Lord of Shadows (The Dark Artifices #2)(183)

Kieran paled even further. "Mannan's Seven? Sent them where?"

"Here. To the mundane world. They are tasked to retrieve the Black Volume, now that the death of Malcolm Fade is known. They will find it, and before you do."

"The Black Volume is nothing to do with me," said Kieran.

"But it is to do with our father," said Adaon. "He has wanted it since the First Heir was stolen."

"Longer than he has hated the Nephilim?" Kieran said.

Erec spat. "Those Nephilim you love so. They are a doomed race. You are wasting yourself, Kieran, when you could be much more."

"Let him be, Erec," Adaon said. "What do you imagine Father would do if Kieran came home, besides kill him?"

"If Father was still alive to kill anyone."

"Enough scheming!" roared Adaon. "Enough, Erec!"

"Then let him prove he's loyal!" Erec removed the knife from Cristina's throat with a sudden gesture; she spluttered and coughed. Her wrist was searing pain and Erec's hands were iron bands around her upper arms. He shoved her forward, toward his brothers, without releasing his grip. "Kill the Shadowhunter," he shouted at Kieran. "Adaon, give him your blade. Run it through her heart, Kieran. Show you are loyal and I will intercede for you with Father. You can be welcomed back at Court instead of killed or exiled to the Hunt."

Adaon put his hand to his side, to sieze his sword, but Kieran had already seized it. Cristina struggled, kicking out, but she couldn't dislodge Erec's grip. Terror rose up in her as Kieran came toward them both, the faerie sword glimmering in his hand, his eyes flat as mirrors.



       
         
       
        

Cristina began to pray. Angel, keep me safe. Raziel, help me. She kept her eyes open. She wouldn't close them. That was a coward's way to die. If the Angel wanted her to die now, she'd die on her feet with her eyes open like Jonathan Shadowhunter. She would-

Kieran's eyes flickered, minutely, his head tilting. She followed the movement, suddenly understanding, as he lifted the sword in his hand. He swung it forward-and she ducked her head.

The sword sliced through the air cleanly above her. Something hot and wet and copper-smelling spilled across her back. She cried out, pivoting away as Erec's arms released her, his throat severed to the spine, his body crumpling to the pebbled path.

"Kieran," Adaon breathed in horror. Kieran stood over Erec's body, the blood-smeared sword in his hand. "What have you done?"

"He would have killed her," Kieran said. "And she is my-and Mark-"

Cristina caught at the fountain to hold herself up. Her legs felt numb. The pain in her arm was fire.

Adaon strode forward and snatched the sword from Kieran's hand. "Iarlath was not your blood," he said. His skin looked tight with shock. "But Erec was. You will be denounced a kin-slayer if anyone discovers what you have done."

Kieran raised his head. His eyes burned into his brother's. "Will you tell them?"

Adaon jerked the hood up over his face. Wind had begun to blow through the square-a cold, sharp squall of it. Adaon's cloak flapped like wings. "Go, Kieran. Seek the safety of the Institute."

Adaon bent over Erec's body. It was twisted at a violent angle, blood running among the pebbles and grass. As he knelt, Kieran started to walk out of the park-and stopped.

Slowly, he turned back and looked at Cristina. "Aren't you coming?"

"Yes." She was surprised at the steadiness of her own voice, but her body betrayed her-when she stood upright, agony shot through her arm, down into her side, and she doubled over, gasping.

A moment later there were hands on her, none too gentle, and she felt herself lifted off the ground. She started in surprise-Kieran had picked her up and was carrying her from the park.

She let her arms dangle, not knowing what else to do. She was speechless. Despite the dancing the night before, it was bizarre to be held by Kieran like this. Mark had been there, then-and now they were alone.

"Do not be foolish," said Kieran. "Put your arms around me. I do not want to drop you and then have to explain matters to Mark."

He would have killed her. And she is my-and Mark-

She wondered what he'd meant to say. Mark would have been angry? Mark would have been disappointed? She is my friend? 

No, he couldn't have meant that. Kieran didn't like her. She was sure of it. And maybe that hadn't been what he'd said at all. Her memories were becoming blurred with pain.

They were passing down a street whose lights seemed to change from gas to electric as they went. Illumination blinked on in windows overhead. Cristina raised her arms and put them around Kieran's neck. She laced her fingers together, biting her lip against the pain of the binding spell.