XV

IN RED

“I CURSED MYSELF. Of course that unholy bitch would be here to meet her father as he crossed the Godsend. Laure Voss had come upon us from behind like a thief, and I’d left our backs exposed like a fool. From the look, Noam and the others had set the ignis charges, but now Laure was tearing them to pieces, and with none to light the fuse …

“‘Can you hold them?’ I roared to Aaron, cutting down another wretched.

“‘Or die trying!’

“‘When I give the signal, you run back up this slope!’

“‘Go, Little Lion!’ Baptiste bellowed. ‘Almighty go with you!’

“Turning from my brothers, I dashed back up the ridge. I saw the bright blooms of silverbombs, sluices of blood. The blackthumbs fought bravely, but they were Brothers of the Hearth, not Hunt, and they stood now against a daughter of the Forever King.

“Their torches sputtered and failed, plunging the ridge back into darkness. Lightning split the sky, a brilliant arc, and I saw a blood-red shadow flickering across the snow toward the tower of Sanael, and the sisters firing from its shelter.

“‘Charlotte, get back! Astrid, RUN! ’

“I heard a scream in the black, heart twisting in my chest, but then I was among them, sword high, scything toward that figure bathed in my aegis’s light. Laure was drenched to the armpits in gore, chin and throat painted scarlet, all semblance of the beauty I’d seen in Coste cast aside. A monster now, bleak and true.

“Slipping aside from my blow and flashing back to the fringe of my light, the Forever Prince drew herself up to her full height. Her scarlet gown flowed about her like mist in the freezing winds, long red hair plastered to the blood soaking her skin.

“‘Get back!’ I spat. ‘In the name of God and Redeemer!’

“‘I told thee once, boy. No power hast thy God over me.’

“The sisters gathered behind me in the shelter of my light. I could feel Astrid there, and I breathed a prayer of thanks. But the bodies of other sisters were split and bleeding in the snow, Keeper Logan and Keeper Micah beside them. Glancing down the slope, I could see Aaron and Baptiste had lost their ground, falling back now before that relentless tide. We had only moments before the legion swept up the pass and overran us all.

“Laure smiled, and I felt the venom of her, seeping into my mind.

“‘I shall have thee on thy knees, frailblood. I shall taste thee unto dying.’

“A grey crust of ashes and blood was on my skin, and my aegis burned with holy fire. Laure’s eyes narrowed against it as I hurled my last silverbomb, feeling the heat on my skin as I swung my blade. I threw all I had behind that blow, and it landed true. But her flesh was ever stone as I struck her, and her fist was a battering ram as she hit me back.

“The breath left my lungs. I felt something tear. And then I was flying, hitting hard. Black stars bloomed as Laure leaned over me, arms open to break me.

“Tiny thunder blasts rang out across the ridge, a half-dozen shots of pure and blessed silver crashing into Laure’s face, chest, throat. She reeled backward, a cobweb of cracks across her skin. I blinked the blood from my eyes, Prioress Charlotte roaring, ‘Reload!’

“All heaven held its breath. All time stood still. I rose up out of the snow, Lionclaw in my fist, and with all my strength and the name of God upon my lips, I drew back my blade and plunged it into Laure’s chest.

“Again, she struck me, claws tearing my skin and sending me flying back into the tower. The masonry smashed to dust as I hit, blood in my mouth, ribs shattering. The ancien staggered as she clutched Lionclaw, now buried to the hilt in her chest. But still, this Ironheart bitch wouldn’t fucking fall. Her face twisted, and my heart sank as she took hold of the blade with smoking hands and dragged it from her shattered breast.

“‘I am a Prince of Forever. Think ye a sliver such as this can end me?’

“Prioress Charlotte stepped forward, the wheel about her neck like silver fire, the clawmarks across her face twisting as she bellowed, ‘In the Mothermaid’s name, I say back!’

“The vampire hissed, one hand up against the light. And with the other, she lifted the blade she’d just pulled from her chest and hurled it. I heard Astrid cry out as the sword plowed into Charlotte’s skull, splitting it in half and sending the prioress’s body sailing back like a rag doll. And as those bottomless eyes fell on Astrid, I dragged myself to my feet.

“My silverbombs and holy water were spent; I’d nothing left to throw. And so I threw myself, crashing into Laure and bringing us both down into the snow.

“Her fist collided with my skull, and she climbed astride me, black eyes narrowed against my aegis, gore-slick hands sizzling as they closed about my throat. Her breast was shattered where my sword had struck, but still she lived, her strength the sum of ten thousand stolen lives. I could feel the chill off her skin. See death in her eyes.

“‘Is this the best of thee? So feeble, thy final gasp? E’en the babes of thy beloved Lorson fought fiercer than this afore I bathed in them.’

“My heart froze in my chest. ‘… What?’

“Her lips curled, all the horror of hell in her eyes. ‘Vowed did I, that all thou hast I wouldst take, Gabriel de León. Thy home. Thy mother. Thy little Celene…’

“‘You lie!’

“Laughter rang across the frozen peaks, black and bleak. ‘A palace shall I build of thy suffering, frailblood. Upon a throne of thy misery shall I reign. All sh—’

“Lionclaw crashed across the back of Laure’s head, bone splitting, blood splashing. The vampire reeled, hissing, fangs bared.

“‘The only queen on this mountain is me,’ Astrid spat.

“Standing above us, she drew back my bloody blade for another strike.

“‘And he’s no frailbood, you unholy cunt.’

“There’s a liberation in death. When you know you’re going to die, the fear of it departs. All that remains is the rage. And as I seized hold of Laure’s throat, that was all I felt. Rage. I pictured my mama, braiding my hair on my saintsdays, teaching me to wear my name like a crown. I saw my baby sister, my little hellion, my Celene, laughing as I told her some bawdy tale, hearing her voice in the letters I’d never answered. And last, I thought of my other sister. My sweet Amélie. The girl who told us stories of an eve, who danced as if to music only she could hear. Ma famille. My heart. And this leech had ripped all of it away. I was back in the mud of Lorson then. The day what was left of Amélie came home. And I felt it, ringing in my head like a song to which I already knew the words. A promise. A name.

“Esani.

“My hand tightened about her throat and I felt it; all my hate and all my fury seething under my skin. Laure’s eyes grew wide and her mouth opened as her throat began to blacken under my touch. She seized my hand, but still I squeezed, steam rising from the cracks as her blood began boiling beneath her skin.

“‘Release me!’

“She screamed, immortal flesh burning in my grip, that porcelain charring to the bone. Boiling blood spilled down my arm, scalding, steaming, but still I held on, pushing her off me now and down into the snow, her flesh crumbling in my hand. Those ageless eyes melted and ran down her cheeks like candle wax as she cried out again.

“‘FATHER!’

“And across the black between us, I heard a roar of purest rage ring out in reply. I could hear the anguish in it. The hatred, an eternity wide. But with one final scream, the Wraith in Red’s spine arched, and her boiling tongue lolled between her fangs, and with all the fury of centuries denied, Laure Voss burst into ashes in my grip, leaving little but a smoking wound in the snow and the remnants of a tattered gown, red as blood.

“I staggered to my feet, and Astrid met my eyes. ‘Gabe…’

“‘Take shelter in the tower,’ I gasped. ‘Go!’

“Breathless, bleeding, I ran across crimson snow toward the ignis barrels. Aaron and Baptiste had abandoned the fight below, the Endless Legion howling behind them. I roared ‘RUN FASTER!’ as I reached the snowpack, searching the powder for the matchline cords. Fumbling for my flintbox, I pressed flame to fuse. The line spat sparks, fire hissing down its length toward those buried barrels and the doom inside.

“‘De Coste! Baptiste!’ I roared. ‘RUN!’ And then I was sprinting up the slope, snow crunching beneath my boots, toward the only salvation I could see. The ignis detonated behind me, muffled by storm and snow. But beneath, I heard a fearsome sound, like the tread of mighty boots. A great cracking, as the fresh powder from that raging storm fractured, a split cascading across Gabriel’s peak and loosing the weaker snows beneath.

“I felt the ground giving way, trying desperately to keep my footing. But the whole pack crumbled, and I flung myself across the brink toward my only hope—the outstretched hand of that towering angel, still buried beneath the snow. It was the bloodhymn that saved me, I think. That, and perhaps the hand of God. And I crashed against Gabriel’s open palm, digging my fingers into the tower’s stone as all the world came apart.

“The whole Godsend rang with the thunder of it. God only knows how much snow was loosed. A tidal wave of grey, a calamity crashing down the mountain’s face, ever picking up more weight and speed. And as the Endless Legion was swept back down the mountain, I felt him, like clawed and frozen fingers digging into my skull.

“The vow of a father eternal, to the one who’d murdered his daughter beloved.

“‘I have forever, boy.’

“‘I am forever.’”