Lady of Shadows (Lady of Darkness #2)

Chapter 57 Sorin

CHAPTER 57

SORIN

S orin stepped across the border, Cyrus and Eliza flanking him on either side. A grin spread across the face of the Night Child standing in the middle, just visible beneath the black hood of his cloak. There was a light dusting of snow on this side of the border, and it crunched beneath his boots.

“You finally answer your door. How courteous of you,” the vampyre drawled.

“I do not recall inviting you to dinner, so forgive my tardiness in meeting you,” Sorin bit back, sliding his hands into his pockets.

The Night Child snorted in amusement. “We will be feasting soon enough, Fae bastard.”

“You can certainly try,” Eliza crooned beside him, her sword drawn. The vampyre to the right bared his teeth, fangs out. Eliza merely bared her own canines back at him and purred, “I’ve got a set, too.”

“I’m going to assume you are the Prince of Fire?” the one in the middle cut in smoothly, addressing Sorin once more. Sorin stood silently, unable to identify himself as such in the mortal lands. The vampyre sighed in annoyance. “Where is Lord Lairwood’s bride, by the way?” Cyrus's hand clamped down on Sorin’s shoulder as a growl emanated from him. The vampyre smirked. “I guess that confirms that. Since I know who you are, allow me to introduce myself. I am Colton, and the Lord has sent me to…check on his weapon.”

“He refers to his fiancé as a weapon now?” Sorin sneered.

Colton’s smirk turned sinister. “Not that Lord.”

“Lord Tyndell then?”

“Very good, Prince. You’ve figured some things out.”

Sorin gave him his own cruel smile. “Their weapon figured it out.”

Colton chuckled. “Tell me, Prince of Fire, has she recovered from her injury? I wasn’t there, but Bowen here tells me she was cut up beautifully,” he said with a nod to the vampyre that had bared its fangs at Eliza.

“You were there?” Sorin asked, his eyes going to Bowen.

“I was,” he hissed. “I saw Saul slice up her side with his dagger before that bitch encased him in her shadows.”

Then he was gurgling at the arrow that was through his throat courtesy of Cyrus who already had another one nocked.

“That was unnecessary,” Colton snarled through gritted teeth.

Sorin’s dark smile grew. “We have different definitions of what is necessary.”

Colton stiffened. “This infernal Court has always been infested with the foulest of you.”

“Perhaps that is why Deimas modeled the Black Syndicate after us then,” Sorin retorted. “Say what you have come to say before the bloodsucker to your left meets the same fate for wasting my fucking time.”

“I already told you. The Lord has sent me to check on his weapon,” Colton said with a shrug of his shoulders. “I expected her to be with you based on the little I have heard about her.”

“You can tell your masters that she is no longer a weapon and is no longer their concern. They cannot have her. They will never have her again,” Sorin snarled.

Colton chuckled. “We are not here for her. I think you will find she will return on her own,” he mused, his dark eyes glittering. “You will find, Prince of Fire, that shadows always return to the darkness.”

“If you are not here for her, then what is your business?” Sorin snapped. He needed to get back to Scarlett. She knew something. This vampyre repeating Mikale’s words from a month ago made his unease about her staying on the other side of the border only grow. What was she making of all this? He could feel her pacing on the other side of the border.

Colton’s lips curled into a sinister grin, revealing his fangs. “To confirm the Prince of Fire’s identity.”

“That’s it? You brought all these men here for that? Something you have done all on your own?” Eliza demanded from his side.

“No, that’s not it,” Colton replied. “It was actually more of a bonus to be honest.”

“Why are men stationed at the Water Court border?” Cyrus asked now, his arrow still trained on the other Night Child. “And the other two Court borders?”

“Perhaps you should be asking why she did not accompany you to speak with me,” Colton countered.

“You are not privy to her reasons,” Sorin growled, smoke curling on his tongue. He had kept his hands in his pockets to hide the ring so they would believe him unable to access his magic, but he was becoming increasingly annoyed with the vampyre.

Colton’s eyes narrowed coldly. “And you are not privy to that of the Lords.”

Thank you for loving me like the stars love the night, Sorin. Thank you for guiding me home.

Her words startled him as they came down that bond, and he froze. He whirled to face the border as realization slammed into him. She had given him that soft smile one other time, aside from when she spoke of Juliette— when she had said goodbye to him to go to Mikale.

He couldn’t see across the border. He took a step. To go to her. To make her tell him what she had figured out, but Eliza’s warning cry had him turning back. He jerked to the side as a shirastone dagger flew past him, grazing a shallow cut along his shoulder. He didn’t have time for this. Something was wrong with his wife.

He growled, stalking forward towards the two remaining vampyres. A circle of flames encased the entire camp of mortals. Cries rang up from the men, and the Night Children hissed as they realized he was wearing Scarlett’s ring when Sorin raised his hand before them. As though he were wiping away a stain on a window, flames moved across that small encampment, leaving nothing but ashes in their wake. Tents, flesh, bones. All of it became ashes on the wind. No one was spared. No one was given a chance to beg for mercy.

With a thought, the Night Children had flames encircling their throats and were screeching in protest. He silenced the one who had never spoken by shoving flames down his throat. He collapsed to the ground, never to rise again.

Colton stared at him, hatred glittering in his eyes.

“Tell me what her shadow magic is,” Sorin growled at him, that ring of flames squeezing tighter.

But Colton’s eyes snagged on his forearm where a Bargain Mark was inked. A flame with three diamonds. His eyes lifted to Sorin’s and a slow, cunning smile spread across his face. “You shall learn what her magic is soon enough, Prince of Fire. The Sorceress will see to that,” he gasped out around the pressure on his throat.

Sorin only had that noose of flame squeezing tighter and tighter…until his head was disconnected from his body.

“Holy gods, Sorin,” Cyrus said in disbelief. “No prisoners to interrogate?”

Sorin said nothing as he turned and raced across the border, crossing at the exact spot she had last been standing.

“Scarlett!” He looked every direction for her, searching for the flash of silver in a sea of black and red and golden hair. But there was nothing. No answer to his call. He could not feel her. He could not find her.

He glanced at his hand where the twin flame Mark stood dark and stark against his tanned skin. The bond was still there. Unbroken.

“What the hell is going on?” Eliza demanded, panting as she came running over the border behind him.

Sorin’s blood had drained from his face, though. His eyes had settled not on a queen with silver hair, but on a ring, floating on a shadow. A diamond ring flanked by two rubies. Her marriage ring.

He pulled on that bridge between their souls. He roared her name down it, but he was met with nothing. It was as if there were a wall blocking their connection. He slammed flames against that obstacle. Over and over and over, but nothing cracked it.

Rayner appeared from ashes and stilled at the panic and rage and utter terror written all over his prince’s face. His family was frozen as Sorin…just stood there. He couldn’t form complete thoughts. He could hardly breathe. She had gone. She had left.

“Sorin?” Cyrus's voice was hesitant. “Where is she?”

But he couldn’t form words. They were foreign to him as he stared at that ring floating on a pillow of darkness.

“What is that?” Rayner asked in his quiet voice of cold. He was pointing below the shadow.

To a drawing. The drawing she had been doing in the dirt.

Sorin stumbled towards the ring and the symbol. With a trembling hand, he reached out and took the ring, the shadow immediately dissipating. He closed his fist around that band of metal and precious gems, his chest constricting as if he were gripping his own heart instead. He drew in a breath and jasmine and lavender and citrus and night filled his senses.

“What is it?” Eliza asked.

His Inner Court stood around him now in stunned silence.

Sorin dropped to his knees before that symbol. That Mark.

“What is it?” Eliza demanded again, sharper. Bordering on hysterical.

“It is a Blood Mark,” Sorin rasped, finally finding words.

“That’s not possible,” Cyrus blurted, stooping down to study the Mark.

But it was. It was possible. Because that was blood splattered on the carefully drawn Mark. Her blood. It was possible because she hadn’t just been learning about Blood Magic for research purposes these last months while sneaking down to that chamber. She hadn’t just been translating the Avonleyan and Maraan languages. She had been learning how to read the Blood Magic spells and Marks.

She had learned how to use them.

She had indeed become a weapon.

A weapon that could start and end a war.