Page 7

“How do we kill them?” Bram asks out loud, and I see his eyes glowing brightly as he struggles not to shift under the threat.

“You can’t.” She grins at him, madness in her eyes. I suppose most creatures would go insane down here, and it’s clear she is slightly crazy. I know captivity and what it does to one’s mind, and when she looks at me, I see the same haunted madness I find in my own eyes.

“Then how do we get through it?” Kitt snaps, losing his patience with her as he turns and glares.

She instantly sobers and steps closer to him. For a moment, desire flushes through him as he recalls her kiss before he pushes it away, but it’s too late. Nothing can be hidden in our bond. The only saving grace is that we never share what we see in each other with anyone else—not that we have anyone, but it’s the principal. What happens in the hive, stays in the hive.

Idly, he wonders if the mating bond is influencing his thoughts, but none of us can tell either.

“I think you mean to ask for my help, which is not done in that way, killer.” Her voice is deadly, almost burning like her flames.

We move as one, circling her so she’s in the middle, but she doesn’t look afraid, just stares at Kitt.

“How do we get through the killing field without dying, please?” he grits out, but we have been forced to do worse.

“You’ll see.” She smiles brightly and pats his cheek. “Good boy, killer. I like manners.”

We follow her, and when we pass under the entryway, we finally understand what she meant about the field. It’s a soulless area that stretches as far as the eye can see in either direction, though I do not spot any of the wraiths she spoke about. She’s silent and contemplative as she waits, allowing us to go first, then she falls into step at my side as we slowly cross the field. The soil is dry but sinks under our feet, so we walk faster.

A screech, the kind that makes your ears bleed, fills the air. I reach for my guns as we continue. More screeches echo around until we stop, waiting for the threat.

“Can I borrow this?” I jerk my head around as she sticks her hands into my holster, drawing my long, enchanted dagger. With a wicked grin at me, she brings it down across the back of my legs in a swift move then drops the dagger and slowly steps away as the others turn to me in shock. Torrin lunges for her, but she dances out of reach. It wasn’t a killing blow, since the mate bond wouldn’t have allowed it, but I notice she is suffering from the effects of fighting against it to hurt me.

I know why she chose me. She doesn’t know what I am, but judging by the weapons I’m holding, she assumed I was weak. My legs go out from under me, the tendons cut. Blood spills across the dirt, and ghostly hands rise from below, wrapping around me and dragging me into the soil as she winks, waves, and turns, skipping ahead.

I realise how she was planning to get through here—by sacrificing one of us. She doesn’t know it would destroy our minds if one of us went dark. She probably doesn’t even care. She wants us dead as badly as we want her to die, only she doesn’t care when or how. This is all a game to her, and she has nothing to lose.

I am used to others thinking I am the weakest in the group.

More hands claw at me, dragging me down into the soil. The others fight to free me, but their hands go through the wraiths as the soil seals above me, trapping me in complete darkness. It’s a good thing I don’t need to breathe, but I am tugged and torn, my clothes ripped as their claws carve my skin.

All too soon, the hissing wraiths freeze when they taste the blood she spilled. It’s black, dead sludge, and there is no life to feed on. She chose wrong.

Slowly, the hands retreat, no doubt giving up on me and targeting the others, so I tell them to run as I burst through the soil to see them sprinting across the field behind her. She’s fast, and soon, she’s out of sight. My legs heal enough for me to dart after them.

Ignored by the wraiths, I fix my clothes as well as I can and slide my dagger back into place. Quiet fury builds within me with each stride.

When I reach the other side, I duck under the exit tunnels and glance back. The wraiths’ hands are sticking from the ground, but they do not cross the barrier. Turning forward, I step into the chamber where the others wait. I find her leaning into a rock, smiling happily. “You made it⁠—”

Slamming her into the rock, I tighten my hold on her neck until she feels my strength. I lift her, watching as her face turns red then pales, but she doesn’t fight, just wears that maddening grin. “I die, you die, remember?”

“Can’t blame a girl for trying.” She coughs. “Besides, we made it through, didn’t we? And it confirms what I thought.”

“Which is?” I spit.

“You’re a ghoul.”

Shock fills our bond. No one has ever guessed what I am. It’s our saving grace, our ace in the hole for when things go bad.

Her smile only grows, and she taps my hand. “Mate bond.” She’s right. I feel it tugging at me, my soul roaring in horror at hurting my mate, even as my heart fills with hatred. With a snarl, I release her, and she doesn’t even cough, which infuriates me further. “How did you know what I was? Ghouls are rare.”

“But not extinct.” She shrugs. “You think you’re the only ghoul? I’ve met three down here. One wasn’t so nice. He was fully feral. The other two weren’t so bad if you ignored the whole eating people alive thing. It’s noticeable with your waxy skin, and add that to the fact that you don’t breathe and the scars, I had an idea. Now that you’re all safe, let’s go.”

We need to kill her soon before she kills us.

The agreement in our minds is instantaneous.

She knows too much.