Down from the Tower (Deadly Endings Book 1), page 15
It’s much more complicated than that, since the Reapers didn’t exist for years before we were created, but Modred doesn’t need to know that.
He continues to complain beneath his breath before he turns back to the trees. His soul is getting into the habit of wandering, something that all spirits do after death. The separation from his physical form leaves him feeling lost and confused, and wandering is common. He can’t help himself.
I wait for several long minutes after he disappears into the trees before activating the stone. My magic is down, but the dark of night will help me recharge if I let my body rest. I still have enough to make the stone work, and after several moments Raymundo’s face flashes across the screen.
“Zarev,” he says, his image shifting around. He appears to be walking, and with the lights illuminating the background I’m willing to bet he’s at the tavern. “Escape Tressa yet?”
“You could say that,” I reply, glancing towards the princess. “I brought a Golden Flower with me.”
“Flower?” Raymundo continues, and he shifts around until the background is darker. “Zarev, you did take care of the princess didn’t you?”
I roll my eyes. “No. She isn’t the danger, Midas is.”
“But does she have magic? We need to find the dead hiding in Tressa, not help to keep them trapped. Something doesn’t let the souls leave. That’s what you were supposed to figure out.”
I chew the side of my cheek. I was in Tressa for nearly three weeks. “I never felt a soul passing until tonight. It was a visitor from another land.”
“Tressa takes visitors? I thought that a shrewd king like Midas wouldn’t allow that.”
“He holds court with Camelot, like we thought. Midas has his fingers in too many pools, and he’s going to be the problem.”
“But not the princess?” Raymundo questions, leaning closer to the stone. “If she can control life-”
“I think she is life,” I tell my friend, and his eyes widen. “She does something with her magic. Even she doesn’t seem to understand it. But she controls age and we just learned she can heal.”
“We?” He drags a hand through his hair. “Where are you? If she can play with life-”
“That’s not what this is.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, willing myself to stay calm. “There’s something unusual about Rapunzel. The King kept her locked in a tower and only brought her out when it was convenient for him. She had bars on her windows and locks on her doors. When he did bring her out, she held audience with his guests and used her magical hair to reverse the aging process.”
Raymundo blinks slowly, and I know it sounds as wild as it feels. “You’re speaking in past tense. Is the Golden King dead?”
“Hardly. We escaped the castle after she accidentally killed Modred from Camelot.”
Silence. My Hell Brother’s mouth falls open, his eyes widening almost comically. Going over the wall was supposed to reduce problems, not create more.
Finally, he licks his lips and speaks again. “She - Rapuznel, she killed a member of Camelot?”
“Yes.”
He purses his lips. “When I spoke to Lucius last, he said a ship bearing Arthur’s flag sails past Thornton Palace. It’s small, discreet, but noticeable if you know what to look for. The Mad Queen could have allies in Camelot. I don’t see a small vessel taking on the Endless Sea to Ander Son’s Way.”
“She possibly has allies in Tressa as well,” I mutter. My hand moves to my chest when I shift the wrong way, and Raymundo’s keen eyes follow the movement.
“There’s blood covering your tattoos.”
I blink, glancing down. A mix of dried red and deep black blood covers the back of my hand, obscuring the slashes through the spade symbol. I guess some of the princesses' blood stained my hands. “We were injured during the escape. King Midas kindly shot me with gold.”
“And he attacked his daughter?”
“No, Modred did that before she killed him.”
Raymundo drags a hand across his face, gesturing for me to go on. I give him a brief recap of the last few weeks. I guess Lucius didn’t pass much along when we talked weeks ago.
When I finish, he presses his hand to his forehead before staring back at me. I briefly catch the image of the clover carved into his palm, but it disappears from view just as quickly. “The gold could corrupt you or poison you. You know how Midas treats his prisoners. The torture can last for years.”
“Yes. Raymundo. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
He nods, pursing his lips. “Mother should be able to watch the tavern for a night or two alone. I don’t like to go back out this soon after I’m back, but she’ll understand if I’m helping you. I think the others can assist for a few days.”
“We’re to the eastern side of Sherwood,” I tell him, and he simply nods. “Can’t be more than a couple hundred yards from the wall. But Midas has his chaos in court to deal with tonight. I doubt he’ll send guards over the wall just yet.”
“It won’t make the path any easier,” Raymundo responds. “If I head out in a few hours I can meet you in the evening tomorrow. There’s been little activity from the ogres on that side of the forest. I haven’t seen any bones the last few weeks. I did hear about some rogue mimics though. The gardens are overflowing again and flowers are escaping.”
I glance over at Rapunzel. She’s too pretty to drag through the woods like this. There’s plenty of evil hiding in the underbrush, and beauty is a curse when others will kill for it. That magic hair of hers will be a liability with all the branches, and it would be easy for someone to grab her by the ends as we walk. Mimics love pretty things, and if any of the Flowerborne are this far south they won’t be much more than demons by this point.
Even if she plaits it at her nape, Rapunzel’s going to stick out. Her features are strong and she certainly resembles her father. Anyone who knows of the Golden King could pick her out and that will be an issue if we run across travelers and once we reach the tavern. The fewer people who can place where they saw her, the better.
And if the ogres are prowling around looking for a snack that’s one more problem to deal with. Mimics and Flowerborne are a whole other matter, not to mention other wanderers or soldiers from the Red Woods or Camelot.
“Keep the princess close,” Raymundo goes on. “She may be useful.”
I tense my jaw, but there’s no response I can give for that. My interests in the princess go well beyond the scope of my mission.
After a few minutes we disconnect the stones, and it goes dull and lifeless in my palm once more. Looking back at Rapunzel, I raise an eyebrow at the sleeping girl.
She does look young, but then, so do I. Time does funny things when you’re playing with magic, and she certainly wears the effects like a coat. Her youth is profound for someone that’s been the gossip of Mystica for nearly thirty years, yet she looks so young and at peace when she sleeps.
A bit of a disaster really, tangled up in her hair and snoring slightly. Her dress is dirty from the ground, the cinched purple and gold pressing on her torso and making her breaths short. There’s two more days of walking ahead of us, and maneuverability is critical in Sherwood. Even if we meet Raymundo partway, he’d have to shadow hop with her to The Missing Shoe for us to speed up the journey, and that’s only if she’s well enough for that.
The dress has to go. At the very least the corset top and probably three inches off the hem so she doesn’t trip. If we rip enough fabric she may be able to do something about her hair too.
Glancing around, I don’t spot Modred. If he’s smart he’ll stay nearby, but not near enough to cause more problems. Tomorrow or the next day I should have enough energy to open the gates and guide him onward. His spirit won’t pass on its own if he’s still loitering this many hours later.
Leaning back against a tree, I force myself to close my eyes. It’s going to be a long trek through Sherwood, and we need all our wits about us if we might have to face the Flowerborne.
13 Rapunzel
When the world brightens outside of the cave, I think we might start over and not be so hostile as we travel. Unfortunately, he’s in an awful mood first thing in the morning. After tossing the water pouch at me, he puts out the fire and gets us ready to travel.
But he is out of his mind if he thinks I’m going to keep stripping off the layers. I gave up the bottom few inches of my skirts just fine, but the corset is another matter.
His brow twitches as he watches me, using part of the fabric of my dress to bind his chest where Midas’ gold struck him. He’s partially cleaned our mixed blood off his skin, the spades on his hands as strange as ever to observe. He doesn’t exactly look better in the morning light, but he doesn’t look worse, either.
Well, he doesn’t at first. But when the light catches his tanned skin, bits of gold shine beneath the bandage. My jaw falls open, realizing the gold he was working at last night is back, and it looks like the same amount of marks are in his skin again.
It doesn’t make a lot of sense. I saw him digging out the gold, forcing the black blood to bubble up as he did it. I’ve already tried to offer to heal him, but he’s resistant. I need to eat something, and we have a lot of walking ahead to wherever he’s planning on taking me. My energy is down, and as much as I’d like to help, he’s against it. I have the whole day to try and change his mind, but avoiding my help out of stubbornness is a little ridiculous.
“You need to be free to move while walking through the forest,” he snaps, brushing his dark hair from his face. It snaps me out of my thoughts and back to the current problem. His red-orange eyes are more alive today, somewhat reminding me of last night when he jumped awake and attacked me. His shirt is gone, shredded from the gold, and I’m not sure if he tried to salvage any fabric or not. The cloak partially covers him, but he’s still mostly bare from the waist up aside from the bad binding across his pecs.
And now he wants me to remove my corset. People will get wild ideas if they see us walking around. Or worse, if they just see me. I’ve already started walking around barefoot, and I can hear my mother's judgmental voice for every little move I make.
“You know people will think I’ve gone mad,” I argue, crossing my arms over the bodice. I can’t remove it on my own as is, and letting Zarev undress me feels like kicking the line of decency completely off a cliff. It makes me think all too much about his hands grabbing the front and ripping it open. “I can’t run through the forest-”
“Sherwood-”
“-through Sherwood half naked!”
His eyes rake over me, making my blush, and my legs snap together. The breeze is nice when it blows beneath my skirt, cooling my legs considerably, but it’s going to work against me when night comes. At least my feet don’t hurt anymore since Zarev suggested I heal them with my new gift.
Or my old gift. I suppose it depends how you look at it.
“You’re still dressed modestly enough,” he replies with a shrug. “This isn’t your father’s castle, and the woods aren’t as strict as a Kingdom. You will blend in fine. Better, in fact, since you won’t be flaunting your wealth with that golden top.”
I glance down. The material is soft gold, not a curse from Midas but simply thread spun into the gold. I eye it before glancing at the gauzy layers beneath.
I know I’ll breathe better if I take it off, it’s just so far out of my comfort zone…
He’s already pinned me down, and I liked it. I need hard lines to keep my head on straight.
Zarev waits, crossing his arms as he taps his foot. I bite my lip, eyeing him before clutching the dress again. “I don’t want to look… easy out here.”
“Princess, people can see me too. All I have to do is not hide behind the shadows.You won’t look out of place in Sherwood. There’s killer flowers, mimics, beastly wolves and shifters, not to mention the ogres. You fit in fine. Even if someone did try something with you, I imagine you could melt another face off and get away.”
I flinch at the reminder, but he does have a point. I don’t really know how to control it, but maybe if I felt like I was in danger I could activate these powers again.
Modred’s been missing all morning. When I woke up Zarev was already putting out the fire and collecting his things, but he denied sending the spirit on into the afterlife. I’m not sure how that works, but I imagine it’s something I’d notice since I can apparently see the dead.
That’s another thing that’s too freaky to think about. I never noticed that people were dead before, but now I don’t know what to make of it.
Swallowing, I give a sharp nod. “Okay, fine. You may have a point. But you need to undo the corset.”
He twirls a finger. “Spin around.”
My hair is pulled into a messy ponytail, and I distract myself by combining my fingers through the tangles to work on a braid. It works for all of a minute before I feel Zarev’s touch on my back.
My spine stiffens, then arches at the touch. His hands are still warm, something I’m beginning to think never changes with him. His touch is strong as I feel his palms glide down my back before the straps of the corset pull tighter, making me drop my hair with a gasp.
“I have to undo the tie to loosen this,” he explains, his breath on my ear. It sends shivers down my spine, and it finally snaps into place that I’m letting this man undress me in the woods.
All alone.
He’s back to pulling on the corset, and my mind scatters. There’s another moment of tension before it loosens, and I take a deep breath when my ribs no longer feel like they are being squeezed to death.
He makes quick work of the rest of it, deftly pulling the straps and loosening it up. When it’s loose enough to pull free from me he grabs both sides before pulling it from my skin, and on instinct my hands reach up to cover my chest. He’s at my back, and there’s fabric in the way to keep him from seeing everything, but I still can’t help the embarrassment.
His chuckle is deep, and when his chin brushes against my shoulder I gasp. “No hiding now, Princess. You’ll need those hands at the ready in case something jumps out.”
His heat lingers at my back, and before I can overthink it I step back into his embrace. He doesn’t pull away, the stubble along his jaw scraping lightly over my skin. It makes my breath hitch, my hands clenching over my chest.
I feel his tongue dart out, licking the sweat along my neck, and I whimper at his touch. “You’re wound so tight, Princess. This isn’t your father’s court. We aren’t playing games for the masses. You have a freedom out here in the world that you wouldn’t find in Tressa. Enjoy it.”
My heart slams in my chest, his words sounding all too real. He has a point that none of this could happen back home, even in the tower. Here I’ll find freedom to be myself, no matter how short lived my time out here is.
I don’t know if I’ll go back to my tower, or even Tressa, but right now, there’s a world of choices around us.
And my first choice is to give into Zarev, because I need to feel his frightening touch again.
Arching back, he hisses against my skin. I swallow my fears, letting a carefree version of myself blossom. This could be my only chance while I’m outside the walls. “You teased me with your shadows once. Show me that again.”
All at once, I feel the ghostly grip as the shadows bloom from nowhere, the gray-black wisps twisting around in front of me. They brush along my thighs, some buckling over my feet to pin me in place. I gasp when they wrap around my middle, spinning me much too fast to face him, the shadows at my feet twisting to allow me to bend to his whim.
Facing him, our closeness is all too real. I gasp when he leans in, forehead pressed to mine, his shadows tightening all around me. “Last chance to take that back, Princess.”
I grit my teeth, willing my hands to heat and remind him that I have power too. But at the last moment, Modred’s melting face pops into my head and I grab my braid and throw it around his waist instead.
I don’t expect much, not with how loose my head feels today. But my hair is strong, and it whips around Zarev fast enough that I can grasp it on the other side, and I drag him closer to me until there’s no space left.
He growls, his lips brushing mine when he speaks. “I knew you had a dark side to that sunshine.”
His lips slant against mine, and I fight to lift onto my toes and deeper the kiss. He tastes like smoke does when it brushes your lips, the scent of the woods a part of him as we kiss.
While I have to keep my hands in place, the shadows let him explore. One of his real hands fists around my throat, and I moan against his mouth at the pressure, his other arm moving to grab my leg, pulling us backward into the nearest tree. My back hits first, the shadows shifting to cushion the feel of bark behind me, and his hips snap into mine.
My head flies back, a gruntle moan slipping from my lips. Zarev is so different from the two men I’ve bedded before, and it makes me want more of him.
His lips find my throat, biting and kissing at the skin. I feel little pokes as he devours me, and I think of the razor-sharp teeth I saw last night.
I should pull back and use some common sense. But he feels too good, and my pussy is wet enough I’m sure he could take me right here and I’d gladly bend over. I’m not usually this free, but when Death is ready to fuck you, there isn’t a whole lot to fear finding you.
The soft, sinful feel of the shadows skates up my legs, like being caressed by darkness itself. I gasp when I feel them brushing at the apex of my thighs, one long wisp brushing over my center when Zarev grinds against me.
He chuckles darkly in my ear, making my body throb with need. “You know the benefit of playing with the dark, Golden Girl? The shadows let me fill any hole I want.”
I shriek, his lips finding mine to swallow the noise when I feel his shadow magic pulling my legs further apart, one daring shadow shifting to feel more like a cock, and the strange, exhilarating pressure pushes inside me.
