Troubled (The Binding Chronicles #4)

9. A Living Corpse

A Living Corpse

A lump appeared in Marius’s throat, and he roughly swallowed it away.

He’d seen a plethora of terrible things throughout his lifetime—arguably more than any one person should ever have to deal with—but this…

This was worse than all those combined.

Oh, gods.

His bodyguard had been right all along. He’d made a grave miscalculation in coming here. Every ounce of mortal blood in his body screamed as primal onyx eyes glistening with madness met his through the trees. His heart thundered, making a concerted effort to escape his chest.

The creature—for to call it a woman would be a disservice to every beautiful female Marius had ever encountered over the course of his life—was a living corpse.

Emaciated, grey, rotting flesh stuck to bones. Strands of once beautiful hair hung around the creature’s face, framing sunken cheeks and a long, thin nose. Dry, cracked lips that were more grey than pale rose were coated in brilliant crimson. The shock of color was incongruous with the creature’s ashen flesh. Rags that might once have been a beautiful gown clung to the creature’s frame.

Brittle hands gripped a frail woman whose brown hair trailed in the snow behind her. The human’s head hung limply, and blood streamed down her neck.

Bile rose in Marius’s throat, and he took a step back before he even realized what he was doing. He’d been around thousands of vampires in his time, and he was used to their preternatural beauty and grace.

But this.

This wasn’t that.

Not at all.

Death incarnate took the form of the First, and it was the stuff of his worst nightmares. Never, in his wildest dreams, could he have ever imagined that this kind of horrible creature actually existed.

It did, and even worse than that, it was staring.

Directly.

At.

Them.

Its black eyes were endless pits of darkness.

Marius’s fingers curled tighter around his daggers, even though a niggling voice inside of him warned his weapons were incapable of harming this creature.

There was an otherworldliness about the First that was unlike anything he’d ever seen.

This had been a mistake. He could see that now. His magic writhed in his veins, urging him to run.

It was too late, though.

The First cocked its head, a predator assessing its prey. A long moment passed before the vampire unfurled its fingers and dropped the limp woman.

The human let out a muffled cry as she fell.

The First’s lips opened wide, scarlet-tipped fangs glistened in the moonlit, and the creature howled .

The sound was unlike anything Marius had ever heard.

It was long and drawn out, a predatory, ancient cry that seemed to go on and on. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and a shiver ran down his spine.

Vivienne glanced over her shoulder, her black eyes hard, and shot him a look that said, If we make it out of this, Prince, I’m going to kill you.

Honestly, he understood exactly where she was coming from.

In all his visions, he’d never actually Seen the First. Not really. Maybe if he had, he would’ve made different choices.

The time for regrets had passed, however.

For all its corpse-like features, the First moved like a phantom. It stood, digging its bare feet into the bloody snow, and rolled its shoulders. The motion was so mortal that for a moment, Marius forgot they were dealing with a creature of death.

And then shadows streamed off the First, dark ribbons of pure night.

A single heartbeat was all it took for the grey vampire to charge towards them. It snarled, the savage sound designed to make lesser beings quake in the face of death.

Clutching his daggers, Marius prayed that he would remember the High Lady of Life’s instructions. He widened his stance, leaned slightly forward, distributed his weight evenly, and got ready to attack.

Even though the First was far more dangerous than he’d originally assumed, he would not back down from this fight. If anything, seeing this horrible creature face-to-face merely affirmed that it needed to be stopped now.

Wings flapped as Vivienne launched into the air.

She met the First head-on, her blade outstretched.

Steel collided with ancient flesh, ripping through the creature’s flank.

A regular being would have stumbled from that blow. A regular being might have died from the way Vivienne’s weapon sliced a chunk out of their middle. A regular being would have also bled red.

None of those things happened.

The First seemed incensed as it screeched, clawing desperately at its side. Thick, inky blood oozed from the wound. And the smell...

If the feral vampire stank of death, its blood smelled of mildew and rotten eggs.

Bile coated the back of Marius’s throat, and his eyes burned.

There was no time to react.

Vivienne pulled her blade from the First, and black blood sprayed as she spun on her heels. Her initial blow might have caught the First off-guard, but the creature was ready for her now. The ribbons of death streamed out of the creature until hundreds filled the clearing. They blotted out the moon and stars, surrounding them in a blanket of thick darkness.

The First charged towards them; its fingers outstretched in an awful imitation of claws.

Once again, Vivienne caught Marius’s eye and yelled, “Run, Prince!”

Did she want him to take the coward’s way out and flee?

Not a chance in hell. He’d brought them into this mess. He refused to leave her here to deal with the vampire alone.

Instead, Marius raced towards the First.

He might not have possessed the speed or strength of a vampire, but he’d been training for years. His blades were made of silver, one of the few materials capable of injuring vampires .

The First seemed almost entirely focused on Vivienne as it formed a wall of pure shadows. It snarled, lobbing darkness towards her.

Vivienne dropped to the ground, her wings flattening as the shadows sailed where her head had been moments ago.

The ancient vampire screeched in frustration, gathering more shadows in its palms.

Taking advantage of the First’s distraction, Marius sliced his blades down its back, drawing more blood.

The First shrieked, spinning towards him. It scowled, its dark eyes promising a painful death.

Marius cursed as the feral vampire threw darkness at him. He jumped out of the way, but the shadows grazed his cheek. Ice burned across his face, and he bit back a cry.

Then, Vivienne was there, fighting the First alongside him.

Time slipped on.

None of Marius’s training had ever prepared him for something like this.

The feral vampire moved unnaturally. It was more dead than alive, and yet, it was one with the wind. No creature, even one blessed by the gods, should have moved like that.

Marius’s heart pounded, singing the same song as his magic.

Stupid, stupid, stupid .

How could he have ever thought he could fight the First on his own?

If he and Vivienne survived this—something that was becoming less likely with every passing moment—he would have to offer a series of apologies.

First, to his bodyguard.

Then, to his sister and brother-in-law.

Marius shuddered to think about how angry the royals would be when they found out he’d been so close to death again. It was worse than before because this time, he’d placed himself in this position.

How horribly ironic would it be for him to survive the Wasting Illness, the fire that had killed his family, being abducted and taken to the Northern Kingdom, and the evil queen’s wrath only to die in a remote forest?

He couldn’t let that happen.

Reaching deep within himself, he pulled on threads of strength he didn’t know he possessed.

The First was charging towards Vivienne, its hand lifted as though to slash through her wings.

“No!” He couldn’t let those beautiful, dark appendages be torn to shreds and mangled beyond recognition.

He spun around, shouting at the top of his lungs as he raced towards the feral vampire. His ploy to get its attention worked. That was equally frightening and relieving.

The feral vampire roared like a lion about to devour its prey.

Marius didn’t think about what he was doing. He just acted.

His opponent slashed its arm through the air, aiming for Vivienne’s wings. He jumped in front of her, brandishing his dagger. He screamed as fire ran across his chest, and at the same moment, he thrust his silver dagger into the First’s heart. It was a perfect shot, sinking past sinew and bone to penetrate that vital organ.

That should’ve been it.

The silver should’ve killed the vampire on the spot.

But it didn’t.

Blood poured around the blade, a fountain of ink. Enough that anyone else would’ve died.

The First didn’t die, though. It didn’t even scream.

Instead, ancient lips stretched across its face in a macabre smile. The creature tilted its head, and a rough sound that might once have been considered a laugh slipped from its mouth.

Marius shivered, feeling as though he was trapped in a nightmare.

Fire streaked across his chest, but his gaze was locked on the dagger sticking out of the creature.

What kind of vampire could take a blow like that and survive?

Wings flapped. Vivienne had moved, and now she stood behind the First. Her sword was raised, and she slashed it through the air with a cry.

The First yanked out the dagger and threw it to the ground, spinning on its heels. Vivienne’s blade sliced through the creature’s shoulder, and a shrill shriek filled the air.

Marius yelled and went to raise his remaining dagger when black spots swarmed his vision. He raised his free hand to his chest, frowning when his fingers came away wet.

He looked down. Crimson coated his fingers. It streamed from his chest, where four long scratches tore the fabric of his shirt and ripped through his skin.

“Oh.” He lifted his gaze, meeting Vivienne’s wide eyes as his legs buckled.

Her scream of outrage was the last thing he heard before he fell into darkness.

“You stupid, insufferable man. Don’t you dare go and die on me now. How will I explain this to the king and queen?”

A cool hand pressed against Marius’s temple, and he rolled his head towards the sensation.

“Mhmm,” he murmured groggily. “That feels nice. ”

The moment he spoke, the hand vanished as though it had never been there.

“You’re awake.” The warmth that had been present in her voice moments ago vanished.

He blinked, the action requiring far more effort than it should have. “It appears that way, yes.”

Everything hurt. His head. His chest. His arms and legs.

“What happened?” he asked, the words tasting like chalk in his dry mouth.

A scowling face framed in fiery red hair looked down on him.

“You almost died,” Vivienne said accusingly.

That wasn’t entirely surprising, judging by the ache in his chest and the feeling of dread that had settled over him. Death had been lingering nearby, waiting.

Marius tried to lift his head, but it hurt too much. Instead, he let it drop and took stock of his surroundings. He was on the ground, pine trees loomed over him, and the First was nowhere to be seen. Red coated the snow around them, mixing with the feral vampire’s black blood.

So much blood.

By all accounts, he should be dead right now.

“How am I alive?” Marius dragged his gaze up to his bodyguard.

She crossed her arms and frowned. Her sword had been returned to its sheath, the hilt outlined in silver moonlight. Her wings were retracted, and she was kneeling at his side, pursing her lips.

For the longest moment, Marius wasn’t sure she would answer.

“Viv?”

Her frown deepened, and she tapped her wrist. “I gave you some blood,” she replied reluctantly. “Just a small amount.”

His eyes widened. “You?— ”

“Don’t get any ideas,” she interrupted, scowling. “It meant nothing, and I only did it because I prefer to remain alive.”

Marius blinked slowly. She could pretend it didn’t mean anything, but he’d lived among vampires long enough to know that creatures of the night didn’t share their blood. At least, not unless there were extenuating circumstances.

It was one thing for vampires to drink from their Sources. After all, that was how they remained alive. It was another matter entirely for them to willingly give their healing blood to someone else.

Wars had been fought over far less.

But based on the look in Vivienne’s eyes, this wasn’t the moment to press the issue. Instead, he dipped his head.

“Thank you for saving my life.” Pushing to his elbows, he ignored the pain in his head. “The First?—”

“Is gone.” Vivienne scowled. “I wounded it, and it left.”

For now.

Her unspoken words echoed around him, and he shuddered.

“Thank you.” The words were painfully inadequate, but still, he needed to say them. Twice now, the vampire had saved his life.

“I was just doing my job.”

She kept saying that, but none of his other guards had ever given him their blood.

Job or not, he had to thank her properly. Ignoring the pain the movements caused, he sat up. Reaching out, he took her hand, the touch sending a jolt through him.

Barriers existed between them, and there were a plethora of reasons why touching her was a bad idea, but it was hard to remember them when this felt so… right.

For all her vampiric strength and grace, Vivienne’s hand was so much smaller than his. Her long fingers were smooth, lacking the callouses and scars that most soldiers who trained with weapons, including Marius, bore on their hands. Her skin was cold—not like the snow beneath them, but not nearly as warm as his—yet it wasn’t unpleasant.

Something swirled deep within him, originating from the point of contact. It was far more potent than when they had brushed fingers exchanging the reins the other day, and it nearly took his breath away.

Even though he’d had some romantic entanglements before, none of them had ever made him feel like this. It was like his entire body might burst into flames if they kept touching. He didn’t mind, though. Not when it felt this good.

He was starting to think that he would gladly burn for her. For them. If there could ever be a “them.”

Vivienne hitched a breath, and her brows rose. Her gaze crawled to where their hands were joined. She inhaled, her fingers twitching in his. “I?—”

He gripped her fingers tighter, refusing to let her pull away.

“You saved my life.” His voice was deeper than usual, and he waited until she was looking at him again, needing her to hear him. “I appreciate it more than you know.”

He wasn’t ready to die. Not even close. He had so much left to do, so much life left to live.

The moment seemed to stretch on forever before Vivienne exhaled. “Okay.”

Their hands were still joined, and he swept his thumb across the back of her smooth flesh. She shivered, her mouth opening slightly as her gaze dipped to their fingers.

A foot separated them. It was both far too much space and not nearly enough.

The longer Marius held Vivienne’s hand, the longer he looked at her, the more the rest of their surroundings faded away. He couldn’t pull his gaze from her, even if he tried.

She was gods-damned beautiful, this vampire duty-bound to guard him.

Her burning locks gleamed in the moon’s silver glow. Her lips were as red as cherries, her skin as pale as snow.

Strength lay beneath her beauty. It was more than just the otherworldliness that all vampires had. She was equally powerful and captivating. Each time he studied her, he found something new to appreciate.

Her gaze rose to meet his.

There was a darkness in the black depths of her eyes that threatened to swallow him whole. It ensnared him, and he couldn’t look away.

He didn’t want to.

Marius shifted closer, drawn to his bodyguard by some inexplicable force. His heart was a thundering drum, and the pain in his chest was long forgotten.

The space between them was rapidly diminishing.

She breathed his name, her lips parting to reveal her sharp, deadly fangs. If she’d been any other vampire, he would have been afraid of what those sharp teeth could do, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be frightened by her.

No.

The emotions coursing through him were about as far from fear as possible.

He’d seen her rip out throats with her fangs, but it didn’t frighten him. If anything, knowing that she was so powerful made him all the more attracted to her.

He curled his fingers tighter around hers, unable and unwilling to let her go.

She licked her lips, her eyes still locked on his, and whispered, “Prince, we shouldn’t?—”

A low moan came from behind them.

The sound was barely more than a whisper, but it might as well have been a clap of thunder.

Vivienne’s eyes widened, and she yanked her hand from his as though he’d scalded her.

“Oh gods, the woman.” She stood and dashed across the snow in a vampiric blur. A moment later, she called out, “Hurry, Your Highness. She’s still alive.”

The words chilled him as if ice water had been dumped over his head. He clambered to his feet, wincing at the residual pain still running through him.

“Marius!” Vivienne shouted. “Come!”

Gods above, she was bossy. The problem, if one could call it that, was that Vivienne’s bossiness didn’t bother him. If anything, he found it even more appealing than her swordsmanship and general aptitude for killing.

He ran over to the body, his cloak flapping behind him, and he spared a glance at his chest. His tunic was torn, but when he pulled apart the strips of fabric, all that remained from the First’s claws were four rapidly fading pink lines across his skin.

A curse fell from his lips as he dropped to his knees beside Vivienne. “Is she going to make it?”

The vampire met his gaze, her expression grim. “I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “I’ve never seen wounds like this.”

A lump formed in Marius’s throat, but he swallowed past it, returning his attention to the dying woman.

The First hadn’t just bitten her neck. That would’ve been too civil.

No, the being of death had devoured this poor woman.

Bright red bite marks littered the human’s body. Flesh was torn away in places, and her right arm was barely hanging on. The parts of her body that were not torn to shreds were coated in blood.

“We need to help her,” Marius said, reaching out and running his knuckle down the woman’s cheek. It was one of the only places where she hadn’t been bitten.

Vivienne sucked in a breath. “I… I don’t know if we should.”

He blinked, his brows knitting together. “What?”

Why wouldn’t they help her? She was dying.

Vivienne reached out and gently cupped the woman’s left hand. “Maybe this is better for her,” the vampire murmured. “Maybe we should let her die. Maybe it would be easier.”

Marius stared at Vivienne, his heart racing as he heard the pain in her voice. He wasn’t sure what she’d endured over the course of her life, but as he listened to the unspoken meaning behind her words, his heart ached.

This vampire knew pain intimately. She understood it. And while he hated that she’d obviously been through something awful, that knowledge made him feel even closer to her than their almost-kiss had moments ago.

“It’s not our choice,” he whispered.

“I know,” she replied, turning her attention to the woman. “But I’m sorry it’s one she has to make.”