Deadmen Walking (Deadman's Cross, #1)

With a smile, Vine checked to make sure Mara was dead. Once assured, she ripped the harthfret from her throat. “Good death to you, sister.”


Strixa arched a brow as if she disapproved and wanted to say something, but didn’t speak while Vine made her way over to Duel’s henchman. How Duel had always been able to inspire such loyalty from those around him, Vine had never understood. And this particular little tossling pet of Duel’s … he’d been a nuisance almost as much as her ex-husband, so it was time she put the bastard to use.

Touching him on the brow, she cast her spell. “I think I shall let Duel kill you for me.”

*???*???*

Devyl staggered as he felt something go through him like a hot poker. It sliced through his middle and left him in agony. For a moment, he thought Gadreyal had gotten through his defenses.

Until he realized it was something far, far worse.

Mara was dying.

Kicking Gadreyal away from him, he ran to find her and cursed himself for not using his powers to send her away from here, her protests be damned. As he reached Mara and William’s position, he started to yell at William for failing to keep her safe, then noticed that he was bespelled and had no way of assisting anyone.

Not even himself.

So he sank to his knees by her side and gathered Mara’s cold, limp body into his arms and tried to wake her.

She didn’t move. Her skin was icy and cold. Her body completely unresponsive.

Unable to breathe, Devyl cupped her precious cheek in his hand and pressed his forehead to hers as grief tore him asunder. In that moment, he felt shattered. Lost.

Desolate.

“Nay!” His eyes changed over an instant before he blasted William free from the spell holding him. “What happened!”

“She gave Vine your harthfret? I know not what that is, but it sounded important.”

That only confused him more as he glanced down to his sword that was comprised of his wand—the same sword that held his stone. No one had taken his harthfret. It was intact. He could feel the power emanating from it. Mara would have known she didn’t have his harthfret to give …

Yet no sooner had that thought gone through his mind than he realized Mara’s necklace was missing from her throat. “What did you do, Mara?” Tears stung his eyes.

Had she given it over to her sister as a dupe to protect him? He went cold at the thought.

If Vine had her harthfret, she could kill Mara forever. There would be no way to bring her back.

Unable to stand it, he rose with Mara’s body in his arms and handed her to William. “You better not get caught again. And you’d best make damn sure no one touches her. Do you hear me?”

“Aye, Captain.”

Grinding his teeth against the grief and agony inside him, he balled his hand in her precious hair and bit back his tears, then teleported William and Mara to Santiago’s ship, where they’d be safe. At least he prayed for that to be so.

That bastard had better not have gone down during their fight.

More than that, Santiago had best keep Mara safe from all harm until this was over and Devyl could get to her.

Furious and terrified that he wouldn’t be able to save her in spite of his magick, Devyl headed toward Gadreyal with only one thing on his mind.

Saving the only person in this world who mattered to him. The world and all else be damned.

“Where’s Vine?”

“Vine who?”

“Don’t play that game, she-bitch. I’m in no mood for it.” He raked a glare over her blood-colored armor, wanting to add more red to it. And some brain matter as well. There was nothing left inside him now except a fury so raw and potent it would not be appeased until he tasted someone’s heart and soul.

He wasn’t selective as to whose it had to be, either. The beast within was awake and it was salivating.

Gadreyal threw a bolt at him.

He absorbed it and shot it back to her, with interest. Then he added another. And another. He summoned the lightning and shot it at her.

She shrank away in terror.

You better run, trollop! He was done with them all.

There was no Aesir left in him now. None whatsoever.

Devyl swept his gaze over the battle, seeking Vine. It was an even split as to who was winning. His Deadmen were holding their own. But the demons were fierce.

As one of Gadreyal’s men ran at him, he shot a mage blast at the moron and disintegrated him.

“Vine!” he snarled, wanting her head.

“She is here.”

He hesitated at the feminine voice in his head. “Strixa?”

“Aye. And it’s not a trap.”

“Why would you help me?”

Strixa hesitated before she answered. “Vine has broken the code of sisterhood. I will not tolerate that. She has the harthfret and is planning to plant it to kill your Marcelina.”

Devyl let out a curse as she pierced his brain with an image of where Vine was. Damn, that hurt.

But he was grateful beyond measure.

And it was too bad the stupid twitling didn’t have his stone instead of Mara’s. Where she was burying it would have fed his powers even more. But he had no idea what it would do to Mara.

Tiveden, or Tyr’s Wood, was said to be some of the most fertile land here. It’s where the god had once planted his own seeds to grow his warriors. Those preternatural soldiers who’d been born of Tyr’s brook now comprised the bulk of his uncle’s Royal Guard.

That gave him an idea. Pulling the Seraph medallion out, he placed it in the same cage as his own harthfret. The moment the two touched, it sent a jolt through his entire body. One that left him breathless and warm.

Heat spread throughout his body, and for a moment, he heard more than just the aether around him. He could taste it, even.

It also brought him to Gadreyal’s full attention as she felt the awakening of the Seraph blood mixing with his. That caused every member of her horde to disengage from their opponent and head toward him.

Which was great for his men.

For him? Not so much.

Belle wiped the blood from her sword before she and Sancha came to take up positions by his side. “What’s it to be, Captain?”

“All-out bloodletting. No prey, no pay.”

With that, Bart threw out his hand and raised his own army of soldiers made of blackthorns. They twisted up from the ground and into monstrous beasts, complete with thorny swords, standing ready to fight to the end.

Valynda summoned Ghede Nibo—the Vodou loa. He was the leader of the spirits of the dead, and the one Thorn had bargained with for Valynda’s parole.