My lips pinch with fury and concern as I pick my way through the piles of corpses towards her. Their throats have been cut or twisted. The Nephilim wasn't interested in keeping the empty mortals. Her eyes are wide, tears streaked down her cheek. She clamps her hand over her mouth to muffle another cry as I shove corpses aside. Maggots and rats scurry out of their bodies. Gaping, empty eye sockets bore into me. Their faces are frozen in masks of pain and fear. Noses gone chewed off by scavengers or rotted away by time.
Briar reaches out for me, her fingers shaking. I take her hand and rush towards her. The nearest corpse is a mere foot from her, but she doesn’t seem to have noticed this one. I push her head into my chest, hiding the gruesome view from her. Her body trembles violently and I pick a bit of flesh from her cloak before she notices. Willem and Aiden burst into the room, the door slamming open and bashing into another corpse.
“Shit,” Aiden curses, reeling back.
Willem’s eyes widen for an instant with surprise before he recovers. “There’s at least twenty bodies in here.”
"Are you alright?" I ask Briar quietly, stroking her head. She shakes her head sharply, and I feel her fist my shirt in her hands desperately. "I'll get you out of here. Keep your eyes closed."
Briar nods and takes a rattling breath. I sweep her into my arms with ease and hold her close to my chest. She inhales sharply when I scoop her up, but she keeps her eyes tightly closed. I feel a rush of heat as she wraps her arms around my neck, burrowing her face into my chest. Carefully, I weave between the corpses or step over them. I squeeze through a narrow gap, feeling a rotted hand brush over the back of my neck. I inhale sharply through my teeth, disgusted. Willem and Aiden step aside when I reach the doorway. I lower Briar onto the nearby staircase and she pulls her knees into her chest with her eyes tightly closed.
“They’ve been there for some time,” I say, turning back to Willem and Aiden.
“At least a week,” Willem agrees.
“Which means he’s moved on,” I sigh, rubbing my jaw tiredly. “But where?”
“Verstad,” Briar mumbles. I turn, brows furrowed with concern as she looks up. She doesn’t look towards the room of corpses. “He would go to Verstad.”
“What is that?” Aiden asks.
Willem folds his arms over his chest and sighs. “The capitol of Nordsk. It’s a few day’s ride from this village.”
“They noticed him here,” Briar continues, her voice gaining strength. “But they won’t notice him in Verstad.”
Chapter 8
Briar
It’s been almost five years since I last visited Verstad, and I only saw a small portion of the city as we drove through the main thoroughfare to the palace. This is not what I remembered. Instead of clean stonework and stained-glass windows, the buildings in this quarter of Verstad are built of mismatched wood and warped glass, with old thatching for roofs. The nicer buildings have wooden shingles, but even those are misshapen and old.
Gray clouds seem to hang perpetually over this quarter, heavy and sodden with rain that refuses to fall. The streets are damp from the clouds and fog. Gutters run along the sides, steaming with human waste and filth. I watch from the overhang of the inn as children bound along the streets, pausing to beg for coins from travelers. I tug up the hood of the cloak as the children's sharp eyes pass over me. They don't stop and disappear into one of the many alleys. But they're only one of several bands of street children I've seen. They would be the easiest targets for the Nephilim. But Kane believes the Nephilim would only be interested in adults – after all, we found no children in the fortress outside the village.
I shudder thinking of the room. Countless stinking corpses all around me. I was so frightened; their rotting faces were all I could see. I know tonight, it will be all I dream of. The door behind me creaks open, and a woman slips out. She brushes against me, tossing a glare over her shoulder as I step aside to make room for her. I step off the raised doorway and into the street, careful to avoid the gutter. Biting my lip, I glance around for Kane to reappear. He left me in the relative shelter of the doorway while he searched for a place for us to lodge. But he's been gone for some time now, and my stomach is in knots.
Once the woman clears the doorway, I duck back into it, shoulders hunched. The people here scowl more often than they smile, and they never speak except to curse at me. I pluck at the hem of my cloak nervously, wearing at a thread. Suddenly, I see Kane’s black hair above the crowd. He stands at least half a head taller than most, and the women gawk at him as he passes. I feel a burn of jealousy in my gut as some of the women titter. He doesn’t belong to me, I chide myself. Even if he did, I should only feel hatred for him. But he held me so sweetly when he took me out of that room of horrors. And he offered me one of his cold shadows to comfort me when no
