Page 42 of A Shadow in the Reaping
Just as I put my arm back down at my side, something grazes the hem of my dress and darts past me. I catch sight of a shape running low to the ground. There's something a little off about it. It only has three legs... I think?.. I can't really focus on it, I'm too drunk for that, but I'm pretty sure it was a white dog. It hides around the corner of a hedge and I let go of Ashen's hand with a happy clap and dance as I mouth the worddog!and trot toward the hedge. I extend my hand toward it but the shape jumps out from the hedge and startles me with a vicious hiss before it scuttles off into the dark in a crab crawl.
"Not a dog, vampire," Ashen says as I back into him and his arm locks around my waist. "It's a crawler. An old and angry soul."
What the fuck, I mouth as I point with my bottle in the direction of the sound of its hiss as the creature continues into the fog. I hear a high-pitched, whistling cry, then another behind us, followed by a third to our left. Ashen takes hold of my hand once more and pulls me along, his other hand gripping his sword as the flame ripples to life across the blade.
"We need to go."
We pick up the pace, which is a mission in these heels. I pull Ashen to a stop so I can take them off and I expect he’ll roll his eyes or huff about it, but he doesn’t. He just holds my arm for balance and watches with a worried expression, his eyes darting toward a high-pitched call in the fog behind us. When I’m done, we carry on in tense silence, going as quickly as my impaired balance allow. We don’t see them, but I know they're there. I feel the presence of souls in the night, even when they're silent.
There’s a scuttling sound close behind us as we round the corner and start down the center of the road leading back to House Urbigu. Ashen lets go of my hand and spins away from me. I follow his movement. His sword cuts a low arc in the fog. Before he lands the blow, I see the crawler in the light of his blade, galloping toward him. It has the body of something once like a human with the movement of a beast. Its eyes are fixed to me, but it’s heading straight for the Reaper.
Ashen’s sword cuts it clean through the middle, the two halves of the soul separating like slices of meat. Thick, putrid blood and the smell of decay flood the road as the creature falls at the Reaper’s feet. I press my hand across my nose and mouth and swallow down the bile that rises in my throat.This is so not a good time to be drunk, I think, though it’s a little too late now.
“Shit,” Ashen says, looking down at the creature. A screech from further down the road fills the still night air. “That’s not good.Run, Lu.”
Ashen turns in my direction. I drop my shoes and throw my bottle of wine, hoping the shattered glass might slow some of the creatures down. And then we run. We run as fast as we can go together, Ashen’s hand clasped around mine. My legs burn, my heart surges. More screeching calls pierce the fog. Bare feet and palms smack the surface of the road behind us. I smell their rot and ruin. I feel their hatred and malice.
House Urbigu looms ahead in the fog, and we dart up the pathway framed by gas lamps. I catch movement on my right but it disappears into shadow before I can get a sense of how close it is. Ashen pulls my hand ahead to send me up the stairs and I turn on the landing, watching as he stops behind me.
Hellfire ripples on the silver sword as Ashen sweeps it behind him. It slices through the air above his head. “Maqlu kalusa isbura,” he says, and drives the blade down until it cuts the stone beneath his feet.
Fire spills down the stairs. It burns the fog and shadow. It pours down the path and lights the road, illuminating the crawlers that scuttle toward us from all directions. And then it coats them all in flame.
The souls twist in pain and screech their dying calls into the night of the Shadow Realm.
Memory rips through my drunken haze. My heart roars. Bile climbs my throat. I cover my ears and close my eyes. Their suffering is too much like mine. Before I can open my eyes again and force myself to witness their plight, Ashen grabs my wrist and pulls us into House Urbigu, shutting the door behind us as the souls die their final deaths outside.
“I’m sorry, Lu. I’m sorry,” Ashen says, his voice despondent as he pulls one of my hands away from my head. He threads his fingers through mine and guides us away from the door and the keening wails on the other side.
Ashen doesn't seem to relax at all as we enter the vestibule of House Urbigu. It feels like being tethered to a ticking bomb as we walk quickly past the cauldrons and through the grand hall. The sounds of the shrieking fade behind us, and by the time we reach the stairs I can’t hear them at all. When we finally enter his room, Ashen leans against the door, heaving a heavy sigh as he lets go of my hand and drops his sword. He bends his head and folds his hands across the back of the neck, his gaze locked to the floor.
For a long moment, there's only the silence of the room. There are only the things I can hear that no one else can. Heartbeats. The air in our lungs. The slow blink as Ashen presses his eyes closed. I sense the worry and fear battle the resolve within him. It’s the swell of the ocean battering a lighthouse in a storm. The weight of water behind a dam. I move closer and touch his arm. A question lingers in my expression, but he doesn't look at me. He only lowers his hand from his neck, grazing my fingers on the way down to his side.
"I need to rest," Ashen says, his voice quiet and low. He doesn't raise his head or look in my direction. I feel like something has been bruised within me. "Get some sleep, vampire."
Ashen pushes away from the door and walks past me to the bathroom. The light turns on but I hear no sounds. I watch from where I stand for a long time, waiting for a shadow beneath the door. But nothing changes. After a while, I go to the sidebar and take a long sip of whiskey from a bottle, climbing onto the bed and pulling my hair free of my bun. A few more sips and I set the bottle down on the nightstand, then lay my head on the cool caress of the pillow. I close my eyes and I dream of nothing at all.
It seems like I've only blinked when I feel something peeling from my cheek. I crack open an eye. A finger hovers in front of my face with a fake lash stuck to the tip.
"Good morning, sunshine," Ashen says.
The room is swirling around me. Someone is scraping pins across the inside of my skull and I'm ninety-nine percent sure it's Ashen. If I vomit, I'm past the point of caring.
Holy fuck I feel like death.
I push my face into the pillow as I open and close my hand in a request for my pen. I feel the cool, polished abalone slide across my palm, the journal landing open near my hand.
I uncap the pen and scrawl a note without lifting my head from the pillow.Fuck you,it says.
"Flickyou? Whatever you say, vampire."
A sharp ping snaps at the exposed skin on my back. All praise to Cardi B that I still have hours left on my mutism spell because I swear I would have yelled a string of obscenities. I flail my hand around and manage to whack some part of Ashen and he lets out anoof. I try another note.
F.U.C.K. Y.O.U.
"Oh. I see. That makes more sense."
Go. Away.
