Emmery plucked a vial and handed it to Dez before she selected one herself. Blindly, he took it, his eyes fixed on some text on the fountain’s base.
Her heart roared in her ears as she watched him read, his hand over his heart, rubbing the space as if it ached.
When his eyes flicked back to hers, he said, “It translates to ‘Make your wish. Claim what’s yours. Leave nothing but blood’.”
“With all magic, there’s a sacrifice of some kind. An offering.” She frowned at the fountain. “Do you think it wants blood?”
Destonne tilted his head and gave a quick nod. “It’s worth a try.”
Emmery stepped toward it first. “But it wasn’t me who made the pactum.” She bit into her cheek until it hurt. “Do you think it’ll still work?”
“I’m not sure, Em. Reize only said the pactums are kept here. And this fountain seems like it.” He stepped up beside her andoffered his hand. “Since you’ve already bled tonight, what’s once more, yeah?”
She gave him her hand. As he bowed his head to slice a shallow line from a thorn from his crown, an image of him licking the blood, his soft mouth and warm tongue against her skin, sprang into her mind though she tried to chase it away. His eyes flicked to hers as if the same image plagued him, too.
“Think of your wish,” he said, his voice hoarse, and attention wholly hers. “What you want. Your memories, and all your unanswered questions.”
Emmery squeezed her blood into the fountain and did just that. She thought of how badly she wanted reasons for her destruction of Ellynne. How she made her way to the gate. Why she had agreed to marry Vesper. Her past.
Answers for Shade. Who he was. If they had known each other before. Or if he truly only existed in her dreams.
The blood flow ceased and the fountain eerily stilled.
Iridescent liquid spilled into the angel’s cupped hands, a rainbow held within its depths. Emmery lunged to place the vial beneath before the liquid spilled into the basin below. When the vial filled to the brim, the trickle stopped. She corked the half-full tube and peered at the strange fluid.
“What do I do with this?” she asked. She searched for somewhere to tuck it, but had to settle for her sleeve, or rather Dez’s sleeve.
“I’m not sure. But I have a contact that may have answers.”
He sliced his palm on one of his thorns and slowly extended his hand over the fountain. Ripples echoed below as his blood dripped.
Like a god, Dez stood before the fountain. The image of him dressed only in his trousers, back covered in scars and blood, oozed divinity, like poets would write ballads about this and artists would spend hours painting his likeness.
She shook the ridiculous thought loose.
As the third drop fell, the fountain stilled and the stream stopped. The surface froze over. Black ice crackled along it. Dez stared, his eyes wide.
But as the angel cried once more, liquid spilled into her hands, however this time, she cried tears of blood.
After he successfully caught the blood in the vial and corked it, the tension fell from his shoulders. He met Emmery’s gaze and gave her a dazzling smile, all sunshine and warmth and victory.
Before she could return it, a huge pair of yellowed eyes appeared in the brush behind him. Then another. And another.
The door slammed shut behind her. A lock clicked into place.
And Emmery bit back a scream.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
EMMERY
Two humongous sabers emerged from the brush, their silver coats glowing as if woven from moonlight. Larger than any bear, elephant, and wolf, they were death incarnate. Their long, bone-splintering fangs hung past their chins and dripped saliva, as if they’d been trapped and starved for some time, and now she and Destonne looked like a fine meal.
Their growls shook the room as others emerged from the bushes, until five beasts surrounded them, two parents and three offspring, all ready to devour them in one bite.
Dez stood in its line of sight, their exit lay behind them, and this was so very bad. His fingers slid to his sword, and the saber tracked the movement.
“Fuck,” Emmery whispered. “Don’t. Move.”