The Dark Calling (The Arcana Chronicles #5)(107)

Why stop there? Death had no armor . . . .

Expression baffled, Lark clambered back against a wall, her wolves staggering toward her. “What the hell?” Her red eyes sparked with realization. Her lips curled back, revealing her fangs. “Paul did it? He killed Finn! He made me burn . . . ah, God, I burned Finn.”

The wolves leapt upon the Hanged Man’s corpse, snatching at flesh, tearing him apart.

Crunch, crunch. Blood painted the walls, crimson spatter arcing over antiques and book spines. It pooled on the floor around Paul’s remains as the beasts fought over pieces.

The violence excited the red witch. As I sized up Lark, her eyes were laser-focused on the gore.

Jack lumbered toward me. “Hey, hey. Come back to me.” He pinched my chin and turned my face. “Lark’s been through enough. Come on, you can do this.”

I thrashed my head away. Nooo. Now awakened, the witch had no desire to yield. Evie a sliver of me! I can protect the baby better than anyone. We’re stronger like this.

“Come back to me, peek?n. The fight’s over.”

But it wasn’t. The monsters would just keep coming. And I couldn’t keep doing this without drowning in the well. “It’s better this way, Jack.” My voice even sounded different, breathy and evil.

I’d never felt so in line with the red witch, so unified. Maybe my split personality was melding. Maybe it should.

“I’m right here, bébé. You have to come back to me.”

With each second that I clashed against the witch for control, Lark seemed to be emerging from her own inner battle. Eyes lost, she gave a heartbreaking sob.

That sound was like an alarm going off inside me, warning me of danger.

I was the danger.

Damn it, Lark was my friend! I never wanted to hurt her. I peered up at Jack, holding his gaze, taking deep breaths.

The witch finally began to recede.

“Ma bonne fille, that’s it. You’ve got this.”

In time, I met eyes with Lark. “Are you with us again?” Her tableau appeared—right side up.

She nodded. “Yeah. I’m back now.”

I glanced out the window. The sphere had dissipated. The pall was gone, but had I gotten to the Hanged Man in time to stop Gabriel? “Can you see if Death is safe?”

Looking for him through her creatures, she said, “The boss is closing in fast.”

Relief overwhelmed me.

“I’m so sorry, Evie,” she said, tears welling. “For everything.”

“You couldn’t help it. It’s not your fault.”

“Great trick, by the way.” Her voice broke as she said, “F-Finn would’ve loved it.” She lurched away.

I hurried after her. “Lark, wait.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she held up her claw-tipped fingers to stop me. “Need to go lick my wounds. Alone.” Her gaze flitted past me to the blood. Was she staring at it hungrily? Red of tooth and claw. Maybe I wasn’t the only one wrestling with the heat of battle. “Just give me a t.o.” She turned once more. Her wolves followed her, severed limbs dangling from their jaws.

Jack grabbed my shoulder, enfolding me in his arms as much as the armor would allow. “Let her go. Finn’s death is probably hitting her for real for the first time.”

I couldn’t even comprehend how she must be feeling. Oh, wait—yes, I could.

Jack pulled off the helmet, setting it on Aric’s desk. “You okay? Can’t believe that bastard shot you.”

“Yeah.” I checked the wound. Regeneration was kicking in slowly. “It’s nothing. Already healing.”

“If Domīnija had been here, he could’ve prevented that.”

“It was close quarters. Are you okay?” Without that armor, he might have died.

“I’m good.” Jack drew back and started to remove the onyx pieces, piling them next to the helmet. Breastplate. Left armguard. “But I want this off me.” He reached down to unbuckle the last leg guard.

I frowned at the discarded armor. “That suit probably saved your life. Gabriel’s strike could’ve broken your back. At the very least, Scarface would have taken your arm.”

“Wearing this made me understand some things.” He straightened. “This suit isn’t just Death’s protection against the world; it’s the world’s protection against him—a cage. Domīnija told me I’d walk a mile in his shoes. I have. And inside this armor is the loneliest place I’ve ever been, the most separated from everything I’ve ever felt.”

I thought back to all the times I’d asked Aric to wear it. “He must hate it.” But he’d still worn it to allay my fears.

“Ouais.” For the first time, Jack’s attention strayed from me. Details of the study caught his eye, the books and scrolls, the scepters and crowns on display. His curiosity was clearly redlining. “So this is the Reaper’s lair. Mind-blowing, non? One thing to hear about it; another to see it inside. I was slack-jawed the whole way in. Almost forgot to act like an asshole to you.”

And now, by rights, the castle of lost time was his. Yet as much as I tried to picture living here with Jack, I couldn’t see it.

He must’ve picked up on my shift in mood. “You never intended to send Death packing, did you?”