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The soldier pressed a hand to the gaping wound on his belly, fingers shaky when he pulled a dagger from his guts under whimpers. “Wh-what happened?”
“He feels pain?” Ada asked.
“Or so he believes,” I clarified. “Raised corpses with their souls bound don’t understand what they are… at least, not at first.”
“So, he thinks he’s still alive.”
“Ah, Enosh…” Yarin swatted toward the wound. “Please do fix this. Otherwise, he’ll just bleed on my rugs, not to mention how ghastly it looks.”
All it took was a thought, and the wound closed beneath the leather while the corpse grew frantic. Such was their plight as their minds were too simple to grasp what lay beyond their mortal realms.
Whatever Yarin whispered into his mind calmed him, and my brother strolled over to a woman who wept over the body of a man—presumably, her husband.
He stroked his fingers through her matted brown hair, then gri
“Also, alive.”
“Nothing that can’t be fixed.”
Ada’s heart beat faster, stumbling over its irregularity as Yarin pulled a knife from its sheath. “He can’t just kill her.”
“He won’t.” Not in her sense. Eilam loved to preach about how there needed to be a balance between the three of us, throwing a fit whenever one of us ended a life. “Close your eyes, little one.”
She didn’t.
Of course she didn’t.
My little mortal watched as Yarin leaned over the woman, placing the knife in her lap and his mouth to her ear. “First, little Henry taken by yellow fever, and now Thomas… What’s there left to live for? Nothing. Why not put an end to this misery?” Without a single tremble, the woman took the knife and pressed the glinting blade to her neck. “Do it. You know you want to. Can’t stand the thought of continuing like this. Do it now. Cut!”
One slice, deep enough that dark red blood sprayed from the woman’s neck with each dying beat of her heart, raining down on her husband’s corpse, soaking the front of her dress.
I tasted bile.
Not mine.
My little mortal leaned away from me before she retched onto the ground. She emptied her stomach of her breakfast as all strength leeched from her muscles. I would need to find her food and, if possible, a bed so she may rest.
“Shh…” I pressed a hand to the back of her sweat-covered neck, sensing how the exhaustion of the day finally overpowered her. “See, my little one? Your plight could be worse. You could have ended in the arms of my brother instead.”
“I didn’t think this through,” Yarin yapped as he bound the soul. “That’s on you, Enosh. Always rushing me. Now look how she bled out, her skin all pale and sickly. At least fix the wound or it’ll make odd slapping sounds each time I thrust into her. Who wants that?”
With a sigh, I closed the wound, then let the woman rise. “Two more. Hurry up. My little one is tired and in pain.”
“That one over there, with the spear stuck in the head. Oh, don’t cry, sweet thing.” Yarin stroked tears from the woman’s face that would dry out soon enough on their own. “There will be no more hunger, no sorrows. I’ll take care of you now, yes?”
The woman nodded. “Yes. You’ll take care of me.”
“That’s right, my love. You’re mine now, and I’ll have you in any way I want.”
“Any way you want,” she crooned and pressed her hips flush against him. “I love you.”
“Of course you do.” Yarin’s eyes snapped to mine as my veins heated, but they ignited when he gri