Our Dark Duet (Monsters of Verity #2)(95)

The music couldn’t resurrect the dead, but every living soul went calm, enveloped by the Sunai’s spell.

Only the Chaos Eater moved.

It shuddered and twitched, struggling to hold its shape, trying to open a mouth that dissolved and reappeared and dissolved again, sealing its voice away. But as it strained against the music, it began to win. Its edges hardened, and the line of its mouth grew firm, and August knew there wasn’t much time.

The air around the monster cracked and split, dark lines thrown out like shards, the absence of a soul, cold and empty.

August rose to his feet, forcing himself forward.

He had reaped a Malchai’s soul, and it had nearly killed him.

He had reaped his brother’s, and it still fought inside him.

And as his fingers brushed the nearest shard, he wondered what would become of—

Something darted past him, quick as air.

A cloud of curls and a cluster of stars, swallowed up by smoke as Ilsa transformed.

Between one step and the next, she disappeared, replaced by a Sunai with curved horns and burning wings. A blue light, like the very center of a flame, glowed through Ilsa’s skin as she threw her arms around the Chaos Eater, and the room exploded in silver and shadow, two forces colliding in a way that shook the world.

August staggered, shielding his eyes.

When he looked again, the Chaos Eater was gone, and Ilsa stood alone in the center of the lobby floor.

Our sister has two sides, Leo had said. They never meet.

August had always imagined Ilsa’s true form as the opposite of her human one, cruel where she was kind, but as he stared into the Sunai’s black eyes, all he saw was his sister.

And as he watched, the smoke withdrew and her wings burned away, horns returning to red curls.

But her skin, which should have been smooth and starless, was cracking. Dark lines like deep fissures started on her hands and spread, up her arms and over her shoulders and across her face.

Ilsa looked up at August, and he saw the sadness in his sister’s eyes right before she broke apart and shattered on the floor.





Kate stumbled, her vision suddenly blurring, and when it came back into focus, the world was heavy and dull, the sharpness lost. Her limbs trembled, and her body ached, and the shadow in her head was gone.

And Alice was on her.

The Malchai caught Kate by the throat and slammed her back into the floor-to-ceiling windows. The glass cracked against her spine, the splinters spreading dangerously.

“What’s the matter?” taunted Alice. “Losing steam?”

Instead of trying to break free, Kate grabbed her by the collar and twisted hard, tipping the Malchai off-balance.

It bought her only an instant, just enough time to draw a breath and put what was left of the coffee table—a pile of shattered glass and broken wood—between them. Alice stepped over it with exaggerated care, and Kate retreated one pace, and then another.

She was running away.

And Alice knew it.

Her mind reeled as she tried to piece together a plan with the last of her strength.

A knife, slick with blood, sat on the counter.

Alice tsked. “Boring.”

But Kate lunged for it.

She almost made it.

Her fingers skimmed the metal before Alice caught her leg, nails sinking deep into her calf. Kate gasped in pain, an animal sound that seemed to stoke the Malchai’s bloodlust as she dragged her down to the floor. Kate twisted, rolling onto her back and swinging her boot across Alice’s face. The Malchai recoiled, and Kate scrambled up. She tried to ignore the blood running into her eyes, tried to ignore the mounting pain, tried to ignore everything but Alice’s red eyes glowing in the low light.

She flexed her fingers, too aware that her hands were empty. Halfway between them, an iron spike glinted on the floor, and Alice grinned, daring her to try to get there first.

Kate knew she wouldn’t—she was too slow without the monster in her head, and she was losing blood, losing strength, losing.

“I give up,” she said. “You win.”

The words caught Alice by surprise, which was exactly what Kate needed. She dove for the weapon. Alice moved a second later, but Kate’s hand had already closed around the spike and she turned, meeting the monster as the monster met her.

Kate drove the spike up into the Alice’s heart.

And Alice drove her hand into Kate’s chest.





August sank to his knees on the lobby floor.

There was nothing left of Ilsa, nothing but a small white pile of dust in a world of red, and he heard himself say her name over and over until the word lost meaning, until his voice faltered and broke. He reached out and drew his fingers through the ash.

Then he forced his hand to his comm, forced the words from his throat, forced his body to its feet as the music stopped playing and Soro reappeared, dark eyes going wide at the sight of so many stained souls. And moments later, the Night Squads poured in, and the living returned to themselves, and the Compound plunged into shock, and sorrow, and noise.

August started to retreat, and felt something crack beneath his heel. An abandoned tablet. He knelt to retrieve it, and saw it was still transmitting from the penthouse. The screen was dark, and the shot was empty. There was no sign of Alice. No sign of Kate.

No sign of life at all.

The tablet fell from his fingers.