Skyll’s daughter, or the cowboy’s love, or Z’s fate. She was not the berserker’s addiction.
She was one thing, and had been since the day of her conception.
Her monster.
I am my monster.
My monster is me.
It was enough.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“I forgot you,” the witch said, tenderly. “But the spell was broken the moment you entered my world. Now, now I remember everything.”
She shuddered, and for a second looked almost human.
Almost…afraid.
Rune lay still and silent beneath her warm regard. The witch touched her face, her fingers so gentle Rune almost couldn’t feel them.
Damascus had embraced her and lifted her from the horror of the burning lair, and once they reached the top and her feet were once again on solid ground, a carriage had been waiting.
The carriage was huge and black, matching the four horses that drew it.
Inside the carriage waited a creature unlike any Rune had ever seen.
“This is my imp, Rune,” Damascus said, leaning forward to pat the creature on the knee. “She’s my…well, my friend, aren’t you, darling? Say hello to my daughter. Rune, I will share Imp with you. She is really quite resourceful and I expect her to be around long after this world ends.”
Like a cockroach.
Imp grinned, baring small, pearly teeth behind flesh-colored lips. She was around four feet tall with long, curly blonde hair, light brown skin, and wore a frilly pink party dress.
She was the most ridiculous thing Rune had ever seen—but looking at her caused Rune’s stomach to tighten painfully.
Imp was a scary little bitch.
“I know why my obsession with my Nicolas became so profound. Some part of me understood that he’d taken you—even though I didn’t know who you were. Or even that you existed.” Damascus took a deep breath, then let it out, smiling.
“But you are here now, and that’s all that matters.” She didn’t seem concerned with Rune’s silence. Rune lay upon her slight breast like an infant, her stare glued desperately to the witch’s face.
Yes, some part of her realized the crawlers had broken her.
No part of her cared.
“You are to destroy me, so the tale goes. To redeem the worthless people of Skyll.
“But you know the tale is a lie. The truth is, you are meant to rule with me.” The witch’s smile was familiar. So familiar.
Rune averted her eyes, uncomfortable.
“You’ve always longed for your family. I know that. You’ve pined for your roots. For the love of a mother.” She shrugged, then lifted a lock of Rune’s black hair, rubbing it between her fingers. “You look so much like me. You see that, don’t you? Don’t you, baby?”
Damascus looked nothing like the apparition Rune had met in Rock County.
She looked…
Like Rune.
“No,” Rune whispered, when Damascus waited. “I don’t see it.”
Damascus laughed. “You drank of me and survived. I remembered you then. But I forgot again immediately. Not only was that a curse of this fucking world, but those who spirited you away managed to sneak a potent little spell upon me. I would not remember you.” She laughed again, but that time, it was full of bitterness. “They stole you, and they stole my memory of you.”
Rune had to ask. She entwined her fingers with Damascus’. “Why?”
“You were created to defend Skyll. That’s what I believed. But to the ones who plotted against me, you were created to destroy me. They knew someday I’d take it all.” She shrugged, and tightened her grip on Rune’s fingers. “You’re my match. No one else is.” Damascus lifted her chin. “No one else ever could be. But you are of my flesh.” She leaned closer, grinning when Rune’s eyes widened. “You are exactly like me.”
“I’m a protector.” Rune’s heart was beating so hard it hurt her chest. She pushed her fist against the pain. “I’m not a murderer.”
“How do you feel?” The witch smiled, waiting.
And Rune realized she was completely healed. The things the crawlers did to her lived only inside her head. Her body was better than ever.
The witch had withdrawn the power she’d sent gushing into Rune to heal her, to make her strong.
It didn’t matter.
“Better,” Rune said, and sat up slowly. She released Damascus’ hand. “Tell me how I exist. Skyll is…”
The witch made a dismissive gesture. “Skyll is your spirit. Skyll…animates you, you could say. All the shimmer lords shared parts of themselves to give that spirit a home. A body. You were made to be so very special. And whether I survive you or not, this is where you belong.”