And by disadvantage, he obviously meant they were raring up for a suicide mission.
“Put me in, William,” I urged, my eyes are serious as a heart attack. “I have the Amulet. I may not be able to defeat them on my own, but I can at least relay what is or isn’t working in terms of weapons or attack strategy.”
“Luckily, it hasn’t come to that yet. As far as we know, two of the Horsemen have already reached our border, however, they have not advanced since then or shown any signs of hostility.”
I flinched back, surprised. “Then what are they doing?”
“I’m not entirely sure of that either.”
“Well, shouldn’t we send someone in to make contact?” I mean, I highly doubted they were going to lay out their plans for us, but it was worth reaching out.
“I’m afraid they’re simply biding their time.”
I swallowed roughly. “For what?”
He shook his head. “Perhaps they are simply waiting for the others.”
A cold chill passed through me. “I should be on the front line of this.” Everything inside of me was screaming the fact. I was protected and I was strong and I knew I could be of use here. “We shouldn’t just sit around and wait for them to attack us. Something feels off here.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Do you think you’re ready for this?” he asked as we stopped in front of the study. “What with everything that happened to you in the Veil?”
“I can handle it,” I assured him without the faintest hint of hesitation in my voice.
He tipped his head in a firm nod. “Good. You can begin preparations first thing in the morning,” he said and then opened the study door to a packed room. There were at least half a dozen people seated around the long conference table, with several other people scattered randomly around the room.
“Please allow me to introduce you all to the lady who nearly lost her life to bring us the Sang Noir.”
The room filled with greetings and some random clapping as everyone pinned me with their full attention and admiration. Honestly, I couldn’t have felt more uncomfortable if I was standing there in my underwear.
“Is that the book?” I asked, remembering it from that clearing in the tunnel. It looked so much less deadly now that it wasn’t surrounded by black flames. “May I?” I asked, wanting to feel it one more time to prove to myself that it was real. That the whole thing wasn’t some insane nightmare I’d dreamed up.
“Yes, of course,” said William and then extended his arm.
I walked slowly toward the book, almost as though I were expecting it to burst into flames again. When it didn’t, I leaned over the table and picked it up.
I’d half expected some magical feeling to come over me, for wind to appear out of nowhere and swirl around my hair as the sound of singing Angels thrummed from above, but absolutely nothing happened. In fact, the Sang Noir didn’t feel any different from any other book I’ve held before. The whole thing was rather anti-climactic.
Shrugging, I opened the book and fanned through the pages.
“Careful,” warned William. “It’s a very old book.”
“Sorry,” I murmured and then stopped on a page, wanting to see this strange, unreadable text for myself. I looked down at the first line and to my utter shock, it appeared to be perfectly readable English.
Hmm…maybe that was a fluke?
I flipped to another random page and slid my index finger down before stopping in the middle of the page.
Again. Plain English.
I slammed the book shut and glared at William as he winced at my careless handling of the relic. “What kind of game are you playing with me?” I asked, my eyes narrowed, my hands balled into fists and ready to lash out if he so much as uttered the wrong word.
“I beg your pardon?” His eyes raced around the room as though he were embarrassed by my utter display of disrespect, but also didn’t quite know what to do about it.
“You heard me.” I waved the book at him. “This book is written in plain English. So, I’ll ask you again, what kind of game are you trying to play with me?”
He blinked several times as though I were speaking total gibberish to him. Something flickered across his face, though I didn’t know him well enough to be able to read it. “Show me.”
“Show you? Show you what?”
“Show me where it’s written in English,” he asked ever so calmly.
Was he serious right now? “The whole thing is in English,” I snapped as I opened the book and picked a random page. I slammed my finger against a random paragraph. “English!” Then another. “English!” Then another. “ENGLISH.”
Several people seated at the table stood up and shuffled over to me to see what I was pointing at. Their puzzled gazes bounced from the book to William and then back again.
“Jemma…” William shook his head back and forth, his eyes wild with befuddlement and unease. “None of what you’ve just pointed at is written in English.”
“What are you talking about?” I could feel my temper riling up. He was playing me. He had to be.
It was as clear as day.
“At least, it doesn’t appear as English to any of us,” he said, speaking softly. Carefully.
Now it was my turn to look confused. “Are you saying the text looks different for me?” I asked, trying to catch up.
“If what you are saying is true, and you can read it as plain English, then yes. It is different for you.”
I recoiled from his words. “How is that even possible.”
He shook his head. “I have not the slightest idea.”
Well, that was reassuring.
Everyone’s eyes fell heavy on me as the implications slowly began to sink all the way in. The text, while encrypted to everyone else’s eyes, was perfectly legible to me. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was some kind of Angel magic at play? But then why would I be able to read the text and not the others? What was so different about me? I mean, besides sharing a direct bloodline with Lucifer.
Unless, that was precisely the reason why I could read it?
Lucifer, after all, was one of the original Angels—the first to fall from Grace. Was it possible that my close connection to him somehow made my bloodlines stronger? Less diluted…
Purer.
Trepidation lashed over my skin as I wondered what this all meant. If I was somehow different from the other Descendants—able to read the coded texts of an Angel race from eons ago, then maybe I was meant to do more than just follow my people into war. Maybe I could somehow figure out how to channel the Angel’s power and use that power against the horseback bringers of death.
Maybe I was meant to be the one that led them into war, and maybe, just maybe, be the one to win it for us.
33. ALL NIGHTER
No sooner had we discovered I could read the Sang Noir than I was immediately put to work translating it. I spent the better part of the night locked away in the study with three other transcribers who were basically just there to write down every word I uttered from the book.
Unfortunately for me, there was no glossary or chapter titles that allowed me to just jump to the part I needed, so I had to spend the night going through all of it. The whole dang book. Some of which that read like the biblical rantings of a total lunatic. Who wrote this thing anyway?
Halfway through my session, it had become so repetitive and exhausting that I stopped absorbing any of it and was just basically reading words from the pages, out loud, hoping that eventually those words would lead to something useful.
“Does anyone else need a break?” asked the red-headed girl with the pin-straight hair and brown eyes. I think her name was Avery. Or Ainsley? “I’m starving.”
The other two guys quickly seconded her and then jumped out of their seats, ready to go off in search of some food.
“Aren’t you coming?” she asked, pausing at the door when I didn’t get up.
“No thanks. I’m not hungry,” I said with a pol
ite smile. “But don’t let me hold you guys back.”
She smiled back at me and nodded. “I’ll bring you something back just in case.”
That was sweet on her. “Thanks,” I said and then watched as she turned and left the room with the others.
I sat back against my conference chair and flipped through some other pages, scanning the paragraphs and hoping I’d magically fall upon the one that would explain everything we needed to know about the Horsemen. Mainly, how to kill them. But of course, that would’ve been far too easy and simple to ever happen in a million years.
My life just never worked out that way.
“Hey,” said a voice by the door, causing me to jump out of my seat.
I turned to glare at the offender and then softened my eyes when I realized it was Trace. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a fitted black t-shirt that looked custom made for his body. “Hey yourself. You scared the crap out of me.”
His dimple popped out on one side as he smirked. “Sorry.”
He didn’t look sorry. He looked good, like really good, which was so not the point. “What are you doing here?” I glanced up at the wall clock. “It’s like two in the morning.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” He crossed his arms over his chest and studied me. “I went by the hospital to check on you, but apparently you’d already checked yourself out.”
“Damn right I did.” I smiled smugly, despite his judge-y tone.
He nodded. “I figured you might.” He held my gaze for a beat as though he were plucking a secret from my eyes.
“Why’s that?”
He shrugged. “You don’t seem like the kind of girl that follows doctor’s orders.”
I quirked a brow at him. “Are you insulting me again?”
“No,” he answered simply, his eyes guarded but still probing. “The opposite actually.”
Feeling flustered under his intense stare, I turned my focus back to the book instead as I continued to randomly flip through the pages. “So, why were you checking on me anyway? At two in the morning,” I added, my tone laced with my own special brand of judgement. Two could totally play that game.
“Why do you think?” He pushed off the wall and walked into the room, pulling out the chair next to me and then lowering himself into it. “I wanted to see you—”
My eyes snapped up to his like a warning.
“To make sure you were okay,” he quickly added. “Things were kind of crazy the last time I saw you.”
That was an understatement and he didn’t even know the half of it. “Well, thanks, I guess. I feel a lot better.”
He nodded, examining me. “You definitely look a lot better.” There was a strange note in his tone when he said it, almost as if there was an accusation buried somewhere in his statement.
I met his eyes again and this time I didn’t look away. “I heal really fast.”
“Right.” He ran a hand through his dark hair and smirked at me like he knew I was full of shit.
Feeling offended, I narrowed my eyes at him. “Is there something you want to say to me?”
He slouched back in his chair and pinned me with his eyes. “I’m just curious if it was Dominic’s?”
I shut the book and sat up straighter. “If what was Dominic’s?”
“The blood you took,” he clarified nonchalantly. “Was it Dominic’s?”
I practically got whiplash from jerking back at his words. Apparently, he was a lot less confused than I’d given him credit for. I decided not to lie, being that it was obvious he knew I hadn’t magically healed on my own. “No, it wasn’t Dominic’s.”
He nodded, processing it. “Gabriel then?”
Oh, my god. I didn’t want to have this conversation and definitely not with him. “That’s none of your business,” I clapped back, feeling as though he were putting me under a microscope.
He thought about for a moment and then said, “You’re right. It’s not.”
I relaxed back in my chair, but my breather was short lived.
“I’m just surprised you’re into the whole vampire blood thing,” he said, his eyes scrutinizing me again.
“I’m not,” I lied and then shook my head. “It’s just…it’s complicated.”
He didn’t say anything for a while, and I was sure he was judging me. As much as it bothered me to imagine Trace thinking badly of me, I told myself it was for the best. I was, after all, supposed to be doing my best to repel him.
“I’ve tried it before too,” he said out of nowhere, and my eyes immediately snapped to his.
“You have? When?” I asked, gaping at him.
“Couple years ago.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “I get the appeal.”
I felt like my ears were damn near on fire. Trace had never mentioned he’d tried Rev blood before—like ever. He hadn’t even remotely hinted at it. I couldn’t help but wonder much else had he kept hidden from me back then.
“Is that why you were with him?” he went on, once again stunning me with his brazen questions.
“No…why would you even ask me that?”
“I don’t know.” He smirked as he swiveled his chair from side to side. “Because you’re a Slayer.”
“And?” I hedged.
“And he’s a Rev.” He stopped swiveling and then leaned forward. “That’s like the lamb falling in love with the wolf.”
I resisted the urge to shrink away from his advance. “And who would I be in this little scenario of yours?”
“The wolf.” His heated gaze swept over my body as though cataloguing me, inch by inch. “Definitely the wolf.”
It took everything I had not to crack a smile. “Whatever. I really don’t think you’re qualified to make any judgements about me,” I answered flippantly and then shot him a look. “Not with your taste in women anyway.”
He cocked his head to the side, his eyes twinkling with intrigue. “And what’s my taste in women?”
I scoffed as I thought about his history with Nikki. “Well, obviously you’re into the psychotic, clingy, pathological liar types that—”
He threw his head back and laughed, shutting me right the hell up. “How is that anyone’s type?”
I shrugged. “Well, that pretty much sums up Nikki so—”
“Nikki’s not my type,” he quickly interjected, swiveling in his chair again. “You’re my type.”
My heart stopped beating. Like, literally seized in my chest.
Why did he have to say these things to me? Why did he have to look at me with those hungry eyes, like I was a walking freaking miracle he wanted to experience firsthand. Why did he have to make this so damn hard for me?
“How am I you’re type? I’ve been nothing but shitty to you,” I pointed out, a last-ditch attempt to sway his stance.
“That’s because you’re scared of your feelings for me,” he said calmly and confidently like he had this entire thing between us already worked out.
Once again, I was stunned silent. I had no idea what to say to that. My normal gut reaction would have been to say something snarky back to him—something shitty—but apparently, he could read right through that.
“Keep telling yourself that,” I mumbled and then cracked the book open again, signaling this conversation had come to an end. I wasn’t about to broach that subject even on a good day, let alone when the apocalypse was looming over us again.
He relaxed back in his chair and watched me for a quiet moment as I pretended not to feel his eyes all over me. I flipped through the pages again, scanning the passages for any mention of the Horsemen.
“So, what’s the deal with the book?” he finally asked, his eyes still covering me like a blanket. “Have they figured out what language its written in yet?”
I looked up at him under my lashes. “It’s in English. At least it is for me.”
His eyebrows shot up. “No shit?”
And there was that look again. The one where he looked at me like I was made up entirely of magic. It wa
s a dangerous look and I knew I needed to something about it, though I had no idea what that something should be.
“Anything about the Horsemen?”
I shook my head. “Nothing yet, but I’m not giving up until…” My comment died at the back of my throat as my eyes landed on the word I’d been searching for since I sat down and started reading hours ago. “Oh, my god.”
“What is it?” asked Trace as he scooched his chair closer to me.
“I think I found something.” I pointed at the passage, which was pointless since, like the others, he couldn’t read a word of the text. I quickly read out the paragraph that introduced the Horsemen as Avenging Angels who are called to earth during the end of days, though I barely understood much else since most of the text read like an archaic riddle.
After skipping passed the lengthy descriptions of each Horsemen and their steed, I stopped on the part about how they needed the power of four in order to awaken their abilities.
“What does that mean?” asked Trace, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.
“I think it means their powers are only triggered when the four of them are together.”
“Which would explain why they’re not moving in on us yet.”
I nodded my agreement. I’d already had a bad feeling when I learned that two of the Horsemen had reached the border of Hollow Hills, but had stopped after that. It was clear they were waiting for the others to join them in order to activate the power of four.
“We can’t just sit here and wait for the other two to show up,” I said as I slammed the book shut. “They’ll be too strong once they’re all together. We need to hit now—to take them out while they’re separate and vulnerable and hopefully dismantle them before they even get started.”
Trace nodded; his eyes lit with fire from within. “I’m coming.”
“Unless you have a necklace like mine,” I said and pulled out the Amulet, “you’re not going anywhere.”
“We’ll see.” Trace smirked like he knew exactly how this was going to play out.
Incarnate: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Marked Saga Book 5) Page 27