A Darkness Strange and Lovely (Something Strange and Deadly #2)(74)

The moment was so strange and calm. The awful smells and blood everywhere seemed separate, as if I were viewing it all from afar. My heartbeat in my ears was nothing more than a distant drum, my ragged breaths a far-off breeze.

But the fragile calm was soon shattered. Footsteps hammered up the stairs and into the corpse-

laden hall.

“Demon!” Joseph shouted. “Demon!”

Chapter Seventeen

“Demon!” Joseph hissed. He stood over Oliver and me, a crystal clamp in his hand. Behind him stood Daniel, with a pistol—a real pistol—aimed at Oliver’s head.

“Eleanor,” Joseph said, “get away from that creature.”

“It’s fine,” I said tiredly.

“Non. He may look like a man, but he is not. He is a demon.”

Oliver wound his fingers around my arm. “She knows what I am.”

“Let her go!” Daniel barked.

When Oliver did not budge, Joseph lifted both hands. “I will blast you to the spirit realm.”

“No, you won’t.” Oliver’s fingers tightened. “I’m bound to Eleanor. Use that gadget, and you kill her too.”

“Silence!” Joseph roared. “I will not hear your lies.” He squeezed the clamp.

“Wait!” I screamed, lurching to my feet. “It’s true. Oliver is my demon.”

Joseph froze, and his face paled. “Non, non— it cannot be.”

“It . . . is.”

Daniel choked, and when I glanced at him, I saw horror rip over his face. Horror and betrayal.

Joseph stared at Oliver, his eyes as hard as stone. “What lies have you planted in her?” he growled.

“Show me your binding piece.”

“No lies.” A smugness settled on Oliver’s face. He stood and slipped out his locket. At that, Joseph’s eyes closed, and he finally lowered his hands.

Daniel, however, did not move. His pistol stayed trained on Oliver though his gaze was on me.

“Have you been bound to this thing the—” His voice cracked. “The whole time?”

“Yes. I had no choice, Daniel. Please, I—”

“It’s a monster.” Daniel’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Oliver isn’t a monster. He saved my life,” I added. “And Laure’s.”

Joseph and Daniel flinched, as if noticing the bloodied woman on the floor for the first time. Yet neither approached.

“Why?” Joseph demanded. His neck bulged. “Why would you bind to a demon?”

“You make it sound as if I set out to do it, but I did not.” I tipped up my chin. “As I have said over and over, I had no choice. Marcus sent the Hell Hounds after me.” I raised my right hand. “He had a spell on me, and the only way to survive was to bind to Oliver.”

“Why did you not tell me?” Joseph straightened to his full height, and his voice bellowed out. “I told you I thought a demon was responsible for les Morts! How, Eleanor, how could you hide a demon from me after knowing that?”

“Because Oliver is not the one raising les Morts.”

“How do you know that?” Daniel lowered the pistol, and I noticed that his hands trembled. His voice too. “And how do we know this creature isn’t the one raising the Dead?”

“Because I’m telling you it is not Oliver.”

“And you are a liar,” Joseph spat. “A liar and a necromancer. I should have seen it—you are no different than he.”

It was like a punch in the gut. He. Marcus. And for a split second my heart clenched . . . but then all regret vanished in a seething rush. After everything we had done together, after we had stood side by side against the Dead, after Joseph had seen what Marcus had done to my family, he thought I was no different? All my past loyalty had bought me nothing?

“No!” I spat. “No. I am not like Marcus. I am not the corrupt necromancer you so desperately want me to be.” My lips curled back. “Do not look at me like that—as if you do not understand what I mean. All you see, Joseph, is black or white, and I am sorry, but I do not fit into those lines.”

I drew back my shoulders. “Necromancy has not corrupted me, but Marcus has corrupted you and how you view the world. I am still Eleanor and the same girl I have always been. Only I’m stronger now. Stronger than you, Joseph, and stronger than your machines. I can use my magic—my necromancy— without turning into Marcus.”

“Is that what you think?” Joseph gave a growling laugh. “That you are somehow immune to the darkness inside you? You are not, Eleanor. You are only blind to it, and eventually it will take control.”

“And if it does take control?” I threw my arms wide. “So what? I don’t care—and you shouldn’t either. I am on your side! If this magic is the only way to stop Marcus, then so be it!”

“Is this truly what you believe, Eleanor?” Again Joseph laughed, his face twisted with disgust and his scars stretched taut. “You believe you are powerful enough to face Marcus? Do not mistake the feeling of strength for actual strength.”

“Tell yourself that,” Oliver snarled. “Tell yourself she’s weaker than you if it makes you feel less afraid. But know that it isn’t the truth. Eleanor is strong; and once she is trained, she will be as strong as a demon, as strong as Marcus, and certainly stronger than you.” He flourished a hand at the corpses littering the hall. “She raised these. All of these, and all by herself. The rats, the birds, the butler—it was all Eleanor’s magic.”