“Send for me if I’m needed.” He backs away, seemingly happy to be out of Selene’s gaze.
I don’t blame him. “Stay close, just not too close.”
“Yes, my lord.” He disappears and closes the door as Selene opens the bottle and drinks the entire contents down.
I could swear I see something wriggling at the bottom of the glass, a shadowy creature with tendrils of night. But down it goes, too. She swallows, then lets out a belch that erupts from her in black fumes.
“I love magic.” Charen is mesmerized as his own darkness starts to ooze from him, his hands conjuring tiny dragons of pure shadow.
Selene pats her stomach. “Feeling better already.” Leaning closer to Grimelda, she says, “Time to wake, you old crone.” Her eyes snap shut, and her mouth begins to move in some incantation that I’ve never heard. The words run together, everything coming so fast that I can’t hear it. It turns into a wall of sound, a noise that contains more tones than just one voice. Selene reaches down and grabs hold of Grimelda’s narrow shoulders and digs in her claws. Only a faint hint of dust rises. There is no blood pumping through the poor witch’s veins.
Brock steps forward, instinctively shielding me from whatever dark magic is occurring. But I don’t need protection. Not anymore. The vengeance that burns inside me doesn’t need a shield. It needs a sword. And I intend to wield my own and grant no mercy to anyone who had a hand in taking my mate.
I will end the seekers. Every last one of them. “Butshe’sa seeker now,” my heart whispers. I ignore it. Surely, if Selene can bring Grimelda back from this deathly state, she can change Emma back to her true form. There has to be a way. I won’t stop until I find it.
Selene continues her ritual for long moments while I and my warriors watch. When she finally stops and leans back, I look to her with hopeful eyes.
“Can’t help her.” She frowns.
“What?” Pure sunlight flickers along my skin. “You lied.”
Lysetta cackles, her eyes hazed with madness. “Lies, that’s all you have.”
“No, my lord. No lie from me.” Selene turns. “This fool has tried to save herself by following the magic. She’s gone.” She reaches out and taps her knuckles on Grimelda’s forehead, sending up another plume of dust. “Not home. Gone. Probably dancing through the undead and carousing with unicorns. Using their horns for all manner of pleasure …” She lets the words fade as a slight smile touches her lips, as if she’s reliving a fond memory.
“Witch!” I summon the light of day into my palm, the burning orb ready to disintegrate the foul creature in front of me. “You broke our deal.”
“There’s nothing for it. We simply have to wait and see if the magic grants her safe passage back. If it does, my spell will take hold, and she’ll be revived. If not, my spell was for bollocks, and we’ll never have to deal with her sorry hide again.” She pats Grimelda, sending up more dust.
I grit my teeth and force myself not to burn the obsidian witch into splinters of flaming rock.
“See? All is well.” She shrugs then snaps her curious gaze back to my furious one. “So, can I still have the sisters?”
11
Emma
“Why are the towns around the Keep so empty?” I perch in a tall tree along the edge of Graven Ridge, the main city outside the Nightkeep.
“My father fears his subjects, more now than ever. It’s part of the curse I’ve wrapped around him.”
“Did Lex cast it?”
“Yes. She’s powerful, as you well know.”
I roll my shoulders, my wings bouncing with the movement. He’s right. Grimelda’s mother is powerful. I can still feel the ward she cast over me three days ago, the one that allows seekers to walk in the Daylands. I lick my lips at the thought. Killing Daylanders is high on my list of priorities. That realm has taken so much from me. My friends, my mother, my innocence—all of it stolen away by its vicious king.
“Why so murderous, my pet?” Eraldon reaches out and strokes my cheek.
“No reason.” I lean away from his touch. No matter how many times he tells me I’m to be his queen, I can’t seem to enjoy the feel of his skin on mine.
“Give it time.” He touches me anyway, his caress cold. “You’ll see that your rightful place is by my side and in my bed.”
“I’m ready to take the Keep.” I force myself not to wince away from him.
“Hungry?” He drops his hand and turns his feline eyes back to the dark mass of stone below us.
“Starving.” I can feel the lives in Graven Ridge, the mortality that flits around like effervescent moonlight. Tasting it will be a delight. But it’s not so easy. I reach out and rest my fingertips against the spell that keeps the town and the Keep warded against seekers. My skin sizzles, the burn running up my arm and to the base of my skull where it blisters and hisses.
