Sacrifice (10 page)

Skybright

Skybright began to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand, but Stone crouched in one blurred motion and gave her a damp handkerchief, scented with mint. She snatched it from him without a thank-you. The smell of the mint helped to settle her a little. He offered her a hand but she refused to take it, instead pushing herself unsteadily off the cold cobblestones.

“I will never do that again,” she choked out. “I don’t care how much you threaten to harm others if I don’t obey. If you take such pleasure in killing mortals, do as you please.”

“But Opal—”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not my mother?” She put on the soft tunic that he gave her, hating that she couldn’t even choose her own clothing. Stone dressed her as if she were an expensive doll. “Why are you so thickheaded?” she snapped as she pulled on the silk paneled dress. He seemed to be able to alter her attire if she were already clothed but could not simply manifest clothes onto her body if she were naked. For that simple thing, she was grateful. If she chose to, she could remain nude—a ridiculous notion—but it offered a sense of control, no matter how slim.

“He is not dead.”

“What?” Skybright whipped toward the inert man at their feet. She had been so sickened and horrified by what she had done, her keen senses hadn’t registered that the man was still breathing.

Stone nudged her victim with his boot. “So badly frightened that he fainted. Lack of air from the powerful squeeze of your serpent coils helped, but you did not hold on long enough to kill him.”

The man twitched even as Stone was speaking, and she almost fell onto her knees in the narrow alley again from relief.

“You know he does not deserve to live, Skybright. What sins did you see weighing on his soul?”

Murder. Theft. Envy. He coveted. But he also felt despair and regret.

“Perhaps not,” she whispered. “But it is not for me to decide who lives and dies.”

“Then your gift is wasted,” Stone said.

“I did not choose my gift. And people can change. They can redeem themselves.”

Stone straightened, drawing to his full height. She always felt dwarfed beside him when she was in mortal form. He still smelled of rich earth and ancient forest, and she welcomed it over the dank, stagnant odor that surrounded them. The walls seemed to press in, looming.

“Redemption isn’t for every mortal,” Stone said. “Some souls become so twisted there is no unraveling it. They are compelled to do wrong, to hurt and kill over and over again without remorse. There is no way to change them. They do not want changing. Their spirits cannot be cleansed.” His dark gaze flicked over to the crumpled man at their feet. “You’ve been attached to the mortal world for too long—mired with their mores and sensibilities. You have to understand the valuelessness of human lives. They are replaceable. Life chews them up, they get spat in the underworld to pay their dues, then they come back again. Not always wiser.”

“You think the worst of mortals. But for every shadowed soul I saw, there was one that glowed brightly. The human spirit is resilient. It’s strong.” Skybright felt a fervor at her core, a hotness that expanded as she spoke on, careless of what Stone thought. “You say you took me under your wing because of Opal, that you are drawn to me because I am her daughter—but the qualities you admire most in me are
human
. You think so little of mortals, say how controlled they are by their emotions, how short sighted and meaningless their lives are, yet you are drawn to me for those reasons. Mortals may not live as long as the gods, but they feel deeply. They
care
.”

Stone’s smile was faint but unmistakable. “Perhaps you are right. You are observant.”

“I’ve had to be all my life.” She drew a shaky breath, aware how quickly her heart was thumping. “I will never do that again, Stone. You can kill me if you have to, but I refuse to be a murderer.” Stone could take her life at any moment, but she would not let fear stay her words any longer. He had wanted a prisoner—a plaything to keep him company. Instead, he would have one who expressed her opinions.

Stone’s dark eyebrows lifted for an instant. “I would never hurt you, Skybright. I did not agree to this pact to deliberately cause you pain. It is important that you learn about your demonic half—about the world beyond the mortal realm. If you wish not to kill bad men, I will not force you to do so again.”

She stared at him, shocked. He had said something similar immediately after kidnapping her. But now, she almost believed him.

“Let us leave this place.” He paused and answered her question before she asked it, “He will be all right. He will suffer a headache and will never follow beautiful women down dark alleys again.”

He reached for her hand first, then created another portal for them to step through. “I have been summoned.”

Skybright wondered who could summon Stone’s presence but stepped through the rent before she could ask. She was only too glad to leave this damp, claustrophobic place and the unconscious man behind.

Zhen Ni

Zhen Ni’s bridegroom, Master Bei, was a large man.

Head bowed, she had been sneaking glances through the red haze of her silk veil for what felt like an eternity. But she could gauge nothing except that he towered over her (and she was tall for a woman), and that his feet appeared extraordinarily small—almost misshapen—for a man his size. Rose had wrapped the breast binder around Zhen Ni tightly before she had dressed her in her bridal clothes, a ritual that would be repeated each morning after her wedding. Zhen Ni couldn’t seem to draw a full breath, and feeling faint, she resisted the urge to rip the heavy, oppressive layers off and run home to Yuan manor. She took a step back when Master Bei raised her veil, so she finally had a clear view of him.

He smiled, a closed-mouthed smile that was awkward and strange, as if it was something he had never done before. Her groom was not a handsome man. His features were coarse, too blunt: his broad nose was crooked at the bridge, his large eyes set too far apart and protruding, the eyebrows thick and unkempt. He had two large lumps on either side of his high forehead, as if he had run into the corner of a pillar, twice. Had he, she wondered?

Dear goddess, what would their children look like?

And what, Zhen Ni couldn’t help thinking, was in store for her on her wedding night?

As it was, after the enthusiastic and drunken crowds had sung their lewd songs, recited their couplets, and shared their bawdy innuendos at the end of the banquet, Master Bei, her new husband, had left her alone in their grand marriage bed without speaking a word. She lay with the coverlet clutched to her chest, still clothed, as it was his right to undress her on their wedding night. Her hairpins dug into her scalp, and her jade earrings felt too heavy in her lobes.

Two lotus-shaped lanterns burned on either side of the bed, emitting a soft glow in the giant bedchamber. The marriage bed was draped in gold and red silks, casting the room in warm tones. She knew the effect was meant to be romantic, but it was all wasted on her. She felt no stirrings of love or desire—only anxiety overlaying a gnawing fear. She felt completely alone in the newly built Bei manor in her hometown of Chang He. For that, she was grateful and fortunate. Most daughters married and were sent away to the groom’s family to live in their estates, often several provinces away. The likelihood of visiting your own family was once a year—at best.

But Master Bei was an orphan. A very wealthy orphan who had no ties elsewhere. The sprawling estate now bested her family’s Yuan manor as the most opulent in town. It took three months to build, and it wasn’t until the main hall within the largest courtyard was constructed that Master Bei introduced himself to the Yuan family, and much to Lady Yuan’s delight, asked to be betrothed to Zhen Ni.

Her new home still smelled of fresh wood and lacquer. The smallest noise echoed loudly without the usual sounds and rituals of a large family and their servants readying for bed or preparing to run a full household for the next day. Zhen Ni had brought Rose and Oriole to tend to her. They were sequestered away in some other corner of the manor and would not come for her until late the next morning most likely. Her mother had also given Cook’s assistant, Pei, to her as a wedding gift, but the rest of the staff Zhen Ni would have to begin hiring on her own.

If Skybright had been here, she would have known how to ease Zhen Ni’s distress. She would have noted when Master Bei left her mistress alone on her wedding night and would have sneaked in with Zhen Ni’s favorite treats and games to comfort and keep her company. But Skybright was not here—was gone forever. Instead of the capable, quiet girl she remembered, the one she had grown up with, an image of Skybright dressed like a rich courtesan flashed in Zhen Ni’s mind, followed by the thick ruby coils of Skybright’s serpent body, squeezing the life from her victim with slow deliberation. Her scalp tingled to remember that awful, terrifying scene.

She was utterly alone in this world now. No one could save her from this. Her first love, Lan, had been forced to marry, to obey and give as a dutiful daughter.

Now it was her turn.

She breathed quietly, trying to make no sound. This must be what it felt like for a hare to burrow deep into its nest, knowing that a fox waited quietly at its entrance to devour it. Her husband was fetching wine for them. Or perhaps he was guzzling a virility elixir like the kind that Nanny Bai used to concoct for her own father. Her hands were damp, and she rubbed her palms against the cool brocade of the coverlet, straining her ears at the same time to anticipate her husband’s return. Her mind stuttered over the word
husband
. The waiting felt almost worse than the doing. She just wanted to get it over with.

Zhen Ni knew what men looked like down there.
The Book of Making
was quite explicit in its illustrations. She couldn’t help wrinkling her nose with distaste every time she had pored over those drawings in their various states and angles. So different from the soft curves of a woman’s body. She remembered gliding her palm across Lan’s inner thigh, her skin smooth and scented, the swell of Lan’s breasts under her mouth. So unlike the hard shapes of a man’s body. And the notion that Master Bei—she didn’t even know his given name—might have an organ that matched his blunt looks and burly physique made her ill.

“Wife.”

She jerked so hard in fright that she literally jumped in the bed. How had she not heard him return to the bedchamber? Had she been so lost in thought?

“I wanted to bid you a good evening.” He had a gruff, low voice, much like his looks.

The gilded lanterns had burned low while she waited for his return, so he was merely a hulking shadow in the doorway, but she thought she saw the gleam of his eyes. Sitting up and pressing the brocade coverlet against her, as if for protection, she asked, “You will not be … joining me tonight, Husband?” Her words sounded small in the vast bedchamber. Every bridal ritual she had endured was in preparation for this moment. Besides the breast binder, she had been bathed, scented, and dusted with gold powder, all in an effort to please her groom. She was a gift to be unwrapped. Her stomach cramped at the thought, and Zhen Ni swallowed the sour taste in her mouth.

Master Bei loped toward the bed in a manner that was utterly predatory. She twisted the coverlet in her fingers, wondering why she had asked. Wondered if she had it in her to shame her family again and run away from her duties as a daughter—her duties as a new wife.

He stood at the side of the bed, studying her, as if the chamber were brightly lit instead of cast in flickering shadows. She had to tilt her head back to look into his face. He had changed out of his elaborate groom outfit into a tunic and trousers. The belt had been tied haphazardly, so that the tunic wasn’t pulled close and exposed part of his muscular chest, thick with wiry hair.

She swallowed hard and tried not to cower from him.

“No. You will forgive me if I do not join you?”