Leaving Constance and Fiona to get the ball rolling on their end, he carried Clarissa upstairs to her room and settled her on the bed before climbing in beside her. He tenderly smoothed the hair from her face and kissed her lips. They were warm, and he could feel the soft, even flow of her breaths. Looking at her, it was so easy to believe she was merely sleeping and would wake with the merest nudge.
He knew that wasn’t the case though. From the moment she’d collapsed, he’d tried endless times to stir her. Stretching onto his side, he bundled her close to him, nestling her cheek against his drumming heart. If there was any light left in his world, she would hear the desperate beat of his pulse calling her home.
“Sweet Clarissa.”
She opened her eyes, the seductive singsong voice echoing around her. Twinkling pinpoints of light glimmered overhead. They winked briefly before shooting away. She pushed up from the patch of parched earth she’d been curled upon and glanced about. A foreign landscape stretched as far as she could see, bathed in a strange sort of twilight.
What was this place?
The inky outline of an enormous tree drew her attention. It seemed to be the only living thing on the horizon. She set off to investigate. As she drew closer, it became clear that even the tree had been stripped of life. She traced the deep grooves in the dried husk of its trunk, the utter silence of the oak’s spirit creating a deep well of sadness within her.
“Alas, not all things can thrive here,” a sibilant voice whispered.
She spun, her gaze meeting Envy’s. The creature’s eyes were darker than usual, seeming to recede into the twilight. Her focus returned to the barrenness surrounding them. “You brought me here to die.”
“No. Back there, you are dying. But here? Here you will be eternal.”
The sinister stillness of their vacuum-like void made Envy’s voice inordinately loud. She was suddenly acutely aware that they were the only ones standing on this desolate plain. “Where are the others?”
“Keeping the home fires burning, so to speak.”
She was instantly reminded of the oily lake of fire, and shivered. “You’re torturing all those innocent souls. Stripping them to the bone, just like this tree.”
“Sweet Clarissa, the revulsion in your voice wounds me. Those so-called innocent souls you speak of are getting no less than what they deserve. What they’ve sought from the very beginning of their useless, pathetic existence.”
“Will that be my fate as well? Burning for my sins?”
“No. You are special. I will keep you at my side for as long as I wish it.”
And once you no longer wish it? The unspoken question elicited an icy sluice of fear. She shook off the sensation, determined not to let it get the best of her. The creature’s twisted logic regarding those condemned souls brought her determination to defeat Seven back to the forefront.
She would kill this monster, even if it took the complete destruction of her soul to do it.
The odd assembly of lights she’d noticed earlier returned, glowing with a bright intensity that beckoned. Transfixed, she reached toward the sky. An angry hiss came from Envy, and the creature snatched her hand. “It’s time for us to leave, sweet Clarissa.”
Giving the sky one last glance, she allowed Envy to tug her away from those comforting lights.
Chapter Twenty-One
Fiona knocked on the doorframe before entering Clarissa’s bedroom. She plunked a plate of sandwiches on the dresser, her expression stern. “You haven’t eaten in twenty-four hours. Starving yourself won’t help her.”
He eyed the food, his stomach growling. Truthfully, he hadn’t given much thought to anything beyond Clarissa. But Fiona was right. Going this long without sustenance was unnatural—and dangerous for a shifter whose metabolism required more protein and energy than most. Reluctantly leaving Clarissa’s side, he strode to the dresser and picked up the roast beef sandwich, gobbling it down without really registering its taste. From the moment Clarissa had been taken from him, life had stopped consisting of flavors or anything else that’d once brought him pleasure and happiness.
“A few of the guild members are heading over. They’ve located a woman who has some background in soul retrieval.”
Her announcement managed to cut through the gloomy fog of his inner turmoil. Fiona must have caught the spark of hope in his eyes because she rolled her lips tight before gusting a heavy breath. “She pretty much verified Constance’s concerns. If this creature has too great a hold on Clarissa, there might be no bringing her back.”
He refused to remotely acknowledge the possibility. “She’s tougher than that son of a bitch. And she has us on her side. She’s comin’ back.”
Fiona nodded, her attention drifting to Clarissa’s unconscious form again. Dark circles of fatigue ringed the younger witch’s eyes. Like him, she probably hadn’t slept much in the past twenty-four hours. “I should have hounded her more when she first brought up me taking over as mistress. Maybe then this wouldn’t have…” She swallowed, her eyes slowly filling.
He knew how torturous those what-ifs floating around in her head could be. He had no soothing platitudes to ease her doubts, or the awful, queasy guilt that gnawed at his insides. Because the truth was he should have known there was more going on with Clarissa than her fear of being with him, allowing him into her heart. But he’d been so selfishly afraid of losing her, he’d deliberately blinded himself to the possibility of a bigger picture, never realizing that she hadn’t just been certain they didn’t have a future together, but that she believed she didn’t possess one at all.
Fiona started to turn toward the doorway, only to stop and sweep him with an assessing look, her pale eyebrows lifting. “Just a suggestion, but you might want to at least put some pants on before the guild gets here. You know what a prude Domino can be.”
She left and he grabbed his bundle of clothing from the floor before crossing to the bathroom. By the time he’d finished showering, Domino and Willa had shown up with a short, stocky woman draped from neck to toe in a DayGlo orange caftan. A matching scarf was wrapped around her head turban-style. Introducing herself as Mama Heloise, the woman strode to the bed and placed one of her plump hands on Clarissa’s torso. Meanwhile, Willa hovered at the bedside, her face whiter than the sheet tucked over Clarissa’s motionless body.
The woman’s collection of bangles clanged musically as she yanked her hand away. “Whatever juju this creature possesses is strong and nasty. Even from here I feel its wickedness.”
Her pronouncement wasn’t news to him. All he cared about was killing the motherfucking thing and getting Clarissa back safe and sound in his arms.
“This thing, it is not going to give up its claim without a battle.” Mama Heloise shook her head sadly. “There is nothing to be done for this child.”
He snarled, backing the woman against the corner bedpost. Dimly, he heard the admonishing shouts from the others but paid them no heed. Clucking her tongue, Mama Heloise dug in her pocket and lifted something to her mouth. A second later shrill screeching filled his ears. He howled in agony, stumbling back. The noise blessedly stopped, and he glared at the woman as she jiggled the dog whistle in his face before re-pocketing the obnoxious device. She hurled a string of Cajun profanities at him, shaking her fist. “Mind your teeth, wolf. My bark can be a million times worse than your bite.”