CONQUERING SHADOWS (Shadows Book 3)

Chapter 22

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled as we neared the magical barrier that surrounded Valestone. Every now and then, I'd glance up to make sure the oily gleam of my magic still held. Arden and Fawn flanked me either side, Arden less than pleased he had to take to the air again so soon.

And there she was.

Isobel.

Exactly where Mrs Horton said she'd be.

She stood at the perimeter, bathed in the eerie glow of the moon. She was beautiful—hauntingly beautiful, in the way only a person from another time could be. Her skin was pale as marble, her dark hair flowing down her back in waves that gleamed in the dim light. She wore a gown that shimmered like mist, clinging to her unnaturally perfect frame. But it wasn't her beauty that sent a shiver through me—it was her eyes.

They were wide, bright with madness, the pupils blown out so far that only a thin ring of irises remained. Whatever she had once been, whatever love or pain had existed in her, it had been consumed by centuries of death and isolation. She looked at me like a predator eyeing prey, her lips twisting into a grotesque imitation of a smile. I couldn't say how much humanity remained. And that was my fault, I'd done that to her.

We landed and stalked to the edge of the dome, brooms in hand.

"I ask for the chivalrous knight and he sends demons in his place," she said, her voice lilting with a dangerous edge. "Where is Rafe?"

Guilt tamed my voice. "He's not coming, Isobel."

Her smile faltered, her head tilting to the side like a curious child. "Not coming?" she repeated, her voice rising slightly. "Why wouldn't he come? He's a coward, then. Hiding behind the devil's spawn. Yes. I know exactly what you are. Abominations. Blights on this world. Unnatural."

Arden tensed at my side.

I bit back the immediate surge of anger, keeping my voice measured. "He isn't hiding, Isobel. He's protecting the children you've just made into orphans. Matthew and Niamh were innocent. They caused you know harm. They're your descendants! Yours and Richards and you killed them."

"They paid the price for Rafe's love. I took no pleasure in killing them only in his pain. Her voice sharpened, cutting through the night. "He made me this. And now he won't even face me?"

"Rafe didn't make you this," I said, taking another cautious step forward. "You've been through things no one could imagine. You died, Isobel. You were wronged, I can see that. But this path you're on... it won't bring you peace."

Her laughter rang out—cold, brittle, and cruel. "Peace? You think I want peace? You think I can rest?" Her eyes gleamed like obsidian, and she took a step toward the dome, her fingers brushing the invisible barrier that kept her out. "I don't want peace. I want him. I want his suffering."

"I can help you find peace," I said gently. "I can find a way to let you rest again."

Isobel's face twisted with rage, her beautiful features contorting into something monstrous. "Rest?" she spat, her voice laced with venom. "There'll be no more rest for me. I've been resting for centuries, locked in the dark. Alone. Richard lay so close and yet I was unable to reach him. And now, I'm awake. And Rafe will pay for what he did."

Arden shifted beside me, magic sparking at his fingertips, but I shook my head slightly. I could feel the unhinged energy radiating from Isobel—any sudden movement could set her off. Fawn's magic pulsed too, readying itself.

"You don't have to do this," I said, my voice soft but firm. "Rafe isn't the same man he was when you knew him. He regrets what happened. He's—"

"Regrets?" she interrupted, her voice sharp and mocking. "Does regret bring my life back? Does regret undo the madness he left me in?" She shook her head, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "No, demon. He will face me. And if he doesn't, then I will tear down everything he holds dear until he has nothing left."

"I brought you back. If you should blame anyone, it's me." My heart pounded in my chest, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Isobel wasn't just angry. She wasn't just seeking revenge. She was broken in a way that couldn't be mended with words or magic.

"Careful, Riley," warned Fawn.

Isobel's eyes flared with fury, and for a moment, I thought she would lunge at the barrier, but she stilled, her smile returning, sharp and deadly. "You raised me? Now why would you do something like that?"

I could feel the panic swelling inside me. She knows. She knows. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry for what you've been through. But I won't let you destroy him. Or anyone else."

Isobel's bony hand flew to her chest. She staggered back a couple of steps, her gasp half-laughter, half-anguish. "You love him. And does he-" the words clogged in her throat.

I wouldn't answer that.

"I see. Rafe kills my love, pushes me to the very edge of despair, ripping my life from me and he gets what? Rewards. A new life. I cannot let it be. Where is the fairness in that?"

"Life isn't fair," Fawn said. "All we can do is the right thing when the time comes. And Rafe has. He's a good person. The sacrifices he's made for-" Fawn turned to me and her words stopped.

"I won't let you harm him or anyone else."

"Then we'll see, won't we?" she said, her voice dripping with malice. "You can't protect him forever. I'll be waiting." With that, she turned, her form dissolving into the shadows, leaving us standing there, the chill of her words still lingering in the air.

"So," Arden sighed. "How do you kill something that is already dead?"

The words clanged through me like a distant echo.

How do you kill what is already dead?

I'd heard the words before. Where? When? It seemed like there was a part missing. What was it?

Then it came to me, Gran's voice with a hint of ethereal lure. But it wasn't Gran at all. It was the Goddess.

I have a question for your angel. How do you kill what is already dead?

Shit. She'd known all along.