Chapter Twenty-One
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
The blood was hot against Aurelie’s skin. She staggered back, clutching the alchemist’s chest in one hand as the other pressed against her side. Her trembling fingers came away wet with blood.
“Hello, little Chantelune.” The hideous greedborn she’d insulted earlier now loomed before her, claws glinting in the moonlight.
His teeth were the color of old parchment, blackened at the edges. Rot clung to his breath, and yet he smiled as he tasted the blood on his fingers, dragging his tongue over the curved edges of his claws.
Aurelie’s vision blurred as she gripped her blade tighter. Her gaze swept the trees for aid, but all she saw were the glowing eyes of vespers delighted by the danger, their crescent grins beaming down on her.
The demon lunged, his claws closing around her throat. She snarled, trying to summon Glory into her blade, but the light only flickered. Soon, a second demon caught her arm and wrenched it back. The alchemist’s chest tumbled to the ground, forgotten, as they dragged her through the tavern doors.
All sounds of laughter and music died as the beasts tossed her inside.
Demons watched from over the rims of their tankards, Mari keeping her gaze pointedly on the floor as the greedborn grabbed hold of Aurelie’s hood and tore it back.
Her hair spilled free, earning a wave of protest and sharp hissing.
“This girl is a Chantelune,” one of her captors announced. His claws bit into her arm, drawing fresh blood. “Her family slaughtered our kind. It’s only fair we return the favor.”
Their bloodlust pressed in on her, but it was tempered by hesitation. A ripple of uncertainty that made several of the demons turn away.
“Are you truly so afraid of Severin?” The greedborn sneered. “Look at the filth he’s brought into our village. This girl reeks of angel!”
Still, no one moved from their seats. A few flattened their ears, turning back to their drinks.
“You heard what he said,” muttered a green-skinned envyborn from a nearby table. “The girl belongs to him.”
Aurelie swallowed her retort, wincing as she was shoved farther forward.
“And what do you suppose he’ll do when I kill her?” The demon’s foul breath was hot against her cheek. “He’ll be dead.”
“And where will we be then?” challenged another demon. “Out of work and out of money.”
The greedborn’s grip tightened as several others murmured their agreement.
“But Rhovar will be down a Chantelune,” a sharp voice encouraged. “Without the angels, we can destroy them. Take over the kingdom. We can be done hiding.”
“Sure, until the angels retaliate. We’re not hiding from the humans, we’re hiding from them.”
Aurelie’s breath quickened, a chill creeping into her bones. Where are you, Severin?
She steadied herself, training taking hold. She had no intention of standing around and letting them decide her fate.
She reeled on the greedborn still holding her, dagger slashing.
Stay standing, she told herself. Stay alive. Severin would feel her injuries. He’d come to help.
She just needed to last until then.
The demon’s hide was thick, but his joints, his belly—those would be weak points. If she could summon Glory, a single strike would be enough.
And yet try as she might, Glory remained out of her reach.
Her body thrummed as she searched for the magic, and she could almost see a faint glow of light emitting from the blade. Yet when she focused on bringing that Glory out, it shied away from her, the glow fading.
Was she too far from Yuri? Was their bond too weak?
The demon towered over her, but Aurelie held firm, blood soaking her side.
She lunged again, dagger slicing through the air, and though the other demons never left their seats, they made each step harder.
Ale spilled from their mugs, slickening the floor beneath her boots.
Tails lashed out, trying to trip her. One managed, and another snapped down across her knuckles, knocking the blade from her grip.
It skittered across the floor, and several feet stretched to kick it farther from reach.
She cursed, but the greedborn was already upon her.
His claws swept down, yet while he was moving no slower than any other opponent she’d fought, it was as if Aurelie could suddenly see a delay in his movements.
A shift in the miasma that gave away what he was going to do a second before it happened.
She rolled back just in time, boots slamming into his chest and sending him stumbling.
She was on her feet before he recovered, vision swaying as she searched for a weapon. Her dagger was gone, but she didn’t need steel to win this. There was always another way.
Propped near the stage sat a harp. Her stomach churned at the thought, but there was no time to hesitate. She seized it. “Die, you wretched beast,” Aurelie snarled, bringing the instrument down hard against her knee.
A sharp, discordant note shrieked through the tavern as the harp splintered, leaving a jagged length of wood clutched in her hand. She braced to strike with it, but before she could, the demon crashed to the floor, woundless.
“Claude!” A human tore through the crowd, trembling as he fell to his knees beside the demon.
The greedborn’s claws dug into the floor, body spasming as blood bubbled up from his throat.
For a moment, Aurelie thought the human was trying to help him, only to realize that he was mirroring Claude’s movements.
Aurelie was seized by horror when the man’s body convulsed in unison with the demon’s, a dark trail of blood bubbling from his lips and sliding down his chin. When Claude took his final breath, so did he.
Bile rose in her throat.
Everything happened quickly after that. The floor felt as if it’d been turned to water beneath her. The tavern blurred, and every sound became muffled beneath the pounding of her heartbeat.
Another demon rushed forward, her face carved with anguish as streaks of black tears trailed down her cheeks.
Aurelie hadn’t realized how close this greedborn was until the first blow landed.
Pain exploded across her temple, bright and dizzying.
She hit the floor hard, the breath knocked from her lungs.
Through the haze, she saw claws descending.
Move. You have to move.
She willed her body to listen, but her muscles betrayed her. It was all she could do to brace for the strike that never came.
A hand clamped around the demon’s wrist mid-swing. Claws dug into flesh, and the attacker barely had time to snarl before she was wrenched back.
Severin stood over Aurelie, his fury barely leashed.
All she could feel was fire. It roared through her chest, clawing up her throat and burning behind her eyes until they stung. Before Aurelie could speak, Severin’s fingers tangled in her hair, yanking her head up. Rage shadowed every inch of his face, tight with restraint.
Were they not bonded, she knew this man would kill her, and that there’d be nothing she could do to stop him.
“Have you lost your damned mind?”
Aurelie shivered as his words carved through her, eerily quiet.
“He came after me first. I didn’t even strike—” Her words cut off, as did all sound but for the beating of her own heart.
Thump. The sound grew louder by the second. Thump thump. She clamped a hand over her chest, trying to still it. It was too loud, too fast—
“Spill the blood of my people again, and I swear that I will find a way to bleed you dry.” Severin’s voice was a whisper in her ear, though he was standing back to his full height now, eyes a simmering crimson.
She heard a pop before the rest of the sound came crashing back in, and Aurelie doubled over, spitting out blood as something within her snapped.
Her face whipped upward to Severin, who wiped a line of blood from his own lips, still scowling.
“She’s slain one of ours, and yet you protect her?” the greedborn spat.
“She’s my bonded,” he said dryly. “I warned you what would happen if she was attacked.”
The greedborn snarled, lunging again at Aurelie. She didn’t get far.
Severin’s claws struck out in a single, brutal arc that sliced through the demon’s neck as if it were air. Blood sprayed across his bare chest and painted the tavern floor black as the greedborn crumpled at his feet, beheaded.
Silence descended as the remaining demons froze, their snarls dying in their throats. All eyes turned to Severin, whose feathered black wings stretched wide behind him. Blood streaked his skin and feathers, dripping from his claws.
“Why did no one help her?” His gaze swept across the gathered crowd. “Was my warning not clear enough?”
The weight of his anger pressed down like a storm. The demons shifted, some glancing toward the fallen body, others averting their eyes entirely. No one dared breathe.
“Return to your homes,” he hissed, finally settling his attention on Aurelie. “Get up. You’re not dying here.”
Severin’s hands slid beneath her, hauling her upright.
The jolt sent fresh agony through her side, and she bit back a cry, clutching weakly at his arm.
Aurelie’s head lolled against his bare chest, craving the warmth of his skin against her clammy cheek.
Her world was swaying, darkening at the edges, and she was only vaguely aware of how much blood she wore.
Sticky. She felt so, so sticky. And when had it gotten so cold?
“Stay awake,” Severin growled. “Don’t make me regret this, knightling.”
“You made me bleed,” she said, surprised at the weakness of her own voice.
“What choice did I have? Things would have been worse for you if I didn’t.”
Their bond thrummed faintly, an echo of her faltering heartbeat. She could feel it in him, too. The way his strength faltered momentarily as if the bond was draining his energy, pulling him down alongside her.
“Lute.” He spoke the name quietly. “She’s fading. If I go down, I’ll need you to take over.”
Lute hissed. “Then don’t go down. I told you this was a bad idea.”
“That’s what you have to say to me right now? ‘I told you so’?”