The Heart's Ashes
Page 142

“I don’t care what you’ve been told to do!” Eric yelled. “I want it to stop. Now! At least give her a break before you hurt her anymore.”
My muscles shook all over with the unsteady heaving in my intestines. I breathed out, soft, queasy murmurs, until suddenly, the burning reached the back of my throat and projected—rising into the air a little, then stinging my nostrils as it flooded through them—back down my throat. I tried to turn my head, but heaved again as more vomit erupted out through my teeth.
Long fingers pressed the base of my neck and tilted my head upward as another wave of nausea forced a vehement blast of blood from my lips—this time over my shoulder and arm.
It’s not stopping. Make it stop. My head twisted, pulsing and pounding, the strain fissuring my temples with each heave.
“Shh.” Jason’s whisper came from above me. “Don’t drown yet, we’re not finished.”
Weeping disgracefully, humiliation burned my cheeks and I panted, suddenly able to breathe with the cloud of agony lifting from inside me and easing as my stomach twitched rapidly. Though my body continued to heave, nothing came out.
Jason rested my head back on the chair and moved away.
“Amara.” Eric bent down then stood up, wiping soft lace over my face; attempting to blot away the sticky red. He folded the cloth several times, merely smearing the blood around my cheek and chin. “I’m so sorry, Amara. I’m so sorry.” He shook his head, repeating his apology over and over.
“I want to die,” I moaned faintly. “Just please—please just let it be over.”
“Okay.” Eric nodded, brushing my sticky, blood-clumped hair from my face, tearing a dried strand from the clutches of the cut on my lip. “I’ll make it stop. I’ll make him stop.”
“Not yet, you won’t.” Jason stepped between Eric and I, and, using the end of his sleeve, smeared a heap of blood from under my nose and around the corners of my mouth.
“Jason?” Eric closed his eyes, pinching the skin on his forehead. “She’s been through enough. Come on, man. Just put her out of her misery.”
“I can’t. I have orders.”
“This is different. She’s not from this world.” Eric pointed to me. “She’s not used to this kind of treatment.”
“Lieutenant?” A man came practically tumbling down the stairs.
“Shaun, what is it?” Jason turned to him; Eric stiffened, his hands clenching by his sides.
“The Blood King has ordered the accused be brought to justice.”
“What! Now?” Eric asked with a very foreign-sounding hint of panic in his tone.
“Yes. These are the wishes of the king.” The man bowed.
“Did he give reason for this change in plan?”
“Yes, sir. There is a rebellion occurring. The king held trial for the accused only moments ago and expects the execution to take place immediately.”
Execution? My execution?
“Advise the Council we will arrive within the minute.”
“As you will it.” Shaun bowed, then ran up the stairs.
Jason disappeared from sight and Eric stood above me again. “Almost over, Ara.”
The tight, skin-cutting clamp from my ankle released, and blood rushed back into my toes, chilling them first before a numb tingle tightened like pins around them.
Eric sliced the tip of his thumb with his teeth and wiped some of his own blood over my lips, shaking his head.
“Hey!” Jason grabbed Eric’s arm. “No blood.”
He dropped his hand and looked at me, mouthing the words, “I’m sorry.”
I nodded.
As Jason released my wrists from the clamps, I laid dead still, my hands and arms unreactive, hollow and weak. He looked right into my eyes, narrowing his. “It’s time for you to show my brother what you’re capable of.”
David? David’s here?
“Yes. You’re going to kill him.”
Shock sunk through my heart and caved my chest. “No!”
“Yes.” He lifted me from the sticky, bloody mess of the chair; the cold touch of air made the tepid moisture all over my back feel like slime. “When you’ve killed him, I will give you some peace before I hurt you again.”
My body jolted as he readjusted his arms around me, lifting me so my head rested on his shoulder, my legs over his forearm and my shoulder tucked neatly under the apex of his arm. All I could do was cry. I closed my eyes, wishing so hard that I could fight him. “Please don’t make me do it, Jason.”
“Stop talking.”
“Please. I know you don’t want to—I can feel it.” I hope.
“Sweet, Ara. Sees so much good in everyone.” He squeezed me tight, his lips against my face. “What if there’s not—what if I really am just as evil as everyone believes.”
“I don’t believe it,” I whispered.
Jason stiffened and his teeth crunched together in his mouth. “Well, what you believe doesn’t really count. I’ve proven myself a worthy servant to the king, and now, I will make you kill David.”
“No. I won’t do it.” I could feel the fight rising inside me.
“You will.”
“No!” The strength to survive suddenly rushed through my veins like cold ice. I thrashed about, kicking my arms and legs, wriggling to get free of his hold.
“Stop it.”
“No. Don’t, Jason, please don’t make me do this. I love him. I love him. Please?”
His unyielding grip prevailed as we walked into the dense, cold shadows of the corridor in the world of free air.
I’m out. I’m out of that room. If I can just get down... My hand shifted from his grip; I lashed out, scraping my nails across his face.
“Rah!” he roared, and the ground hit my spine with a breath-taking jolt before I realised he dropped me. My eyes flashed open to his face above mine; he grabbed my wrist. “If you do that again I’ll—”
“Let me carry her,” Eric offered, bending down.
“No,” Jason yelled and shoved a palm to Eric’s chest. “She stays with me.”
Eric’s eyes met mine as Jason hoisted me off the ground—over his shoulder.
“You’re hurting me,” I yelled, digging into his back with my fingernails. “Stop it! Let me down.”