Shadow Eater, page 21
part #2 of Shadowlands Series
The spade on my left arm throbbed in time to my pulse. My core ached for release and I squeezed and squeezed.
Screams, glorious screams.
All food, all substance, and then I was drinking him up like nectar through a straw.
The guard fell to the ground and my Shadow shield slammed back into me with a delicious rush and a sharp high. I threw back my head and revelled in wave after wave of pleasure that lit up every nerve and synapse.
I could never get enough of this. Never.
“Ash!”
I dropped my chin and addressed the room. “I think that concludes these proceedings, don’t you?” I turned on my heel and headed for the exit.
I got as far as the lift before my legs gave way, and remained conscious long enough to see the floor rising up to meet me.
ASH
“She’s coming to.” Avery’s voice filtered through the fog in my mind.
“Give her some room.” That was Daemon. I’d recognise his honey over gravel tone anywhere.
“And how do I do that while applying the poultice?” Viola huffed.
A low growl drowned her out.
“Daemon...” Avery’s voice was a warning.
I peeled open my eyes and peered around me. I was in my bed, in my chambers, surrounded by Shadowlanders. Viola was seated on the left side of my bed, my spade-marked arm resting in her lap as she applied the yellow gunk to it. Avery’s scarf lay scrunched on the bed beside her.
Viola finished applying the gunk, then used Avery’s scarf to wrap it tight. The stuff was warm and comforting, but I hoped it did more than heat my arm. Viola hopped off the bed and headed for the door.
“Wait!” Avery said. “We still need to discuss how Ashling came to escape from her chambers.”
Viola paused mid-step, her shoulders tensing.
I pulled myself up against my pillows. “Isn’t it obvious? I overpowered her.”
Avery gave me a squinty-eyed look and then exhaled. I got the impression there was no way he believed that, but was deciding to go with it regardless. “You may leave Viola.”
Viola covered the distance between bed and door in double-quick time and left without a backward glance.
I held up my arm. “How long will this take to work?”
“Two moons.”
Moons! I glanced across at Daemon. “What are you doing here? It’s the full moon tomorrow. Shouldn’t you be... getting ready?”
Daemon shared a glance with Avery and something I didn’t understand passed between them.
“What?” I hated it when I was left out of the loop. “What aren’t you telling me?” Oh, Mother! Had they bound me while I was sleeping? Did I have a master I didn’t know about? Fuck! I’d sucked the life out of a guard! I’d killed a person, okay, a Shadowlander, but still a living, breathing being—and I’d enjoyed it. I could still taste the power.
My chest grew tight.
I was a monster, a freak.
I couldn’t breathe.
Warm hands squeezed my shoulders. “Breathe, dammit! Breathe.”
I couldn’t. I just couldn’t, and the world was getting darker at the edges...
A sharp sting on my cheek brought tears to my eyes. I gasped, sucking in air, my chest burning with relief. And then realisation hit me.
I blinked into Daemon’s concerned eyes, before turning on Avery with a snarl. “You slapped me!”
“You were having a panic attack.”
“So you slapped me?”
Avery shrugged. “It worked.”
Daemon’s fingers dug into my flesh. “Look at your arm.”
“What?”
He released me and I looked at my right arm for the first time. It was clear and smooth and unmarred. The inky patterns, all of them, were gone. “What the heck?” I met Daemon’s eyes. “Did you... while I was unconscious?!”
He released me, his expression shuttering, and I felt like a dick for thinking it.
“The mark did it,” Avery said from his position by the left side of the bed. “The Prince is feeding on your darkness through the mark.”
“We can fix this. The poultice will help,” Daemon said.
I leaned into Daemon, needing his strength, his comfort. Daemon’s nostrils flared, his gaze cleared, and he slipped off the bed and took a step back, breathing heavily through his nose. “Avery...”
Avery moved to stand between Daemon and I. “Go. I’ll deal with this. I promise I’ll keep her safe.”
“You almost lost her.”
“Almost, but not quite.”
I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I had a way to rectify that. “Hey! Stop it. I hate it when you do this. What the hell is going on?”
Daemon glanced at me, his eyes flashing silver. “I need to go and prepare. Avery will explain.”
Then he was gone, leaving so quickly I barely had time to blink.
Avery stood with his back to me for a long beat and then turned to face me. “Do you mind if I sit?” He indicated the bed.
I shook my head.
Avery took a seat on the right side of my bed. “What you did today, it was extremely dangerous, some might even say foolish.” I opened my mouth to argue but he held up his hand. “It was also incredibly brave.”
Okay, now that was a turn for the books.
Avery smiled. “The Fates are volatile, unpredictable. When you walked into the summit today I thought for sure they would smite you there and then. You were incredibly lucky that they allowed you to speak long enough to... to show them the true extent of your power.” He bowed his head. “Did you know you could do that?”
I didn’t need to ask what he was talking about. The guard’s face, twisted in agony as I drained him dry, came to mind. “No. No I didn’t.”
Avery looked up. “Just as we thought. It isn’t a Dream Eater skill, Ashling. What you did is unheard of, and I’m certain now that it may be connected to the mark on your left arm.”
“The Prince’s mark.”
“Yes. The absence of ink on your right arm suggests he is feeding off the Shadows you consume, using you as a conduit of power. We have no idea what he intends to use that power for, except to know it won’t be for anything good.”
“But I thought you said the wards would stop him from getting to me.”
“I guess I understated the strength of the enchantment. For sure he won’t be able to compel you to feed, the urgency, the craving won’t be there, but it is evident that you have use of the mark’s ability, and that he has access to anything you do decide to consume using it.”
“But the poultice will remove it, right?” I wasn’t afraid. I refused to be afraid.
“We hope so.”
“Okay, so if it doesn’t, then what?” Every Shadow I consumed would give the Prince power, and if I left the wards of Apocalypse then I would be consumed with the compulsion to feed... feed. Oh, Mother, I was a beast, a depraved beast. I covered my face with my hands. “I need to be in control of this thing, Avery. I can’t let it take the lead.”
The idea of being slave to desire, an addict with no reprieve, was repulsive, and abhorrent and as inherently frightening as the idea of being slave to a master. The mark’s gift may have helped me escape the Fates and their plan, but I’d simply escaped one set of shackles for another.
“If it doesn’t work, please tell me you have a plan.”
A shadow passed over Avery’s features. “We have a plan.”
“Tell me.”
“We use Daemon. You can still consume Shadows, but Daemon will filter them from your system, leaving nothing for the Prince. If unfed, the mark should shrink, and his hold on you should fade away.”
Should, should, could, would. Fucking morons know nothing!
Please be quiet. I’m thinking.
It was a good plan, except for one thing. “Daemon won’t do it. I don’t know if he told you, but ever since our time together in the Infernan dungeons, when he fed on the darkness inside me, I’ve had this hold on him and—”
“I know, but this was Daemon’s idea.”
I think my mouth may have hit the bed, but I was pretty proud of my quick recovery. “Really? Well, in that case, um, good. I mean, I’ll have to thank him.”
It didn’t make sense. He hated the way I made him feel, the hold I had on him. In fact, I felt a little icky about earlier, how I’d seduced him, and compelled him to get all horny. It wasn’t right. I knew that he used his incubus side to give his girls pleasure and get them off, but they chose to be there in the first place, they knew what they were signing up for. Daemon had told me clearly how he felt about my hold on him, and yet I’d used it against him in the underground motorbike park less than a couple of days after his confession. So, the question remained...
“Why? Why would he do that?”
Once again that shadow skimmed across his face. “For the greater good, of course. We need your ability, and so he will do what he must to ensure you are able to use it without detrimental consequences.”
“Like the big bad getting his mitts on some yummy darkness.”
Avery’s brows snapped together.
I sighed. “Never mind.” His explanation made sense, but didn’t sit true with me. They could always lock me up until the mark shrivelled and died. They’d gone this long without a Shadow Eater, what did it matter if they had to wait another week or two, or however long it would take for the mark to die? Wasn’t allowing me to work even more dangerous? I gnawed on my lip, considering whether I should offer this option. What would be the odds that they hadn’t already thought of it?
“Not viable.”
“Huh?” I hated that he could read me without actually, you know, reading me.
Avery pinned me with those bluer than blue eyes of his that looked into my soul. “The summit expects results. You didn’t think your little display would get you off the hook completely, did you?”
“Actually, I kinda had.”
He blinked slowly at me as if a veil had just lifted to reveal I was a moron. He cleared his throat. “Well, you were mistaken. It has made them wary, but they are watching, and if they discover your power was only due to the mark then they will strike. We need to keep it business as usual. You consume Shadows, and Daemon feeds off the darkness before the Prince can filter them from you.”
Viola’s words came back to me, the ones about how the Shadows were mine, how they would protect me and they had. They’d shielded me. It had been the mark that had made them drain the guard.
The mark had to go.
The Shadows were mine.
Your Shadows are yours. Share them with Daemon for now, simply because you must, but once the mark has gone they will be all yours once again.
I met Avery’s eyes. “Let’s hope this poultice works.”
ASH
“... and then Cal was like, it’s not as hard as rock!” Freya giggled.
I blinked and dropped back into the conversation with a smile I hoped was well timed.
Freya shook her head. “You weren’t listening to a word I said, were you?”
I opened my mouth to lie, snapped it closed, and winced. “Sorry.”
“Almost getting your ass bid on doesn’t give you the right to space out while your best friend in the whole of the Shadowlands is talking, you know. Oh, who am I kidding, it totally does.” She flopped down on the bed beside me. “Seriously, hun. You were so lucky.”
“That word again. Lucky. Why does everyone keep using it as if I haven’t the skill or wit or fortitude to get myself out of a difficult situation? Viola wished me luck, then Reamus, now you’re going on about being lucky.” I turned my head on my pillow to face her and found her staring at me, wide-eyed. “What?”
Freya scrambled up onto her knees. “Reamus wished you luck?”
I nodded. “Yeah, so?”
Freya caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “Reamus is a Lepre.”
I gave her my ‘so what’ glare.
“Lepres are the descendants of leprechauns, creatures who were renowned for their ability to bestow the blessing of luck on anyone that traps and coerces them to do so.”
“I didn’t coerce anyone to do anything.”
Except Daemon.
Shut up!
Freya bounced up and down on my bed. “No, but he blessed you anyway! Oh shit, this is huge!”
Now I was intrigued. I sat up. “How?”
“It means you are lucky, until it wears off of course, but wow, this is awesome. For you.”
I held up my arm, the one with the poultice. “Well maybe with some luck this damned mark will come off.” I know I sounded sarcastic, but it was only to disguise the spark of crazy hope in my chest. Was it luck that had made Daemon agree to help me too? It didn’t matter. If luck was on my side I may not need his help after all. If luck had been on my side, maybe I would have found Clay alive.
Freya must have seen the shift in my emotions because she shuffled close and wrapped me in a hug. “I’m so sorry, Ash. Really, I am.”
Funny how a simple hug can pull down that emotional dam you’ve spent ages putting up. I leaned into her, wrapped my arms around her and let the tears flow. I’d thought I was all cried out, but I guess there weren’t enough tears in the world for that. Not when it came to Clay.
“I need to do this for him. I need to make him proud of me.”
“I know.”
I smiled into her shoulder. “Thanks for being here. I’m sorry about before, about asking you to betray Cal.”
“It’s okay. I understand why you did it. I get it.”
We pulled apart and I swiped at my wet face. “Shit, I’m a mess.”
“Get some sleep. Not long left now, and we can see if the poultice worked.”
I nodded and crawled under the covers. I was tired, had been ever since I’d woken up earlier. I guess absorbing a whole person and then getting all your mojo sucked out by a disembodied evil Shadowlander was enough to exhaust the best of us.
I needed the mark gone.
I had a handful of hours until I knew for sure.
An errant thought crossed my mind before I slipped into sleep. I could use the mark’s ability inside the wards if I wished, and the Prince could consume the darkness I absorbed, but he couldn’t make me crazy with need, he couldn’t turn me into an addict or make me leave and feed on Shadows so, and here was that errant thought, that meant that my desire, my craving for the guard’s essence, had been my own.
I wasn’t left in peace, not even in my dreams. As I sat on my rapidly deteriorating beach haven, I felt his presence at my back.
“Go away,” I said.
“I wish I could,” he replied.
I glanced over my shoulder at him and ended up staring. He looked... different. Dressed in what looked like denim and a cotton shirt, open at the collar, his hair a tousled mess, Mephisto looked softer, more human.
“May I sit with you?”
I sighed and nodded. “Knock yourself out.”
He joined me on the sand, stretching his legs out in front of him. I noted that his feet were bare. He had nice feet.
“So what’s new?”
He looked down at himself. “This ensemble.”
“It suits you.”
“Thank you. And thank you for choosing it for me.”
“What?”
He gave me a wry smile. “Your dream, your rules.”
I glanced down at my arm, wrapped in Avery’s scarf. “Not always. Last time was horrible.”
“You were confused, adjusting, and he followed you in,” Mephisto said.
“Who is the Prince?” I asked.
“A banished soul. One desperate to crawl out of the pit he’s been thrown into, desperate to finish what he began a long time ago, and you, my delectable delight, are the perfect key for him to achieve his goal.” He reached over to run a finger over the scarf, sending a tingle up my arm, despite the fact that he’d made no actual contact with my skin. “This must go or we are all doomed.” He raised his cerulean eyes to meet mine. Gorgeous, deep, magnetic... I blinked and pulled away. He chuckled. “You are something else Ash, and when you’re ready, I’d like to remind you just who you are.”
“Remind me?”
“Time to go.” He looked back at me, then down to my arm, his lips turned down. “It will be a hard road.” He jumped to his feet, dusted off his clothes, and winked. “See you on the other side.” He turned and walked away.
“Hey! Wait! What did you mean by remind me? What the...”
The beach began to fade and a persistent knocking filled the void.
The knocking followed me into reality, but it took me a few seconds to realise that there was someone at my door. I pulled back the covers and climbed out of bed. The exhaustion was gone and I could shelve the invalid.
I opened the door to thin air.
“Good to see you back on your feet.”
I looked down to see Viola with a basket containing a flannel and a tub of white goo. I stepped back to let her in and closed the door.
“Come on, let’s take a look.”
I glanced down at my arm. Was it time already? Eager to get this over with and be free, I perched myself on the stool at my dresser and held out my arm. Viola set the basket at her feet and carefully unwrapped the scarf from around my arm. The poultice was dried and yellow and caked to my skin.
“With some luck this would have worked,” Viola said with a twinkle.
Obviously she’d know what her husband had done for me.
Viola unscrewed the jar of white stuff in her basket and dipped a corner of the flannel into it before wiping it across my skin. The yellow caked poultice disintegrated at its touch leaving behind… Fuck!
Viola exhaled, shook her head, and continued to remove the poultice.
I stared at the mark through burning eyes. “There has to be something else we can do.”
The door joining Avery’s room to mine clicked open. “We move to plan B.”
Daemon was plan B. Suddenly, I was overcome with the need to speak with him, to tell him how much this meant to me, regardless of his motives, and to promise him that I would never take advantage of him.
