Brimstone hung heavy in the air, suppressing her lungs. Her new boots were already dusted by black, and it had started to lightly rain.
But the view was outstanding!
Never before had she seen the like.
She stopped for a moment to take it all in, gazing down the slope. Past the dense green veil of forest, the crescent beach below was bordered by an inviting lagoon that stretched out to meet the sapphire ocean. The last sliver of pale blue sky kissed the horizon. Farther down the beach the helium-packed bladder of the airship bowed gracefully above the tree tops. And above that, dark clouds encroached.
The taller trees bowed and swayed, heralding a cool breeze that carried with it the scent of ozone. This little storm was only getting started.
“What’s the holdup?” Knox called over his shoulder from several feet above. He’d been hiking at a breakneck speed since they’d started. Her legs burned with the effort to keep pace. But she wasn’t about to complain. The sooner they got the plant, the better she’d feel about this whole escapade.
Along the ground, between jagged stones and patches of smooth surface, she could see where old rivulets of lava once carved a path in the rock face, seeking solace at the ocean’s edge. Those liquid stone eddies had long since cooled and solidified. Unfortunately, that resulted in amazingly smooth surfaces, and combined with the rain, it was making everything a bit slippery. Even with her new boots, she had caught herself from face-planting several times.
She cursed when the rain came down harder. Someone unzipped one of those clouds and released a squall upon them. The temperature dropped dramatically. Too late, she was rethinking her outfit. She slicked back her sopping hair, and wiped at her forehead. Knox just groused for her to speed her ass up.
When his back was turned, she sent him an answering finger and then lurched forward.
“Don’t you ever get tired?” she complained after a while.
“Vampire, remember? We have terrific stamina.”
She pointed to herself. “Witch, remember? I haven’t exactly mastered my broomstick yet.”
He signed as if she were an irritant and stopped. “And you haven’t done the horizontal jig in a while, not for lack of trying, so you’re probably extra low on energy.”
She walked ahead of him, frowning at the crass reminder of her succubus nature, indignation giving her a second wind. Not because she was ashamed of it—she was starting to accept her latest, strangest facet—but because of the way he’d said it. As if it incriminated her somehow. First thing when they get back to the ship, they were going to sit down for a long talk, whether he liked it or not. He couldn’t continue to treat her as he had been. And she’d had enough of his moodiness. They’d either make this work, or kill each other trying.
When they finally reached the summit, the rain was pelting them, millions of tiny icy spheres stabbing her skin. She never believed it possible to be atop an active volcano while freezing her ass off. Fortunately, the closer they got to the edge, the more swiftly the temperature rose.
The acrid scent of brimstone crawled through her nose, heat burning it into place. And the temperature just grew more and more stifling with each step closer to the lip of the volcano.
Knox silently followed behind her. He’d been blocking himself from her all morning—nothing new there. However, she could tell his temperament was in turmoil. More so than before. She wished he’d open up and let her in, if only a little. Or at least talk to her about what was going on in that obstinate head of his.
“Alright, we’re here.” He strode forward. “Keep your eyes peeled for plants of the mystical variety.”
She peered over the edge; the sight had her wanting to scramble back. A lake of liquid fire bubbled and churned, a veritable entrance to hell if there ever was one. Heat blasted her face as she leaned in closer, scanning. Thick white steam rose from within the massive bowl where raindrops evaporated mid-air, never making it to the bottom of the fiery pit.
“I don’t see anything,” Knox said, his eyes darting around. “God, don’t tell me this was a bloody fool’s errand.”
Her heart plummeted at the suggestion. No! It can’t be. This place was exactly like Sadira’s vision.
Panicked, she squinted, trying to see past the warped steam. Something caught her eye. “There! Across the way.”
Knox focused where she pointed. After a moment, he said, “You think? Just looks like a dead twig.”
“No, below that. See?”
“Oh, shit. Yeah.”
Partway down the inner slope was a small—very small—patch of tiny dark-green leaves attached to a willowy branch, a solitary shrub struggling for survival in a desolate environment. Her spirits skyrocketed. She took off at a sprint, skirting the volcano’s edge, searching for a way down.
“Hey, hold up!” Knox was the one hurrying to catch her now.
“It looks like there might be a path there. Do you see it?”
“Good eye.” His voice came from behind, closer than she’d expected him to be. Guess he didn’t have to try too hard to catch up.
She kept her gaze locked on that plant, smiling wider than she ever had in her entire life, excitement skittering through her. They were so close! That had to be the plant they were looking for. Mason’s salvation was almost in her grasp.
Lightning cracked the sky sharply, fanning out like a giant electric spider web, as if the very gods were watching, warding her away. Save for the appearance of the goddess herself, nothing would keep her from claiming that plant.
As she stared down a dicey pathway, sliding against loose rock, a levee in the sky seemed to break, and more rain fell. Water made rivers of her face and skin. Her legs became caked with soot and her shoes no longer displayed even a hint of their original yellowish color.
Still, she kept her eyes on the plant, descending towards it while gripping the edge of the inner volcanic wall for support.
Heat pumped up to meet her, as if from a great forge. Sweat mingled with the rain on her slickened skin. Air almost too hot to breathe singed her lungs, the syrupy mixture of sulfur and brimstone dizzying.
So close. She could almost reach out and grab the base of the plant now. Just another few feet.
Then she made the mistake of glancing down.
Boiling red liquid groaned like a monster from the deep waiting for its next meal. Lightning struck the sky once more, shaking the very earth at her feet.
The gravel loosened, and her next step faltered.
The world tilted. Her arms pinwheeled. She screamed as gravity took her down and she realized she was heading straight for her death.
She closed her eyes and awaited the boiling pain—
A strong hand clamp around her wrist. She jerked to a halt.
Suspended, stunned, gasping, and so damn glad to be alive, she glanced up at Knox. He was knelt on the ledge, having caught her just in time. She beamed up at him with relief, smiling and waiting for him to pull her up. But then she registered his expression. His eyes shifted between her and the lava below. To her. Back to the lava.
Was he....
No....
But yes....
He was contemplating letting her go!
Her throat constricted, vision blurring, as the horror of her situation sank in.
Once, Knox had admitted to her that if he wanted to end someone’s life, no one would ever find the body.
Those words resonated through her now like a deadly aria.
Only now, as she dangled over the heart of a volcano waiting to swallow her whole, did she realize Knox had just been biding his time. All along, he’d planned to kill her. He’d merely been waiting for the perfect opportunity.
And she had practically aided in the path to her own destruction.
She imagined how Knox would present her death to the others. A tragic accident? Would he paint himself the hero, having done all he could to save her, but he’d just been too darn far away when she had slipped, plummeting hundreds of feet to her inevitable doom? Would Bray believe the story? Would Mace?
Would they secretly be relieved?
Her vision blurred, and a tiny sob squeaked past her lungs as devastation tore through her soul.
Not since she was a small child had she felt so helpless, so disposable. Worthless and unnecessary, living in a world that didn’t want her anyway.
A rift split painfully beneath her ribcage, and she could swear she was dying at this very moment. A tear streamed down her cheek.
Their eyes locked. What was he waiting for? Taking a moment to gloat? Grim acceptance blanketed her mind, leaving room for only one final thought; a last request.
“Promise me something,” she said, hating the quiver that played havoc with her voice. “Just save Mace.” Even without her, Knox could still bring the plant back with him.
Pain sliced across his features. A muscle in his jaw clenched.
The grip on her wrist became firm. Then, in one fluid movement, he pulled her up and set her on her feet. “Grab the plant.”
With only a split second of stiff fascination over her rescue, she pivoted around, and dug her fingers in to the fine, black-charred gravel at the base of the plant. Gripping it by the root, she yanked it free.
Knox snatched it from her and shoved it in his satchel. Then he shoved her ahead of him and told her gruffly to get her ass back up there.
Once they were out of danger and back on solid ground, Cora fought for a steady breath. Thick soupy adrenaline drained out of her body, allowing raw emotion to wash over her. She turned to gaze at him in disbelief, her heart still breaking over what he’d intended, what he’d almost done.
“You were going to let me go!” she accused, her outrage complete.
He faced her, his expression cool, arms by his side. Yet he didn’t deny it, which was a marked affirmation.
Fresh devastation bubbled from the fissure in her chest, the pain searing. Her eyes prickled with more tears.
“You bastard!” She threw herself at him and slammed her fists down on his chest, pummeling with all her might, even knowing she wasn’t strong enough to cause the kind of damage her outrage demanded. “Why didn’t you, then? Huh? Why didn’t you just do it?!”
Thick arms clasped around her torso, pinning her to his chest and ending her tirade.
Then the walls that blocked her fell away.
His emotions poured over her like hot oil, scalding from their unexpected suddenness.
She gasped, shaking, struggling to restart her lungs while shock worked to drain them of air.
Who in all of living history had ever felt such an emotion? Who would not die just a little by having felt it? Her world tipped on its axis, and confusion rolled through her brain like a box of loose marbles—which, she was now convinced, she must be short a few.
She attempted to correct her reality. “But you hate me.”
“I do,” he confirmed without inflection. “I hate you for making me want you. For making me need you more than reason should allow. For making me…love you. For that, I will hate you for the rest of my life.”