Braeden rose slowly to his feet. His left arm ached something fierce, but he pushed the pain to the back of his mind until it was nothing more than an annoying twinge. Whatever drug the Shadow Sisters had shot him up with to sedate him had slowed his healing to a slow crawl and sent his inner demon into hibernation. He was building up a resistanceâit was the only reason he had been able to escape after weeks of nightmarish hallucinationsâbut not fast enough for his liking. He should've waited to escape until he was stronger, but he saw a chance and he took it. With his mind and body still sluggish, he hadn't been sure he'd be able to control the fire drake. He'd managed, barely, and somehow he'd found the wherewithal to find Sam. And he'd be damned if it all came to naught.
He was stronger now than he had been this morning, but the task ahead of him was a far harder one. When he'd stolen the smallest drake at daybreak, he hadn't needed to wrest it away from another rider. The control he'd forged was tenuous, and the fire breather fought him the entire way. So when the pull of unconsciousness had threatened to take him under, he'd killed the beast, rather than risk its disobedience. Maybe that had been a mistake. He'd thrown away a powerful weapon. Now he would need to make another gamble, but this time, more lives than his were at stake.
Sam slipped under his right arm, steadying him. "You're swaying on your feet," she murmured.
Braeden glanced down at the top of her head. Her hair had grown lighter from the sun in the weeks since he'd last seen her, glints of red and gold running through the dark sable. She was so much smaller than him, his Sam. So much more breakable. So much more human. Yet she was afraid for him. "I haven't found my sea legs yet," he lied. To pull this off, he needed her focused, not needlessly worried over him.
Sam tilted her head back to look up at him, skepticism writ plain on her face. "Don't go dying on me, you big lout. I've only just found you again."
Braeden pressed his lips to her brow, wishing they were a million miles from hereâback at sea, back in Thule. Anywhere but this burning ship in this gods forsaken land he'd once called home. Against her forehead, he said, "Neither of us is going to die today. I swear it."
"Then tell me what you need me to do."
He stepped out of her embrace. "I'm going to take care of the drakes. I need you to handle their riders."
Sam made a frustrated groan. "I can't even see the riders. How am I supposed to fight them?"
"I've seen the Shadow Sisters in action," he said. "They can't fight and shield at the same time. If you can get them on the defensive, they'll drop their shadow shields."
Behind them, the mainmast cracked and split, folding in on itself with a loud crash. The smoky haze covering the ship grew thicker. The men who hadn't made it below deck coughed and shouted, fighting and climbing over each other to get to the hatch. Desperation made men do desperate things. Many of them would die today. Braeden's fault, because he'd wanted so badly to find Sam he hadn't cared who got in the way. He could blame the drugs for his ill-thought-out escape plan, but even if he were clearheaded, he wasn't sure he'd have done differently.
Braeden closed his eyes and concentrated. He blocked out all the noise, the heat, the smokeâeven Sam, standing beside himâuntil the world was a blank void, except for the darkness at the edges. Distantly, he was aware that he hated it here, this bleak, lonely place in his mind absent of color or emotion. But the part of himself that knew hate and joy and love was nothing more than an outsider looking in, behind the invisible walls he'd erected himself.
He made himself step into the darkness. Even here, in this place, he was repulsed by it. The darkness had a voice: "Braeden," it whispered seductively. But he kept one foot firmly in the void, and its oily slickness recoiled and slid off him.
Wading further into the shadows, Braeden saw the darkness take shape into two black masses, each leashed by a thin, shimmering thread. Human threads, lit from within by a golden glow the shadows couldn't entirely diminish. They trembled violently, their tenuous hold unnatural. That the threads hadn't yet snapped spoke of borrowed magic.
In his current, unenhanced state, Braeden wasn't strong enough to seize control of both threads, so he chose the right one at random, giving it an experimental tug. A demonic screech pierced through the silence of the void, nearly startling Braeden out of it. A deep, calming breath, and then he gave the thread another mental yank. He could feel the thread unraveling--
"Braeden, duck!" Sam screamed.
He had the dim sensation of falling, and then the wind was knocked out of him. He blinked, staring up into Sam's green eyes, wide and frightened. She lay sprawled on top of him, her nose and cheeks streaked with sweat and soot. Still beautiful. Braeden brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
Sam shoved his hand aside and rolled off him, swearing up a storm. She jabbed a finger at the scarlet drake, which was now gliding in lazy circles around the ship, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake. "You almost got yourself roasted alive, you idiot!"
Before she could yell at him further, the blue-and-silver drake swooped down from its hiding spot behind the clouds, landing on the quarterdeck, just a few yards in front of them. The scarlet drake touched down on the deck behind them, the still-burning fire no deterrent. Orange flames curled around its forelegs and caressed its scales like a lover. Its lips pulled back in a terrible grin, a strange rumbling sound emanating from its chest. The beast was purring.
Braeden turned back to face the quarterdeck. Large, reptilian eyes met his, precisely the same shade of crimson. He knew this demon, had been inside its head, if only for the briefest of moments. He could feel the wild rage rolling off it in waves, harnessed only by that thin golden thread. What would happen if it snapped? Would it kill indiscriminately, or would it turn on the one who used to hold its leash? Braeden knew what he would doâwhat he had done. But he wasn't sure if his desire for revenge came from his demon side or his human one.
Sam's shoulder grazed his as she came to stand at an angle beside him. Her sword was drawn, her expression bleak. "We're doomed," she said.
"Not yet," Braeden insisted, cursing his own weakness. Gods above, this had to work. He closed his eyes again, focusing. He wasn't going to try to sever the golden thread, not when he didn't know the repercussions. Delicatelyâso delicately neither beast nor rider would noticeâhe wove his own essence into a thick ropeâblack, with flecks of goldâand bound the demon to him. The connection clicked into place with a jarring suddenness he felt deep in his bones. His eyes popped open, staring into that same crimson gaze. He heard its heart beat, tasted the fire in its lungs and in its belly. He was awash with blood and power, euphoric with it. Braeden smiled. "You're mine now," he crooned.
The drake's nostrils flared in response. It knew its new master.
It wasn't so hard to control a demon. It was far harder to control himself. How easily Braeden could lose himself to the euphoria running through his veins and let it drown him. There would be no pain, no fear, no heartbreak. Only blood and glory. It would taste so sweet.
Dark fantasies threatened to overwhelm him. Braeden gritted his teeth and clung to the part of him that was still human. Sam's back pressed into his bad shoulder. It hurt, but he welcomed the pain. A world without pain was a world without Sam. Nothing was worth that. He held onto that thought for all he was worth and hoped it would be enough.
If he gave in, more than his humanity would be lost.
***
Sam stole a glance at Braeden. She didn't like what she saw. The wide grin he wore didn't reach his eyes, more snarl than smile. His slit pupils were dilated, swallowing most of the crimson iris so they appeared nearly black. Despite the heat, she shivered. "Braeden?" she said tentatively.
His lashes dipped to the tops of his cheeks. "Sam," he said in an eerily cold voice.
She stiffened beside him. His voice lacked the musicality of the High Commander's, thank the Gods, but he didn't sound like the Braeden she knew either.
His hand wrapped around her wrist, his touch like ice. "I'm still me," he said. That strange smile stretched further. "More or less." He didn't look at her, his gaze distant. "I have her."
"Her?" she repeated. Surely he didn't mean one of the fire drakes. Or did he refer to their riders? Sam still couldn't see them and wondered how Braeden could know for sure they were really there.
He gripped her wrist tighterâtoo tight, pinching the skin. "The blue fire drake. She's mine to command now."
Sam didn't like the possessive way he said mine. She tugged her wrist free of his grip. "Braeden!" she snapped. Finally, he looked at her, his eyes black circles rimmed with crimson. His inner demon showing. Sam reclaimed his hand and squeezed, hard enough to bruise an ordinary human. "Control it, Braeden. Don't let it control you."
He blinked slowly, as though wading through muck. "I'm trying." Droplets of sweat formed on his upper lip. "I have the blue drake under control. The other is beyond my current abilities." He sounded frustrated. "I can't fight, Sam. I'm having a hard enough time fighting myself."
She pulled her hand free from his and joined it with the other around the hilt of her borrowed sword. "But I can." She took a few practice swings, muscle memory carrying her through the basic drills she'd only recently neglected. "Just...keep that drake from burning my hair off, will you? It only just grew long again."
Braeden made an amused huff, and all was right with the world again. A familiar surge of energy swept through her, and she made a few more slashes at the air, just because. She grinned. Still got it.
"Cowards!" Sam shouted, feeling only a little foolish for taunting an invisible enemy. "Why don't you show yourselves, Sisters?"
Disembodied laughter rang out over the crackle of heat and the creaks and groans of the ship.
Hmmm. So confident. Perhaps they didn't yet realize Braeden had stolen one of their drakes out from under them.
"Braeden," Sam murmured, "can shadow shields hold against demon fire?"
"I don't know," he replied stiffly. Still struggling against himself.
"Why don't we find out?"
"Duck," was the only warning she got before the blue drake's massive jaws hinged open and spewed out scorching flame.
The blaze lit up the blurry outline of a figure hunched over a saddle strapped to the crest of the scarlet drake's neck. Sam didn't hesitate. She threw her sword like a javelin into the heart of the flame. The shadow shield fell, revealing a woman in white, eyes wide with shock behind her veil. For a moment, she appeared unscathed, her pale skin pearlescent in the firelight, and she smiled triumphantly. Then she clutched at her chest, staring at the sword that impaled her. Blood spurted onto her gloved hands and burbled from her mouth as she tried in vein to pull it out. Her hands fell limply to her sides, and she tumbled out of the saddle, hitting the deck with a sickening thud.
Sam felt the prick of a blade against her throat. "Clever," a low woman's voice cooed in her ear. "Distraction is an art, don't you think? You thought to distract my sister, and yet her death distracted you. A poetic ending for you both." She increased the pressure on the knife, digging the tip into Sam's flesh. Sam ignored the sharp sting, forcing herself to remain still. Much deeper, and the wound would be fatal.
Still holding the knife, the woman pressed her lips to Sam's collarbone, almost reverently. "A shame, to kill Nasrin's niece. I had hoped to avoid it."
Sam's blood turned to ice. "Nasrin? Is she one of you?"
The woman smiled against her skin. "Only the Master knows sun from shadow."
Behind them, the scarlet drake roared. The knife sunk infinitesimally deeper. Sam shut her eyes and tried not to swallow.
"Let her go," Braeden ground out, lurching toward them on unsteady feet. His entire body was shaking, as though he was about to burst out of his own skin. The expression he wore was feral. The idiot man was trying to control both demons when he could hardly hold on to one.
The Shadow Sister sighed. "The Master did warn you would be difficult. I must say I'm growing tired of his little tests."
Braeden bared his teeth and hissed, raising his hands and contracting his fingers like claws.
He was losing it.
"Braeden, stay calm," Sam ordered. She was proud her voice didn't tremble. "You kill me, sister, and he'll kill you."
A slight pause. "Then I shall die a martyr."
Inwardly Sam deflated. There was no arguing with crazy. She might very well die today. Was she a coward for fearing death? She wasn't ready to dieânot a pointless death, that meant nothing. If she died, what would happen to Braeden? Would he, in his grief, become everything he despised? No. She had to believe he was stronger than that.
"Braeden," she called softly.
His gaze flickered to hers and away. "Do it," he said in that cold voice that wasn't his.
The Shadow Sister made a soft grunt, and suddenly the pressure was gone from Sam's neck. The knife clattered to the deck. Sam stumbled as the sister's full weight fell against her. Dead weight.
Sam was too stunned to do anything but stand there, gaping at the dagger sticking out of the back of the sister's neck. "How...?"
"Thank you," Braeden rasped out. He wasn't talking to Sam.
Kameko bent over the shadow sister's body and plucked the dagger from her neck. Wiping it clean on the dead sister's robes, she said without glancing at either one of them, "You owe me an explanation. But it can wait till we're off this cursed ship."
A/N: I admit, I was lazy over my vacation in Florida. Here is a chapter as penance. Good news - my story is finally back where my outline says I'm supposed to be (WHOOPS!), so I'm getting it back on track!
Happy Halloween, y'all!