Well that’s something new.And not what she’d been expecting.
The ušumgallu were the main generals who led his demonic army. Powerful beyond belief, they were the very things she and Mara, and the rest of the Deadmen, had been fighting against lo these many, many bloody months. Horrible beasts, one and all. It was what Thorn had resurrected them for—to keep the Malachai and his evil forces from taking over the world and swallowing it whole.
They were the blackest guard who wanted to enslave mankind and watch the world burn. Literally and figuratively.
“I don’t understand.”
“I lost my Šarru-Namuš.”Death King. The moment Adarian said the name, she saw a glimmer in his eye that said he hadn’t lost him so much as he’d probably either sacrificed said being …
Or brutally killed him or her. Probably for nothing more than breathing the same air. Adarian was, after all, the Malachai. Killing off his generals and replacing them with another poor unfortunate soul wasn’t unheard of. It was rather a blood sport of sorts for his kind, as they held no value for anyone, not even those who served them.
“And I can think of no better replacement than one such as yourself, given your need for vengeance upon this world for what it’s done to you.” Adarian lifted her chin so that she was staring up into his glowing, feral eyes. “Provided you bring me Nibo’s crook.”
There it was.
The rub that would get her killed if she was discovered, for that was the one thing Xuri would never part with. He’d gut her himself should she dare try to take his staff from him, as it held mystic powers she couldn’t even begin to fathom. She felt her stomach twist at the very thought of what Adarian asked.
And she wasn’t dumb enough to fall for it. “You’re the Malachai. Why not get it yourself, Lord of Infinite Powers?”
His eyes turned a vibrant red and his brow darkened as if he were about to hit her for her insolence. And he wouldn’t be the first to lay fist to her cheek. Her father had raised her on that tactic.
So, she braced herself for the impact.
But it didn’t come. Rather, he seemed to catch his temper at the last second, and took a deep breath.
To her even greater shock, he laughed and stepped away from her. His huge black wings expanded out from his back while he paced. They twitched to show his irritation. “It’s enchanted.Icannot remove the crook from his possession. Butyou… you can go in there and pull it out for me.”
She laughed out loud at the thought. Nibo’s crook that he wore as a small charm about his neck was deemed sacred. The one time she’d accidentally brushed it with her fingertips out of curiosity, he’d actually hissed at her and pulled back as if he were a cobra. His reaction had been so swift and instinctive that it’d scared them both.
To this day, she knew better than to go near it. Either when it was around his neck as a charm, or when he held it in his hand as a walking stick.
He would definitely kill me.
“Would he?” Adarian asked.
She gasped at the fact he’d heard her thoughts.
Stepping forward, he turned her around on the beach so that she faced a tall, intricately carved looking glass that rose up from the sand. Her eyes widened at the sight of her in her old body, dressed in the finest ball gown she’d ever seen. Tears shimmered in their dark depths because they were no longer that hateful demonic red caused by her unholy resurrection.
Her eyes were once again the dark brown of her human lifespan.
She reached up to touch the flesh of her cheek to make sure it was real skin.
It was. As was the dark auburn hair that she’d missed so much. Thick and soft tresses that twined about her fingers like silk, not horrid straw that crinkled and broke. For the first time in her life, she didn’t even mind the size of her nose, because it was hers and it was real. This was no illusion or dream.
She was human again.
Falling to her knees in the sand, she wept in relief, grateful beyond measure to feel the wetness on her cheeks and to endure the stuffy nose and swollen eyes that came with it.
Adarian watched her with a cold, calculated stare. “I want his crook and Thorn’s sword. Get them for me and I will ensure that you maintain this appearance you so covet.”
Damn him for knowing the one thing she’d betray the world for. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “And if I can’t get them?”
“You’re a beautiful woman, Valynda. There’s nothing you can’t get from a man if you set your mind to it.”
She hated him for that, as she’d never been the kind to use her looks or wiles that way. It wasn’t in her to be manipulative or to use another person for personal gain. She found it petty and cruel. Heartless. In truth, she’d always hated the attention her looks had caused. The distraction. The animosity and trouble. From the moment the other girls had realized that she turned male attention away from them toward her, her life had become hell. Especially because she’d been poor.
Whore. Gold digger. Tart. Slag. She’d been called every name imaginable.
