Huntsman's Prey (Kingdom, #7)

“Innocent,” reflection scoffed, “he’s a murderer by trade. Do you know who the Red Queen is? How many heads have rolled because of those two? Never mistake who he is,” she hissed violently and Chrysalis winced as if struck a blow.

“I vow by all that’s sacred that if you don’t do this, I will. I will find him.”

“No!” She screamed it, splashing the water again. “No.” She hugged her arms to her chest, she ached, all of her. Everything hurt. It hurt bad. She couldn’t understand why, but each breath was a terrible pain that flared through her middle and tore down her arms and legs. Made her head feel like it might explode from the pounding, pounding, pounding.

“Then you do it, you end this, Chrysalis, or I will.”

Chrysa nodded, swiping at the hair clinging to her forehead and falling into her eyes. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it, I’ll do it,” she muttered over and over and over and as she said it the pain filled her deeper and deeper, to the point of bursting, making her skin feel tight and swollen, like something was behind it and trying to press outward. The mark on her cheek throbbed, she could barely stand the feel of her hair brushing against it.

Reflection disappeared with a final smile of hate. Chrysa bent over the pool and it was her staring back at her and there were tears in her blue, blue eyes. She sniffed.

But once she moved away from the mirror, away from the only way reflection could see her, she no longer cried.

Now she was smiling, because everything was going according to plan.

*

There were so many dreams. Aeric was perched on the uppermost branch of a cotton candy tree that could bear his weight. The smells were intoxicating and so tempting. His hunger was a ravenous beast inside him. But it wasn’t the hunger that kept him moaning throughout the night. It was his dreams, or rather his nightmares.

Lissa was in danger. She’d been standing where he’d left her. Her furry tail waving back and forth, staring after him never noticing the malevolent shadow creeping behind her. If he’d just turned around, if he’d said good-bye one time, he’d have been able to warn her.

His heart thundered when it pounced. She screamed as dark talons ripped into her back, shredding off her silky fur. She fought, she twisted and screamed with all her might. But the darkness was too strong, it had her in a death grip and wouldn’t let go and then it was wrapping itself around her, crushing like a python’s coils. Her eyes were the last thing he saw and her words echoed in his mind like a ghostly whisper.

There are different shades of black…

And now he understood it. Because he could see it too. Her eyes were pure and deep and full of wonder. The shadow was a greasy smear of wrongness that destroyed all it touched. In a blink, she was gone.

He sat upright, panting and breathing heavily as dreams and reality converged. His head was spinning, his mouth dry and screaming for moisture.

Dreams were just dreams, or so he’d always thought. But no matter how much he tried to convince himself of that, the more his stomach churned and his instincts screamed that he had to find her.

Now.

Calling his sands, he quickly shifted and shot like the speed of thought from the tree, back to where he’d seen her last.

The vivid images of her broken and bloody body lent him an extra burst of speed. The world around him sped by in a blur of color that bled into each other. Dizzy with the rush of moving so fast, he landed in a funneling whirlwind of sand where he’d been last. When he’d gathered the pieces of himself together, he immediately looked at the ground and his heart sank to his knees.

There were patches of blue fur embedded in the ridged edges of tree bark. Large patches, not the typical bit of fluff that a feline might naturally shed, but more than that… he knelt and studied the forest floor… mixed in with the brown and green needles of pine, were dark droplets.

He picked up a handful and brought it to his nose, taking a long sniff. Immediately the scent of metal pricked his nostrils. This was blood, no doubt.

And like magic, once he’d noticed the first drop, it was easy enough to spot the trail of it leading toward a dirt path that’d not been there the day before.

The path was lined with still snoring primroses and baby’s breath.

“Wake up,” he growled at the one nearest him.

The red and white speckled rose gave a final loud snore, before yawning loudly and peering at him with angry, red eyes. “What?” It snapped in a hiss whisper of sorts. “There are babies present, keep your voice down, man.”

Clenching his jaw, because only in Wonderland would a flower dare to reprimand him, Aeric jerked his head toward the path. “Did you happen to notice a blue cat last night or this morning?”

The flower rolled its brilliant eyes. “You mean the one screaming and yammering like bloody murder ten minutes ago, aye! Bloody, damn feline nearly woke me babes.”

“Ten minutes ago?” He jerked to a standing position and only just realized the tracks did indeed look fresh. “Which way?”

The rose pointed a green petal straight ahead.