CHAPTER THIRTY-ONESweet SorrowThe Reapers walkedme out through the front doors of the Necropolis, and to the edge of Westminster Bridge. There were crowds of Reapers at either end of it, their dark cloaks billowing in the wind. Some rode on bone stallions.The cold rain felt like needles against my battered body. Below us, the bloody Thames swirled and screeched, hammering its barriers. The storm had made it higher. Further down the river, a large shape was growing closer—Salem’s island of flesh. We could hear its weeping even from here.At the other end of the bridge, the crowd of Reapers shuffled, and two faces emerged from the sea of skulls: Alkin and Sven. A stone dropped inside of me. The Reapers must have taken them both at the docks when Alkin had arrived. Mr. Cillian was going to deliver all three of us to Salem, forcing me to watch as the people I loved were tortured.Mr. Cillian’s eyes lit up at the sight of Sven. He walked past me to the center of the bridge, th
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWOCrimson RainSalem’s mention ofLoretta made it clear to me that she was alive and uninfected, just as I needed her. As I arrived at her home, I found a group of Uncivil trying to hammer down the front door. I slashed through them before they even saw me.Rather than pound on the door as the Uncivil had done, I simply rang the doorbell. Loretta’s face poked through the drapes, and the door opened.“You’re alive!” she exclaimed, yanking me inside. After slamming the door shut again, she turned to a servant and said, “Fetch her a dress, won’t you? Something black.”Mr. Pervis stood inside a blood circle, his arms outstretched, fingers bloody. His expression remained neutral as he concentrated and chanted beneath his breath. He was too focused on the ritual to notice my nakedness.“He’s warding the house,” said Loretta. “Making it so no one can force entry. He’s been at it for hours. First the Reapers were coming, then the Uncivil.”Loretta’s posture had str
PART VAscensionFebruary—April, 1878CHAPTER THIRTY-THREEPenance“I recognize, in retrospect, why some would take offense to the Immortalist Papers. The fact of the matter is, they reflected the commonly-held beliefs of the age in which they were written. I do not feel it is fair to blame me for spreading ideas that were already commonly-held. You must understand that we are in a period of rapid change, and one can hardly be expected to know what lies around every corner. For God’s sake, I was only doing what I was told! You want me to put my family at risk? My wife, my children? If I’d refused to write those papers, you know what would have happened to them—and to me, for that mat
PART IRebirthAugust—September, 1876CHAPTER ONEShadows in the SkyI was stillmortal, the night it all began. My dreams were still my own. I still believed what my parents told me.My sister Gladys and I were on our way to a ball, riding in a coach over a bumpy road. Outside, the grassy English countryside passed us by, a dark sky warning us of a coming storm. Pearly white fog licked the windows, its curious tendrils threatening to creep inside.Gladys sat across from me, her face slack with boredom. “They’re going to think you’re in mourning,” she said. “We’re going to spend the whole night telling everyone ‘No, our parents are most certainly alive.’”Her comment was due to the fact that I was wearing a black dress. Her own glistened gold and flattered her figure, an hourglass next to my pear. She would undoubtedly acquire many suitors tonight. Our parents had already taken their own coach to the ball a half-hour prior, and when Gladys and I arrived, Father would inevi
CHAPTER TWOA Splendid NightmareWhen I was eleven, my cousin Amelia visited my family and me at Blackwood Manor. She was only a few years older than I was, so my parents expected me to entertain her.Blackwood Manor was large, filled with paneled walls, embroidered pillows, and all the comforts money could buy. Growing up, I took every inch of it for granted.My favorite room was our expansive library, which contained hundreds of wonderful books. Naturally, when Amelia asked me what there was to do at the manor, a tour of the library was the first thing I suggested.“Are there any math books?” Amelia asked, eyes lighting up in excitement. “I find math ever so much fun!”“I don’t see why there wouldn’t be,” I said, but I’d never felt the need to check. I preferred fairy tales—stories of chivalrous knights, dragons, and princesses whose beauty I hoped to one day possess. I did not share my cousin’s fascination with numbers, but all the same I helped her find the appropriate sectio
CHAPTER THREEThe Morning That Was Not MorningEvery clock inBlackwood Manor claimed that it was ten in the morning. I had servants check each one, and the response was always the same: the clocks were working as they were supposed to. It was ten in the morning, and it was as dark as could be.I told my maid, Candice, to awaken my parents, who were normally quite punctual. When Candice returned, she said, “I am sorry, my lady, but they insist on staying in bed.”I sighed, and headed for my parents’ room to wake them up myself.“Be careful, my lady,” Candice called after me. “Lady Elizabeth is in a pillow-throwing mood, I fear!”There was indeed a pillow on the floor when I entered. After pulling open the drapes, I went to Mother’s side of the bed. “Wake up, Mama.”After a moment, her eyes creaked open. “What? What is it?”“Mama, the sky is black.” I let the fear show in my eyes. I could not show it to the servants, but I could show it to my mother. “It’s ten in the mornin
CHAPTER FOURThe Painted HouseThe stallion tuggedthe coach onward into the night. Inside it I panted, my tired throat stinging with each breath I took. Through the window I watched my old home disappear behind a dark hill.I didn’t know where this coach was taking me, but exhausted as I was, jumping out and running off would do me no good at all. So I stayed, my breath slowing, nausea and numbness setting in like the venom of a snake. I kneaded the skirt of my dress, but could not feel it with my fingers. I couldn’t frown, nor could I smile. My breaths were somehow louder than the horse’s hoof-beats.My family was gone. I would never see them again, live with them again, or be able to hate them again.My hair was sticky and red from blood, and my throat felt like it was being squeezed. Why wasn’t I crying? I felt so empty. I reminded myself that my family would have wanted me to live on, but I felt guilty for having survived—for having escaped my fate when they had not. Had
CHAPTER FIVESuccubus Milk“Excellent,” replied Salem, grinning. “I will send for Lady Rosette Crawford. She is of the Elysian bloodline, a very fine lineage.”I nodded, nervous as could be. I’d made my decision, but that didn’t mean I lacked anxiety.Lady Rosette arrived shortly after, and turned out to be the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She was tall and slender, with bat-like wings that looked smooth to the touch. Her dark hair was wrapped up into an exquisite bun, crowned by a pair of goat-like horns. She wore a long dress, a tight corset, elbow-length gloves, and an extravagant choker, which draped semicircles of black chains beneath its collar. Resting on the bridge of her nose was a pair of spectacles, masking her brown eyes. An excessively long cigarette holder stabbed out from between her fingers. Purple smoke wafted out from the cigarette’s tip, stinking of perfume.I was not sure whether to fear her or idolize her.“You’re the girl, then?” Her voice was sultry a
PART VAscensionFebruary—April, 1878CHAPTER THIRTY-THREEPenance“I recognize, in retrospect, why some would take offense to the Immortalist Papers. The fact of the matter is, they reflected the commonly-held beliefs of the age in which they were written. I do not feel it is fair to blame me for spreading ideas that were already commonly-held. You must understand that we are in a period of rapid change, and one can hardly be expected to know what lies around every corner. For God’s sake, I was only doing what I was told! You want me to put my family at risk? My wife, my children? If I’d refused to write those papers, you know what would have happened to them—and to me, for that mat
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWOCrimson RainSalem’s mention ofLoretta made it clear to me that she was alive and uninfected, just as I needed her. As I arrived at her home, I found a group of Uncivil trying to hammer down the front door. I slashed through them before they even saw me.Rather than pound on the door as the Uncivil had done, I simply rang the doorbell. Loretta’s face poked through the drapes, and the door opened.“You’re alive!” she exclaimed, yanking me inside. After slamming the door shut again, she turned to a servant and said, “Fetch her a dress, won’t you? Something black.”Mr. Pervis stood inside a blood circle, his arms outstretched, fingers bloody. His expression remained neutral as he concentrated and chanted beneath his breath. He was too focused on the ritual to notice my nakedness.“He’s warding the house,” said Loretta. “Making it so no one can force entry. He’s been at it for hours. First the Reapers were coming, then the Uncivil.”Loretta’s posture had str
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONESweet SorrowThe Reapers walkedme out through the front doors of the Necropolis, and to the edge of Westminster Bridge. There were crowds of Reapers at either end of it, their dark cloaks billowing in the wind. Some rode on bone stallions.The cold rain felt like needles against my battered body. Below us, the bloody Thames swirled and screeched, hammering its barriers. The storm had made it higher. Further down the river, a large shape was growing closer—Salem’s island of flesh. We could hear its weeping even from here.At the other end of the bridge, the crowd of Reapers shuffled, and two faces emerged from the sea of skulls: Alkin and Sven. A stone dropped inside of me. The Reapers must have taken them both at the docks when Alkin had arrived. Mr. Cillian was going to deliver all three of us to Salem, forcing me to watch as the people I loved were tortured.Mr. Cillian’s eyes lit up at the sight of Sven. He walked past me to the center of the bridge, th
CHAPTER THIRTYIn the House of Mr. Cillian“This will beeverso much fun,” Mr. Cillian trilled.He had taken me to a room with walls of fine wood paneling. This was no ordinary bone cell; it appeared to be a meeting room.Mr. Cillian sat across from me in a fancy chair, sipping blood from a teacup. Not a drop stained his lips, but he dabbed them with his handkerchief anyway. “Salem wants to torture you himself, of course, but I’ll still get some satisfaction from delivering you to your doom.”He hadn’t chained me to my chair; he acted as though this was an informal meeting between close friends.I tried not to show my anger; I didn’t wish to indulge him. I had to approach this from a place of strength and certainty, no matter the crippling pain still coursing through my body.“He’s coming to infect us all, Warren,” I said. “Everyone. Even you.”“He told me he’d spare me if I got you ready for him,” Mr. Cillian replied. “He’ll even let me kill the Dark Watcher. And oh, how
PART IVDecscentFebruary, 1878CHAPTER TWENTY-NINEMorphosisAs soon asI saw Salem, I knew that I had failed.His expression was not one of wild rage, but rather smoldering hatred. He lifted the side of his upper lip, showing a hint of his teeth. His wings were rigid, like the hackles on a dog’s back.How could he be here? I’d worn my pentacle. Unless ...“Alkin ... ” I whispered. “Are you wearing a pentacle?”Alkin’s eyes glistened with fear. Slowly, he shook his head.Salem hadn’t been contacting me. He’d been trying to find Alkin.“I ... see how things are now.” Salem’s voice was very calm, stepping closer. “I see what you are. A minx. Yes, that’s it. A minx. Like every other succubus. Yet only a succubus would do ... ”I got up off of Alkin. “Salem,” I said, trying to keep my voice as calm as his. “I don’t know what you thought you heard, but let’s discuss this.”“And I knew it ... ” Salem whispered. “I
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTRuptureI awoke tothe sound of someone rapping on the bedroom door. The first thing I felt was the ring Salem had given me last night, cold and heavy around my finger.The second was Salem sitting up beside me, his wings pulling away the covers. He stared at the door, seething at this interruption of his long-delayed rest.“Do you want to be bound to the wall with the others?” he shouted. “Do you want to become a bloody music box?”“You have a visitor, Lord Sotirios.” The girl’s voice was hollow with fear.“Does it sound like I care? Tell them to come back tomorrow.”“It is the queen, Lord Sotirios.”Queen Isabelle had come here? No wonder the girl was terrified. If the queen demanded to see Salem, a maid who refused her would be killed. But so too would a maid who annoyed Salem.“It’s not her fault,” I whispered, clutching Salem’s hand. “Go see the queen.”Salem let out an angry sigh, and put on a pair of trousers. He shot the maid a nasty glare on
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVENDistorted ArmiesSalem floated abovethe ocean, long hair billowing behind him. He was shirtless, and his huge muscles were on full display. He didn’t seem to see me—I was too far away, and there were too many Mekrans between us—but it was impossible not to see him, levitating there like a god. He didn’t even need to flap his wings.“Open fire!” roared Ezekiel’s voice from somewhere up ahead, and the beach erupted into chaos. The troops that had been coming for us shot at Salem instead. The airships blasted at him too, striking him from every direction with great streams of shrapnel.“Now’s our chance,” I said. It was dangerous to run out into the open, but we had to get out of the sunlight while the Mekrans were distracted. I flew from the ditch, and my companions climbed out after me. We didn’t head all the way back to the beach; merely far enough away to escape the sunlight. Once we had passed the threshold, Sven dropped to the ground and rolled, puttin
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIXThe Sun FieldsThe Mekrans blindfolded us, and forced us to march. Through the city we went, then up a ramp, into a place where the ever-present hammering sounds were muffled. When we finally stopped, they bound our wrists to walls and removed our blindfolds.Sven, Loretta and I were in separate cells. A guard cut a lock of my hair and stuffed it in his pocket. I soon felt motion beneath us, confirming my suspicions that we were imprisoned on an airship.The guards moved to the door, leaving us. Loretta couldn’t stop staring at Sven’s face.“It never stops hurting, does it?” she whispered.Sven barely looked at her. “No.”“Is there anything I can do? To make the pain easier to bear?”Sven didn’t answer.I told myself that we would not die in vain. Perhaps the Mekrans were right, and the sun would indeed kill Salem. Perhaps my death would be a necessary sacrifice.Loretta let out an abrupt, phlegm-drenched cough. “Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t think I could stil
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVEThe Iron CityI managed tosleep for most of the journey. The fear was exhausting, but Alkin’s warm embrace was comforting.When I awoke, I was alone in the bed, but I heard voices just beyond the door. I wrapped the blankets around me like a cloak and got closer to the door to listen.“Sven, I know you’re concerned, but we need to work together.” Alkin sounded very close. Was he pushed up against the door?“So that we can dietogether?” Sven’s voice hissed back. “This is a suicide mission and you know it, but you’re going along with it anyway.”“We have no other options. I had to get her out of there, Sven.”“You just can’t say no to her, even when it’s against her own best interests. I really don’t understand what she sees in you. Why are youworthy of her love? You, out of anyone else in this whole damn world?”“Is that what this is about?”I considered opening the door, but I wanted to hear this out; the moment I showed myself, their conv