Grave of Words (Fall of Under Book 2) Read online

  “I’m not pretending anything, little dove.” With a toothy grin, he laughed. “I think I lost my patience for playing the actor. I’m not manipulating you. But the rest is perfectly accurate.”

  “If you had the chance, you’d be in some nearby city, ripping people apart and eating their organs. You’d be expanding your army.” She tossed the sticks aside and picked up another, starting the process again. Something about snapping the bits off was oddly comforting.

  “Yup.” He stretched his legs out in front of him and groaned. “You have that right. But I’m patient.”

  “Patient.”

  “Mmhm. I’ll get free eventually. You can’t keep me prisoner forever. Sorry, darling, you just can’t. You’ll come to see things from my point of view. And then, you and I will tear down this world together.” His smile turned just a little fiendish. “And you’ll admit that you want me.”

  “I don’t want you.”

  He shrugged. “I’d be mad you were lying to me, but I think you’re lying to yourself too.” He yawned, revealing his sharp fangs. They weren’t extended, but they were still noticeable. “Actually, can we skip the poisoning tonight? I promise to be a good boy.” He lay down on his side as if to prove the point, watching her from the ground. “I’m starving, but…I…don’t think you’re in the mood.”

  “You’re asking me to trust you?”

  “I’m asking you to trust that I’m exhausted.” He shut his eyes. “We’ve both had royally fucked up weeks.”

  Chewing her lip for a moment, she let out a long breath. “Yeah. It’s fine. But if I wake up and you’ve murdered Cricket, I’m going to be pissed.”

  “No eating the horsie.” He was already mumbling as if he were already half asleep. She watched as his breathing slowly turned even, and he rolled onto his back, muttering something under his breath.

  Standing, she fished two of the spare shirts she had stolen from Aon’s estate and, folding them up, tucked them under Rxa’s head. He murmured and shifted, but he seemed to be asleep.

  She sat back down on the ground by her pack and, picking up a stick, poked at the fire, stirring up the coals. She wouldn’t sleep. She wouldn’t turn her back on him. She wouldn’t dare.

  I don’t trust him.

  But he was right. She was lying to herself. And poorly, she might add.

  She did want him. It was easy to recognize what he did to her when he was close. When he touched her—and he seemed to love touching her. When he bit her. Her cheeks went warm at the memory of how it felt. She was glad he had opted not to feed from her tonight. She didn’t know if she would have the ability to fight off whatever bizarre toxin in his bite made it feel like bliss.

  He was broken.

  A madman.

  A demigod.

  He was the enemy.

  It was wrong on every conceivable level.

  And yet? There it was. She deeply wished she had stolen alcohol from Aon. Something, anything, to calm her frazzled nerves. Putting her head in her hands, she settled in for a long night of staring at a fire.

  I’m going to get myself killed.

  But, hey…at least it’ll be an interesting death.

  Bright side to everything.

  Right?

  8

  Rxa awoke with a jolt. He grimaced in pain as it crawled over him like a swarm of angry insects, biting at his flesh. He looked down, expecting to see the creatures chewing away at his skin, but he saw nothing. The pain was in him.

  He was healing.

  But why did it have to hurt?

  And it itched!

  He tried to scratch it and let out a quiet grunt when he remembered his wrists were lashed to his waist. Turning his head, he rubbed his face into the fabric beneath his cheek. It helped. Where did this fabric come from? But it was a silly question. There was only one answer, as it was clear the stupid horse hadn’t put it there.

  Ember had folded up some of her clothing and tucked it under his head while he slept. The realization made something in his heart cinch. Smiling sadly, he snuggled his head into it and shut his eyes again. It wasn’t her clothing—it was whatever that cretin Aon had given her. But it smelled like her already, having been in her bag. A mix of strange herbs that he couldn’t identify, and something sweet beneath it. Like summer. Like wind. Like life.

  He wanted her.

  He wanted her very, very badly.

  But he did not know precisely why. That was what troubled him the most. Oh, sure—she was beautiful, resilient, compassionate, and intelligent. She was handling the nonsense of her situation with incredible poise, all things considered. But she was mortal. Fragile. Weak.

  And all of Under needed to die. With it would go her and all the other residents of Gioll who had found themselves thrust onto Under’s doorstep.

  He opened his eyes again, searching her out. The fire was burning low. Many, many hours had passed. Expecting to find her lying on her side somewhere asleep, he saw her kneeling instead by the smoldering coals.

  There were soot lines on her arms. Symbols she had drawn there with her fingers. She had her palms on her legs face up, her hands open, and he saw more of the odd writing there. Her eyes were shut, her black and white hair streaming down her shoulders.

  That line across her cheeks had returned. A single black swipe that crossed over her nose.

  A necklace lay in the dirt in front of her, splayed out so each medallion was face up in a row. He had seen it on her. It was clearly religious. She was, after all, a priestess for her dead gods. How I would have treasured you, had we met before. How I would have wrapped you in my wings and shown you such pleasure. You would have embraced me then. You never would have looked at me in horror or disgust.

  “What’re you doing?” He knew the answer. But he wanted to interrupt her.

  She jolted and opened her eyes to meet his gaze. “Praying.”

  “Why?” He rolled onto his back, keeping his head turned to watch her. “Why bother?”

  She shrugged. Her expression fell. Not that it had far to go. He had seen her nearly crack and shatter apart in front of him before he had fallen asleep. She had been on the verge of a panic attack several times so far. He sympathized. He wanted to join her. He wanted to hold her and whisper to her that everything would be okay.

  Because he would protect her.

  Finally, Ember answered him. “It gives me peace, I guess.”

  “What were you praying for?” He smirked. “For me to stop my war?”

  She shook her head. “No point. I was praying for strength.” She gathered up her necklace from the ground and slipped it back on, tucking the medallions under the neckline of her shirt. “I…feel mine wavering. That’s all.”

  Rxa sat up with a huff. “Come here, Ember.”

  “Why?”

  He reached for an answer. “I have an itch on my back, and I was wondering if you could scratch it for me.” He wiggled his hands, reminding her that he was tied up. It wasn’t a complete lie. He was very, very itchy. Stupid healing skin.

  She rose from her knees and moved to sit behind him on the log again. She scratched his back.

  “Up. Up. Left. Oh, right there.” He groaned. “Down…down…” He leaned into her. “So much better. Thank you.”

  She stopped, and before she could get back up, he leaned on her legs, resting his head in her lap. He felt her tense for a moment, and then slowly relax.

  “Did you sleep?” He nuzzled into her thigh.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I had to keep an eye on you.”

  “I told you I wasn’t going to escape.” He shut his eyes. He loved the feel of her against him. “But if you want, you can sleep beside me. That way, if I move, you’ll know it.”

  She went silent. Lifting his head from her lap, he looked up to her. There was so much weariness in her eyes that it made him frown. She hadn’t slept in days. He wanted to kiss her. To cradle her in his arms. To make her arch beneath him in
ecstasy.

  He flopped down on the ground, stretching out as much as he could. “Come on. You can play big spoon.”

  “What?”

  “Y’know—big spoon and little—oh, never mind. You need to sleep, Ember. You’re wearing yourself out. If you don’t get some rest, you’ll faint on me, and then where will we be? My stupid, poisoned ass tied to your horse, and you in a puddle on the ground.” The mental image made him snicker.

  “I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse.”

  He turned to shoot her a raised eyebrow. “Really?”

  She paused. “No.” After a moment, he laughed. She joined him, even if it was weakly. “Fine, fine…” She lay down on the ground behind him. He shuffled until his back was against her chest. She was shorter than he was, and her shoulders were thinner, so it wasn’t exactly a great fit, but it was still wonderful.

  “You could keep your hand on the ropes, if it makes you feel better…” He grinned. Really, he just wanted her arm around him.

  Surprisingly, she followed his suggestion. Draping an arm over him, she grasped the rope by his wrists. His head was just beneath her chin. Shutting his eyes, he let out a long breath. “I won’t hurt you, Ember. I promise you that. From now until the end of all our days.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  “I don’t think you trust anybody.”

  “Nope. I don’t.”

  “Why?”

  “I…have reasons. Go to sleep, Rxa.”

  He sighed. He’d get her story out of her someday soon. Nuzzling back into her, he let himself enjoy the warmth of her embrace. He could imagine them as lovers—him in his glory, and her curled against him after hours of worshipping each other.

  You would love me if I were not this wretch they made of me.

  Ember woke up to a strange sound.

  She had fallen asleep with her arm over Rxa, her fingers tangled in the ropes that bound him. It had been a foolish risk, but she was exhausted. His comments about her needing to rest had been true. If she pushed herself much harder, she would be putting herself and her probably-mostly-likely-doomed mission at risk.

  He was still there, his back against her, his head under her chin. That smell of incense that he seemed to carry with him had lulled her off to sleep.

  But something had woken her up.

  She heard it again—a low, wet growl. And a snapping noise.

  Sitting up, she grabbed her golden spear and quickly found the source of the sound. Fear and adrenaline hit her instantly, waking her up out of her sleepy daze.

  Cricket.

  A creature stood over the horse. Something nearly as big as her insectoid companion. It was covered in dark fur but bristled with spines like a porcupine. It was hunched over Cricket…eating him.

  The horse’s mouth was open, tongue rolled out. His entire stomach was ripped wide, intestines and gore yanked out for the creature to devour. Its head resembled that of a large cat, the dark fur shining in the moonlight from the blood as it ripped tendons and muscles in its toothy maw.

  She nudged Rxa hard in the shoulder. He grunted and buried his head into the balled-up clothing she had given him as a pillow. “Five more minutes, Mommy.”

  The monster lifted its head at the voice. Flashing green eyes caught the moonlight. It had…nine of them. Scattered over its head at odd and nonsensical angles. And they were all focused on her.

  Fuck. Fuck!

  It lifted its tail, curled like a scorpion. The barb at the end dripped liquid. Whatever kind of toxin it used, she didn’t know. She didn’t care to find out. Cricket would heal—or so everyone claimed. The marks on the horse’s face were still intact.

  But her?

  She wasn’t so privileged.

  Shooting up to her feet, she gripped the spear and slowly moved to keep the remains of the fire between her and the monster. It growled at her, prowling away from Cricket’s body and stalking its new, more interesting prey.

  Setting her stance, she stared at it and waited. She wouldn’t make the first move. Without knowing what kind of beast she was up against, there was no telling if she would incite it by running or making noise. She assumed so.

  It crouched, ready to jump. She gripped her spear in both hands. Heart pounding in her ears, she braced herself for a brutal fight.

  She braced herself for death.

  It leapt at her, sharp black claws extended, bloody maw open wide. She stabbed upward with the spear as it came into range, shoving the golden metal tip through its shoulder.

  The creature howled in pain, but the inertia of its bodyweight was too much. It tackled her to the ground, pinning her beneath it. She kicked at it, shoved at it, trying to get herself free.

  One of its long claws dug into her arm, sinking deep into her flesh. She let out a cry of pain as she planted her foot against its ribcage, trying desperately to keep it from biting her.

  She watched in horror as its…mouth began to grow. Divisions appeared in the bones, and the creature’s very face split wide like the petals of some terrible flower.

  Teeth.

  It had so many teeth.

  Rows and rows of them like a leech. They flexed and moved, eager to dig into her flesh and end her life.

  It let out an ear-piercing screech.

  Ember knew she was going to die. Turning her head, she squeezed her eyes shut.

  And then came the blood.

  Hot and thick, it covered her. The smell of the coppery substance stung her nose. She could taste it in her mouth, bitter and metallic.

  She couldn’t breathe. Her heart thundered in her ears.

  It took her a second to realize there was no pain.

  She froze. The creature was still over her, pinning her down. Its head only six inches from hers, split jaws wide, teeth ready to rip her apart.

  But jutting through the middle of its skull…was a blade. A rusty, jagged, vicious looking thing that dripped more of the dark crimson gore onto her chest.

  It was a scythe.

  Rxa stood behind the creature, curved wooden handle in his hands. His face was a grimace of hatred as he jerked the blade back out of the monster’s skull. With one bare, bandaged foot, he kicked the thing off her. It slumped to the side heavily, limp and dead.

  He looked down at her, pale-yellow eyes flashing with joy. “Wasn’t that exciting?” He grinned.

  She scrambled to her feet, slipping in the liquid that surrounded her. She was covered in the creature’s blood. She could feel it on her face, her throat, soaking her clothes. “How did you—” She broke off. Fear rushed through her. Terror at the realization of what had happened.

  He’s free.

  Oh, gods above, he’s free!

  “Huh?” He looked behind him. “What’s wrong?”

  She turned and ran.

  Trees in the darkness were a blur as she fled as fast as her feet could take her. She had left behind everything except the clothes on her back and the knife in her belt. She didn’t care. Survival was more important. Live for every second.

  Panic was as dangerous as it was useful. The adrenaline that flooded her body fueled her escape.

  But it also made her careless.

  A rock slipped beneath her foot. She staggered. Tripped.

  The ground rushed up toward her head.

  Thunk.

  The world went black.

  The warning came in the form of a howl in the darkness.

  Dtu froze. Jakob looked up at him in wary concern and gripped the strap of his pack. “What is it?”

  “Get with the others. Stay with them. Ini—protect the mortals.” Dtu growled, the hair on his shoulders raising. “They’re here.”

  Ini vanished in a blink and appeared at Jakob’s side, making him squeak in alarm. The blue elven woman took his arms, and suddenly they were not standing by Dtu, but in the crowd of frightened survivors of Gioll.

  The sudden relocation made his head spin. He collapsed to the ground, feeling woozy.

 
“So sorry! I hate to do that without warning.” She patted his head.

  “S’fine,” he slurred. Shaking his head, he tried to get it to stop spinning.

  “Sweet boy. I will protect you.” Ini floated up over them, hovering some fifteen feet in the air. She held out her hands at her sides and swept them about her in a graceful circle. Jakob could only watch in amazement as the ground around the survivors began to glow—a bright blue line that came from nowhere traveled around them.

  It was then that he heard the sounds of fighting. Dtu’s people and whoever else had come with them from their city and the estate of the King of Shadows. Jakob staggered up to his feet, nearly tripping again. A stranger kept him steady.

  Offering the man a thankful smile, he looked out into the darkness.

  The darkness was moving.

  There, just beyond Dtu…was a wall of drengil. Maverick kicked the sides of his horse, turning it back to join the defensive line that was forming.

  But Jakob knew it wouldn’t be enough. The hungry dead charged forward as a wave.

  “Do not step beyond the circle!” Ini called from above them. “I will protect you all for as long as I can. May the Ancients be with us.”

  Dtu let out a loud, unearthly howl. His people answered him in their battle cries.

  The dead had come.

  Gods help them all.

  9

  Ember woke up slowly. Her head ached.

  There was a low noise near her ear. Something that made her shiver. What had happened? Where was she? She felt strange—detached and fuzzy. But warm. Something made her squirm, and she let out a shuddering whimper.

  Someone shushed her gently. Someone close to her. The ground beneath her was cool against her skin. She felt flushed and overheated. Her head was reeling. Opening her eyes, the world was a dark blur.

  Then she registered the sound…it was a purr. A deep, resonant sound that was animalistic and inhuman. It reverberated through her. It should have frightened her—it should have terrified her—but instead, it was anything but. It lulled her back into the warmth that it inspired. The heat pooled low in her body.