Soul Bound (43 page)

“I did drown him,” she lied. “I refused to see my kid born and raised in blood. I may be soulless, but I still have access to my conscience.”

His disconcerting stare refused to waver from her face. Of all the Watchers, Marcus was the only one who seemed to know how to read her. Even Cal was clueless when it came to the inner workings of her mind. He thought she was a flake with a knack for fighting, and that was exactly what she wanted him—and everyone else—to believe.

But Marcus saw beyond that. Sometimes she wondered if he could tell she felt more than the others, that she wasn’t as numb inside as she let on.

“I saw you fighting side by side today,” he told her. “You move the same way. And the look on your faces, it’s identical.”

“It’s called determination, and you’re just as guilty of it.”

“You know what I mean.” He continued studying her with that analytical gaze of his. “He’s got your mouth.”

She shook her head. “And what business do you have looking at my mouth?”

Her words drew his attention to her lips, and she regretted having voiced them. “Cal never said we couldn’t look.”

“Didn’t you read your contract? It’s in the fine print.”

“Is it? I must’ve missed that part.”

Heat curled in her belly, and she gave him a friendly slap. “You’re delirious. Now stop distracting me and let me help you get back on your feet.”

“Did I ever tell you that you have a stubborn streak a mile long?”

“Every goddamn day.”

Energy vibrated between their joined palms as they called upon their lost souls to refuel. Souls that were oddly in tune, though neither resided in their chests.

When the aftershocks of the earthquake ceased and the dust finally settled, a comforting veil of silence fell to blanket them.

“Impressive.” Athanatos’s silky voice echoed through the gothic chamber. “No one has ever taken down one of my walls before. Perhaps you truly are
special.
” He spat out the word
special
like it was something repulsive that had crawled into his mouth and died.

Jace brought his palm to rest on the hilt of his sword, but his gaze remained centered on Lia. “Did he hurt you?” The deep gash he noted on her forehead chilled him. Her clothing was covered in blood.

She shook her head. “Physically, no. The blow to the head was Diane’s doing.” Her eyes betrayed her pain. The sparkle was gone. Her essence sputtered around her like a broken halo. For the first time since he’d met her, she looked defeated.

Jace fisted his hands, fury swamping him. “What did you do to her?” His voice shook as he withdrew his sword and pointed it at Athanatos, who stood beside Lia, as poised as a rattlesnake about to strike.

“I didn’t do this. You did. I made her see you for what you truly are.” Athanatos’s face beamed with twisted satisfaction. “She knows you now, has glimpsed into the ugliest, most pathetic corners of your soul. In time, that knowledge will grow like a cancer until it destroys her.”

With an enraged growl, Jace lunged at the creature, but the Ancient immobilized him with a raise of his hand. Snake-like ropes spun around Jace, then solidified to stone. “Did you really think it would be that easy to incapacitate me?”

Jace thrust against his bindings, but it was no use. He couldn’t break them, so he focused on the stone ropes enveloping him instead. Again, he was able to manipulate the electrons and protons resonating around him, and the ropes melted away.

“All right, you’ve proven your point,” Athanatos said. “You can see the universe on a subatomic level. A rare gift, indeed.”

In a flash, the Ancient appeared before him, delivering a well-aimed blow to his solar plexus and prying the sword from his hand. Shocked, Jace stumbled back.

“Unfortunately for you, it is a gift I, too, possess. Who do you think shaped these tunnels?” They were nose to nose now, the Ancient bending over to stare into Jace’s eyes. “I am the architect of this world.”

“Guess it’s my turn to be impressed.” Jace didn’t attempt to conceal the sarcasm in his voice. “Now do me a favor and back off.”

He expected Athanatos to follow his command, but the Ancient leaned closer. “You self-important little punk.” A disgusting spray of spittle misted across Jace’s face. “Your tedious mind games don’t work on me.”

This wasn’t good. Not good at all. He’d been counting on his hypnotic charm to get him and Lia out of here. Now he had to try his hand at bargaining. “Look, you got what you wanted.” He slanted a glance Lia’s way, and the sight of her tore another strip out of him. “You got me. So you can set her free.”

“And why would I do that? So you can use her against me?” The Ancient raised the sword he’d wrestled from Jace and aimed it at his heart.

“No.” Lia tugged frantically at the shackles binding her wrists to the bed. Channeling his thoughts, Jace disintegrated her bonds the way he had his own. “Run,” he told her. “Get out of here.”

No sooner had Jace uttered the words that the stone floor rose to meet the ceiling and the door vanished, trapping them all inside. When Jace attempted to vaporize the wall this time, he failed.

“This one’s not as easy to take down, is it?” Athanatos snarled.

Jace met the creature’s flat stare and fought to ensnare his mind again. “I command you to set her free.” Weakness suddenly clawed at him, and he teetered off balance. Streaks of yellow light spilled from the sconces to blur his vision.

“The more you attempt to possess my mind, the more you’ll weaken yourself.” Athanatos’s voice boomed through the cavernous space entombing them, a distant echo in Jace’s head.

Ignoring the warning, Jace concentrated harder. “Let. Her. Go.” Lethargy gripped him, enveloped him like a wet blanket. His legs turned to rubber. He fell to his knees, as the room continued to spin around him like a merry-go-round gone wild. Athanatos lowered the blade until it hovered an inch from his throat.

Lia’s gasp bordered on a sob.

“I’ve existed for nearly six millennia,” the Ancient growled. “I’ve bested angels. I even survived the wrath of God Himself, the Great Flood. Do you really believe I’ll allow a worm like you to be the end of me?”

“I never said I was the chosen one,” Jace muttered. “You did.”

Athanatos’s face contorted into a grimace Jace barely recognized. “Even now, powerless, with a blade to your throat, you refuse to yield.”

He couldn’t yield. Not as long as Lia’s life hung in the balance.

The air began to hum with an energy that was soothingly familiar. A burst of radiance inundated the chamber, throwing Athanatos off balance and wresting the sword from his grip. Lia was at the heart of the glow. Every inch of her was ablaze. Her light reached for Jace, enveloped and revitalized him. The blinding energy shook the Ancient’s concentration, and the wall he’d erected in front of the door collapsed.

If Jace could just get Lia to that door…

He hastened to retrieve his sword, wasn’t quick enough.

Athanatos recovered, seizing him by the throat and pinning him to the wall. “This time, I believe the angels got it wrong. It is you who will perish in this room.”

Athanatos’s grip was as solid as the stone he wielded. Shadows fringed Jace’s vision, and his sword clattered to the floor. Any second now he feared his head would snap right off. Maybe the Ancient was right. Maybe the angels really had gotten it wrong.

“Go, Lia. Run now that he’s distracted.”

A sudden crash resounded in the chamber. Athanatos loosened his hold and turned on Lia, who stood behind him, shards of porcelain scattered around her feet. Instead of running as Jace had hoped, she’d smashed a heavy vase on Athanatos’s back.

The Ancient took a few predatory steps toward her, his long cape hissing across the floor. Panic, cold and clammy, slithered down Jace’s spine. He fell to his knees, scrambled for his sword. Lia scuttled back until she touched the wall.

Athanatos gripped her by the jaw and lifted her so that her feet no longer touched the ground. “I would snap your neck if I didn’t fear your soul would seek refuge in his chest.” He swiped at her tears with the pad of his thumb. “Luckily I won’t have to.” He lowered his head toward her mouth, growled in triumph. “You’re ready.”

Then his lips ruthlessly crushed hers.

Chapter Forty-One

Regan’s healing touch sent a slow flow of heat coursing through Marcus’s blood, renewing his strength. The gash on his side shrank, then disappeared altogether. Two hundred years later he was still amazed at the regenerative power of the Watchers’ bond. The blood vow had saved him, time and time again, in more ways than one.

“Looks like you’re feeling better.” Regan smiled, releasing his hands.

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

“Make that a hundred. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve saved your reckless butt.”

He pushed himself to his feet. “The way I remember it, I’ve returned the favor a time or two.”

Regan swiped back her wild tumble of hair and brought her hands to rest upon her hips. “As much as I’d like to stay here and argue with you, I’m afraid I’m sorely needed elsewhere.”

Marcus yanked out a stone from the crumbled wall, then another. “Go ahead. I’ll get out the old-fashioned way.”

When he glanced back, she was gone. He shook his head. The damn woman was as tangible as the wind.

One rock at a time, he carved an opening in the rubble, big enough to squeeze through. Dust-speckled air greeted him on the other side. Pebbles scattered beneath his feet as he advanced.

He tried to get a lock on someone, anyone, but too many essences fought for his attention. His ability to zero in on signatures was actually a drawback down here, confusing him, setting him off track.

“Focus on the light,” he told himself. But the darkness was too deep.

He took a few aimless turns, hoping to come across Cal and the others. Unfortunately, an altogether different group of creatures accosted him. Careening around the corner, Kyros and his troops spilled into the tunnel Marcus occupied, surrounding him.

The firstborn raised a blood-drenched blade and aimed it at Marcus. “We meet again, old friend. Only this time, it appears the tables have turned.”

Lia’s lungs ached, but at the same time, an overwhelming sense of relief swept through her. She grew light, weightless, overcome by a liberating feeling similar to the one she’d experienced the few times she’d gone to confession, back when she was a kid. Pain, sadness, worry lifted, and for several heartbeats she felt stronger, finally at peace. The darkness rimming her vision was immeasurably soothing, like nightfall after a long, arduous day.

“I’m sorry, Jace. I must surrender to it.”

“Don’t. Fight him.”

“I can’t.”

The air rippled. The atmosphere changed abruptly. Before the darkness could fully claim her, the Ancient went catapulting across the sepulchral room. At first Lia thought it was Jace who’d pried him off her. Then she noticed the white wolf standing over the Ancient, its mercurial gaze riveted on him. Slowly the animal unfurled, its coat disintegrating to reveal the shape of a man.

Jace sat in a crouch, his fingers secured around the hilt of his sword, ready to pounce. When he recognized the intruder, the tension melted from his limbs. “Cal.” He shook his head in disbelief. “It was you. I should’ve known.”

His assertion perplexed her. How could he have known?

Athanatos recovered, bounding to his feet, arms fanning out on either side of him. Cal circled the Ancient in a feral prowl. “I’ve been waiting a very long time for this moment.”

Anticipation came into Athanatos’s eyes. “And is it everything you hoped?”

“Not yet. But it will be.” Cal sprang forth, looking every bit the warrior in his black battle gear, a broadsword strapped to his waist.

It all happened so fast. Everything became a tangled blur in Lia’s mind—Cal and Athanatos sparring, Jace rushing to her side to gather her in his arms, the earth rumbling beneath them.

Next thing she knew, Cal had Athanatos pinned to the ground, a blade pressed to his throat.

“Go ahead,” the Ancient challenged, not daring to move. “Kill me. Then your fall will be complete.”

Jace swept her off her feet and carried her to the door, but Lia’s gaze remained fixed on the scene unfolding over his shoulder.

Cal dug the tip of the blade into Athanatos’s flesh until it sizzled, but something held him back. “I have to do it. I have to undo all the wrong I’ve caused. For her.”

Despite his words, his hand wavered. Athanatos seized the advantage, hurtling Cal off him and projecting him across the room, next to the shattered vase. The Ancient streaked across the chamber, gripping one of the broken pieces and slicing Cal in the arm. Then he turned toward Jace.

“Jace, look out!” she screamed.

But Athanatos was too fast. With a triumphant howl, he buried the sharp wedge in Jace’s back, at the level of his heart.

The porcelain shard shouldn’t have pierced Jace’s skin, shouldn’t have driven him to his knees with her still secured in his arms. It shouldn’t have caused blood to gurgle in his mouth or the light in his eyes to dim. Not without first being dipped in angel’s blood.

And yet it did.

Lia looked at Cal, and everything suddenly made sense.

Desperation strangled her. She rolled Jace onto his stomach and yanked out the deadly shard. With nothing more than her bare palms, she fought to suppress the bleeding. This was how their journey had begun, but this wasn’t how it would end. It couldn’t be.

Tears stung her eyes. It was no use. The blood continued to gush like a geyser. Turning him on his back again, she felt for a pulse. His heartbeat had slowed to a crawl. The life had all but ebbed from his body, and there was nothing she could do to stop his steady slide into oblivion. Despite years of medical training, Lia was helpless.

Surrendering to grief, she bent over and wrapped tender arms around the man who’d doggedly carved his way into her soul, her hair fanning his face as she cradled him against her heart.

Chapter Forty-Two