Page 134 of The Shadow Bride

“In the blood witch camp,” Death says, oblivious to our exchange, “Célie mentioned just how much Frederic loved you, and I couldn’t help but wonder—hasthatbeen the missing piece on this chessboard of ours?” He tilts his head in rapt fascination. “It would fit, wouldn’t it? La Voisin never loved anyone at all, so she wouldn’t have understood its effects on her spell. But what if itdidaffect her spell? If simple blood can resurrect a body—if it can create a revenant—imagine what love could do.”

He reaches over my shoulder to caress my face, watching Filippa’s with keen interest. Then, without warning, he wrenches the chain upward, sweeping me off my feet. Blinding pain sears my throat—black edges my vision—and though Filippa strives to remain impassive, something flickers in her eyes again. They tighten infinitesimally.

“What if”—Death’s voice takes on an almost feverish excitement now, as if she has given him exactly what he wants—“love brings back the soul as well as the body? Atrueresurrection.” His free hand flicks to the maelstrom behind us. “And the ultimate affront to nature.”

Filippa shakes her head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“What do you think, Célie?” He leans low to whisper inmyear now, and I turn to face him, to glare directly into those hateful silver eyes. “Do you agree?Islove ridiculous? Is it ridiculous for all these people to still love you after everything you’ve done? How many loved ones have they lost now because of you?”

I wriggle my pinky finger beneath the chain, ignoring the burn. “Because ofyou.”

“You’re my Bride, after all. Where you go, I will go. Where you stay, I will stay.” He spins me in his arms with the words, pulling my head back with the chain. When Michal growls, Death grins. “He loves you too, doesn’t he? Theyalldo, and what a blessing that must be.” The kind words directly belie the anticipation in his voice, however, the hungry gleam in his eyes. “Indeed, your dear old mother loves yousomuch she made a sacrifice upon arriving to Requiem—a most noble one. Would you believe she volunteered herself when a certain witch agreed to stop a certain vampire’s heart?” He flicks a finger at first Lou, then Michal. “You can’t get something for nothing, you know, andthissomething”—he extends his arm to include Odessa too—“required a second heart to stop beating for the spell to work. Alivingheart. Just temporarily, of course—or was it?”

The tip of my ring finger stills beneath the chain, and unbidden, my eyes dart to Michal and Odessa, who both lookstrangely—stricken instead of enraged. But that cannot be right. Death is lying, of course. A twinge of unease still reverberates through the bond, however, and I cannot tell if it belongs to me or to Michal. Even Lou lifts her head from Reid’s shoulder, her eyes wide above the tracks of blood on her cheeks. Confused.

My stomach plummets.

“That—that cannot be true.” I shake my head instinctively, swallowing hard against the fresh bite of pain. Of panic. Death is a manipulator, aliar, and he always has been—from the first swipe of his hand through the pentagram, he has tried to exploit our every move. “It never happened.”

“Oh dear.” Death tuts with relish. “Did no one tell you? Did you never wonder how they ripped out Michal’s heart without killing him? How terribly... upsetting.”

Forcing herself upright, Lou snarls, “Don’t you dare do this, you condescendingprick.” She leans forward, heedless of the Balisarda at her chest—the blood on her face, the revenants’ low growls—and speaks emphatically to me. Desperately. “Célie, we did not kill your mother. I needed to stop a beating heart to preserve Michal, but it was only for a few moments. She volunteered, and she just—she went to sleep for those moments. When I woke her up, she said that she felt”—she glances anxiously at my mother, who has closed her eyes in defeat—“that she felt fine.”

Death laughs again, louder and crueler than before. As cold as the ice spreading through my body.

Lou cannot hear my mother’s heartbeat like I can. She cannot hear how it has slowed, how her lungs now rattle in her chest. I attributed her declining health to stress, to sleeplessness and shock, to anything and everything except the obvious. Becausehow could she be dying? How could she bedead? The evil of my world was never supposed to touch her.

“Maman,” I breathe. “What did you do?”

She does not open her eyes. “I do not regret it.”

“She took one look at you and Michal and knew you loved him,” Death says silkily. “I imagine the choice was rather easy after that—she could not risk her darling daughter’s happiness, after all. And youarehappy now, aren’t you, Célie? So very,veryhappy with your decisions?”

Behind him, Filippa’s hands tremble slightly around the daggers. She stares at our mother with a horrified expression—a horror reflected in Michal’s face too. In Lou’s and Odessa’s and Reid’s as Death finally releases the silver chain, murmuring, “I suppose we don’t need this anymore.” With aching tenderness, he kneels to take my mother’s hand, pulling her to her feet and pressing a kiss to her fingers. And I’m going to be sick now; a wave of scarlet rises in my throat, but I force it back down.

How much more will they be expected to pay?

Everything.

Death has taken everything.

To me, he says, “Shall wetestmy new theory? You’ve lured me here under false pretenses, after all, and that was very foolish of you, Célie, very foolish indeed—though convenient, of course, as you also brought along anyone you’ve ever loved. Feels rather like kismet, doesn’t it?” A sleek smile. “Shall we start with your mother?”

“To whatend?” Fear sharpens my voice, and my entire body trembles as I throw my hands into the air. Michal and Odessa materialize through the revenants on either side of me, who donot react. None of us can fix this, however.Nothingcan fix this, and I—I— “I cannot justbring someone back from the dead! I don’t knowhow—”

He nods to the maelstrom, supremely unconcerned. “Only one way to learn, I’m afraid.”

Unable to help it, I follow his gaze to the swirling waters—to their great and evil eye—before pushing to my feet in cold dread. Because if he kills my mother, I—I don’t know if I’ll be able to get her back. And—and what happens if Ido? If Death is right, if love is the key, the entire veil might collapse when we return—ifwe return. My dread drops into terror at the realization.I could die too. Allof us could die; because Death won’t stop until he wins, until he destroys life itself.

This entire situation—thisnightmare—is a brick sinking straight through the maelstrom, and Death has tied us all to it.

As if sensing the feverishness of my thoughts, Michal brushes a steadying hand against my back. And his rage is still there, but—tempered somehow by resignation, an idea hardening into resolve. I cannot concentrate on it, however, as Death continues without pause. “In theory, you should be able to go through the maelstrom to retrieve your mother intact—because you love her. Again, I assume it has something to do with her soul, or perhaps your soul; I have no way of knowing, as I do not possess one myself. Now”—he turns back to my mother—“no sense in delaying the unpleasantness.”

Though Maman opens her mouth to speak, he shushes her with a finger before brushing it tenderly down her cheek. And her heart—it stutters at that touch. Itstops.

No.

“No!”

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