Bane stood at the threshold, and with each step he slowly stripped out of his glamour.
His face was whiter than bone, cheeks hollow with the indents of his teeth visible against paper-thin pale lips. Dark, shoulder-length hair draped around his shoulders, the same obsidian shade as his too large eyes. His nose had sunken, leaving a slight crater that only emphasised cheekbones so sharp they could cut.
His form rippled, ethereal and then corporal as he cocked his head, his attention on Frederick. His voice was deeper when he spoke, harsher as if screams echoed in every word. “You’re arrogance is your own downfall.”
Frederick wheezed in a breath. “What is this?”
Dirk bared his teeth, his growl vibrating against her back. “Prick of the many useless titles. You really shouldn’t have given away your hand so easily.” His arm tightened around Kyra, his long nails moving to cup her breasts. “Our summoning names can never be removed, they’re part of the deal when we ascend to our new power. You’re either ignorant, or just fucking stupid to believe you could trick me.”
Bane drifted forward, and Frederick shrunk back, not knowing who was more dangerous in that moment.
“Dirk and I have come to an agreement,” Bane said with an eerie calmness. “He gets the witch who has the power to help him, and I get to go home.”
“Look, look, it’s impossible,” Frederick stuttered. “The doorways have all been sealed to Far Side. There’s no way through, otherwise the Fae would have found it already.”
“A year, that’s how long I’ve waited for you to help. Well over a year since the veil that separates our realms has been fortified.”
Frederick’s face tightened, lines appearing around his thinned lips. “It’s impossible. The Light and Dark Courts themselves have shut it down, you know this to be true.”
“Not all of them, the original doorway floats across this godforsaken realm.”
Frederick dropped his fingers to the wood beneath him, his fingers coated in red. “It's supposedly untraceable, a rumour that Liliannia herself has never confirmed!”
“Dirk and his kin have been trapped in that prison for several millennia. Now he is free to pass between here and The Nether as he pleases, through the veil. If anybody is able to help me get back to Far Side, it is them.”
Frederick’s eyes widened, a strangled sound coming from his throat. “You know who I am!” his voice snapped with an underlying current. “You can’t do this!”
“Years I have served you, and everything you say is lies. It makes you weak, worthless to me.” Bane hit out, and Frederick’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. Kyra ignored the crack he made when he hit the floor.
Arms tightened around her, and it took everything in her not to panic. She squeezed her eyes closed, concentrating on breathing, on not passing out as her lungs filled with cement and dread tightened her muscles.
“Kyra,” Bane whispered, closer than before. “You’re not going to be a problem, are you?”
His fingers were like ice, a bitter sting against her skin. Those same fingers, longer, slimmer than they were only moments ago were iron around her wrist.
“Kyra?” he asked more forcefully.
She opened her eyes then, meeting ones of pure obsidian. She remained silent, the only bit of control she had left as smoke teased her ankles. Bane smiled, revealing a row of sharp, pointy teeth. He looked exactly what she expected Death to look like.
“Think of the power you’re going to learn. I’m so proud, you were born for this.”
Chapter28
Kyra
Kyra knew she wasn’t alone, but kept her breathing slow, as if she were still in sleep. The bed beneath her was rock hard, the sheets rough against her palms. Her jeans uncomfortably clung to every curve and angle, dried blood flaking off with every subtle movement.
Bruises decorated her ribs, as well as down both her arms as she had fought with all her strength. Which admittedly wasn’t much compared to the wraiths that had visited her room. Her nails dug into the sheets involuntarily as she thought about the shadows who had watched her for years, who were probably in the room at that exact moment, concealed.
Dark laughter from the corner.
Kyra blinked open her eyes, the familiar cracked artex ceiling greeting her. Panic began to swell, but she was able to swallow the reaction as she slowly sat up, her eyes drifting past Dirk who leaned in the corner to sweep across the room.
A single bed and a locked door. No window, because it had been boarded up with thick planks of wood and enforced with metal lattices. The walls were cold, damp to touch with mould growing in all corners. The floral paper had peeled on almost every wall, revealing worn plaster beneath and the carpet was threadbare. Something must have once adorned the walls, maybe shelves or a large painting, the holes left torn open without thought or care to the aesthetic.
“You going to co-operate today?” Dirk continued his chuckle, his smile teasing enough she knew he wanted her to resist. To fight back. “Or am I going to have to be forceful… again?”
Kyra remained silent, knowing it pissed him off.
