her son too, long-lived like Azazel, except Azazel had no idea he had a half-brother who was still alive.
“Will you tell Azazel who you are to him?”
Keon’s lip curled. “And have him pity me?”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
Music drifted toward us, the same lilting melody that had taken Uriel. “Can you hear it?”
Keon nodded. “This way!”
We fell into a sprint, veering away from the river and into the forest. The music got louder and louder until it was all we could hear, and then we broke into a large clearing with a log cabin in the center of it, and on the porch sat the man in rags from earlier.
The music stopped.
Seriously? “You… What is going on?”
“Your friend?” He looked to his left, and I followed his gaze to find Uriel strapped to a tree. By the looks of it, he was unconscious.
I took a step toward him, and mist bubbled out from behind him. It swirled into fog and rushed toward me, cutting off my path to him. For a moment, it was impossible to see anything because the fog was everywhere, reducing visibility.
“Fee?” Keon called out.
“I’m here.”
And then the fog dropped, so it was a sea of churning smoke at ankle height. The cabin was gone, and so was the forest. Instead, I was surrounded by stone statues in various poses. The air was still as if holding its breath.
“Keon?” Where was he?
Fuck this place and its mind games.
I wove between the statues, hoping there weren’t any traps beneath the fog. The stone was moss-covered here and there, and the back of each statue was cracked and broken as if someone had taken a hammer to each one.
Limbo sucked, and I was so done with it. “Keon!”
A figure stepped out from behind a statue up ahead, and I sagged in relief. “Thank God. Keon, we need to find Uriel.” I walked toward him. “There has to be a way to get back to that cabin.”
Keon drew his daggers, eyes narrowing as he fell into a fighting stance.
“Keon?” My step faltered, and then he rushed toward me. It took a moment for my brain to comprehend that he was attacking me. “Keon, what the fuck.” I dove out of the way and rounded on him. “What are you—” Shit, I rolled to avoid him again.
“Die, beast!” he hissed, and lunged at me.
Fuck this place. My scythe bloomed to life, and I used the staff to block his assault and shove him back, but I caught a good look at his face; his eyes were glazed as if he was in a dream. Like a sleepwalker. Like someone who was seeing something that wasn’t there.
Shit. I needed to wake him up. My scythe winked out, and I punched his jaw. Pain jarred my arm and had me stumbling back.
Were his bones made of steel?
He moved fast, accelerating his attack, and it took everything I had to evade his slashes and blows.
“Keon, it’s me.”
Fuck he was relentless. I broke away from him, launched myself over the statues, and took flight, but he was in the air after me. I soared up and met an invisible barrier that knocked me back, slamming me into Keon. We both hit the ground together, and then I was pinned beneath him. His hand on my throat, dagger arching down toward my face. I grabbed a fistful of earth and threw it in his eyes.
He cursed and released me in favor of his eyes, and I twisted, flipping us both so he was under me. It was a matter of a split second and I had him pinned, his dagger hand immobilized, but it wouldn’t last. He was stronger than I was. I needed to wake him up, and a punch to the face hadn’t done it.
I slapped him.
He hissed at me, pulled his hand from his face, and went for my neck. Crap. I knocked his arm away, grabbed his chin, and kissed him hard.
He stilled beneath me, every muscle in his body tensing. I kept my mouth on his, lips pressed to his, and slowly released his dagger wrist. He didn’t move. Okay, this was good. I brought my hand to his cheek and laid my palm against it. A sigh rattled his chest, and his mouth softened beneath mine. Was it working?
“Keon?” I spoke against his mouth, maintaining contact. “It’s me. Fee. You awake now?”
His hand was on my hip, and then he was pulling me closer, and yes, yes, he was definitely awake