City Of The Damned (Darkly Devoted Series, Book 5)

Chapter 3

I wished I could have refused Grismal's offer. It was too late now. Grismal's servants ventured outside and plucked up Julian's shadowy remains. It was the first time I could observe how things worked down here. Grismal's servants were humanoid in shape, but they were cloaked and deformed. I supposed they wore the same enchanted fabric that Grismal had given me to protect me from being attacked by the demons that lurked outside.

I caught a glimpse of the servants from under their hoods. They didn't have faces but rather seemed to have skin like sandpaper. Perhaps, they were human once and had turned into stone like the side of the cave this castle had been built into.

I wondered if, under the illusions, Grismal looked like the creatures which served him, but that was a set of questions for another time. The grey, shadowy men caught Julian's spirit by his arms and dragged him toward the majestic front doors. He didn't resist or try to run. I suppose this was what Grismal meant by mindless.

"Watch closely," Grismal offered with a devious smile on his perfectly sculpted face. "This part always amuses me, even after all these years. Look at what happens to the spirits as they cross the threshold into the doors of Seritalis."

The grand doors opened with a loud grating sound like the hardest marble being dragged against bedrock. There was an eerie mist just beyond it, and my human body recoiled again. Every cell in my body told me to run from what lurked beyond that ghostly fog. This palace was a refuge against the land of the dead.

As the guards dragged Julian's lifeless spirit past the threshold, I saw the ghostly outline of his body become enveloped with flesh again.

His body which had been merely a reflection of moonlight solidified into muscle and sinews. His once beautiful face, with its tanned skin complete with its lush slick hair, caught the light of the palace. Skin peeked out from under the sleeves of his dress shirt. His shoes were still covered with bits of grass and mud. I recognized the outfit he was wearing even though it hadn't been one of his more memorable ones. He had only been wearing a white shirt and black slacks that day in Diremore. His shirt was still ripped at the collar, stained with faded blood which had long browned with age. My husband's blood. I could even make out the messy imprint of a bloody finger on Julian's lapel. So many years ago, Blake had ripped the buttons off Julian's shirt inside Diremore.

Julian was still dressed in the clothes he had died in.

The clothes he was wearing the day I killed him.

I clenched my fists. It took every last ounce of willpower to keep my blue-fire-fueled rage at bay. I wondered if Grismal would find it amusing if I immediately killed Julian once again, even before his spirit could open the newfound eyeballs of his fleshly body.

"Can he feel pain?" I asked through the corner of my mouth.

Grismal laughed softly as though he was proud of my barely restrained rage.

"Most humans who are given a chance to face the ghosts of their past would not seek to resurrect their enemies only to murder them again. You, Melody, certainly are different."

"Throw him back with the other ghosts. I change my mind. I don't need a guide." I chewed on my bottom and turned away from the sight of Julian's slowly waking body. His eyes fluttered, and he dropped his knee as though the weight of the flesh was shocking. He was on his hands and knees. A sharp cough erupted from his chest as he took his first breath. Before long, Julian was hacking away on the floor, coughing out the dust and sand he had gathered in his years of wandering the grounds of Mearnox. The idea of Allison or Sallen wandering these dark forsaken grounds brought me endless pain. The thought of Julian wandering around a purgatory, forced to breathe sand and ashes, brought a gleeful smile to my lips.