Storm of the Seven Sins, page 12
The Executor made me to be his weapon. And I will take him down.
I make my way through the woods, brushing aside clinging vines and ducking under branches. The journey seems to take forever, all the more so because I have no idea what I’m going to find when I reach my destination. But at long last, the bird leads me into a clearing, edged by gray standing stones. It roosts on top of one of them and caws at me.
“You could speak before,” I say, irritated. “Why be cryptic now?”
It spreads its obsidian wings wide and opens its beak. And then it says, in that same hoarse voice, “Welcome, Eva of the Commonwealth.”
Welcome to what? The clearing is empty, nothing here but a bunch of dead grass and those ominous standing stones. I peer more closely at them and see that they’re engraved with odd symbols I don’t recognize. And here I am, right in the middle of them. Alone.
The first hint of fear rears its ugly head.
I force myself to think. Mei’s ability was to prevent outsiders from seeing Vik, unless she chose to allow them in. If this is a Mage stronghold, then it only makes sense that they would do the same. And I can feel the weight of eyes on me. Not my companions’, hidden in the trees beyond the stones, but close at hand—as if they’re inspecting me, looking me over.
“I know you’re here,” I say, turning in a circle. “You asked me to come. Show yourself.”
At first, nothing happens. Then there’s a crackling sound that reminds me of the lightning that struck the Bastarour’s electric fence, the night I engineered Efraím’s death. The air in the clearing flickers, bends. And the next instant, I’m face to face with the Executor, Karsten at his side. Somehow, the bellator has reclaimed his blades. Perhaps Mei brought them to him, before she engineered his escape.
Have the two of them been here this whole time, somehow concealed? Or did they just step between the stones?
I don’t like this, Ari’s voice sounds in my head. I don’t like this at all.
“Hello, daughter mine,” the Executor says.
The very sound of it makes me want to vomit. I glare at him, somehow upright despite the way I savaged him, then at Karsten, whose burns are bandaged but who is more hale than he has any right to be. “I’m many things. None of them are yours. Where is the boy?”
“Ah. The young wolf prince.” The Executor’s thin lips rise in a chilly smile. “Patience, Eva. I can’t have you here armed, after all. Karsten, take her weapons.”
I assumed this was coming. But to put my blades in Karsten’s hands, of all people, is unthinkable. “I’ll throw them outside the circle,” I offer, a compromise.
“I don’t think so.” The Executor shakes his head. “You’re far too fast, when the situation requires it. Karsten will pat you down, and then we’ll talk about the child.”
The thought of it disgusts me, but I promised to save Erdahl. If this is the worst thing I have to do to make it happen, then I cannot balk. I am my own weapon, after all. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
An obnoxious smirk on his face, Karsten steps away from the Executor and limps toward me. As he searches me for weapons, his movements businesslike but thorough, I can feel Ari’s anger. He would be only too pleased to break every one of Karsten’s fingers, a sentiment I share. But I stand still, unprotesting. I’ll get my blades back soon enough.
Wait, I send to him through the bond. But Ari isn’t the one who answers. Instead, my wolf and panther speak as one. We have waited long enough, they say. These pitiful excuses for men will give us what we want. And then they will die.
I can feel my beasts’ eagerness trembling through me. To hell with my blades; they want to sink their teeth into Karsten’s neck, to tear his flesh and drink his blood. For a white-hot instant, fear spikes within me again. What if I can’t stop them?
I force myself to focus. Calm, I tell my beasts. You’ll have your chance. Just not yet. This is a hunt. We have to wait until the time is right.
To my relief, they subside into silence as Karsten yanks my long blade from its sheath on my back and my smaller blades from their thigh sheaths. Having pulled my last knife from my boot, he gathers them up and stalks back to the Executor’s side, where he dumps them into a pile at his feet.
I raise my empty hands to show I’m unarmed. “Well?”
“A deal is a deal, I suppose,” the Executor says. “Mateo, bring our young friend.”
The air does that disturbing flicker-bend again, and then Mateo steps between the stones, pushing Erdahl in front of him. My skin prickles. Where did they come from? What lies beyond the circle? And how is such magic possible?
The Executor chuckles at the shock that must show on my face. But when my gaze flicks to him, I can tell he’s not shocked at all. Whatever’s going on here, he understands it.
How long has he understood? Has he always been in league with the Mages?
An even more horrifying thought occurs to me. This whole time, as Ari and I thought we were escaping his clutches, have we just been playing into his twisted strategy? Have we been pawns in a long game that we had no idea existed…one that was always meant to lead to this?
I shove these infuriating thoughts away, focusing instead on the vise-grip that Mateo has on Erdahl’s shoulder. The boy’s face is white, his arms scratched and bruised. “What did you do to him?” I hiss. In my head, Ari says a single word, heavy with fury: Traitor.
“Nothing irreparable,” Mateo says, his tone as casual as if we’re discussing what will be served for dinner. “Truth be told, he did much of this to himself. I told him fighting back was pointless, but he didn’t listen. Alas, this was the consequence.”
“I don’t have to listen to you,” Erdahl says, twisting in Mateo’s grip. “You’re nothing to me. Kidnapping filth. When my parents get their hands on you—”
“Shut up,” Mateo says, and digs his fingers into a fresh bruise on Erdahl’s arm. The boy winces, sucking in a sharp breath.
From their vantage point high in the trees, Riley and Layla can see everything. I’m sure they’re beside themselves right now. Winging a prayer to the Architect that Ronan, Kilían, and Ari are able to hold them back, I say, “I’m here, as you asked.” I gesture at the bird, still perched on that same stone. “Now let him go.”
“I don’t think so,” the Executor muses. “After all, now we have you both. What incentive do we possibly have to let the boy go free?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Contempt chokes my voice, and once again, I feel my beasts stirring within me, threatening to break free. “Honor?”
For the first time, I see anger in the depths of the Executor’s pitch-dark eyes. “You dare speak to me of honor, Eva Marteinn? You, who betrayed your oath to the Bellatorum? Who slayed the Bastarour, our first line of defense, and killed the leader of the Thirty? You, who murdered your brethren nights ago?”
He must be joking. “They’re not my brethren anymore. And of the two of us, you believe yourself to be the honorable one? You, who tampered with my DNA and took my mother against her will? Who engineered the kidnapping of an innocent boy?” I step closer to him, ignoring the way Karsten stiffens and draws his blade. “If that is your definition of honor, I want none of it. Now let…him…go.”
The last few words issue between clenched teeth. My wolf’s growl rumbles in my chest, and I see Karsten flinch. He always was a coward.
The Executor gives me a cold smile. “Don’t worry,” he says to Karsten. “She won’t hurt me. If she does, Mateo will kill the boy. And she’s always been too soft-hearted for her own good.”
Rage bubbles within me. Erdahl is of our pack. He is ours. This snake of a man has no right to threaten him this way. “Call off your lapdog,” I tell him, with a sidelong glance at Karsten. “Or I’ll do it for you.”
Still smiling, the Executor shakes his head. “Alas, you haven’t earned my trust, Eva. You tried to disembowel me, after all.” His gaze flicks over me. “But I forgive you. We can accomplish so much together. Change the world. Soon, you’ll see.”
I want to tell him that he’s delusional. That I’d sooner slit my own wrists than cooperate with him. But before I can get out another word, several things happen in quick succession.
Erdahl sinks his teeth into Mateo’s arm. The guard backhands him, sending him flying into one of the stones with a sickening crack. Layla howls, an enraged, desperate sound that penetrates the clearing from the forest beyond. The raven takes flight, its wings flapping as it soars toward the sky. And I lose control.
I should have listened to Sebastían when he told me my grip on my beasts was tenuous. That their desires and needs might mesh with my own, entangled beyond recognition. But I was so focused on rescuing Erdahl, so convinced that I couldn’t stand by and let an innocent boy suffer, no matter the risks to myself. To us all.
Was I in my right mind when I committed to this mission? Or were my beasts driving me, fueled by their need to take down the prey that escaped us? Did they trick me into believing I was thinking clearly, when all along, they were the ones holding the reins?
Terror strafes through me at the thought. But it’s too late to turn back now.
Seeing Erdahl’s crumpled body at the foot of one of the standing stones breaks something in me. I don’t want to fight my beasts for dominance anymore.
I—we—just want the bastards dead.
I can’t shift; the distance from Ari prevents that. Still, my wolf’s growl rises in my chest again as she barrels toward the surface of my skin, determined to do injury to the man who hurt our pack’s pup.
We will make him pay.
The barrier between my wolf and me disintegrates. I am her. She is me. United in my human body, we charge at Mateo.
There is an instant when I see myself reflected in the dark discs of his eyes. I look as feral as I feel, my teeth bared and my expression empty of anything but the revenge that is my pack’s due. I watch as he sees his death on my face. As he turns, far too late, and tries to run.
I am on him before he’s gone two steps, the growl that reverberates through me shaking my entire body. He fights, but it is useless. His fate is sealed.
“Look at me,” I snarl, and when he does, his terrified brown eyes meeting mine, his mouth forming the words Please and No and Don’t, I snap his neck.
My wolf howls in triumph, and, in the forest, Layla and Riley echo me. But as I let Mateo’s limp body drop to the ground, the air around the stones flickers again. I hear a high-pitched shriek of rage, followed by the rise of that overwhelming anise scent. The Mages are out there, concealing themselves, Mei probably among them.
Kicking Mateo’s body aside, I kneel next to Erdahl. I can hear his heart beating, sluggish and slow—but his head hit the stone so hard. He’s alive, yes…but for how long?
Yet another life I can lay at the Executor’s feet.
My head comes up and I let the man who has made my life a living hell see exactly what I plan to do to him. To his credit, he doesn’t retreat. “I know you’re angry,” he says, his tone conciliatory, as if trying to gentle a wild animal. “But don’t you want to save your mother, Eva? I’m the only one who knows where she is. Kill me, and she’ll be trapped forever.”
If he thinks reminding me of what he did to Cordelia will cause me to abandon my desire to re-eviscerate him, he doesn’t understand me at all. “I’ll take my chances.”
“You’re being shortsighted,” he chides me. “Together with the Mages, we can wed science and magic. See how they’ve healed me, thanks to the presence of the boy? Now that you’re here, they’ll be more powerful still. When we’re victorious, your mother will rule at my side, as will you. And then the world will be ours, Eva, don’t you understand? It will be yours.”
I stare into his black eyes, gleaming with the intensity of a zealot, and wish I didn’t perceive the echo of my own. If I could peel away everything this man bequeathed to me, step out of my own skin, rebraid my DNA, I would. All I can do is prove that I am nothing, nothing like him.
I will kill him. I will save my mother and bring her home. I will set the citizens of the Commonwealth free.
“Our deal is off,” I tell him, my voice holding the weight of my panther’s snarl. “You promised Erdahl would be returned safe and sound, in exchange for me. I came here in good faith, and now there he lies, perhaps hurt beyond repair. A life for a life. It’s only fair.”
I stalk toward him, intending to finish what I started. But Karsten steps in front of him, blades in hand. His message is obvious: You’ll have to go through me first.
Fury simmers, narrowing my vision to a red-rimmed tunnel. Karsten’s face looms at the end of it, pale and set and determined. He lunges at me, sverd in hand, and I dodge. Once, I dueled him and Riis simultaneously and bested them. Now Riis lies dead, Karsten is wounded, and I hold the strength and skills of four beasts. He doesn’t stand a chance.
Through the bond, I hear Ari calling to me, warning me. Control yourself, he hisses through the bond. This isn’t what we agreed on. But I don’t listen; why would I? We have our prey in our sights. We’re not about to let him get away.
I foot-sweep one of my blades toward me and kneel to grab it. When I glance up, Karsten is standing over me, clutching the hilt of his sverd in both hands, clearly intending to stab me in the back. How fitting.
I push myself to my feet, using momentum and body weight to fuel my strike. My blade goes in beneath his ribs, and I shove harder, fighting bone and gristle, until I feel it pierce his heart.
I raise my bloodied blade to meet my father’s eyes. But he isn’t there.
What in the name of—
Inside me, there’s the strangest sensation: an ache, and then a tugging, as if my very essence is rushing outward. No, not rushing. Being pulled.
That crackling sound fills the air again. Then the illusion drops and I see what lies beyond the circle: a city built into the forest, with elaborate structures in the trees and bridges strung between them. Under other circumstances, I might find it beautiful. But not now.
Look, my wolf snarls. There they stand. The ones who sheltered those who splintered our pack.
From between the trees steps a line of women dressed in red, hair flying out behind them as if in the wake of a wild wind, though the air is still. Their arms are outstretched, channeling their magic.
Mages.
My wolf and my panther speak as one. Kill them, they say. Kill them now.
The scent of anise fills the air, so strong I choke on it. My pulse trembles through my entire body, fury sparking hot on every inch of my skin. I have my blades. I could move through them in a whirl of silver, mowing them down one by one.
For Erdahl’s sake, I should.
Eva, Ari sends through the bond, his voice desperate. Stop. Don’t do this—
But I have no intention of stopping. I wipe my bloodied blade on my pants, grab the rest from the ground, and move toward the edge of the circle, my feet soundless on the grass. But when I reach the stones and try to step through them, I can go no further. Some invisible force holds me back, preventing me from crossing from the circle to the tree-city beyond. Inside me, that tugging sensation intensifies, like something has its hooks in my very soul.
My panther comes forward, lips curled back as she scents the air, trying to understand what this barrier is that holds us. “Let me through,” she growls, using my mouth as her vessel.
The phalanx of women in red hold the line, arms extended. Their bodies tremble as if holding me in the stone circle is taking physical effort. And then, from behind them, comes a familiar voice.
“Why would we do that?” it says.
Also clad in red, Mei steps through the ranks of the Mages and strolls toward me. “Hello, Eva,” she says, lips lifted in a smile.
At the sight of her, rage breaks over me anew. “I should have let you die when Riis had that blade at your throat,” I spit at her. “But there’s no time like the present.”
I grip a blade in each hand, weighing them. I can’t pass the circle. But perhaps my weapons can.
If they can, though…why doesn’t Mei look afraid?
Deep inside me, my panther stirs. Trick, she whispers. Trap. Run.
Inside my head, Ari echoes her. He tells me he’s coming. He warns me to flee.
I stand my ground instead and let the first blade fly. It breaches the circle, and I feel a stab of triumph. But as it soars toward Mei, it wobbles, blown off course. I follow its trajectory and see one of the red-clad women waving her hand through the air, directing the knife’s path.
How is that possible?
I throw the second blade. It meets the same fate as the first.
Ari’s mind-voice sounds, taut with urgency. Get out of there, Eva. For the Architect’s sake, go.
But I came here to save Erdahl, and failed. Killing the Executor is still within my grasp. If I can take Mei with me, that will be a bonus.
So instead, I lunge for her, heedless of the invisible barrier in my way.
And the world around me explodes.
Chapter 17
Ari
One moment, Eva is standing within that cursed stone circle with two corpses and a battered boy, hurling blades that fail to meet their mark. The next, the air quakes with an explosion so powerful, it knocks all of us out of the trees where we’re concealing ourselves. Sebastían manages to catch himself on the way down, the bastard. The rest of us tumble to the ground as smoke begins to fill the woods, billowing from the direction of the circle.
For a terrifying second, I’m back in the Brotherhood’s encampment, with the bombing, all over again. My heart thuds against my ribcage, and my ears ring. I can’t catch my breath.
Eva! I call through the bond, as loud as I can. Eva! But there’s nothing.
Coughing, I crawl forward, desperate to reach her. Instead, I slam right into someone who grabs me by the collar. “Stop,” Kilían says, close to my ear. “We need a new plan.”
