The Irin Chronicles Box Set

by T. G. Ayer

  they'd been said to conjure gigantic blades out of thin air, deadly swords that would wreak havoc wherever the angels went, blades that would to spill the blood of thousands of mortals in a single strike. It had all seemed like a myth, a fantasy story told by skilled storytellers to entertain the people or to instill fear in the masses.

  But now, as Evie stared aghast at the sword in her hand, she began to fear that those tales had an origin in truth. She only hoped that such destructive ability was not available to every Nephilim around.

  And then the entrance doors to the dungeons clanged loudly.

  Evie choked on her breathe. She couldn't let anyone see the sword. Or see her with the sword. who knew what the Irin would do with her if they discovered this power.

  Which was why Evie had to hide the damned thing as soon as possible.

  The only problem was, the sword seemed to have decided to ignore her commands--not that she knew at all how to give those commands considering the weapon had appeared of its own accord.

  Evie gasped then shook the sword, feeling the weight of the steel blade resist her thrust. Then she closed her eyes, whispering her wish silently. But when she opened her eyes the sword was still there. As solid and as heavy as before.

  Heart racing, Evie felt herself begin to panic as the footsteps of the guards drew closer. Evie rushed to the bed, threw the covers over and dropped the sword on the bed. It had been a good idea. She could have hidden the weapon under her blankets. But she still had a problem was the blade was far too long or had the damned thing grown while she'd been searching for a hiding place? It was now longer than Evie was tall. What in the name of the almighty was going on?

  Evie was breathing hard now, staring around the room, wide-eyed with panic, she'd looked like a maniac when the guard arrived. Deep breaths deep breaths

  As she listened to the rhythm of the approaching footsteps, Evie forced herself to focus. She smoothed her hair away from her face, returning the errant strands to her ponytail. Then she reached for her shirt and drew it back on.

  Buttoning it up as quickly as her numbed shaking fingers allowed her to. then she studied the sword. It stuck out from the bottom of the bed by a foot and Evie wanted to burst into tears.

  then she shook her head and hurried to the bed, angling the sword across the bed so that it fit diagonally and only stuck out a about ten inches. Then she repositioned the stool beside the bed and propped her long coat over the gleaming handle of the sword. the think leather hid the bright glow and Evie stepped backward. It would have to do.

  Or things were going to take a turn for the worse.

  As she moved to turn to the door, as the key shifted in the lock, Evie spotted the tip of the blad jutting out of the end of the bed.

  Oh holy hells bells.

  The door opened and Evie had no choice but to turn around and face the guards, terror taking up position in her throat.

  Chapter 23

  Evie froze as two guards entered the cell, trying to take slow breaths and keep her expression neutral while ensuring her body remained between the gargoyles and her bed in the corner of the room.

  One of the gargoyles carried a small X-legged table, the second walking in balancing a tray bearing a plate covered in a stainless steel lid, two smaller bowls lidded with glass, and small pitcher of what looked like ginger beer, and an empty tumbler.

  Of the guards bringing her food, neither were her ally.

  Panic upon panic now, and Evie wondered if she would simply die of heart failure tonight. That would certainly solve a few problems.

  The two guards set the table against the wall to her right and then headed to the door. They vanished down the hall and to Evie’s relief her gargoyle-buddy-pal walked in half a second later, holding a wooden chair in his hands.

  He gave Evie a short nod then set the chair in front of the table and stepped away. He didn’t leave though, instead giving Evie a pointed look before staring awkwardly at the floor and then back over his shoulder at the door.

  Evie didn’t move, though she did let out a slow breath, aware that the door was still wide open and anyone could walk in and find the freaking glowing ginormous sword hidden in her bed.

  She had only one choice.

  Without pausing to consider options and alternatives, Evie drew up her magic, erected a sound barrier around her and the guard, and then exhaled slowly.

  Still, she didn’t want to let on that she was in a full on state of lanic, neither did she want to alert the guard to the presence of the damned sword. Even as an ally, the gargoyle could react in a panic and reveal that she had a weapon in her cell, if only to save his own ass.

  So to keep up the appearance of normality, Evie smiled and said, “You have the knife?”

  He nodded and came toward her taking slow and steady steps. He seemed worried that she’d lash out at him, and she understood that he too was unsure of her intentions, her motivation.

  She nodded and held her hand out. “Are you sure about the blood oath?”

  A look of panic ran across his face. But she waved a hand and said, “DOn’t worry. I’ve put up a sound ward. But I shouldn't keep it up for too long so let’s get this done fast.”

  The guard sighed, relief clearing his expression as he retrieved the knife and fork from his pocket. They were wrapped in a pretty pink napkin, the incongruity of the bright color making Evie smile.

  Evie took the cutlery then unrolled the carefully wrapped parcel. She went to the table to set the fork down beside the plate of spaghetti Bolognese, then faced the gargoyle who was currently staring up and around the cell as though trying to see the sound barrier.

  “So, who goes first?”

  He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. The power of the oath works equally.”

  “What happens if either one of us break the oath?”

  He gave her an odd look. “It’s not complicated. You break it, you bite it.” He gave a sheepish smile though even found his words far from amusing.

  She cleared her throat. “Maybe this isn't such a good idea.”

  His eyebrows quirked. “Why? Will you break the oath?”

  They still hadn’t spoken the oath but whatever they agreed on, Evie knew her answer. “Of course not. I’m just concerned about you. I have no idea why you are even helping me but I would rather not have you get in trouble because of it.”

  The guard sighed and raised a hand to reveal his palm, as though ready to go through with the oath. But Evie glared at him. “What is your name?” Startled, the man stared at Evie, and she said, “Forget you name?”

  He grunted, then coughed. “No. Just wondering why you are asking.”

  “Because I’d like to know the name of the person about to put his life on the line for me. It’s not hard to understand.”

  “Darth.”

  Evie squited. “Huh?”

  “My name. It’s Darth.”

  “As in Vader?” Evie asked, unable to keep the smile out of her voice.

  He rolled his eyes. “That gets old real quick. And no. There’s two h’s in Darthh.”

  Evie grinned. “Ah. That definitely makes a difference.”

  He snorted loudly, though his lips curled. “You’re a funny bird.”

  Evie sighed. “That gets old real quick.” More relaxed now, she waved a hand at him. “Let’s do this before someone comes looking for you.”

  Darthh hurried closer and offered his hand. Evie made a small cut in her palm with the knife then handed the blade to the gargoyle while she watched blood pool on her skin. Darthh did the same and then set the blade on the table.

  They waited for his blood to gather, the color as dark as night. Then Evie said, “Well, I guess we both swear to keep secret the fact that you have received a message from me, and that you are going to carry out the request within the letter to the best of your ability.”

  He swallowed. “And that you will not tell anyone that I am helping you, even if I fail to deliver on the contents of your l
etter.”

  Evie pursed her lips. “Sounds about right to me.” She glanced up and met his eyes, recognising strength and conviction in their depths. She held out her hand and he took it, the two bloods mixing together instantly.

  A bright spark of white fire exploded between their hands sending the guard flying back to land on his butt a few feet away. Evie though, remained standing, probably because she was far stronger than the gargoyle.

  He made a face, then got to his feet, dusting his ass as he muttered, “hate when that happens.”

  Evie didn’t want to sound like an ignoramus so she didn’t comment. Instead she took the letter from her pocket and passed it to Darth who snatch it quickly, glanced over his shoulder at the doorway then tucked the note inside his pants pocket.

  “Thanks for this,” she said softly.

  “Only too happy to do it.”

  “So, why exactly are you doing it?” she asked eyes on his face.

  He shrugged. “We know what you are. The Masters made the mistake of leaving you with the Guard. We had to bring you here and strap you down. They already pissed us off when they demanded we dust off that bloody chair and put you in it. That shit just isn’t on.”

  “I heard,” Evie murmured.

  “So we were strapping to the chair with the angel bonds, cos we had to wait for Mykia to come and initiate the final spell, when we saw the Marks.

  Ears ringing, Evie replied, “Oh. I see.”

  He chuckled. “It’s fine. Our legends have spoken of one like you who would bring the winds of change, who would unite the children of the angels.”

  “You don’t appear too in awe of that myth,” Evie observed.

  He shrugged. “It’s not that. We like the uniting part. Just not the reminder of who our progenitors are. Bad blood you know.”

  “I also know that gargoyles and nephilim also had a bloody history, and wars that have gone on for millenia.”

  Darthh sighed. “Some of us don’t believe the old stories. At least not the way they were told to us. And besides, why should we be paying for something that a bunch of idotic people did a few thousand years ago. We figured that if there was ever a time to have the angelics unite it is now. At least we’ll get some time of peace before the shit hits the fan again.”

  “Another prophecy, I presume?” Evie asked.

  Darthh rolled his eyes. “Someone’s a little behind on current events.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” Evie thought of Barry’s comments regarding Patrick but she pushed his voice away. “So, how long before I know anything?”

  Darthh pursed his lips. “I’ll have something to tell you tomorrow moring. Just make sure you stay alive long enough.”

  “Yeah about that. What the hell was that thing?”

  The guard frowned. “We’re not sure what happened inside here. Just one of our mages detected an anomaly, sent us all racing over here but we couldn't hear anything and we couldn't get inside We tried for almost an hour and just when it looked like we’d have to report it upstairs there was a huge explosion. Or rather a non explosion. Most of us can’t remember the same thing. A couple guys claim they were thrown to the other end of the dungeons, others say they never moved. Some say the place was reduced to rubble, and other say nope, didn’t happen. But whatever happened, stopped suddenly for no reason and the door opened and you were fine. Weirdest shit I ever saw but the boss said he knows what happened and he’s not telling unless it’s absolutely necessary and that he’d have to speak with you first before he says boo.”

  Evie wasn’t sure what to say in response. She swallowed. “Okay. Right. Oh, I almost forgot. What happened with Barry?”

  “Oh yeah. The overlord. Well, Mykia kinda let Grythh overhear an argument with one of the masters regarding your rights. And Grythh simply carried out her orders and brought him here.”

  “Mykia gave you unspoken orders to bring Barry to me?” Evie was befuddled. What was the new Master of the Irin up to?

  “Yep. No other way he would have gotten to speak to you otherwise. Maybe she didn’t want to wait for the SHC overseer in case they too were crooked.” The gargoyle made a face then hitched up his belt and resettled his sword. “I’d better get going. Food’s getting cold.”

  “Yeah. cold spagbol is the best,” Evie grumbled, fisting the air as she spun on her heel to check on the glowing sword.

  The gargoyles final words before closing the door behind him were, “You do know you can use your magic to warm the food, don’t you?”

  Evie didn’t reply. The man’s response was enough to piss her off for not thinking of it herself but her attention was directed at the bed. The empty bed.

  The motherfluffin’ sword was gone.

  Chapter 24

  Evie had gone to bed, exhausted from the stress of being terrified the guards would spot the freaking glowing sword, not to mention her shock at having conjured the thing in the first place. Whether it was the drop in adrenaline or the effects of her training, or the resulting loss of energy due to the use of her newly discovered magic, Evangeline had slept like a baby.

  And she never slept like a baby. Ever.

  Evie was the lightest sleeper in existence. Patrick used to complain that the sound of time ticking by three thousand years ago would wake Evie, and she suspected he was probably right. Back then, that had been one of the things that had made her unique in Patrick's eyes.

  What would the old master think of her now? Would he approve her sudden display of magic? Of her ability to summon scary glowing swords out of thin air? Or would he be horrified and scared as he usually was when she'd tested her boundaries?

  Evie turned over in her bed, enjoying the feeling of lying horizontally. The previous night having been spent sitting up in the chair of bloody horrors. She still couldn't believe the brotherhood had found it reasonable to have Evie placed in that particular chair. Did it have some sort of meaning to them? Or some connection to Evie herself. Were they trying to send her a message?

  And what about the Shade? Was the evil creature working on behalf of Marcellus' minions or was it actually vice versa? And how did Daniel fit into this whole mess? Evie had already decided that she'd be putting her feelers out in order to track Daniel down, not that she'd expect to find easily.

  He'd hidden right under her nose for a decade and she'd been none the wiser. How was it even possible to live in the same house--mansion, estate, whatever--for ten years, passing each other every day without either of them figuring out who the other was?

  Had Patrick done such a good job of hiding Evie that Daniel would have missed her even if he had looked for her? If the archangel Daniel had had the tiniest suspicion his child had survived the wrath of the Control, he'd surely have searched for her? Or was that simply wishful thinking?

  The man was no father to her. And he never will be.

  Even if he appeared on her virtual doorstep, begged for forgiveness and promised to be the best father in the world, Evie would never fall for it. He'd shown her his true colors.

  He'd tried to kill her even when he knew she was his child. What father would do such a thing? Even an angel ought to be capable of some affection for his offspring? Or was Gavriel simply an anomaly?

  Evie groaned into her pillow. If only Gavriel had been her real father. But then, those were the dreams and wishes of the innocent. She had a sister. Another daughter of Daniel the Archangel. She had to hope that he didn't know the baby existed. But if he did know, there was a good chance he'd be looking too.

  And Evie was going to make damned sure that he never found her. Too much was at stake now, too many lives in the balance, all hanging precariously over the deadly blade called Archangel Daniel.

  Evie groaned and sat up in bed. There was little point to thinking about Daniel. She had to focus on the here and the now. There certainly was plenty of drama to keep her busy. Evie dressed quickly, smoothing her creased clothing out with her hands, making a face as the wrinkles sprang back up
again.

  She needed a bath, a good long soak in a tub would be just the thing. And her hair needed a wash too after all the activity of yesterday that had brought up a sweat. But Evie couldn't see the bath or fresh clothing in her future.

  Unless she stank up the place and Mykia decided to fix things. But Nephilim weren't like humans in that department of their biology. They didn't sweat or shed skin the way humans did. So bathing was more of an enjoyable pastime than a necessary activity in order to remain clean.

  Evie sighed and glared at the tray of last night’s food. She wasn't all that certain of the time but her body clock suggested sunrise. Which meant someone would be along soon. And she had to cross her fingers in the hold that it would be Darthh with news of Julian. Or Barry with an update on the case.

  Though, in this instance, she'd put her money on Darthh as she couldn't imagine Barry making an early morning call even to save Evie's head from the chopping block. Then she shuddered at the thought.

  Back in the day, beheadings were par for the course for a guilty verdict. And from the way the masters had behaved thus far, Evie wouldn't put it past them to demand the death sentence, and to choose the guillotine for her.

  What the brothers had against her, she really didn't know. Then a thought struck her. What if they had good reason to want to get rid of her.

  Good reason as in they knew why Marcellus had been collecting the Seals. So they would also know that she'd taken them to Hades. And they also knew that Marcellus had followed her to the underworld.

  Which meant they would know Daniel had come after him, presumably in search of his missing master. Neither had returned, although Evie had eventually come back alive.

  Would they want her dead in order to pay for her crimes or were they really focused on what she had to give them should she die?

  Evie sucked in a breath. She didn't really know what would happen to the Seals if she died. Why had she not thought to ask Julian before she left Hades?