Chapter 36 Chapter 36

Chapter 36 Chapter 36
Bailey’s POV

Under attack? Oh crap. Wait — this could be an opportunity. I just had to be patient a little longer.

Forgetting that Nathaniel was still on top of me, pressing with his torso and thighs, I realized I couldn’t move him. He was freakishly strong.

“Do you mind?!” I finally snapped. This position was making me unbearably uncomfortable.

Nathaniel shifted his gaze from Ben to me. For a heartbeat I saw something flicker in his eyes — anger, hatred, a hint of guilt, and then, most disturbingly, desire. I kept telling myself I was imagining it. Desire didn’t belong to him.

Before I could think further, he stood up and hauled me to my feet by the arm. The sudden motion made me dizzy.

“Where?” he asked, clipped and efficient. Calm and calculating — not the comforting kind. His eyes promised bloody murder for whoever had breached the walls.

“From the sky. They’re trying to enter above the shield. The general’s reports are partial — something’s disturbing his thoughts, they’re incoherent,” Benjamin answered.

“So Vincent is finally back? Took him long enough,” Nathaniel sneered.

Vincent. The famous general. I wondered if he’d be as steady as Lucian and Ben.

Nathaniel didn’t let go of my hand. He held it firmly; power seemed to dance under his skin. It sent a prickle down my spine and made my hair stand on end.

“Let’s go.” With that he teleported us to the main gate. Benjamin appeared a beat later.

The gate area was chaos. Armored soldiers everywhere. People running, screaming. Mini-quakes shuddered the earth now and then — like something huge pounding at distant walls. The noise was a living thing: prayers, terrified babble, the panicked thoughts of hundreds of people flooding my head. The telepathy was going haywire. My temples pounded.

‘You need to focus, child, or your head might explode,’ the First Born rasped in my ear, materializing as he always did. I glanced at Nathaniel; he was on a war footing, barking orders, planning counterattacks. He couldn’t see or sense the First Born. Why not?

‘We’ll get to that later. Now exclude the voices. Remember what Ben taught you. Focus,’ the First Born snapped, snapping his fingers near my face to jolt me.

I forced my eyes closed and reached for a single steady thought — something small and bright. Think happy thoughts. Think happy thoughts.

Gradually the cacophony quieted to a roar I could ignore. The headache eased.

“My lord — they breached the shield at the top. We need to regroup,” a soldier reported.

A new figure landed among us: older than Nathaniel and Benjamin, broad-shouldered, short blonde hair gelled back, lighter, brighter armor than the other soldiers. Vincent — General Vincent.

“Vincent. About time,” Nathaniel barked.

“Forgive me, my lord. Our ship was delayed,” Vincent said.

“By what? Giant birds?” Nathaniel snorted.

“No, my lord. We went by sea. Safer than flying when gargoyles swarm the skies.” Vincent’s voice was steady, but his words landed like a warning. Gargoyles?

Nathaniel’s face went hard. “Then explain why gargoyles are attacking our walls.”

Vincent swallowed. “They followed us, my lord. We suspect they were directed.”

Silence fell. Gargoyles, we’d always been taught, were mindless stone guardians: they attack on sight, not stalk or organize. Lucian, who’d appeared behind me in his lab coat, added, “Unless someone controls them.”

Nathaniel’s reply was cold. “Controlling so many requires tremendous power. Not even a force equal to the black heart—unless—”

He didn’t finish. A thunderous blast nearby cut him off. Several soldiers were hurled skyward like ragdolls and hit the ground with sickening thuds. Screams shredded the air. One man was seized by a winged, horned, batlike thing — a nightmare creature — and flung into the crowd. Stone gargoyles swarmed, claws and teeth tearing, fire and magic colliding.

I saw one gargoyle whose eyes glowed fierce red — more dragon than gargoyle — and it seemed to be issuing orders. Nathaniel’s stare fixed on that leader.

“Why is the shield weaker? Has Idris been dosed?” Nathaniel barked.

“Two days ago… we had to put him to sleep. He lost control,” Ben answered, reluctantly.

“And why was he dosed?” Nathaniel’s glare promised punishment.

“He was killing men, my lord. We couldn’t risk more.” Ben’s voice was flat as steel. Nathaniel barely listened; his attention was on the red-eyed leader, who suddenly peered straight at me. The intensity of that gaze bore into my skull.

‘Bailey… Bailey Durant…’ hissed a modified, sibilant voice in my head. The gargoyle — or whoever controlled it — reached me telepathically.

“Who are you?” I shot back with the mind-link.

‘I am your ally. Nathaniel Thorn is the true enemy. Join me and I will help you release the darkness that imprisons you.’ The leader’s voice slithered into my thoughts. ‘Freedom. Tristan Thorn. Answers.’

He knew where Tristan was. My heart lurched. Tristan. The name was a key I’d been desperate to turn.

This was it. My chance to escape. I tried to think fast and stay calm.

“Send one of your gargoyles to me,” I told him through the link. He acknowledged with a subtle nod I somehow felt. While soldiers and citizens fought for their lives, I braced myself.

A bat-winged gargoyle broke through the melee and charged straight at me. Lucian hurled an energy ball; it missed. Ben shot a beam; the thing twisted and clouted him with its wing, sending him skidding. The gargoyle closed and snatched at me with three hooked claws.

The world tilted. I felt the iron grip of its talons on my arm — then we were skyborne, slashed by wind, zooming up through the breach where the shield had failed. For a breath I thought — freedom. Then the gargoyle disintegrated beneath me, splintering into stone dust. I fell, stomach lurching, the ground rushing up…

— and Nathaniel’s hands caught me. He had my waist in a grip that bruised.

“So you thought you could escape me again?” he growled, voice calm and furious at once. He brought us down. Around us, the remaining gargoyles turned to ash as the leader vanished. Soldiers scrambled to help the wounded. The sky slowly cleared.

“My lord — when their leader fell, the rest crumbled,” Vincent panted as he ran to us.

Nathaniel’s hand dug into my waist. Pain flared. “Ouch! That hurts, you asshole!” I demanded, stamping my foot.

He squeezed harder and hauled me closer. “Not as much as this,” he said, and motioned to his soldiers. They bowed and vanished in a blink.

My stomach dropped. My worst fear colored every thought. Who? No—please, no—

Two soldiers returned, dragging a beaten figure between them. Spike. His face was a road map of bruises and split skin. Mud and torn cloth clung to him. He looked hollowed out, confused, like he didn’t recognize anything.

Tears sprang hot and fast to my eyes. “No!” I choked. “Don’t— I did what you asked! You promised.”

Nathaniel’s voice was ice. “You promised to behave. We both lied.” He easily levitated Spike up with a flick of his fingers. Spike’s eyes were wide and pleading. He tried to speak. Nathaniel silenced him with a squeeze about the throat.

“This is what happens when you cross me,” Nathaniel said softly — and broke Spike’s neck with a tiny, effortless motion.

Spike’s body went limp and slid from Nathaniel’s hold. He crumpled to the ground like a rag.

“Noooo!!!” My scream tore the air apart. I lunged for him, but Nathaniel’s shadow flowed over me like ice. Hands grabbed me, dragging me back. The taste of metallic grief and rage filled my mouth. My vision tunneled red.

I hit the ground, sobbing, as people scattered and scrambled to rescue the wounded. Spike’s lifeless head lay inches from my shoe. I jerked back, hollow and furious. Everything inside me wanted to explode — to tear Nathaniel apart limb from limb — but the bond made his pain my pain; when he moved, I staggered; when he hurt, I bled.

Around me, the castle worked to bury the dead and tend the living. The gargoyle threat had been neutralized, but the cost — Spike — was a wound I couldn’t staunch.

I crumpled there, a broken knot of fear and fury, and the First Born’s voice slid into my mind like oil.

‘Now you feel it properly, darling. The consequences.’

Yes. I felt them. Sharp, terrible, and real.