Dex’ heart was racing as a rumbling croak interrupted their conversation. The raven was there, looking straight at him from the courtyard.
The others had turned too. “Spirit Animal.” Mariana knew it right away.
“He belongs to her,” Dex explained. “He,” pointing at the raven, “is full of goodness. He asked me to help her.”
The raven flew into the room, and perched on the couch’s wide arm rest. It stretched its dark wings, wide to either side. The size of the bird was impressive, making it clear, it was no ordinary raven.
He could feel Fawna looking at him, her stare burning the side of his cheek. The two other women looked troubled, unconvinced, even as the raven flew to his mistress’ side. “You see? He’s her familiar. Do spawns have totems from the Light?”
“Familiars are special. They choose who to bond with very carefully.” Sabine knelt down next to the couch, a small smile curving her lips. It was for the bird. “But dark creatures, like demons, can have familiars too. It doesn’t mean anythin’. She could be extremely dangerous.” She looked up at him. The smile was gone.
The bird hopped up on Sabine’s hand. It bobbed carefully, as if bowing to her. It made his wife giggle. The bird had charm, he mused.
“Pa, who is this?” Fawna was behind him now.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was patrolling at the west side of the island, when she was thrown from a whirlpool.”
Mariana reached for him to steady herself. “There are no whirlpools around the island, Dex.”
“There was one last night. That’s why I was late coming home.” He looked at Sabine quickly.
“The west side of the island?” Sabine had her worried-face again. “She could be the demon everyone has been sensin’.”
“I don’t think so,” he answered. He was confident she wasn’t a demon. Not with a kind familiar guarding her.
“Why?” Mariana was studying him.
“I get the sense she’s something more. When I touched her essence, or what’s left of it. I didn’t see darkness in her soul. In fact just the opposite.”
“I saw her kill innocents.” Mariana’s eyes narrowed, her lips tightened.
“Sabine said spawns are controlled by a master. Killing; that was not by her choosing.” He was making a plea for the woman. Without Mariana’s support, the woman wouldn’t have a chance. The raven croaked as if in agreement with him. He liked this bird. Corvidae. Crows and ravens had always been messengers between the realms, and totems to the Dark Ones. Such a being couldn’t be with evil. He believed that.
His cousin Rosa always used to tell him, never lose hope. She had known he wanted a different life. Instead of discouraging him, she supported him, stood up for him and his decision, even when it meant she would have to bear the family’s obligations and burden. For whatever reason, Rosa spoke to his heart now, asking him to have hope, asking him to believe in this stranger. “We have to help her,” he pleaded. “She cannot die.”
The raven bobbed excitedly. More agreement. For now, the bird was his only ally.
Mariana pushed up from her chair. “This is going to take more than what Sabine and I can do.” Mariana didn’t look entirely convinced as she studied the woman laying limp on the couch, but she was going to help.
“I’ll help too.” Fawna volunteered. Dex could detect a tremor in her voice. Nerves, maybe fear, but she was willing to do the right thing. He couldn’t be prouder of his daughter. “Thank you, Mi Fuego.”
“What ‘ave you done so far?”
He released his breath at the sound of Sabine’s voice. “I kept her at the Healing Pools overnight. This morning...” He pointed at his unexpected ward, “She looked like she got a visit from death. I used my magick to keep her warm, but that’s it.”
“The Pools should ‘ave ‘ealed her,” Sabine blurted, astonished. “If the Pools can’t ‘eal ‘er, what can we do?”
Panic was rising in his beautiful bride. He hated putting her into this situation.
“Whatever we can. We don’t give up. We don’t lose hope.” Mariana said calmly. The words felt directed at him, though the Elder had her complete attention on the woman.
The raven hopped off the armrest, and sat carefully over the stranger’s chest, tucking its head toward its wing. The bird looked at peace like it was nesting, but Dex had a feeling it was up to something else.
The air around them lit up with hues of glorious pale pinks, purples, and other colors he’d never seen before. Magick surrounded them with beautiful prisms of the rainbow. It felt as if they were inside a portrait being painted, and they were part of the creation.
“Can you see it?” Fawna asked breathless. “That’s coming from the raven. It’s his aura. He’s sending love to the woman, and to us as well. In gratitude.” She sniffed softly as a tear ran down her cheek. She glanced at him. “I can’t even begin to describe the depth of love coming from the raven. It feels infinite, like it can fill a universe.” She swallowed. “It’s overwhelming and humbling.”
The woman gasped, short and quick as if suddenly charged. They all stilled, watching for more reaction from the woman, but she fell limp again.
“The best we can do is treat her physical injuries. Keep her body stable. Hope for the best.” Mariana sighed. She had never taken her eyes off of the stranger. “Sabine, Dex, combine your strengths. Do what you can.”
“Mariana, we’ve never encountered anythin’ like this before.”
“I know, Sabine.” She took a deep breath. “That’s why I’m calling for help.”
“Who?” Dex’ protectiveness tightened his whole body. Who could they trust with this?
“The Order of the Anakim.” She finally looked at them. “I met the High Mother of San Francisco years ago. Before she was a high mother. I don’t even know if she would remember me, but I remember her to be a good woman. She will help us. I know it.”
“What about Will?” Dex asked. Will was a known quantity. They knew him. Trusted him.
Mariana was shaking her head. “I have been searching for Will. Our mutual contacts have not heard from him or seen him in years. I do not know how to find him.” Mariana went to her desk. “The Order may be our only hope.”
The Order was a cadre of highly-trained Anakim. Guardians of their city against demons. But from what he’d heard about them, they shot first and asked questions later. How safe could he keep his ward if they decided she was a threat? “The Others on the island can help. Someone must have knowledge of this.”
Mariana leveled her gaze on him. “This isn’t up for debate, Dex. You brought a spawn into our midst. You want to help her despite the danger she poses. This is the only way.”
He knew better than to argue. Mariana wouldn’t hear it or worse, she could change her mind about helping the woman. He nodded to signal his reluctant concession.
“Very well. Take her to my quarters. Sabine you can work on her there.” Mariana was back at her desk. Her hand poised on the only phone in the Sanctuary.
“What about me? Is there anything I can do to help?” Fawna asked as she looked from Dex to Sabine.
“Help get her cleaned up and then go home. We may need you again, but later.” Mariana offered, though the words were said softer and directed with more warmth for Fawna.
Chapter Thirty One
January 30th, San Francisco, California
Solomon stirred in bed. He was in Ashtaroth’s suite in San Francisco. The queen was absent, leaving him naked in her bed. It would have been nice to wake up next to her, but who was he kidding? She was demon. He had to remember that.
He got up, not wanting to be there any longer. The queen was one thing, but being there with other demons roaming about was traitorous. One of these fuckers had a hand in his family’s death. He needed to be killing them, not cavorting with the sons-of-bitches.
Stay close Solomon. Be in the nest to find the snake. His guardians advised. The queen will be your key.
He ya
nked the sheet off, his legs swinging over the edge. He bent over, pushing his elbows on top of his knees, his fingers tightly cupping his head. His chest ached; the vicious loss of his family was shredding his insides. They didn’t deserve an ounce of what happened. They were innocent. The demons would pay. He would find a way.
The Seraphim Project, Solomon. Listen to us. We’ve always looked after you. Guided you.
He straightened, taking a deep breath to push all emotions down. He rose slowly, pulling on all his resolve to do what was needed. Ashtaroth would return eventually. She would find him. She always did. But in the meantime, he had work to do.
He grabbed for his cell phone, dialing an encrypted number to Agent Chase Sommer. The cell on the end rang with no answer. “Damn it.” He hung up, slamming the phone on the bed. “Where the hell are you, Sommer?” he growled.
He stood from the bed, grabbing his clothes from a nearby chair. He could hear murmurs in the hallway, bodies scuffling about, there was a sense of urgency to the movements. He reached for his gun on the nightstand.
Stepping out of the suite, he expected to be stopped without the queen next to him. He held on to his pistol, arm at his side. Bullets wouldn’t kill the demons, but it would slow them down. He drew down the trigger. The click of the metal was a like a switch putting him in instant defense.
The queen’s servants were scurrying like cockroaches suddenly frightened by sound. He recognized one of the maidens, Cass. He grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She glared at his hand on her arm and then at him. “Do not touch me, human,” she hissed, her eyes glowing white.
He pulled her into the room and shut the door quickly behind her. He didn’t let go of her, dragging her inside. “I am not afraid of you,” he growled, putting his face within an inch of the demon. He shook her to prove his point. “You touch a hair of my head and you will have to answer to the Queen.”
She swallowed as she assessed him. She snarled, every bit of her instinct wanting to attack him. It was only her fear of the queen that kept her still. “What do you want?” she asked with contempt.
“What is happening?” He flicked his eyes toward the door.
“The king calls for the queen. Do you know where she’s gone?”
He let go of her. His handprint was red around her small arm. “The queen needed air.” He was making shit up. He had no clue where Ashtaroth was.
“Where? The king demands her presence.” She sounded panicked. “Lord Baal cannot be kept waiting.”
“What is so important? Perhaps I can send a message to her.”
The maiden looked at him with skepticism in her eyes, but she was desperate. He could see it in her every movement. “You will do that?”
“Yes.” He crossed his arms over his chest waiting for an explanation. “What should I tell her Highness?”
“The king’s weapon has disappeared. The Seraphim Project must be elevated sooner than expected.” Her voice was monotone, practiced, like she kept repeating the instructions so she wouldn’t forget to recite them to the queen.
“I understand.” He gave the demon a quick nod. “I will relay the message to her immediately.”
Cass almost gave him a smile before she ran out of the suite.
He stared after her, waiting till the suite door swung closed with a soft click. “Thank you, Maiden Cass,” he said under his breath. The Seraphim Project. His project was important to the king. Interesting. He had always thought the Project was for Ashtaroth.
We told you, Solomon. His guardians were dancing around in his mind. Their voice almost sing-song in their glee. Find the secret behind the Project. They faded from him, leaving him rejuvenated and filled with purpose.
He needed to find the king’s weapon.
***
Pamela paced inside her apartment. Her chin a bright red from the constant stabbing it had endured from her anxiety ridden thumb. She let out a breath as she stared at the Beast’s blinking cursor. She felt torn between her loyalty to the General and her gut telling her to reach out again to Flamethrower.
They were both searching for answers.
She had never been one who could resist a mystery. She sat down heavily in front of the Beast and started typing before she could change her mind. “Flamethrower, we need to talk.” She waited for a response, unsure if the other end had since been secured. The ancient modem had been close to impossible to find. She almost wondered if Flamethrower had left an opening on purpose. Whoever Flamethrower was, he or she was extremely good. Impressive by her standards.
“Can I trust you?” she read out loud. Flamethrower responded. She bit her bottom lip, her heartbeat furiously, nerves were making her twitchy.
“You hacked my system first.” She retorted. If anyone should be questioning trust. It was her. Beast had been violated.
The cursor started moving again. She watched intently, her brows pinching tighter as the words formed before her. “You work for a corrupt, evil man.”
She leaned back on her seat, scowling at the screen. This hack did not know anything about the General. Shaking her head and feeling stupid, she was tempted to end the chat.
“Seraphim Project.”
She continued to stare at the screen. What does Flamethrower know about the Seraphim Project? This was a mistake. She thought about San Francisco. She wondered about the General’s unconcerned attitude about the demons’ arrival. The General was patriotic to the core. National Security was always a top level concern--until now. Her stomach churned making her feel ill. She rubbed her hands together trying to ease the growing discomfort spreading through her gut. The secret file she found labeled ‘Seraphim Project’ contained three words. Demon. Queen. Anakim.
She hovered her fingers over the keyboard. If she responded, there would be no turning back. She breathed deeply, not wanting to move forward with Flamethrower, but she had family in San Francisco. Her parents. Her cousins. What if they were in danger? She had to know. She needed to test her hacker. Anakim. She had looked it up, but only found bits of disconnected information on the internet about a group of people from biblical times. That was her test. If Flamethrower answered, she would risk communication.
She took a sharp breath, typed rapidly, and hit the respond button before she could change her mind, “What do you know about Anakim?” The pixelated square box blinked, with every second that passed, tormenting her. She straightened while she watched each letter appear in answer.
“I A m A n a k i m.”
She leaned in to her screen, trembling hands steepled against her lips. Deep down, she had hoped there would be no answer. That the word was unknown to the hacker. This was not the answer she expected.
“Your General is searching.”
“For what?” She typed without thinking.
The cursor blinked. Seconds passed. Then minutes. She drummed her fingers, waiting for Flamethrower to respond. Nothing.
She swallowed, mind overactive with every scenario that could explain why Flamethrower wasn’t responding. She paced in front of the Beast willing a response to suddenly appear on her screen. Desperate, she sent one more message to her hacker. “I will help you.”
Chapter Thirty Two
January 30th, The Order’s estate
Isabel gathered the High Guardians at the Elder’s Chamber. The men were tense, postures rigid. It hadn’t been easy for any of these men, or any of the guardians recently. They were tired, it was all too obvious, but they kept going. Will admired them for their vigilance, but he worried that even with their angelic lineage, they were still mostly human. If they didn’t get a break soon, they may not endure.
After Wanda and Isabel had their meeting, the old man had been cooped up in his room. The ever-hungry sorcerer even refused a snack. And now a meeting was being called. He took a deep breath as he crossed his arms over his chest waiting for the meeting to start. This wasn’t going to be good.
Wanda finally came rushing into the room. His shuffling steps soundin
g like vigorous scrapes on the polished marble. He was breathing hard, his poor little frame almost shaking from the strain of activity. He should have been resting. His human form was frail, bent over from years of tending to a store, yet the old man had fire in his eyes brighter than any youth. Wanda had become a quick friend. The toothless and friendly smile was difficult to resist.
Seline and Katcher, Wanda’s companions were protective in their stance. Each one taking a place on either side of the old man. Seline his apprentice, was young, but determined, and fiercely loyal to Wanda. At the moment, she looked worried with fists tightly held at her sides, and a scowl marring her pretty face.
Katcher swept her gaze over all the occupants, her hand casually coming to rest on the buttress of her sword. She caught his gaze, gave him a shallow bow, before turning and exchanging the same acknowledgement with Jarron.
Seline grabbed a chair for Wanda, and coaxed him to sit down. “We can’t do this,” she whispered to her mentor, her fists blanching at the knuckles.
“The girl is right. It is too dangerous,” Katcher agreed.
Will moved next to the sorcerer, “What’s going on?”
Isabel stood at the dais, her gaze sweeping the entire room. “Attention!” she called. “You have all heard by now that the witches have left the alliance.” Her face was solemn as she looked at the empty chairs on either side of her. “The Human leaders, Salvador and David have asked for time.” Her energy expanded into the room. “I am not counting on their return.”
The High Guardians shifted in their seats, varied feelings of frustrations shadowing their energies.
“The Anakim will stand with or without help. We must.” Isabel continued. “Even as we speak, our civilians have taken the same pledge we have as guardians…” Isabel looked down, a burdened sigh escaping her, “to take up arms.” The High Mother gathered herself, “But we are not without hope. Those true to us have remained. Powerful friends who have sworn their resources to help us in this war. Friends like Will, Sarah, Wandalerius, Seline, and Katcher. In the city, the Corvidae Coven continue to fight alongside the guardians.”
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