Page 39 of Of Bone and Ash

He wants me to talk to Fina? I thought for sure I was about to get a big brother lecture and a stern warning to stay clear of his sister.

“You want him talking to her?” Boris asks in confusion, echoing my surprise.

“No. But there’s no stopping those two. I may be able to threaten him enough to keep him away from her for a few days,” Atlas says, tipping his head toward me as he keeps texting Gabe. “But there is no stopping Fina. I’ll be surprised if you don't need to find a new second in command by morning. Actually, I want you to give her twenty-four hours before talking. She’s used a lot of her magic and needs rest. Plus, giving her some space increases your chance of survival.” Boris frowns and looks at me. When I shrug and nod, he pales a little, then clears his throat.

“I… fuck, you’re all bat-shit-crazy. Evans, try to keep your soul in your body throughout the night and report for duty in the morning. I want you at the chapel to meet with the parents of the deceased with me before we go over the evidence with that stupid Angel prick.”

Atlas chuckles, looking up from his phone and cocking a brow at me when all I do is glare at my Alpha. When Atlas' phone pings with a message, he curses and looks up at me.

“Out. I have a mess to clean up, thanks to you,” he mutters, dismissing Boris and me with a flick of his wrist before he wheels himself away from his desk and toward a small side door at the back of the room. We watch him go, staying silent until the door slams with an echoing thump before Boris looks at me with pursed lips.

“I’ve never been dismissed like that before. I can’t tell if my Dragon is pissed, apprehensive, or respects the hell out of him,” he admits, rubbing at his thick beard as he moves to the door, and I follow.

“If you're smart, it will be a little bit of all three,” I mutter, stepping around him and taking the stairs three at a time so I can figure out what to do.

“Hey!” Boris shouts after me, not trying to keep up. I look over my shoulder at him. “Stay alive, kid. I need your help with these girls. Fix whatever the hell you did to that girl, and learn not to piss off females who can kill you. Especially if she’s your mate.”

I smirk up at the man who has quickly become someone I respect and have grown fond of.

“Yes, sir,” I say with a mock salute before I turn and run out of the castle. I have twenty-four hours to figure out how to get Serafina to talk to me with minimal bloodshed and I’m not going to waste a minute of it.

EIGHTEEN

Serafina

Ascream tears through the dark trees, the stench of rot in the air making my stomach heave as I move faster than should be possible through the tall, spindly trees of the Hoia Baciu Forest. The ground beneath my bare feet feels unsteady, the wet mud shifting, making me stumble more than once as I try desperately to move forward. I don't know where I’m going, but I know I have to get to the girl before she dies. I vaguely realize I’m dreaming, but the panic I currently feel blocks out everything as I sprint faster.

“Help! Please!” A girl cries, the fear in her voice almost as palpable as it is in the air. My magic lurches forward in excitement, and I curse as I keep running, branches whipping my face as I duck under a low-hanging tree limb.

“PLEASE,” the girl screams, and I shiver as I hear the pain etched into her hoarse cry. To my right, I see a girl with bright red hair. Tears run down her cheeks as she struggles against the ropes holding her in place. She’s different from the girl I saw in my first dream and, thankfully, still alive.

“I’m coming!” I call out just as my vision blurs, fading at the edges as the forest moves around me like a mirage. It’s disorienting, making my head spin as I pull up short, the forest spinning around me as a sickly sweet smell fills my nostrils. The smell helps disguise the rot in the air, the heavy burst of burnt caramel and patchouli becomes so thick I can taste it on my tongue as the world slowly settles around me.

I rock back on my heels, vertigo hitting me as the clearing I’m suddenly standing in comes into view. I recognize the shock that courses through my body, and yet I almost feel numb as my attention falls on the mass of bodies strewn over the ground.

The girl is gone, but I’m not alone. Arms and legs are tangled together, faces a mask of pain that will never soften. Their eyes… I swallow as I take in the death around me. There are dozens of girls lying dead on the frost-covered ground. Their bodies are all in different stages of decomposition. A thick cover of fog drifts over them, blanketing them in a twisted, cold sheet as they stare blankly up into the night sky, their lips parted in silent screams I can almost hear.

Disgust and unease fill me as I stare at them, my magic bubbling to the surface, begging for release and I suck in a breath, counting to thirteen before releasing it.

I shake my head, still feeling off. There is something going on here. My mind feels like I’ve been drugged, yet I have full control of my body. The hairs on the back of my neck rise, pulling me from my foggy thoughts, and I still. Closing my eyes, I listen, waiting for what I know is out there. It takes a few moments, and I’m just about to head deeper into the forest when I hear the faintest snap of a branch behind me. I grin, letting my rage slowly filter through my body as my fingers flex at my sides. In a second, the cold bite and heavy weight of my sword materializes in my hand.

“Shall we play again?” I ask as a now familiar dark magic that doesn't belong to me creeps across the clearing. I step into a wide stance, readying myself for its first lash, knowing what to expect this time.

“Is it a game if I already know you will lose?” a deep, melodic voice croons, the gravelly timbre of the tone making goosebumps race over my arms as I try to pinpoint where the voice is coming from. It sounds different from the one I heard before, and I frown. Shit, how many of these things are there?

“You're confident in yourself,” I whisper, letting my Reaper magic pour from me, holding the rest back. I’m not sure how my Demonic magic will react if I let it out, so I’ll keep it tamped down unless there’s an emergency. I use my magic rather than my sight to find the darkness creeping in. I wade through the clearing, letting the sticky black tar-like magic encompass the space around me as I search.

The hair at the back of my neck stands on end, and I hold my breath as the forest around me goes deathly still. I feel something move, the shadows in the night thickening to my left before they dance behind me and rise, trying to take me unaware.

“You shouldn’t be,” I rasp, lips twisting up into a smile as I turn, raising my sword and grinding my teeth as a wave of black and red magic clashes against it. The magic erupts with a power I’m not prepared for, making my feet slide in the slick mud before I have enough strength to shove it away from me. Calling on my scythe, I twirl my sword in front of me, letting it act like a shield as the reddish-black magic strikes again. The blow is strong, making me grit my teeth as I cross my scythe with my sword, twirling them in tandem, sending shadows skittering across the forest floor.

“Give in to me, little Reaper. I can help you gain control of your magic. Show you how truly strong you can be,” the smooth voice purrs into my right ear, sounding too close for my liking. “Your pain is delicious, yet you shove it down instead of embracing it. Let it go, give it to me, and I can make you so much more than you could ever dream.”

“I don’t trust my friends. What makes you think I would trust you?” I sneer, narrowing my eyes as I search the magic in front of me. There is movement from within, the center shifting in an oddly human way.

“Help,” a broken voice rasps, making my head snap to the side, a frown tugging on my lips as I search the dark forest for the voice. “Please,” the voice croaks, softening, and I panic. Shit, what if she's dying? I need to get this magic out of the way so I can find and help her. But before I can think of what to do next, the giant cloud of reddish-black magic springs forward, wrapping me in its grip, its bands cording around me tight, trapping my arms at my sides.

My sword falls from my grip, vanishing into the ether, but I manage to hold onto my scythe as the bands of foreign magic crush me, tearing the breath from my lungs and making my vision spotty.

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