Strange and Ever After (Something Strange and Deadly #3)(68)

Together, we descended the pyramid. Our boots scraped on the stones. The sun seared into our scalps, into our faces, while the wind carried away Oliver’s chanting.

But I felt my demon’s magic, so pure and gentle in my chest. He was tired—drained from the hell I put him through—yet he did as I had commanded, and each word he uttered pulsed through my veins.

And it made me strong.

Far to the south, small mounds poked up against the horizon . . . and a white dot floated above. Marcus. East was the Nile, a mirror of molten crimson. Sails moved along it like gliding gulls, and seas of orange grass fanned out along the banks as far as I could see.

My fingers closed and opened with each step. Curling, unfurling, and back again.

Why had Marcus done all this? Why had he pulled our strings like this?

So he can raise the Black Pullet.

But again, why? Were immortality and wealth worth all this planning and puppeteering?

“Empress?”

I looked down, my vision spotted and broken from the sun. Daniel was waiting for me, but his gaze was leveled high. On Jie.

“She’ll be fine,” I said to him, resuming my steady shamble. “Trust Oliver.”

“That’s exactly it.” Daniel’s lips twisted down. “I don’t trust Oliver—any more than I trust a Wilcox. And I don’t understand how you can.” He spoke with such venom that I knew he only wanted a target—a focus for his rage.

“Oliver is saving her life,” I said wearily, hopping down the next level. And then the next. “Come on. We have a balloon to follow.”

“You could show some goddamned concern,” Daniel snapped. “My best friend is bleedin’ to death from a bullet I put in her leg. Sorry if I’m a little distracted from your revenge.”

I slowed to a stop, my teeth grinding as I wrenched my gaze back to him. “I am concerned, Daniel. She is my best friend too, but we need to get the airship ready now or we will never catch up to Marcus.”

“I don’t give a damn about Marcus!” He vaulted easily to my level, his face lined with pain. “That’s your mission. Not mine.”

“My mission?” I threw my hands wide. “I’m not the only one who wants Marcus’s blood. Joseph, Jie—they want their revenge just as much as I.”

“No. You’re wrong.” Daniel stalked closer. “It’s just you. You and your demon have poisoned everyone—”

“And did we poison you?” I thrust a finger at him. “Or are you so enamored by Joseph you simply follow everything he does?”

“Do not,” Daniel snarled, “say that to me.” He advanced on me, and I shrank back. Never had I seen him look so angry. “Joseph is the most honorable person in this entire world, and the day I met him was the day my life turned around. Even if you and that demon and that . . . that ivory thing have poisoned Joseph’s thoughts, I will still follow him. To the grave.”

For a long breath, Daniel’s green eyes bored into mine. Unrelenting and absolutely terrifying. But then his breath burst out, and his shoulders sank. “I don’t want to fight. Not with you.” He turned away, and as he padded down the final level to hit the sand, he called out, “But please think about it, Empress. This is what Marcus wants. If he’s really one step ahead—and he sure has been so far—then he’s expecting us to give chase. He’ll be waitin’ for us. Again. Just consider that, Empress. Think about what it means.” Daniel shoved his hands into his pockets and hurried toward the airship.

And I watched him go, his words skating through my mind—leaping, twirling . . . and finally settling like silt on the bottom of a pond.

Because Daniel was right. If we followed Marcus, we walked directly into what he wanted.

I screwed my eyes shut and thought back to my earlier question: why did Marcus go to such great lengths?

It wasn’t simply for immortality and wealth. If all Marcus cared about was the Black Pullet, then he easily could have killed us in Marseille or just now, in the pyramid. For that matter, Allison could have sabotaged us at any point before now and claimed the ivory fist.

I popped my eyes wide, casting my gaze on the airship. It floated, unharmed and safe—ready to fly at a moment’s notice.

So what was the one thing Marcus wanted more than anything?

Swiveling my head, I peered back up the pyramid. At Joseph. He sat bowed over Jie; his face was pale with worry while Oliver continued a tired chant.

And as he always did, Joseph scratched at his bandages. They were now filthy with grit and sweat.

Your blood is very strong. That was what Madame Marineaux had said when she cut off his ear. And when my master learns whom I have killed. Oh, how pleased he will be.

I wet my lips, remembering one of the first things Marcus had done after taking Elijah’s body: he had asked me where Joseph was. He and I have unfinished business, Marcus had said, and I intend to settle it.

“Marcus wants Joseph,” I murmured. My head tipped to one side. The breeze carried strands of hair across my vision. “He wants his blood—and he has since the beginning.”

But it was not only Joseph’s blood he craved—no. It had to be something Allison wanted too. . . .

Revenge.

I had known it all along, yet until this moment I had never considered how far a person would go for vengeance.