“Fossa,” he whispered, a shudder rocking his body.
I went to take his hand, but he jerked away. I pressed my fingers into my palm, the tips burning, as if I’d just shoved them into a live flame.
“Dante, what are these markings? Can you read them?”
“I can’t read the language, but I know where they came from.”
“From the Overseer?”
“No, not him,” he was breathing erratically, franticallykneading his chest with his knuckles, “From the Overseer’s witch. These are… witch markings.Bindingmarkings.”
An ache tore through my chest at that edge of hysteria in Dante’s voice. I’d never heard him this frantic, but I recognized that fear. That was how I felt every time I thought about drowning. The kind of terror that wasn’t logical.
This was the kind that left you mindless. Vulnerable.
“We’re going back to Venice and making a new plan,” I decided on the spot. “Coming here was a mistake. We have to…”
A low growl skated through the ruined stone. Not an animal. Not quite vampire.
We all went still.
“Get behind me, Ember. Movement to our right,” Nico breathed, drawing a knife with one hand, a gun in the other. “At least four targets, but it’s hard to be sure.” Black as night shadows spilled out around him, covering the ground, clearing the air around us.
Enough to see what was coming, and I couldn’t decide if that was good or bad.
I squeezed Dante’s arm, still frozen, hair obscuring his face. “We’re getting out of here, just stay close.” Ridiculous, given he was twice my size, but I wasn’t even sure he’d heard. He was digging his fist hard into his sternum, as if he was trying to force something out.
I didn’t know what to do, how to pull him out of this fog, and just as I met Gabriel’s eyes…
They emerged from the shadows like fears dredged up from my worst nightmare.
Vampires… except they weren’t.
Remnants of clothing flowed around them like the mists cloaking this island, pale and translucent, tattered endsfloating on an invisible breeze. I swallowed.Like the veils of the Underworld.
Their greyish-white skin was smooth as porcelain, broken only by some sort of wounds, as if they were knit together by a dark patchwork of seams. And their eyes… their eyes glowed like they were fueled by fire, burning so brightly, it leaked out of every opening.
“Have you ever seen anything like this before?” Gabriel hissed from the side of his mouth. I couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t control my heart rate, couldn’t fucking think around my horror.
“No,” Nico said, at the same time Dante grunted, “Yes.”
“Then now’s the time to start talking, brother.” Out of us all, Gabriel remained the most composed, body tensed in a low crouch, weapons ready. Even Nico was off his game, shocked at the four macabre things circling us.
Dante still wasn’t moving, and I shifted to my left, covering him.
“We called them the Ashbound. Legati alla Cenere,” he finally rasped in a voice so hoarse, I barely understood him. “Creatures born of fire. Made from vampires who died by burning, then resurrected through blood magic.”
I sucked in a shaky breath at his hollowed-out, echoing tone. At his almost catatonic state.
Heat poured off him now, hot enough to warm my cheek. Hot enough, I knew better than to touch him again.
“I don’t give a fuck what they are called. How do we kill them?” Gabriel hissed, palming his gun.
They were close enough to see that their white hair grew in uneven patches and to smell the putrid smoke they dragged behind them in a dark, reeking trail, and those scars… every single mark was outlined by the same fiery light.
My gaze drifted over my husband, the slight glow emanating from under his shirt.
“Drown them, unbind them, break them apart,” Dante intoned, shoulders shaking. “Burn them in the fire that birthed them. But kill the spirit, or they always will return.”
