He stared at the flickering ember. Perhaps The Order’s efforts were making more of a difference than what they’d thought. “Misha, I humbly ask for your alliance to The Order.” He stated quickly, wanting to make good on his promise to Will. “You have old friends with us. Anya is with us.”
The ember floated closer to his face. The flickering light within, dimming as it danced in the air. “Find me and you will have my help.”
His brows pinched. “Where are you? How do I find you?”
Misha’s voice was fading. “I can’t hold this form much longer, please give the parchment to Anya. The Omega prophecy is underway. Tell her, find the twelve. She can help find me. Only she can decipher the clues…” At that, the ember was gone, and he was alone again.
Chapter Forty
February 9, San Francisco, dead zone
The forest surrounding the estate was eerily quiet as they drove down the hill. Chase and Kimmer were tense in the back seats as Kingston looked ahead, staring into blackness too thick for the headlights to cut through.
“The Prince didn’t get his way, huh?” Thorne was looking out her window, feeling the most relaxed out of the four. “‘’bout time the High Mother said no to her precious boy.” She scoffed and angled toward Kingston. “Are you worried about, Jay?”
Kingston kept his sight on the road. “I’m trying not to be.”
Thorne turned toward the back seat. “Where is the Death Rider? Are you guys ready for tonight?”
Chase looked up, lips pressed into a thin line. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
Kingston looked at the guardian through the rearview mirror. “Do you sense something?”
Chase was shaking his head. “It’ll be good to have Katcher out there. We could use extra eyes. My abilities have been off since we arrived in the city. I can’t fully trust it. But my gut is picking up on something.”
“Don’t worry about it. Probably just combat jitters. You got pretty banged up the last time we were out.” It was Kimmer.
Chase nodded, and remained quiet until they reached the borders of the dead zone.
“This place looks even worse.” Kimmer’s voice was hushed low. “Reeks of sulphur too.” He put his forearm up to his nose. “Damn, that’s foul.”
“It is going to be worse once we’re outside the vehicle,” Kingston added and handed him a small brown glass vial. The miniature bottle had a plastic black screw cap, and a white cotton dabber inside. “Shake it, then take a whiff.”
Kimmer sniffed the cotton padding and immediately felt relief from the stench. No more rotten egg smell, instead he smelled lavender and mint. “Mmm, better. Thanks, man.”
“Pass it to Chase.” Kingston instructed. “Thank Anya and her concoctions.”
Chase went through the same routine, but the sour wrinkle from his face didn’t ease. He still looked constipated. The team left the safety of their vehicle moving quickly to disappear into the shadows.
Jarron’s vehicle was approaching, and stopped further down the street, into an alley. Jarron’s form emerged from the shadows, trademark long sword rising from behind his back. He walked with purpose toward them. Katcher appeared behind him, sword held at her hip, stride as purposeful as Jarron’s, her stare leveled upon his team.
“We split up,” Kingston instructed as Jarron and Katcher made their approach. “Chase you’re with me. Kimmer with Thorne.” His eyes slipped to Jarron. The guardian’s mask was already in place. He couldn’t read Jarron’s expression, but the energy coming off of the man was palpable in its heaviness. “Katcher you have the perimeter to the west. Jay, I want you around the perimeter to the east.”
Katcher gave him a quick nod. The mysterious being was a woman of few words. But he was grateful she was on their side. “The king has been making the rounds. If you see him, do not engage.” He emphasized the direction. Battling the king was not the goal. Not yet. “We’re here to get information.” He swept his gaze over the team. “In and out as quick as possible. Undetected.”
Thorne and Kimmer nodded and headed out. Katcher’s form wavered, and faded into the night. Invisibility, he thought as a quick gust of air dispersed the dust from the ground. Katcher was on her way.
Jay took his arm, surprising him. He turned his hand over, and placed a folded piece of parchment in his hand. “Take care of this. Give it to Anya when you get back to the estate.”
“What is it?” he asked as he tucked the paper inside his tac-vest.
“I’m not sure. But it’s for Anya. Tell her it’s from Misha, and she needs to find the twelve.”
Kingston’s brows pinched in question.
“I’m hoping it’ll make sense to Anya.” Jarron gave him a shallow bow before turning. His gaze leveled into the farthest shadows of the street. “Give me time to scout the perimeter.”
He stopped his friend before he could take off. “Be careful.”
Jarron’s eyes shadowed for a moment. Without another word he took off heading east. He disappeared quickly into the thickness of the night. All the lamp posts were blown, the air was stale, and gloom hung over the area like black sludge.
A sudden pang in his gut raised his hackles. Something big, old, and powerful had just manifested in the area. Dragon blood sped through his veins alerting all his senses. Chase shifted as if on que, his back pressed against his, watching the other side of the perimeter. “How are you feeling? What’s coming?” he asked the guardian.
He could feel Chase reposition behind him, shoulders curling forward, arms raising, gun held forward. “This doesn’t feel right. Naisa told us the dead zone is headquarter central to the hordes. Why is it so empty right now? Where are all the demons?”
Kensy swept his gaze over his side of the area. His sight working better than night vision goggles. “I feel something, but I don’t see anything.” He deepened his line of sight hoping to catch sight of where Jarron had disappeared. He didn’t need to look for long. The vacuum of quiet that had surrounded the area was suddenly gone, and an explosion of white light, and raging red flames tore into the blackest sky.
“Oh god.” He bolted in Jarron’s direction, Chase closely pacing him.
A shriek pierced the air, sending ungodly chills all over his body.
“What the hell was that?” Chase growled.
Heavy soled boots pounded the pavement as they rounded a street corner. In the distance, they could see Katcher and Jarron surrounded by demons. Katcher swung in large savage arcs, her sword connecting with demon flesh. Limbs fell all around her, but the demons continued to advance. She shrieked with fury as her blade severed another head, but another group of demons came at her, moving her further and further away from Jarron.
They were being separated.
Beams of intense white light swirling with red flames lit the sky. Jarron fought with both his sword and his elemental power choreographed in a dance of ferocity. He took down as many as were coming, titillating the swarm into a frenzy as if the smell of blood and fire energized the horde. The demons had no regard for the fallen bodies, just a mindless need to get to the High Guardian.
A large shadow demon came charging from behind, the heavy beat of its gallop shaking the ground. The dark beast was fast, advancing within a blink. There was no way for Jarron to move away from it. The beast knocked their brother down.
Kingston ran for Jarron, Chase right next to him. He felt his own fire tug at him. He let it curdle in his gut. He called upon the ancient flame to rise and be ready for release.
Jarron’s agonized voice rose above the screeching of demons, stopping him and Chase in their tracks. Jarron’s entire body lit up, the heat coming off of the warrior dangerous in its intensity. Jarron roared, his back bent back in a distressing arch. His head turned painfully, his stare leveled on him and Chase. He mouthed one word, “Run!” before a thunderous clap boomed, and the air began to smolder and burn.
Kingston grabbed Chase. “We need to move.”
Chase hesitate
d, his stare fixed on a human male standing at a great distance. The male had salt and pepper hair, and had the stance of a soldier. Chase pushed the heel of his hand into his temple, the sour face getting worse. “General Mitchell,” he hissed as he flicked his chin toward the human hiding in the shadows. “He’s inside my head!” Chase barked, confusion and anger making his jaw twitch. “He’s telling us to leave. Fast.”
“He’s not the only one.” Kingston was staring at Jarron, unable to take his eyes off of the warrior. He was still fighting, still burning, slashing and tearing at the demons with his sword despite the obvious pain he was under.
“Run!” Jarron bellowed. “Get out!” He dropped to the ground on one knee, his sword held up in defense as a thick wall of demon bodies overwhelmed him.
“Jay, no!” Chase screamed, trying to break free from Kingston’s hold.
Kingston grabbed him and pulled back. “Run.” The ground shook, and the smell of bubbling tar fouled the air. Scalding heat bloomed and rose from where their friend was fighting. Blinding white light with an angry red fire in its center mushroomed, incinerating demon bodies instantly. Scorching heat swept through the air chasing after them, and throwing them with the force of a large explosion.
Katcher appeared, her sword held heavily to her side. Her normally immaculate, but lethal appearance was streaked with ash, blood, and bits of flesh. She wobbled in place, but held up a hand, palm pushed out.
Utter quiet fell upon them, confusing the scene with no sound. Everything was collapsing around them, but there was only silence. No deafening rumble of falling buildings, exploding cars, and the howling of demons. They had been tossed inside a protective bubble, “Jay!” Both he and Chase screamed as they tried to rip out of the energetic barrier, trying to get to their friend even as all matter started disintegrating to ash.
“Katcher, let us go.” Kingston growled as he and Chase pushed, and shouldered against the invisible barrier.
“No.” She hissed as she stared at the source of the heat, her eyes squinting from the brightness, her lips trembling. She kept watch until light and heat receded, before releasing the barrier.
“Jarron! Jarron!” Chase ran into the decimated street, screaming for their friend. Only two brick buildings withstood the fire, the red stones singed to black, the window frames turned to empty dark hollows.
They searched. The desolation of the street was complete. Kingston fell to his knees as he came upon his friend’s kodachis laying on the ground. The once gleaming blades were burned and brittle, and his brother was nowhere to be seen. “Do you sense him?” he asked Chase with gritted teeth, fearing the answer. He turned to the Death Rider. She had been the closest before the demons overtook them. “Katcher what happened?”
Katcher leveled her gaze upon him, a hard lump swallowed before she spoke. “I sensed massive dark energy right after I left. I rounded back and followed. I found our brother-in-arms. Jarron St. Sebastian was surrounded. I tried to help, but there were too many. They kept coming. The flood would not stop.” She held tightly onto the hilt of her sword, the tip of the blade trembling in the air, revealing her shaken state. “The demon king was here. He ordered the attack.”
“Jarron!” Chase cried out. He paced around the area calling out. Hands rubbing his face in agitation, when no answer came. Chase shook his head stiffly, and his turquoise eyes darkened, “I can’t feel him. I can’t sense his life force.”
Kingston’s gaze swept upon Chase then Katcher. Their silence deafening. He roared into the night as dust, dirt, and ash swirled around them.
Jarron was gone.
Chapter Forty One
February 10, Bimini Island
The beautiful woman whimpered. She was agitated, thrashing in her sleep. Fawna could feel erratic energy coming off of her.
For an energy sensitive like Fawna, the frequencies were painful, tightening her chest, and making her gasp for breath. She pitched forward about to reach for her pendant for comfort, when the woman grabbed her right arm, her hold tightening as she seemed to struggle within a nightmare.
Fawna’s eyes grew wide as she watched her skin redden and blanche along the edges of the woman’s hand. She could feel her muscles getting squashed and her bones tensing from the pressure. “Stop. Stop. Stop.” Fawna’s cry was a panicked whisper while attempting to pry the woman’s hold off of her. “Stop.” She cried with no sound. Her sobs choked within her throat as she watched the woman’s hand begin to glow red and heat up. Fawna clawed at the woman’s arm. She needed to get away before her forearm snapped in two or she got burned. “Please stop.” She yanked on her arm. Hot tears washed over her face as her skin heated under the woman’s grip. She was burning from the stranger’s touch. Pain snaked from her arm and through her body, as if her blood was beginning to boil. “Please stop!” Her voice finally unlocked from fear paralyzing her vocal cords.
The woman let go suddenly, a print of her hand, red and inflamed on her arm. The middle of the print was blistered and wet. She blew on her arm, her shaky breath unable to relieve the intense pain beating through her injured limb.
She backed away quickly from the woman, afraid of what else may happen. The woman sat up, her shoulder slack, and her head bent down. Her long, dark hair fell in thick waves around her pained face, and her mouth began to tremble. “Help me.” Tears fell from her closed eyes. “Please help me. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
Fawna stepped back from the bed. She should run, but the woman’s plea was real. The woman’s body jerked forward and flew back slamming her back on the bed. “Let me go!” She screamed. “Fawna!” She called. “Help me!” The woman pleaded.
Fawna’s mouth fell open, her breath caught in her throat. The stranger knew her name. What? How? Her heart jumped, rattling her chest making her wince. “What is happening?” She asked no one. She inched closer but with her hand outstretched for safety and distance.
“Fawna... please. Before it’s too late.” The woman cried. “He’s too strong.”
Fawna could barely breathe, barely think. “What is happening?” Her voice trembled, “ha...how?” She asked.
The woman’s tears fell freely, her eyes squeezed shut, her anguish coming off in thick waves. “Faw..., I can’t hold him back much longer. He’s winning.” The woman sobbed.
Fawna gripped her pendant, the power from the crystal soothing her immediately. She closed her eyes, instant decision setting upon her mind. She gripped the crystal and yanked upon the chain. The silver necklace snapped open against her neck and dangled from her clutched fingers. She slid off the crystal, and placed it into the woman’s hand.
The woman’s eyes sprung open, face twisted in pain, tears streaking her face. She was gasping for air, while clutching the crystal to her chest. She stiffened, her back arching above the bed, breath caught in her throat.
Fawna stood up in alarm, afraid the woman was dying.
“Fawna.” The woman sighed as her long, dark lashes fluttered against the hollows of her eyes. Her body lowered back on the bed. Slowly opening her eyes, her gaze swept to Fawna. Her catlike hazel eyes brightening as she shared a grateful smile, and peace settled over her entire being.
Fawna burst into tears as the woman’s energy connected with hers, filling her with light so complete, it could only be described as divine. She fell to her knees, covering her face with trembling hands. Her heart overwhelmed with all that was good and light. Warmth filled her, same as when the Raven shared his love for her family. But the energy from the woman was even stronger, going deeper and touching her heart in ways that made her feel infinite. All too soon, the warmth began to fade, receding steadily, making her feel alone and empty. She dropped her hands from her face, and stared at the beautiful woman before her. Understanding that the woman was no demon, but an angel.
“Mi Fuego!” Dex called from the hallway. “Go home. Mariana will go with you. I’ll stay here and watch over Will’s daughter.”
She had so much to tell Dex. Sh
e was sure what the woman said was important. Perhaps there was a clue there somewhere that could help Mariana and Sabine figure things out.
“Pa! Hurry up!” She was suddenly excited and felt hopeful they could help the stranger. Dex told them the woman was Will’s daughter, but even Will was a stranger to her. But stranger or not, she was now sure the woman was no demon. Just as sure as she was that Toqeph was good.
Dex walked in, going straight to the woman. Big hand laying over the woman’s forehead as if feeling for a fever. “She’s cold.” Dex’s brows crinkled. He bent down, hovering an ear over the woman’s nose and mouth. He rose quickly, and stuck a finger under the woman’s jawline. He gripped his forehead, thumb and middle finger pushing against either temple. He stared at her, barely unable to speak, “She... She’s dead.”
Fawna’s hand flew to her mouth. Disbelief and shock fighting to take precedence over her heart. “No.” She shook her head. “No. She was just....” she sobbed. “She was fine.” But as she looked, her angel was unmoving. She was too still, her eyes held open without seeing, a palm pressed squarely over her heart. The hand she’d placed the crystal in.
Dex lifted the woman’s hand off of her chest. Fawna’s black crystal pendant fell, and rolled down the woman’s trunk. “Why does she have this?” Her father picked up the crystal, and handed it back to her with care.
“I gave it to her. To help her.” Fawna sniffed back a tear. Fawna’s gaze drifted to the woman’s chest where the skin was exposed between her breast. A burn mark, the size and shape of her crystal was stamped prominently into her skin. Fawna gasped, her chin shuddering as eyes remained glued on the mark. “It’s my fault.”
Dex followed her stare, his own settling on the burn mark, understanding what Fawna was mumbling about. “Ay, Mi Fuego. You did not do this.” He swept his hand over the woman’s eyes and closed them.
She looked simply asleep. Her beauty radiant. Her color better than it had been. Fawna reached, feeling for life forces. Dex’s was strong. Bright. Sad. But There was nothing from the woman. She tried not to cry. She wanted to keep her mind clear. Figure out what happened. The woman had felt so strong when their energies connected. Her angel.
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