Birth of a Vixen (Shadow Faith Book 1)

by Colleen Tews

  “This is a first for me. Now if you will excuse us. Raphe and I have important matters to attend to.” He backed out of the kitchen and down the hall.

  “I have to go.” Raphe mumbled into my shoulder. He laid a quick tender kiss upon my neck. Then he stepped back. “The fight should keep Lucian busy. So you should be safe to return home. I’ll meet you there afterwards.”

  “What if something happens?”

  “You can’t think that way.” He cupped the side of my face, rubbing my cheek with his thumb. I nestled against the warmth of his touch, happy to know he fed and was strong enough for battle. “I will meet you at your house after the fight.” With a slight hesitation he took back his hand and followed Khel down the hallway.

  The level of guilt I felt for deceiving Raphe was beyond measure. I cared a great deal for him as well. Even though I was not in love with him I couldn’t stand by and let him get hurt or worse die. No matter what the cost of my own safety. I owed him that much.

  Then it dawned on me. I was going to the warehouse, no matter what Raphe said. But first, there was a priest that required a lesson from me, not God. I didn’t have to lay a single finger on his pointed head. It was time to attack the priest where it would hurt the most, his faith.

  Chapter 41

  I parked at Saint Paul’s Cathedral. I got out of the mustang, took off my trench coat and threw it on the passenger seat. I retrieved the two five-gallon jugs full of gasoline and a cheap plastic lighter Albert bought for me from the trunk. It was time for a little payback.

  I kicked open the front double doors. Wood splinters of every shape and size flew into the lobby. The pieces of broken wood smashed against a Christmas tree. Others shattered a blue vase that was between two lit white candles on the sign-in table. Missionary newsletters and pamphlets were whisked into the air by the sudden updraft of a cold wind. The candles fell to the floor. One blew out while the other landed in a pile of papers and wood. A thin thread of dark smoke emanated from the small pile.

  I stomped over the smoldering debris then busted in the doors that led into the congregation hall. An altar with three rows of small candles lit in red glass holders to help poor souls ascend to heaven was set before the stage. The eerie religious illumination cast dancing flickers of light upon the marble statue of Christ set in the middle of the choir loft. The humble Son of God, lavished in carefully constructed linens, with an expression of painful sadness, held out a hand to any weary sinner that took a chance at salvation. That haunting look in his eyes stared back me and brought to life a fire deep within me I hadn’t realized was there. My hands clenched the handles on the plastic jugs.

  All the times I prayed for help there was none. When my mother died, where was God? Nowhere. He just let my father kill her. When Thais took my life and damned me, where was God? Perhaps it was God’s plan to have Caelyn rescue me, but even he came too late. Then when I had stability, a new family, it was one of God’s own fucking dedicated priests that dropped the bomb and sent me astray. “Why God?”

  Still there was no one to answer.

  “I was a good girl. I listened to my mother. I went to church. I did everything I was supposed to do. Tell me what the fuck I did wrong to end up a whore in some stupid war! Huh! Answer me, damn it! Why?”

  I kicked the closest pew to me. Like dominos one pew fell and hit the one in front of it. That knocked the next pew down and so on until the front pew collapsed into the altar. The lit candles fell to the ground igniting the hymnals and bibles that were in the back of the pew.

  I dropped one of the jugs. Then opened the other and started empting the gasoline over the fallen benches. I walked down the aisle spreading the flammable contents. I got about ten feet from the small bonfire at the foot of the stage when I tossed the five-gallon jug into the growing flames. The explosion was brilliant. I stood there against the fire, daring it to burn me. I dared God to strike me down where I stood. I pointed at the statue. “This is as much your fault as it is mine.”

  I retrieved the other container and headed back to the source of the fire. Flames ate their way along one side of the hall to the back of the room. I popped off the lid, leapt across the flames and stood by the podium where I added more fuel. Then I created a trail that went from the floor to the choir loft. I poured gasoline across the cushioned benches.

  I stared into the face of the man I once prayed to everyday to save me, to accept me for who I was even if I could not, and never once gave me anything but hypocrisy in return. “Fuck you.” I splashed gasoline across the face of Jesus himself.

  I tossed the jug aside. It bounced. More gasoline expelled from the nozzle across the dry pews in the other section.

  I bounded across the hungry flames into the middle of the aisle. I basked in the warmth I created in the darkest of nights. Amber tongues licked the air. The fire consumed everything in its path. A maddening grin crept across my face as a piece of my sanity slipped away. “A-fucking-men.”

  I sidestep shuffled out the doors and through the snow as the flames from the hall joined the fire in the lobby, adding it to its fury. A light chuckle built into a capricious laughter. I danced my way to the Mustang at the opposite end of the parking lot. I took pleasure in my victory over Father Khel, over God.

  Chapter 42

  The Mustang soared over bumpy back roads through suburbs. I rounded tight corners and veered around slick curves for about fifteen minutes. The warehouse was just as Capron described, at a dead end. It felt like another lifetime had passed since I trained with Lucian here.

  The parking lot was full. I circled around to the back of the building. There was a loading dock I planned on using to sneak inside. This time I turned the car off.

  I shut my eyes. Why on earth was I about to do something so idiotic, again? I evened things up between Khel and I, in my mind at least. For all I knew Lucian wasn't in there. I could simply reach out my mind to him and we could run away. Those three beautiful words came back. Raphe said he loved me. To run meant I was the monster.

  My cell phone vibrated. There was one voicemail. I flipped it open, hoping Sasha left me a message letting me know they got out safe.

  "Veronica," Albert said. "One last thing, I put a little extra something in the trunk you didn't ask for. Figured they might come in handy. Knock them dead."

  I popped the trunk. My heels clacked as I half-ran half-skipped to the back. The light clicked on and I could not believe what I saw. How the hell did I miss that earlier?

  I moved the cooler with Lucian's blood to one side. Under it was a long duffle bag. Inside it was my katana, two knives in wrist sheathes, a .9mm gun, combat boots, and a black, leather jumpsuit with sleeves. Bless his heart.

  Less than five minutes later I undressed and redressed. The suit was too tight to hide the weapons. Everything was strapped around the stretchy leather. After I put my hair in a high ponytail I was once again thankful I did not have a mirror. No doubt I looked badass, but I belonged in a video game played by horny teenage boys. Whatever worked?

  A brilliant flash from a firebolt lit the high windows. Rapid pounding gunfire echoed from within the warehouse. Screams tore through the sounds of battle. It was time I jumped in.

  I slammed the trunk shut, then made a mad-dash for the loading bay. The garage door was padlocked. A twist of the wrist took care of that problem. A quick shove and door rattled up the frame.

  Inside was pitch black. The fresh smell of blood, burnt flesh, and singed hair cut through the normal musty scent of an abandoned warehouse. I found the cool concrete bricks that was the outside wall and followed it to the back stairwell. I pulled out the nine millimeter. After I made sure the safety was off I squared my shoulders. A quiet calm came over me. I was as ready as I ever going to be. There was no backing out. I shoved open the fire exit door.

  Thin shafts of light filtered through horizontal blinds across tiny windows at every landing. With my back against the wall I marched up one step at a time. There were thre
e floors, four landings when I included the actual floor in the count. I made it to the third landing before trouble started.

  Brutus leaned against the metal door. He wore an open black leather vest and matching jeans. His ankles were crossed. One arm was folded over his chest, cupping the other elbow. The handle of his katana poked up from behind him. A .45 was tucked into the front of his pants. He picked something from his teeth.

  I lowered my gun. "What are you doing here? Figured you'd be inside."

  "I could ask you the same thing considering yer not even supposed to be here, but I don't need to. I already know the answer."

  Sasha sauntered down the last set of stairs. Her thigh-high black leather boot heels made a pronounced click with each poignant step. She wore a black mini-skirt that covered a couple inches of thigh and a dark blue top that covered only her front, it was held together by two strings tied in the back. When she reached the landing she went straight to Brutus. I expected her to at least punch him. Instead she stroked his bare arm and leaned lower parts against his hip.

  “I wish you could see the look on yer face.” His smile grew wide, revealing fangs. He unfolded his arm and wrapped it behind Sasha.

  My poker face was washed away. James Bond I wasn’t. Otherwise I would have seen this from a mile away. Unexpected seemed too mild a word. Yet for some reason her betrayal felt right. “How long?”

  She twirled the end of a pigtail around her finger. “Long enough to throw you and Lucian under the bus. Friendships are always collateral damage when you’re making your way to the top.”

  “What makes you think the people he works for are going to let you get away with this?”

  She untangled from Brutus. “You don’t get it.” She said as she closed the gap. “I captured Cleveland. I led his army into ninety percent of the battles while he plotted from the sidelines. They tired of his slow ass. The real kicker was you. His weak spot. Precious little Angela Vista and her broken heart warmed up the coldest man I ever met. I respected him before you came into the picture. You broke him with a smile I gave you.”

  The gun shook in my hand. “Why?”

  “Cause I could.”

  “What ya don’t to get is how? That part I thought was pretty damn awesome.” Brutus came up behind her.

  “No, I think I figured that out.” I needed to buy time. Plotting my first move trapped in a corner was ridiculous. Brutus almost killed me twice. I had an idea about how powerful Sasha was, but I never saw her in battle. “You found out who Heidelberg was and gave him Lucian’s blood. That’s how he got stuck in the bottle.”

  “Close enough.” She said.

  “When he vanished you must have stopped by my house and met Brutus. To save yourself you sold me out. Two birds, one stone.”

  She dropped her head back onto his shoulder. “Oh she’s good.”

  “Not bad.” His smile slipped.

  I chanced a step closer to the stairs. “And Brutus, she sold you on it when she gave you the surveillance video. The one thing I forgot to hide.”

  “It was convincing.”

  “That disc saved you from Khel.”

  “But not Clay.”

  I squared my shoulders. “We all make sacrifices. I’m sorry.”

  They both laughed.

  “She’s sorry.” Sasha said.

  “Pathetic.”

  “Sorry I only blew out your cheek last time.” I aimed at Brutus’ face and fired.

  Brutus and Sasha dove to opposite sides of the landing. The bullet sliced his scalp above an ear. I ran between them to higher ground.

  Three steps up the sound of bones cracking stopped me. I unsheathed the katana. With gun and blade I turned. Two fresh sets of hands stretched her sides. Fingers wiggled against her flesh. A long, high-pitched scream tore from her as the hands pushed through. Sasha flexed all six arms.

  There was no time for an “oh shit” moment. I centered my mind, felt a calm wash over me, and went on the defensive.

  Three hands scratched air as I dodged. I slammed against the handrail and brought down the katana. It sliced through one arm. Her hand flopped like a fish choking for oxygen.

  Gunfire drew my attention back to Brutus. I sidestepped, putting Sasha between us. She took that opportunity and ran with it. She sliced her razor sharp nails across my face. Two deep gashes opened, one above my right eye –the other below.

  I fell back onto the higher step. Using momentum I bounced and lunged with the katana. The blow skewered her abdomen, in one side and out the other. Which was great, but the blade stuck. She slashed and hissed. The blood that poured from her did not slow her. Instead it just pissed her off. She pushed her way up the katana, inching closer to me. Every centimeter she gained up the blade enraged and empowered her. She clawed me chest, directly above my heart. For every drop she lost she stole another from me. This was a catfight from hell.

  Since I could not get the sword out I used it as leverage. I heaved to the right. Sasha slammed against the rail.

  “Get off!” I kicked her off the sword.

  She tumbled over the rail. The move failed to accomplish everything I hoped. She grabbed a post. While she hung for dear life her back up fired two rounds into my exposed side.

  “Son of a-“ was all I got out until a fireball busted through the exit.

  The orange blast blew me through the outer wall. During the forty-foot freefall I was enthralled with the pretty light. The heat felt off compared to the winter wind. Sure I was on fire with concrete chunks lodged into my back, but it was not until the sudden thud of ground shoving those chunks farther into me that I cared.

  I shook away the ringing in my ears, and began the last step to put out the fire- rolling. I had already stopped and dropped. After all, I was one shot-to-hell crispy critter.

  Brutus stood beside me. The tip of his sword pointed at my throat. One side of his face and a shoulder looked as charred as I felt.

  “Khel wants me alive.” I coughed up blood.

  “So?”

  That told me where he stood with the priest. Nowhere. “He lost his faith in you.” Without taking my eyes off him I inched my fingers over frozen grass, searching for my katana.

  “Shut up! You think yer hot-stuff. So smart and clever. Where did it get ya? Right back where ya started.”

  I tried to nod, but the sharp jolt stopped the movement short. I winced. My fingers brushed the pommel. “True. But I’m not the person I was back then.”

  Fuck the pain. I swung the sword counterclockwise. The parry swiped his blade away from my throat. I somersaulted backwards. The second my feet hit the ground I jumped at him.

  Our blades met with a heavy clang. Parry. Lunge. I cut his upper thigh. Lunge. Parry. He nicked my right arm. Each thrust got me closer to avenging my friends or dying. Either way, at least I tried.

  A twirl of his wrist sent my sword flying to the opposite side of the yard. “Any last one liners you wanna say?”

  Standing my ground, I closed my eyes. I felt that cold burn build in the pit of my stomach. It was primal. This time it was not the need to feed that sparked it. This hunger was stronger. It was power in its purest essence. I never understood what Thais and Lucian meant until that moment. My pain vanished as it surged forward. Prophecy or no did not matter. The power inside consumed me.

  He lunged.

  Faster than ever I pirouetted to the side. A flick of my wrists and my last two knives shot out. As he stepped where I once was I circled him. Then drove the blades deep into his back.

  He cried out. When he crashed face first into the dirt I thought I pierced his heart. Shame the knife was steel and not wood.

  I pried his katana from his weak grip. A hum of power resonated from the beautiful weapon to my soul. Not only was this sword a devilish weapon of destruction, it was empowered. I felt its magic heightening my own. It wasn’t Brutus’ strength that I underestimated. It was this katana the whole time. Damn, it felt good in my hands.

  I stepped
around Brutus. I heard the sword’s song as it cut through the air. With no witty remarks, no hesitation, as he pleaded for his life, razor’s edge met his flesh and hacked through his spinal column. Brutus’ baldhead rolled across the ground. I let mother earth absorb what little crimson liquid poured forth from his corpse. My vengeance tasted sweet enough without tainting myself with the Maarten’s blood.

  Chapter 43

  My resolve drained. I collapsed to the ground. Bruised and bloody, I stared at the dozens of stars that twinkled in the black sky. I had my revenge. Now wherever Guillermo, Kaelanna, Jazz and even Jared’s spirits went to, I hoped they were at rest.

  The sharp pain along both sides of my chest no longer bothered me. Heaven or hell didn’t matter. Either place would be a nice climate change at least. Although with what I did to Khel’s church I doubted I was heaven bound. Which was fine. I had more friends in hell anyway.

  Lightening cracked through the warehouse roof. Jagged, blue tendrils clawed the open air. Screams and an all too familiar scent of burnt flesh came from inside. I groaned. “That’s right. I can’t die just yet.”

  I rolled over onto my hands and knees. I braced for the excruciating amount of pain I was going to have to endure to help both Lucian and Raphe. My feet wobbled under me. The katana sliced the snow behind me as I stumbled back to my car.

  I crumpled into the driver’s seat. There was no possible way I could stop everyone from killing each other. No way in hell. I just needed to get in there, stop Raphe and Lucian from fighting, and get Lucian out. Raphe should be fine, depending on who won. I chuckled at my own self-righteousness.

  I traced the thin, slow healing scars down my chest. Concrete rubble fell out of my back. The larger pieces were lodged too deep for my young body to expel. The burnt scar tissue itched. I needed blood to heal and regain my strength.