DAIRE
His glowing red gaze narrows on mine, offering all the proof that I need to know the beast seized control.
The boy I fell madly in love with—the boy made entirely of goodness and light—has been snuffed by the bloodthirsty creature that glowers before me.
My hands tremble.
My knees threaten to fold.
Overcome by the enormity of all that we’ve lost, along with the harrowing truth that he did this for me.
Convinced that the darkness was his to control—only to discover too late that fate serves its own agenda.
Aside from the eyes and the tufts of black feathers beginning to form at the crown, he’s as handsome as ever. Though I can’t be deceived by his looks. The moment he killed Gabe, he became fully initiated.
Won’t be much longer before the shift is complete.
Still, I lower my knife, refusing to use it until I’m absolutely sure no part of him exists. As long as the beast continues to breathe—a part of Dace may manage to cling.
At the sight of me standing defenseless before him, he throws his head back and roars a deep, guttural laugh. But it’s not Dace who mocks me. It’s the beast. Despite how much it may hurt, I remind myself to never forget this.
“Sure you want to do that, Seeker?” The words are brusque but the tone is lazy, as though he’ll take his time to slay me his way. “Not that I blame you. Knife like that could never save you. I don’t care whose essence it contains.”
Despite the implied threat, the words give me hope that I’m on the right track. If he truly remembers the day I told him about Valentina’s spirit being sealed on my athame, then clearly a shred of him has managed to survive.
I flip my hair out of my eyes and lean toward him. Determined to appeal to whatever part of Dace still exists, when the last remaining pin securing my updo is released, and I watch as his eyes lovingly follow the course of curls settling in untidy waves over my shoulders.
Though the
moment he catches me looking, his admiration is replaced with such deeply penetrating menace, it’s all I can do to stay calm.
“You saw what I did to my cousin,” he growls. “Saw how easy it was.”
“I watched the whole thing.” I press my knife to my side. “I could hardly keep from cheering. I hated Gabe too.”
He cocks his head, curls and uncurls his fingers, as though weighing my words.
“You did the world a favor, Dace. Heck, you did Marliz a favor. Gabe really was embarrassing, annoying, a total misogynist, a major thug, and his jokes were truly stupid. Good riddance, I say.”
“And you know what I say?”
He moves toward me and it’s all I can do not to flee. Repeating to myself over and over that Dace is in there. Somewhere. He has to be.
“I say you should’ve run when you had the chance.”
“I won’t run from you, Dace.” I square my shoulders, remain fixed right in place. If I can keep addressing him by his name, it might manage to penetrate. “Not while you’re still in there—and we both know you are. It doesn’t have to be like this, Dace. You can beat this. You can—”
Before I can finish, his jacket begins to shred at the seams, as impossibly long talons shoot from his fingers and a crown of black feathers fully encircles his head. “Seems the evidence would speak otherwise.” He shrugs, causing the sleeves to fall to the ground just beside him.
I tighten my grip on the athame, try to follow Chay’s advice and listen to my heart. But with the beast quickly closing the gap between us, any wisdom my heart may contain is drowned by the blare of impending defeat.
I take an awkward step back, but the move comes too late. His reflexes now lightning fast, his strength greatly multiplied, he easily catches me by the wrist and squeezes so hard I’m afraid it might snap.
“All those incessant workouts, all of the magick, and daily six-mile runs, and you’re not even going to try to put up a fight?” He hauls me up against him until my back is flush to his torso, tightening his grip until my fingers fall limp, the athame drops to his feet, and he kicks it well out of sight long before I can even attempt to summon it back.
“I’m here to fight the enemy, not you. You seem to forget that we share the same goal. We’re both after the Richters and there’s no reason we can’t defeat them together.”
He laughs, nudges his face against mine. The move releasing a hail of feathers that spill onto my cheek. “I work alone,” he growls, the sound primal and deep. “I’ve no need for partners.” He runs a finger down the center of my chest, lingering for a moment over the key as though it sparks a distant memory, making him reluctant to proceed.