(Skeleton Key) Princess of the Damned (2 page)

H
ER CHAMBERS ALWAYS SEEMED
so much colder when he left. She dropped her knitting, untangled Kaida from her arm, and rolled off the bed, landing lightly on her feet. Clutching up her skirts, she wandered to the balcony, the chains on her wrists clattering with every move, but she'd worn them so long she barely noticed. The nightmares were out, now. The day waned, the bleak yellow-black sun was setting. It was their favorite time of the day, when the new souls arrived to try to fight their way to the castle, seeking retribution.

The nightmares made that as difficult as possible.

Eiress thought by now she'd be used to the screaming. But no. Not ever. It clawed at her heart and sent chills through her blood. She could see some of them, dancing in the shadows below her.

Her land was made up of everything feared. Clowns were common, as were spiders. Monsters and werewolves and vampires. Sharp cliffs in the distance, foaming waves surging below them. Dolls with empty eyes and broken, half-eaten bodies.

The kittens, though, always amused her, as did the butterflies.

She watched them now, fluffy little black things with bright green eyes—the kittens, not the butterflies. They chased the dark souls, and the souls screamed in horror and raced away. The strange thing about her world, though, was no matter how fast one ran, the fear was always right there with them.

Maybe it wasn't so different from real life.

The souls themselves were what really scared her. They roiled in rottenness, like curdled, writhing oil with flashes of their victims' faces, screaming for help. She didn't see their physical bodies—the other princesses could, which is why so many had been tricked into taking the damned souls' places in hell. A pretty face could persuade anyone, it seemed.

But no, Eiress saw their souls. She had no idea what they had looked like before they came to her court. They, more than anything out in her forests, haunted her dreams and caused her to wake screaming.

She shivered, rubbing her bare arms. Lifting her skirts again, she swung away, eyes drifting to the sky and the black, black moon.

The ball would start soon.

Horror washed over her in waves, as always.

And then warmth. He was back.

Smiling, she hurried back inside. The closer she came to the mirror, the warmer she got—it was the only warmth in a world of ice. She could feel his frustration, and she fought to alleviate it. "The kittens are back. They're smaller than before. And fluffier. Maybe Kaida would like a friend." She raised an eyebrow at her dragon and he hissed as he scampered away.

Laughing, she turned back to the mirror. She wondered if he could see her, or if he just felt her presence, the way she felt him. She wondered if—if he could see her—if he thought she was pretty. She could feel his soul, and knew it was beautiful. Was hers, as well? Subconsciously, she smoothed the front of her dress. "You have some odd villains in your world. I mean, all villains are off, you know? Of course. But their fears. Some of them are funny. I saw one who was afraid of a phone. It was being chased by a giant receiver. I almost fell right off my balcony, I laughed so hard. Although the chains would have caught me, and then I would have just hung there…"

Well. That had escalated quickly.

Out of words, she picked up her knitting and settled herself into the middle of her bed. Humming, she started knitting again, praying that his warmth wouldn't leave her.

Inevitably it did, but it returned. Three times before the ball, he left and came back. Only he, in her world of darkness, could chase the shadows away.

But even he couldn't save her from the ball. Nothing could. As the moon disappeared behind the sharp cliffs, she slid to her feet, put her knitting away, tucked Kaida into her armoire so nothing could find him, and opened her jewelry box. The glittering black crown burned her fingers as she raised it to her head. Lifting her chin, she swept out of her chambers and into the hall, chains rattling quietly in her wake. Plush carpets silenced her progress, and she moved like a ghost through the castle and down the turret steps. By the time she reached the second floor, the wailing and moaning was already wafting through the air.

The Damned had arrived.

She reached the doors to the ballroom. They were carved with the faces of the damned, screaming in horror. Mary, in particular, loved this door most. Taking a deep breath, trying to keep the horror at bay, Eiress pulled the doors open.

"Look who's late, as usual." Elizabeth sat on her throne, perfect black lips pursed in annoyance.

"Quiet, Elizabeth." That voice.

Mary.

That voice sent chills down Eiress's spine. It was the first thing she'd heard when she'd opened her eyes here, telling Elizabeth that they would keep this one. That she was special, that she would be their princess.
We can't hurt this one, Elizabeth. Her spirit would kill us all.

"She doesn't enjoy this like we do." Mary's smile dripped wickedness. She wasn't beautiful, as Elizabeth was. Her hair was short and frizzy, but her stature, the way she held herself—it was far more terrifying than Elizabeth could ever hope to be.

Bloody Mary. The Queen of the Damned.

Eiress could see their outward appearances, unlike the damned, who were just souls. It was because they still lived, or lived again, rather. Vlad, too. But she also saw their souls, inside, and knew them to be truly terrifying.

"Vlad, let the souls in. Maybe one will catch her fancy tonight." Mary swept her arms wide. As their steward turned to open the wide doors leading outside, Eiress took her spot on the throne between Elizabeth and Mary.

As always, Elizabeth murmured, "We could always kill her. I haven't had a blood bath in ages. My skin is positively gray."

It was true, but no amount of virgin blood could change that. Her soul was rotting her from the inside out.

Vlad turned, his heels clicking. "May I introduce the Queen of the Damned, Mary Tudor, her handmaiden, Elizabeth Bathory, and the Princess of the Damned, Eiress Aziz Reinheit." Then he spread his arms wide and the crowd of souls on the other side flooded the room, primping and preening, trying to get the attention of the three women on their thrones. The music started, slow and haunting—the stuff children heard when they were lost in the forest. The melodies that slid through the night before death.

The crowd of damned surged forward, vying for a dance with one of the women. One dance was all it took to give them another chance at life above. Mary and Elizabeth could dance without sacrificing their own souls, but Eiress could not. One dance with any of these horrific souls would free them, but send her to hell in their place. She'd seen too many other princesses choose that path.

No matter how many times Mary tried to force her, Eiress would not be one of them.

She had her friend. The one she could feel in the mirror. And she had Kaida.

That didn't stop the souls from nearly crushing her though, the evilness slithering through their eyes, smothering their black hearts. Every time they brushed her skin, she was overcome with memories of their greatest sins.

Eiress cringed away, and Elizabeth and Mary laughed at her. They relished her discomfort. They taunted her, trying to drive her to hell, but they would not succeed.

No. They would not.

"Dance!" Mary commanded, and the souls, quaking in terror, chose partners and waltzed through the ballroom. "I so miss this," she murmured to Elizabeth. "Nothing compares to life outside the Isles."

Elizabeth patted Mary's arm, but her eyes strayed to the beautiful young women with rotted souls twirling across the floor below them. "We will escape soon enough. All it takes is one of these souls to find the key."

The key. The only thing that protected the world from Mary's bloodthirsty presence. The key unlocked their chains, and then it was just a matter of pulling someone in through the mirror and escaping out in that poor soul's place.

If any of these souls that Mary and Elizabeth sent back ever found the key, the world would never recover. Every night, Eiress prayed the key would stay hidden for the rest of eternity.

Even if it meant she would never be free.

L
ANDON'S SHIFT AT THE ANTIQUE STORE
ended as Eiress left for the ball. He'd followed her there once, watching through the grand mirrors that lined the ceiling of the ball room, but it had been so horrific, he'd never dared follow her again.

He was a coward.

However, he did catch glimpses of her whenever he checked his rearview mirror, huddled on her throne, leaning away from the crush of people trying to smother her alive. Some, he recognized—he'd seen them on the news when they'd died for their crimes.

"Hang in there, Eiress," he murmured as he pressed the gas pedal closer to the floor. "I'm almost home."

His mom met him at the door. "Hey. Dinner's almost ready." She took his bag, hung it up, planted a kiss on his cheek, and went back to cooking. He inwardly groaned—she had a tendency to burn everything she attempted to make. His dad was the chief cook in the house. "Why are you so late tonight? I left the store almost an hour ago."

"Uh, someone came in. Last minute emergency."

"A last minute emergency at an antique store?" She glanced at him over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I guess. I'm just gonna go wash up. Dust. Everywhere." He held up his hands, which were indeed grimy from the antiques. She nodded, but somehow in the time between when she'd gone back to cooking and he'd finished his sentence, she'd become distracted by the phone and was scrolling and giggling while the pasta boiled all over the stove. "Mom? Mom!" Landon jogged past her and lifted the pan to safety.

"Oh. Crap." She bit her lip and frowned, dropping the phone onto the table.

He left her to it and ran up to the bathroom. He'd learned early on to never go into a room with a mirror without the light on first. Mary couldn't come out unless he called her name three times, but that didn't mean he wanted to tempt fate or anything. "Where are you, Eiress?" He scanned the mirror, but the crush of damned was so complete that he couldn't see her.

He could feel her, though. He could feel the panic and the fear and the pain. Because of that, he refused to look away. He had to dig way down deep to find the courage, because it was seriously messed up—Mary and Elizabeth were sweeping across the dance floor, their skin white, lips bloodless, hands like claws on the arms of the souls they were sending back to earth.

Evil souls.

Mary and Elizabeth always chose the very most evilest of souls to send back. Maybe because they ruled the Isles, but unlike their princesses, they never had to take the Damned souls' place in hell. It wasn't fair.

Not at all.

That was when he saw her. Eiress wasn't crushed beneath the souls, but standing at the gate to hell, head held high, ushering the souls through with her glittering black staff. She looked…

Fearless.

Undefeatable.

Beautiful.

If he hadn't been able to feel her fear, he would think she had none in her.

"
L
ANDON?"

Landon jerked out of wherever his mind had gone when he heard his name. He stared blankly at the teacher, scrambling to figure out what he'd asked. Something about Hitler?

"Hitler got syphilis. That's karma, baby." Cassie smirked, arm draped over the back of Landon's chair.

"Karma doesn't exist," a kid across the aisle said, rolling his eyes.

"What's karma?" Bella, the girl behind him, who somehow managed to be in high school despite being continually clueless, was frowning as she looked from Cassie to the kid whose name Landon couldn't remember.

"Karma is the belief that whatever you do, good or bad, it comes back to you," Cassie said over her shoulder.

Right.
Landon gritted his teeth. But since he had no idea what they were talking about, he wasn't in a hurry to inject his own opinions.

Maybe Bella wasn't the only clueless one.

"Whatever. Karma had nothing to do with Hitler getting syphilis."