The obsidian blades were like crystal meth to the Shadow Hunters, fueling their destructive urges, and that tendency was still there, buried within my soul. As my fingers closed around the hilt, a shiver of arousal ran through me, and I came up, laughing. Here was power—the power of the stone to bite and claw and suck the life out of my opponents. The power of the blade to sever through muscle and bone. The power to destroy, to rend and tear and maim.
“Taste this, you cunt.” I lunged toward her and sank the blade into her arm, twisting it as hard as I could. The joy as her blood began to pour escalated, and all I could think about was making her hurt, making her scream, feeling her bones break under my pressure.
Myst spun around, but she held on to Grieve. I let out a growl—he was turning blue, an unnatural blue, and I knew she was killing him. My only thought was to take her down, to save the man who was mine.
“You’re playing the wrong hand, Myst.” I jumped back, letting go of the blade. There was only one weapon I had strong enough to destroy her. As the fury took over, I closed my eyes, lowered my head, and then, I began to raise the winds.
Come to me, my winds; come to me, heart of the storm. Be part of me, sweep through me, take me in and devour me. Embrace me with your power. I give myself to you. Lift me up and carry me forth.
And then, two words: Gale Force.
With a howl, the winds stirred. And then they swept in, down on me. The noise was deafening as they caught me up, sweeping me aloft on a crest of air.
I rode the storm that swirled below me as it formed into a vortex. Hurricane. Tornado. Cyclone. Whatever the name, it swirled into the chamber, and anything not nailed down began to blow over the side. The mad joy of the winds began to overtake me. This power was stronger than any blade, any desire, any hope or fear or dream. I wanted to ride the storm into the open, to mow through the forests, to uproot trees, and to blow the roofs off the houses.
But first, there was Myst. And she met me play for play. She towered into the chamber, icicles shooting out like lightning bolts to crash against the ground. Grieve was still in her grasp, though she was holding him like a ragdoll now, but whether she was aware she still held him, I couldn’t tell.
“You are done. Your time is done. Your reign is done. It’s my time now, and I reclaim the long winter from you.” I threw a gust of wind barreling at her, and it struck her in the chest, knocking her back.
She shook it off, but it had hit, and hit hard. “Contrary. Oh daughter, you should never have returned.” And with her free hand, she shot what looked like a bolt of lightning at me, only it was forked ice, and it raced toward my heart.
I swept to the side and watched as it impacted against the wall, shattering as it did so, rocking the cavern.
“I will destroy you for good, and then I will take your land, and despoil everything you hold most precious, like I did your aunt Heather.”
That was all I needed to spur me on.
Caught in the pure joy of the storm, the power of the winds surged through my veins as I raged toward her, streaking like a twister, spinning madly as I fell on her. She was in my grasp as my winds shook her ice.
And then I had her throat between my hands. I called the storm to strengthen me, and began to spin, holding her by her neck. Her body stretched out as we whirled, our speed so dizzying that everything around us became a blur of motion. She let go of Grieve in order to claw at my hands, but I held fast, and my hatred and anger fueled my storm.
And then I let go, sending her flying, and she crashed into the wall. As she fell limply to the floor, I struggled to rein in the storm, but it had me in its grasp and wouldn’t let go. Caught by the heart of the wind, I fought for control, but my mind was slipping, and I phased in and out, unable to focus.
Then, below, I caught a glimpse of Myst crawling across the floor. Grieve was lying near the edge of the drop-off, and as she approached him, I suddenly realized she meant to push him over the edge.
“No! Grieve!” I fought with the storm, bucking the winds.
At that moment, a streak raced across the cavern floor. It was Lannan. He glanced up at me, then—with his golden hair glistening in the dim light—he pushed Grieve out of the way to safety. Myst managed to snare Lannan’s ankle, and, slowly, like a tree toppling, she yanked on his leg and he fell, landing half over the edge. He slowly slid forward, the only hold keeping him in the cavern that of Myst’s grasp.
“Lannan—no. Myst, stop this!” With one last push, I shrugged off the madness and dove, landing hard on the floor. I scrambled forward, ignoring the pain in my side, toward Myst. She was holding Lannan by one ankle as he dangled over the deep ravine.
“You love him, don’t you? You love this vampire as much as you love your Wounded King.” The words cackled out of her throat.
Then, before I could say or do anything, Lannan shifted, dragging Myst forward with him. Startled, she turned to see what he was doing, and before she could let go, he jerked again and they both plunged over the side, into the darkness below.
“Lannan . . . no, Lannan!” I crept forward, peering over the edge, but in the darkness I could see nothing. They were gone. As I turned, Check was staring at me, wounded but alive. He met my gaze and gave me a soft, sad smile.
I dragged myself over to the pedestal by the throne. Myst’s heartstone still glowed, though its light was fainter, and the beat, a pale sound. I pulled out my dagger and touched the edge of the stone plinth in which Myst’s heartstone was embedded.
Nothing happened so I took the chance. It was now or never, while she was weak. I began to pry the stone out of its bed, and after a moment, with a sucking sound, it popped free.
I wrapped my hand in my cloak, to cover my skin, and cautiously picked up the glowing stone. Here it was. Myst’s essence, trapped so long ago and so carefully hidden. I was holding the heart of terror, the heart of the unnatural winter. Ragnarök come to rule, in the form of a beautiful woman with cravings for power not destined to belong to her.
By destroying this stone, I would be destroying the woman who had once been my mother. I had loved her, and then I met Grieve, and that love turned to hatred. I had loved her, and she had turned on me. We had betrayed each other throughout time, until now. And it was time to end it. Time to break the cycle. Time to put to right all the damage that Geoffrey and Myst had engendered.
I looked up to find Grieve standing there, holding himself upright by the throne. Check struggled to his feet, and then, the others straggled in. The Snow Hag. Hunter. Fearless. Mort had survived. Lannan’s other vampires.
But the rest of our men were gone. Kaylin was gone, back to the Court of Dreams. And when this was done, Luna would be offered up on the plate of her own sacrifice. Lainule and Wrath had been forced to leave. We had lost Heather, Anadey, Rex, Leo. So many of the townspeople. All sacrificed to Myst’s thirst.
It felt like I should say something. This was a pivotal moment in our history. An enemy thousands of years old . . . And we had come to her end. But there were no words.
In silence, I placed the heartstone on the ground and raised my dagger.
Ulean, will this kill her? Will my dagger do the trick?
Oh, my dear Cicely, how can you still ask me questions? You are the Queen of Snow and Ice. Trust in your power. Trust in your intuition. Trust in yourself.
Thank you. Thank you for being with me. For staying till the end. You mean more to me than anyone.
I have your back. Till the day that you die, I will stay with you.
Lannan . . . is he dead? Do you know?