Moonless (21 page)

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Authors: Crystal Collier

BOOK: Moonless
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57

Deception

             
 

Alexia stood in the doorway, watching as Sarah pulled a brush through her long hair, mind whirling.

If the Soulless already
knew
she’d connected with Arik, she didn’t have much time. She had to believe the contrary—because she still lived, because John was the only emissary they’d sent to break her. They must attribute her grief to Mother’s death. John was planting doubts, despondence. He was working for the Soulless to weaken and confuse her.

And it worked!

Yes, Arik withheld several somethings from her, including his knowledge of her demise. What she couldn’t understand was why. If he comprehended the details of her last hour, then why not share them? Why not give her the power to survive, to overcome?

The “glow” John referenced faced her in the mirror, but it hadn’t come by being
with Arik. It came when she turned sixteen, like Sarah.

John must have lied.

Unless he didn’t . . .

It was possible Arik took advantage of her—if not when she came of age, when he healed her in the woods, or in a past she couldn’t remember. And had he been with Sarah? Did she share a luminescence because she shared him? Had he been the one lying to her all along, not John?

“Sarah?”

Her aunt twisted in her seat before the bureau mirror, brush halted mid-stroke.

“You are Passionate?”

Sarah grinned. “I wondered when this conversation would come.”

Alexia knelt next to her. “How?”

“I do not know.” She lifted a hand to Alexia’s cheek. “My parents never spoke of it, and they were dead long before I knew to ask. I discovered it the night I came of age, when Arik invited me to join our kind.”

She swallowed. “And?”

Sarah’s smile reminded her of summer days spent in the flower garden as child. “I chose to stay. I could not abandon my dearest sister.”

Tears welled in her eyes.“But you might have been happier, had you gone with him.”

Her aunt shrugged. “I might have, but I am happy now.”

“But John—”

“Is a good man with charitable heart. Do not judge him too harshly.”

Alexia studied her fingers. “And your husband, Henry?”

Material whispered as Sarah shifted. “He deserved exactly what he got.”

She shivered. “How? How did you do it?”

Sarah lifted Alexia’s chin. She pointed at the wooden hairbrush clasped in one fist, and pulled her fingers away. It hovered.

Alexia grabbed the vanity, leaning forward. She poked the brush. It spun in a circle, and shot straight up. It flipped, bristles up, and lowered slowly to the dressing table. She blinked at her aunt.

“Anything composed of wood responds to my command.” Sarah grinned and scooted forward. “But you must tell me about your gift. What can you do?”

Alexia sat back. “I dream of people dying.”

Her aunt’s nose crinkled. “Dying?”

She nodded.

Silence filled the room.

Sarah shuddered. “No dreaming of me, do you understand?”

***

The cycle culminated: the waning moon to an empty sky. According to John, when the New Moon occurred, the Soulless shared a collective consciousness—the thing that drove all of them to madness with hunger. What one saw, all saw. Considering John’s knowledge of their location and vulnerability, she and Sarah fled to the safety of Wilhamshire. John encouraged their departure, and that worried Alexia.

Her eyes strayed to the hill as their carriage rattled into town. Haunted House of Stark stood a dark sentinel, distantly cowing over the populace, the one place Arik would certainly be. She could still choose that life, she hoped, even if it she couldn’t allow herself to want him. But choosing that world would mean leaving Sarah and Father forever. Could she do that?
 

58

Rising

             
 

Kiren sat up as the carriage rolled by, temporarily deafened to the roar of conversation in the pub. He gripped the table. That was Sarah’s carriage. Alexia was here. Of all places for her to be tonight, why here?

He rose. Lester placed a hand on his arm, head shaking as he indicated the other faces around the table. Kiren exhaled and sat back down. There were weightier matters at hand. But his eyes kept bouncing to the window, a voice screaming at the back of his mind to find her, to shelter her from the hell that was about to rain down.

59

Time

             
 

Alexia sat on the bed staring at the shuttered window. Her hands trembled. He was out there somewhere, close. Sarah lay asleep beside her, oblivious to the burning candle and the pain throbbing through Alexia’s heart.

She closed her eyes. She could feel him, not far. Could he feel her?

She rose and reached for the door with shaking fingers, but stopped. If he’d wanted to see her, surely he would have come. And it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to see him—not ever again, even if her heart threatened to burst.

A shriek bled through the window. She grabbed at her chest, pulse thundering. Someone had not escaped.

A cool breeze tickled across the floor as she leaned up against the splintering shutters, squinting between them. Darkness filled the street below—but no! Movement.

The shadows twisted. Forms flitted across her line of vision in the street, gone as quickly as a bird in flight. More. And more.

She gasped. How many were out there tonight?

“I cannot decide which is more pathetic.”

Her eyes shot wide. Pain blasted through her head, the world about her stilling. Her hand dropped to her side, cutting through air that didn’t want to move, hindered by the iron-like weight of her sleeve. She turned, slowly.

A frozen candle flame reflected the child’s golden ringlets, Bellezza’s blood-red lips curled impishly. But the door remained closed. Where had the girl come from?

Alexia’s eyes snapped to the candle.

A motionless flame? She stared. Motionless? She sucked in air, the stale taste smarting against her tongue. What was going on?

She took a step. Weight thudded through her head, like the drop of a brick
inside
her skull. She jerked her heavy skirts forward with both hands and crossed the room, one jarring footfall at a time. She dropped to Sarah’s side and patted her aunt’s cheek. It was warm, but hard as stone.

No response.

Pain rumbled through her cranium like the clash of opposing storm clouds. Alexia groaned, grabbing her forehead. She forced her eyes wide and took in the rest of the room.

Bellezza’s dress cupped the light like petals of a morning glory. Her curls hung, suspended on an absent breeze.

Nothing was moving. Nothing but Alexia.

Time. Time was frozen!

She swallowed. A stab of agony dragged at the back of her head. Blackness. She braced on the bed, every muscle flexed.

She had done this, somehow, but how did she undo it?

She pulled in a breath, focusing on loosening her muscles. They obeyed slowly. The throbbing in her skull dimmed from blinding white, to gray.

The candle flame leaned away. It wriggled slowly back toward her. She took in a deep breath and exhaled, releasing more pain. The flame quickened, flickering. The writhing in her brain died. She leaned on the bed, exhausted, as Bellezza’s dress rustled.

“You or . . .”Fabric swished. Alexia felt the child’s death-inducing glare seeping into her. “You discovered a new talent.” The malevolent soprano sent chills down her spine. “I wonder if it will be enough to save you from your certain death tonight.”

Alexia jerked her head up, grabbing her brow as a headache thundered through. It was not the sensation of the world screeching to a halt, but as though she’d beaten her own brow against a granite wall for hours. Bellezza’s wicked grin fluctuated in her vision.

The child laughed. “But then, you might bring about your own death, no help needed.”

Alexia let out moan.

Bellezza’s smile winked out. “I wonder, if I throw you in the path of the Soulless, will you be able to do it again?”

Would this be the night—the evening her nightmares had predicted for seventeen years? Alexia pulled herself up on the mattress and lifted a protective arm over Sarah, her own heart thumping in her ears. “What are you doing here?”

The child’s head tilted. “Why, Alexia, when have I ever harmed you?” Her eyes batted innocently.

“House of Stark.”

“Oh, yes.” She clapped, shoulders bouncing in glee. “But that wasn’t one of my better attempts. Believe me, if I wanted you dead, it would be much more ingenious.” A finger tapped at her chin, eyes lighting. “Glass! Broken glass to bring out the sparkle in your eyes.” Her fingers danced to create the effect. “And it would have to be stained glass—from the church tower I throw you from, because you are so
pathetically
innocent.”

Alexia closed her mouth. What was the proper response to someone planning your murder?

Bellezza flopped down on the floor next to her, skirts poofing. “But I haven’t come to kill you.” She grinned like Alexia should be the happiest person in the world.

“You came to protect me?”

The girl scoffed. “No.” She giggled wickedly and whirled back onto her feet, nose crinkling. “You are so naive!”

Sarah groaned and rolled. Alexia grabbed her aunt’s hand. “Whatever you are after, Bellezza, just have it all ready!”

The girl sighed. “I am here to help you, and you will help me in return.” That sounded like a deal with the devil.

“How?”

Bellezza’s lips parted.

The door burst open.

60

Weapons

               

Kiren stopped dead in the doorframe, his pendant clenched in one fist. Three heads whirled his direction, two raven, one golden. Bellezza’s little face contorted.

He bit down. She was not supposed to be here. What was she playing at now?

A whiff of amber and pomegranate pulled his gaze to Alexia, his heart and soul. She knelt over her startled aunt in a bed gown, her lips parted, eyes wide and vulnerable.

It didn’t matter that being with her was wrong. It didn’t matter that he’d regret every touch, every taste, every stolen heartbeat. It didn’t matter that she hated him entirely. Now that she was before him, she was the only thing worth fighting for, the only thing he needed in the whole world.

And Bellezza was
here
.

He slowed his heart and focused on the child. He took in her empty hands, nails curled like claws, her body coiled to spring. Her eyes creased at the corners, mouth twitching.

He licked his lips, calculating. It would require one step and hurdling a bed to shield Alexia in his arms. The child needed only half that to pounce.

He swallowed.

Bellezza growled.

Shouts erupted behind him. He twisted.

Black shadows streaked into the lobby below, blasting an icy nothingness up to the landing beneath his feet. Cloaked forms crunched down on top of the men who’d barred the entrance after his admittance. The stench of burning flesh hit his nose.

No.

Screams shook through the building. They pierced his ears. They ripped at his heart. More creatures flooded through the open door below with every second.

He glanced back over his shoulder, grinding his teeth. Save Alexia from Bellezza, or stop the Soulless? There was no time to debate! The lower floor had disappeared, completely engulfed in writhing blackness. Dark bodies surged up the stairs.

He sucked in a breath, gagging on the rot. He’d never faced so many. Did he have the strength? 

His fingers bit into his pendant.

He lifted his arm, tilted his head back, and prayed for more power than he possessed.

61

Blur

             
 

Whiteness engulfed the world. A grip encircled Alexia’s arm. She turned, but haze obscured even where the fingers squeezed her skin. She became weightless, carried on a silent tide, wrapped in its downy plumes. The floor fell away. Her toes reached for something solid, but found only air.

A massive gust of wind whirled across her cheeks and battered her skirt, tearing at her hair. She tried to scream and gagged on wet whiteness, her nose twitching with the organic dampness, unwilling to breathe it in—like inhaling a living creature. It pressed at her skin, tiny moist fingers crawling across her flesh, trying to infiltrate her body, dense, and alive with their own need.

The wind died down. Dark outlines surfaced in her peripherals, vapor dissolving all too quickly. Her knees crunched into a blanket of snow as her full weight returned. Bellezza’s solid hand pressed over her arm.

The impish child released her.

Alexia staggered to her feet. Sarah climbed up beside her, leaning into her niece and shivering. Giant black trees drooped over them. Swaths of starlight littered the snow like frozen diamonds.

Bellezza huffed and skulked between trees.

Alexia pulled Sarah after the child, as they huddled together for warmth. They followed her footprints and stepped through a drape of trees, stopping dead.

Candles glowed in the windows of a two-story estate: Sarah’s house.

“How is that possi—?” Her aunt stumbled back a step.

Bellezza’s wicked grin widened at Sarah. “You should have told him
yes
.” Her eyebrows lowered. “Our world is remarkable.”

Alexia met her aunt’s gaze, offering a silent warning. They could not be too careful in the presence of this girl.

The child skipped ahead of them toward the building, her skirts whirling in a terrible rhythm.

Alexia shuddered. She’d felt the chill and stillness at the inn, the ominous silence that preceded a Soulless attack. Bellezza had saved them, clearly, but what had happened to Arik? Did he escape? Was he fighting? Was he safe?

She had to believe he was. Her heart whispered she’d know if he’d been hurt. “Bellezza, what happened back there?”

The child twirled and walked backwards, her eyes glittering. “The beginning.”

“Of what?”

Her grin doubled, darkness filling her tone. “Putting things aright.”

Snatches of a previous conversation trickled through Alexia’s memory—something about humans and groveling. Her stomach churned. The girl’s sneer shot frost through her skin.

Bellezza threw her hands upward and spun twice, still moving toward the house, her voice thrumming with glee. “Soon our glory will be restored. Soon the world will know proper chaos. Soon, we will reign.”

Sarah grabbed Alexia’s arm, whispering, “Is she a lunatic?”

Alexia touched her aunt’s hand and shook her head with wide eyes. The last thing she needed was Bellezza plotting Sarah’s death. She cleared her throat. “You speak of a revolution?”

Bellezza danced up the doorstep. “Think of it, Alexia, a world where we move about freely, taking what we want, punishing those who dare to oppose us.”

Sarah’s nails pierced Alexia’s skin.

“Ouch!”

Her aunt let go. “You speak of something that can never be.”

Bellezza halted with a hand on the door and looked back. “Oh, it can and it will—just as soon as we obtain the great weapon.”

“Great weapon?” Alexia and Sarah asked in unison.

“It can be used against both the Soulless and Passionate.” Bellezza’s dark eyes glimmered with more excitement than a child on Christmas morn. “One side will have to bend to the other, and both will be beholden to the bearer.” The girl clapped her hands, leaning forward, voice hushing conspiratorially. “And can you guess who knows where it is?” She pointed to herself.

The blood drained from Alexia’s face. A weapon like that in Bellezza’s hands?

Sarah pushed the door open, stopping to face the child. “A woman such as yourself needs allies, does she not?”

Alexia shot a startled look at her aunt. Did Sarah truly intend to join Bellezza in so absurd a quest? Had she been damaged in the head during their flight?

Bellezza giggled and kicked her sodden slippers aside. She stretched, yawned, and bobbed in a curtsey. “I am off for my beauty sleep.” And she bounded up the stairs, her violet skirt flouncing behind her.

“You would think she owns the place.” Sarah scoffed, but her brow cocked with a deeper quandary.

Alexia turned on her aunt. “What do you mean, extending yourself to her? She will kill you.”

Sarah smirked. “She is a child, Lexy. She sees a toy, and of course she wants it.” Her aunt closed the door and grimaced at the discarded slippers. “It is incumbent upon the adults in her presence to remove any valuables from her grasp before she does them, or herself, harm.”

Alexia grabbed her near-sister’s arm. “She is far more dangerous than you give her credit.”

Sarah’s face darkened. “So am I.”

***

Alexia sat in bed, unable to sleep. Arik was out there somewhere, and she hoped he’d escaped. The blur of her rescue eventually solidified into one bewildering idea:

She’d stopped time
.

The world had seemed to freeze in so many instances: when she was attacked in the woods, the night she and Sarah were chased by the Soulless, and her fall in the Wilhamshire house. Had
she
actually brought time to a halt in every case?

The other thing that kept her from slumbering was the promise in Bellezza’s eyes: change was coming.

Dangerous change.

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