Mercy Temple Chronicles Box Set 2

by Ciara Graves

  “Then you should enjoy it,” he shouted back.

  I flipped him off, not that he could see it, and glared at the couch. “Whatever.”

  I picked up the sledgehammer and laid it on the coffee table, wanting it close at hand, then flopped onto the couch and draped my arm over my face.

  The longer I lay there, the more my anger at Rafael turned to simple annoyance because I knew he was right. I rolled over on the couch, trying to get comfortable, but it wasn’t the same as having a solid, warm, muscled body at my back.

  Shirtless body, warm body.

  I grunted in frustration and punched the cushions a few times then laid back down.

  I’d apologize to him in the morning, but I was not about to go do it now. My pride wouldn’t allow me to let him know I gave in so easily.

  Which brought up another subject. My thoughts turned to Bowen. He was the one who needed to apologize. To me. That was one point I would not back down on. And giving up the search for Damian made me uncomfortable. All I saw was Shuval tearing him to pieces as she laughed.

  “You better be alive, Damian,” I whispered to the shadows, then shut my eyes.

  The nefari was a sign that peace was coming to an end.

  I’d been an idiot to think it’d last any longer.

  Iron bars surrounded my body. I screamed.

  Envy came closer and closer, bearing his sword of green flame.

  My face was on fire. I fought to get free.

  Rafael was at my feet, dead. Run through with the same blade that was about to strike me down.

  I flailed and wrenched my body as hard as I could to get away, but the bars held me tight.

  Envy’s glowing green eyes filled my vision.

  That blade came down on me, and I braced for the strike that would end my life—

  “Mercy, wake up,” Rafael shouted.

  My eyes flew open.

  “I’m here. You’re safe.”

  My throat was raw as a scream died in my throat.

  His arms held me against a warm chest.

  The shaking was intense, and my limbs hurt from it. My vision was blurry.

  Sunlight warmed the floor in the living room; the floor we were currently sitting on.

  Rafael was behind me, holding me as close to him as he could.

  I swallowed hard, my breathing erratic.

  Nightmare. It was another damned nightmare, but this one had been worse

  This one had felt real. Too damned real.

  I sagged in his arms.

  He whispered, “Thank the gods. I didn’t think I’d be able to wake you up this time.”

  I leaned my head against his shoulder as he loosened his hold. Or started to, until I stopped him.

  “Just keep holding me. A bit longer.” I was drenched in a cold sweat, but if he cared he didn’t let me know.

  He kissed my bare shoulder, next to my tank strap, and spoke quietly, telling me over and over we were safe and at home. Envy wasn’t here. We were alone.

  Sadly, this wasn’t the first time I’d had this nightmare, but it was the first time I’d awakened to find myself in his arms. I’d dreamed I was back in Sector 13 and Envy was about to kill me. All I could see was Rafael’s blood pooling on the floor. That damned nightmare was getting worse.

  “Did I hurt you?” I asked, suddenly worried I’d tried to beat Rafael up in my sleep as I fought the nightmare’s version of Envy.

  “No, you didn’t. I can take a few hits from you, anyway.”

  “Not the point.”

  “You didn’t hurt me,” he repeated, louder. “Take a breath and calm down.”

  When I failed to get my breathing under control, I sensed his frown.

  He moved his hands, resting them on my arms. “Breathe with me. Deep and slow. Close your eyes.”

  I stiffened. “I can’t,” I whispered, not wanting to shut them and see Envy killing Rafael again.

  “Alright, that’s fine. Keep them open. But you need to breathe.”

  He breathed in deeply, and I did the same, matching him the best I could. We sat on that floor for a long time.

  When my breathing returned to normal, I looked at him. His dark eyes were filled with worry, and I smoothed out the lines of his furrowed brow.

  “I’m sorry,” I said as he opened his mouth to speak.

  He clamped it shut with an audible clack, then smiled despite the concern not disappearing from his face. “What was that? I’m not sure I heard you over the crack opening in the earth.”

  I punched him in the arm. “Not saying it again. And I’m not apologizing to Bowen.”

  “You shouldn’t have to. Does this mean you’re going to listen to me for once?”

  “I listen to you,” I argued.

  His brow shot up.

  “What? I do. Sometimes. When I deem it necessary.”

  He sighed, but whatever he was going to say was lost in the next second. I took a firm hold of his horns and dragged him closer for a kiss.

  “We need to talk about the attack,” he murmured against my lips.

  “And we will. Later.”

  He didn’t need any more convincing.

  We’d deal with my being attacked later.

  Much later.

  Maybe tomorrow.

  At that moment, all I needed to do was assure myself that Rafael was alive and so was I. Envy hadn’t killed us yet.

  The final battle hadn’t started. Not yet. There was still time.

  We still had time.

  Chapter 2

  Rafael

  I rubbed my tired eyes trying to stay awake. “Nothing at all?”

  Bowen and Rufus shook their heads.

  “No,” Bowen said, leaning heavily on the table at Rufus’s place. He wore his usual black pants and long-sleeved shirt, his boots muddy from his latest trek to his home to check on the safe. Again.

  The artifacts were safe for now. The question none of us wanted to ask was for how much longer. “None of my contacts had ever heard the name Franklin Monroe until you mentioned it. And before you ask, no news on Damian, either.”

  “You’re sure he didn’t say anything to the two of you about where he was going?”

  “We were already gone,” Rufus reminded me, tugging at his large, pierced ear. “He was meant to stay here to keep an eye on Mercy after you two had your spat.”

  Spat was an understatement, but I let it go. “Did you two find out anything new while you were gone?” My voice was more of a growl as I asked, failing to keep my temper in check. It’d been over a week since the incident in Sector 13.

  Mercy and Bowen refused to talk to each other. I couldn’t even get her to join me when I checked in with them.

  Todd was keeping an eye on her while I was here. I didn’t feel comfortable letting her be alone. Not just for her safety, but for those around her. She was at the Wailing Siren keeping Wesley and Shep company. Figured she couldn’t get into too much trouble there.

  “Well?”

  “I get that you’re pissed we couldn’t retrieve the artifacts we were after, but so are we,” Bowen said with a hiss. “And yeah, there might be one more thing we found out.”

  “And you’re just now telling me?”

  “I wanted to be sure what we heard wasn’t just a whisper, that it had some weight to it,” Bowen argued. “And yes, it’s that bad.”

  Rufus bobbed his head in agreement, his large ears flopping. “Hunters. We heard mention of them making their way across the country.”

  I froze. “Tell me you didn’t just say that.”

  If the Hunters came here, Mercy would have to lay low. I’d tell her to go into hiding, but that would be a pointless suggestion. She’d never hide.

  “Afraid I did.” Rufus walked around the table to the kitchen area to scoop up a bottle of some murky, dark liquid that stank of rotting flesh. “Someone let spill there’s dragons in the area. They’ll be here before long.”

  “Are they after Mercy?”


  “Not sure, but it’d be best if she kept a low profile for a while longer.”

  I glowered at Rufus’s words.

  He shrugged.

  We all knew that was a losing battle. Mercy didn’t know how to keep a low profile anymore. She was too pissed off about the fight with Envy and being close enough to Shuval without the chance to attack her. Damian and Nor were still MIA. Gigi was recovering slowly.

  And Mercy’s temper was quickly getting out of control. If she was pushed too far, she’d have another power overload and hurt herself. Or everyone around her.

  “You should tell her,” I said after a long stretch of uncomfortable silence.

  Bowen’s eyes narrowed. “Why? I don’t need to see her.”

  “How much longer are you going to keep this up?” I slammed my palm on the table when he turned his back to me. “She’s your family, Bowen. You’re the only family she has now, and you’re choosing to ignore her. Stop being a prick, apologize, and move on.”

  “She could do the same.”

  “She’s not the one who left you behind. Who risked their own life and has nothing to show for it.”

  Bowen’s eyes flared red. “Don’t push me, demon.”

  “Or what? You want to go?” I raised my brow as I leaned over the table. “I’ll wipe the floor with you. You want to be licking your wounds for a week?”

  He hissed.

  Rufus snapped, “Bowen, he’s right.”

  “Shut it, Rufus, I’m not apologizing.” Bowen blurred away, reappeared at the door long enough to tell us he was going out, then slammed it behind him.

  Thanks to Todd, I knew exactly what they’d been up to while Mercy and I were rescuing Gigi. I simply couldn’t decide if Bowen was more pissed at himself for messing up or for leaving Mercy behind.

  A couple of days after the fight in Sector 13, Todd came to my apartment and we had a nice long conversation about where Rufus and Bowen had gone. They had a lead on two more artifacts that were getting ready to be moved. They’d meant to take them in transit, but their plan went to shit. They hadn’t stolen the artifacts, but they had managed to catch rumors of more hybrids being spotted. Others were starting to get worried about such strong beings in and around the cities. There was no mention of Shuval though.

  “Is he always this stubborn?”

  Rufus’s laughter came out like a harsh bark. “He was a prince once upon a time. Stubborn is a polite way of saying he’s got a stick shoved so far up his ass I’m surprised it hasn’t staked him in the heart. He’s ticked off at you, too. Maybe more than he is at Mercy.”

  “Not like it was my idea to go into Sector 13.”

  “I know that. You kept our ugly alive.” Rufus set the foul-smelling bottle aside, his dark eyes turning even darker. “You’re right, about us being family. Bowen will see that eventually.”

  “And if eventually comes too late? Our being split down the middle is not what we need right now.”

  “I know, but what can we do, huh? We’re just along for the ride.”

  We were already into May, which technically left us only five whole months to get ahead of Shuval’s plans and stop her from charging the rest of the ley lines. We now knew more of what she intended to do once they were charged, but we were missing that final piece. The Blood Moon would rise, and then what? There had to be one final step she intended to carry out that night. No new information turned up on such a ritual though.

  Not like we had any hybrids of hers lying around willing to talk.

  If we hadn’t been busy saving those innocents from the cages, we might’ve been able to capture one, or several, of her hybrids. Could’ve beaten the answers out of them. But we’d had our hands full.

  If Rufus and Bowen hadn’t come along when they did, there was a chance none of us would’ve made it out of Sector 13. We would’ve been the ones captured. Most of us would be dead. I told Bowen that, told him Mercy was appreciative of his answering her text, but it didn’t make up for the fact he left her behind. She didn’t need us all trying to keep her safe. She needed us treating her like the mage she was.

  And as she told me, time and again, she was never going to be safe, not until Shuval was dead and rotting in the ground.

  “You think the Hunters will come here?”

  Rufus was back at the table, shuffling through all our notes on the Blood Moon. Wesley had been able to give us a bit more, but just like Bowen, neither had been there when the last ritual took place. They only witnessed the aftermath, the destruction and death, the overload of power and not nearly as many ley lines had been charged that time.

  “I do, and I think it’s Shuval who called them.”

  “She’s forcing our hand?”

  “She stirs up trouble for those who get in her way,” he informed me, not lifting his gaze. “Trust me. If the Hunters are coming, it’s because she brought them here. She wants Mercy to go into hiding, to be forced to run.”

  “Then I guess we can’t let that happen.”

  He nodded in agreement. “We need Damian back.”

  “You don’t think Bowen knows and is keeping it from us, do you?”

  “What, out of spite? No, he’s just as concerned for the half-demon as we are. I do find it curious, if he really is with your beloved Chief Nor.”

  “You didn’t know either?”

  “There’s much I haven’t been told. I was accused of eating children and locked away, remember?”

  I stiffened at his choice of words. He was busy studying the papers in his hands, muttering something about the 31st of October and the position of some sort of tree. We knew there was the same tree in every sector as there was at Sector 1462 where Shuval made her horrific sacrifices and used the artifacts. The sacrifice we interrupted had probably been carried out later, while we were busy dealing with the gargoyles.

  Rufus and I had gone back a week ago to see if there was any evidence, one way or another. There hadn’t been any. For now, we placed a large question mark on that location.

  As for the rest of the trees in other sectors, there was no way to post people at each one. We could, but it was too dangerous, and our numbers were too small to risk making them smaller. Mercy and I were lucky that night, when Envy had shown up alone, though he’d nearly killed her.

  For all we knew, Shuval or more hybrids would show up at the others. And we couldn’t call in the full force of the Feds, not when so many dragons were involved. We had no real evidence Shuval was even here. Now, all we could do was keep the five artifacts we did have safe and work on finding the location of the final ritual.

  “Rafael.”

  I jumped with a curse as Todd shimmered into view at my side. “Really?”

  “What?”

  “Can you announce yourself next time? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you with Mercy?”

  I half-hoped he was about to tell me she was on her way here to finally speak with Bowen and Rufus.

  Instead his eyes went wide.

  Not a good sign. “Where is she?”

  “Currently she’s beating the crap out of some half-demons.”

  “At Shep’s?”

  “Ah, no. She left the Wailing Siren about an hour ago. She’s at the Caster’s Den, and it’s not looking pretty,” he was saying.

  I was already at the door.

  “Wait, Rafael. I meant to give you this earlier.” Rufus tossed me a silver object. “New sword for Mercy. I promised I’d get her a new one.”

  I caught the new collapsible sword and tucked it out of sight, in my pocket. Rufus asked if needed backup, but I told I could handle it and took off.

  Todd led me through the streets of the Underground until we reached Caster’s Den.

  I’d never been in here, but I’d heard more mages and witches hung out at this place than The Wailing Siren.

  Shouting came from inside, and a second later, a body flew out the door and nearly crashed into me. The half-demon sputtered curses as he pushed up to all fours, sha
king his head.

  “Damned psycho bitch,” he snarled, wobbling once he was back on his feet. Blood dripped from his nose. He wiped it on his arm then charged back inside with a yell.

  “You going in or what?” Todd asked.

  I crossed my arms and waited.

  A crash sounded, followed by a familiar shout. Glass broke, and several people rushed out of the bar. There was more yelling, then the same half-demon was thrown out the front door a second time.

  This time, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he passed out.

  Sighing, I trudged up the steps and into the bar. It was lit better than Shep’s place, and the bartender wasn’t a burly shifter. She was a witch. Eyes wide, she seemed torn between throwing Mercy out and being worried she’d end up on her own ass instead.

  The patrons in the bar had stupid smirks on their faces. Bunch of drunks enjoying the show. Neon signs flashing the brands of liquor covered the walls. As did other steampunk style gears and clocks. It was a strange array of decorations, but I wasn’t there to enjoy a night out.

  Broken tables and chairs were strewn about the place, and there, in front of the metal-covered bar, was Mercy. She wore all black, as usual, along with a long jacket. She held another half-demon in a chokehold. He punched at her arm.

  She laughed when he failed to make her let go.

  “Mercy.”

  Her head shot up. She grinned. “Rafael, you finished chatting with the boys already?”

  “No, I wasn’t, but Todd came to tell me you were causing a ruckus. Explain, now.”

  The guy in her grasp gave me a pleading look.

  “And loosen up on him, will you?”

  Mercy rolled her eyes but did as I asked. Sort of.

  The guy sucked in a breath, but when he tried to wrench himself away from her, she dragged him back and bashed his head into the bar. He staggered around then fell flat on his face with a crunch.

  “Ick.Broken nose. That’s going to hurt in the morning.”

  “Mercy,” I snarled.

  She shrugged. “What?” She glanced past me to where Todd hovered. “Tattletale.”

  “Not much you can do to me, sister. I’m already dead,” Todd said with a wink.

  “What are you doing? You were supposed to wait for me at Shep’s,” I reminded Mercy.