Page 108 of The Shadow Bride

Odessa shakes her head. “Once is an anomaly. Twice is a coincidence. Any more than that establishes a pattern.” A pause. “I’m sorry, Célie.”

I’m sorry, Célie. I’m so sorry.

Shrugging away from Michal’s hands, I ignore Panteleimon’s threatening stare and stalk across the chessboard, unable to look at any of them—even Dimitri, who has kept damnably silent beside his sister. Though I long toshakehim, I meant what I said before; Death is trying to divide us, and we cannot let him.

Every person in this room found a loophole, which means I can find one too.

Breathing deep, I appeal to each of them through clenched teeth: “You kept your brother, Odessa, despite his affliction.” Next I gesture to Michal, acutely aware of how he tracks each step, each turn of my heel, his eyes narrowed as if thinking hard.No one likesto sit in another person’s pain—not when there isn’t anything to be done about it.Michal is not the type to sit, however; he is the type todo, and until now, he has always held the cards. I can almost hear his brilliant mind whirring, scheming, grinding in frustration.

“You kept your sister,” I tell him. “She has diedtwice, yet you can still see her, speak to her, as a spirit.” To Dimitri, I say, “And you kept yourlife, to be quite frank. Each of you found a way to escape Death, but my sister didn’t—until now. If there is a way to keep her alive, I am going to find it, even if that does make me afoolish girl.” I exhale a harsh breath at my mother’s insult, still pacing. “Did I mention my sister built an ice palace in the spirit realm? It looks just like the one we dreamed of as children, and she keeps Frederic’s and Evangeline’s souls trapped inside it. Andherdeal with Death? She asked for her child back. Her baby. Does that sound like a monster to you?”

“Yes.” Odessa tugs the map from my clenched fingers, tucking it back into her robe with a valiant stab at patience. “Célie, she imprisoned her lover’ssoul—”

“Because she still loves him, Odessa,” Dimitri says with a sigh. “Isn’t it obvious?”

I whirl to face him at that, hardly daring to hope. Though he shrugs back at me in a noncommittal sort of way—hands still buried in his pockets—he also doesn’t backtrack as his sister snaps, “Oh? And did she love him while she watched Death rip out his heart?”

Michal joins us at the center of the chessboard now, coming to stand directly behind me. “With the intent to bring him back. She knew she’d see him again when Death brought down the veil. It wasn’t goodbye forever—just for now.”

That glimmer of hope sparks.

Catches.

“Exactly—andthatis the crux of the issue.” Odessa throws up her hands and glares between us, clearly disliking the direction our conversation has taken. “She needs the veil to come down to reunite with both her daughterandlover. Our only avenue of preventing that is to remove her from the board. The door cannot close while she lives.”

Throwing caution to the wind, I say, “Help me find another way, then. Please.”

Though she hesitates—staring back at me with bright apprehension, and perhaps a touch of obstinance—Michal does not. His voice rumbles up my spine, and I shiver at the sheer weight of it. The finality. “Of course we’ll help you.” Turning slightly, I catch the ominous look he sends in Dimitri’s direction. “Just as you’ve always helped us.”

Dimitri rolls his eyes. “To be clear, that appalling display of dominance wasn’t necessary. Obviously I agree; I wasalwaysgoing to agree. Célie is my friend.” Though he turns to speak to me, I cannot help but feel he means the words for someone else. “If you’ll still have me, that is,” he adds quietly, ducking his chin.

Michal and Odessa share a tense look.

Instinctively, I unwind the bandage around my palm. Three pairs of eyes snap to the thin line of scarlet revealed in its wake, but I ignore everyone but Dimitri. “Are yousureyou’re in control?” I ask him, waving my hand below his face. “Inhale. Don’t hold your breath.”

He does just that, drawing in a slow and measured breath. Though his pupils dilate slightly at the scent of my blood, he remains at ease, leaning against the rook once more. A ruefulgrin twists his lips. “As delectable as I find you, mon papillon chérie”—Michal’s low growl interrupts—“I am in complete control.” Ignoring Michal, he leans closer with a wink, yet his eyes don’t sparkle quite as brightly as before. “And I promise not to bite unless you ask me.Areyou asking?”

My fingers close around my bloody palm as Michal appears at my side. “No,” I tell them both sharply. Then— “What do you think, Michal? Can you work together again?”

A muscle feathers in Michal’s jaw as he stares at his cousin, and his cousin stares right back. At last, Michal nods tersely, and as one, we all turn to Odessa. She sighs heavily before shaking her head in defeat, crouching before Panteleimon to stroke his brilliant head. “I suppose a broken clock is right twice a day—but thereisa clock, and we don’t know how much time is left. Even now, Death could be finding the answer he seeks.”

Movement sounds from the corridor outside, and instantly, the four of us tense, each whirling to face the door and listening hard.Footsteps.Those are definitely footsteps. Too late, my stomach plummets with awareness. We’d forgotten to keep our voices down, forgotten the entire castle—the entirekingdom—believes Michal to be dead and me to be imprisoned. If anyone finds us here, it’ll be anarchy—true anarchy this time. I doubt even Michal, Odessa, and Dimitri could defend themselves against an entire isle of murderous vampires. Dimitri curses bitterly in agreement, pulling me behind him as Michal and Odessa step forward. As they shift slightly, their stances widen and tension coils in their torsos.

Positioning themselves, I realize in belated panic, clutching Dimitri’s sleeve.

Though my eyes dart for a place to hide, Michal shakes hishead as if sensing my flight response. “It’s too late. Whoever it is will have already heard us. Stay with Dimitri,” he adds sharply, “unless they overpower us. If that happens”—now he turns his head to meet my eyes, which widen at the malevolence in his expression—“I want you to run as fast and as far as you can. Go to Mathilde. She’ll shelter you from the likes of Léandre and Violette until—”

The door bursts open before he can finish, however, and it is not Léandre and Violette who stand on the threshold.

“Pasha?” Odessa asks indignantly. “Ivan? What did I tell you? Célie’s mother is not to be—”

She breaks off at the sight of their stiff and lumbering movements, and Dimitri curses again, dragging me behind an enormous bishop. With a trill of fear, Panteleimon vanishes up the staircase. It takes another second for me to understand why—for me to recognize the yawning pupils and clouded surfaces of Ivan’s and Pasha’s once-crystalline eyes, to detect therotthat wafts from their ashen skin. Dark blood has dried upon the slashes at their throats; it stains the golden foxes of their uniforms a gruesome black.

Revenants.

Inhaling reflexively, I fight the urge to retch. Their scent mingles with another, this one familiar and herbal and slightly bitter. I cannot place it, however—not as Michal and Odessa converge, blocking their path into the room. “Can you understand us?” Michal asks grimly. “Can you speak?”

Ivan lifts his hands with a rattling breath. When he speaks, his voice resonates much deeper than in life, harsh and guttural and terrifying. “A—gift.”

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