The Deck of Omens (The Devouring Gray #2) - Christine Lynn Herman Page 0,111
was a Sullivan, through and through, and if he could only use his power to destroy, well, then he would destroy this.
“Not bad,” Richard said, catching his eye from across the clearing. Beside him, Harper hacked off the edge of a root that was trying to snake around her limb. They froze when they touched her, too, in a different way?—crystallizing into red-brown stone. “It’s interesting to me that our kin chose you as a sacrifice. They must not have seen your potential.”
“Nobody deserves to be sacrificed,” Isaac said flatly, locking eyes with him.
He heard what happened next before he saw it. The ground began to shiver, stone animals jolting off-balance, and a great rushing sound emerged from behind him. Something was waking.
The roots Richard had been wielding went limp on the ground, and all around them, surging up from the dirt, came the desiccated remnants of the woods he had tried to destroy. Roots clawed their way free of the dirt and raced toward him, taking an entire tree with them. Its branches clawed at the air as they reached for Richard. Violet was in the center of it all, her red hair whipping across her face. Her arms were outstretched, her companion at her side.
She was radiant and terrifying, impossible to look away from. Isaac watched, his heart thumping in his chest, as she walked slowly toward Richard.
“You’re not the only one who can handle the dead,” she said, and Isaac felt it again, a pull so powerful that she might as well have twined those roots around him, too.
“All three of you are strong,” Richard said thoughtfully as Violet advanced on him. “I’ll give you that.”
Violet flicked her wrist, and the tree branches whipped toward Richard’s torso. His own palms shot out, and a moment before they could touch him, they froze.
“But,” he continued, a vicious grin growing on his face, “I’m stronger.”
He opened his arms wide, and the roots at his feet surged up again, faster than Isaac could process. They sped forward, slicing through the air, and impaled themselves in Violet’s torso. Her body arched forward, and her scream split Isaac’s world in two.
Suddenly Isaac was back on the altar again, listening to Caleb’s and Isaiah’s wails, his body convulsing as he struggled to burn through his restraints. Reality flickered in and out?—he saw his feet moving; heard his voice roaring; saw a flash of Harper in his peripheral vision, her army swarming toward Richard in a red-brown wave.
He struggled forward, gasping for air, until he reached Violet’s body. The roots had released her, dumped her carelessly on the ground. She lay on her side, too still, crimson leaking across her shirt. Orpheus meowed anxiously beside her, butting his head against her cheek.
“Violet,” he breathed, kneeling beside her. “Violet, please?—”
Her eyes fluttered open, and her hands moved weakly, scrabbling across the dirt until she could push herself up into a sitting position. He let out a deep sigh of relief to see her moving?—and then he saw the blood trickling down her chin.
“Isaac,” she croaked, lifting herself up. “It hurts.”
“I know,” he said. Behind them, Harper sent another wave of stone animals Richard’s way, but he knew she couldn’t hold him off forever. None of them were strong enough to do that on their own. “We’re going to get you help, okay?”
Violet let out a choking sound. More blood dribbled from her lips, and Isaac realized she was trying to laugh.
“I know what death looks like,” she said. “I’m not the only Saunders. You can still finish this?—”
She shuddered and began to topple backward. He snaked an arm around her back on instinct, drew her close to him. There was so much blood; it smelled like copper and iron mixed with the decay of the world around them. Isaac’s stomach churned as her eyes fluttered frantically, pupils glazed over.
“Rosie?” she whispered, and he knew in that moment that she was somewhere else. Beside her, Orpheus was curled up on the ground, his body growing limp.
Isaac stared at them both, struggling to comprehend what was happening. He cradled Violet in his arms, unable to breathe, unable to speak. He couldn’t save her, the same way he hadn’t been able to save his mom, his brothers. She would die here, and he was absolutely powerless to stop it.
He heard footsteps approaching and glanced up, expecting Richard’s face. At least his suffering would be short-lived.
But it was not Richard waiting for him?—it was Gabriel.