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“I am half angel.” I swiped it out of his hands more abruptly than I’d intended and squeezed a small bit of the black fluid into the dropper, which I deposited onto my tongue. Within seconds, warmth shot through my veins, the familiar exhilaration bubbling up from the depths of my memories. Disgusted with myself, I shoved the dropper back into the bottle and stuffed it into my pocket.
The old man chuckled again. “And I’m the holy savior.”
Showing no amusement, I strode out of the room and back through the arena. Pure angels’ blood would’ve had me feeling energized, alert, essentially myself. Seraphica was mixed with a few other bedeviled ingredients, ones that had my stomach twisting, and the scene before me stretched far too wide, the fringes blurring out of focus.
The cool, nighttime air stole my breath as I exited the building, and as I passed an alley on my way back to Onyx, an unsettling sensation crawled over the back of my neck. I turned to see that I had stopped at the mouth of the alley and stared toward its dead end hidden by the shadows.
“Liar,”a distant voice echoed inside my head, and in that exact moment, I caught sight of a soft glow toward the center of the dark passage. With hesitation, I walked toward it, and came to an abrupt halt before a tiny Nightshade flower which had grown up through the cobblestones.
Screams hammered inside my skull. Then laughter. Vicious, mocking laughter.
I screwed my eyes shut, rubbing the ache at my temples, and in doing so, I invited the unbidden visual of a brunette lying beneath me, her face pale white. Eyes vacant. Shaking my head snapped me out of the memory, and I backed myself toward the alley’s entrance, pushing away memories I couldn’t stand to think about. The flower sat glowing, unmoving.
Silent.
* * *
Back at the cathedral, I strode down the hallway toward my chambers, and paused at Farryn’s ajar bedroom door. Through the crack, the room stood dark and still, but I could see her,senseher lying in bed. That sweet scent of vitality carried on the air, and I entered with quiet steps, coming to a stop alongside her bed. Whatever tension I’d felt before eased as I dragged a featherlight touch across her cheek, and long, black eyelashes, which rested against rosy cheeks, fluttered in dreams.
How utterly perfect humans looked while sleeping. Angelic.
Alive.
I wanted more than anything to climb into bed beside her and feel the life pulsing through her. To slip into a blissful slumber with her body pressed against mine, so perfect in my arms.
Without the violence and darkness that had consumed my head.
The small bit of seraphica wasn’t enough, though. As if my body had remembered the way I’d abused it all those years ago, the tonic wouldn’t be sufficient to keep me from hurting Farryn, as I’d hoped. I needed a guarantee that she and my child would be protected at all costs.
I would head out at first light for Vaszhago.
13
FARRYN
Save him, a detached voice whispered.
My eyes shot open, and on a gasped breath, I jolted upright, searching the dimly lit bedroom. The empty chair. The curtain, which hung motionless against the window, beyond which an overcast sky loomed. Movement drew my attention to the left of me, and I just caught the shadow of something disappearing beneath the armoire.
I kicked back, the headboard crashing into my spine.
At a knock on the door, I let out a scream.
“Miss Ravenshaw, are you all right?” Anya asked from the other side.
When staring at the bottom of the armoire showed no further movement, I cleared my throat. “Yes. I’m okay.”
“May I enter?”
“Sure.”
The door clicked and swung open, and Anya entered carrying a silver tray. Her face pinched to a frown as she crossed the room toward me, and she tipped her head while setting the tray on the adjacent nightstand. “What is it, dear? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Under the armoire. I saw something.”
Anya twisted toward the furniture and frowned harder. “Under that clunky thing?” She stepped toward it, but I reached out and grabbed her arm.
“No, wait! What if it’s … what if it’s …”
