Shadowglass (30 page)

But Azure landed between us on crouched thighs, a dirty blue angel, wings folded tight like a striking cobra’s hood. She grabbed my throat, and her hot breath burned my face, slipping into my mouth. It tasted odd, of pepper and almonds. My tongue swelled swiftly, stopping my breath. Panic rose like floodwater as I struggled for air. What was that? A drug? Where did she get that?

But I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t breathe. She grinned, her blue eyes cruel, and before I realized she’d poisoned me, I passed out.

25

B
laze doubles up and rolls over and over on the sodden ground, fighting the excruciating compulsion to scream. Bright agony spreads like a cancer though his burning skin, deep into his flesh where the flamefae fluid is, the feverbright liquid that burns.

If he inhales, he’ll set his throat on fire and die.

So he rolls, and sinks bright teeth into his cheek until the flesh rips, but he doesn’t scream, and when at last he reaches a puddle of rainwater he thrashes like a bathing tomcat until the goddamn flames go out.

He drags in a blessedly cool breath, and at last screeches in desperate agony.

Fuck, it hurts.
His skin screams when he tries to move, tight and swollen and sloughed away like wet decay. His ruined wings jerk, melted nerves haywire. He forces his eyes open, and they sting like motherfuckers, but they still work.

He flops panting on his face in the puddle, sizzling the dirty rain-water to steam. His claws scrape the concrete weakly. Fuck her. Setting him on fire like that. Christ, he must look a sight. He hurts all over, and he can’t tell where the damage is, can’t tell if his face is intact or not.

Dehydration already shrivels his guts, all his moisture rushing to weeping skin that can no longer contain it. He laps weakly at the puddle, scraping his tongue on the concrete, but it’s not enough. If he stays like this, he’ll die.

He closes his eyes, and his glamour pops weakly like a thinning bubble. Without his looks, life won’t be worth living anyway. Sad but true.

He laughs, the pain rampant but somehow sweet. Poor Icy. No cure, if there ever was one anyway. And poor Azure, seduced by a demoness, her fragile confidence shattered.

Anger flares hot inside him, whetting the pain sharper, and he groans. If he were whole, he’d chase after them right now and chew that demon bitch’s heart out for them. They’re his girls. He’d die for them, even though his life’s not worth a damn. Even though Az hates him, and Ice loves someone else. Dying to save them might make his sorry life worthwhile.

If he were whole.

Cuts fade from inked brown skin in his memory, and hope sparks faintly in his heart. He knows a guy who’s into making things whole. Akash, his weird new boyfriend. And he’s got something Akash wants. He knows where the mirror is, or at least where Az is taking it.

He promised the creepy fucker already, when he thought he’d end up like that poor Indra girl. But he’s paid for that favor in full. Surely Akash’ll give him one more.

Swap swap. Snap. Gotta be better than a spriggan’s toothy blow job. At least Akash didn’t bite.

A laugh ravages Blaze’s throat, and resolve hardens like cooling steel in his heart. He’s not good for much. But he loves his girls, and he’s good at pain. Easy peasy. Walk in the park.

He clenches burned muscles, ignoring the panicked chemical rush in his blood, and levers his body up from the ground, inch by agony-rapt inch.

A
few suburbs away in another dark alley, an ancient vampire sighs one last sticky breath and stops struggling. The gaping wound in her throat spurts weakening scarlet jets. Her black hair tangles wet on the bricks, blood spreading in a red circle that glints silver in rising moonlight.

“Excellent.” Kane stretches his hands, and bloodstains and grime vanish in a puff of hellish steam. He scratches a little stain from his ring, and flicks his fingernail clean. Three DiLucas in one night. Good work.

Angelo slumps against the wall, panting, his white shirt soaked crimson under black leather. He wipes his dripping mouth, sweat gleaming in his dark curls. “Fucking DiLuca bitch. Tastes like shitty Calabrian red.” He retches, and dark clots like abortions spew from his lips.

Vampire reflux. Serve him right for gluttony, for doing it all himself when he has minions. Still, every now and then you have to get dirty.

Kane checks his watch. It’s late. Akash. Ebony never called back. He should check things out. He tugs his cuffs straight, adjusts his tie, plucks a stray strand of vampire hair from his sleeve. “Leave the body. Let them find it. Tomorrow we’ll talk.”

LaFaro slips from the shadows, lean and lizardlike in silhouette, and offers a towel. Angelo blots himself clean, still coughing, his voice ragged. “Sure. Nice one. Appreciate the help. Oh, and if you see that succubus of yours? Smack her up for me, will you?”

Sparks flash over Kane’s palms, and he digs sharp claws in to keep himself calm. “What?”

“She’s a mouthy little whore. You should keep her under better control. You know she’s banging her incubus pal every chance she gets?”

“No, she isn’t.” But he knows it’s true. Knows the girl he wants is with her lover now, kissing, sighing, pleasuring. Sour denial crusts Kane’s teeth with ash, and green sparks burst from his clenched fist to shower the ground.

Angelo laughs, fangs flashing, and tosses away the sodden towel. His dark eyes glint with gleeful malice. “Whatever you say, man. If it quacks and flaps and shits green on your doorstep, it’s probably a fucking duck, okay?”

Rage crackles ice into Kane’s hair. “Leave her. She’s mine.” And he stalks off toward the neon-lit street, his teeth springing sharp. Flame licks his wrists to the elbow. He’s not used to being denied. Already the black satisfaction of DiLuca suffering fades. His knuckles itch again to fight, tame, destroy.

And there’s a flower-stinking white pest who definitely has it coming.

Growling, he flings his impatient shade into the air on hate-filled black wings.

26

L
ike my dungeon?”

The demon lady grinned down at me and tossed the mirror from hand to purple-clawed hand. Sleek wine-red hair tumbled down to her freckle-dusted brown shoulders, and her long coppersilk dress glinted with diamonds.

I wriggled on my bottom, my hands cuffed tight behind me, a balcony railing warm and knobbly against my bare back. My wings poked between iron bars, ruffling in warm night breeze, and below, the city glittered wild like a treasure cavern. This wasn’t a dungeon. It was a penthouse.

Water trickled on the wall from a river-stone fountain, and soft wind chimes pealed beside an artificial flower bed. The tinted glass door lay open to the summer night, and inside, soft pale carpet graced the floor under golden downlights, window to full-length window. The ceiling gleamed spotless white, the kitchen sparkling steel. No furniture. No stuff. Empty, like she hadn’t moved in yet. I rattled my cuffs and kicked my bare feet. “Yeah. It’s real nice. Fuck you.”

Delilah wrinkled her upturned nose, ice glittering on red lashes. Breeze toyed with her gown. “Defiance. How boring. I hoped you’d cringe at least a bit.”

I spat at her. Beside me, Azure struggled and wept in her own shackles, dark blood dripping from her nose onto her grimy white dress. Delilah hadn’t kept that promise to her. My head still ached like a fever from Az’s poison breath—she’d gotten that foul trick from Delilah, no doubt—and I wanted to strangle her. But I wanted to hug her, too.

A door slammed inside, and uneven footsteps slapped on tiles. Joey DiLuca limped out, leaning on his brass-topped cane, hat tilted rakishly over green eyes. Behind him, Mina dragged a kicking blue-and-silver bundle by the wrist, torn blue hair ragged on her shiny black shoulder.

My blood curdled thick and cold.

Joey tipped his hat at Delilah, stretching bloodless lips in a grin. “Present for you.”

Mina hurled her bundle to the floor. Silvery blood splatted on her tight leather pants.

Indigo choked on black tiles, his bruised blue muscles straining against the kind of red neon rubbery restraints they use in cop shows. The kind that get tighter the more you struggle. The kind with no metal in them whatsoever.

She’d tied his wrists. His ankles. His arms, by wrapping it around his wings. He couldn’t move.

“Excellent.” Delilah laughed, clapping long brown hands, and waved Joey away.

Joey just tapped his cane on the tiles, unblinking. “Your promise.”

Delilah’s brows lifted ingenuously. “Hmm?”

“The thief for a moment of your time. Don’t fuck with my goodwill, demon lady.”

She chuckled softly and tweaked his nose with her thumb to a defensive banshee growl. “You’ve got guts, Joey DiLuca—that’s for sure. Well, I suppose one from two isn’t bad. We’ll talk, eh?” She motioned him away again, and this time he inclined his narrow head and hobbled away, Mina stalking in his wake.

And Delilah turned her lickerish grin back to me.

I wobbled loose-jointed thumbs, but the tight iron stung ruts in my wrists, and I couldn’t get free.

On the floor, my beautiful metal fairy writhed and spat blood. “Leave her the fuck alone.”

I searched for titanium’s telltale rainbow glint and swallowed. Left hand. Indigo.
Christ, don’t hurt him. Even if he’s Ebony, I don’t want him hurt. Do I?

I yanked my shackles hard against the railing, and frustration and fear cut my voice sharp. “Come on. Punch me, rip my wings off, tear my claws out, whatever. Just get it over with.”

“Patience, petal. Oh, do those hurt? Are they too tight?” Delilah pursed bow-shaped lips, clicking her tongue. “Such a silly piece of metal. But so far away. What a pity he can’t get up.”

She spun away and kicked him in the ribs with a high-heeled foot, eliciting a wet wheeze and a laugh. My stomach squelched to hear him. She kicked him again. I strained against my cuffs, and a defiant yell clambered up my throat. I choked it back, but too late.

Delilah rounded on me, grass-green eyes glinting with laughter. “You two make me spew.” Her voice squeaked up in mocking imitation. “ ‘Oh, don’t hurt him. Leave her alone. Please.’ Who the fuck is that down there anyway? The thief or the murderer? Perhaps I’ll just suck you both up like little fairy milk shakes.” She brandished the mirror grandly, and petals flashed open with a snap.

My heart quailed. The mirror was dead. Blaze only patched it up. When Delilah found out, she’d kill us all.

But a bright crystal whisper hissed in joyful circles around us, and Delilah peered into the glass and showed perfect white teeth. “Why, hello, beautiful.”

I gaped. No way. Blaze did better than he thought.

“Come now, don’t be like that.” She clicked her tongue, and the mirror warbled, conciliatory. “That’s better. You hungry, pet?”

The mirror giggled.

“Of course you are. What say you to some fairy stew? Hmm, light blue, dark blue, or yellow? Quite a selection.”

Indigo spat shining mercury blood. “Don’t you fucking dare turn that thing on her.”

Delilah laughed, sparks dancing scarlet in her hair to be swept away by the breeze. “Or what, metalshit? You’ll curse at me some more? Already too late for you, or I’d shove the fucking thing up your nose and watch you reflect. Perhaps you can choose what’s on the menu instead. How’d you like that?”

Indigo struggled, silverfoil wings crackling. “You’ve got what you wanted. Let them go.”

She squatted, her coppery gown pooling, and yanked his black-metal hair back to snap her teeth in his face. “Oh, but I don’t have what I want yet. I want your blood, shitworm. But I want your agony first. Teach you to steal from me.” She slammed his head down on the tiles and strode back toward me. “On second thoughts, I like him better helpless. You.” She pointed a sparking purple claw an inch from my eyeball. “Choose.”

I stammered. “What?”

“Choose, you vacant fairy whore. Choose whose soul gets eaten by our little friend.” She waved the chuckling mirror in front of my face. “Oh, and you can’t choose yourself. That’d be cheating.”

Azure sobbed. “You promised me.”

I didn’t know whether she meant me or Delilah. My heart bled for Az. It wasn’t her fault she wasn’t the smartest cookie, and the mirror had fooled us all, not just Az. I lifted my chin, defiance blazing in my blood, and stared the demon queen down. “Kill me now, you maniac. I’m not doing it. Fuck you.”

Delilah winked at me. “You know what? I’ve a better idea. How about . . . your cure?”

I gaped, and before I could stop it, the word spilled out, fresh with hope. “What?”

“Ha! Knew that’d get your attention. How about a game before bed? Poor handsome thing’s tired, you see.” She stroked the humming mirror happily, wrinkling her sharp nose at her reflection. “Only get one cure out of him tonight. Ever, I should think. So who’s it gonna be, slut? You can even pick yourself, if you like.”

Horror clawed at my bones. I managed a laugh. “Oh, yeah, right. And then you’ll kill everyone else. Don’t think so.”

She made a shocked face. “I’m hurt. Truly. No, I believe I’ll set you all free. Should be good for a laugh. Whaddaya say, metalshit?”

Indigo howled like a wounded cat, static crackling in rings on the tiles around him.

I struggled uselessly against the sharp shackles. She did this to torment him. She knew I couldn’t waste the cure on myself. Not with my friends counting on me. If I chose poor Az—if I left Indigo as he was—he’d never have peace, either of him. Ebony would keep killing. And if I cured him . . .

Tears spilled onto my face, and my heart tore. If I cured him, poor heartsick Ebony would die. I’d still be crazy. So would Az. So would Blaze, if he was still alive. And Indigo would lose part of himself forever. Who could love a girl who’d killed part of him? Even if that part was a murderer.

I choked back full-on sobs. When did this get so damn hard?

I remembered his eyes as we loved, the warmth, the tenderness of his touch on my face. Cool clarity washed over me, scrubbing my mind clear for the first time in a very long while.

I’d felt so close to him, like we were one. I’d given him my heart, and I couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened, even if things ended badly.

So if I really loved him, what did that mean?

It meant I couldn’t let him suffer for me. I couldn’t let Ebony kill any more innocents for me. I could give Indigo his life back, everything he wanted most desperately, and if that meant Azure would never forgive me and I’d die crazy and unloved, then so be it.

Easy, really.

A shadow shook feathery wings and flapped away, and light shone on my heart.

I sniffled to clear my nose, and stared Delilah directly in those cruel emeraldine eyes. I lifted my elbow as far as the shackles would allow, and pointed. “Him. Cure him.”

Sorry, Az.

Indigo cracked his head into the stone, over and over, clenching a scream between stained silver teeth. “Don’t, Ice! For god’s sake. Please.”

But too late.

Delilah smiled, beautiful and triumphant. “How sweet of you. Hear that, rustybrains? She’ll drive herself mad for you. She’ll die for you, and not a damn thing you can do about it. Sound familiar?”

My throat ached, and my heart hurt like I’d run for miles. His dead girlfriend all over again. And I’d brought it on him with my stupid shiny things.

Indigo growled like a panther and thrashed, still trying to break free. But the red rubber stuff just cut tighter into his flesh.

Delilah laughed. The greedy glass murmured, shining wickedly in her hand, catching the electric light and magnifying it. “Steal this, you fucking maggot.” And she stepped over him like a hunter straddling a corpse, and flashed the mirror in his eyes.

I
ndigo screams, the light searing his eyes like acid on sandpaper. The gnawing beast in the mirror is unshackled now, and it’ll never give up. Never let go.

His vision erupts white like burning film. Sour coppery vomit spills into his mouth and chokes him. The horrid plastic rips into his jerking muscles. Bloody talons claw for his consciousness, only it’s not Ebony but the mirror, the cursed fucking mirror trying to eat his soul. Cure be damned. The thing will consume him and spit him out twisted, blackened, diseased. Whatever Ice did to the mirror to fix it, the monster inside’s gone insane.

Dimly he hears Delilah’s hellish cackle, and his heart screams, too. She’s getting what she wants, the sly demon trickster. He knows she’ll torment Ice to death, torture and scrape and burn until his lovely strawberry girl melts away, and it hurts him deeper than his own agony could ever sink.

Deep under his skin, Ebony spits and claws in screaming rage, fighting the screeching mirror off.

Indigo thrashes helpless wings. Should’ve kept away from her. Should’ve gone home and jerked off and never dreamed of loving her. Too late. He’s done it again. She’s suffering because of him, and he won’t have it.

Even if it is her choice.

The thought streaks through him, almost too faint to hear.

No way. It’s his fault. And there’s only one way to make it right.

Channel the rage. Accept the darkness. Set his monster free. Ebony has no doubts, no cowering conscience. Ebony’s fury is unstoppable. If anyone can put an end to Delilah’s sadistic plots, it’s Eb. Already Indigo’s writhing shadow can taste hellblood.

Ice will hate him—worse, despise him—but at least she’ll be alive. And at least, for a few precious moments, he had her heart.

With claws of frigid metal will, Indigo grabs his own sanity and rips it open.

The cage inside his head ruptures. Mental bones crack like spread-eagled ribs, and hell bursts out.

Switch.

Ebony yowls in agony, scrabbling in vain to cover his ravaged eyes with rubber-shackled hands too far away. Trapped bloodflow slashes razors in his limbs. The dazzling white thing in the mirror taunts him, screams at him, tempts him to come, come and be slaughtered, but he can’t, he won’t, not while Ice lives.

She doesn’t love him. He knows now she never will. But he can still set her free.

Hatred arcs like lightning in his heart, crackling electric loathing he’s bottled up for years, and he releases one last defiant scream and lets the voltage explode.