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Dark Amour

Page 14

by L A Kennedy


  She didn’t stop there. As tired as she was, she kept running, running toward the banquet hall, where she knew Zylan would be housed. It was a bloodbath inside. The Rancor Order was slaughtering women and children who had taken shelter within the safety of the hall.

  Amity pulled the trigger three times, before pushing herself into another fhade. She would rematerialize, only to pull the trigger again and fhade. She cleared the room but not soon enough. Everyone was dead. She turned in a circle. Bodies covered the once-white marble floor.

  “Amity?” a voice called from the back.

  Amity turned with her gun up, as the thick velvet curtains parted. Neri stepped out, holding a gun. Behind her, the queen followed with a small group of children behind her. A small gun was clutched in her shaking and blood-soaked hand.

  “Neri.” Amity smiled. “How did you get here so fast?”

  Neri smiled. “I have my ways, which included grabbing Sid once he’d showed up and pulling him into my bedroom. I may have held a gun to his…important male bits.”

  Amity grinned and gave Neri a nod, then looked to the queen. “Where is Zander? I know he came back. Where is he hiding?”

  The queen shook her head. “I don’t know. It all happened so fast. I grabbed as many children as I could carry and ran. Dearest Orygin, I don’t even know where my own child is.”

  “I haven’t seen him. I found the queen under attack. Her mate left her to die. I got her in here, tucked her away and have been collecting children and stashing them,” Neri said, pointing behind her. “We have twenty more little ones back here. The Order followed me in and killed the others.”

  Amity nodded and whistled a high-pitched whistle. A Therian skidded into the room, sliding on the blood. The werewolf was Bane. His colors were exactly like his human hair, soft, light browns and shiny. But it was his eyes that told Amity. His eyes were still Bane.

  “It’s okay. He’s with me,” Amity said, looking back at Queen Zylamon, who had stepped back in fear. Therians and Vampyres didn’t have the best of history. Amity looked back to Bane. “Protect them with your life, Bane, no matter what. I’m going to go find Zander.”

  “It’s all right, Zylamon. Bane is one of the good guys,” Neri whispered, pulling them all back behind the thick curtains.

  Bane sniffed the air and gave Amity a growl, reminding her to use her senses, to remember how to track. Amity winked and breathed in the air. She breathed past the blood and fear and anger. She breathed in deeply enough to smell Zylan. She could smell the oils they had used on his skin before the Reaping, royal oils. Then she caught the essence of Zander and his wife.

  Amity breathed out and fhaded, landing inches from Zander’s face.

  “Amity!” Zander grabbed her and pulled her behind him, holding his sword out in front of him. Behind him, his wife was holding two scared and crying children.

  Amity stepped back to his side. “Zander, we need to go. We can’t stay in here. I have brought the Therians, and the Slayers are not far behind. If we have a chance, we need to get the hell out of here. Can you fhade?”

  “We can, but the kids… The kids can’t fhade yet,” Zander replied.

  Amity whistled two high-pitched whistles once again, calling two Therians to her location. She grabbed the two kids and moved toward the wolves.

  “What are you doing?” Zander snapped, trying to take back his children.

  “They have come to help us, Zander. They will get your kids to their territory. You will grab your mother and do the same thing,” Amity said, placing the two children onto the backs of the wolves. She looked each wolf in the eyes. “Fight with your lives. You keep them alive, dear Orygin. You keep them alive. Now go!”

  Zander’s wife screamed, chasing after them. Zander grabbed her hand, pulling her back into his chest, trying to calm her down, reassuring her that the children were safer with the Therians than in Sola-Nosfer. They both pushed themselves into a fhade, Amity followed next.

  Rematerializing back in the hall, Amity saw that Neri was standing beside the body of the king, her gun still smoking from pulling the trigger. She looked up to Amity and Zander. “No one gets to abuse me or those I love. I don’t care what your station is. No one fuckin’ touches me or Zylamon.”

  Behind her, on the floor, the queen held her gown to her now-bleeding nose.

  “She wouldn’t leave the children, me or Zylan. She wouldn’t leave, so he hit her. He hit her again, and I warned him. He hit her again, so I pointed my gun at him. He grabbed my arm, and I pulled the trigger,” Neri explained.

  Zander touched Neri’s arm and nodded. “Like a dog, he had to be put down.” He looked to Bane and winked. “No offense.”

  Bane howled, his people slinking in behind him. Amity and the others helped load the children onto the backs of the Therians. They were being carried out and into Therian territory. The survivors would fhade and meet them there.

  “We have to go,” Amity said, grabbing Neri’s hand.

  Neri shook her head, standing in front of the door to Zylan’s transformation chamber. “I won’t leave him, Amity. Go, please. Find the others. Save your people. I will save him.”

  Amity gave Neri a hug and ran from the room. There would be no argument with Neri’s plan that could be won. Amity didn’t bother wasting the time.

  * * * *

  Neri stood in front of the door. Each member of the Order who’d made the mistake of venturing too far into the back of the banquet hall had ended up in a pool of his own brains. With her Fyrvor behind that door, she could do this all night and all day without needing a break.

  Bane returned, taking a seat to her right. Neri grabbed hold of his fur and waited. Anyone who entered was taken out, fast and hard. They spared no one, gave no warnings and took no chances.

  Bane tilted his head, growling. Neri’s mouth twisted into a grin. “They’re going to be so fucking sorry.”

  Neri and Bane stepped to the side as they heard Zylan let out a blood-curdling scream. She’d never heard a more frightening sound, but she welcomed it. The door came off of its hinges, sliding across the floor, stopping against the bodies.

  Zylan emerged and took one look at Neri, who gave him a nod, and he was gone. Neri jumped onto Bane’s back, and they both were off, running behind Zylan. Sola-Nosfer was ablaze. The Slayers were here in full force, bring the Proletaryans to their deaths, but the damage was already done. There weren’t many survivors. The grounds were twisted heaps of Vampyres and bad guys. Neri climbed off Bane once the coast was clear. She walked beside the wolf, trying to be careful not to step on all the remains.

  Zylan, with someone dragging behind him, came back to Neri. He kissed her lips. “I told you I wouldn’t be late.” He tossed a man to Neri’s feet. “Is this the man who helped torture you?”

  Neri stepped back. “Zylan, don’t do this. You swore to me.”

  “Neri, answer the question, please.”

  Even though she knew his ‘please’ was added for effect, Neri closed her eyes, nodding her head, over and over. She was back in Strain’s prison. She was back in the room. “His name is Garm. He is a Calyph. Please, Zy. Don’t do this. Not for me and not in my name.”

  Zylan grabbed Neri and pulled her into his arms. “I gave my word.”

  Neri opened her eyes. Garm was being bound by Riam and guarded by Bane. By the sight of Bane’s raised hackles, he wanted Garm to bolt. He wanted to chase him down and rip him limb from limb.

  “Let’s go, Neri. Neither of us needs to see this,” Zylan whispered, turning her around and walking her away.

  She didn’t flinch when she heard Garm scream. She truly didn’t care. She just didn’t want it to stain her or her Fyrvor.

  “All of my family, they’re gone. I used to wish for them to just be gone, but not like this—never like this,” Zylan whispered, gripping her hand to his heart.

  “I found your mom. I hid her and some children behind a curtain. I couldn’t get them all, Zy. I tried. Amity fou
nd your brother, his wife, and their children. They’re being protected in Therian territory,” Neri whispered back, feeling the relief flood his body. “Amity called on Bane and his people to help. She woke me out of a deep sleep to warn the others.”

  “And my father?”

  Neri paused. “Well, this is a little awkward.”

  “Was he killed?”

  “Yes and no. The Order didn’t kill him. But yes, he’s dead. I shot him, in the heart. I knew it was a kill shot, and I took it. He attacked your mother as she held children in her arms, all because she wouldn’t leave them behind. Then he came at me. I warned him, Zy, but he grabbed me. I won’t ever be abused, never. I don’t care who it is. I’ll kill them,” Neri said, drawing a line in the sand.

  Zylan pulled her under his arm. “I’d have killed him too. Anyone who touches you or my mother or anyone I care for… I’ll end them.”

  “Let’s go find your family and go home,” Neri said, both of them walking away from his old life, toward their new one.

  So many innocents had fallen under the darkness of that night. So many had given their lives—and for what? For Strain and his hate? Not good enough. Neri knew Des would have her hands wrapped around Garm’s neck soon enough, learning everything they’d need to know about how to kick Strain’s ass back into the hole he’d crawled out of.

  Chapter Twenty

  Strain had spent an hour trying to put a word to the feeling that was eating him up inside. The only word that came close to it was failure.

  Failure, a noun—an act or instance of failing or proving unsuccessful. Failure, in any other definition, was the act of not performing to the expectations of the Genesys. It was going against his word, thinking you somehow knew better than someone who has walked the earth longer than sin had tempted man.

  Failure had a flavor all of its own. It filled his mouth with the taste of curdled milk and rotting meat. It twisted Strain’s stomach into a powerless knot, one that only grew with each gulp. It filled his nose with a stench he couldn’t quite describe—rank and sour, like an unwashed carcass that had been sitting in the sun or found on the side of the road, served up as Strain’s last meal.

  Strain stood with his head held high in the back room of his sound studio, waiting for his father. There would be no running from him. His father was everywhere and nowhere. He was a fucking ghost. Worse than that, he was the darkness that made shadows that lived in every corner and crack.

  Strain had expected a report on his desk by mid-afternoon, or, at the very least, for Garm to stroll through the door with his cocky smile. Mission completed, again. When there was no report and no Garm, he went looking. The Order had not returned. Neither had his little puppets. No one had returned.

  Strain had tried to make his way to Sola-Nosfer, but had never made it there. The grounds were crawling with Therians. At first, he thought the wolves had come to scavenge, until he saw the Slayers walking with them, communicating with them. From the back hills, he watched more Therians, the wereleopards and werebears. They were all banding together. The irregulars were forming alliances right before his eyes. Groups who had killed each other were now working together toward one common goal. His attempt to wipe out Sola-Nosfer had created a union between groups.

  He’d failed at a task that had been planned right down to the smallest detail. It had still been disastrous. He’d gone over every detail in his head. It should have gone perfectly. It should have happened exactly as planned.

  “You can’t run from fate,” the Genesys spoke, his voice rolling out from all four corners of the room. “You did not plan for everything, Strain. You did not plan for your own pride and self-admiration. You did not plan on your own fate. You did not plan for the blinding hate you hold for your brother.”

  Through gritted teeth, the voice of the Genesys felt like pins were being driven into his brain. Strain snapped. “Cael. Is. Not. My. Brother.”

  The Genesys took form in front of him. Strain didn’t need to see his father’s face to see that he was smiling, and it wasn’t the kind of smile you’d have plastered on your face when running into a long lost friend. It was the same smile Strain had when he was about to pump a bullet into a friend’s head.

  “You stand as an equal? Surely you do not see yourself as my equal?” His father’s words crippled him, bringing him to his knees. “I’ve asked you a question.”

  “No, I do not see myself as an equal,” Strain replied, his words whispered out in a stranglehold.

  “I didn’t think you were that foolish, although your foolishness is a constant surprise.” The Genesys paced in front of Strain, who was on his knees, as he usually met his father. “You say Cael is not your brother. You have claimed many times that there is no love lost there. For there to be a hate this thick, there has to be love. There is always a balance. With darkness, comes light. With cold, comes heat. With the moon, there is a sun. With hate, there is love.”

  Strain shook his head. “Once I loved him. Once. That love is no more.”

  “Ahh, so there is only blinding hate. This hate has caused yet another failure, another loss.”

  “I will rebuild,” Strain spoke more for himself than his father. He’d told himself that very same thing the moment he’d walked away from Sola-Nosfer.

  “In your own words, ‘ You take from me, I take from you. ’”

  Strain lifted his head, tilting it with cluelessness.

  “Indeed, son of mine. Everything of yours is already mine.” The words of the Genesys felt like blistering hot slices down Strain’s psyche. “You hold on to these human values and weaknesses. You hold on to hate and a greed for victory. Again, human values. Yet you fail, time and time again. You are blind, and this blindness blocks your path every step of the way. You love and hate. You starve for the destruction of a group that demolishes everything you have built. Your focus is on Cael and his Slayers, but you forget that the bigger picture is not about them.”

  “I will not make this mistake again, Father,” Strain whispered, head down, feeling defeated.

  “I am certain of that, for you will have no abilities to use, to create the world you have in your mind. Do you think I cannot see what your wishes are? Do you think I cannot see your plans for my death—for you to take over and rule? You forget about balance. You forget about rules and agreements. You lie to save your skin, only to fall back into your human ways. Since you enjoy these human ways so greatly, they will be my gift to you.”

  Strain’s body twitched, then pitched off the floor. He stretched his mouth into a scream that would be eaten by the darkness of the Genesys.

  His father leaned into his face, grinning, as the darkness swallowed Strain’s head. “What is it you always say? Ahh, yes. You can’t run from fate.”

  The Genesys repeated the words Strain had said for months, whispering them into his mouth as he pulled Strain apart from the inside, sucking away the darkness inside Strain, back into his mouth. Then the Genesys pulled his mouth away. Strain couldn’t feel his limbs. He couldn’t feel his own eyes blinking. He was in complete darkness.

  “You will remain here, with me, for one month. And in that one month, the irregulars will take everything from you. You will start anew. You will rebuild without abilities. You will rebuild as I see fit, or your next punishment will be death.”

  Strain heard nothing more. He didn’t know if he was standing or on his back. He felt nothing but pain and a crushing emptiness.

  He was afraid, but not even the word ‘fear’ could cover what he felt inside. Where his humanity had once lived was nothing more than a void of darkness. Anything that formerly resembled who he’d been, what he’d been, who he’d killed to become, was gone. His identity was removed and replaced with bone-crushing terror. The shell of a man he’d once been was left dangling in the darkness of his father.

  Part of him wanted out. He had to get out. It was the kind of darkness that light couldn’t penetrate. Yet, to be released was to go back to nothing.
Everything was gone, taken from him. He would be nothing.

  The darkness had come, as he’d known it would. But he was the only one to have been taken by it. The darkness had eaten him and everything he called his. The darkness had chewed him up and spat out the bones, keeping everything valuable. He tried to close his eyes, but he could feel nothing. It was just as dark either way.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Locked and loaded, they were ready. Every Slayer was on deck, armed to the teeth and jumping out of their skin to take down the Order. Garm, who was still being held captive at the compound—soon to be turned over to Sola-Nosfer for tryhal—was interrogated by Des.

  “I’ll never talk,” Garm spat in her face.

  Des stifled a laugh. They were always big and tough until she got hold of them. If he only knew. Everyone else in the compound knew exactly what a touch from her could do to a man, and they were scared shitless. She would either eat their memories or give them ones that made burning to death feel like minor sunburn.

  She pulled up a stool and removed her gloves. “I don’t need you to say a word. In fact, your silence will be a big help.”

  Des didn’t run her hands over him, as she’d learned. She grabbed onto his arms. She was in for the brain kicking of her life, but she held on. With Zylan, Sid and Riam at her back, she’d endured hours of this. Finally, getting everything she could possibly get from the piece of shit, she was done. Then Sid carried her out of the room. He tucked Des into bed, beside her Aegys, her Fyrvor, where she could sleep an entire day away. He’d eagerly waited for her there. Des rarely used her abilities to the extent that she’d needed to for Garm with Cael in the room. His need to protect her broke her concentration.

  She’d seen more than her heart could handle. Broken, she clung to her mate and let her sadness wash over and out of her. Cael, her man of worth, stood guard, holding her, soothing her, making love to her. As she faded into sleep, she knew he’d do whatever it took to show her life and love and remind her what the hell they were all dying for.

 

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