Torment (Soul Savers Book 6) by Kristie Cook

over my shoulder.
    “Everybody’s
gone,” he murmured.
    I scrubbed my hands
over my gritty cheeks and nodded. “I’m going to get
cleaned up then.”
    I flashed to the
mansion and trudged up the stairs to our suite. As soon as I was
inside, I shed my leathers—white from dust now instead of
black—while making my way to the bathroom. After letting the
shower heat up to steaming, I stepped inside, sat on the floor,
curled my knees under my chin, and let the sobs out.
    They came from so deep
within, my body physically hurt as they wracked their way out. My
heart broke over and over again as the images of my people’s
faces and their homes flashed in my mind. My stomach clutched and
heaved at the same time. Not even a month had passed since Mom and
Rina died, and there had been so much more death and destruction
since then. Way too much grief for one person to handle.
    And there would still
be more. I knew this as much as I knew my own name. No matter how you
tried to dress it up—soldiers in fancy white and gold uniforms
of centuries past pretending like they were gentlemen as they slayed
their enemies, guerilla warriors ambushing their unsuspecting rivals,
or privileged politicians using drones to do their dirty work—war
was ugly. Despicable. Not for the tenderhearted.
    Lucas had put me in
this position because he believed I had a dark side—as dark as
him, maybe. He slayed Mom so he could watch me shed any Amadis
pretenses and show him and everyone in the world that darkness within
me. I’d thought at first the Angels had set me up like this for
a similar reason—because I had more of that ruthlessness needed
for war than Rina or Mom did. My stomach was strong enough, my heart
hard enough, and my soul cold enough to do what would need to be done
to bring us to victory.
    What had I been
thinking? What had the Angels been thinking by saying I was
ready for this? Even seeing troops fighting each other around the
world in Norman wars … even witnessing skirmishes like
Kuckaroo where people died in front of me … war had remained
more of an abstract concept to me than a daily reality. I didn’t
have enough experience with true destruction and defeat until now.
I’d thought battles would fuel me—feed my anger and need
for vengeance, keep me focused on the end goal. I hadn’t known
how it would truly affect me until it became real. So very real.
    The violence and
destruction of it all tore me apart. Ravaged me from the inside. I
still felt anger and vengeance. I still focused on the goal of ending
Lucas and the Daemoni. But I also felt even weaker than before. As
though my strength had been sucked out by a vacuum, leaving me empty.
Hopeless. Unable to see how there could ever be light again.
    Tristan found me a
little while later in the same fetal position as he stepped into the
shower with me. He picked me up, sat down on the built-in bench with
me in his lap, and held me as the water rained down on us, my tears
still coming just as fast.
    “I’ve
failed them all,” I finally said, my voice thick and rough.
    “No, you haven’t, ma lykita ,” he murmured. “You’ve done what
you could. You’ll continue doing all you can. You were right
before. Sheree was right when she said it. War brings casualties.”
    “It’s one
thing to say it, and another to have it thrown in your face.” I
wrapped my arms around him and leaned my cheek against his bare
chest. “I hate war. Why is this happening now? Why the war of
all wars when I’m in charge?”
    He pushed my sopping
wet hair away from my face and stroked my cheek with his thumb. “You
know the answer to that.”
    “Because Lucas
gets a kick out of tormenting his own daughter. It’s all part
of his game.”
    “You are the
biggest challenge he’ll ever face, and he knows it. He probably
gets a sick hard-on over it. That much is true.” He leaned in
and brushed his lips over my forehead. “But that’s not
really why this is happening now. He’s not