by S. Young
Snuggling her close, Lucien kissed her softly on the cheek and rested his head next to hers. “Me too.”
32
Pistols at Dawn
Unlike human battlegrounds where terrain and weather could determine the outcome, the supernatural battlefield was perfect. The chosen spot was a massive beach with towering sand dunes to Caia’s left. To the right, the tide remained out and would do so for the entire length of the fight due to a spell that had been cast on it by the Daylights. The sand beneath her feet only looked like sand; she didn’t feel the familiar sinking of her feet into the grains. Instead, the ground was compact and smooth, as was the entire beach.
A dome-like barrier had been suspended over the area to shield the supernaturals from human view. To prevent humans from wandering onto the beach and banging up against the barrier, another spell clouded the atmosphere, one to muddle the human brain temporarily so that any thought of approaching the beach was quashed and replaced with one to go elsewhere. The weather was still and perfect. Not too hot, not too cold. And although the water could be heard lapping in the distance, its spray didn’t come anywhere near them.
Caia’s stomach was in knots. She was sickly white with fear and anxiety, just as the rest of the pack was. Her heart was pounding so hard and fast, she was constantly fighting the need to be sick or pass out. The buildup to battle had been excruciating. It had taken hours for the Daylights and Midnights to arrive, and now finally, the Council had announced it was time.
Across the beach—some three thousand yards in the distance—stood the assembled Midnights. Their battle lines were a fair mirror image of the Daylights’ own. In a crescent-shaped line stood five different divisions of Midnights. From left to right, the first two consisted of daemons, the third and fourth of faeries in the shape of big cats and large vultures, and in the fifth stood magiks. Behind that line was another crescent made up of four more divisions. Behind the daemons stood more faeries (all big cats), and guarding Orina Beketov and the Council, who led from the very back, were two blocks of magiks. The fourth block of magiks guarded at the back of the faeries and magiks in front.
The Daylights stood in the same crescent formation. Up front from the left in the first two divisions stood faeries in the shape of big cats (when Caia had asked about the choice, Saffron said that faeries had an affinity for them and felt stronger as felines)—panthers, leopards, tigers, you name it—purring and growling and bussing up against one another with affection and encouragement. Vampyres made up the third division center in line, and the last two were all lykans. Guarding the lykans from behind were magiks.
The second division of the second line was made up of more vampyres who, along with the third branch of magiks, stood to defend the Council, leading from the back. The fourth on the far left was comprised of magiks who waited behind the faeries in front.
Yeah, they were ready to go, all right. Caia exhaled slowly.
“Caia.” Alfred’s voice echoed through the lines by the use of a spell. “It’s time.”
Everyone had attempted to talk her out of speaking with the Midnights, warning that it would make her a target. But the Midnights would recognize her as soon as she got close enough, thanks to the earlier message from the gods. As such, Caia decided to go ahead.
Trying to ignore her trembling nerves, she looked to Lucien. Even in wolf form, he managed to throw her a bolstering look. She stepped forward from the front line among the lykans. Caia strode with determination, her shoulders back, head held high, her face devoid of expression.
Standing at the halfway point between the two covens, using the speaker spell Penelope had taught her, Caia addressed the Midnights, surprising herself with the maturity and authority in her words. “I am Caia Ribeiro. The gods have seen fit to tell you who I am and what I have done. I have given the trace magik back to the gods, freeing us all from Galen’s revenge. Without the trace, I believe we can build a road to peace.”
She heard the snickers and roars of outrage and denial among the Midnights. She hadn’t expected anything else. They hated her and her kind.
“You don’t believe me but it’s already begun. I am half Midnight and yet I stand and fight with Daylights. I stand and fight with two other Midnights who are willing to die for us.”
“And they will!” someone screamed in the distance.
Ignoring the sickness that roar encouraged, Caia forced herself on. “You don’t believe our world can exist in peace, but the trace that bound us to the war is gone. And after today … so will the war itself be!”
Cries of support and growls of anticipation battled against roars of hate and disdain. Caia turned her back on the Midnights, showing them she was unafraid, and walked calmly back to her spot on the front line. Her insides felt as if they’d snapped apart.
Lucien nudged her leg, and she ran her hands through his pelt in thanks.
A rumbling sounded in the distance as a first wave of daemons moved as one toward the Daylights.
“Faeries!” Alfred cried from the back. “Take out those daemons!”
A thundering exploded in Caia’s ears as the faeries leapt forward as one. Their large paws pounded into the ground, propelling them forward at awesome speed, their muzzles drawn back, their eyes focused on their enemy. Caia’s heart raced knowing Saffron was among them.
“Magiks on the left flank, move forward!”
The beauty of the faeries’ race across the beach, the blur of colors, momentarily made Caia forget what their goal was. And then, as she had known they would, three hundred yards from their target, the leading faeries, many of whom were leopards, shifted as smoothly and wondrously as a waterfall. The ground shook under their feet and what sounded like trumpeters deafened Caia as they turned from graceful feline into oversized elephants and massive rhinoceroses with lethal tusks.
A cry rose among the Midnights, but they weren’t quick enough to defend the daemons crushed beneath the faeries’ massive feet. Some managed to scamper out of the way and attempted to clamber onto the shapeshifters to pierce them with their weapons. They were merely shaken off and trampled underfoot. Behind those faeries leapt those still in cat form. They launched around the mass of bodies and huge mammals to attack the Midnight faeries behind the daemons.
An order rose from the Midnight Council and faeries in the front line moved in to help while the magiks that had stood to the far right closed ranks, covering the gap in the line.
Caia watched on in horror as screams and whines rent the air as cats fought cats, and vultures swooped onto the elephants and rhinos, pecking at their eyes to blind them. Even from her position, she could see blood flowing in the sand.
“Vampyres!” Alfred bellowed. “Front and second line! Move forward!”
Led by Reuben, the vampyres sped off in a blur of movement. Caia felt the earth behind her tremble as the magiks who’d guarded at the back of her closed in, in front of the Council. The vampyres were in among the battle in no time, and the urge to throw up grew greater as she watched the mass of struggling bodies. Most of the elephants and rhinos had disappeared in the crowds. Caia assumed they were either wounded or they found fighting as a cat more efficient.
When the magiks guarding the Midnights’ front line moved in on the battle, sparks of fire and cascades of water crashed through the air onto the scene. Caia felt the change in the atmosphere as air magiks began to fight; she watched as huge rocks came out of nowhere and crushed the Daylights underneath them as earth magiks triumphed.
It all seemed like moments, but Caia knew she’d been standing shivering with terror for a long time.
“Lykans!” Alfred screamed. “Take out those magiks!”
As the wolves rushed across the sand, Caia morphed instantly into her own wolf self and ran with them. The sand didn’t kick up around them as they sprinted, and the ground acted as a wonderful springboard for their flight. The air rushed by in fragile lightness, and Caia realized just how perfect the spellcasters had made this ter
rain for them.
The lykans collided into the fold, tearing magiks who screamed in outrage. Gore and body parts flew; jaws clamped on necks, sending spurts of blood everywhere. Caia changed and instantly put up a shield as rocks and earth shattered against it. She caught the eye of the magik who’d targeted her and narrowed her eyes, flooding his lungs with water. He gasped and fell to the ground.
She then turned, pulling witches and warlocks off lykans and faeries with her magik, dousing vampyres who’d been set on fire, rescuing faeries by sending up shields. She was battered and targeted, exhausted by her need to defend not only herself but others while also being on the offensive.
Magik came out of nowhere, and Caia felt her lungs squeeze as they filled with water. She fell to her knees, grasping at her throat as a woman approached with victory in her eyes. There was a blur of movement and the water dissipated and she could breathe again. Reuben stood before her with the woman’s head in his hands, her body already decomposing on the sand.
“You’re welcome.” He grinned and then was off into the fight at warp speed.
Caia’s eyes took in a sight she would never forget. The ground swam with blood and pieces of supernaturals. Insides spilled onto the sand, limp hands trailing into the gore. Blank eyes of Daylights and Midnights alike looked up at her as she stumbled over their bodies. The noise of the battle grew muffled as she dove in front of a tiger, a bolt of fire heading toward it. Her water hit the fire, and the magik canceled out.
The tiger growled and sprang at the attacking warlock, its claws slicing Caia’s arm as it swiped at the enemy. Caia hissed back a growl at the stinging agony and looked down at the bleeding claw marks on her arms. She turned as the warlock’s muffled screams reached her ears. She couldn’t imagine how painful his death was if a “scratch” like this hurt so badly. Dazed, Caia morphed her hand into wolf and back and then spun around. Immediately her heart exploded in her chest.
No!
Her eyes darted from witch to warlock as one by one, they pulled out vials of golden liquid and threw it into the air, controlling it with their magik as it descended on the nearest lykan. A girl shuddered back into human form, followed by an older female, followed by Alistair MacLachlan. Stunned, she stood unable to comprehend that the fluid discovered by Pierre du Bois had found its way into Midnight hands again and she hadn’t known about it.
A young lykan girl went up in flames. Caia roared in disbelief and threw up her hands, a tidal wave appearing among the battle. Like last time, she tried to avoid Daylights but was afraid some were soaked despite it. The wave crashed down on two of the offending Midnights, and Caia rushed the water into their mouths. She saved Alistair, and the Alpha began changing back into wolf—Caia put up a shield around him to let him do so.
Once he had transformed, Caia focused on finding magiks with the fluid. A blasting of fire and magik exploded above her head, and she looked around to see Daylight magiks approaching the battle. Thank goddess. One by one, she took out the witches and warlocks with the liquid, her body bruised and bleeding from the hits they’d managed to land. Her throat was dry from oxygen deprivation from having encountered air and water magiks.
Satisfied, she made to take on another warlock when her neck prickled in warning. A dark feeling crept over her. A sense of unreality descended, and Caia turned slowly.
A flash of black hair on the ground in the distance caught her eye.
No.
Blasting the man in front of her back absentmindedly, Caia stumbled through the fight, her view of the body growing sharper.
No.
Being trampled by fighting magiks and lykans, a naked Lucien lay in the sand, bloody and empty, a hole through his chest where his heart should be, his silver eyes blank as they stared straight into the heavens.
No.
Caia fell upon him, her hand knocking away a vial with a tiny drop of golden liquid. Her hands fluttered over the gaping wound uselessly.
“No.” She shook her head and then grasped his cold face in her hands. “No.”
Caia pressed on his shoulders. “Lucien, wake up,” she whispered and then hissed as rocks smacked against her back, and she sprawled over him. Sobbing, she lifted her face, now bloody from Lucien’s fatal wound, and moved up his body to look into his eyes. He wasn’t in there.
He was gone.
An unbearable pain ripped across her chest.
Something inside her died.
Replacing it was an unforgiving fury.
She screamed with agony as a fire incinerated her insides, traveling from her toes like a snake slithering up her body. It wound its way around her heart and squeezed and seemed to burst the organ into gory pulp. White light blinded her, and the sensation of falling accompanied her scream of death, her soul begging for the destruction of those who had dared to fight them for their right to peace.
33
Laila
It was the whispering that brought her out of unconsciousness. Followed by the pain. The pain was like a harsh, pounding wake-up call. Her eyes flew open with a gasp, and Caia shrunk back from the white of the room.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” a gentle voice soothed, and she felt a cool hand on her forehead.
Caia groaned. This kind of exhausted, “been run over by a truck” feeling was familiar and yet so intense, it was alien too. One by one, faces popped up in front of her. She blinked. Jaeden. Ryder. Laila. Magnus. Marion.
“Come on, now, get back, let her rest,” Ella’s familiar voice called from the bottom of the bed and her pack shuffled backward.
Her pack.
Lucien.
“No, no, no.” She struggled violently with her bedcovers and then with Jaeden as her friend paled and tried to press her back onto the bed.
“Ryder, help,” Jae screeched, and Caia thrashed against them both, too weak to do any serious damage.
“No!” she cried, tears gushing down her cheeks as the image of Lucien lying murdered in the sand flashed through her mind. She didn’t want to be alive if he wasn’t with her. Panic made her hyperventilate, and she struggled to draw breath.
“Someone help her,” Jae pleaded.
“Caia, breathe. Caia … Caia.”
Her heart stopped at the voice, and she drew in a ragged breath, her chest opening. Jaeden smiled at her and moved aside so Caia could see past her into the next hospital bed.
Sitting upright, tucked under his own set of covers, was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. He wasn’t real. How could he be? Could everyone else see him? Looking through blurry eyes, Caia watched the expressions on the pack’s faces as they glanced from her to Lucien.
“Is he real?” she croaked.
A tear slipped down Jaeden’s cheek and she gave her a wobbly smile. “He’s real.”
There was no stopping her as Caia ripped back the covers and bounded out of the bed and onto Lucien. She collapsed in his arms as her body seemed to lack any real energy. But she was strong enough to return his mammoth hug as they smothered one another with kisses.
“How, how, how?” she mumbled against him, breathing in his wonderful scent.
Lucien’s arms tightened around her, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Laila.”
Caia stiffened and managed to turn in his arms to find Laila by her bed, Vil standing behind her, protective as always.
“How?”
Laila smiled shyly.
“She’s an Asclepian.” Marion squeezed the magik’s slight shoulder.
Through the haze and confusion, Caia’s jaw dropped. “An Asclepian? I thought they were extinct?” Little Laila had the power to heal and bring people’s souls back from the Underworld? Caia shook the moss out of her brain. “I mean … I thought there were none of you left?”
Laila shrugged. “My family kept our gifts hidden because we knew we would become targets. Not only is it against the law to bring someone back from the dead but it is a much-coveted gift. My family are gone. I’m the only one left.”
“She risked a lot healing me in front of the Daylights,” Lucien said, his voice rumbling against Caia’s chest.
“I couldn’t let you die,” Laila retorted, but her eyes were on Caia. And Caia understood. She meant she couldn’t let him die for Caia. Tears bubbled up again.
“Thank you so much,” she whispered, more grateful than the little magik would ever understand.
“Laila must be protected from now on,” Marion insisted.
Caia bit her lip, trying not to show fear. “No one will harm her for breaking the law?”
“Everything is a mess right now, Caia. There is very little hold for the law.”
“So that’s a no, right?”
“That’s a no. But there will be a lot of people interested in acquiring her.”
Caia felt a primitive growl shudder in her chest. “They’ll have to go through me first.”
Laila beamed, and Marion grinned appreciatively. “Then I think she’ll be fine. Outside the hospital walls there is a world of very shocked, awed, and frightened supernaturals.”
“Frightened of what?”
Lucien huffed, “You.”
Caia’s eyes widened and she gripped Lucien tighter. “Me?”
Jaeden rushed at her. “Caia … you’ve been unconscious for five days.”
“W-w-what?” She shook. Five days? What had happened? Who won? Was the pack all alive?
The questions rocketed through her and as she tried to ask them, they tumbled out in a jumble of nonsense. Lucien stroked her back and Marion spoke again, “When you found Lucien …” The witch shook her head in wonder. “I don’t know what happened. I saw you fall across him and then this white light exploded out of you, along with this inhuman screaming.”
The others nodded, seeming to remember. “I was blasted off my feet. I couldn’t hear or see a thing. And then after a few minutes, the light faded and I could see again. And when I got up … there were no Midnights left. Ash blew into the breeze, whispering by me with Midnight energy. Caia … you killed them all.”