But she had Singer, and for that she was grateful. The dog was as much a friend to her as Dallas and Sabrine, and sometimes she felt like Singer could understand her—could comprehend the secrets she told no one but him. The secrets she guarded with her life, even from Dallas.
As they waited for Darien’s Familiar to return, a cold wind swept through the graveyard. The temperature was unnaturally cold for Angelthene, and Loren knew she wasn’t the first or only person who noticed it, as they all turned around to find a dozen cloaked and hungry spirits descending upon them.
13
Darien yanked Loren behind him so quickly, she almost fell.
The wights—ghostly skeletons cloaked in dark, tattered robes—encircled their group, the swiftness of their movements creating a vortex of wind so cold the rain froze to hail.
Three whistles cut through the air. Snarling as they were called forth from within their shadows, sprang Tanner, Max, and Jack’s Familiars—a wolf, a mountain lion, and a jaguar respectively. The spirits took up their places equidistant apart, standing between the Darkslayers—and Loren—and the wights.
Covering her ears against the withered voices slithering into her mind, Loren shouted at the Devils toshoot. None of them had taken aim with the weapons in their hands; they were merely crouched in defensive positions in a circle, their backs to each other with Loren in the centre, refusing to take their eyes off the wights.
It took everything Loren had not to demand to know when they’d all lost their minds.
“Bullets don’t do shit against barrow wights, sweetheart!” Jack’s shout was nearly drowned out by the vortex. Despite the danger they were in, he seemed to be enjoying this, a hint of that cocky smile in his voice.
Dead leaves, soft overturned earth, and bits of frozen rain spun around them so rapidly, Loren swore her feet would lift off the ground. The vortex began to pull at their bodies. At…at theirauras,she realized. The wights weretastingthem.
The Familiars gave snarls of warning and leapt forward. The wights reared back, the swift pace of the vortex stumbling, though only slightly.
On the opposite side of their circle, Tanner called, “Benjamin’s really taking his sweet-ass time, Dare.”
As if someone heard him, the door to the tomb groaned open. The slayers barely took their eyes off the wights as a tall, thin figure appeared in the doorway. Before him stood Darien’s Familiar; at the sight of the wights, the dog sprinted forward and came to a stop just before Darien’s boots, joining rank with the other Familiars who immediately adjusted their positions, working as a single unit to accommodate their fellow soldier—theirleader. Just as Darien led the Seven Devils.
“Benjamin,” Darien shouted over the wind, dipping his chin in the direction of the shaggy-haired man who was watching them with mild amusement.
“Darien Cassel,” Benjamin drawled. “It’s been a long time. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.” He appraised the wights. “Though I think it’s safe to assume that what youdidforgot was my request not to drop in uninvited.”
Darien smirked, despite the wights licking at the wisps of his aura. “I have some questions for you. Call off your pets—we’ve had enough of your games for today.”
From this distance, Benjamin’s smile was hard to see beneath his pale, unshaven face, though his eyes danced with amusement as he surveyed the cloaked skeletons floating around them. “But my dears were having so much fun,” he murmured, almost to himself.
Benjamin clapped his hands once.
The vortex ceased, the hair that was spiralling around Loren’s face falling to her shoulders in tangles. The slayers relaxed their defensive positions, their Familiars doing the same.
Benjamin inclined his head in a gesture for them to follow him into the tomb. “Come, come.” His gaze became curious as it slid to where Loren stood behind Darien. His smile widened into a grin, nostrils flaring. “It seems we have a great deal to catch up on.”
—
“The girl will come with me,” Darien told Benjamin. “The others will wait outside.”
“Always so careful,” Benjamin crooned. “You wound me, Darien.” But he merely smiled and strode into the firelit mouth of the tomb, footfall slapping against the walls.
The other three slayers didn’t question Darien as he stalked into the tomb. With a deep breath, Loren stamped out her fear and followed behind him. It was somewhat of a reassurance when his Familiar kept pace beside her, the muscles in its powerful side mere inches from her leg.
The air inside the tomb was humid and smelled of wet earth. As the door slowly groaned shut behind them, Max made a clicking sound with his tongue. A mere second before the door slammed shut to seal them in the tomb, Max’s lion bounded to Darien’s side. Darien’s Familiar nipped playfully at the cat’s whiskered cheek, and the two led the way to the tunnel where Benjamin had vanished.
“No matter what he asks you,” Darien said quietly to Loren as they walked, the torchlight gilding his strong jaw, “letmedo the talking.”
“Scarlet Star forbid I say something wrong,” she muttered.
Darien’s voice became a harsh whisper. “Scarlet Star forbid you say something that will lead to you lying dead on the floor.”
Loren bristled. “You don’t have to be so blunt.”
“And you don’t have to question everything that I say or do. Since you seem to have already forgotten, allow me to remind you that I’m trying tohelpyou.”
