“Plotting? Like with that contraceptive. Now I know why you screwed me over.”
He raised his brows in challenge: Do you?
“The Hanged Man is also known as the Traitor.” His eyes grew heavy-lidded with pleasure, convincing me that he was like every other evil Arcana I’d tangled with—devious killers who liked to play with their prey. “I entrusted only two things to you: my grandmother’s care and my birth control, giving you just two opportunities for betrayal. You stabbed me in the back both times.” Actually, he was worse than the others; I never trusted them!
“Ah-ah, Evie, your hair’s turning red. Since you can’t be controlled, you must be destroyed.” The wolves snarled, baring those lethal fangs. “I’ll just nudge Lark into action.” The light around his head flared.
A split-second later, the wolves vaulted toward me. My vines shot upwards to twine around them. Green barbs muzzled their snouts, then slammed their heads to the floor.
Claws bared, I lunged at Paul. I slashed the arm he raised in defense, my thorns hitting home. My poison would lay him out in seconds.
Through the slices in his shirt, I looked for injuries.
Not a mark on him.
How? How was that possible? “You heal like me?” But this had been instantaneous.
As the wolves struggled against my faltering vines, he tilted his head at his arm. “Damnedest thing, Evie. I can’t be injured, can’t die. I suppose the Hanged Man is already dead in a way. I transcend death.”
A crash sounded as Aric broke down the door. “Come to me, Empress. Let’s end this once and for all.” I heard the rhythmic ringing of his spurs heading up the stairs.
I debated trying to stall him with more vines, but I wanted him to see Paul’s tableau. “He’s the Hanged Man. Come look at him.” I glanced down at the stairwell.
Aric was ascending, his swords drawn, black armor glinting. “I know this. He’s shown me the truth about you.”
“The sphere is Paul’s. You’re brainwashed within it!”
“I see his sphere. I feel and welcome it. It protects me from your mesmerizing and gives me clarity such as I’ve never known.” Yet his eyes were blank with fury.
I didn’t want to hurt him—even if I could. The only place left to flee was the third floor. “Fine; hate me, but don’t harm our child.”
Raw grief flooded his gaze, and he thundered, “There is no baby!”
“Everybody in this castle knows I’m pregnant!” I’d been convinced of it when I’d gazed at that white rose. After days of my constant vomiting, there was no way anyone else could doubt it.
Paul chuckled, his smugness palpable. “Just now, while Death was breaking down the door, I mentally informed him about your plot—how you forced me to fake a pregnancy test, so he would sacrifice his life to protect you and your made-up kid. Now that he knows the truth, he’s going to protect me and kill you for tricking him.”
“You couldn’t force him to hurt his child, so you’re pulling a bogus pregnancy test out of your ass?”
Before I could claw the smirk off Paul’s face, Aric leapt to the landing, his swords flashing out to slice my vines.
I screamed in pain, stumbling backward toward the next set of stairs.
Aric followed. “You’re just as you’ve always been. Forever a temptress. Forever a liar. I knew you could never be trusted, but I wanted you so much. I was weak.”
“Your mind is being manipulated.” The Hanged Man was this powerful? Able to control the reigning Arcana victor? An immortal who’d lived for millennia? “Paul’s wearing Finn’s icon—I’m not!” I raised my hands.
Aric didn’t even glance at them, didn’t seem to hear me. “Throughout our history, you’ve sought to end me, but you’ve never connived quite like this. A pregnancy, Empress?”
“You are the one who had to convince me I was knocked up! I didn’t want to believe. But I accepted it. We both did.”
“A lie is a curse you place on yourself. Now it’s time for you to pay for yours.”
Nothing I could say would sway Aric. I whirled around, running full-out. Desperation spurred my powers, and I put up wall after wall of thorns, like rows of barbed wire.
His swords slashed through the blockade as he forced his way forward. He knew how much that would hurt me, but still he cut.
A nightmare greeted me on the next flight of stairs. Hissing snakes coiled around the banister and poured down the steps. With a shudder, I charged into that gauntlet.
Fangs jabbed my boots as I leapt and dodged. From the handrail, snakes struck my arms, ripping my thick jacket. Tufts of down wafted in the air. “Lark, enough!” Pain shot through my hand. Oh, shit! One had gotten me. Was it venomous?
I’d be immune, but would this kid?
On the third-floor landing, I chanced a look back at Death. I saw no hesitation in him as he annihilated my defenses.
Where to run? There was a tower similar to mine in this wing. Maybe I could reinforce the door with vines.
I staggered up the last flight of stairs, then locked the door behind me.
Struggling to concentrate over all the sounds—Death’s spurs, the animal calls, Lark’s wails, that ominous cracking of ice—I managed a couple of vines to create another barricade.
The windows in this room had latches, unlike the sealed ones in my tower. But then, Aric had never intended to imprison anyone in here.
I opened a window, wincing against a gust. I gazed out with watering eyes. The mass of river ice had buckled into gigantic white shards. It looked like the earth had fangs.
Paul’s yellow dome had spread down the mountain to capture Circe’s river and my thorns. Maybe the Priestess wouldn’t be touched by his influence. Her mind and body weren’t actually here.
I peered down at the long drop. Normally, I wouldn’t even think—would just jump. If I could regenerate from a fall out of a helicopter while Bagman contagion fouled my blood, I could regenerate from anything.
But the kid . . .
Ice coated the slippery shale roof, the tiles glistening in the continual lightning. I’d grown rose vines on the other side of the castle, but they’d been frozen in the storm. I called on them to spread across the roof. Sluggish to respond, they needed me to rejuvenate them.
But I had nothing left in me, no way to fuel them.
Aric gave a yell; I whirled around to see a sword tip breach my vines. He was slicing through the door and my barricade as though through paper. “You will pay, Empress.” He kicked the remains of the door open. “Pay for making me believe.”
Heart pounding, I climbed up onto the windowsill. Another gust nearly knocked me back into the room. “We love each other, Aric! Shake off Paul’s power.”
Swords raised, he stalked closer—an assassin in black, with one target. The eerie sound of those spurs was about to drive me crazy!
I swallowed and stepped outside. Balancing my boots on the slick roof, I inched away from the window. Despite my coat, the cold punched the breath from my lungs.