Macabre Melody: Book 7 in the Spellsinger Series Read online

  I woke up hours later; the sun just starting to streak in through the bedroom window. I didn't remember going to bed, and I was still in my clothes.

  “Cerberus,” I grumbled, “you couldn't even pull off my jeans?”

  It's not as if he'd never seen me in my underwear. But sometimes the big guy got embarrassed about stuff like that. Usually when no one was watching. In front of an audience, he would have toughed it out. Alone, he got squidgy.

  Then I realized what had woken me.

  “Cerberus!” I shouted as I slipped my feet into my boots.

  I ran toward the front door, and he was beside me in seconds. My grim look was all he needed. We grabbed our coats on the way out. Fred hurried after us, but I shouted for him to stay in the village and guard the others. I didn't look back to see if he listened; I just ran. There was no way I was going to let this murdering bastard get any closer than he already was.

  I stumbled in an awkward run down the mountain; my boots slipping in the wet forest debris. My breath misted around me and my cloak flapped backward. I'd forgotten my gloves and my hands were already going numb. But it all faded when I saw her.

  I nearly tripped. A little Sasq'et girl sat on a pale pink blanket. She'd made a crown of tiny purple flowers and was fastening it to her head; sticking it down into her amber fur. Adorable. Fear tore through me. Dawn's light spotted her through the canopy of leaves; turning her into a calico. She looked up in surprise when we came crashing down to her; her blue eyes going wide.

  “What are you doing out here?” I screeched at her.

  Those beautiful eyes filled with tears. “I just wanted to get them before the snow came.” She held up a few more blossoms. “It would have killed them.”

  I didn't have the heart to point out that she had killed them faster than the snow.

  “Get her somewhere safe, Cer!” I put myself in front of the girl; my arms out and my eyes searching the forest.

  But then I remembered the sensation of flight. I set my stare on the sky instead; going over possible songs to use as I did. Cerberus already had the girl over his shoulder and was sprinting back toward the village; his heavy footsteps vibrating the earth. I stood my ground. I knew that my boundary had been crossed just fifty feet in front of me.

  Of course, if they were flying...

  The girl's scream sliced the breath in my throat. I jerked my gaze away from the sky and searched for Cerberus. He was gone. I gaped at the empty mountainside. No; it wasn't possible. He had just been there; all two-hundred-eighty pounds of him. There was no way someone had carted Cerberus off that fast, even if they could restrain him, to begin with. He wasn't in the village either; the ward had stayed down for us, and I had a clear view of the gate. There were Sasq'ets standing in the open arch; shouting and pointing up. Some of them started to run down the mountain.

  “Cerberus!” I shouted as I followed their hands upward.

  The sky through the canopy was an icy blue. Completely empty of clouds and hellhounds.

  “Cer! Where are you?”

  A sting in my arm distracted me. Like a bee. I started to brush at my shoulder, but my arm barely made it up an inch before my vision swam and darkness took me.

  Chapter Six

  “Up, up, up!” Someone shouted.

  The clang of metal jolted me awake.

  I bolted up; my arms shooting out defensively.

  “Excellent! Keep up those reflexes!” A man's voice came at me through a barred window.

  I frowned as I took a quick glance around. I was in a stone cell, on a steel bunk with a mattress that was little more than a piece of crumbling memory foam. A toilet and a sink were in the corner. A threadbare blanket folded at the foot of the bed. My cloak was gone but the rest of my clothes were still on me. I jumped off the bed and went to the window.

  “Buddy, you have five seconds to let me out of here,” I growled.

  The man broke into a delighted grin. “Oh, you're fucking perfect.”

  “I'll show you how perfect I am,” I snapped.

  Kyanite?

  I frowned. My stare wavered.

  Kyanite?!

  He was gone. I reached for my magic; just a little touch before we began blasting this asshole to bits. It wasn't there either. I went deeper. Deeper still. There was nothing but an aching emptiness inside me.

  “What the fuck?” I whispered.

  “See that new piece of jewelry you got there?” The man pointed at my neck.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. He wasn't bad looking; strong jaw, gray eyes, clear skin, blond hair. Attractive enough. But his cockiness was grating on my nerves.

  “Check out the collar,” the man insisted. “Although you're kind of turning me on with your death glare, I have to admit.”

  I could already feel the cool metal around my throat. I didn't have to look at it. Not that I could have anyway; as I mentioned, it was on my throat. I don't know why this idiot was telling me to check it out. There was one of those polished, steel mirrors over the sink, but I wasn't about to run over there and gawk at myself like a princess who'd been given a present. What was far more important than my new necklace was the one that wasn't there; the one that held my contact charm and my traveling stone. Fuck. No magic and no way out.

  “What about the collar?” I asked with deadly calm.

  “Cutting technology that,” he said. “Beneather technology; you catch? It absorbs your magic, and if you try to fuck with it—if you try to pry it off or break it—it will send a jolt of electricity through you that will knock you on your ass. What are you anyway? You must be something special if you think you can walk right out of a cell.”

  I ignored him and reached for my magic again. When that didn't work, I tried to throw my voice. My spellsinging didn't need to use my vocal cords anymore. But nothing came. I lifted my furious stare to the man outside my window and launched myself at him.

  He jerked back with a laugh as I pounded the metal with my fists. “The boss is going to love you. Stay vicious, little girl. Stay vicious. It just may keep you breathing.”

  He walked away and continued his ruthless banging on other cell doors. I angled my head to watch him stride down a long passage lined with them. What the fuck?

  “El!” Cerberus shouted.

  He was directly across from me; his handsome mug glaring at me through a barred window that was just like mine.

  “Are you all right?” Cer asked me.

  “Yeah; where the fuck are we?”

  “Shit if I know,” he growled. “I just woke up.”

  “They knocked you out too?” I was shocked. “What kind of tranquilizers do they have?”

  “Some as strong as these fucking collars,” he snapped.

  “Where's the girl?”

  Cerberus just shook his head.

  “They got her too?”

  He grimaced.

  “Fuck!” I slammed my fist into the bars again.

  “We have a volunteer!” The man was back. “All right, honey, if you insist, you can go first.”

  The blond came to my cell and unlocked my door. I started to smile.

  “Oh, look at you.” His smile was much sweeter than mine. “You're adorable. You think you're going to take me on with nothing but your hands. That's so cute.”

  He opened the door, and I was on him. I punched that lovely jaw, and his head snapped back. I followed with two in the gut, but when I went to knee him in the groin, his hand—as massive as Cer's—caught my knee and pushed it down.

  “Enough of that,” he said sternly; no hint of pain or exertion. “Don't make me zap you.”

  He held up a metal rod and a bright spark of electricity crackled over the end of it.

  “You hurt her and you die, fuckhead,” Cerberus said softly.

  Shit was bad when the Hound of Hades spoke softly.

  The guy in front of me laughed again. I admit; he was solid. Built like a Mack Truck. He looked as if he could take on Cer... in human form. Once Cer
berus shifted into a giant, three-headed hellhound, this guy would be kibble. Except Cer had one of those magic-draining collars on too. Shit.

  “Don't worry; you'll get your magic back when you need it,” the guy promised me. “All you have to do is direct that rage against your opponent. Win the fight, and your living conditions improve. Lose, and you won't need to worry about living at all.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked him.

  “No way,” Cerberus whispered.

  I looked over at my bestie for an answer.

  “You're a stoner, aren't you?” Cerberus accused the man.

  In the Beneath, a stoner is not a drug user. It's slang for someone who can manipulate stone. The most common stoners were gargoyles.

  The man smiled—revealing thick canines—and my jaw dropped. My mind raced over the events of the past day; what Cerberus had told me about the bodies. How they were skinned. How the Sasq'ets had been unable to find the murder scene. And how Cerberus, the girl, and I had been snatched up in three seconds flat. I remembered the white energy soaring into the sky and Cerberus' theory that the murderers had flown.

  “We were abducted by fucking Gargoyles?!” I shouted. “Are you kidding me?”

  The man grinned and gave me a head bow.

  “That means...” I didn't want to say it.

  “We're in a goddamn, motherfucking zone arena,” Cerberus finished. “Asshole, do you know who I am?”

  “Cerberus Skylos,” the man said over his shoulder. “Hound of Hades.”

  “Ex-hound, but yeah,” Cerberus said in surprise. “All right then.”

  “All right then?” I gaped at Cer.

  “What do you want me to say, El? If he knows who I am, then he's prepared to deal with me. Ergo, they have some serious shit in place to keep me in place. I'm not an idiot.”

  “Debatable,” I muttered. “Although, your use of the word 'ergo' was a nice touch.”

  The man—excuse me, the gargoyle—chuckled. “You two are funny. Best friends, right? Not lovers?”

  Cerberus and I both made grossed-out noises at the same time, and the gargoyle nearly burst a seam laughing so hard. His T-shirt was already straining under the pressure of his muscles; I was surprised it held.

  The seriousness of our position suddenly hit me. We were in a Beneather Zone; an underground city run by Gargoyles. Every zone had a different zone lord and laws unique to its lord, but all of the zones were run and enforced brutally. You didn't go into a zone and make trouble; not if you wanted to live. That being said; zones were considered to be the safest places for Beneathers to go and let it all hang out. They could be themselves and even socialize with the most dangerous of our kind without fear. That is unless you somehow wound up in an arena.

  Zone arenas were the supernatural equivalent of the Roman Colosseum. Most of the competitors signed up for the fights willingly; some to show off and some for the spoils. The winner of every match got a percentage of the bets placed on them, and they also got to loot the body of the loser. Some arenas employed agents (mercenaries) to enlist fighters; not always willingly. I was betting that this was where the sasq'ets had died.

  I stared at Cerberus, and he stared back grimly. He'd already reached that conclusion.

  “Come on, honey,” the gargoyle waved me on with his electric wand. “It's time for you to see the arena.”

  “No mercy, El,” Cerberus said fiercely. “This isn't the place for it; no matter who they put you against. These fights are to the death. You take them out like a pro. Just another job. You fucking understand me?”

  I clenched my jaw. Fuck my life. I'd just recovered from being a brutal bitch. I really didn't want to revert back into one. I couldn't, right? Faenestra was gone; locked away in an orb of darkness. But severing a soul wasn't an exact science. I'd proven that when I'd left Darc with some of his water magic. What if there was enough of Faenestra left inside me to turn me evil again?

  I shivered.

  The gargoyle led me through the hall of cells and all sorts of beneathers stared back at me through the windows. I stopped abruptly when I saw the sasq'et girl. She was just tall enough to see out the window and her eyes were full of tears.

  “Keep moving, sweet ass.”

  “She's just a child!” I pointed at the girl. “What kind of monsters are you?”

  “Gargoyles,” he said slowly.

  “You hurt her and—” I shook my head menacingly.

  “And what?” He laughed again.

  Oh, this guy was going to laugh himself right into his grave. And I was going to put him there. I'd tear that gold hoop right out of his ear as I did it. Maybe I'd wear it as a trophy. What was good for the goose was good for the gander.

  “And when I get free of this collar, I will crush you into gargoyle pudding.” I turned on my heel and started walking again.

  He kept laughing; making my back clench with rage.

  An arch loomed before me; solid gray stone without a seam. I could see a sandy expanse through the iron gate that covered the curved opening. As I approached, the gate lifted—rumbling and grating up into the rock—and the gargoyle prodded me through with the end of his stick. I stepped out into glaring light and squinted around me. The gate crashed down, and with it came a wave of magic. Above my head, a violet shimmer in the air revealed the presence of a ward. I was locked in from all sides; not even my magic could get out. Which was the point, I'm sure. Cer was right; they had some serious shit in place to keep us in place.

  The roar of a cheering crowd suddenly hit me, and I lifted my stare past the ward to the rings of seats going up hundreds of feet into the air. Despite the height of the enclosure, the cave's ceiling still loomed far above. As I mentioned, zones are underground. Gargoyles had made them; manipulating rock into whatever shape they desired. They were excellent architects; designing both the structures and the Zone itself with careful attention to detail. They had made sure to include both horizontal and vertical space. Not just to keep the air fresh and give a feeling of open sky, but also to give winged beneathers (such as themselves) the opportunity to soar. The Gargoyles controlled every zone entrance; sliding thick portions of mountain rock together to seal them whenever they felt the inclination. I've heard that it only takes them seconds to shifts tons of rock. Zones were the ultimate fortresses.

  Or, in my case, a tomb.

  I had been buried alive, and now I had to claw my way out of my grave. Except it wasn't just earth I needed to move, it was magically manipulated stone.

  At least it was a vibrant tomb. The beneather in me marveled at the collection of supernatural races on display above me. Suparnas (werefalcons) swooped overhead along with angels, harpies, and thunderbirds; feathers in all the colors of the rainbow brightening the sky. There was a suspicious lack of gargoyles up there, but I assumed that all the gargoyles of the zone had better things to do than fly around watching an arena match.

  I brought my gaze down to the seats. A troll squatted on a stone bench; pushing a large ape down to the end and nearly off it. The ape shifted into a dark-skinned, naked man and started cussing out the troll. A guard I assumed to be a gargoyle stepped up and stopped the fight with a wave of his electric wand. I slid my stare away and it widened. Gorgons were there in large numbers; wearing colorful scarves around their dangerous snake-locks. tikbalangs (horse-like creatures) crunched apples with their long teeth, and loups showed off their muscles to every pretty girl who passed. Satyrs, nymphs, oni, adlets, it went on and on. It was hard to focus on any single species. I had never seen so many different beneather races in one place.

  And all it took to get them together was a battle to the death. How sweet.

  My stare stuttered to a stop on a glassed-in viewing box; set lower than the other seats. It jutted out just above the arena ward; giving it the best view in the house. A man stood at the ceiling-to-floor windows; staring down at me. He wore an expensive suit and a pensive expression. A watch gleamed on one wrist. I co
uldn't see the color of his eyes from where I stood, but I knew they were focused on me intently; probably sizing up his latest acquisition. I had no doubt that I was looking at the Zone Lord.

  Power poured off him. Not magic, but power. I could see it even from this distance. It was in the way he stood; legs apart like a soldier and arms crossed like a king. It was in the way his rugged jaw lifted and the way his patrician nose sloped. Even his fucking cheekbones looked sharp enough to kill. I tore my gaze away from him and stretched my shoulders. The jackass with the jolt-rod said I'd get my magic back when I needed it. I assumed that meant for the fight. Well, I wasn't about to entertain anyone; I wasn't Russel Crowe. I'd make this short and sweet, and see how they liked that.

  Another gate opened on the opposite end of the arena. The audience got to its feet as one and shouted for the man who strode in. He was even more arrogant than the gargoyle in the glass box; walking with a swagger that set my teeth on edge. Obviously a crowd favorite, this guy worked his fans with shouted comments and flippant waves as he sauntered closer to me. He casually swung his club; grazing the sand with its spike tip. His cockiness and eagerness weren't surprising. He was a Laestrygonian; a giant cannibal. There was no doubt in my mind that he had come here to fight of his own free will. For pleasure.

  And they had put him up against me; a woman not even a third his size. Wow. Just wow. I guess my jailer had faith in me. I should be flattered.

  The Laestrygonian didn't need magic; he didn't even need that stupid club. There was nothing holding him back; no collar around his throat. And I still didn't have my magic. I started to sweat as I stood my ground; a bead of it going down my spine beneath the sweater. I blamed it on my warm clothes, but I knew they weren't entirely to blame. Were they going to turn this damn collar off anytime soon? Was I going to have to run around the massive arena like a helpless idiot? Scream like a fair maiden in distress? Not that I wouldn't do it; the running, not the screaming. I'm not too proud to run. Especially from a cannibal. Fuck; this bastard would probably start nibbling on me before I was dead.