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My last words are a whisper of hope. My last words are Ninmen Eslal.
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Chapter 32
I don't even try to make another sound. The silver burns so hot that I can't swallow. Adamen chants some kind of spell but I don't really listen to the words. I just squirm in pain as tears cascade across my skin, mixing with the sweat that dampens my hair.
Semyon pulls the needle of silver from my neck. He releases my throat from his grip and reaches over to exchange the empty vial for the syringe of black liquid in Adamen's hand. He plunges it into my jugular. "The witch serum first. Once this takes hold, we give you the wolf serum."
Semyon climbs off my body and I hear his footfalls as he walks to the table. I press my eyes closed in a silent sob. Adamen continues his incantations. I catch the occasional word. Namtud. Usutuku.
Rebirth. Warrior.
This witch serum of Semyon's hurts like a fucking bitch. It's cold, so icy cold it burns. I feel it crawling through every vein, snaking its way through my body. But my skin, my skin is on fire. Sweat trickles from my hairline, pools on my sternum. My torn shirt clings to my body, itchy and wet.
The heart monitor beeps a rapid rhythm that sounds nowhere near as fast as it feels in my chest. I swear my heart is going to squeeze itself through my ribs and make a run for it. My stomach twists like a fist and bile climbs my throat.
I turn my head and projectile vomit a spray of blood on Adamen's thin cotton shirt. He looks down with disgust and meets my eyes with a fierce glare.
I cackle a silent, fiery laugh.
"Khristos, that's a fucking mess," Semyon says as he looks over his shoulder at us and rolls his eyes. I laugh even harder despite the pain and fear, jostling the handcuffs against the stainless steel of my bedrail in delight.
I look back at Adamen, who pulls a tissue from his chest pocket and wipes a smattering of bloody vomit from his chin.
And that's when I see it.
I don't focus on it. He mustn't catch me watching. I keep my eyes on the old man. But my attention is not on him.
My attention is on the door that slowly closes behind him.
I hear what the others can't. I hear the click of the lock.
I smell the faintest scent of sage, picked from a windowsill under the full moon. Crushed with a granite pestle. Burned with a beeswax candle.
The lights flicker.
Adamen's eyes widen. A venomous smile creeps across my face as my fangs descend.
Adamen takes a breath doesn't have a chance to call Semyon's name.
A deafening crack fills the air and the lights go out. The room is plunged into night. It's like we've been hurtled into outer space. Stars glitter and burst around us as they fall from the ceiling, bouncing and hissing on the floor.
Adamen's wheelchair is knocked over. The old man lets out a feeble cry as he hits the floor with a clattering thud. A whisper fills the air from every direction, encasing us in incantations. Semyon is thrown against the wall in a burst of lightning.
The shackles on my wrists and ankles fall apart.
I erupt from the bed and land on the old man as he sputters and squirms, trying to pull away from his overturned chair. His fingertips squeak on the polished floor as he makes a futile final effort to drag himself to the door. I grab his throat and raise his face to mine and hiss, but no sound comes out.
The old man laughs.
"No songs for you anymore, vampire," he says as a thin cha
And no life for you anymore, old man, I think, and with a smile of fangs and poison I clamp my teeth to his neck and tear it apart.
Crackling electric light covers me and lights my skin in shimmering blue. I swallow all the blood I can in deep draws as a dome of black glitter forms around me. I smell the familiar scent of Ediye. She wraps her arms across my waist from behind as I suck a last gulp of blood from the dying warlock in my grip.
I hear claws scrape with furious desperation against the dome and I know without looking that it's Semyon, transformed and trying to get in. There's a ripping sound and a slice of light tears through the fractured surface of the sphere. Not only did he survive the lightning blast in his human form, but he’s fucking pissed about it.
"Time to go," Ediye says.
She presses me close to her chest. "Sabbi lillaam barbi lillaam," she says, her voice layered like chords in a song.
The dome explodes around us and we fall in a heap together on her living room floor.
"What the fuck," Ediye says when we finally catch some air in our lungs. She turns me over and grimaces. I've never seen her look this worried, not even when she stole my charred body from the stake like a macabre magic trick. "What happened to you?"
I shake my head. It feels like my brain jostles against its walls of bone. I close my eyes and lower my face away in despair. Tears flow across my burning skin as Ediye's palm slides over my forehead. Her touch feels cold when it's usually warm.
"You're burning up. Tell me what the hell happened."
I shake my head again.
"Talk to me, Lu."
I smash my fist against the floorboards in frustration and I feel Ediye back away. I don't open my eyes. I don't raise my head. I make a writing motion with my hand.
Ediye gets up and rushes to her desk, bringing back a notepad and a pen, shoving them into my hands.
No voice, is all I write.
"No voice? There's no one here, it's just me. No one will hear you."
NO VOICE. STOLEN. I write.
"What?.." Ediye whispers. She tilts my head up to look in my eyes. Her gaze flows across my skin and she leans back to examine my throat. I see the swirl of her magic transform her eyes. It feels like looking into the heart of the universe, sparkling stars swirling like galaxies hurtling through the cosmos. "Silver?"
I nod.
Ediye's fingers travel a gentle path on my neck and she closes her eyes. She presses the precise point where the needle entered to deliver the toxin that stripped my siren song from my flesh. Ediye begins an incantation but my throat burns until the pain is unbearable. I clamp my hand around her wrist and beg her to stop with a soundless plea.
"My God," she whispers, her gaze flowing down my arms before they land on my face once more. The stars recede from her eyes as they return to their familiar, warm black. "Some kind of spell also, Lu."
The burn of my throat meets the cold serum in my blood. I feel a flutter of pain like pins needling my eye sockets. My fingertips are numb.
"Where is the Reaper?"
Killed. Back in the Shadow Realm, I write, though I can barely grip the pen. The numbness in my fingers climbs the backs of my hands, passes my wrists. My tongue feels too thick in my mouth.
"What did they put in you?"
Don't know. Blood of Adamen. Something black.
My hand jerks across the page. My arms and legs tremble. I drop to the floor and the last thing I hear is Ediye calling my name. The world goes dark.
When I wake, shivering and confused, Ediye is hovering over me, wiping a cold cloth across my skin. I try to talk but no sound comes out. For a moment I think it's a dream, a terrible dream. When I see the worry and despair in Ediye's eyes, I remember that it's real. I can't make a sound. Not an incredulous laugh at the irony of fates. Not a sweet song to bring Ediye joy or sooth the ball of nerves in my chest. Not a desolate cry of sorrow and loss. Nothing.