Catastrophic Attraction - Eve Langlais Page 0,87
just as Roark said, “Remove their heads.”
It made no sense until she turned around and saw the dead bodies rising in stilted and jolting motion. They twitched as they reached for her. Ignoring his instruction, Casey first slashed, only to realize the walking dead did not care about wounds. There was nothing graceful or exhilarating about removing heads and limbs. It didn’t take long to realize this was a stalling tactic because the dead weren’t all that dangerous.
Roark clued in and uttered a noise that was all rage as he swept up the stairs. Because, of course, there were seven stories of stairs. People in the cities seemed awfully fond of them.
Roark didn’t take them slow or measured. He practically flowed upwards, his wrath giving him momentum, and the darkness he emitted practically dragged her along, too. There were more sisters at each level, some shambling in their marionette unlife; others were still alive and, with mad light in their eyes, attacked.
Roark deflected them all and kept moving upwards.
The scene at the top proved less than surprising, an open space ringed in windows and cool from the breezes entering through broken glass. The mosaic on the floor and the curved shape of the walls made Casey think of a place of prayer. Not something she believed in, but she knew many others who did.
Those who’d come to speak to faceless gods lay in a several rows, kneeling in their gray robes, silent. Eerie especially when their heads turned as one and their feral expressions promised attack.
It had to have cost Roark to throw up the shield he did, especially given how it was hammered. While it blocked magic, it didn’t stop Casey from dancing in and out of it, slashing with her knives, aware that Roark remained at her back, fighting as well. A partner in the dance of death.
When it was finally done, the bodies littered the floor, and the slickness of their blood soaked into the stone. They’d eliminated them all, except for one. Her gray robe remained pristine; her expression, though, was quite mad. Standing by her side, face pale and tear streaked, was Charlie.
The poor child. Casey’s heart ached for her knowing how the violence she’d just witnessed would change her.
The darkness around Roark intensified, but he didn’t lash out. Casey wasn’t sure he could. He’d used so much power.
“You don’t want to do this, Anissa,” Roark said, confirming the identity of the sole standing sister.
“Oh, but I do.” A knife flashed in his sister’s hand. “I’ve been waiting for you, brother.” The way she said it held hatred of a depth Casey would have never imagined for a sibling.
“How long have you been faking?” he asked, eyeing her.
The smile turned conniving. “About a year now.”
“Why hide your recovery?”
“Because I needed to gather my strength to orchestrate my revenge.”
“Revenge for what?” he asked with a hint of impatience. “You’re the one who betrayed me.”
“Everything is your fault!” the woman screamed.
Roark remained calm, but tense. Casey stepped into a different shadow as he said, “What do you want with Charlie?”
“Can you blame an aunt for wanting to meet her niece? You never mentioned her before in your visits. No one did, so imagine my surprise to discover I had more family than my treacherous brothers.”
He advanced, and Anissa’s grip tightened on the girl. The princess did her best to be brave, but her eyes filled with tears.
Roark froze. He dropped to his knees. “Leave her alone and take me instead. I’m the one you want to hurt.”
“Actually, you’re the one who needs to watch and suffer as I’ve suffered. Me, who was as strong as any Enclave member, and yet because my father was swamp born, it doesn’t count. And then you come along, a bastard as well, but you made yourself a crown. Called yourself king. I want it.”
“Then take it. Just leave Charlie alone.”
The darkness swirled around him, and Casey wondered that no one could see it. She also wondered why he didn’t attack. Was it still a misguided love for his sibling, or something else?
She moved from shadow to shadow, trying to get closer, only to freeze as eyes hinting of madness turned to look right at her.
“So this is the whore you’ve been bandying around. She’s not as pretty as Theona,” Anissa sneered.
“But she’s a lot more trustworthy,” he muttered.
Staring at Anissa, Casey willed Roark to strike.
As if hearing her, the darkness intensified, and Anissa smiled. “Do you really think you can take