The Azar Omnibus: The Complete Azar Trilogy (The Azar Trilogy Book 0)

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The Azar Omnibus: The Complete Azar Trilogy (The Azar Trilogy Book 0) Page 54

by Grace McGinty


  “Good.” Killian said, moving on. “As a second order of business, I would like to convene this Council as a War Council. Everyone in favor?” All hands rose. “Excellent. Then let’s get down to saving the world, shall we?”

  Chapter 10

  She drove towards Oliver’s cabin in a state of bewilderment. The rest of the meeting had all been a little bit of a blur, but she assumed she’d answered questions, and made appropriate comments because no one stripped her of her Councilor status there and then.

  Azar Nazemi, Councilor for the Unbound. Malee’s voice saying those words kept going around and around in her head.

  On one hand, she was honored. She had a real chance to make a difference to people like her and Freya and even Donovan. When she’d cornered Malee after the meeting just to find out whose bright idea making her Councilor was, her sister had laughed.

  “Who else would we make Councilor, Az? You’ve done so much for the rights of mixed-bloods already; you gave the less than half-bloods protection and a name. They aren’t just forgotten, collateral damage anymore. You convinced Killian, and then a room full of hard-nosed Djinn, that letting them have a Council seat was the only option. And that was during your servitude, of all times. Hell, you even got rid of enforced servitude. Imagine what you will be able to do with real power of a Council position.”

  Azar had wanted to argue. That was all just circumstance, anyone with half a conscience would have done the same thing. Not for the first time, she wondered if she had any control over her life at all, or if it was fate, preordained since her birth.

  She was only fifteen miles from Oliver’s love shack when a sudden cold sweat broke out along her skin.

  Something was wrong.

  Her heart pounded as she put her foot down, breaking the speed limit by a dangerous amount. She swerved around cars and trucks but she just knew that if she didn’t get to Oliver’s cabin immediately, something very bad would happen.

  The landscape flew by in a blur, and she was glad that she didn’t see the flash of Highway Patrol. As she skidded into the driveway of the cabin, she could see the reason for the fear that was hammering her.

  The Fae were attacking, and in large numbers. Lorcan’s forces pushed them back from the house, but there were more of the enemy than the Black Prince's army.

  She caught a brief glimpse of Oliver cutting his way through one of the Fae, but he was bloody and slow. She couldn’t see Nevyn or Freya, and her panic ratcheted up a notch. She prayed they were in the house, but at this rate, they wouldn’t be held back for long. Something needed to shift the balance.

  Azar punched the windscreen, easily shattering it.

  BAST!

  I’m here. Bast’s voice seemed strained, and she could see a tree fall down, trapping a Fae soldier beneath its trunk.

  Tell anyone who is with us to pull back, I’m going to drop a surprise into their laps. In five…

  She put her foot on the gas, and at the same time, she ignited.

  Four, three, two…

  Azar sent a flame through the air vents and down into the engine of the car.

  One.

  She ignited the gas tank so the car exploded in a fireball. Luckily, she was a Councilor now; they couldn’t kick her ass for destroying Adel property.

  She crawled out of the broken windscreen, her wings already unfurling from her back and her body encased in white-hot fire.

  Fae were rolling on the ground, trying to put out their uniforms. Fireballs spewed from her fingers like molten death, and she encased those closer to her in flames. Lorcan’s forces rushed forward to execute the downed Fae as they got to their feet, and the tide of the battle changed. But it was still too close for comfort.

  Someone threw her a sword, and she caught it instinctively. But as soon as it touched her flaming hand, the shaft went up in neon blue flames.

  Azar stood still, just gaping at it. Normal metal would have melted in her hand by now, but this sword still felt cool in her grip.

  She looked over her shoulder and saw Jack fade back into the woods. A Fae in an enemy uniform crept up to him from behind, running him through with a sword. She let out a shout, but Jack just rolled his eyes and stepped forward, the sword sliding back out of his body.

  Azar watched as the hole in his body just disappeared, and Jack turned toward his attacker, shaking his head. He said something to his assailant, then swung his forehead into the man’s face, knocking him out.

  She’d briefly forgotten he couldn’t be killed by mortal means, being the Heart of the World, a true immortal. But he couldn’t lift a hand in violence. She thought about the Fae’s body going down like a sack of potatoes after that head-butt. Technically he hadn’t lifted his hand.

  Azar swung her sword in a circle, a move she’d only ever seen in the movies. The sword felt right in her hand, like an extension of her arm.

  Two Fae ran towards her, and she pushed off her feet and into the air, slashing at one with her sword and kicking the other with her flame covered foot. All her clothes had burned away when she ignited.

  A man in full regalia stepped in front of her. He had long blond hair to his waist, and a gold embroidered tunic.

  “I have come to collect my cousin. Hand him to me, and I’ll withdraw my troops without slaughtering the rest of your pathetic guard.”

  She pointed her sword at his chest. “I’m afraid we’ve never met. You are?”

  He sneered at her. “I am Finlay, the new and rightful King of the Golden Throne of the Seelie.”

  Azar screwed up her nose. “Wow, that’s a bit of a mouthful. I’m just going to call you Fin.” She stepped forward, waving the sword haphazardly in his direction. Droplets of blue flame shook off, landing on the grass near his calfskin shoes. “I’m sorry Fin, but Nevyn isn’t home right now. I’ll tell him you stopped by though.”

  She thrust the sword at his chest and he stepped backwards, his own sword coming up to meet hers. With prolonged contact between their swords, the heat of the neon blue flame began to melt Fin’s, making it droop a little, curving the blade.

  “Seems your sword has a little erectile problem, Finny,” she laughed.

  Red, hot hate mottled Finlay’s face, and he shouted something in Gaelic and sifted away. Soon, his soldiers followed, and Lorcan’s troops were swinging their swords at thin air. Who fought with swords in this day and age anyway?

  Azar sprinted into the house, and looked through the living room and kitchen, finding no sign of Freya and Nevyn anywhere. She got to the hall and found Donovan lying prone on the floor.

  “Donovan!” She knelt beside him, looking for his injury. There was a gaping wound in his side, but it didn’t look dangerous. His face was beaded in sweat, his face pallid with death.

  “Donovan! Hey!” Azar shook him, and his eyes fluttered open. He sucked in a breath, and so did she. Thank fuck. She ran her hand through his hair, brushing it away from his eyes.

  “I’m fine. It’s already healing. Just lost too much blood… and passed out… Find Freya.” His voice was a raspy whisper, and she hesitated to leave him. “Go!” he growled, his onyx eyes flashing.

  She shot to her feet, and ran down the hall. The door to the rear bedroom had been kicked in, and she ran in, sword drawn.

  Two Fae had Nevyn and Freya cornered in the room, their only defense a shifted Becca standing in front of them, guarding her charges. Azar yelled, and stabbed one of the Fae in the kidney, and slit the others throat as he turned to face the new threat.

  Both bodies sank to the ground, and Azar jumped over them towards the kids. Nevyn had Freya behind him, her gallant defender to the last.

  Azar got a good look at Becca and sucked in a breath. She was wounded. Too wounded. Slash marks riddled her body, and as Azar watched, the wolf fell to her side.

  She dropped down beside Becca, and watched as the wolf shifted back into Becca. The slashes were even more prominent in this form.

  “Swords…were… silver,” she g
asped out. “I… didn’t tell. This wasn’t…me.” Blood bubbled up through her lips, and her breaths made an awful gurgling noise. “I tried…I kept my oath.”

  Azar pushed Becca’s hair out of her face and tears welled in her eyes. “I know, I believe you. You protected them. You’re honorable. A hero.”

  “Tell…Aaron…” She sucked in a gasping breath, and tears pooled in the corners of Azar’s eyes.

  “You can tell him yourself. We’ll get you to a doctor. You’ll be fine.”

  Becca rolled her eyes. “I still...don’t like…you.” Azar laughed through her haze of tears.

  “I know.” She squeezed Becca's hand as the girl coughed up blood, spattering it over them both. Finally, she took one more shaky breath, and went limp.

  Azar put her head on Becca's and sobbed. Becca had been her responsibility, her charge, and she’d let her die. Becca’s death was on her, because she didn’t know what the fuck she was doing. She was just blindly stumbling around, and people were dying. She was barely more than a kid.

  Hush, Jaanaman, hush. This wasn’t your fault, none of this is your fault. Rebecca got back her honor, died a warrior’s death.

  Azar wanted to scream and shout and rage against the world, but instead she said nothing. She laid over Becca’s body until Oliver came, scooped her up and walked her out of the room.

  It was dark when they landed on the doorstep of the Were den like a troupe of refugees, bloodied and a little shell-shocked. Donovan was still seriously injured, though he seemed to be healing well. Tao took one look at them from the checkpoint and had radioed ahead for medical assistance.

  Aaron met them at the car when they pulled up, and pulled her into his arms. He looked around the faces in the car.

  “Becca?”

  A sob welled up in her throat, and she choked it back down. But the look on her face must have been enough, because his face was raw with grief before he pulled his mask of stern neutrality back into place.

  “Come inside. You’ll be safe here.”

  Lorcan bowed deeply toward her, and his army disappeared into the woods. Jack stepped toward her, lifting his fingers to stroke blood from her face. He opened his mouth to speak, but then shook his head. His eyes were trying to say too much, but he just leaned forward and kissed her forehead, blood spatter and all. Then he left with Lorcan’s army.

  Donovan was put on a stretcher, although he snapped and growled about it. The woman they’d met the day of Aaron’s ascension to Pack Master was there. Kayla’s mother.

  “Quit your grumbling, Shaitan. I’m not above knocking out an injured man.” Donovan shot her his most ominous look, and she merely quirked an eyebrow. It took a brave woman to stand up to a Shaitan – brave or stupid.

  The stern woman then looked Oliver over, and nodded toward the dens. “Infirmary, now.” Oliver didn’t even hesitate. He was off in the direction she indicated like a faithful puppy.

  “Who’s she?” Azar whispered low to Aaron.

  “Halona. She’s the pup Kayla’s mother. She’s also a nurse.”

  One side of her mouth quirked. Halona’s bedside manner needed a little work.

  The den was lit with wall sconces, and it made the place look warm and inviting. The halls weren’t as busy as they normally were, probably because it was so late. It had an eerie stillness about it that both soothed and scared Azar. Although she didn’t think she could handle much more action today, the quietness of the underground den reminded her of a tomb.

  Nevyn had hold of Freya’s hand. Nevyn hadn’t let go of Freya’s hand since the attack, the two kids squishing into one seat in the SUV so they wouldn’t have to be parted.

  Azar didn’t know who was supporting whom, but she was slightly jealous. She needed someone to hold her hand through this; she needed Bast. But she couldn’t tell him that. He was feeling just as much guilt as she. His inability to help defend his family had cut him to the very core of who he was. She wanted to just curl up in Oliver’s arms, but that raised too many problems.

  Dotty appeared from somewhere like an apparition. Azar was surprised to see Kayla behind her. The pup stepped around Dotty and wrapped Freya in a hug.

  “Kayla and Freya became close friends while Freya was staying with us. They were nearly inseparable. Halona insists that Freya and the Prince stay with her while Donovan recovers. Kayla will show them the way. They will be safe, you don’t have to worry about that.”

  She looked at Nevyn, and raised a questioning brow. Nevyn nodded sagely.

  “We shall be fine, Azar. I will protect Freya, and I trust the Were. They have pure hearts.”

  She was loathe to have them out of her sight, but Dotty and Nevyn were right. They would be fine within the den. The Fae couldn’t sift in, and there were hundreds of would-be protectors between them and the outside.

  “Fine, okay. Be safe.”

  The kids shot away up a tunnel, looking distinctly more like children and less like victims of war. She envied them, the resilience of youth. Dotty followed along behind them, more slowly.

  Aaron offered Azar his arm, and she took it gladly. It was hard to remember that less than a year ago, Aaron had been a college kid himself. Now he had the weight of hundreds of lives on his shoulders, and he handled it far better than she had, so far.

  They ended up in Aaron’s office, and he closed the door behind him. His mask of power slipped away, and he was once again the boy Azar knew and loved.

  She slumped down on the couch and let her head loll backward.

  “She wanted me to tell you that she died with honor, protecting the children.”

  Aaron sat down beside her, and crumpled, his face in his hands as his body shook.

  He wept silently, for the woman who had been his first love, and then his first lover. The woman he’d abnegated from the pack, and placed in Azar’s care. She rubbed his back soothingly, although she was crying along with him.

  “It was a warrior’s death. Oliver tells me she would have liked that.”

  Aaron sniffed and nodded. “She has always been fierce, if misguided. I can’t help but feel as if this is my fault.”

  “I know the feeling. But we can’t predict the future, and you couldn’t have known. I couldn’t have known.” Her words were empty. Neither of them would unburden themselves of guilt that easily.

  They sat in silence and stared at the ceiling for a while, lost in their own thoughts.

  Finally, she turned to him. “They made me a Councilor today. I’m not sure who is meant to bow to whom now.” It was a weak joke, but it made Aaron laugh.

  “Seriously, they made you the Councilor for the Ifrit?”

  “Geez, no need to sound so shocked, Alpha. Who would have thought a month ago you would be here, hmm? But in answer to your question, no, they made me Councilor for the Unbound.”

  He poured two snifters of whiskey from the decanter on the occasional table beside him.

  “Well, holy shit,” he said, handing Azar her glass.

  She clinked her glass to his.

  “That’s a toast I can drink to.”

  Chapter 11

  Azar shifted gingerly out of bed. The room they had given her was one near the back of the den, which ran for about two miles diagonally underground. Being toward the back, the room had an unfinished quality. The walls were still rough-hewn rock, the furniture the bare minimum of a bed, a desk and a rug. LED lights lit up the room in a glaring pale light.

  Her back ached where her wings had emerged. Although she never felt their emergence at the time, the muscles of her back were always bruised and sore the next day, like she’d been dropped from a great height and landed on her back. It was an unfortunate side effect of her half human nature.

  She grabbed a clean pair of jeans and a black tee from her one duffel. It was all she could pack before everyone evacuated Oliver’s cabin. Stuffing her feet back into her well-worn boots, she headed up the path toward the common room, near the front of the den.

 
Halfway up, she began to hear a commotion, and she began to sprint.

  Not again.

  She just wanted five minutes of peace to wrap her head around everything that had happened. She didn’t want to be fighting Fae until she died of exhaustion.

  When she came around the last corner of the hall, she noticed that all the Weres were centered on a single figure. Azar waded through the huddle of growling bodies, to see their prey standing there, hands raised and a grin on his face.

  “You better call off your attack dogs, Az,” Cy said, indicating the Weres that were edging closer towards lunging distance.

  “Woah, woah everyone. This is my brother Cy. He’s definitely a friendly. I’m sorry about this.” Obviously, Tao and Aaron weren’t in this group of Were. They would have recognized Cy instantly. “I’m sure he has a very good reason for being here.”

  The Weres begrudgingly backed away, but they stayed on alert.

  “You do have a very good reason for being here, right?”

  “Sure I do. I just learned that my favorite baby sister almost got exterminated by the Fae last night, and you didn’t call, or even text to say you were okay. I had to find out from Bast over my morning frappe.” He frowned. “So I’ve come to watch your back. I mean, look how far into the dens I got before anyone noticed I was here? If I can do it, you can bet your ass the Fae can do it too.”

  He had a point, but Azar doubted that Aaron and the Were would appreciate being told so. It was a weakness in the den’s defenses, and it needed to be sorted out. Cy was one of the Adel’s best trackers, and he was practically invisible in the landscape if he didn’t want to be seen. The Fae would have soldiers just as elite as Cy, and they needed to be prepared for that scenario.

  “You better come with me before they decide they wouldn’t mind fresh meat for breakfast.” She grabbed Cy’s arm and pulled him through the crowd. He magnanimously ignored the nips and snarls.

 

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