Page 115 of Hearts of Stone

Wulfstan.

Our brother shoved the warlock away from him, sucking in breaths before he lashed out again, this time raking his claws across the man’s chest, as if to test the theory for himself. Luther just looked down at the bloodied scratches and laughed. Because Wulf now wore exactly the same marks on his own chest.

To fulfil our destiny, and finally put down the madman who’d terrorised this city for over a hundred years, we’d have to kill our brother.

Chapter 64

Jade

I was pretty sure I was in hell.

Z Ward was now a far cry from the place I’d visited with Daniel. The flames licking the walls created a close atmosphere that made it hard to breathe, but it was more than that. A sense of desperation also hung in the air as Madeline and I ran along the left-hand corridor. But in search of what? How would you recognise something someone might tie their soul to? As we went, we were met with a chorus of groans from the cells. When I’d visited before they’d been old but clean, showing signs of their age, but blessedly free of spectral visitors. But that had changed. I couldn’t see past the bars now because something dark massed in each cell. Slender arms of dark mist slid through the bars, raking at the doors and potentially at us. I shied away as we hurried on, turning to Madeline.

“What the hell would Luther have anchored his soul to?” I asked. “Did he have some piece of family jewellery that was special to him?”

“Not Luther. He grew up with all of life’s advantages. There was little value in material things because he had access to all ofthem from a young age. He was groomed to be the next heir as Kenneth had not borne any children.”

I winced at the word groomed in the face of what I’d been told about Kenneth.

“So nothing from his childhood? A keepsake from his mother?”

She shook her head sharply. “The lady was like a ghost in her own life. She bore the children required of her in silence and ignored her son’s vagaries. I’m not sure if he could even remember her name if you asked him.”

“So, what then?” I came to a stop at the stairs, saw the frozen form of the two gargoyles at the foot of the staircase. “What did he treasure the most?”

“This place,” Madeline replied with absolute conviction. “He had his own blood added to the mortar used to make the bricks, because he was creating something for himself on the estate grounds. The house was the legacy he was given, but this was the legacy he was creating.”

“So…something in the building, then?” I asked, raking my eyes up and down the walls. “Some kind of architectural feature. A stone inset into the walls. Perhaps a ruby made from his blood…”

All sound theories, that was for certain. But I was about to have them all brutally disproved. We had made our way back around and were now looking down from the first level, to where the gargoyles faced Luther.

“You should’ve been drowned the moment you were born,” Graven snarled, approaching Luther with his claws held out from his body. “It would’ve been a mercy to end you then, before your poison could seep into the world.”

“Ahh, Graven, found your voice, have you?” Adam…ugh, Luther, laughed wildly. “Is that little bite mark on the girl anything to do with that?”

“Being around the true master of The Eyrie has always made me stronger,” my mate shot back. “She is a queen who understands the true purpose of power, but you… You’re just a little boy tearing things apart because the only way you feel alive is when someone else is hurting.”

“Is that so?” Luther stepped forward, great balls of fire forming in his hands. “I’ll allow this display of insolence just this once, before I bring you to your knees.” He moved his hands and the fire merged together, then stretched into a flaming infinity loop. “Then I’ll force you to do the same to your pretty ‘soul mate’.”

The three gargoyles all snarled then and launched themselves at him.

It couldn’t be an even fight, that’s why I pressed myself against the railing to watch it all take place. I didn’t know enough about my own power, didn’t feel confident attacking Luther head on, but they were my proxies. They’d make Luther pay for every horrific thing he’d done in his miserably long life and…

So would Wulfstan.

The massive gargoyle rallied, readying himself to attack, but while my three gargoyles dodged and weaved between whips of fiery magic, something happened. Graven, who seemed to have the keen eyes of an eagle, dipped sideways, flying into a tiny space between Luther’s streams of fire, the thin membranes of his wings singeing, right before he dropped down, claws outstretched. Luther’s eyes went wide as one raked across his face, then another, the flames faltering for just a second, which the others took advantage of. But it wasn’t them I was watching. Wulfstan’s claws had gone to his face as identical slashes to Luther’s formed.

“Wulf is Luther’s soul anchor,” Madeline and I said at the same time.

We stared at each other, knowing what that meant, my lips already moving in denial.

“No… No—”

“Luther must die or many more will suffer the same fate as your Daniel,” she told me urgently, wisps of burning paper falling between us, the remnant of Luther’s magical fire that had been fading as his focus turned to battling the gargoyles. “He will not stop. Isn’t this evidence enough for you?” She gestured to the fight below. Wulf struggled to right himself and join the fray, but each time he did, another slash from my gargoyles had him and Luther both staggering back. “He will do literally anything to prolong his reign of terror.”

Including having linked his soul to Wulfstan’s.

The gargoyles had told me that Luther had forced Wulf to perform many of the horrific acts on the inmates here, but now I wondered…was it Wulf that did them or was it Luther in Wulf’s body? Which brought me to the next question. I watched the battle taking place, all sense of victory scrubbed away, because yet again the innocent were suffering. I turned to Madeline.

---