The Last Unforgiven - Freed (Demons, #5)

by Simcoe, Marina

  Raim took my hand, keeping me slightly to the side and behind him as we quietly moved down the hallway.

  Sytrius stopped in front of a fork in the corridors.

  “Left,” Raim prompted him quietly.

  This time I spotted the two glowing lights up ahead the moment we entered the corridor to the left. Sytrius dropped to the ground and rolled, knocking both of the approaching guards off their feet, not giving them a chance to fire a shot. Andras jumped to his help, disabling the guards then stripping them of their amulets.

  “This way.” Raim led Marcus and me around the bodies on the floor to a wide opening lit from the inside.

  “Careful.” He signalled us to stop at the sight of at least a dozen guards congregating inside a large rectangular room under a high domed ceiling with glass skylights. Daylight descended on the mosaic floor, with an elongated object in the middle, roped in like an exhibit in a museum.

  Shaped exactly like a cylinder with tapered ends, the urn sat slanted, one end of it embedded into the floor. The visible part of it glowed vividly, sending pulsing waves of orange light all around the room.

  The sight of its light must have been what caused the agitation among the guards in the room. A group of Monks rushed in from one of the arched side entrances.

  “They’re going to touch it,” I gasped, a paralyzing trickle of cold chilling my spine.

  The soros stone material of the urn must have just come to life with Raim approaching, stunning everyone for a moment.

  But only for a moment. They recovered quickly.

  One of the Monks dashed to the urn, his bare hand outstretched.

  “Step back.” Marcus moved forward.

  Before the Monk reached the urn, he was tossed all the way back to the wall. One of the guards reached for what appeared to be a communication device strapped to his shoulder. It melted the moment he touched it, and he cried out in pain, shaking his burnt hand as liquefied plastic dripped to the floor.

  I glanced at Marcus, who stood in the entranceway, his gaze flickering between the people in the room. With a clank of metal, the guards pointed their weapons at him. The barrels of the guns bent and curved upwards under his stare, rendering the weapons useless.

  “End them all,” Raim ordered, but Marcus shook his head.

  “I came here for the urn,” he said firmly. “I’m not killing if I can help it.”

  “Well, keep them away from the urn then, until I kill them for you,” Raim snapped. Sliding out both of his swords from their scabbards at his back, he marched to the entrance. His arm outstretched, his hand pushed back as he encountered the invisible barrier. “Dee?” He glanced over his shoulder at me.

  I nodded, slipping past him and across the threshold.

  “Come in, Raim,” I said quickly, stepping aside and flattening myself against the wall. “Come in, Sytrius. Come in, Andras,” I added, just in case, although the two Incubi were currently occupied breaking the necks of a few more guards who rushed us from behind. I wondered what happened to Vadim and Ivarr, who were supposed to watch our backs.

  With the barrier gone, Raim jumped in the action. Quickly and efficiently, he disposed of the two guards closest to him. The rest backed off, watching all of us invade the room, with Sytrius and Andras finally joining us. Their weapons useless, the guards retreated to the side corridors that connected to the room from each wall.

  As soon as the way was clear, I left it to the demons to deal with the remaining guards and ran to the urn, jumping over the rope surrounding it.

  The mosaic tiles ended inside the rope barrier, the floor around the urn was just rocks and dirt packed by time. I knelt to inspect it, trying to determine how hard it would be to wrench this thing out of the ground it had been sitting in for centuries.

  “I’ll move the dirt out of the way for you,” I heard Marcus’s voice over my head as he joined me.

  “Thank you.” I watched the ground churn around the urn, rolling away from it.

  “Step aside,” he instructed, as the urn shook and trembled with nothing to support its tilted position. I moved away just in time as the cylinder fell to its side, breaking through the rope before hitting the floor and smashing its tiles. “Looks heavy.”

  “Let’s see.” I inspected the polished stone of the urn. The carvings that Raim told us about glowed from the inside as if enclosed into the stone, not etched into its surface.

  If a human touched it, it would be the end of all of us. Everyone I knew and loved, aside for a few friends and colleagues, would be gone, myself included.

  I was not a human, however.

  At least not entirely.

  While I had spent most of my life pretending to be ‘normal’ now the knowledge of my differences gave me the confidence I needed.

  For the first time ever, I was truly glad to be what I was, embracing it.

  I crouched, sliding my hands under the middle of the cylindrical urn that actually looked more like a coffin or a sarcophagus.

  “Lift from your knees,” Marcus whispered next to me.

  I rolled my eyes at him, huffing a nervous laugh.

  “What? I’m just worried about your back.” He shrugged apologetically. “Come, I’ll help you.” He wrapped his arms around one of the rounded ends.

  The muscles in my back and legs strained as I braced my feet into the floor. Marcus’s face turned red with strain as my own heated as well. Getting a better grip on the hard, polished surface, I pushed to my feet, lifting the otherworldly object with me.

  “It’s working!” Marcus cheered, holding on to his end.

  A sudden flash of sunlight glanced off a weapon barrel up on the narrow balcony that ran under the ceiling all the way around the perimeter of the dome. The sound of an automatic weapon slashed through the air, snapping my gaze to the guard hiding up there.

  Marcus jerked as a spray of bullets hit his vest with loud thuds and ripped through his flesh around it. His smile waning, he collapsed, letting go of the urn.

  “Marcus!” I screamed, heaving the damn urn up over my head as he crashed into the dirt at my feet.

  Another string of shots fired, bouncing off the hard surface of the urn in my hands. From the corner of my eye, I saw Raim leap up, hurling one of his curved blades at the shooter. The sword flew, turning in the air, then sank cleanly into the neck of the guard. With a humph and a gurgling sound, the guard staggered back, his finger still on the trigger, bullets flying over our heads and into the ceiling, before he fell over the railing, crashing to the mosaic floor below.

  “Are you all right?” Raim asked me, glancing my way over his shoulder before scanning the entire perimeter of the balcony with his gaze, his second sword raised and ready.

  “Me?” I turned back to Marcus then realized I was still holding the damn urn in my outstretched arms over my head. Anger bubbled in me at the sight of blood soaking the dirt around my brother. “This fucking thing!”

  I took out all the rage and frustration that choked me on the object in my hands, violently tossing it over the rope and onto the tiled floor.

  Before the soros stone even touched the mosaics, a web of cracks ran along the surface of the entire cylinder. It exploded from the inside, breaking into a million shards that slid along the floor in spectacular waves of undulating light.

  I couldn’t care less about its beauty, though.

  “Marcus.” I kneeled at his side, running my trembling fingers over his arm, his sleeve soaked with blood.

  Yanking his sword from the guard’s neck, Raim rushed to us. He crouched by Marcus, placing his hand on the back of his neck.

  “That’s not the best place to check for pulse . . .” I squeezed through my tightening throat.

  “I’m searching for his life force.” Raim fell quiet for a moment, during which my heart all but stopped from dread. “It’s still there, Dee. Fairly strong.” Sheathing his swords, he heaved Marcus in his arms. “Time to get out of here.”

  Shoving the glowing p
ieces of soros stone out of my way with my feet, I hurried after him to the exit.

  Several dead guards were piled up in the corridor.

  “Where are Andras and Sytrius?” I asked, stepping around the corpses.

  “No idea.” In long determined strides, Raim swiftly moved along the corridor that led to the hallway we had come from. “I want to get you out of here, as soon as possible.”

  Keeping up with him, I tried to protest, “We can’t just leave them behind.”

  “They’ll find a way out on their own. Or I’ll come for them later, after I have made sure that you’re safe.” He stopped for a moment, turning to me. “You’ve done what you came here to do. You saved us all, Dee. Now you’re mine to keep safe.”

  The tramping noise of footsteps down one of the corridors made him face that way. Instinctively, I reached for one of the swords on his back then jerked my hand back at the sound of the familiar voice.

  “Raim!” Sytrius called out, running into our hallway. Blood dripped from a gash on the side of his face. There were at least two blood-soaked holes on his left sleeve.

  Andras hurried right behind him, not in a much better shape himself. He was holding a black handgun in each hand.

  “Where have you been?” Raim furrowed his forehead, taking in their appearance.

  “Downstairs, in the basement.” Sytrius panted.

  “The archives are there,” Andras explained.

  “Great.” Raim turned to continue on his way down the hallway. “The urn is destroyed. Marcus is unconscious. We’ll need to get out of here through a door to take him outside. I believe the main entrance is the closest. This way.”

  “Wait.” Andras stopped him. “The info on all of us is in those archives. Our families, our children. The data on Delilah’s family has been added recently.” He tipped his chin at me. “The Priory had planned to exterminate us all, one by one, before the Elder came up with his suicidal mission. Now that it has been foiled, nothing will stop The Priory from going ahead with their previous plan.”

  Raim heaved a sigh, shifting my brother in his arms.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “We already did. Sytrius and I broke into the room with the archives. We demolished the wall between it and their server room holding the information backup. Sytrius laid out explosives around the server, and we lined up a few filing cabinets, stuffed with paper, between the rooms to lead the fire through both.”

  “Great,” Raim repeated. “Let’s go then.”

  “We need to set the explosives off.”

  “Don’t you have a remote detonator for those things?” Raim turned to Sytrius, who silently lifted a small grey box with a round hole in it, undoubtedly left by a stray bullet.

  “Out of order.”

  “Guards drove us out of there before we could do anything about it,” Andras explained as Sytrius tossed the useless detonator aside. “We’ll need to go back there.” He checked both of his guns. “And arm the explosives by hand.”

  “We’d better hurry. They’ve called for a backup already. Tell Vadim to hold the helicopter for a few minutes—” Sytrius turned back to the corridor they had just come out of.

  “Wait,” Raim stopped them. “How long will you have from the moment you arm the explosives until they detonate?”

  “A few seconds,” Andras replied. “Enough time to get out of the room.”

  “But not enough to make it up the stairs and out of the building,” Raim objected.

  “We have to do it, Raim,” Sytrius retorted sombrely. “They will not stop hunting us and our families, otherwise.”

  Raim handed my unconscious brother to Sytrius. “Hold him.”

  He then turned to me. Staring into my eyes, he continued to speak to the demons, “Take Marcus and Delilah outside, to the helicopter. I’ll set the explosives off.”

  “Raim . . .” I exhaled, grabbing his arms.

  “You cannot do it alone,” Sytrius warned.

  Raim tossed him a glance over his shoulder. “I’ve done everything alone just fine this far.”

  “A group of archive clerks are still down there. None of them are wearing the amulets. But more guards are on the way. Here . . .” Andras pressed his guns into Raim’s hands, and he shoved them both under his belt.

  “Raim,” I kept saying his name like a mantra, as fear hollowed my chest. In my heart, I couldn’t bring myself to part with him, although in my head I understood that at this point I’d be more of a hindrance and distraction than help to him.

  Hand covered in blood, he grabbed my chin. Without saying another word, he brought my mouth to his in a deep, scorching kiss. With a sob lodged in my throat, I threw my arms around his neck, kissing him back like a mad woman.

  He broke it off after a few incredibly short seconds.

  “I’ll be right back,” he promised.

  “Be careful.” Andras slapped his back.

  “What harm could come to an immortal?” Raim shrugged, letting his gaze linger on my face for another moment before glancing back at the demons. “Get them out of here.” He tipped his head at Marcus and me. “Now,” he ordered, heading down the corridor where Andras and Sytrius had come out of earlier.

  “Come.” Andras tugged me by the elbow as Sytrius had already headed down the hallway with my brother in his arms.

  Rushing after him, I kept looking back, even after Raim was long gone.

  “WHERE IS RAIM?” IVARR boomed, running to us the moment we stepped outside. “And what happened to the super human?” He pointed at Marcus in Sytrius’s arms.

  Apparently, we were no longer supposed to follow the covert route we had taken on our way in, as Sytrius rushed by Ivar, bee-lining across open ground to the metal door in the wall.

  “We need to get them to the helicopter.” Andras slapped Ivarr’s shoulder as Vadim approached.

  The number of dead guards around the church building told me that Ivarr and Vadim had been busy out here, too. Although both seemed to be in a slightly better shape than Sytrius and Andras.

  “Raim is back there.” Andras gestured at the church with his thumb over his shoulder. “Stick around until he is out. We’ll hold the helicopter for you.”

  Ivarr nodded, giving me a wave.

  The fact that they would wait for Raim didn’t make my fear and worry for him disappear, but it did make me feel a bit better. Despite what Raim had said, he was no longer alone. He would never be entirely alone again because he had all of us on his side now.

  “Come.” Andras grabbed my arm, prompting me to follow Sytrius. Ducking the occasional stray bullets whizzing by, we sprinted to the exit.

  Chapter 26

  RAIM

  Running down the stairs, he unsheathed both of his swords, leaving Andras’s guns in his belt for now. The familiar sensation of the leather-wrapped handles of his own weapons in his hands strengthened his inner balance.

  Andras was right, the archives needed to be destroyed if they wanted to stop The Priory from pursuing every demon and cambion out there for centuries to come. People’s lives were short, but they preserved their knowledge through the written word, passing it on to new generations. Love, beauty, skills, findings—all could be shared.

  In this case, it would be hatred passed on from one generation of Priory Monks to the next.

  He could not let that happen.

  The first bullet hit him straight in the chest. He felt its impact and heard the loud thud as it embedded into his vest. The pain from a broken rib zigzagged like lightning through his nervous system when he drew in a breath before throwing a sword at the shooter he had spotted hiding behind a metal filing cabinet.

  The sword caught the clerk before he could duck back out of sight, Raim’s blade sinking deep into the man’s eye socket.

  Tossing the handle of his second sword from his left hand to the right, he drew one of Andras’s guns out from his belt and leaped over several dead guards piled on the floor in front of the room. None of the
m wore amulets, he noted.

  The soros stone supply was limited. The Priory obviously saw no need to provide those in the basement with the amulets since Incubi could not come through the walls in an underground space.

  Taking cover behind a tall cabinet, Raim surveyed the spacious basement room. The floor was littered with dead guards, open file folders, and loose papers.

  There were no windows to the outside from here. The lighting came from the long fluorescent lights under the low ceiling. Raim also noted the plumbing of an extensive fire-suppression system, complete with several dozen sprinklers scattered between the lights throughout the room.

  Following with his gaze the line of filing cabinets, their drawers open with files and crinkled papers sticking out haphazardly, he traced the way to the breach in the stone wall that likely led to the server room Andras told him about.

  The sound of footsteps approaching from the opposite direction must be the reinforcements that he and Sytrius warned Raim about.

  He had to hurry.

  The muffled noises of activity reached him from the server room. Someone was moving in there.

  Dodging between the shelves and cabinets along the wall, and firing back at anyone who shot at him, Raim made his way to the opening in the wall. A few clerks were rummaging between the filing cabinets and equipment in the server room, taking down the small packs of explosives that Sytrius must have placed. The humans were armed, but wore no amulets.

  Stepping into the corner, Raim slipped through the wall, entering the server room from where a human couldn’t.

  Using their surprise to his advantage, he opened fire on the clerks, systematically moving through the room and chopping the heads off of those who happened to get close enough for him to use a sword on instead of the gun.

  Grabbing the last clerk still alive by the throat, Raim gave him a shake. “Where is the water shut-off?”

  “What?” the Monk croaked. His eyes were wild, filled with fear that barely concealed his hate.

  “I need you to disable the sprinkler system,” Raim said, loud and clear.