The Arcana Chronicles 3: Dead of Winter

“I intend to, Empress, but not in the way you’re thinking.” His accented words were loaded with innuendo.

“How can I believe that? Right before I knocked you out, you went for your sword!”

His blond brows drew together. “I was reaching for a vial of antitoxin. I’d had it formulated before the Flash, in the hope of neutralizing your poisons. I’ve always wondered if it would work.”

Antitoxin? Confusion rocked me. “B-but we’ve fought each other so many times. And you . . . you always win.”

Another javelin; another sword parry.

“Evie, you get away from him!” Jack bellowed.

“You know well that I would never be able to harm you,” Aric chided, “even should I have wanted to. Just as you refuse to hurt me. Twice now you could’ve killed me. This last time, you took pains to protect me.”

“But you . . . and then . . . your sword?”

He gazed at me with infinite patience. “Never again, sieva.”

I stared into his eyes, that soul-deep sense of connection sweeping over me. Oh, dear gods, I . . . believed him.

I had to defuse this situation before anyone got hurt. The trues! But Matthew couldn’t paint his blood on Death’s lethal skin. Could I use the Gamekeeper’s blood? I ran to Matthew.

He was already slashing his arm. “True-hearted,” he whispered. “For now.”

I drew my forefinger across his wound, then hurried to Aric.

“Don’t you feckin’ do it, Empress!” Before I could reach Death, Joules fired again.

Aric deflected, his voice booming in the night: “I begin to tire of this, Tower.”

“Aric, let me paint your hand!”

He sheathed his sword and dismounted with that eerie grace. Spurs ringing, he strode to me and removed one spiked gauntlet.

“Nooo!” Joules yelled.

I drew a red line across Aric’s icons.

At the touch, he shuddered with bliss, lids gone heavy, eyes ablaze.

“Get away!” Jack had broken free from Gabriel, was fearlessly charging for Aric. Jack’s bravery was like a living thing inside him—always wanting to be freed.

“Stop!” I rushed to head him off, but he shoved me behind his back, standing up to Aric. The two were about the same height, gazes locked.

“You can’t fight Death,” I cried. “He’s part of the trues.”

“I’m not Arcana,” Jack bit out.

“Drunk and no sword?” Aric sneered. “This isn’t even sporting.” Jack tensed, all his muscles swelling. Because he was about to attack. He smiled a chilling smile. I’d seen it before. An animal baring its teeth. He was about to launch himself at Death, his anvil-like fists swinging.

“Jack, you can’t hit him! You can’t touch his skin and survive! The only reason he’s facing you with no helmet is to bait you.” I turned to Aric. “If you hurt him, you will pay!”

He donned his gauntlet. “I have no intention of aggressing anyone here, love. I arrive on a simple errand, now that you’ve completed yours.”

“Errand?”

In a casual tone, he said, “I’ve come to take my wife home.”

19

Jack’s head jerked back as if he’d been struck with a sledgehammer.

A guttural bellow erupted from his chest. He swung for Death.

I screamed, but Aric blocked the hit with his armored wrist.

The knight stared into Jack’s eyes. “I always recognize a death wish. Do you want to die, mortal? I can oblige you.”

Death wish? “Stop this!” I tried to get between them. “You can’t touch him!”

Jack’s bruised face was red with rage. “Might be worth it just to knock that snide look off your face!”

“The Empress is right. One touch is all it takes. Well, at least for everyone but her.” He gazed down at me. “As was meant to be, sieva.” He seemed amused by all this, as if he’d just arrived at festivities.

In a blur, Jack’s hand shot up, a pistol pointed at Aric’s head.

My chest contracted, lungs robbed of air.

Aric had accelerated healing, but even he wouldn’t survive a bullet to the brain. If anything happened to him . . . Now that I knew he hadn’t come here to hurt me, confusing feelings overwhelmed me.

Panic, that sense of protectiveness, an ache in my heart—

Jack cocked the weapon, pressing the barrel against Aric’s forehead. “One reason.”

While I struggled to breathe, Aric’s gaze reluctantly moved from me to Jack. And still, Death looked amused. “Because she’ll never forgive you for it.”

“Take him out, hunter!” Joules yelled. “Pull the bloody trigger!”

I laid my hand on Jack’s arm. “Put down the gun.” Nothing. “If you do this, we can never come back from it.”

On the razor’s edge, he turned to me. “What the hell is he talking about? Wife? WIFE?”

“It’s complicated,” I repeated.

That muscle ticked in his jaw. “I can goddamn keep up, Evangeline!”

“I will explain everything to you, if you come with me back to the tent.” If Jack shot Aric, they would both be dead to me. Tears pricked my eyes. “P-please, I’m asking you to do this for me.”

“You expect me to let him loose in my camp? Do you give a damn that he wants to kill me?”

“He won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

I gazed at Aric as I said, “If he hurts you in any way, he knows I will never stop hating him.” Back to Jack. “Please. Talk to me—away from here.”

He must’ve heard the dread in my voice. Finally, he uncocked the gun, lowering it. He cast Aric a murderous look, then stormed away. I followed, glaring at the knight over my shoulder.

He gave me a gallant bow, self-satisfied smile in place. He knew his strike had already found its target.

“What the fuck?” Jack paced the tent, hitting that flask like nobody’s business. He could barely look at me, hadn’t managed more than cursing.

“I told you that Death and I had a history.” With shaking hands, I pulled the tent flap aside, peeking out.

Aric was cooling down Thanatos, his creepy white stallion. The red-eyed beast looked like a cross between an Arabian—and a tank. It even had its own black armor.

Cyclops snacked nearby. Crunch. Crunch.

From a distance, the other Arcana gawked at Death—Tess especially seemed entranced by his divine good looks—but their attention didn’t appear to disturb him in the least.