Melisande clutched the pitcher and nodded. She opened her mouth like she was going to say something else, then shut it and turned away.
I followed her, careful not to plant my paws too close. She turned her head to the side as soon as we were out of earshot. “Sometimes with the way he looks at me, I’m convinced he’s planning on using me for his next sacrifice.”
I snorted and shook my head a little, unable to speak out loud without half the Circle hearing me. Leviathan just hated talking to people. If I had to put Melisande’s life in another Prince’s hands, he’d be at the top of my list for the most honorable and trustworthy.
We found the eastern pyres with the dead arranged in a neat row atop it. They’d been cleaned and dressed in shrouds, but they were unanointed, and the pyres were still undecorated.
I remained in the middle of the main road as Melisande circled to the other side, carefully tipping the pitcher and letting the pale yellow oil pool over their still faces and hair.
“I’m surprised he let me do this at all,” she said quietly, moving down to soak the shrouds. “So much of this is my fault, Belial.”
Sitting back on my haunches, I stared at her, willing her to hear the words in her head: it’s not your fault at all.
“All I think about is what could’ve happened if I’d just been faster, if I hadn’t hesitated… and when I’m not thinking about that, I think about what must be happening to them right now.”
Her lower lip trembled, and she bit down on it hard. When she moved on to the next body, her face was still.
“I wonder if Lucifer feels pain from the soul-bond, or what Satan is forcing him to do. I wonder if Vyra is safe, if maybe there’s still some small part of Lucifer that remembers who she is and wants to protect her, or if…”
She trailed off, her lips flattening. “I shouldn’t think about it. All of our energy should be focused on tracking them down and finding them, not worrying ourselves sick over it. I can’t help anyone if I just sit around and cry about it.”
Melisande looked up at me, her golden eyes hard. “We’re going to get them back,” she said. “I already know this. I don’t have time to waste entertaining bullshit nightmares about it; we’re going to do what we need to do.”
I growled in agreement, padding down the street to remain parallel to her as she moved on. A small line had appeared between her brows, growing deeper as she became lost in thought.
A gentle breeze kicked up, blowing a cloud of smoke away from the Circles and letting a hint of the Brightside sun peek through. The sunlight caught in the violet strands of my angel’s hair, and for a moment I was distracted by the shine of it.
The brass pitcher in her hand sparkled, sending out blinding rays of light. I blinked, realizing that wasn’t the only light shining.
In one of the tall buildings behind her, an obsidian tower listing slightly to the side, the sun gleamed off something silver in one of the windows. A tiny pinpoint of light, catching the bolt of a crossbow.
All of my senses reached out as the bowman pulled the trigger, the tiniest audible click.
There was no time to move. I roared, blasting Melisande with the sound.
She flinched, dropping the pitcher and splattering oil everywhere.
And gasped as the bolt missed her heart and ripped over her shoulder, opening a line that spilled gleaming red over her front and sent several dark feathers flying off the edge of her wing.
The bolt buried itself in my foreleg, a pain I didn’t feel at all as I jumped over the pyres and stood over her, gently pressing her to the ground.
A panic of thoughts blared through my mind. I needed to shift, to hunt down the assassin- but while she was under me, she was shielded from all sides.
To leave her defenseless, or stay here? The question gnawed at me for several tense seconds.
The assassin vanished from the window. The breeze carried the faint sound of a crossbow hitting stone as they abandoned it, but the aura of the Sixth Circle was suddenly dangerous, power rising from the stones and from the skulls that hung everywhere.
Leviathan was looking through them, searching through the empty eye sockets of the bones for the intruder.