Vanquished Gods (Hallowed Games #2)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

I sat in the little cottage in Veilcross Haven, sipping tea while the morning light streamed in over a table full of freshly baked bread and fruit.

Leo sat at the table, carefully drawing a picture of a beautiful queen wearing a crown, raising her hands to the sky.

Godric sat in the corner, mending a pair of trousers. “So, how is the magic practicing going, Elowen?”

I sighed. It had been three days of practicing in the temple so far, without making any headway. “I can’t say I’ve made much progress yet, but I’m starting to get less creeped out by the death temple, so that’s something.”

Godric looked up from his mending. “That is something. Well done.”

I nodded at his work. “I see they’re keeping you busy here.”

“Do you know what, Elowen? They’ve been very welcoming.”

“What have you been up to besides mending?”

He nodded at Leo. “He’s been baking up a storm. And Hugo and I have been helping to make the vampire pendants in the forges. We can’t help with the magic, but we can help with the metal, you know? Granted, the magic is the hard part.”

On his paper, Leo drew round faces at the queen’s feet, with large, toothy grins. “I’m making a picture of you, Elowen. You can take it with you.”

He smiled at me, turning the paper around to face me.

My eyebrows went up with surprise. “Are those skulls at my feet?”

“Yeah! Because you’re the Underworld Queen.” He beamed at me, then grabbed it back again. “Hang on, I forgot the blood.”

I cleared my throat. “Thank you, Leo. That’s…that’s lovely.”

I stood in the temple once more with Sion, the cool air raising goosebumps on my skin.

A lock of Sion’s long hair fell before his face. The torchlight highlighted his sharp jawline, his cheekbones. “Eventually, you will work up to using a wand, but we’re not there yet. You still need to get over that feeling of hunger.”

I nodded. “And you’re sure I can do it?”

He took a step closer, towering over me. “Certain. This time, I want you to breathe deeply and imagine letting your magic slide back into your body.”

I craned my neck to look up at him, craving death, the mortal touch. A dark impulse thrummed through my body, the aching desire to see his beauty wither before me. I was a serpent squeezing the life out of a flower in full bloom.

Inhaling, I reached up to touch his face, placing the palm of my hand flat against his cheek. His skin was cold beneath my palm, smooth to the touch. If he were human, I would have felt the heat, the pulse within him. But I felt only cold marble, icy perfection. He closed his eyes, sighing quietly, and the charge flickered and danced from my body into his.

“Now, Elowen.” His deep, velvety voice warmed me. “Let it in. Open yourself to it.”

His eyes opened again, his gaze searing into me, then brushing down my body for a moment. I felt as if he could see all of me—right through the ivory dress. Why did this monster smell so good?

My breath sped up, my pulse hammering in my ears. His closeness, the scorching look in his eyes did something dangerous to me. The scent of him—dark, heady, faintly perfumed—made me dizzy. His powerful body radiated a magnetic pull that made me want to move closer. A destructive part of me wanted to close the distance between us, to press my body against the steel of his.

His gaze lowered, lingering on my lips.

But that’s not what I was supposed to be focusing on. The death magic.

I took a breath, and from my palm, I felt a rush of heat flowing back from his body into mine. The resonating, euphoric thrill of magic spilled along my arm and into my chest and belly. My head fell back, and I felt the magic filling me. I closed my eyes as my own magic moved from Sion into me. With my head still tilted back, I let myself give in to the thrill of it.

“There you are, love,” he purred.

My pulse raced. There it was, the vampire seduction power at work…

With the shock of that realization, I pulled my hand away from him. “That’s enough, I think.”

“Oh, dear. Were you in danger of enjoying something or escaping that cage you’ve built for yourself?”

“You have a lot of pretty words to say about death, but that’s not how I see it.” My body vibrated with my own dark power, and a vague memory of death stirred in the recesses of my mind—Sion, bare chested, covered in my father’s blood. I stepped back from him, my muscles tensing. “How did you kill my father?” I asked sharply. “I remember your shirt was off.”

Shadows slid through his eyes, just for a moment. “Where did that question come from? Do you remember it now?”

My throat tightened. “I just remembered a flash. Only blood on the anemones, blood on you, and you weren’t wearing a shirt. Did my father tear it off? Did he suffer when he died?”

His expression shuttered, a muscle flickering in his jaw. “A vampire’s bite doesn’t hurt, and our fangs have a sedating effect. He wasn’t hurt, but he did fight. I remember thinking he was desperate to protect someone.” He took a step closer. “If we can take down the Order, we won’t have to live in fear of each other anymore. No more Ravens, no more whispered confessions, no more neighbors turning on each other. When the Order is gone, the resistance won’t need to exist.”

I swallowed hard. “If we defeat the army, won’t the Pater just form a new one? We can’t kill all the humans in Merthyn.”

“Well, we could .”

“The Pater must have a weakness.”

He nodded. “Yes, it would be nice to know that, wouldn’t it? I spent years on that, you know, before you stabbed me in the chest and revealed what I was.”

I ignored that comment. “But you must have learned a ton about him, yes?”

“I learned every single thing about him. How he thinks. What he eats. What infuriates him, and what he fears. But I did not learn what makes him immortal. He never lets anyone get that close to him.”

“No one?”

He frowned. “He has one chambermaid who helps him dress and brings him his tea. She flirts with him like you wouldn’t believe, and he pretends not to notice. I have heard rumors that he confides in her. Of course, I was never in his room to find out. I did my best to pump her for information, but she’s frustratingly discreet. I did seduce her, again and again, but I couldn’t get a single crumb of information out of her, even when she begged me to fuck?—”

I held up a hand. “I get the point.” A plan started to formulate in my mind. “So, you know what her voice and accent sound like?”

“Of course.” He frowned. “What do you have in mind?”

“When you were trying to find his weakness before, you didn’t have any witches on your side. Now you do. Are any of the witches in Veilcross skilled in glamouring?”

His eyes glinted in the torchlight. “You’re not planning to go back to Ruefield, are you? After you just barely escaped the trials with your life?”

My pulse quickened. “I really believe the only way this ends is with the Pater dead. We have to learn his weakness. Or what if I could weaken him without killing him? What if we could drag him out and keep him caged until the world forgets him?”

“Do you have any idea how heavily Ruefield is now guarded since you and the other witches made your escape? Every tunnel, every crack, every door is manned by dozens of armed Luminari. Of course, you could always kill them en masse, but you don’t seem ready to take that route.”

“But they won’t be on high alert for the chambermaid, will they? Let’s just start with trying to learn more. You distract her, and I go into his chambers, glamoured as the maid.”

“This is insane.”

“There is no non-insane option,” I pointed out.

He stared at me, his golden eyes glinting with intensity. “I wasn’t saying that as a negative. Though I do wonder why we need to send you in and not someone less valuable.”

“Because I don’t need to be armed to kill him. If he turns on me, all it takes is a stroke from my fingertips to send him into the abyss. At least until he comes back—but by then, I will be long gone.”

“You’re not going until you have her voice and mannerisms absolutely perfect. How is your Penore accent?”

“Not bad, I think. How’s this?” I said in my best attempt.

“Needs work. She has a husky, seductive tone. And you will need to sway your hips and give a saucy smile, like you’re thinking about sex at all times. And gods know what you’d have to do with the Pater behind closed doors.”

I cocked my head. “Tell me this: why, exactly, are you doing all this to bring down the Order? You’re safe here. They don’t know this island exists.”

Firelight shone in his eyes. “Eternal life is a gift, but one needs to be worthy of it. That, and I fucking hate the Order more than anything, and nothing delights me more than revenge. Like I said, a soul is just a reason for living.”

He turned and walked away from me.

Why did I feel like there was so much he wasn’t telling me?