The blond would die tonight.
She weaved through the market stalls, smiling as she stared at the jewels glittering in the evening light, a bolt of cloth tucked under her arm. Her blond hair hung to her shoulders, and her white dress clung to her swaying hips … just as Vanessa’s had.
Violet’s hand brushed against Luthen’s as they watched the blond woman from behind the corner of a rug merchant's stall. Her cold, dead skin sent a shiver slithering down his back. Her torn and faded cowl hid her pale features and her milky white eyes. “Pick another,” she hissed.
Luthen growled and jerked his head toward her. “You don’t tell me who I choose.”
“Stop picking ones that look like her, like me.”
“She’s the one.”
“Then she is the last. We’ve been in this village too long.”
Luthen stared at the blond woman, his chest tightening at her smile. Would she smile like that at him? He wet his lips, barely able to wait for his hands to clasp around her neck. To feel the warmth of her flesh, the energy of her touch, her warm blood on his hands, to watch the life drain from her eyes.
Merchants called out their wares to the straggling villagers. Soon, they would begin packing up their stalls, counting their wins and losses. Luthen waited patiently, watching her, waiting for her to stray from the herd. Violet stood behind him silently.
The villagers started to clear out until only a few remained. The blond chatted another moment with the jewelry merchant as he packed his trinkets into wooden boxes. Then she walked off toward the main road. He wondered if she lived close by, if he would need to grab her at the first alley corner, the first empty street.
Luthen led Violet down the dimly lit street, their footsteps silent across the cracked cobblestones. They kept to the shadows of the tightly crammed together ramshackle storefronts, ignoring the odd vagrants huddled in the doorways, on the stoops.
He followed the woman to a side street. His chest swelled with excitement as he stared at her back, her swaying hips. Another girl. Another experiment. He could almost taste the blood on her lips, feel her struggling beneath him.
The dead woman, Violet, walked beside him, a dagger clasped in her pale hand. She had been a handful, left him with a few scars before he had taken her down. His magic bound her to him, but hints of her inner fire remained. Still, she knew her place. She was only there to ensure everything went as planned. He would be the one to give chase, to feel the adrenaline as he grabbed his victim, to see the fear in her eyes.
He’d been watching the blond woman for days, learning her habits, and biding his time.
She walked briskly, the bolt of cloth tucked tightly under her arm. She glanced over her shoulder, but Luthen kept a safe distance. With Violet at his side, he would look less threatening … as long as the blond didn’t see the dead woman’s eyes.
“Miss?”
The woman turned and looked at him, her eyes searching him, blinking nervously.
He chuckled under his breath, keeping a respectful distance. “I’m sorry, miss. I don’t mean to frighten you, but my wife and I are a bit lost, I’m afraid. We must have taken a wrong turn. We're looking to get some grub, and we’ve been wandering the streets for over an hour.”
She glanced at Violet and her expression softened. “These streets have a lot of twists and turns if you don’t know where you’re going.” She smiled and pointed to a side street up ahead on the left. “My friend owns a tavern just down the road. She makes the best venison stew you’ll ever taste.”
“Oh, that sounds delightful. It’s been a long time since I had a good venison stew.” He took a few steps forward. “Thank you for your kindness.”
She nodded and turned.
“Oh, and miss?”
She turned, backed under an awning. He couldn’t see her eyes in the shadow, but he could almost smell the intoxicating scent of her fear. He fingered the dagger in his sleeve. “One more thing. Do they carve it up fresh or is it salted and preserved?” He grinned.
Her smile faded and she glanced up and down the street.
He flicked the dagger from his sleeve and lunged at her. She screamed and dropped her bolt of cloth. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked. She screamed again, and he pulled her toward his chest, clamped a hand over her mouth, and breathed in the scent of her soft blond hair—apples and spice. He moaned as excitement ran through him.
The woman twisted and grunted and flailed at him. This was the part he loved. The chase, the fight, and knowing he had her right where he wanted. She screamed into his hand, then bit down on his palm.
“Bitch!” Luthen hissed and pressed the dagger to her throat. He caught Violet’s milky eyes staring at him. She stood with her curved dagger at her side, waiting to jump in as soon as he gave the signal. But this bitch was his.
Luthen lowered the dagger to the woman’s chest, trapping her arm beneath his. He clamped his other hand around her throat, relishing the gasps, the bobbing of her Adam's apple beneath his palm. He pressed himself against her, holding her firm. She tried to scream, but he pressed harder. She gasped for air, clawing at the hand around her throat. He loved when they squirmed, as if they thought they could get away, escape what he had planned for them. She choked and gagged, kicked and bucked. He stumbled back a step, surprised by her strength, then swept his leg under hers and pulled her in close. “You’re mine.”
“Let … me … go!” she tried to scream, but she didn't have enough breath.
Luthen pressed harder, feeling her swallow beneath his clutching grip. He pulled her in, pressed his cheek against hers, and again breathed in the glorious scent of her hair—of Vanessa's hair. He bit down playfully on her ear.
A pale fist flashed before him as Violet punched the woman in the head.
Luthen jerked his head back, and the woman sagged in his arms. Then he stumbled forward, readjusting to the weight of the girl. He turned to Violet. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“You were going to kill her,” Violet snarled.
“I was enjoying the moment.”
“Well, your moment was taking too long. You’re going to kill her before we’re ready.”
Luthen snarled at his dead slave. “How many times do I have to tell you not to touch their fucking face?”
“You almost lost her.”
“I had it under control.”
Violet snorted. “Let’s get out of here. Someone is bound to have heard her screaming.”
The streets had cleared of villagers. Only the rats scurried about. Luthen carried the woman to the wagon parked several streets down under the shadow of an old oak tree. The old wood creaked as he carefully laid the woman down on a battered rug. Her eyes were closed, her white cotton dress pulled up, exposing her thigh. Luthen dragged his finger down her collarbone and the curve of her breast. He moaned softly, then withdrew, knowing what he would do if he let himself.
Soon, very soon, he would raise her.
Luthen removed the vial of quipid from his pocket. It would put her to sleep for a few hours. He popped off the cork. He pulled the woman’s lower lip down and dripped the liquid into her mouth, massaged her cheeks and neck to force it down her throat.
Violet untied the old gray mare from the tree and led them through the blackened alleys, staying clear of any establishments still open at this late hour as they rode out of the village.
They climbed the hill to the derelict farmhouse, simple and unassuming and somewhat rundown barn-red monstrosity, he had taken over from an elderly couple.
He followed Violet and her torch into the house and down the creaky wooden steps, carrying the woman over his shoulder.
“I’ll be out here if you need me,” Violet said with a little more bitterness than usual. It must have pained her to be banned from the ritual, but after she’d carved lines across a woman’s face and chest several weeks ago, permanently scarring a new slave, he refused to let her stand guard. He could handle his subjects fighting back. He didn’t need her meddling.
Luthen clutched the woman to his chest, not glancing back as Violet shut the door behind him a little too loudly. This was his moment. All the failed experiments had led to this final preparation ritual.
He carried the woman to the long, rectangular workbench in the middle of the room. He’d set out a hair brush, a curved dagger, and his potions on a small side table beside the workbench in preparation for the woman’s capture.
Adrenaline surged in him as he felt the warmth of her body next to his. The quipid would keep her down for about three hours. This would be the final ritual, the final preparation before he went after Vanessa. It had to work. He didn’t know what he’d do if the woman arose an empty shell. He’d almost had it right with Violet. But it wasn’t perfect. She wasn’t perfect.
Large rings, each tied with a length of rope, had been set in the four corners of the bloodstained workbench. He secured her arms and legs, then smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress.
He stared down at her and licked his lips. She was as beautiful as she was as when he’d first seen her in the market. She looked like a younger version of Vanessa, from the days when they’d been happy at the cottage in Gallos. Not the cold bitch she became in the years before she left him.
His heart clenched at the memory. This woman would never leave him. He took the brush from the side table and ran it through her hair, fanned it around her head. So beautiful, even with her eyes closed. He wished he could keep her like this forever, cement her beauty in time. Flawless. Perfect. Just like Vanessa had been when they’d danced at her sister’s wedding. It seemed so long ago.
“She’ll never love you,” a voice in his head said. “As soon as the quipid wears off, she’ll run and scream and call you a monster.” The damned voice never left him, always there, always nagging him. He wished he could shut the bastard up.
“She won’t,” Luthen whispered.
“All the others did.”
“She’s different. I will make her love me.” Luthen stared down at the woman’s full lips, wondering what they tasted like. Maraschino cherries, he thought. No. Strawberry ice cream.
The woman’s eyes fluttered open. There was a moment of hesitation. She seemed to be trying to figure out what was happening, where she was. They always did that first. But then she saw him and her eyes widened in fear. She jerked her arms and legs, snapping the ropes taught, and screamed.
“I’m not a monster!” He slapped her across the face.
She ceased her struggling and lay trembling on the bench, tears running down her temples. “What do you want from me?” she whimpered.
Luthen pressed his finger to his lips. “Shhhh. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“But you just—”
“You made me do that!” He lowered his voice and ran his hand down her cheek. “You have nothing to fear from me. I’m only trying to protect you.”
He grabbed the curved dagger from the wooden table. “Soon, we will be together.”
She stared at him with wide, terrified eyes and shrieked in terror.
“No!” He slapped her again. “Stop. Don’t look at me like that!”
Her cheek was bright red, but the bitch screamed again. He didn’t want to bruise her or make any lasting marks on her face. “Shut up! Shut up!”
But she didn’t. She pulled, yanked, and twisted at the ropes, pounded her fists against the bench. “Help me! Somebody help me!”
Luthen clenched his teeth. Pain flared in his chest as he stared down at her. His breath was hollow in his ears, and his hands trembled violently at his sides. The woman screamed just as Vanessa had the night she ran away from him. The edges of his vision blurred as the memories flashed before him. He pressed a finger to his temple. He didn’t want to remember!
He clutched the dagger’s hilt and looked at the woman thrashing on the bench.
“End it!” the voice in his head screamed.
Luthen stared down at her, his breathing ragged, his hands shaking. “Shut up!” he screamed, as much as to the voice in his head as to her. “I’m not letting you go!” But she kept throwing her body around as if she might break her wrists or ankles to free herself.
He slashed her throat. Her eyes went wide. Blood squirted and bubbled as she sputtered and gasped, her body jerked. He stood over her, breathing heavily, warm blood dripping down his face, his hands, and down the curve of his blade. As he watched her squirm and blubber, the tension in his arms began to unravel.
He wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand and growled. “No one escapes me.”
He could have killed her when she was still unconscious and maybe he should have, but he'd still had hope. That thin shred of hope that was always there, nagging at him, insisting this one would be different.
Above the metallic scent of blood, he could still smell the apples and spice of her hair.
Blood ran down her neck, staining her white cotton dress. The gaping wound across her neck was split wide, the cut uneven. Too messy. His hands had shaken. He had cut her too fast, but she’d given him no choice. Next time, he’d have to do it cleaner, slower. He wanted his wife to be perfect. To look as she was. A scar like this wouldn’t do. And his magic could only fix it so much.
“What happened?” Violet asked from the doorway.
He tried to relax his breathing. He hadn’t heard her enter.
She scoffed. He didn’t have to turn around to see the sneer on her face. “You did it again, didn’t you?”
“Fetch me a basin. I need to clean her up,” he said without looking over his shoulder at her. He hoped she wouldn’t notice the quaver in his voice.
Violet muttered something as she ambled off to carry out his instructions.
Luthen stared down at the woman he was about to revive. He had her now, and she would be his to do as he pleased. The thought calmed him, and he ran his hands through her sticky, bloody hair. “I think I will call you Valerie.” He twirled her hair around his finger, watching the blood run down his hand. Then he sucked the blood from his finger, savoring the iron taste. “Do you like that name?” He grinned. “You will.”
“What do you mean we’re out of beezeffeff?” Luthen turned from the bottles and herb bundles on the shelves, the near empty jar clutched in his hand.
Violet stood behind him, a basin of blood-soaked cloths in her arms. “We’re not out.”
Luthen threw the jar at her head. She ducked and the jar shattered on the corner of the workbench where Valerie lay motionless. “It’s not enough!” He shook his head. “You useless bitch. How am I going to complete the ritual now? You know adding beezeffeff root to the tonic is the key!” Spittle flew from his mouth. “You’re trying to sabotage me!”
Violet remained silent.
“I asked you to do one little thing—make sure we're fully stocked!—and you couldn’t do it.” He jabbed a finger at the bloody corpse on the workbench. “You wasted this one!”
“It’s not wasted,” she said quietly. “I’ll go to the market and get it.”
He snarled. “Useless fucking undead. We still have to wait until morning until the market opens. By then it could be too late.” He balled his hands into fists. “If I lose this one or she rises as a mindless husk, you’re the one that’s going to pay for it.”
Luthen couldn’t sleep that night. He went down to his sanctum several times to check on Valerie. He had removed the ropes from her wrists and ankles and positioned her arms by her sides. Rigor mortis had set in, her skin had paled, and her legs had begun to mottle.
Her skin was like ice, and he was half-tempted to raise her with the potions he had on hand. It’ll work. It has to work.
“And if it doesn’t?” the voice asked.
Luthen pounded his fist on the table. “Then, I’ll get another!”
“You’ll never perfect it. Vanessa will always be out of reach.”
“You lie!” He pressed his fists to his temples. “You don’t know anything! Get out of my head.”
“You can’t escape what you are.”
Luthen swore he heard the voice snicker. He threw down his arms, seething like an enraged bull. “It was you! You drove Vanessa away!” He picked up the curved dagger from the table, its blade wiped clean of blood, and hurled it across the room.
His vision blurred. The laughter in his mind grew louder.
“Get out of my head!” He couldn’t let it win. Couldn’t let it drive away another. There had to be a way of silencing the voice inside his head. He stumbled to the shelves on the far wall and rummaged through the colored bottles.
One of these must be able to kill that damned voice.
His hands trembled as he sorted through the various vials of potions and poisons, reading label after label. Tears blurred his vision, and his rage and desperation turned to despair. What could he possibly take that would silence the voice?
He leaned against the shelf. Bottles clinked, and a few fell crashing to the floor. He cursed and dropped his head in his hands. Will I never escape the monster?
Yet, oddly enough, a silence had fallen upon him. In his anger, he hadn’t realized the voice had stopped. The damned thing probably knew he was going to kill it.
He shook his head of the thought. His lack of sleep and his frustration about Violet’s blunder had made him paranoid. He glanced toward Valerie, her motionless corpse lying so peacefully, awaiting his magic.
One thing at a time.
He strode toward the wooden bench and climbed up beside her. He laid his head on his outstretched arm, watching her breathless lips. He had washed the blood away hours ago and changed her into a floral dress.
She looks just like her.
He sighed and ran his fingers through her hair, caressed her pale skin, and trailed soft kisses down her neck. For hours, he lay next to her, content to just watch her and think of what she could become, of what he could make her into. She looked like Vanessa more than any of the others had. He draped his arm around her, kissed her one last time, and then drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, the clouds were dark and dampness hung in the air. Violet remained silent and wouldn't meet his gaze. She climbed into the driver’s seat of the wagon and said nothing when he climbed into the back without a word. She had found him curled up with Valerie early that morning. She hadn’t spoken of it, but he could see the hurt in her eyes.
He didn’t care. He had walked past her without a word, and she had followed as he knew she would. She steered the wagon toward the market, lowering her head like a wounded dog. Still, Luthen said nothing. He didn’t want to even acknowledge she was there. She didn’t deserve it. He was so angry with her, he couldn't bear the sight of her face. After they reached the village and parked the wagon, he walked ahead of her, taking long strides that forced her to hurry to keep pace.
He weaved through the crowds of villagers moving through the market square, half-hoping he’d lose her, even for a few minutes. He planned to punish her in many vile ways when they returned to the farmhouse. He had to teach the slave her place. The mistakes had to stop. The thought of what he would do to her was almost enough to excite him—
But then he saw Vanessa and his world stopped.
At first, he thought he was mistaken. It must be another lovely blond in a floral dress, but there was no mistaking her walk, her smile…
He wondered what she was doing here. The last he’d seen her was in Walden, a four days ride from here.
She stood at an apothecary stall, seemed to be bartering over the prices of different potions. The vendor looked frustrated and desperate, waving his hands around and rolling his eyes. She didn't smile after she won the argument. She was never one to gloat. She was smart enough to know when someone was trying to cheat her and always landed herself a good deal. That was one of the things he loved about her.
She picked up a small purple bottle and fingered some other colored bottles, turning them to view the labels.
Luthen’s stomach felt hollow as he watched her. She had some experience with low level magic, love potions, and other silliness. But he never knew her to buy her own potions.
She grabbed another bottle and looked up at the greasy-haired vendor and began haggling over the price.
She was as beautiful and feisty as ever.
A primal urge rose up in him and a low, animalistic growl escaped his lips. That long, luxurious hair … he yearned to touch it, to pull it, to drag her to the bedroom by it and devour her body and soul, make her love him again.
He wanted her, had to have her. It could not have been merely chance that she was at the market in Mallis. Fate had driven her here.
It’s time. The feeling was so strong, he could think of nothing else. He had not perfected his tonic, but he couldn’t wait. This was a sign. He’d spent what felt like a lifetime waiting, and now the gods had brought them back together. He’d gone through many versions of her, trying to replace her, even for a moment, but they were not her. They could never be her.
He wanted to feel his hands around her, see the fear in her eyes, the warmth of her blood on his hands. Hear that last gasp before he remade her into the wife she should have been. The wife she was years ago when everything was perfect.
He couldn’t afford to fail. Not with her. This was his one chance. If she came back as a monster or a listless shell…
No. He wouldn’t let that happen. She would be his.
Violet leaned over his shoulder. “You’re not ready.”
Luthen shivered at her voice and cursed her for startling him. He hadn’t noticed she’d caught up to him.
“You’ll just mangle her, kill her. Stick with your plan.”
He balled his hands into fists. “This is my plan.”
“Not yet.”
A rain droplet dripped down the tip of Luthen’s nose. Thunder rumbled in the distance. He looked up and saw that the clouds had grown darker. The rain fell gently at first, then faster. Many of the villagers had abandoned the market, were ducking under awnings or slipping into shops.
Luthen stared at Vanessa, watched her weave through the stalls. Now was his chance.
Violet gently grabbed his wrist. He growled at her touch, but held back, staring at the retreating figure of his lost love. At times, he hated Violet. She had Vanessa’s fire and was more vocal than any of his other slaves had been. After his success with her, he’d killed the others. She helped him move forward with his plans, was at his side whenever he called and often when he didn’t want her to be.
“This might be our only chance.” If Vanessa was here in Mallis, she might not be here long.
Violet frowned, then nodded.
He shuddered with nervous energy. “Keep an eye on her.” He pulled his cowl down over his face and purchased the beezeffeff root before the vendor slipped away. It was outrageously priced. The vendor couldn’t even hold back his self-satisfied grin, but Luthen didn’t want to draw attention to himself or risk losing Vanessa.
Vanessa walked briskly down the street, glass bottles clinking in the satchel at her hip. Her hair hung in heavy strands, her floral dress clinging to her curvy figure. The rain had started to slow, but the clouds remained dark, promising another downpour. Vanessa should have known better than to be out here. Several women had disappeared from these streets lately.
Luthen grinned. Apparently, word had not traveled back to Walden. By the gods, she was so beautiful. He couldn’t have chosen a better moment. The rain had driven away most of the foot traffic. He pulled Violet into a shadowy alcove. Vanessa looked around. She seemed wary, expecting trouble. As she should be.
But she passed him without notice.
They’d known she would come this way. It was the only way back to the inns. She was a few feet away. He was about to step out of the shadows, but Violet’s hand brushed his. His anger flared and he nearly struck her. He was tired of her meddling.
He heard footsteps on the cobblestones. A tall man in black leather armor appeared in the square.
The man silently approached Vanessa from behind and touched her shoulder. She jumped and turned, clamping her hand over her mouth.
Luthen ground his teeth. He wanted to step in and protect her.
“Have you seen him?” the man asked, his voice low.
Vanessa shook her head.
“He’s here.” The man glanced down the dark street. “We’ll find him.”
Vanessa nodded, keeping her head low. The man retreated, leaving her standing alone in the street. He melded with the shadows. Even knowing he was there, Luthen had a hard time pinpointing his dark silhouette.
“We’ll find him.” The man’s voice played over and over in Luthen’s mind. A fucking mage hunter. He had to be. It was the only thing that made sense.
Luthen growled.
Violet tugged his arm. “We need to go.”
He shrugged her off and stared at the retreating figure of his ex-wife. Even with the mage hunters on his trail, he couldn’t bring himself to turn away. “No, I’ve waited too long. We need to do this now.”
“We need to leave,” Violet said.
“Not without her.”
“They’re after you. It’s only a matter of time before they find you.”
“I'm not leaving! They’ll be after her to once they realize what she is. I have to protect her.”
“This is wrong. Everything about this wrong. You’ve already stolen too many women from these streets.”
Luthen rolled his eyes. He’d killed them all. They were close, so very close, but brutal reminders he hadn’t perfected the ritual. At this point, he couldn’t accept anything less than perfection.
“Are you listening to me?” Violet asked. “Someone will come looking for her, especially if she’s spoken with them. We must continue your research somewhere else.”
“But I’ll lose her.” His voice cracked. “I’ve worked too hard to find her. I’ve been too long without her. I need her.”
Violet grabbed his wrist and jerked him backward. “The mage hunters will find you,” she hissed. “Does that mean nothing to you?”
“They won’t.”
“Don’t be stupid. She’s spoken to them. She knows you better than anyone else. It’s only a matter of time.”
“I can’t leave without her.”
“You must.”
He jerked his hand away. “I can’t!”
“Am I not enough to replace her, to make you forget about her?” Violet had the audacity to push her lower lip into a pout.
How stupid the undead were. They would never understand the emotions of the living, the needs that they could not fulfill.
“You’ll never be her.”
She turned left into an alley up ahead, and Luthen ran down the alley immediately to his left. When he reached the next street, he turned right and cut her off at the corner of the alley she'd taken. “You look beautiful this morning.”
Vanessa whipped around, her eyes wide. Recognition flashed on her face, and she glared at him. “Get away from me, Luthen.” She looked around, obviously hoping her friend would emerge from the shadows to save her, but no one came.
We are alone. And you are mine. He hid his smile. He was so close now.
Luthen stepped toward her. There was no escaping. All of his preparation had led to this moment.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You and I are not together. We’ve been through this. Just leave me alone.”
“She doesn’t want you,” the voice in his head whispered.
Tears welled in Luthen’s eyes, and a stabbing pain blossomed in his chest. The rejection was as painful now as it was then. He tried to suck in a breath. She didn’t know what she was talking about, what she was missing. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. “We made a vow,” he said, his voice trembling with rage. “Nothing, not even death can break that.”
Vanessa took a step back. “Luthen, you’re scaring me. Please, just leave me alone. I-It’s over.”
He lunged and grabbed her by the neck. “No! I’ll tell you when it’s over!”
He should have killed her, spilled her blood on the cobbles and drank it up. He had practiced so long, had envisioned her death and the moment he would raise her. Only then would she would look into his eyes like she had so many years ago. He had never stopped loving her, couldn’t stop loving her. He had tried. Oh, how he’d tried. He couldn’t get her out of his head. No matter what he did, the bitch was always there.
And now he had her. He’d given Vanessa triple the regular quipid dose to keep her down long enough to raise Valerie. As much as he longed to raise Vanessa right there and then, he had one last ritual to perform.
He’d left Vanessa tied in an upstairs bedroom to await his return.
Luthen stared down at Valerie, nervous energy tightening his chest. She sat up on the wooden bench, her eyes milky white. The blue floral dress hung from her luscious curves. Luthen stared at her, gauging her reaction to her revivification.
She stared blankly into his eyes.
“Come, my pet.”
Valerie swung her legs over the bench and reached for him, her skin pale yet still so beautiful. He longed to be close to her, to feel her touch, and taste the lips of the woman he’d created. This time it would be right. He stepped forward between her legs. She gently caressed the side of his cheek. Her hand wasn’t quite warm, nor was it ice cold. He closed his eyes, relishing in the touch. She looked so much like her.
He wrapped his hands around Valerie’s waist, pulled her toward him. She didn’t resist. Instead, she slipped her hand behind his neck and leaned closer.
He was inches from her lips when she dug her nails into the back of his neck and pulled him forward. That fire! He brushed his lips against hers and she bit down. Blood filled his mouth and he tried to pull away, but she was stronger than he’d expected. She glared at him, baring her bloody teeth.
“You crazy bitch!” He shoved her chest and she fell back on the bench. “Do you know how much time and effort I have put in to have you?” Luthen took a step back and spat blood onto the floor.
Valerie jumped down from the bench and lunged at him, but he caught her in his arms. She gnashed her teeth and raked her fingernails down his arms, trying to break free. Adrenaline rushed through him. He reveled in the fight. He elbowed her in the face, and she staggered back a step.
She stared at him with colorless eyes, hungry, a lioness ready to pounce, and leapt forward.
Panting, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and threw her on her back. Sweat trickled down his face as he dropped to his knees and mounted her, pinning her arms above her head. “I haven’t had this much fun since Vanessa left me.”
She hissed, struggled beneath him.
He’d pinned Vanessa down just like this, though she had screamed and spit at him.
The thought made him hard. He pressed himself against her. He would take what was rightfully his and enjoy every second of it.
But as he looked into Valerie’s white eyes, he realized she wasn’t Vanessa.
He needed Vanessa, the real Vanessa. Now. He couldn’t wait. If this was what Vanessa would return as, he’d enjoy every moment of it.
He was ready … even if the ritual wasn’t.
Valerie struggled beneath him. He’d waited this long for Vanessa. What was another ten minutes? “Violet! Help me tie this one down! She needs to be tamed before we bring Vanessa down here.”
Vanessa lay unconscious on the wooden workbench, her wrists and ankles tied to the rings, a crust of quipid on her lower lip. He stared at her and caressed her cheek. After all this time, he finally had her. He gently trailed the tip of his dagger along her collarbone and down her breast to her nipple. The mere sensation sent gave him shivers, made him stiffen. It would be so easy to kill her now. To complete the ritual he had spent the last few years preparing for.
One clean slice.
He hovered over her, the dagger trembling in his hand. Chains jangled from the corner where Valerie hissed and wrenched on her restraints. Luthen ignored the undead slave. She was nothing now that he had Vanessa.
“Kill her!” the voice screamed in his head. “Make her yours!”
Yet, he couldn’t move.
“But I love her.”
“She doesn’t love you. She’ll never love you after what you’ve done. This is the only way.”
As much as he hated the voice’s incessant nattering, Luthen knew the words were true. He had done this so many times before, and yet his hand was shaking as badly as it had with the first woman he had killed. She’d looked so much like Vanessa he’d lost control with her. He’d stabbed her in the face, the chest, and the legs, stabbed her so many times she’d stopped bleeding before he was finished. He’d buried the mutilated carcass in the woods. It was too mutilated to be of use. He’d had to get another.
Luthen stared down at his ex-wife, still in disbelief that she was here, tied to the bench. But the only way to make it permanent was to kill her.
Still, he couldn’t.
“You’re a coward!” the voice hissed.
Luthen growled and whipped the dagger at the wall. Steel clanged and the blade bounced back across the floor.
“Why can’t you do it? She’s right there. What are you waiting for?”
“She’s still my wife.”
“She is nothing.”
“She is everything!”
“Then kill her. Make her yours.”
Luthen circled around the workbench and snatched the dagger from the floor. He didn’t understand why he couldn't kill her. And he didn’t have much time. If he was going to do it, he had to do it now, before she woke up. Before she looked at him again with those judging eyes. He couldn’t bear it.
He noticed Violet standing in the doorway watching him.
“What are you doing here?” he shouted. “Get out! Let me do this my way!”
She whirled and slammed the door behind her.
He turned back to Vanessa. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” he whispered. A tear streaked down his cheek. “We had something special, but you tossed me out like a drunken beggar. I never thought you could do such a thing. We were meant to be together, forever. I will make you see, make you understand.” He kissed her lips and stared at her face, so soft, so unassuming. He pressed his dagger to her throat. “Even if this is the only way.”
Vanessa opened her eyes. She screamed and knocked the dagger from his hand.
Luthen stumbled back. The quipid shouldn’t have worn off yet. He’d given her enough to knock her out for the night.
Fires sparked around her wrists, and tiny flames trailed along the ropes.
“No!” he screamed.
She burned through the restraints and jumped off of the bench. “Luthen!”
He stood frozen, in shock. She shouldn’t have been able to break free. All the others had slept for hours and had been sluggish and groggy after waking up from the quipid. Her magic, he realized. She must have protected herself against it.
The door banged against the wall behind him, and Violet barged into the room. “Dammit, what happened? Why is she awake?”
But he couldn’t speak. He could only look into the fiery eyes of his wife. The hatred and fear in them tore him to pieces. He could change that, could change her back like she was.
Violet strode toward him. “Don’t just stand there! Kill her!”
“I … I can’t.”
“Then I will!” She grabbed the dagger from him.
Vanessa flicked her wrists and small fires hovered over her palms. “Don’t take another step.” Something flickered in her eyes as she looked at Violet, whether it was confusion or fear of seeing a reflection of herself, Luthen wasn’t sure.
“Don’t touch her!” he shouted when Violet approached her. “I have to be the one to do it.”
“But you’ll—”
He punched Violet in the temple. She hissed and slammed the hilt of the dagger into his hand. He screamed at her again. “Get out of here! You’re making things worse.”
Luthen turned to Vanessa. The flames hovering above her palms seemed to be dwindling. She would never use her magic against another person. For the most part, she had kept her magic hidden. But he was backing her against the wall.
She had escaped him before. He wouldn't let her do it again. “I’m sorry, Vanessa, but it has to be this way.”
Tears streamed down her face, and the fires in her hands died out completely. “Luthen, please. Can we talk this out?”
“You loved me.”
“B-but look what you’ve become, what the dark magic has done to you.” Her glassy eyes darted around the room, but there was no escape. “What do you want?”
He sneered. “You and only you. I’m going to do what no one else has done or even dreamed of before. You don’t understand, and you never will … until I turn you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’ll never turn me. I see what you’re doing. I know about the missing girls.” She glanced toward the chained undead woman in the corner, and her expression hardened. “The mage hunters will find you. If I can follow your trail, so can they.”
“She lies,” the voice in his head hissed. “Kill her now.”
“But she did find me,” he muttered under his breath. “How did she find me?”
“She’s getting into your head. Don’t let her poison your thoughts.”
The pressure was too much. Luthen's legs suddenly felt heavy. He felt tired.
He looked up at Vanessa. She had pressed herself to the wall, eyes darting at the door behind him. So beautiful, but she was like a caged beast. She had turned the other mages on him, had twisted all he had done to make him look like a monster. For that, she could never be forgiven.
“It’s over, Luthen,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “You have to let me go.”
A crash sounded behind him, somewhere to his right.
Fear tightened his chest. He looked at her, frantic, panicked.
The bitch had the audacity to smile. “I told you.”
She had led him into a trap! He had to kill her, now. There was no other way.
He heard shouting through the walls.
Violet burst through the door and slammed it behind her. She glared at Vanessa, then at Luthen. “What the fuck are you waiting for?” She strode across the sanctum and grabbed his arm. “They’ve found us. We have to go.”
“I can’t! Not when I’m this close!” He glanced at Vanessa, frantic. He couldn’t lose her!
“We don’t have a choice! Let’s go!” She dug her nails into his wrist.
Someone pounded on the door.
“I’m in here!” Vanessa screamed.
Luthen lunged at her. She punched him twice in the ribs before he was able to grab her wrist and yank it behind her. He pressed his dagger to her neck. “Shut your fucking mouth.”
Two men in leather armor entered the room, a bald mage hunter with a sword and a spiky-haired hunter pointing a large crossbow at Luthen.
The bald hunter stepped forward, his sword raised. Black tattoos trailed up from the collar of his leather armor to the bottom of his ear. Instinctively, Luthen knew this was the same man who had spoken to Vanessa earlier. Perhaps it was the man’s smug grin or the way he looked at her, but Luthen swore there was something going on between this man and his ex-wife.
“There you are, you sneaky bastard,” the mage hunter said, his gaze falling on the bloodstained bench.
Valerie yanked on the chains that restrained her to the wall, hissing and spitting at the hunters.
The mage hunter chuckled. “Are we interrupting something?” He turned to the other hunter. “Take care of the undead girl in the corner.” The spiky-haired hunter shot a crossbow through Valerie’s throat and she crumpled to the floor.
Luthen held Vanessa to his chest, the dagger poised at her neck. “You cannot stop me.”
The bald man grinned. “I think we already did.”
“No.” Luthen jerked his head toward the workbench. “I’ll just kill you and raise you as a fucking slave.”
The hunter laughed and his eyes darted toward Violet. “Is that how you get them to obey?” She tried to stab him with her dagger, and he severed her arm with his sword.
She didn’t cry out, but Luthen cringed all the same. The hunter slashed his blade effortlessly through her neck. She crumpled to the floor. Her decapitated head rolled under the workbench.
The pain of seeing Violet lying on the floor struck Luthen like a blow to his stomach. She was the only one who loved him, protected him, fought for him. Losing her was like losing a piece of Vanessa.
He howled and used his magic to throw the workbench at the mage hunters. The bench slammed into the two men, knocking them backward into the bookshelf behind them. The mage hunters yelled and cursed as thick, leather bound books tumbled on top of them.
Vanessa struggled in his grasp. He angled his blade away from her to prevent the bitch from getting herself cut. She was strong, and even stronger with her magic. But she wouldn’t dare use it. Not in front of the mage hunters. They had to escape.
Vanessa stomped on Luthen’s foot.
“Burn them!” the voice in his head screamed.
Luthen conjured a small fireball and tossed it at the bench, but the wood didn’t take.
“Dammit bitch, don’t you see what I’m trying to do?” He squeezed her to his chest. She screamed again and raked her fingers down his forearm, drawing blood.
The mage hunters managed to kick the workbench off. Luthen focused his energy on the wood in the center of the bench. A large chunk broke off and exploded into a thousand splinters. The hunters growled and cursed, bloody wood shards sticking from their faces.
Vanessa tried to throw her body sideways, but Luthen held her tight.
The tall hunter with the spiked hair tossed a book to his side and jumped to his feet. He sneered and swiped his crossbow from the floor. “Shouldn’t have done that.”
The bald hunter pointed his sword at Luthen. “You’re fucking dead.”
The hunter with the crossbow drew a bolt from his quiver, but the shaft must have snapped when he’d been thrown to the ground.
Not waiting for him to draw another, Luthen threw two fireballs at the hunters, but with Vanessa struggling within his arms, the flames went wide. He looked around his sanctum, trying to figure a way out. The side table. He used his magic to levitate it off the floor and slammed it into the hunter with the crossbow.
The hunter staggered backward, his crossbow held protectively above his head.
The bald hunter charged at Luthen from the left.
Luthen shoved his hand forward. A blast of wind slammed into the stomach of the bald hunter. The hunter doubled over and vomited as he was thrown back. His sword spun through the air. Chunks of bile splashed to the ground.
Luthen turned in time to see the bowman drawing another bolt. Fucking hunters! He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t think fast enough. Sweat trickled down his face. He dropped his gaze to Violet, her severed arm and tangled body in a bloodless heap.
His breath was ragged as he focused his dwindling energy on the severed head beneath the workbench. He screamed and used his magic to hurl it at the crossbow. He missed the bow, but the head smacked off the hunter’s face. There was a snap of bone and the hunter collapsed.
He yanked Vanessa back in close. She pushed and pulled as he forced her forward. She tried to stomp on his foot, but he moved it away in time. “Listen bitch, these are fucking mage hunters. They’re not here to save you. You’re coming with me.” He scoffed. “Why the fuck would you risk getting involved with them? Are you that stupid?”
She had never fought him like this before. She had resisted him the night she’d left. But not like this.
She elbowed him in the stomach. He grunted, but refused to let her go. He’d kill her before he’d let her get away again. “Stop resisting. Don’t you see what’s happening? They’ll kill you too. I don’t want you to get hurt. Please, come with me.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“They’ll find out what you are,” he whispered, and she paused her struggling. “I’ll tell them.”
One of the hunters moaned.
Why won’t these fuckers stay down?
Luthen stepped toward the shelves. Vanessa bent over, tried to break free. Fucking bitch! He had thought he had gotten through to her. “I have an idea, but you have to trust me.” He hissed through his teeth as he lowered the blade, deathly afraid of losing control over her.
She slammed her elbow into his face, but he held her, growling. “I’m trying to help you.” He tried to flip the blade into his sleeve. It took three attempts and he nearly lost his grip on her, but finally he did it.
He reached for a red bottle of spurntail on the shelf, knocking several bottles off the ledge. He grabbed the red bottle between two fingers, then a blue bottle from the back of the shelf with his index finger and thumb. Glancing toward the two hunters across the room, he bit the cork off the red bottle of spurntail and spit it on the shelf.
Vanessa stopped struggling. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Break the fuck out.”
“You’ll kill us and them.”
“I’m giving us a chance.”
“Luthen—”
He tossed the red vial on the floor. It rolled toward the swordsman rising to his feet, spilling its orange contents on the floor. He conjured a flame and tossed it into liquid.
Vanessa pulled closer to him and pressed her head to his chest as the spurntail caught fire and spread across the floor, rising one, then three feet into the air. Vanessa screamed. His sanctum was lost. All his research, his potions … gone. But he would get out alive … with Vanessa.
“You idiot! How are we going to get out?” She coughed. “That was the only way.”
“I make my own way out.” He held up the small blue bottle.
“Is that—?”
He nodded. “You might want to cover your head.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind! You’ll kill us.”
“It’ll work.” But even Luthen didn’t know if it would. Ostate was so volatile … in such a small space… But it was their only chance. If they died, they died in each other’s arms. He bit off the cork and rolled the blue vial toward the wall. Vanessa kicked and bucked, but he held her with a deathly grip. He cast a fireball into the purple liquid and jumped back.
The wall exploded, chunks of stone and dust flying in all directions. Wood cracked. His ears rang. A cloud of dust filled the room. He couldn’t see. For a moment, only the warmth of Vanessa’s body against him told him he had survived.
He thought he heard the mage hunters screaming as parts of the ceiling began to collapse.
“Kill them! Kill them all!” the voice roared.
The dust began to settle. Blood was gushing from a deep gash across Vanessa’s cheek.
I can fix it. I can make her perfect. Luthen turned toward the gaping hole in the wall. Rubble was piled against the wall from a gap near the ceiling. The moon shone through it like a silver beacon.
“Climb up!” He pulled Vanessa’s arm. He didn’t know if the mage hunters still lived.
“I don’t want to go with you!” she screamed as she tried to pull away from him. Tears streaked down her face, leaving trails in the dust smudged across her cheeks.
“You’d rather die?”
“Yes!”
He growled and pulled her up the jagged stone pile. He would break her arms and legs and carry her out of there if he had to.
A crossbow bolt slammed into a crevice in the stones inches to her right. She screamed and scrambled up the stones.
The gap at the top of the wall was barely more than three feet high. A cool breeze filtered through, calming the heat in Luthen’s cheeks. A few more feet and they could slip out and run across the cornfield into the forest.
A bolt grazed his ankle and he yelped, cursing Vanessa’s slowness. If she hadn’t struggled, they would have been out by now.
He climbed out of the hole, pulling her behind him. Clumps of dirt, grass, and stone from the explosion were scattered just outside the house. He dragged her onto the grass and yanked her arm to get her to stand. She slid on her knees, skidded across the dirt and rubble, then stumbled to her feet.
“Run!” He dashed forward, pulling her by the arm.
“Let go of me!”
Luthen slowed to look back at the ruin of his sanctum. Blue, pink, and orange smoke climbed through gap where they’d escape. Even Vanessa stopped to stare.
“The fire. It’s reached the potions.” His heart fell. So much lost. He clutched onto Vanessa. “We need to get as far away from here as we can.”
A bright light flashed from the hole in the basement. An explosion rumbled, shook the foundation of the house. Glass shattered.
“Come on,” he said, tugging on her wrist.
“I told you, I’m not coming with you.” She kneed him in the groin and broke free from his grasp.
Luthen grimaced, clutched his crotch with both hands. Then he leapt after her. He grabbed her by the arm, slammed her to the dirt. She kicked and twisted, but he pinned her down. “Stop fighting who you are. You took an oath. A sacred oath. You belong to me.” He flipped the blade from his sleeve and plunged it into her chest.