated, I was putting the others in danger. Our entire plan was to get in and get out as fast as we could. Well, here goes nothing, I thought.
And then I began cutting the rope.
The pain was immediate. It was like touching acid.
My skin began to heat, and within seconds, it was unbearable.
I gritted my teeth and reminded myself I’d heal, or we could contact Zara when this was done.
But the ropes were thick, and sawing at them with a small pocketknife was going to take time.
A shriek lodged in my throat. Distraction. I needed a distraction.
“How do you know all this? About the Gate, and the spell?” I asked Thuridan through my teeth. “The Dark Jackass isn’t the type to just … just volunteer information.”
My hands dropped and I bit back another scream. My arms trembled. Keep going, I told myself. People I loved were out there buying me time. Every second counted. Without letting myself think about it, I raised my hands back up and started cutting again.
“I saw it in a Telling,” Thuridan said abruptly.
He had been silent for so long I’d assumed he wasn’t going to answer.
My fingertips began to turn red again as he continued, “I’d been feeling anxious about the grand escape Peeks and I had planned, and I also didn’t want to leave Lyari.
I thought a glimpse of the future would absolve my fear.
Instead, I saw my death. I saw my blood spread across the grass, and I felt my soul depart from the broken flesh.
The witch performing the Telling said that a great power would find me and take my life.
It would be a creature of darkness, she said.
And from the moment I first spoke to you, I believed I’d finally met that creature. ”
“Gee, thanks,” I muttered. To my surprise, I felt a pang of sympathy for the asshole in front of me. He’d been used and lied to his entire life, only for the terrible fate of watching his lifeblood pour into a bowl.
Good thing we were here to change that.
A moment later, I was forced to drop my hands again. Pain screamed through my fingers. Distraction, I thought again. I looked down at my red, shaking hands and said, “Peeks was in the vision, wasn’t he?”
I lifted my head in time to see Thuridan’s face muscles twitch with surprise.
He nodded, the movement abrupt and jerky, as if the admission hurt him.
When he started talking, I found the strength to begin again on the ropes.
A hissing noise accompanied the waves of agony moving through my arms. It sounded like water hitting a hot pan.
“I saw his death before mine. He was kneeling beside me, looking defiant and terrified all at once. It was the same look he gave our father or the bullies who tormented us so. Stubborn little fool,” Thuridan added.
A soft, reluctant smile touched his lips.
The sight of Thuridan smiling was so strange that I caught myself staring at him. I quickly refocused on the cutting.
“You th-thought that by distancing yourself from him, you could separate your fates. Prevent his d-death,” I said. Thin tendrils of smoke had started rising from my raw fingers, as if I was moments away from catching fire.
Thuridan nodded, his gray eyes inscrutable as he watched me. “I asked Father to use whatever influence he had to get me stationed far away. As far as I could get from a Door or any chance of Peeks bridging the distance between us.”
The pain was unbearable. My brain short-circuited, desperate for me to stop. “Why werewolves?” I blurted.
Thuridan blinked. “What?”
“Why are you … why are you so afraid of werewolves?”
“I’m not—” Thuridan stopped, tight-lipped, his eyes flashing. “Because of my father.”
“Which one?” I asked through my teeth.
I could feel Thuridan’s gaze intensify. “You know?”
“I know.” One of the ropes finally broke apart, and I almost let out a sob of relief.
I leaned back, my hands falling limply to my lap.
I almost sobbed again when I realized I still had his other wrist to do.
But once again, I didn’t give myself a chance to think about it.
Steeling myself, I reached for the second rope—
A hand rested hesitantly on my wrist. “Let me,” Thuridan said.
I pulled away, relenting the knife to him. Thuridan started cutting, and in spite of his wounds, he moved with the speed of a faerie. His ruined fingers clenched the pocketknife so hard that even the burned skin turned white.
As he cut, he spoke. “As I reached maturity, Jassin began to suspect my powers had gone dormant. I hadn’t used them since Olorel died, not even when the other children beat the shit out of me.
One night Father took me to the surface, and we ventured deep into the forest. He held out a single knife and said that we were in werewolf territory, then sifted back to Court. It was a full moon.”
Thuridan ended there. He kept working, apparently finished with his dark story.
Or finished sharing it with me, at least. But considering that he’d still enlisted with the Guardians, even after Jassin’s little experiment, I could guess how it ended.
I studied the faerie’s stormy expression and wondered what caused Thuridan Sarwraek more pain—the memory of his father’s cruelty, or touching a rope drenched in holy water.
My mind went back to our first meeting. I’d been queen then.
In spite of what Jassin had done to him, Thuridan returned to the Unseelie Court to avenge his death.
I wanted to ask how he could be loyal to someone so monstrous, but I already knew the answer.
It was the same weakness everyone shared, whether you were human, angel, or Fallen.
Thinking of the evil creature that Thuridan had loved made me think of the other people he loved, as well.
“Peeks talked about you,” I said, surprising both of us. “I spent some time with him while I was being held at the Seelie Court, and he told me his side of the story. Maybe you should go see him before … before Olorel. It might be the last chance you get.”
Thuridan finished sawing at the frayed strands, and the remaining rope fell away. But he was looking at me, a puzzled frown hovering at the corners of his mouth. “You are an odd creature,” Thuridan declared.
“You’re welcome,” I said as he got to his feet. The faerie returned my knife and avoided touching anything else with his useless hands. I tucked it back in my boot, straightened, and said, “Come on, we need to find the others.”
“Why are you doing this?” Thuridan asked.
I’d started toward the tent flaps, but the question made me pause. “You know why.”
I didn’t say her name, but it floated between us. I saw something in Thuridan’s eyes soften, and he looked toward the tent flaps. He spoke as I turned again, his voice hesitant. “Is she—”
There was a cracking sound, and I spun around just in time to see Thuridan crumple at Oliver’s feet. His neck was bent at an unnatural angle. Just as panic began to blaze through me, I reminded myself that Thuridan was a faerie. He would heal.
A moment later, Oliver lifted his head and saw me. His eyes went wide with horror. “Fortuna? What are you doing here?”
“Stopping Lucifer,” I said. Desperation and urgency roared through my veins. “Help me, Ollie. Help us.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
I watched Oliver’s features twist in agony just before he bent over in a blur of motion.
He held his middle and released a sound so guttural, so terrifying, that I knew the monster was overcoming him.
He wrenched left and right, crashing to his knees.
There were more cracking sounds, as if all of his ribs were breaking one by one.
As I watched Oliver’s body tear itself apart, I saw how vulnerable he was.
Awareness made my heart quicken. Now was the time to end this, I thought.
I should attack Oliver while he couldn’t defend himself or heal as quickly.
Maybe it would actually take this time, if I truly believed it would.
I’d brought Lucifer and Oliver into this world because they’d felt so real to me.
Why shouldn’t I be able to use my power to undo them, too?
It occurred to me that someone had probably heard Oliver, and any second now, more demons could come streaming into the tent.
My brief window of opportunity was closing.
I knelt and plucked the pocketknife out of my boot again.
Oliver was still on his hands and knees.
I closed the space between us and stood over him, clutching it in my sweaty fist. Oliver didn’t even notice.
He shouted again as black veins began to spread through his entire back like cursed ivy.
I imagined bringing the knife down and plunging it into him.
I couldn’t do it. I just … couldn’t.
Feeling exploded my chest, but there was no time to think about it. A furious cry lodged in my throat as I spun away from Oliver and took a step toward Thuridan’s prone form, intending to drag him out of the tent while Oliver was still transforming.
But once again, I had waited too long.
Oliver’s shadow stood out starkly against the doors of the tent. I watched it stand upright, and this silhouette was bigger than my Ollie. Much bigger. I froze, remembering the horror in Nan’s voice after he’d attacked the Order. I’ve never seen anything like that creature. The speed of it.
The dark shape spread its wings wide again.
Dark feathers spread like fans on either side of the creature’s massive frame.
I felt a breath on the back of my neck. A tremor wracked me, and I could barely breathe past the terror.
This was Oliver, I told myself. Somewhere inside that hulking thing, there was still the boy I’d built sandcastles with.
Slowly, careful not to make any fast or threatening movements, I turned.
And then I was looking into the face of the Beast.
“Ollie,” I whispered. “You can—”
A rumbling sound vibrated through him, and his arm flew up.
Claws clamped around my throat so tightly that I choked.
The Beast turned, and then I was flying backward, my hair flying past my face.
My spine slammed into the wooden pole that Thuridan had been tied to, and I hit it so hard the air whooshed from my lungs.
A moment later, Oliver loomed over me. There was no recognition in his eyes as he bent and took hold of my throat again.
“Ollie,” I rasped, putting my hands over his.
That was all I could get out before his grip on my neck tightened.
Wheezing, I caught sight of a figure standing behind the creature.
The one that must’ve done something to force Oliver’s violent shift.
My gaze met Lucifer’s, and he looked back without any expression.
He stood there so casually, with his hands shoved in his pockets.
Why wasn’t he saying anything? Was I really such an insignificant threat to him?
My vision began to darken, and I knew I was moments away from losing consciousness.
Enough, I thought, reaching for my power. It responded instantly, and there was so much magic that my head swam. There was no time to wonder at this—I imbued my veins with it and slammed against Oliver’s psyche. It was a weak assault, but he was so startled that he opened his claws and dropped me.
I fell to my knees, coughing, and my power continued to gather around me like a storm.
I managed to push myself up, and I was about to release it in a maelstrom of terror and chaos when something came toward me in my peripheral vision.
I turned just in time to see a female close in, her hands outstretched.
She had black lips and slitted pupils. Her ears were pointed, like a faerie’s.
Before I could react, she cupped my face and kissed me. The second her lips made contact, a hot, blinding pain rushed through my entire body. I heard myself gasp. Just as the ground rose up, strong arms caught me. A familiar scent assailed my senses.
I couldn’t open my eyes, but moments before oblivion claimed me, I had enough strength left to whisper, “Let me go.”
“Never,” the devil murmured back.