Serpent & Dove (Serpent & Dove, #1)(96)

When had I become one of them—but worse than both? At least the Dames Blanches and Chasseurs had chosen a side. Each stood for something, yet I stood for nothing. A coward.

All I’d wanted was to feel the sun on my face one last time. I hadn’t wanted to die on that altar. If that made me a coward . . . so be it.

“With your sacrifice, we’ll reclaim our homeland.” She stepped closer as if sensing my hesitation, wringing her bloody hands. “Don’t you understand? We’ll rule Belterra again—”

“No,” I objected, “you will rule Belterra. I will be dead.”

Her chest heaved with passion. “Think of the witchlife you’ll save by your sacrifice!”

“I can’t allow you to slaughter innocent people.” My voice quieted with resolve. “There has to be another way—”

My words faltered as Reid rose to his knees in my periphery. The witch’s face wasn’t wholly human as she turned to look at him—as she lifted her hand. I felt the unnatural energy shimmering between them, sensed the death blow before she struck.

I flung a hand toward him desperately. “No!”

Reid flew aside—eyes widening as my magic lifted him—and the witch’s black energy blasted through the wall instead. But my relief was short-lived. Before I could reach him, she’d darted to his side and pressed the knife to his throat, reaching into his coat to withdraw something small. Something silver.

I stared at it in horror. A vicious smile split her face as he struggled. “Come here, or I’ll slit his throat.”

My feet moved toward her without hesitation. Instinctive. Though leaden, though suddenly clumsy and stiff, they knew where I had to go. Where I’d always been destined to go. Since birth. Since conception. If it meant Reid would live, I would gladly die.

Chest heaving, Reid stared resolutely at the floor as I approached. He didn’t flee when the witch released him, didn’t move to stop her when she stabbed the quill into my throat.

I felt it pierce my skin as if I were in another’s body—the pain disconnected, somehow, as the thick liquid congealed in my veins. It was cold. The icy fingers crept steadily down my spine—paralyzing my body—but it was nothing compared to the ice in Reid’s gaze as he finally looked at me.

That was the ice that pierced my heart.

I slumped forward, eyes never leaving his face. Please, I silently begged. Understand.

But there was no understanding in his eyes as he watched my body fall to the floor, as my limbs began to spasm and twitch. There was only shock, anger, and . . . disgust. Gone was the man who had knelt before me and gently wiped my tears away. Gone was the man who had held me on the rooftop, who had laughed at my jokes and defended my honor and kissed me under the stars.

Gone was the man who had claimed to love me.

Now, there was only the Chasseur.

And he hated me.

Tears tracked through the blood on my face to the floor. It was the only outward sign that my heart had cleaved in two. Still Reid did not move.

The witch lifted my chin, piercing my skin with her fingernails. Black hovered at the edges of my vision, and I struggled to remain conscious. The drug swirled in my mind, tempting me with oblivion. She bent down to my ear. “You thought he would protect you, but he’d tie you to the stake himself. Look at him, Louise. Look at his hatred.”

With enormous effort, I raised my head. Her fingers loosened in surprise.

I looked directly into Reid’s eyes. “I love you.”

Then I blacked out.





Oblivion


Lou


When I woke, I was vaguely aware of the floor moving beneath me—and a long, lean pair of arms. They wrapped around my waist, holding me close. Then came the throbbing pain of my throat. I clasped a hand to it, feeling fresh blood.

“Lou,” a familiar voice said anxiously. “Can you hear me?”

Ansel.

“Wake up, Lou.” The floor still shifted. Something crashed nearby, followed by a thunderous boom. A woman cackled. “Please wake up!”

My eyes fluttered open.

I was sprawled on the floor behind the bed with my head in Ansel’s lap, a syringe discarded beside us.

“It’s the antidote,” he whispered frantically. “There wasn’t enough for a full dose. He’s losing, Lou. The witch—she blasted the door. His Balisarda flew into the corridor. You have to help him. Please!”

He’s losing.

Reid.

Adrenaline spiked through me, and I sat up quickly, coughing on the dust pervading the air. The world spun around me. Reid and the witch had decimated the room; holes had been blasted through the floor and walls, and the desk and headboard lay in splinters. Ansel dragged me out of the way as a chunk of mortar crashed to the floor where my legs had been.

Reid and the witch circled one another in the center of the room, but Reid appeared to be having difficulty moving. He gritted his teeth, forcing his muscles to obey as he swung my knife at the witch. She darted easily out of reach before flicking her fingers once more. Reid inhaled sharply as if she’d struck him.

I struggled to my feet. Darkness still swirled in my vision, and my limbs were as clumsy and heavy as Reid’s. But it didn’t matter. I had to stop this.

Neither acknowledged me. The witch thrust her hand forward, and Reid dove out of the way. The blast leveled the wall instead. A sadistic smile played on her lips. She was toying with him. Toying with the man who’d burned her sister.