Fallen Darkness (The Trihune Series Book 2)

by Austin, RB

  Lucas’s heart pounded. He wanted to argue with Cade. In order to eradicate evil must they not tread that line? They kill. That’s what they were created for. Were they not already on the same road as the Fallen? But the words stuck in his throat. “Of course,” he managed, gaze on his shaking hands, clenched into fists on his lap.

  After a beat of silence, Cade spoke again. Lucas, still trying to control the anger rolling through him, caught the tale end.

  “. . . been analyzing the prophecy.”

  At the Sept One leader’s words, Elias’s cryptic message scrolled through Lucas’s mind.

  When one who has traded sides is shown, the end has begun. Danger. Trials. Trust in one another. Do not break apart. Together you are stronger. It is time for separation to end. For forces in like to join. Gather your brothers. Gather those born from the Fathyr. Some will die. Some will be lost. In the end, all will be saved. This was why you were created. The Creator has given you the power to serve Him. Do not fail. Do not disappoint. A map has been foretold. Its key long lost. Find the key. Find the way. Find the truth and triumph.

  Some parts were easily deciphered. Joining forces. Gather together. Those from the Fathyr.

  Elias wanted the Behns to join with the Woyrs. To work together. Cade had already put a call out to Niko, the Woyr leader of the North region. The Woyrs were part animal, part Follower, and no one in the Sept knew which part was dominant. Not receiving an immediate response to the call wasn’t too worrisome.

  Perhaps Cade had finally heard from Niko.

  “Have the Woyrs called back?”

  Cade shook his head. “No. Not yet.”

  Gabe sneered. “They’re probably still baying at the moon.”

  Lucas’s gaze swung to Gabe, eyebrows furrowed.

  Cade cut Gabe a look that was easily translated to shut the fuck up. “The last part of Elias’s message talks about a map and a key.”

  “I remember,” Lucas said.

  “The ebheds have had no luck finding any reference to a map or a key in the texts we have at the HQ or in the database. They’ve communicated with the other Septs’ ebheds but so far it’s a no go. A larger collection of books, along with artifacts we’ve found over the centuries, are stored at the Cathedral.” Cade paused, his gaze shifted to Gabe then Lucas. “I’ve spoken with Father Gregory. He’s arranged to take some time away from the church to help in the search.”

  “Great idea. The texts might have insight on Elias’s prediction. With any luck he’ll find this lost key. Or the map.”

  “Exactly, but I don’t want to send the choghen by himself. I’m not sure if the increase in Fallen activity is due to the prophecy, but there’s a chance anyone who goes to the Cathedral might be in danger.”

  “Agreed,” Lucas said. The priest was nearing retirement age, probably surpassed it already. He wouldn’t last one second in a Fallen fight.

  “I’d like you to accompany the choghen to the Cathedral and assist in the search.”

  Lucas stilled. “Me?”

  Cade nodded.

  Lucas glanced from Gabe to Cade and back again. His heart began to pound. “What is this?”

  Cade’s face remained expressionless. “The task of searching all the texts and examining the artifacts to find a key is a daunting mission, certainly more than one priest can handle.”

  “Perhaps the ebhed should go? Andrew and Michael. Both of them have completed their training. They may not be as strong as a Behn, but they’re equipped to handle themselves in a fight if it comes to it.”

  Cade didn’t say anything.

  Sweat beaded on Lucas’s forehead. He couldn’t be sent away. “Am I not needed here?”

  “Gabe, Sarid, and I will handle things while you are away.”

  “Even with the increase in Fallen? Some nights it’s too much for the four of us. How will three of you do it? And with Sarid taking sick days—”

  “We’ll manage it, Lucas.” Cade’s voice was firm.

  Lucas opened his mouth, closed it. Warm liquid fell across his palm. His hand had tightened around the star. The sharp points digging into his skin had drawn blood. “When would you like me to leave?”

  “I’ve asked Father Gregory to be ready tonight.”

  Lucas’s nostrils flared. He jumped to his feet. “How long did it take you to plan this? How long have you wanted to get rid of me?”

  “It’s not like that, Luc,” Gabe said. “Not at all.”

  Lucas’s lips curled. “Don’t lie to me. You can’t.” It was a bluff right now, but his gut said he was right. “Fucking Philadelphia,” he snarled.

  “Gabe’s not the only one who’s seen the changes,” Cade said. “He’s not the only one concerned for you.”

  “How many times do I have to say it? I. Am. Fine.” He was shouting. Didn’t care. He allowed anger to course through him. To warm his blood. Roar in his ears. He wanted to hit something. Hit something until it bled or he did.

  “We hope this time away with the choghen will help you get back on track,” Cade said.

  A low growl sprung from his lips. His fangs burned in his gums.

  “Calm down, Lucas,” Cade said, a note of warning in his voice.

  “You’re angry,” Gabe said. “I get it. But we’d rather have you mad than dead.”

  Lucas snarled. “I’m not dying. I’m fi—”

  Gabe eyes flared blue. “Don’t tell me you’re fine. You can lie to yourself all you want and pretend the person standing in front of me is the same ach from before the attack, but I know better. Everyone in this Sept knows better.”

  Lucas’s jaw clenched. “I’ve explained my mood swings over and over. Perhaps if the Behns in this Sept were able to control their emotions better than—”

  “Spare me the bullshit excuse and sob story that it’s your ability causing you to be this way. We all have our crosses to bear, just like the Sonh. It doesn’t give us a right to walk around as flipped out moody, bi-polar assholes,” Gabe said.

  “This isn’t a punishment, Lucas,” Cade said.

  He rounded slowly. “Isn’t it? Am I not constantly watched in my own home like I’m Fallen? Everything I say, do, is analyzed, compared to my behavior last month, then cataloged. If I act the least bit anything but calm and happy, the drawer is pulled open and my transgressions waved in front of me. Everyone acts like I’m slowly losing my soul. I can’t suggest things for the best of this Sept, for the best of the Creator’s goal, without everyone assuming I’m turning evil. I can’t have a bad day, can’t hate the fact I’m constantly bombarded with everyone else’s feelings, never truly knowing which are my own. So if I’m particularly on edge or angry one day it can’t be because I’m surrounded by one ach who is constantly in terror and filled with rage.”

  He waved his arm toward the hallway. “Another ach who is either in lust, love, afraid, ecstatic, afraid again.” He motioned to Cade. “And the other who is continuously worried I’m going to turn into the very thing that almost killed him. What I am feeling right now”—he punched his chest—“is completely pissed off. It’s because of you”—he pointed a finger at Gabe, then Cade—“and your emotions that I’m being sent away. What’s next? Are you going to kick me out?

  “Something happened to me. I didn’t seek that demon’s blood. I didn’t ask for its darkness. Much like Gabe didn’t ask for its sword in his stomach. Much like you,” he pointed to Cade, “didn’t ask to be so overwhelmed by your bahshrett that you choked Gabe a couple months ago. Is any of that being held against you? Has any of that created a stain on your otherwise stalwart reputation the past three centuries? No. And I’m supposed to believe that I’m just being sent out of the state, to search for some damn key because of my good hunting skills.” He was breathing hard, his hands out of his pockets, shaking.
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  He paused, inhaled slowly. “I think I’ll be able to better serve the mission if I stay here. Do you not think an ebhed will be better able to assist the choghen?”

  Cade shook his head. “No. It’s unknown if the Fallen are aware of this prophecy. They may be watching our movements.”

  “Which means it’d be best if I stay here. If they see me leaving—”

  Cade held up a hand. “Lucas. I’m sorry you feel we’ve treated you unfairly since the demon incident, but my rule is final. I want you to go to the Cathedral and bring back information on the map and the lost key.” He placed a hand on Lucas’s shoulder and squeezed. “You’ve wanted more information about our mission. There’ll be texts on the Fallen and Apollyon, perhaps you can find the information you crave without causing unnecessary harm.”

  Rage burned so bright he couldn’t speak. He gave a nod of assent. Cade left first followed by Gabe.

  Lucas sank down into the chair, head falling into his hands. He couldn’t be shipped off to Philadelphia. He just couldn’t.

  A noise brought his head up. Sarid stood just inside the room, watching him.

  “Can I help you with something? Is it the Other?”

  Sarid stared at him for a long moment. In the fluorescent light of the conference room, his scars were acutely emphasized. No one knew how Sarid received the deep claw-like marks on either side of his face. He’d come into the Sept with the wounds. Along with rage, agony, terror, and the Other. The scars were deep, and must’ve been immensely painful during creation.

  “It’s not the Other.” Sarid’s voice was hoarse. He was always like that after a fight with the thing inside him. No matter who won the battle, Sarid paid the price with severe flu-like symptoms.

  Lucas waited. And waited. Irritation flashed. He had packing to do. “Okay.” He started toward the door.

  Sarid grabbed Lucas by the arm. Lucas stilled, surprised. His ach didn’t like to be touched and certainly didn’t touch anyone unless absolutely necessary. Even when fighting Fallen he maintained his distance, normally throwing knives as opposed to getting up in the monsters’ faces.

  “Let me help you.” Sarid’s hand flexed on Lucas’s bicep.

  “Help me?” Lucas asked, forehead furrowed. “I don’t need assistance, my ach.”

  Sarid didn’t speak.

  Lucas stilled. Icy cold falling over him. Sarid knows. He swallowed. “Are you sure nothing is wrong with the Other? You’re acting strange.”

  “I know about anger, Lucas. Its hold. Its temptation.” A skeletal face replaced Sarid’s features.

  In one blink the Other was gone. Sarid himself again. “It will not serve you.”

  Lucas shook his head. “Sarid I don’t know what—”

  “It won’t give you what you want.” He tightened his hold when Lucas started to back away. “It only presents false hope, false security.”

  Enough of this. Lucas placed his hands on Sarid’s chest and pushed, finally getting free. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snapped.

  The Other was back, staring Lucas down.

  Lucas froze, breath caught in his throat. With the slowest movements possible, he raised his hands, backed further in the room.

  Sarid shook his head. It was like playing with a light switch. The Other. Sarid. Other. Sarid. “Let me help you.”

  Anger surged once more, running rampant over any fear he had of the Other. “I don’t need your help. Now stand aside.” Lucas didn’t wait, just sidestepped Sarid and stormed out.

  To go pack.

  For fucking Philadelphia.

  Chapter 19

  Kate came awake with a jerk. Her past taught her to make no noise when waking. She lay still, not moving, barely daring to breathe, waiting to figure out what had woken her. Light streamed through the stained glass. Was it morning or afternoon? She wasn’t smart enough to know the difference between a ten o’clock or a one o’clock sun. Although as many times as she’d woken here the past few days, she should’ve figured it out by now.

  Maybe nothing had woken her. She’d fallen asleep last night with her jacket on. Had been warm all night. Almost too warm.

  Voices drifted up to the balcony. Kate froze. They were directly underneath her.

  “So you have no idea what it looks like?” A man asked.

  “No,” came a quick, almost brusque reply. A throat cleared. “Just that it’s a key,” the same man said, this time his tone softened, was kind.

  “Well, I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, but I offer my services.”

  “You’ve already helped us, Patrick,” a third voice said. “By allowing us to take over your home and share your meals.”

  “Oh, no,” Patrick said. “It’s but my pleasure. The Trihune mission, our war, is important for the good of all.”

  War? What were they talking about? The Trihune? Is that some religious term? Not like she’d know. She’d never been in church when it was officially open. Had she broken into some fanatic church? A cult who believed eradicating all the beer-drinking men or the strawberry blondes of the world would bring them everlasting salvation?

  Their voices continued, growing softer until a door shut. Kate stayed where she was for a few minutes. Slowly raised her head above the railing. Clear. Bag in hand, she crept down the stairs. Paused on the last step, listened, though she couldn’t hear much over her pounding heart. She aimed for the closest door, slowly pressed the lever down, took a deep breath, threw it open, and raced through it. There were no shouts of alarm, but she didn’t slow until she was a block away.

  Damn. That was close. She turned left at the next block, heading toward a grocery store with customer restrooms.

  Clean up. Figure out what time it was. Probably get something to eat because if she didn’t she might pass out before her shift. Then find a new place to crash. The church had been nice while it lasted. Maybe she’d walk past the shelter. Find out exactly where it was located, so she’d know where to go after her shift ended tonight.

  Chapter 20

  Lucas had been in Philadelphia for a week now. He and the two Fathers, Gregory and Patrick, had found absolutely nothing. No big surprise there. One call to the HQ to inform Cade of their non-progress and the boss said he wanted them to search a while longer. Again, not really a surprise, but it pissed him off.

  Halfway way through the week his hands started trembling. Probably just the need for blood. The Sept’s monthly blood ceremony with Elias would be taking place later in the week. Lucas would miss it.

  Over the centuries, he’d missed a ceremony or two. Elias never said how long it would take for their Behn powers to fade if they stopped renewing his blood supply in their system, but Lucas had gone two months without it before and suffered no consequences. The hand shaking was new.

  Of course, he’d partaken from Followers regularly during that time. Something he hadn't done in a while and the reason he was scouring the streets tonight. Between Father Patrick’s incessant eager to please puppy dog attitude, Lucas’s inability to block the choghens’ emotions, and the Parkinson’s hands routine, he needed a fix.

  His gaze swept the streets, hand clutching the star in his pocket. A door suddenly opened in front of him and he grabbed it to avoid kissing the wood.

  “Sorry about that,” A zakaar said, arm slung around a short, petite blonde.

  Lucas nodded in response. Happiness bloomed in his chest followed by the urge to sigh. His lip curled, hand tightened on the door. He thought he’d at least get to escape love and contentment when he’d left Astoria.

  The couple was taking too long to reach their car, so Lucas strode into the building they’d just vacated. The door closed behind him and he breathed a sigh of relief as the lovey dovey, made him want to puke, feelings disappeared.

&nbs
p; Until he realized where he stood.

  A bar. Jam-packed with Followers. He stiffened. An assault of feelings vied for dominance. Joy. Lust. Shame. Sorrow. Contentment. Anticipation. Worry. Disgust.

  Lucas was going to explode. He no longer noticed the sharp points of the star digging into his skin, though the scent of blood wafted up to his nostrils.

  A wall. He needed his buffer back, or whatever it was that didn’t make this so difficult. Yesterday at dinner he’d attempted to block Father Patrick but it took so much effort he grew exhausted after five minutes.

  Now Lucas envisioned a shining light, the light of the Creator, the glow often surrounding Elias. He imagined it enclosing his mind. Tucked in the edges. No breaks, no bubbles, no ripples. Tight, taut, encompassing, protecting. A barricade. Not a reflective barrier, but one that would destroy the infiltrators on contact. The emotions in his system began to die off. His heart rate decreased, blood slowed, muscles relaxed.

  It was only himself. Only himself. Only—

  “Are you okay?”

  His eyes flashed open and met a pair of dark chocolate brown ones. Concerned, from her expression. Surprisingly there were no warm breezes drifting along his bloodstream. His barrier worked. A smile broke over his face.