Dead of Winter Page 82

Aric? What’s happening?

—The remaining carnates collapsed.—

Vincent’s dead. The Lovers are gone. Are you and Jack all right?

—We will be if we can find you. Are you safe?—

We’re okay. Just stuck in here.

—Help me find you.— I heard him yell, “Empress!”

You sound far away!

—And now?— He yelled, Jack joining him.

Closer.

While I waited for them to call out again, I went to the sink, hastily washing off the worst of the blood. Then I grabbed Selena’s clothes and a roll of paper towels, returning to her. “Let’s do a temporary bandage for your hand.” I couldn’t tell for sure, but I thought the nail had missed the bones. I folded paper towels, fashioning a wraparound covering. “Okay, time to get you dressed.”

“Wh-where’s J.D.?”

“He’s coming. He’s good. All the carnates dropped dead.”

She nodded, kept nodding. Still nodding as her face crumpled. “Evie, he branded me.” I didn’t know what rattled me the most in this room: Violet’s location or Selena’s reaction.

She needed to cry. But the tears had been trained out of her.

I grabbed her good hand. “We’re here. We’re going to get through this.”

I heard Aric’s yell. You’re getting closer.

“That’s not J.D.”

“Uh, let’s get your shirt on.” I helped her pull it on. “Boots, next.” Once I’d gotten her dressed, I said, “Hey, you should know, Aric is here with us. He’s the reason we were able to get to you.”

She jolted back. “Death?”

“He and Jack took on the carnates together. Baggers and slavers before them. They’ve been fighting side by side for days.”

Pounding footfalls sounded as they closed in. There’s a combination lock on the door. Can you break it down?

—What can’t I do to reach you, Empress?—

At the revelation that Death was here, Selena started looking spacey. “No, no, stay with me, girl! He’s not going to hurt you. He’s helped us every step of the way. They’re busting us free, okay?”

Seconds later, Aric’s armored boot pounded the metal door. And again.

Send in Jack first. Selena’s not good. You might freak her out even more.

Suddenly she loosed a scream that echoed off the walls. She was staring in horror at her hand, the uninjured one.

An icon was appearing, one that matched her brand. The Archer had been marked by the Lovers . . .

Twice.

40

Selena’s gaze remained fixed on that icon even when we heard the door give way.

“Evie?” Jack called. “Selena?”

“In here.”

He rushed inside, his gaze sweeping the area, showing no emotion at all the blood, the torture contraptions, Selena’s condition.

Not yet.

“Where’s the sister?”

“Look on his chest,” I said.

Jack frowned at Vincent, then squinted. “Is that . . .”

“Yep. Vincent absorbed his twin.”

“Mère de Dieu.” Collecting himself, he said, “It’s over, then. You two all right?”

“I think so.” Define “all right.”

“Any of that blood yours, Evie?”

I shook my head. “And you?” He had a shallow slice down his neck, and a deeper slash over his arm.

“I’m fine. How you doing, Selena?” A muscle ticked in his jaw as he surveyed the Archer. “Come on, fille, answer me.”

“J.D.?” Selena roused from her daze. “It’s you!”

“You’re goan to be okay. We’re taking you home.”

When Death entered, Selena scrambled back. “I-I can’t do this!”

“He woan hurt you,” Jack assured her, making both Aric and me do a double take. Going to one knee, Jack clasped her uninjured hand. “Trust me in this, cher.” His position looked romantic.

I flushed with guilt that my thoughts had gone there.

“You gotta get me out of here,” Selena pleaded. “I have to get out.”

He reached for her, lifting her against his chest, her long hair spilling over his arm. “We’re goan.”

I told him, “Death and I will do a search for survivors.”

With a nod, Jack carried Selena out of the room, murmuring soothing French words to her.

“And so the day is won, another card trumped.” Aric’s gaze roamed over me. “I’m surprised the Archer took their icon. Your witch didn’t want it?”

I shook my head. “Let’s search this place—then get out.” I wanted to stand in the rain, taking another car wash/shower.

“Of course.”

As Aric and I walked down that spray-painted hall, I said, “I remembered what I did to the Lovers in the past.” To those kids.

I’d wondered if Arcana turned evil because of nature or nurture. I’d debated if evil was innate in us or manufactured by chroniclers. What if we made each other evil? Perhaps we traded torments from one game to the next, spreading a contagion.

Like the plague.

I wrapped my arms around myself. “I never want to be like that again. It’s selfish, but I didn’t want that icon. Aric, I’m done killing. I am done.”

He shouldn’t look so troubled by that statement. “The game begins in earnest. You have to be prepared, sievā. There might come a time when your ruthlessness would be rewarded.”